Random bullets of OMFG you’ve got to be kidding me

It’s almost the end of the semester here.  I’m knee-deep, soon to be hip-deep, in grading.  Wheeeeeeeee!

  • I’m collaborating on a grant proposal. I recently took the lead on a small but significant part of the project. An organization with whom I thought it would make sense to collaborate just quoted me a price tag for their participation that is, oh, 9 to 15 times what I expected it to be. And these are people with whom I genuinely wanted to collaborate, in part to establish a long-term relationship that would be beneficial to us all. FML.
  • Fortunately, I’ve found similar organizations that are willing to step into that breach, and for 1/3 the cost of what I expected to pay.  Yay!
  • My students are finishing up their 40-person group project, and I’m concluding this semester’s students-with-iPads experiment.  I’ll have more to say about that, I’m sure, when I see the final product.
  • The final product is going to require a bunch of technical work from me. It will test the limits of my WordPress knowledge, I suspect, but the PHP and CSS that don’t kill me my site only make me stronger more likely not to mess it all up in exactly the same way next time.
  • I also had an honest-to-goodness research question, with human subjects approval and everything, related to the mobile learning experiment this semester.  More on that this summer, once I tally students’ responses to the surveys and card sorts.
  • I remember there was a time when I was desperate for journal article ideas. Now I have more than I can write. It’s not a bad problem to have.
  • I had two digital history interns this semester, and the work they’ve done has been really helpful to me and fun and useful for them.  I have a little bit of summer money to throw their way, too, so they can continue with the project.
  • I learned today from a reputable source that a key administrator thinks my plan to fully integrate digital humanities training into our public history M.A. program is solely a ploy to put “toys” (iPads) into faculty hands. Methinks a conversation is in order.
  • I just had a really nice invitation extended to me from another key administrator. It’s nice to know my work with technology is being recognized around here.
  • I’ve also had lots of warm fuzzies from students lately, in that way that only students can give compliments–you know, along the lines of “I fucking hate my other classes this semester. I wish I had you for all my classes because I enjoy our readings and discussions so much!”
  • Today I signed off on an art student’s senior exhibition pieces.  She did an awesome job, and she even referenced taxidermy.  (She put me on her committee because we bonded over our fascination with human hair ornaments and taxidermy on the first day of my Women in the American West class this semester.)  It was fun, too, to be on a committee with three art professors.
  • In other news: sugar cravings are hard.  I think I’ll be happier when the summer fruit arrives.
  • That said, 11.5 days into my veganism, I’m not really missing dairy.  I suspect I’ll go 30 days without refined sugar or artificial sugar substitutes, and then let myself have one treat each week.  The vegan thing will likely last longer, though I may be a fair-weather vegan; I have a soft spot, for example, for parmesan cheese on pasta, and for buttercream cake frosting.  (If you’re a vegan who has a fabulous substitute for such things, let me know.)
  • I was doing this vegan and sugar thing to see how it would make me feel.  A nice side effect? I’ve lost 9 pounds over the past week and a half.
  • Tonight I had a pretty damn brilliant idea for an infographic/stunning visual image. It’s good that I’m married to a graphic artist.  I hope we can bring the idea to fruition.
  • I’m looking forward to summer.  I have too many projects, and I need to try to remember to relax and enjoy my time with the boy.

So, more good than bad.  Yay.

Fifty

Today Fang turns fifty.  Honestly, the way he lived his first quarter-century and part of his second, we’re all kind of shocked he’s made it this far.

That said, I’m incredibly grateful that I’ve been able to spend the last 13 or so years with him.  Thanks, Sweetheart, for your love, generosity, creativity, laughter, and all that music.

Rock on, Fang.  Rock on.

