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After Umpqua Community College
October 1, 2015
The first thing I read that day was a thread from a professional listserv. A professor asking advice from colleagues about how to deal, and help her class deal, with the shooting of a student.
The first thing I wrote that day was a conference proposal about the ethics of writing center sessions, and their connection to diversity and inclusivity
Because I had several writing tasks that day, I kept myself away from social media and news sites. It wasn’t until after lunch that I heard about the massacre at Umpqua Community College.
The Pacific Northwest is a large place. Physically, I am not from anywhere near Umpqua Community College. I did, however, begin my educational career at a community college in the Pacific Northwest; perhaps, that is why this particular incident of school violence feels different to me.
Grays Harbor College entry, Aberdeen, WA USA
Image from here, couldn’t find appropriate credit.
Though I went to community college in Washington and perhaps things are different in Oregon, the community college mission is so closely tied to region and place that I feel comfortable generalizing a little bit from my own experience. With the caveat that I am only speaking from my experience as a student: Community colleges in the Pacific Northwest are different than I have seen elsewhere, because, though they provide technical support and programs, they function more like junior colleges preparing students for transfer to four year schools.
I do not joke, or exaggerate, when I say that the best part of my education happen at that community college. I learned how to think; In a 10 week quarter learning community, I did nearly as much writing as I would do for my dissertation. Most importantly, my time in the community college classroom introduced to the importance of diversity of all kinds in the classroom. My community college classroom included traditional students fresh out of high school, recent returners, like me, with a year or two of “real world” experience, grown men and women forced into retraining by the declining industries in our area. Throughout my studies there I learned to work with people of different faiths, races, sexuality, and abilities. Was I always the best friend and all I could be, no; I was naive, and I was learning.
Cardiac Lane stairs at Grays Harbor College
Of course, I wasn’t able to articulate the importance of my experience in that Northwest community college until I left it. Until I sat in an undergraduate classroom where everyone there looked the same, and though I couldn’t articulate it, I knew we were missing important perspectives. Until I moved south where I could really learn about race, racism, and how my silence and support was sometimes better than my best intentions. Until I taught at a community college where technical programs were valued over liberal and general education courses.
Certainly, my image of my community college is tinted in the rosy glow of nostalgia, but even so I would never have called it an idyll or safe space. I was pushed, challenged, and yes … sometimes it was uncomfortable, but I was never afraid. Having been away, having my own new perspective, it was that little difference; my confidence in my physical safety, that allowed me to accept the push, the challenge, and the discomfort of my community college education. That is the little difference, the confidence in their physical safety, that the students of Umpqua Community College, and many other community colleges lost yesterday. As I grieve for the lives lost, the lives irrevocably altered, I also grieve for that lost confidence, the lost element that enabled so much of my own learning.
One of the posters to that thread on the professional listserv reminded everyone of “the question from Mary Rose O’Reilly that Claude Mark Hurlbert put before us at IUP: “Is it possible to teach English so that people stop killing each other?””
Perhaps, I am not the English teacher I thought I would be when I was at the community college. Heck, I am not even the English teacher I thought I would be in grad school. As of October 1, 2105 though, I am an English teacher ready to wrestle with this question; to do everything in my power to “teach English so that people stop killing each other.”
Changing Locations
Last week, after packing up the house and putting everything on a trailer, we loaded up the animals and said good bye to North Carolina. After three days on the road, we were back in Minnesota and ready to spend a weekend with the In-Laws. Sunday morning we re-loaded the animals for one last four hour car ride, and headed even farther north to our new home in Bemidji.
It has been a long time since the DH and I lived in Minnesota, even longer since either of us lived this far north. We both have a healthy fear of what this winter will bring, but for now I am basking in the blue of the sky up here.
I know the blue of North Carolina skies is supposed to be magical and all that, but can you believe this? I love it.
In June I accepted a position at Bemidji State University, and in just ten days I will start there as an Assistant Professor of English/Writing Center Director. It was a little sad to leave NC State when most of the consultants were off for the summer, but I am excited about this new opportunity.
