Graduation Day

Today I graduated. Well, okay, I *attended* graduation. Baylor University's graduation. As an assistant professor. 


I dug up this picture from my actual graduation, back in May of 2010, and I found it somewhat ironic since it shows me hugging my favorite tree on UNCG's campus, the very giant trees I miss so dearly here in central Texas. But the picture does afford me the nice moment, mixed with a sense of relief and deep satisfaction, to reflect that the tentative sense of hope I felt in that picture, hope that my hard work for the last 7 years in graduate school would amount to something, did. 


I still feel awfully close to the self in that picture, in full regalia with arms wrapped goofily around my sentimental attachment to the campus I called home for 7 years. Shouldn't I feel a greater sense of distance, a greater sense of difference? I have, by all accounts, achieved the first important measure of "success" in our field after graduating. I landed a tenure track job at a research university. 


But graduation day, of all days, asks us to reflect on this notion of "success." The next several posts begin a series on my reflections from this past year. In these posts I will engage with the notion of success, discuss what was surprising and not-so-surprising during my first year on the job, and mostly ask a bunch of questions that I hope will begin many interesting conversations. 

Forgiveness

I don't go to the movies very often, but I have seen two movies in the theatre recently. I am certain the proximity of these movie-going experiences led me to notice an insight I am about to share (lucky you).

Forgiveness is not something we often talk about in normal cultural circles, and it can be hard to think about forgiveness outside of a religion connotation. But I wonder if thinking about forgiveness as something particularly human and earthy, rather than something spiritual and celestial, might not be a way of understanding what is indeed divine about forgiveness.

In the movie version of Foer's novel, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, a scene near the end of the move highlights one aspect of forgiveness. Oskar has been carrying around this incredible guilt about not picking up the phone when his dad called from the towers - what ended up being, in fact, his dad's last words. The weight of this guilt gave Oskar "heavy boots" and drove him to an obsessive search for a key that he felt sure his father had meant for him to find and would unlock a wonderful secret about his father.

In an anticlimactic moment, for Oskar and for moviegoers, we discover the key belongs to a stranger. But what happens when Oskar finds this stranger becomes a sort of "key" in itself. Oskar had told no one, not his grandmother, not his grandfather, not his mother, no one, about the betrayal of his father through his inability to pick up the phone. For some reason, Oskar decides to tell this complete stranger, and at the end of his story he begs the man to forgive him.

How odd, I thought, to ask forgiveness from someone who had nothing to do with what you felt you needed forgiving for. The stranger resisted telling Oskar "I forgive you," until Oskar's tears and adamant insistence finally led him to say "I forgive you." The relief Oskar immediately felt was telling - it pointed to some deep human need to have the words "I forgive you" verbally pronounced over us.

Second movie: The movie version of Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz. Also near the end of this flick in a rather comical mock confession-box moment on the campus of Reed College where Don, as the new "pope" for a year, prepares to hear his first set of confessions. He reverses the role of confessor and confessee and asks his predecessor to forgive him for representing, in that moment, the priests who had forever damaged his friend when he was younger. Again we have resistance to saying "I forgive you," but this time because the person saying "I forgive you" was having to let go of a great deal of hurt and anger. But like Oskar, the relief felt by saying the words "I forgive you" was quite evident.

I came away from these two movies thinking about the power of both saying and hearing the words "I forgive you," and then wondering why this powerful phrase does not figure into our cultural lexicon in a more substantial way. I am not done pondering this yet, but I feel strongly that thinking about forgiveness as a mark of our humanity, as a central human need, is an important concept that we've lost somewhere along the way.  

Dear Blog

Dear Blog,
I apologize for my absence and disloyalty. I know it's not your fault, but I just found myself more attracted to the new and glittery twitter, pininterest, instagram, and iPhone app form of Facebook. I'm not saying you need to be newer and more glittery, the fault is all mine. Besides, these things are no longer new nor are they glittery (the latter may be because I need to clean the surface of my phone, but that's beside the point).

Since it is the end of the semester I could pull out the usual excuses about being so busy with grading, etc.  but as you can see I am not doing that; I am being completely honest with you about my behavior.

Now I need you to be completely honest with me. What are you good for? I yelled this at Siri one time and she pulled up a list of everything she had been programmed to do, but that's not really the kind of answer I'm looking for here. I really want to know how my blog benefits something or someone. Lets say I devote an hour a week to a blog post, plus all the brain space that goes into thinking "is this blog worthy?" every time I experience something or read something or hear something (plus the brain space to keep straight what is appropriate material for Facebook vs. twitter vs blog).

