The Five Stages of Back to School

The time for back to school is upon us again - which also means back to blogging!

Image from and available at Morguefile.com

This time of year usually brings with it an array of feelings for some of us in higher education – which, with all due respect to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, I call the Five Stages of Back to School.  I am sure some or most of my colleagues in the professorate have experienced one of these stages at one time or another during the waning weeks of summer at some point or other in their careers.

Denial tends to emerge sometime around the Fourth of July.  One’s internal monolog goes something like this: 

Summer can’t be half over.  Summer isn’t half over.  Classes aren’t starting for another six weeks.  I still have lots of summer left ahead of me.  I still have plenty of time to finish my summer research projects, to plan my classes, and to submit that book review.

Anger tends to manifest in one of two forms.  One is internally directed anger that starts to develop after August 1^st.  It usually sounds something like this:

I can’t believe summer is half over!  I haven’t finished my summer research projects yet.  I still have to write that book review.  Hell, I still have to read the book so I can write the review!

The other kind of anger is directed externally, usually at institutionally-based conditions beyond one's immediate control, rearing its head by mid-August:

I can’t teach all the classes I have to teach.  I haven’t finalized my syllabi!  I still have to complete my book orders!  The on-line book order system never works!  I still have to decide what books to assign!  I can’t believe the teaching schedule I have this semester!  Who makes up these schedules anyway?!?

Please note, however, that no matter how much anger is directed externally, the true professional does not pull a Prof. Terguson by taking it out on the students once classes commence.

Bargaining sets in shortly after anger:

Maybe I can get a course release.  Yeah, that's it!  I’ll convince them that I need the time for more research and writing.  Maybe if I volunteer for that university committee nobody likes, they’ll give me a break.  Or I’ll tell them that I’ve been ask to coordinate a big conference... an out-of-state conference.  Yeah, that’s the ticket!

Depression usually comes with binges of Netflix, Haägan Daz, or whiskey.  Pick your poison wisely at this stage:

My students are going to hate me.  My colleagues are going to ignore me.  The profession is going to disown me.  I haven’t accomplished anything.  I have wasted my entire summer and probably my whole life.

Acceptance is like obscenity – you’ll know it when you see it:

Being an academic is great.  I have the opportunity to teach young people about things that interest me.  I have the autonomy to research and write about things that are important to me.  I have the privilege of working with smart people all the time.  Who could ask for anything more?

Obviously, I am speaking in broad generalities.  Any one of these reactions can be rational or irrational in its own right for anybody at any point on the academic calendar.  All any of us can do when that happens is to strive for our best and keep moving forward all year long.  Have a good one!

Do What You Love? Do What Needs to Get Done.

I read a couple of essays that discuss the cliché concept of “Do what you love.” These were likely written for the season of commencement speeches when new graduates are showered with platitudes about how to live their lives. Both of the essays ( here and here) are critical of the notion. The idea that you should throw yourself into what you love seems to be so self-indulgent. Throw away all of the other work that exists and immerse yourself in what makes you happy. There is something compelling about the notion that finding what you love and doing it will lead to happiness all around. We will all labor happily, for it will not feel like labor at all. We will have chosen our daily activities; we will love them, and will experience work as if it were play.

Being the father of two young children, I know that play is a wonderful thing, except for when it is time to clean up and clean up we must. Toys strewn about are dangerous, unsightly, dirty, and are prone to being broken, drying up (think clay, paint, and markers) and becoming unusable. Any one of these could lead to limitation on the future experience of joy that comes with play (the work of children, no?). This cleaning up [of crap] reminds me of a quote I read recently that noted that man, while created in God’s image, and in many ways divine, still shits. I searched the internet for the quote and happened upon a related quote from one of my favorite authors, Milan Kundera. In “The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” he wrote, 

Spontaneously, without any theological training, I, a child, grasped the incompatibility of God and shit and thus came to question the basic thesis of Christian anthropology, namely that man was created in God's image. Either/or: either man was created in God's image - and has intestines! - or God lacks intestines and man is not like him.
The ancient Gnostics felt as I did at the age of five. In the second century, the Great Gnostic master Valentinus resolved the damnable dilemma by claiming that Jesus "ate and drank, but did not defecate."
Shit is a more onerous theological problem than is evil. Since God gave man freedom, we can, if need be, accept the idea that He is not responsible for man's crimes. The responsibility for shit, however, rests entirely with Him, the creator of man.

