blast from the past

My birthday is coming up this week and we have a nice family dinner planned. 

But I've been yearning for one of those all-out bashes that used to happen--usually planned and hosted by someone else. That hasn't happened in years. Some of is the pandemic, sure--but some of it is just that we're in a different stage of our lives. 

Facebook kindly reminded me with this post from twelve years ago when my friends L and J postponed a vacation they were planning to take because it fell in my birthday week. The mayhem of comments that ensued with everyone jumping in with recommendations, some weird references to Tom Hanks's birthday, my London friends threatening to gatecrash, and Sunny Singh (the author Sunny Singh) giving me sage advice on partying all month long made me chuckle. 

I've been talking to L more since this reminder popped up and reconnecting with others too. And much as I resent Facebook for its manipulative ways, I'd completely forgotten about this interlude until it reminded me. What a sweet memory from a more innocent past. 

"send us some poems and essays"

I've never wanted a war, but this is more of an anti-colonial struggle anyway--it would seem the people of Ukraine are fighting for their right to exist. 

The courage of the attitude that Ilya Kaminsky shares in his tweet... the courage, the hope, the beauty, and--what Hindi speakers would call--the sheer dil [heart] of it is simply breathtaking.
 

recovery

We (Nu and I) had plans with CF today. We were supposed to see the Kahlo exhibit and then come home to hang out and pet puppies and eat pizza and watch the movie remake of Nella Larsen's Passing together. 

I'm not gonna lie--after the accident yesterday, I wanted to just cancel it all and stay home and worry about the war in Ukraine, racism against refugees, the poor deer, and my Bluey. But this morning I woke and decided I did NOT want to think about anything on that beyond-my-control list. So Nu and I bundled up and walked to the museum, met up with CF, and spent a satisfying couple of hours together transformed by--and transcendent with--art. 

The picture is of Detroit-based artist Beverly Fishman's piece "Recovery". I love how the angles of the work play on some of the unusual angles of this Zaha Hadid building (a little bit of which is visible in my pic). And I loved, loved this part of the artist's statement: "The notion of recovery is central to the experience of the exhibition. In the face of a global pandemic, along with the ever-pressing need for wider social, racial, and environmental reckonings in the United States and abroad, it is all the more important for people to seek out moments of solace." 

So that happened. Then CF went and got their car while Nu and I ordered the pizza. Then we got home and hung out and petted puppies and Nu took a nap and CF helped me find the VIN number on Bluey and take more pictures for the insurance company. I didn't have the energy for a whole ass movie, but we watched three episodes of Abbott Elementary (so about the average run time it would take to watch a whole ass movie, ha) but its wry teaching humor fit better than a more serious reckoning with the world. 

I'm still in recovery mode.

everything can change in a moment

Posts like this one about life in Ukraine put everything in perspective. I can't imagine... or maybe I can easily imagine having to leave a home you know to huddle in a subway station to escape the bombs raining down.

So in comparison, I guess we got off really lightly--Nu and I are fine, and I hope the deer who jumped out at us as we were on our way back from book club at RS's is fine too. There's no blood, and I hope that's a good sign. (Please don't tell me any different. I've never so much as run over a frog before, so this thing is nightmarish. My mind keeps replaying the second the deer landed in front of us and has me wishing I had been able to swerve harder.) As Nu said, if we'd left a few seconds earlier or later, things would be different. Both of us romanticize/anthropomorphize deer and get silly about them, so we've both been pretty down since it happened.

My poor Bluey, too, is so not fine. To make matters worse, Big A is away for work until Monday and only on the phone, so I'm just feeling extra alone in my guilt and misery.

it's the end of the day and I feel fine

Hung out with bestie KB, whom I just adore, today... We usually walk, but today we went to a museum and had lunch and went shopping and book browsed and caught a movie and... just hung out all day... like we were playing hooky from school.

And we were talking about how when we were young things just seemed to be getting better--you know? The Berlin Wall fell, Nelson Mandela was released from prison, hate was considered to be evil... and today there's war everywhere and bombs dropping on Ukraine. 

But being around KB is a balm. And now I have this song stuck in my head.

Pic: Here I am at the Joseph Tisiga Scarecrow Exhibit.

map of crap

Texas Gov. Greg Abbot is telling teachers, doctors, caregivers, and child protective services that they are officially mandated to report the parents/families of trans students who are receiving gender-affirming help as child abusers. No, really. 

