I'm heading out for AWP Vancouver on Wednesday, so unless the five-minute muse strikes me when I'm there, I won't blog in until after. In the meantime, this is actually stolen from Casey's blog on NewPages. It's info and links to the incredible opening remarks we heard while at the Other Words conference in Florida. Really, if you care about literature, read what these guys had to say about it. It's incredible.
***From the NewPages Weblog***
In early March, [Casey and I] headed to Tallahassee to participate in Other Words: A Conference of Literary Magazines, Independent Publishers, and Writers. The Florida Literary Arts Coalition is planning to make Other Words an annual conference. When the opening remarks and comments were finished, we realized we had heard some amazing and important thoughts on the state of independent publishing. We asked Richard Matthews and R.M. Berry for permission to publish their comments. If you have a blog or website, please post a link to these comments. They deserve a wide readership.
Other Words by Richard Mathews. Introductory remarks, Other Words Conference. "...in the face of the myriad forces that foster mass communication, popular culture, and global media conglomerates, our coalition in support of the creation, publication, and dissemination of independent, non-commercial literary arts gains a special sense of relevance and urgency."
On Freeing Words by R.M. Berry. "Our struggle must be fought in the marketplace and the media, in private foundations, federal and regional and local arts agencies, at presses both large and small, in university English departments, at bars and bookstores, and within every writer’s soul. In the same way that no despot has ever stayed in power without the unconscious complicity of the defeated, the thoughtlessness that passes for writing today could never achieve its dominance without your and my collusion."
Monday, March 28, 2005
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Sweatshops in Your Neighborhood
I saw a great program on C-SPAN2 Book TV this morning: Jennifer Gordon speaking on the topic of sweatshops in the US. She's written the book, Suburban Sweatshops: The Fight for Immigrant Rights. She's an Associate Professor of Law at Fordham University School of Law.
She was one of the most articulate people I have heard speak in a long time, very passionate and incredibly knowledgable about the subject matter. She addresses the difficulty people have in being able to relate to the practice of sweatshops in their own neighborhoods by asserting that people still get an image of sweatshops as always being somewhere else, far away. When in fact, she points out, by definition, sweatshops are any employment situation in which workers are underpaid - citing examples of restaurants that pay dishwashers $3/hour. And, by law, that sweatshops are any place of employment in which two conditions of illegal work practices are utilized or two infractions of safe work place exist (I'm going from memory here - but I think this is close).
It was startling for me to hear this, not realizing it really took so little for an employer to be considered a sweatshop. I say so little, but realize that it would only take one infraction in my union workplace for our group to be all over the employer with grievances. Of course, the plight of undocumented workers isn't so well supported. What a luxury rights can be.
Gordon's work also includes founding the Workplace Project in 1992.
The Workplace Project, Long Island, NY
The Workplace Project is a member-based organization that grew out of the struggle of Central and South American immigrants to respond to non-payment and underpayment of wages, high rates of injury on the job, and other labor abuses. Governed by a board elected from the membership, the Project emphasizes organizing and education through its programs.
Over 370 workers have graduated from the Project's nine-week class in immigrant and labor history, labor law, and organizing techniques. Members learn to defend themselves at hearings, launch campaigns for enforcement of existing labor laws, and organize others in their workplace and community. Some graduates recently initiated their own cooperative landscaping business.
The Project won a significant legal victory with the 1997 "Unpaid Wages Prohibition Act," signed by New York Governor Pataki following lobbying efforts coordinated with the Chinese Staff and Workers' Association and the Latino Workers' Center. The law makes repeat or willful nonpayment or underpayment of wages a felony. It also levies the toughest penalty in the nation against employers owing wages, increasing fines against them by 800%. Much of the momentum behind the bill came from the Project's analysis of its 900-person database, which documented the Department of Labor's lack of attention to claims brought by low-wage workers. Only 3% of cases filed by the Project over three years had resulted in even partial payment.
The Workplace Project can be reached at 91 N. Franklin St., Suite 207, Hempstead, NY 11550-3003; 516-565-5377; email: workplace@igc.org.
[From: National Network for Immigrants and Refugee Rights]
She was one of the most articulate people I have heard speak in a long time, very passionate and incredibly knowledgable about the subject matter. She addresses the difficulty people have in being able to relate to the practice of sweatshops in their own neighborhoods by asserting that people still get an image of sweatshops as always being somewhere else, far away. When in fact, she points out, by definition, sweatshops are any employment situation in which workers are underpaid - citing examples of restaurants that pay dishwashers $3/hour. And, by law, that sweatshops are any place of employment in which two conditions of illegal work practices are utilized or two infractions of safe work place exist (I'm going from memory here - but I think this is close).