What I am not excited about just now is the state of my life, which greatly resembles the state of our house.
At least everything is finally set up enough that I can write. Each morning I come into the downstairs office to work on my syllabi. Each morning I have my breakfast and coffee with Ceasescu’s new squirrel friend. (Look past Ceausescu and you can just seem him.)
Squirrels are noisy eaters, by the way.
All the animals have acclimated pretty well. The dogs had a long day Tuesday when we unloaded the truck, and the cable guy came to the house. They were quiet in their crates, but shaking and nervous the whole time. They all seem to love the extra space in this house though, and the yard. The dogs LOVE the yard, lots of space to run around in. The DH thinks they know this is home now, but I am not so sure. I think they are waiting for us to pick them up and put them in the car for another three days.
Maybe I am just projecting my own disbelief and wariness onto the animals. Yes, I left NC State and moved, but I haven’t started the new job yet. It makes everything feel a little unreal and tenuous.
Reading Habits
Though I often think about it, I rarely post reviews of what I’m reading here for several reasons. Often what I am reading is something academic, and it is boring enough to read that stuff let alone write reviews of it. Do you really want to hear about Geographies of Writing: Inhabiting Places and Encountering Difference, or Talk about Writing: The Tutoring Strategies of Experienced Writing Center Tutors (both are really good by the way)? How about the fact that I cannot wait to get a copy of Hospitality and Authoring: An Essay for the English Profession? I bet you can wait to hear about that right?
Then there is my Post-Dissertation Stress Disorder (PDSD). No, I am not trying to minimize, or be disrespectful, to anyone suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) by equating the stress of graduate work to PTSD. I do, however, think that graduate work, and dissertation writing in particular, breaks you down in ways that require significant recovery when it is all over. For me, I have noticed writing is not something I am doing for fun anymore, even when I want to (notice the lack of posts here). Finishing books is also something I’m terrible at right now. Terrible. If I reviewed every book I picked up here, I could line up posts, but since finishing a book is a requirement of reviewing it … you get the idea.
There is an additional element to not finishing. I’ve been trying to read more books electronically. I have a nice Kindle collection going, and I think I’ve truly finished three of them. It is awful. Part of the problem is that they just aren’t visible. There isn’t a pile of books laying around the house guilting me into finishing them. The other problem is that when I do open up my app and read it doesn’t feel like I am getting anywhere. I recently realized I like to see my place in a book progress. It is not just about progress, I like to know how much of a story I have left. Seeing that I am 37 or 42% done with a book doesn’t really help me there.
Despite these failures, I do faithfully finish two books every month, my audiobooks. Though I do sometimes listen to respectable books like, The Invisible Woman by Claire Tomalin, pulp is probably the best way to describe my audible library. There is an embarrassing amount of Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Johnathan Maberry, Jeffery Deaver, Ann Rule, Lisa Gardiner, and Tess Gerritsen in there, not to mention the zombie fiction. My audiobooks are my escape. I listen as I commute to work, cook, clean house, and sometimes walk around the neighborhood. They are a way for me to indulge myself, yet still feel like I have accomplished something.
All of this is to say, this month I read/listened to something I want to talk about. The fact that I love mysteries and detective fiction is no secret. I am always on the look out for a new series to capture me. When I find one I generally listen until I am caught up, and have to wait for the next installment. (Cody McFadyen really needs to get the next Smoky Barrett book out.) This month I tried Elizabeth Heiter’s Hunted (The Profiler). It is the first book in her Evelyn Baine series. The book is good enough for me to stick around with the series, some rocky places, some unanswered questions, like any first book in a series. What is interesting about this book for me is that Evelyn Baine is bi-racial. Okay, it might not sound like much if you don’t read a lot of this genre, but at least what I have been reading lately is a sea of whiteness. Alex Cross is the exception folks, not the rule. Even better, I loved that this detail was just that during this novel. It was a detail, a part of who Baine is certainly a part of what shapes her, but not something that overly determined the plot.
