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Sunday, October 31, 2004

Humor is the best medicine!


posted by bitchphd
Ok, forgive me for channelling Reader's Digest, but if you're doing job crap this year, check out these 9 interviews, which I found over at Clancy's blog. I think I know some of those people. Or maybe I have been them. Ah, interviewing....

Saturday, October 30, 2004

Housewifery


posted by bitchphd
So Mr. B. is off for the weekend doing Important Election Stuff, and I am home with pseudonymous kid. Yesterday evening I managed to clean the entire downstairs. Today I hope to clean the upstairs. Despite my sucktastic ennui, I have to give myself credit: running an orderly house is something I am good at. I miss Mr. B. terribly, but it is sort of nice to be putting things in order so that I can live in a quietly tidy way. Am now sitting at the table, with clean linens on it, blogging, while pseudonymous kid does some nice rainy-weather beading at his table in the living room where, for once, the toys have all been put away. The kitchen is clean, except for the breakfast dishes sitting in the sink, which I am about to go load into the dishwasher. In a little bit, we will go upstairs to put away the bedroom toys and change the sheets, and then perhaps this afternoon we will bake some cookies.

Quiet tidiness and orderly domesticity is not part of Mr. B.'s skill set, I fear. I think it is the result of having grown up in a too-small house with too many kids and a mom who worked to supplement his dad's crappy professorial salary, but at the same time was old-world enough that she didn't believe that Papa the Professor should lift a finger around the house, ever, so things were always sort of chaotic. That, plus Mr. B. was his mother's favorite (oldest son syndrome), so of all the kids, he was the one who was taught the least in terms of practial skills. Anyway, he adores his mom and really values the importance of domestic labor, but for the life of me I can't get him to understand that it makes more sense to put empty wrappers, bottle caps, crumpled up fast-food receipts, and the like straight into the trash rather than leaving them to clutter the counter until you get "around" to cleaning in a few days. Just as an example, mind you.

Anyway, speaking of Mr. B.'s mom. She is so, so, so upset that he is doing this electoral stuff to try to get Kerry elected. Mr. B.'s dad, you see, was an old-school cold-war Republican. He was, in fact, from central Europe and came to the US to teach policial science at the behest of the State Department a few years after Mr. B. was born. He died only a couple of months before pseudonymous kid's birth. Mr. B.'s mom adored her husband and misses him a lot. She perceives Mr. B.'s (and all the other kids') support of Kerry as a betrayal of their dead father's legacy. It's really sad, and of course impossible to get her to see that their political convictions are part and parcel of her husband's legacy, nor will she listen to Mr. B. (who is very much his father's son, poitically) explain that his support of Kerry and opposition to Bush has everything to do with his concerns over the policy consequences of the war on Iraq, the Geneva conventions (which both he and his father had personal, as well as political, reasons to care very much about), the damage Bush has done to alliances in Europe, and all that high-minded geopolitical stuff that was his dad's bread and butter. In short, his dad was an old-school conservative, and it's hard to imagine him not being horrified by the Bush administration.

So the other day when he was telling her what he was going to be doing this weekend, she hung up on him. And she hasn't called back since, not even to make sure he arrived safely and isn't lying dead in a ditch somewhere. (I'm sort of relieved about this last part, actually, because those calls annoy me, but it is uncharacteristic of her.)

I can't decide which feeling predominates: empathy for her obvious distress, irritation, or amusement.

Friday, October 29, 2004

I heart Fafblog!


posted by bitchphd
Sums up the bullshit rationalizations about vote suppression:

"Do we really want the participation of voters who are easily intimidated from voting by the mere assignment of felon status? ... Only if we live in a society that sees democracy as a good in and of itself"

Just call me a frenzied liberal democracy fetishist, please.

Friday's political links


posted by bitchphd
1. Linktasticness from Salon: What did you do during the Great Election of '04?. Tons and tons and tons of links to help people get out and poll watch, or phone, or whatever you can do to get the damn vote out next week.

2. Also from Salon: GOP analysis shows minority turnout is key to this election. They'd be stupid not to try to suppress it. They'd be venal to try.

3. Election Day Project: lawyers at Seattle University will be taking statements on election day, in case of election fraud or voter intimidation.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Li'l scared


posted by bitchphd
Ok, I think I am going to have to admit that I'm getting kind of depressed, and that the weather is probably the cause, since I felt really shitty last winter too, and that I need to try to find a decent shrink in tinytown. The up side is, I feel justified looking for another job: it's not just a question of "preference," this place literally makes me sick. The down side is, I need to keep my shit together well enough to teach, write, and find a new job. Today was not promising in that respect.

It's funny. Funny strange, not funny ha-ha. I'm not real experienced with this depression shit (in myself). Makes me feel sort of panicked, the prospect of staying here for several months of crappy weather. Makes me feel incredibly angry and bitchy, because I sort of refuse to be depressed and I'm fighting it (as a friend pointed out on chat tonight, when I was venting at him about how I "don't have time for this shit"). Makes me act like a royal bitch, which is of course lots and lots of fun at home.

Who knows, maybe blogging about my mom is not helping because of course I'm having that crappy "oh great, now I'm turning into my bitchy depressed mom" feeling that we all love so much. I really do not want to be The Depressed Person. I fear I'm not quite as good a writer as David Foster Wallace, and I shan't be able to turn it into anything amusingly bitter or bitterly amusing. Watch for me to become dull and self-pitying; feel free to indulge in shadenfreude if you've been predicting that my hubristic fucking around (of both the literal and metaphorical variety) can only result in tragedy.

I may just have to start watching a lot of old Marilyn Monroe flicks and eating chocolate and popcorn. There's a remote possibility that Diamonds are, in fact, a Girl's Best Friend, and healthy regular doses of fluffy cotton candy might pull me through.

Ah, the joys of the service course


posted by bitchphd
I am in the shittiest mood today. I hate the world. (And yes, the sun is out, so it isn't that. But I WANT A CIGARETTE so bad.)

Anyway. Fine frame of mind to be in to discuss book orders for a service course that I got assigned to at the last minute, isn't it? Now. Before I begin bitching and moaning, let me say that I actually am perfectly okay with the idea of standardized courses, I like teaching intro-level stuff, I'm actually kind of conservative in the "students must be taught the basics" kind of way. I'm perfectly happy to teach with other people's syllabi and I don't have to feel absolute ownership of a course in order to do my best with it. I'm thrilled half to death to have been assigned the course late, so that I didn't have to attend the interminable meetings hashing out what the standards were going to be.

However. If, when you are telling me that *the* introductory-level course--the only prerequisite students are required to take, mind you--is, because of the way the curriculum is structured, supposed to teach not only the basic skills and knowledge that are required for the discipline, but *also* the history of the discipline, *and* the various factions within the discipline, *and* the different schools of thought and subdisciplines, *and* a set of fifty different "key" terms,--if, I say, you are asking me to do all that in one semester, and I say something along the lines of, "ok, so basically in those meetings I missed what happened is that it was decided that this course needed to be all things to all people," do NOT try to manage me and make me the happy camper on board and convince me that no, there were no compromises made, it's the perfect course and our curriculum is flawless and lalalala perfect world.

I'm willing to be a team player. I will do what needs to be done, but I do reserve the right to exercise my own judgment in thinking that this course is trying to do too much, that my own pedagocial skills are better suited to certain parts of it than others, that some of the decisions that are being made will inevitably result in rather shallow coverage of important issues, that maybe in a perfect world we might have two, not one, intro-level required course for our majors. It really is okay for me to say and think these things. I'm not going to start bitching and moaning and being the departmental malcontent, just because I have certain reservations.

God. I'm so fine with having to make compromises, and with things being less than perfect. It really is okay, I realize nothing is perfect. Please, for heaven's sake, just relax and realize that a little bit of dissent is not going to bring the whole structure crashing down around your ears.

And for fuck's sake, go ahead and tell me what to do, but don't try to boss how I feel about it. Thank you.

Thursday's other political link


posted by bitchphd
Just in case you hadn't seen it already: Fla. County Says Absentee Ballots Missing.

Notice it's not just any Florida county--it's Broward County, where Gore won by the biggest margin in 2000.

People whose ballots weren't delivered can request another via overnight mail. If, that is, they know about it and get around to requesting a second ballot. Because, you know, you *can* vote--it's just that they're going to make it really, really, really onerous to do so. But only if you're likely to vote Democratic. 14th amendment? What's that?

Oh, and the county blames the USPS. Yeah, right.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Thursday's political links


posted by bitchphd
1. A new page is up at Get Your War On.

2. Apparently Salon is skeptical about the BBC voting fraud story I posted yesterday. They do, however, post to three other stories on actual or threatened Republican election fraud.

Wednesday's political link


posted by bitchphd
I almost didn't do one today, but then I came across this, here--more evidence of Republican intent to suppress voting:

"A secret document obtained from inside Bush campaign headquarters in Florida suggests a plan - possibly in violation of US law - to disrupt voting in the state's African-American voting districts.

Now, I've seen people bitching about this story, too. Let me point out that the difference is that the latter story involves one situation in which a woman paid to register voters apparently, of her own initiative, bribed someone with crack. In contrast, the stories of Republican voter fraud--the one posted here, and others I've posted before--indicate that the party itself is condoning and encouraging suppressing voters.

Both are obnoxious. However, there is a difference between isolated instances of cheating by individuals without real political power, and what appears to be a clear plan to undermine the democratic process by one of the two major political parties.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

The story of my mother


posted by bitchphd
So much interest in the crazy moms thing. This will be a tough post to write, because I want to end by including an email exchange I had with my mom when I finished my PhD, and having just re-read the exchange, my god. I kept it even though it's painful to read in order to remind myself, when I start wondering if it's me or her, that really it is mostly her.

A series of impressions, admittedly partial, admittedly incomplete, but what I have:

1. Mom was the fifth of five kids in a very bright, very poorly-educated farming family. She was the first girl in her family to finish college. Grandpa had an 8th grade education, Grandma was very proud of having graduated high school. From what I can tell, Gma was a depressive, too, who really resented the life of a farmer's wife. Gpa is still alive, and has always struck me as a fundamentally cheerful person. My mother loves him and has always been "daddy's girl" (she still calls him daddy, which squees me out a little bit), and has always hated and resented her own mother. When her mother was dying, my mom thought she was "faking" and refused to go back to see her. I can't remember if she went to the funeral or not.

2. My mom married my dad, according to her (and as shall be seen, she is a very unreliable witness to her own life), on a whim, and because she didn't want to go back to her parents' house. She was 18. She had wanted to go to a college a long way from home, but her parents wouldn't let her leave the state. When her women's college found out she'd gotten married, she was kicked out--again, according to her. When I was born, she was working at Sears, and my dad was a mail carrier.

3. My mom's family all have huge chips on their shoulders about being much, much smarter than anyone else around them. They are the kind of people who convey utter disdain for the "idiots" in their lives. Mom, I think, has always resented my dad for his lack of ambition: his father was a doctor, and his grandfather before him, and his sister and brother both have Ph.D.s, and I kind of suspect Mom married him in part b/c she wanted to see herself as part of that world. Dad, however, has sort of moved "down" the social ladder, which I think really pisses Mom off (the story of my Dad, perhaps, another time--it's kind of crazy too).

4. Mom went back to college after her kids were born, and got a teaching credential. Then my dad did the same. I remember her telling me how much she resented him for having done that, for "copying" her, for "competing" with her. She taught in a subject very closely related to the one I did my Ph.D. in. Dad taught (and still teaches) elementary school.

5. My most vivid memory of high school is this: after school, I'd go home and sit in my mother's bedroom on the couch. She would smoke and drink coffee. When she wanted more coffee, I would go make it (sometimes, if she was on the phone, she'd literally snap her fingers for me to fetch coffee and/or cigarettes). I would listen to her talk about how much she hated my father (who slept in the den) and how much she wanted a divorce but how she could never afford it. I would beg her to get a divorce, b/c she said it would make her happier, but she had a series of excuses for why she couldn't do that. Once I came home from school to find her in utter agony. She thought she was dying. I joked with her about being a drama queen, literally carried her to the car, and took her to the hospital, where she was diagnosed with kidney stones.

6. Here's the "unreliable witness" part: one month after I left for college, she called and told me she'd "finallly kicked my dad out of the house." I was so pleased. But for years and years I thought, "Wow. When I left, she finally did it. I was enabling her all that time."

7. Two things about my sister. First: I was Mom's favorite, my sister, Dad's. Mom was, in retrospect, incredibly emotionally abusive towards my sister. I was mostly invisible to my father. Sister did a ton of drugs and got in a lot of trouble. I was the "good girl." Second, my sister told me about five years ago that what actually happened when I left for college was this: Mom turned to her for emotional support, and suddenly sis was the person who heard all about how miserable mom was, how much she hated Dad, and so on. Sister, not being as well trained in my mother's insanity as I was, went to my Dad and said, "Dad, Mom really wants a divorce, and I would be a lot happier if you guys didn't live together." Dad moved out the next day.