It was startling for me to hear this, not realizing it really took so little for an employer to be considered a sweatshop. I say so little, but realize that it would only take one infraction in my union workplace for our group to be all over the employer with grievances. Of course, the plight of undocumented workers isn't so well supported. What a luxury rights can be.
Gordon's work also includes founding the Workplace Project in 1992.
The Workplace Project, Long Island, NY
The Workplace Project is a member-based organization that grew out of the struggle of Central and South American immigrants to respond to non-payment and underpayment of wages, high rates of injury on the job, and other labor abuses. Governed by a board elected from the membership, the Project emphasizes organizing and education through its programs.
Over 370 workers have graduated from the Project's nine-week class in immigrant and labor history, labor law, and organizing techniques. Members learn to defend themselves at hearings, launch campaigns for enforcement of existing labor laws, and organize others in their workplace and community. Some graduates recently initiated their own cooperative landscaping business.
The Project won a significant legal victory with the 1997 "Unpaid Wages Prohibition Act," signed by New York Governor Pataki following lobbying efforts coordinated with the Chinese Staff and Workers' Association and the Latino Workers' Center. The law makes repeat or willful nonpayment or underpayment of wages a felony. It also levies the toughest penalty in the nation against employers owing wages, increasing fines against them by 800%. Much of the momentum behind the bill came from the Project's analysis of its 900-person database, which documented the Department of Labor's lack of attention to claims brought by low-wage workers. Only 3% of cases filed by the Project over three years had resulted in even partial payment.
The Workplace Project can be reached at 91 N. Franklin St., Suite 207, Hempstead, NY 11550-3003; 516-565-5377; email: workplace@igc.org.
[From: National Network for Immigrants and Refugee Rights]
Friday, March 25, 2005
The Storm Before the Calm
Why does it always seem that right before I take a few days off, all of the sudden, everyone wants my time and needs a hundred things done yesterday? It certainly does seem to make the being gone part all the better! We're now officially on spring break until next Tuesday, and after that, I'll be on my way to AWP in Vancouver! Woo-hoo!
And for that matter, the storm in the classroom regarding topic choices for argument came to a nil point. The students picked "DNA dragnets should not be allowed by law enforcement to solve crimes." As it turns out, the group decided that there wasn't as much on the issue of gay marraige outside of religious morality that they felt they could argue, so they bagged it as an issue. All that fretting for naught. Or not - ?
And for that matter, the storm in the classroom regarding topic choices for argument came to a nil point. The students picked "DNA dragnets should not be allowed by law enforcement to solve crimes." As it turns out, the group decided that there wasn't as much on the issue of gay marraige outside of religious morality that they felt they could argue, so they bagged it as an issue. All that fretting for naught. Or not - ?
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Pick a Genre, Damn It!
"My work defies genre. How can I possibly call it simply fiction or non-fiction, when it comes from the hard-lived lives of those who have come before us, those whose very existence have determined the hard-driven lines of poetic justice so poorly maladapted into the simplicity of the written word. But it is all we have, only the merest scratch on the surface of our souls..."
PFFFT! Please! Someone save me!
If there is one thing I can't stand anymore, it's this my-writing-defies-genre drivvle. Pull-ease! Get over it! Most especially when you are begging for promotional help, complaining that your work is not getting noticed by Penguin or Random House, nor put on the shelves of Barnes and Noble, and, oh, by the way, couldn't we possibly, pretty please do something about helping get the book reviewed?
Yeah, sure. Here's a start. Tell me how to list the book on the site. That's right: DEFINE YOURSELF WITH CONVENTIONAL GENRE! If you want to be recognized in this reality, then you have to play within certain parameters of the reality. If I can't list a book as fiction / non-fiction / poetry at the very least, then, promotionally speaking, we're in some serious trouble. Further than that, many books now are clearly labeled on the back as to what section a bookstore might place them for the customers to find them: Self-help; GLBT Fiction; Young Adult; Memoir; Historical Romance; etc.
Oh dear. Did you say label? How dare you label me!
Okay, then don't expect publishers to be able to promote your book. Don't expect people to be able to find your book. Don't expect reviewers to know if they want to select your book for review because they happen to prefer and have their specialties in particular GENRES for their review reading. And don't forget the Library of Congress needs to have a way of cataloging your work - you know, the Dewey Decimal System and all.
Yes, yes. I know. New genres have been created, and will continue to be created over the years, and this is what is great about literature - it continues to grow and change an recreate itself in form and function, style and, yes, genre. If this is what you hope to do, to be a part of a movement of defining a new genre (maybe the antigenre genre), then figure out what to call yourself, and do it. But, if like one of the popular bands of my college days, who preferred to label themselves "psychodelic funk fusion ska," ends up in the general "world" section at the music store or "jazz" - well, they can hardly blame the just-above-minimum-wage manager or floor lackey who simply has to find a spot for all the materials coming in.
