New pictures of Matilde in her album, and nine pictures taken yesterday in Santa Barbara as well in this album. Matilde looks unduly frightened here, but the look you see in my eyes is just joy at the cleanse being over.
Archive for June, 2005
I’m a big fan of local comedian, writer, and commentator Sandra Tsing Loh. Today’s paper contains a version of her recent commencement address at her alma mater, nearby Caltech. (Nearby, heck, it’s across the street from PCC). It’s very fine, it’s very funny, and it’s worth quoting this section:
I remembered the one thing that freed me, post-Caltech. And I believe it can free you too. The advice being not "Dare to dream" — every young person dares to dream. Frankly, it’s all they do all day! But many bright young people, under their A-student masks, also harbor a secret passion. And the key to releasing that last exotic bird to flight is not "Dare to dream" but, listen carefully: "Dare … to disappoint … your father." That’s right, Caltech graduates, freedom begins now! Diploma in hand, start today veering wildly off course! Have the fabulous graduation lunch, at the Ath or Burger Continental. Let your parents get a few bites in, and then boldly unveil your hideous summer plans! Skiing, snorkeling, belly-dancing, sleeping — maybe try out for "American Idol," why not?
And you Asian students? That goes double for you. You know who you are. Don’t make me come and get you. Don’t be shy. Look at me — I went into the liberal arts, which, for a Chinese father, is like pole-dancing.
Failing one’s elders is serious business and not currently in fashion. These are times of great anxiety, and great conventionality. I see very few black armbands here today.
Graduation is the beginning of the hero’s journey, which is a little bit Oedipal. Just a little. I’m not saying kill your father! But the hero’s journey does begin by leaving the safety of the village. (Bold emphases are all Hugo’s).
Oh amen, Sandra, amen and amen and amen. My classes in summer school are filled with the dutiful and the studious (I always get "better" students in the summer.) Over one half of all my students are East Asian, many are recent immigrants or are still on student visas. So many worry so much about their grades. How often I’ve wanted to give them the advice that Sandra Tsing Loh gave here, but feared being told (as I was in my post about moving away), that "You just don’t understand." Loh, of Chinese descendant, has the authority to say to Asian students what I cannot: the hero’s journey does begin by leaving the safety of the village.
May it be so with all the hard-working, the dutiful, the eager-to-please, the obedient of all ethnic groups and social classes: "dare to disappoint your parents." Best graduation advice for overachievers I’ve ever heard. Preach it, sister Sandra. This commencement address is going up on my office wall.
Before anything else, let it never be said that I do not brag about my very accomplished siblings. My sister Elizabeth is a company member with RJC (Reggae, Jazz, Contemporary) Dance company of Leeds; they’ve been on tour all over England (from Ilfracombe to Sunderland) this summer. A very nice review in last week’s Guardian, though I’m at a loss as to why our family’s nationality had to be mentioned. After all, we have US and UK passports. I am a proud eldest brother.
We had a very happy father’s day visit with my Pa in Santa Barbara yesterday. I may have some photos up later today.
I’ve been thinking about the comments below my "marriage" post from last Friday. (No, not the one where a Mr. or Ms. Snowglobe tells me I am very definitely going to be burning in hell. It’s always bad form for one believer to make presumptions about the state of another’s salvation, but given that this poor person is living in perpetual intellectual and spiritual winter, I can be understanding.) Rather, I’m thinking about something Mr. Bad said to me that’s been in my head for a day or two:
You… have a very inaccurate, uninformed and distorted view of healthy, normal masculinity. You instead are much more attuned to feminist and homosexual (i.e., gay and lesbian) issues than most people. There’s nothing wrong with that - in fact it’s necessary and informative - but the fact remains that IMO you’ve shown yourself to be clueless on the topic of normal, healthy masculinity.
Rather than respond in anger, I’ve been thinking about the ways in which this might be true. Am I, I wonder, really out of tune with "mainstream masculinity", whatever that is? From an academic standpoint, I’ve read a great deal of the still small canon of work on men’s studies. I’m familiar with everyone from Michael Kimmel to Warren Farrell to Robert Bly to Shepherd Bliss to Bill McCartney to R.W. Connell. From an activist standpoint, I’ve trained with groups like Men Can Stop Rape. From a volunteer standpoint, I’ve helped lead men’s retreats at places like All Saints Church and Fuller Seminary. And Lord knows, I’ve participated in enough group therapy (I was in two long-term men’s groups in my late teens and early twenties)!
But what does that teach me about "normal guys"? The academic in me wants to pretend that normalcy itself is an artificial construct. But part of me is reacting to Mr. Bad with the realization that my own life experiences are radically different than those of the majority of American men. Of course, anyone who does any academic work at all in gender studies is participating in a classically "feminine" activity, in that we presume that "normal" American men have no interest in the thoughtful analysis — and subsequent challenging — of traditional relationships among the sexes. Thus studying and teaching the subject become proof that I am not an authentic man, and thus excellent grounds for dismissing my conclusions.
It’s true, I wasn’t raised with "All-American" guy concerns. My father, whom I love with all my heart and with whom I have a very close relationship, was born in Austria and raised in England. (He knows the rules of cricket, not baseball.) He taught me to kick a round ball, not throw one; he taught me to appreciate the life of the mind and classical music. My father and I didn’t go to baseball games or learn how to barbecue together. We did go to Gilbert and Sullivan operettas and Jean Renoir retrospectives. (Despite his influence, however, I did develop some stereotypical American interests, chief among them an interest in college football that has only grown more passionate in the two decades since I first entered university.)
I have lots of male friends today. How normal are they? Most of my male friends are straight and married; a few are gay and a few are single. Most, but not all, are college educated white guys between 30-55. Half have children. About half are serious Christians, but others are agnostics, Unitarians, and students of Kabbalah. Most are liberal Democrats, but a few are solid Republicans. But there’s one thing every one of my close male friends has in common: we are all, to a man, quite concerned with the appearance and performance of our bodies.