I'm sitting here with heartbreak and a bit of survivor guilt (we considered jobs in Texas earlier this winter), knowing I must do everything I can to fight this because as every study has repeatedly shown, compassion and gender-affirming care is suicide prevention for kids at a vulnerable time in their lives. 

And I will fight this with every activist intersection I have as educator, child advocate, parent, and parent of a non-binary/trans teen.

It's unbelievable how hostile and inhospitable so much of the USA is to trans kids. You'd think that in the THIRD year of a global PANDEMIC, people would focus on medical initiatives that are life-affirming and life-saving instead of needless cruelty.

Twos-day!

For some reason, I've been so excited for today. I like palindromes and liked learning "ambigram" and was plain delighted that today existed.

I guess all the coincidences of the day had something to do with today's mid-soak epiphany that the Tamil endearments "thane-y" and "maane-y" translate handily to "honey" and... "deer" (not "dear"). 

____________________________________________________________________

A Sonnet on Coming Halfway Across the World

For we are everywhere a palimpsest of us

and the karma and the kismet of meeting 

is multiplied by the distance of continents

fussy with farness, a dance of catastrophe. 

What if we should fail at loving each other;

what if language cleaves us with difference?

 It was in childhood I first heard of love--

on the radio, songs speaking endearments

in Tamizh, singing O thaneY, O maaneY...

these cupped invitations that connect us:

thaneY is... honey; maaneY is... deer, but

still homonym enough to arc from error

to hope--like words I carry as souvenirs--

we two/too are alike, steadfast, and dear. 

sleepover

Paul Farmer, a personal and global hero, passed away today. It seems a bit precipitate at just 62... Many of my early conversations with people who are now lifelong friends and colleagues started with discussions of his work and vision. I wish we would honor his life by doing away with the IPRs preventing us from vaccinating the whole world against Covid immediately. 

In happier home news: Nu had invited a friend over for a sleepover this evening. Yet this isn't about them.  Nu and their friend claimed the rumpus room and puppies, so Big A and I decamped to the guest room--which has a huge TV unlike our bedroom--with our pizza and pop to hang out.

And then we kept calling it our "own sleepover."

Although, you know, we're married and all. We took turns checking on the comfort and safety of the original sleepover kids, watched two whole movies, did some puzzles, and then finally went to sleep (in our regular bedroom) around 2 am. We really miss each other when he's off at work. 

meandering things

Nu claimed they didn't want to go to UU today although there was going to be a welcome back bonfire for all the Rel. Ed. kids after the omicron hiatus. But I managed to coax them to come with me...

When I took a break from ushering to go check on them, they were in the middle of a snowball fight. [I love how all the too-cool teens look like little kids in this picture.] It's a bit of a dilemma between encouraging autonomy and overcoming inertia every time the 14-year-old doesn't want to do something that I think they will enjoy or would be good for their general well being.

I was hanging out with Big A (and hence) watching the NBA all-star game and was surprised how much the glimpses of Vanessa Bryant and Magic Johnson moved me and reminded me how life can change in an instant. [All these deep thoughts probably because I wasn't really following the game.] Then I made Big A laugh when I wondered aloud if Colin Kapernick could play basketball.  I mean he deserves a more progressive league than the NFL. And... I just looked it up on the internet and it turns out that he's pretty good at basketball, actually.

still winter

These frosty guys! 

Some mix of of bunny rabbit/Yoda/puppy/lion cub. The way they race to be the first to jump on me when I show up makes me feel like the most loved mama in the whole world.

More snow today. Nu had school canceled for a snow day yesterday, which made their four-day Presidents' Day weekend a five-day one! 

If it weren't for the pandemic, it would have been a good time to take off on a small adventure by ourselves. As it is, Nu has some extra hangout time with friends.

I'm ready for Spring, but I'm glad my babies are enjoying the winter that's still here. Huh, it looks like they're predicting a "reverse spring" for us this year.

on to the weekend

I'll be sorry to finish this kaleidoscope of a book tonight/tomorrow. 

Three different fin de siècles, three sets of American characters who may or may not be connected, so many threads to pull and reincarnations and alternative narratives to ponder. [Something I noticed and may want to build on for a paper/lesson is the way race--with all of its messy margins--is noted. I particularly appreciated how it carefully mentioned when a character was white instead of assuming that everyone was white unless characterized otherwise.]

