Last night I had one of those incidents. Sometimes I just get flustered. The wife and I had a nice afternoon date, shopping... we've gotten a bit jaded on the let's go to a fancy restaurant and gaze at each other every week thing. So, we've taken to varying it a bit. And since we both need new clothes, shopping works.
#1 was getting anxious for our return, so he called us on the cell to ask when we'd be getting home. So, we came. Dinner. I decided to make an easy meal that he would particularly like: "tender strips" (aka fried chicken strips) with pasta and creamed corn. #1 was "helping" to dip the chicken in flour, then eggs, then bread crumbs. Of course, a nearly four-year-old helping make dinner slows it down quite a bit. Halfway through I tossed my wife one of those glances that meant help, or we won't eat until 9:00! So, she took him aside to help her make some brownies from a mix, all the while trying to entertain or hold #2 as well. I rushed as I could to finish up the chicken.
Then, the corn... easy enough, pour some frozen kernels into a pan with a half inch of water, boil, drain, add some butter, some milk, mix some of the liquid from boiling with some corn starch, then thicken the "cream". I poured it into a bowl for serving. Then, as I picked it up to carry to the table.... oh...ooops, oh... oh, uhng.... aaaarrrggh!
The whole thing fell to the floor and spread corn everywhere. I ran out the side door, and sat for a minute, thinking about my breathing. [in.... out.... in.... out....]. Then I returned, to clean up, then make the corn again.
You know, in the grand scheme of things, a bowl of corn is just a bowl of corn.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Saturday, February 11, 2006
A poem (for Trillwing)
Snow Fall (12/4/91)
Outside, the snow fell while I was unaware.
Inside my mind there was no place for snow.
Is it not so, that for each one there are many worlds?
Can we inhabit more than one at a time?
I felt confused, almost hurt,
that the snow would fall without me.
And yet: am I responsible for the snow,
or must it answer to me?
Should I not delight in the independence of snow?
Is that not its right?
Should I not cherish the world that surprises,
and covers its tracks in the snow?...
Outside, the snow fell while I was unaware.
Inside my mind there was no place for snow.
Is it not so, that for each one there are many worlds?
Can we inhabit more than one at a time?
I felt confused, almost hurt,
that the snow would fall without me.
And yet: am I responsible for the snow,
or must it answer to me?
Should I not delight in the independence of snow?
Is that not its right?
Should I not cherish the world that surprises,
and covers its tracks in the snow?...
Friday, February 10, 2006
This is not me!
"White (not of Hispanic origin) - A person having origins in any of the original people of Europe, Northern Africa, or the Middle East."
Do any of these categories meaningfully describe you? Does society benefit, in the long run (beginning today, not yesterday, not 1964) from the continuation of these classifications?
I do not check that box when I submit my EEO forms. It tells no one anything meaningful about me, certainly less than the picture would. In fact, I'm considering simply printing a copy of that picture of my arm, to attach to these forms. Of course, that would be a useless protest. The information is voluntary. Besides, the requirement for gathering information on these ethnic categories is defined not by the universities to which I apply for employment, but by the government.
It's not just America though. The categories are different, but essentially as meaningless in the UK, where I've also applied for work. I suppose I'd be expected there to tick the box beside "Any other White background."
Now, don't get me wrong. Please, don't get me wrong. I do not pretend to believe there is no discrimination of peoples by ethnicity, by gender, by appearance, by spoken accent. No, clearly these things, sadly, do continue. One of my proudest moments, still to this day, was hearing from an opposing candidate in the student government elections, "you are the first white man I have ever met who is not a racist." This was at CCNY in Harlem, New York in 1984. I was 16, and running for Vice President for Campus Affairs. I came in second. I will never forget our talk, because even today it brings tears to my eyes to think that his words may have been true.
But I am offended, even worried that the means we choose to redress these faults in society have the opposite effect.
Look at my picture. Read the category to which I am supposed to apply. There is so much that these don't tell you about me.
I'd like to believe that the color of my skin, or my ethnic heritage, have no impact on whether or not I am offered a job. I hope that I will be judged merely on the basis of my research and my teaching, and other relevant qualifications. I am pleased to report that when I sat on the hiring committee as a grad student rep for a major administrative post at my university, there was not even the slightest hint that anything except the qualifications and abilities of the candidates should be considered. And I am confident that the committee lived true to that expectation.
I recall a couple years ago, hosting a colleague (who happened to have just been hired as a junior faculty member at my home institution). I was overseas on a Fulbright grant, and he was visiting the city of my research for about a week. I gladly invited his visit. Superficially, we look very much alike.
We are both short, slightly built men, Eastern European Jewish extraction. We're both in the same field, both our dissertations centered on the same person. We discussed among other things affirmative action policies. He spoke of his undergraduate days at Harvard, recounting how his cohorts were mostly spoiled, unmotivated, undeserving rich kids. He passionately spoke of the need for righting the injustice to people of color. But there was something in his tone, in the way he spoke, that struck me like the voice of a well-intentioned lord doling out favors to his serfs.
His world is not mine. I did not attend Harvard. I never would have considered applying. I wasn't raised by well-off academics in Boston as he was. I grew up in Baltimore and New York. My paternal grandfather was a paperhanger. My paternal grandmother was crippled from childhood polio, and never worked outside the house. My maternal grandfather was a salesman, and a gambler. My maternal grandmother worked occasionally in clerical jobs, and refused to allow my mother to learn how to type (which to this day she hasn't).
My mother recalls a neighborhood pool where she grew up, openly displaying a sign:
No Jews or Negroes Allowed!
Unlike my friend, I have not lived a priveleged life. I have suffered less than others, sure, but never priveleged. Mine was a family that arrived in America from Eastern Europe around the turn of the 20th century. Good thing, too, or they may not have survived the Holocaust, and I might never have been born.
All my grandparents were born here. My parents met at the University of Maryland. My father graduated with a BA in English & Zoology. He was a writer. But he never got published. My mother was an artist cum teacher, who wound up years later getting a Master's degree, and serving as a school principal.
They were divorced by the time I was four. We were poor, but never hungry. I never went homeless, or shoeless, or went a day without a meal. I always considered us "lower middle class" as I had learned. I'm not the first in my family to attend college. But I am the only one of my siblings to have graduated.
I don't know where to go with this narrative. There is so much more about me, about my personal and family history. None of it is revealed by ticking "White (non-Hispanic)". None of it. I do not self-identify as that category of being.
I wonder if it were not more useful, rather than presenting a limited number of pre-formed (and thus pre-judged) categories, to ask an open ended question on EEO forms and college admissions applications: What five things about you most contribute to your self-identity? Surely for some, that may include their gender, or skin color, for others their first language, or hometown, their height, or weight, their first love, or favorite recipe, the book that changed their lives, or a loss they endured as a child, or... Wouldn't that be more revealing? I'll work on it myself, and get back to you.
What other people think
Just killing some time until the wife calls for me to pick her up. I wanted to blog a bit about a recent realization I've had. In part my present relaxation is due to an acceptance that what other people think is not really all that important to me. Let me explain.
I'm talking about my wife's family, my brothers, the au pair, my wife's coworkers... just about anyone who's not in academia. I'm really tired of explaining my unemployment status, trying to convince them what I am (in better moments) convinced of myself: that the right job will come along, or perhaps it won't, but either way it doesn't really reflect on the relevance or worthiness of the work I do... but rather, in some skewed way, it reflects the often inexplicable alignment of ideas that leads a committee to say Eureka, he's the one!
I was just reading My Department is Dreaming of a Wedding on In Favor of Thinking and Discipline Boundaries on What Now? It's nice to see things from the other side of the table now and again. God, what I wouldn't give to be adored by a department, or frankly even liked enough to be hired.
But, those things are beyond my control. Sure, I can put on a good face, and expend the necessary energy to write a bang-up cover letter, and what have you, and endeavor to just wow them, should I be invited to campus. But those things alone will not guarantee a job offer.
In his later years, my father took to saying that what's in our power is to decide whether or not we are going be good; history alone will decide if we are considered great. It means a lot to me. I've been ambitious all my life. Not ambitious as in I wanted to be CEO, or a famous movie star. I confess to having daydreamed about being POTUS or to thinking myself as good an actor as someone famous. Sure, I've fantasized about such acclaim and power.
Mostly, however, I've aspired to greatness, to making major contributions to something. Over the years, I've narrowed down my field. I've refined the areas of my principal interest, ostensibly the domain in which I might make that giant leap. But, giant leaps are not so much in the distance we cover, or in the amount of effort we put in. No, we can decide to be good at what we do. It's luck, and timing, and circumstance, and the ability of society to recognize and realize the value in what we do... it's a whole slew of things, that conspire for or against our accomplishment's value in history. That is to say, great things are not always better than good things. Maybe I've just passed through the stages in life that ProfessorMe described as stages in a student's attitudes toward the dissertation.