8. A few years after the divorce, Mom met an older woman friend of mine at my wedding, and they became friends. They moved to Eastern Europe together to teach, which they did for a year. Then mom came home, just as I was starting graduate school. She "couldn't bear" to move back to our home town, so she moved in with me. Mr. B. was a long way away, unable to transfer his job to where my Ph.D. program was. On moving in with me, Mom went into a depression and refused to leave the house or find a job or do anything but sit and smoke in the living room, and drink coffee. After begging, bargaining, shouting, all of it, Mr. B. called and told her that she had to move the fuck out because I could not do my Ph.D. under those conditions, and that if she refused he was getting on the next plane out and helping me find a new place and move instead. I loaned her $1500 off my credit card to pay first/last/deposit, money which she didn't pay back for years, and when she did she accused me of being greedy because I asked her to pay back the interest too (which she never did).

9. When I failed my qualifying exams, my Dad told me that Mom had told him it was "no big deal, because I could just take them again."

10. Mom called me on the night before my retake, in tears, saying that she was going to end up homeless because she'd been out of work again and was completely out of money and hadn't paid rent in months. She does this: gets depressed/loses a job (I'm never clear on the causality), goes without working for months (won't ever tell me what she's living on, as it's "none of my business"), then at some point gets work again, usually shortly after things reach a crisis point. She also refuses to get therapy. It's completely unclear to me whether this recurring pattern means she's more depressed than she admits to, or less--since she does always seem to pull herself out of it when it gets to a breaking point. Slowly, slowly, over the years, I've come to the realization that I can't know, and it isn't my problem. That day was the beginning of this realization: I got off the phone, got drunk, and then did beautifully on the exam the next morning, gracias a dios.

11. When I graduated, the department had a graduation brunch. We were told we could invite "friends and family." I invited my dad, who was coming from another state with his second wife (who I'm fairly indifferent to, but she's his wife, so we get along in that adults-who-have-very-little-in-common way), my Mom, Mr. B. (who had finally gotten transferred to my city shortly after my exam fiasco), and Mr. B's sister--who also lived in the same city, who had lived with us when pseudonymous kid was born, who assisted at the labor, who was over at our house all the time, who was very very close to us. My mother objected to my Dad and his wife being invited, but I told her that with Mr. B. and sister-in-law there, that she wouldn't have to talk to him. Then the department sent out a message saying that, for budget reasons, we could only invite three people. Here is the email exchange that finally, irreversibly, convinced me that my mother--who I love, and who was in fact a very good mother when I was young, until she started falling apart when I was in high school--is crazy:

From me, to Mom and Sister-in-Law: Well, it turns out that the department actually only lets us bring 3 guests. (I told you they were on a tight budget!) Since dad and F. are coming from out of town, I'm afraid I have to retract my brunch invitation. The thing is, I'm not sure if they will count pseudonymous kid as a person or not. If they do, he'll have to stay home. So I'd like to know which you'd prefer: Mom, would you like to go to the brunch anyway (Mr. B. can stay home
with pseudonymous kid)? If not, and if pseudonymous kid can't go, would you like to have brunch with him instead and join us at the ceremony later? (But if he can go, I'm gonna take him with b/c he's cute and I like to show him off and I won't be able to see him at all during the ceremony.)

S-I-L, if pseudonymous kid can't go and my mom can't take him, would you and your boyfriend mind entertaining him that morning?


Sister-in-law promptly replied, cc'ing my mother, to say that she would be very happy to babysit pseudonymous kid so that my mother could attend the brunch. Here is the email my mother sent:

I have already been copied on the reply from s-i-l about babysitting pseudonymous kid, so I suppose that you have that handled. I have to say that I am very hurt to have F. take precedence over me. Given the series of events over the past two years, I can't say I'm surprised to have the invitation retracted. You have frequently treated me with indifference and made me feel unwelcome. We can't have a civil conversation. You find something to criticize in my behavior or my choice of topics at every opportunity. For two years I have kept my thoughts mostly to myself and kept my distance when I couldn't take the rudeness. I finally stopped waiting for you to be willing to try to work out a better relationship with me. I have made excuses for you in my own mind for your treatment of me and have accepted that your perceptions and mine of events differ. Whatever I feel, it is for me to deal with my own feelings. I am no longer interested in emotionally destructive patterns of behavior or nasty little criticisms. If you want me to be involved, then involve me in your life; if you don't, then leave me alone.

I'll back out and let your husband, father and "step mother" go to the brunch.


I called her on the phone, and pointed out that F. and Dad were coming from out of town, and I could hardly expect F. to figure out how to make it to the graduation by herself if Dad went to the brunch without her. That as Mom had always said she didn't like doing things with my father (or F., whom I have never in my life referred to as my stepmother), I thought she might not want to go, otherwise I would have simply emailed s-i-l and not her. That framing it as a choice between her and F. was completely ridiculous because I had taken pains to make it clear that if she wanted to go, Mr. B. would simply stay home with pseudonymous kid. That, in short, I was taking none of this crap and it was entirely her own decision whether or not she should attend. She claimed that I owed it to her, not my father, that I had ever gotten the Ph.D., and that the atmosphere was "far more the kind of thing she would be comfortable in than Dad and F." (So, so cringeworthy.) In the end, I did what I should have done in the first place: called the department, explained the situation, and begged to be able to bring four people, which is what happened.

12. The summer before I moved to this job, my mother came over and we went out for lunch, and ran into my lovely next-door neighbor, who was my mother's age. She asked Mom if she wasn't "sad that her daughter was moving so far away." Mom's response? "Oh no, I'm just so thrilled that my daughter can compete nation-wide for a job!"

So you begin to see some of my ambivalance over this whole Ph.D. thing. Because, of course, the real reason I have it is not because I've worked hard, or because I like my subject area, or because I like teaching. No. It's to reflect glory on my mother and prove that she coulda been a contender, if only she hadn't married that loser, my father.

I realize, I realize, that my mother is proud of me. I know that she loves me, and that she was, on balance, a very good mother--the best she could be. I also know that we are, as a culture, much, much too hard on mothers. I can see how my mother's own inabity to stop judging her mother is part of her problem. I appreciate how much she's struggled with her own background, though I can't say I admire her snobbery--even though I realize it's easy for me to say that, because the Ph.D. gives me the cultural capital I need to not be a snob like that. I can see the subtext to this narrative, the story of a woman whose own emotional baggage prevented her from pursuing her dreams, who feels like a failure, who has invested way too much of her sense of self in her oldest daughter, who doesn't really understand and is crushed by the fact that, in order to achieve what she'd been raised to do, that daughter had to stop being her mother's surrogate and become her own person. I know that my struggles to figure out how much of who I am is who I want to be, as distinct from who I was "supposed" to be, are making me distance myself from her, and that she doesn't get that, and it makes her sad. In its small way, I think my mother's story is a tragic one: not a particularly unique kind of tragedy, but a tragedy nonetheless. She's passed on to me both strengths (feminism, brains, determination, the willingness to be a bitch if needed) and weaknesses (self-doubt, anxiety, anger). For the most part, I'm doing a good job of using the strengths to successfully defeat the weaknesses in my own life, which is partly to her credit; it's too bad she hasn't been able to do the same.

I suppose in a way, this blog is all about my mother. Maybe some day I'll be able to share it with her.

Fuck yeah


posted by bitchphd
The sun is out. I slept 'til noon (and now like a stupid neurotic cunt I am kicking myself for having slept in on the one sunny day of the last two weeks, knock it off already! And just enjoy!) Must go to campus this afternoon to talk book orders with overly-conscientous (and tenured) colleague teaching other section of service course next semester. Maybe grade some papers. Work on job application letter.

But the sun is out, the sun is out! Maybe I'll be really really decadent and walk to school and try not to stress over whether that will get me to campus too late to talk to conscientious colleague. I can always see him tomorrow if I have to.

The sun is out. Fuck yeah.

Monday, October 25, 2004

Tuesday's political link and comment


posted by bitchphd
(Technically it's not Tuesday yet, but look at me going to bed before midnight for a change.)

1. I've heard rumors that people are getting calls telling them their polling site has changed, calls that are not true and are clearly designed to prevent people from voting. For what it's worth, here's a site that will help you figure out where to vote. Feel free, of course, to pass it along. Get out and Vote!

2. Re. that stupid wolf ad. I've heard a lot of people complaining that it misrepresents wolves. Surprisingly, I haven't heard (and admittedly I haven't been looking real hard, but still) anyone complaining that it's racist.

Monday's "political" link


posted by bitchphd
This really interesting blog, which I found over at Unfogged. Not political in the usual sense of the links I offer, because it's not about rhetoric or evidence or even the election, more about one person trying to think rigorously about their own political beliefs and the consequences of them. I haven't read beyond the first page myself, but it's really fascinating stuff.

Open letter to the universe


posted by bitchphd
Hey, universe, thanks for this sweet, funny, good news:

"B., I hope this is your extension it doesn't have your voice, this is C., and I had a baby, and he's a little boy and he's perfect. Um, so I wanted to tell you. Um, labor's really gnarly! Hm! I knew that, but I didn't really know it know it? So, uh, yeah, wow. But then, but then it's okay and you wanna do it again, right? I already do! Ok. Um, I'll talk to you guys soon. Ok, bye."

Oh, hey, and C. reads this blog, so if you wanna congratulate her, feel free :)

Why do I call myself a bitch?


posted by bitchphd
Well, I think we're all going to find out in the next few weeks, b/c winter is upon me and I have too much to do and I refuse to give myself or anyone else a break and so I deal with my stress by bitching. Either this will amuse my readers, or it will become extremely boring and self-indulgent. I really don't care! She says, bitchily.

Anyway, I'm at work today. Yeah, of course I am. The book orders will get done whenever the fuck I get around to it. Next weekend is Mr. B. working on election stuff, so that'll be fun, and I'm sure I'll get so much done with job apps and/or my article and/or grading the papers I just collected. Yeah, right. I'm going to do group work!!!! in my afternoon class. Group work, the salvation of the overwhelmed professor. Hurrah. And I'm crap at group work, and I don't care, and if it goes crappily I'll let them go early, so fuck that shit.

Anyway, so I'm writing to bitch about something new! My mom. She sent pseudonymous kid a halloween package and is writing to see if he's gotten it yet. Also, we almost never talk and she told Mr. B.--Mr. B., not me--that she "wishes" I would send her copies of my articles or something, b/c she doesn't really understand what I do (she used to teach highschool in my subject area), in a phone conversation where he told her I couldn't come to the phone because I was tearing my hair out doing some work shit or other. See if you can tell why she drives me crazy:

"Did pseudonymous kid get my package?  I hope you get hired at [the crappiest of the 2 jobs I've applied for] - great location and back home - yeah.  I've slept most of the day away; just can't seem to shake this virus thing.  Thanks for the attached paper.  It's good to be included in what is important to you.  I hope you can get caught up and enjoy some down time with [friend who is visting next month].  Love you, Mom"

Don't you just love that, "it's good to be included in what is important to you"? Passive voice, anyone? Implication that her exclusion is my fault, despite the fact that she asked Mr. B., not me, for copies of my work? And the whole "I'm sick" thing juxtaposed with the "gosh, I hope you get caught up on your work" thing--subtext: "I know you're busy, but I'm sick!" Ugh.

See? See what a judgmental bitch I am? Ugh.

Sunday, October 24, 2004

The winter of my discontent


posted by bitchphd
Christ, I am so fucking tired. A big part of it is the weather change, and I know that sounds absolutely fucking pathetic, but I swear to god, winters here make me feel like it is all I can do to haul my ass out of bed in the morning and what would I give not to have to do that. I'm so tempted to call in sick tomorrow, though I'm not--something I've done exactly once in ten years of teaching. In my pre-teaching days, I did it all the time, which probably means teaching is a good job for me even though right now, tonight, working on about 10 days' worth of not-enough-sleep and god-its-getting-cold-and-gray, I feel like I truly do not know if I can make it through this semester. And I've got to get that fucking article written.

The conference? Ugh. It was, as it's been before, a lovely conference. Not too big, very friendly, nice enough venue. And yet I drove up, delivered my paper rather badly (I was trying to talk it rather than read it, because I think that always makes for a much better presentation, but I was just off and ended up talking too fast and stammering a bit, ugh), listened to the other papers on the panel thinking "jesus, I just do not care about this stuff at all," had an attack of "I cannot bring myself to shmooze or be friendly to anyone" immediately following my panel, and decided to blow it off and go home. Best part of the whole thing was the fact that one of my students was there. It's always so nice to behave unprofessionally in front of people who are supposed to see you as some sort of authority figure or something. Oh well, fuck it, one can teach by bad example as well as by good, right?

My cat, who I never blog about, is going through her change-of-season too. It's cold, so she wants to sit on top of me every time I stop moving. Pseudonymous kid wants to "sleep in the big bed [i.e., with us], papa, pleeease!" I'm yelling at Mr. B. because he asked me what time it was and I answered, grumpily, "eight-fifteen," and he said, "jeez, what's wrong?" and I said, "I'M JUST TIRED, OKAY? MY VOICE IS ANGRY BECAUSE I AM JUST TIRED" (and pseudonymous kid is whining about bed time, but to my credit at least I didn't say that in front of him). Mr. B. is recovering from croup and his sinus infection and now, of course, he has diarrhea. It's ridiculous of me to be angry at him for being sick, but I am, because I never get sick and he always does, damnit, and I need him to not be sick, you know? And as usual, I'm not really prepped for tomorrow, and book orders are due, and they won't be done, damnit, especially not for the course that I haven't even bothered to think about what I'm doing with it at all, and my job apps are due in a couple of weeks (which isn't so bad, actually), and god, god, I do not want to teach tomorrow.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Sunday's political links


posted by bitchphd
1. 94 Reasons not to Vote for George W. Bush. Via La Di Da.

