tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57850523917611340222024-03-18T08:02:30.767-04:00Kristin Berkey-AbbottKristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.comBlogger5033125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-51271866949479899002024-03-18T08:01:00.004-04:002024-03-18T08:01:40.448-04:00Looking Ahead to Fall Seminary Classes<p>When we get to reading week, I start to check to see if the schedule of classes for the following term has been released yet. Even in the week or two before reading week, I check, although I know that the schedule isn't likely to be released. Yesterday, I checked to see if the Fall schedule was there, even though it was Sunday. There it was.</p><p>I must have missed the late afternoon posting of the schedule, because when I checked late Friday morning, it wasn't there. I can't actually register for classes until March 25, so I haven't lost out. More exciting, there are plenty of classes that will work for me.</p><p>In the past year, I haven't had as many classes that I could take. That's partly a function of having been in the MDiv program for awhile: a lot of the courses offered are ones I've already taken. But I've also felt a bit fretful as I've seen fewer classes that are offered for students who have to take classes from a distance.</p><p>This fall, I'll be taking a variety of classes: one is completely online, one meets by way of Zoom Mondays from 6:30 to 9:30, and two meet in person on campus for one week, October 14-18, with the rest of the work online.</p><p>If I take one more class, I could be done with the MDiv by December. But do I want to do that? Hmm. One of my favorite professors is teaching a class on the Gospel of Mark, so it's tempting. That class meets by way of Zoom once a month, and the rest is online. It could be doable.</p><p>You may be saying, "Wait, aren't you about to start a full-time job in the Fall?" Yes. Could I handle a heavy teaching load and a heavy seminary class load at the same time? Yes. </p><p>I will take the four classes regardless, unless something changes radically. It gets my requirements done, and the classes that I need for the certificate in Theology and the Arts done. I want to take the classes while they are offered and in a format that works for me. I can't be sure that it will happen term after term. Let me seize this opportunity while it's here!</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-53760043149163706912024-03-17T07:15:00.001-04:002024-03-17T07:15:21.624-04:00The Seeds of Saint Patrick's DayI have never done much celebrating of St. Patrick's Day. I don't drink green beer, and if someone else served me corned beef, I'd eat it, but I don't love it enough to make it for my own homestead. Occasionally I make Irish soda bread, and I wonder why it isn't tastier. I've made a cake with Guinness beer occasionally, and here, too, I wonder why it isn't more delicious. I'm not braving the crowds to go to an Irish pub--I like my pubs deserted.<div><br />I may spend some time contemplating Celtic aspects of Christianity, but I might do that any day, whether it's a day that celebrates the life of a famous Irish saint or not.<br /><br />I am intrigued by the crowds of people who have no connection to Ireland or Christianity or any of the reasons we celebrate today. But I'm not critical. I believe in injecting festivity into daily life in whatever way we can.<br /><br />Today I will go to church, people may wear green. That's fine. I am preaching a sermon that thinks about Saint Patrick, the Oscars, the U.S. presidential race, and today's Lectionary text: John 12: 20-33, a text about seeds and the necessity to die so that we may live again. Many would preach this text as an eternal life text, but I'm encouraging us to look at our current lives. What bulbs do we need to be planting? Where are we stuck in the mud of life?</div><div><br /></div><div>Saint Patrick, before he was a saint, surely felt stuck in the mud, sent to a distant outpost to help solidify Christianity in Ireland in the 500's, when Ireland was a wild and wooly place, when the empire of Rome was in a state of slow collapse. Yet he used his gifts to transform the community of faith--and one of those gifts was the 6-7 years he spent as a teen enslaved in Ireland before he escaped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's how today's sermon ends:</div><div><br /></div>Our sprouting and blooming will almost surely not look like the success that our larger culture has trained us to value. We’re not likely to win an Oscar or to be a presidential nominee. Even though I’d vote for just about any of you, our system isn’t set up that way. But the life of Saint Patrick reminds us to be of good cheer. Even if we feel like we’re stranded in a distant outpost, we are making a difference just by living our lives in an authentic way, the way that God calls us to live. Even if we feel like we’re stuck in the mud, in truth, we are bulbs in the process of transformation to blooms.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-28636418809018688952024-03-16T08:51:00.000-04:002024-03-16T08:51:32.642-04:00Pioneers Planning Composition ClassesToday I am feeling a bit frazzled. It's a combination of things: a jam-packed week, a realization that seminary writing is due at noon today not 5 p.m. like I originally thought, feeling annoyed that I've spent more of my adult life in houses that are under construction than finished, having trouble finding the book I needed in the stack of books that got displaced because of the drywall project, a sermon that I still need to construct.<div><br /></div><div>Let me collect some snippets here. Let me look for gratitude inspiring nuggets to preserve.</div><div><br /></div><div>--I have realized that I'm at a school, Spartanburg Methodist College, where I can be more creative. Before I had that realization, I crafted fairly safe syllabi: write an evaluation essay, write an argumentative essay, write a research paper. But my colleagues are doing very cool things in their classrooms, like having students create chain mail (I think it's for a Medieval Lit class, but I'm not sure) or virtual commonplace books in the style of Shakespeare (see <a href="https://www.smcsc.edu/article/faculty-dr-kelly-neil/">this article</a> for more information).</div><div><br /></div><div>--I am going to spend the summer thinking of ways to be more creative in my classrooms, to have students be more creative. I'm not teaching Creative Writing, but there's lots I can do in English 101 (English Composition) and English 100 (the pre-college writing class). </div><div><br /></div><div>--I have this vision of something that might feel like more of a Return to the Pioneer Life class. They could knot some quilts that I'd bring in. We could churn butter (in the pour cream in a jar and shake it kind of way). Hmmm. I've been wanting to revisit the Little House books. Hmm.</div><div><br /></div><div>--The Laura Ingalls Wilder Historic Home and Museum does have Wilder days Sept. 27 and 28 and a Children's Literature Festival November 7 and 8. Hmm. </div><div><br /></div><div>--I also want to know more about Spartanburg. It would be cool if there was something similar nearby.</div><div><br /></div><div>--My students are the Spartanburg Pioneers. Hmmm. Yes, that's the mascot. Maybe we could have a Pioneer Days festival at school. Maybe everyone would like to knot quilts for Lutheran World Relief. I hesitate to suggest such a thing for fear I would end up being the one to plan it.</div><div><br /></div><div>--One of my colleagues is having a Medieval Matters day at campus today. It's both a festival and a conference, with students presenting papers and research. She has students coming in from multiple states and schools. It sounds really cool. I am so happy to be in a place that has this kind of person pulling together this kind of event.</div><div><br /></div><div>--Let me hasten to add that almost every school I've been at has had similar opportunities. Most of us who are drawn to teaching want to have these kinds of cool things for students, and I've been lucky to be places where it's been encouraged.</div><div><br /></div><div>--I have been talking about how I wish I could have another week off because this past week, while wonderful, has left me wrung out. Then I realized that this week is Quilt Camp! It's not a complete week off, but it will rejuvenate me. And unlike past years, I don't have to drive 12 hours to get to Quilt Camp.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-45102178797981054392024-03-15T10:09:00.003-04:002024-03-16T05:21:07.334-04:00In Which I Accept a One Year Teaching Lectureship<p>So, now I can be more straight forward than I was yesterday, with my discussion of "dressy" shoes. This week, I interviewed for a one year full-time teaching lectureship at Spartanburg Methodist College, hence the need for "dressy" shoes (which, again, I stress that most people wouldn't see them as "dressy"--they are flat and black and boring). Yesterday, they offered me the position, and I said yes.</p><p>Let me say at the outset, I'm still going to be taking seminary classes, so having this job doesn't change that. If the Faith Lutheran folks want me to continue past June (when the contract extension ends) as their very part-time minister, a full-time teaching job doesn't get in the way of that.</p><p>The college had advertised several positions; I originally applied for the tenure track position, which had this language: </p>"A PhD in Rhetoric and Composition or related discipline. (ABD with identified completion date will also be considered). We are especially interested in candidates with areas of specialization in professional writing; technical communication; digital and social media studies; visual rhetorics; business, grant, and non-profit writing; or editing and publishing. Additional experience with creative writing and/or journalism is welcome."<p>I thought that I might fit--I don't have course work in digital and social media studies, but I've been doing writing for digital spaces and social media. I've taught business and technical writing. I've done editing and publishing and professional writing of all kinds. I thought it was worth applying, particularly since I've had success there as an adjunct.