Frogs and Ravens

Kerry

I watched Kerry last night and all I can say is: wow. WOW.

Key Quiz

Eb major - you are warm and kind, always there for
your friends, who are in turn there for you.
You are content with your comfortable life and
what you are currently achieving; if you keep
in this state you will go far.


what key signature are you?
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This is comforting, I suppose.

Now I'm going to have to figure out how to play an Eflat major chord on the guitar to see if I like it.

c/o terminal degree

Hell

Is that where I'm going for wanting to watch this tonight?

Quizness

Your Element is Water. You are soft and serene at
most times but like Wind, you're scary when
you're mad. You probably have a talent for
singing and even your speaking voice is lovely.
You have an innocent type of beauty that makes
you look younger than you are and you like
close relationships with people.


What's Your Element(girls)? (PICTURES)
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I dunno about the voice and beauty part, but the first line is certainly true!

Midlife Review

I'm going through one of my angsty moments, perfect for reading a book like the one at the left. Midlife Crisis at 30: How the Stakes Have Changed for a New Generation--And What to Do about It by Lia Macko and Kerry Rubin raises the question of why so many young women (aged 25-37) are experiencing a feeling of crisis in their personal and professional lives. The authors (both journalists) clearly see themselves as the heirs of Betty Friedan, both as the children of Boomer feminists and as would-be sociologists charting the contours of their own "problem with no name."

So far I'm finding the book interesting -- the personal anecdotes of their interviewees are particularly compelling -- but slightly frustrating and depressing as well. On the one hand, it's reassuring in a vague way to know that I'm not the only person wondering why the dreams of dynamic career, marriage and two children in a house of my own have gotten derailed or have run into each other. On the other, their tendency to focus (as did Ms. Friedan) on the relatively successful middle class leaves me wondering how useful their analysis will be in terms of my own experience. Yes, it is helpful to know that my behavior to date may be the result of things like the Divorce Insurance Policy (Gen-X women, growing up in an age of parental divorce, tend to act as if they will need to be able to support themselves by themselves even if married) and the Sequential Success Trap (the belief that one must first establish oneself as a successful independent individual before looking for marriage or children). And their argument that Gen-Xers need to rethink their situation in terms of larger social and structural dynamics instead of personal failure is worth making.

Yet as I've been reading, two things have kept me from feeling fully satisfied. The first is, as mentioned, their emphasis on middle-class women, most of whom have been successful in at least one area of their life, who are beginning to hit the wall as they turn thirty. The typical person they interviewed is a young go-getter who has done well in her field but is now wondering what has happened to the rest of her life. As someone who is (a) not successful in any of these endeavors (though I do have a long-term boyfriend, more than some of these women) and (b) older than the 29-year-old angstistas, I feel out of step with their assumed audience.

This brings me to the second thing. Rubin and Macko are not interested merely in analysis; they want to offer solutions. The thing is that I'm doubtful that either the systemic or personal solutions will work for me, given their assumptions about who "I" the reader am and where I am at this stage in my life. On the systemic level, the emphasis so far (I'm only half-way through the book, so maybe this will change) is on making the workplace more flexible and tolerant of women's life choices outside of work. On the personal level, it seems to be on learning to accept that while we may indeed be able to "have it all" we can't have it all at once. Yet what of those of us for whom the issue is not a conflict between work and family, but dealing with the aftereffects of bad choices and unfortunate results in both areas? And, worse, have less time for negotiating them than our 29-year-old sisters?

Their ideas about the power of the Sequential Success Trap resonate deeply with me, but unlike most of the women they describe (such as those who've been working 80 hour weeks in pursuit of promotion after promotion), for me it's not merely a matter of one success having pushed out the others. It's about the sequences having failed entirely. Instead of wondering how to leave a successful career to find a husband and start a family, I'm back at the first step of my career, and only a few steps further along in terms of family development. Instead of realizing at 30 that if I want a family I'd better get going, I'm wondering if it's already too late.