2. Kerry's the One, American Conservative Magazine, found over at Fables of the Reconstruction (I'm not endorsing the Hitler hyperbole in his most recent post, though; I think Mithras is getting a little punch-drunk from canvassing):

"Bush has behaved like a caricature of what a right-wing president is supposed to be, and his continuation in office will discredit any sort of conservatism for generations. The launching of an invasion against a country that posed no threat to the U.S., the doling out of war profits and concessions to politically favored corporations, the financing of the war by ballooning the deficit to be passed on to the nation’s children, the ceaseless drive to cut taxes for those outside the middle class and working poor: it is as if Bush sought to resurrect every false 1960s-era left-wing cliché about predatory imperialism and turn it into administration policy..."

Saturday's political link grab bag


posted by bitchphd
1. Why not contact the good folks at John Kerry dot com, as ogged suggests, or Move On as Mithras is doing? We at the Bitch household are doing it. They'll set you up with a free place to stay, a ride if you need it, or give you a list of calls to make if you can't travel. It's easy, and they're open this weekend. If you need inspiration, it might help to know that the GOP is planning to challenge (read: intimdate) voters at the polls. Think about who's going to be intimdated by that kind of crap (racial profiling, anyone?) and if you possibly can, go. Help.

2. Open Letter from a Soldier's Sister, which I found over at Quodlibets:

"Ryan was scheduled to complete his one-year assignment to Iraq on April 25. But on April 11, he emailed me to let me know not to expect him in Atlanta for a May visit, because his tour of duty had been involuntarily extended. "Just do me one big favor, ok?" he wrote. "Don't vote for Bush. No. Just don't do it. I would not be happy with you.""

3. Bush Relatives for Kerry. I got this from Screed. My favorite? Jeanny House, who says,

I'm voting for John Kerry because I'm a Christian. I know that my second cousin, George Bush, claims that he is the anointed leader of the American people and that God told him to run for office. I believe he may even believe that. I don't.

My Christian faith leads me to a concern for the poor and the marginalized, yet Bush's actions in office have repeatedly cut funding for health care, aid to failing schools, jobs programs, after school programs, Head Start, and many more services that provide real help and hope to those living in poverty. Under the Bush administration, over a million additional people have dropped below the poverty line.

My Christian faith leads me to a concern for the health and welfare of all of God's people, yet 45 million people in this country have no health insurance.

My Christian faith tells me the peacemakers are the blessed ones. . . . I fail to understand how lying to the people of the United States about any of the many justifications they have used for going to war in Iraq can be considered in any way, shape, or form a remotely Christian activity. . . ."

Friday, October 22, 2004

Friday's political links


posted by bitchphd
You thought I'd forgotten? Hell no. Today we have a reprise of the "if you like women or are one, how can you possibly vote for Bush?" theme.

1. The real link is this: Breast Cancer survivors for Kerry, courtesy of Cleis at Sappho's Breathing. "A search at Kerry's campaign site yields a number of pages mentioning breast cancer; Kerry pledges to increase funding for breast and cervical cancer research. A search at Bush's site yields nothing."

2. And in support of the theme, if anyone missed it, I crassly recall you to my own #s 1 and 2 of 16 October.

If you don't already read One Good Thing, what the fuck are you doing reading my blog?


posted by bitchphd
Go read this right this second. You will fall in love.

A sample: "Rick and Tiger enjoyed sneaking me into the Gentleman's club. Today, "Gentleman's Club" means strip club, but there it was an official bar/clubhouse that does not allow women to join or enter. The result of this was that just about every woman in town, myself included, had a bootleg key. At any given time there were more women in the place than men.

. . . The club was where I met Vicki. I knew about Vicki, everybody did. Vicki wasn't Old Money or New Money, Vicki was No Money. She had been a hot topic since a few years back when she'd come back from visiting her mother and found that her husband had thrown all her clothes out on the front lawn and changed the locks. Rumor had it that she had been cheating on him, a rumor Vicki would never confirm or deny. In fact, everybody mentioned the divorce but Vicki herself. After the divorce, her husband left town. Vicki got a job as a bartender and found an apartment, and moved on. Something had turned over in Vicki after the divorce, and she began living her life in a manner that horrified all the other women in town - she behaved as if she didn't give a good Goddamn what anybody else thought of her. This confirmed the opinion of town, and from then on out Vicki was the Town Tramp.

Where do I sign up?


posted by bitchphd
Mr. B. sent me this link.

"WISE will need 24 female test subjects to remain in bed, slightly tilted head down at six degrees below the horizontal, for a total of 60 days."

Mr. B.: Here, look at this
Me: OH MY GOD.
Mr. B.: Look at that picture, with the laptop
Me: I KNOW
Mr. B.: Of course you'd get bed sores and...
Me: WHO CARES?!?

Thursday, October 21, 2004

The sound of an overwhelmed academic


posted by bitchphd
I am supposed to be at a conference. I present tomorrow. My paper isn't yet written, so I am skipping the panels today and writing my paper instead, though I hope to get to the late afternoon panel, because there is someone there whose ass I want to kiss. Yesterday I had a meeting with my chair, to tell her that I will be applying for a few other jobs. She is a woman of principle, and she will not abuse me for it, but it was kind of clear she wasn't thrilled. Still, I saw no way of not telling her both because it seems shitty not to, and because I decided to ask her for a letter, given that she knows more about my actual on-job performance than my other referees. The night before last, pseudonymous kid, perhaps jazzed from his day in Big City, woke up at 2:30 all excited about Halloween coming up and basically refused to let me sleep for the rest of the night, which is another reason I'm not attending conference panels today: I need to recover a bit, still, because I was up lateish again last night trying to piece together the backbone of this paper. The conference runs over the weekend, so I won't be recovering then, and it's at Big City Research U, so I have to commute. Book orders are due Monday, I found out yesterday, and I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to teach for one of my classes next semester. The others are either repeats (thank god) or service courses, which though new, are somewhat easier to plan: pick a standard textbook and go with it. Page proofs for an article arrived yesterday and need to be turned around next week. Papers for one class will also be coming in next week. The big, exciting, innovative, I've-never-done-this-before assignment for my huge lecture course starts in two weeks, and I have no idea how I'm actually going to do it or find time to figure it out.

My dad is hassling me because I never return his calls. And the weather sucks.

I do have coffee, though. Thank god for coffee.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

My glamorous life: the warp and weft of competence and incompetence are tightly woven


posted by bitchphd
So today I got up early, b/c I needed to go to Big Research U. Yay competent professor!

Then I fucked around online all morning, and didn't get dressed and on the road. Boo, bad professor!

Then the boys woke up (they slept in late b/c Mr. B. is sick as a dog and pseudonymous kid is a late sleeper, especially if one of the grownups is still in the bed providing a warm bolster), and pseudonymous kid was happy I was still home. So I made him breakfast. Yay good mama!

Then the power went out. Boo!

Then I decided that since the power was out and Mr. B. was sick, I should take him and pseudonymous kid to Big City and park them in a heated cafe or something while I did my library stuff. Which would, of course, necessarily mean that I'd spend less time in the library than I really should. Yay good wife and mama! But boo, bad professor!

Then I thought about how the electricity would probably come on soon, and should I really drag poor sick Mr. B. to the Big City? But I kind of wanted his and pseudonymous kid's company on the drive, and their sort of imagined company while I was working, because the weather today was crappy and I didn't want to go out in it alone. Boo selfish wife and mama!

But pseudonymous kid was really excited about the idea. Yay good mama!

So we piled in the car and off we went. I had to cash a check intended to reimburse me for some dental work, because I didn't have enough money to buy gas or to pay for parking or to buy a copy card. Boo, bad spendthrift!

So off we went, we got to Big City Research U., we parked, pseudonymous kid wanted to play outside in the freezing cold, and I had to run off to the library because now it was getting very late. Which meant I had to leave poor sick Mr. B. out in the cold with pseudonymous kid. Boo, bad wife!

But Mr. B. has, along with a sinus infection, croup. And cold air is good for that. So actually that was okay.

Then I went to the library, found the material I needed, found out some other things I hadn't known before, worked very efficiently, had several brainwaves while I was reading microfilm, jotted down some notes for my conference paper. Yay brilliant and quick-thinking professor!

Then I went to the bookstore to meet Mr. B. and pseudonymous kid. I sat there for an hour and read this very interesting book, but did not buy it because I am broke, but I shall have to read it in more depth later and blog about it because it was very interesting. Yay fortuitous reading! Yay personal epiphanies!

But Mr. B. and pseudonymous kid did not show up, and I started to worry a little. Usually I abhor that kind of worry, but Mr. B. was sick. An hour later, when the bookstore finally closed, I went outside and found that they had tried to meet me in the textbook section (?!?) b/c Mr. B., on cough syrup + codeine, hadn't figured out there was a popular book section, and finally they just went and sat outside in the cold. Because I had been worried, I berated him over how silly this was. Boo, bad wife!

Then we decided to go to a pub across the street and have dinner. Yay good mama and wife! Boo, bad spendthrift!

(Brief interruption of rhythmic narrative: Mr. B. told me that pseudonymous kid had had a poop accident, and that as a result he, Mr. B., had simply wadded up pseudonymous kid's underwear and thrown it away. Then, as he was cleaning p.k's shit-smeared ass with wads of spit-moistened toilet paper [those of you who don't want kids: you're right], he tried to flush, and the accumulated t.p. caused the toilet to overflow. Mr. B. snatched up both his laptop (which he'd brought with him, and was laying on the floor while he did his parental duty) and pseudonymous kid's half-naked ass and moved to the stall at the far end of the row, where he proceeded to try to clean pseudonymous kid a bit faster, as the overflowing toilet water slowly crept across the floor towards them. Not able to move fast enough, he salvaged the situation only by building a toilet paper dyke, which luckily held the flood at bay long enough for him to finish up and skulk away. At this story, I laughed aloud and pounded the table in the pub.)

After dinner, pseudomous kid played a round of pool on the table, with a little help of course. Yay good mama!

Then, with the sun well down, we made our way to the car. Pseudonymous kid, having a fine old time, was making a strenuous argument that we should "stay in Big City and keep having fun!" Kid after my own heart, but as it was cold and I was growing impatient I would have none of it. We stopped at Starbuck's so I could grab a coffee. (Pseudonymous kid: "Let's do something fun!" Me: "Ok. Let's go into Starbuck's and buy me some coffee, that's fun." Pseudonymous kid: "No, coffee's not fun. Coffee's just a grownup drink.") I shut him up by buying him a cookie. Then, as we continued to walk to the car, he began dawdling and trying to "hide" and then jump out and "scare" us, and because it was cold I was getting very surly and not playing along and starting to say mean shit like, "Jesus christ, pseudonymous kid, hurry up already. No, I'm not going to be scared. Knock it off," and grabbing him and dragging him, yelling, along the sidewalk. Boo bad snarky mama! Boo, bad and irresponsible cookie- and coffee-buying spendthrift!

Then we got in the car and drove home and he fell asleep. I put him in bed in his coat. Boo bad mama, keeping pseudonymous kid out past his bedtime on a school night!

Then I went in to the study to find the files I needed, which were on the backup hard drive, for the conference paper I need to write. Managed to find them right away. Yay smart professor with good memory!

Checked files. Yes, the bulk of this conference paper can be based on this fairly old work I've already done, with a few added things. Boo, bad professor, recycling old ideas! Boo, bad professor who wrote abstract in order to force herself to do something new with this old material, then procrastinated and will simply fall back on existing work! Yay smart professor who remembered exactly where the old material was, found it quickly, and has to admit that even though it's old to me, it's new to everyone else and so will be a perfectly fine conference paper! Boo bad professor who should have published this a year ago!

And now, here it is. 1:30 am. And I'm still flying on that goddamn late-night Starbuck's shit. Boo, bad teacher who will be totally dragging tomorrow! Boo, irresponsible human being who cannot manage her own sleep schedule! Yay heroic professor who, despite a total lack of sleep, will somehow soldier through! Yay heroic mama/professor who sacrifices her own sleep in order to take care of sick Mr. B. and pseudonymous kid even while she gets work done on her conference paper! Boo bad professor who should be writing her conference paper instead of blogging, if she's going to be up at all hours!

The electricity came back on, though. Yay!

So that's 12 yays and 17 boos. Even if you discount one boo for the croup, I'm still not coming out ahead.

Shit.

Wednesday's political link


posted by bitchphd
Just this one blog, HungryBlues. Everything on the front page is focused on the issue of the Bush administration's (appalling) record on civil rights. Really really good stuff, including a link to a site that's tracking the whole voter suppression issue. Check it out.

Tuesday's political links


posted by bitchphd
1. Conscientious Objector, Robert A. George, The New Republic online.