</p><p>A few weeks ago, I heard from a woman on the search committee, who also happens to be the woman who hired me to be an adjunct. She said they had decided on a different candidate for the tenure track position, but she asked me to consider applying for the one year lectureship, which is a 5/5 course load (the tenure track position is a 4/4 load). After asking some questions, I said that I would like to have my materials given to the search committee.</p><p>A week before Spring Break, I was told that the committee would be interviewing me, and this week was the week. On Tuesday, the search committee came to see me teach, and on Wednesday, I had an interview with the Provost (the chief academic officer on the campus), followed by an interview with the search committee. There was a meet and greet that was open to the whole faculty, and then the search committee took me to lunch.</p><p>On Wednesday as I drove home, I thought that the day couldn't have gone much better. I've had interviews where later I thought, I wish I had answered that question differently. But on the whole, I don't think that Tuesday or Wednesday could have gone much better.</p><p>Yesterday I returned to campus to teach. When I was in my office, eating my lunch of Greek lentils and barley, the Provost came by. He offered me the one year lectureship, and I accepted. It will be all English 100 and 101 classes for fall, which is fine with me. I'm not creating new courses, which makes it easier to stay on track with my seminary progress. I've often said that if I had gotten a PhD in Political Science instead of English, I'd have spent lots of time recently rewriting a lot of my curriculum, but the English Composition basics haven't really changed radically during my lifetime.</p><p>When I applied for the tenure track position, I didn't know that the school was beginning a BA in Professional Writing and Digital Communications--that announcement came later. I am guessing that the tenure track person will be doing a lot to support that program: curriculum creating now, helping students with job searches later. In many ways, the one year lectureship works better for me.</p><p>What happens after a year? The lectureship might be extended, or it might not. It might turn into a tenure track position, which might mean that other people could apply. In a year, I might be finished with my MDiv degree, and I might have all sorts of options--or I might not.</p><p>It's good to have a year of stable income, a year when I have a sense of what I'll be teaching well in advance of when the classes start. It's good to have a chance to be working with these colleagues who have been wonderful so far--an important reason why the tenure track position interested me.</p><p>I won't lie--it's also nice to be chosen. I've worked in places where it's clear that adjuncts rarely get the full-time jobs. I'm glad that it worked out differently this time.</p><p><br /></p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-46253703991359013162024-03-14T06:42:00.002-04:002024-03-14T06:42:12.382-04:00Our Best Selves<p>It has been a week of disrupted schedules, with more Zoom calls than usual, more trips to Spartanburg than usual, a morning of uncomfortable "dressy" shoes (even my dress shoes are flats, which would be seen as more frumpy than dressy by many people), a week of midterm projects due, and a fish fry on Friday. I am weary, and it's only Thursday. I am weary because the week-end only provides a smidge of down time.</p><p>But it is a good kind of weariness, the kind that comes from extra opportunities to catch up with friends, the kind of weariness that comes from the opportunity to get to know colleagues better.</p><p>On Tuesday morning, I had a classroom teaching observation, which in some ways, should be no big deal by now. But it's always a bit unnerving. Happily, the class went well. The observation team expressed delighted amazement by how engaged the class was: "When you had them write, everyone was actually writing." And I had an idea that I wasn't sure would work, but it did, and the team liked that too; I had students make lists, and then I had them go to one of the 3 white boards and write 1-3 ideas on the white board. It fostered participation, and we could discuss the ideas as a whole, without singling anyone out or putting anyone on the spot, in either a positive way or a negative way.</p><p>Because Tuesday was an observation day, I was in high energy mode for the morning class, which meant I was a bit depleted for my afternoon classes. I always feel a bit guilty, like I'm shortchanging my students. But when I think over the history of my teaching, I realize that I'm always feeling guilty about how much more I could be doing, yet my students remember my better days. I just heard from one of them a few weeks ago who said, "I have never learned and achieved so much knowledge in a class than in a class taught by you!"<br /><br />Yesterday was a morning in "dressy" shoes, talking about teaching strategies, teaching histories, approaches to life and education. I’ve been trying to remember the final question I was asked. It was something along the lines of “Describe good teaching.” I said that the purpose of teaching was more than just delivering subject matter, but the real purpose of teaching was to make students know that they are more than their worst day, to remind them again and again that they are better than what advertisers want them to believe, what politicians want them to believe about themselves, so that they’ll buy more, or vote for candidates. The best teaching reminds students of their better selves and what could be. <br /><br />I felt myself choking up a bit, with tears coming to my eyes, and in my head, I reminded myself that I was not in a preaching moment, and I dialed it down a smidge. I said, “Now subject matter is important, don’t get me wrong. But subject matter can come along for the ride as we turn students into the best versions of themselves.” <br /><br /> So, all day yesterday, and in my teaching in my Tuesday class, people saw me as one of my best selves, the teaching first year students best self. It's interesting to think about how my best teacher self intersects with my best preaching self and how those selves interact with my best creative self. Are there other selves at play? I would think about this further, but time is short.</p><p>Now it's time to get cleaned up, to head down the mountain to teach. I feel like the teaching portion of my week should be over, but it is not. At least today I can do it in more comfortable shoes!</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-84940113981310084282024-03-13T05:15:00.000-04:002024-03-13T05:15:19.133-04:00More on Infographics<p>I don't have much writing time this morning. I need to leave even earlier than usual for a morning of meetings in Spartanburg. Let me return to the idea of infographics, which I first wrote about in <a href="https://kristinberkey-abbott.blogspot.com/2024/02/infographics-and-how-we-learn.html">this blog post</a>. Now that my baptism infographic has been graded, I can share it:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG-d-njd0qu6wAidTui-oDb53lyhhHs-3Phvg4sVCMWt9dALLuqZhIG3iuOFIhrwxHrd-KwTMt9g3HLWqfHJa5Xqkv3RMfR4C1Si2RZWC4ADRZqjfI10VfFXLelGlly9a_TGT73XWo3h6Ewj2yhkows-M_N9yVygQstLDG1o1Ohxn2j9a8dEk0HKw-gmo/s3045/Baptism%20Infographic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2964" data-original-width="3045" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG-d-njd0qu6wAidTui-oDb53lyhhHs-3Phvg4sVCMWt9dALLuqZhIG3iuOFIhrwxHrd-KwTMt9g3HLWqfHJa5Xqkv3RMfR4C1Si2RZWC4ADRZqjfI10VfFXLelGlly9a_TGT73XWo3h6Ewj2yhkows-M_N9yVygQstLDG1o1Ohxn2j9a8dEk0HKw-gmo/s320/Baptism%20Infographic.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>As I was looking at my pictures, I came across the black and white version, which I took in case I messed up the infographic when I added color. I wouldn't have had a way to undo the color, but I could have turned in the black and white version. Happily, I liked the color version better.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CXW1rjLYR1QlpzRRy62YpSrl2pYNzrG_2rJEqKvVEiEU-IjXuzjXpdZQ54TiL8GLmAjYfUvpATmckSNyJTjodno20NNCtbymZUlxqSqp3sYSPJdS6G-2gGaB4jrsh_lWExeLdtLptGjngtESWwtWY5GnEG2kch0G6aNiJDcmgUtJMh9NJhbeazi-Hihg/s3056/Baptism%20Infographic%20Before%20Color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4CXW1rjLYR1QlpzRRy62YpSrl2pYNzrG_2rJEqKvVEiEU-IjXuzjXpdZQ54TiL8GLmAjYfUvpATmckSNyJTjodno20NNCtbymZUlxqSqp3sYSPJdS6G-2gGaB4jrsh_lWExeLdtLptGjngtESWwtWY5GnEG2kch0G6aNiJDcmgUtJMh9NJhbeazi-Hihg/s320/Baptism%20Infographic%20Before%20Color.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I still find this concept of an infographic intriguing. I'm still looking for ways to incorporate it into my writing classes. Of course, this is the time of year when I find myself yearning for a different way to do the research paper. Or wishing that I didn't have to do a research paper at all. </p><p>Let me record this here: as much as I'm enjoying teaching, I do find myself yearning to do more creative things in class and not having to do some of the traditional stuff, like the research essay. I find myself wishing I could teach less English writing classes and more creativity class. Not so much creative writing, but a class exploring creativity.</p><p>Maybe I just want to play with art supplies.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-54678418973835747462024-03-12T06:25:00.001-04:002024-03-12T06:25:42.464-04:00Pre-Dawn Cooking<p>My spouse said that our kitchen smelled earthy this morning, and he thought it was the rice pudding that I had in the oven. I think it's the small pot of lentils and barley that I also had cooking. I think of the spices that we dumped when we moved, and then once we got settled, trying to replace them all. And now, some of them are old again.</p><p>You might wonder why I'm making rice pudding in the pre-dawn hours. I was making the lentils and barley for lunch and remembered that we had some leftover rice. Did I want to use that instead of the barley? I decided that we still had enough rice for rice pudding, so I went that route, making it while I still had milk in the fridge.