proud teacher

I've been skulking around campus like an obnoxious person of mystery in sunglasses because I scratched my cornea two days ago (while helping myself to a tissue!!). And because it hurts, I've been heading home early and missed the faculty bake-off yesterday and the reception to celebrate LV's tenure today... Boo. 

But I love this part of the semester because students are working on their research projects and I love seeing how fired up they're getting and all the ideas and connections that are taking off. Who knows where that will go. A paper on Baldwin's Sonny's Blues from last year's critical theory class just won first place in Sigma Tau Delta's (the English honorary society's) international convention that concluded in Pittsburgh last week and the society's journal editor asked the student if they could publish it! 

Pic: At the WGS Symposium with one of my student's projects about rehabilitating body dysmorphia in dancers. Their point is that as dancers they always stare at themselves critically in the studio mirror so they wanted to use the mirror as a canvas to enable dancers to write empowering complimentary words for themselves and others.

And on compliments: A couple of weeks ago, when I gave the talk about the Trump administration's rhetoric, a student told me their friend who'd come to the talk with them said I was pretty and had terrific hair--I got so self-conscious, that instead of saying thank you and moving on, I blathered on about but did they like my talk. The next day, Lisa said something nice about my hair as well, and that weekend I reacted awkwardly when something similar happened. L's advice: "A simple thank you will suffice."

"keep fighting the good fight"

Today, I finally got to teach the class I was supposed to teach in prison last October. I was a bit concerned about building rapport with a bunch of adults I'd never met before within the space of a class period, but it went great.

Things that stuck with me:

• In pre-class training, the liaison said that if anyone held the door open for me, I should wave them through first--I shouldn't let anyone walk behind me. (And then they assigned me a Personal Protection Device with an emergency button.)
• But apart from some people in the hallway who were gawking at the classroom, everyone was welcoming and respectful.
• When I mused out loud that the classroom didn't have a clock (and as no smart phones are allowed in the building, I didn't have mine), one of the students gave me his watch to use.
• How eager my students were to laugh at my silly jokes. My kids could stand to take some lessons on how they did NOT roll their eyes. Ha.
• But seriously, 100% of the class wanted to be there, had done their homework, and were active participants.
• How dependent they were on forces completely out of their control--whether the program would continue or not, whether they'd receive funding or not, if people would find the time and inclination to come visit/teach them or not.
• What they said about freedom, the way rehabilitations had been rolled back, how when you grow up hearing gunshots every day, you don't even think to duck. 
• How in the space of two hours, I was already assigning place values to the students as the philosopher, the historian, the memoirist, the media consultant and so on.
• The new things I learned in these texts I've read a zillion times--from my reading of course--but more importantly from the ways other people read, shared, and built on in community. I love this part of teaching so much.
• How they must have picked up on the small coded things I said (there was an official observer in class) about the carceral system, restorative justice, needing a Malcolm in order to have the government negotiate with a Martin, etc. When I answered their question about why I was there, I got a deep "I understand" from the person who asked it. And at the end of the class when we we were taking the desks from the circle and putting them back into the mandated and regimented rows (metaphor much?) three students shook my hand and told me to "keep fighting the good fight."

I will. 

Lots of moving parts to the prison education program currently, but I want to keep being involved. Surprisingly Big A, who usually supports everything I want to do, was a bit taken aback when I mentioned taking this on as an extra class and wondered if I might need to pace myself. 

(Also, I don't like shaking hands. If I resort to my heritage and start offering namastes instead--would that be rude?)

Pic: Spring is really coming! A sunshiny-bright patch of crocuses on the MSU campus.

shashay all day

One of the big reasons Nu wanted to come with me to work was because there was a drag show in town. 

One of the cute things that happened when we went to Admitted-Students' Day last week, was that we bumped into Nu's kindergarten bestie KM. Nu and KM might share a floor as college first-years! Anyway, Nu and KM made plans to hang out at the drag show this evening, and I even got to take them to the bookstore for soup and a sandwich before the show.

