Navigating ambition, growth, and emotions

I'm not really sure where to start. It's been a while? I've been busy? I think I've done all of that before. So instead, I think I'll try to jump in and I hope you can follow along.

There are many decisions I made as a young adult that put me on this trajectory. There are many decisions I made even technically as an adult adult that put me right here right now. And yet, here I am, Interim Co-Director of the Library and newly appointed Director of Gender Studies and I have these very surreal moments questioning how I got here and who thought I could be trusted to be in charge. I think these feelings are by no means unique to me, I'm pretty sure I've read almost those exact words from a 40-something before. But I'm still curious about whether this is something that everyone has experienced throughout the history of humans (in bureaucracies?) or if this is something particular to Gen Xers and Millennials, and even those Gen Z folks that are put in charge of organizations already. 

I've never considered myself ambitious, and like many others, I've often said that I don't want to be in charge. I don't want to be at the top, making all of the decisions, being more "professional" than I prefer to be. However, here I am. 

I've been clawing and grabbing for any type of recognition I can get for the library for years. It's yet another well known issue in Higher Ed that librarians generally are unknowns, we are somehow literal blind spots to upper administration. Do we only shelve books? Maybe we need to meet our shushing quota for the week? Definitely we must be very very old fashioned. 

 

Photo by Ed Robertson on Unsplash. 

Maybe you thought that searching the word "librarian" would bring up mostly pictures of librarians? You may be surprised that it's actually mostly pictures of old books. Because that's all we are/do - hang out with old books.

 

 

 

Of course, those of us doing the work in academic libraries know that we are doing a ton. Some of us more visibly engaged than others who work behind the scenes. This invisibility only hurts us. Keeps us in this category of meek, quiet, old, traditional, and probably unnecessary since everything can be found on Google. Then, sometimes the stars align and my colleague and I are put in charge. 

 I don't think they were ready. My co-director, MC and I manage to blend our skills, experiences, and personalities so seamlessly together that I don't know if there's ever been a stronger team. I am often the passionate and outspoken one - I'm colorful, loud, mostly unafraid to ask the questions that need to be asked. MC tends toward a muted palette of greys, black, and calming neutrals. She is more reserved, rarely saying more than exactly what needs to be said; she kind of skims under the radar and I love it when she does speak up because I know that people are listening. I think we're able to play good cop/bad cop without ever planning to. And lately, maybe we've been spending too much time together, we are switching roles without any needed conversation. 

I've struggled with my anger, frustration, and need for acknowledgement while in this career. I don't understand why we keep doing the same damn things over and over. It hurts to realize that even friends that I'm the closest with think of me as a glorified research assistant. 

But I'm trying something new and different this week. Hopefully the bandwidth and newness don't wear off and reveal my naiveté and my attempt to organize, strategize, and do more. I want to throw my whole self into the work that I love. Because I love it and want campus to understand that even though we aren't a money-making department, we are a force to be reckoned with and probably some metaphorical vital human body part or system (are we the backbone? the nervous system? maybe even the digestive system?). I get it that we all think we're important, so that limelight is a tiny space to bring everyone in to shine.   

Writing about writing

We've reached another rough patch of the year. Believe it or not, academic libraries do get busy in the summer. But it's not the way it is busy during the school year, this is when we do projects that we can't do when students are here. 

Between attempting to juggle projects and now the additional work of being the interim co-director of the library, I've struggled to stay interested and involved with my writing projects. I'm feeling very much at capacity. However, the various projects I have (and now some new ideas!) are bumping around in the back of my head and I'm considering how they'll fit in the format of a blog post, with such a heavy emphasis on my opinion/experience integrated with research.

So, today, I'm thinking a little more about what this writing will be about. How will it fit in with my "professional" writing - about libraries, what about my personal journaling? Or is it some type of an effort to bring together a bit of everything - to work through my experiences in life and add in the research I've done related to gender studies. I feel a need to write about some of the bigotry I see in contemporary pop culture, and of course I see that all through the lens of my experience and interests. 

I realize that many of the non-fiction writing I read is in this vein. Anne Helen Peterson, Rebecca Solnit, and Roxane Gay; contemporary writers thinking about how our lived experiences are intersecting with the outside world. I'm not claiming this is anything new, but I'm finding it interesting to realize how much this has influenced my perspective on content. 

While I've been writing this and navigating a few supervisory type conversations, I've been thinking about libraries and racism. And how they're built for white people. This came up in a conversation about the Writing Center and making it more accessible for BIPOC folks. This stigma of accessing services is of course familiar and aligned with the research for libraries too. And that makes me wonder whether our architects have looked at newly constructed libraries at HBCUs, and I wonder if I can find any examples. I also want to make sure that we're doing better/our best to reach out to the cultural orgs directly. I feel a little bad that even the Provost was like, have Amy do it (instead of the project coordinator who is a woman of color - I believe she identifies as Black). And of course, this makes me consider a future paper with the Director of the Writing Center about all of this. 