Of course, that bargain bin starts to look pretty tempting when no other genre really seems to fit.
I'm not alone in my ranting on this. Robert Lasner, guest columnist for Moby Lives, has his own reasons for considering this same issue in his article: The Death of First Fiction. Really writers, we're all on the same side. We want to see you get published and get promoted and get read. That's the point, isn't it? Maybe after establishing yourself, gaining some clout in the field, then you can institute the change. Sometimes you can strike out, defy convention and come out on top, but those stories seem few and far between. Try it, and if it works for you, more power to you. And if not, then there will still be those of us who will be here: ready to list your book, publish it and promote it.
PFFFT! Please! Someone save me!
If there is one thing I can't stand anymore, it's this my-writing-defies-genre drivvle. Pull-ease! Get over it! Most especially when you are begging for promotional help, complaining that your work is not getting noticed by Penguin or Random House, nor put on the shelves of Barnes and Noble, and, oh, by the way, couldn't we possibly, pretty please do something about helping get the book reviewed?
Yeah, sure. Here's a start. Tell me how to list the book on the site. That's right: DEFINE YOURSELF WITH CONVENTIONAL GENRE! If you want to be recognized in this reality, then you have to play within certain parameters of the reality. If I can't list a book as fiction / non-fiction / poetry at the very least, then, promotionally speaking, we're in some serious trouble. Further than that, many books now are clearly labeled on the back as to what section a bookstore might place them for the customers to find them: Self-help; GLBT Fiction; Young Adult; Memoir; Historical Romance; etc.
Oh dear. Did you say label? How dare you label me!
Okay, then don't expect publishers to be able to promote your book. Don't expect people to be able to find your book. Don't expect reviewers to know if they want to select your book for review because they happen to prefer and have their specialties in particular GENRES for their review reading. And don't forget the Library of Congress needs to have a way of cataloging your work - you know, the Dewey Decimal System and all.
Yes, yes. I know. New genres have been created, and will continue to be created over the years, and this is what is great about literature - it continues to grow and change an recreate itself in form and function, style and, yes, genre. If this is what you hope to do, to be a part of a movement of defining a new genre (maybe the antigenre genre), then figure out what to call yourself, and do it. But, if like one of the popular bands of my college days, who preferred to label themselves "psychodelic funk fusion ska," ends up in the general "world" section at the music store or "jazz" - well, they can hardly blame the just-above-minimum-wage manager or floor lackey who simply has to find a spot for all the materials coming in.
Of course, that bargain bin starts to look pretty tempting when no other genre really seems to fit.
I'm not alone in my ranting on this. Robert Lasner, guest columnist for Moby Lives, has his own reasons for considering this same issue in his article: The Death of First Fiction. Really writers, we're all on the same side. We want to see you get published and get promoted and get read. That's the point, isn't it? Maybe after establishing yourself, gaining some clout in the field, then you can institute the change. Sometimes you can strike out, defy convention and come out on top, but those stories seem few and far between. Try it, and if it works for you, more power to you. And if not, then there will still be those of us who will be here: ready to list your book, publish it and promote it.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Too Tired to Fight Sometimes
In class with my students yesterday, they were coming up with topics for argument that they will research in groups and debate orally in class as well as write a paper. Listing topics on the board, to no surprise: "Gay marriage is degrading to our country." closely followed by another group's contribution: "Gay marriage should be legal." Clearly, we would have two sides in this argument...
I stopped including gay issues in my course content years ago. Not because I don't think it's important, but because I got tired of fighting. Ten years ago, the ignorance regarding gay issues was off the chart, even in larger, urban areas and supposedly "cool" places like Portland, Oregon (yes, gay ignorance on the west coast - hard to believe, init?). But more than any of that, which I felt I could whittle away at with basic education, I tired of the treatment students gave to one another on the issue.
To be gay is to be invisible, in many ways. And in some ways, this may be desirable to the person who is gay. But, making the object invisible makes it much easier to treat with disparity and disregard, disrespect and even downright hostility. Students do not know who among their peers is gay. None of them would dare own up to, let alone research and publicly argue, that mixed racial marriages are degrading to our country - and most especially if there were actually a student of color in my class (which is rare in our remote, rural area). But, you know what, they don't all buy this argument. They didn't grow up in a world that didn't allow mixed racial couples. Certainly, the attitude still persists, and some of them are no doubt coming from some deeply racist families, but they don't fight this one publicly.
