Engaging – Page 26

In memory of Judith (1942-2009)

One year ago, on September 30, 2009, my amazing mother, Judith Puotinen died. She died way too young (at 67) from a horrible form of cancer (pancreatic). I have written extensively on this blog about the process of living and grieving beside her as she struggled to maintain (at least in moments) a livable life. And I am excited to announce that an essay that I first began on this blog about that process will be published in a special issue on Mothering, Bereavement and Loss this December. But today, in honor of her, I don’t want to dwell on the terribly painful process of watching her slowly die. Instead, I’d rather remember who she was before (and outside of) the illness and how living beside her for 35 years, 3 months and 1 day has shaped me.

But, how can I conjure up memories of healthy, pre-cancer/no-cancer Mom, when I can’t get rid of those images of her dying in the hospital bed in the middle of the living room? And who was I before she got cancer? My mom was diagnosed in October, 2005. Even though she had been rushed to the emergency room over a week before, it wasn’t until I got the phone call from my dad saying that she had pancreatic cancer that I realized that she was going to die…soon. Pancreatic cancer is an especially deadly form of cancer, partly because it is usually only detected in the final stages. To be diagnosed with it is almost always a death sentence of six weeks or less (my mom beat the odds by living for almost 4 years). Any efforts to reverse that sentence are ultimately futile. As her doctor grimly told us at the hospital shortly after they successfully removed her tumor, the surgery and any chemo that she might do, would just be “prolonging the inevitable.” Didn’t I just write that I don’t want to dwell on her illness here, but to celebrate her life? Forgetting the cancer and the way it has shaped who I am and how I remember my mom is very, very hard. Her diagnosis changed my life and has distorted my memory of her and of us as mother and daughter, as friends, and as kindred spirits who shared amazing, and seemingly endless, conversations while walking and hiking.

Now that a year has passed, I am starting to remember brief fragments of my mom and our conversations. We used to talk about everything: books we were reading…She read A LOT of books. She always used to have a big stack of books by her bedside table. Two of the last books that I remember her reading before her anxiety and the morphine made it impossible for her to concentrate were Beowolf and de Tocqueville’s On Democracy…current events, my research, her artwork (she was a fiber artist/weaver) and whatever else we were curious about. These conversations were always intense and involved thoughtful and imaginative engagements with ideas and each other. They often lasted for hours. I remember walking around Savannah, GA for almost 8 hours just talking and talking…and talking. A couple of weeks ago I was taking a walk with my 4 year old daughter Rosie and we were talking about religion and nature and I was suddenly reminded of those great conversation walks that I used to have with my mom. I said to Rosie, “You know, your Nana and I used to take walks and talk like this all of the time. I really miss them. I’m so happy that you and I can take them now.”

Thankfully, my recollections of those conversation walks are not the only evidence of their existence. Brief moments of them have been documented in the two farm films that I created, along with my partner, in 2001 and 2003 (the second one is dedicated to my mom). But those moments are polished and shaped to fit into a narrative about the farm and the Puotinen women as storytellers. As my mom and I walk, you see us talking, but our voices are muted as the soundtrack for the movie plays. This summer, I was looking over the raw footage from those films (hours and hours of it) and found some unedited moments of those engagements from June 30, 2001 (over 4 years before she was diagnosed and most certainly before the tumor had started to grow). My mom and I (with STA filming us) are hiking at our family’s farm (sold in 2004) and talking about the farm, the lived experiences of Finnish women immigrants, raspberries, coming to the farm for the first time and my sister’s (MLP’s) terrible case of poison oak…or was it poison sumac? The sound quality is not the greatest (wind distorts the sound from the built-in microphone and rustling in the grass makes it sometimes hard to hear what we are saying), but still enables me to re-imagine that time, especially in my 20s, when my mom and I would talk and walk and engage, two kindred spirits, joyfully allowing our curiosity to open us to new ways of thinking and being and reflecting and connecting.

note, March 4, 2023: Currently, the video is missing. I’m hoping to find it and add it back in.

Can you ever have too much trouble?

The semester has begun–two weeks done already!? Anyway, I am once again making trouble by pushing at the limits of how to engage with ideas inside and outside of the classroom. I’m also pushing at the limits of what I, as the instructor, can manage in the semester. In a recent tweet, I wrote: “Is managing and writing on 4 blogs and 3 twitter accounts too much? Not sure yet.” I’m not too worried…yet. The beginning of the semester is always crazy as I adjust to new students, new classrooms and new assignments.