</p><p>Yesterday was very strange, speaking of milk. The store had 2% and full fat milk, no 1% or skim. These days, I'm not picky as long as the pull date is much further out than a few days away. We don't consume milk like we once did.</p><p>In some ways, no one consumes like we once did. I read an article that talks about how restaurants that have pivoted to carry out food are doing very well, while sit down dining has yet to return to pre-pandemic levels. Seeing the empty racks where milk once was reminded me of those early days of the pandemic, where many items weren't restocked for weeks. When I think back to what we were about to go through four years ago.</p><p>My experience was so different from most people. I still went in to an office. I was still out and about in the world, even as I was seeing fewer people. I wonder if I'll ever get to a point where mid-March approaches, and I don't think back to 2020.</p><p>Today is a getting back on track day, teaching classes with students returning from Spring Break. I'm also being observed teaching one of those classes. It should be fine, but I'll be glad when it's done. They are not a talkative group, but I have a variety of activities planned.</p><p>Hopefully, once I get through the next few days of interviews, midterm projects, grading, new online classes that I start teaching--hopefully I'll return to more sustained writing and a poem or two.</p><p>Getting back into a seminary rhythm is less hard, since I worked on projects over the break. There is the worry that I'm forgetting something. But that's my constant worry. Whether it's stocking supplies or tending to duties or being on the lookout for the apocalypse, I do worry that I'm forgetting something.</p><p><br /></p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-43532553965044803892024-03-11T09:31:00.001-04:002024-03-11T09:31:30.455-04:00Off Schedule<p>Between travel and the time change, I am off schedule today, and this is a week where my schedule will be disrupted in different ways. Let me collect some reflections before turning my attention to seminary work.</p><p>--I have several interviews this week, which led me to wonder if women are still expected to wear hose to interviews. I will be wearing a well-below-the-knees skirt; I am not a sensible pantsuit woman. I did check to make sure that my dressiest flats were not eaten away by mold from living unworn in my Florida closet for so long. Later today I'll put on the knee high hose I bought today and make sure they still fit. I have had a variety of foot complications since I first bought them, complications like arthritis and hammer toe.</p><p>--I have a variety of midterm projects due for my seminary classes, and happily, they are almost done. While travelling last week, I made good use of early morning time when I was awake, and everyone else was sleeping.</p><p>--Even though it was windier than I like, I really enjoyed driving through the mountains on my way home yesterday. The higher elevations in North Carolina have snow (fresh? remaining? I don't know).</p><p>--I made this Facebook post yesterday: "I thought I was making great time on my Southern Appalachian driving tour. Was it because I was fueled by the music of my misspent youth and a 3 lb bag of baby carrots? No, I just forgot to change the car clock."</p><p>--It's chilly today, with a vicious wind, ahead of pleasant looking temperatures for the rest of the week. So we're letting the oven self-clean. When we lived in Florida, I trained myself to only let the oven self-clean during cold snaps because it heated up the house too much.</p><p>--My oven in South Florida was rarely spotless--not enough cold snaps.</p><p>--As with many years, I did not watch any of the movies up for an Oscar. Maybe I'll get around to that in the coming months.</p><p>--I had planned to get back to a walking schedule today, but this wind cuts right through me. Maybe I'll wait until tomorrow. Or I could go up to the fitness center and do a bit of weight work. </p><p>--But first, let me get back to my Systematic Theology midterm. I had one of those nights where I woke up thinking, this approach is how to finish the paper. Let me write it, before I forget.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-19141550999433197792024-03-10T07:35:00.004-04:002024-03-10T07:35:48.984-04:00Home Away from Home<p>A quick note before I pack up the car and head back across the mountains, back down to my part of the Appalachian chain. I got away for a few days to see my mom, dad, and sister. We met up in Charlottesville, a town where once we lived as a nuclear family. Actually, we lived here twice, and we've all continued to circle back to Charlottesville occasionally.</p><p>We rented a small AirBnB house not too far from the house we rented when we first moved here so that my dad could do an MPA degree at the University of Virginia. We've had fun exploring wineries and breweries and driving around this town that has changed so much.</p><p>It's been great to have a house for a few days, instead of hotel rooms. It's wonderful to be able to cook meals and to spread out. I've gotten a lot of work for classes done--one of the wonders of technology, and of traveling by car, which means I could bring a laptop and lots of books. I am grateful that my sister and I both have spouses who were willing to see to the responsibilities of homes we left behind for a few days.</p><p>I'll state the obvious: we are all growing older, and it's wonderful to still be able to do this, to get away for a few days, to enjoy being together. It's a gift, and I'm grateful that I realize what a gift it is while I still have it.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-65459018639696736682024-03-08T06:16:00.001-05:002024-03-08T06:16:13.007-05:00Channeling Harriet Tubman: International Women's Day 2024<p>March is the month designated to celebrate women's history; March 8 is International Women's Day. We might ask ourselves why we still need to set time apart to pay attention to women. Haven't we enacted laws so that women are equal and now we can just go on with our lives?</p><div>Sadly, no, that is not the case. If we look at basic statistics, like how much women earn compared to men in the very same jobs, we see that the U.S. has still not achieved equality. If we look at who is running corporations and institutions large and small, those people are usually male and white. If we look at violent crime rates across the past 100 years, we discover that most violent crime rates have fallen--except for rape. If we look at representation in local, state, and federal levels, we see that members of government are still mostly white and male.<br /><br />And that's in a first world country. The picture for women in developing nations is bleak. And these past few years have reminded us that legal protections can be stripped away, in every country.<br /><br />Most of us understand why a world where more women have access to equal resources would be a better world for all of us. Many of us have spent years and decades working to make that world a reality. Many of us are so tired at the thought of work left to do--and worse, work that needs doing again.</div><div><br /></div><div>As always, my brain shifts to apocalyptic possibilities, the fact that I may think it's bad now, but worse days may be coming. In times like these, let me channel Harriet Tubman. </div><div><br /></div><div>I picture her appearing in the fields where we're enslaved. I picture her saying, "Wake up. We're going for freedom, and we're going tonight. I've been there, and I can get you there. But we have to leave right now."</div><div><br /></div><div>Sure, I could channel Winston Churchill or FDR, but I like Harriet Tubman. I like Sojourner Truth. I like the vast assortment of female ancestors of all colors, most of whom are nameless, who never gave up, or if they gave up, only allowed themselves to give up for a day or two.</div><div><br /></div>Let us have the courage of Harriet Tubman, who led so many to freedom. Let us have the spirit of Sojourner Truth, who worked tirelessly for social justice, even when she envisioned a better world that many of her contemporaries couldn't see as possible. Let us have the fortitude of generations of women who never stopped believing that a better world was possible and who kept working to make the changes in society that opened doors and broke apart barriers.Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-82681857908767244612024-03-07T06:41:00.000-05:002024-03-07T06:41:02.441-05:00Open Floor Plans<p>I sit here in the drywall dust, perched on a barstool, with my computer on a different writing surface this morning, the teak table that used to be on our front porch in Florida. Is this a metaphor? Perhaps, but it's also my situation. I mention the drywall dust because I thought this stage of the drywall install would not generate so much dust. We haven't gotten to the second part, the mudding and the sanding and more sanding.</p><p>It takes a lot to make a wall--did Robert Frost say something similar? If so, he was talking about some picturesque wall made of stones that had been standing for a century or more. Once, most people would never have a reason to be so intimately acquainted with drywall dust.</p><p>I hold home remodeling shows on TV responsible. People come in to a perfectly good house and demand an "open concept," which means walls must come down and/or be moved. I hope to never do this again. We had an open concept house, but not in the ways that most people mean. At one point, we had so few interior walls, you could see all the way through our house, from kitchen to bathroom to bedroom.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAq4HeOwJUbw655KAkSZekXhl1RuHoxjTBEfiPlWgC-dsXy-np_YG374fbcHLZqHvpnOb7QO5A_m6jALYw1f8krKZPdCm7xOEGQpWHZsTdVgIOME5WDrbbqPXMjd-2gAsL52-_gAAThn_Xvkr16SkUd1C0MOQhCneOLw8ZedQOneMAsGmFx5i7ZZPcl5G/s3056/20230623_165223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAq4HeOwJUbw655KAkSZekXhl1RuHoxjTBEfiPlWgC-dsXy-np_YG374fbcHLZqHvpnOb7QO5A_m6jALYw1f8krKZPdCm7xOEGQpWHZsTdVgIOME5WDrbbqPXMjd-2gAsL52-_gAAThn_Xvkr16SkUd1C0MOQhCneOLw8ZedQOneMAsGmFx5i7ZZPcl5G/s320/20230623_165223.