Nu liked being in class this morning where one of the things we talked about was why drag freaks powerful people out so much. (Ans. Because it transgresses what society tells us is possible. If we start imagining other possibilities, where will we stop? What if we imagine our way to better healthcare or out of tyranny?)

Anyway, the show was brilliant. And the student organization that organized the show and generously invited us was also absolutely brilliant. The queens are an ensemble out of Detroit, but the DJ is a (Fulbright short-listed) student and it was fun to see them behind a computer as I would in class, just doing very different stuff. The students seemed to have thought of EVERYTHING--on our table were sparkly beads, fun mocktails with umbrellas and crazy straws, zany club glasses, and EVEN cash for us to give to the dancers!

At the end of the night, one of the queens--Jewel Jubilee--said how it was a tough time to be visibly queer in this country, but that as she looked across the young faces in the room she felt strong and that by standing up for each other, we'll all make it through. That's the only time I cried yesterday.

Pic: Two shots of brilliance. 

trash turtles all the way down

I was worried about a dear friend who'd had open heart surgery last week. It made me feel a little better when I got to see their dear face while I dropped off some medication I'd picked up (they can't be alone, so I could either stay with them while their partner picked up the meds or pick up the meds while their partner stayed with them). 

I hadn't heard a peep out of my mom or sis for a whole day. So when the phone rang around 2 am, just as I was putting the puppies and the house to bed, I freaked the fuck out because I thought something was wrong with either my friend or my mom and dad. But no, it was just my mom calling to chat. I think she was a bit thrown off by DST too? Anyway. 

After that, I kept trying to read myself to sleep. Big A was at work, and then he texted to say he'd been attacked by a patient. That was it for sleep last night. I was so sad and worried for him and made him send me pictures and cried over all the scratches and bruises I could see.

And I got to hear the whole story today... I am sad for the patient suffering a psychotic episode in prison and then again in the hospital. I am sad for the security guard who gets paid minimum pay and is expected to put his life on the line--he got attacked first and Big A was trying to help him him when he got attacked too. There are no villains here. It's just awfulness all the way down. I'm just thankful there were no guns involved.
_______________________________
Pic: This made me laugh when I went thrifting this weekend because I needed new books for our Little Free Library (I got some awesome ones). I didn't get these books. They both have the same title--One Bite at a Time--it's just that they couldn't be more different in content: one is a book of recipes for cancer survivors and their caregivers and the other a collection of horror short stories!

round and round we go

Happy St. Patrick's Day! The U.S. Military under the new Defense Secretary has banned cultural awareness celebrations like Black History and Hispanic Heritage, but celebrated St. Patrick's Day today. Oh what could the difference be? I wonder if I can spot it?! 

Seriously though, I'll not begrudge any celebrations of the Irish, who are consistently on the right side of postcolonial and decolonial history. Including today, where there were huge marches for Gaza everywhere in Ireland and their Prime Minister said that he would honor the ICC's arrest warrant if Netanyahu were on Irish soil. 

Which leads me to today's despair: Israel has resumed its bombing of Gaza and 86 children have died in an hour. I don't want to go back to last year and its ceaseless toll of children dying by the hour, my unending vigil and anguish, having to face the goddam cruelty and grief in this world. 

I can't explain the righteous outrage and fear coursing through so many private conversations these days around detentions and "disappearings" of student leaders and dissenters. Over and over again, people are debating if silence / unawareness / disregard is the better option. What can I say... You know that Niemöller poem that begins "first they came..."? It's not a very long poem, is what I'm saying.

Pic: Nu and Big A in the foreground with other students and families in the background at the "Admitted Students' Day" event this weekend. I want to take a moment to celebrate my Nu and their excitement about going to college in the fall. Truly, I did not imagine they'd be so excited... Nu even checks the college cafeteria menu on the online portal every day... it's adorable.  

could that be

Last night, I was hanging out with Max and Huck when Nu showed up in the rumpus room at 2:30 or so... They'd headed for bed hours ago, so I was confused, but they told me they were going outside to see the blood moon...