I plan to regularly revisit this question of taking on too much trouble throughout the semester. I think it is a really important one as I think about the limits and possibilities of social media in the classroom (which is a key theme for both classes). Here are the links to my course blogs:

Every year I increase my participation on the course blogs. More comments, more entries, and now, more tweets. But, will I be able to keep up with my own personal blogs? I really hope so!

Word Count: 184

Race and troublemakers as future prisoners

Last week I tweeted about this article from Sociological Images via Racialicous: Framing Children’s Deviances. In her brief analysis/comparison of the media representation of two boys’ (one white, one black) troublemaking joy rides, Lisa Wade references a book that might be important for thinking about how race shapes our understandings and assessments of troublemaking in its various forms: Bad Boys: Public Schools in the Making of Black Masculinity. I checked this book out from the library and just started reading it this afternoon. From what I have read so far, I think that Ann Arnette Ferguson could offer some important insights on how we discipline children and shape/regulate/distort their expressions of troublemaking.

Check out what she has to say about trouble and the purpose of her study:

But trouble is not only the site of regulation and stigmatization. Under certain conditions it can also be a powerful occasion for identification and recognition. This study investigates this aspect of punishment through an exploration of the meaning of school rules and the interpretation of trouble from the youth’s perspective. What does it mean to hear adults say that you are bound for jail and to understand that the future predicted for you is “doing time” inside prison walls? What does school trouble mean under such deleterious circumstances? How does a ten-year-old black boy fashion a sense of self within this context (2-3)?

I really like how she doesn’t just theorize about how schools “create, shape and regulate” students’ social identities, but she also discusses the agency of the students and their participation in and resistance to schools’ rules and regulations (2). I can’t wait to read more.

A few links I want to re-read (or reference)…someday

Ever since I got my iPad in May, I use it a lot for my morning internet news reading. For some reason, I can’t figure out how to make bookmarks on my iPad version of safari (which might be a good thing because I tend to bookmark lots of links that I never return to). So instead, I have started emailing myself the links. Now my inbox is filled with them and I’m feeling the need to clean (which doesn’t happen that often–as hard as I try, I usually have hundreds of emails in my two main mail accounts. Sigh).

Since I use this blog as an archive for ideas, I have decided to post a brief “annotated” list of these links/entries/articles:

1. Childhood, Disability and Public Space a blog entry by Angus Johnston at Student Activism
This entry, which links to an interesting thread on Feministe about kids and public space, is about the rights of children and adults with disability in relation to public space. Here’s his conclusion:

Which brings me to my most important point: that the duty to minimize disruption isn’t a duty that the young and the old and those with disabilities have to the robust adults among us, it’s a reciprocal duty that each of us, whatever our condition, has to each of our neighbors, whatever their condition.

Each of us has an obligation to refrain from whining too long or too loudly in museums. But each of us also has an obligation to accept the company of others good-naturedly, and to respond with grace when disruptions inevitably occur.

Why I’m archiving it: This essay resonates with me on a number of different levels–personally (as the mother of two young children who struggles to navigate public space with them and in the midst of other parents who do seem to feel entitled to take up lots of space, and as a daughter who witnessed my mom’s fearful attempts to inhabit public space as terminally ill, slow-moving and fragile without being knocked over or shoved out of the way) and intellectually (I like thinking about the links between public space, children and disruption).

Where I found it: random twitter search on @bitchphd, buried deep on page 2 or 3

2. threadbared a blog by Mimi Thi Nguyen and Minh-Ha T. Pham
Here’s a description of this super-cool blog:

Threadbared is an evolving collaboration between two clotheshorse academics to discuss the politics, aesthetics, histories, theories, cultures and subcultures that go by the names “fashion” and “beauty.” With commentary on how clothes matter, as well as book and exhibit reviews and interviews with scholars and artists, Threadbared considers the critical importance of taking clothes –and the bodies that design, manufacture, disseminate, and wear them– seriously as an entry point into dialogue about the world around us.

Why I’m archiving it: Okay, I’m not really into fashion that much (but maybe after reading this blog, I will be!), however I am familiar with Mimi Thi Nguyen’s work (Alien Encounters and a brief online essay on Mulan from years ago) and I appreciate the ways in which she brings feminist, queer, and anti-racist analyses to bear on pop culture. Minh-Ha T. Pham’s work seems pretty cool too; I especially like her post (which I just found) on why I feel guilty when I don’t blog. And here’s one more reason: this is a kick-ass blog done by academics who are using their impressive set of critical tools (feminist transnational studies, queer theory, critical media studies) to critically reflect on popular (fashion) culture. And it’s a diablog. This is a great model for being diablogical!

