Shop Talk

Dear student who, having earned a 97 on her research paper, asked me how to improve her grade,

Come, walk to my office with me after class. Close the door. Let me share a secret with you. You didn't fail in three small ways that subtracted three points from perfection. You began with nothing, a blank page and a blank grade, and skyrocketed from 0 to 97. That's great, and by 'great' I could also have said excellent, wonderful, or fantastic; it's all the same thing. A 97 is a high A, better than 95 (mid-A), better than the noncomittal 91 or 92 (A/A-), and approaching the occasional undergraduate magnificence that earns 100. In all honesty, it could have been a 96 or a 98; 96, 97, and 98 are interchangeable.

I know you wish for greater precision -- that there were three little things your paper did wrong that, if repaired, would ensure a perfect grade. If you're a student like I was, you pitch your tent with the three frowning points instead of with the ninety seven smiling ones. I don't mean to frustrate you, but you could embrace this situation and learn from it in ways far beyond what the assignment intended. I'm sure you've already experienced the impossibility of precision and perfection in prayer, friendship and love. You ask one thing and hear a different answer, want one thing and get another, strive for crystal clear communication and settle for loving intentions. I'm only telling you this because we're behind closed doors, but the truth is that grading is the same way. We'd probably do better to just say pass-fail, or check minus-check-check plus. It doesn't make much sense to divide up quality into a hundred portions, or into numbers or letters. I had to pick a number so I did, but the simple truth about your work is that it's very super great.

Maybe you'll be ready for this day even sooner than I will (I'm still pissed at the graduate school prof who promised me publication and but gave me an A- and, without my permission, gave my draft to someone else to incorporate into their article that would be published in his book instead of mine.) I think we need to do just the opposite of what Jesus would do. Jesus would leave the 99 to pursue the 1. We need to stay with the 97 and release the 3. Tie little strings to point 98, point 99, and point 100 and watch them float away like balloons. And then, later and only when we really feel we're ready, we could tie strings to each of the 97 points and let them float away, too. What would we be left with? No teacher's judgment, no fear of failure -- just our own lovely writing.

Peace,
Dr. Paris

If you could invite a woman speaker to address the students at your Christian college, who would you invite? She can be Christian or not, famous or not, expensive or not. (And you wouldn't need to base her honorarium on her marital or parenting status, b/c that idea sure had a lot of problems...)

I'm hatching a lectureship plot...not sure if it will work out or not, but I'm brainstorming a list of wonderful women speakers that will make the idea that much more attractive. This list could keep us going at least until 2020!

My list so far...
Jo Kadlecek
Anne Lamott
Ivy George
Maggi Dawn
Kathleen Norris
Lisa McMinn
Margaret Kim Peterson
Heidi Neumark
Deb Reinstra
Joan Chittister
Mary Ellen Ashcroft
Barbara Brown Taylor
Marla Frederick
Lauren Winner
Mary Karr
Janet Hagberg
author of Gilead -MaryAnne?

An open letter from Alice Walker, about why she supports Obama. Some difficult stories, and beautiful truth, about our nation's history and future. And, to this liberal white woman's ears, some thoughtful challenges for liberal white women.

Lessons

My four-year-old niece nearly died yesterday. It was the worst day in the whole world but then it ended well. An extremely rare virus attacked her heart, but her will to live attacked back with greater strength.

All day I cried and worried and my insides felt clammy and empty. I did teach my classes, however, and my husband suggested I ask my class to pray for her. I hesitated, because I would probably start crying while I prayed, and I didn't think I'd be able to give the class an update if it were bad. But of course I'd do anything -- I'd teach the class naked -- if it would help. The real reason I didn't ask for prayer is because I no longer believe in prayer, at least that kind. It's an insult to her mom and dad to believe that God would listen to 30, 300, or 3000 strangers better than God would listen to one praying parent. It's an insult to her little life to believe that God would withhold care until God receives correct petitions from someone else. The class was Intro to Cultural Anthropology, and our textbook teaches that such prayer meets the definition of magic, just what we western Christians have cursed indigenous people to hell for practicing. Magic is using ritual to manipulate the behavior of a distant deity. How often do we mistake prayer for magic?