It was just over ten years ago when I first began teaching. One of the articles we used for argument - from our textbook - took the position that women should not be allowed to fight in combat. The author researched and supported his claims and reasons - focusing on the lack of physical strength of women, the emotionality, the sexual distraction they would cause, and, ultimately, that put into a capture situation, a male soldier would break and give information if he were to have to witness his female counterpart being raped, because men have such a strong natural tendency to protect their women (as property? - because the rising dv statistics in our country have never proven otherwise).
I stopped using that particular article in my classes because I couldn't stand to hear students - male and female alike - sitting there arguing the theorized abilities, or lack thereof, of women. I couldn't tolerate the kinds of truly ignorant statements that were coming out of their mouths - about me. As a woman. How ruthless, how desensitized they had become to the human factor in their positions. But, what else had they known their whole lives - having grown up in this culture? And how much of that could I fight to change in a three-week session on argument? Not a lot.
And so I grew tired. Of this. Of gay issues in the classroom. How must it feel to be a gay student in the class while others argue your existence as a moral abomination? As less than? As inferior? No, I just don't feel I can do it.
Monday students are going to pick topics, and I can put gay marriage on the board or not. After the last elections, but maybe also because of them - and not only here, but looking at what other countries are doing (most notably Canada) - maybe it is time to give it another chance. I guess it will all depend on just how rested I feel when I walk into class...
I stopped including gay issues in my course content years ago. Not because I don't think it's important, but because I got tired of fighting. Ten years ago, the ignorance regarding gay issues was off the chart, even in larger, urban areas and supposedly "cool" places like Portland, Oregon (yes, gay ignorance on the west coast - hard to believe, init?). But more than any of that, which I felt I could whittle away at with basic education, I tired of the treatment students gave to one another on the issue.
To be gay is to be invisible, in many ways. And in some ways, this may be desirable to the person who is gay. But, making the object invisible makes it much easier to treat with disparity and disregard, disrespect and even downright hostility. Students do not know who among their peers is gay. None of them would dare own up to, let alone research and publicly argue, that mixed racial marriages are degrading to our country - and most especially if there were actually a student of color in my class (which is rare in our remote, rural area). But, you know what, they don't all buy this argument. They didn't grow up in a world that didn't allow mixed racial couples. Certainly, the attitude still persists, and some of them are no doubt coming from some deeply racist families, but they don't fight this one publicly.
It was just over ten years ago when I first began teaching. One of the articles we used for argument - from our textbook - took the position that women should not be allowed to fight in combat. The author researched and supported his claims and reasons - focusing on the lack of physical strength of women, the emotionality, the sexual distraction they would cause, and, ultimately, that put into a capture situation, a male soldier would break and give information if he were to have to witness his female counterpart being raped, because men have such a strong natural tendency to protect their women (as property? - because the rising dv statistics in our country have never proven otherwise).
I stopped using that particular article in my classes because I couldn't stand to hear students - male and female alike - sitting there arguing the theorized abilities, or lack thereof, of women. I couldn't tolerate the kinds of truly ignorant statements that were coming out of their mouths - about me. As a woman. How ruthless, how desensitized they had become to the human factor in their positions. But, what else had they known their whole lives - having grown up in this culture? And how much of that could I fight to change in a three-week session on argument? Not a lot.
And so I grew tired. Of this. Of gay issues in the classroom. How must it feel to be a gay student in the class while others argue your existence as a moral abomination? As less than? As inferior? No, I just don't feel I can do it.
Monday students are going to pick topics, and I can put gay marriage on the board or not. After the last elections, but maybe also because of them - and not only here, but looking at what other countries are doing (most notably Canada) - maybe it is time to give it another chance. I guess it will all depend on just how rested I feel when I walk into class...
Monday, March 14, 2005
Who Would Complain About a Day Off?
I'm sure you'll know the answer to this without having to read any further, but, yep, it would be me. I don't want a day off.
I know it seems hard to believe, but there are a number of reasons for this response. The first is that, somehow, during fall semester, we have no breaks other than a staff denigration - er, I mean development day and the usual holiday suspects: Labor Day (usually the second week of class: go-stop-go), and Thanksgiving Thursday and Friday. Oh, and that ever sacred first day of deer rifle season [*duelin' banjos in the background*].
But, spring semester - whoo-doggie. We get a "mid-semester" break in February, SD day in March, then a five-day "spring" break over the Easter weekend, and miscellaneous snow days (see previous post...). So, two breaks and then some. Now, add to this conference time - I'm going to two and missing a total of five days of work...and it's making me crazy!
I'm not sure where this comes from. Initially, in my youth, others connected it to the strong work ethic of my farming family background. But it was my parents who grew up on the farm, not me. Maybe it has something to do with the whole Catholic guilt thing. Funny how the guilt lingers long after the religion is gone... Even as a student in college, when free will dictated (oxymoron) that I could skip class whenever I pleased, I just couldn't do it. I was in every single possible class. I didn't "skip" unless I had a really, really good reason to do so (like being sick or having crammed a paper in the night before and being totally exhausted - even then I might just show up to sleep through class).
