And Like That the Sun Rises

Oh my goodness...taught my final classes of the semester today and am now walking on air. I still have a ton of work to do this weekend, including packing myself up to leave for the summer. But this time next week, I will be completely done with all grading for this semester and only a day away from getting on my flight to California.

It is amazing how much more appealing my students are when I am looking at the back of their heads as they leave for the summer. I think today I hate them all just a little less.

Now let's see if this mood stays with me over the weekend. I'll think I'll begin the weekend by hanging out in front of the TV with the aid of TIVO for a few hours.

A visual representation of my mental state. 

If my dreams are prophetic...

...why couldn't I have had a dream about finishing my dissertation?

I dreamt about an old friend last night and when I woke up I felt sad. We used to be good friends (or at least I thought so) and then all of a sudden this person just stopped communicating with me. Recently I called the person and we spoke for a minute and then s/he said s/he was happy to hear from me and would call back soon and then nothing...It has been months. And the thing is that I understand being busy or just moving on and not wanting to be friends anymore, but still I had hoped that we might reconnect especially now that I live on the East Coast for work and am so lonely and whatever, I am bad at reaching out to people that I like...anyway, so I decided to check out an email account that I never use anymore and I found an email from this person saying in effect "hey I lost all your contact information this is what I was able to find, give me a call." Weird huh?

Anyway, it comes at a weird time because right now, I don't have time for my friends. I need to concentrate on writing a final exam for one course and finishing the grades for another so that I can head to DC next week and then home for a summer of sunshine, seeing the husband, hanging with friends and finally finishing this f'ing dissertation.

How about a Dose of Racism with Your Dessert

I swear I wonder how it is that all smart or even vaguely aware Black people don't just go crazy. I mean can I please just get some ice cream without having to wonder if one of the options will include a racial epithet.

Timothy Noah over at slate.com generally has an interesting take on politics, but I am (and here I am searching for exactly the right word) happy...proud...comforted by the fact that he has now taken up a sideline of pointing out how racially insensitive language is being used in a "joking" fashion by some companies.

I know this controversy mostly occurred in August and that Dairy Queen has already "dealt" with the issue, but seriously there is no way I could ever spend another dollar at the DQ. Not to harp on this issue, but I am absolutely sure that somebody at Dairy Queen knew what they were signifying when they named the "MooLatte." For one thing, just type this word into any spelling check program and tell me what the first suggestion is. Second, having grown up in the South I can say that Dairy Queen seems to have a very good understanding of those markets (where by the way it is part of the very fabric of small communities like the one I grew up in) and no doubt understood that many of its consumers would be in on the "joke."

However, I feel less comfortable with the whole controversy with the Swedish company. I have less of an understanding of whether or not the average Swedish person would have the same interpretation of the name and logo for their product. Nevertheless, here's a suggestion maybe companies should stop trying to sell "black, urban culture" especially in situations where there are no black, urban people who will benefit from that choice.

I mean it's one thing if MC Lyte wants to sell out to the Old Navy by remaking "Bust a Move" to "Bust a Tunic," in my opinion this is a positive sign. It shows that black artists are now able to sell out in the same way that so many white rebels of the 1960s and 1970s are now advertising for Cadillac.

On the Meaning of Office Hours

I haven't posted for a while because I've been overwhelmed by end of the term mayhem. However, today I have a few minutes, because I am in my office for office hours.

As usual I have no student visitors today. I think this is strangely enough the result of the fact that I make myself quite available to students agreeing to meet at alternative times or to answer most questions immediately after lecture ends. Nevertheless, I am forced to have office hours, because that's what people do.

I wonder if my students would feel different about office hours if they realized that it gives me hours of uninterrupted time to think about how lazy and unmotivated they are. I have students who are failing the class or should be, but are not because I am a softie and offer extra credit and other ways of improving ones course grade that are somewhat morally repugnant to me, but have nevertheless become part of my teaching repetoire. These students will email me and otherwise harangue me to let me know that they are working as hard as they can, yet they never come to office hours to see if I have anything to offer in terms of additional help.