I haven't given up my aspirations, my ambition. I've only mollified it a bit. As an actor, I often wondered at the strange and glorious mutations that some directors go in for. I've wondered at the fascination artists and composers often have with what's novel. And I've come to the conclusion that 1) sometimes it's enough to just do something good, even if it's been done before; and 2) before spending too much energy finding your own voice, be sure you've got something to say.
I'm talking about my wife's family, my brothers, the au pair, my wife's coworkers... just about anyone who's not in academia. I'm really tired of explaining my unemployment status, trying to convince them what I am (in better moments) convinced of myself: that the right job will come along, or perhaps it won't, but either way it doesn't really reflect on the relevance or worthiness of the work I do... but rather, in some skewed way, it reflects the often inexplicable alignment of ideas that leads a committee to say Eureka, he's the one!
I was just reading My Department is Dreaming of a Wedding on In Favor of Thinking and Discipline Boundaries on What Now? It's nice to see things from the other side of the table now and again. God, what I wouldn't give to be adored by a department, or frankly even liked enough to be hired.
But, those things are beyond my control. Sure, I can put on a good face, and expend the necessary energy to write a bang-up cover letter, and what have you, and endeavor to just wow them, should I be invited to campus. But those things alone will not guarantee a job offer.
In his later years, my father took to saying that what's in our power is to decide whether or not we are going be good; history alone will decide if we are considered great. It means a lot to me. I've been ambitious all my life. Not ambitious as in I wanted to be CEO, or a famous movie star. I confess to having daydreamed about being POTUS or to thinking myself as good an actor as someone famous. Sure, I've fantasized about such acclaim and power.
Mostly, however, I've aspired to greatness, to making major contributions to something. Over the years, I've narrowed down my field. I've refined the areas of my principal interest, ostensibly the domain in which I might make that giant leap. But, giant leaps are not so much in the distance we cover, or in the amount of effort we put in. No, we can decide to be good at what we do. It's luck, and timing, and circumstance, and the ability of society to recognize and realize the value in what we do... it's a whole slew of things, that conspire for or against our accomplishment's value in history. That is to say, great things are not always better than good things. Maybe I've just passed through the stages in life that ProfessorMe described as stages in a student's attitudes toward the dissertation.
I haven't given up my aspirations, my ambition. I've only mollified it a bit. As an actor, I often wondered at the strange and glorious mutations that some directors go in for. I've wondered at the fascination artists and composers often have with what's novel. And I've come to the conclusion that 1) sometimes it's enough to just do something good, even if it's been done before; and 2) before spending too much energy finding your own voice, be sure you've got something to say.
Working at home
More writing today. Gymnastics morning for #1, so I watch both boys in the a.m. The wife decided this would not be another 50 hour week. So, she came with to watch the gymnastics class. That was nice. And I'll be picking her up early too. Yeah!
Brought the boys home around 11:00, then went to work at my laptop. I'm still writing this "dissertation distillation" article, though it may wind up becoming two or three articles. For now, I'm writing, and revising, but not editing, all the while reading new materials, translating as needed, and digging up old references. What remains is well-written, but not necessarily all pieced together. I can pull out sections later, if they go off too far on a tangent, and make them into the seeds of another article. It's good to be writing again, though at times it feels like a mulligan for all that's missing in the dissertation.
I've decided that I really prefer (most days) to work at home. I don't have a proper office on campus, so I have no privacy (read "quiet") there. Since I do most of my work on campus in a shared computer lab in my department, that means I am subject to the whims of conversations within the lab. I confess, I'm sometimes the culprit. But it's difficult to work when others are talking about god-knows-what, which is in no way related to the thesis of the article I'm writing, or the topic of the book or article I'm trying to read, or what have you.
Sure, at home, the boys interrupt me quite a bit, but I'd venture it's no more than the interruptions that occur in the computer lab, at least while the au pair is around to rescue me when I need it. And at least half the time, I enjoy their interruptions more than overhearing the dating rituals or professor woes of the new grad students.
Besides, all of my books and file cabinets full of articles are here. If I wish to find something that I know is there, but haven't taken notes on, it's nice to have them handy. I have such a backlog of reading that I'm rather infrequently visiting the library these days, especially in light of the fact that my "visiting faculty" library priveleges are pathetic in comparison to my former "PhD candidate" borrowing priveleges.
So, here I sit (still in the living room, because the garage clean up is going to take another few days of diligence). That's all for now.
Brought the boys home around 11:00, then went to work at my laptop. I'm still writing this "dissertation distillation" article, though it may wind up becoming two or three articles. For now, I'm writing, and revising, but not editing, all the while reading new materials, translating as needed, and digging up old references. What remains is well-written, but not necessarily all pieced together. I can pull out sections later, if they go off too far on a tangent, and make them into the seeds of another article. It's good to be writing again, though at times it feels like a mulligan for all that's missing in the dissertation.
I've decided that I really prefer (most days) to work at home. I don't have a proper office on campus, so I have no privacy (read "quiet") there. Since I do most of my work on campus in a shared computer lab in my department, that means I am subject to the whims of conversations within the lab. I confess, I'm sometimes the culprit. But it's difficult to work when others are talking about god-knows-what, which is in no way related to the thesis of the article I'm writing, or the topic of the book or article I'm trying to read, or what have you.
Sure, at home, the boys interrupt me quite a bit, but I'd venture it's no more than the interruptions that occur in the computer lab, at least while the au pair is around to rescue me when I need it. And at least half the time, I enjoy their interruptions more than overhearing the dating rituals or professor woes of the new grad students.
Besides, all of my books and file cabinets full of articles are here. If I wish to find something that I know is there, but haven't taken notes on, it's nice to have them handy. I have such a backlog of reading that I'm rather infrequently visiting the library these days, especially in light of the fact that my "visiting faculty" library priveleges are pathetic in comparison to my former "PhD candidate" borrowing priveleges.
So, here I sit (still in the living room, because the garage clean up is going to take another few days of diligence). That's all for now.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
A mid-afternoon breather
It's been a good day. Yesterday I came to the realization that while it's easy to envy others, that envy in itself is rather meaningless. Self-awareness is essential. It is alright to desire things that one doesn't have. But, in the words of Sheryl Crow:
It's not having what you want
It's wanting what you've got.
In honor of that song's title, I spent a little time today just soaking up the sun (pruning bushes, what else?). I've been taking it easy. And amazingly, I've actually been fairly productive. I'm just not going to worry about it. Hell, 38 ain't so old. What's more, it's just that I have no control over whether I get the job this season, or next, or what. I'm really doing everything I'm comfortable doing. I may make different choices in a few months, or in a year. But for now, I'm going to live a little more freely, a little less concerned.
I know there's magic in that attitude. Somehow, when it just doesn't matter to us, things begin to fall into place. It sometimes makes us more attractive when we're not looking for anything, or worrying about what will come.
Now back to that article. And I've got a couple more job apps to get out in the next week or so. It feels good to work without a hard deadline, without a worry, without a care.
It's not having what you want
It's wanting what you've got.
In honor of that song's title, I spent a little time today just soaking up the sun (pruning bushes, what else?). I've been taking it easy. And amazingly, I've actually been fairly productive. I'm just not going to worry about it. Hell, 38 ain't so old. What's more, it's just that I have no control over whether I get the job this season, or next, or what. I'm really doing everything I'm comfortable doing. I may make different choices in a few months, or in a year. But for now, I'm going to live a little more freely, a little less concerned.
I know there's magic in that attitude. Somehow, when it just doesn't matter to us, things begin to fall into place. It sometimes makes us more attractive when we're not looking for anything, or worrying about what will come.
Now back to that article. And I've got a couple more job apps to get out in the next week or so. It feels good to work without a hard deadline, without a worry, without a care.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Leftovers Risotto
When I was growing up, any leftovers stir-fried, with a dash of soy sauce, qualified as chinese food in my mother's parlance. This is a risotto in a similar vein. For all you vegetarians, sorry, this is a chicken recipe.
I can't say this a recipe proper, since the whole point was to creatively use up what needed to be eaten, so just about all the ingredients are dispensable or replaceable. But here's what I did tonight.
Put on one cup of rice in the rice cooker, with one cup of water, and one cup of chicken stock (leftover from the roast chicken I made last night).
Meanwhile, I cut up some green onions, half a poblano (otherwise known as pascilla) pepper, half an anaheim pepper, quarter large red bell pepper, half cup or so of sliced mushrooms. Tossed them in a pan with some chicken schmaltz (skimmed from the stock, leftover from last night), and sautéd for a few minutes.
Meanwhile, diced up half an eggplant, tossed with salt in a bowl, to dessicate (they're always rubbery if you don't dry them out a bit). Stirred the vegetables.