2. A Supreme Opportunity, Bob Barr. "or those of us in America concerned about the loss of civil liberties already suffered in the "war on terror," the questions are both timely and critically important. If the court fully reaffirms executive immunity from sunlight, what does that suggest for the future -- especially given the likelihood that Congress soon will create an all-powerful "intelligence czar." The prospects are truly frightening." Link found at

3. This site which also (in the link) provides links to several statements by business professors, scientists, clergy, intelligence officials, ambassadors, and generals and admirals, all opposing the Bush administration.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Completely random


posted by bitchphd
The Jon Stewart thing? No one that I know of has pointed out that basically Tucker Carlson treated him the way some men treat women: "Smile, honey! Oh, don't be so humorless. You're not nearly as cute when you're not smiling. Gosh, I really don't like you so much after all. Bitch."

Work is kicking my ass right now. Annoyingly, I cannot find the primary material on which my conference paper has to be based, which means a last-minute run to Big City Research U. to get my hands on it--if only my filing technique weren't so crap, because I know I own that material somewhere. Luckily, I caught up on my grading (!!!) this morning, although there's some shit I have to put on reserve for next week that I still need to track down. It's somewhere in my files. No, really it is. Shut up.

The mouse hood is going to be cute. Can I just brag on my ability to design a pattern (admittedly a simple one), given that I only learned how to run a sewing machine a couple years ago, and I never actually use the thing? I wish I were more ambitious with the knitting thing, which I actually enjoy more. More portable and all that.

Mr. B. has a sinus infection. Poor Mr. B. So today was kind of a rough and truncated work day b/c I had to go in a bit later than I planned, so I could drop P.K. off at school, and then cancel office hours so I could run and pick him up after. But you know, somehow, I'm actually a much better worker when that mama shit structures my time. It's the only way I got the diss done. When theoretically my time is my own, I just fuck it away on the internet. Food for thought.

I found two jobs to apply for. Both of them are in places that, for different reasons, I consider "home." Fingers crossed.

I'm experimenting with bloglines and this mac reader called "shrook." Neither really floats my boat for various reasons. If anyone knows a really awesome blog reader that ideally preserves formatting (like shrook) but is free (like bloglines), please do let me know....

Oh, the video I asked about apparently arrived today. Once the Connoissuer gets over to his sister's place to watch it (since he doesn't actually own a tv), I'll let y'all know if it is, in fact, the movie he remembers seeing on late-night tv when he was 12.

Today's political links


posted by bitchphd
1. The Conservative Case for Kerry, Clyde Prestowitz (former Reagan administration official)

2. Jeb Bush lying about voter purge, Florida Herald-Tribune

Sunday, October 17, 2004

What I did


posted by bitchphd
I opted to follow wavydavy's hard-ass advice (see comments to previous entry) and work on my c.v., on the grounds that the most important goal is not the conference paper (short-term deadline) but a new job (longer-term deadline, but given how much this weather affects my mood, obviously vital to my well-being). As always, c.v.-tweaking takes much, much longer than it should because Word is the software of Satan and I reject it and all his works. Ugh.

Which meant I stayed home while the boys bake an apple pie (following pseudonymous kid's school field trip to an orchard last week), and I promised pseudonymous kid that I will work on his costume when I finish this thing, which hopefully I'll do within the hour. And if not I think I'll knock off for the day and turn my attention to designing a pattern for a mouse hood, with pink ears. Funny how it's just going to be transferring from one seated, short-field-of-vision activity to another.

Lest anyone think I'm psychically healthy or anything, though, I'll confess that the entire time I've been c.v.-updating I've felt nauseous and panicked and absolutely fucking desperate for a cigarette, though I quit smoking (again) months ago. In lieu of nicotine or suicide, I'm keeping myself shackled to my computer only by drinking scotch while I work.

Oh yeah, baby. Envy me, I'm so successful.

Gray day: hello darkness, my old friend


posted by bitchphd
Would it be really bad if I blew off work today and stayed home and made pseudonymous kid's Halloween costume, which he really really wants me to do today, if I promise to be a really really good girl tomorrow and the next day and work really really hard even though I have a conference paper to deliver next week that isn't written yet? Can I maybe write that late after teaching and on my non-teaching day and maybe work on applying for the two jobs that meet my criteria later this week, or maybe next weekend, or maybe even the week after sometime, if my c.v. is updated but just needs reformatting and I just have to update my letter and neither job wants a teaching portfolio or anything like that up front?

If I take today off will it ruin the rest of my entire life?

Saturday, October 16, 2004

Today's political linkage: homage to Seymour Hersh


posted by bitchphd
1. Interview at Berkeley

2. The New Yorker's war coverage, which has been fucking amazing. See especially everything by Hersh, especially the deservedly-famous The Gray Zone.

3. Transcription of Hersh's speech at the ACLU.

4. Hersh's book, Chain of Command. If literacy tests weren't inherently evil, I'd say no one should vote unless they've read this book.

5. And I can't help including these:

A. "The Republican Party calls Democratic Sen. John Kerry "the most liberal person to ever run for president" in a new television ad that began airing Friday"

B. "a liberal ain't some sandal-wearin' pussy who sobs for the spotted owl while abortin' children, invitin' Osama Bin Laden over to dinner for sensitivity training, and donatin' money to French Faggots Against America. No, motherfuckin' liberals got shot down tryin' to make sure you had an eight-hour work day, motherfuckin' liberals got lynched for sayin' people oughta be equal, motherfuckin' liberals got beaten down tryin' to stop the Vietnam War."

Weekend blog surfing: soccer moms who hate Bush


posted by bitchphd
I love this. Skewers Bush, political ads, focus groups, and the idea that moms are brainless Stepford wives, all in just 30 seconds.

Something new on the abortion question


posted by bitchphd
From a blog I found via a convoluted path through my sitemeter stats, something I had never considered before:

"the pro-lifers define 'conception' as what makes a baby is a rhetorical device to reinstate the belief that a baby is made by a man and merely borne by a woman. There are many steps in the process of turning raw material into a baby, but only one is bandied around by pro-lifers as the point that something turns from raw material into a baby, and amazingly enough that step is the only one that involves a man. Anything pre-conception (or, with the morning after pill, pre-intercourse) that prevents bearing a child isn't baby-killing, but anything after a man has planted his seed, if you will, is the moral equivalent of murder. Ejaculation has become the end-all and be-all to pro-lifers of what makes something a baby. "

Friday, October 15, 2004

Today's political links


posted by bitchphd
This may become a regular feature until the election.

1. Why any woman with a brain in her head needs to get her ass in a voting booth and vote for Kerry. See also what Geeky Mom has to say.

2. Don't approve of abortion? Do you approve of birth control?

3. More conservative criticism of Bush.

4. More Republican election fraud.

5. Just for fun: in case anybody missed Jon Stewart on Crossfire, here are two links links to it, via Boing Boing, via email from Matt at Iowa State. I think the first is bittorrent, and the second has both .dmv and .wmv files. Or, here's CNN's transcript. I love Jon Stewart. Can I add him to my list of boyfriends?

6. Edited to add today's Doonesbury link, which wasn't up when I posted this last night.

Since I brought it up:


posted by bitchphd
A couple of less personal pro-abortion arguments here and here.

Though really, as I said below, my problem with anti-abortion arguments is that they appeal to reason. Which is important in convincing people, but in the end, I think the abstractions miss the point, which is that motherhood and children are not, in the end, abstractions.

Today's political snark


posted by bitchphd
Got this from Trish Wilson: You Forgot Poland. Like she says, go look at it immediately.

My favorite is Dick Cheney as Mr. Burns. So, so true. I did a spit take.

Also, here is today's Doonesbury link. It's a good one.

Edited to add this. How could I have missed it the first time through?!? I want to play it in endless feedback loop. Funnier than Trevor.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Abortion


posted by bitchphd
I found this blog through majikthise, and I want to take the opportunity to talk a little bit about what I think on the subject. For whatever reason, it seems to have been coming up a lot in my life recently: on blogs I read, in terms of political discourse (and what's not being said), in my personal life, and so on.

I've always been pro-choice. But. I remember feeling a shift, when I got pregnant, from being pro-choice as a more or less intellectual position to being pro-choice as a strongly emotional and moral position. At one point, I think I would have said, "abortion bothers me, but I think women should have the right to decide on their own." Now, I would say "women need to decide because no one is better qualified, and whether or not one is bothered doesn't even enter into the equation."

When I got pregnant, it was a profound shift in who I was. I wasn't terribly sentimental about pregnancy, and I strongly resisted the messages about what I "should" do, choosing instead to do my own research and make my own decisions. I smoked once or twice, I had a drink when I wanted one, I ate whatever the hell appealed to me and lots of it. I listened to my body, and napped when I felt like it, puked when I felt like it, spent hours and hours in search of comfortable bras (someone needs to get their act together on the pregnant & maternity bra thing, I'm telling you, b/c decent ones just do not exist). Oh, I hated being pregnant. I remember crying in anger at 4 am because my body had forced me out of bed to make a peanut butter sandwich because I was famished. I remember resenting how much of my time was spent fixing food. I remember puking at 7 months and having my heaving diaphragm press on my bladder so that I peed the floor because hey, we only had the one toilet and pee is easier to clean up than puke.

But even so, or rather precisely because of the way my body took me over, I realized, in a way that I do not think anyone who hasn't been pregnant, or lived with someone who's pregnant can, that this is a major, major thing. At least, I know I would never have realized it if I hadn't lived it. People like to say, when you're pregnant, "it'll change your life!" and I got sick of that. It's true, and it's not true. It didn't change who I was, or how I do things. But it did, in ways that are impossible to articulate, make me more myself. There is nothing in my life more important than my kid.

So, I lived through this awesome experience of being pregnant, and the awesome experience of realizing that now I would have/do have someone, who was made by my body, who for the first several months of his life ate food that was made by my body, who for as long as I lived I would love more than anything else on this earth, be more responsible for than anything else, feel more strongly for than anything else. It's a sea change, bearing a child. And I realized that being in the process of going through this change and not being able to make decisions about it was a fucking terrifying prospect.

There are a lot of reasons for this. Pregnancy is, even in the industrialized world, dangerous. Women get preeclampsia, they get gestational diabetes, they puke until they're dehydrated and need to be hospitalized. Even a fairly unremarkable pregnancy like my own changes one's body forever. Giving birth is dangerous: after 24 hours of labor in one of the best maternity wards in the country, I had a cesarean. Yes, they're fairly routine: but they are major surgery. Your abdomen is cut open and a major organ is removed, opened, sewn up, and replaced. This shit is not minor.

And motherhood, too. The studies I've read show that women are vastly responsible about children. Give women economic power, and the status and well-being of children rises. Educate women, their children will be educated. Give women power over their lives, including the power to decide when to become mothers, and children are much, much better off. I went to the March on Washington in April, and I took pseudonymous kid and carried him sleeping the whole way, and I have never, never felt so safe as a mother, so sure that my kid was adored, as in that crowd of feminist women who know that motherhood is something to be taken seriously. We passed protesters yelling "baby killers" and I, carrying my son, and seeing other women with their children, thought "who yells baby killer at a woman carrying her child? In front of the child?" We passed protesters carrying signs that said "abortion harms women," and I laughed, thinking "there are three people saying abortion harms women, and a million women here saying they have the right to decide for themselves. Who are you going to believe?"

My experience, my belief, my knowledge is that women take children incredibly seriously. It seems to me that so much of the abortion debate is predicated on an abstraction that fails to acknowledge that basic fact. Read the stories in that blog I linked: over and over the women in those stories say, "I can't do that to a child," meaning, "I can't give birth to a child with a drug addiction," "I can't raise a child in my abusive relationship," "I want the best for my child, and that includes giving my child a mother who has achieved something."

I know women who have had abortions. My sister had one. She told no one for years. The father went scuba diving while she was in the clinic. She painted a picture about it, a picture of a woman writhing in pain with a fetus attached to her through her open legs and open cunt via an umbilical cord. The abortion was a shitty experience for her. But it was absolutely the right decision for her, and for the potential child, at the time. She was so very not ready to be a mother then. Young, lots of drugs, incredibly irresponsible. But she would have, did, love the child she might have born too much to have given it up. A couple of years later she got pregnant again, and straightened her life out, and she is one of the fiercest, best mothers I know. She's far from perfect: but there is no doubt in anyone's mind that her daughter is the single most important thing in her life. It's because she is that kind of mother that she chose not to have a child before she could do it right.

It is precisely because having children is so important that abortion is something that can't be legislated away. When it's illegal, desperate women who know the importance of children will still abort pregnancies they know they can't bring to term. Because women will do anything, including risk their own lives, for their kids. Women have had abortions from time immemorial. To call abortion "selfish," as some do, is to completely deny that women are moral agents, to completely deny the importance of motherhood. I have no doubt that there are women who are selfish, who have abortions for idiotic reasons, who do stupid things. Women can be fucked up. But fucked-up women make fucked-up mothers; more importantly, the vast, vast majority of women take this whole question of children incredibly seriously. It is one of the most serious things we have to deal with (whether or not we have them, because having them will, as people say, "change your life"), and there is just no way that it's right to take away from women, to take away from mothers, the right to make decisions for their children. Because no one is better qualified, no one cares more, no one knows better than I do, or than any woman does, what is best for my kid. Period.