RBOC, that-time-of-the-semester, highly parenthetical edition

  • Good god—it’s been more than two months since I last blogged.
  • It’s that time of the semester. Paper deadlines and exams swoop down upon undergraduates. Students cry in my office and, quietly, at the back of my classroom—but not about the course. Even the usually-stoic-in-class veterans are teetering. One student veteran recently pointed out that his classmate, also a veteran, is much more, er, complicated than he is, though the latter student had only been to one war, and the former had been in two. (These are not UC Davis students, I am constantly reminded.)
  • I, too, have deadlines galore. Maybe I need to have a good cry in my office.  I suspect I’m teetering and haven’t yet recognized it.  (I look around the unbelievable mess of my home office: yep, definitely teetering.)
  • I decided, amidst all this deadlining, to give up sugar.  (Those of you who have ever had a meal with me know to look out the window for pigs on the wing.)
  • And then I thought, hell, why not give up dairy and eggs, too?
  • It’s only day two of those experiments, but I already feel better.  And for the hundredth time I cite the Seamus Heaney line: “You are fasted now, lightheaded, dangerous”—a great time to blog.
  • My kindergartener is so awesome.  And so is his dad.  In fact, I suspect my kid is awesome in large part due to his dad.
  • Fang’s fiftieth birthday is on Friday. How the hell am I married to a 50-year-old man? (And why do I look closer in age to 50 than Fang does?  I must investigate the attic for a portrait.)
  • Mostly I’m feeling overwhelmed with the little things at work.  So many little things! But summer is coming, and the little things will, because they must, go poof!
  • Big things, not so much with the poofing.  I wrote a proposal to Academic Technologies to make our public history master’s degree the university’s “mobile learning” program, and (to, I think, the great disbelief of my colleagues) our department won that CFP. That project will come home to roost in a big way this summer.
  • Our interim chair, who is literally counting down the days to the end of his year in that position, yesterday asked me if I was director of our public history program. Um, no. Regardless, he assigned me to speak as the director of said program when our accreditation visitors arrive next week. “Director” comes with more money, yes?
  • I’m very much in absorption mode, an intellectual sponge. Reading, thinking, reading. Downloading articles. Jotting down notes. And then—miracle of miracles—messing around the edges of articles that need substantial revision.  This is usually a sign that Big Writing is on the horizon. That’s good.  Big Writing must get done.

How are things with you, dear readers?

A confession, with roses

At this point in winter last year, Boise was cold, cold, cold.  I recall still being in a California frame of mind and heading out to prune the rosebushes in late January or early February, Sunset climate zones be damned.

It started to snow.

As much as I love my job here, that moment likely represents the emotional nadir of my life in Boise.  I hadn’t found truly fresh produce for months and I had major cabin fever from what I’m told was a freakish and unusually persistent snow. As the flakes began to fall between the blades of my garden clippers, I confess I thought, “What the fuck have I done?”  (And no, I wasn’t referring to any potential injury to the roses.)

This afternoon Lucas invited me outside to build fairy houses, a popular pastime at his school for hippies’ children and grandchildren. My iPhone told me it was 45 degrees, but it was sunny and warm enough that we could go outside without jackets to collect bark, dried grasses, leaves, twigs, and stones.

While scouring the yard for fey construction material, I noted that all three of the rosebushes in the front yard sported reddish-purple new stems, and a few even had leaves on them. There’s a lone broccoli plant that survived not only the neighborhood mammals last fall, but also the coldest days of this winter. Snow remains on the local mountains, but the foothills are clear of it. Certainly there will be more snow later this month or in March, but for now I can say that I’m content with Boise at this moment.

Since the wine won’t ice up the sidewalk this year, I’m pouring libations to Boreas and Zephyros–and pretending that this isn’t a freak weather year brought to us by global climate change.  I hope you’re having a good winter, too.

One junior historian’s to-do list

Thanks in part to the Modern Language Association and American Historical Association conferences, there’s a lot of talk in the blogosphere and on Twitter right now about what university faculty work should look like, public perceptions of faculty work, and how humanists and historians might think more broadly about how their research and careers intersect with public life.

I have more to say about these topics in a broad, waxing-philosophical sort of way, but for now I thought I’d just share a list of my current projects. Consider it one more data point in describing the workload and work life of a faculty member in history, in my case a junior, tenure-track one at a regional public university.

Please do share your own work.  I’d love to hear what’s keeping you occupied, and I suspect I’m not the only one who would appreciate the opportunity to compare and contrast workloads and projects.

