Author: bripike

Inaugural Poem 2013

Four years ago I watched live streaming coverage of the Inauguration from my office at school. I was interested in President Obama’s speech, but I was as equally interested in hearing the inaugural poem by Elizabeth Alexander. Today, I sit in my living room listening to NPR’s coverage and watching live streaming (on mute). Once again, I anticipate the President’s speech but I also anticipate the inaugural poem, this year written by poet Richard Blanco. 

Richard Blanco. Photo courtesy of ABC News.

Richard Blanco will be the first Hispanic inaugural poet and the first openly gay one. He is also the fourth inaugural poet; the first being Robert Frost at JFK’s inauguration in 1961. Writing an inaugural poem seems an almost impossible task. Frost himself penned the poem linked above for the occasion, but could not read it and ended up reciting The Gift Outright.  Elizabeth Alexander was criticized heavily for her interpretation of the task, but how many poets could possibly please everyone when it comes to this assignment? Past Presidents seem to agree, as this article from The Christian Science Monitor observes:

But when second-generation Cuban Richard Blanco steps to the podium during President Obama’s Jan. 21 second-term inaugural ceremonies, he’ll be only the fourth poet to participate in such proceedings. Robert Frost, who read at John Kennedy’s 1961 swearing-in, was the first, as near as we can tell. Bill Clinton had two: Maya Angelou, in 1993, and Miller Williams, in 1997. In 2009 Elizabeth Alexander read her poem “Praise Song for the Day” at Mr. Obama’s first inaugural. Now Mr. Blanco will follow her. That’s it.

JFK and Robert Frost. Photo courtesy of The New Yorker.

The article goes on to speculate that the reason for this may be that the President doesn’t want to be overshadowed by the poet. The article refers to a story about JFK and Robert Frost, but I think it also has to do with the previously mentioned difficulty of the task. I mean, you sit down and write a poem about America in a month that will be read to millions of people. Not to mention it will live on in annals of history and you see if that doesn’t give you reason to pause.

Blanco is said to have been inspired by Walt Whitman and commented in an NPR interview:

This whole idea of place and identity and what’s home and what’s not home, and which is in some ways such an American question that we’ve been asking since, you know, since [Walt] Whitman, trying to put that finger on America. 

I think Whitman would agree with Blanco and he would also agree that we are a long way from “putting our finger on America” but maybe that is just what makes America great?  

I Hear America Singing
  
by Walt Whitman
I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear, Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong, The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work, The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck, The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands, The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or at noon intermission or at sundown, The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing, Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else, The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly, Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

One Today
by Richard Blanco

“One Today”
One sun rose on us today, kindled over our shores,
peeking over the Smokies, greeting the faces
of the Great Lakes, spreading a simple truth
across the Great Plains, then charging across the Rockies.
One light, waking up rooftops, under each one, a story
told by our silent gestures moving behind windows.

My face, your face, millions of faces in morning’s mirrors,
each one yawning to life, crescendoing into our day:
pencil-yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights,
fruit stands: apples, limes, and oranges arrayed like rainbows
begging our praise. Silver trucks heavy with oil or paper — bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us,
on our way to clean tables, read ledgers, or save lives — to teach geometry, or ring up groceries as my mother did
for twenty years, so I could write this poem.

All of us as vital as the one light we move through,
the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day:
equations to solve, history to question, or atoms imagined,
the “I have a dream” we keep dreaming,
or the impossible vocabulary of sorrow that won’t explain
the empty desks of twenty children marked absent
today, and forever. Many prayers, but one light
breathing color into stained glass windows,
life into the faces of bronze statues, warmth
onto the steps of our museums and park benches
as mothers watch children slide into the day.

One ground. Our ground, rooting us to every stalk
of corn, every head of wheat sown by sweat
and hands, hands gleaning coal or planting windmills
in deserts and hilltops that keep us warm, hands
digging trenches, routing pipes and cables, hands
as worn as my father’s cutting sugarcane
so my brother and I could have books and shoes.

