Yesterday, one of my students created a twitter account for me. Her reason is that it’s really cool, but she also felt that I couldn’t commit to this blog and tweeting would just be easier. So, with all sarcasm, @justsami10, thanks. Honestly, I don’t even know if I used the correct twitter style to write that #generationaldifference.
I guess there are a few reasons I’ve been missing in the blogoshpehere. One, I feel incredible pressure to be witty. We’ve discussed that already so I won’t go any further. Two, until Tiger and all of his prey, there really hasn’t been anything too interesting that I felt like writing about. Since I mentioned it, I’ll share a few thoughts on the Tiger situation: 1) Elin, since we have yet to see Tiger I take that as proof that you kicked his a$$- good for you!; 2) I really don’t care how many companies drop or keep Tiger as their spokesman- Tiger, you’re filthy rich and if you never pick up a golf club again you’ll stay filthy rich- that is of course as long as you don’t have multiple children by all the women you were messing around with. If that’s the case, man, you better be prepared to put a whole lot of babies through the best schools!!!
Back to the reasons I haven’t been blogging. My main excuse has nothing to do with pressure or lack of interest- it all revolves around a crazy decision I made about a year ago to go back to school for my doctorate.
Anyone I have met who is in a doctoral program (particularly a higher ed program) is constantly encouraging others to go back. “You can do it!” “You should do it!” “It’s worth it. If I can do it, so can you.” Right, so I listened. I, like the people in the Jonestown Massacre, sipped the Kool-Aid. What the heck was I thinking? TRUST ME blog friends…I will not be one of those people who encourages everyone to go back to school for a doctorate- at least not this month and maybe not even a few months from now. Perhaps it’s because I’m working full time, maybe it’s because I wasn’t ready for the economic theory laden higher ed finance class I took, or maybe it’s because I chose the wrong topic for my first literature review and research proposal, but school is hard! It kicked my butt. It hurt my feelings. It made me question my intelligence. It made me question my career. It was CRAZY! School was so crazy, it made me not realize that there were tons of great things to blog about for the past four months- the balloon boy and his crazy father; Taylor v. Kanye; the fact that Kanye is nuts; the fact that Jermaine Jackson has a son named Jermajesty; Whitney’s comeback; etc. etc. etc.
So, this first post in a few months is an attempt to recommit myself to blogging. Of course, I only have a few weeks before classes start again and I voluntarily torture myself to learn about the history of higher education and organizational theory in higher ed. Maybe this twitter business won’t be such a bad thing- between getting things done for work and running to class I might be able to quickly say, “Jermaine Jackson, why is your child’s name Jermajesty? People already think your family is crazy! #hotmess”
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year-Or is it?
I've always loved the Staples commercial that features Andy Williams' "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." This commercial shows parents pushing carts full of school supplies through the store with their kids in tow and has always been one of my favorites. I've loved school probably since my very first day (well, not during my brief stint at Phyl's Academy when I was traumatized by the teachers and some of the students, but I still got a great education so whatever) so of course I think that going back is one of the most wonderful times of the year!
Anyone who works in Higher Education will tell you that this time of year is go time. We have all types of programs and events throughout the year, but mid-August really is the most high energy, fast paced, and truly exciting. I spend my days during this week of first-year move-in, orientation, and the start of classes, directing parents to resources, talking up my office ad nauseum, using the bathrooms in my building that the new students don't know about yet and therefore haven't made disgusting by 10 am, containing my frustration at people who slow down driving and foot traffic on campus because they have no clue where they're going, and "venting" with colleagues about the overall madness of opening. Note that venting is in quotes in the above sentence, because the truth is that that "venting" is really just a roundabout way of talking about how much we love what we do.
Aside from all the annoying parts of opening, I also spend my days in this first week assuring students that they'll be okay. To the ones that look like deer in the headlights, I tell "you'll know how to navigate campus in no time." To the ones who are homesick I say "just watch, you'll eventually forget to call home." To the ones who are nervous about classes I remind, "you wouldn't be here if you couldn't handle it." And yet, I find myself two hours away from starting my first doctoral class at NC State and all the advice I regularly give students just seems like lip service. I don't think I'll ever know how to navigate campus...no matter how many people I ask about parking, I just don't think I'll find the lot or my way to the building after I eventually get there. I'm certainly not homesick, but right now I would love to be sitting on the couch in my mom's livingroom or even at my desk at work...it's safe, it's comfortable. And, how the heck am I going to handle classes?!
