I love the smell of bonfire in the evening

While those who live in colder climates enjoy the smell of burning leaves in the fall and wood burning in their fireplaces in the winter, those of us on the coasts revel in the smell and glow of the beach bonfire.

Tonight was one of those evenings when every fire pit at Dockweiler was occupied, offering a swath of beach-bound lanterns glowing against the sunset as you approached from either direction. (Alas, I did not bring my camera with me this evening, so all I can offer is a sunset picture I took there last week.)

Apparently, Los Angeles county only has one remaining beach where they still allow fire pits. And luckily it happens to be the one where I live.

Tending to my own bookshelf

This week's NY Times Book Review included a piece by Laura Miller entitled "The Well-Tended Bookshelf" in which she discussed the sorted collecting and purging pasts of those of us with bibliophilistic tendencies. She writes:

There are two general schools of thought on which books to keep, as I learned once I began swapping stories with friends and acquaintances. The first views the bookshelf as a self-portrait, a reflection of the owner’s intellect, imagination, taste and accomplishments. “I’ve read ‘The Magic Mountain,’ ” it says, and “I love Alice Munro.” For others, especially those with literary careers, a personal library can be “emotional and totemic,” in the words of the agent Ira Silverberg. Books become stand-ins for friends and clients . . . .

The other approach views a book collection less as a testimony to the past than as a repository for the future; it’s where you put the books you intend to read.

As someone who was a literature major, worked in a used bookstore in Berkeley, and loves the look of books stacked from floor to ceiling and bursting from their shelves, I muse regularly about my approach to the books I keep in my home.

In college, I was a book hound. I grabbed everything I could get my hands on and then clung to them as though they were nuts I was squirreling away for a decade's long winter. The likelihood of me reading them was beside the point. You could never have too many books. And unfortunately nobody paid the price for this perspective more perhaps than my dad and brother who were recruited to help pack and move said books every time I changed residences (which, when in your early 20s, can be frequently).

Miller also explains in her essay that, "Older people, curiously enough, seem to favor the less nostalgic approach. When you’re young and still constructing an identity, the physical emblems of your inner life appear more essential . . ." I subscribe wholeheartedly to this explanation and believe, not only that my book fanaticism was an attempt at identity construction, but that that fanaticism often prevented the very identity formation that I sought. The ability to answer the question "Who am I?" was often smothered by thousands of pages marked by great intentions and questionable futures.

Since beginning graduate school and happily entering my 30s, which appear far more conducive to maintaining a sense of self and intellectual confidence, I have successfully managed to simplify and self-construct by way of multiple bookshelf purges. I still occasionally lapse into a hasty book purchase that results in approximately 25-100 pages being read before I tuck it safely away in a shelf while the book mark I left in it permanently fixes itself to whatever page I made it to. But in general, I remain fairly discerning, using my Borders discount coupons and Amazon.com bargains sparingly, and opting for reading things at the library, in the bookstore or online.

But, in the spirit of Miller's essay, one cannot help briefly mention what was kept. So, as I glance around my own home, I find the following still adorning the shelves:

• My withered yet robust stack of Norton anthologies
• A handful of old Scribners editions of Hemingway that belonged to my dad (including two copies of The Old Man and the Sea which is never absent from any library of mine)
  
• Barack Obama's first two books
  
• Several hardback collector's editions of Dostoevsky, Tolstoy and Oscar Wilde purchased with my employee discount at Black Oak Books during my last year of college
  
• A small but growing stack of feminist-oriented texts such as Friedan's Feminine Mystique and Kingston's The Meaning of Wife
• Books I've read bits and pieces of and enjoy referring back to such as Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma
• Books I struggle with but refuse to give up on like Hitchens' God is Not Great and Kearns Goodwin's Team of Rivals
• A few books from college that have contributed to my intellectual development such as the autobiographies of Charles Darwin and John Stuart Mill
• Two copies of Irving Stone's edited collection of essays from Berkeley alums, There Was Light
• Shakespeare's collected works
• A sprinkling of books given to me as gifts at significant times in my life
  
• And, of course, the 4 or 5 shelves devoted to all of the education and social science related books that I know I'd be a fool to part with prior to obtaining my doctorate.