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>At least we know the house has good bones. Another thing about the remodel shows that amuses me--all these flippers buying houses and then being surprised at the old electrical and plumbing infrastructure that must be replaced, all this moaning about how much more it would cost. Don't tear down walls and you won't make these unpleasant discoveries!</p><p>Because of the vaulted ceiling, parts of our house have walls that are so high that we need 3 sheets of drywall. There are many reasons why we hired a drywall team to do some of the work, and that's one of them. I'd like to find a team to do the mudding and the sanding, in the hopes that it could be done in a week or less, but those kinds of crews might be harder to find. We can do the mudding and sanding ourselves, but I wasn't confident in our ability to hoist drywall over our heads and attach it to studs.</p><p>I spent some time last night trying to find a camera angle that would capture the progress that's been made, but finally I decided to use my spouse's:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzzbdFZYri3COtwuLsUmZPbIqB9gc8_XHSPGtZqPQCV6sn8OYrq2nc6YAZXMFWp7vl-vSXmvnhRJREXVFy8HBREOXL2Cp18hyphenhyphenKyT20l-E73HtdRNxY6nz4uAlDHYUErVpyIsjsns_ynRFwOKtI8CNxGRF1a-YSVRbUHeyH2RzK33Vm1C0oSkKbi6XyCdA/s2015/drywall%20install.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2015" data-original-width="1134" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLzzbdFZYri3COtwuLsUmZPbIqB9gc8_XHSPGtZqPQCV6sn8OYrq2nc6YAZXMFWp7vl-vSXmvnhRJREXVFy8HBREOXL2Cp18hyphenhyphenKyT20l-E73HtdRNxY6nz4uAlDHYUErVpyIsjsns_ynRFwOKtI8CNxGRF1a-YSVRbUHeyH2RzK33Vm1C0oSkKbi6XyCdA/s320/drywall%20install.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>This picture will give you a sense of how the house looked before:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc6YqA4FklVYqaHsXmlLZsdH51j9ineTtmC3SFfrng_7iWMwF1CnKkHs5o8iw5fgIN0CErYD_Sljxx7izv_-LSaXz4Daq-52ariraEhqMpIUaG7YTdPEe60AZ0c812nuJM6LR0i8oYHASTaZirHvInrBjcfI9qSkuhB4QtMi5Q9DaY_ddennyLuUdVihM/s3056/20230622_084832.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwc6YqA4FklVYqaHsXmlLZsdH51j9ineTtmC3SFfrng_7iWMwF1CnKkHs5o8iw5fgIN0CErYD_Sljxx7izv_-LSaXz4Daq-52ariraEhqMpIUaG7YTdPEe60AZ0c812nuJM6LR0i8oYHASTaZirHvInrBjcfI9qSkuhB4QtMi5Q9DaY_ddennyLuUdVihM/s320/20230622_084832.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>And here's an even older picture, of the paneling which we took down, in favor of the drywall:</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xXFcJM1IyLkI14RBYa2899KfAbo4uc_O_kmkFLEg2iu4-PMWIDRy6HavFqHxu3SSdWTACiRdgBxHYh6yJxFWq9QmdjCXePqDDH7g3MRW07Svk6PE-1C0jhuBjFPDyfMoCXvkIm6Cu2nUvQe4PWvjmn3-7wKwJNrfQMnGrfYPIT9a2IQMHULhiuLinXBQ/s2592/100_5437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-xXFcJM1IyLkI14RBYa2899KfAbo4uc_O_kmkFLEg2iu4-PMWIDRy6HavFqHxu3SSdWTACiRdgBxHYh6yJxFWq9QmdjCXePqDDH7g3MRW07Svk6PE-1C0jhuBjFPDyfMoCXvkIm6Cu2nUvQe4PWvjmn3-7wKwJNrfQMnGrfYPIT9a2IQMHULhiuLinXBQ/s320/100_5437.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>We decided to leave the landing, which we're calling the pulpit, for many reasons. It's not in the way, and it gives us options later. At some point, we may need to put a staircase back in, when we're elderly and can't climb up that loft ladder. We're keeping our future floor plans open.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-70218332329544770772024-03-06T06:46:00.001-05:002024-03-06T08:22:53.623-05:00Midway Through Spring Break<p>While my spouse stays home to supervise the installation of drywall, I am traveling this week, with a brief stop back home tonight. What have I done so far?</p><p>--Visited grad school friends--always a treat.</p><p>--Got a rough draft of my Systematic Theology midterm written. That's a relief.</p><p>--Gotten some grading done; no matter the time of year, having grading to do seems constant, unless it's the weeks between December 17 and January 5.</p><p>--Gone on a driving tour of favorite places, which includes the campus of LTSS, or as I've more commonly referred to it, Southern Seminary. On a Monday evening in March, the campus was dark and deserted, which probably means it is a campus on Spring Break, as all the schools I attend are on Spring Break, a strange aligning this year.</p><p>--Helped a friend envision a kitchen remodel, which involved driving to Lowe's, which meant we drove past the former Columbia Mall, a place so deserted I didn't even recognize it--and yes, I do see the metaphors.</p><p>--Sat by a friend's firepit as the late afternoon light shifted to overcast twilight and her fairy lights twinkled. Earlier we scavenged wood under the boughs of her grapevines, and we talked about how much we would have loved such an enchanted place when we were children. Turns out, we love such an enchanted place as grown women too!</p><p>--Watched coverage of Super Tuesday elections and remembered Super Tuesdays of past years.</p><p>--Read Super Tuesday coverage of ordinary people voting in extraordinary times and felt hope. <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2024/03/05/nikki-haley-voters-super-tuesday/">This Opinion piece</a> in <i>The Washington Post</i> is my favorite so far.</p><p>--Sorted seeds with my friend who has space and sunshine enough to plant them and felt hope.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-66838626001278921232024-03-03T06:41:00.000-05:002024-03-03T06:41:00.240-05:00Hearing "Beth" (Yes, that Song by KISS) in a New Context<p>It has been a strange week-end, a week-end where I've tried to work ahead on the writing that I do for my minister job at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, Tennessee, while also trying to help my spouse with plumbing and the other tasks that need to happen before the dry wall installing team arrives tomorrow. Yesterday, I made this Facebook post, which sums up the week-end in so many ways:</p><p>"I'm working on a sermon, and my spouse is listening to a KISS album while working on rerouting the plumbing, and I'm hearing the song "Beth" and thinking about how 11 year old Kristin heard this song and imagined a future life which didn't really involve plumbing or sermon writing or feeling nostalgia for men in make up."</p><p>When I was young, I saw that song as an achingly beautiful love song. Now that I am older, I am seeing it as a song that shows how difficult it is to balance the needs of a creative life with the needs of a partner. And as we listened to the album, it was a much softer kind of album than I remember it being. Of course, KISS was never one of the bands that held my heart. I found them scary, probably in the same way that many parents do.</p><p>I've been feeling a bit of despair about my lack of coherent poetry writing. I jot down a line or two, or a stanza or two, but very little comes that feels worth revising and polishing. Perhaps it's the state of the world we're in. More likely, it's that my writing energy is being channeled in other ways right now.</p><p>Take the past three days for example. I've written 3300 words for just my church job. That doesn't count any of the writing that I've done as a student. It's no wonder that there's not much wonder left for my poetry brain to feed on.</p><p>I've been in this writing state before. Poetry has returned, often in a richer way than before. I will be patient and keep the garden bed mulched. At some point, sprouts will emerge.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-64328686148622757192024-03-02T07:58:00.003-05:002024-03-02T08:00:03.886-05:00News of a Seminary RelocationYesterday was a mix: a wintry mix that turned to rain which lasted all day, lots of cooking (chicken stock and pumpkin bread), sermon research, never as much writing as I hope to do but some. And then, in the late afternoon, news that the Lutheran seminary in Columbia (LTSS) will be relocating to the Hickory, NC campus of Lenoir-Rhyne. If you want lots of information, <a href="https://www.lr.edu/ltss-future">this website</a> is fairly comprehensive.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cI6lIQrUTiISJNaYKwuiWKxhmKPb-fqGoA1atFSwNOYl7JRfhJ5FXu8A8PpsIwe0rotYLlhQO5z5X0KMxj4HrWYT7ukjrQoRR7krl1d9pNM898IOgg5bO93D91F4OiLsdU8SNWq8oztNKzL8W9wqk6tvsZyMbHRk_qC-kgv_AujPkfNeY2xUGWL8vENd/s1600/IMG_8163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7cI6lIQrUTiISJNaYKwuiWKxhmKPb-fqGoA1atFSwNOYl7JRfhJ5FXu8A8PpsIwe0rotYLlhQO5z5X0KMxj4HrWYT7ukjrQoRR7krl1d9pNM898IOgg5bO93D91F4OiLsdU8SNWq8oztNKzL8W9wqk6tvsZyMbHRk_qC-kgv_AujPkfNeY2xUGWL8vENd/s320/IMG_8163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div>Of course, that website can't tell me some of what I'd most like to know--it can't predict the future, and it can't give me specific details about professors. There's no mention of the spiritual direction certificate program, which I imagine will relocate along with the seminary.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw7NjxfW67OWexNSor1Z7rxTpk1hXiLOsG_0ZkR4Bzc-fLros5Yo3fpl5TcyLqYvSbqjPTyylBRqj0gdBnxYoUYM1LpQfITYqp6-1aybyYx3mR76SphZvbAu43ffm9qsGeUqvml_qqMTGYASNpw0GCXOKi01Vx__AhLJJJm0zmbm8szFjMYOwH2SuYBIK/s1600/IMG_8157.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuw7NjxfW67OWexNSor1Z7rxTpk1hXiLOsG_0ZkR4Bzc-fLros5Yo3fpl5TcyLqYvSbqjPTyylBRqj0gdBnxYoUYM1LpQfITYqp6-1aybyYx3mR76SphZvbAu43ffm9qsGeUqvml_qqMTGYASNpw0GCXOKi01Vx__AhLJJJm0zmbm8szFjMYOwH2SuYBIK/s320/IMG_8157.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The graph that shows enrollment is shocking, but not surprising. If I'm interpreting the graph correctly, there are 40 MDiv students enrolled right now. When I attended graduation in May, I was surprised by how few seminary graduates there were; the bulk of graduates were in Occupational Therapy and other programs run out of the Columbia campus. Each time I've been on campus during the past few years, I've been surprised by how few people are on the campus. Lenoir-Rhyne is formalizing what has been happening informally for years, if not decades.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3CaG6nkoL-kfSYgY1pEtpTHfiMnn4TJcPAO6b2ZShMr4M2NF8UylWBSkQjBIqvqCcemUxyQvlA3j8wQIbzIcLMh_5vwXCd_0PkHjgjI2ulub1LO8XlzHxWA0YozcosITMwPTYuLinM9tLi_7LwWVAE31oSMtgxNlcmCYV_qe3iisVqCdkH9Jb6PS62P5/s1600/IMG_8164.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg3CaG6nkoL-kfSYgY1pEtpTHfiMnn4TJcPAO6b2ZShMr4M2NF8UylWBSkQjBIqvqCcemUxyQvlA3j8wQIbzIcLMh_5vwXCd_0PkHjgjI2ulub1LO8XlzHxWA0YozcosITMwPTYuLinM9tLi_7LwWVAE31oSMtgxNlcmCYV_qe3iisVqCdkH9Jb6PS62P5/s320/IMG_8164.