This is not a break-up speech, please don't look at me like that. I'm just trying to have an honest, genuine conversation. A reassessment, time for reflection, kind of thing. So here are a few of my thoughts about why we are good together, and I'd love to hear yours of course:

Selfish reason #1: our culture is so busy, we leave little time for reflecting. Its hard to grow and learn without time for reflecting. The time I spend blogging is a form of reflection that will help me learn and grow.

Selfish reason #2: blogging can improve my writing because it's less restrictive than academic writing, encourages creativity, and at the same time its public nature holds me accountable to a higher quality of writing than would a private journal.

Selfish reason #3: supposedly blogging can be good for your career if you create enough traffic and create a niche for yourself. I'm still not sure that I want to turn this blog into a career pep rally for myself, but I gotta admit that reason lurks somewhere in the back of my mind.

Selfless reason #1: I'm going through a transition period that a lot of people go through (moving, starting a new job) and perhaps people can learn from my mistakes and not have to make those mistakes themselves.

Selfless reason #2: people enjoy being part of a community, and blogs can help people feel a sense of community. People who read my blog and are able to connect with something fundamental in it may feel a sense of belonging they need.

Selfless reason #3: I cannot think of another selfless reason, which points to my initial hunch - that this blog is more for me than for anyone else. I wonder if that matters or not?

Exercises for writing

I have recently been introduced to some awesome exercises for writing by some of my amazing colleagues. I completed the following exercises for a book project, but I think they would also work equally well for articles or dissertations.

Exercise #1: X,Y,Z

Can you distill your project into the following formula:

My book is about x. I argue y about x. The significance of discovering y about x is z.

I found it helpful to begin by creating a list of keywords, then use those words to fill in the x,y,z. To really make this activity useful do at least 5 different iterations of these three sentences, jumbling up the order of what you put in the x,y,z slots and even introducing different concepts for one of the x,y,z slots.

Exercise #2: The Fairytale

That's right. Forget Academic Prose. Plot out your project in terms of a fairytale. Tell the story of your idea. Who are the main actors? Who are the villains? What does the action consist of? What are the conflicts? How are they resolved? Here is a quick blurb from the fairytale I wrote about my project:

Once upon a time there lived a fair maiden named Sympatica. Everyone said she was the most gentle and kind woman in the land. She helped the poor and downtrodden. no one knew why but somehow she just made them feel better about themselves when they were around her. Everyone wanted to be her friend. Well, almost everyone.

There was another girl in the land, Godsib, who whispered evil things about Sympatica to everyone. She came with horrible stories about how Sympatica was not really helping the poor but actually hurting them. Godsib even went so far as to say Sympatica was creating animosity between people who were and were not her friend. Godsib did her best to break up these categories of insiders and outsiders, but no one would take her seriously. Well, almost no one.

Exercise #3: The Table of Contents

I now understand that the table of contents is one of the gears that makes the book project run (along with the story that you tell and your argument: all three are different gears churning in different ways, but when moving together they form the book). The TOC is not your argument, nor does it have to follow the order of your argument. The TOC should echo the framework of the book and should provide the arc of the story you will tell. I found it much easier to construct a TOC when I thought of it in terms of tracing how I am going to tell a story rather than as some kind of index of chapters.

I think it's useful to create a TOC at various moments in your project, as a way of staying attuned to how you are telling the story of your argument.

Classifieds

Looking for church home, willing to split rent. I am generally a quiet, neat person who does not raise her hands while singing (though I wish I did). I know how to follow all the rules (though I wish I didn’t). I do have a lot of a baggage, but can just put it in storage. I prefer contemporary worship music, but not like a rock band. Maybe just a guitar. Includes deep teaching of the bible in its historical context. Please no “life application” moments that turn the biblical narrative into Aesop’s fables. Should include women in leadership roles. Preferably not as back-up singer or Sunday school superintendent. Clear mission for helping others. Africa or India would be great, but maybe better the house with a sagging roof just down the street. Accessible by foot for people without $60,000 suburbans. Or maybe if it is only accessible by a $60,000 dollar suburban it actually transports the little girl sitting on the porch of the broken house down the street. No theology statement necessary. Living out heaven here on earth completely necessary. Congregation made up of – not those who are “in” – but those who go out. Comes complete with: the poor, the mourning, the meek, the hungry, the merciful. Please call me if you know of anything like this.