Mr. Bad commented, with a grain of what I acknowledge is truth:
Almost every day you post something about yourself, often times shallow and/or silly, and usually relating to your body with a healthy dose of your feelings thrown in. For this reader, you come across on this blog as having a very strong "mirror, mirror on the wall…" princess approach to your life. So, considering that your professinal focus has been on women and homosexuals, I humbly suggest that perhaps that’s the basis for the model you’re projecting as the "typical" male you keep trying to offer up. And because of this, you’re missing the mark vis-a-vis typical men by miles and miles.
Yes, I have my shallow and silly qualities. But I’m convinced that Mr. Bad is wrong when he implies that an intense concern with one’s own appearance is not "typically male." Every one of my male friends works out. Many are marathoners and ultrarunners and triathletes. In that sense, we are a self-selecting group. We are perhaps a shade more neurotic about our bodies than your average Joes. (On Saturday, my two running buddies and I discussed the details of the cleanse I’ve been on for quite some time, as well as having a heartfelt discussion of the nagging problem of "lower-back fat deposits.") But Mr. Bad is wrong when he implies that most American men are utterly unconcerned with their appearance.
Here I don’t have to rely on anecdotal evidence. See here. See here. Note the proliferation of men’s fitness magazines which focus not on health but on appearance. I don’t think these magazines are raking in fortunes off a few unusual narcissists! Rather, the evidence is overwhelming that American men are rapidly becoming as concerned with body image as women have been. The fact that they are not yet as vocal about it — outside of the fitness community — does not mean that the anxiety isn’t growing to the point of being omnipresent! (See books like The Adonis Complex, the very subtitle of which makes clear the nature of the problem: The Secret Crisis of Male Body Obsession.)
Yes, I’m very concerned with my body’s appearance and athletic performance. Yes, I’m vain. Yes, I do something straight men aren’t supposed to do, which is talk about these concerns in a very public way. But the research (and abundant anecdotal evidence) suggest that my friends and I are far from alone. In blue-state cities it may be easier for men to discuss these anxieties and obsessions openly, but the evidence suggests that they are becoming universal. In that sense, men who are open about their "body image issues" are fully and completely "normal" — perhaps just more candid than some of their more truculent and inarticulate counterparts.
All in all, I think it’s counterproductive, even dangerous, to question the masculine credentials of those who do gender work. Given the rigid rules of American sexual culture, it’s all but certain than any man who does speak critically about male behavior will have his manhood questioned. Indeed, it’s a standard debating tactic, usually employed by those who oppose progressive agendas, to suggest that feminists and their allies are "out of touch", "elitists", who don’t "get it" or who aren’t "real women" or "real men." One of the hallmarks of the pro-feminist men’s movement has been a resistance to this false dyad of "real men" and "girly men" (which, after all, is more or less what Mr. Bad’s language implies). The authentic men’s movement sees masculinity as a continuum, not a fixed point.
Snowglobe questions my Christian faith; Mr. Bad questions my masculine credentials; some (not all) of my erstwhile allies are so irked by my post on marriage that they may be questioning my feminism. It’s one thing to dismiss our opponents’ arguments as poorly reasoned, another to engage in ad hominem attacks. At the same time, my own choice to bring in my own personal experience — a strategy and a technique I learned from feminism — makes these attacks all but inevitable, if disappointing.
The happy news of the day is that I’ve reached day ten of the cleanse. I can have soy beans (tofu), fruit, and nuts again. And just one more day to go! I managed to get in two very slow laps around the Rose Bowl this morning. Without any carbs in one’s system, it’s hard to get going.
Scraps of news:
My doctoral dissertation was on the role of the bishops of Durham and the archbishops of York in defending northern England from Scottish attack in the first half of the fourteenth century. I’ve always paid attention to the current occupants of these two sees, and was very interested to learn that a new archbishop of York was appointed today: Ugandan-born John Sentamu. Sentamu is England’s first black archbishop, and his seems a wise appointment. Nothing in his career suggests that he holds inflexibly traditional views on human sexuality akin to Anglican bishops in his native country. There’s quite a lot of discussion about Sentamu in the comments section of a post at Kendall Harmon’s blog. In any case, it’s very interesting news for those who love beautiful old York. (Though I’ve always felt, especially after doing research there, that York Minster is just too bloody big. Give me old Durham Cathedral any day.)
Camassia has a very good post on Zach, the young gay man sent by his parents against his will to a "Love in Action" camp. Even XRLQ gets on board with the "right side" on this issue. The good guys at Ex Gay Watch have more news on Love in Action here.
If you go to Jenell’s blog now, you can see pictures of Wesley and Oliver, her twin boys born Monday. The boys are still in a special care nursery, so pray please that Jenell and James can bring them home very soon.
Annika has invented a new religion.
Lucky White Girl has a humorous and poignant plea.
Visit the blog of an old high school and college friend of mine, Chris Leib. He’s quite an artist; here’s his self-portrait.
And happy news. As I write, busy paralegals are putting the finishing touches on all the documents for our new chinchilla re-homing charity. The official name: The Matilde Mission: Pet Homes for Ranch Chinchillas, Inc. (It’s based, of course, on the marvelous PHFR). We’ll have official non-profit status by the end of the month, and we’ll get the bank accounts set up as well. Lots of ranch chinchillas are going to be saved from pelting and have much, much happier lives.
Matilde will be soliciting donations from everyone soon.
A good discussion is emerging in the comments below yesterday’s post and that of the day before.
Several commenters below the post about "Scarlett" suggest I’m conflating "emotional maturity" with "willingness to marry". Guilty as charged, folks. Here’s where my evangelical Christianity trumps my feminism. I believe God calls all of us to one of two states: monogamous marriage or celibacy. Indeed, one of the reasons I am so strong a supporter of gay marriage is because I want to see the value of lifelong monogamy publicly exalted in the gay and lesbian community over all other alternatives!
Yes, I know, I’ve been divorced multiple times. But my failings — and the failings of those to whom I was married — do not undermine the inherent value of the institution. My divorces say nothing about marriage itself; they say a heck of a lot about me and the man I used to be.