I had no idea! Nu is in an astronomy class at school and that's where they'd heard! Edcuation! Don't disband the Department of Education!

Anyway, we went outside and it was beautiful and surreal. I liked the reversal of Nu showing me something in nature.

Pic: My blurry phone pic of the blood moon. It's Holi today too, and for once it's warm enough to play outside but I didn't plan ahead.

Helping--Period

Lysne Beckwith Tait, founder of Helping Women Period and author of Instigator: Creating Change Without Being the Loudest Voice in the Room visited my class today. She is wonderful and fun and I find her story of starting a non profit addressing period poverty over the course of a week inspiring. She's responsible for some big changes in Michigan--like getting the tampon tax repealed.

And her "menstrual products petting zoo" is always a big hit. Reusable period products like cups, discs, and period underpants are usually in clamshell packaging in stores. Her "petting zoo" lets people get a feel of the products.

Her anecdote about having a booth at a true crime convention and noticing all the people dressed up as serial killers skirting the period supplies booth is hilarious. I will say menstruation holds little stigma for our current crop of young people. I love that they'll just dig around in their backpacks for a tampon in the middle of class and leave holding it openly. 

The big tip Lysne gave us about affecting change is to decide what change we want to see and then listen to many perspectives on how to affect that change. "Take your ego out of it." Sounds like good but tough advice. 

Pic: Lysne with my class. I love the sassy picture of Lysne we have up on the screen as well!

"Live your life as you meant to live it"

"Live your life as you meant to live it..." That was the response that a fellow panelist gave to a student's question about whether it made sense to apply for a Fulbright scholarship now that federal funding is being pulled and the Department of Education is being disbanded. I thought it was a wonderful reminder not to obey/comply/be defeated in advance. 

I think the talk went well. It was a full house, and I have to love the students who whooped at the end of my presentation and then promptly left. But I'm grateful to be working with colleagues who care about students and our world. 

Note to myself. I've got to stop spending hours upon hours on a presentation that lasts mere minutes, right? But lots of people wanted my slides, so perhaps it will live on in that way. 

Pic: My jasmine is blooming! It's glorious!

everything's still on fire, but at least it's not so cold?

...and everything's an hour earlier because of DST, but at least I got to see this beautiful sunrise on the Maple River on my way to work?

Now it's late and I'm up prepping for my panel talk about the first 50 days of the Trump administration. 

Rather than squandering attention and energy on the administration's own use of language, which is mostly bad faith and bluster, I'm choosing to focus on how to use language to build community and solidarity in the resistance.

This is the description I sent the organizers: 

“Don’t Let the Bastards Grind You Down: Rhetorics of Resistance to the Trump Administration 2.0” will reframe how resistors use verbal and visual rhetoric to organize information, laughter, courage, and counter-memory to resist and counteract the administration’s barrage of bluster and dehumanization. The presentation will focus on the warrant of resistance, the emphases of satire and subversion, the support of counternarratives, and the appeals of solidarity and calls to action. We’ll look at examples from a range of modalities, including maps, flags, crochet, speeches, book displays, annotation, memes, newsletters, poetry, and so on, in order to explore how compassion, solidarity, and humanistic mutual aid are—and can be—practiced.

I better go do all the stuff I said I'd do. Wish me luck!

Things I did not expect but accept gratefully/gracefully

That when I started the birthday fundraiser for The Refugee Development Center, the first two donors would be past students. They are generous grownups doing awesome things in the world now, but it still made me feel like they'd raided their piggy banks. (Overall, we made just over $1000 for the 117 new refugee families in Lansing whose funding for resettlement has been cut by the federal government. Not nearly enough for even one family, but there's another fundraiser today, and I know we're going to do all it takes.)