Meanwhile, picked as much chicken meat as I could off the bones of my leftovers, cutting up any large pieces, and tossed it all into pan with vegetables. Kept stirring. Once the rice was ready, I drained the eggplant, then squeezed into a couple paper towels to reduce liquid more. Tossed into pan with chicken and vegetables. (Bear in mind that this may produce a rather salty dish. Next time I'll try rinsing the eggplant before draining and squeezing. But then, my wife and I are quite sensitive to salt).
After a couple minutes, once the eggplant was a little browned, added the rice, and another 1/4-1/2 cup of the chicken stock (I always have a lot of stock!). Stirred over medium heat, left to simmer.
Scooped into bowls, sprinkled grated cheese on top, and garnished with cilantro. Dinner.
I can't say this a recipe proper, since the whole point was to creatively use up what needed to be eaten, so just about all the ingredients are dispensable or replaceable. But here's what I did tonight.
Put on one cup of rice in the rice cooker, with one cup of water, and one cup of chicken stock (leftover from the roast chicken I made last night).
Meanwhile, I cut up some green onions, half a poblano (otherwise known as pascilla) pepper, half an anaheim pepper, quarter large red bell pepper, half cup or so of sliced mushrooms. Tossed them in a pan with some chicken schmaltz (skimmed from the stock, leftover from last night), and sautéd for a few minutes.
Meanwhile, diced up half an eggplant, tossed with salt in a bowl, to dessicate (they're always rubbery if you don't dry them out a bit). Stirred the vegetables.
Meanwhile, picked as much chicken meat as I could off the bones of my leftovers, cutting up any large pieces, and tossed it all into pan with vegetables. Kept stirring. Once the rice was ready, I drained the eggplant, then squeezed into a couple paper towels to reduce liquid more. Tossed into pan with chicken and vegetables. (Bear in mind that this may produce a rather salty dish. Next time I'll try rinsing the eggplant before draining and squeezing. But then, my wife and I are quite sensitive to salt).
After a couple minutes, once the eggplant was a little browned, added the rice, and another 1/4-1/2 cup of the chicken stock (I always have a lot of stock!). Stirred over medium heat, left to simmer.
Scooped into bowls, sprinkled grated cheese on top, and garnished with cilantro. Dinner.
A little consolation
So, here I sit reading... on Will's Coffee House, the lament of a teacher grading papers; On ABDMom, the frustration of a "dissertatin' mama" ready to scream over a seemingly unproductive day, and I realize that though I haven't much to show for today (at least as far as my CV is concerned) to be honest, I don't feel too bad about it. And I think... you know, I'm THIS close. I could go either way. I've got no attachments (professionally that is).
I could... open a restaurant; get a real estate license; start up a landscaping business (again, that's how I paid my way through my undergrad years); or ... just about anything. It's not that I will, mind you, or that I have any imminent plans. See, the point for me is not what I WILL do, but what I COULD do. It's all about captaining my own ship. And, today, well, you know, I feel like I'm at the helm. So what, I got a couple rejection letters?
It was a beautiful day. I recorded some birds chirping, and edited the sound file to serve as my "Start Windows" sound. Then, I decided to make a clip of #2 giggling into my "Exit Windows" sound. (I would have posted them both here, but it doesn't seem that Blogger yet allows uploading of sound files. Too bad.)
I spent some time playing with both boys, took #1 to the dentist, cuddled and soothed him when his fever sapped his energy and patience. I read books to them, and played baloon keep-up, and "daddy gym" (essentially they both climb on me, and I lift them with my arms or legs, or whatever's handy, until we all fall onto the floor giggling).
I made a creative meal of leftovers. I hugged and kissed my wife when she got home. I started thinking about what I could plant in the garden this spring (even though we're just renting this house). I spent some time in the garage, cleaning up and clearing space. I'm hoping to make a real work space in there, so I can be more productive when I work out of the house, since when I'm in plain sight, the boys will always gravitate to me, rather than play with the au pair.
And here's the consolation: you know, I've got it pretty good. We're not going hungry. We've got a decent place to live. I've got a talented, intelligent, and beautiful wife, and two luscious kids. I've got my books, and my laptop. And, for now at least, I'm free. If I choose to take a day off, or a week, or a month, there's nothing stopping me.
This is no exercise in Schadenfreude. I'd like to think that's beneath me. I could thumb my nose at all my bloggic friends here, reciting my lack of commitments; or I could dwell on how ABDMom is exhausted because she just returned from campus visit #4 (when I've yet to receive a single telephone interview this year), or how ProfessorMe already has a job lined up for the fall, or resent my friend who is halfway through his year teaching in the post I almost got last year. In short, I could worry about a host of things. But, if I'm going to compare myself to others, I should be fair about it. We've all got our triumphs and our laments. I've been pretty good at lamenting lately. I think today, I'll rest on my laurels. Here isn't such a bad place after all.
I could... open a restaurant; get a real estate license; start up a landscaping business (again, that's how I paid my way through my undergrad years); or ... just about anything. It's not that I will, mind you, or that I have any imminent plans. See, the point for me is not what I WILL do, but what I COULD do. It's all about captaining my own ship. And, today, well, you know, I feel like I'm at the helm. So what, I got a couple rejection letters?
It was a beautiful day. I recorded some birds chirping, and edited the sound file to serve as my "Start Windows" sound. Then, I decided to make a clip of #2 giggling into my "Exit Windows" sound. (I would have posted them both here, but it doesn't seem that Blogger yet allows uploading of sound files. Too bad.)
I spent some time playing with both boys, took #1 to the dentist, cuddled and soothed him when his fever sapped his energy and patience. I read books to them, and played baloon keep-up, and "daddy gym" (essentially they both climb on me, and I lift them with my arms or legs, or whatever's handy, until we all fall onto the floor giggling).
I made a creative meal of leftovers. I hugged and kissed my wife when she got home. I started thinking about what I could plant in the garden this spring (even though we're just renting this house). I spent some time in the garage, cleaning up and clearing space. I'm hoping to make a real work space in there, so I can be more productive when I work out of the house, since when I'm in plain sight, the boys will always gravitate to me, rather than play with the au pair.
And here's the consolation: you know, I've got it pretty good. We're not going hungry. We've got a decent place to live. I've got a talented, intelligent, and beautiful wife, and two luscious kids. I've got my books, and my laptop. And, for now at least, I'm free. If I choose to take a day off, or a week, or a month, there's nothing stopping me.
This is no exercise in Schadenfreude. I'd like to think that's beneath me. I could thumb my nose at all my bloggic friends here, reciting my lack of commitments; or I could dwell on how ABDMom is exhausted because she just returned from campus visit #4 (when I've yet to receive a single telephone interview this year), or how ProfessorMe already has a job lined up for the fall, or resent my friend who is halfway through his year teaching in the post I almost got last year. In short, I could worry about a host of things. But, if I'm going to compare myself to others, I should be fair about it. We've all got our triumphs and our laments. I've been pretty good at lamenting lately. I think today, I'll rest on my laurels. Here isn't such a bad place after all.
That's my competition?
Wow... I just got an email from one of the schools I applied to. The person they hired was a Full Professor at the school he was leaving, got his PhD in 1991! That's my competition? No wonder I don't have a job yet.
At least I know why his current school posted a one-year announcement last week. Granted, the position at the highly regarded Boston-area private University was "open rank". But geez. I guess they were being picky though. This last application (closed October 11) was actually the third time I had applied there. Once a year before, for a position they didn't fill. Once over the summer for a one-year interim post to cover the position they didn't fill. And finally again. The difference was, I had my PhD in hand this last time. Ah well, one more down.
Now for some writing and translating. Honest. But I do have an excuse, #1 has a 102.5F temperature, which I checked after we got back from the dentist.
At least I know why his current school posted a one-year announcement last week. Granted, the position at the highly regarded Boston-area private University was "open rank". But geez. I guess they were being picky though. This last application (closed October 11) was actually the third time I had applied there. Once a year before, for a position they didn't fill. Once over the summer for a one-year interim post to cover the position they didn't fill. And finally again. The difference was, I had my PhD in hand this last time. Ah well, one more down.
Now for some writing and translating. Honest. But I do have an excuse, #1 has a 102.5F temperature, which I checked after we got back from the dentist.
Another rejection letter
It's odd in a way: I feel relief now that the rejection letters are starting to trickle in. It's not that I'm happy about the rejection. It's that 1) silence for me is the worst torture; and 2) once I have the letters in hand, I can a) feel relieved that I didn't get hired by such a doltish department if the letter is callous or dull (as ProfessorMe's mom would say, I should be pleased for the things I don't want that I don't get); or b) satisfied that I was considered but determined not to be the best fit for their program. In any case, I can move on.