I think he meant it as a playful indictment of the idea of God and religion, a precursor to the liberal atheism that is very much in vogue right now. I think that it also speaks to the idea that the world is far from perfect, a reality that is hard to understand and accept as we suffer through life.

Ruminating on the existence of shit and its seeming incompatibility with Godly perfection, seems to me to miss the point of what is to be done with the shit. It exists, like it or not, and leaving it out, like a pile of toys, has real downsides.

This is all to say that there are real shit parts of jobs. And some jobs are pure shit. They are thankless except for the paycheck, and even that may not make the work worthwhile. What would Steve Jobs say to that? How to love a job that is full of shit? Many of us might identify with such a question as few of us get to be CEOs, screen actors, professional athletes or novelists. Few of us get to do what we really love.

And to take the argument of Miya Tokumitsu, by convincing ourselves that we must do what we love, regardless of compensation, even those who end up doing what they love, get the financial shaft.  First, there is a great deal of low wage, but essential work that is done, not out of love, but because it is essential, like picking fruit in the hot California sun, removing garbage from alleys in the early hours of the morning, or caring for the terminally sick, chronically mentally ill, and elderly. We tell ourselves that this work, while important, does not require a high level of skill, intelligence, or training, so it is deserving of low wages. But we tell teachers and adjunct professors and social workers, and now lawyers and doctors, that because you are doing what you love, we should pay you a low wage, too, and if you ask for more, you shouldn’t be doing that work because you obviously don’t really love it. This tautology becomes the perfect crime for the capitalists, CEOs, and college presidents who make salaries many times more than the average worker at their respective institutions.

I think a much more realistic perspective is to do whatever needs to get done. Doing the laundry, making your bed, picking up the toys, cooking dinner on a Wednesday night, cleaning the bathroom, filling out paperwork, and going to meetings, should all be done because they need to be done. Even astronauts have to fill out reimbursement forms for their out of state travel-they are public employees after all.

We have already shown our capacity to make much of this drudgery go by with ease (see for instance, our high levels of efficiency and productivity). We could probably do more to reduce the bureaucracy and management culture of our labor (managers managing managers who conduct evaluations of evaluators who evaluate the people who actually produce the product and serve the customer). In fact, we could probably greatly reduce our work week, as the British are proposing, thus creating more jobs. This would probably have to go along with making sure our basic needs are met through high quality accessible schools, healthcare, and affordable healthy food. That is something that is not really out of reach, given the embarrassment in riches we have in those areas.  While also making more time to do the things we truly love.

What does this have to do with being Mexican? Well, Mexicans frequently bust their asses in shit work without complaint. Somewhere between that extreme and doing what you love lies happiness.

Remember Those in Prison

On Friday, I gave a guest lecture to about 15 men who are incarcerated at Stateville Prison in Joliet, Illinois. This is the second lecture I have given there in the past couple of years. My interest in issues of incarceration relates to my work in education. In my work with Jerry Moreno we have looked at the issue of the disproportionate identification of Latino youth identified as having behavioral disorders. This identification as being a "problem child" becomes a slippery slope towards criminalization as the following graphic shows:

Related to the funneling of males of color toward the prison system is an educational system that does not provide engaging and meaningful opportunities for the children it serves. Some argue that the disproportionate representation of youth of color among those who receive disciplinary actions in schools is due to their own behavior or the deficiency of their families and culture. Even our own president, a self-identified black man, has made this argument.

The "culture of poverty" argument ignores basic economic investments that reveal our priorities about education, poverty, and race. We invest significantly more in prisons than we do in schools in all states. An article in The American Prospect from 2010 noted:

Nearly 75 percent of imprisonment spending happens at the state level, where dollars are drawn from a general fund that is meant to pay for a range of public needs, including health care, housing, public assistance, and education. Whether we look back over the last two decades, or just the last two years, education, in particular, has become a casualty of state budget battles. Analysis by the National Association of State Budget Officers shows that elementary and high schools receive 73 percent of their state funding from this discretionary fund; colleges and universities count on the fund for half of their budgets. However, $9 out of every $10 that support imprisonment come from the same pot of money. With tens of billions of dollars in prison spending annually, states are finding that there is simply less discretionary money available to invest in education, especially in these lean economic times.