Here’s what I’m doing for the next couple weeks:

  • Collaborating with a colleague on a proposal for an NEH summer institute
  • Collaborating with an interdisciplinary team on an NSF grant proposal to produce a monologue-based play about historical women in science
  • Writing a couple short articles  for an informal science wiki designed to inform applicants for NSF grants in informal science education. Topics:  “In what ways have citizen science programs advanced the public understanding of science and influenced public attitudes about scientific issues?” and “To what extent have humanities content, theory, and methods been incorporated successfully into informal science education, why, and to what end?”
  • Revising a chapter on the myth of Black Confederate soldiers for the book Writing History in a Digital Age
  • Planning for my ambitious spring course
  • Filling out IRB forms so I can later publish research about my spring course
  • Peeking at two journal articles that need extensive revision before resubmission
  • Continuing to shepherd The Boise Wiki I founded last spring, at this moment by applying for a small grant
  • Recruiting history majors to present papers at the regional Phi Alpha Theta conference (I’m the faculty adviser for our local chapter)
  • Mentoring my graduate students, two of whom are presenting their museum exhibits—one on Prohibition in Idaho and one on the Idaho boxcar of the Merci Train—this spring
  • Planning two trips to archives, funded by a research fellowship from my college
  • Preparing a proposal for the Western Museums Association conference
  • Playing matchmaker for history interns and organizations
  • Planning for my one-credit spring workshop “Rethinking Museums”

When I look at this list, it’s kind of crazy-making, especially since it comes on the heels of an exceptionally busy December. I have a mentoring committee that meets infrequently, and the folks on it do know about these activities. At our last meeting, their biggest suggestion for improvement in my progress toward tenure was “publish book reviews.” While I understand the utility of book reviews as a form of service to the profession, I didn’t know whether to roll my eyes or giggle, as I think I really have enough other stuff on my plate that might trump book reviews in my tenure case a few years hence.  (Full disclosure: I’m not sure if I’ve ever read a book review in an academic journal.) So I suppose I should add to my list:

  • Contacting journal editors re: book reviews

What’s keeping you busy at the beginning of 2012?

Awesome image by Chris Scott, and used under a Creative Commons license

Random bullets of updates

. . . aaaaaand scene!  I’ve turned in my grades for the semester, so now I can focus on grant proposals that are due waaaay too soon.  (Someday I’m gonna get me some of that big humanities money, folks.)

So. . .where have I been lately?

I’ve been serving hard time in solitary in Grading Jail, with occasional time off to work as a plagiarism prosecutor.  For the first time ever, I had a student plagiarize an in-class, handwritten final exam.  That’s dedication, my friends.  Tip for future undergraduates: if we don’t discuss Montesquieu in class, it’s probably best to leave him out of your final.  BWOOP! BWOOP! <—-the sound of my plagiarism alarm being triggered.

I went to the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History to check out a couple new-to-me exhibits. Unfortunately, after 10 years of trying to photograph museum exhibits, I’m still crappy at it, but here’s a glimpse of the newish ocean hall:

There’s also a good new human evolution exhibit, as well as a thoughtful one about race in America.  But many other exhibits are in need of updating; for example, 1965 called, and it wants its diorama dinosaurs back:

As my crappy museum photos suggest, I took a lightning trip during finals week to D.C.  Tip for D.C. travelers: Don’t stay in a hotel on a traffic circle, and especially not this one.  I had forgotten how much drivers in D.C. like to honk.  Side note: my room had an exterior door to a shared, hotel-long walkway. It didn’t have a lock on it, and it could be opened from the outside wide enough for someone to peek into the room and possibly throw the improperly installed swing-bar “door guard.” Look, I took a crappy picture of it with my phone one night:

After Christmas, much of my energy will go into planning for my spring course, Women in the American West.  Every student in the 40-person course will be loaned an iPad2, and we’ll be building an online exhibit? presence? experience? about the history of Idaho women’s arts and crafts. I’m talking plein air painting, needlework, Victorian ornaments made of human hair, and taxidermy. Yes–taxidermy! I’m tossing aside the traditional, individually authored research paper for this class in favor of one enormous final digital humanities project co-authored by 40 undergrads.  It could be a total nightmare, but I think my nefarious plans will work.

Intellectually, the end of the summer and first part of the fall was tough, but in the past week I received two invitations to revise and resubmit, one of them relatively simple.  Yay for that.  I also have fellowship funding to travel to archives during both spring and summer breaks, and my teaching schedule in the spring is only two days a week.  This fall it was four days a week, and it ends up such a schedule makes it hard to find time to write.  Who knew?

In family news:

I’m watching my child grow like a weed.  At his last doctor’s visit, he was in the 97th percentile for height, and today we measured him: 4 feet, 3 inches at 6 years, 3 months.  He’s enjoying kindergarten and is becoming totally obsessed with birds and crafting objects out of recycled materials.  Today I taught him how to do running and whip stitches, and he was all about the sewing.  He also seems to be finally catching on to this whole “literacy” thing.  Thank you, Dr. Seuss!