Here an excerpt from the latest letter from the flagship campus of a large state university:
... Thank you for your interest in applying for one of our open faculty positions. Unfortunately, you were not one of the applicants whose materials were chosen for our finalist list.
We received many highly qualified applications for our search, and you were one of those applicants. I wish you success in your efforts to obtain a faculty position in the near future.
Well, that's nice enough. You always wonder, do they say the same to all of the applicants? I mean, not everyone is equally qualified. Do they really believe what they say? Are they sincere in wishing me success in landing a faculty post?
But then, it doesn't really matter, does it? I believe I'm highly qualified. I believe I am worthy of a faculty post, worthy to stand up before a lecture hall full of eager freshman, and a seminar room sparcely populated by graduate students. I know I have interesting questions to pose, enlightening methods of addressing them, and illuminating answers to present. I just have to have the patience and the perseverance to make it through these trials, to find that proper fit. It will come. I do believe.
Here an excerpt from the latest letter from the flagship campus of a large state university:
... Thank you for your interest in applying for one of our open faculty positions. Unfortunately, you were not one of the applicants whose materials were chosen for our finalist list.
We received many highly qualified applications for our search, and you were one of those applicants. I wish you success in your efforts to obtain a faculty position in the near future.
Well, that's nice enough. You always wonder, do they say the same to all of the applicants? I mean, not everyone is equally qualified. Do they really believe what they say? Are they sincere in wishing me success in landing a faculty post?
But then, it doesn't really matter, does it? I believe I'm highly qualified. I believe I am worthy of a faculty post, worthy to stand up before a lecture hall full of eager freshman, and a seminar room sparcely populated by graduate students. I know I have interesting questions to pose, enlightening methods of addressing them, and illuminating answers to present. I just have to have the patience and the perseverance to make it through these trials, to find that proper fit. It will come. I do believe.
Shifting priorities
Recently, I realized how silly it was that I have gotten stuck in some old habits, mostly regarding money, that don't seem to make as much sense any more.
For instance, I've long been in the habit of knowing what gas stations have the cheapest prices, and planning my trips around getting to them without going too far out of my way. I realized, if I spend a little time thinking about it, I can save 10-15 cents per gallon. Okay, we're talking about 10 gallons per week. So... I can make the extra effort to save myself $1.00 to $1.50 per week. Hmmm. Now, when I was poor, when I paid my rent on a credit card check, because I simply didn't have the cash, that made sense. Every buck was another can of tuna, or a couple boxes of mac n' cheese.
But I've realized that I'll go out and spend $60 or $70 on dinner for me and the wife sometimes. One glass of wine at a nice restaurant goes for $6 or $8. If I forego that once every month or so, it makes up for the difference in gas, and then some. Or... if I simply ride my bike instead of driving, it gives me exercise, and saves a lot more on gas (and pollutes less, to boot).
I've also realized that it's okay to spend money on clothes, which I do wear most days. My wife and I were out over the weekend, and spent our date buying shoes, then having dinner. It's silly and funny I know, that a thirty-something married couple buys shoes on a date. But we both needed them. We'd both had some shoes (which we wore quite often) that were older than our children (and #1 is going on four soon). They had been resoled, and repaired, but needed to be replaced. What we came to think about is that we have been stuck in our old thinking that (while we'd like to maintain our frugality) doesn't really reflect our current situation. We hate clutter, but we won't throw things out if they still have a quantum of use left. That sort of thing.
All this is to say, I've been thinking more and more about old habits, well established, that need to be modified, or rethought. What about you? What old habits do you have from your younger days that need rethinking?
For instance, I've long been in the habit of knowing what gas stations have the cheapest prices, and planning my trips around getting to them without going too far out of my way. I realized, if I spend a little time thinking about it, I can save 10-15 cents per gallon. Okay, we're talking about 10 gallons per week. So... I can make the extra effort to save myself $1.00 to $1.50 per week. Hmmm. Now, when I was poor, when I paid my rent on a credit card check, because I simply didn't have the cash, that made sense. Every buck was another can of tuna, or a couple boxes of mac n' cheese.
But I've realized that I'll go out and spend $60 or $70 on dinner for me and the wife sometimes. One glass of wine at a nice restaurant goes for $6 or $8. If I forego that once every month or so, it makes up for the difference in gas, and then some. Or... if I simply ride my bike instead of driving, it gives me exercise, and saves a lot more on gas (and pollutes less, to boot).
I've also realized that it's okay to spend money on clothes, which I do wear most days. My wife and I were out over the weekend, and spent our date buying shoes, then having dinner. It's silly and funny I know, that a thirty-something married couple buys shoes on a date. But we both needed them. We'd both had some shoes (which we wore quite often) that were older than our children (and #1 is going on four soon). They had been resoled, and repaired, but needed to be replaced. What we came to think about is that we have been stuck in our old thinking that (while we'd like to maintain our frugality) doesn't really reflect our current situation. We hate clutter, but we won't throw things out if they still have a quantum of use left. That sort of thing.
All this is to say, I've been thinking more and more about old habits, well established, that need to be modified, or rethought. What about you? What old habits do you have from your younger days that need rethinking?
Lazy day
A lazy start to the day. It's nearly 10:00, and all I've done is shower, have breakfast (it took #1 about an hour to finish his English muffin egg sandwich), then write a letter with him to Parenting magazing (which by the way is really annoying, because it's 99.3% geared toward mothering, not parenting, as if dads don't count), to say that he really doesn't like the picture on the Mucinex advertisement. I told him we could write them a letter and send it back. I think it's a good way to get him used to the idea of writing, and the power of words to communicate, as well as his ability to act in the world, rather than simply observing.
Next stop, I have to take him to the dentist again, for a follow up visit from the suturing we got done two weeks ago. He said it doesn't hurt anymore, so why do we have to go. I explained that it's a way for the dentist to make a little extra money, so we can help pay for his mortgage. He let it go at that.
Other than that, I've checked my email, and read my regular blogs, and such.
Yesterday was long but mostly uninspiring. I drove the Hyundai to the dealership to get some warranty work done. After about 2 hours at the dealership (where kindly they let me set up my laptop on a desk and do some work) the service manager explained that they couldn't find the problem, which meant it was likely in the transmission, but that would take an entire day to determine, so they couldn't do it then. (It's about 45 minutes drive to the closest dealership!) So I'd have to bring it back and leave it for a day, but possibly 3 days or even a week! And they'd have no loaner for us. I said we'd bring it back over the weekend, and leave it there.
And somehow, although he suspects it's the transmission (which is covered under warranty), in taking that apart, he'd compromise the clutch (only 35,000 miles on it), so he'd recommend replacing that too, which would only cost us about $350 for parts now, or we could replace it down the road for about $750 (including labor). The more he talked, the less I could make sense of it all. At a certain point, you just have to suck it up and trust them. But my wife suggested we check into how long a clutch ought to last (35k miles sounds really short to both of us), and maybe get a second quote from an independent.
Nice thing was I got to have lunch with my wife when I got back to town. Then about 3 hours of sitting in front of the computer. Can't say much of it was work, but some of it counts. I'll plan to be as productive as possible this afternoon. Wish me luck.
Next stop, I have to take him to the dentist again, for a follow up visit from the suturing we got done two weeks ago. He said it doesn't hurt anymore, so why do we have to go. I explained that it's a way for the dentist to make a little extra money, so we can help pay for his mortgage. He let it go at that.
Other than that, I've checked my email, and read my regular blogs, and such.
Yesterday was long but mostly uninspiring. I drove the Hyundai to the dealership to get some warranty work done. After about 2 hours at the dealership (where kindly they let me set up my laptop on a desk and do some work) the service manager explained that they couldn't find the problem, which meant it was likely in the transmission, but that would take an entire day to determine, so they couldn't do it then. (It's about 45 minutes drive to the closest dealership!) So I'd have to bring it back and leave it for a day, but possibly 3 days or even a week! And they'd have no loaner for us. I said we'd bring it back over the weekend, and leave it there.
And somehow, although he suspects it's the transmission (which is covered under warranty), in taking that apart, he'd compromise the clutch (only 35,000 miles on it), so he'd recommend replacing that too, which would only cost us about $350 for parts now, or we could replace it down the road for about $750 (including labor). The more he talked, the less I could make sense of it all. At a certain point, you just have to suck it up and trust them. But my wife suggested we check into how long a clutch ought to last (35k miles sounds really short to both of us), and maybe get a second quote from an independent.