Doonesbury links


posted by bitchphd
Probably everyone on the internet knows this by now, but just in case, check out what's been going on over at Doonesbury: a link every day to an article or letter written by a conservative Republican type indicting the Bush administration. Here are the first four links:

1. Going to War in Iraq Was A Mistake, Rep. Doug Bereuter, R-Nebraska

2. Why Conservatives Must not Vote for Bush, Doug Bandow, Cato Institute

3. Email from Baghdad, Farnaz Fassihi, Wall St. Journal

4. Why I will Vote for John Kerry for President, John Eisenhower (son of Dwight D.)

How to bring kids to eat in restaurants


posted by bitchphd
And not piss off the waiter. Interestingly, the parent-constructed rules seem to be very different from the waiter-constructed rules.

My rules? Tip 30-50% in a grownup type restaurant, and never less than 20%--preferably a solid 25%--even in a place with a kids' menu and crayons. If it's a baby and it cries, give it a tit. If that doesn't work, or if it's too old to nurse, take it outside immediately and give it a stern talking-to, and don't go back in until it agrees to behave. Clean up the kid's messes, don't make the waiter do it, even if this means getting on the floor to pick up dropped things. Although spilled sugar packets you can't really get up off the floor, but you can wipe them off the table into the palm of your hand. Ask for extra napkins before the spill (and if the waiter automatically brings them without you asking, then the tip goes over the minimum 30%). Be cheerful and upbeat, and thank the waiter, and teach your kid how to place an order and to thank the waiter, too, and talk nicely to the kid, and teach him to keep his voice down because not everyone wants to hear what he's saying because they all have their own conversations to listen to and is anyone else in this restaurant being that loud? No? Ok, then.

My friend the restaurant owner says the rules are much simpler than that.

1. Bring children dressed and ready to be cooked.
2. Make sure they are cute shaggy mop headed children.
3. Fuck the waiter.
4. See rule number three.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Ranty debate reaction


posted by bitchphd
In spite of me and Michael Bérubé, Kerry left the voting issue off the table, even when saying "discrimination still exists in America." Damnit.

But that's just a question of tactics. More importantly, wtf was up with Bush, the goddamn president of the USA, saying "i'm not so sure it's credible to quote leading news organizations." I mean, that right there oughta lose him the election. Hardefucking har, you stupid motherfucker, the importance of a free press is not a joking matter.

I thought Kerry did well on money issues and the economy. It's obvious that he knows what he's talking about, and Bush doesn't. Bush continued to demonstrate that he thinks simply saying a thing makes it so, which is another vulnerable point for him; he has fucked the economy up, and it's obvious that "fiscal responsibility" is not the current administration's watch word. And it was pleasing to have Kerry catch--and point out--a couple of flat-out lies. But this debate felt calmer, less aggressive to me than the others. Maybe that's good. I don't know. I suppose maybe it's reassuring to voters. I hope so.

But I do wish that the issue of things like civil rights had come up. Oh well. Now we just have to see what happens. And get out the damn vote, and moniter the polling places to document how many folks they turn away....

What I read this weekend


posted by bitchphd
Surprisingly, a good story about the 2000 Florida elections in, of all places, Vanity Fair. Since when did Vanity Fair start doing investigative political reporting? I must subscribe. Clothes + pictures of Jude Law + indicting the Bush administration = good reading.

I remembered having read the article--the second half of which is specifically about the disenfranchisement of black voters, I'm amazed to say--because of running across this Washington Post story about, yes, disenfranchising black voters in Florida. Courtesy of Bicyclemark, yet again. Complete with this absolutely mind-boggling, George-Wallace worthy statement from the office of the motherfucking election chief in Duval county: "Carlberg's office . . . said the real blame belongs with the Democratic-leaning groups that targeted minority voters and then turned in sloppy and incomplete registrations. The disproportionate number of black Democratic registrations flagged, said Carlberg spokeswoman Erin Moody, is a function of "who those groups are targeting.""

What can you possibly say to that? "'Scuse me, Mr. Florida election commissioner, sir, but you know, technically everyone gets a vote in this country. Even bigots like you." Well, everyone except convicted felons, who have to beg the magnanimous hand of Jeb Bush to reinfranchise them.

Now, this voter disenfranchisement thing, along with the the-media's-completely-falling-down-on-the-job-of-having-a-critical-relationship-to-government thing, is really disillusioning for me. Oh, I'm ticked about the undermining of women's reproductive freedom, and I'm very aware that even if Kerry gets elected and rescinds the global gag rule, that in the meantime real people's real lives will have been really fucked up (and in some cases, real people will have died), and I'm ticked about the real war, and real people dying there, and the real ways that real stability in the middle east has been really made that much more distant as a goal, and lord knows I'm ticked about Gitmo and Abu Ghraib and the undermining of the Geneva Conventions and the Patriot act and exporting torture and civil liberties out the window, baby.

But I'm having this naive--yet fascinated--response to the voting thing and the media thing. Like, wow. The system is really really fucked up and fragile, and collectively, we really didn't notice? Oh, you'd hear rumblings occasionally about blacks not voting, or being discouraged from voting, and there was the motor voter thing, and yeah, we've all been talking for years about the ways that news reporting frames events, etc. etc. But I for one am just really shocked--shocked!!--to find that gambling is going on in Rick's basement. No, wait, I mean, I'm shocked to find out the extent to which the voting system is massively fucked up in ways that extend back to fucking reconstruction. And I'm even more shocked to see how little outrage there really is over this shit, still. Yeah, there's articles in the Washington Post and NYT. But you would think, you would think that this kind of stuff would have people in the streets protesting, that it would be the lead story on the nightly news for weeks, that 60 Minutes would talk about it instead of, say, how spoiled the new generation is, that it would turn into a goddamn crusade on the part of the big newspapers instead of an occasional shocking story.

I mean, voting. I know high schools don't teach civics any more. But it's interesting to me, and I think it's the kind of thing that most people, really, do care a great deal about, and I find it absolutely shocking that the Republican party as currently constructed is really actually willing to manipulate the system as cynically as it's doing. I know it's naive to feel that way--not because Republicans are innately evil (in fact, I think that a lot of conservative types are much better at articulating the genuinely principled and idealistic beliefs behind their philosophy than lefty types, who have managed to get defensive on the subject of things like values and principles, not to mention the aesthetic affect of being oh-so-jaded-and-cynical). No, it's not that the right has a monopoly on manipulation, but that obviously all systems are subject to, and frequently manipulated by, cynical bastards of every political stripe. There's plenty of history of electoral manipulation and media complicity with the powers that be.

But as a fashionably urban cynical lefty type, I have to say: I am shocked. I wish the goddamn country were shocked, too.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Now that I'm all syndicated and fed...


posted by bitchphd
I have nothing exciting to report other than that Mr. B. and pseudonymous kid are both sick! Hooray! Puking kid + self-pitying husband= fun fun fun!!

In other news, and just to show how two-faced I am on the whole, "oh, be empathetic to students" thing, I got an email today from a student, post-grading, saying, in effect, "all my other professors give me A's and you didn't! And I proof-read my work and everything. I don't understand what you want, so could you write up some personalized guidelines telling me what to do so that I can make sure and follow your instructions? Thanks!"

To which my response was, in effect, "Um, no. Take notes. And think for yourself. Which, see, is the exact opposite of following instructions, which is probably why you didn't get an A. Time to grow up, kiddo."

No, I didn't really say that. I told him to come see me during office hours.

Damn students.

Monday, October 11, 2004

I invoke the power of the internet!!


posted by bitchphd
Help me my minions. I can't for the life of me remember the name of this movie, and it's driving me crazy.

A woman goes to Paris and meets a very suave French restaurateur, with a sort of Ronald Colemanish voice (but not Ronald Coleman). Naturellement, they fall in love. By some horrible twist of fate, she has to leave Paris before they can meet up again--maybe he's late for a date? I don't remember, but he was just about to profess his undying love. So she's gone, and he doesn't know how to track her down. I think he has only her first name, or something. Anyway, so Mr. French restauranteur takes his chef, Cesar, to New York! to open a new restaurant, one that will be so fantastique that, eventually, everyone who lives in New York will come through, and he will see his love again. Needless to say, the plan works: she comes in with her parents, he spots her across the crowded dining room, the music swells, and the credits roll. Presumably, once married, our heroine lives happily ever after because she doesn't have to do the cooking.

Does anyone recognize it? It's a present for one of my boyfriends, who owns a restaurant and is an absolute sucker for old-fashioned romantic shit.

Sunday, October 10, 2004

w00t!!


posted by bitchphd
I feel the totally illogical need to demonstrate my internet cred with a li'l l33t-speak because, while I don't even know what this means, exactly, I now have RSS and yahoo feed thingys, courtesy of Bicyclemark's generosity (and hopefully the fact that he had nothing better to do for half an hour or however long it took to set it up). So, check it: I look like I know what I'm doing.

Now if only he wanted to be my research assistant....

Much ado about very little


posted by bitchphd
Oh my god, I finished the grading (hallelujah) and I'm taking a couple of days off. Mid-semester, even. I hear there's rumors on the internets (that has just got to become a catchphrase!! Please!! It sounds like a bit from a Kevin Meany routine--does anyone else remember Meany's jokes about his out-of-it midwestern elderly relatives?) that the Chronicle wants to interview Dr. Bitch? Well, Clancy said so, anyway. Surely this is a joke. It's weird. I said to Dateboy that apparently 'Dr. Bitch has a more successful career than I do--the bitch." He offered to trip her next time he sees her, or maybe make sure she gets gum on her hooker boots, but I said no, she's really my better half, at which point he offered to do--other things. It's true that Dr. Bitch pretty much represents many of my favorite me-qualities. It's odd, though, because I haven't really thought ofher as being much of a persona, really--just a pseudonym. But she does seem to be taking on a life of her own.

I wonder if she'll do some of the grading for me.

Friday, October 08, 2004

A moment of civilization in an otherwise barren existence


posted by bitchphd
The local grocery store has finally started carrying organic coffee beans. Ah, the little grindy sound in the morning, and the musing on the elegant design of the coffee grinder, with its sharp blades safe from kid-fingers because it only works with the lid on. Ah, the bubbling of the water coming to a boil in a saucepan on the new gas stove. Ah, the rush of steamy heat as you pour the water into the coffeepot. The anticipation while it steeps, spent composing a bloggish ode to caffeine. The satisfying pressing of the plunger down against the resisting water. Selecting my favorite mug, the one that reminds me of home, and filling it with hot, hot coffee, adding a good dash of cream, and never stirring, but watching cream and coffee swirl together, slowing...

Mmm, coffee, yes please.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Proud to say


posted by bitchphd
That my very own blog entry, Dick Cheney is losing his mind, is the number two hit if you search "Dick Cheney+Ph.D" on MSN search.

Take that, you lying fiend! More useful everyday!

What's wrong with graduate students?


posted by bitchphd
My own input on Sharleen's and profgrrrrl's posts on the subject, which started out as a comment on profgrrrl's post, and then sort of just snowballed into a blog entry.

Let me say a bit about my own graduate school experience. I failed my qualifying exams. Failed them. Because I was so ambitious, trying so hard to impress, that instead of just summarizing what I knew and why I found it interesting, instead of just talking about the subject, I flailed about trying to come up with some insanely impressive original theory (on a qualifying exam?!?) and just ended up sounding like I had no fucking idea what I was talking about. Obviously, I recovered. I did know my shit. But I was trying so hard to impress that I couldn't just relax and say what I knew.

I think graduate school is a really weird place. On the one hand, we want and expect grad students to be adults, to act collegial. On the other hand, we have a lot of power over them. Think about our own faculty anxiety about not being smart enough, not measuring up, what if someone knows that we flubbed that, why are we blogging anonymously? Then multiply it exponentially. Grad students feel that everything is riding on their ability to be "good students," a position that's the exact opposite of being "good independent collegial thinkers." We want the impossible from them. And often it's the smartest, savviest, most intuitive students who sense our impatience (which has nothing to do with them, and is probably more a generalized impatience with our own jobs, especially those of us who are junior faculty), and get nervous about it, and then panic and stop being able to think.

My own approach (with grads and undergrads) is to spend a lot of time articulating their anxieties for them. Like, with my graduate students, on the first day of class, I said, "ok, this is my first grad class here, and I'm not sure what the standard format for graduate presentations is at this institution." And they said, "neither do we!" So I laughed, and told them what I thought a presentation should do, and why. No one ever did that when I was in graduate school, and it sucked to try to guess, and it sucked more to have to listen to godawful presentations, and it sucks most of all to be teaching a class where students are giving godawful presentations and eating up all the seminar time and no one is learning anything. And I've talked with them about publishing anxiety, and about how to grade efficiently. They aren't my TAs, but apparently the person they're TAing for hasn't talked to them about grading and time management (!!!). My own graduate institution excelled at training TAs: there was a summer training program, and a first-semester seminar that was all about pedagogy. I've passed on what I learned there to my own graders and grad students. It was invaluable.

But most institutions don't have that sort of thing. Mine doesn't. It sucks. Students are put in the position of having to infer our expectations because we don't always spell them out. Now, part of this is because our expectations seem to us obvious: obviously a presentation should summarize the material and offer points of entry between it and the other things going on in the class. Obviously a qualifying exam is simply meant to show that the student has more or less mastered a defined area of work. Obviously it's insane to spend more than fifteen minutes per paper/exam when grading a class of 100: just do the math!! It is really fucking hard, on our part, to infer the paranoia of graduate students (even though we've all been there ourselves), because the paranoia and defensiveness of graduate students knows no bounds. Graduate school is a bottomless pit of paranoia and defensiveness. And, as we aren't therapists, we can't, in the end, overcome all that; students will just have to get therapy on their own. (I'm serious, actually. When undergrads ask me about advice for graduate school, I usually tell them to get a good therapist.)