Now, as an instructor, I hate to miss class days. I feel an inordinate amount of guilt toward my students - that I am in some way letting them down by not being there, even though it's for good reason. I hate calling in sick, and probably never would if it weren't for my husband standing in the doorway saying, "You are not going to work today. You are too sick!" It literally takes someone else telling me before I will call in.
How do my students feel about my being gone? It's hard to tell. I think they are pleased to have a day off, but two? Three? Four? At a certain point I can sense that even they are feeling it's excessive - especially when I tell them if they miss x# of days they may be asked to drop the class.
It's also not as if I'm not working or am not responsible for some level of professional involvement when I'm away at a conference. I am. I have to be up and attending sessions - sometimes earlier than I would ever be in class - and going all day long for several days in a row. Even when teaching, I have "down time" in the day. At conferences, there is no such thing - with some having events that go well into the evening (and no, not at a bar).
Still, these are some tough feelings for me to resolve, and result in my trying to find a way to work with my students when I am away from campus all this time. Do I get a sub for classes? Do I just let them "off" for the days? Do I set up a BlackBoard system to keep in touch? At what point does my trying to compensate only further aggravate my students who will see it as nothing more than "busy work" to make up for my not being there in the first place? And at what point are they justified in their feeling they are not getting their money's worth for the class?
Next week is spring break, and immediately after that, I will be on plane to the AWP in Vancouver, CA. By then, I hope to have figured out a solution to this internal struggle. If not, I know from my last conference experience in Florida that once that plane lifts off, there's nothing more I can do about it. Time only moves forward, and so must I.
I know it seems hard to believe, but there are a number of reasons for this response. The first is that, somehow, during fall semester, we have no breaks other than a staff denigration - er, I mean development day and the usual holiday suspects: Labor Day (usually the second week of class: go-stop-go), and Thanksgiving Thursday and Friday. Oh, and that ever sacred first day of deer rifle season [*duelin' banjos in the background*].
But, spring semester - whoo-doggie. We get a "mid-semester" break in February, SD day in March, then a five-day "spring" break over the Easter weekend, and miscellaneous snow days (see previous post...). So, two breaks and then some. Now, add to this conference time - I'm going to two and missing a total of five days of work...and it's making me crazy!
I'm not sure where this comes from. Initially, in my youth, others connected it to the strong work ethic of my farming family background. But it was my parents who grew up on the farm, not me. Maybe it has something to do with the whole Catholic guilt thing. Funny how the guilt lingers long after the religion is gone... Even as a student in college, when free will dictated (oxymoron) that I could skip class whenever I pleased, I just couldn't do it. I was in every single possible class. I didn't "skip" unless I had a really, really good reason to do so (like being sick or having crammed a paper in the night before and being totally exhausted - even then I might just show up to sleep through class).
Now, as an instructor, I hate to miss class days. I feel an inordinate amount of guilt toward my students - that I am in some way letting them down by not being there, even though it's for good reason. I hate calling in sick, and probably never would if it weren't for my husband standing in the doorway saying, "You are not going to work today. You are too sick!" It literally takes someone else telling me before I will call in.
How do my students feel about my being gone? It's hard to tell. I think they are pleased to have a day off, but two? Three? Four? At a certain point I can sense that even they are feeling it's excessive - especially when I tell them if they miss x# of days they may be asked to drop the class.
It's also not as if I'm not working or am not responsible for some level of professional involvement when I'm away at a conference. I am. I have to be up and attending sessions - sometimes earlier than I would ever be in class - and going all day long for several days in a row. Even when teaching, I have "down time" in the day. At conferences, there is no such thing - with some having events that go well into the evening (and no, not at a bar).
Still, these are some tough feelings for me to resolve, and result in my trying to find a way to work with my students when I am away from campus all this time. Do I get a sub for classes? Do I just let them "off" for the days? Do I set up a BlackBoard system to keep in touch? At what point does my trying to compensate only further aggravate my students who will see it as nothing more than "busy work" to make up for my not being there in the first place? And at what point are they justified in their feeling they are not getting their money's worth for the class?
Next week is spring break, and immediately after that, I will be on plane to the AWP in Vancouver, CA. By then, I hope to have figured out a solution to this internal struggle. If not, I know from my last conference experience in Florida that once that plane lifts off, there's nothing more I can do about it. Time only moves forward, and so must I.
