to be able to see clearly

The day started with Jim Obergefell's voice on the radio to celebrate 10 years of marriage equality (how nice that it seems like longer!) and a long chat with bestie KB on her way to work. 

So it should have been a good day. 

But something KB told me kept haunting me. Apparently, an erstwhile colleague has been charged with sexually abusing a student. I've had this experience before where someone, who seemed like a good person and was exceedingly kind to me, turned out to have been abusive to the young people in his care. How completely unforgivable. And how sad, disturbing, and disappointing that I wasn't able to see it at the time and intervene before any harm was done. 

Pic: I can buy myself flowers... I  bought some water hyacinths and water lilies at Preuss Pets today (where I took this photo). Apparently, I can welcome veritable crowds to parties all year round without worrying about how the house looks, but I want things to look really spiffy for my mom and sis! (I also bought two lamps!)

the hits keep coming

I worked in the garden for six hours straight, with Max and Huck for company now and again, because I could not bear to be around the radio or my computer. I planted, replanted, cleaned the pond, fixed some fencing, and weeded a ton. They say we had a heat wave today. I guess? It was very hot and I was a sweaty mess by the time I decided to head back in. (I barely sweat usually, so this is kind of a big deal.) 

Also, I noticed flat white spots on my legs last week. I think I have IGH (Idiopathic Guttate Hypomelanosis). (Self-diagnosis via Google, and Big A concurs.) I thought it was age-related--like liver spots only in reverse, but no--it's because I'm such a sun-seeker. Also, as a proper Indian person, my first thought was leprosy, and it reminded me of the summer all the adults in the family tested me for leprosy with a safety pin.  

In serious health news, MIL had a mini stroke and has a cardioversion scheduled for next week. She would like me to enjoy my visit with my mom, but I wish I could go / feel like I should go be with her. In any case, this reminder of how quickly people's health can undergo a shift is unwelcome.

And world news continues to be awful. Children are eating dirt in Gaza while trucks with food to feed a million people are blockaded a few miles away. Plus we seem to be drifting into a war. I'm sorry for all the people in the bombed cities in Iran, but I was particularly devastated to hear Isfahan was one of them. I always longed to visit that ancient city known as "half the world." Also, I didn't think I'd be grateful for discrimination, but at least the military won't want my trans kids.

Pic: Yesterday I stopped by my office to pick up some books and water my plants and saw the college spirit rock had new colors. I wonder if it's the work of new Indian students or new Irish students. I've always loved how the mutual flag colors represent the alliances between the Irish and Indian independence movements. 

second-best

My sister's two-week trip to visit me might feel more like a one-week trip because she'll visit two very dear friends as well. Those trips are as short as they can possibly be--three days each, one day to travel each way and one day there.

To be able to write that down calmly without bursting into tears has taken me all of a week. It felt so petty to begrudge the other visits, but I imagined two whole weeks to ourselves with lots of downtime. Now it'll be a slightly busier schedule, but still so good.

Anyway, trivia today--just me, Big A, AH, and SD. We got second place after leading until the final wager round.

Pic: A shelter in progress? Along the banks of the Red Cedar.

Three Things from Tuesday's to do/done list

1) Trip to Ikea with Nu this morning. Our plan was to blast our Indian (Hindi, Telugu, + Tamil) playlist and I would translate key parts of the chorus for Nu. But the first few songs had predominantly English lyrics. "Oh, are they saying, 'Take the world and paint it red'?" Nu asked archly of this song, for instance. So we were laughing about that, and then Nu fell asleep. On the way back Nu played me their new fave artist--a Swedish rapper called Bladee (who raps in English). The auto-synth gave me a headache, but I was a good sport because the lyrics provided ample cues to talk about mental health, relationships, drugs, and sex.

2) I fixed my bad record of not submitting any poetry this year by turning in a submission last week... and received a rejection. (And immediately began to worry that I'll NEVER place another poem EVER again.)