I am eager and excited to marry again because I believe that God has called me to marriage. I believe He calls most people to marriage, except for a few to whom he gives the very special gift of celibacy. (Here’s where I think Protestantism falls down: too much anti-Catholic bias has left too many in the evangelical camp denying the very special value of celibacy that Paul celebrated.) But I am not merely eager to comply with God’s will. I believe monogamous marriage is a vehicle for personal growth and transformation unlike any other. I believe the experience of marriage changes us and deepens us and challenges us in ways that nothing else (cohabitation, polyamory, promiscuity) can.
Every older man in my life I deeply admire is either married or celibate. I do have friends who are still single in their thirties and forties. One or two are desperate to find the right woman (or man) and settle down. I encourage them and support them in that search. But I have other friends who are –for all appearances — blissful in being neither married nor chaste. Though I love these men as well, I see that almost every one of them is remarkably self-involved! In my experience, men who stay single too long simply don’t mature and develop as much as those who marry, even those who marry multiple times. God knew what he was talking about in Genesis 2:18.
My married male friends are not perfect husbands, by any stretch of the imagination. But I watch them push themselves and push themselves and respond to the challenge of monogamy, commitment, and in many cases, fatherhood. Many of them I’ve known since before they were wed and before they became daddies, and I can see the way in which they’ve deepened, softened, and developed. They know that only marriage reveals their deepest flaws, and only marriage provides sufficient incentive to overcome them. (One said to me several years ago: "Getting married was like pouring Miracle Grow on my defects of character." He was grateful, though pained, to have his sinfulness really exposed. He’s grown a lot since then.) Long-term monogamous relationships expose our weaknesses — but also provide the opportunity to overcome them. Marriage, done right, strips away a man’s selfishness and self-absorption like nothing else. Permanently directing all of his sexual energy to one person frees him to be a safe, loving man in the lives of those around him.
When should a man marry? Obviously, that depends on the person. We do mature at different rates. But if we wait until we are "settled" and "know who we are" we miss the point completely. Marriage isn’t for those who already know themselves, marriage teaches us who we are! We don’t get married after we become who we were called to be, we become who we were called to be through marriage!
Look, I know this post will infuriate many folks who support me on other issues. I am open to the possibility that marriage can be extended beyond the traditional man-woman dyad. But I am not open to the suggestion that marriage will ever become irrelevant or unnecessary. Indeed, I remain convinced that save for those happy few called to celibacy, marriage is the finest choice we can make for ourselves and the world around us.
It was a busy morning, and I had no time for a post.
I got a lengthy email from a woman named Scarlett today, and it revisits some of the issues from the first and second posts on "older men, younger women." Honestly, I get more e-mail about this topic than anything else I’ve posted on, save for men’s rights. Here’s part of what Scarlett had to say:
I’m 21. I have always been attracted to older men.
It seems that each time I start a new relationship with an older man, I am
looking for stability more than anything. A man who wants to settle down and is finished with his partying days. A highly intelligent, professional man that is financially secure. Someone who I could see myself raising children with.
Someone who would undoubtedly be able to provide for a family, both
emotionally and financially. Someone who has done a lot of living. I have
lived through a lot in my short life, and I have a very hard time relating (and this goes both ways) to ANY person (young OR old) that has had the perfect ‘white picket fence’ life. Naivety in a partner (or friend) is just not an option for me. Not to mention I’m simply just not physically attracted to men my own age. It’s always been that way for as long as I can remember. In third grade, puberty hit - hard and fast. I wasn’t afraid of cooties, I was too busy being attracted to my male teachers.
I’m not saying that I’m this extremely mature woman and I have nothing left to learn or that I’m more attractive or better than anyone else in any age group. I just want to have a family unlike the one that I knew while growing up.
I’ve tried dating younger guys and sex seemed to be the only thing that we
could productively do together. It just seems to be a fact in my life.
It’s not as if I’m wandering around, saying to myself "oh, I like old rich guys, they are like soooo hot" and have no real basis for feeling the way I do. I know what I want from life…
Women like Scarlett and Kate are a chief reason why I modified my position between the first and the second posts on the subject of older men and younger women. Obviously, age discrepant relationships do have their merits (as long as we aren’t talking about minors and adults), and Scarlett has made one of them clear right here: older men can offer a kind of stability and experience (financial, spiritual, emotional, sexual) that her peers generally cannot. We are quick to assume (armchair psychologists that we all are) that the Kates and Scarletts of the world are hungry for father figures. Surely that’s true for many young women who are drawn to older men, but it would be a crude misrepresentation to say that some sort of Electra complex drives them all.
Part of the problem that Scarlett points out is the "maturity gap", in which we see young women developing far more rapidly than their brothers. Surely we all recognize that we live in a culture that encourages far too many young men to live in a state of prolonged adolescence well into their twenties and thirties! But this is hardly biologically inevitable. Indeed, just a couple of generations ago, we saw young men demonstrate responsibility and commitment on a massive scale. At the end of World War Two, men of 19, 20, and 21 came home from war, married, and had children. They did so by the millions. The classic example, of course, is that of George H.W. Bush. A combat-tested Navy pilot in his teens, he was but 22 — and married — when our current president was born in 1946. Compare him to his son, who didn’t become a father until he was 35. I have no intention of disparaging our current president, but his "growth trajectory" (like my own, thanks) was slow indeed compared to that of an earlier generation of men! The relative affluence of our culture, and the widespread availability of sex outside of marriage have reduced the appeal of marriage and maturity for young men enormously.
(Parenthetical paragraph: whenever I talk about the baby boom in my gender classes,and talk about the readiness of so many millions of young veterans to marry and have children, the eyes of half the girls in the class light up. No wonder we all love World War Two movies; we love seeing a generation of very young men who were willing to make commitments - and keep them!)