Sunday, March 13, 2005
The Politics of Book Reviewing
Would love to be in attendance for this:
National Book Critics Circle hosts panel discussion on book reviewing and politics on Friday, March 18th, 2005
"Art Winslow will moderate 'Ax-Grinders, Score-Settlers and Pattycake: The Politics of Reviewing, and The Reviewing of Politics,' a conversation about how American political discourse influences criticism -- what books are assigned, how they are reviewed, who reviews them, how they operate as a Doppler wave to the much faster 24-hour news cycle -- and how criticism influences political discourse in return."
National Book Critics Circle hosts panel discussion on book reviewing and politics on Friday, March 18th, 2005
"Art Winslow will moderate 'Ax-Grinders, Score-Settlers and Pattycake: The Politics of Reviewing, and The Reviewing of Politics,' a conversation about how American political discourse influences criticism -- what books are assigned, how they are reviewed, who reviews them, how they operate as a Doppler wave to the much faster 24-hour news cycle -- and how criticism influences political discourse in return."
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Meting Out Awards
With all the controversy surrounding literary contests, it is interesting to read writers' takes on the whole process. I was especially intrigued by this review with K.E. Duffin and her perspective which creates a kind of art consumption as capitalist process and product, contests as a gatekeeper for supply and demand. Check it out. It's quite a ways down the page of the review, but the rest is an interesting read as well.
An Interview with K.E. Duffin
An Interview with K.E. Duffin
Meter This
Here's a neat feature - a free site meter. You can upgrade for additional features, but I like that it's just a counter and I can go to a site and track that stats for my page. It's fairly unobstrusive (see the very bottom of my page).
Get yer own: Site Meter
Get yer own: Site Meter
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Someone Always Won't Play Nice
My mother always told me, "Life is like a box of chocolates..." - oh no, wait, that's something else...
My mother always told me, no matter where I worked, there would be people I get along with, and people I don't. That's just the way it is.
At the time, I was working retail - selling cameras, then moved into bartending, then went on to slinging tofu in a health-food veggie bakery/care, then went on to working at a domestic violence shelter, then went on to teaching part time, then full-time advising, then...hey - wait a minute... This is about when I began to realize, my mother was (is) right. I thought it was only while I was working minimum wage or barely better jobs that it would happen that way. Not true. It happens all the way through. At least, as far as I can tell right now.
I guess I thought that once I had gotten a *higher* degree and was really working in the job and field I love, for some reason things would be different - the people would be different - the relationships would be different. I mean, we're all educated professionals, right? Not children on the playground fighting over sandbox turf.
Before I got my FIRST full-time teaching job, I had always looked with envy upon the full-time faculty, watched them at meetings as they joked around with their peers, made plans to organize events and oversee projects, heard them invite one another to drinks, dinner, parties... I thought, "That's the way I want to be. That's how it must be when you get *there*." The ever mysterious *there* that is never where you are, but is still out there somewhere, achievable, no doubt, by anyone except yourself.
And do I have this now? Now that after ten years of searching I have that elusive full-time teaching job? Yes. I do have what I saw there. I have GREAT colleagues who are supportive, who are understanding, who listen, who count on me to listen, who share, who commiserate... Yes. I have this. But, I also have what I thought I would some day outgrow - I have those colleagues who seem to exist only to make others' lives miserable, who, no matter what you do, they are never satisfied, who are not happy unless they are unhappy, who cycle in and out of psychosis and psychological states that - if all alone on a desert island they would be okay - but they're not. They're my colleagues. And so, I have to find a way to deal, to adapt, to get along, to suffer - silently or out loud - and to just get through the day. Remembering, as best I can, what my mother told me: After all, it is just a job. Don't make it your life. And know when to walk away.
My mother always told me, no matter where I worked, there would be people I get along with, and people I don't. That's just the way it is.
At the time, I was working retail - selling cameras, then moved into bartending, then went on to slinging tofu in a health-food veggie bakery/care, then went on to working at a domestic violence shelter, then went on to teaching part time, then full-time advising, then...hey - wait a minute... This is about when I began to realize, my mother was (is) right. I thought it was only while I was working minimum wage or barely better jobs that it would happen that way. Not true. It happens all the way through. At least, as far as I can tell right now.
I guess I thought that once I had gotten a *higher* degree and was really working in the job and field I love, for some reason things would be different - the people would be different - the relationships would be different. I mean, we're all educated professionals, right? Not children on the playground fighting over sandbox turf.
Before I got my FIRST full-time teaching job, I had always looked with envy upon the full-time faculty, watched them at meetings as they joked around with their peers, made plans to organize events and oversee projects, heard them invite one another to drinks, dinner, parties... I thought, "That's the way I want to be. That's how it must be when you get *there*." The ever mysterious *there* that is never where you are, but is still out there somewhere, achievable, no doubt, by anyone except yourself.