So, with both prisons and schools receiving their funds from the same source, there is obvious competition for scarce state resources. Prisons are winning out because there is an increasing profit motive. Many prisons are now privately run and are for profit entities. They have contracts with states and thus there is a built-in incentive to first get the state money and then to make money on top of that. Simply, the motive is to keep the prisons full so there is a constant demand for their product.

 

There is also a disincentive to spend on services in prisons for both the for-profit and the state-run prisons. The state run systems simply have less money, and the private systems are reluctant to spend money on services that would reduce their profit margin. The narrative of undeserving prisoners who cannot be rehabilitated because of deficient morals and culture justifies this lack of services. One might say it is the "perfect crime." Starve schools of funds, watch students misbehave out of boredom and anger, arrest them and blame them for their behavior, imprison them, and make money off of it in the private prisons you own or invest in.

 

Teaching at a public university in Chicago that serves a diverse group of largely first-generation students of color at a relatively affordable price has allowed me to come into contact with students of many backgrounds. One group that has offered both hope and alarm are students who were formerly incarcerated. In my five years as a professor I have had over a dozen students who have done significant amounts of time in prison. This is a phenomena that I have noticed along with another professor at Northeastern, Erica Meiners, who has long been dedicated to the issue of the so-called "school to prison pipeline." Together we have begun interviewing our students about their experiences of education, being incarcerated, and higher education. This project has increased my already heightened awareness of the consequences of failing to provide resources, such as quality schools, positive adult role models, mentors, and teachers, and out of school opportunities to youth early in their lives. It has also made me aware of the need for education in prison in order to facilitate better outcomes when individuals are released, such as employment and reduced recidivism.

My visit was part of a larger project to provide such services to inmates by a group of extremely dedicated volunteers, many of them university faculty, writers, and artists. The
Prison + Neighborhood Arts Project or PNAP,

is a visual arts and humanities project that connects teaching artists and scholars to men at Stateville Prison through classes, workshops and guest lectures. Classes offered include subjects ranging from poetry, visual arts, film study to history. Classes are held once a week, on a 14 week semester schedule. Each course will result in finished projects—visual art, creative writing or scholarly works—with specific audiences/neighborhoods in mind. These works are exhibited and read in neighborhood galleries or cultural centers. Over the course of an academic semester, artists and scholars on the inside and outside address key questions: What can we learn from each other?; Who are our audiences?; What materials and methods best relate our concerns?; What can we say from inside a maximum security prison?

The historical context of this program is described on its website:

Over the last twenty years, an absolute defunding of programming in prisons has occurred. Between 1953 and 1994, state and federal grants made art and higher education available to people in prison. Since the 1994 Crime Bill Act barred funding to incarcerated students access to higher education for people in prison has been nominal. Today, non-profits and universities have stepped in where the state has retreated. In Illinois, even prison libraries have been defunded, leaving to volunteer groups the task of getting books to prisoners. Men at Stateville are left with few outlets for educational and creative inquiry. The prison has a population of over 1,800, but only three GED classes with a long waiting lists. In this context, Art and Humanities programming in adult state prisons is unique. 

While there I shared some of my own work, which involved facilitating an after-school arts program aimed at youth who were incarcerated, who were involved, or are currently involved in gangs, and those who seem at high risk of getting involved in gang activity. The program is called LuchArte and a youth can be seen describing the program here, along with some commentary by me.

This project was co-founded with my student Eddie Bocanegra, one of those who was able to successfully complete his bachelor's degree at Northeastern Illinois University and who is a quarter away from completing his master's degree in social work at the University of Chicago.