Where I found it: Wow, I wish I could remember. Probably twitter again. I think twitter is my new researching BFF. Seriously, twitter is a great resource. I will definitely have to use it in my classes this year.

3. May I, Please, Queer Your Kids? The New Queer Pedagogy an online article by Stephanie Jo Marchese in a Special Issue of MP: An international feminist journal
In this article, Marchese opens her discussion of queer pedagogy and the queer classroom with one queer student’s story (Sara) of being deemed a threat by her teachers:

By asserting the contagion of queerness, any school system, any teacher, any student, and any administrator has an increased chance of exposure. Paranoia becomes the vaccine to this social disease. It has seeped into pedagogical practices resulting in the devaluation and disgust with which queer studies is viewed in mainstream educational discussions. In advocating queer learning spaces, educational institutions run the risk of losing all categories, run the risk of leaving all subject matter ripe learning material, and inadvertently allow for provocative and resistant citizens to thrive. In linking this theoretical pondering to my opening example it makes perfect sense that Sara was told to pipe down. Keep it quiet. Don’t disturb your role because you unsettle mine.

Marches argues that queer visibility (and a pedagogy that is queer) doesn’t always have to lead to paranoia and containment; making sexuality visible in the class could allow for more honest conversations about it and the ways in which it gets regulated (through what is normal/acceptable and what is not).

Why I’m archiving it: I am always interested in essays on queer pedagogy and the bibliography for this article seems like it could point to even more sources. Plus, I appreciate her discussion of the queer who unsettles/disrupts as someone who needs to be encouraged (because of the productive, good troublemaking they do) instead of being contained or denied.

Where I found it: I got a mass email through the WMST-L listserv about a call for papers from the MP journal. I went to their website and randomly searched the archives.

4. Twitter for Academia a blog entry by dave on Academic Hack
In this entry, dave provides a list of various ways in which to use twitter in the classroom, including: class chatter, classroom community, get a sense of the world, track a word, track a conference, instant feedback, follow a professional, follow a famous person and more.

Why I’m archiving it: I plan to use twitter in my classes this year (and to teach about how to use it in my feminist pedagogies class) and am always looking for advice and ideas about it. Not only does dave offer some great suggestions, but his post has 46 comments worth of ideas too. Cool. This post should be very helpful. Here are a few that I particularly like:

Track a Word: Through Twitter you can “track” a word. This will subscribe you to any post which contains said word. So, for example a student could be interested in how a particular word is used. They can track the word, and see the varied phrases in which people use it. Or, you can track an event, a proper name (I track Derrida for example), a movie title, a store name see how many people a day tweet that they are at or on their way to a Starbucks. (To do this send the message “track Starbucks” to Twitter, rather than posting the update “track Starbucks” you will now receive all messages with the word “Starbucks.”)

Instant Feedback: Because Twitter is always on, and gets pushed to your cell phone if you set it up this way, it is a good way to get instant feedback. I was prepping for a lecture and wanted to know if students shared a particular movie reference, I asked via Twitter and got instant responses. Students can also use this when doing their classwork, trying to understand the material. Tweet: “I don’t understand what this reading has to do with New Media? any ideas?” Other students then respond. (This actually happened recently in a class of mine.)

Maximizing the Teachable Moment: It is often hard to teach in context, Twitter allows you to do this, but better yet, allows your students to do it for you (a way that others will hear perhaps). Recently someone in my Twitter circle made a marginal comment about a male friend who was dating an older woman. Another person in the same circle called him out this. Perfect, an in-context lesson on gender prejudice.

Public NotePad: Twitter is really good for sharing short inspirations, thoughts that just popped into your head. Not only are they recorded, because you can go back and look at them, but you can also get inspiration from others. This is really useful for any “creative” based class.

Where I found it: I’m pretty sure that I did a google search for twitter and academic use (or twitter teaching?). Sidenote: I used Academic Hack’s blogroll to find ProfHacker, which is great source on the Chronicle of Higher Education for teaching and technology.