Of course there are some fellows in their late teens and twenties today who very much want to get married. But a great many of them seem to be members of conservative religious groups. This might work out well for a young equally religious gal, but what about a Scarlett, who isn’t (apparently) a devout Christian waiting for her wedding night to surrender her virginity? I recall the plight of a young woman I knew at Fuller Seminary, who complained that all the young secular men she dated just wanted sex without strings and the Christian guys she knew all seemed eager to have a "pastor’s wife" who wouldn’t have sex until after marriage. My friend wanted a committed, monogamous relationship open to marriage, but one that would be sexual beforehand. (Yes, Virginia, folks at Fuller Seminary have pre-marital sex.) As a liberal Christian, my friend didn’t like the choices she had; neither libertines nor traditionalists had much appeal. (She was not attracted to older men, either, so she was in a bit of a pickle.)
Given this culture of young male immaturity (and to be fair, a great many young women today reject responsibility with enthusiasm), where else can a Scarlett look save to older men? I asked Kate to "wait" in my previous post on this subject, but Kate is 17. Scarlett is 21, and there’s a world of difference in those four years. While some older men she will encounter may have a sexually predatory agenda, and others may be looking for someone who won’t "call them on their crap", some may indeed be ready and willing to give her what she needs in every sense and receive from her what she has to offer. And what else can I do but wish her the best?
I’ve been alternating between putting up fairly obscure and fairly well-known poets lately, and it’s time to focus on the latter. This must be my fourth W.H. Auden poem in the past year, and likely, many readers know it. But I’ve always loved it, and in college remember debating the second stanza with friends.
The More Loving One
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
When I was twenty, I thought Auden wrong. Nothing, I believed, was worse than unrequited love. Years later, I learned he was quite right.
If you don’t want to read a self-absorbed muse about my body, scroll down. Still here? My fiancee and I are nearing the end of day eight of this "eleven-day cleanse" process. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, I am on nothing but green vegetables and water. I am allowed to saute or steam these vegetables, and am allowed small amounts of olive oil and seasonings. Friday and Saturday, I can go back to the millet, quinoa, and fruit. Sunday, I’m done.
The last couple of days have been easier than I had imagined. Water fills me up, and frankly, if I weren’t worried about losing energy completely, I wouldn’t remember to eat. (The last thing my students need is me fainting tomorrow in the middle of lecture, however!) I’ve got green beans and broccoli coming up for dinner.
I’ve lost a few pounds, which is not unexpected and not unwelcome. I’m still a good ten to twelve pounds above the weight I’d like to be. My goal is somewhere around 175, a weight at which I can still have muscle definition but can also be reasonably fast. It’s a weight I haven’t been at since, oh, perhaps 2000. Too many pasta dishes, too many chocolate chip cookies, too many "third helpings" have taken their toll these last couple of years. Oh, and there’s that pesky little fact that my metabolism doesn’t function at 38 the way it did a decade or so ago.
Ah, vanity and self-absorption… thy name is Hugo Benedict Schwyzer. Well, at least I promise not to post pictures! And from an Anabaptist standpoint, restricting food intake, unlike my unfortunate shopping habit, isn’t wasteful of money and resources!
Also noted:
I am Google’s number three result for choice 4 men, number two for "hot teachers", the number five result for older men, younger women, number seven for gay history classes, and, most importantly, number two for chinchilla coats. In the last half hour, folks have come here with those queries.
And last but by no means least, happy news: Jenell Paris, who writes better prose than anyone else in the blogosphere (God, how I envy her) gave birth Monday to healthy twin boys: Oliver William and Wesley James. (I’m dying to know if the former is named for Cromwell and the latter named for the great Methodist and his hymn-writin’ brother — or the Cary Elwes character in Princess Bride). If you never read Jenell’s blog, read her great CT article from last year: When Mother’s Day is Hard. Read it, cry, and then rejoice that she and her husband have two beautiful ("Monday’s child is fair of face") and healthy sons today.
Kirsty wrote below the post on friendship:
I used to be one of the girls whose closest friends were all boys, and remained so until a few years ago. I think I was very much in the "not a girl" category for a while and yep, it can sting.
Then I lost some weight. Actually, rather a lot of weight - about 40 pounds. Suddenly I found myself in "very definitely a girl" territory, and all my male acquaintances started hitting on me. This is particularly weird because I’m married, and most of these guys have met my husband. All the new guys I was meeting seemed to be incapable of even thinking of me as a possible friend - the usual pattern in meet and discover you have things in common, become kind of friendly, hang out a bit, at some point guy gets drunk and makes some kind of pass, I remind him that I’m married and not available, and then he gets upset and refuses to talk to me any more. Either that or coworkers, people I meet at gigs etc simply stop talking to me as soon as they realise I’m married. The "honorary guy" option no longer seems to be available to me, which sucks because I LIKE men and enjoy their company. And honestly, I never had this problem when I was overweight.
Has anyone else encountered this? It honestly never even occurred to me beforehand that losing weight would mean losing my guy friends. I miss them, but I’m also kind of annoyed with them for being such idiots. Calling them on it does NOT go well.
I’m reminded of the story of a woman I know very well. "Ethel" went to graduate school in the 1960s, and was the only female in her particular doctoral program. She was young and slender and considered quite attractive. She was, she says, quite frustrated with the way she was treated so differently by both her fellow graduate students and her academic mentors. Men held chairs out for her in seminars; Ethel was called "Miss ____" by her first adviser, who called his male students by their first names. She wasn’t overtly harassed, but she was often the subject of "penetrating gazes" and attention that was unwanted.
Then Ethel gained weight. Eventually, she gained lots of weight. It wasn’t a conscious strategy, she says; it was more a function of the lifestyle she was leading (lots of studying, little exercise, poor eating habits). As the pounds came on, she noticed that the men in her program began to relax around her. The more her sexuality was hidden by her weight, the more her colleagues and mentors were able to see her as a real person. She began to be invited to join "the guys" for coffee in groups, rather than being asked out on dates. Ethel’s advisers seemed more comfortable with her, and she began to hear just her first name rather than "Miss". It was a hard trade-off, but her commitment to the life of the mind was greater than her commitment to her body project. She has never lost the weight, and to this day has dear friends and colleagues of both sexes.
