“Everybody needs a little time away…”

3 Jan
Image from RGBstock.com.

Image from RGBstock.com.

I haven’t been blogging because I’ve been too busy enjoying my break.

While I have a lot to do over this break, I really wanted to have a real break this year–to spend lots of time with my kids without my iPad in front of me as I did so. So, for the past two weeks that they have been off school, that is what I have done. I’ve read some books on the iPad, but I haven’t used it for work purposes at all. Aside from posting Christmas pictures or status updates on Facebook now and then, I’ve stayed off my desktop computer, too. I needed that time with my children, and they needed me. It has been wonderful and has helped me deal with the emotions stirred up by the Newtown shooting.

I’m blogging now because a highly vivid dream that involved getting stung by a bumblebee (why this dream, especially in January?!) left me unable to get back to sleep. Everyone else is still asleep, which is a nice time to get a few things done.

I have to start getting back into work mode. Today the kids and I will probably run up to campus so that I can grab the books I’ll be teaching from this semester, and I’ll start working on syllabi tonight or tomorrow. My first-year writing syllabi will only need some minor updates, though I do think I’m going to change one assignment; haven’t completely decided on that yet. I am using a different book in my literacy studies course, so I will have to make some significant changes there. Still though, I don’t think it will take all that long to revise the syllabi for these courses. I want to have them all done by Sunday so that when the kids go back to school on Monday, I can use that time to focus on my research.

People are starting to stir, so I had better go. I’ll be blogging more as I start to get back in a work routine over the next few days.

 

Things That Are Making Me Angry

19 Dec

1. The shooting itself. With each day, I get angrier and angrier. Something has to change. We cannot allow these tragedies to continue any longer, and we have to change our culture to make sure they don’t.

2. So-called Christians who say the Newtown massacre was due to one of the following:

A. “removing God from our schools.”

B. “God being a gentleman” who “is not going to go where he is not wanted.”

C. Gay marriage and abortion

D. Jon Stewart

E. some combination of the above, plus gun control

3. Scam artists preying on the families of the dead.

4. “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother,” for all the reasons articulated here and here, but most of all, here.

5. All the people on Facebook who keep re-posting “I am Adam Lanza’s Mother” while raving about how “brave” and “honest” this woman is. I get that she feels isolated and alone, but her need to talk about these problems does NOT outweigh her son’s needs and rights, especially given the timing of her post. The place for her to work through these issues was in therapy, not in a piece of writing republished under her own name.

As I said on a friend’s wall, in what world does it help a 13 year old with normal 13 year old issues of self-consciousness and loathing, in addition to more serious issues, to publicly compare him to the perpetrator of one of the worst mass shootings in history, the day after said attack?! How in the world does that help his mental health, his life at school, his friendships, etc.? God only knows what that poor kid is thinking and feeling now, especially since his mother has now gone on a media tour–because that is really going to help him, of course.

I don’t have a problem with people blogging or Facebooking about their kids; I do it, too. But there are certain lines you do not cross, and comparing your child to a mass murderer–especially when the entire country is very freaked out about said murderer–is one of them.

I cannot believe I am in the minority on this, but among my circle of friends with children, it seems that I am.

If Not Now, When?

18 Dec

For obvious reasons, there is a lot of talk about gun control right now. My feelings about guns are very conflicted, and I am going to try to sort them out here.

In general, I am pro-gun control. I do not understand for the life of me why civilians have access to military-grade weapons. I think the manufacture and sale of semi and fully automatic weapons should be banned (to be clear: police and military should have access to these weapons–I am talking about a civilian ban). Things like hollow point bullets, bullets that can pierce body armor, and high-capacity magazines should also be banned. I think these items should only be manufactured for sale to the military and the police; the fines for manufacturing and selling to civilians should be high enough that violators would be put out of business very quickly. If civilians are found to possess these weapons or ammo, they should face steep fines and jail time.