That I'd find, pick up, and LOVE a romance called Red, White and Royal Blue. It's a pre-pandemic publication in an alternative universe and a very different D.C.; the repartee is wicked and the politics are comfortingly woke. (Yes, I'm reclaiming "woke".)

That Nu would have so much fun hearing my old Oxford escapades and early teaching milestones. "Tell me more" is not something Nu says to me very often! I think their favorite story was about D who came out to me and asked if they could come out in class because it felt like a safe place and they wanted to hear themselves speak their truth out loud. (This happened nearly a decade ago, but D was on my mind because they reached out to wish me for my birthday last week.)

That I would go around telling everyone that I was so glad I didn't have a fall this winter and then promptly fall--but at least I don't seem to have hurt myself seriously. 

That my favorite uncle and aunt would call me to caution me about a talk I'm giving on campus this week about the Rhetorics of Resistance to the Trump administration (they learned about it from my Facebook post). It came from a place of love and I was very patient, but I giggled when they said something about me not being white. (I know!!)

That I would not miss Amazon Prime, Whole Foods, or Target in the least. J canceled her Prime, and that inspired me to cancel too. (We'd canceled it once before but caved during the pandemic.) I've been off Target for nearly two months at this point? With some adjustment, Costco and the supermarket have been able to supply all our needs. 

Pic: L and I walked over to the Indian buffet place for a belated birthday lunch (brunch actually, given today's DST change). Going to the Indian buffet for a birthday celebration has kind of become our thing. We're usually walking or hiking and bundled up against the cold, so we needed to document ourselves in our fancy shawls on this lovely day.

Happy International Women's Day!

It's so different all over the world! In some places, it's a well-deserved day of rest. Here, it is rightly a day of protest and action--especially this year. There was a rousing rally at the capitol this morning.

Then I culled some professional clothing from my closet to donate via L for the Women's Resource Center event. (How many navy blue polka-dot things and black slacks does one person need?!) I would have loved to go, but couldn't because I had to prep for the International Women's Day tea event at MacCurdy House (the feminist house on campus I advise). 

I headed over with finger food, fruit and cookies, and a vase of flowers (from my birthday haul, still going strong). The housies had put out decorations and teacups and were amazing hosts. We had lots of folks show up, so it's good that I over prepped as usual and many mugs of red velvet chai and peppermint tea were quaffed. 

Pic: Raising a cheer for women at MacCurdy. This picture makes me smile back--I love these smart, compassionate, engaged people who showed up for a semi-work event on a Saturday evening. 

And here are some previous iterations: 2024, 2023, 2022, 2020, 2019. (Also, I just went down a rabbit-hole searching "MacCurdy" and finding all the dear faces of people who have graduated and are doing amazing things in the world.)

"Fight Cancer not Canada!"

There is so much happening every day. A rally for science today, a postcard writing campaign and a women's rally and another women's rally tomorrow... L and I plan to divide and conquer there.

Nu wanted to stay home from school. When I sent the school absence report form to the family chat, Big A asked if Nu was just going to take all Fridays off from now on. That's not a bad idea for Nu. Or for me?

Pic: Posters from the Stand Up for Science protest at the Capitol building today. The one that says "Fight Cancer not Canada" is my favorite. Pic by L. 

waiting to be discovered

I come back, back to myself
my ears lost in my hair
skin in hide and seek

while waiting for the rain
while making some tea
I am owed

after I leave I wait to arrive

an endless innovation 

of grief, of joy 

loneliness is only an ongoing

connection with time

strange at its best

I learn how to speak to myself 

in courageous tenderness

and enact rest

________________________

Pic: The kandi bracelet Nu made me and Tiggy-Winkle (after Beatrix Potter) the fidget hedgehog KPB crocheted for me. Aren't they amazing? They look like they could be friends and live together!

Marching Forth Again

I had a full teaching day, talked to my parents on the way to work, got lots of birthday visitors at work, and just... a lovely birthday! 

