Okay.
The Fellowship of the Word Processor that I've been involved with over the past couple of weeks has SHOWN me the way. I have to write. Daily.
So...I am going to extend that idea to photography. I need to take photos every day. Not just snapshots, but composed photographs.
Plan: Project 365--a photo a day for a year. I'm also going to write about each photo a bit.
Plan: Self Portrait 52--a self-portrait a week for a year. And I'm going to write about it.
Isn't this exciting?
I just have to find a way to make Blogger only allow certain people to view photos. I'm trying to go incognita here.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Mad Women
I've recently discovered the AMC series Mad Men. The series is a lot like visiting another country. Everything is strangely familiar yet maddeningly foreign in a way which makes you homesick for even some of the more hellish aspects of home.
When I first started watching the series, I was shocked by the abundance of cigarette smoke and abundance of misogyny--which is arguably more cancerous on a figurative level.
My grandmother was valedictorian of her high school class. I didn't know this until I graduated as one of the valedictorians of my own high school class. Like most women of her generation, she rarely speaks of herself having been raised to put others before her. After her graduation, my grandmother went to secretary school and became a secretary working in Los Angeles in the 1950s. Two generations later, my reward for my diligence and intelligence is a near free ride to UCLA, one of the top public universities in the country. I can't help but wonder what my grandmother thought about her eldest granddaughter's post high school opportunities. She would probably shake her head in a bemused wonder at my generation predilection for public introspection in blogs like these. Two generations and two worlds apart.
I can't help but admire my grandmother for being a woman during this time period. It doesn't matter which character she was most like. She could have been a Peggy, or a Joan, or a Betty.
Again, it doesn't matter. She had to be quiet.
The only thing that I could possibly envy in the life of Mrs. Don Draper from Mad Men would be elements of her wardrobe. And those dresses would never be worth her the life she leads.
Named Elizabeth, often called Betty, nicknamed Birdie by her husband, Mrs. Don Draper is everyone and no one at the same time. She quietly trembles, gossips softly with an air of malicious contempt about a new addition to the neighborhood with her gal pals, calmly attends therapy sessions with an analyst who provides reports to her husband behind her back, and serves fish sticks with a smile all while smoking.
She seems incredibly alone and isolated. Fashionable--but alone.
In one episode she is given an opportunity to re-enter a career in modeling, but she does not realize that she is only being used to get her husband to move to competing ad agency. So when he doesn't make the move, she is told that they are going to go for someone with more of an Audrey Hepburn look. Being more of a Grace Kelly, Betty is clearly bothered by the rejection, but like all good women of the time seems to sweep that sadness/frustration under a rug.
Her chance out of suburbia, albeit to be a model and the epitome of objectification, is extinguished.
The beginning of the episode featured the neighbor's homing pigeons. I didn't need my degree in American Literature and Culture to tell you that those birds would return!
You can destroy a bird's symbolic value with a cage or with a gun. The writers of the show apparently like guns more (I'm not just talking about Chekhov's Gun*), especially guns in the hands of Grace Kellyesque suburban housewives wearing their whisper thin nighties in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of their manicured back yards. She is smoking a cigarette and aiming at the neighbor's homing pigeons. Plot wise, she seems to be getting revenge on her neighbor for threatening to murder her children's dog for going after the precious pigeons. Symbolically, she is trying to bring down the Birdies. If she can't be free, why should they?
I thought of that scene today as I drove home with a screaming five year old in the backseat of my care after a particularly frustrating day at work.
You might think that I might write about the illusory nature of freedom here. But it would be a lie (and--frankly--a bit of a cliche) to characterize freedom as an illusion. We have the freedom to change our lives; we just don't have an easy time doing it. Instead of dealing with the struggle, we opine and whine about how freedom is a joke or an illusion or only for the rich. Betty could change her life, but it would be very, very, very difficult.
What I actually thought about was how fortunate I am to be a woman and a mother today. I have a career and a family. Both carry frustrations. But today is it socially acceptable to vent. Today I can sit down and compose multiple paragraphs about a fictional television show set in the past as a way for me to work out my frustrations about my current reality. My grandmother had no such outlets. Neither did Betty Draper, and she went a wee bit crazy in her backyard.