But I think we can try to articulate the unwritten rules, even when (especially when) we think they're obvious. And grad students, for their part, need to screw up the courage to say that they don't know the rules, to raise their hands on the first day and say, "can you tell us what you expect an effective presentation to do?" or to set up a meeting with their thesis advisor (after failing my quals and being in therapy for a year, I figured out this one on my own) to ask, "at what point do you want to see drafts of my work? What kinds of comments do you give? What things do you expect me to do on my own, and what things do you expect me to ask for help with?" We get busy, and we teach so many students, that we sometimes forget that they don't all know this shit (none of them do). But it's really, I think, the heart of academia. All we do, whether in teaching or in publishing, is state that-which-is-obvious-to-us in ways that are clear enough to make them suddenly appear obvious to others.

A not-all-that-anxious entry full of parenthetical asides


posted by bitchphd
I had a hard time coming up with a headline, but I just wanted to point out that The Guardian, apparently, loves me (though they didn't give me a link at the end of the article, feh! But Mr. Journalist guy assures me that was the editor's fault. Damn editors). Interestingly, every one of the blogs mentioned is on blogspot, which suggests that Jim McClellan (I guess I don't have to call him "Mr. Journalist Guy," since he's got a byline and isn't, himself, anonymous; nor am I sleeping with him) uses the "next blog" feature a lot, or else that anonymous bloggers are less likely to know how to write their own code.

I'm joking around. McClellan did a good job of pulling out the salient point of what I said (no easy task, as we all know how much I do go on), which is that I think the extent to which I am a representative "job blog" (as opposed to a sex blog, or an academic blog, or a political blog, or a confessional blog... my, so many labels) has to do with the conflict between the cultural imperative that we identify ourselves with our jobs ("what do you do?") and the fact that those jobs increasingly feel unreliable (downsizing, the shitty job market, whatever), which I think creates a lot of conflict in people's minds.

False indignance at lack of linkage (no matter, as any google variation on "bitch phd" will find me) aside, the other blogs mentioned in the article look quite interesting: a couple I already know (like The Policeman's Blog). Check 'em out while I go do my actual job, i.e. grade.

P.S. I almost always read the books I assign, even if it is only at the last minute. Though a colleague once said, my first year on the job, "so, have you lectured yet on a book you haven't read?" Ah, honesty.

Then again, he had tenure.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

Brain. Dead.


posted by bitchphd
I've plowed my way through about 75% of the grading I stupidly put off for the first four weeks of class. Light at end of tunnel. That'll teach me to avoid grading. Lord is it hard to come up with tactful ways of saying, "I can see you're trying, sort of, but you're really just wrong..." Luckily these marks are only contingent, meant to suggest whether the students are going the right direction or not. And luckily I have a grader to do the rest of them later in the term.

It's such a pedagogical tug-of-war, the gap between what's best for the students (regular work, regular feedback) and what's best for the profs (exams). It's frustrating to have to decide between self-preservation and self-respect. The students seem to really appreciate it; more than one of them has said "I can't believe how many posts there are (2-3 posts per student per week in a class of 99, you do the math), do you really read them all?!?" The answer is, no, I skim; but when you have to mark and comment then yes, you have to read.

My eyeballs feel like they're going to fall out. There has got to be a better way.

Tomorrow is my non-teaching day. I am going to go to the dentist, paint my toenails, enjoy some cybersex, and do some other shit.

And finish this damn grading.

The saga of the incompetent bastards at ____


posted by bitchphd
I wish I weren't anonymous, because then I could tell you all NEVER to go to the shop I took my computer to. Which is the shop that everyone around here says, "oh, take it to so-and-so, they're great" but obviously they aren't, which only serves to reinforce my bigotry and sense that this place is full of yahoos. Anyway. The technicians at do-not-go-to-that-shop kept my baby hostage for two weeks, two weeks of squabbling with Mr. B. over his laptop, two weeks of feeling like my brain was in hock, two weeks of not being able to print at work b/c Mr. B.'s machine isn't set up on the network and the network setup guy was on vacation (I tried to do it myself. It's a Mac. It should be easy. I couldn't figure it out, and I kept thinking surely my machine would be ready any day now...).

So after two weeks of me calling and hassling them, and repeating the symptoms to everyone I talked to, the shop finally calls and says, "you know, we just cannot seem to reproduce the problem. Maybe it's just that you need a new battery?" Which I do, but that ain't it. Anyway, since they are helpless motherfuckers, and Mr. B. and I are sick of squabbling, he goes into Big City to get the machine. Talks to the guy who tried to diagnose it. Diagnostic guy says that certain symptoms that Mr. B. says, "but did you check this?" are things he was never told about, which is a bunch of crap b/c I told him myself, personally, three times. Anyway, Mr. B. pays these bozos $75 for failing to figure out what's wrong with the machine and takes it home with a promise to call if the problem recurs.

Which it does. Six fucking times in two hours, as soon as I start using it again.

So finally, I just say to Mr. B., "you know, my theory is that it is the case that is the problem. But maybe it's just the keyboard. It can't hurt to pop open the damn thing and vacuum it, right?" And Mr. B. agrees. So he does it (I'm nervous about poking around inside computer innards).

And goddamn if it doesn't seem to be working just fine now.

So. Don't ever go to that shop. Because they are idiots.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

Survey


posted by bitchphd
Based on a couple of conversations with a colleague and my friend Mr. Dateboy, I'm going to violate my self-imposed rule of trying not to sound like an actual sex blog and ask y'all a question, b/c I am curious. Note that you can leave anonymous comments: you don't need to identify yourselves, but c'mon, fess up: true online confessions are so freeing. It'll be good for you.

How common is the fantasy of fucking in a library/office/grad lounge, whatever? I know someone who slept in the grad lounge once, just to do it. And I know someone else who fucked his girlfriend in her office. And everyone has heard stories about people getting caught in libraries, and I know a librarian who says he's constantly interrupting people masturbating (how annoying). Dateboy and I had a conversation last night about maybe hooking up next time I'm in Big City to do research and screwing in the Big City U. research library. We hypothesized about what it is about that particular fantasy that's appealing (leaving out the obvious semi-public sex stuff, b/c really, it's just the library): Dateboy says it's that 1. "it's quiet and maze-like, so it begs for hidden corners to be explored"; and 2. "for anyone that holds books in some esteem, it's also a nice place to subvert." I say it's that I eroticize writing to begin with; there's a particular musty old long-dead Important Scholar who writes stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with sex, but whose ideas I find so intricate and compelling that reading him is always an erotic experience. And probably part of it is the whole brain-on-a-stick vs. thinking-with-bodies issue that obviously is important to me.

So. Who else has the library fantasy? And what do you think it's all about?

Monday, October 04, 2004

Last word on the subject... (not my words, either)


posted by bitchphd
Dr. R., who leaves neither email nor webpage, does leave what I think is an absolutely brilliant comment on this whole academic parenting question. (Comments 51 & 52 to this post). I'm just going to cite her entire comment, with some brief comments of my own interspersed in italics.

Dr. R writes: "First, my caveats, by way of establishing ethos. Don't have children. Think I would like to. Am approaching an age where I'll have to begin thinking about nontraditonal routes to motherhood. Love some children. Can't stand others. It really depends on the child--and the parent! One of my closest friends from grad school has the brattiest child I've ever met up close, and yes, I blame her and her husband, and yes, it's put a huge strain on our relationship. That kind of out-of-control-brattiness is hard for me to be around. Both professionally and personally, I have always been very willing to accommodate other people's schedules and needs, child-related or not. I use 'resentment' as my guide: if I feel put out, I don't do it, but if it's no sweat off my back, I do. At the same time, do prefer, like profgrrl, I think from her weblog, the 'no explanation' professional policy. If you can't make a meeting, just say that you can't. I'm not really interested in why people can't do things, just that they can't; likewise, I don't feel the need to justify my own scheduling preferences. (And likewise likewise, I dropped the excused/unexcused absense policy for my students. They get so many free misses--how they use them is up to them.) I do think that parents who use their children as rationales for not doing or not attending something create a kind of sacred text that silences discussion. And they do so unnecessarily. And they do so, in my experience, more often than not."

To which I add, in principle I agree; but I think that saying "I can't do this because of my kids" does draw people's attention to the work / family conflict thing in ways that are beneficial to society. Personally, my big agenda is maybe for women to have to do it less, and men to do it more... surely there's some aspect of this "excuse" thing that's gendered, having to do with women offering unnecessary explanations. But given that a lot of people think men don't have work / family conflicts, I think the guys at least need to open their yaps on this one.

Dr. R. Continues: "That said:

I'm in a tenure-track position but not yet tenured. After a few years of temporary offices, I somehow lucked into a very nice office that I happily settled into. But about nine months into that happy settling--a gestation!--my dean called a meeting for all of the people who were involved in the following year's moves. I, to my surprise, was included in this meeting--because a faculty member who had has a baby HAD ASKED FOR MY OFFICE. She thought my office would be more convenient for her when she brought her baby into campus--because it was on the first floor, because it was near the microwave, because it was bigger than her current one. And she went straight to the dean with this--never talked to me about it, perhaps because she new she was being completely ridiculous. (And I should note here that she and I started our t-t positions the same year. And I was the only untenured person on that floor.) But the dean didn't see this as ridiculous: the dean saw this as the thing to do. So I was at the meeting, where I was presented with an argument about why I should move. I responded by saying, 'I prefer to stay where I am,' and named the reasons why my office was a good space for me to work. The dean said, 'But you're talking about preference, not need.' And I, for whatever cowardly reason (I have a long history as a good girl, but I'm not always so timid) didn't say back, 'But Professor Mother's is a preference, too, not a need!' And no one else in the room--all women, some mothers, some not--said a word. They all kept their heads down.

The only person I know of who said a word was a gay senior colleague, a man I adore, who is outspokenly fed up with heterosexual-normativity. After I told him what happened, he approached the dean and told her that what she did wasn't right. She responded by saying, 'I don't like junior faculty who ask for things.' And she meant me! Me! Because I stood up for myself! Because I wasn't being a 'team player' (and was instead what I'm sure she took as my being a bad sister)! Me!

I know that this is just one story, but it has effects: I have a difficult time looking either woman in the eye, and one of those women has a tremendous amount of power over me.

And I wonder about this culture with an uncomfortable silence at its center. Why did none of the women witnesses say, 'This is fucked up'? What kept me from pointing out the illogic of the argument?

And the punchline? Just after all of this happened, I was talking to a very good friend of mine, a mother of three children I adore, three children who call me Auntie. I told her what happened, livid, and she said in a tsk-tsk voice, 'The world can be very hard on mothers, Dr. R.' I said, 'The world can be very hard on women who aren't mothers.' And I realized then that my friend would always take the side, no matter the logic or fairness, of mothers over nonmothers, even when they are good friends she should have some faith in. Another strained relationshop.

I feel like my world is dividing."

I think this is an absolutely brilliant point. The problem is the silence around the question of family (on both sides): once you say "family," it's sacrosanct, and discussion shuts down. This screws parents over, and it screws people without kids over. And part of the result of the silence and getting-screwed-over is that it ends up being a subject that both sides feel threatened and defensive on (I've been interested in how the comments around these posts will go quite a long way towards discussion, but then defensiveness will creep back in--including mine, I'm sure). I don't have a solution to this, except to say that, like all taboo subjects, talking about it is probaby a good thing, especially when that talking is generous and thoughtful, as Dr. R. demonstrates....

Sunday, October 03, 2004

Now, when I was a kid....


posted by bitchphd
All right. I've plowed through about 1/3rd of the grading backlog (ugh, ugh, ugh) and the boys are at the park and even though I'm totally brain dead (and still in my pyjamas!! Yes!) I might as well tackle this thing b/c it's been sort of rattling around my head all day and it's not like once the weekend's over I'm going to have more time. Ha.

Note though, that I'm totally talking out my ass in this post, as it's not really something I've studied formally. So this is just theorizing, ok? Also, it's sort of derivitave theorizing, I fear. So please take this as one parent's perceptions of current parenting trends, rather than any kind of real comprehensive overview, 'kay?

The funny thing is, that even though there've been more blog comments on the motherhood question than on anything (except Trevor) so far, I feel oddly like this is a "boring" topic. Which certainly says something about cultural perceptions of motherhood. I also want to acknowledge that yes, the fact that women = mothers, culturally speaking, is a massive piece of sexist bullshit that obviously (with my fucking around and not talking about kid stuff a whole lot and worrying that by blogging motherhood I'm going to bore my readers to tears) I am sort of buying into even as I try to challenge it. Whether it's our universal disdain for "soccer" (or "security") moms, or sort of studiedly casual passing references to major illness-type things, I'm not the only person in the world to sort of understate, if not really downplay, the role of parenting in my life.

So I think there's a tension going on here. On the one hand, culturally we define "families" as "couples with children," and we natter on about family values, the importance of families, and so on. On the other hand, we sort of look down on families, and parenting, as boring subjects, and we get impatient. I do, too. I think there's sort of a general sense that at some point in the future, families with kids just sort of happened, and people went about their business, and it just wasn't such a Big Fucking Deal.

