thewritingprofessor55

Creating Memories

Good morning on a cloudy and humid day,

This morning began early 4:23 a.m. to be exact. It seems an aspirin taken to manage a fever last evening decided to raise havoc with my stomach. So after a bit of puttering around the house this morning, including a load or two of laundry, I went to the diner for breakfast. I thought some food might alleviate the upset stomach. No such luck. I am afraid this morning is a harbinger of what is to come. I detest throwing up more than most anything in the world.

I worked on a number of necessary tasks yesterday and today will be more of the same. This afternoon I am meeting with a Lutheran Brotherhood (my old school term)/Thrivent agent to make sure some things are in order. I want to try to make sure that some day I leave no debts or problems for others to have to manage. This past week, the fact that my sister did not do this so well came back to haunt me. It is one of those moments when I am aware that I am almost 60 and then I am trying to figure out how I got this old. I know that 60 is not old, but when I was in my teens or even perhaps my early 20s, it certainly seemed a long ways away.

As those who really know me are aware, I am a process person. I have to figure out how things work and why they work that way. I wish I had answers for some of that now? “Why am I still here?” is one of those questions. I have been told by more than one doctor “you are a miracle”. I have never really felt that miraculous. Perhaps a bit of an anomaly, but that is I guess because I think that I think differently. I have been trying to figure that out. How and why did that happen? I think merely trying to live each day as a someone who wanted to make some small difference kept me most often from thinking about who I was or what I was about. I don’t really think most of us are that different. We merely go about our lives.

That brings me to my focus (the title of today’s post). Some of my earliest memories are of my grandparents and living at their house as a little boy. The best memory is of breakfast and soft poached eggs, a half of grapefruit, and a piece of some kind of toast (from the various bread options from her bakery). What is perhaps the most important memory or realization of my living at or visiting my grandmother’s house was that she loved me, and she loved me regardless. I am still amazed by her capacity to love and give. She, in spite of her difficulties, never quit giving. I remember the summer I lived at her house between my junior and senior year of high school. I think I grew up more that summer than I have actually realized. I worked at the bakery from 5:00 or 5:30 in the morning until about 3:00 in the afternoon. Then I went to a second job and worked from 5:00 in the evening until midnight or so . . . and I did that 6 days a week. It is actually one of my favorite summers. I was all of 16 years old and I never felt like I was working too hard or had it rough. I bought my first car and I learned that hard work was an okay thing. I am not sure I always remembered those lessons as well as I might have.

In my elementary and into middle school (as they call it now) years, I think my best memories are being in the Sioux City Children’s Community Theatre and in the Sioux City Children’s Choir. A fellow member of both groups was a girl named Miriam Oesper. I thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. She was the first person to kiss me. I was so amazed and frightened. She was an amazing person. I still remember her birthday (March 3rd). Her family moved to Des Moines (Urbandale to be exact) and I never saw her again. I did actually catch up with her by email a few years ago. Amazing how the memories and even the feelings of she must be wonderful were still there somehow. However, unlike some I know, if it is in the past, it is probably best to leave it there. There was also another person from that group and her name was Carolyn Wayman. She was another person I found to be wonderful: smart, funny, and beautiful. I have wondered from time to time about many of those theatre persons. I realize that experience was more important to me than I ever imagined.

When I came home from the service, there are memories, and perhaps the most important one immediately was meeting the Peters family. David and I still communicate until this day. His sister, Barb, was the first person I might have really loved. I remember this picture of her (it was a school picture) with the most amazingly beautiful long hair. I can still see it clearly. I also learned an important lesson to never like your best friend’s sister. However, emotions are seldom rational. There are certainly memories from beyond high school and into college and other places, but they sometimes seem to blur together and I am not sure that there is something that really jars my memory or emotions the same way. Perhaps my trip to Europe with Dr. Nielsen during the January interim class of 1981. Interestingly, again, when I think about the events, there are so many things that flood back . . . . Lutheran Youth Encounter (LYE) team, summer Greek class, East Germany, Oberammergau, Denmark, Garmisch Partenkirken, meeting biological relatives, college, graduate_school). Over the past week, I have connected with my cousin to chat about things. I noted her in my last post. She has been kind and texted me almost every day since our talk last week. She noted that I am the one who really understands her. She is one of the few who has always accepted me. The memories . . . Grandpa’s, Firefall, The Marina, the white Buick Regal or the green Cadillac.

As I noted, I have a number of tasks to try to manage today and some time will be spent in my office organizing and getting things off my plate. I also have to go to the bank and get some more things managed there. I am merely hoping for a productive day. Over the weekend I had the opportunity to spend Memorial Day with Mr. and Mrs. Galán. I had the most wonderful food and the greatest conversation on a number of levels. At one point, Mrs. Galán and I spoke for about 45 minutes. She does not really speak English, though I think she understands more than most might think. My Spanish is nascent at best, but we were able to communicate and understand each other for the most part. It was actually quite amazing and it created another important memory for me. It meant a lot for me because it required me to use my beginning skills, but I hope that she realized how important I believe she is also. Too often I believe she is marginalized because of the language issues and that is not acceptable for me.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to create another memory. It was unplanned, but it was poignant. Muchas gracias por los 45 segundos en la mesa y la mirada en su cara. Gracias por sus palabras y sus rasgones. Soy bendito usted está aquí. Nunca olvidaré. Well, it is time to do some work. Thank you for reading and for those who have commented, thank you also. I am fortunate you are in my life.

Michael

Beset by Irony

Good evening,

As I write this there is a group of students working on their Odyssey of the Mind project in the next room. I have watched the movie, The Last Samurai, for the umpteenth time, but it is a movie that inspires me. It inspires me to work to be a better person and to be someone who digs deep to try to improve. I wish I had the discipline that those amazing men must have had. I guess my being in the Marine Corps offered some of that. It is interesting that the Marines talk about honor, discipline and tradition. Once before I wrote about the Japanese group of warriors called Samurai. They have a code by which they lived called Bushido. It was based on principles and those principles , or that code, is something that I wish I could adhere to better than I do. These eight virtues are still the principles of Japanese culture in the 21st century. There is something to be said for a code of life based on honor and respect. To live a life of rectitude and loyalty is quite admirable. It is actually the respect the movie seems to have for the Japanese culture that most resonates with me. I am not a huge Tom Cruise fan, but I must admit there are times in this movie I respect how he goes about his craft. His work to use the Japanese language and demonstrate a sense for the Samurai culture was impressive. There is a scene at the end of the movie after the final battle, where Algeran (Cruise’s character) presents the sword of the Samurai leader to the emperor. The emperor, realizing some important cultural issues at hand, asks Algeran to tell him how this amazing warrior (played excellently by Ken Wanatabe) died. Algeran answers, “I will tell you how he lived.” Such an important statement. It is not who we are, it is much more about how we have conducted our lives that is important. Those who have children leave more than heirs, they leave examples of their life. We are the products of the lessons we have been taught.