Nice thing was I got to have lunch with my wife when I got back to town. Then about 3 hours of sitting in front of the computer. Can't say much of it was work, but some of it counts. I'll plan to be as productive as possible this afternoon. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Coretta Scott King (Rest in Peace)
I was listening to NPR this morning, as I drove the 45 minutes to the nearest Hyundai dealership for warranty work. Steve Inskeep was on, talking with Juan Williams. The emphasis is mine. Discussion to follow. Timing is marked in parentheses after the quotes. Here are some snippets:
Steve Inskeep: President Bush is expected to attend today's funeral in Atlanta for Coretta Scott King. The wife of civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. died last week at the age of 78. After her husband's assassination, in 1968, she became known as the keeper of his legacy. And for many her death marks the passing of an era. (0:0-0:17)
...
Juan Williams: ... so in a way, I think, Steve, what you see here, is .. in .. uh .. a total acceptance and embrace of the Martin Luther King, Jr. legacy, as the black middle class in the U.S. .. uh.. progresses into becoming American middle class. I think it's a significant moment in that transition. It's sort of a .. a new black power. (1:23-1:41)
...
Steve Inskeep: Well, of all the leaders, who speaks for poor African Americans, the kind of people who were brought into the national news by Hurricane Katrina?
(2:55-3:03)
Juan Williams: I think there's a tremendous pressure.. uh.. on black middle class not to separate.. black Americans not to separate by class..
(3:22-3:29)
Okay, first let's tackle the "wife of" "husband's legacy" bit. I'll say this, there's been too much bunkum hoopla about the assault on marriage. Let's talk straight. Marriage is a partnership between two people. If it's not a partnership, then it's not worthy of the title. And if it is a partnership... let's give it the same legal status regardless of the gender of both parties.
Coretta Scott King and Martin Luther King, Jr. were partners. They were both civil rights leaders. She was a leader before 1968, even if it was more behind the scenes than her husband. But, even if all she had provided was support for her husband, we need to have due respect for the beauty of such a partnership, that renders its participants greater than they would be otherwise.
And in the 38 years since his death (the full extent of my life so far, I might add) she has been a leader in her own right, not merely a keeper of his legacy. Let's give her the respect she is due.
Now, onto the next part. What did Mr. King say those many years ago:
"I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."
We perpetuate the prejudice by perpetuating the argument that the color of one's skin, or the language spoken at home, or what have you, is the proper determinant of who we are. Who we are is the product of our background and our experience. It is influenced by what we think and expect of ourselves, and what is thought and expected of us. That is to say, class matters, at least as much as skin color.
The point of the civil rights movement has properly been the dismantling of prejudice itself and its effects. To categorize any group of people on the basis of external or abitrary features is by its very nature perpetuating the very thing that Coretta and Martin King sought to redress.
Steve Inskeep: President Bush is expected to attend today's funeral in Atlanta for Coretta Scott King. The wife of civil rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. died last week at the age of 78. After her husband's assassination, in 1968, she became known as the keeper of his legacy. And for many her death marks the passing of an era. (0:0-0:17)
...
Juan Williams: ... so in a way, I think, Steve, what you see here, is .. in .. uh .. a total acceptance and embrace of the Martin Luther King, Jr. legacy, as the black middle class in the U.S. .. uh.. progresses into becoming American middle class. I think it's a significant moment in that transition. It's sort of a .. a new black power. (1:23-1:41)
...
Steve Inskeep: Well, of all the leaders, who speaks for poor African Americans, the kind of people who were brought into the national news by Hurricane Katrina?
(2:55-3:03)
Juan Williams: I think there's a tremendous pressure.. uh.. on black middle class not to separate.. black Americans not to separate by class..
(3:22-3:29)
Okay, first let's tackle the "wife of" "husband's legacy" bit. I'll say this, there's been too much bunkum hoopla about the assault on marriage. Let's talk straight. Marriage is a partnership between two people. If it's not a partnership, then it's not worthy of the title. And if it is a partnership... let's give it the same legal status regardless of the gender of both parties.
Coretta Scott King and Martin Luther King, Jr. were partners. They were both civil rights leaders. She was a leader before 1968, even if it was more behind the scenes than her husband. But, even if all she had provided was support for her husband, we need to have due respect for the beauty of such a partnership, that renders its participants greater than they would be otherwise.
And in the 38 years since his death (the full extent of my life so far, I might add) she has been a leader in her own right, not merely a keeper of his legacy. Let's give her the respect she is due.
Now, onto the next part. What did Mr. King say those many years ago:
"I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."
We perpetuate the prejudice by perpetuating the argument that the color of one's skin, or the language spoken at home, or what have you, is the proper determinant of who we are. Who we are is the product of our background and our experience. It is influenced by what we think and expect of ourselves, and what is thought and expected of us. That is to say, class matters, at least as much as skin color.
The point of the civil rights movement has properly been the dismantling of prejudice itself and its effects. To categorize any group of people on the basis of external or abitrary features is by its very nature perpetuating the very thing that Coretta and Martin King sought to redress.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Feeling pretty good
As you may have surmised, I've been feeling pretty well lately. It's been nice to spend some time talking with my wife. It's funny, since she's been working 50 hour weeks for about three weeks running. You'd think we wouldn't find any time for us. But... it's the old truism: the more I have to do, the more gets done.
We're still finding time for a weekly date, which is wonderful. Lately, I'm spending less time worrying about things, and more time doing things. I'm counting blogging, since it's proved rather therapeutic for me. It's a good community out here. Thanks.
The job seasons still plods along. Got two letters today. One: "thanks for your interest... we've completed our preliminary reviews... sorry to say, your dossier will not be moving to the next stage;" and one: "Thank you for your interest... please complete this form pigeonholing yourself into some ridiculously amorphous ethnic/racial category that the government requires us to pigeonhole you into. We'll be reviewing materials soon, and hope to keep you appraised of our progress."
So, it continues. I've settled a bit more into the routine of it. Thanks agin to Professor Me for her astute commentary on my post a couple weeks ago. I'm remembering that what I really want is a job that I will love, not simply any ole job. Remembering that, helps ameliorate the frustrations of it all. I'm trying to keep in perspective my longer term goals, rather than worrying about one season. I'm really doing all I can, and while surely I try to put my best face on in applications, I'm making every effort to be honest in them as well, and to present myself as I really wish to be seen. Then at least I'll know when someone does call, that they're interested in me, not merely some facade that I or they will realize for a charade down the road.
In the words of Wilson Phillips: And it goes on... You won't see me cry. You know I've decided that I'm gonna pull myself together...
Good night.
We're still finding time for a weekly date, which is wonderful. Lately, I'm spending less time worrying about things, and more time doing things. I'm counting blogging, since it's proved rather therapeutic for me. It's a good community out here. Thanks.
The job seasons still plods along. Got two letters today. One: "thanks for your interest... we've completed our preliminary reviews... sorry to say, your dossier will not be moving to the next stage;" and one: "Thank you for your interest... please complete this form pigeonholing yourself into some ridiculously amorphous ethnic/racial category that the government requires us to pigeonhole you into. We'll be reviewing materials soon, and hope to keep you appraised of our progress."
So, it continues. I've settled a bit more into the routine of it. Thanks agin to Professor Me for her astute commentary on my post a couple weeks ago. I'm remembering that what I really want is a job that I will love, not simply any ole job. Remembering that, helps ameliorate the frustrations of it all. I'm trying to keep in perspective my longer term goals, rather than worrying about one season. I'm really doing all I can, and while surely I try to put my best face on in applications, I'm making every effort to be honest in them as well, and to present myself as I really wish to be seen. Then at least I'll know when someone does call, that they're interested in me, not merely some facade that I or they will realize for a charade down the road.
In the words of Wilson Phillips: And it goes on... You won't see me cry. You know I've decided that I'm gonna pull myself together...
Good night.
First, a recipe
For those of you who like recipes. Tonight's dinner. Yum! Anyone fat-averse, turn away now.
Articulate Dad's Quick White Clam Sauce (serve with linguine, or whatever you like)
Ingredients
One can whole baby clams
2-3 tbsp ghee (or butter)
1 tbsp crushed or chopped garlic
1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
1/4-1/2 cup cream (or milk)
2 tbsp grated cheese
1 tbsp corn starch
1-2 dashes of white pepper
1/2 dash nutmeg
1-2 dashes oregano
Preparation
Warm butter or ghee over medium heat. Add garlic. Stir. Let simmer for a minute or two. Add mushrooms, and stir for a couple minutes. Drain clams, reserve liquid. Add clams to the pan. Mix 2 tbsp of clam juice with 1 tbsp of corn starch in a small prep bowl. Set aside. Stir clams. Add cream or milk. Stir. Bring just to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Stir for a minute. Add 1/2 cup of clam juice. Stir. Add cheese, and the spices. Stir. Mix the corn starch again, then add to the sauce. Raise heat to medium again, stirring constantly, until sauce thickens (about one minute). Remove from heat. Spoon over pasta. Eat. Yum!