So yes--very preoccupied with reading at the moment. But also got a ton of student work, a women's month meeting, and misc. followup done. Not much sabbatical work to report, but: Nu got into the AP World History class they wanted; I fell asleep on the massage table and woke up feeling heavenly; it's the puppies' Boss Day so there're strips of turkey bacon in the microwave; At stopped by to pick up some mail and we got in some hugs; and Big A is ordering in Sushi for our dinner. 

in which we all learn

The chickens Nu and L got have begun to lay eggs, or so I hear. 

Nu: [Scrubbing chicken eggs in the kitchen sink.]
Me: Those look muddy, did your chickens lay them in the dirt?
Nu: [Looks blankly at me] It's poopy, Mom!
Me: Wait! The eggs come out of their poop hole?!
Big A: [To me] Yes, Puppy! Chickens just have the one cloaca.
Nu: Oh! That's how you say it? I thought it was "cluck-a."
Me: I didn't know any of this.
Big A: I'm still learning new things about you.
Fin.

(before my parents' arranged marriage)

When my mom was trying hard to be my best friend

(so I too would share, so I wouldn't decide to die)
she once told me how in the late sixties
she'd take the 21 bus from her college
to go "flirt" at the university library

Heading home meant rules and four younger siblings 

(and college was only to make her marriage worthy)
so she'd stay back to read trashy novels 
knowing dudes were watching her 
from neighboring desks

I feel a flicker for mom in her carefully pressed saris

(pressed under her mattress if she missed the dhobi)  
knowing she'd never be allowed to work
using the few years she had

for freedom, for fun

she told me she never looked directly at any of them
(I mean, that would be to risk a bad reputation) 

but there was one bespectacled dude
who seemed a very serious type

she didn't know his name

graduation results went up, and he asked how she did 
(she was too taken by surprise to counterfeit, so)

she told him she got a third class--i.e. a "C"
he turned on his heel--and she laughs-- 
she never saw him again

zooming to nostalgia

When the invitation to attend a state of the art talk with so many of my old professors showed up, I RSVPed right away. It was some of the usual suspects from the Thursday Poco Seminar and it  took me back to being a student in Oxford in the first decade of this century--late as usual, racing past the tourists and townies and fellow students to get to Wadham College by 5:15. Usually I didn't bring my bicycle because there'd be wine and/or we'd go to dinner with the speaker and it would be easier to split a taxicab with someone.

It was at 5:00 GMT today, so although I tuned in at noon, it felt like one of those evenings. Lots has happened since then: jobs, publications, promotions; and on the other side: relationships, marriage, kids. It's wild that my profs are still the leaders in the field; it's crazy that I still show up on their acknowledgements pages from time to time. 

There is one person on this panel who is newer, very likely much younger. They mentioned in their introductory remarks that they felt "intimidated." I assumed they meant because of the august company--but no, they meant because they had to cover a lot of ground in very little time. And that, my friends, is one of the many reasons why although both of us applied for the same job at UCLA Berkeley in 2012, only one of us got it (and it wasn't me).

here and now

This is from yesterday's hike with L. I'm glad something nice came of it since a few minutes after I took this pic, I slipped on some black ice and ended up flat on my back. I didn't at all feel winded or embarrassed (it was L, after all) and I was thankful that I'd been wearing the very thick hat my in-laws gave me. 

My neck hurts today--not sure if its because I lifted heavier weights than usual, slept wrong, or because I did something to it when I fell.  Anyway, my personal physician will be home tomorrow and I can get checked out then. 

In the meantime, I've been binge reading To Paradise, and getting intensely Edith Wharton vibes from the first part set in a sort of alternative Gilded Age. I also watched The Last Duel, with its immersive medieval ethos. Two historical periods in one weekend is a bit much even for me.

"sisters before misters"

There were no plans to party this weekend, but CF and I were texting yesterday and suddenly there was a plan for a Galentines Party. 

It's Superbowl weekend and I didn't want to go to the store. But I already had the (dollar store) decorations, the puff pastry and candy and nuts and the cake mix I needed. The rest people brought: pink prosecco, brownies, cookies, flowers, and more flowers. Then we downloaded a couple of games and were ready to go. 