I have thought about that a lot lately. What do we leave behind. As I noted in an earlier post, if I have no children have I lost out on a legacy? Yes, perhaps in the most profound way, but I do hope that things I have taught in my classes has an influence. I do believe I have had an important influence on at least one of my nephews or nieces. I am relatively confident that I have. I was once told if you profoundly influence 3 or 4 other people in your life you were successful. I am not sure I can claim that, but I would like to believe I have made some difference in the lives of my students. I have been told that my classes are difficult, but that when a student walks out of my class knowing that they learned something of importance. I think of it as he or she got the education they have paid for. This is important, especially when the cost of an education has become so prohibitive for many. The amount of debt they will carry for the next twenty years or more is substantial. What has a person learned in the time they are in college. It is certainly more than what their books offer. It is my hope they have begun to understand who they are and why what they do matters. So many are focused on only the piece of paper. College is so much more. Life is so much more.

So much of my life I have worried about what others thought or about what others wanted me to do. I am confronted with choices once again, but they are choices of consequence. They are choices of eternity, and again I can hear my colleague Dr. Lee arguing that idea with me. I have to decide the best course of action to take. I spoke with my cousin today. She is one of the couple people I trust implicitly. She is a person I love deeply. She is a person who has cared for me almost 2/3s of my life. She is a nurse in California. She has been there for me on two other occasions and I remember crying with her on the phone. Today there was a third time and she was as supportive and caring as she has always been. It meant a lot to hear her words. She is a wise woman and she has been through a lot, but in her own words, her plate is large and she can handle a lot. I am grateful for her counsel. While I have not made a final decision about the course of action I will take, I am certainly leaning toward a particular course. It is a course that allows me to take charge of my life. It is a choice that allows me to move forward with my own understanding of dignity.

What I know is I have a lot to accomplish yet and I will work diligently and intentionally to accomplish those things. I wonder what it might be to have some small measure of peace, a peace that I believe “we all seek, but few of us ever find” (The Last Samurai). I wish at times I was a better person, a more profound and intelligent person, a person who made some significant difference, but I know such ideas are a bit foolhardy. They are selfish and self-serving. I do believe I am merely a person who found his way into the world, a bit by accident when you consider my beginning. I am a person who has defied death in, through, or by my very birth. That along with some of the other things that have occurred merely remind me of the blessings I have received so many times and in so many ways. I am still blessed. I have friends, and I have a family, albeit an unexpected one. I have my extended family and I have amazing colleagues and a great place to work. All of those things together give me much more than many have.

I am not exactly sure what the next weeks and months will bring and, again, I am not sure what my decision about these newest issues will be. I will have to ponder and process. I am good at that. I am pretty comfortable pondering and wondering about the “what if” questions. As I have noted, that has always been part of my life. It will continue to be so. The picture is of me a few weeks before I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, which eventually turned out to be Crohn’s. It is one of the last “pre-IBD” pictures I have. My hair was certainly a different color back then.

As always, thanks for reading.

Michael

Laughing at Mistakes

Good Monday evening,

I am in my study after a rather random weekend. As I noted in the last post, I did attend the Art Garfunkel concert Saturday night. While I went by myself, I did find out that another person I knew was headed to the concert also and she and her friend actually sat almost directly in front of me, we did catch up afterwards for a cup of coffee and a nice conversation. The concert was very nice, rather intimate, and, unfortunately, a bit short, but in spite of its length, it was certainly worth the time and the money. I still remember the first time I was listening with regularity to Simon and Garfunkel. I was in late elementary school or junior high and I had the Bridge over Troubled Water album. I think I had every track memorized and it is one of those albums that instantly puts me back into the time in my life. I think I was out of the service and back in Sioux City and I bought the Breakaway album, which is the only Garfunkel album I think I ever purchased, but, once again, I think I had every track on the album committed to memory. I think Art Garfunkel might have one of the purest voices I have ever heard.

While I was, at least, vaguely aware that he had suffered a vocal chord paresis a few years ago, I guess I did not really consider that fact when I found tickets available. I will say that his voice has certainly lost some of that phenomenal quality that I remember, it was still quite amazing and a combination of his songs, the songs made famous by the duo, and the intimate setting of just him and an acoustic guitar was quite impressive. What I did not realize what how important poetry was to him. I guess it makes sense as a song writer, but what he did throughout the concert was to interject the reading of one of his poems. There were two interesting elements here. First, each poem seemed to be scribbled on a business size mailing envelope; and second, the poetry was very good. It was always introduced to provide some context and then he would just read it.

There was a certain vulnerability in his work both in that fact that his voice was not what it once was and that he shared such personal insights through his poetry. At one point that vulnerability took on a different aspect when he was in the middle of a song and he forgot the lyrics. It was rather amazing as well as a bit amusing. As someone who once did his own guitar and vocal gig, I know of this difficulty. That is why I always had the lyrics in front of me. I had no doubt that I would forget something and look monumentally foolish. He was about a third or more through the song and, at first it seemed that he had merely missed the timing and as such an entrance into a next verse. He got a bit of a puzzled look on his face, but soon that look became ever more concerned. After 45 second or so, he got up off the stool upon which he was sitting and looked at the crowd and simply spoke, “I forget the words.” Everyone clapped and was gracious as was Gunfunkel himself. It was quite amazing to see such a famous person with 50+ years on the stage forget lyrics, but it also made it more real and honest. All-in-all, it was a very enjoyable and nostalgic evening.

As I noted in the title, I think it is necessary to be able to laugh at our mistakes. Perhaps more importantly, it is necessary to be able to admit them. If we learn from our failures, I am not convinced they should be called mistakes. I think they are learning moments or life’s lessons, and yet I hesitate to use those terms because they seem cliche. Yet, if we learn from our mistakes or take things in a different direction because of them, then they are still a positive thing. Perhaps we need to see them as strengths and weaknesses, but more importantly we need to be able to not only admit them, but be comfortable with them. Can we be comfortable in our own skin? Most often, I think the answer to that question, which is not intended to be merely pondered, is “no”. We are not comfortable when we feel that something reflects less than brightly or positively upon us. The consequence is we hide behind our frailties and our seeming inadequacies, most often afraid to consider or confront them. We ignore the things we should perhaps most often ponder and when we perceive someone else is pondering those things about us we either become defensive, soon to be followed by angry, or we merely avoid and run away. The consequence of that is a lot of unnecessary pain.

I spent more than an hour on the phone with a student about whom I care deeply this morning. At the end of two semesters and a summer in college, because of remedial work, he has less than a semesters-worth the credits and that GPA is abysmal. To go along with that he has probably 15K worth the debt, and people are trying to convince him he needs to come back to college. Certainly there are other factors that play into those decisions, but what is fair to the student? What is possible for this student? Who decides? Who will be honest with the student? Too many times, I believe the academy is selfish and self-centered. They receive financial aid for a student, but is the student really capable of doing the work? I think it is unconscionable and it is certainly not ethical. Of course, there are the stories or the reasons given for less than stellar grades. Too often it is everyone’s fault except the student. What a crock!! I know this all too well from my own beginning semesters of college. I was pretty damn worthless, at least as far as my performance as a student. I remember being sent home. It was something that needed to happen. In speaking with another person yesterday, we chatted about falling on our noses and then picking ourselves back up. That is an important thing to learn. It is such a fine line and it is different for each person. How much do you help and when do you allow them to fall? I am not comfortable with the one-size-fits-all approach, but it is something that most need to learn. Again, can you laugh at those learning moments, those AFGEs, as we called them in seminary? That acronym stands for “another F$*()$ growing experience”.