 

The hardest part about this work, despite successes such as having the youth present their work at art shows, them winning art competitions, and selling their art, has been the fact that many of the youth continue to be involved in gang life and art is really only a several hour respite from the negative aspects of their environment each week. One youth admonished me once, saying, "I hope you don't think that you're some kind of Freedom Writer" referring to the trope in films where an adult savior turns a troubled youth's life around in what is often a simplistic, sometimes even racist narrative, that doesn't fully acknowledge the complexity of change. I must acknowledge that the actual program on which the film is based does not have such a simple view, but that is frequently missed by the feel-good story that Hollywood tries to portray, that typically involves white people saving people of color from their perceived bankrupt culture.

As I shared these thoughts during my visit, the inmates seemed engrossed. They then shared how they also struggled to reconcile the structural forces that contributed to them being incarcerated, on the one hand, and them taking responsibility for the crimes they committed on the other. We ended up having one of the most thoughtful, passionate, and nuanced discussions of free will, determinism, and personal responsibility I have ever had. They have obviously had much time to think about their situation and society; in a tangentially related story, in explaining my work, I sarcastically shared that my job is to think and that it is such an integral part of a professor's work, that we get the privilege of having a full paid year off every six years to allow us to do so. When I shared this, one person laughed and said, "well, I have been on sabbatical for ten years. I have been doing a lot of thinking." We all laughed at this. At some points during our conversation we all seemed to struggle with whether there was any hope at all for change given the large barriers that people must overcome, especially if they are black or Latino, poor, and go to under-resourced schools. 

I shared with them that one lesson that I have taken away from my experience working with youth is that time seemed to be key. Simply "doing time" with them, showing up consistently, and genuinely caring, had the greatest effect. It did not change their lives, but it was the most appreciated. The best part of my visit occurred at the end when one by one all the men came to personally thank me and shake my hand. Several of them quietly said, "you should keep spending time doing your work; it does make a difference." I was touched as these men with whom I spent time, who are so deprived themselves, appeared to feel the need to validate me, my work, and my insecurity. 

Perhaps the wisdom is that doing time is what matters. That requires acknowledging and remembering those that are most vulnerable. They are worthy and very human. As one of my students shared on Facebook this Easter:

Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering. Hebrews 13:3

Something worth celebrating? The case of Kwasi Enin.

Image from and available at The Independent.

I can understand why some people are excited, encouraged, or otherwise happy by the news of Long Island teenager, Kwasi Enin, earning admission to all eight schools in the Ivy League.  After all, the chances of any applicant getting into any one of them are slim at best.  Added to that is that Enin is a first-generation immigrant; meaning his parents came to the United States, likely looking for a better quality of life for their children.  Plus, he is a likable young man, evidenced by this interview.

Yet, it seems to me that applying to all of the schools in the Ivy League is either a sign of one 17-year-old's overwhelming arrogance or an indication of poor high school guidance counseling.  I tend to think it might be the latter, which raises a host of questions for me as to how many of our nation's students are being mismatched with their higher education aspirations - especially those with fewer means than those on Long Island.

The Ivy League's eagerness to accept Enin might also suggest the degree to which elite schools are beating the same bushes for outstanding minority students in response to public demands to diversify their student bodies.  I mean no disrespect to Enin nor do I mean to diminish his accomplishment.  I do wonder, however, why all eight Ivy League schools accepted the same student rather than each school finding eight separate deserving students to accept.

On a personal note, I do wish Enin the very best in his endeavors; which he undoubtedly can do by attending the University of Pennsylvania.

Misguided Outrage Over a TV Commercial

Most people by now either have seen Coca-Cola’s Super Bowl ad, “It’s Beautiful,” have heard about the outrage the ad has caused, or both.  In short, the television spot features people singing “America the Beautiful” in various languages over scenes of Americana – mostly families and friends enjoying themselves in everyday scenarios – with Coke’s products near at hand.  Apparently, the use of any language other than English to sing this particular song offended some.  In reading this morning’s news coverage of this so-called controversy, I do not know what makes me sadder – that people are upset at all by the commercial or that the people who are upset either are uninformed or confused over what has upset them.

First, it seems those now calling for a boycott of Coca-Cola’s products have misplaced their anger by approximately 40 years.  This year’s Super Bowl ad is just the latest attempt by Coke to use feel-good unity to sell its products.  Those of us of a certain age can recall the 1970’s “Hilltop” spot that featured a multicultural group of people signing about wanting “to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony,” while holding bottles with Coca-Cola with labels written in different languages.  What is more, some who took offense at this year’s ad lack a fundamental understanding of why they are upset, mistaking “America the Beautiful” for the United States’ national anthem.