3) In yet another marathon gabfest this evening with the CUN(ext)T(uesday) friends, I got excellent advice as usual. I need to work on making those long overdue (by years and years) medical appointments. I feel I'm very in tune with my body and don't need preventative tests, but I'm probably just telling myself that because I find mammograms and pap smears very uncomfortable. And while vaguely on medical subjects, I have to say the woman who helped me place Nu's contact lenses order was an absolute gem--not only did she find a $150 rebate, she called me five minutes after our call to say she'd convinced my patchy eye-insurance to pay up another $120.

Pic: Three canoes on The Red Cedar from my long walk yesterday. 

I got my way, but not the puppy

The third puppy was an impulse wish, so things may change yet again, but for now--I don't think I'm getting Legolas (Lego). 

Friends were uniformly supportive in their encouragement. To Big A's caution that three puppies might be excessive, LV scoffed that SIX might SEEM excessive, but not three. That still makes me laugh.

Big A, At, and Nu came around. (My mom used to say that I like to test people who love me. That sounds awful, and I probably do. But I don't think I was yearning for a puppy to test them.) 

Ultimately, it was another family member who changed my mind. We had a lot of visitors last week, and I noticed Max is a bit shy and seems to need his mama more than Huck or Scout did. He's usually rambunctious, so this public persona is a bit surprising. It made me feel like he's still a baby and needs more time as the baby of the family. 

Pic: Baker Woods with L. It was an explosion of green the moment I stepped in. So different from two months ago when I was last there with Lisa.

A Diamond Birthday in D.C.

My M.I.L. was so excited when I sent her the link to the NYT article on the Minè Okubo exhibition in the Smithsonian. Given the family connection, I knew we had to take her see it and that it would make a lovely 75th birthday celebration for her.

It's working out nicely. Both her kids, grandkids (my human kids), and I are planning to head to D.C. the weekend before the exhibition closes. 

I have D.C. friends like SD, whom I met nearly 30 years ago in Jerusalem, I'll want to see while there. And I'd LOVE to see blog friends StephLove and "Subway" Steph, if they have the time+inclination.

Pic: This seagull(?) who stayed perched up there the whole time we were on the beach yesterday.

ceremony (and the start of summer)

I guess I'm still not American enough. Why don't they hold graduation in their own auditorium, I wondered. The high school auditorium is pretty huge, but not Big-Ten university basketball stadium huge, which apparently is the size you'd need to accommodate Nu's graduating class and and their families.

(Incidentally, "accommodate" is a word Magic Johnson, once a player at this very stadium, used very inventively. As in: "I did my best to accommodate as many women as I could." They have his name up there and it reminded me.) 

Anyway, it was a full day--breakfast with one set of grandparents, lunch with another, then off to pick up people for the ceremony, and back at our place for dinner... Nu is currently away celebrating with friends.

I can't wait to get into my summer routine. Tomorrow we have an all-day department workshop. So perhaps I can start from this weekend, which conveniently happens to be the beginning of June? Yay!

Pic: Watching as the students throw their caps into the air. How much hope for the future is gathered in this one place! I clapped for each and every graduate and am so happy and hopeful for all of them.  I wish admin could have found a way to spend a moment to honor the senior student who died last year. 

"pediatricians are the best"

Pic: Cousin N took this picture of At and me with our fresh wedding henna. Earlier, when she saw At, she took one look and swept in for a big hug saying At looked beautiful. She didn't pause for questions about names, pronouns, histories... At beamed. There's such a sense of relief being with my kids in an accepting place. 

When I texted Big A about Cousin N, he texted back that pediatricians are the best. (Cousin N used to be At's pediatrician when At was a toddler, actually.)

And Cousin K, the bride, has just matched with the pediatrics residency program at New York presbyterian. She's very good with kids too and the reason why Nu, so notoriously averse to big gatherings, decided to do this trip--because toddler Nu was a big fan of Cousin K.

tea and ceasefire

Pic: A proper afternoon tea at The Orangery in Kensington Palace. Our day of indulgence!

And a good day to revisit the wonder of how the world has only two words for tea: Tea if by Sea, Cha if by Land.

Back home in Michigan, the morels are up. I want to tell Summer to hold back until I get back.

Feeling a bit lighter as we're are halfway through our trip and the countdown to home is ON.

And when I called my mom for Mother's Day, I heard India and Pak have a ceasefire! I'm so relieved!!