Fang normally does not look forward to the holidays–too much travel, too many obligations–but has been surprisingly chipper this week.

Our 100-pound Lab/Golden Retriever mix–he’ll be 2 years old in February–remains hilariously dumb and blocks our paths through the house most of the time, but is exceptionally sweet and enthusiastic.  His head is so large and cinderblock-esque that he has taken to resting it awkwardly on horizontal surfaces around the house. He keeps us laughing.  Here he is next to the boy, for scale:

What’s going on in your neck of the woods?

What others are saying about recent events at UC Davis

I’ve been following pretty closely the response to the pepper spraying at UC Davis, and I’ve been hoping to find time to blog about it.  Unfortunately, between grant writing and grant reviewing and end-of-semester craziness, I haven’t had time to share or comment on the 75 or so tabs I have open in Firefox at the moment.  Those tabs are really beginning to slow down my laptop, so I thought I’d clear out some of them by sharing some of the more interesting tidbits.

Close readings

Lambert Strether offers a play-by-play description and transcription of the most popularized video of the incident.

Lili Loufbourow undertakes a close reading of one of the videos of the pepper spraying.  Here’s an excerpt:

It’s transcendently brilliant, this tactic–the students offer an alternative in a high-pressure situation, a situation that no one wants, but which seems inevitable in the heat of the moment. It’s an act of mercy which, like all acts of mercy, is entirely undeserved. Watch the other officers’ surprise at this turn in the students’ rhetoric, after they had (rightfully) been chanting “Shame on you!” Watch the officers seriously consider (and eventually accept) the students’ offer.

As the officer in the left foreground teeters back and forth, nervous, braced, thinking, watch the power-drunk cop on the right (who I think is the one who pepper-sprayed the crowd earlier) brandish not one but TWO bottles of pepper-spray, shaking them, not just in preparation, but in anticipation. He’s seconds away from spraying the students again. His mask is up, you can see his face, but it’s a nonexperience: it’s blank, immobile. It would be inaccurate to say that he’s immune to the students’ appeal; he’s not even bothering to listen. All he hears are sounds. No signals, all noise.

Megan Garber suggests that the image of the pepper-spraying cop could change the trajectory of the Occupy movement:

The image itself, I think — as a singular artifact that took different shapes — contributed to that transition, in large part because the photo’s narrative is built into its imagery. It depicts not just a scene, but a story. It requires of viewers very little background knowledge; even more significantly, it requires of them very few political convictions, save for the blanket assumption that justice, somehow, means fairness. The human drama the photo lays bare — the powerless being exploited by the powerful — has a universality that makes its particularities (geographical location, political context) all but irrelevant. There’s video of the scene, too, and it is horrific in its own way — but it’s the still image, so easily readable, so easily Photoshoppable, that’s become the overnight icon. It’s the image that offers, in trending topic terms, a spike — a rupture, an irregularity, a breach of normalcy. It’s the image that demands, in trending topic terms, attention.

And it also demands participation.

Hence we have an entire blog devoted to the meme of the Pepper-Spraying Cop.  Here’s a sample image:

(Speaking of memes, check out the reviews on a pepper-spray canister at Amazon. This one is my favorite.)

Gen Y on Occupy UC Davis

BoingBoing has an interview with one of the students who was pepper sprayed. The student provides a concise summary of what the students are protesting at Davis:

We’d been protesting at UC Davis for the last week. On Tuesday there was a rally organized by some faculty members in response to the brutality on the UC Berkeley campus, and in response to the proposed 81% tuition hike.

One of the reasons I am involved with #OWS, and advocating for an occupy movement on the UC campus, is to fight privatization and austerity in the UC system, and fight rising tuition costs. I think that citizens have the right to get an education regardless of economic condition. Most people are not going to get a job where they can afford to pay off student loans. But to exclude people from knowledge is unconscionable.

Zack Whittaker comments on UC Davis Police Chief Annette Spicuzza’s explanation for the pepper spraying—“Officers were forced to use pepper spray when students surrounded them. . .There was no way out of the circle.” Yet everyone who had seen the videos of the pepper spraying could see that Lt. John Pike stepped over the protestors to spray them in the face. Whittaker uses this failure of police department and university spin as emblematic of the new era of citizen journalism. While I hesitate to call most of the witness-created media from the UC Davis protest “citizen journalism”—much as I’m loath to call this round-up of UC Davis links “curation”—Whittaker does have a point about how Generation Y experiences flashpoints:

What we see in any modern event, no matter how off the cuff or sporadic, is a sea of cameras. One report likened it to a panopticon society.