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I do wonder what will happen to the campus. If I had several million . . . wait, it would take more than several million. Even if I could buy the campus for several million, there's still lots of maintenance work that needs to happen, millions in deferred maintenance. And I can barely manage a small house on a small piece of land; why do I think I can handle a small campus?</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNWAg2NYQTyOExc9fM5AM5EV33_2MXpeIksTuPY46Vm1OfjGJXreoWZC1FJ_qNmXFZfvrRHKMyqmNV47E-41m4HWDDeOZ06sRd1m765iBXUIvudGLDDinouejG5LNwv7L5fOuznaSZFNDL9sdE44MrV6JvLJ8H47tgdts0hbpY7PoFtpdtQPPKTpAMYyC/s1600/IMG_8206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNWAg2NYQTyOExc9fM5AM5EV33_2MXpeIksTuPY46Vm1OfjGJXreoWZC1FJ_qNmXFZfvrRHKMyqmNV47E-41m4HWDDeOZ06sRd1m765iBXUIvudGLDDinouejG5LNwv7L5fOuznaSZFNDL9sdE44MrV6JvLJ8H47tgdts0hbpY7PoFtpdtQPPKTpAMYyC/s320/IMG_8206.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I imagine that the departure won't mean much to the larger city of Columbia--there are other schools and universities that are much more integral to the economy of the town and the state. And I do understand that by being at the larger Lenoir-Rhyne campus, seminarians can take a wider diversity of classes, like language classes, management classes, and a huge array of counseling classes. Those kinds of classes would have been available at the University of South Carolina, but it's not easy to take classes elsewhere and get them transferred back in, not easy for schools to create transferability. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWOLY0Q_TSqAFvfbp1Tdkr2WHBwYp5wBEc-si7iTMCPFeAYL4_6DV3S08GQGSF9kxAvdFSpb7gqWTGwwBVQ_BBhig-kJ5-yuRi3ktr47OBc5_rUZ3iN8LkN3YeEcavdabbLPsdelsvzuqZJ3alZtddR2CgD6Bj2hyphenhyphen66aiW5WKvnOzCrr_AzIqV1zCQZR_/s1600/IMG_8165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWOLY0Q_TSqAFvfbp1Tdkr2WHBwYp5wBEc-si7iTMCPFeAYL4_6DV3S08GQGSF9kxAvdFSpb7gqWTGwwBVQ_BBhig-kJ5-yuRi3ktr47OBc5_rUZ3iN8LkN3YeEcavdabbLPsdelsvzuqZJ3alZtddR2CgD6Bj2hyphenhyphen66aiW5WKvnOzCrr_AzIqV1zCQZR_/s320/IMG_8165.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel most bad for students who will have decisions to make. A move from Columbia, SC to Hickory, NC is no small thing--it's not a commutable distance. There's never a good time to endure this kind of upheaval. Potential seminarians with families to consider have probably already made different decisions. Other seminaries have done a better job with distance learning that LTSS, and students who needed flexibility probably made different choices along the way; I know that I did.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3XaRZ9fSzyqr1MPO8DhC4I2bzMEIV5JLNys5A_NIlzWY_EuEC5X_MTi4-gxEcKiCbI05CeGYYUH5GUZjwjQRsOkf_Pd4ssLxVLhcRlzeXA-6wC0K0J6gT_2_nhW1NRcV1VNMF0FpJnTjrhflkIsMl2iNiJKqn06Ic2fEVnyGacRlwZsn0-4rJiN6nWSN/s1600/IMG_8204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3XaRZ9fSzyqr1MPO8DhC4I2bzMEIV5JLNys5A_NIlzWY_EuEC5X_MTi4-gxEcKiCbI05CeGYYUH5GUZjwjQRsOkf_Pd4ssLxVLhcRlzeXA-6wC0K0J6gT_2_nhW1NRcV1VNMF0FpJnTjrhflkIsMl2iNiJKqn06Ic2fEVnyGacRlwZsn0-4rJiN6nWSN/s320/IMG_8204.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel sadness, too, because of family history. My grandfather and great uncle went to that seminary, and various friends of mine did too. I completed my certificate in Spiritual Direction there and loved the campus, even as I wondered where all the people had gone.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmh1yVPacZAaEGrX0IXDvmpQabDWIl6dKt7fvCuqU3U_ogGCyhb9ylVlqY_zMc_a-siUgGbRHCGiXckyTsIIfr0glrevlYeIDVD6EdbLxeN1WQd51bNbj3G_zR8TPuh9NfNWXkTG5ODevQ9846LLN5p9edwBvHqOdlwrvZw6e-KmBEB_819j0vZx57-tX/s1600/IMG_8168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmh1yVPacZAaEGrX0IXDvmpQabDWIl6dKt7fvCuqU3U_ogGCyhb9ylVlqY_zMc_a-siUgGbRHCGiXckyTsIIfr0glrevlYeIDVD6EdbLxeN1WQd51bNbj3G_zR8TPuh9NfNWXkTG5ODevQ9846LLN5p9edwBvHqOdlwrvZw6e-KmBEB_819j0vZx57-tX/s320/IMG_8168.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I feel more than a quiver of worry about larger aspects of the future and the decline of all sorts of higher ed. It's not just seminary enrollments that are down. There's a lack of support for higher ed, and all the other kinds of education, in this country and beyond. I know that some people are worried about what the decline in seminaries means for the future of the Church, and I do think/hope that people are having those conversations in a larger way, in the groups that do more of the decision making. I have a sense of the larger scope of history, and I know that times of wrenching change can bring all sorts of positive developments in the aftermath.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HGeVxJeX_2s28pyEHukSzwr3sBzYxPn9umKoLwvjEjQE_Hwl6yhouTFHSj4dX1rsMCZkUPbo8eWQYPRFoKANBIbdWWP5ugZ_111S_8AauwJng_qvWlyt4JAqeuW6Y5N88jWNm5B-JOg0hz074qyZWYqQdK6PkcikWBtbIXqE1d4gLxR24OJCbGegkk-a/s1600/IMG_8158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HGeVxJeX_2s28pyEHukSzwr3sBzYxPn9umKoLwvjEjQE_Hwl6yhouTFHSj4dX1rsMCZkUPbo8eWQYPRFoKANBIbdWWP5ugZ_111S_8AauwJng_qvWlyt4JAqeuW6Y5N88jWNm5B-JOg0hz074qyZWYqQdK6PkcikWBtbIXqE1d4gLxR24OJCbGegkk-a/s320/IMG_8158.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Let now be one of those periods (and let the wrenching change give way to positive developments sooner rather than later).</div></div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-72007115483429332142024-03-01T07:26:00.005-05:002024-03-01T07:26:48.599-05:00March, Meteorological Spring<p>A new month--is March coming in like a lion or a lamb? It depends. We have a wintry mix forecast for this morning, but tomorrow, the high is supposed to be in the 60's. Of course, in month we expect this meteorological whiplash. It is the first day of Spring--meteorological spring.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJjO5mgX33TaCbl4-0i1-PietvstneycDVUYF5zKWQEGgjhsPUyifPlTgFbqF4lx_f1f1nrRemyMa7cflhS9BZyZeh0xsMTK1QOqeEKsNfz6G0G9QKv70WzX1rMsgcV-vTJuCm95x_LRWkBgIW__HFmyesH9D0Ftbn2Q_c9xQrGpLy3NE3UIZ7UwcCX_g/s3056/20240301_070742.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaJjO5mgX33TaCbl4-0i1-PietvstneycDVUYF5zKWQEGgjhsPUyifPlTgFbqF4lx_f1f1nrRemyMa7cflhS9BZyZeh0xsMTK1QOqeEKsNfz6G0G9QKv70WzX1rMsgcV-vTJuCm95x_LRWkBgIW__HFmyesH9D0Ftbn2Q_c9xQrGpLy3NE3UIZ7UwcCX_g/s320/20240301_070742.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>Earlier this week, I had wondered if my daffodil bulbs would spring into life. Around the neighborhood, we have lots of daffodils in full bloom. My yard doesn't have as much sun as the rest of the neighborhood so I haven't been surprised that my daffodils aren't showing signs of life.</p><p>And then, on Wednesday, when I took the trash cans to the curb in the late afternoon, I saw the first stalks from my bulbs, the ones that we planted along the fence line. An hour later, when my spouse noticed stalks along the other fence line. I would swear that they weren't there when I took my walk in the morning. If I had camped out by the fence line in the afternoon, would I have seen the stalks poking through the soil and leaf cover?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcLFTPCKIhcPmjfpw7iqUmz60UTZLYgrmbgazXzvVauUMt9NA9xWcOaD79DDuq2r6BOyDDMqHDQIULH5bDhM8yZc-uU-wCFFQ2PKelVN1sBozwKclSogdDXCidFROZBTWg1VjMdBg0S9AyFwhcnk6rlQyf60jFL_rmX8uUJyzaL4wDOVJwX3vts36rrPz/s3056/20240301_070807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcLFTPCKIhcPmjfpw7iqUmz60UTZLYgrmbgazXzvVauUMt9NA9xWcOaD79DDuq2r6BOyDDMqHDQIULH5bDhM8yZc-uU-wCFFQ2PKelVN1sBozwKclSogdDXCidFROZBTWg1VjMdBg0S9AyFwhcnk6rlQyf60jFL_rmX8uUJyzaL4wDOVJwX3vts36rrPz/s320/20240301_070807.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>My brain always turns to metaphors, but I'm aware of the dangers of a tired and worn out metaphor. But the metaphor of seeds and bulbs sprouting before anyone realizes what's going on--that metaphor always seems relevant to me, even though admittedly, it's not a new metaphor. </p><p>I think of all the parables of Jesus, parables that involve seeds and soil--yes, not a new metaphor at all.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2mSJwKRAdzAE6l58SpfCe0DvQqmFaqPmIHW2Aew22fyhzHQsWJ8wJzRFUq0H1Zop1Zu6ogPvJSbNtwa9PdaW8zW3PnNqw2RjdCZgCb0SXGWVqDhlTeB2AhLQvztNB1Vvx-ytfJbGl_ILSUbzjb6lYwsf4F71C1fS6DQEz4fI1l9gxluYKA8pnkPhCj1L/s3056/20240301_070835.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW2mSJwKRAdzAE6l58SpfCe0DvQqmFaqPmIHW2Aew22fyhzHQsWJ8wJzRFUq0H1Zop1Zu6ogPvJSbNtwa9PdaW8zW3PnNqw2RjdCZgCb0SXGWVqDhlTeB2AhLQvztNB1Vvx-ytfJbGl_ILSUbzjb6lYwsf4F71C1fS6DQEz4fI1l9gxluYKA8pnkPhCj1L/s320/20240301_070835.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>And now, the wintry mix is falling. It's much more ice/freezing rain than it is snow. Hang on, little daffodils!</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-27427604618857203702024-02-29T06:46:00.002-05:002024-02-29T13:53:25.825-05:00Imaging Inspirations<p>Yesterday I went for my mammogram. In some ways, it's no big deal; women go for mammograms everyday, and I have hopes that mine will be just as routine (in other words, it wasn't a follow up mammogram). But yesterday, I reflected on how much has changed since my first mammogram, and that seems worth a blog post.</p><p>--My first mammogram was in 2019, just after I turned 54, which is much later than many women get their first mammogram. But I was using earlier guidance, which said a baseline mammogram at age 50 was fine, and I hadn't seen any evidence that convinced me to get an earlier mammogram. I might make different decisions now, an earlier baseline, but not annual mammograms until I was in my 50's. </p><p>--When I got my first mammogram, I didn't know any women my age with a recent diagnosis (maybe I did, and they didn't tell me; I can't be sure). Now, just 5 years later, I know several, including my sister.</p><p>--I got my second mammogram in 2021 because of my sister's diagnosis. I paid extra then, to get the 3D imaging. Yesterday, it was the standard mammogram. Back then, my health insurance that my company paid for was supposed to cover preventative care, like mammograms. It was cheaper for me to pay for the 3D imaging out of pocket, the fee charged to people with no insurance, than to cover my portion of the health insurance fees that came with extra imaging.