I do not think all firearms should be banned. I believe such bans are unconstitutional, because I do believe the second amendment guarantees the right to bear arms. I know plenty of folks with whom I share many political views would argue that I’m ignoring the first part of that sentence: “a well-regulated militia.” It is the militia (closest thing we have today would be the National Guard, I suppose) that has the right, not individuals, is how that logic usually goes.

I disagree. I think the government has the responsibility to regulate the right to bear arms, just as the government regulates the first amendment (can’t yell fire in a crowded movie theatre, can’t slander or libel, can’t use obscene language or show nudity on regular TV, etc). But I do think there is an individual right to bear arms. Sometimes I wish there wasn’t; that would make these questions must easier. As much as I may not like it, I don’t think we can simply ignore the phrase “the right to bear arms.”

As I said above, however, I do not think that right is absolute. I think the government can and should regulate firearms (i.e., gun control). I see this as no different from FCC guidelines for television programming, slander/libel laws, etc. Freedom of speech doesn’t mean you can hurt others by using your words to incite a riot or by printing lies about them in a newspaper. If we regulate speech in order to protect public safety, then we can sure as hell regulate the right to bear arms and ban weapons that are designed to kill many people in seconds.

While the Constitution represents the biggest reason why I do not agree with an outright ban on guns, there are others. As long-time readers know, my parents grew up in northeastern Kentucky, and my grandparents and multiple aunts, uncles, and cousins lived there (and still live there). Both of my grandpas owned shotguns, as did most, if not all, of my uncles. They did not own these guns “just because” or for hunting; I can’t remember for sure if any of my uncles hunted, but I know my grandpas did not. They owned a gun for protection.

I know people who roll their eyes at the notion of owning a gun “for protection” and who claim that it is just an excuse people make. It has not escaped my attention that the people I know who make these arguments do not live in an isolated, rural area. The people who dismiss the “for protection” rationale tend to live in urban areas or in small towns that may feel rural, but aren’t isolated.

Where my family is from is a different world. If someone had broken into my maternal grandparents’ house, they would have been dead long before any police would have gotten there. The police station was at least 30-45 minutes away, and that’s in good weather. If it was snowy, forget it. They wouldn’t be able to get through the mountains; it’s not like there were snow plows going up and down. There was a neighbor across the road, but they never would have heard any screams or commotion; walking down the hill from grandma’s house, across the road, and up their hill was probably a fourth of a mile. The next nearest neighbor was at least half a mile away; Grandpa had about 50 acres.

Then there were the non-human threats, which were abundant; they were definitely the biggest worry. When Grandpa went up the holler to dig up potatoes, pick green beans, or cut tobacco, he took his shotgun. The most common threat was rattlesnakes–I know he and my uncles had seen and killed rattlers up there–but mountain lions were known to be in their county, and there were unverified sightings of bears. I cannot remember if my relatives ever saw a mountain lion up the holler or not, but those animals were around. My relatives would have been foolish not to have a gun by their sides when they worked in the fields up the holler, which was about half a mile from the house.

There were other snakes around, too. My mother was almost bitten by a copperhead when she was a teenager; the thing was on or near the porch, and Mom didn’t see it. Thankfully, my Uncle Red was there, saw it, and chopped off the snake’s head with an ax from the nearby woodpile. A gun would not have been better in that particular situation, but in some encounters with dangerous wildlife, an ax would not offer enough protection. In other cases, if the person was close enough to strike the animal with the ax, the animal would have already maimed or killed the human.

These realities are difficult to understand for someone who has never experienced life outside of a city or a small town. I’ve heard my fellow urban dwellers blithely assert there is never a reason to own a gun, and maybe they are right that in their lives, there isn’t. But that isn’t true in all parts of the country. It just isn’t.

My relatives were not so-called “gun nuts.” For Grandpa, his shotgun was a tool, just like his tractor or truck. It helped him do his job as a farmer. He took care of it, kept it safe, and made sure his grandkids knew it was not a toy. I never touched his gun, nor do I remember wanting to. He only ever owned shotguns, and he certainly didn’t use semi or fully automatic weapons. The gun was a tool. He only needed one truck, so why would he have needed more than one gun? That would have been his philosophy.