It is not 911 or 999 we call in an emergency. We do not think to engage with the situation. But what we do, as the Generation Y, is pull out our phones and start recording; documenting every second of the event for history’s benefit.

Responses from UC Davis faculty

As far as I know, the first letter-length response from a faculty member at UC Davis came from Nathan Brown, an assistant professor in the English department, who called for UC Davis Chancellor Linda Katehi’s resignation.

Because it’s been well publicized, if you’ve been following this event at all, you’ve probably already seen music and technocultural studies professor Bob Ostertag’s editorial on the militarization of campus police. (I was Bob’s TA when I started the original Clutter Museum, and if you ever have a chance to hear him speak, I recommend you seize it.) I want to highlight a couple of passages.  First, Ostertag considers the use of pepper spray as both a health concern and disciplinary measure:

I just spoke with a doctor who works for the California Department of Corrections, who participated in a recent review of the medical literature on pepper spray for the CDC. They concluded that the medical consequences of pepper spray are poorly understood but involve serious health risk. As with chili peppers, some people tolerate pepper spray well, while others have extreme reactions. It is not known why this is the case. As a result, if a doctor sees pepper spray used in a prison, he or she is required to file a written report. And regulations prohibit the use of pepper spray on inmates in all circumstances other than the immediate threat of violence. If a prisoner is seated, by definition the use of pepper spray is prohibited. Any prison guard who used pepper spray on a seated prisoner would face immediate disciplinary review for the use of excessive force. Even in the case of a prison riot in which inmates use extreme violence, once a prisoner sits down he or she is not considered to be an imminent threat. And if prison guards go into a situation where the use of pepper spray is considered likely, they are required to have medical personnel nearby to treat the victims of the chemical agent.

(How hot is the pepper spray UC Davis police used?  Check out Deborah Blum’s post for the science of pepper spray.)

Ostertag also provides, very briefly, a history of linked arms in civil rights protests in the United States. He then explains how the meaning of linked arms has shifted:

Throughout my life I have seen, and sometimes participated in, peaceful civil disobedience in which sitting and linking arms was understood by citizens as a posture that indicates, in the clearest possible way available, protestors’ intent to be non-violent. . . .  Likewise, for over 30 years I have seen police universally understand this gesture. . . .

No more.

The UC Davis English department is calling for the resignation of UC Davis Chancellor Linda Katehion the department’s home page. The department also asks for the disbanding of the University of California police department.  The Physics faculty also has released a letter calling for Katehi’s resignation.

Professor Emeritus Jon Wagner offers a flyer for “UCD Omni-Spray: A Broad Spectrum Democraticide” (PDF).

Cynthia Carter Ching has issued an apology to students and encouraged her fellow faculty to recommit themselves to administrivia, even though such work is neither interesting nor fulfilling:

And in many cases that power wasn’t just taken from us, we gave it away, all too gladly.

You know, it wasn’t malicious.  We thought it would be fine, better even.  We’d handle the teaching and the research, and we’d have administrators in charge of administrative things.  But it’s not fine.  It’s so completely not fine.  There’s a sickening sort of clarity that comes from seeing, on the chemically burned faces of our students, how obviously it’s not fine.

So, to all of you, my students, I’m so sorry.  I’m sorry we didn’t protect you.  And I’m sorry we left the wrong people in charge.

On the Monday following the Friday pepper spraying, the UC Davis community held a rally that attracted a couple thousand people (pic).  The Sacramento Bee covered the events, and the Davis Enterprise reported on faculty who participated in the rally.

This week, UC Davis faculty are offering classes in a week-long teach-in. Were I still at UC Davis, I’d definitely be attending several of them.

Yudof has appointed former Los Angeles Police Department Chief William Bratton to lead the investigation of the pepper spraying incident.  The women and gender studies faculty at UC Davis has launched a petition protesting that decision, with a very thorough and, I think, convincing explanation of why Bratton is not a good choice in this case.  You can read their letter, and sign the petition if you’d like, at Change.org.