And among all these, is there a favorite might you ask?

That would be my copy of Bill Watterson's The Essential Calvin and Hobbes. Of all the texts on my shelves that might say something about who I am, this one alone speaks volumes about the person I've become.

Cheers to Calvin, and his fuzzy buddy, Hobbes.

In Memoriam, Pat Natalie

Dear Pat~

You were a steady, comforting face and voice in a sea of changing faculty and students. It was clear from my first day on campus that you were there for the students and we deeply appreciated every opportunity we had to meet with you about program requirements, exchange emails, or just sit and chat.

You were very much the face of our school and your sincerity, compassion, and sense of humor will be deeply missed.

Thank you for everything.
Emily
2004 Educational Studies cohort



From the Ann Arbor News (via our dean, Deborah Ball): Patricia Ann Natalie passed away at home on Wednesday, November 26, 2008 in the presence of family and friends. She was born August 8, 1948 in Monroe, Michigan, the daughter of the late James C. and Alice M. (Didario) Natalie. Pat graduated from St. Thomas High School in 1966 and has worked at the University of Michigan School of Education for 37 years. Pat is survived by her dear friend Connie Wiedmayer of Saline, brother David Natalie, and sister-in-law Karin Natalie, both of Dexter, MI. She is also survived by her Clinton family: Fay and Russell Freshcorn, and Audrey, Jeff and Erica Freshcorn. Funeral Services will be held at the St. James United Church of Christ of Saline on Monday, December 1, 2008 at 11 a.m. with Rev. Orval L.E. Williman Officiating. In lieu of flowers memorial contributions may be made to the University of Michigan School of Education, or to St. James United Church of Christ. Envelopes will be available at the Robison-Bahnmiller Funeral Home where friends may begin calling on Sunday, November 30, 2008 between the hours of 1 p.m. to 8 p.m. and at the Church from 10 a.m. until time of Service at 11 a.m. on Monday, December 1, 2008. Burial will take place at the St. Joseph Catholic Cemetery in Monroe, MI.

"The Journal of Non-significant Results in Education"

I feel as though I should craft some sort of responsible, well-articulated discussion regarding this topic, and weave a number of carefully-selected, credible references in to make me appear even more scholarly and studious than my current academic facade already permits.

However, all I really want to say is that academia never disappoints. I'd like to think someone in the educational research community finally got a sense of humor, and that maybe this is on par with the prank tools that Google announces each year on April Fools Day, but alas, I think it's legit.

Please CLICK HERE for a moment of social sciences levity.

Let them eat cake! . . . after the Dean finishes decorating it.

In graduate school, you meet an array of intriguing, talented people. People with fascinating personal histories, unparalleled commitment and passion, and mind-blowing intellect.

And then there are those other people.

The academic super heroes and heroines who have been busily working since the age of 12, and who don't plan on stopping until the day they drop dead clutching a Blackberry, a policy brief, and the hand of a graduate student, all while running their 16th marathon to raise money for cancer or for the local schools. These are the folks who accomplish five times as much as you do in a given day and sleep about 5 fewer hours at night. The ones who you hold up as role models, while quietly telling yourself, "I NEVER want to be that person," foregoing the need to consider whether or not you ever could be.

Our Dean at the University of Michigan's School of Education is one of these people. And while there is a wealth of evidence to support this claim, along with an army of acquaintances and colleagues who would shout the same from the rooftops, I offer the following email as an exemplar of what I'm referring to.

Dear School of Education community:

This week we will be thanking all the many people who have generously contributed to the SOE as we celebrate a terrifically successful Michigan Difference Campaign. We will be highlighting the ways that our work has been supported and the impact that these gifts have had for our students and programs. It has been amazing to see the outpouring of generosity and support. And it has truly made a difference to us.