Now, part of this is maybe that we're thinking back to when we were kids, and of course it wasn't a big deal to us, because it was the sea we swam in. Part of it, though, might be that the concept of family is in major transition in the last decade or so, in ways it hasn't been for quite some time. So I'm reading this kind of interesting book right now, called The Feminine Economy and Economic Man, and while I haven't finished it (and I think it oversimplifies certain things rather badly), it makes the interesting point that parents can be viewed, in economic terms, as producers: kids are like a sort of investment, from which we'll eventually draw labor, resources, wealth production, etc. But because we have defined the labor of rearing families as non-economic, more and more women are making the rational economic choice to do something else, that pays well, rather than to sacrifice their labor without any kind of reimbursement. It's an interesting point, and I think it highlights one of the main things that's changed since when I was a kid: the standard middle-class assumption now is that married couples with kids have two incomes. Both parents work.

Now, when I was a kid, my mom worked, and I was a latchkey kid. And I also walked to school (a surprisingly long way, I noticed, when I went back home recently for a visit). But that was a transitional period. After WWII, people moved into suburbs, and middle-class women were pushed out of the labor force, mostly. Lots of work, I think, has shown that the 50's were an anamoly, but the point is they invented the suburbs, and we've inherited not only the physical space but also the beliefs that shaped it. When moms mostly stayed home, kids could play in the street and walk to school because there were moms around. Then, we have a couple of important changes. One, the pill means that women can choose not to have kids. Two, middle-class women start going (back) to work. So, for a while, old patterns (kids walking to school, playing in the streets) continue, even though the conditions that helped support those things are shifting. (And, of course, not all moms were working back then: my mom did, but the neighbor mom didn't). We had this idea that the suburbs were safe for kids (an idea a lot of people still believe in).

But we've also had, in recent years, a lot of high-profile news stories about abuduction, child molestation, school shootings, and the like. So parents get paranoid. My sister, for instance, once shocked me by saying she wouldn't let her 7-year old daughter go to the bathroom in a restaurant by herself. Now, I for one think that this is kind of extreme. But on the other hand, we have a culture where if something bad happens to a kid, we are extremely quick to judge the parents. I don't know if anyone remembers the case of Danielle Van Dam, who was abducted from her own bed by a neighbor, while her father was home. At first it was a shocking tragedy. But as soon as it came out that her mother had been out--until two a.m.!--and that her parents had an open marriage, there was all sorts of bullshit (like the linked article) about how, somehow, this explained it. The parents simply hadn't been careful enough in protecting their kids. There was a grotesque newspaper cartoon, which I can't find to link to, that showed a little kid strapped to a torture table with a looming big fat guy wearing an executioner's hood saying something about how if mom hadn't been too busy fucking around, the kid would have been safe.

Now, obviously that's extreme, but it demonstrates the culture of "parental responsibility" that we've sort of overdeveloped, imho. It's illegal, for instance, to leave a kid in a car by himself, even if you are just stepping in to pay for gas (and let me tell you what a pain in the ass that used to be, when pseudonymous kid was a baby, and you'd have to unbuckle and inevitably wake a sleeping baby to pay for fucking gas and then, of course, the baby would cry the rest of the way home b/c his nap had been interrupted). In fact, when psuedonymous kid was a baby, I used to pull the car up to the end of the driveway (which went to the back of the house) and leave him sleeping in his car seat while I went inside, did laundry, ate lunch, whatever. People freak when I tell them that, but moving him inside woke his ass up, and meant I would never have gotten anything done. I also left him sleeping in a stroller, locked in my office on campus once or twice while I went to the bathroom. Potentially dangerous? Hell yeah, if there's a fire. And if anything had happened, you know it would have been "my fault," rather than just a damn tragedy. This kind of caution probably keeps kids safer than they used to be, but it sure puts a lot of pressure on parents, and makes us awfully defensive, sometimes.

There's all sorts of other negligent shit I, personally, do, including drinking when I was pregnant. Let's look at the text of that warning label on our beer bottles, shall we? "Government Warning: (1) According to the Surgeon General, women should not drink alcoholic beverages during pregnancy because of the risk of birth defects. (2) Consumption of alcohol impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery, and may cause health problems." Notice the order and tone. Pregnant women should not drink. Drivers, however, are merely given information, and left to make their own decisions. This kind of sums up the general cultural attitude towards women once they become moms (and, in fact, it's kind of bullshit: I did my research, and Fetal Alcohol Syndrome is a risk, really, only if you drink every day or binge every week. Not if you have an occasional beer or glass of wine. And oddly, it seems to be much less of a risk for first children, regardless of how much the mother drinks). Suddenly there's an awful lot of "shoulds" and "should nots" that I, for one, felt remarkably free of before I got knocked up.

My point? One reason parents drive their kids to school and develop playgroups and formal supervised activities and schedule the shit out of childhood is because we hold them absolutely responsible for every freaking thing that can possibly go wrong. I, personally, think this is backlash central: once moms started working outside the home, we decided to up the ante on "good" parenting. There's this sense in which, if you want to have "it all," you have to do "it all" perfectly (and single women get this shit too, I know: it's not enough to just be a professor, you have to be super-prof. Everyone loves "Sex and the City," with stylish, kicky Sarah Jessica Parker). Also, to be fair, there's probably a certain amount of simple self-consciousness about parenting that's the result of having made it less of a foregone conclusion: now, since you can "choose" to have a kid, you get to interrogate yourself about all sorts of things. Timing, how many, whether or not to stay home, for how long, bottle or breast feeding, public or private schooling, blah blah ad infinitum. None of it is taken for granted any more, and as a result, we've all gotten amazingly self-conscious about children.

Of course, there are probably other factors too. In the 70s, we started bussing kids to school; now that's sort of fallen apart, but we haven't returned to neighborhood schools, so parents drive kids instead. We used to fund public schools way better than we do now, so there were smaller classes and more after-school activities (at least, there were where I went to school). White flight after school integration started certainly didn't help, as it spread the middle-class parents we're talking about out and away from city centers (which I think we're starting to return to), yanked money from public schools, and helped undercut a sense of community; I think there was sort of this sense in which the white middle class decided to take its ball and go home, becaues it didn't want to play with "those" kids. The 80s saw a lot of tax revolt, a lot of rebellion against public spending; and, because birth control meant that it was a lot easier not to have kids, people stopped seeing children as a universal responsibility and started seeing them as a "choice," and we started to get rhetoric about not wanting to pay for other people's choices.

In essence, we've privatized a lot of things that used to be seen as communal responsibilities. And at the same time, we've upped the ante on good parenting: the wage gap between those with college educations and those without, I think, is bigger than it used to be, so it's really important to give your kids "all the advantages"; car seats and bike helmets are required, tv-watching is bad, we realized that convenience foods are nutritionally void (I grew up on frozen tv dinners, anyone else? Raise your hand), we don't believe in spanking any more. A lot of these changes are good: I honestly think that kids benefit from not being smacked, from being listened to, from spending a lot of time with their parents, from wearing seatbelts and helmets. But these changes do require a lot of intensive parenting that wasn't expected of our own parents, and one result of that is that middle-class parents, anyway, watch their kids like hawks. And the more we do that, the more we're expected to do that. The whole culture adjusts its expectations.

Now, having said all this, I have noticed that there are real differences from region to region of the country in terms of how people are "supposed" to parent. For example, I have noticed that on the west coast, parents tend to supervise their individual children on the playground. On the east coast, parents sit on benches and the kids play "by themselves"--which means that, actually, east coast kids play together in playgrounds, while west coast kids play in parallel, mostly interacting with their own parents. Or, say, if you take the A train from Central park to upper Manhattan, and you have a baby, you will notice that at the beginning of the journey, people are less likely to offer you a seat and more likely to avert their gaze if you breastfeed. By the time you get up to Washington Heights (a poorer neighborhood, mostly immigrants, for those who don't know NYC), strangers will smile at you nursing your kid, they'll help carry your stroller, they're just generally warmer. (Oh, and btw, someone asked why the US has a higher birth rate than other developed countries--I suspect immigrant populations have something to do with that.) In the midwest, you've got a lot more grocery stores with car-shaped carts for kids to sit in, family parking spaces, a bigger emphasis on "family"-friendly entertainment and space; the south has many of the same things, plus a strong emphasis on teaching kids to be polite. So I do wonder if some of the annoyance some people feel at some kid behaviors might not be partly culture shock.

So, an anecdote: recently, we found ourselves in a rural part of the country with pseudonymous kid, eating at a very casual family-owned restaurant. Our waiter was probably about 10 years old. Pseudonymous kid was cranky and swearing ("damnit!"). I don't care if he swears; but suddenly, with our 10-year old waiter in rural wherever, I felt absolutely mortified. On the other hand, while visiting an old friend recently, I asked her son (who is a couple years older than pseudonymous kid) to help pseudonymous kid set the table for dinner, and the kid flat-out refused. Afterwards, I had a really interesting conversation with my friend, who is an anthropologist about expectations and child-rearing. She, having grown up poor and with a lot of siblings, felt like she'd been expected to be way too responsible, way too young; I, having grown up with just one sister in a middle-class family, felt like I hadn't been asked to do enough. So my kid sets the table, and hers doesn't. In other ways, though, she is much stricter than I am: her kid isn't allowed to talk back, mine is.

All of which is to say that I think it's really impossible to generalize about how people raise kids, though it's pretty easy to generalize about how the magazines and books that are aimed at secular, middle-class parents tell us we're supposed to raise kids.

I said I was being derivative, and I am: I think I'm gonna let this topic rest for now. In closing, here is a shitty, tossed-together bibliography of my own personal sources, the stuff I read in pseudonymous kid's early years, a set of partial, popular, non-academic but thoughtful books on the subject. Any of them would make great gifts for expectant parents, by the way; eschew that crappy "What to Expect" book or another cute outfit in favor of any of these:

Cultural Criticism:
The Mask of Motherhood
Mother Reader
The Mother Trip
The Hip Mama Survival Guide
Breeder
Mothers Who Think

Economics
The Price of Motherhood
The Feminine Economy and Economic Man

How To:
Sexy Mamas
Becoming the Parent you Want to Be (best parenting book ever)

Actually, truly, made me spit coffee (which luckily missed Mr. B.'s laptop)


posted by bitchphd
To The Person Who Found My Camera

"I'm sure the discovery of 17 close-up shots of a cat's ass were surprising for you, to say the least. . . . I can only hope you discovered the shots after you finished the delicious spinach dip - Houston's signature item. If you did not, you have my apologies as well as my camera."

Snagged from Uffish Thoughts--if you've never noticed her short "browsing to-do list" over on the left-hand sidebar, I highly recommend it whenever you need a break from grading.

Sunday morning coffee blogging


posted by bitchphd
Through the ongoing wonder that is my sitemeter stats, I found this blog entry: it's another anecdote about public parenting, far more moving, I think, than my own bras-in-Macy's story. It also illustrates something I wanted to point out about the discussion so far: most of what we're considering the hallmarks of "good parenting"--and I include myself in this--is really middle-class parenting, actually. Poor kids still play in the street and walk to and from school by themselves, a lot more than middle-class kids. People who work minimum-wage jobs don't have the luxury of refusing to show up for meetings because they have to pick the kids up from school. Single parents (who tend, for obvious reasons, to be poor) don't have partners to entertain the kids while they shop, or to leave the kids with when they go out, so they take the kids everywhere, which believe you me tends to make you extremely frazzled and impatient and, yes, rude--to kids and strangers alike. Kids who are autistic, or have developmental disabilities or behavioral problems, or whose families are under stress (someone died, someone got laid off, they've had to move recently, mom's depressed) are often way more likely to act "weird" or "bad" in public, and it has nothing to do with the quality of parenting they're getting, which is usually superhuman.

So with those caveats in place, and acknowledging up front that I'm nicely middle class (both mentally and money-wise), and that I only have one very bright and mildly anxious (i.e. conscientious and very easy to reason with) little boy who has had the incredible good fortune to have been surrounded, in his formative years, by extremely doting adults who mostly didn't have kids of their own, so that he is very confident and at ease with grownups and grownup activities--with those things in mind, I'll try to lay out my theories about "parenting today" and how it differs from "parenting when we were growing up," in a little bit.

In the meantime, though, I need my coffee, and I need to tackle the grading of six HUNDRED informal response papers (2/week) that I've let pile up because I am the World's Worst Teacher. Those of you who are looking for something, anything to do other than your own grading might do worse than to check out the blogroll, where I've been silently adding new folks. Like these other academic parents: academom who doesn't update a lot, obviously because she is a better mom and academic than I am; miss teacher, who's been on my blogroll since the beginning, but as she teaches special ed (this is her first year), and is a mom herself, I wanted to point her out; daddyzine, who is a stay-home dad to a professorial wife, like Mr. B., and who writes hilariously philosophical stuff about parenting; Mother in Law who is a law student (ed: not quite. "Law student wanna-be"; her words) and a mother. There are a lot of other parenting academics on my blogroll, but these are the new ones.