I realized today that I feel like a freshman all over again! (Higher Ed folks, give me a break on the use of the word freshman.) I totally get why they look at me with crooked smiles and doubt filled eyes when I tell them they'll be okay. The educator, the realist, the optimist in me knows that I will be okay- I will survive going back to school just as I have so many times before. The little voice in my head however, just wants to tell Andy Williams to shut up!
Anyone who works in Higher Education will tell you that this time of year is go time. We have all types of programs and events throughout the year, but mid-August really is the most high energy, fast paced, and truly exciting. I spend my days during this week of first-year move-in, orientation, and the start of classes, directing parents to resources, talking up my office ad nauseum, using the bathrooms in my building that the new students don't know about yet and therefore haven't made disgusting by 10 am, containing my frustration at people who slow down driving and foot traffic on campus because they have no clue where they're going, and "venting" with colleagues about the overall madness of opening. Note that venting is in quotes in the above sentence, because the truth is that that "venting" is really just a roundabout way of talking about how much we love what we do.
Aside from all the annoying parts of opening, I also spend my days in this first week assuring students that they'll be okay. To the ones that look like deer in the headlights, I tell "you'll know how to navigate campus in no time." To the ones who are homesick I say "just watch, you'll eventually forget to call home." To the ones who are nervous about classes I remind, "you wouldn't be here if you couldn't handle it." And yet, I find myself two hours away from starting my first doctoral class at NC State and all the advice I regularly give students just seems like lip service. I don't think I'll ever know how to navigate campus...no matter how many people I ask about parking, I just don't think I'll find the lot or my way to the building after I eventually get there. I'm certainly not homesick, but right now I would love to be sitting on the couch in my mom's livingroom or even at my desk at work...it's safe, it's comfortable. And, how the heck am I going to handle classes?!
I realized today that I feel like a freshman all over again! (Higher Ed folks, give me a break on the use of the word freshman.) I totally get why they look at me with crooked smiles and doubt filled eyes when I tell them they'll be okay. The educator, the realist, the optimist in me knows that I will be okay- I will survive going back to school just as I have so many times before. The little voice in my head however, just wants to tell Andy Williams to shut up!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
My Ten...Well, Thirteen
A couple of hours ago someone asked me, "So, did you even listen to any Michael Jackson in the last fifteen years, you know, before two weeks ago?" I was elated to not only tell him "yes" but to also share that HIStory Volume I was in my home stereo the day he died. While I was elated to answer him, I was really more than offended by that question. I realize that a lot of people are jumping on the bandwagon and others are rediscovering their love with Michael Jackson...I however, am not one of them.
I shared with some friends that for some years now, I have had a list of about 10 people who when they die, I will be devastated. MJ was the first on my list to go. To avoid obnoxious questions like the one I was asked earlier, I've decided to share my list with you. In no particular order:
-Oprah Winfrey
-Robin Roberts
-Diane Sawyer
-Janet Jackson
-Bill Cosby
-Whoopi Goldberg
-Whitney Houston
-Diana Ross
-Charlie Gibson
-Bill Clinton
-Nelson Mandela
-Barbara Walters
-Fidel Castro
I recognize that some of these people are controversial, but they are still on my list...they've menat things to me for some reason or another in life. While I don't wish any of these people death anytime soon, I want to go ahead and say for the record that when these poeple die and I am mourning, it is not to be a part of the fad.
RIP Michael Jackson
I shared with some friends that for some years now, I have had a list of about 10 people who when they die, I will be devastated. MJ was the first on my list to go. To avoid obnoxious questions like the one I was asked earlier, I've decided to share my list with you. In no particular order:
-Oprah Winfrey
-Robin Roberts
-Diane Sawyer
-Janet Jackson
-Bill Cosby
-Whoopi Goldberg
-Whitney Houston
-Diana Ross
-Charlie Gibson
-Bill Clinton
-Nelson Mandela
-Barbara Walters
-Fidel Castro
I recognize that some of these people are controversial, but they are still on my list...they've menat things to me for some reason or another in life. While I don't wish any of these people death anytime soon, I want to go ahead and say for the record that when these poeple die and I am mourning, it is not to be a part of the fad.