Well, today is the first day of my summer and I am working on a schedule and a plan for the weeks. The relaxation I spoke of in my last post is something to ponder for another time. I do want to build in some down time each day and I still have plans for the summer. However, another option has presented itself over the weekend that I want to manage. I am working through that at the moment. More on that as it transpires. I am not sure what I even have here today, but I do know that the weekend concert was a really significant event for me. It brought back childhood memories; it reminded me of our humanness and how we often take things for granted. No voice when you are a singer is an issue and Art Garfunkel picked himself up and did not quit. There is a lot to say about that. It is always interesting when we are hit with things that create substantive changes or require us to carefully consider our humanity.

Thanks as always for reading.

Michael

When does one relax?

Hello from my office,

I have finished grading for the semester and turned in those grades, I have managed a couple of items that need to be managed to get ready for the summer and I actually have a bit of time where I could relax (whatever that means) and perhaps merely take some downtime. However, as soon as I consider such a prospect, I feel guilty. Why is that? Why is it not okay to take some time for myself? Is it because I struggle with ever doing things well enough? Is it because I generally feel that there is so much more that I “should” be doing? These are larger questions, and while they are related to the simpler questions or necessary things at the moment, they certainly do inform the larger questions of when have I done enough? What is enough? Who decides? I do feel like I should be getting even more organized and doing more work. Perhaps it is because sometime I merely seem to putz around with things. I get little things accomplished, but nothing of substance. I must admit, getting my tenure work done second semester was more than something small, but I just about had a meltdown doing that. Is it because I am older and I do not feel like I have as much time left?

I was chatting a bit about retirement the other day, but I am not even sure what I think about such a possibility. I told them I would probably drive myself crazy sitting around. I got at least a taste of that the fall of 2012 when I was on a medical leave from school. I realize the bigger issue for me is simply priorities. I need to get certain things done and it is not a question of if: it must be done; second it is not a question of when: it is now. That pretty much prioritizes it. I think there is a certain irony because that task or need of which I am speaking is that I need to write. I am, of course, ironically, writing here, but it is the sort of writing that is about publication. I do have some things done, but I feel so inadequate about the quality of them. I am feeling better about the one about the program because I do believe that there are things there that set the professional writing program here and the process apart from most other programs. It has been pretty successful and I think that is because I have amazing support in the department and at the college level. I think that actually goes up to the Provost’s office, but I think it is a really significant thing.

As I have been working in my office this morning, once again I have been checking things off the list. One of the things I did was write a recommendation for a former student, a long-past former student. She is actually going back to the very program I was in. She is one of the most outstanding students I have ever known and I did not even have her in class. However she hung out with a number of the graduate students in the RTC program and she was exceptionally intelligent, and it did not hurt that she had an amazing wit and a total sense of irreverence. It was really a joy to write that recommendation. Sometimes we get asked to write ones that are a bit more difficult. I am always pleased when really committed students do well. I get almost as much out of their success as they do. That happened with another student this week as grades have come out. Dean’s List is no small accomplishment and with only a bit more hard work, I believe that graduating with honors should certainly be attainable. I did not do that in my undergraduate. I was close, but a Physiology and Anatomy course, which was a med school weed out course, and one which I took for “something to do”, doomed that chance for me. While I do not really regret it now, I sure did at the time.

I remember once telling a counselor that I double-majored, double-minored, worked 20 hours a week, did not do summer school and graduated in four years with a 3.74 (we needed a 3.75 for honors) and he asked if I thought that was normal. I said, “certainly.” He said, “probably not.” I did not think about it as any sort of abnormal thing, it was merely what I needed to do to accomplish what I had set out to do. Graduating with a major in History/Humanities and a minor in German/Religion was a far cry from thinking about working cutting hair once upon a time. I think of Lee and Judy Swenson in Newton, Iowa, my first host family when I was on the Lutheran Youth Encounter team. It has been an interesting journey since that summer of 1978. Interestingly, one of their children, who was four when I first met her is now a college professor also.

I guess the more important thing for me is to figure out how to manage the life I have. What happens when we find we are older than we thought (whatever that means)? What is old again? I have begun to believe Lydia is old, but I do not think I will ever make it to 90. I am not sure I want to do that seeing what I have saw over the past 3+ years. What I have had to ponder again is how do I manage the life I have. I have been told many times I am a miracle from the beginning I had. I guess that is true. But when it is your life, you merely manage what you have. When you learn things about your background or your life that have long-term consequences, it might be easy to blame or be angry, but I learned long ago that such anger is really bitterness and I have no time for such behavior.

I do hope to relax some or at least do some things I want to do this summer. I think this will be important for me. I was thinking about the movie, Bucket List, a couple of times lately. I have never really considered the need to make such a thing and I still don’t, but I do want to live without regretting things. I think that is why some of the changes in my life as of late are so important to me. If you have been reading for sometime, you know that I am learning yet another language (which I want to be fluent in yesterday), I have taken some chances with people and have been more blessed than I could have anticipated. It is a bit surprising to me how the meeting of people can make such a profound change, but I think it has been a good change. It is something like the change that Bloomsburg brought from Stout. I have said in the past three for four years maybe my reason to go to Menomonie was not to work at Stout, but rather to meet and care for Lydia. While Stout certainly prepared me for Bloomsburg, maybe the reason I came back to PA was because of the Decker family. Maybe it was about teaching in the summer where I think I have had some of the most profound effect on some students who questioned whether or not they were “college material.” Well, if someone comes here with even an average ability, if he or she works hard, it can be accomplished. Some might need more help than others, but there is a lot that can be accomplished with the correct situation and support.

Next week I have some doctor’s appointments along the second half of gum surgery. Before you shudder too much, the first half of the surgery was not too terrible. I am doing a laser process with the acronym of LANAP. It is pretty amazing. The biggest difficulty is merely managing only liquids and soft food for two weeks. More weight will magically disappear. Not a bad thing. Well, hard to believe it is Friday. Tomorrow night I am going to see Art Garfunkel. I am quite excited by that. Unfortunately, no food, but I am looking forward to the evening and the concert. All in all, things are reasonable. While I am not totally relaxing, I am not sure I know what that means. I’ll work on it over the weekend. Thank you as always for reading.

Michael

Carente de Sentido Común

Good Morning,

It has been a long few days since I last posted. Late last week I made a quick (and somewhat brutal) trip to Wisconsin and back. I made it 2000+ miles in about 66 hours (and 36 hours of not really driving). The trip there was not that bad, but the last two hours of the return trip that was not the case. I had to stop at two rest stops and wash my face and try to remain coherent. A couple of rumble strips and a realization or two that I think my eyes had closed sufficiently frightened me. I tried to call one person who told me I could check in with him, but got no answer. Texts, of course, do not really work, so that did not really help me. Some would question whether I resemble the title of my blog, but sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. By the time I got home on Saturday evening my body was literally shaking and I could not make it up my steps to the bedroom. I actually rested in the chair in my living room for an hour or so before I could get my legs to work. I think that is the closest I have been to total exhaustion in a very long time. Amazing how once upon a time I thought road trips were fun. Perhaps there is some wisdom in my deteriorating brain even in its exhaustive state. Unfortunately, this also took its toll on my body in other ways. Three bags of fluids this time and, unfortunately, blood work revealed some larger issues. I was trying to get into the gastroenterologist in the near future. I guess I will get in a bit sooner. That is positive.