The dust of farms and deserts, cities and plains
mingled by one wind — our breath. Breathe. Hear it
through the day’s gorgeous din of honking cabs,
buses launching down avenues, the symphony
of footsteps, guitars, and screeching subways,
the unexpected song bird on your clothes line.

Hear: squeaky playground swings, trains whistling,
or whispers across cafe tables, Hear: the doors we open
for each other all day, saying: hello, shalom,
buon giorno, howdy, namaste, or buenos días
in the language my mother taught me — in every language
spoken into one wind carrying our lives
without prejudice, as these words break from my lips.

One sky: since the Appalachians and Sierras claimed
their majesty, and the Mississippi and Colorado worked
their way to the sea. Thank the work of our hands:
weaving steel into bridges, finishing one more report
for the boss on time, stitching another wound
or uniform, the first brush stroke on a portrait,
or the last floor on the Freedom Tower
jutting into a sky that yields to our resilience.

One sky, toward which we sometimes lift our eyes
tired from work: some days guessing at the weather
of our lives, some days giving thanks for a love
that loves you back, sometimes praising a mother
who knew how to give, or forgiving a father
who couldn’t give what you wanted.

We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight
of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always — home,
always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon
like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop
and every window, of one country — all of us —
facing the stars
hope — a new constellation
waiting for us to map it,
waiting for us to name it — together

 

The Waiting Game

When I turned 30 in March of 2011, I felt good. I didn’t feel “old” or “past my prime.” In fact, I thought to associate those two phrases with 30 was ridiculous. While I had enjoyed my 20’s, they were marked by the typical trappings of the young adult. In my 20’s I was poor, I didn’t have a steady job, I was a student, I lived in a tiny apartment, I lived with my parents, I drank too much, I didn’t exercise regularly, I stayed up too late and the list goes on and on. I enjoyed myself, but that word “myself” was a key factor in my 20’s. I was very focused on me and that made me pretty self centered. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think this is necessarily a bad way to be when you are 20. You need to be self centered so you can figure out what the hell you’re doing with yourself, which is exactly what I did.

By the time my 30th birthday rolled around, I had a career, I had a house, I was on my way to having a husband and overall, I felt like I was in a good spot. This was also around the time that I started thinking more seriously about a family. I felt like I had done what responsible people do. I had gotten all my ducks in a row before thinking about bringing another life into my world. My husband and I talked about it, we set a timeline and I still felt good.

Then yesterday I was listening to NPR on my way home from class and here comes Fresh Air where Terry Gross interviewing Judith Shulevitz, author of a recent article in The New Republic entitled “How Older Parenthood Will Upend Society.”  Shulevitz is the science editor at The New Republic and had her first child at the age of 37. I listened to the interview. I read the article. I had a mild panic attack.

Now, before I go much further, I would like to make a few disclaimers. One, I think Shulevitz raises some interesting points, but I don’t agree with all of them. Two, I’m not a scientist, so this post is just me and my own neurosis. And three, I am not disparaging young parents, middle aged parents or older parents. I have respect for all parents, regardless of age.

Onward.

I think the first reason this topic hit me so hard, was when I was listening to Shulevitz describe these “older parents,” I realized she was describing me. For instance, when she writes in her article, “A college-educated woman had a better than one-in-three chance of having her first child at 30 or older,” I thought, yep, that’s me. And later when she observes:

A REMARKABLE FEATURE of the new older parenting is how happy women seem to be about it. It’s considered a feminist triumph, in part because it’s the product of feminist breakthroughs: birth control, which gives women the power to pace their own fertility, and access to good jobs, which gives them reason to delay it. Women simply assume that having a serious career means having children later and that failing to follow that schedule condemns them to a lifetime of reduced opportunity—and they’re not wrong about that. So each time an age limit is breached or a new ART procedure is announced, it’s met with celebration. Once again, technology has given us the chance to lead our lives in the proper sequence: education, then work, then financial stability, then children.