I have two basic responses to difficulties: I either perservere stubbornly against naysayers, or I resign myself to a worst-case scenario in order to lessen the pain of anticipated disappointment. Lately, I'm finding myself defaulting more to the latter, especially in these areas. First I gave up the idea of an academic career (under duress initially, but now I can't even imagine being seen as a competitive candidate), and now I'm finding myself giving up much hope for anything more than a decently paid, not-too-boring position, let alone one that is interesting and challenging. Similarly on the family front; I'm still hopeful about marriage, but first the idea of having two children (boy and girl, ideally) spaced three or four years apart fell away, then the idea of more than one child, and now the idea of even one healthy child and a normal pregnancy is teetering on the edge. It's not that I've given up hope, it's that hope is a luxury that I'm preparing to give up in order to survive. If I expect nothing, how can I be disappointed if nothing turns out as expected?

Update: I've finished the book, which was easy to do because I ended up skimming the last half in an annoyed fashion before rolling my eyes and clapping it shut. Why? Well, the second half of the book is what passes for a "solutions" section. Or an inspiration section. Whatever -- either way it didn't work. Basically, this part of the book consists of a bunch of role models, women who were missing some part of the "All" in "Having It All" and found a way, by age 40 or 50 or so, of making it work. The thing is, I found very little about these women's lives with which I could relate, and, simultaneously, found that their "solutions" tended to take the form of narrative plots along the lines of "I looked at my situation, and found a way to persevere and create a better life for myself. Yay me!" Oh look, this woman at 30 had three children and no job, and now she's a CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Oh look, this woman at 30 had made her fortune as an artistic innovator, but had no children or husband; now she's the happy mother of two and is still charging ahead in her field. Oh look, this woman at thirty decided to leave her lucrative banking job in order windsurf professionally, and now she and her husband (who she met at a competition) are expecting their first child. (I made most of these details up, but the gist is basically true.) There are no stories of single childless women in dead-end careers here -- just stories of people who'd succeeded in at least one part of the "All" and later succeeded in the remaining parts as well, and not simply made do, but triumphed and became famous/wealthy/influential. That's not inspiring; that's a fairy tale. For all that it can happen, they forget (again) that it is not guaranteed to happen, or even likely to happen, for most women.

The upshot? For all that Rubin and Macko made an argument for banding together to institute structural change in the first half, the message one leaves with is that if one works hard (and is lucky as all get out) you can indeed "Have It All." And that achieving It All is ultimately a personal endeavor.

Recurrent Second-Guessing

Spinning another strand off Leuschke's post on pseudo/anonymity among academic bloggers, profgrrrrl writes about the factor of dress (especially for female academics) and the ramifications of one's sartorial choices. (She writes about other factors, too.)

Reading posts like that makes me realize the truth of Tim Burke's comment about grad school having an indelible effect on one's psyche, or, more to the point, the lingering effects of academic "failure." This weekend I was cheerfully flitting from one preoccupation to another -- spinning, knitting, reading about dye plants and growing flax at home, transplanting old plants and starting new ones (mint and lavender and several other herbs), ju-jitsu, yoga, animals and pets -- and thinking that work is really irrelevant in my life except as a source of income and internet access. Then I swing back to wondering about life in academia and the factors that led to my no longer having one.

As I noted at profgrrrl's, I've already second-guessed myself regarding my teaching (not inspired enough, not devoted enough, too lazy, too easily bored, sucking at lecture-writing), my research (too esoteric, not enough publications, not enough breadth, too interdisciplinary), even my voice (nasal, whiny, hyper) and body language (fidgetty, seemingly inattentive). Add dress to the mix -- unprofessional, too young, too informal, too hip, too something (I often interviewed in a light colored pant suit -- quite classy, but obviously out of place among the black skirt suits)...

The list goes on and on -- and what I think it demonstrates is the profound degree to which I've absorbed the rhetoric of self-determination. That is, I've been firmly socialized into the belief that all success or failure can be attributed ultimately to personal effort and worth. Paradoxically, given that my training and education makes it easy for me to see structural forces at work in other people's lives, grad school and academia in general serve to reinforce that belief. If your work is not up to snuff, it's no one's fault but your own. If your paper is late, it's because you didn't work hard enough or efficiently enough. If your reading of the text is at odds with your classmates' and professor's, it's because you didn't read carefully enough. And so on.