</p><p>--I thought about how many people I know with a cancer diagnosis in the past four years, and perhaps more significantly, how many people my age and younger who are dropping dead of massive heart attacks. Maybe it's just the result of getting older (I turn 59 this summer). But it feels ominous, like hearing that bird flu has arrived in Antarctica.</p><p>--Why did I wait so long between my 2021 mammogram and this one? I had no idea that there would be such a wait to get a primary care doctor in my new location. We moved in July of 2022, a summer of hand therapists and surgeon's follow ups after my broken wrist. I thought about a mammogram, but decided to get one later, since I had just had one ten months ago. Going forward, I do plan to get a yearly mammogram, since so many of my contemporaries have some scary stories of regular exams and still developing cancer.</p><p>--I signed up for the very first appointment of the morning, at 7:<span> 15. The imaging center was in one of those Town Centre type places, which was nearby, but not well marked. Because it was so early, I walked around the building a few times before seeing the door. Perhaps the bank of electrical equipment should have been a cue, but I thought it was servicing the elevator in the lobby behind the locked doors. The entrance to the imaging center was obvious because of the privacy blinds that blocked not only intrusive gazes and sunlight, but also the light from inside that would have let me know that the door existed, that there was a portal to the clinical office. Happily, I gave myself plenty of time to arrive early.</span></p><p><span>--As I walked back to the car, I saw the shelves of a restaurant kitchen through a window, shelves with lots of huge cans of tomato based products. Maybe it's for decoration, or maybe they really do use that much ketchup in a week.</span></p><p><span>--I have several poem ideas, which was a happy surprise. And let me record something that is more of an inspiration than a full blown idea. I thought about the term "tissue" and how I often think of it as a wispy kind of thing, the Kleenex in a pocket. I thought of body tissue, which is often dense and fibrous, and yet, easy to destroy, in some ways.</span></p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-76267432300381991952024-02-27T05:50:00.001-05:002024-02-27T05:50:41.630-05:00Spring Weather and HibernationOn Sunday, I went to bed at 7:15 p.m. and slept until 3 a.m., which I figured was kind of strange, but I thought I was likely up for the day. At 6 a.m. yesterday morning, I thought that I was still tired and decided to see what would happen if I laid back down. I watched the moon setting, and I drifted off to sleep. I slept until almost 10.<div><br /></div><div>That kind of schedule disruption can be discombobulating, but luckily, I didn't have much on my schedule, aside from the regular activities of seminary work, teaching tasks, thinking ahead to Sunday's sermon and exercising. I went on a walk in the beautiful mid-afternoon weather and made this Facebook post:</div><div><br /></div><div>"Lots of delights to be had on a walk on a sunny Monday in February with close to record breaking heat. But I want to remember the small children playing on their driveway with plastic flower pots on their heads, which reminded me of that Devo album cover from so long ago. I didn't want to ruin their fun or make them feel self-conscious, so I didn't take a picture--you'll just have to use your imagination."</div><div><br /></div><div>I was walking in shorts and a sleeveless T-shirt--amazing for late February. I kept an eye on the sunset, but it was not as stunning as I thought it would be.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did get a rough draft done of my essay that I need to submit when I apply for affiliation with United Lutheran Seminary. Hurrah! I had been feeling the weight of that, even though it's on a topic that I could write about for days (my call and the future of the church). Maybe that's part of the problem, that I feel I could write about it for days, and the assignment is 5-7 double spaced pages.</div><div><br /></div><div>What I have not done as much of is poetry writing. Part of me thinks it's because the other parts of my life are all consuming right now. I've gone through these phases before. But there's always that worry that maybe poetry writing is gone forever. And even if poetry publishing is gone forever, I want to still see the world through the eyes of my poet self, making interesting connections, seeing imagery and symbolism. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I look through my poetry rough draft folder, I see that I'm not as far gone as I thought. I usually begin a draft once a week. It's much more rare to actually revise them into something more polished. And now, while my various school duties are more intense, that seems fine to me.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-76939065155608894142024-02-24T07:52:00.002-05:002024-02-24T07:53:54.461-05:00An Old-Fashioned Friday Fish Fry at Faith Lutheran<p>Last night we went to an old-fashioned fish fry, the kind that a church does when it's a Friday in Lent. We're not Catholic, but at Faith Lutheran in Bristol, TN, we do have members who grew up in other parts of the country, so they have fond memories of the fish fries done by their local churches every Friday in Lent.</p><p>In fact, in our first meeting, we were on a Zoom call. I was in D.C., the Synod rep was in Atlanta, and the church was in the fellowship hall, getting ready for one of the fish fries. I was impressed then, and I remain impressed after participating last night.</p><p>We headed out about 2:15, which meant we got there early enough to do a bit of helping with the last of the set up. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBpZ7oKbE0D39KlYoDHacT_VPifQv0_UWHvCHXHusnXjBFWCb_3NLu650tghXEpwQgFO3LhraqiEW5MCkYKrmgEAhpu_p6QcqP2_Zyd0IV9xvu_MNJqfMs-Ly8aEc7bTSgxEx4_Ar5iC4aAWMF06ygN0RB3CTcyJGEidetiYOR-pWFsBT6DnntX67HVpu/s3056/20240223_162909%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBBpZ7oKbE0D39KlYoDHacT_VPifQv0_UWHvCHXHusnXjBFWCb_3NLu650tghXEpwQgFO3LhraqiEW5MCkYKrmgEAhpu_p6QcqP2_Zyd0IV9xvu_MNJqfMs-Ly8aEc7bTSgxEx4_Ar5iC4aAWMF06ygN0RB3CTcyJGEidetiYOR-pWFsBT6DnntX67HVpu/s320/20240223_162909%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I helped put pieces of cake in plastic clamshell containers, and my spouse got the fish fry area ready. And then we hit the ground running.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlkjyAVhV12v99xWm66vq5KiijkpxKssumdGzfoY8MEg3A4Ufv_OhstZqqEBIIXmXzgvfM4c-HAbu_rTWUvKkd4I_Xo0_O-kHnS0ri1RInwHEdlkNSobpJxkOETIk0_tdVBuZ8KC1rCmLFwbcZmeE82k51GR_719F2Gc-X8pnoWlpgv8ao4RGHIUESyFu/s3056/20240224_074652%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="1246" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlkjyAVhV12v99xWm66vq5KiijkpxKssumdGzfoY8MEg3A4Ufv_OhstZqqEBIIXmXzgvfM4c-HAbu_rTWUvKkd4I_Xo0_O-kHnS0ri1RInwHEdlkNSobpJxkOETIk0_tdVBuZ8KC1rCmLFwbcZmeE82k51GR_719F2Gc-X8pnoWlpgv8ao4RGHIUESyFu/s320/20240224_074652%5B1%5D.jpg" width="130" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I was one of the servers on the line. When we started, I couldn't imagine we'd serve all the food, but we ran out of rolls and green beans, which after a quick run to the store, we had more to offer. The same was not true of the macaroni and cheese. We had enough for most people, but the church people who waited until the end didn't have any. We had plenty of fish, both fried and baked, and a wide variety of desserts.</p><p>The fish fry started at 5, and the biggest crowds came at 5:15, and then again at 5:30 and periodically after that. We didn't run out of seats, and everyone was seated in the fellowship hall, which isn't a huge space.</p><p>It was great to sit at a table at the end and eat with the team that pulled it all together and did the bulk of the work. There was no political discussion, no theological discussion--we mainly talked recipes, since all of the food was prepared from scratch, not by the chemists at Costco.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQGOSphRo33tLYzYfGfhgf3qHMNptJ_FNfD9QZy9WzNu0mCcTWtTv0_1iof0zaancCPGSXkjfSSIHAhSRQ9RIIncQAlKSH2S7Zi6SBcNJRr6X3vMNL6ZVc1BmOh3Da-ae5XlZTKcu5nRlfd-97e7Y6GpuGZWqNwJUMfYH8SMqDXwhRIBn5yCZ3o0yVaSB/s3056/20240223_162610%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQGOSphRo33tLYzYfGfhgf3qHMNptJ_FNfD9QZy9WzNu0mCcTWtTv0_1iof0zaancCPGSXkjfSSIHAhSRQ9RIIncQAlKSH2S7Zi6SBcNJRr6X3vMNL6ZVc1BmOh3Da-ae5XlZTKcu5nRlfd-97e7Y6GpuGZWqNwJUMfYH8SMqDXwhRIBn5yCZ3o0yVaSB/s320/20240223_162610%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>It was a fun event, and seemed to pull from many parts of the community. The church has 3 more fish fries scheduled, and I'd be willing to go to them all. </p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-30711474713033050882024-02-23T07:03:00.001-05:002024-02-23T07:03:11.624-05:00Infographics and How We LearnToday I started a file to store the infographics I've been creating for my Foundations of Worship class. I've had 3 assignments now. They're not exactly sketches, although I don't have qualms about putting them in that file. But it seems better to give them their own file, now that I have three of them.<div><br /></div><div>I've created three of them: a lectionary season wheel, an infographic that explains how we came to worship on Sundays (the first Christians were Jews, after all, who likely added a communion-like observance to the end of Shabbat observance), and an infographic that explains baptism.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's an interesting assignment, both from an artistic angle and a teaching/learning angle. Let me be clear that we're not being graded on our artistic skill, which is good. I've been happy with what I've produced, although it's not always matched what I had in mind. The lectionary wheel was closest to what I had in mind when I started:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHEG0gIUgwNTnnIO3k7AHrioBibOrRRnA7ah8OWkkFOUuoIyGLs0nKerRgn5TjEDzf80TDTiuludqKw7KEB0zmOI8hNaU6J_IdBXi8yyk-l240-TPt77CHb2aQU9HoRkM4F1ZUkpe_0ss500pwcrwFisA3d_-B0TbgiO0z52k3KmdaD-mBtg5jPOIQc_c/s3056/20240207_174834.