I prayed, of course, I prayed all day. I beseeched, begged, bargained, and bawled. I prayed because God loves me and I talk to God whenever I want to. I prayed because I believe it generates good will and social support in my relationships. I prayed because I had to. But I didn't pray because I thought it would force God's hand.

Later that evening while announcing my anti-magic prayer theology to my husband, my voice sounded a little bit angry and a lot tired. Perhaps the only good thing about years-long maternal fatigue is that it helps me let go. There's just no spare energy to hang on to things. I've hated prayer because God didn't answer my most desperate prayer, the one to save my own children. In fact, this niece was born just days after my triplets died. But in praying for her, I realized my love for her needs to be pure -- always, only, all for her -- not muddied with my existential problems. Still, I couldn't help it; peering over the precipice of child loss brought it all back for me. The beautiful thing was that her heart struggling for its life inspired mine to do the same, and my greedy grief released one more bit of all it holds. Love teaches me to hold tight while I may. Loss teaches me to let go when I must. And prayer is precious, though I can't say exactly why.

I don't know why women aren't better represented...they had the same opportunity to participate as the men did

I've heard many times that it's difficult to include women and minorities in publishing, hiring, speaking, or other public service endeavors because they decline opportunities. On the one hand, women and minorities are tokenized and overworked, asked to be 'the one' on every committee or group project. On the other hand, they are uninvited and left out due to old white boy's networks, etc. Perhaps both have some grain of truth, but it's simply not good enough to say, "Well, we put out the call for papers, or the job announcement, and no women or minorities showed up. They must not be interested."

One presentation at the gender conference last weekend said the glass ceiling isn't the best metaphor for women's experience in academic leadership - a labyrinth is better. Women negotiate the labyrinth differently according to personal situation, and run into different kinds of dead ends and conundrums. Understanding clusters of factors, and seeing them in dynamic play in specific instances, is better than calling on a uniform notion of glass ceiling, tokenism, lack of female interest, or whatever.

It struck me, at the gender conference, how different the experience of conferencing is for (most) mothers, and much more so for single mothers, than for the child-free or for (most) fathers. A child-free person or (most) men preparing for a conference need to prepare their papers and their travel plans. Many mothers also prepare and freeze meals ahead, schedule activities, schedule child care, make lists for fathers or caretakers, grocery shop, clean the house, then be on-call during the conference, and then return to all of these things being undone and waiting. And, of course, they carry most of the 'mental labor' of worrying, checking, planning, and list-making.

I've been to one serious conference in four years, and may go to only one more in the coming 12 months, and my husband is a stay-at-home dad -- I probably receive far more support at home than most married women with small children. I just don' t want to be away from my family -- that certainly is a big factor. But it also costs so very much to leave the house for more than a few hours at a time, costs of preparation, being gone, and then return. So I was brainstorming about how to increase women's participation in vocation/career efforts that involve travel.

1. Use on-line technology. Perhaps she could participate in part of a conference on-line, and be there on site only part of the time. Perhaps she could video stream in her presentation.

2. Have on-site child care that is affordable or even free to registrants -- build it into everyone's registration cost. (I recently tried to attend the American Anthropological Association meetings, but could only afford to go for 7 hours -- I paid $110 for 7 hours of on-site child care, and that's considered progressive for a major academic conference.)

3. Encourage group work. Women's work, writing, and research could be featured in sessions presented by one member. Currently, in my industry, individual work is prized more than collaboration.

4. Have a kid-friendly conference. Consider public spaces, and even sessions, where kids can be. A huge plenary session, for example, could have a corner floor space for parents and kids, and groups of attendees can be socialized to tolerate the the presence of children.