Because my father was a police officer, I grew up with a gun in the house–his service revolver. My dad still has it, and I still can’t tell you where it’s hidden. Again, the gun was one of my daddy’s tools for work; I would no more have touched it than I would have tried to mess around with his tools for working on cars. It did not interest me at all. That’s in addition to the fact that my dad would have eaten me alive if I had tried to find or use his gun–probably why I had no desire to get near it! As an adult, my dad has never used a gun for any reason other than work; fortunately, he never had to discharge his weapon while in service. The only time he fired his weapon was when he had to practice at the police shooting range, which he had to do regularly in order to keep his reflexes sharp.

People like my dad and other male relatives are not the problem; neither are the guns they used or their reasons for using them. There are multiple problems here–the easy availability of military-style weapons and ammunition to civilians, the pathetic mental health care system, and the way we construct men and masculinity. Something is very wrong with us culturally. We need to figure out why some young men between the ages of 16 and 24–in almost all of these cases, extremely intelligent, young, white men–are driven to commit these terrible acts. Were they truly mentally ill–as in, suffering from a psychotic break? Were they what some would call sociopaths, or what I would call evil? Were they neither mentally ill nor evil, but seriously disturbed and filled with rage? Were they angry and suicidal, deciding to take with them as many people as they could?

That is what we as a culture have to figure out: what is driving these men to these horrendous acts? What is wrong with us as a culture that we are producing young men who are capable of committing these atrocities? Until we answer these questions, these shootings will continue, and more people will die–perhaps me, perhaps you.

We are not helpless until we find answers to these questions, however. We can and should minimize the chances of these shootings by making semi and fully automatic weapons and certain types of ammo extremely difficult, if not impossible, for civilians to obtain. Assault weapons are called ASSAULT weapons for a reason–their purpose is to attack clusters of enemies. They are not needed for hunting, for fending off rattlesnakes or other critters, for recreational or sport shooting, or for protecting yourself or your family. These weapons are being used to attack groups of innocent people: college students, worshippers, movie-goers, schoolchildren. It has to stop.

I know the “guns don’t kill people, people kill people” cliché. Sure, the guns don’t just get up on their own, load themselves, walk to a school, and fire on a first-grade classroom, but no one is claiming that. What people are claiming is that these military-style weapons make it far too easy to kill and injure scores of people. Yes, the same day the Newtown children were killed, 22 children in China were stabbed. But guess what? They’re ALIVE. If this school shooter had only had access to a standard pistol and ammo, he would have used up all six of his bullets just trying to get into the school. Even if he had another pistol (or two) fully loaded, he would have had to stop and reload very shortly after entering the school. That would have provided time for more people to escape or even to attempt to rush and subdue him; there would have been more time for the police to arrive and either take him down or spook him into killing himself (as it was, he killed himself once he realized the police had arrived). Would people still have died? Probably. Would so many have died? No.

More guns (i.e., armed guards and/or teachers) are not the answer. This shooter had on body armor or a bullet-proof vest, as did the shooter in Aurora this summer. A teacher with a gun wouldn’t have been able to bring him down with a shot to the body. A shot to the head could have killed him (if he wasn’t wearing a helmet–don’t know if he was or wasn’t), but that would have required a crack shot. Further, the shooter had the advantage of surprise and a very powerful weapon. By the time the principal or a teacher would have realized what was going on, gotten their gun (because it would have to be locked up around children), and loaded it (ammo would also need to be locked up arounds kids), it would have been too late. They would have been shot as they reached for their gun, if not before.