To launch the several events that will mark the campaign finale, and to add a little party to the thank yous, we are going to DECORATE and EAT CAKE. On Wednesday, November 12, I will teach anyone who wants to learn how to decorate cake. We will decorate two large cakes in Prechter Lab (second floor) from 4:30 - 6:00. You can roll up your sleeves and learn to decorate a small section of the cake, or you can just watch! But you will learn some cake decorating skills. Then on Thursday, from 3:45 - 5:00, we will eat the cake, also in Prechter.

I hope you can join us! We want to make it a very festive atmosphere. We will be joined at the cake eating on Thursday by the members of the Dean's Advisory Council who will be meeting all day that day.

The beautiful poster, designed by our art team, can help remind you of these events. Please spread the word to classmates, students, and team members. All are welcome -- the more the merrier!

Sincerely,
Deborah


I must say, I don't know what disappoints me more: The fact that it hadn't occurred to me before that she is no doubt as skilled at decorating cakes as she is at teaching mathematics, or that I am 2300 miles away from Ann Arbor right now and have no hope of getting my hands on a piece of that cake.

Back to Los Angeles City Hall: In Protest of Prop 8

I think that the last time I was at Los Angeles City Hall was for a candlelight vigil the day after September 11th, 2001. I will be going again this Saturday and expect it to be considerably more upbeat, but certainly for just as serious a purpose: No on Prop 8.

Bowing out of the "Great Shake Out"

I am not one to be cynical or insensitive about natural disasters, by any means. However, I arrived at my office on the UCLA campus this morning and opened my email to find an announcement from a campus administrator titled "Drop, Cover, and Hold on!". As it turns out, tomorrow morning (Thursday, November 13) at 10am, we will be participating in the "Great Southern California Shakeout" with "millions of people throughout southern california." Yep, that's right folks, it's an earthquake drill. No doubt inspired by the 5-point something shaker we had earlier this summer.

Now, I believe in emergency-preparedness. I believe in practicing emergency scenarios, particularly in schools and major public buildings and venues that house children and large numbers of people at any given time. And I believe in taking steps to make sure that those who have never experienced an earthquake before know what to expect and feel prepared.

But, I also have a request--I sincerely ask that those of us who were born and raised on the jittery, tremor-prone streets of Southern California (and all of California for that matter) be excused from these drills once we reach the age of 18 and have thoroughly mastered the whole "drop, cover, and hold on" scenario in both simulated and live events.

I have spent more time crouching on low-grade carpet under desks and tables in the public schools of California than I, or my knees, care to remember. I crouched under our big circular craft tables at St. Stevens Preschool. I ducked under our single and double desks every year (multiple times) in kindergarten through 6th grade at Highlands Elementary. I huddled under desks in 7th and 8th grade hoping that my big, hair-sprayed bangs didn't get caught on a chair leg or something along with all of the other girls at Arroyo Seco Junior High. And I explored the underside of those desks in every gym, bungalow, science lab and lecture hall every year at Saugus High School as well. (And then I went to college in Northern California where they hadn't even finished rebuilding freeways from the last major earthquake 6 years prior.) I have experienced many an earthquake, including the Northridge '94, after which my high school was converted into a Red Cross shelter for a week and my weekend jaunts to the Northridge mall were seriously curbed. Trust me, I get it.

I have dropped and covered my little Californian heart out. And now I would like to report to the office with my birth certificate, my K-12 diplomas and my CA driver's license and ask to be excused from this class.

By all means, lets get the infinite number of adults living here who hail from birthplaces outside of our golden, fault-lined borders to practice diving for cover along with all the little kiddies. I'll even offer encouraging words and constructive criticism on their speed, form, and desk grip. But as far as this California kid is concerned, I'd rather take my driver's test again than continue to shove my increasingly large ass under one more pint-sized desk.

Bring on the shake, rattle and roll, California. This gal's ready to rock.

A thoughtful commentary on Prop 8

A nicely written piece on state constitutional amendments vs. the rule of the U.S. constitution.

One week ago today

One week ago today, the world started turning again. We elected Barack Obama President of the United States and suddenly it was okay to think about "other things" again. (Those other things primarily being the Himalayan pile of work for my doctoral program that has been piling up for almost two months. Lately my "detached study" status has been a whole lotta detached, and not much study.)