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHEG0gIUgwNTnnIO3k7AHrioBibOrRRnA7ah8OWkkFOUuoIyGLs0nKerRgn5TjEDzf80TDTiuludqKw7KEB0zmOI8hNaU6J_IdBXi8yyk-l240-TPt77CHb2aQU9HoRkM4F1ZUkpe_0ss500pwcrwFisA3d_-B0TbgiO0z52k3KmdaD-mBtg5jPOIQc_c/s320/20240207_174834.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>For the infographic on Sunday worship, I didn't even have much in mind for the graphic part of the assignment. I added some sunrise/sunset colors and a drawing to suggest Shabbat and called it done, even though it's more info than graphic:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgNA7yeVqIKUWXME9WyqVHFO-O4R6oh-Ij3OUmKHEuvbIHycHHCd_yPKdDQEYLFmfNKHVP2NUKOyv947lGJq2TK02FoX9Ee_iBYGFUbvxW8QQLPzXLO30wdLncREYBwAE4ySOtM1rgelZBGZIEG5_RUznSCej1SVLmCJjcIygSmEMCnwfmX1l6KVg-vn-/s3056/20240207_175219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgNA7yeVqIKUWXME9WyqVHFO-O4R6oh-Ij3OUmKHEuvbIHycHHCd_yPKdDQEYLFmfNKHVP2NUKOyv947lGJq2TK02FoX9Ee_iBYGFUbvxW8QQLPzXLO30wdLncREYBwAE4ySOtM1rgelZBGZIEG5_RUznSCej1SVLmCJjcIygSmEMCnwfmX1l6KVg-vn-/s320/20240207_175219.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not going to include the baptism infographic since it hasn't been graded, and I don't want to risk that the antiplagiarism software would flag it if I post it here before my professor grades it.</div><div><br /></div><div>From a teaching/learning perspective, it's been interesting. For the most part, we're condensing what we've read into key points, so it lets our professor see if we understand the reading. Even if someone had absolutely no sketching or doodling skills, one could do this assignment, either by using fewer illustrations or by collaging. And of course, there's now a whole world of computer generated stuff that one could create or find, if one had computing skills.</div><div><br /></div><div>Could I use the idea of an infographic in my English classes that I teach? It's obvious how I could use infographics in Literature classes. But could I use them in a Composition class? Let me ponder this.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-60785243800422382282024-02-22T06:31:00.004-05:002024-02-22T06:31:40.038-05:00Voting in the North Carolina Primary<p>Yesterday, we voted in the North Carolina primary.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DgjaKRNdlKP97oNsmTrNOc79DdCGR3UYUr8LTawv76dTirGgD1DjDW6t0N3vmGwMfNs2mtJe19sbts7tHWLVO45VLvy37-lv8s2bhUgLzhir4BT5USbC3HOfa6deM83r_La16jlWCdQQg1MYaFG5tpxGSBufZM8jx7v0LuuIWB9LeU4xEQoZ6sC6Ntgq/s3056/20240222_055259%5B1%5D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9DgjaKRNdlKP97oNsmTrNOc79DdCGR3UYUr8LTawv76dTirGgD1DjDW6t0N3vmGwMfNs2mtJe19sbts7tHWLVO45VLvy37-lv8s2bhUgLzhir4BT5USbC3HOfa6deM83r_La16jlWCdQQg1MYaFG5tpxGSBufZM8jx7v0LuuIWB9LeU4xEQoZ6sC6Ntgq/s320/20240222_055259%5B1%5D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p>I have fond memories of voting in South Carolina primaries in the late 80's and early 90's. The state was just as Republican then as it is now, so we knew that almost any vote for a Democrat wouldn't matter in presidential contests. In primaries, I voted for Jesse Jackson in 1988, and at the time, I thought it unlikely that I'd ever see a candidate who wasn't white win a presidential bid. I'm thankful I was wrong.</p><p>I voted for a woman, too, but I can't remember which one. It was likely whichever candidate the Green party had chosen.</p><p>Last night, I tried to remember why we hadn't voted in Florida primaries, and then I remembered. The only people who Florida allows to vote in primaries are people who choose a party affiliation when they register to vote. I have always registered as an independent.</p><p>North Carolina allows independents to vote, but only in one of the primaries: Democrat, Libertarian, or Republican. South Carolina used to give everyone the same ballot, as if it was a regular election day, and the voter could mix and match between parties. They may still do that, but I haven't voted in a South Carolina election in decades, so I can't be sure.</p><p>Yesterday, I voted in the Republican primary. In many of the races, that's the candidate who will win in this electorally strange state, so I want to help winnow that field. On the Democratic side, I'm less concerned about ruling out any of those candidates, so I felt less compelled to vote in that primary. As for Libertarians, we live in a time where third parties don't have much of a chance, so I'm not wasting a vote that way.</p><p>Yesterday we went to vote at the local public library which is nestled between a public high school, a public elementary school, and several churches that have been in existence for longer than the school or library buildings. I thought about what this country has built, what it has deemed essential for the public good (schools! libraries! institutions that house multitudes! separation of church and state! caretakers of the souls who are living and dead and the graveyards!). I said a prayer, both of thanks and supplication that they may continue to exist and thrive. </p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-62309592492033769082024-02-21T07:44:00.006-05:002024-02-21T07:44:59.004-05:00The Good Kind of Tired<p>I feel tired today in ways that mystify me, as if yesterday was a heavy duty day. Of course, in some ways, it was: I drove down to Spartanburg, spent the day teaching, drove back, helped my spouse with a job application (much more cumbersome a process than it sounds, with all the information needing to be entered on a job portal that was clunky and repetitive), and then went to a neighborhood committee meeting.</p><p>Today I've got some writing to do for seminary in the morning, two different Zoom sessions this evening and quilting in between. I shouldn't feel tired, but I do.</p><p>Let me also remember that I got a lot of work done on Monday, which also leaves me tired. And all of this tiredness is the good kind of tired.</p><p>I feel grateful that I'm at a time when I have a lot to think about, but it's all stuff I want to be thinking about. My brain is not filled with accreditation issues. I am not stressed about money or home repairs (yes, we have lots of home repairs that need to be done, but I'm not stressed about them, at least not today). I feel very lucky.</p>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-19201556831945271272024-02-20T06:30:00.000-05:002024-02-21T07:23:40.372-05:00Teaching Performance ReviewI only have time for the briefest of writings today. Soon I need to get ready to head down the mountain to teach my English classes at Spartanburg Methodist College. It's that time of the semester when I'm not sure which technique is best for my English Composition classes, but I'm about to decide on a week of mini-conferences next week and a time to write together on Thursday. <div><br /></div><div>I always feel this odd guilt, like I need to be the "sage on the stage" for every single minute that they are in class--that they've paid a certain amount, and I better make sure they get their money's worth. In our entertainment culture, I often equate "money's worth" to "good performance."</div><div><br /></div><div>But a time of writing with others also writing is something we don't get to experience very often. A time of writing with a writing teacher nearby probably feels special.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let me return to these thoughts later. It occurs to me that I might need an additional handout today.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-67364887549710930482024-02-19T07:10:00.006-05:002024-02-19T07:10:59.218-05:00Week-end Update: Ups and Downs and UpsIt has been one of those week-ends that was a mix of happiness and depression. The depression came from having a drywall person come and be less than enthusiastic about our project. In some ways, we should have bounced back; we will want a person/team/company to do the taping, mudding, and sanding/finishing work. We have a team scheduled to come in and hang the drywall, which at once point seemed impossible to find. We will find someone to do the rest of it, or we'll do it ourselves.<div><br /></div><div>But Saturday afternoon, we both felt dejected at the same time, which is a difficult and sometimes dangerous time for us as a couple. If only one of us is dejected, the other can be rational and reassuring. We didn't have that Saturday. So we watched <i>Pure Deviltry</i>, a strange movie with subtitles, about two demons who have to go to the regular world to find two people who most deserved to go to Hell. It turned out to be oddly charming. We started it Saturday night and finished it last night.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was a good day at Faith Lutheran, in Bristol, Tennessee. I finished I getting the children ready for First Communion (for more on that, see<a href="https://liberationtheologylutheran.blogspot.com/2024/02/creating-first-communion-curriculum.html"> this blog post</a>). After worship, my spouse and I went over to the house of the church council president for a lovely lunch. When we got home, I went over to the house of a Lutheridge friend who is selling her house and selling stuff. We don't need much stuff, but she does have a cool glass birdbath that will be ours.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's strange to think that I always thought of this neighborhood where we live as a place where most people wouldn't leave, but that hasn't been the case. I understand, but it does make me sad at points, even when people aren't going far.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmM_3V7TJB4tW0riOKyaxrWMF7IbtEUpAw292RUc9zzUCx4k_UoaHmTLxu9DT9OMC-dLYCvyfwGCl3hIVY_Pi-aLEqJo7GyW5qIvND3RbFCStp85DFSFHSl8N_c0aAYANualDssSs9b9y3pSCutSsmHJBZ7JWE2YWX5ii3TKPAAalfdCHqiQh1fMwxikc/s2048/428638060_10231277314093682_8529323505136661678_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmM_3V7TJB4tW0riOKyaxrWMF7IbtEUpAw292RUc9zzUCx4k_UoaHmTLxu9DT9OMC-dLYCvyfwGCl3hIVY_Pi-aLEqJo7GyW5qIvND3RbFCStp85DFSFHSl8N_c0aAYANualDssSs9b9y3pSCutSsmHJBZ7JWE2YWX5ii3TKPAAalfdCHqiQh1fMwxikc/s320/428638060_10231277314093682_8529323505136661678_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The sunset last night was absolutely gorgeous. I captured some shots that might find their way into a sketchbook.