I know people like to think that if they were in such situations and had a concealed weapon, they would leap into action and kill the shooter. I’m sorry, that is just not realistic. If an armed guard had been at the school that day, it’s likely he/she would have been the first person killed. The shooter probably would have fired through the windows of the door to take out the guard before the guard had even gotten a weapon unholstered. Again, given the weapons he was using and the element of surprise, the shooter had the advantage. I’m sorry to say it, but I know this all too well: police officers routinely get killed in similar situations. Even highly trained, skilled officers cannot always reach for their weapon and fire in time, especially if they were ambushed in the way these schools and other venues have been. I do not believe that an average civilian with a legal, concealed weapon would be able to react in time to make a difference in situations like these shootings; aside from the issues mentioned above, adrenaline is not guaranteed to work in his/her favor–shaky hands are going to struggle with handling the weapon–and crossfire would be a real danger, especially if more than one person had a concealed weapon. Soldiers are trained to kill, yet in war they regularly die from friendly fire. I don’t see how civilians who occasionally (or even regularly) go to the shooting range can be expected to outperform soldiers and police officers–all during the most frightening event of their lives, to boot.

We will never be able to prevent every potential mass shooting; I know that. But we can try by eliminating weapons made to kill scores of people in seconds. We’ll never eliminate speeding or drunk driving, yet we still have laws against them because they are acts that endanger others. It should be no different with these particular types of guns and ammo.

If there was a waiting period of weeks or even months to buy ANY gun, and if the manufacture and ownership of these particular weapons were banned, people like my relatives would still have their guns, but these attacks would be far more difficult to carry out. In some cases, these shooters may very well give up in the face of that difficulty and go ahead and kill themselves–I know how cold and callous that sounds, but quite honestly, I’d rather they kill themselves before murdering innocent people. In other cases, it would give more time for parents, school officials, or legal authorities to act and get these people in treatment or in jail before they can hurt anyone.

To answer some questions I’ve seen some anti-gun control friends pose on Facebook:

  • Connecticut had an assault weapon ban; doesn’t this prove such bans don’t work anyway? No. When such guns are readily available in other states and when the penalties for producing, selling, and owning such weapons are fairly low, they will still be easy for people to obtain. That is why we need a federal law with much tougher penalties.
  • Will some people still be able to plan and carry out such shootings? Sadly, yes. The 2011 attack in Norway proves that. But compare the frequency of such attacks in our country to counties with more restrictive gun laws; even when adjusted for population, these attacks happen more often and are deadlier in the U.S. We own far more guns per capita than any other country in the world. If more guns=more safety, then we should be the safest country in the world. But we’re not.
  • Couldn’t someone just build a bomb and kill a bunch of people that way? Yes, but that takes expertise that some of these shooters don’t have, as well as time, money for materials, and mental clarity–traits that many of these shooters either don’t have or don’t want to develop. Again, some of these guys would kill themselves before the bomb was built; bomb building is also more difficult to hide from parents or other relatives in the house. Not impossible, but difficult enough to increase the chances of being caught and turned in to the police.
  • Couldn’t somebody drive a car into a building? Sure–but how many people would have died at Sandy Hook if the shooter (I refuse to name him) had crashed his car through the font door instead of shooting his way through it? If he had crashed his car into that first grade classroom, there is a good chance at least some of the children and adults would have escaped; cars crash into houses, and inhabitants often (though certainly not always) survive with minor injuries. As we all know, he didn’t have a car; he had an assault rifle, and he killed every child and adult in that classroom with it.

The status quo is not working; something has to change. While we need to look at the deeper cultural reasons that may be behind some of these shooters’ actions, we also have to eliminate the weapons that make it so easy for them to kill so many people.

It is true that there is nothing we can do to prevent every single crime of this nature. I wish there was, but troubled people will always be with us. Evil will always be with us. We can damn well make sure these shootings don’t happen so often or with such a high body count, though.

Suffer the Little Children

17 Dec

victim collageIt was a normal Friday morning. I took the kids to school, graded for a few hours, and went to therapy. I grabbed some lunch, picked up P early from preschool “just because,” and came home and read a book to him. I needed to grade more, so P came upstairs to play while I worked. I gave myself a 5 minute Facebook break before I returned to grading.