This also pretty much describes me. I don’t like the fact that we still live in a society that claims to be “equal” in terms of how they treat women and men in the workforce, when it is clear in the way most professions are structured, that they are not friendly to women who want to work and have children. Whether women “assume this” or it is just their reality, still has the end result that Shulevitz discusses in her article. Not only are professions not suited to having young children, institutions that women attend on the journey toward those professions are not child friendly. I think about my own graduate program that I attended at a large university in Texas. The on site childcare was hardly reliable or high quality and bringing a child to class was simply not an option. To paraphrase Shulevitz, you’re not going to show up to a class in law school with a baby carrier.

I’m not going to lie. This is where I start to get angry. I spent all this time working on myself, going to school, finding a profession I enjoyed and was good at, landed myself a job and now you’re telling me that I would have been better off having children and doing all those things? I am oversimplifying and my anger is not directed at Shulevitz, but rather a society that in my mind, has made it damn near impossible to do these things at the same time. In other words, it is terrifying and frustrating to me that all this time I thought I was being responsible and that in fact, it may just turn around and bite me.

This is where I take a breath.

A few important things I need  keep in mind. I am still a few years away from Advanced Maternal Age (AMA). Charming term, isn’t it? And this is just one article and one point of view, but it definitely makes you think. Also, it is important to mention that this isn’t all about women. Men of world? Read the article. It will give you a lot to think about too.

All of this being said, I’m still confident in the choices I’ve made. I would not have made a good mother in my 20s. I was afraid to hold an infant, let alone birth one and raise one and so forth. I was not stable and maybe most importantly, I was not ready. And I know you can never truly be ready, but when the time finally comes, I want it be celebratory and exciting and joyous.

And probably what is most important? Is that I still believe it will be.

Why Creative Writing Students Are Cool: A List

1. One of my online creative writing students informed the class that she had visited a shaman at the end of the last term and that he had advised her to write more for her spiritual health.

2. At the end of my Tuesday morning class, a young man came up to my desk, shook my hand, and told me he was looking forward to the class.

3. When asked about favorite writers, one student replied, “I like Bukowski because he was a drunk and never edited his poems.”

4. My students use words like “macabre” and “plethora” and they use them correctly!

5. When taking attendance, one of my students informed me she wanted to be called “twin” because she has an identical twin sister.

6. Only in a creative writing class will you get questions about sex, drugs, cussing and mental illness when it comes to content. Only in creative writing will I say, “Go for it.”

Some of my creative writing students at the IMA’s 100 Acre Park.

7. Not one of my creative writing students has asked me “do I need the book?” (see previous post)

8. I have several students who admitted that they “liked to write poetry” the first day. Hallelujah!

9. Several of my students claimed that they were enrolled in creative writing because “they were good at it.” Whether this is true or not, isn’t particularly relevant. What is relevant is that they are coming to the class with a type of confidence that you don’t find in intro level classes.

10. Some of them were smiling before class began and they were still smiling after class was over.

Show Yourself Some Love

Today was the first day of the fall semester, and while I did not have class today, I did go into the office to organize and prepare for the two classes that I have tomorrow and Thursday. It was a busy day on campus and over the course of the week there will all sorts of emotions circulating through the halls. There are many tasks I want to accomplish this semester, but I found myself re-committing to a promise that I made to myself about four years ago (around the time I was hired on full time at my community college). The promise was to take better care of myself during the semester and it is something I actively think about every term.

This vow to care for myself came from years of being a graduate student/teaching fellow and then an adjunct instructor. I wasn’t kind to myself in those years. I didn’t eat well, I didn’t sleep well, I didn’t exercise regularly, I didn’t take quiet time for myself and I didn’t say “no” very often. In fact, when it came to my time as an adjunct, I never said no. This was an active strategy on my part. I wanted to be seen as a team player and dependable and flexible. I felt all of these things would serve me well if I were ever in the position to apply for a full time position. As it turned out, that full time position popped up after I had been at my community college for about a year and a half. I applied. I was offered the job. I accepted.

At the lovely IMA.