It was really small (thanks, Covid) and I love that even so we were such a mix in terms of of gender-sexuality-relationship folks. I love my friends and it turns out that I needed the laughs and the dancing.

where it hurts

This part of my hip, which is hurt, is also the exact spot Scout likes to rest his fuzzy chin on--it's just the perfect gentle pressure.

I earned this afternoon+evening reading To Paradise, drinking cinnamon tea, eating chocolate, the puppies in my lap/on my legs. Big A is at work, I dropped Nu off to visit a friend, and I worked like a fiend yesterday.

I'm coming to the end of the day with deep satisfaction, apparently some days it takes very little to get there.
 

don't look now, I'm changing

I know I'm in the minority here, but I LOVE Facebook. Not the corporation--just the community. 

With family, friends, colleagues, and loves on every continent it's the best way I have to keep in touch with what's going on in people's lives. There are a few chat and text groups that are active all day long (family, cousins, kids), but Facebook is great at filling the gaps in between actual conversations with lots of other people. I can think of so many great ongoing friendships over the last two decades that started as online interactions.

Anyway... I do wish ole FB would let me change my profile pic without making a big production of it. No matter how stealthily I update my picture (the previous one was masked and I was tired of it and the pandemic), the change goes out to other people's timelines. I *cringe* to think that people think I *want* them to notice my new picture or that I *want* them to make soothing comments about aging and all that. I don't mind when the love is for my awesome graduate or my awesome babies, though.

"A Pedagogy of Kindness"

An older article, "The Pedagogy of Kindness" has been making the rounds on social media again and is a good reminder of how much unlearning those of us teach have to undergo. Elite institutions (in my case, Oxford) especially reinforce ideas of privilege, proving oneself, thinking of your cohort as competitors, etc. etc. It took reading bell hooks and June Jordan to discover more inclusive and compassionate forms of learning and teaching are possible. 

June Jordan's electrifying statement in "Outside Language:" “None of us has known enough tenderness” has been my mantra in the classroom for decades now. 

Anyway, I was in my office for meetings today and a kind student gave me this beautiful calendar to say thank-you. Other students may say thank you by undertaking research, accepting additional responsibilities, pioneering new activities and events, or confiding personal struggles--all of which happened today too. I'm so lucky to be doing this work.

a smiley one

Today went better than I imagined. 

Big A was back--we hung out and hung out and hung out and then hammered out some details on our book project; At dropped by unexpectedly to pick up some mail and give Nu a teddy bear from the Sinn Fein store; the three painkillers the vet gave Scout have put him in a happier--and loopier--mood; I got Nu's prescription filled easily and the somewhat transphobic pharmacist didn't give me the runaround this time.

Best of all, I wasn't expecting to have the whole fam together at the dinner table tonight, but it happened! (Although Scout decided to sit at my feet instead of with everyone else.)  So I took a pic for my mom (and me!). 

to feeling better

I wrote: "Time is terrifying" 

later remembering: *kaal--time 

--is one of many names for death

and also just as ordinary as life is

Pointless: the closings, returnings,

emptying into tunnels to spotlight

our origins and pain... this sad sad

diorama of what we never asked for

I am asking for Scout to feel better--

I mean, look--suffering is overrated

really--like anything could make this 

best-est of all friends a better being

________

Pic: I got Scout a new bed so he'd be comfortable when I wasn't around to give him an "uppy" to the couch, but Huck (who can jump up onto every piece of furniture in the house) claimed it first. 

*In Hindi and Sanskrit kaal means time/epoch but can also be another name for the God of Death. I may have been thinking of that subconsciously in the last line of yesterday's entry.

the lovey

One of my favorite pictures of Scout as a puppy: hugging his lovey and watching for the water vole to swim past in the old house. He would get so excited when he saw water voles or bunnies that he'd sit down like he couldn't bear the weight of his surprise. Scout was always the sweetest of my babies.

Anyway long neuro appt today for Scout (from 11 am to nearly 4 pm) and they found some things but are going to pass us on to the ortho dept. They weren't letting anyone but patients in, but I was so anxious that I couldn't understand them on the phone--it was like I lost my capacity for language. So they brought me into a tiny exam room and went over everything with me again. 

I remember pointing out his weakness and everyone trying to convince me that I was imagining it. No one thinks I'm imagining it anymore, it's that obvious.