On one level, I think this sort of critical hyper-responsibility is a good thing -- if nothing else, it encourages people to think about the larger implications of their individual actions -- but personally... As much as I hate encountering the clueless and self-absorbed out in general society, I have to admit there are times when I envy them as well. What would it be like to live life blithely confident of one's abilities and success? To not give a rat's a-- about the judgements of others? Coupled with ignorance and selfishness, these are appalling traits -- but imagine if they were combined with an informed awareness of the world's complexities and compassion for others? That would be amazing indeed.

Which is seemingly a long way from the question of whether it's good to blog under one's own name in academia, but I think the connection is less tenuous than it first appears. Pseudonymity allows me to be more authentically me (albeit within self-imposed constraints) without the distorting veils of appearance and physical presence. It may well be that many academics blog pseudonymously to avoid real-life consequences of their blogging (which is indeed partly the case here); I would argue that it also offers the chance to be judged on the "content of one's character" rather than superficial things like dress, skin color, hair style, etc. At the very least, the words and ideas tend to come first, images of the poster later.

Indeed, it is this opportunity to engage with people and ideas on my own terms without the complications of personalities and appearance that drew me to academia in the first place. Shows what I knew!

Slide Show

Here, at last, are some pictures from my vacation last week.

The main reason I chose the week in question was that Oregon State University was going to be holding DaVinci Days. Since my parents live in the area, we often go to watch the festivities. In particular, we are very fond of the Kinetic Sculpture Race.

The "race" has several parts. First the sculptures (which have to be human powered) collect to be examined by the judges for their aesthetic qualities (which includes reciting a poem or singing a song about their sculpture). Showmanship is a big part of it -- teams dress up in some way to match their sculpture, and bribing the judges (usually with food) is an official part of the event. (Note: all but one of the pictures are clickable pop-ups; the race pictures are pretty big (~200k).)

Here we have Buns of Steel, Cheesy Rider, Pastry Peddler, and Sparkle.

Then there is a parade, followed by a timed road race. Here we have Time Flies, Rogue Towing, and Blaster and Commander.

Time Flies, in previous years, was a tomato. (A lot of these machines, especially the big expensive ones like Sparkle, compete every year in a variety of races. Usually they change the decor. Sparkle was a big pink dog with fleas one year.)

Music was provided by a live band seated on top of the Maltese Fulcrum. And, yes, they did all parts of the race, except for the water segment. All the songs were appropriate to the occasion. The ant (see below) was serenaded with "The Ants Go Marching" and during the mud bog, they came up with "All You Need Is Mud (Love)" and "Show Me the Way to the Next Mud Bog (Whiskey Bar)."

(Note the young woman next to them. She is riding one of the coolest unofficial kinetic machines of the day -- it has an eccentric axle and the rider powers it by bouncing up and down. So here she was gently floating up and down in her summer dress, accompanied by the band. Very very cool.)

The next day, after everyone's rested, there is the infamous Mud Bog. This is the best part of the whole thing, in my opinion.

Sticky and deep is the desired state of the mud bog.

Here we see Mute Ant, That's A Mower, Eh? (the mechanism was derived from a mower), and Sparkle again. (Other sculptures made it through with no problem, but these pictures are more fun. Note to any future competitors: avoid holes, and don't choose big smooth tires -- no traction. Also watch out for low-slung bike chains -- that's just asking for trouble!)

After the bog, competitors must then paddle five miles down a river.

This is Gourd of the Rings.

They had gourd-shaped hats and lots of attitude. At one point, while peddling past someone who sneezed, I heard them say "Gourd bless you." They also did really well in the mud bog.

Mute Ant also took time out to set a couple of records: The 50 Meter Human Powered Walking Machine Speed Record (28.6 seconds -- and it would have been even faster if it hadn't popped a chain) and the Greatest Distance in One Hour for a Human Powered Walking Machine (2.14 miles).

If a giant mechanical walking ant isn't cool, I don't know what is.