Friends, thank you for your wishes--I felt surrounded by love all day and your wishes in multiple places helped... I am so blessed and so, so grateful.

I wish I'd come to appreciate the serendipitous significance of my March Fourth/March Forth birthday earlier, but I'm running with it now. This year, apart from fighting fascism, I hope to prioritize working meaningfully on some of my longer projects. This was a new year's resolution that didn't quite take, but this is a good time to reset, I suppose.

Big A texted to say he'd "fucked up the cake." (He usually makes the chocolate cake from the recipe on the back of the Hershey's cocoa box, but there was no Hershey's in the store... and chaos!). It was just terrific, BTW. Went out for sushi with the fam, Nu made me a Kandi bracelet, At gave me books, Big A gave me a leaf blower of my very own so we could have leaf blowing duels and the now-customary card scrawled with all the dear details of our year that makes me cry every time.

(Now I can't wait for tomorrow and to be allowed to do stuff again. My parents used to do this, so I probably brought this tradition with me, but the birthday baby isn't allowed to do *anything* over the birthday weekend and sometimes it makes me feel a bit like I'm on a rest cure.)

Pic: Clockwise--Kids (Nu, At, Max, Huck), cake, me.

Pre-birthday!

Mondays aren't teaching days, so I had a soft reentry to the second half of the term. I got class preps in early, and worked on some reviews for a while. Then the heating tech came by to fix our broken heater. I forgot to mention we didn't have heat over the weekend--thankfully, the hot water was still working and I got by with sweaters and puppies.

Big A and I took off for a hike in Sleepy Hollow State Park, I've wanted to go back with him ever since I went with work friends last month. He downloaded the six-mile loop trail, but I wanted to go around the island too, as it's really picturesque, and then we got lost for a bit--so it ended up being more like eight miles. 

At one point, Big A pointed at a plastic tube and looked at me very meaningfully, and I didn't know what he meant--like was he mad that someone had dropped their chapstick? Turned out it was a shotgun casing. I'd never seen one in my life before. We found a bunch more further down the trail, but didn't meet any hunters.

Birthday cards and a garden catalog (Spring is coming!) were in the mail and we got Subway for dinner as a treat. Online birthday greetings are beginning to trickle in (my school friend's big sis in New Zealand is always the first one to wish me), I've had birthday calls with my sister and my uncle, my birthday fundraiser is over halfway there (I set a bigger goal than usual, fingers crossed), I'm on my way! Yay! 

Pic:Lake Ovid behind me. Sleepy Hollow State Park.

I Get By with a Little Help (Part #10754308659)

When C.D. heard that I hadn't been attending services on Sunday because sitting in silence by myself made me think of Scout and cry, she offered to go with me and hold my hand. (She usually goes to the Methodist church, not U.U.)

When E.M. showed up to write with me and saw the pile of table napkins that needed folding, she wordlessly set to work on the napkins right away.

When the young woman from whom I was going to buy the pond plants said when I showed up: "I don't want your money, I decided to give it to you for free." (I insisted that she take my five dollars anyway. And I think I hurt her feelings. I must remember that sometimes other people want to feel generous too.)

When my M.I.L. wrote in a card that I was "the sweetest and the fiercest." (I'm particularly proud of the fierceness because there are lots of fights I'll need to show up at.)

When L.B. and M.A. showed up early for bookclub to help me arrange things because I'd been working all day. (I'll forever remember the moment when I splashed some dressing, and LB who wouldn't have cared about it at her place knew it would bother me and got me a scrubber before I could turn around.)

(This one for the laughs it brought.) When I bought some pots at the Farmers Market and texted the young person who sold them about how beautiful they were, and they texted back that I was "more beautiful than the pots." My kids have been saying that I'm "more beautiful than pots" ever since.

Things I feel bad about not doing last week: Saying I'd help with cleaning up the Lansing Riverwalk and then not showing up. Turning down three students who wanted me to write recommendation letters for them--I'm not sure why they asked me since they'd never been in my classes, but still. "No" doesn't come easy.