5. If you want a woman to come speak at your deal, offer travel funding for her entire family, or a childcare stipend in addition to her speaking fee. I recently wrote a grant, a portion of which was for childcare so that two women with young children could afford to work on a larger team research project, but was told to 'hide' that spending line under 'stipend.' I thought it would be empowering, encouraging, and truthful to show what it takes for women to do research -- that is, in fact, the point of funding research with grants, but alas, no one agreed with me.

Any other ideas...

Two More Cents on The Compassion Forum

I spoke at a student Talk-Back session the evening after The Compassion Forum hosted by my college, at which Obama and Clinton answered questions about religion and social justice issues. Political commentator I am not, especially not at 9 pm, so my comments were incoherent and rambling (was I really chanting "Nader! Nader!" to an unparticipating crowd?). Rather than provide additional commentary on the forum itself, I could refer you to Christianity Today's Ted Olsen's nice summary and commentary -- nice because it says our students were 'abuzz' about Messiah's cultural engagement and our college is the envy of many others.

Jake Reitan's commentary, not so nice. First, it was disappointing how CNN's post-show commentary focused on Obama's 'bitter' San Francisco remarks, refocusing energy on what had been a distracting sensationalist tidbit before the Forum. Why not use the Forum's momentum to refocus media discourse on the environment, Darfur, or poverty? Then, equally distracting from the issues at hand, it was disappointing how Reitan focused his Huffington Post column on The Compassion Forum's error in being hosted at a college that "has a severe lack of compassion towards its LGBT students," because it forbids homosexual behavior. I wish Reitan would have extended compassion toward people other than those in his identity group by lending some activist strength to some of the issues covered in the forum.

By his definition, all Christian colleges that I know of have a lack of compassion toward LGBT students, but even by that definition, I'd argue that they vary in severity, and Messiah is actually one of the least 'severe'. Just today I overheard a very loud student in the cafeteria discussing her affection for gay men in general and her support of Gay at Messiah, an independent student support group. In one of my anthropology classes this semester some students think homosexuality is a sin, one thinks that is ridiculous, and several are interested in living without sexual identity affiliations (influenced by their professor). Faculty would display similar theological and social diversity. Reitan was on campus recently with his Equality Ride, and as far as I know, Messiah folks did not harm, attack, or dehumanize the LGBT activists who protested for change on campus - in fact, I've heard several people mention the Equality Ride as a valuable learning experience. The college forbids non-marital sex to all, and whether you think that is biblical or draconian, it is so for everyone, gay or other. Reitan is needlessly polemical and wrong when he writes that "gay people are not welcome" at Messiah.

Reitan's view of homosexuality at Christian colleges is all or nothing, which I don't find very productive. I chose to teach at Messiah, in part, because I knew I could learn about sexuality in an environment of diverse scholars, and conclusions I reach would not endanger my job. We confess the Apostle's Creed together and a Messiah creed, and pursue hospitality and gracious conversation in the details. Messiah, the institution, has a point of view on homosexuality, and Messiah students and faculty hold many points of view. Hospitality, the leitmotif of Messiah's president, calls us to generously welcome the other into our domain. Christians should be the first to model hospitality even on issues as profound and contentious as sexuality, and hopefully we can do that even with strident activists like Jake Reitan.

Eleven more hours until American Idol. (The workday is not going well when that's the only thing on my mind.)

Gender and Christian higher ed

The conference is Conversations Toward Wholeness, about shaping environments at Christian colleges where men and women can flourish. The setting is Point Loma Nazarene University which is amazingly beautiful. I have already found some beach spaces that are beautiful but unsuitable for children, which is just how I like it for these four days.

Ivy George (Gordon College) pointed out that men do not have greater success in academics because they are the superior sex, but because they have privileged access to literacy and time. Men who work full-time often, but not always, have a support system for childcare, laundry, food, and housework. Women who work full-time rarely, though not never, have the same.

She also said that women are subjugated as a class, and that individual women need not see their situations as idiosyncratic or isolated.