While I was in Wisconsin I was confronted by the consequences of health and aging in yet another dramatic fashion. There were more times than not (for the first time) that Lydia did not really know me nor was she cognizant of my presence, even though I was sitting right next to her. On a positive note, she did recognize me when I walked in on Friday. However, when the later events happened that day, I actually had to walk away because I began to cry. I have known this day is coming, but the reality of it for more than a moment was difficult for me to manage. I am always amazed that the students who do not really take the time to know me believe I am just a “hard ass” merely because I want them to do their work. What they do not realize is how much a really do care about most everything. As two of my non-traditional students at MTU once said, I am a smoosh. The second issue was all of Lydia’s property and the maintaining of all of it, which is my legal duty. I have tried to work with it in a way that I believed to be prudent and careful. I have allowed people to put in security and other things, which seemed reasonable, but most of it is not working as optimally as I want or believe it should for the money invested. It is not my area of expertise and the failure of it working or being managed is frustrating to me. I also understand that that management requires on-site work and that is not always easy. Then there is the maintaining of the house on a daily basis. I am too kind and willing to be put on the back burner than I should be. Then I end up angry, both at the situation and at myself. If I actually did follow through on some things I am afraid people would really think I am a jerk.

Another frailty that I was made aware of again is my nephew who is struggling with some health issues. He is the second of the five to have significant health issues. Both he and his older brother (while their issues are very different) struggle and will struggle with for the remainder of their lives. For the elder nephew, it is an issue of maintaining a sense of health with a device. I actually understand that more than he realizes, and as noted a the previous paragraph, I continue to fight it. Sometimes I get tired, and there are always questions about how to fight or combat. There is also the option to no longer fight and, at moments, even that seems like a reasonable option. Perhaps I say that because I am content with my life and believe I have accomplished most of what I hoped to do. Of course, there is the question of what do we set out to do? Do we even know? Is there some grand plan about what makes someone successful or not? Do we reach a point where we merely will allow what is to happen merely happen because it is the best plan? That is not to say that we should not plan or work with the cards we are dealt. In fact, I set up the appointment at the attorney this morning. I will have my ducks-in-a-row. Before you think I am being fatalistic, not completely . . . . more realistic. I still have plans and I still have hopes and dreams.

Yet that brings me to the third of the things that happened while I was in Wisconsin. Over the past 10 years, both Lydia and I have worked with a particular contractor regarding concrete and stonework. I have had another project on the back-burner with him for more than a year and I called him while driving back on Saturday. What I got on the other end of the phone call to the question of “how are you?” totally blew me away. He responded, “Do you really want to know?” and I answered, “Yes.” His response was that his 48 year old wife had passed way about 10 days before. I was stunned. In spite of all the time I had spent with him over the years, it was always professional and not personal. I did not know that his wife was both a firefighter and paramedic for the Eau Claire, Wisconsin Fire Department. In the spans of barely over two months, she went from becoming ill to dying of colon cancer (http://www.leadertelegram.com/blogs/christena_obrien/article_d75bfc38-d61d-11e3-a306-0019bb2963f4.html). I know this disease and I know what it does. While many can manage it with reasonable testing, when it occurs like this, there is little that can be done. When it ravages a body that is already compromised from an IBD or something, it is a very different animal. I am so sorry for Greg and his and her family. Yet, it reminds me again that our time is limited. We really do not know what lies around that next corner.

I think that is why I have tried to live my life to the fullest I can. While I have not really thought that much about it, as I ponder now I realize that I have been blessed in so many ways, from places and people, from experiences and opportunities, from the love and care of others. To each of you who have played a significant role both in the past or now . . . . simply, thank you. I am grateful and I am looking forward to more times to continue to create my own personal quilt or picture. I think that is my understanding of sentido común. While some might believe me to be lacking this essential element (and my father said that it was neither), I do believe realizing who we are and what we have is perhaps the most profound understanding of it.

Thanks for reading.

Michael

Another Semester ~ Another Year

Good evening from the corner of my study in Bakeless,

It has been one of the more eventful weeks I think I have had in a while. A week ago I was headed to Hazleton, where I ended up spending the night with my adopted family. I had the opportunity to share some important information with them and then was asked to spend the night. I had a Dominican breakfast last Saturday morning that was amazing. I spent the next morning shopping and going to a Latino Farmers Market. I got to practice my Spanish pronunciation by merely trying to name all the fruits and vegetables, meats and cheeses, Batata, Yuca, (of which I think I have both the sweet and the bitter) and some squashes. The rest of the weekend and into the middle of the week was taken up with three things: working on my tenure application, grading students work and managing daily class requirements, and working with my mentees (of which there are three formal ones and a couple more more informal ones). All in all it was a busy week. In fact, all of this seems much longer than a week ago.

I am always amazed when the end of the academic year arrives because regardless of how prepared I am, I never seem ready. This semester I walked into the semester more prepared than ever before. I spent days getting ready for what was coming and about 5 weeks into the semester, I felt like I was hanging on by my fingernails again. I am still not sure how that happens (at least I am not completely aware of how). I actually spoke with colleagues about it this semester and I got some interesting replies . . . and while I know there is truth in what they tell me, I am not sure how I can actually change some of that. Perhaps the most insightful statement one colleague made about it was “I need to quit holding their hands.” I think this might be the most helpful comment. It is actually an important part of who I am, but I need to rethink that. Can I moderate it and not lose who I am? I have actually had to work on that in another way, and the insight that I have been required to consider from their observations has been a struggle. It is something I am working on, but it requires me to take a fundamental part of who I am and make changes. If I am going to be completely honest, I think their evaluation is correct, but figuring out how to change it or make it more appropriate is going to be a process.

As I spend the majority of the weekend in my office putting together supporting materials, grading, and working on other projects, it will need to be tremendously productive, but I know I can do that. I do believe I might have to take a ride on the Harley today. That is a way that I actually de-stress. . . . I have learned yet another thing about WordPress and its limitations. Yesterday, I knew I had this open on my computer at school, but I figured I could finish it at home and post it. Nothing doing. I wrote a complete posting twice and when I saved it I saw the post, but when I went back it was gone. It was not until it happened a second time that it dawned on me what was happening. So . . . this is the third posting of this. It is actually Sunday afternoon and I am back in my office. I will try to recreate some of what I wrote yesterday. However before I get back to some of those issues, I must say I had an enjoyable time, for the most part, last evening at the Fog and Flame. A colleague from the Communication Studies Department has finished his PhD and is leaving and he had a little gathering. I was speaking to another professor in that department and I think they had seven searches again for next year. I know she has been on so many search and screen committees that she is totally burned out. It makes it hard on both the faculty and the students and I know this first hand from both sides.