The first thing I saw in my feed was Nels‘ status update: “These photographs of kids leaving that school shooting in Newtown are just heart-wrenching, their holding hands and screaming/crying.” My heart seized. I immediately went to CNN’s website to see what was going on.

The lunch I had just eaten almost came up.

Children younger than M, and not much older than P, dead. Pictures of wailing children–arms on each other’s shoulders, eyes closed so they wouldn’t see their classmates’ bloodied bodies–being evacuated from the school. A report that an entire class of kindergarteners–children only months older than P–had been annihilated.

I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed P, held him to me as tightly as I could, and cried. I was so glad he was home with me. I so badly wanted to drive as fast as I could to M’s school, pull her into my arms, and never let her go.

But I didn’t. I waited until the usual time to pick her up; as I waited, I checked for updates on Newtown and listened to NPR’s live stream, with the volume turned low so P couldn’t possibly hear it in his room. I very consciously did not turn on the TV; I did not want to see those images live, and I certainly didn’t want P to see or hear anything. I tried to figure out what I would tell M and what, if anything, I should say to P.

On the way to M’s school, I turned on the radio in an attempt to distract myself from thinking about the shooting. NPR was already on, and at that very moment the announcer stated there had been a shooting at an elementary school. I quickly turned down the volume all the way, but P immediately asked me, “Why was that man talking about an elementary school?”.

I went with my instincts and gave him a sanitized version of the events: “A bad man went to an elementary school in Connecticut and hurt some kids. That’s why Mama was crying before, because it’s very sad.”

“Was the school in Hartford?” (I guess he really listened when M was practicing her state capitals last month, I thought to myself.)

“No. It was in a town called Newtown. But that place is far away. We’re safe here.”

“Oh.”

He started talking about something else, and I changed the channel to a station playing Christmas music before I turned up the volume.

We got to M’s school and walked in to pick her up (as we always do on Fridays). I kept it together pretty well, but when we approached the car, I told P to get in while I talked to M for a few minutes. I had deliberately parked the car behind the school so I wouldn’t have to worry about making her feel self-conscious in front of her peers. Thus, as soon I got P in the car, I grabbed M and held her to me.

Of course, she knew something was wrong. I reassured her everyone she knew and loved was fine, and then I took the direct approach because I didn’t know what else to do. I told her a man had gone into an elementary school in Connecticut and shot and killed several children and adults. She asked, “How many?”, so I told her: 20 children, 6 adults. Her eyes became huge, and she just looked at me.

You know how people say, “I lost my innocence that day?” In that moment, I saw my daughter lose hers. I will never forget that look.

I quickly followed up by saying her school was as safe as possible, that schools have procedures in place to try to prevent shootings like these (she had never really known why they practiced lockdown drills), and that her teacher would do whatever it took to keep her and her classmates safe. Her reply was so sincere that I nearly started crying again: ”I know Mr. S would protect us if somebody tried to come in our classroom and hurt us. He’d lock the doors, turn off all the lights, and tell us to hide. But Mr. S would do anything to keep us safe.”

***

Dropping off the kids at school this morning was hard. Obviously, I know about Columbine and every horrific school shooting, and those events are frightening enough. But the thought of an adult invading my young children’s school is a new level of terror–and I use that word deliberately. I suspect some of these shooters are choosing the few remaining venues we thought of as safe (movie theaters, elementary schools) to make their acts even more terrifying.

The headmaster of M’s school emailed yesterday, and the director of the lower school emailed today. They are re-evaluating some procedures and safety plans; they have done lockdown drills before, but today they went further. M now knows where she should hide in her classroom so that she would be unseen by a shooter in the hallway. I can’t believe I even have to type those words.