"Facts Tell; Stories Sell"

I'm a bit of a ninny when it comes to navigating my way on the Tube and around London. I'm so thankful for the students who have the knack for it and help seamlessly. 

But today was one of our days to head to Oxford, and I know my way around that city SO well. We had our lecture in a seminar room at Pitt Rivers Museum, which a student aptly called "hodgepodge museum." I mean there are cases generically titled "the human form in art" stuffed with artifacts from disparate eras and areas. Our lecture was with the wonderful Will Allen who gave us the nugget that is today's post title. When advising people on immigration data, he said he always tries to give them a story to take away. 

I had to do a fair amount of in loco parentis-ing today and hope it was helpful. Later, I snoozed off on the bus to students good-naturedly arguing about video games and then dreamt about them. In my dream they were racing each other down the sidewalk and laughing hard and my father watching them from the other side of the street with me, asked me in the indulgent, tender way he has if these were my kids. I guess they are.

Pic: Our class on the steps of the Sheldonian Theater. It is the center of Oxford (and where my diploma ceremony took place!) but the building is important to our class for another reason. It is where Chimamanda Adichie's deservedly viral talk The Danger of a Single Story was recorded.

Multicultural Metropole

Our class went to Metropolitan University for a talk with Sunny Singh today. I had the same soft argument with Sunny as I've previously had with Big A. Sunny and Big A think Ta-Nehisi Coates is being lionized for "doing the bare minimum in speaking out against genocide" while I'm grateful that when so many continue to be silent, he's using his platform and risking his career. 

If I'm all cosmopolitanism this and kumbaya that, Sunny leads with a reckoning of "enslavement, colonialism, and genocide." She was dropping truth bombs and later I had to check in with students who were visibly upset and trembling. One of them said that it just hit them that their taxes would always fund genocides they didn't believe in. Devastating. 

Later a nice meander through Altab Ali Park, Bangladeshi Brick Lane, and Spitalfields Market to round off our morning of multicultural London. 

Pic: A bonus song at the end of Six, when the cast encouraged us to take pictures. It's a weird energy to check out a musical when you're homesick and worried about so many things in the world. But also, I don't know what I'm supposed to do with myself while stranded halfway across the world, doing my job like everything is normal. It's my mom's birthday and I had a nice chat with her--can't say it helped my homesickness or my worry. 

"Come What May, We're Here to Stay"

Afternoon lectures today at the University of London via colleagues River Baars and Lola Olufemi. River's lecture was about British Asian Youth Movements (AYMs), and as promised, they "seamlessly" integrated the supreme court decision about Palestine and the biological definition of woman into their lecture. Students were blown away by Lola's radical revisioning of time and multidirectionality. "I feel like my brain grew three sizes," I heard someone comment.

In our morning session we connected the cosmopolitan threads linking a bunch of stuff from Eddy Grant's dancehall hit "Electric Avenue" and the Brixton Uprising to Stokley Carmichael/Kwame Ture sparking the Black resistance in the UK. The cross-cultural solidarities amongst everyone "politically black" in the UK is particularly heartening with British Asian Youth Movements supporting everything from Black Lives Matter to the Bradford 12. Today's post title is one their lasting slogans. But I like the one they borrowed from The Children of Soweto too: Don't Mourn; Organize!" I know that'll play in my head the next time I'm worried about the world.

Pic: A mural at the top of our street with the words "No child should be a part of war. Ever." I expected to get homesick and sad next week, but I'm--inexplicably--already there. AND after I wrote that, I found out from a text DV sent me just now that India and Pakistan are at war. I called my family, and they tried to calm me by saying the south is usually safer. But also that they're having "mock drills" today to prepare. It all feels so surreal.

family worries

Around my sister's birthday, she seemed to think her job was in jeopardy, and it turns out she was right. She spoke to H.R. yesterday and will be leaving the company at the end of the month (She is a Managing Director at Accenture). This will mean some upheaval for all of us since our parents are currently on her health insurance, but we'll have to figure it out. She's been looking for a lateral move for a couple of months, but feels her age is working against her. I'm very worried about all of this.