To conclude: Today was a bad day, but I didn't end up clad in a nightie smoking a cigarette and shooting at pigeons. My bad day was not really that bad of a day.
It is all about perspective. I'm not trapped.
*Do I get points for having a degree in American Literature yet still knowing about Chekhov's gun?
When I first started watching the series, I was shocked by the abundance of cigarette smoke and abundance of misogyny--which is arguably more cancerous on a figurative level.
My grandmother was valedictorian of her high school class. I didn't know this until I graduated as one of the valedictorians of my own high school class. Like most women of her generation, she rarely speaks of herself having been raised to put others before her. After her graduation, my grandmother went to secretary school and became a secretary working in Los Angeles in the 1950s. Two generations later, my reward for my diligence and intelligence is a near free ride to UCLA, one of the top public universities in the country. I can't help but wonder what my grandmother thought about her eldest granddaughter's post high school opportunities. She would probably shake her head in a bemused wonder at my generation predilection for public introspection in blogs like these. Two generations and two worlds apart.
I can't help but admire my grandmother for being a woman during this time period. It doesn't matter which character she was most like. She could have been a Peggy, or a Joan, or a Betty.
Again, it doesn't matter. She had to be quiet.
The only thing that I could possibly envy in the life of Mrs. Don Draper from Mad Men would be elements of her wardrobe. And those dresses would never be worth her the life she leads.
Named Elizabeth, often called Betty, nicknamed Birdie by her husband, Mrs. Don Draper is everyone and no one at the same time. She quietly trembles, gossips softly with an air of malicious contempt about a new addition to the neighborhood with her gal pals, calmly attends therapy sessions with an analyst who provides reports to her husband behind her back, and serves fish sticks with a smile all while smoking.
She seems incredibly alone and isolated. Fashionable--but alone.
In one episode she is given an opportunity to re-enter a career in modeling, but she does not realize that she is only being used to get her husband to move to competing ad agency. So when he doesn't make the move, she is told that they are going to go for someone with more of an Audrey Hepburn look. Being more of a Grace Kelly, Betty is clearly bothered by the rejection, but like all good women of the time seems to sweep that sadness/frustration under a rug.
Her chance out of suburbia, albeit to be a model and the epitome of objectification, is extinguished.
The beginning of the episode featured the neighbor's homing pigeons. I didn't need my degree in American Literature and Culture to tell you that those birds would return!
You can destroy a bird's symbolic value with a cage or with a gun. The writers of the show apparently like guns more (I'm not just talking about Chekhov's Gun*), especially guns in the hands of Grace Kellyesque suburban housewives wearing their whisper thin nighties in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of their manicured back yards. She is smoking a cigarette and aiming at the neighbor's homing pigeons. Plot wise, she seems to be getting revenge on her neighbor for threatening to murder her children's dog for going after the precious pigeons. Symbolically, she is trying to bring down the Birdies. If she can't be free, why should they?
I thought of that scene today as I drove home with a screaming five year old in the backseat of my care after a particularly frustrating day at work.
You might think that I might write about the illusory nature of freedom here. But it would be a lie (and--frankly--a bit of a cliche) to characterize freedom as an illusion. We have the freedom to change our lives; we just don't have an easy time doing it. Instead of dealing with the struggle, we opine and whine about how freedom is a joke or an illusion or only for the rich. Betty could change her life, but it would be very, very, very difficult.
What I actually thought about was how fortunate I am to be a woman and a mother today. I have a career and a family. Both carry frustrations. But today is it socially acceptable to vent. Today I can sit down and compose multiple paragraphs about a fictional television show set in the past as a way for me to work out my frustrations about my current reality. My grandmother had no such outlets. Neither did Betty Draper, and she went a wee bit crazy in her backyard.
To conclude: Today was a bad day, but I didn't end up clad in a nightie smoking a cigarette and shooting at pigeons. My bad day was not really that bad of a day.
It is all about perspective. I'm not trapped.
*Do I get points for having a degree in American Literature yet still knowing about Chekhov's gun?