Another painful moment: talking with M about what to do in such a situation. I told her to follow the plan her class has practiced; to not worry about destroying school property in an emergency (if she could escape by throwing a chair through a window and crawling out, then she should not hesitate to break that window or anything else); and if she is told to run by an adult, or if she sees a chance where she could safely run and escape, she should run as fast as she can and not stop–not even if she hears her teacher or friends get hurt. These were words I never thought I’d be saying to my nine-year-old child.

P’s preschool has changed some of their procedures. The school was already very careful, but they’ve taken some additional steps at arrival and dismissal to insure safety. The changes aren’t oppressive, and they’re subtle enough that the children wouldn’t think things changed because something was wrong. I talked with P again this morning, telling him he may hear other kids at school talking about the kids who were hurt on Friday. I told him that the man who did it was dead and couldn’t hurt anybody else, and I said again that his preschool is a safe place as I reminded him of the visible precautions the school takes. I also stressed that his teachers love him and will keep him safe. His response to all of this? “It’s okay, Mom. If a bad guy gets in, I can do karate and save everybody.”

If only.

***

Noah PoznerOf all the pictures I have seen from Newtown, this one hurts my heart the most.

This is Noah Pozner. He just turned six a few weeks ago. He was, like all of the other murdered children, a first grader at Sandy Hook.

When I look at Noah, I see a reflection of my own son. Physically, they don’t look very much alike; Noah’s hair is darker, his eyes lighter. But the tilt of the head, the shape of the face and eyebrows, the haircut, the baby teeth shown in that sweet smile, the pinchable cheeks, the small hands folded in front of him–that is when I see my son’s image.

My son, who is only 17 months younger than Noah Pozner. My son, who has struck the very same pose at the library, just as Noah did for his parents.

This picture reminds me of how vulnerable all of our children are in this insane culture; I don’t know what other word to use to describe what has been going on over the last several years. What happened in Newtown could just as easily have happened in Fort Wayne or any other community in America. When I look at this picture, I am reminded of that fact. I see all of the hope and light that was in this beautiful boy, a boy I have absolutely no connection to at all, and I weep.

I weep for the life–and the 25 other lives–that were snuffed out so cruelly.

I weep for the survivors, the families, and their unbearable, unthinkable pain.

I weep for my children and the sense of safety and security they will never know.

I weep for my country.

Holiday traditions

12 Dec

Our holiday traditions are changing this year.

For many years, our tradition has been that we open presents on Christmas morning, then we get in the car and drive to Cincinnati. This was very manageable during my grad school years, when we lived in Columbus; thanks to I-71, we could make it from our driveway to my parents in 90 minutes. We kept up this tradition after we moved to Fort Wayne, though the distance is much longer. We’re now about 200 miles away, and it takes us between 3 and 3.5 hours to get to Cincinnati (there is no direct route via the interstate).

We typically arrive in the late afternoon. The first year or two, we went to my parents’ house first, but all of my brothers and sisters and their kids had already gone home; my family celebrates Christmas in the late morning/early afternoon. In subsequent years, we went to his parents’ house first; they celebrate with a Christmas dinner around 5 p.m., so we would see everybody when we went.

As the years went on, we added another child to the mix, and our kids got older. It became more difficult to pack everything up and get out of the house on Christmas day, and to be honest, I’ve never felt like it’s all that fair to the children. They have had to open their presents and then pretty much drop them and hop in the car, where they’ll spend at least half of their waking hours. That’s not a great way to spend Christmas for anybody, but especially children who are excited about Santa and toys. G and I also came to the conclusion that the Christmas evening gathering wasn’t working all that well for us; our kids were exhausted, and the evening never went well for anybody. Last year we decided that we would no longer drive down on Christmas day; we would leave the day after Christmas. That way the kids would have time to play with their toys, and we could even have some family time that afternoon and evening–something we’ve never had.

Over the past few days, we’ve revised the plan. If we drove down on the 26th and came home on the 28th, G would miss a full week of work. That’s a problem for two reasons: one, his work is VERY busy right now, and two, he has no paid time off. This month alone we’ve spent $750 on car repairs, nearly $300 for my eye dr’s visit and contacts, and $1300 on some badly-needed flooring. We also just received a $1000 bill from our dentist. This is not the time for G to miss that much work, so now we’re just going for a weekend visit.