And do I have this now? Now that after ten years of searching I have that elusive full-time teaching job? Yes. I do have what I saw there. I have GREAT colleagues who are supportive, who are understanding, who listen, who count on me to listen, who share, who commiserate... Yes. I have this. But, I also have what I thought I would some day outgrow - I have those colleagues who seem to exist only to make others' lives miserable, who, no matter what you do, they are never satisfied, who are not happy unless they are unhappy, who cycle in and out of psychosis and psychological states that - if all alone on a desert island they would be okay - but they're not. They're my colleagues. And so, I have to find a way to deal, to adapt, to get along, to suffer - silently or out loud - and to just get through the day. Remembering, as best I can, what my mother told me: After all, it is just a job. Don't make it your life. And know when to walk away.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Back Just in Time
"Other Words" - the first annual conference of the Florida Literary Arts Council (yes, FLAC) - was a tremendous experience. It was exhilarating and humbling, as any good intellectual venture should be (IMHO).
I was able to meet many individuals whom I had only known by name via the web before, but knew them nonetheless. I was able to re-meet some folks I had initially met in Chicago at last year's AWP - but what a zoo that is, and how can anyone remember anyone except to meet them again. And I met new people - how else could our paths have ever crossed had it not been for this event? Now, I consider it a lucky thing, though they may think otherwise!
The greatest experience for me was the afternoon keynote speakers, whose works I hope will be posted very soon on NewPages web site (I will link ASAP). While keynotes generally bore me to doodles, these were amazing. The ideas, the concepts, the thought processes and the visions that were portrayed through these words opened my very heart and soul to a new light, and helped some of those floundering thoughts that have been swimming alone on their own come to a strong sense of connectivity. It really was revelatory for me, and set the tone for the whole weekend.
The sessions I attended were packed, which is good, and I was able to share in exchanges and garner new ideas from the topics. The sessions we gave were well-enough attended, and I learned a great deal in a short period about how to be a better panel member, and how to better prepare for the unexpected. I felt it was a good experience all the way around, but I know when/if I were to do it again, I could and would expect myself to do better.
On the plane ride home last night, after 12 hours in transit, thinking back over the weekend and forward to the reality of my day-to-day teaching job ahead, I felt a twinge of excitement. I was honestly looking forward to going back into the classroom. There was nothing in particular over the weekend that related directly to what I was currently doing in class, and that may be why, suddenly, I felt a charge - a kind of renewal, intellectually, personally, spiritually - I felt recharged, having spent four days doing anything but teaching undergraduate composition students, and, honestly, it felt great. I ventured out, I feed another part of myself that needed the attention, and as a result, felt I was coming back with a renewed interest in my work. Wow. Now that's one I didn't count on coming over me!
And today, I am exhausted. After four days of walking for miles every day, back and forth, sitting in the warm sunshine, talking with other book lovers, writers, teachers and students, listening to speakers and poets, dinner conversation over many glasses of beer and wine until 3am - because, as Casey said, "You can sleep later" - I feel we have returned just in time to capture this experience, to take it forward in our own lives and to build on it. That's my plan anyway. Right after I take a nap...
I was able to meet many individuals whom I had only known by name via the web before, but knew them nonetheless. I was able to re-meet some folks I had initially met in Chicago at last year's AWP - but what a zoo that is, and how can anyone remember anyone except to meet them again. And I met new people - how else could our paths have ever crossed had it not been for this event? Now, I consider it a lucky thing, though they may think otherwise!
The greatest experience for me was the afternoon keynote speakers, whose works I hope will be posted very soon on NewPages web site (I will link ASAP). While keynotes generally bore me to doodles, these were amazing. The ideas, the concepts, the thought processes and the visions that were portrayed through these words opened my very heart and soul to a new light, and helped some of those floundering thoughts that have been swimming alone on their own come to a strong sense of connectivity. It really was revelatory for me, and set the tone for the whole weekend.
The sessions I attended were packed, which is good, and I was able to share in exchanges and garner new ideas from the topics. The sessions we gave were well-enough attended, and I learned a great deal in a short period about how to be a better panel member, and how to better prepare for the unexpected. I felt it was a good experience all the way around, but I know when/if I were to do it again, I could and would expect myself to do better.
On the plane ride home last night, after 12 hours in transit, thinking back over the weekend and forward to the reality of my day-to-day teaching job ahead, I felt a twinge of excitement. I was honestly looking forward to going back into the classroom. There was nothing in particular over the weekend that related directly to what I was currently doing in class, and that may be why, suddenly, I felt a charge - a kind of renewal, intellectually, personally, spiritually - I felt recharged, having spent four days doing anything but teaching undergraduate composition students, and, honestly, it felt great. I ventured out, I feed another part of myself that needed the attention, and as a result, felt I was coming back with a renewed interest in my work. Wow. Now that's one I didn't count on coming over me!