I've also been thinking about the movie CODA and my identity as a CODA. It's rather unfortunate, ableist, and privileged to think that many people hailed CODA as a movie about/for the Deaf community. I still haven't went back to see how Deaf folks felt about it. I can't even remember whether my parents saw it. But now that it was brought back to my attention, I think it also needs to be addressed. Yes, it was incredibly good to see representation of one of my lesser identities on the big screen, handled fairly well. And I think the Deaf actors/characters were portrayed well (I would need to re-watch to see if there was anything problematic I can spot). But in the end, it's rather wild to think that this movie that is ostensibly about hearing people, but happens to include Deaf people, is celebrated as a "Deaf movie." Of course, I'm going to mostly chalk this up to people being completely clueless about what CODA means, but it's not that hard to do a quick search about a phrase/acronym like that. 

It's always funny to me how much writing will pull out thoughts and new ideas. I'm never surprised by this, but I still fight it tooth and nail!

What do we do when we are overwhelmed?

 I am feeling very stuck. A lot has happened in the world and in my personal life over the last week. Each week feels like more heavy things to deal with. Many of us are still dealing with the repercussions of the pandemic as well as new and different experiences for our work and educational spaces, supporting our families and friends, and/or reeling from traumatic government-level decisions - from war in Ukraine to the dismantling of bodily autonomy, human rights, and voting rights. 

While working on researching for my next essay, I am feeling distracted and scatterbrained more than usual. In my writing accountability group, I was challenged to use this space and try to write about this example of writer's block and mental capacity. Unsurprisingly, this felt like the right move, to take some space here to consider my writing processes and at the same time work through my feelings. 

I'm struggling to start each paragraph, not because I have nothing more to say, but because I have too many things and can't get them all out at once. Most of the writing I do outside of this space is fairly rigorous and academic. I take a lot of time with planning, researching, editing, and rewriting. On the other hand, this blog space is often closer to a brain dump and I enjoy both ways that I approach writing. 

I'm involved with two book discussion groups right now on campus. In one, we're reading Linguistic Justice by Dr. April Baker-Bell. The other group is reading The Trees by Percival Everett. Each discussion is organized and mostly comprised of a slightly different group of people, Linguistic Justice is predominantly faculty and we're considering how we can teach better and differently and staff council organized the reading of The Trees. The Trees is confrontational, challenging, and a bit spooky. It takes place in modern America and deals with race, class, and history through the telling of a complex (and possibly supernatural) murder mystery. In each discussion, I've needed to attempt to limit the references I'm making about the other book, only because while there is some overlap, each discussion has slightly different attendees. I'm getting so much fulfillment about these conversations because it's giving me space to process the synthesis and connections I'm making between books, teaching, work, life, and more. 

I've never considered myself a writer, I often mention that it's like pulling teeth for me. Except in journaling situations like this. I'm a reader, through and through. In my academic writing, I'm happy to gather information, read, annotate, and begin the necessary synthesis, but when it comes to writing, I balk. I wonder if a part of that is feeling too restricted. The voice of academic writing is comfortable and familiar for me to read (generally), but it's not how I write. When I write, I want feelings and emotions, action, and personality. Of course, as I'm wrapping this up, I want to pull some of these feelings together to tie them to BOTH of the books referenced above. In Linguistic Justice and The Trees, there is overt and subtle commentary on the supposed neutrality of academic writing. In Linguistic Justice, this is about policing language as an aspect of racism. In The Trees, it's similar, but also adds a layer of Black folks struggling for recognition and validation. My immediate reaction to these ideas was to consider how patriarchy exerts itself as the language of logic - women (women's language, feminized language, and the other) all write with emotion. In my efforts to pull down hierarchy, this dichotomy of logic over emotion is a personal battle to me. 

My writing peers also pointed out some of the differences in style, tone, and subject matter for the writing projects I described to them. I'm hoping to be able to use the play of emotion, opinion, anecdotes and research and data to best make my thoughts clear. In a place with fewer hierarchies, we wouldn't need to choose between logic and emotion. We could use both together to express our ideas without needing to hold back. I am looking forward to leaning into these challenges.

Bringing this back 12 years later

What does it mean when a blog has gone silent for 12 years and suddenly comes back to life? It probably means an academic is trying to work through some writing and projects. I'm trying my hardest to not hide the older posts - I just finished grad school for the first time and trying to use writing to parse through all of the new things I was learning about. 

I'm hoping to use this space for a few projects, the main one will most likely be cultural commentary - specifically through the lens of intersectional feminism with a strong anti-racist leaning. I'm all over the place with my interests currently. I'll probably cover topics like pop culture, politics, environmental racism and climate change, and maybe some reviews or reflections of books I'm currently reading. I don't know where this will go or if I'll be able to maintain it, but here we go!

femivore?

do i have to add this to the ever growing list of made up phrases that are used to describe me?
according to this recently posted article on NYTimes: "Femivorism is grounded in the very principles of self-sufficiency, autonomy and personal fulfillment that drove women into the work force in the first place."
the article goes on to describe the way that i feel i have been trying to steer my life:

Given how conscious (not to say obsessive) everyone has become about the source of their food — who these days can’t wax poetic about compost? — it also confers instant legitimacy. Rather than embodying the limits of one movement, femivores expand those of another: feeding their families clean, flavorful food; reducing their carbon footprints; producing sustainably instead of consuming rampantly. What could be more vital, more gratifying, more morally defensible?

i hate that this article, and honestly, the whole idea of femivorism, is so tied up in the women's lib movement. first women were stuck at home, then we were allowed to go work (and most women strongly embraced working outside of the home), more recently feminists have argued over the decision to be a stay at home mom.
i have no desire to be a stay at home mom, but i would love to essentially run a small farm (when i say farm, i mean turn my regular sized back yard/front yard into all producing plants including fruit trees/bushes, and maybe chickens and/or goats) as well as continue to work outside the home. i realize i may be falling prey to that other feminist problem of "having it all," but most of that farming stuff is so far in the future, i am not even worried about it. since most of my femivore dreams can't come true yet, i just try to grow as much of my own food as i can from my community garden plot, get a larger portion of my food directly from farms, and supplement the rest of organic/locally produced items.
to many people, the ideas of independence and self-sufficiency seem like a step backwards in modernity. i don't agree with this, this new idea of modernity is made with a full understanding (and mostly appreciation) of technology and it's impact on the world. it is not a complete rejection of technology or civilization (these would be steps backwards), instead it is a broader viewing of the world, it's people, and how we effect nature.

oryx and crake

homo sapiens doesn't seem able to cut himself off at the supply end. he's one of the few species that doesn't limit reproduction in the face of dwindling resources. in other words-and up to a point, of course- the less we eat, the more we fuck.

how do you account for that? said jimmy.

imagination, said crake. men can imagine their own deaths, they can see them coming, and the mere thought of impending death acts like an aphrodisiac. a dog or a rabbit doesn't behave like that. take birds- in a lean season they cut down on the eggs, or they won't mate at all. they put their energy into staying alive themselves until times get better. but human beings hope they can stick their souls into someone else, some new version of themselves, and live forever.

as a species we're doomed by hope, then?

you could call it hope. that, or desperation.

but we're doomed without hope, as well, said jimmy.

only as individuals, said crake cheerfully.

"oryx and crake" margaret atwood



also read her newest book "year of the flood"
great "speculative fiction" (she refuses to call them sci-fi/fantasy)

guest blog for ecofiend

****RE-BLOG**** see original post here

We heard from Neale a couple of weeks ago about various ways to eat as locally as possible. I wanted to take some time to tell you about the main way that I have chosen to do my part for the locavore movement. This past spring I joined a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) through a local farmer. If you will remember Neale’s description of a CSA, I subscribe directly to a farmer for a box of produce every week. Because this is a large initial investment, my husband and I share our box with another couple. We subscribe through Angelic Organics, and they have done everything possible to make sure that we enjoy our weekly produce. At the beginning of the season we received a cookbook that is specific to the farm and the produce they grow and every week we receive emails that let us know what will be in our box including even more possible recipes to use.

The farm that I subscribe to has different types of subscriptions, including the option to include fruit or choose a shorter length of time to be subscribed. I signed up for a 20-week share of vegetables and recently added a 4-week winter subscription. Our box is 3/4 of a bushel, it is delivered to a pick-up site about a half mile away (I can walk or ride my bike there), and started in mid June and has 1 week of the regular season left (before the Winter share starts). I think it has been well worth the investment. At times I get a little overwhelmed by how many veggies I need to eat in a week, but I have tried many different vegetables I’d never had and probably never would have bought on my own. I also am finally eating the recommended daily amount of vegetables and have even managed to lose some weight (and keep it off) with this change of diet.

You may think we haven’t been getting any good veggies since it’s been pretty cold recently. Maybe you think that only during midsummer, when tomatoes, peppers, and corn are coming in, that a produce subscription would be worth it. I want to talk about the veggies I got this week in my box, because they are all tasty, beautiful, and out of the ordinary.



This is a selection from our box this week, and because I couldn’t fit everything on the table, I decided to show at least one of each item. Because you may not recognize everything in the picture, I’ll briefly go through each veggie.

Carrots, potatoes, lettuce, spinach, and onions are all fairly common vegetables; we have been getting a couple of pounds or bunches of each the last few weeks. I am fairly familiar with almost everything else that is here, but celeriac and its greens and rutabaga were new to me. I learned from the accompanying newsletter that celery root greens have hollow stems and could therefore be used like straws. I immediately made myself a Bloody Mary with a celery root straw and it added great celery flavor! Rutabaga, like many other root vegetables, are great roasted or mashed like potatoes. Butternut squash, sweet dumpling squash, and acorn squash are great roasted or cooked and tossed with pasta. I love the fact that this late in the year we are still getting fresh salad greens as well as spinach and chard: the latter two can be eaten raw as well as cooked.

I hope this gives you a good idea of what a typical late fall produce box looks like, look into finding a CSA that would fit your needs and budget. Here are a couple of places to start looking for a CSA for you:
thelocalbeet.com (Chicago area)
localharvest.org