I have to admit, I am very happy about the change in plans. This will be the first year in many, many years (as in, at least since M was born) that I have been able to stay home during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. The thought of not having to go anywhere during that time sounds absolutely luxurious. I can stay home! Sleep in my own bed! Do fun stuff with the kiddos! While I have tons of things to accomplish over the break (Tuesday’s post is ample evidence of that), I am taking that week off so I can enjoy the time with my children. I know they will enjoy not having to share me with anybody else or with my computer, for that matter.

Still, though, I do wonder how this change will go over with some other family members; I know this is a point of contention for many families. I get that it’s hard when holiday traditions change. At the same time, though, my kids and I deserve the chance to form our own holiday traditions, too.

Making a List, Checking It Twice

10 Dec

I already know that one of my New Year’s resolutions will be to blog more, so I guess I might as well get started on that goal now.

I have a lot to do between now and the beginning of spring semester. I am worried that I’m going to lose track of these tasks or simply fail to accomplish them, so I’m going the public accountability route and will post them here.

    Christmas-related tasks:

*Go through purchases and see what, if anything, I still need to buy
*Wrap presents
*Put up tree and decorate house
*Write Christmas letter and mail cards
*Make party mix and bake

    Teaching-related tasks

*Grade W129 final papers
*Grade C517 final papers
*Submit final grades
*Prep syllabi for spring

    Research-related tasks

*Revise and resubmit CCC article
*Draft chapter for Re-Reading Appalachia
*Draft chapter description for RRA prospectus
*Write position statement for NCTE election
*Write annual report

It’s an ambitious agenda, but these tasks have to be completed. Fortunately, my break is one week longer than usual this year, so that will help me reach these goals. Onward!

The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly

9 Dec

Wow. It’s been a long time.

This semester has been topsy-turvy; some incredible highs and some awful lows. I haven’t blogged much because I’ve been too overwhelmed (both in the sense of time and emotions) to write about all of it; Eliot wrote that “April is the cruellest month,” but for my family this year, it was September. I needed some time to get past the worst of that. Now that the semester is almost over (finals start tomorrow), I’m finally in the head space where I can write. I guess I’ll use the title of this post as an outline for what’s below.

The Good:

  • M loves her new school. The curriculum is just what she needed; she’s doing fifth grade math, and the language arts curriculum is amazing. She has grown so much as a reader and a writer, and given that she was already advanced in those areas at the beginning of the year, that is really saying something. She wrote a two-page report on the pygmy marmoset; it was part of a zoo project, in which the kids also had to form a group and then as a group select a zoo animal, build a diorama, and make a presentation on the animal to the rest of the fourth grade. M’s essay was incredibly well-written, and she absolutely loved this project. She is absolutely thriving; she loves Spanish, which she has three times a week, as well as all her other “specials”–drama, strings, math lab, art, computers, science lab, gym, and religion.
  • She has made friends pretty easily, and I’ve probably heard her mention fifteen different girls by name–girls she’s played with at recess, eaten lunch with, sat next to on the bus (she’s already had multiple field trips), etc. She joined the (optional) choir, and she was invited to be part of select choir that will compete at a state choral festival this winter. As I mentioned above, she decided to take strings, so she’s learning to play the cello; she has really enjoyed it so far.  She joined the Writing Club and the Pet Helpers, who during one lunch recess a week help take care of the animals in the science lab. She’s like a little sponge, soaking up everything the school has to offer, and I love to see it. G and I are so proud of her and thrilled to see how happy she is.
  • My tenure and promotion case has received unanimously enthusiastic support so far; the case is now at the university level. As I may have mentioned before, the way the process works at IPFW is that I have to establish excellence in one area (research) and competence in the other two (teaching and service). I elected to go up on research because my department’s criteria for research are very clear, whereas the criteria for teaching excellence are more nebulous, which is true for most departments at IPFW. Further, my department has never had a successful p&t case based on teaching (a colleague is trying it this year, and things look good so far). It was a tough choice, though; teaching is an important part of my identity, and I really didn’t like having to choose between one area or another. Thus, I was really pleased that in his letter recommending tenure and promotion, my dean wrote that I had achieved excellence in both research and teaching. It means a lot to me to have my teaching recognized in that way.
  • I have been invited to give a public lecture and conduct a graduate workshop on my scholarship at my PhD alma mater, The Ohio State University, in April. I am incredibly flattered by, and unbearably nervous about, this opportunity. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this as the time approaches.
  • I was nominated to serve on the College Section Steering Committee of the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE). I have no idea how that happened, but I was deeply honored by the fact that someone recommended me to the Nominating Committee and that the Committee decided to include me on the slate of candidates. I accepted the nomination and will stand for election in the spring of 2013.