Jean Kilbourne (www.jeankilbourne.com) did her oft-showed slide show of images showing how advertising negatively impacts women and men, creating a 'toxic cultural environment' that destroys our relationships. Brilliant technique.

Karen Longman (Azusa Pacific) showed data that shows the gender gap in wages is significantly less at Christian colleges than at secular universities. She also pointed out that both men and women earn a lot less at Christian schools than their secular equivalents.

Someone who shall remain unnamed said women are faring better at Christian colleges than in the past, evidenced by the fact that there are now 5 female presidents among the 200 colleges in the CCCU. A table of women burst out a laughing protest. It was sort of funny.

I'm feeling supported and empowered. I don't think I've ever been in a room of over a hundred people who get it. Ivy George gave the most powerful feminist lecture I've ever heard from a Christian, and the audience -- both women and men-- understood it. Amazing.

If you need/want smart Christian women to speak for your conference or write for your project and you don't know any, I could give you 70 suggestions.

Local advice

I'm going to be at Point Loma University (near/in San Diego) and am hoping to take a few hours to be alone in a beautiful place. I'll have a car, but don't want to drive more than 5-10 minutes. Any suggestions?

Since September 2004, I have been away from my children for extended periods of time for a total of 70 hours. One 48 hour trip to Hope, MI in April 05, and one 22 hour trip to D.C. in February 08. Other than that, it's been just going to work for up to 8-9 hours at a time. I leave Wednesday-Saturday for four entire days in San Diego, at this conference on gender relations in the workplace at Christian colleges. I may or may not blog parts of the conference - we'll see.

I plan to sleep all night, go potty alone, eat meals alone, walk without anyone hanging on my ankles, and look at my face in the mirror and see what has become of me. And, of course, I plan to call home at least every 3-4 hours and miss my family terribly. (Don't tell me not to call so often, because I won't listen to you.)

My Patriot-News article, "More Than Miles Separate Harrisburg, West Shore", an opinions essay about local race-class issues, is here. It generated more e-mails than nearly anything else I've ever written: one negative (but thoughtfully so), one outlandishly negative (but humorously so), and the rest positive and thoughtful.

Belonging

Whoopie pies, shoo fly pies, handmade woodwork, and quilts were all for sale at the Pennsylvania Relief Sale, the proceeds of which benefit the Mennonite Central Committee. I saw friends from church and neighborhood and colleagues from work, and several old-school Mennonite women admired my family ("Three little boys," I imagined them thinking, "good work if you can get it.") That felt good, but there was one thing I saw at the sale that I couldn't buy - people's parents' friends. The PA Relief Sale was like a family reunion for lots of PA Mennonites - parents, grandparents, cousins, and friends and neighbors of each. Not to mention my parents themselves, I felt nostalgic for church concerts or college gatherings in Minnesota where I'd see friends of my parents, occasional spaces where I belong because of whom I'm related to.

When you move 1006 miles from home as I did, there are no more casual reunions, no meeting up at a sale, no cousins or grandparents in our daily lives. There's also no way for me to be a link in a three-, four- or eight-generation chain of religious tradition, as there is for many Mennonite parents I saw today. We moved out here, in part, for precisely that reason - to be intentional about how we situate ourselves and our children within the broad stream of Christianity.

I'm evangelical in a deep, historical way -- I believe in Jesus, the Bible, social justice, service, personal holiness, practical action, and not too much elitism or hierarchy. In Anabaptist settings, I find myself reacting to things with evangelical sensibilities. But the evangelicalism of my historical moment, say from the mid-1970s to present, is so much less than the goodness of broader evangelical history. I couldn't pass on my tradition even if I wanted to -- my education, job and our household structure (not to mention the feminism that animates it) would horrify my fundamentalist Baptist preacher grandfather, as would the rouge I wore, billiards I played, and moving pictures I viewed as a teenager, all evidence of how far my parents had moved from their own upbringings. Middle-class midwestern white evangelicalism of the 1970s and 1980s was so much more acculturated than grandpa's time. We went to public school but skipped sex ed, and went to prom but didn't dance. We lived in nice suburban houses, but compared our materialism favorably against those in the next higher income bracket. We shopped and shopped and voted Republican. We insisted on believing idiosyncratic and contradictory beliefs about the Bible, the end times, and other people's eternal fates, and as we lost lifestyle markers of distinction from the world, used those beliefs as identity markers.