And today, I am exhausted. After four days of walking for miles every day, back and forth, sitting in the warm sunshine, talking with other book lovers, writers, teachers and students, listening to speakers and poets, dinner conversation over many glasses of beer and wine until 3am - because, as Casey said, "You can sleep later" - I feel we have returned just in time to capture this experience, to take it forward in our own lives and to build on it. That's my plan anyway. Right after I take a nap...
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Snow Bird
I've never been a snow bird
I never thought I'd be one
But pay my way to Florida
And...and...I'm on the first plane out of here tomorrow morning!
Going to Other Words: A Conference of Literary Magazines, Independent Publishers and Writers in Tallahassee, Florida.
Check out details at:
www.anhinga.org/pdf/FLACe-mailer_1004-2.pdf
I'll be speaking on a panel for review writing as well as one on publishing online. I'm excited to be asked to speak - this is the first time ever! I'll be sure to post my experience here as well as share cool info I learn.
Woo-hoo! Florida in the dead middle of winter! Who needs snow days?!
I never thought I'd be one
But pay my way to Florida
And...and...I'm on the first plane out of here tomorrow morning!
Going to Other Words: A Conference of Literary Magazines, Independent Publishers and Writers in Tallahassee, Florida.
Check out details at:
www.anhinga.org/pdf/FLACe-mailer_1004-2.pdf
I'll be speaking on a panel for review writing as well as one on publishing online. I'm excited to be asked to speak - this is the first time ever! I'll be sure to post my experience here as well as share cool info I learn.
Woo-hoo! Florida in the dead middle of winter! Who needs snow days?!
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Snow Daze
When I was a kid, I used to look forward to snow days in winter. Who didn't? My gosh, a whole day, all to yourself with no school, to go play in the yard, build snowmen, go sledding then sit inside and drink hot chocolate and read a book. Mmmmmm...
Now, as a teacher, I have mixed feelings about snow days. I hate to miss a day of school - lest my students "get behind" - behind what, of course is the real question. Sure, I would love a "day off" from work. But that day off, as rare as they come in college, is usually spent catching up on papers and homework that I would otherwise be spending my weekend time or evenings completing. Or, it's spent doing all those household chores that tend to get conveniently ignored with 12-hour teaching days as an "excuse" - including cleaning the cat box, scrubbing the tub, clearing the inch of dust off the television and REALLY mopping the floor - not just using one of those Swiffer deals.
And of course, for overachievers such as myself, there's all the Suzie-homemaker goals to achieve - baking cookings, creating a new and exciting dinner entree, and whipping up some exotic chocolate dessert with a name that can't be pronounced without sounding completely stupid to those speakers of the native tongue.
But this time, I feel different. As I watch the snow come down tonight, and the winds gust, and the college having closed early today, I know exactly where I'll be tomorrow should a snow day be called - 1) sleeping in until *heaven forbid* 8:00am; 2) drinking coffee and writing at my table while looking out over the snow-drifted lawn; 3) on the couch reading one of the many novels I have started and have yet to finish; 4)napping by 2pm; 5) maybe a light workout by 5pm; 6) microwave dinners by 7pm, assuming my husband has braved the roads to go out and get a bottle of wine. If not, then it's beer and nachos.
Ahhh...snow days...
Now, as a teacher, I have mixed feelings about snow days. I hate to miss a day of school - lest my students "get behind" - behind what, of course is the real question. Sure, I would love a "day off" from work. But that day off, as rare as they come in college, is usually spent catching up on papers and homework that I would otherwise be spending my weekend time or evenings completing. Or, it's spent doing all those household chores that tend to get conveniently ignored with 12-hour teaching days as an "excuse" - including cleaning the cat box, scrubbing the tub, clearing the inch of dust off the television and REALLY mopping the floor - not just using one of those Swiffer deals.
And of course, for overachievers such as myself, there's all the Suzie-homemaker goals to achieve - baking cookings, creating a new and exciting dinner entree, and whipping up some exotic chocolate dessert with a name that can't be pronounced without sounding completely stupid to those speakers of the native tongue.
But this time, I feel different. As I watch the snow come down tonight, and the winds gust, and the college having closed early today, I know exactly where I'll be tomorrow should a snow day be called - 1) sleeping in until *heaven forbid* 8:00am; 2) drinking coffee and writing at my table while looking out over the snow-drifted lawn; 3) on the couch reading one of the many novels I have started and have yet to finish; 4)napping by 2pm; 5) maybe a light workout by 5pm; 6) microwave dinners by 7pm, assuming my husband has braved the roads to go out and get a bottle of wine. If not, then it's beer and nachos.
Ahhh...snow days...
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