Articulate Dad's Quick White Clam Sauce (serve with linguine, or whatever you like)
Ingredients
One can whole baby clams
2-3 tbsp ghee (or butter)
1 tbsp crushed or chopped garlic
1/2 cup sliced mushrooms
1/4-1/2 cup cream (or milk)
2 tbsp grated cheese
1 tbsp corn starch
1-2 dashes of white pepper
1/2 dash nutmeg
1-2 dashes oregano
Preparation
Warm butter or ghee over medium heat. Add garlic. Stir. Let simmer for a minute or two. Add mushrooms, and stir for a couple minutes. Drain clams, reserve liquid. Add clams to the pan. Mix 2 tbsp of clam juice with 1 tbsp of corn starch in a small prep bowl. Set aside. Stir clams. Add cream or milk. Stir. Bring just to a boil, then reduce heat to low. Stir for a minute. Add 1/2 cup of clam juice. Stir. Add cheese, and the spices. Stir. Mix the corn starch again, then add to the sauce. Raise heat to medium again, stirring constantly, until sauce thickens (about one minute). Remove from heat. Spoon over pasta. Eat. Yum!
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Balancing work and life
It's nice to know what I want in life, at least for the moment. And it's good to have a truly supportive partner for a wife. We were talking about careers lately. She's a professional, in a field that happens to be more lucrative and more in demand than academia. But she's not wedded to her career (well, in fact, she's wedded to me).
Several years ago (before I went back to school for the PhD) she was miserable in her work. She had gone into her field in part out of idealism. She felt that she'd be able to help change the world for the better. A good reason to get into any field, I warrant. The reality of her first job out of grad school however was a shock to her. It was boring her, and seemed to have little connection with the greater good. She considered various alternatives.
She was ready for a change, and pushed me to go back to school, to follow my passions. The timing was good. Once the move became reality for her however she decided to take a conservative route. As she put it, so much in our lives was already changing; maybe she should stick with her field. She had experience in it; she did it well; and it paid better than most other things she was interested in. As it turned out, the new job and the new company were quite different from the first. She was no longer bored. And she felt genuinely appreciated, not only by her coworkers (which were wonderful even at her old job) but also by the company itself.
Then we had our first son. That only added to her degree of satisfaction in life. She was happy at work, but realized she didn't need to expect her job to fulfill all of her life's goals. And, while it's not exactly what she had envisioned as a young undergrad going into the field, the work she does does have a positive impact on society at large. I'm proud of her.
So it is difficult at times when I consider that pursuing two careers sometimes requires compromise. I hope against hope that we will eventually find one geographic region where we can both pursue our careers, and not have to sacrifice our family life. But that time may not come immediately.
I mentioned last week this post in the UK that I was pretty excited to apply for. It would be a good career move for me, but I was concerned about the prospects for her. With a spouse and children, you have to consider these things even before applying! (Nicely, there is work in her area in that region, but who knows how much in demand her expertise might be.) She said, she was eager to get through the current project for which she has lead responsibility. But after that, she'd be game to play trailing spouse for a little while. So, we'll take each step as it comes.
There are certain restrictions to what sort of job I'm willing to take. I'm not going to move the family for something I'm iffy about. If I am to take a chance on a gig, or take on a one-year post somewhere, I've got to make sure it's commutable, either within driving distance, or somewhere I could fly to, spending 3-4 days per week away, and the remaining time at home. If it's somewhere we have relatives, then the boys can come with me on alternate weeks. Not ideal, but reality.
I think one of the problems for academics is that sometimes it is hard to distinguish work from life. It is a skill I feel a need to cultivate. I've mentioned before how I reject the common advice that one should pursue a given path only if it's the one thing that could make you happy. There are many things one can do to make a living.
But life... see, I am a thinker. My eyes sparkle (so my wife tells me) and my heart races, and I happily spend sleepless nights thinking about certain things, coming up with new research projects, drafting grant proposals, reading books and articles, cursing and praising what I read, with the same vigor that most men talk about sports plays. I shine when I talk to people about it, whether it's one on one at a party, or in front of a classroom, or giving an invited lecture or conference talk. I truly truly love that work. I can't say that becoming a professor is the only thing I could do (I'm too much of a realist to pin my hat on an uncertain hope), but I'm not sure I'd ever be properly myself, or genuinely happy in life if I couldn't pursue my work.
Several years ago (before I went back to school for the PhD) she was miserable in her work. She had gone into her field in part out of idealism. She felt that she'd be able to help change the world for the better. A good reason to get into any field, I warrant. The reality of her first job out of grad school however was a shock to her. It was boring her, and seemed to have little connection with the greater good. She considered various alternatives.
She was ready for a change, and pushed me to go back to school, to follow my passions. The timing was good. Once the move became reality for her however she decided to take a conservative route. As she put it, so much in our lives was already changing; maybe she should stick with her field. She had experience in it; she did it well; and it paid better than most other things she was interested in. As it turned out, the new job and the new company were quite different from the first. She was no longer bored. And she felt genuinely appreciated, not only by her coworkers (which were wonderful even at her old job) but also by the company itself.
Then we had our first son. That only added to her degree of satisfaction in life. She was happy at work, but realized she didn't need to expect her job to fulfill all of her life's goals. And, while it's not exactly what she had envisioned as a young undergrad going into the field, the work she does does have a positive impact on society at large. I'm proud of her.
So it is difficult at times when I consider that pursuing two careers sometimes requires compromise. I hope against hope that we will eventually find one geographic region where we can both pursue our careers, and not have to sacrifice our family life. But that time may not come immediately.
I mentioned last week this post in the UK that I was pretty excited to apply for. It would be a good career move for me, but I was concerned about the prospects for her. With a spouse and children, you have to consider these things even before applying! (Nicely, there is work in her area in that region, but who knows how much in demand her expertise might be.) She said, she was eager to get through the current project for which she has lead responsibility. But after that, she'd be game to play trailing spouse for a little while. So, we'll take each step as it comes.
There are certain restrictions to what sort of job I'm willing to take. I'm not going to move the family for something I'm iffy about. If I am to take a chance on a gig, or take on a one-year post somewhere, I've got to make sure it's commutable, either within driving distance, or somewhere I could fly to, spending 3-4 days per week away, and the remaining time at home. If it's somewhere we have relatives, then the boys can come with me on alternate weeks. Not ideal, but reality.
I think one of the problems for academics is that sometimes it is hard to distinguish work from life. It is a skill I feel a need to cultivate. I've mentioned before how I reject the common advice that one should pursue a given path only if it's the one thing that could make you happy. There are many things one can do to make a living.
But life... see, I am a thinker. My eyes sparkle (so my wife tells me) and my heart races, and I happily spend sleepless nights thinking about certain things, coming up with new research projects, drafting grant proposals, reading books and articles, cursing and praising what I read, with the same vigor that most men talk about sports plays. I shine when I talk to people about it, whether it's one on one at a party, or in front of a classroom, or giving an invited lecture or conference talk. I truly truly love that work. I can't say that becoming a professor is the only thing I could do (I'm too much of a realist to pin my hat on an uncertain hope), but I'm not sure I'd ever be properly myself, or genuinely happy in life if I couldn't pursue my work.
Saturday, February 04, 2006
What do I want?
This is a simple question, but one very difficult to answer.
Do you want fries with that?
What do I want? When I wrote that poem (below), I was a 20-something undergrad in the midwest, struggling to pay my bills, and support myself through college. In fact, I conceived the poem, and drafted it in my head while mowing grass for income.
What did I want then? I wanted self-awareness. I wanted financial freedom. I wanted to live in a world free from prejudice. Three simple things.
Today (though it is an ongoing process) I believe I have a degree of self-awareness. I am mostly financially solvent. If we ever sell this house, the first thing we will do with the proceeds is pay off all of our student loans. That is the last remaining debt my wife and I have. We own our car. We own our van. The mortgage on our house will be paid off once it sells. We own our books (many, many books, filling a 4'x7' and two 3.5'x6' cases, plus overflow). Finally achieving that complete freedom will be a time for much celebration.
I realize, on the last count (a world free from prejudice) that sadly, unlike the first two, this rests in wanting things of the outside world, on which I have but a small influence. But I can live my life without prejudice, and I can confront it when I encounter it.
So, I know what I wanted at 25. But what do I want at 38 that perhaps I could not have foreseen then? First, I have realized the importance of knowing the difference between what I want, and what I need. There are few things in life that we truly need. At the moment, none of them are denied me. But what do I want?
...
Perhaps I'll start with the easier question: what don't I want?
I don't want to give up my search for a faculty post.
I don't want to become my father. He had great potential, that was never fully realized. He saw in me the fulfillment of one aspect of himself. I wish he had lived to see me complete the dissertation. But that, alas, is the past.
I don't want bitterness, dissatisfaction, and frustration to rule my life.