Music has always been a significant part of my life, from the time I was a little boy. I was in choirs or had some sort of musical gadget or listening device. I was in a city-wide children’s’ choir when I was still in elementary school and I was taking private music lessons from the 2nd grade. Yesterday someone asked me what my favorite group or favorite song was. The favorite group was not that hard for me to decide, and anyone who has been acquainted with me over the decades will not be surprised by this choice. It is Kansas, the band that really hit things in the middle 70s. It is the band whose concerts I have attended more than any other one, and it is certainly one of the bands that I believe I had every album they have done, particularly in their heyday. I also liked them because their music was more complex and interesting both melodically and certainly more difficult technically, but they were also always accessible. My favorite song is actually from their very first album and it is a ballad of sorts. It is melodic, but a bit haunting. It is symphonic is its timbre because of the violin and the piano, which has a sort of classical aspect to it. It is the first verse that I find particularly autobiographical. It actually relates to some of the deistic struggles that I have noted. In fact rather than typing the words, I think I will insert a link so you can listen to it, if you so desire (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fyn8IeOdxlY). This is the original version off that first album. It is how I most understand the nature of the third article. It is interesting to me that I am so comfortable with a third article though as a Lutheran person, one who has been taught to be second article dominant. Yet, that is not some charismatic idea of the Holy Spirit, but rather a very personal understanding of it. I think Rudolf Otto’s idea of the numinous is probably at work here for me. It is interesting to me that my humanities class from Dana College is back in the fore of the my thoughts yet again. In fact, I have used those notes on two occasions lately to assist my students today.

As I am finishing things up for the semester, I am grateful for three things (this is not particularly an order of importance, but rather the way they have come to mind): first, I am grateful for my colleague and friend, Dr. Mark Decker. I realize how much your presence in my life means to me. It was when you were gone in the fall that I really came to terms with that. In addition, the Tuesdays and weekly times were as important to me as they were to you. While I know your life will be much more structured and your time much more demanded, I hope we can find a weekly time to check in and at least have lunch or something. I am grateful for all you have done for me in so many ways. Second, I am grateful to my department colleagues, and in particular, as of late, the departmental tenure committee. They have been so supportive and gracious in their advice and support. I have been continually amazed by the difference between the department here and the department in my previous institution. There were good people at Stout, and I still believe that, but the atmosphere there is certainly different than here. Dr. Decker and I have spoken about that on numerous occasions. I have both supportive colleagues and amazing scholars here at Bloomsburg. The third thing, and certainly the most profound thing that occurred this semester began with a snowstorm and a snow-day. I had no idea what was in store for me. I am not sure I even know now, but I know that I have been blessed beyond compare. Twice this week I have had an opportunity to share time with Mr. Galan. Each time I speak with him I learn more; I understand more.

As I finish up “another semester ~ another year, as always, I am amazed at how quickly it goes by. This is the second year that I have been here the entire time a student has been. It is always a bit shocking to see how much he or she changes from their time as freshmen until they are walking across the stage to receive their diploma. It is a wonderful thing to behold. It is a gift to be able to have some small influence on that process. That was the other thing that happened this week. I received an award (as an honorable mention) for the Outstanding Innovative Teaching Award here at Bloomsburg. I knew I had been nominated and I did have to fill something out to be considered. Well, I guess it was a good thing because I got a very nice certificate and there is an email and announcement to the president and the provost. Coming as I am turning in my tenure materials is certainly serendipitous. Well, it is time to go back to grading. The picture here is a picture of me when I was a freshman in college, it was scanned (and heisted) earlier this semester. It seemed like an appropriate option as one can see what I looked like when I was writing those notes for my “hum classes” I have been sharing the past couple of weeks.

As always, thank you for reading.

Dr. Martin

Please, just let it end!

Good evening,

As I begin this posting, my capstone level students are filling out their course evaluations. This is the next to last class. Next week they will do their presentations with their clients in attendance. I am always excited by this part of the semester to see what they have actually produced. Most times I am rather blown away by what they have done. It is quite amazing to see how they step up to the plate and create some really usable documents or other media. This time, three of the groups are working on particular elements of the departmental site and some of the minors. They are moving the majority of the site, which has been in Dreamweaver to Drupal, which is the university’s Course Management System (CMS). This is actually a pretty big undertaking. There is the coordination between the groups and then there is working with the university web person, which is another piece to their puzzle. Two other groups are working with previous clients, who are in town and have worked with me before. Both groups have had some bumps, but I think they have managed the issues pretty well.

This week I finally turn in all the tenure things I have been lamenting over and stressing upon . . . it is finally due on Thursday to my chair. At this point, it is about 190 pages long with all the appendices. I also have to put together my supplemental materials during the coming weekend. I actually have a bit more time on those because my department has been kind. It is the impetus for this blog title, however. I just want it to be done. I have listened to a number of colleagues and to those who have put up with me during this past month. Your hanging in there with me is more important to me than you might realize. You have probably witnessed me at my worst, certainly more stressed than I have been since perhaps my comprehensive exams along with the beginning of chemo therapy. That was a difficult time that might rival this one. Sobre todo a Jordan y Melissa, su cuidado, apoyo y amor serán para siempre atesorados. A pesar de mi frustración, las fusiones accidentales, y sí, hasta se rasgan, estoy más agradecido que cualquier palabra puede expresar.

The picture of this posting is something that I spoke with my students about during class tonight. One of the my students aptly noted that this might be generational, and to that observation, I certainly agree, but it is not necessarily what one uses or even how much he or she uses it, it is more the reason and the manner in which one does. The reasons are actually changing more than many people think. I do not believe social networking is so much about staying in touch with friends or poking, tweeting, or pinning. It is about understanding the world in which you live and work, the world in which you take in information and then process it to understand or create your identity. What is happening is more and more people are using it as their “go-to” news source, or the way they keep abreast of what is happening in the world around them. The consequences of this metamorphosis is substantial. On whom do we depend for the important news or the breaking information that directly affects us? What make that person, the source, that digital media credible or trustworthy? What are the consequences of depending on 140 characters or someone’s wall posting?

I am amazed at how someone can believe that FB, Twitter, Tumblr, or Instagram is all he or she needs to understand the world in which they live. It actually frightens me . . . the lack of critical thought or introspection will continue to create a void among the masses and their ability to hold a meaningful or insightful conversation or discussion will continue to wane. One of the most important things I believe we can do as humans is think critically. I see this in my writing classes, from freshmen to seniors. Their willingness to look beyond the first thing they find or merely scratch the surface is sorely lacking . . . and when you push them to go further, they think you are being unrealistic or harsh. When I find someone who is willing to talk about more than something like Miley Cyrus or some other BS celebrity garbage, I am pleasantly surprised. I had some of those conversations earlier this semester and they might be the high point of this past three or four months. Unfortunately, because of a variety of things, they have not happened. That is my fault as much as anything. I merely need to make time to focus on those things: why is America so different was the first topic that one queried? A fair question . . . and a difficult one. If you have read my blog for a while, there have been questions about God and the nature of this creator. It is certainly easy to say, “God is love.” I wish it was that easy to believe. I know the scriptures better than most and I know from where these words come, but it is so hard to believe that this is the case. At least it is for me at this point. The conditionality of us as humans (I guess one might say this is why it is such an amazing thing that God is unconditional.) make it hard to believe that God could allow us to so mess things up. I want to simply ask, “why?”. Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to listen to some of the thoughts of someone I have come to know and respect greatly. It is interesting how he has grasped on to this aspect of God being “all there for us”. I respect his position, and I was there once, but I am not sure I am anymore. I have become more skeptical that I might like to admit. Of course, after listening over the weekend, I am more understanding of why someone has the position she does. Again, I remember being there once upon a time. I wanted to believe that somehow God had (has) a plan. Is it merely now I do not want to believe or I can’t believe? I am not sure. I am hoping that perhaps teaching my class this fall might do the same thing for me it often does for my students.