It makes me sad that my boys' religious experience will be different than my childhood one, but even more sad that contemporary evangelicalism isn't hearty enough to maintain my allegiance. I'm not an agnostic parent, telling my children to be open to whatever truth they find. I'm raising them Christian, but with the agnostic method -- here's a Bible verse from evangelicalism, a social justice movement from Catholicism, an icon from Eastern Orthodoxy, and a whoopie pie from Lancaster County. Make what you will of it boys -- with God's help, that's what I'm doing.

First quote from Annie Dillard, For the Time Being (169-170)

"Spiritual path" is the hilarious popular term for those night-blind mesas and flayed hills in which people grope, for decades on end, with the goal of knowing the absolute. They discover others spread under the stars and encamped here and there by watch fires, in groups or alone, in the open landscape; they stop for a sleep, or for several years, and move along without knowing toward what or why. They leave whatever they find, picking up each stone, carrying it awhile, and dropping it gratefully and without regret, for it is not the absolute, though they cannot say waht is. Their life's fine, impossible goal justifies the term 'spiritual.' Nothing, however, can justify the term 'path' for this bewildered and empty stumbling, this blackened vagabondage - except one thing: they don't quit. They stick with it. Year after year they put one foot in front of the other, though they fare nowhere. Year after year they find themselves still feeling with their fingers for lumps in the dark.

A second quote from Annie Dillard, For The Time Being

"God is no more blinding people with glaucoma, or testing them with diabetes, or purifying them with spinal pain, or choreographing the seeding of tumor cells through lymph, or fiddling with chromosomes, than he is jimmying floodwaters or pitching tornados at towns. God is no more cogitating which among us he plans to place here as bird-headed dwarfs or elephant men - or to kill by AIDS or kidney failure, heart disease, childhood leukemia, or sudden infant death syndrome - than he is pitching lightning bolts at pedestrians, triggering rock slides, or setting fires. The very least likely things for which God might be responsible are what insurers call 'acts of God.'

Then what, if anything does he do? If God does not cause everything that happens, does God cause anything that happens? Is God completely out of the loop?

Sometimes God moves loudly, as if spinning to another place like ball lightning. God is, oddly, personal; this God knows. Sometimes en route, dazzlingly or dimly, he shows an edge of himself to souls who seek him, and the people who bear those souls, marveling, know it, and see the skies carousing around them, and watch cells stream and multiply in green leaves. He does not give as the world gives; he leads invisibly over many years, or he wallops for thirty seconds at a time. He may touch a mind, too, making a loud sound, or a mind may feel the rim of his mind as he nears. "Later on," a Hasid master said, "you don't see those things anymore." (Having seen, people of varying cultures turn - for reasons unknown, and by a mechanism unimaginable - to aiding and serving the afflicted and poor.)

Advice

Thanks for indulging so much of my work life in recent posts. It's either that or parenting stuff - that's the sum total of my existence right now.

A student asked me what I think of on-line graduate programs -- in general, not a specific program or field. I told her I'd talk to her on Thursday, and then headed over here to ask you.

My (emerging) opinion? I think on-line education is changing rapidly and is growing in quality as time passes. I also think on-line is better suited for some subjects/professions than for others. I also think some on-line programs are much better than others. For graduate school, especially research-oriented PhDs, I believe classroom-based programs are still the best. My opinion is more flexible on degrees that are more practice-based/professional, like EdDs or D.Mins.

I don't necessarily need your opinion of my opinion, though if you have something to say, go ahead. I do need your thoughts on on-line graduate education in general.