The first year I was full time, I fell back into my old habits. The spring semester I took on seven, yes, seven, classes (don’t ask) and I suffered for it. I was cranky. I was tired. I felt gross physically and sluggish mentally. I ate poorly and exercise? Forget it. I decided that I needed to reevaluate how I was living my life because what I was doing wasn’t working.

The first thing I started to do was say “no.” Admittedly, this was easier given my past behaviors. I wasn’t criticized for cutting back, in fact, I was encouraged to, so I did. I focused only on my courses and the student creative writing group I advised for.  I also started getting back to exercise and eating better. I started cooking more and discovered I really enjoyed it. In fact, doing things I enjoyed made me happy, so I added to the list. I went on walks, read books I wanted to read during the semester, watched movies, got manicures, and went hiking in the woods. I was happier and more balanced. This taking care of myself was working.

I found myself in a familiar position this time last year, when I realized that once again, I was over committed to things I wasn’t necessarily that invested in, so I cut back. eliminated some stresses at work and re-committed to self care. I started going to yoga and discovered Zumba and turbo kick. I read more books, took time to go to the pool in the summer and spent some weekends away with my husband.

I need balance. I am much happier if I have balance and I’m fiercely protective of my own time because it is mine. It makes me sound self centered, but I don’t necessarily have to be alone to enjoy “me time.” However, I do need to give myself breaks and special treatment every now and then. This isn’t being selfish. It is being a human being. Be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. Love yourself. You deserve it.

48 Hours in the Life of a Community College Professor

Thursday January 10, 2013

Professor is currently on day #4 of faculty in-service week. Over the past few days, the professor has answered emails, organized syllabi and begun loading course content on Blackboard. Below is a rough timeline of her day:

11:00 AM- Arrive at office.

11:05 AM: Check email/voicemail.

11:10 AM: Make “To-Do” list for the day.

11:15 AM: Begin prepping online American Lit course (this is the third day of prep for this course).

12:00 PM: Finish prepping online American Lit course.

12:05 PM: Make list of questions for course coordinator about online American Lit course.

12:06 PM: Email course coordinator with list of questions.

12:10-12:15 PM: Chat with office mates.

12:15 AM-2:00 PM: Continue to prep other courses for spring semester.

2:30 PM- Receives email from American Lit course coordinator that the professor’s section has been CANCELED  due to low enrollment.

2:31 PM: Professor’s head hits desk.

2:33 PM: Professor goes in search of interim chair so she can pick up another course.

2:35 PM: Finds interim chair. Only courses left are introductory composition courses at inconvienent times.

2:36 PM: Professor’s stomach starts to churn.

2:37 PM: Professor resigns herself to taking a section of composition that meets Monday/Wednesday night.

2:38 PM: Professor shuffles back to her office.

2:40 PM: Professor realizes none of her composition files are on campus because she has not taught this particular course since 2010.

2:41 PM-3:00 PM:Professor commiserates with colleagues about the annoyance of it all.

3:05 PM: Professor drives home. She is muttering to herself the entire way.

Friday January 11, 2013

9:30 AM: Professor arrives for day #5 of in-service week. She is armed with all her composition files collected from home.

9:35 AM: Professor vows to remain optimistic. She’s taught this course many times. It will be OK.

9:37-9:40 AM: Professor reviews composition textbook. Optimism takes a hit. Textbooks are boring.

9:45-10:00 AM: Professor begins to review/update composition syllabus. She has not taught this course since summer of 2010. Optimism takes another hit.

10:00-10:15 AM: Professor looks over assignments. 20 journals? 5 essays? 5 revisions? Optimism takes another hit.

10:15-10:30 AM: Professor realizes she cannot take her favorite turbo kick class now because she will be teaching class. Optimism is gone.

10:30-10:45 AM: Professor commiserates with collegaues. Again.

11:00-12:30 PM: Liberal Arts & Sciences Department Meeting.

12:30 PM: Meets with two colleagues to discuss creative writing student group

12:35 PM: Professor realizes that one of these colleagues had to drop a creative writing course due to scheduling difficulties. Said colleague offers this class to professor.