When we weren't enjoying DaVinci Days, we enjoyed the big trees, visiting local gardens, picking blueberries, and similar outdoorsy activities. Yes, that blueberry is that big. And it wasn't unsually so, relative to the others!

Inspired, I bought some herbs when I got home, to compliment the ripening tomatoes.

Freedom to Work

I hadn't thought about it this way, but this observation of Dorothea's about desirable jobs is SO true:

What I need, fundamentally, to make me happy in a job is permission to carve my own niche. Just show me the goal, wind me up, and set me down on a flat surface; I’ll take care of the rest. Employers who let me do this love me to pieces, finding that I make everyone’s life a little easier, and I love them right back, regardless of the job description. Employers who put up roadblocks in front of me lose me in a burst of hurt amazement, stricken stupefaction that anyone would want to stop me making things better.

This has a few implications, I think. I can be bound to particular outcomes, but not to particular processes. If I think a process is stupid, don’t get in my way while I fix it; I’ll resent that something fierce. By all means explain to me why the process is the way it is—new information talks me down easily out of a process snit. And by all means start me off on an existing process—that’s scutwork, it’s how I learn. But don’t treat your processes as if they were the Mount Sinai tablets in front of me. I’ll break ‘em. Just watch me. And I’ll lose a lot of respect for you to boot.

I hate having to do things "The Official Way" if The Way is stupid. Hate, hate, hate it. Like Dorothea, I love having the freedom to tinker and figure out my own way of doing things. Give me a goal and a deadline and get out of my way, indeed.

Perhaps this is why I have such trouble (a) deciding what it is I want to do career-wise, and (b) convincing potential employers that they should just let me at the work and, after seeing how I do, decide whether to hire me. Substantial as my skills list has become, my real value (I believe) lies in my ability to problem-solve, innovate (gah! corporate speak!), and develop and streamline new processes. But that should be valuable anywhere. Shouldn't it?

Bulwer-Lytton

I forget who linked to this first, but here are the 2004 entries for the Bulwer-Lytton awful writing contest.

I like this one:

Gringran Roojner had only gone to see the Great Warlock of Loowith to get his horoscope and he couldn't believe he'd been sent on a quest for the legendary Scromer of Nothleen to ask him for the answer to the Riddle of Shimmererer so that he could give it to the Guardians of Vooroniank, thereby gaining access to the Cave of Zothlianath where he would find the seldom seen Cowering of Groojanc, whose spittle was an absolute necessity in the making of the Warlock's famous pound cake, the kind with raisins.

Sandra Millar
Gowkthrapple, Wishaw
Scotland

What is sad is that I've seen books in the sci-fi/fantasy section that could give this a run for its money. (Ask D. about the mole book sometime. Don't believe the glowing reviews.)

More favs:

As she pointed the car due north like a needle on a boy scout's compass to head back to the frozen wasteland from which she had come, a light rain began to drizzle down, forming hundreds--no thousands--of small cat paw prints, as though a herd of invisible felines of all sizes and ages with wet feet were jumping on the windshield, totally oblivious to the fact that the car was traveling at a speed high enough to dislodge any small animals from the front of the vehicle.

Sandie Lester
Maumelle, AR

As Amy reached for the envelope her heart fluttered in anticipation like the wings of a fruit bat that has eaten a fermented peach, and even though she knew the statistic that you are more likely to be hit by a meteorite than to win the lottery, she was still quite surprised when opening the envelope to be hit by a meteorite.

Tim Lafferty
Horsell
Woking, U.K.

Maynard Fimble was told that "you can't compare apples and oranges," but, he thought, they are both eatable, grow on trees, are about the same size, are good for you, have a peel, come in many varieties, and are approximately round in shape, thus, to his horror and guilt, he realized that he was comparing them and wondered what punishment awaited him and on whose order.

Charles Jaworski
North Pole, AK

There are many more. Enjoy!

Encouraging Thinking

This post explains why I find the idea of home-schooling appealing. That, plus I think I'd be good at it, at least on the arts and nature studies fronts. (When I'm not thinking about how tiring and messy it could be to be a full-time parent.)

Of course, being childless, these thoughts are rather moot.