There's other new stuff too--check it out. Apparently there's another Dr. B. in the blogverse! How did I not know this, especially since she's not anonymous and is therefore a real Dr. B., whereas I am only pretending. I think that Bicyclemark's Communique has pretty pictures and a good voice and he updates regularly; some of you already know Doctor Daisy, but have you explored the complex layers of her blog? There's a lot of 'em, poke around some; on & on is a good-looking blog, and he's an academic type, and he also links to old-school hip-hop videos you can download, if you like music as well as words.

Ok, so, coffee in hand, it's probably time to grade. Sigh.

Saturday, October 02, 2004

Pseudonymous kid, are you reading my blog?


posted by bitchphd
PK, at dinner, completely out of nowhere: "Sometimes I am embarrassed to laugh in public"
Me, incredulous: "What? Why?"
Him: "Because I am embarrassed to laugh in buildings or restaurants."
Me: "Why?"
Him: "Because there's no yelling in restaurants, and maybe people or waiters might put me in jail."

At which I assured him that waiters certainly will not put him in jail for laughing.

Uncanny, man. Maybe he's psychic or something.

(And no, he cannot yet read.)

Insight for the weekend (in imitation of Dr. Crazy)


posted by bitchphd
If I didn't have to sleep, it wouldn't be so hard to manage:

Pseudonymous kid
Mr. B.
Three boyfriends
One fuckbuddy
A neglected cat
A blog
Two courses, one of which is a lecture with 200 students in it
Grading
An independent study
Writing an article
Writing a conference paper
Putting together two conference panels
Submitting a major grant proposal
Writing two book proposals
Working on one of the books
Meetings, meetings, and more meetings

Ironically, the things that are most disposable seem to be the things I spend most time on. Which today I think shows that I am desperately grabbing for time to be selfish, rather than that I am obviously not cut out for this academic thing.

It's not the kids, it's the parents


posted by bitchphd
This seems to be the emerging consensus on the "kids who behave badly in public" thing, and--in a spirit, perhaps, of toddleresque perversity--I want to register my discomfort with it.

Let me start by saying that yes, of course it is parents' responsibility to raise and teach their kids, and to monitor how the kids behave in public. And yes, there is such a thing as really shitty parents. Keep both of those in mind as you read the rest, 'kay?

Here's the "but" part. As a parent--and a very good one, with a very well-behaved, "easy" child--I have found that some of the worst parenting I do is done in public. By "worst" parenting, I mean parenting that is not only completely disrespectful of what I know about the best ways to teach and care for my own particular kid's particular personality, but also parenting that is (because it doesn't do those things) ineffective. So, for example, pseudonymous kid has a healthy sense of self-respect, and if he's manhandled, he'll yell. We've encouraged this, in fact: if we're roughhousing and he says, "get off me" or "stop" we do, immediately. People's bounds should be respected, and no means no, and I'm raising a boy, and I want him to know that if someone is doing something to him that he doesn't like he has the right to yell no and that if someone else yells no, that means knock it the fuck off. What he does respond to, in terms of discipline, is my anger: if I get down on his level and say to him, "what you are doing is making me VERY ANGRY and I want you to stop it RIGHT NOW," he will.

So far so good. But sometimes, in telling him that what he is doing is pissing me off, there is a little bit of argument: "but mama, I am frustrated because that person interrupted me!" (Adults do interrupt children, all the time.) Me: "I understand, but you are to stop yelling NOW" (because pseudonymous kid's reaction to being interrupted, like most people's, is to raise his voice). Now, in public, let's say we are dining in a restaurant and he is behaving himself. Some nice person stops by our table and says, "aren't you a well-behaved little boy! How old are you?" and pseudonymous kid starts to answer, "well, I am four and a half, but really I am almost five, and my birthday is coming up soon, and I want to have a party with a cake that looks like a train, because I really like trains," and the adult--who was only making momentary small talk and really does not want to hear this little kid diatribe--interrupts him at "five," and says, "oh, five? My that's a good age. Are you in kindergarten?" Pseudonymous kid is at an age where being respected is really important, developmentally, and he hasn't yet learned to suppress the irritation we all feel at being interrupted. Plus, he's probably going to be a massive geek when he grows up, one of those people who drive you nuts going on and on about Star Trek, and so he does tend to go on and on, I fear. I'm trying to teach him not to do that, but he comes from a long line of verbose geeks on his father's side, and it's an uphill battle.

Anyway, so pseudonymous kid starts to raise his voice: "No, I am NOT five! I said I am ALMOST five! Don't interrupt me!" And suddenly here he is, "yelling" in a restaurant. And I am very, very aware--as all parents are--that there are a lot of people out there who, every time a little kid is in their presence, are just waiting for the kid to do something that proves that all kids are brats. And I am, myself, extremely hung up on things like manners (which is one reason that pseudonymous kid, in fact, has good ones), and I also get uncomfortable when (a) people yell in public; and (b) people think that I or my child am behaving badly.

So. Instead of handling this the right way, which is to hold up one hand to the interrupting lady and say, "I'm sorry, he wasn't quite finished with his sentence yet," and then to say to pseudonymous kid, "Pseudonymous kid, I know you don't like to be interrupted, but it is very rude to yell at people" (his probable response: "but it is rude to interrupt!") "yes, I know, but even so, you need to lower your voice immediately because we are in a restaurant." This would work. But instead of doing that, I am likely to say, "I'm sorry, excuse me" to the rude lady who interrupted pseudonymous kid mid-sentence and grab pseudonymous kid HARD and say to him "stop yelling RIGHT NOW." Which, even if I am whispering, makes a scene. And which isn't fair to pseudonymous kid, who quite rightly thinks that the original rudeness was Ms. Nice Lady's (and who is therefore likely to argue, rather than shutting up--because now his mama, too, is being rude and unfair). Or, if I grab him and hustle his ass out, that makes a scene too, and it might also make him start yelling even more about how it's not fair, he wasn't being bad! Which really, he wasn't.

There have also been times in department stores, when I needed to do some shopping, and he was running around hiding behind the clothes racks, and YES, I know that is totally obnoxious. And I "should" take him out and do my shopping another day. But, see, I have a demanding job and a kid, and I live in small town central, and today I have come to Big City to shop, and this is the first and only chance I've had to be in a department store in two months, and I damn well need some new bras. So again, knowing that everyone in the store hates me and thinks I totally suck and "who takes a little kid bra shopping, I mean really! What a Bad Mother," I grab him and I'm much angrier than his behavior warrants, and I want to smack the shit out of him (I don't, but I want to) and I whisper-yell at him to KNOCK IT OFF. Luckily, in that situation, Mr. B. was there and he and pseudonymous kid went for a walk to another department.

But say I am single, or Mr. B. has taken advantage of our one-and-only shopping trip to try to get a new shirt. This is where people are tempted to smack their kids, to be Bad Parents: because we know that you all hate us, and think that our kids are rotten brats, and we desperately want our kids NOT to be "bad" (i.e., imperfect), and we are in a situation where they can't not be bad and you know what? We're good parents, but we are not saints. We want bras too. And so, needing to get our kids to behave IMMEDIATELY, the temptation is to beat them--not because we like to beat our kids, or think it is okay, or even think it works (it doesn't), but because that's the normal human reaction. It's the same reaction the people around us are having, and we know this.

So I think, first of all, that understanding that the social pressure on parents to be perfect at all times, ironically, actually makes us less patient than we would otherwise be: because we live in an impatient society. We aren't stupid. We know that people are impatient with kids (hell, I'm impatient with my own kid sometimes, why wouldn't everyone else be?). So that's the first point, basically a plea not to be so judgmental of the parents who've had to drag the poor kids to Wal-Mart at midnight and end up losing it in the aisles, or the parents who have little kids running around the damn bra department in Macy's. We know it sucks. We're sorry. We'll try to get out of here as soon as we possibly can. If you could bring yourself to flash us a sympathetic look, rather than a dirty one, it might help reduce the panic and anger enough that we'd be able to take a breath and deal with the situation in a much better way for everyone concerned. And hey, if you can't, that's cool too--it's not really your job to be nice to me. But try, for god's sake, to have some manners yourself, and keep your frustration in check. Dirty looks are the grownup equivalent of toddler yelling, and trust me, parents hear 'em both.

(An aside: if society were really family friendly, big department stores would have playrooms where you can drop the kids off. Ikea, for instance, does this. But they don't do it because they are pandering to a society that privileges children: they do it because it is a good business practice, and they want families with kids (i.e., families who can't afford nice furniture), to shop at their store. Ironically, it's often the littler, boutiquey stores--the ones you'd think are more "grownups only" because they don't even sell shit for kids--that are *much* easier for kids to behave well in, especially if the owner is herself a mom and has a basket of toys in the corner for the kid to look at while you try things on.)

Second. I'm sure that some people reading this are thinking, "well, see, that's why you shouldn't take a kid to a restaurant. If he can't deal with people talking to him without yelling, then he's obviously not old enough to be there." But, see, he IS. He can order, he can eat quietly and with minimal mess, he can make polite conversation. But because we live in a society where kids aren't usually around, a lot of adults do not know how to deal with children. Do you go up to total strangers in restaurants and ask their age? No. And if you did, you'd expect them to get a bit ticked. But people do that kind of shit to kids all the time.

In fact, I'll go so far as to say that adults who dislike children are often less of a problem than adults who like kids, but aren't familiar with them--because if you hate kids, you tend to leave them alone. So, in fact, I am totally in agreement that the cultural lip service to "oh, children are so cute! Everyone loves them!" is annoying as hell. Because people who are stupid but well-meaning are the ones who do things like talk to strange children--which, actually, I personally think is fine (small talk in public places is, imho, one of the joys of urban life), but they talk to little kids without knowing how to talk to little kids. I.e., that it requires you to be patient enough to try to understand toddler-speak, and to let the kid finish his sentence. Or they'll do crap like pat kids on their heads, which the kid might object to (I know I would). See, it's not always the kids, or their parents. Sometimes it's other people. And the kid who is being a "brat" is actually reacting the way WE OURSELVES want to react when some idiot interrupts us, or patronizes us, or gets in our way, or steps on our toes, or is just generally irritating and being in our space when we want them not to be. And people who aren't around kids much, do not get this.

Which, imho, is a good argument for taking kids places more often. It teaches the kids how to behave and makes for a more inclusive society. It might hopefully help people realize the difference between lipservice about kids and actually being kid-inclusive (totally not the same thing), it gives adults without kids a chance to interact with them and find out that they're neither dolls nor monsters, and--bonus--it also could help make the whole question of whether one wants kids "of one's own" moot. Because if you see kids out and about, then you don't develop the massive illusion that children are like toys that one can "have" and then put away somewhere in a closet and lead a "normal" (i.e., non-kid-including) life. You realize that once you have them, you are stuck with them, and you have to include them in almost everything you do. And maybe, therefore, you realize that not having them is a smart decision, in a lot of ways, and that people who choose to be child-free are not misanthropic monsters. Instead, maybe they can be like aunts and uncles everywhere: enjoying some children, sometimes (which helps give parents a massive, massive break and a chance to recharge), knowing that when the kids start acting up, you can hand them back to their grateful parents (who by the way, having been given a break from the kids, might therefore be able to develop the other parts of our personalities and have something other than kids to talk about next time you see us) and walk away.

Friday, October 01, 2004

wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us


posted by bitchphd
Today I ran into my colleague "Hooker Boots" (I can't find out where I originally posted this, but he's the guy who complimented my "hooker boots" in a meeting once. I like him a lot), I mentioned that so far this year I haven't seen my dream job posted (since I like him, I've told him in confidence that I'm looking). I had a crisis about it, and started trying to talk myself into applying for non-dream jobs, before giving myself a mental smack and reminding myself that moving just for the sake of moving isn't going to fix anything. Stick to the plan: look for the perfect job, and if it doesn't come up, hang out here until it does, or until I decide I can deal with this place after all (i.e., by moving to Big City and commuting), or until I decide that since I can't find an academic job where I want to be and I'm not willing to stay here, I need to look for a different type of job.

So anyway, we were talking about different kinds of jobs and whether or not we'd apply at X State or Y College, and Hooker Boots said, "oh, there's no way you could teach at X state. You're too much of a researcher."

And I went HUH??? Because that's not what I thought when I applied for this job. But then I realized yeah, my primary focus the last year has really been on my research (not that I've neglected my teaching), and my big time struggle is all about finding space to write (which I'm very bad at). And I told Hooker Boots this, and he said, "come on, you've done A and B while I was just managing to get adjusted and find out where the cafeteria is." And I realized that I was holding in my hand as we spoke the final copy of this damn grant application I've been bitching about on and off for the last month or so, and that I actually really want the money because I don't know how I'll write the book without it.

It was weird, that little moment of having someone state something as if it were patently obvious, when you've never seen it yourself.
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(If you'd rather send swag to LeBlanc or Sybil or Ding or Taddy, email them and bug them about setting up their own begging baskets.)


Welcome New Readers
So Wait, You Have a Boyfriend???
Ultimate Bra Post part I
Ultimate Bra Post part II Abortion
Planned Parenthood
Do You Trust Women?
Feminisms (including my own)
Feminism 101 (why children are not a lifestyle choice)
Misogyny In Real Life (be sure and check out the comment thread)
Moms At Work--Over There
Professor Mama
My Other Mom
Moms in the Academy
About the Banner Picture



Archives