Saturday, March 21, 2009
No More "Just in Case" Thinking
For too long, I've operated under the "just in case" mentality. I should buy these shoes just in case I have an opportunity to wear them (and ::shocker:: I rarely do have the opportunity). I should buy these because they are on sale now just in case they aren't on sale when I need them (and ::shocker:: I rarely need them). I should keep these books just in case I want to read them again (and ::shocker:: I don't).
For awhile now I have been moving away from this mentality. I know that it is connected with the running in a way.
Running has changed me significantly.
I now have patience. Transformations take time. I can't expect instant gratification or immediate rewards. This patience has allowed to me to see my own power. So many people quickly say that they can't do something because they can't see immediate results. I know that I can do a great many things if I have the time. I once said that I'd never weigh what I weighed when I got married again. I thought it was a lost cause. Now I weigh was I weighed when I was sixteen.
When my current half-marathon training initially called for a tempo run or some speedwork, I was convinced that I couldn't maintain those paces for those distances. But I did. I can do more than I realize.
Every pound that is lost, every mile that is logged, every run that is a little bit faster is just proof that I am powerful and competent in a world where chaos and incompetence appearing to reign supreme gives most of us the feeling of being powerless.
I have self-confidence in myself. I don't need to fear a world of scarcity. I don't need stuff "just in case" something horrible happens. I can make life work. I'm resourceful and intelligent.
Letting go of the "just in case" mentality is not just about the tangible stuff. I don't need to stockpile social capital by being false and fake "just in case" I'll need the person later on. I do no one any favors by kowtowing to ineptitude or enabling others to develop delusions of grandeur just to build social capital.
And I just realized (literally just realized) that I can teach my son to have faith in himself he won't have to live life "just in case." I must teach by modeling it.
(By the way--I blame O Magazine and one of its contributors for giving me the language to discuss what I've noticed about me.)
For awhile now I have been moving away from this mentality. I know that it is connected with the running in a way.
Running has changed me significantly.
I now have patience. Transformations take time. I can't expect instant gratification or immediate rewards. This patience has allowed to me to see my own power. So many people quickly say that they can't do something because they can't see immediate results. I know that I can do a great many things if I have the time. I once said that I'd never weigh what I weighed when I got married again. I thought it was a lost cause. Now I weigh was I weighed when I was sixteen.
When my current half-marathon training initially called for a tempo run or some speedwork, I was convinced that I couldn't maintain those paces for those distances. But I did. I can do more than I realize.
Every pound that is lost, every mile that is logged, every run that is a little bit faster is just proof that I am powerful and competent in a world where chaos and incompetence appearing to reign supreme gives most of us the feeling of being powerless.
I have self-confidence in myself. I don't need to fear a world of scarcity. I don't need stuff "just in case" something horrible happens. I can make life work. I'm resourceful and intelligent.
Letting go of the "just in case" mentality is not just about the tangible stuff. I don't need to stockpile social capital by being false and fake "just in case" I'll need the person later on. I do no one any favors by kowtowing to ineptitude or enabling others to develop delusions of grandeur just to build social capital.
And I just realized (literally just realized) that I can teach my son to have faith in himself he won't have to live life "just in case." I must teach by modeling it.
(By the way--I blame O Magazine and one of its contributors for giving me the language to discuss what I've noticed about me.)
Friday, March 20, 2009
A Proper British Influence
My son is struggling to behave in Kindergarten. Kindergarten is a little bit fascist these days, so I am sympathetic to his outbursts, but I have to be the good parent and encourage proper suburban behavior.
My son's teacher does not have children of her own. This is a strike against her credibility in my eyes.
In our email discussions, she brings up the following:
I find this freaking hilarious. We don't believe in "very polite English dogs" here. We value things like Monty Python and Eddie Izzard. We value dry senses of humor and self-deprecation. Paddington Bear is not our style. Neither is Kipper--the poor man's Paddington bear.
But in all seriousness, she is trying to be nice about the whole thing. I can't blame her. If I taught 20 kids that age, I'd want them zoned out in a blissful ignorant contemplation of all things Kipper as well. It would probably make them easier to control.
My son's teacher does not have children of her own. This is a strike against her credibility in my eyes.