Look, as much as I love imagining myself as Clarice Starling, I don’t just read to see myself. I read to find how and where I can identify across my difference with the protagonists. I want to read, empathize, and learn as much from Ardelia Mapp as I do from Clarice, which is why Evelyn Baine is refreshing, and I am excited to stick with this series.
Spurred to Action
There’s really nothing like an email that says “End of Year Blog Report” in the subject line to make you think about just how neglectful you’ve been of your blog. It has certainly been entirely too long.
Perhaps my lovely new PlannerPad will help me be better about capturing ideas and posting. 
Isn’t it pretty? I have a suspicion it is going to work out well for me, but I’ll save the full review for later when I’ve had a change to use it.
Christmas was fun this year, full of sentimental presents like this one.
It is a jigsaw puzzle of one of Ceausescu’s palaces. No, I’ve never been to Romania, nor do I have a particular fondness for the Communist Party, but Le Premiere Chat is named Ceausescu.
Clearly his new environment is not up to his standards.
Each year the DH and I try to get each other something fun, the result is that I often get coffee mugs of some sort. Trust me, I am not complaining. You know how much I love my serial killer mug collection. Last year, it was a mug covered in Shakespearean insults. This year the DH dug a little deeper and ordered me this little beauty. 
Okay, so my Gilmore Girls obsession has cooled in recent years, but he did pay attention at some point, and he had to brave the wild internet to get this for me. Trust me, this is not his territory.
It was a wonderful effort, but I do think I stumbled onto Christmas gold with this $7 beauty from Walmart.
Yes. It does say Poo Dough. It comes with a mold, two tubs of brown dough, and the truly brilliant element a small container of yellow dough. Yellow dough is essential for creating your very own kernels of corn, or peanuts if you want to get extra creative. Yep. I won Christmas with this one. How do I know?
My mother in law sent me a text asking where I found the Poo Dough because all of the DH’s family wants some. It is exactly their sense of humor.
Goals and Aspirations …
About this time each year, possibly because it represents the beginning of the new academic year or maybe that it also happens to be my birthday, I find myself thinking about goals. What might surprise you about this is the fact that I HATE setting goals, seriously hate it with the fire of a thousand suns.
Mostly, this can be attributed to my closet Virgo nature (i.e. I LOVE putting things in order; yet, I’m ABYSMAL at keeping them that way). This tendency means I have long track record of making plans, but not necessarily following all the way through with them, which just makes me feel like I fail at a lot of things. In my mind goal setting = setting myself up for failure.
Funny, then, that I would end up in a position that requires a lot of goal setting for me, and the program. As I think I’ve written before, I’ve figured out a way to deal with this at a personal development level. Each year at this job, instead of setting a concrete goal I assign myself a word for that year.
The yearly word, or words, operates almost like a meditative intention. I set the word and let it influence all I do. For example, my second year here my word was “Indepence.” Those of you who know me might find it amusing that I would feel the need to consciously cultivate independence (it’s pretty much mapped into my DNA); however, the first year of this position threw me for a loop for a variety of reasons, so the second year I needed to re-establish for myself and the new people around me this part of myself.
Last year I chose two words: visibility and vulnerability. Making my program and myself more visible on campus would require me to get out of my comfort zone and make myself vulerable. Given the number of partnerships I’m currently working on and/or developing, and my presence on division wide committees, I’d call the year of visibility and vulnerability a success.
In fact, it was enough of a success that I don’t want to give it up. Hot mess might not be the best way to describe my life right now, but steady simmer is fairly accurate. Change isn’t happening at this moment, but the groundwork is being laid and it could end up significant. (No, that is not just a vague metaphor for the academic job market.) Visibility and vulnerability will be essential parts of anything that happens for me this year, but they won’t be the only essential element.
At the risk of diffusing my intention with too many words, I’ve decided to add one more for this year.