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwv_n6fG78vwS2bR3Bz88A9FUiNdsl2i8yT2u8pYcEdLOeFhhVwLabCRhVuEJnNFD3oWRkIrdQMS77nhuQpnF56IBz4zlXw8raaIpCQibpM96mL2o_9TznV4Fj7eJ59iXIOYOMQueiQPV5prlSdWSDsd05ojWfiPWjxpSBwQ_be41yMet1rSbVd8lm9ox/s2048/428649759_10231277338854301_1990592797284542020_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwv_n6fG78vwS2bR3Bz88A9FUiNdsl2i8yT2u8pYcEdLOeFhhVwLabCRhVuEJnNFD3oWRkIrdQMS77nhuQpnF56IBz4zlXw8raaIpCQibpM96mL2o_9TznV4Fj7eJ59iXIOYOMQueiQPV5prlSdWSDsd05ojWfiPWjxpSBwQ_be41yMet1rSbVd8lm9ox/s320/428649759_10231277338854301_1990592797284542020_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I made this Facebook post this morning: "It seems a first worth mentioning here: I'm washing a white robe to get the Ash Wednesday ashes out. The care instructions say to treat the robe like a delicate creature, even though it's probably been on the earth longer than I have. It seems like one of those rugged poly-cotton blends designed to outlast humanity, but I'll treat it as if it was made of hand-tatted lace. We should all get that kind of treatment occasionally."</div><div><br /></div><div>A few other points from the week-end worth mentioning:</div><div><br /></div><div>--I need to apply to United Lutheran Seminary to be affiliated with them (as a Methodist who wants to be ordained in the ELCA, I need to be affiliated with a Lutheran seminary, and ULS does a better job with distance students and midlife students than most Lutheran seminaries). I need 3 people to be recommenders; one must be my home pastor and one must be a professor, so I have fewer people to choose from in those two slots. Happily, I now have a yes from each category.</div><div><br /></div><div>--Why is it hard for me to ask for this favor? In part, because I've already asked for what feels like a big favor, and now I have to ask again. In part because this application process is cumbersome. Let me get this wrapped up this week so I don't have to think about it in this way again.</div><div><br /></div><div>--We had a great Bible study by way of Zoom on Saturday. It's so cool to be able to stay connected with the women from my Florida church this way. About half of us have moved somewhere else, but we still want to stay in touch.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-84416327063794076502024-02-17T08:44:00.001-05:002024-02-17T08:44:07.421-05:00When a Day Zooms ByAt 7:45, I started getting ready for my 9 a.m. Zoom call with my quilt group friends, the Zoom call before the Bible study on parables that I lead for my Florida church once a month at 10 a.m. Did I need 75 minutes before the first Zoom call? No, I did not. I was an hour off.<div><br /></div><div>Happily, I realized that I was off, and no harm done. But it's unsettling, nonetheless, especially in this current news climate where we're always yammering on about the mental fitness of the two elderly men who are likely to face each other in the U.S. presidential election. More than ever, I find myself thinking, does this slip of my memory signal decline? Of course, I'd likely wonder that anyway, with a history of elders with memory issues on both sides of my parents' family tree.</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of those elders, last night I dreamed about my grandmother on my mother's side. She was living in her house, which unlike some of my dreams, was not changed from when she lived there. We were sorting fabric together. It was a lovely dream.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was one of those days where I felt like I got a lot done, but because it wasn't a lot of school work, it felt like I got nothing done. I went to the library and to the Fresh Market, where I got a lot of Valentine's treats and a mix of 3 hot cocoa tins for 75% off. Hurrah! </div><div><br /></div><div>I connected with the person in charge of CPE in Spartanburg. After talking to the person in charge of CPE at the Asheville VA Hospital, I thought it would be wise to check out nearby possibilities because the VA Hospital has limited summer possibilities (none this summer, next summer perhaps but hard to say). The Spartanburg option has lots of flexibility, and unlike Asheville, they don't do as much in the summer as they do in the fall and spring for people who only need one unit of CPE.</div><div><br /></div><div>I helped my spouse with some renovation chores to get the house ready for the drywall team that will be here March 4. Soon it felt like the whole day had zoomed by, and it had.</div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of zooming, soon it will be time for my Zoom calls, so let me get some breakfast! </div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5785052391761134022.post-37197755787995503552024-02-16T08:07:00.002-05:002024-02-16T08:07:29.383-05:00Friday Threads, Ash Wednesday Weavings and Star ShapesIt's been an unusual week, with a midweek worship service which meant that I moved the English classes that I teach online yesterday. I've felt the week feeling like I'm not really sure what day it is. Let me collect a few threads here, parts of a weaving that I don't want to lose.<div><br /></div><div>--I went for a walk right after I got back from my drive to Spartanburg on Tuesday. As I was walking down a steep hill (for those familiar with Lutheridge, it was just after passing Efird, heading down the hill to the main entrance), I heard a rustle and looked over. At first I thought I was seeing a bird swooping low, but as the creature ran away, I realized it was a deer, and the white tail was what I thought was a bird. Wildlife sightings that aren't birds still feel magical to me.<br /><div><br /></div><div>--On Tuesday evening, we went to a Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at the Lutheran church that is right around the corner from us, a church where we have lots of connections, but I wasn't sure that we'd see anyone we know. Still, we wanted to support the youth who are raising money to go to the nationwide youth event.</div><div><br /></div><div>--It was a great event, pancakes with all sorts of toppings (berries, chocolate chips, whipped cream, syrup, real butter), pancakes that we ate on real plates. As one youth said, "The church has these dishes, so we might as well use them." The church also has an industrial dishwasher, which makes that decision easier. We sat a table and caught up with people we don't see as often as we would like.</div><div><br /></div><div>--The pancake supper started at 5:30, which meant we were done and back on our way by 6:45. I need more events like this one. Our local church also does a Pub Theology night, which I have enjoyed when we've gone, but it doesn't start until 7:00. Why is it hard for me to want to go to an event on a school night that starts at 7:00?</div><div><br /></div><div>--It was great to have conversations with the youth group member who was our table's waiter. And one of the youth members had a friend who was part of a jazz band that sounded much, much older (in a good, smoky-voiced kind of way) than their years. These kind of events give me hope for the future.</div><div><br /></div><div>--I had a great day on Wednesday baking bread. I am still experimenting as I try to bake a bread that's tasty and easy for me to tear into bite sized pieces for communion. One loaf got quite a rise. This picture encapsulates much about my current life, from bread cooling to the two coffee makers on the counter to the poinsettias, still red and healthy:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiH7pVi1AYn5taL7DI1zYivkdOLWrTpL4bgKojZCp26t5sDPsbZeFOeAYbkxy4VS7JDMOcpv6VRLCn3GelR5vopL4f6ccTQkSEDJve8aWJnkRz-v_KB5Cf8Yc_3gkyVzih5xeSQhu9GZJu-SDCuej8AX3i0qKF2eZ4wUQca-YPBfOHxaQkaEXwQlcx0jD/s3056/20240214_100216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3056" data-original-width="3056" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeiH7pVi1AYn5taL7DI1zYivkdOLWrTpL4bgKojZCp26t5sDPsbZeFOeAYbkxy4VS7JDMOcpv6VRLCn3GelR5vopL4f6ccTQkSEDJve8aWJnkRz-v_KB5Cf8Yc_3gkyVzih5xeSQhu9GZJu-SDCuej8AX3i0qKF2eZ4wUQca-YPBfOHxaQkaEXwQlcx0jD/s320/20240214_100216.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>--We had a lovely drive to Bristol, TN on Wednesday afternoon, and on Feb. 14, that felt lucky indeed: no snow/rain, and the setting sun was never in our eyes. We heard a radio ad for term life insurance, which we both had as termite insurance. The ad promised in a very gender specific way that an older man could get term life insurance (or, as we heard it, termite insurance) even if that man had diabetes or heart problems. Hilarity ensued as we tried to interpret what we thought we had heard.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>--I got this comment on one of my worship contextuality assignments: "Thank you for your thoughtful reflection, Kristin. You have a keen and analytic eye." My first thought was, me?--a keen and analytic eye? I went back to the assignment, and yes, I do see why my professor said that. What's more interesting to me is why my first impulse is to deny that I have a keen and analytic eye when it comes to my academic writing. Hmm. </div><div><br /></div><div>--I know why, of course. When I did my English Literature graduate work, I went straight out of undergraduate school, and I went from being a star student to being part of a group of stars, many of whom I perceived as shining more brightly than I could. Looking back, I realize that was likely untrue. Most of them just knew how to talk a good game. The men were convinced of their brilliance, but I never saw their writing or our professor's feedback to their writing, so I have no way to judge. However, decades of experience have shown me that those who blather on about their brilliance are not as brilliant as they think they are.</div><div><br /></div><div>--Speaking of brilliant stars, I'll remember driving back across the mountains Wednesday night and seeing a star decoration shining through the night, a star made of Christmas lights strung in a star shape on a big board. I had seen it as we drove across and wondered if the house still lit it up at night. Wednesday night, the star shone brightly.</div>Kristin Berkey-Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16841824206762029363noreply@blogger.com0