I wish I could say her experience was unique. I saw the same thing happen to a woman in my grad program at UCLA in the early ’90s. Deanna didn’t look like the rest of her fellow medievalists (oh, what a nerdy bunch we were); she bore a notable resemblance to the actress Phoebe Cates. Deanna was very talented, with a real interest in medieval book production. She was a bit shy, but given that most of her fellow grad students were introverts, that didn’t make her unusual. But I remember her telling me one day how upset she was that one of the other guys in her chosen sub-field (paleography), had suddenly stopped talking to her about half-way through the year. She and "Dan" had studied together regularly for months, but now, he wasn’t available. Deanna didn’t know what she had done, so I, being the busy-body that I am, went and asked Dan. He told me that his wife (he was a newlywed) had met Deanna at a medieval colloquium and asked him never to be alone with her again.
According to Dan, his wife had no problem with two other female paleographers who were considered "less attractive". "She’s scared I’ll be attracted to Deanna", he said. "Are you?" "Yes, of course", he said. "But I’m not going to be unfaithful to my wife just because I think Deanna’s beautiful." I don’t think I had much in the way of good advice for Dan, his wife, or Deanna. Dan wasn’t at fault for being attracted to Deanna (an attraction I am assured he never even vocalized, much less acted on), and Deanna was not at fault for being a 5′11" brunette who looked more like a Hollywood starlet than the better-than-average medievalist she was. I’m not at all sure Dan’s wife was "at fault" either. Though I didn’t respect it at the time, I have more sympathy for his wife’s position now. She didn’t fear her husband having an affair with Deanna as much as she feared being compared to her — something that she thought would be inevitable if Dan and Deanna continued to work closely together.
Deanna got her M.A., dropped out of the PH.D. program, and went to law school. I haven’t seen her in thirteen years. But I remember that when she told us she was leaving for McGeorge or Hastings or wherever it was, several of the guys in the program were noticeably disappointed and more than one woman medievalist expressed open relief. Deanna was never seductive; she tended to wear sweatshirts and peasant skirts (back when the latter weren’t much in style). She never wore make-up. But though she wasn’t (to my knowledge) harrassed, she had a very hard time making good friends. The married men had to think of their wives, the single men were enchanted by her, and her female colleagues tended to resent her. None of the women were overtly rude (again, as far as I know), but no one was as welcoming as they would have been to a plainer gal with Deanna’s same intelligence and engaging personality.
As a man, I have to ask: how do I play into this? What can men do? It’s not right to dismiss all of this as a "woman’s issue", and make some cheap remark about female jealousy and cattiness. We have to find ways to deal with women we find attractive without either "hitting on them" or withdrawing from them. It’s hardly impossible! Sexual attraction is normal and natural and universal — but it’s not a mandate for action. We need to see how our own actions often exacerbate women’s competitiveness with other women. Women have been trained to be good students of male behavior, after all; when they see men responding in fairly obvious ways to attractive women, they draw understandable conclusions. Men can help by understanding that sexual attraction is not incompatible with platonic friendship, as long as excellent boundaries are in place and firmly maintained.
Surrendering one’s sexuality and one’s femininity is too high an admission price to pay for strong friendships with either other women or with men.
I’m mulling a reply to this comment from Kirsty on the subject of appearance and mixed-sex friendship. But with class in twenty-five minutes, it will have to wait.
Tony Vila and I have been having a bit of a disagreement about subjective grading (or "curved" grading) in the comments section below this post. I wanted to clarify my grading policy (which might be helpful for students who read this blog).
Yes, I do grade students in comparison with one another. This is done most simply with the multiple-choice quizzes I give in my Western Civ classes (I don’t give such quizzes in the gender studies courses). I take the highest grade on the quiz, whatever it may be, and declare that to be the A. I simply go down from there in 10% increments. My quizzes have 25 questions; usually the highest grade is a perfect score or near that. If the highest score is low (it’s been as low as 17 out of 25) I again apply my 10% rule. It’s not a perfect curve, because while someone is guaranteed an A, no one is guaranteed an F. After all, if the high score is 25 and the low score is 21, 21 is 84% of 25. It’s never happened, but if it should, everyone would receive As and Bs. The same thing would happen if the high score was 10 and the low score was 8. (Also something that hasn’t happened in over a decade of teaching this way.)
With essays, I continue to compare students to each other. I always read midterms and papers twice: the first time to select the best essays in the class, the second time, to rank all of the others relative to those best essays. Grades are assigned accordingly, but again, no one is guaranteed a failing grade — even if there is always at least one A. Of course, it’s conceivable that my best paper could be of such poor quality that I couldn’t justify giving it an A. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened to me in my years of teaching. (Admittedly, I’ve been close: I’ve had a couple of sections where I’ve given only one A in a class of more than thirty students, but those occasions have been rare.)
Philosophically, I think grades serve to rank students relative to one another. This ensures that they aren’t trying to meet what may be my unrealistic standards, but are instead striving to match what their classmates — who take the same exams under the same conditions — have already proved possible to achieve.
I’ll surely catch some flak for this, but my grading policy is linked to, of all things, my experience running. In 1999-2000, I was at my fastest as a runner. I did lots of marathons and 10Ks. I remember that in October ‘99, I ran my personal best time in a huge 10K on the Westside (38:49, for those who care). I finished 27th male overall in a highly competitive field. No medal for me. Six months later, I ran in a much smaller 10K at the Rose Bowl — and to my utter amazement, won the damn race despite running a 40:59, more than two minutes slower than my PR time. I got a nice little medal and a ribbon, and even better, the sweet feel of tape hitting my chest! (It was a small 10K, nothing fancy, and to be fair, there were only about forty or fifty people in the whole race.) Whether or not I got a medal was contingent on two things: my performance, and the performance of the others who showed up that day. I tell my students that my grading policy is similar, and that their results will be linked to the results of their classmates. In this way, I encourage them not to do the "bare minimum", but to do the absolute maximum because surely some of the "competition" is willing to do just that. I had this standard in place before 1999, of course, but these experiences on road courses helped clarify what I hope is the essential justice of the policy!