And I have a tiny worry about Nu. It feels silly to say it out loud, given the state of the world. But Nu  has worn the same seven shirts (washing them like clockwork every week) and Converses for at least three years now--everything is faded and falling apart. It's very environmentally responsible and it's waaaay better than being trendy just to add to the world's trash. But for some reason it makes me sad that my child is limiting themselves this way. When I've brought it up, Nu will rightly point out that they consume a lot of baked goods, CDs, books, and skincare products so they're not exactly an ascetic. 

Pic: Huck and Max went to the groomer and came back with spring-themed bandannas that say: "Finally Spring!" And it cheers me up just to look at it. Nu's disdain for the gender-themed blue and pink was also entertaining.

that it's only a doorway, that I'm only a door

So I go bravely before memory
pet my parents so gently
and secretly check 

that they breathe

the day begins or it does not
I can no longer joyride

on his shoulders or
straddle her hip

I fly them in on my thoughts
my rictus of yearning 

like a formal exit 

finding a soul

to write them everywhere 

like graffiti, follow

them everywhere 

like a ghost

______________

Note: There was a period in childhood where I was terrified my parents would die in their sleep. (They were perfectly healthy; everyone's parents in books were always dying though.) I would usually check their breath from the doorway of their bedroom. But my mom says she's woken up to me standing by her bed. (I might have died if I woke up to find someone staring down at me.)

____________________

Pic: Nu and I loved this puzzle we found at the bookstore, and we loved that someone had already put all the pieces together!

Oh, and Happy World Poetry Day!

a very short journey to Varanasi

when  the priest  says it's time to wed

the groom declares he must leave now

he will go on a pilgrimage to Varanasi 

where  he yearns to become a scholar 

the  bride's brother  hurries after  him

with an umbrella, a brass pot of water

come back, he pleads, marry my sister

he waves the umbrella over the groom

who  is already dressed for a wedding

he  carefully washes  the  groom's feet 

with turmeric water from the brass pot 

in which marigold and rose petals float 

to soften his pleas, his clear entreaties...

the groom eagerly agrees, then presents 

his brother-in-law-to-be with a gold ring 

the wedding carries on as it was meant to

_____________________________________

Note: In South Indian Hindu wedding ceremonies there is a part called the Kasi Yatra (Pilgrimage to Kasi-Varanasi) which is such a little piece of theater. The groom declares that he's decided to continue being a bachelor student-scholar and takes a little ceremonial walk pretending to take off to the scholarly city Varanasi while the bride's brother is despatched to beg him to return to the wedding. They say it is to mark the passage of the groom from the state of bachelorhood to that of a householder. But it seems like a lot of drama. Haha. The groom is expected to give his brother-in-law-to-be a precious ring to reward him. My uncle still wears the ring my father gave him.

like a drawing of myself

the body's shape is true 
its wisdom is intact 

my limbs chaste

perhaps not an immortal 

but never expendable

still a chosen one 

my frame rich and heavy 

as the best garden

vivid and fat

my self feels anonymous

wants to answer now

seeks surrender

______________________

Pic: My mom and sister sent me a photo of themselves playing holi with friends yesterday! It gave me joy just to look at it and made me me want to schedule a Holi date for later this month when things calm down a bit. I love how holi anonymizes everyone... you can barely tell who's who and can't tell their gender/age/class/color.

I can't get no (dis)satisfaction

Feeling a bit angsty today: 

So my very loving aunt and uncle who were worried about me live in India and are low-key amused by our President and prone to saying he's right about some things. I'm so sad-mad about this disconnect--the guy they like is the reason racism is on the rise and they have to be afraid for me! 

I'm glad I was able to get weekly events going for Women's History Month... I've always been happy to help with this, but it's not my job. There are people in charge of this kind of programming. Why aren't they doing it?

The next time I go on a walk by myself, I'm putting my phone on mute. Just saying. I'm sure my family can figure out whether someone is at the door by themselves and I don't need to know that the heat is out again or that the puppies made a mess until I get home. 