Pic: A screengrab of Jane Fonda's acceptance speech of the SAG-AFTRA lifetime achievement award. What she says about staying in community and helping the vulnerable really spoke to me. The whole speech is here.

March ahead

Oh, the dread that descended as I thought and wrote, "Midterm break is over" at the end of yesterday's post. 

The thing is, the week has been non-stop. I worked with the Baldwin Prize people out of Baltimore from Friday. I judged scores of papers for the national English Literature honorary society (Sigma Tau Delta) all week ahead of the convention at the end of March--the deadline for that was yesterday. 

And I chaired the Women's and Gender Studies panel of the Michigan Academy conference yesterday, but also had to go to the Board Meeting which ran late on Thursday because somehow I'm now a board member. And I had a paper at the conference with EM, so we had to work on that all week too, finishing up in a burst of energy after dinner together on Wednesday.

And then I realized that we didn't have any speakers for Women's History Month, so I scrambled and used my professional connections and asked nicely and got two amazing speakers for us-- Heidi Lewis, President of the National Women's Studies Association, (via Zoom) and Lysne Beckwith Tait, Founder of Helping Women Period, (in person). I got some other activities arranged on the Women's History Month calendar too (a student symposium, International Women's Day Tea) but these things are more within my own control. When you work at a small college, one wears a lot of hats.

And then some bad news: The editor of an anthology where I had an accepted submission said The University of Louisiana Press had decided not to go ahead with publication. But in the wings, another anthology submission needed urgent copy-edits approval. The copy editor wanted to remove the parenthetical notation of the novels' dates of publication on introduction--I think it's highly pertinent? Anyway, some back and forth on that. 

And as of this morning, back to regular upkeep of Canvas pages and class preps for my classes. (And oh, I graded *everything* by Tuesday.)

Looking ahead, there are additional things I've agreed to. There's a class for incarcerated students on the 18th--I'd already prepped this last year but didn't get to do it and I'm looking forward to it. And also I'm going to be on a campus-wide panel talking about 50 days of this administration on the 12th--that should be fun (NOT!).

I guess it's a good thing we had a midterm break so I could work on these things without juggling regular classes as well.

Happy March! Marching ahead! (Also, I'm glad I didn't take off for Turkey!! Neither did my mom and sis, actually.)

Pic: From under the Beal Street Bridge. A thin glaze of ice on The Red Cedar; brilliant blue skies and bitingly cold winds. I walked and walked and walked to clear my head.

wanting the kids to be alright

I found it so strange that two book clubs meeting this week read novels that were centered on missing kids. I don't think I'd have felt like reading either of these when I had younger kids myself. When I told EM this she chalked it up to me being likely to imagine At and Nu as the missing kids. Probably. I could barely bear reading these even with grown kids. And I doubt those worries go away entirely--Nu still texts when they get to school; At is off to Seattle tomorrow and will send travel updates. (Both at least partly per my request.)

I finished grading all the midterms this morning. (I'm teaching only two classes right now because I'm teaching a May-term this year as well, so it was relatively easy.) I'm so immensely proud of the way my students are thinking through problems and phenomena and coming up with amazing theses. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if I saw something like this as an abstract in a professional journal: "When reading Amelia Lanyer’s “Eve’s Apology in Defense of Women” I was struck by how much it reminded me of but also contrasted with John Milton’s Paradise Lost; both works reinterpret the story of Adam and Eve, and were published in the 1600s. I remember that Milton reinterprets Adam eating the forbidden fruit as an act of love for Eve since he knows that she will die and can’t bear to live immortally without her. If this interpretation (and memory of it) are correct, it could be interesting to contrast this to what Lanyer does with Eve, interpreting her giving the fruit to Adam as a similar act of love.These are just the beginnings of an idea, though, and I would have to modify it to better fit the vision of the assignment outlined in the directions." Interstitially, as students write out their ideas I get to learn about personal details here and there and am humbled by how much so many of them have to combat to show up and keep on. Each of those circumstances is made even more heavy by the antics of the current administration. I'm so weary of all this chaos and cruelty.