Although I'm still occasionally scanning websites for good post-election commentary and can't-miss photos such as the ones of the Obamas emerging from their car to be greeted by the Bushs at the White House yesterday (it reminded me of a Dave Chappellesque Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?), I am no longer glued to my monitor ravaging HuffPost and Google News for what seemed like hourly twists and turns in the most important political, social and cultural year of my life. I am no longer obsessively turning on NPR the second I hop in the car and then sitting in the parking structure at work for 5 or 10 minutes to finish listening to the morning's election controversy. And although I am still on edge about the passing of Proposition 8 and the social rift it's causing in California and elsewhere right now, I do at least have some faith in its inevitable repeal now that the presidential race has been celebrated and folks are ready to give it their all on what appears to be an ongoing fight for equality and civil rights.

So, I celebrate this one week anniversary with a personal anecdote. Sunday evening we watched the 60 Minutes interview with Obama's "inner circle" and were awed by their admission that Obama's "race speech" he gave in Philadelphia was in fact his idea and almost entirely his doing, only solidifying one of the primary reasons I voted for him--that he is one of the most intelligent and remarkable people we will ever see hold this office. Then later in the evening, I caught a few minutes of Larry King interviewing Obama while I was folding some laundry. And for a split second I caught myself thinking "man, I am so sick of listening to this guy talk." And then I just started laughing. It was like having the euphoria of election night when the results were announced race back through me again. For the past year, I would've listened to Obama talk--about anything--24 hours a day, 7 days a week if I could have. But now the reality of his election sets in, and I feel liberated to both celebrate him and even be mildly annoyed by him as I would any other President--even though I may believe that he is nothing like "any other President."

No on Prop 8 Letter to UM Friends

Emailed Wednesday, November 5th, 2008

Dear U of M Friends-

At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm not a fan of mass emailing and I'm embarrassed to be sending an email to such a large group of people, some of whom I haven't seen or spoken with in quite a while. However, at this point I'm willing to risk my good standing with some to address the gravity of this issue. So please forgive me and know that I would not do this if I didn't really think it was important. Yesterday in California, Proposition 8 passed. And while similar measures passed in other states, the terrifying significance of California's bellwether vote has honestly rocked me to the core. On the same day that we elected our first African-American president, we stripped an entire demographic of its civil rights. This wasn't just a measure to ban gay marriage. Same-sex marriage was already legal and recognized here. Yesterday our state took away rights that had ALREADY been won.

A number of my friends here have expressed varying sentiments to help them deal with the bittersweet nature of Obama's win and Prop 8's passing, such as "We can't win them all" or "win some, lose some." While I too have been so moved by last night's presidential election that I can barely believe it's real, I am also dumbfounded by the irony of these two simultaneous events and the inaccuracy of the above sentiments. This wasn't about "winning" anything. Last night, basic human rights were literally taken away, and done so in the grossest, most unconstitutional fashion imaginable.

As most of you know, I am not a religious person, I am not a traditional person, and I am likely not what you would call a "politically correct" person. In fact, I spend most of my time trying to convince people NOT to get married. However, this proposition is not about marriage, it's not about family, and it's not about being politically correct. It's about civil rights, human rights. And I cannot imagine what it must have felt like to sit there and celebrate an Obama win last night in the face of having one of my basic rights taken away from me. My heart breaks at the very thought of experiencing that kind of personal conflict.

The No on Prop 8 campaign (http://www.noonprop8.com/) and the Human Rights Campaign ( http://www.hrc.org//) struggled to raise the money they needed to fight this outrageous measure in part because so many of us who would have normally donated to this cause, were busy donating whatever we could give to the Obama campaign, and understandably so. Now they need support and money to fight this proposition's passing after the fact, before California's example sets the bar for the rest of the country. Donating even just $5, or passing this on to others you know, really will make a huge difference. And I know that many of you already have.

Again, I'm uncomfortable forwarding this kind of request, but it's just too important not to. Thanks so much for reading this and for your consideration.

I hope all of you are well and still celebrating!