Ultimately, Coca-Cola’s latest Super Bowl ad continues the tradition of conflating patriotism and professional sports to sell a product.  Beyond sales, however, I honestly do not understand that traditional conflation.  Having jets or helicopters fly over large scale sporting events at the end of the singing of our (actual) national anthem seems to be more of an institutionalization and normalization of the kind of militarism and nationalism that we as a county have criticized other nations - usually totalitarian and oppressive regimes – for displaying in the past (think Red Square on May Day at the height of the Cold War.)

Perhaps it is the institutionalization and normalization of shows of force prior to violent athletic competitions that suggests to some that they are allowed to be hostile to other people.  Ironically, it is ending that kind of hostility that undergirds Coke’s “It’s Beautiful” spot.  Unfortunately, the actions of those individuals who have responded negatively to Coke’s latest effort at promoting harmony suggest more hatred towards Americans than genuine love of America.

Super Bowl 2014: Sometimes a Mexican Has to Bet on Black

I have written before about the presence of Mexican-descent players in the NFL, particularly at the quarterback position. Just yesterday I learned that two members of the Broncos offensive line, Louis Vazquez and Manny Ramirez, part of an offense that is arguably the best in football, are of Mexican ancestry. Here in my hometown of Chicago, we have Roberto Garza, a Pro-Bowl center who is the child of Mexican immigrants, who has played here for years. This is a remarkable progression of Mexican-descent football players moving up in size from kickers, to quarterbacks, to being some of the biggest and toughest guys on the field. I think this sets a great precedent for young Latinos, showing them that they can be involved in the game at any level, at any position. Unlike last Superbowl where Mexicans weren't even invited to be part of the ads, even one where you think they would be prominently featured, given its focus on agriculture in the United States.

While my Mexican roots play prominently in my identity and how I view the world, I have other allegiances that motivate me as well. As someone with darker skin, I have found myself the recipient of discrimination and stereotypes based merely on my physical appearance. From being stopped by the police, searched multiple times by Homeland Security agents when traveling, being questioned about where I am from despite being U.S.-born, and being told how well I speak my native language English,  I have come to realize that dividing people by race is fundamental to American culture. And while Latinos like myself are sometimes treated as a distinct race, I believe that in our country it still really comes down to Black or White. As W.E.B. DuBois, the famed, Harvard educated, African American sociologist stated, "the problem of the color line," is the one that characterizes the United States. Striving for racial justice for all people, not just Mexicans or Latinos, then, can take the front seat in my worldview.

Race has come to be a big part of the narrative of this Superbowl with the interview that Richard Sherman gave after the Seattle Seahawks won the NFC Championship. First, there was this:

Actually, Latinos were slighted, because they were first on the scene when Spanish speaking media gave Sherman a lengthier, yet similar interview moments before the Andrews segment:

Twitter immediately erupted with racist views about the interview:

People were so put off by the fact that a Black man would behave with such bravado, that they vowed to root for the Broncos, and cited the clean cut and well-mannered Peyton Manning as a reason for doing so. This obviously set up a narrative of Black vs. White, "thuggish" behavior vs. being appropriate and polite.

Manning certainly is likeable:

But, people seem to forget that football is an aggressive, adrenaline-filled, violent and competitive sport, and even good old well-mannered Southern-folk have inappropriate temper tantrums:

I have to wonder if it just isn't that shocking for a White quarterback to berate a Black offensive linemen.

Other elite black athletes from violent, aggressive, and competitive supports have also become notorious because of their behavior:

We tolerate it to an extent, but when it crosses a perceived line, such as potentially threatening a White woman (Erin Andrews), or calling into question inconsistencies in U.S. policies, we rush to silence these points of view:

  

This despite the legitimacy of these views and the well-thought out ways in which they are articulated.

 

So, while I didn't have a strong vested interest in the outcome of the game initially, I think from a racial justice perspective (if it has to be racial-and I didn't say it did, but others do), this Mexican is betting on Black. Go Seahawks. 

Besides, who would trust a guy like this?