I have lately begun surrounding myself with friends who are either Sagittarius or who have backgrounds in a counseling or therapy profession, or both. I did not start out to purposefully do this, but once I noticed that I seemed to be collecting these kinds of people for friends, I kept keeping track. Now, It is altogether possible that they are drawn to me, so I am trying to figure out what it is that is appealing about me for these inquisitive, curious archers and advising helping professional types. I suspect it is that I tell a good story and tend to have some sort of conflict (I refuse to say drama), entanglement, or crossroads in my life that I am seeking input for. I don’t mind saying that I like to get different viewpoints about what’s going on in my life. It helps me make decisions; it also means I can change my mind based on what seems to be most suitable.
They have different approaches, these groups of friends. I don’t think any of them are both Sagittariuses and therapists. If I could find that person, I’d try very hard to move next door to her. Anyway, what this means is that I get different categories of feedback and support. Generally the Sagittarius free-forward-moving spirit helps me break out of my Virgo straight jacket and see my own possibilities. A Sagittarius cheers me on with, “You can DO it! You must GO for it!” as she is boarding the plane for her own next adventure (did I mention that my friends are almost exclusively women friends?). A counselor/psychologist, on the other hand, mainly asks me questions and insists that I feel my feelings before acting on them.
Let me try to back myself out and try to figure out what it is about me that these bits of cheers and counsel meet. Reading the paragraph above, my Sagittariuses pick up on the doubtfulness, tentativeness, resistance, and hesitancy that I counter with impulsive acting out. My mind-pros insist I get to the root of those feelings, which I avoid by impulsive acting out. Reading the paragraph above, I am surprised I have any friends at all. I think I do tell a good story, and am just endearing enough that they keep me around. I am glad they do.
What does any of this have to do with the topic, writing? Well, that’s mostly what I am doubtful, tentative, resistant, and hesitant about. And that is not a good thing, since I really, really need and truly want to be writing. Lately I’ve had the thought that even though I am a professor, I don’t have anything that I want to especially profess. That’s kind of like being on the Island of Misfit Toys. It is not that I don’t feel worthy or lack confidence; I have friends who have those issues as demons. I feel plenty worthy and confident. I think I haven’t found my joy, my bliss in it yet. I don’t think I’ve found a way, even after over a dozen years of being in the academy in one way or another, to do this job, this work, joyfully. And I truly believe it can and should approached and engaged with joy. So, joyfully onward today. My day, my work, my terms. My bliss.
Category: Writing
You Know You’re a Virgo If…
…when you are doing any other kind of writing (like on a fun blog, for example), you feel guilty that you aren’t doing academic (i.e., real) writing.
The Oldest (Writing) Trick in the World
I would bet money that the “oldest (writing assignment) trick in the world” was invented by a high school boy. The kind that ends up a radio show morning dj who, along with one or two other sidekicks–including a woman who is usually the brunt of the sexual joking–fills the a.m. work traffic airwaves with inside jokes and guffaws. I avoid morning radio shows (Rick and Bubba in the Morning, a favorite of my 21 year-old son, which proves my point) at all costs. But in case your’re wondering, I am not a radical public radio snob either, like some of my egghead friends. I don’t need my head hurting from either end of the spectrum in the morning. I send them some money every now and then, though, just to annoy the Republicans. Anyway, you know the kid I’m talking about.
This kid would invariably appear in my Junior English class, where I taught from 1987-2001, and submit a major essay assignment with entitled, “Writing an Essay for Mrs. Hyde’s (that was me then) Formal Essay Assignment.” He then spent 5 paragraphs (intro, body, conclusion) writing about writing (or lack thereof). It was, at first, a cute trick. I always made sure to tweak directions for subsequent essays to include, “and please do not write an essay about how you stayed up all night attempting to compose an essay and here it is, etc., etc.” That usually worked. Actually, some of those compositions were not so bad, probably because the kid thought it was a good idea, got excited about it, and therefore, wrote it pretty well.
This is not exactly that kind of entry. Only half of writing a blog is to mine fresh ideas and strive to find my own relevance. The other half is to write–to keep a writing exercise journal. That means writing–even sometimes lacking a fresh idea. So, this one may not be too innovative, but I have a thought or two about it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about being relevant. I wrote a grant proposal a few weeks ago. Granted, I came up with a topic from scratch–it wasn’t my lifelong burning passion to be sure. Still, I spent weeks on it, and I know it was well written. I’ve never received external funding for my work (possibly because my work sounds a lot like this) and this was a test case at the very least. I was turned down–and I really thought it stood a chance of getting funding.
