Day 268, December 9, 2020
The Little Things
Tonight's soundtrack: Prince, Live in Switzerland, 2013
Today was one of those days where you somehow catch the corner of your thumbnail on something and bend it a little... twice. There was no good reason for it, my nails are appropriately trimmed, and the second time I was doing nothing more innocuous than hanging my cardigan on a hanger. But now there's a little crease in the corner of my thumb nail and it is starting to look a little discolored. Sometimes things happen for no good reason.
Then, there are other things that happen for no real reason, but they give rise to an opportunity to see something you don't ordinarily get to see. This afternoon I traveled to the University to pick up my new mouse that was delivered to one office, and my keyboard that was held at another, so as part of my errand I had the opportunity to explore the inner bowels of the physical plant building. Seeing a college or university's physical plant is like getting to see back stage at a concert venue, like getting to see the inner workings of a computer, the circuitboard of an amplifier, the vascular system of frog dissections. And at the University, it was that on a tremendous scale, including a warehouse sized room where racks of packages waited for their owners to come and claim them. After wandering the halls of the building for a while and getting directions from two different people, I was amazed to find the person I had been emailing with, and he immediately knew what I was looking for and where it was.
The physical plant building was a full of a surprising degree of activity. I think it was almost the end of the day, so that was probably part of it, but at least on the first floor, the building nearly felt like a fully staffed place of business. After all the empty halls and dark rooms of the academic buildings, it was startling and nice to see that there is a part of the university that was a buzz with motion, hallway conversations, and people.
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| The inner workings of a Goodsell amplifier. |
I spoke to a colleague today who talked about how, after all these months, it is only just recently that the isolation of the pandemic has started to affect her in more profound ways. I can empathize with that. We have spent so long supporting our students, supporting our faculty, and supporting one another through the emergency of the emerging, then persistently virulent pandemic, and then there was the whole fiasco of the election and associated anxiety, after all that and the muted holiday season, how will we continue to sustain ourselves? (I wonder if we can learn something from athletes, marathon runners, what teams do in the forth quarter of a football game...)
Today's New York Times had some funny revelations from some of its readers for how they are managing through the pandemic including one man who has discovered the comfort of his wife's yoga pants, and a student who revealed that when her camera is off she is actually lying in bed and just listening. Maybe it will be the adoption of odd eccentricities that will sustain us. I'm not sure which of mine might qualify yet, but perhaps that means I have an opportunity to adopt some new traditions.
This morning I was thinking about how traditions shape our sense of meaning, whether that is organized religion, or the annual gathering of family, or the little patterns that shape our day, like how I have a smoothie with my breakfast Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, or how I take a few moments to write while eating breakfast with a fountain pen one of my daughters bought me as a gift from Japan, or how when I eat lunch I don't look at technology and instead read a magazine. Oh, and I've been able to reintegrate taking Franklin for a quick walk before eating lunch. Those things shape my day, give it a sense of form, a beginning, middle, and with my latest adoption, end.
So the latest thing I've adopted, a tip I read somewhere, is to change out of work clothes. Particularly with the new job, I've tried to have a slightly more formal dress-casual look above the waist. I haven't donned a tie yet, but a button-down shirt and sweater seems like appropriate Zoom winter wear. I think, up until the new job started, I hadn't quite transitioned out of my summer costume, which meant I threw on a Zoom shirt when needed, and mostly spent time in a t-shirt or sweatshirt. But now, when I deem it to be the end of my workday (always a somewhat malleable thing for administrators), I mark that end by going upstairs, saying hello to the cats, and changing out of my button down and sweater and changing into something more casual.
It is a small simple thing, but I feel that it makes a difference. Though, there is a kind of fun aspect to cooking dinner dressed in work clothes, like it is a date night or something like that, but I'm also dedicated to reducing how much laundry I need to do, so the change of clothes seems like the way to go, particularly since I also end my days by sitting back down at the computer and working on this blog, a change of clothes let me inhabit a different part of my brain.
So, on a day like today, one with two jammed thumbs, I look to find meaning in things, like the photographer who turned to the fungi in his backyard while locked down. I talk with Franklin as we walk down to the Saw Mill River and tease him about how excited he gets at the prospect of a half of a dog treat at the start and end of our walk. I talk to the chickens when I greet them in the morning and sympathize with how chilly it is and how the ground is now frozen solid. And on certain days, I make a smoothie from a recipe that my one of my daughters adopted from my mother as a preventative measure to maintain intestinal health. And just like that, we have returned to the image of healthy bowels.
Maybe that's key, as long as our inner workings are ticking along with a vitality, there is hope and sustenance. So how do we keep our inner workings healthy enough to sustain our work with students, institutions, and each other? I suppose that is the big question we will all face this winter. And, if we can figure it out, at least in small degrees, they will probably be delightful eccentricities that we will carry with us on the other side, because whatever that eccentric thing is, it is probably important enough to retain in our lives even beyond the pandemic. For my part, I hope the reader in the NYT continues to wear his wife's yoga pants.
As Woody said, "Take it easy, but take it."
Leo
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| You can hear the river in the distance. |
From Our Friends:
From Teaching Tolerance:
The 65th Anniversary of the Montgomery Bus Boycott
December 5 marked the 65th anniversary of the start of the Montgomery Bus Boycott. It’s critical not to oversimplify or whitewash this watershed moment. These resources help students contextualize the boycott—and the civil rights movement at large—beyond Rosa Parks’ role, with a focus on women who were also instrumental in sparking change.
Japanese American Incarceration Is U.S. History
The full story of Japanese American incarceration during World War II echoes in present-day injustices, but it continues to be left out of history curricula. TT’s Cory Collins details a new project from the National Veterans Network and the Smithsonian’s Asian Pacific American Center that can help. Learn more about these stories and why they must be told.From the AAG:
| Advocate for Geography in Austerity |
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From Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares:
Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares is a shareholder-based, all volunteer 501(c)3 non-profit organization dedicated to bringing extraordinary jazz concerts to western Massachusetts. Until there is a safe, accessible vaccine or the New England weather allows us to gather outside, we will continue to livestream concerts with our partners at Amherst Media. To get more information about Jazz Shares and to donate to our $5,000 campaign, please visit: www.jazzshares.org
From Inside Higher Ed:
Teaching face-to-face classes wasn't the most difficult part of this past semester, writes Christine I. McClure, but rather balancing that with everything else. »
Deborah Parker describes why she decided to teach in person this semester and what she's learned from it. »
From the Vermont Studio Center:
Jenn Karson is an artist who works with concepts of mapping—the organization of space—and scoring—the organization of time. Her artworks take the form of intermedia, sculpture, soundworks and installation and this work is exhibited in the United States, Canada and Europe. Additionally she is a curator of exhibitions, programs and curricula that cross the disciplines of the arts, technology, fashion and architecture; she is a lecturer at the University of Vermont’s Department of Art and Art History and the director of the College of Engineering and Mathematical Sciences digital fabrication lab (the UVM CEMS FabLab). She received her MFA in Design + Technology from the San Francisco Art Institute.
From the Feinberg Series at UMass Amherst:
From MASS MoCA:
In Session
Thursday, December 10, 6pm EST
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From NPR's Code Switch, a book recommendation:
From ESRI:
Location is everything during times of crises, but it's also key to understanding biology, ecology, economics, and a number of other industries. So how does the application of GIS to scientific research advance our understanding of the world, facilitate new ideas, and plan for a more sustainable future?
Read about the books; the series; and the stories of science, discovery, and analysis in the new blog series from series coeditor and Esri technology writer Christian Harder.
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| The Saw Mill River |
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