In our email discussions, she brings up the following:
I know he also likes to watch Sponge Bob. An alternative to Sponge Bob would be Kipper. I don’t know if you have heard of it but Kindergartners love the series. Kipper is a very polite English dog that teaches children about friendship skills, good behavior, among many other things. Perhaps you could research more about it and try it with him. It could become one of his incentives for good behavior.
I find this freaking hilarious. We don't believe in "very polite English dogs" here. We value things like Monty Python and Eddie Izzard. We value dry senses of humor and self-deprecation. Paddington Bear is not our style. Neither is Kipper--the poor man's Paddington bear.
But in all seriousness, she is trying to be nice about the whole thing. I can't blame her. If I taught 20 kids that age, I'd want them zoned out in a blissful ignorant contemplation of all things Kipper as well. It would probably make them easier to control.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Geeky, But Well-Rounded
A friend told me today that I the most well-read person he knew. He then corrected himself and decided that I was very well-read and the most well-rounded person he knew. I found this initially laughable.
A hour later I visited a friend's blog and wrote the following comment to her post about being a housewife. After I wrote this comment, I realized that perhaps my friend is right.
This comment alone reference parts of feminist theory, brain chemistry, Christianity, and Buddhism. Goodness.
I am a geek. Clearly.
A hour later I visited a friend's blog and wrote the following comment to her post about being a housewife. After I wrote this comment, I realized that perhaps my friend is right.
Feminist theory is complex.
Part of feminist theory is that women are seen as defective men. For example, women are "too emotional." We never hear that men aren't emotional enough. Women are judged by a male norm. That's what millenia of patriarchy can do.
I think that there NEEDS to be multiple measures and examples of greatness and success. I think that women who are stay at home mothers are amazing. They are a lot tougher than me. I honor their work. However, I want women to have the opportunity to CHOOSE their path. I don't have a daughter. But if I did, I would want her to feel like she had choices and power. I would want her to feel like a subject--not an object. I would want her to do honorable work--whatever form it may take.
I have a son. I want these things for him. If my son were to want to be a stay at home dad, I would feel like I did an excellent job at his mother as long as that is what he chooses to do.
We want our children to have the confidence and competence to fulfill their potential. Rigid gender roles can erode a person's confidence in my honest opinion. Notice I said can. I do not think that rigid gender roles always erode a person's confidence. It all depends on the individual.
The more that I read about hormones and neurotransmitters and their roles in helping to develop personality/temperament, I am further convinced that rigid gender roles can be damaging. DIfferent brains have different balances resulting in different personality characteristics. It really isn't all about the XX or XY chromosomes and/or social upbringing alone. (I'm a geek. Clearly.)
Housewives are amazing. So are social workers. So are waiters. So are teachers. So are engineers. So are writers. I think it all goes back to something that Steve wrote. People should bless their families and the entire human race. Some women need to enter traditionally male field to help bless the human race. And vice versa.
Being Christ-like can take many forms.
Namaste.
This comment alone reference parts of feminist theory, brain chemistry, Christianity, and Buddhism. Goodness.
I am a geek. Clearly.
Monday, March 2, 2009
What You Can Learn from a B Movie Actor
I spend time thinking about hypotheticals THAT WILL NEVER HAPPEN TO ME.
Case in point--daydreaming about having dinner with certain personalities. Some people want to win the lottery. I want to eat a salad while chatting with interesting people. My husband, in a burst of romance, once tried to track down this writer that I adore in the hopes that he would write one paragraph about me. I really want to dine with that guy.
I've always sort of known about Bruce Campbell. I knew about Evil Dead 2 before most people thanks to my speed reading ability and a subscription to Entertainment Weekly from when I was in high school.
But I never really knew much about Bruce Campbell. Not enough to include him on my list of Hypothetical Dinner Dates. I mean he's a just character actor in odd B movies.
And then I heard him on the latest Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me! I am smitten!
This is the sort of person I NEED to be dining with. The man argues that most A movies are really just B movies. According to Campbell, dressing up like a bat in a city called Gotham chasing a guy named The Joke is clearly standard B movie fare. After Campbell deftly segued to Spiderman by referencing the 1950s B movie quality of radioactive spider bites, the host of the program mentioned that Campbell had cameo roles in all three Spiderman films.
