Arcs of History

I woke this morning with my heart already heavy with the news of more police shootings this week.  And then I turned on the computer and learned of shootings in Dallas.

I wrote more about the shootings in this post on my theology blog. 

As a Sociology undergrad who spent significant class time analyzing the 60's and the aftermath, I always wondered why the middle and upper classes were so slow to catch on, so blind to why so many were so angry.  I worry that I bear more resemblance to that population than I knew could be possible.

And yet everyone I know is both angry and grieving over these killings.  I take comfort from that, while also knowing that anger and grief without action leads to more volatility--scarily, perhaps like what we're seeing in Dallas.

I will continue to hope that cooler heads prevail, and that leaders emerge to show us a way to a saner civilization without getting bogged down in the old, familiar arguments about racism and guns and history.

I am ready for a new vision.  I despair of my ability to dream it.  I cling to the hope that comes from history, those times when societies are so hollowed out that new life can bloom.

And in the meantime, there is good work to be done.  Classes start on Monday--I'll go to work to try to make sure that all goes smoothly.

I'll carry with me the memory of yesterday:  my faculty development sessions went very well.  I was reminded by how much I really like these faculty members, how lucky I am to work with such a great group.  We were inspired by each other; I was simply the facilitator who got the conversation moving.

I will continue to remember the words of great thinkers who have shaped me:  I do believe that history arcs towards justice, I do believe that humans are good at heart, I do believe that we are headed towards a better tomorrow that will be an improvement in ways we can't quite visualize yet.

I will keep my eyes open, on the alert for signs of that arcing.  I will look for ways to serve the forces of the light in our effort to push back against darkness.

Taking Notes: By hand, by laptop, by image

Today is going to be a crazy, hectic day, the kind of day where I leave the house at 7:30 a.m. and don't return for 12 hours--and not much down time along the way. 

Along with the two new student orientations, I'll be leading a professional development session--2 of the same one.  We're going to experiment with note taking.

I was inspired by this story when I created what I hope will be an interesting, experiential session.  We will divide ourselves into 3 groups, and I will lead a brief discussion of Andrew Marvell's "To His Coy Mistress."  Each group will take notes a different way:  by hand, by laptop or phone, and by sketching.  We'll have a brief quiz to see what kind of recall people have.

The NPR story predicts that the group that takes notes by hand will do the best:  "Because people can type faster than they write, using a laptop will make people more likely to try to transcribe everything they're hearing. So on the one hand, Mueller and Oppenheimer were faced with the question of whether the benefits of being able to look at your more complete, transcribed notes on a laptop outweigh the drawbacks of not processing that information. On the other hand, when writing longhand, you process the information better but have less to look back at."

I added sketching as a means of notetaking, because I've been experimenting with sketching, and because we're an art school of sorts, with a variety of artistic faculty. 

I hope people will like the experience; I'm certainly not going to make any sweeping claims in terms of our results.  The sample will be much too small.  But I hope it leads to an interesting discussion of classroom techniques.

 

Linking the Short Stories by Work Place

While I didn't spend much time writing over my four day week-end, I did spend time thinking about my latest possible short story collection which revolves around student activists as they turn 50.  I'm thinking about activists who would have been active in the 80's, not the 60's.  I had thought that the common link might be that they all went to the same undergraduate school.

But this week-end, I thought, what if they all end up working at the same school in their 50's?  That might make some sense--and explain how so many of them end up in academia.  Or maybe I should try to give them different careers. 

So far, I have 3 stories, and the protagonist of 2 of the stories is an administrator of some sort of academic department--am I writing the same character?  The 2 characters don't have the same past.  And one of them is more of a dean than a department chair, but a dean who is hearing student complaints--should I take some of that out?  Hmmm.  The protagonist of the 3rd is a cook.

I want the setting not to be a bucolic, liberal arts kind of college.  I thought about having the characters end up at a for-profit school--but I want one character to be a campus pastor--are there any for-profit schools that have a campus pastor?  Or maybe the pastor character will be a teacher or some sort of expert called in to help with some project?

I thought that I'd write all the stories and then figure out how to link them, but I wouldn't look forward to that sort of revision.   But so far, having them end up at the same school could work.

Now, of course, the real task still lies ahead:  the writing of the stories.  This used to feel easier.  I need to get back to that space.

Lessons from a Long, Holiday Week-end

I took Friday off, and thus, I have enjoyed a 4 day week-end. What a treat!  Here are some of the things I learned/realized:

--There are times when it's good to pretend you're at a resort and just take time off.  I did very little in the way of chores, writing, all the things I thought I "should" do with the gift of time.  Instead, I relaxed, I read a book, I took a nap every day . . . and as a result, I feel refreshed.

--If you need a good book for a summer read, I recommend Emma Straub's latest, Modern Lovers.  It's set during one summer in Brooklyn.  It's about artists and growing older and real estate and cooking.  It's not intense reading, but it's not so light and fluffy as to be boring. I spent the week-end looking forward to getting back to it, wondering what would happen, enjoying the read.

--I did a few chores:  some laundry, some vacuuming, some food provisioning for this coming week of heavy meetings.  But I didn't do the heavy stuff, like cutting shrubs.  And I'm fine with that.

--I thought I might try to ride my motorcycle more.  But it looked like it might storm all week-end.  Plus, that task too felt like a chore, and as the week-end went on, it was clear to me that I was abandoning most chores.

--It is good to spend time in the pool.  When I'm in the pool, I'm not eating mindlessly.