12:36 PM: Professor RUNS up to interim program chair and asks for the creative writing class to replace composition course.

12:37 PM: Interim chair agrees and makes the change.

12:38 PM: Professor sings praises of colleague who gave up her class. She offers her chocolate, wine, books, her first born child, whatever this woman desires. Colleague is just glad to help. Professor is ELATED.

12:38-1:40 PM: Professor chats with colleagues about how optimistic she is for the beginning of the semester.

2:00 PM: Professor arrives home and collapses onto her couch. Classes begin January 14th. 

Female Celebrities I Admire

I feel like as a culture we spend a lot of time focusing on the negative when it comes to celebrities. This could be an entire blog on its own, but over Christmas my mom and I were sitting in her kitchen talking about what a train wreck Lindsay Lohan has made out of her life/career and I thought, “what about all the women in movies, music, television, and cyber space that are not train wrecks?” I’m not saying the women below will win a Noble Peace Prize or that they’re not flawed (who isn’t?) but I enjoy them for their art, their commentary, their fashion sense and their overall celebrity coolness.

I read Tina Fey’s Bossypants about a year ago and you should read it too. I laughed and laughed. Mean Girls is the only Lindsay Lohan I have seen or will ever see and it still makes me laugh. Tina Fey is funny, smart and rocks her glasses. She’s going to host the Golden Globes this year  with Amy Poehler and I will watch only because of her. I loved her acceptance speech when she won the Mark Twain Prize and I appreciated her humor at the recent Kennedy Center Awards ceremony. Funny, genuinely funny, is awesome.

OK, not be shallow, but first, do you see this woman? Do you see her? OK, now that that’s out of the way…I liked The Devil Wears Prada and as soon as I stop being a wimp, I will go see Les Mis. I like that Anne Hathaway refused to discuss her “wardrobe malfunction” or her “drastic weight loss” on the Today Show. I like how she made fun of herself on the Daily Show and was clearly embarrassed when John Stewart complimented her talent. I like that she loves her new hair cut. I like that she is well spoken and smart and a has a killer wardrobe. I like that she seems like a real human being.

I have had a love affair going with Maggie Smith ever since I saw her in Evil Under the Sun, which was made in 1982 (a year after I was born). I’ve rediscovered my love of her in My House in Umbria and Gosford Park. I was thrilled when she agreed to be Professor McGonagall in Harry Potter and she has the best lines in Downton Abbey. To paraphrase a comment from Julian Fellows, creator of Gosford Park and Downton Abbey, Maggie Smith is the only actress that can make you love and hate a character all at the same time. Brilliant.

A good friend of mine burned me the first Norah Jones album while we were in college. I listened to it about 150 times in a row. Come Away With Me is one of my favorite albums and the title song is just beautiful. I love her voice and how she’s always working on a new an interesting project.

 My sister turned me onto Florence & The Machine and the first album, Lungs, is one of my favorites. Her voice is powerful and glorious and her songs are ethereal and lyrical. Favorite tracks? #1, 7, 9 &12.

This may be one that many people disagree with me about, but this is my list, so too bad. I like Jillian Michaels because she’s tough and I like tough. I have two of her work out dvds and they are hard but awesome. I have not watched The Biggest Loser since she left, but now she’s back, so I may tune in. I like that she’s in your face but also fair. I like that she adopted two children and is a working mom. She doesn’t take any crap. Nice.

Emma Watson is classy. Emma Watson is smart. Emma Watson is pretty. Emma Watson is stylish. Emma Watson is English. Emma Watson was Hermione Granger. What’s not to like? What I like most about Emma Watson is her promise. She’s talented and young, so I hope to see her in so many more roles in the future.

Do I Really Have to Buy the Book?

Today marked my return to school after a two week break. Today also marked the first day I have felt halfway normal since New Years Eve. I managed to get up, shower, go to work, take the dog to the vet and (gasp) go workout. Watch out guys, I’m back.