From the Merriam-Webster full definition: confidence of mind or manner: easy freedom from self-doubt or uncertainty. The definition continues on to include – excessive self-confidence, but I think the visibility and vulnerability parts of my intentions will help me stop short of the negative connotations of the word.
Academic New Year
It is that time of year again. August. When EVERYONE from instructors, to staff, to students rushes to make sure they are all ready for the big day. Fortunately, this year I had the foresight to plan some time off between the end of the summer tutoring program and the beginning of the regular school year. Not too much time Friday – Tuesday, I like getting five days off, but only using three vacation days. (What? You all knew I was sneaky like that!)
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Sending Advice Upstream
All the “Advice for Job Seekers/Interviewees” columns that pop up during this ‘waiting for the new joblist’ time of year (actually all year) made me start thinking seriously about my parting shot the other day “write better ads, ask better questions.” A quick Google search, not exactly exhaustive research, revealed that there are many articles in the business world about how to write a good job ad and/or attract good candidates, but in academia the advice is all pointed at the job seeker. As you might have noticed from the last post, I’m a little tired of it all. After some serious consideration, here is what I have to offer, some advice from the other side of the table for everyone currently getting ready to post ads.
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Reversing the Advice …
Today’s advice at Vitae – Don’t Dodge the Diversity Question – stuck a nerve with me. There’s nothing wrong with Nicole Matos’s advice, in fact I think you could call the heart of it common sense; as long as the question does not cross any legal boundaries, answer it.
For me, the problem isn’t necessarily people dodging the “diversity question,” the problem is the question. In the opening paragraph of her column Matos paraphrases the diversity question as “one that goes something like — Describe your experiences with diversity in and/or outside the classroom.” As someone who has been doing what I call “baby searches” for the past four years, I have one very big question of my own: “What the hell does this question even mean?”
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Changes
You might notice that I’ve made some changes around here, added a few pages, and things. I really hated having my CV just copied and pasted to a single page. It was just too much text for one page, so I broke up the sections into individual pages. I even included sub-pages with my teaching and administrative philosophies, not that anyone would really want to read them. In general, I like this new organization, and I think it will make it easy for me to keep everything updated. In the future I imagine a reversal of process where I cut and paste from my website to update and create a new CV.
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Full Speed Ahead
After an entire day of travel (thanks to a 3 hour layover in Atlanta), last night I finally made it home after a working vacation. A week ago the DH and I flew up to spend some time with his family (Sat – Wed) for me. He flew home early Thursday morning. I stayed in the Cities for a conference. (Vacation pictures will be posted later. They are all still stuck on my phone.)
I wasn’t sure what to expect from this conference. Typically, when I go to a conference I have a built in cadre of friends to keep me company. At this conference, however, I was presenting with colleagues at a conference for their field, not mine. (At least, that is what I thought.) None of my friends were going to be there, and I expected to wander the conference halls embodying my childhood nickname, “Orphan.” Nothing is ever what we really expect. The conference was amazing, and I came home with more ideas than I can process, inspired about my own scholarship, and even new friends.
The best part of this conference was the fact that our panel presented during the first session. I’ve done that at two conferences now, and I LOVE that. There is very little time for nerves, and then you can spend the rest of the time seeing panels without rehearsing a presentation in the back of your mind.
The most surprising thing for me was just how many writing center people I met at this conference. I swear this conference was better in terms of meeting new writing center directors and exchanging ideas than an actual writing center conference. It seemed like every session there was something for me to see, and it was particularly gratifying for me to see how many other people are interested in graduate writing support, and hospitality.
At a conference there are always people you end up seeing over and over in panels, in the halls, etc. This conference I made my new friend in bathroom lines and hallways. We both stayed in the dorms, and it felt like we couldn’t leave our rooms without running into each other; and, yes, she is a writing center director/coordinator like me, for now. It was fun, amusing, and now I have two friends in St. Louis.
As fun as everything was, I am glad that I took the early flight home, since I think many people had a hard time getting flights home because of the weather. I had been away too long, and it was good to sleep in my own bed with the dogs.
D5 Creation