Okay, I’m done now. Well, my list of links is not done, but I’m done. I find this entry to be a helpful exercise, one I might try in my classes. It’s more time-consuming than I imagined it would be (it took about 90 minutes, off and on, to write). I need to go rest my brain now and listen to some summer music:

Teaching (and learning) how to question

One key aspect of my own pedagogy of troublemaking is the belief that asking and exploring lots of questions is very important. I have devoted a lot of attention to the value of asking questions on this blog. I have written about Judith Butler and why, Paulo Freire and learning to question, Cynthia Enloe and curiosity, and Padgett Powell and the interrogative mood. Today I want to add another entry on this topic to my blog: Patricia A. Johnson and the art of genuine and playful questioning (a la Hans-Georg Gadamer and Maria Lugones).

While browsing through the stacks the other week, I happened across Philosophy, Feminism and Faith. Why did I pick it up? I can’t remember but it must have had something to do with my own religion and philosophy backgrounds (I have a BA in religion, a MA in theological studies and ethics, and my secondary discipline for my PhD was philosophy). By chance, I found an article by Patricia A. Johnson entitled, “Learning to Question.” Just glancing at the opening epigraphs, I knew that I would appreciate her perspective:

Questions always bring out the undetermined possibilities of a thing (Hans-Georg Gadamer, Truth and Method).

Interrogation itself becomes an act of critical intervention, fostering a fundamental attitude of vigilance rather than denial (bell hooks, Yearning).

In her essay, Johnson divides the essay up into three sections, each speaking to a different (and sometimes in conflict) community to which she belongs: trained philosophers, active feminists, and practitioners of the Quaker religion (Friends). In my brief engagement with Johnson’s work, I want to focus on these first two communities which Johnson discussions in relation to Gadamer and Lugones.

Gadamer and philosophy: The art of genuine questioning

Drawing upon Gadamer and his work in Truth and Method (which I think I own, but can’t find–sigh), Johnson argues for the value of learning how to ask genuine questions. Genuine questions are only possible when we recognize (and embrace?) our unknowingness and when we become “motivated by a sincere desire to know” (142). She distinguishes genuine questions from false ones which are disingenuous and not aimed at gaining new knowledge but at directing others towards one’s already established beliefs. I like how Johnson describes false questions in the context of teachers who ask their students questions–in class or on exams–that “do not allow our own presuppositions to be questioned” and that “clearly require that our own unexamined prejudices be accepted” (142). This is important because it is not only students who need to learn how to answer (and ask) genuine questions; teachers need to learn how to ask (and answer) genuine questions too. Johnson also distinguishes genuine questions from distorted ones that misdirect our explorations of ideas. Because distorted questions can get us off track, we need to make sure that we are constantly (and vigilantly) reflecting on why, how and when we ask questions (143). Finally, Johnson argues that genuine questioning requires that we consider the many sides of our question, the context in which it is asked and the communities in which we (the askers and answerers) live.

Lugones and feminism: Learning to question playfully

After discussing questioning in relation to philosophy, Johnson reflects on it in relation to her feminism. She argues that genuine questions also demand that we adopt a playful attitude (a la Lugones) and an “openness to the reconstruction of of one’s self and one’s world” (147). I really like how she brings in Lugones and her playful attitude. Lugones is a big influence on my own troublemaking work and I have written and thought a lot about the playful attitude in relation to virtue ethics. In fact, I just wrote about the playful attitude yesterday (here). When I have more energy and time I should revisit how Lugones fits in for Johnson and for my own teaching philosophy.

Here are a few succinct summaries that Johnson offers:

Philosophy first led me to question and to ask about the nature of questioning. Philosophy taught me to recognize that I must know when I do not know. I must distinguish genuine from false and distorted questions. I must recognize that addressing a question requires investigating the many sides of a question. I must ask questions in the context of community. Feminism showed me the complexity of communities and the importance of being a question (149).

In reference to being a question, Johnson writes:

to be a feminist in the Academy required one to learn how to raise questions that others preferred not to address and did not even see as questions. I have also learned that as a feminist, my simple presence is sometimes a question (144).

A few random thoughts:

I want to re-visit Gadamer’s Truth and Method, especially this section.
I wonder about this desire to know–what if we imagined our questions to be motivated by a desire to feel or to experience? While I think we can gain new understandings through our exploration of questions; we still can’t ever really know. Maybe unknowing is a good (as in stimulating, productive, creative) place to stay?
Being a question–what are the dangers of being a question? What are the differences, particularly in terms of our agency and how we are understand as subjects, between asking questions and being a question?