These students will apply for transfer, where their applications will be considered as part of a pool and where they will be analyzed subjectively. They will apply for jobs where they will be directly compared to other candidates. In virtually every other area of American public life, success is determined both by one’s own performance and the performance of those around you. It seems reasonable and fair and right to apply those same standards in a college environment.
I missed this past Sunday’s Gay Pride Parade in West Hollywood. No, I didn’t boycott because Paris Hilton and her ma were grand marshals. After a late night out the evening before, my beloved and I needed a good long sleep in , so long that we played hooky from church as well.
For at least a decade (and some folks say longer), All Saints Church has joined other churches from around the Los Angeles diocese in sending a delegation of adults and youth to march in the parade. Because of other commitments, I’ve only had the opportunity to participate once with the All Saints youth, about four or five years ago. I recall we were a pretty good-sized and happy bunch (I had a rainbow-esque t-shirt), but regret that I could not have been part of the Episcopal delegation two years ago that was named "best marching unit" in the entire parade!
Yesterday afternoon, I chatted on the phone with the father of one of our All Saints kids. He wasn’t happy that our church (and indeed, the entire diocese) encouraged teens to march in a gay pride parade. He’s not the first parent from whom I’ve heard this concern. (Back in 2001, I remember one very angry quarrel between two divorced parents with joint custody over this issue. Mom wanted her daughter to be able to go and march, Dad was adamantly opposed, and All Saints was briefly caught in the middle. Wisely, the powers that were at church didn’t choose sides, and the child ended up saying she’d rather not go if it was going to cause such dissension). It ought to be noted that we bus the kids over as a group, and stay with them at all times. Our kids are not being brought to a gay pride parade for any reason other than to witness to the great welcome that the Episcopal Church in Los Angeles has for all gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered and questioning folks. Yes, our kids will see some of the "outrageousness" that traditionally accompanies these celebrations. But as any one who has ever been to a gay pride parade can tell you, the television coverage of these events vastly over-emphasizes the flagrantly sexual aspects. What has always struck me about these parades (I went to some in San Francisco when I was an undergrad) is the immense diversity of not only the queer community, but also of the straight people who are willing to make a public stand and say "We love you and affirm you, not as we wish you were, but as you are right now!"
Every gay pride parade usually attracts a small counter-protest, often (but not always) from the Fred Phelps wing of the faith. (Warning: offensive content on the link.) One reason that it’s so crucial that Christians of all ages march in the parade is that if we don’t, the only overt Christian presence will be that of the protesters. Few things are more important than convincing the gay and lesbian community that there are many, many Christians who love them as they are. It’s vital that folks see us having our pre-march eucharist; vital that they see the church banners; vital that they know that there are millions who follow Christ but who do not see living a sexually active life as a gay or lesbian person as inherently incompatible with obedience to Him.
It’s also important that the gay community see not just our adults marching but our teens as well. When I marched a few years ago, none of the kids I marched with (to my knowledge) were GLBTQ. They were committed to representing their church and to interacting with other parade participants, especially youth from other Episcopal parishes. So many GLBTQ folk have been hurt by the charge that they are seeking to "corrupt or convert" young people to homosexuality! When we send our youth into the streets (as part of a chaperoned group, of course) we send the message that we are not afraid for our young people. We are not irresponsible or naive; we are unafraid because we have no reason to fear.
The idea that any of our children could be "turned gay" is, after all,ludicrous. I was raised, as I’ve written before, around gay men and lesbians. When I was in high school, I did a lot of drama productions — and was more or less raised by a series of wonderful gay male mentors. But Lord, I knew from the moment puberty began that I liked girls! Seeing men and women together in same-sex couples was no match for my biology. I recognize that many kids do question their sexual identity in adolescence. That’s appropriate and normal. Most of those who question will end up identifying as "straight"; some as bisexual, some as gay or lesbian. But I can’t believe that exposure to an environment that is loving and accepting of GLBT people is sufficient to transform a young person’s sexual identity. It may help them acknowledge what is already present, but I doubt it can create it.
I’ve known several parents who would not allow their kids to participate. I always respect a parent’s decision, even when I think their fears are groundless. I’ve also run into parents whose political and theological positions mean that they oppose their child participating. Yes, even at liberal All Saints, we have parents with a wide range of views. I’m glad of that diversity, even as I’m disappointed when their kids miss out on a wonderful opportunity to spread a message of Christian love and inclusion.
I’m sorry I’ve missed the last couple of marches, and resolve to try and chaperone things come 2006.
I’ve been thinking about single-sex education quite a bit since the subject came up in the comments below this post from last Monday.
I’ve always been a proponent of single-sex education, especially for young women. I come by this naturally. My mother graduated from Vassar in the late 1950s, when it was still an all-women’s college. She loved her experience there, and often told her children how thrilling and liberating it was to be in a single-sex environment. As an alumna, she was devastated when Vassar went coed in the late 1960s. She came to terms with this a few years later, after meeting (at an alumni event) several young men who had graduated from Vassar. She was struck by the passionate pro-feminism of these young men, and touched by their stories of being male "pioneers". Clearly, being exposed to a woman-dominated campus had done these fellows a world of good! (For the record, Vassar was the only other school I applied to for college; had Berkeley not been dramatically less expensive, I might have spent my college years in Poughkeepsie.)
As a youth leader, I interact with many girls who attend various single-sex private schools around the L.A. basin. At church, we have a particularly close connection to the marvelous Westridge School. At All Saints, I’ve worked with literally dozens of young women who attended Westridge; I’ve also worked with girls who attend various local Catholic single-sex schools: Immaculate Heart , Sacred Heart, Alverno, and so forth. (You’d be amazed how many parents send their daughters to Catholic schools but worship at All Saints.) I’ve had ample opportunity to observe the benefits of single-sex education on these girls. Though anecdotes are just that, anecdotes, my experience as a youth leader has been similar to what others report: that single-sex education generally has an immensely positive impact on young women. In general, among the youth I work with, the girls who attend all-girls schools show greater self-confidence than those girls who attend private or public co-ed institutions. In particular, among my kids, the girls who go to all-female institutions are likely to be quicker to speak up in discussions, and more likely to "stick to their guns" if that discussion gets heated.