But I digress.

I returned to my office to find my plant badly in need of water and also a boat load of emails. I don’t check email over break. I put up my out of office message on the day grades are due and I’m out. The emails were fairly mundane. There were several notifying me of various technical updates that had occurred over break, some messages about the Spring 2013 academic calendar that has apparently changed three times in 24 hours, and a lot of spam. Among these unassuming messages, were three emails from students. All of these emails came from students in the same class, English Composition online, and they all asked essentially the same question: Do I have to buy the book for this course?

Now, I understand textbooks are exorbitantly expensive. I don’t like it and I agree with students when they complain about how half of their financial aid goes towards said textbooks. That being said, this is an introductory writing course and its online. There are no face to face lectures, question/answer sessions or conferences. Online students certainly are welcome to come in and chat with me, but let’s face it, they don’t. Because there is no face to face contact, the textbook is even more important (in my opinion) in an online class than it would be in a traditional course.

The short answer? Yes, you need to buy the book.

My favorite one of these emails was from a young man who has apparently already completed English Composition one time but he received a B in the course, and he “really needs an A to get into his physical therapy program,” so he already went through the course without the textbook, but feels the need to “double check with me” about doing so again. I was tempted to reply with, “Well, Student X, perhaps if you buy the book this time it will give you that extra edge to get you that much needed A.” However, I showed restraint and simply gave him the only answer I can really give to an adult college student: “It is your choice.”

2013: What I Am Grateful For

The new year is here and if you know anything about me and New Years, you know two things: 1). I’m not big on “resolutions” and 2). I probably rang in 2013 on my couch with my dog, cat, husband and some sort of take out (this year it was pizza and wings).

2012 was a good year for me, and I thought I would begin 2013 with a list of what I am grateful for because while the new year is mostly about looking to the future and what you will find there, I think it is also important to meditate on the present and be thankful for what you already have.

His face in this picture is priceless

RJ and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary in 2012, but we’ve been together for almost a decade It’s been a long haul full of ups and downs but I’m very grateful for our relationship and proud of the person he’s become/is becoming. Some of the awesome things R has done this year? Continued in law school, landed a cool job as a clerk at a local law firm, fixed countless things around our house, run several 5k races with me, and he embarked on a crazy long hike out in the woods. Loves.

Thanksgiving 2012

November 2011

November 2011

I am lucky in that I have a great family. They are funny,
supportive, wise and generous. A lot of my best memories from 2012 involve these people and I’m looking forward to see what 2013 brings for all of us.

Bachelorette at Anderson Orchard 2011
A night out at the IMA
My besties
Football Sunday girls

Friends are vital and I have some terrific friends. We’ve had a lot of good times this year going to concerts, watching football games, eating out at new restaurants and attending events around town. They keep me sane and grounded. They have all my love and best wishes for 2013.

Kweli 
Nimbus. This is the most innocent picture we have of him

Admittedly, vacuuming up bundles of dog hair, scooping the litter box and cleaning the bird cage are not my top three favorite activities. However, I cannot imagine my life without these furry/feathered little beasts.

Humphrey & Calliope

I am grateful for trees, flowers, rocks, dirt, sun, snow and rain. In short, I am grateful for the the natural world and I am grateful that I am able to get outdoors and be apart of it.

Fall 2012

Summer 2012
Spring 2012
Summer 2012 

As a creative person, I am grateful for the art that I was able to participate in, create and observe this year. This include writing, crafting, reading and going to museums.

On the grounds of the Lily House
100 Acre Park

 Food. I love food and I’ve eaten some delicious meals in 2012. I’m sure there are more to come in 2013.

My favorites

Shrimp Po Boy

Full trout served at Courses

Finally, I am grateful for all of the cool things I got to do in 2012. I was able to officiate my best friend’s wedding, I went to Kennywood and Churchill Downs, I went to some outdoor concerts, a killer flea market and ran a race where at the end I was given a free beer. Not too shabby.

Good times

Brew Mile

Amazing

Yes!