Teaching the Bible as Literature class is one of my favorite classes. While one of the two siblings will be in the class, the other has chosen, mostly for appropriate reasons, to not take the course. I am not sure that is the entire story, but I also respect what I believe the other reason is also. Perhaps we will have some of those talks again, I miss them. In a way this blog is to prompt some of that thinking. I think it is believed that I can be convinced once again of this all-loving God. I am not so sure. It will take a lot more than merely “because” . . . I remember struggling with this once before in my life . . . I am reminded that Bonhoeffer struggled with the church as it failed to stand up against Hitler. I am not sure I struggle with the church. I am not really interested in the church per se . . . my bigger struggle is with God as an all-knowing, all-loving being. It just seems to me at this point, there is so much hurt, hate, mistrust, and anger in the world that how can an all-powerful and all-knowing God of love be active in the midst of such sadness and discontent?

I am actually adding into my posting. Ironic, that I have been pondering God in this posting (One should note that I still believe in God demonstrated by the fact I am having this conversation.). However, I should remember my younger sister, Kris, who passed away 6 years ago today. Please forgive me for not being a better brother. I have learned more about what it means to be a loving sibling from the two exceptional siblings I have blessed enough to have in my life. It actually makes me wonder about the third one, whom I have not yet met. I know she is important too, and I think it is the middle one who is the glue who keeps them all together. I think she is an interesting glue, perhaps more like velcro, but I think that analogy will go unexplained at the moment. I think you would have been a blogger. I remember you showing me some of your writing. You were an outstanding writer. Perhaps I am trying through this blog to carry on something of you. I am not sure I ever thought of that before. I am not sure I would do it as well as you, but I offer this as a honor to you.

I need to revise the ending of this because it is actually Tuesday morning. I needed to add some to my entry. I got some work done at home; I have met with students already this morning; I need to run my colleague to pick up a car. I am feeling like my brain is running in twenty different directions and my body is standing still, but that is what the end of the semester does normally to me. Add the last couple days of managing this tenure stuff and it is merely a bit more ridiculous. C’est la vie!! Thanks for reading as always.

Dr. Martin

And the next thing is . . .

Good Morning from the corner of my office,

It was another eventful and jam-packed day yesterday, but all-in-all, pretty productive. I am really somewhat amazed that I was still plugging along at 8:00 p.m. last night because I did not get to bed the previous night. I have been revising and organizing the tenure stuff. I am feeling better, but I still got myself into trouble a bit today when I responded in less than ideal form. I think there have been moments over the last couple weeks where Lydia has probably been more lucid than I. That is a rather frightening thing. I did get the revision of the tenure statement into the department committee today and I am feeling at least a bit less anxious than I was.

Yesterday morning I went to get coffee at Starbucks, and having actually bought it I realized on the way back to the office I forgot to put cream in it. Then I got headed back into class. That was busy and now 24 hours later a full cup of coffee is still on my desk and I have not even touched it. Not all that long ago, such an occurrence would be unfathomable. However, contrary to what I have been accused as the initial picture in the blog depicts, I have more power over caffeine than it has over me. I can already see the look of disbelief from many, and one in particular, but it is true. I have drank a lot less coffee this semester than perhaps any other semester I have been at Bloomsburg. I think it is because I have been “shamed” into taking a bit better care of myself. If it were not for this tenure business, I think I would be a paragon of healthy living this semester. I do have to admit there have been some insanely long hours, and while I have cut out most processed sugar and gluten (resulting in a loss of 25 pounds in about two months), the amount or portion size that I have consumed during this same time has been substantially less. I think it a combination of those things that has caused me to get back to the weight (give or take a few pounds) I was when I got out of the hospital in August of 2012, and I would add that I was much less healthy than I am now. While I am generally happy with my weight at the moment, I still feel that there is a lot more I could do to look better than I do. I still feel “dumpy” and not very fit. I think I need to get back to the gym. I think it will probably “weight” until the end of the semester, but that is something that should help me.

I have continued to clean around the house and that is a good thing. I have gotten more organized and, I know some of you might not think I needed to do so, but I did. This is one of the things that sort of stumps me. I have always been pretty organized and orderly, but I have seemed to get even more compulsive about some of it. It does not matter whether it is my office or my house. I have to have things in place or I cannot function. In fact, clutter and disorganization actually paralyzes me. I cannot function reasonably in any manner.

As we are finishing up the semester, I am trying to look ahead to the next couple of weeks or really up to the 15th of May when I have some mouth surgery. I need to get a number of things off my plate including a trip to Wisconsin and back. I am still trying to figure out how and where to schedule that. I have a tentative plan, but need to examine some other pieces to this puzzle. Hence my title today . . . how do we decide priorities? This is always a bigger issue that one might think. It is a bit of a struggle when so many vie for one’s time; it is always a struggle when I feel such a sense of commitment to the things I have given my word to do. It is an issue when their timing and our own timing does not match up. It is an issue when emotions get in the way, particularly when how those emotions expressed are so different from how one might express his or her own. It is an issue when mixed messages are seemingly given, or are they mistakenly received? It is such an interesting dilemma and,then again, does it need to be a dilemma? Seems I have more questions than answers, but that is usually how my life goes? I am always wondering the “whys?” of things.

One might ask me why the “why” about the why was so important to me (do you have that straight?). Well, I think it is because I was never sure what was next. I was never sure what was certain or what could be counted on. That questioning certainly has some consequences. What is causing me to think about it now is that I am faced daily with one who, by her own admission, believes in no one, trusts nothing, and believes there that everything is conditional or there is a price tag. Fiercely independent on one hand, and then not so much on the other, though such an admission is probably not possible. I am looking at my own self in real life and it frustrates me beyond anything I have ever felt. Have I really been this difficult for people? If so, let me begin with a simple, but profound “I am sorry.”. What is more interesting is the yet, once again, seeming oxymoronic ability to say that one aspect of that belief system is unconditional while being profoundly conditional in every other aspect of their life. I am a person who works logically and appreciates some sense of predictability. I guess being consistently unpredictable is a form of predictability, but it is testing me. I am becoming quite aware of an aside comment that was made at one point. It was a sort of “an after” or a throw away comment, and I remember my answer precisely. Now I think I know why the question was asked, or more accurately, the statement was made. I also understand more fully why such a consequence or result might be a fundamental part of one’s outlook, but it is such a sad way to consider life. It might be the very reason why I have been brought into their life. In spite of everything that has occurred, I am not everyone. I am certainly quite different when it comes seeing things in a more complex and holistic manner.