--One should not buy Trader Joe's toffee covered with dark chocolate and pistachio chunks.  One will eat the whole box, even though one thinks one can be disciplined.

--Last night, we sat on the front porch and played patriotic/American music on our mandolins and violin.  I am amazed at how much I have retained since May.  I know now which spot on the mandolin corresponds with which note.   I picked up "This Land Is Your Land" fairly quickly last night, and I could play it without looking at the instrument too often. 

--I have done this by picking the mandolin up during brief moments throughout the week during the past 2 months, not by sustained practice sessions.

--Could I get comfortable on the motorcycle the same way?

--As we sat on the porch, people hiked by on their way to watch the fireworks at the beach.  It felt like old-timey, small town America--except that those people didn't live in the neighborhood--they had just parked there.

--I prefer the Independence Day festivities to start a week-end, not to come at the end of it--lots of fireworks noise last night.

--In an effort to carry this resort like feeling into my week of many meetings, let me go take a quick dip in the pool.

Independence, Today and Every Day

I've spent some time this week-end thinking about all the different ways I've celebrated Independence Day in the past.

I have often been visiting family in the D.C. area--that's one of my favorite ways to celebrate.  Once, long ago, in 1985, my dad and I went down to the Mall and stayed for the fireworks.  My mom and sister were at a Lutheran youth gathering, and my dad and I went by way of Metro.  The Beach Boys played a concert, and the fireworks were grand.  But boy, were we hot, dirty, and tired by the time we got back home to the Virginia suburbs.

In later years, we've been on a sailboat--that's a wonderful way to celebrate too, out on the Chesapeake with various municipal fireworks displays on view.

We've spent Independence Days with friends, some of them resident aliens from other countries--that, too, provides an interesting point of view.  We've also spent some Independence Days alone, just the two of us as a couple.  I remember one year in a different house climbing up a ladder onto our roof so that we could see the fireworks 3 miles away at the beach. 

No matter where I am, I try to think about the Declaration of Independence--what an amazing document.  I try to think about what those men tried to accomplish--how far we have come, how close we are to those goals, how we've surpassed them, the progress we still have to make.  I think about people in our country who still suffer all sorts of oppression.  In the early part of this century, a commentator said that it's never been easier to own a slave, and he was talking about our country too.

I also think about people across the globe who struggle to achieve the kinds of freedoms that so many of us in industrialized nations take for granted.  It's a cliché, to be sure, but it's important to remember.

History reminds us that those liberties can fairly easily be taken away, and most of us will never blink an eye--at least until it's too late.  We live in precarious times--perhaps we always live in precarious times, but I'm more aware of it this year, with terrorist actions and the Brexit vote.

But let me not get bogged down in fears.  Instead, let me be inspired by those men who signed the Declaration of Independence on this day in 1776.  They pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor, so great was their belief in what they were doing.  It's a good day to think about our commitments, our values, what we hold most true.

Of course, it's always a good day to do that--let me always be trying to live a life that's in sync with my truest values.  Let me always be ready to stake my sacred honor on principles that are that important.

Bearing Witness

I saw Elie Wiesel when I was in grad school--it would have been in the late 80's or early 90's.  I paid nothing to go see him.  Our campus pastor knew that he was coming to Columbia, South Carolina, and he could take a group--he asked me if I wanted to go, and I said sure.

I knew who Wiesel was, but I had only read Night; I've still only read Night.  I can't remember anything about what Wiesel said the night that I went to see him at a church or a synagogue in Columbia, but I remember being inspired.  If I had to guess, I'd guess that he talked about systems of repression present in the world at that time, probably South Africa or Central America.

I'm interested in Wiesel's ideas about our responsibilities to bear witness.  When I read the discussions of many artists today, we cover lots of topics, but rarely do I hear us explore the need to bear witness.

NPR quotes him as saying about the Holocaust:   "To forget the victims means to kill them a second time. So I couldn't prevent the first death. I surely must be capable of saving them from a second death."

Sadly his views on injustice seem more relevant than ever:  "Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.  Sometimes we must interfere. When human lives are endangered, when human dignity is in jeopardy, national borders and sensitivities become irrelevant."

I let go of my copy of Night long ago because I figured I'd always be able to find a copy when I needed it.  A shame--I'd like to spend the afternoon rereading it.

So, maybe I'll read a different work of witness--Angels in America is still calling me.

The Perfect Day Off

I took Friday off--the lure of a 4 day week-end was too appealing.  I worried that it might feel like a waste of a day off, especially if our solar energy guy showed up to do work on the house.  But he had gotten delayed by other events of the week, and wouldn't be coming until next week.

I had a great day off.  It was filled with the activities that make me happy:  reading in the sunshine, cooking, taking a nap, reading in the evening.  I went to a great spin class in the morning, and in the evening, my spouse and I took a walk to the marina, where we sat on our favorite bench and watched the surprisingly quiet Intracoastal.  Throughout the day, I went back into the pool again and again.

We got a few chores done:  getting propane for the grill, writing to Home Depot about defective outdoor chairs bought last year.  I checked in on my online classes.

But overall, I took the day off--I spent very little time on anything other than relaxing and recovering from the past several weeks.  It was restorative.

I plan to do much the same throughout the week-end, although I'd like to get some writing done, along with a few chores.  The house is in desperate need of vacuuming/sweeping, and some of the bushes need a severe trimming.  I need to pay some bills and get solar power paperwork in the mail to our electric utility company.

Although I have Monday off, next week's schedule is hectic.  But I'll try not to let the thought of work intrude on my long week-end.  I will enjoy some perfect summer moments.