The bigger context

Kate Bowles at Music for Deckchairs suggests we need to look beyond Lt. Pike and investigate instead the forces that allowed his actions to emerge:

The world’s attention has been focused on the face and demeanour (and now the salary) of Officer Pike, wielding the pepper spray like a bug gun, but what brought each of his colleagues to that point where their collective and individual efforts in that awful situation felt appropriate, inevitable, even wise?  How did each of them get caught up in this profound miscalculation, suddenly and so decisively on the wrong side of our global, chanting crowd?

Several columnists at The Atlantic chimed in as well. Alexis Madrigal picked up on Bowles’s theme with her post “Why I Feel Bad for the Pepper-Spraying Policeman, Lt. John Pike”:

Structures, in the sociological sense, constrain human agency. And for that reason, I see John Pike as a casualty of the system, too. Our police forces have enshrined a paradigm of protest policing that turns local cops into paramilitary forces. Let’s not pretend that Pike is an independent bad actor. Too many incidents around the country attest to the widespread deployment of these tactics. If we vilify Pike, we let the institutions off way too easy.

James Fallows considers the moral power of images emerging from the UC Davis protests and in another post highlights the callousness of the pepper spraying:

Watch that first minute and think how we’d react if we saw it coming from some riot-control unit in China, or in Syria. The calm of the officer who walks up and in a leisurely way pepper-sprays unarmed and passive people right in the face? We’d think: this is what happens when authority is unaccountable and has lost any sense of human connection to a subject population. That’s what I think here.

Also at The Atlantic, Garance Franke-Ruta offers a round-up of videos of violent police crackdowns against the Occupy protests. Ta-Nehisi Coates asks us to place the pepper spraying in a broader cultural context:

Not to diminish what happened at UC Davis, but it’s worth considering what happens in poor  neighborhoods and prisons, far from the cameras. I’m not saying that to diminish this video in anyway. But I’d like people to see this a part of a broad systemic attitude we’ve adopted as a country toward law enforcement. There’s a direct line from this officer invoking his privilege to brutalize these students, and an officer invoking his privilege to detain Henry Louis Gates for sassing him.

Leadership

Cathy Davidson calls the pepper spraying a “Gettysburg Address moment,” in that “moral authority and moral force needs to be eloquently articulated before this historical moment devolves into violence and polarization.” She asks college presidents nationwide to demonstrate wisdom, passion, and moral vision.

University of California system President Mark Yudof issued a response to the pepper spraying. In response to his letter, Lili Loufbourow offers what is, in my opinion, the best-titled post on the whole clusterfuck: “Dear Mark Yudof: The Cemetery You Manage Can Hear You.”  (The reference is to Yudof’s quip to the New York Times that “being president of the University of California is like being manager of a cemetery: there are many people under you, but no one is listening.”) Loufbourow gives us a blow-by-blow analysis of UC administration response to incidents at Berkeley and Davis–it’s worth a read, but if you work for the UC or a similar system, be sure you take your blood pressure meds first.  See also the e-mail messages from UC Berkeley Chancellor Robert Birgeneau et. al. to see in even more detail how the rhetorical sausage gets made.

Sherry Lansing, the chair of the UC Regents, released a carefully scripted and unpersuasive video statement.  In a complete monotone, she declares, “We Regents share your passion and your conviction for the University of California.” To demonstrate the Regents’ dedication to the UC community, they’re opening up their next teleconference meeting to public comment for a whole hour. How generous!

Katehi

It ends up UC Davis Chancellor Katehi is one of the authors of a recent report recommending the end of university asylum in Greece. Niiiiice.

Here’s Katehi leaving a press conference and being greeted by a phalanx of students, faculty, and staff that was, by some estimates, 1,000 people strong:

She is accompanied by the campus chaplain, Rev. Kristin Stoneking, who wrote a moving post on why she walked Chancellor Katehi from the press conference.

I’m so proud of UC Davis students right now. For once I say this without sarcasm: Stay classy.

“A community that embraces civility”

In case you missed it, here’s what’s going on at my alma mater this week:

. . .and here’s a screenshot of the campus’s home page:

Dissonance!

As you can see from the video, many students recorded these events, so if you’re interested in raising your blood pressure and righteous indignation, you can watch several of them on YouTube.  Here are a few:

And some international coverage:

Media sources are reporting that the officer who sprayed the students is Lt. John Pike.  (His LinkedIn page says he’s open to “job inquiries” and “expertise requests.”  I’m sure law enforcement departments across the U.S. will be knocking on his door, eh?)