I have always loved teaching and I am good teacher. I don't feel embarassed to say so because I've worked hard to get good at this and I continue to work on honing my skills. I have lots of space to improve, but I also have plenty of evidence that I am damn good at what I do. I have won teaching awards, I have letters written to me by students who have left my classes and felt the need to let me know that I was a good teacher and a positive influence.

Yet, this new job (this is my first year as an assistant professor) makes me question my abilities. It started with an assault on my desires to teach and has now becoming a nagging doubt about whether or not I have somehow lost a step in terms of teaching. I don't know, but I do know that I might not be thinking about this if some of students had the good sense to come to office hours.

the high cost of education

So with my dissertation data coming in at a relatively fast past (inducing my jealousy from my fellow experimenters) I realized I had to figure out how to analyze it. Since my department doesn't like to teach methodology related to experimental research designs....I am left to do book learning. So I went to my dissertation committee (all very lovely people), and said how the hell am I supposed to do this. So I was sent off to buy a book, which apparently is a classic, Experimental Design: Procedures for Behavioral Sciences
by Roger E. Kirk (just in case anyone else needs an ANOVA bible).....

But I was somewhat shocked that it cost $175. But since I needed the book, and I have a research account (yeah I am a spoiled grad student) I shelled out the cash. Yet, I was left wondering if methodology book prices are driven by supply and demand, or if there is a conspiracy in which publishers are milking academia for every penny it is worth. Probably it is a supply and demand issue....but I am still annoyed by the high costs of my dissertation. When I started grad school, no one told me I would need a $7,500 grant to do my dissertation....but thank goodness for the NSF....they make my life so much easier, despite all of the paperwork.

Well If You Are Going to Be Politically Correct....

Like most people my age, I grew up watching Sesame Street. Sometimes, when I am lost--physically or metaphysically--I even hum the words to the theme song. Because I really do want "to get where the air is sweet."

So, I was quite dismayed to see that they are tampering with one of my favorite characters, Cookie Monster. It seems that Cookie sets a bad example for the kiddies and now will be explaining that cookies are a "sometimes" food. I agree that childhood obesity is a serious problem and I can understand why the good folks over at the Sesame Workshop want to do their part. However, in fairness, mental health issues and social stratification are also serious social problems that affect the health and welfare of children.

Shouldn't they also have someone speak to the The Count about his obsessive compulsive disorder? And wouldn't it be great if they just acknowledged Big Bird created Snuffleupagus during a psychotic episode with hallucinations and not just sweep it under the rug by making a real Snuffy? And finally, as someone interested in inequality and social policy, I would like to have them address the fact that Elmo has been given many of the vital job functions previously associated with Grover as a result of an ageist policy.

Because Sometimes Softer is Better

Anyone who knows me knows that I have a weird kind of relationship with music. I have ecletic taste but no talent for remembering lyrics, artist names or any other facts that you would expect a music lover to have.

In any case, probably my 3rd favorite type of music is hip-hop (after soul/neo-soul and female jazz vocalist) so I was happy to see that someone else is willing to finally say that while the lyrical stylings of gangstas and playas can be entertaining and sometimes mind-blowing that they also appreciate those people who use hip-hop to entertain without the violence and hypersexual content.

Without these soft-core rappers, hip-hop is a genre inappropriate for children's ears. So I join Murderator in his appreciation of Will Smith because I would want to raise my children to appreciate all types of music and I am glad to be able to find hip-hop that introduces them to it without having to worry that the only thing available is something with themes too mature for them.

And back to that thing about not remembering lyrics here are some I committed to memory more than a decade ago....okay, pay attention here's the thick mythe plot, I pulled up to the corner at the end of my block, that's when I saw this beautiful girly-girl walking, I picked up the car phone to perpetrate like I was talking, you should have seen this girl's bodily dimensions, i honked the horn just to get her attention, she said was that for me, I said, yeah, she said why, i said, come on and take a ride with a hellava guy, she said how do i know you're not sick, you could be some deranged lunatic, I said come on toots my name is the prince besides would a lunatic drive a porsche like this, she agreed and we were on our way, she was looking very good, so was I, I must say...