That being said, I am also human and there are times I will respond more conditionally than what I actually believe or think. There are times I will get frustrated, confounded, confused, or simply fail. I will fall short of what I wish I could do. On the other hand, as noted in one of the text epistles composed, I am not a mind reader nor do I believe one should have to be. Part of that issue is being 50 and soon to be 22. At times, I am so used to the 50 year old that when the almost 22 year old comes out I am caught off guard. I need to remember that being chronologically what or who one is – well, it is appropriate. It should be expected. There is one of my many failings. I think God was probably correct in making sure I did not have children. I am not sure I would have survived it all. As I noted in an earlier blog post, what I have learned as of late I have little to no control, and while I do not like that word in this context, it is the word I used earlier, so I have using it here. Perhaps more appropriately what I am once again reminded of is when we allow people entre’ into our lives, we change our lives. That is not a bad thing, but it is a learning process. It is a negotiation of sorts, but it is something that requires communication. It is interesting that I have a doctoral degree in it, but I seem to fail miserably at times. It merely makes me want to work more carefully and intentionally. It makes me want to demonstrate, illustrate, show, that the answer I gave to the off-handed comment, which I am sure was intentional (and probably planned) and significant, is true. If I am going to be able to accomplish this, there is a certainly a sort of fissiparous process that will need to occur, but that is my task. It is what happens when one is in the presence of “la hermosa peligrosa”. It is the next thing.

Thanks for reading.

Dr. Martin

Sprinting towards what . . . ?

Good evening from the corner of my study,

It has been a busy few days, which certainly seems to be the norm rather than an exception. I remember saying that last semester was busier than any I had ever participated in. At that point, I could not fathom that this semester could, in any way shape or form, be more extremely or insanely busy, but I will admit, I was wrong. In fact, I was wrong to about the fourth power . . . or at least that is what it seems. After my last posting, I got the most wonderful email from a former colleague, co-member of a cooperative committee, and probably one of the more amazing individuals I have ever met in my life. She reminded me of some important points. She prompted me to see how what I was, and am, is okay, and that those two aspects of my life, those subjectivities, if you will, both have a reason and meaning. Both the 5 year old and the 58 year old have value. It was a nice thing to hear. That email along with getting some other things figured out at the end of last week caused me to be a bit more stable.

This next couple of weeks will be stressful, for everyone involved in academia. Students who have worked hard want to keep working hard to maintain the level they have in their classes. Those who have not worked so hard are hoping to somehow pull their asses off the firing line. Those who are getting ready to graduate might have already checked out in someways, but they are both excited and petrified by what is just around the corner. The bottom line is students of all persuasions are hearing the bell of accountability. I remember during my undergraduate days that I always pushed harder at the end. I did believe that finishing strong would pay off, and I do believe that probably 98% of the time it did. This is why I tell my students to keep going, much like the effective conclusion to a paper. It is essential to finish in a strong manner or everything you have done throughout the semester becomes suspect and fragile. It is the one time that procrastination has almost immediate consequences.

Today in all of my classes (and Mondays this semester, I actually have all four classes on the same day), I spoke with my students about being reflective practitioners. I do not believe there is nearly enough of this in much of our undergraduate requirements. Too many students are still able to cram or memorize for the test and they cram it into their short-term memories and get awesome grades. However, two weeks hence, and certainly in the longer-term, the memory of those answers that caused you to receive an “A” is gone. You will not remember much of it, but you got the grade you wanted. I was speaking with a departmental colleague earlier today and he noted that my grade distribution reveals a larger number of low grades for students than some of my fellow professors. I guess that is different from what a lot of non-tenured faculty do because of their worry about student evaluations. I guess that does not surprise me when I think about it, but it is merely another form of grade inflation. We wonder, particularly in our Foundations classes, why students write so poorly or they seem to lack the skills that we would deem necessary, and yet, they have made it to college. It makes me wonder about a number of things. First, if I see such skills lacking and somehow they got into a college level class, just how terrible is the writing that qualified or relegates someone to a remedial class? I have been working with a student who tries terrifically hard, and someone who is actually much brighter than he thinks, but for a variety of reasons, he struggles. The questions he asks, and they are honest questions, they are sincere questions, prompts me to ask how he got through his high school writing courses. Is the public school system that broken? It scares me for a number or reasons, the least not being, what will happen to the world when people cannot communicate in the most basic of ways? I think I am glad I am old and will not be around to see it. However, I digress . . . not all that uncommon for me, I suppose. Anyway, back to grades . . . working on this tenure stuff, I have had to analyze the grades I have given in the past 5 years . . . while I was told I am tougher than many, I feel I am still guilty of my own version of grade inflation. Of all of the grades given (or earned, of which grade inflation versus earned would be an oxymoron), the grade I have given most often, far and above the others, is a “B’. Actually 26% of the total number of students in my classes have received this grade. I have to rethink that. I think perhaps I have been a bit too easy on students, particularly when I say in my grading rubric that “[t}he grade of a “B” represents work significantly beyond that which is expected”. I am not sure that so many are in that category. Too often, at least at the beginning of the semester, students merely hand things in. I do believe they learn that I do expect more.

I am not done with my tenure things. I need to revise the statement and resubmit it to my committee tomorrow. I have the majority of that done. I was going to finish it last night (BTW, it is Tuesday morning and I did not finish this post last night either.), but I hit a wall and I actually went to bed. I slept almost 7 hours. I am up and I want to finish this posting before I get into the day. I will finish the revision today and grade. Those are the two main things on the agenda. I have to pay some bills and get some other small things organized, but all-in-all, it seems like a manageable day. Along with the statement, I have to make some lists and get some more documents organized. I have to put together my supporting materials and all of that has to be ready for next week as it is due on the first. Again, I still have trepidations, but I am not quite the basket case I was last week. Thank goodness, and thank goodness for the people who have put up with me. To those who have saw me at my worst, apologies. I really need to get all of this squared away, however, and I have a legislative assembly this weekend. I am considering bowing out of that. I think people would understand.

As the semester is completing I have, as usual, observed both what appears to be some of the best work as well as some of the worst practices by students, some of whom I think I know pretty well. There is one student who puts her head down and, in spite of the stress, keeps soldiering on . . . the work she has done this semester is impressive and while there is one class that has confounded her, and with some good reason, she does not quit. There is the student, who came in at a deficit and really continues to work and ask questions. He is perhaps one of the kindest young men I have ever known. He too has asked if I would mentor him. It is an honor to do so. Then there is one of the most capable students I think I have ever known. He is an entirely different story . . . failing classes at midterm, things have turned around, but there is so much more that could and should be done. There is always the issue of choices. Bad choices are part of life . . . Lord knows, I have made more than my share of them, and there are also the times I was unwilling to accept the consequences or take accountability for those choices. I think that is one of the most important lessons I have ever learned. I am sure there will be other ones in my life yet. I think the most maddening, disappointing, and maybe, disillusioning part of this student is that he lies about it. And they are foolish lies, they are so absurd that it is easy to see right through them. Sunday, speaking with yet another colleague, he was noting things with his daughter. It was not the fact that she made the poor choice, it is the fact that she lied about it.