Campbell challenged him.
They weren't cameo roles.
They were pivotal roles, he insisted.
He then proves the importance of each character he played. My favorite was his role in Spiderman 2. He played the snooty usher at the theater. Campbell argued that that role was pivotal because it was he who prevented Peter Parker from seeing Mary Jane at the play. He claimed that he played the only character to have ever defeated Spiderman.
Now do you understand why I was smitten?
I think that I need to have dinner with this gentleman. I too often focus on that fact that I am only the snooty usher. I never realize when I defeat Spiderman.
And that is surely worth the price of dinner!
Case in point--daydreaming about having dinner with certain personalities. Some people want to win the lottery. I want to eat a salad while chatting with interesting people. My husband, in a burst of romance, once tried to track down this writer that I adore in the hopes that he would write one paragraph about me. I really want to dine with that guy.
I've always sort of known about Bruce Campbell. I knew about Evil Dead 2 before most people thanks to my speed reading ability and a subscription to Entertainment Weekly from when I was in high school.
But I never really knew much about Bruce Campbell. Not enough to include him on my list of Hypothetical Dinner Dates. I mean he's a just character actor in odd B movies.
And then I heard him on the latest Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me! I am smitten!
This is the sort of person I NEED to be dining with. The man argues that most A movies are really just B movies. According to Campbell, dressing up like a bat in a city called Gotham chasing a guy named The Joke is clearly standard B movie fare. After Campbell deftly segued to Spiderman by referencing the 1950s B movie quality of radioactive spider bites, the host of the program mentioned that Campbell had cameo roles in all three Spiderman films.
Campbell challenged him.
They weren't cameo roles.
They were pivotal roles, he insisted.
He then proves the importance of each character he played. My favorite was his role in Spiderman 2. He played the snooty usher at the theater. Campbell argued that that role was pivotal because it was he who prevented Peter Parker from seeing Mary Jane at the play. He claimed that he played the only character to have ever defeated Spiderman.
Now do you understand why I was smitten?
I think that I need to have dinner with this gentleman. I too often focus on that fact that I am only the snooty usher. I never realize when I defeat Spiderman.
And that is surely worth the price of dinner!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Fighting the Lunch Lady Man
My son received a Notice of Misbehavior this past Friday. The three part NCR form read that "D--- was bothering other students at lunch."
Before I morphed into Mama Bear, I questioned my son to try to figure out what he had done. Lunch lady or teacher on duty (who knows!) used the verb "bothering" which is so ridiculously imprecise! What am I supposed to do with a five year old who isn't sure how he was bothering anyone.
I wrote on the slip of misbehavior that I needed to know exactly what my son did in order to deal with it at home.
Here is the email exchange from today. I've cut and pasted the emails into chronological order. And eliminated names because the internet is like the wild, wild west.
________________
On Jan 26, 2009, at 12:02 PM, Kindergarten Teacher wrote:
Good morning,
I asked Mrs. Bothering what occurred during lunch. She said that “D-- was talking with another student from my class while leaning across the table. She asked both students to stop the behavior but the behavior continued”. Both students received a Pink Slip for that incident.
I know that on this day we had rainy day schedule, which means that the students stay in the cafeteria during their lunch period watching a movie. I know how difficult it is for Kinders to stay quiet during a long period of time, but unfortunately, we have a no talking zone in the cafeteria and the students are only allowed to whisper.
I hope this information helps.
___________________
From: tara incognita
Sent: Monday, January 26, 2009 3:14 PM
To: Kindergarten Teacher
Subject: Re: Notification of Misbehavior
Thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate the details. I'm sure that you can understand my frustration with such a vague word like bother. Bothering can take on so many forms. It is hard as a parent to discuss it with my child when he is struggling to know how he bothered someone. From the details, it seemed as if no "bothering" was occurring. Just two restless kids chatting when they were told not to. This is completely different from bothering in my opinion. No wonder he was confused about how he received the slip.