Time is terrifying sometimes.

red boots

Do Big A and I have matching boots? No--but both our boots do look very red in this picture. 🥰 We walked downtown by ourselves for some fresh air and alone time, got breakfast burritos and coffee, and walked them back to the grandparents' place for brunch. Then we got some final hugs in, put the human kid and the puppy kids in the backseat, and piled back into the car for the trip home. We got back before sunset, unpacked, scrounged up some dinner, and spent a nice and unhurried evening together.

But... I have the biggest case of the 'Sunday Scaries'--anxiety's just shooting up, up, up...  I do have a list of consultations and meetings to accomplish tomorrow, but it's all very do-able. I've prepped and done everything I can, and have been reading compulsively to pass the weekend.

day tripping

An early morning traipse and it's off to Yellow Springs with the fam for a quick trip.

I'm going to have a nice visit with the in-laws without worrying about the list of conference-related stuff I have I've noted on my to-do list (register for my SALA presentation; book a hotel for the student honorary; plan out sessions for Michigan Academy; and solicit papers for NWSA). It's the weekend, and Monday will be here soon enough.

I always thought Nu listened to ABBA because of me/Mamma Mia!, but it turns out that my gay kid loves ABBA, and that playing ABBA Gold will get us halfway to Ohio. 

Boss Day*

It has been a long and busy week, but it's my "Boss Day" (*translation below) today and I knew things were looking up when I saw this "baby rainbow" in the grey sky at the end of my cold ass walk with L this morning. 

I had a massage with R, my lovely gender-fluid masseuse; some Christmas gift cards to spend; and got some tasty treats (milk chocolate pistachios). 

At showed up for dinner, and I got to play Hot Ones at dinner with the fam. The best part was doing a 15-minute Tai Chi session before At left (with Nu, Big A, and the puppies sort of joining us from assorted places around the rumpus room).

Also: I got Wordle in two. 

__________________________________

*Boss Day must be the best thing I ever made up: we celebrate everyone's "birthday" every month. My birthday is on March 4th, so it's my Boss Day on the 4th of every month--At is on the 2nd, Nu the 11th, Scout and Huck the 18th, Big A the 23rd, and so on. I get the "Boss Baby" a small present (usually a book and some treats) and they get to pick dinner (home/restaurant) and a family activity (show/game). It makes for a nice mini celebration every week. We celebrate the puppies on the same day, because it was too confusing for them if only one of them got special treats. I thought I'd link to a few Boss Day posts, but there were too many when I searched "Boss Day."

warmer

Earlier this week, EM drove through the imminent snow storm to bring us a portable Lunar New Year celebration: a dumpling feast, cake, sweet treats, and the traditional red envelope with a money gift for Nu. It was only when I was putting away the bags yesterday, that I found the felt good luck decoration at the bottom... I hung it up with the other ones, and took this picture to send with a thank you message.

(It triggered the memory that the last time we'd eaten out with EM was the Lunar New Year dimsum we had together at the start of the pandemic in 2020. Someday, we'll do that again.)

I wanted something warm to note for today... red is warm; love is warm.

practicing panic

for my head is full of sound

loose in its orbit

like a character in a cartoon

I refuse to choose

perhaps the moon will rise 

out of my chest

into skies of hope-rage-love

bigger than loss

yet for now I'm just watching 

alert from afar

feeling like a new  w o u n d

waiting to scar

________________________________

Pic: So the storm came and the snow stayed. I took this picture from bed this morning, cozy in the knowledge that Nu's school had already declared today a snow day.

the body we lived in

loss hovers here--already a ghost/

formless the way these ghosts are

one hand on my chest, squeezing/

another hand signing what shape

it may take, /how it may unmake 

--with a ghost laugh so loud, /I cry 

"remember!" I want to say; /I ask--

"remember?" there's a way home

crawling amphibian up my spine 

but I'm still waiting/ to be found

my arms outstretched--embracing

/unarmed and ready for the rack

--------------------------------------------------------------

Pic: A hawk (?) by the Red Cedar, spied on my walk with Big A today. 

There was the body of a dead squirrel in the hawk's talons. (Big A kept asking me not to look at the bird and not to go closer. We both agree I tend to be much braver/foolhardier than he is.)

I'm also thinking about bodies and how they can be--or seen as--just one thing or another (/) because of what our poor little Nu said at the pediatrician this morning, and because that child, Brendan Santo, was found recently.