Pic: These book covers are so pretty, especially dappled by sunlight like this. I know I'm making something blueberry themed for The Berry Pickers bookclub on Friday. What is the alarming 3-D seeming Pepto-pink drip on The God of the Woods supposed to be?! (OK, I googled--it's the pink coverup paint in Barbara's bedroom.)

"should I stay or should I go"

"Good Morning Akka," my baby sis texted me around 2:30 am... and then my mom got on the chat too and the three of us we were just... yakking for a while... (This is one of the many reasons my sleep patterns are so fucked.) And then, things got urgent. My mom who watches a lot of Turkish TV shows and has wanted to go to Turkey for a while and knows that Istanbul is huge on my list of places to visit because I'm a history nerd suggested we all go to Turkey together. She'd pay for my air ticket, she said. The three of us could share a suite. How about next week? We should go!

I asked Big A if I should go. (That's right, he usually works nights, so he was up reading beside me too; yet another reason my sleep is messed up.) He said to go for it. I have midterm break coming up next week and so I thought I could actually do it. But this morning, I looked at my calendar and realized that next week I'm in charge of the WGS sessions of the Michigan Academy conference and have board meetings, and am not completely off. Also, I was kind of looking forward to unwinding for a bit, and I'm a bit freaked out about planes falling out the sky. I'll probably stay.

I'm glad to see my mom is willing to spend that much money though. This was probably going to come from her "kum-kum money." (Kum-kum is sindoor/vermillion/the red powder Hindu women use in their hair as a marker of their married status.) Back in the day before middle-class Indian women worked, this was the money families gave their daughters when they got married so they wouldn't have to ask their husbands when they wanted to treat themselves to something. In Victorian novels, "Pin Money" seems to work this way? The amount varied according to the family. My grandmother's kum-kum money at her wedding was several mango orchards and required a manager and became the inheritance handed down to her own four daughters (including my mother). Unofficially, kum-kum money also worked as an emergency fund that could help women leave, if they decided they should go. 

Although Big A and I have everything in both our names, I still (and always will) have my kum-kum money in a separate account (I promised my parents this). And it's going to come in useful because just this morning, someone dear said they'd need help making their mortgage this month, and I know without consulting anyone that I am going to be able to be able to help. They'll be able to stay. 

Pic: Jumble of things on a shelf at work. I love that picture in the center with At reading to Nu so much... This was also around the time At had just discovered The Clash and loved belting out "Should I Stay or Should I go" as a punchline to everything.

stay unruly

In a recent post StephLove mentioned how when she visited her kid at Oberlin, she was "charmed by paper snowflakes in the windows surrounding a “Free Palestine” sign" because it made her "think about what it’s like to be in college, close enough to your childhood to make paper snowflakes, but old enough to be politically engaged."

I've thought about that image often since reading it, and it always makes me smile. It is particularly endearing. And it describes young people and their hopefulness and creativity perfectly... 

And in some way it also describes everyone I know. 

All of us making time outside of mandated work to create something or reach out to someone or share thoughts or start a conversation or make a difference are pushing back against a system that's built to keep people in narrowly-defined and isolated channels. 

I love the unruly nature of this. The system cannot rule us.

Yesterday, I looked up from typing just in time to see Nu (probably taking a break from homework) pick up an old party-favor-bubble-bottle that has been sitting on the table forever and blow out a stream of bubbles. I'm glad I caught that. That bubbling moment of playfulness in my child and the unexpected bubbles in my day.

Pic: Outside the window, are the icicles I think of as "the fangs of winter." Inside, my jasmine is budding profusely. Last May, a single bloom was so fragrant I nearly went mad with happiness. Fingers crossed for these buds.