Nathan Brown, an assistant professor of English at UC Davis, has asked for the chancellor’s resignation.  Here’s an excerpt from his open letter:

Police used batons to try to push the students apart. Those they could separate, they arrested, kneeling on their bodies and pushing their heads into the ground. Those they could not separate, they pepper-sprayed directly in the face, holding these students as they did so. When students covered their eyes with their clothing, police forced open their mouths and pepper-sprayed down their throats. Several of these students were hospitalized. Others are seriously injured. One of them, forty-five minutes after being pepper-sprayed down his throat, was still coughing up blood.

Hey, look–you can leave a note for UC Davis Chancellor Linda Katehi.  You can bet I did.  I believe I used the words “Clark Kerr must be spinning in his grave.”

Update: The UC Davis administration has representatives infiltrate protests.

How are things in your corner of academe?

Hard time

Fang volunteered to portray Troy Powell, a condemned murderer who was hanged with his co-conspirator in 1951, for the Frightened Felons event at the historic Old Idaho Penitentiary.  His performance was apparently, erm, memorable.  As he writes in a recent blog post, the most common advice he received was “Dial it back!”

Here’s his portrait from the evening, as found on the Old Pen’s Facebook page and taken by Nette Shaff:

Random bullets of September

I accomplished an amazing number and quantity of things today, but of course it wasn’t enough.  And now I’m supposed to be grading, so instead I’m blogging, random-bullets style.

  • I had a lovely happy hour on Friday with Lisa V, who introduced me to a bunch of other moms I should know.  Lisa and I met on the Internet, of course, over at Phantom Scribbler’s place, though occasionally we tell people it was on Craigslist via “Casual Encounters.”  There are many good things about living in Boise, and Lisa is near the top of that list.
  • There are also many things about Boise that need improving.  Number one on my list: grocery stores.  I’ll have a post forthcoming on that soon.  If this whole tenure-track thing doesn’t pan out, I may open a grocery store or deli, as Boise is desperately in need of a fabulous example of each.  (Seriously: my favorite deli in Davis was in a grocery store. One of their regular sandwiches featured sauteed Granny Smith apples, brie, and whole-grain mustard on a roll baked on site. For $5.49. Sorry, Jimmy John’s–the white roll and shredded iceberg lettuce gooped with mayo aren’t cutting it for me.) I’ve been trying to approach all this mediocre food as “exotic flyover state cuisine,” but that’s just not working for me anymore.  Those of you who know me well will be shocked at this: I haven’t had Thai food for months because the stuff here just doesn’t compare to California Thai.
  • I’m in that magical place where I have two journal articles and one book chapter (for an edited volume) out for review.  As tenure at this place apparently consists of three good articles, service, and good teaching, one of my colleagues said to me, “Well, you can stop working now!”  Instead I’m grading papers, trying to get undergrads in a lower-division survey course to see the charms of Historiann’s Abraham in Arms (it has many!), giving a presentation tomorrow about having my grad students create mobile public history projects, reading another new-to-me book before my undergrad public history class on Tuesday, bringing snacks for kindergarten tomorrow, grading a set of papers, scheduling guest speakers for my class, finding internships for those last three students before the registration deadline, gnawing my fingernails over the distance between now and payday, helping Fang learn Omeka, and trying to figure out how, really, one best introduces one’s beloved dead grandmother’s everyday stainless into one’s own silverware drawers with more love than pain. And that’s just this week. Perhaps it’s all a bit too much?
  • Next semester I’m teaching an upper-division seminar called “Women in the West.” Anyone have suggestions for readings? I’m trying to look beyond pioneer women, and I have the California Gold Rush covered pretty well. Multiculturalism, urbanism, and the twentieth century are particularly welcome.  I’m doing pretty well with Asian Americans and Native Americans. I could use some suggestions for African Americans (I have a nice piece on Biddy Mason, but not much else) and the Chicana/Latina experience.
  • The trees in my front yard have cast off a few leaves. They only finally leafed out in June, so I figure they owe me leafiness until at least late November, yes?  (Where I grew up, the trees that did lose their leaves lost them between Thanksgiving and Christmas and blossomed no later than February.  Is five months of foliage really too much to ask?)
  • Lucas is getting cranky.  I’m hoping we can chalk it up to his new molars coming in and his going to a new, albeit awesome, school–and not just the Reality of Being Six.

What’s up with you?  Feel free to leave your own random bullets in the comments.