I want delight in my family life. I want to watch my children grow. I want to hold my wife in my arms twenty years from now and lovingly look into her eyes with joy and amazement that we are still together and still in love.
I want to find satisfaction in my professional life, a modicum of recognition that what I do is worthy. I want to see the eurekas in my students' eyes as something I say fires off neurons in conjunction which have never before met in their brains, and join them excitedly after a lecture, as they breathlessly and incoherently exclaim what they will spend the next 30 years pursuing.
I want to publish books about my research that inspire others, both academics and the general intellectual public. I want to be invited to give talks, and be interviewed on the radio.
I want to become truly fluent in the seven languages I've studied (okay, English I've already mastered), and learn another seven more.
I want to travel and see parts of the world I haven't seen. I want to walk arm in arm with my wife, and hold my children as we see polar bears in Alaska; the midnight sun in Finland; Mango trees in the Phillipines; Komodo Dragons in Indonesia; Rainforests in Brazil; Hominid fossils in Kenya.
I want to never fully retire from research and teaching, and living life. But I want to sail in exotic seas, and feel at one with the wind, and the waters, and the sky. I want to garden in my old age, and never feel old, eating ripe tomatoes fresh from the vine, with the warm ooze dripping off my lips, and know that I have truly been a part of this world, and most of all that it is a better place for my having lived than the one I came into.
That is what I want!
Do you want fries with that?
What do I want? When I wrote that poem (below), I was a 20-something undergrad in the midwest, struggling to pay my bills, and support myself through college. In fact, I conceived the poem, and drafted it in my head while mowing grass for income.
What did I want then? I wanted self-awareness. I wanted financial freedom. I wanted to live in a world free from prejudice. Three simple things.
Today (though it is an ongoing process) I believe I have a degree of self-awareness. I am mostly financially solvent. If we ever sell this house, the first thing we will do with the proceeds is pay off all of our student loans. That is the last remaining debt my wife and I have. We own our car. We own our van. The mortgage on our house will be paid off once it sells. We own our books (many, many books, filling a 4'x7' and two 3.5'x6' cases, plus overflow). Finally achieving that complete freedom will be a time for much celebration.
I realize, on the last count (a world free from prejudice) that sadly, unlike the first two, this rests in wanting things of the outside world, on which I have but a small influence. But I can live my life without prejudice, and I can confront it when I encounter it.
So, I know what I wanted at 25. But what do I want at 38 that perhaps I could not have foreseen then? First, I have realized the importance of knowing the difference between what I want, and what I need. There are few things in life that we truly need. At the moment, none of them are denied me. But what do I want?
...
Perhaps I'll start with the easier question: what don't I want?
I don't want to give up my search for a faculty post.
I don't want to become my father. He had great potential, that was never fully realized. He saw in me the fulfillment of one aspect of himself. I wish he had lived to see me complete the dissertation. But that, alas, is the past.
I don't want bitterness, dissatisfaction, and frustration to rule my life.
I want delight in my family life. I want to watch my children grow. I want to hold my wife in my arms twenty years from now and lovingly look into her eyes with joy and amazement that we are still together and still in love.
I want to find satisfaction in my professional life, a modicum of recognition that what I do is worthy. I want to see the eurekas in my students' eyes as something I say fires off neurons in conjunction which have never before met in their brains, and join them excitedly after a lecture, as they breathlessly and incoherently exclaim what they will spend the next 30 years pursuing.
I want to publish books about my research that inspire others, both academics and the general intellectual public. I want to be invited to give talks, and be interviewed on the radio.
I want to become truly fluent in the seven languages I've studied (okay, English I've already mastered), and learn another seven more.
I want to travel and see parts of the world I haven't seen. I want to walk arm in arm with my wife, and hold my children as we see polar bears in Alaska; the midnight sun in Finland; Mango trees in the Phillipines; Komodo Dragons in Indonesia; Rainforests in Brazil; Hominid fossils in Kenya.
I want to never fully retire from research and teaching, and living life. But I want to sail in exotic seas, and feel at one with the wind, and the waters, and the sky. I want to garden in my old age, and never feel old, eating ripe tomatoes fresh from the vine, with the warm ooze dripping off my lips, and know that I have truly been a part of this world, and most of all that it is a better place for my having lived than the one I came into.
That is what I want!
First, a poem (from 1993... Yikes!)
Reflections on Nature (5/1/93)
I used to pity the beasts of the wild,
not civilized, like me,
who are condemned by fate, or nature,
to spend an exorbitant amount of time
pursuing living,
that is, the bare necessities of life:
food, protection, shelter.
And yet,
when I am alone with myself,
I sometimes, sadly,
find that I have no other thoughts
than of when I shall be free
from the debt that enslaves me,
when I shall have enough means
to buy the things I want to own,
and eat the things I wish to afford.
And now I pity, most of all, the creature,
whether it be myself (in those hours)
or anyone else, who, in deeming oneself,
or one's species, or one's race,
superior to another,
fails to explore one's innermost depths.
Have we progressed so far,
that we not only judge our fellow humans,
but all of nature as well?
I used to pity the beasts of the wild,
not civilized, like me,
who are condemned by fate, or nature,
to spend an exorbitant amount of time
pursuing living,
that is, the bare necessities of life:
food, protection, shelter.
And yet,
when I am alone with myself,
I sometimes, sadly,
find that I have no other thoughts
than of when I shall be free
from the debt that enslaves me,
when I shall have enough means
to buy the things I want to own,
and eat the things I wish to afford.
And now I pity, most of all, the creature,
whether it be myself (in those hours)
or anyone else, who, in deeming oneself,
or one's species, or one's race,
superior to another,
fails to explore one's innermost depths.
Have we progressed so far,
that we not only judge our fellow humans,
but all of nature as well?
Friday, February 03, 2006
What have I been doing?
It's been an odd week, passing by quickly, but most of what I've done is unrelated to research. One thing I did this week was our taxes. For some reason we got mailed a free copy of H&R Block's TaxCut software. We've been using TurboTax for years. In any case, the taxes were really good news. It looks like we'll be getting back a large sum, which will be nice. Because of the move, and so many uncertainties in life, we really didn't know.
Also, we've been dealing with our real estate troubles. We're renting a house now. We're in a very high cost market, and the alternative would be to buy a tiny place, or commute about 45 minutes-hour each way. Renting is perhaps 40% cheaper in monthly expenses. And, since we really don't know how long we will be here (since I continue to look for a "permanent" tenure-track faculty appointment), it doesn't make sense to even try.
But we own a house in our old locale, still. It's been on the market since JUNE! We fired the last agent... well, we let the contract lapse. Quick advice: when you want to sell a house, negotiate a short initial agreement with your agent. If you're satisfied that they are working for you, even if the place hasn't sold, you can always renew. We signed a six-month exclusivity clause. Never again.
Well, we have a new agent now, and will be listing in the next week or so, at a price nearly $30,000 less than initially. But, we just want to sell it. It's expensive enough to cover our rental here, but to have a mortgage on a vacant house! Okay, enough of that.
Next, I've been working on a new round of job applications. There are fewer postings these days, but I'm putting a great deal more effort into the applications. I'm excited by the prospect of this post in the UK. All I have left to work up today is a "list of publications," which I'll prepare as an annotated listing, with two or three sentences describing each article. I'll also include two "in preparation" articles, to show them what I'm working on at the moment. This place asked for a "one-page outline of research interests and future plans" and a list of publications, in addition to the CV and cover letter, and their school's application form.
I think it's a good sign. I am a researcher. I look like a researcher. I enjoy teaching, and I'm happy to do it. But I hate having to dumb down my work to pretend research is only a small part of what I do. I don't believe that research is in opposition to teaching. Quite the contrary, I believe that a good researcher is one who is able to make their work relevant to as broad an audience as possible, who is able to explain their work to a variety of audiences, and who is able to find the connections between their work and the interests of an undergraduate population, a graduate student body, and the general public. It looks like this school is interested in researcher/scholar/teachers, so it should be a good fit, assuming of course.
Today I received a letter from a nearby school (okay it's 2.5 hours from here) but anything that doesn't require a plane counts as nearby. They were requesting additional supporting materials, but the deadline was two days ago. (I called and they said I could email the materials in .pdf, so I did). The letter was dated 23 Jan, but only arrived today. Hmmm... So I look, and discover that they mailed it to my old address (1100 miles away). Why? This is the second or third time a school has used an old address of mine for correspondence, even though I did not include that address in my cover letter or CV. As best I can guess someone simply took the address off of a transcript or something that they had requested. What gives? Come on, folks, read the cover letter, look at the CV. Don't just pull random addresses out of the ether. What do they think, graduate students and post-docs don't ever move?