The Bad:

  • P’s recovery from surgery was very difficult. He had his tonsils and adenoids removed and ear tubes inserted on August 27, and we went through two weeks of hell afterward. For nine days post-surgery, he awoke between midnight and 12:30 a.m., screaming hysterically;  he would cry, whimper, and moan until about 6 a.m., at which point he would fall into a deep sleep–which was also when I had to wake up to get M ready and off to school. This happened every night, nine nights in a row. He also hated taking the pain medicine and antibiotics he had to take post-surgery; he had to take antibiotics due to his heart condition. It got to the point where I had to sit on top of him, pinning his arms down with my knees, so that I could give him the medicine. Day 10 post-surgery, I ended up losing it. I remember collapsing on my kitchen floor and sobbing for who knows how long; at least at that point, P was so exhausted from screaming and fighting the medicine that he fell asleep for a few minutes and I could have my breakdown in peace. The whole experience was awful.
  • During that two-week period–the second and third weeks of the semester–I taught a total of two classes. While I did get subs to teach some of the classes, I missed so much class early in the semester that I never felt like things really gelled. I know I didn’t give my students my best this term, and it upsets me.
  • At the end of those two weeks, my 84 year-old father came down with a severe urinary tract infection. Due to his age, he had symptoms not typically associated with UTIs–nausea and vomiting–and he wasn’t able to eat or drink for a few days. That left him weakened, and due to this weakness, he had a bad fall one night. Fortunately, he did not suffer any serious or permanent damage, but at the time it happened, we didn’t know that for sure. It was very scary. My dad is in great shape (looks 10 years younger than he is) and has never had any major health scares–no heart problems, no cancer, no strokes. Thus, I’ve never really had to think about his mortality; I still see him as the tough, strong city cop that he was when I was growing up, and the thought of him being unable to get up, stuck on the floor for 45 minutes, was–and is–frightening. This experience was a stark reminder that he will not live forever.
  • A mentor and friend I love very much is battling serious illness. The prognosis is good, but like everything else in life, there are no guarantees. It is difficult not to worry, and I mourn for what my friend has lost throughout the process of treatment and recovery.

The Ugly:

  • On September 10, I  made the very difficult decision to euthanize Lucky, the family dog. While he was “our” dog, in many ways he was my dog, and I have felt his loss the most deeply and intensely. During the first month after his death, I cried myself to sleep every night. I miss him terribly; I am holding back tears as I’m writing these very words. Lucky was not only my dog, but also my friend who gave me unconditional love through the greatest transitions of my life: becoming a mother, writing my dissertation, going on the job market, moving to Fort Wayne, starting my job, and preparing my tenure and promotion case. He was company for me during those sometimes-lonely days of intense reading, writing, and grading at home, and he kept me company during G’s ungodly work hours, especially this past summer. I  will never stop missing my sweet little Lucky dog.

    Lucky with M, when she was about six weeks old.

    Lucky with M, when she was about six weeks old.

That’s been my semester. I’m glad it’s over.

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