Bestie KB's dad died last night. He had been in decline and then was in hospice care, but somehow I thought they still had some more time. This is like what happened with Lisa's uncle (and KB is in MPLS too). I am so sad for KB plus this makes me fretful because my professor's dad died last week too, and it's making me anxious about my own aging dad. (Nu's passport is messed up because of the Trump administration and now I don't know if we're going to be able to visit my dad in India this summer... ugh)

Pic: Well... at least the skies are blue and the trees are greening again...

connecting

Last month Lisa introduced me to Jeanie, who lives and writes in my city and whom Lisa has known for twenty+ years. It has been lovely getting to know Jeanie online and then maddening to realize that we'd been at the same show of 9 to 5  but missed meeting each other and then a bit amusing to realize from a casual comment about a fundraiser for local transitional housing that our partners are in the same bicycling club. We do have concrete plans for a blogger meetup in April, but I suspect/hope we'll bump into each other before too long. 

As if all this online excitement wasn't enough, my week was sublimely elevated when I received J's lovely Mary Cassatt postcard in the mail. It took me back to when J visited the Cassatt exhibit as part of her birthday celebration in soft December sunshine in California. And as our Michigan temperatures climbed out of freezing this weekend, it felt like J's card was weaving a benevolent influence.

I was thinking of the ways we are all connected in millions of ways as I was coming home yesterday from visiting my sister's school friend, who is in some ways an intrinsic part of my sister's inner circle and community and hence mine on some level. 

I love all the stories we know about each other, all the ideas and hopes we get from each other, all the ways we know we are not alone in this world.

Pic: The spectacular sunset on my way home yesterday. Our world can be so beautiful. 

"life is never just one thing"

I didn't see Big A at all today. He'd worked an overnight in Ann Arbor and I left for work an hour before dawn to make it to an 8 am meeting. By the time I got home after a late evening at work, he'd already left for work again. 

But to quote Connie Schultz, "Life is never just one thing;" other than that, it was a lovely day. 

We inducted new members to the English honorary and it's always such a delight to see students dressed up for the occasion and meet their families. I mean... you think you see your students grow in the classroom and love their work and the people they are and then you meet their families and it's a whole new level of understanding how much they're cherished, seeing the wonder their grownups have about these humans they have made in one way or another. It's kind of transcendent. 

Also, somehow I was going to place an order with the catering company and then decided to do it myself and found myself after classes at MacCurdy (the feminist house I advise) borrowing their oven to heat up trays of hors d'oeuvres. And also, I have the best colleagues... ok, the best women colleagues--who seamlessly did everything from setup to clear-up. The whole evening was busy and bright and social and fun--all the stuff I adore. 

And then when I came home I was so tired I couldn't even bear the sound of the loud TV show Nu (who had no school today and has no school tomorrow because of our frigid temps) had on. I just wanted to sit with my arms around my babies for while. Then Nu went to bed, I FaceTimed my sister for her birthday (it's already her birthday in India!), and then snuggled up to read with Max and Huck.

Pic: This treat of lovely words and signature shortbread was waiting for me after my first class today. I did work hard today, but this wasn't about that. It's from a lovely and private colleague in another department and says way more about their wonderfulness than anything it might imply about me.

"practice the art of resilience"

Many things did not go according to plan today--I got behind on a couple of tasks, my massage therapist canceled, I broke one of my favorite dishes as I was readying dinner, I burnt two parathas and also my hand, I accidentally heard a few snippets of news about the inauguration, and was surprised and saddened by news that Cecile Richards had died (that's when I lost focus and burned my hand, actually)...

But the title of this article played in my head like a mantra: "With their lives upended, they practiced the art of resilience." It's a story about a new exhibition at the Smithsonian featuring the work of three Japanese-American artists, two of whom had been incarcerated in internment camps during World War II. One of them, Miné Okubo, later wrote the book Citizen 13660 about her life in the camps--Big A's grandfather, Harold, was instrumental in getting that book published as she notes in the introduction. 

We'd been talking about taking a trip to D.C. to see the exhibition yesterday because of this connection... But also, I'll take every reminder of people going through terrible times and making it out to the other side. 

Pic: Nu showing me which kid they resemble on one of our treasured Miné Okubos--She gave Big A's grandparents a few of her paintings as gifts over the years they stayed in touch.