I agree that it is unfortunate that there is a no talking zone in the cafeteria. No only is it antithetical to the goal of school, but it instills poor eating habits that may contribute to rising rates of obesity in this country. Perhaps those in charge should pick up some research on eating habits and how eliminating the social conversation while eating helps contribute to the rising tide of obesity.
Please don't get me wrong. I want my son to follow the rules, but I also want the schools to act in the better interest of the developing child. My son is very loquacious, social, and kinesthetic. These are not bad attributes to have under other circumstances, but somehow in school--normal boy behavior is seen as defective.
I'm just venting. Please don't misunderstand me. I want my son to behave.
Thanks again!
I do appreciate how you seem to be aware of the developmental needs of the child even if the school policies do not.
tara incognita
_______________
Later that same hour, Kindergarten Teacher responds:
I totally agree with you. Believe me, I did try to let the school know that a Kindergarten student attention span is about 5 minutes and then it is time to stretch, talk, do what ever it takes to get them back to focus. No one cared to listen to me! I have had a staff member’s son who is in my class been given several red slips. It is unfortunate that this is happening.
I am glad that you understand your son’s personally, and that you are willing to help him at home.
Thanks,
Kindergarten Teacher
_________________
Mama Bear wants to fight the man so that kids can TALK AT LUNCH!
Before I morphed into Mama Bear, I questioned my son to try to figure out what he had done. Lunch lady or teacher on duty (who knows!) used the verb "bothering" which is so ridiculously imprecise! What am I supposed to do with a five year old who isn't sure how he was bothering anyone.
I wrote on the slip of misbehavior that I needed to know exactly what my son did in order to deal with it at home.
Here is the email exchange from today. I've cut and pasted the emails into chronological order. And eliminated names because the internet is like the wild, wild west.
________________
On Jan 26, 2009, at 12:02 PM, Kindergarten Teacher wrote:
Good morning,
I asked Mrs. Bothering what occurred during lunch. She said that “D-- was talking with another student from my class while leaning across the table. She asked both students to stop the behavior but the behavior continued”. Both students received a Pink Slip for that incident.
I know that on this day we had rainy day schedule, which means that the students stay in the cafeteria during their lunch period watching a movie. I know how difficult it is for Kinders to stay quiet during a long period of time, but unfortunately, we have a no talking zone in the cafeteria and the students are only allowed to whisper.
I hope this information helps.
___________________
From: tara incognita
Sent: Monday, January 26, 2009 3:14 PM
To: Kindergarten Teacher
Subject: Re: Notification of Misbehavior
Thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate the details. I'm sure that you can understand my frustration with such a vague word like bother. Bothering can take on so many forms. It is hard as a parent to discuss it with my child when he is struggling to know how he bothered someone. From the details, it seemed as if no "bothering" was occurring. Just two restless kids chatting when they were told not to. This is completely different from bothering in my opinion. No wonder he was confused about how he received the slip.
I agree that it is unfortunate that there is a no talking zone in the cafeteria. No only is it antithetical to the goal of school, but it instills poor eating habits that may contribute to rising rates of obesity in this country. Perhaps those in charge should pick up some research on eating habits and how eliminating the social conversation while eating helps contribute to the rising tide of obesity.
Please don't get me wrong. I want my son to follow the rules, but I also want the schools to act in the better interest of the developing child. My son is very loquacious, social, and kinesthetic. These are not bad attributes to have under other circumstances, but somehow in school--normal boy behavior is seen as defective.
I'm just venting. Please don't misunderstand me. I want my son to behave.
Thanks again!
I do appreciate how you seem to be aware of the developmental needs of the child even if the school policies do not.
tara incognita
_______________
Later that same hour, Kindergarten Teacher responds:
I totally agree with you. Believe me, I did try to let the school know that a Kindergarten student attention span is about 5 minutes and then it is time to stretch, talk, do what ever it takes to get them back to focus. No one cared to listen to me! I have had a staff member’s son who is in my class been given several red slips. It is unfortunate that this is happening.
I am glad that you understand your son’s personally, and that you are willing to help him at home.
Thanks,
Kindergarten Teacher
_________________
Mama Bear wants to fight the man so that kids can TALK AT LUNCH!
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