Also, we've been dealing with our real estate troubles. We're renting a house now. We're in a very high cost market, and the alternative would be to buy a tiny place, or commute about 45 minutes-hour each way. Renting is perhaps 40% cheaper in monthly expenses. And, since we really don't know how long we will be here (since I continue to look for a "permanent" tenure-track faculty appointment), it doesn't make sense to even try.
But we own a house in our old locale, still. It's been on the market since JUNE! We fired the last agent... well, we let the contract lapse. Quick advice: when you want to sell a house, negotiate a short initial agreement with your agent. If you're satisfied that they are working for you, even if the place hasn't sold, you can always renew. We signed a six-month exclusivity clause. Never again.
Well, we have a new agent now, and will be listing in the next week or so, at a price nearly $30,000 less than initially. But, we just want to sell it. It's expensive enough to cover our rental here, but to have a mortgage on a vacant house! Okay, enough of that.
Next, I've been working on a new round of job applications. There are fewer postings these days, but I'm putting a great deal more effort into the applications. I'm excited by the prospect of this post in the UK. All I have left to work up today is a "list of publications," which I'll prepare as an annotated listing, with two or three sentences describing each article. I'll also include two "in preparation" articles, to show them what I'm working on at the moment. This place asked for a "one-page outline of research interests and future plans" and a list of publications, in addition to the CV and cover letter, and their school's application form.
I think it's a good sign. I am a researcher. I look like a researcher. I enjoy teaching, and I'm happy to do it. But I hate having to dumb down my work to pretend research is only a small part of what I do. I don't believe that research is in opposition to teaching. Quite the contrary, I believe that a good researcher is one who is able to make their work relevant to as broad an audience as possible, who is able to explain their work to a variety of audiences, and who is able to find the connections between their work and the interests of an undergraduate population, a graduate student body, and the general public. It looks like this school is interested in researcher/scholar/teachers, so it should be a good fit, assuming of course.
Today I received a letter from a nearby school (okay it's 2.5 hours from here) but anything that doesn't require a plane counts as nearby. They were requesting additional supporting materials, but the deadline was two days ago. (I called and they said I could email the materials in .pdf, so I did). The letter was dated 23 Jan, but only arrived today. Hmmm... So I look, and discover that they mailed it to my old address (1100 miles away). Why? This is the second or third time a school has used an old address of mine for correspondence, even though I did not include that address in my cover letter or CV. As best I can guess someone simply took the address off of a transcript or something that they had requested. What gives? Come on, folks, read the cover letter, look at the CV. Don't just pull random addresses out of the ether. What do they think, graduate students and post-docs don't ever move?
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Another Five Things Meme
Courtesy of the one whose dissertation miraculously begins to write itself.
Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.
1) Seeking Solace
2) Statgirl
3) ScienceWoman
4) Professor Me
5) Post-PhD Blues (ArticulateDad)
Next select five people to tag (Sorry!):
1) Young Female Scientist
2) YesYelloCello
3) J. Dryden (AKA Will's Coffee House)
4) The PhD Explosion
5) Wanna Be PhD
What were you doing 10 years ago?
February 1996. Wow. I was two years into my Master's program at Rice University (I would finish my final requirement Feb 1997). I was nearly a year and a half into my relationship with the woman who was to become (and still is) my wife. Like, ProfessorMe & T, C & I had become fast friends nearly from the start, but didn't admit to "having a relationship" for quite a while. We met around a keg of beer at graduate student orientation (a Rice tradition).
What were you doing 1 year ago?
February 2005. I was still mourning my father's demise (He died of prostate cancer in November 2004, after nearly three years of holding on). I was still in disbelief about the birth of our second son (born a month to the day after my father's death, and named after him). And, I was deep in the final throes (I mean really, not in Dick Cheney's sense) of my dissertation. I was to send it off the final version to committee on March 2, 2005.
Five snacks you enjoy:
1) Reese's peanut butter cups (or any good knock off).
2) Swedish Fish & Swedish berries (Yum!)
3) Ice Cream (especially Haagen-Dazs Dulce de leche and numerous flavors by Ben & Jerry's. I've even been known to make my own (Pumpkin, strawberry, coffee)
4)Carr's table water crackers (or an appropriately similar type) with brie and other assorted cheeses.
5) My wife's lips!
Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
1) Erlkönig (Franz Schubert, words by Goethe)
2) Ciganské píseň č. 4: "Když mne stará matka" (Antonín Dvořák)
3) All I want to do (Sheryl Crow)
4) Come Rain or Come Shine (Billie Holiday's version)
5) Fly me to the moon (Frank Sinatra's version)
Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1) Pay off all of my student loans!
2) Take a REAL vacation (what is that anyway?)
3) Pay off middle brother's mortgage (It's about 65k, then he owns it free and clear).
4) Give oldest brother enough start up cash to get back on his feet.
5) Put the rest away for a rainy day.
Five bad habits:
1) Impatience
2) Pulling my nose hairs out (I know it's gross, but you asked for BAD HABITS)
3) Misdirected anger (I always feel bad when I take out my frustration on some poor unsuspecting customer service agent.)
4) Sloppiness. I clean my desk when the piles start falling on the floor.
5) Buying too many books!
Five things you like doing:
1) gardening
2) cooking
3) thinking about research
4) being a dad
5) spending time with my wife
Five things you would never wear again:
(of course, I can't say things I'd never wear in the first place!)
1) body chocolate (seemed like a nice idea at the time)
2) chains of safety pins (I was a punk in the 80s).
3) narrow shoes (god, I hate buying shoes... almost nobody has shoes that accomodate a high instep!)
4) a headband
5) a sign that says "kick me"
Five favorite toys:
1) Son #1
2) Son #2
3) DI (my laptop)
4) my garden tools
5) my kitchen knives & appliances
Remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so.
1) Seeking Solace
2) Statgirl
3) ScienceWoman
4) Professor Me
5) Post-PhD Blues (ArticulateDad)
Next select five people to tag (Sorry!):
1) Young Female Scientist
2) YesYelloCello
3) J. Dryden (AKA Will's Coffee House)
4) The PhD Explosion
5) Wanna Be PhD
What were you doing 10 years ago?
February 1996. Wow. I was two years into my Master's program at Rice University (I would finish my final requirement Feb 1997). I was nearly a year and a half into my relationship with the woman who was to become (and still is) my wife. Like, ProfessorMe & T, C & I had become fast friends nearly from the start, but didn't admit to "having a relationship" for quite a while. We met around a keg of beer at graduate student orientation (a Rice tradition).
What were you doing 1 year ago?
February 2005. I was still mourning my father's demise (He died of prostate cancer in November 2004, after nearly three years of holding on). I was still in disbelief about the birth of our second son (born a month to the day after my father's death, and named after him). And, I was deep in the final throes (I mean really, not in Dick Cheney's sense) of my dissertation. I was to send it off the final version to committee on March 2, 2005.
Five snacks you enjoy:
1) Reese's peanut butter cups (or any good knock off).
2) Swedish Fish & Swedish berries (Yum!)
3) Ice Cream (especially Haagen-Dazs Dulce de leche and numerous flavors by Ben & Jerry's. I've even been known to make my own (Pumpkin, strawberry, coffee)
4)Carr's table water crackers (or an appropriately similar type) with brie and other assorted cheeses.
5) My wife's lips!
Five songs to which you know all the lyrics:
1) Erlkönig (Franz Schubert, words by Goethe)
2) Ciganské píseň č. 4: "Když mne stará matka" (Antonín Dvořák)
3) All I want to do (Sheryl Crow)
4) Come Rain or Come Shine (Billie Holiday's version)
5) Fly me to the moon (Frank Sinatra's version)
Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1) Pay off all of my student loans!
2) Take a REAL vacation (what is that anyway?)
3) Pay off middle brother's mortgage (It's about 65k, then he owns it free and clear).
4) Give oldest brother enough start up cash to get back on his feet.
5) Put the rest away for a rainy day.
Five bad habits:
1) Impatience
2) Pulling my nose hairs out (I know it's gross, but you asked for BAD HABITS)
3) Misdirected anger (I always feel bad when I take out my frustration on some poor unsuspecting customer service agent.)
4) Sloppiness. I clean my desk when the piles start falling on the floor.
5) Buying too many books!
Five things you like doing:
1) gardening
2) cooking
3) thinking about research
4) being a dad
5) spending time with my wife
Five things you would never wear again:
(of course, I can't say things I'd never wear in the first place!)
1) body chocolate (seemed like a nice idea at the time)
2) chains of safety pins (I was a punk in the 80s).
3) narrow shoes (god, I hate buying shoes... almost nobody has shoes that accomodate a high instep!)
4) a headband
5) a sign that says "kick me"
Five favorite toys:
1) Son #1
2) Son #2
3) DI (my laptop)
4) my garden tools
5) my kitchen knives & appliances
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