I have often said there are two things that will fire me up: disrespect and dishonesty. I am once again reminded of some of my comprehensive exam reading. Because I was working on Bonhoeffer, I read Sisela Bok’s books Lying and Secrets. I remember what I was going through with some fraternity brothers at the time and that I told the truth or was not willing to be complicit in a lie. It caused a lot of problems and side-taking. I realized at that moment I was not a consequentialist, that I was not a situationist. I was more of a deontologist than I might have realized. I think that was an important learning moment for me and I was in my 40s. I was also reminded by my most favorite muse that people learn in their own time. Indeed, as usual, truisms come from that mouth on a regular basis. Well . . . more things to ponder. As we sprint towards the end of the semester, some will finish strong, some will limp, others, yet, will stumble. I cannot worry about them beyond a certain point, but I can make sure I conclude appropriately.

A usted puede entender este: le deseo mucho éxito cuando usted termina su semestre. Sé que usted ha trabajado diligentemente, a pesar de tener mucho en su plato. Sé que usted ha hecho el trabajo bueno y ha trabajado con fuerza para mejorar. Creo realmente que el trabajo difícil dará resultado. Me recuerdan de una de las frases o líneas de cualquiera de los servicios en la liturgia Luterana: “criado Bien hecho, bueno y fiel”. Puede el trabajo y la energía que usted ha gastado este semestre crean resultados de los cuales usted puede estar orgulloso. Usted debería ser.

It has finally gotten reasonable outside and feels like spring might have actually sprung. I am surely hoping that is the case. From wherever it is you might be reading, thanks!

Dr. Martin

58 or 5

Good evening from the study of my house,

We are looking at another night in the 20s and I am certainly ready for spring rather than what we are doing. It makes me feel like I am back in the Upper Peninsula. I have had hanging baskets on my porch for the last two years and I have brought them in and nurtured them in the basement in the winter. I got them out and the other night it froze and we got snow. I had hung them out only a short few days before. They froze!! Dang it!! I have been so good about taking care of them. One night and they are done. They were actually a sort of hanging ivy and quite beautiful. Not anymore.

Today I handed in the draft of my tenure statement. It is about 21 pages long and I think I could have written more, but there is a point of diminishing return. I think I hit it. This entire thing has so stressed me out. I understand rationally that I have worked hard and that the body of work I have to show for that past five years has significant merit. I have had strong evaluations across the board, but there is always that sense of doubt that plagues my existence. I am always amazed by this struggle that ravishes my body. My brain says one thing, but my emotions say something so entirely different. I have to admit this writing of the tenure statement has stressed me more than anything has for many years. I do not even think my dissertation was this bad. Perhaps my comps at one point, but I did survive them and all the stuff that someone has to do to get that three-letter title behind his or her name.

In the midst of this two week craziness, that is how long I have been analyzing, pouring over, writing and rewriting this “draft”. It has contributed to my Crohn’s being more active than it has in probably 12 or 13 years. I think I have had more moments of intestinal problems in the past three weeks than in the past 12 years combined. It has also caused me to be terrifically fragile and emotional. I have already noted some of that in a previous post. Well, things that were said to be supportive or even merely teasing did not get interpreted as such. Things said or not said; looks given or merely perceived, tone of voice and all the things that could be misunderstood or misinterpreted were. I must note that in the light of last weekend, the support I received in the midst of that crazy weekend was a blessing and I made it through, relatively in tact because of that love and care. Yet, in spite of the positive given, as is sometimes the case, I only saw, felt or believed something negative. While I know I have a propensity for this, I think this past two weeks might have been a new high point (or low point) in all of that. All the while, needing to still manage the rest of the stuff in my life. Let me say without hesitation, I do so poorly, and while most might not be aware, those who know me best probably did. Jerry and Mark, two of my most supportive colleagues and friends were asking me almost daily if I was okay.

The night before last as I was trying to finish up, I really did hit the wall, but in my thought process, but more significantly in my emotional process. At one point, I merely got angry. For the most part, I have learned to be a bit more reasonable how I manage that anger. For sometime now, when I get really angry or upset, I clean or I move things around. Well, at 4:00 a.m., after not being able to sleep, I was moving my bedroom around. While that might not seem like anything that drastic, the furniture there is pretty substantial. Moving a dresser that is solid wood with a significant mirror attached, and one that I cannot even pick up the end of it, was no easy task. Moving a four posted bed that is also solid wood, and all of this in a confined space (you had to move one piece a ways and then the other, sort of like a dance couple) was quite a feat I must say. And the entire process took me about 20-25 minutes. Amazing the energy in anger. At least, something productive came from it. More importantly, nothing got damaged in the process. I was relatively careful in the process and not hasty, in spite of turning it around in less than a half hour. I even told people to pretty much stay away for the day.

When I said that, it was certainly where I was . . . I needed my space, mostly because I saw my own self as not worth being around. I was miserable, and probably more miserable to be around. I am not there often, but yesterday was certainly one of those times. Even though I have been shown in many ways, by many people, that I do matter, sometimes I cannot see it, much less feel it. What I find at that point is I feel I am five years old again, in a new house with a new family and trying to figure out how all of this happened and why was I given away yet again. That is a terrible feeling and the world feels big and empty, and while I am not sure I would have said I was questioning my existence or reason for being at five, I knew that I felt lost and lonely. Well that is what I actually was feeling yesterday. Regardless what I have been told, regardless what I have been shown, over the past five years, or even during this semester (is that all the time some of this has been in process?) I heard that voice from my childhood telling me that I was not wanted; I did not deserve; I would not grow up to amount to anything; I was worthless. Painful things growing up, but painful even now when somehow those words come back to haunt me. At another five-year-old-moment, I was throwing things yesterday. Nothing of great importance, nor something that expensive, but nonetheless, I threw it. Out of that throwing and ensuing conversation, however, perhaps one of the most important things occurred. Through the words and texts, I think I might have begun to believe that somehow I do matter. Somehow, I do make a difference in others lives. I know that statement sounds absurd, and on some levels, it most certainly is. However, the fragile nature of my security in this world in which I live and work, a world controlled by evaluation and assessment, is a bit overwhelming to me.

So what makes it manageable? It is the support of a letter received this week that might be one of the profound pieces of communication I have ever be fortunate enough to receive. I had to translate it, and for the most part was able to do so. It was the conversations had with three or four people. It was some of my own self-assessment. It was a 20 minute nap. It was seeing the most amazing smile on someone’s face as I somehow got embarrassed yet again. I cannot even remember the conversation, and while it does not happen often, when I turn red with embarrassment, I turn RED. Oh my. It was the hug from the student I mentor. It was the reminder in a letter than I do make a difference. It was by the grace of God that I was reminded in the middle of this Holy Week, that there is something holy and precious around us everyday. It was a 58 year old struggling to manage his 5 year old demons. Once again, at least for the time being, I am ready to stand up and keep going. I wish all of you who celebrate this holiday a blessed Easter.

Gracias,

Miguelito (which for those who do not know means “little” Michael)