There more and I know it all including the part that comes before about going school shopping but the point is that this song without curse words or anything left an impression on me as an adolescent, which is more than I can say for alot of things I listened (and listen) to.

I Love Sports I Hate Racist Sports Mascots

Check out this post over at Prairie Sociology by Erin on institutional racism and mascots.

I am a sociologists and I should know better, but I am always unpleasantly surprised by how adamant people are about holding on to their racist mascots. It always feels like it is such a small concession and in this world where sports stadiums change names every few years to match their naming-rights deals and players go wherever the hell they want thanks to free-agency and kids leave college early to make the cash that the NCAA is too ignorant to pay them (all things I have no problem with), it seems even lamer to try to claim that "tradition" dictates choices in the sporting world.

Screw Turning the Other Cheek

Let me begin by saying that I was brought up in a very religious household. I went to Sunday school, Sunday services, Bible Study and Prayer Meetings and more Easter Pageants and Choral Presentations than you can shake a stick at. So I think I know a thing or two about being religious.

So imagine my shock at the fact that the same man who a week ago or so was at least considering adopting Terri Schiavo to save her from the heathens who wanted to let her completely die says that he is willing to sign into a law a statute that allows Floridians to "meet force with force."

Now, I am a bit confused about what the law actually allows:

1. Does it allow only that people can meet force with the amount and type of force that is directed at them as per this newsday article?

2. Or does it allow people to use force whenever they feel threatened as suggested in this yahoo.com article?

In either case, let me say that I am a bit appalled to live in a country (a world) where adults are encouraged to use violence first rather than seeking to flee from dangerous situations where ever they occur. I mean taken to its (il)logical extreme, this law says that if I walk into the house and suspect there are intruders are inside I am entitled to look for my gun, knife, ass-kicking gene etc. as opposed to turning my happy-ass around and calling a cop. That's just ignorant and dangerous for those of us who sometimes think we are tougher than we are.

Gold May Now Be at the End of Rainbows

Year after year, I enter into my "office" NCAA pool and year after year, I land right at the bottom of this pool. I lose to people who never watch basketball, people who choose their winners based on school color combinations, children, dogs, and even people who went to business school. I lose miserably even if I watch tons of college basketball games, read scouting reports, look at home versus road records,use a divining rod, consult with God, it just doesn't seem to matter.

But this year something changed, sure I'm still working on my dissertation, so in that regard not much changed. But, then again, now, I have to teach people who insist that taking notes is too hard so they are wondering if *I* could pass out notes at each lecture and my husband lives 2500 miles away and I have only water and condiments in my refrigerator, so then alot has changed but not for the better. But the something I was referring to at the beginning of this paragraph is the fact that somehow God saw fit to deliver a miracle.

dunt-dunt-dah--- I came in 3rd. And before you ask, yes, there were more than three people in the pool. Okay so it wasn't a "walk on water, turn water into wine, part the Red Sea, wake the dead" miracle, but do you see how crappy my life is these days? I'll take what I can get.

That just goes to show that if you keep trying and you stay up until 5am changing and rechanging your picks and you finally realize the no matter how much you love Stanford they are not a good tourney team and no matter how much you hate Rick Pitino his teams are, then you can eventually be the 2nd best loser. Now for next year, here's what I have to remember,

1. Cinncinati is never as good as I think they are. As a result new picking rule--assume they will win the first round then stop selecting them as the winning team no matter how sorry the other team is.

2. Gonzaga is a Cinderella team and as a result at some point the carriage turns into a pumpkin and the pretty girls end up running home embarrassed, so don't get stuck dancing with them at midnight (the final four).

3. No matter, how much you hate to admit it, even if he is a crazy, rude sociopath he coaches some good basketball, stop picking against Booby.

I'm sure there are some other good rules to follow, but let's face it, I only came in 3rd and so who cares.