As a college professor, I’ve had dozens of alumnae of these same institutions in my classes. (Yes, "Westridge girls" go to community colleges.) So often, they are among my very best students! I’m particularly struck by how many graduates of all-girls schools end up in my Women’s History class, and how so many of them are articulate defenders of a feminist agenda. Indeed, when I ask my students (and I ask every semester as a journal topic) how many of them would describe themselves as feminists, the percentage who graduated from all-girls schools who say "Yes!" or even "Hell, yes, I’m a feminist" is much higher than their classmates who attended public, coed schools. To be fair, I’ve run into a few gals who went to all-girls schools and regretted the experience. But they are a distinct minority.
We don’t have any local non-Catholic all-boys secondary schools. (Heck, how many non-sectarian all-male secondary schools are there anywhere in the country?) I have worked (at All Saints and the college) with fellows who went to Cathedral and St. Francis, both all-male. I’ve been impressed by these young men as well, though the differences in confidence between graduates of all male schools and male graduates of co-ed schools are, in my experience, not nearly as obvious. Still, I do wish we had more all-boys schools. Men’s rights advocates are right that young men don’t have these options. The question is, of course, whether young men and young women have the same desire for a single-sex educational experience!
From a pro-feminist standpoint, I see every reason to endorse single-sex education for both young men and young women. That does not mean that it’s the right choice for every child, of course. (Though I think it quite possible that I would want to send my kid to a single-sex school, I haven’t met my future kids yet! One thing I’ve figured out as a teacher and a youth worker is that single-sex education, like so many other things, will impact different children differently. My wife and I will make the call about single-sex schools when we actually know the child involved). From a pro-feminist standpoint, my concern is to help young women develop their intellectual, emotional, artistic and athletic gifts. For any number of reasons, I think many young women may have an easier time developing those gifts when young men aren’t around. That doesn’t mean "boys are bad", it simply means that a same-sex environment provides a uniquely safe atmosphere in which young women can develop themselves without worrying about the kind of social pressures created by the presence of men.
Some feminists are concerned that young women who come out of single-sex schools will be ill-equipped to deal with mixed-sex environments. But the record doesn’t bear this out. All one has to do is scan the lists of alumnae of the likes of Smith and Wellesley to see an extraordinary number of very successful women who have had no trouble whatsoever competing with men. (One thinks first of Hillary Clinton.) According to this website at wonderful Hollins College:
Women’s college graduates make up only 2% of the college-educated population, yet:
- One-third of the women board members of the Fortune 1000 companies are women’s college graduates.
- Women’s college graduates are twice as likely to earn Ph.D.s and a higher percentage go on to study in the sciences and attend medical school.
- Of Business Week’s 50 highest ranking women in corporate America, 30 percent are women’s college graduates.
- Of 61 women members of Congress, 20% attended women’s colleges.
Yes, I’m aware that social class may have a small bearing on these numbers. But given the enormous outreach that many women’s colleges have done to less affluent high schools and to communities of color, I’m not prepared to believe that class is a particularly important factor here.
I regularly transfer young women, often first-generation college students, to the two non-sectarian women’s colleges in California: Mills and Scripps. (I think the admissions offices at both campuses have dozens of letters of rec from me in their files.) Both, I am happy to say, give relatively generous financial aid packages. My single brightest woman student this past year, Belle, is going to Mills in the fall, and I couldn’t be happier or prouder. She’s taken both my "women’s" and "men’s" studies courses, and is a bright, gutsy thoughtful, and tremendously articulate person. Belle turned down USC and Berkeley for Mills, and given her attributes and her interests, I’m convinced she made the right decision.
By the way, DJW talked about the one all-male college that really interested me when I was in high school: Deep Springs. I never applied because I would never have been accepted (I was a very poor math student), but it’s one of those places that I’ve often fantasized about. If I have a very bright and capable son, I’d be thrilled if he showed an interest in this most unusual school.
Welcome to any readers coming from Inside Higher Ed, which has kindly linked to my post about the rising age of new hires. I have to add one note to that post: in a way, I’ve benefited from being the youngest member of the department for so long. Folks here — even those hired after me with considerably less seniority — still think of me as the "youngster". Less than two years away from forty, that’s rather flattering. I suppose I might even be a teeny bit jealous if the division was suddenly flooded by articulate, passionate professors under thirty and on the tenure-track. But leaving aside that less than admirable sentiment, I think students would benefit so much if we did hire some "younger guns".
I’ve got my first summer school class in fifteen minutes. Not much time to post. I will get in a longer post later today, I hope. For now, let me simply note that Dwight Yoakam was his usual splendid self on Saturday night at the House of Blues, and I’m now a big fan of his opening act: Mike Stinson, who writes and sings some terrific songs.
And day six of the "cleanse" is upon us, and after a sluggish weekend, I’m feeling much more energetic. The real test will come Tuesday through Thursday, when I go three straight days on nothing but water and organic greens.
The title of this post is a quote from Walter Wink, the immensely important progressive theologian most famous for his work on the "powers" (of the sort that Paul refers to at the end of Romans 8.)
From 2001-2003, I had a wonderful spiritual director named Don. Don is a retired Presbyterian minister, who, in his great wisdom, has ended up worshipping at All Saints Episcopal Church. The first time I met with him for spiritual direction, I saw that Wink quote framed on his desk and I exclaimed — "God, Don, that’s so right!" He laughed and said that I wasn’t the first person he’d worked with to have that reaction. Today, I have those words on the wall of my office, where I can glance up from my grading (or from meeting with a student) and reflect upon them.