A big part of academic life (being a professor, for those who do not regularly refer reverently to “the academy”) is rejection. It’s something most of us at one time or another must deal with. I’ve been doing it for seven years and it isn’t getting easier. Although, I realize even when I didn’t do anything but eat Little Debbie cakes and watch tv at home (dreary, lost years indeed) rejection was still present in different ways and still was not any fun. Academics get rejected in all kinds of ways: by journals, conferences, universities where we apply for jobs, publishing companies. We get rejected by anybody who has the ability to reject us, it seems. Some of us more than others, which is an entry all to itself and is coming, believe me.
The grant proposal rejection sparked an ongoing thought for me lately: relevance. Nobody has actually used that word referring to my work; when people do actually read it, it is usually well-received. More to their surprise than mine. This comes under my being my own toughest critic. Here’s the thing. Writing is what I want to do; I am a professor, for crying out loud, which does more than just imply that I have something to profess. I don’t have any news, or celebrity gossip, and I don’t write about vampires. I don’t have any more of a clue than most other people why some children do better in school than others. For me, professing can be very humbling. Who the hell am I and what the hell do I have to profess? Are my thoughts, am I (for it really is the the same thing, see?) relevant? I think about this a lot, and I’m not finished thinking about it.
More on this later.
How to Make a Million Dollars
I don’t know whether to laugh out loud or rage loudly when someone–usually my dad or daughter, who share political views–parrots the far right Glen Beck propaganda that teachers make millions of dollars over our lifetimes and, with the underhanded workings of powerful teacher unions, have more millions of benefits.
If only teachers’ egregious salaries could be reigned in, perhaps we would turn our hearts and minds to educating the country’s rosy-cheeked young. Greedy teachers would then no longer be the ruination of the economy. My daughter actually said to me that Big Education was as bad as Big Oil. But I could hardly hear her over the roar of the engine of my private jet.
I am a professor–a poor one. Not all of us are created equal. Salary is often based on your discipline. The more “marketable” you would be in the real world, the higher your salary at a university. For example, since presumably a marketing major in the corporate world would make significantly more than an education major, business profs make more than I do. Etc. Also, professors often obtain grants to fund projects and supplement income. Problem is, I don’t research anything that could get funded. I’m a theorist. The public generally feels there is enough theory floating around already. I have colleagues who are paid during the summer to transcribe recordings of student teachers talking about their experiences. Or comparing whether students should practice for 10 weeks or 30 weeks before getting certified to teach. Not that these questions are not important. They are. But so also is social commentary about how culture and politics interact and interrelate to schools and schooling. It’s just that nobody throws any money at that one.
In one of this week’s USA Today’s Life sections, there was a feature story about a woman from Minnesota who works in a nursing home, lives with her mother, and has just signed a 2 million dollar contract with St. Martin’s Press for her e-books. I’m just recalling general details here, but I do recall that she primarily writes about trolls. I believe she also wrote a vampire novel. She has sold her e-books for an average of 99 cents each, and has made a couple of million in sales. That means, yes I paused to think about it, that two million people bought an e-book about trolls.
This woman has a web site and blogs about what she’s writing, and has her e-books for sale there. Her sales have been so significant, that she began attracting the attention of publishers–publishers who had sent her rejection letters over the last few years. It is really, really hard to get a book published in the conventional way. Now, though, the companies are competing for her work. Although, their opinion of its quality is still about the same. One representative from St. Martin’s said that although they were thrilled to print and promote her troll work, they believed she could benefit from some MFA classes with the Iowa Writing Project.
The following is from a conversation between me and a friend of mine when I was telling her about this story:
Me: She writes about trolls. This is a very niche market to a very limited group of people. People who like to read about trolls. These people are looking for her and her work. Nobody is looking for me.
My friend: Let’s keep in mind the fact that you haven’t actually written anything…
I have watched Hoda and Kathie Lee all week, and all week they have had a series called “New Year, New You.” Day after day, experts talk about setting and achieving goals. Mainly they suggest you identify your goal and name it, the idea being if you can name it you can do it. This is different from making a new year’s resolution. A resolution made in early January is little more than a public acknowledgement of something you are in need of improving. It’s like what Mary Poppins calls a “pie crust promise: easily made, easily broken.” Goals like I–and Hoda and Kathie Lee’s experts are talking about–are different. They involve more than taking off 20 pounds or adding fiber to your diet. And, it’s ok if you backslide on them, they are still there, and do-able, and you know your life will be better in big ways if you just work toward them.
I’ve been a poor professor for seven years. I have taught 20 different classes, volunteered for committees, been to countless meetings, wrote a book, and got tenure. I will have lived half a century in a couple of years. And after 30 or so years, I have figured out what I want to do. I want to make my living “by the pen,” as Anne Hathaway said as her best British accent in Becoming Jane. And while I may never earn a dime, there are many, many meanings to “making a living.” And I will most likely never write about trolls.
More on this later.
The Front Porch Professor 