I’ve been thinking about that quote this morning because of the comments below my previous post. I wrote of hoping that a student who had flagrantly plagiarized would have her misdeeds made known to the letter carrier who delivered her grade card. Yes, I confess it: I want those students who plagiarize to not only suffer the F, but on some level, I do want them to feel private guilt — and perhaps, public shame. Peter and Mythago both assured me (the former rather forcefully) that my attitude was decidedly "unChristian." (It’s a charge I’ve had thrown at me a lot. I note it tends to come most often not from fellow believers, but from non-Christians.) So I’ve been thinking about the Wink quote and what it means to be "unChristian" this morning.
When I accepted Christ as my lord and savior, I knew that I was a sinner in grave need of redemption. I was in a state of spiritual and psychological despair. I was an unpleasant person; dishonest and deceitful and almost pathologically self-centered. Most of my compassion was for show, and my teaching was more about getting validation from my students than about making a positive impact upon their lives.
In the years that I’ve been "walking" as a Christian, I’ve found the power to overcome many, many old sinful behaviors. I’ve become much more generous with money, though there is still room to grow. I’ve become more patient. I’ve begun to give lots of time and energy to volunteering. I’ve worked to the point where I can have a loving, committed, radically honest relationship with one woman who is the recipient of all of my romantic and sexual energy. Heck, I’ve even overcome my infamous "potty mouth". It’s a rare occasion when any student or friend will hear me swear in anger these days! I give credit for all these things to Christ.
But the fact that I have been redeemed does not mean that I am without inner darkness! Stanley Hauerwas (of course, my favorite living theologian) often describes himself as (I’m paraphrasing) a "violent man trying to become a peaceful one." Despite what some enthusiasts like to say, regeneration is rarely instant in every area of one’s life! God, we know from Scripture, sometimes works fast: think of the instant conversion of Paul on the road to Damascus. More often, He works slow: think of the complex, painful, road that David walks. Inner darkness remains after conversion and repentance, as much as Christians of all theological stripes frequently like to deny it.
Sometimes, I think I shouldn’t call myself a Christian. Sometimes, I think it would make more sense to say that I am "someone who is trying very hard to become what Christ is calling him to be, and frequently finding that process to be darned difficult!" God took away my despair in one instant at the moment of my conversion, and all praise to Him, it’s never come back. But you know, God didn’t take my narcissism, my self-importance, my little temper, or my messy housekeeping (ask my students about the condition of my office.) Lord knows, I’ve turned these sins over to Him countless times. I’ve grown and made progress — and then slipped again. The darkness is still there, at least in those areas.
So yes, it was petty and mean-spirited of me to want a plagiarizer to be shamed by her letter carrier. I’m not proud of it. I ought not to take plagiarism as personally as I do. My reactions fell short of the mark. I’ve learned, nevertheless, that falling short of the mark is part and parcel of the experience of this journey of walking in Christ. The cycle of sin, repentance, and forgiveness hasn’t ended in my life, and frankly, it hasn’t ended in the lives of any Christians whom I know and admire. But it’s vital that in our personal lives and in the blogosphere we be open about our petty cruelties and other sins! I love those bloggers who are willing to lay themselves out there and say, "Yes, I screwed up, here’s how — and here’s how I ought to have behaved." I love my fellow Christians who are honest about that "inner darkness of the redeemed", even if that candor leaves them wide open to the charge of "hypocrite!" coming from someone who doesn’t share our faith.
Yes, I’m a hypocrite. No, I’m not proud of it. Yes, Jesus is my savior; yes, He transformed my life, no, all of my sinful nature was not changed in an instant. Somedays it seems easy to be a Christian; my walk and my talk seem to blend almost effortlessly. Other days, I feel like a complete fraud. The wisest men and women I’ve ever met have told me that that will be what it is to walk the Christian walk, and I trust them. But that inner darkness is still there, and oh my goodness, how easily it can slip out into the light!
Maybe this is why I love country music so much. I need to hear Dwight tonight.
O frabjous day! I am done with my grading. Caught only one plagiarizer this afternoon, a gal who had chosen to cut and paste — without citation — large excerpts from the Wikipedia entry on World War One into her paper. The little dear gave me a grade card, and so as of this afternoon, news of her F is speeding its way to her home. I explained the reasons for the F on the card itself, and am not sorry that the card is public. Is it unpleasant of me to hope that the postal carrier reads it?
Query for my fellow graders out there: what is the purpose of the "D" grade in the American system? I see the usefulness of the A,B,C, and F grades, but not the D. It’s not a passing grade, so why have anything other than an F below a C? I find I almost never, ever give Ds, except in cases where students forget to turn in a vital piece of work. I give plenty of the other four options. I ran the numbers for fun, and here’s my spring semester 2005 grading distribution (hey, I’ve got tenure, why not?) I’d love to encourage my colleagues out there to do the same.
A = 16%
B = 39%
C = 36%
D = >1%
F = 8%
I didn’t include the few incompletes and the even fewer Credit/No Credit students. The college average, by the way, is 24% As, so while I’ve gotten easier over the years (in the past, it was about 10%), I’m still in fairly good shape. I do realize that I give slightly more Bs than Cs these days as well, which means that well over half my students are technically "above average." Sigh. I guess I’m playing a part in rampant grade inflation, but I’m a long way away from where Harvard is.
It will be a happy weekend, and a brief opportunity to celebrate the end of the semester before the coming of the summer session (on Monday.) My sweet gal bought tickets to the Dwight Yoakam concert at the House of Blues tomorrow night, so I am very excited. Next to Steve Earle, there’s no man in American music whom I enjoy listening to as much as Dwight. I’ll be a very happy little cowpoke this weekend.
UPDATE: I checked online, and stand corrected. A D at Pasadena City College is described as a "passing grade, but less than satisfactory." Where it gets confusing is that the units from a course in which a D grade is earned cannot be applied towards an associate’s degree or towards transfer credits to the state university systems. So you can pass the course with a D but can’t use it to "pass on" anywhere else!
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