RIP Michael Jackson
Friday, June 26, 2009
Too Much To Take In
Everyday has a big news story that is unfortunately overlooked by the majority of people. Occasionally, there's a story that's big enough for people to latch onto and chat about over lunch or with strangers in the grocery store. And, every now and then the "big news story" revolves around some common interest and will really only be the topic of conversation in a small group of friends who share that interest.
I woke up yesterday fully expecting my big news story to be the NBA draft. Stephen Curry was going to the league and I, like most every other Davidson Wildcat waited in anticipation for 7:30 to get here so that we would know where our golden child would end up. However, as I participated in my morning ritual of watching Good Morning America and eating my standard bowl of cereal, Barbara Walters announced to Diane Sawyer that Farrah Fawcett was in her final hours and would likely not make it through the day. Now, Barbara is an experienced and fairly responsible journalist so I knew she wouldn't make a declaration like that had she not just communicated with someone from Farrah's camp, so I prepared myself to let Farrah be the big story of the day.
I was born the year Charlie's Angels ended and was spared going through adolescence during the height of Farrah's popularity. I didn't have to experience the awful duality of having low self-esteem because I didn't (and never would) look like this iconic blonde beauty, and idolizing the woman simply because that's what women did. But, she was Farrah. She was an icon. And it was going to be sad that she died. I was ready to listen to her friends talk about their memories and watch endless media outlets play video tributes to the life that was.
Farrah died...it was all over the news. That is until MJ stole the show as he had done so many times in his life. Suddenly the big news story was major. Bigger than grocery stores, bigger than your small group of friends. It was global. There isn't much that we can honestly say the entire world has in common. Yes, there is religion and if you're "lucky enough" to be Christian, Muslim, Hindu or not religious at all you can probably go around the world and find someone who shares your religious beliefs (or lack thereof). If you're really lucky, you ascribe to a religion that isn't one of the "big dogs" and can still find someone who shares your beliefs. There are also those simple things we have in common like the need to eat, sleep, have shelter. But music, we all share music. Music is global. And there are very few entertainers who were as global as Michael Jackson.
Let's fast forward to 7:30pm. The NBA draft has started. Eventually, Stephen Curry is picked 7th by the Golden State Warriors. What the heck?! They stole him from the Knicks. I've got little more to say about that because the truth is that my attention had already been diverted. I half-heartedly followed the draft and could only briefly hate on Golden State and the entire state of California because I honestly couldn't handle this MJ news.
Thank God for what I once considered to be one of the worst television features created- Picture in Picture (PIP). As I sat waiting to hear where Steph would go, a small corner of my television showed me the scene atop the roof of the UCLA Medical Center, the crowd gathering outside of the Apollo Theater, and of course, fan reactions around the world. This was devastating. But then I got to thinking. We lost Michael Jackson that day, but when you consider it, we had lost him already. So many of us have been holding on to the music of a man that could unite strangers simply by hearing the first 15 seconds of a song. But he was already gone. He was distant, strange, troubled. So, as I mourn the passing of the great Michael Jackson, I realize that I am saddened more by the fact that he is no longer physically with us, because somewhere in me I believe that Michael Jackson left us a long time ago.
So, there it was. Whatever you thought or planned your big news story of June 25, 2009 to be, it likely changed. My friends interested in the draft will probably talk in a day or two about how Steph got stolen by Golden State. Maybe ABC will replay the 20/20 special that Barbara Walters prepared on Farrah Fawcett (interestingly it was originally scheduled to and did air last night). But, this Michael Jackson story will be with us for a while. June 25, 2009 was just too much to take in- "it makes me wanna scream!"
I woke up yesterday fully expecting my big news story to be the NBA draft. Stephen Curry was going to the league and I, like most every other Davidson Wildcat waited in anticipation for 7:30 to get here so that we would know where our golden child would end up. However, as I participated in my morning ritual of watching Good Morning America and eating my standard bowl of cereal, Barbara Walters announced to Diane Sawyer that Farrah Fawcett was in her final hours and would likely not make it through the day. Now, Barbara is an experienced and fairly responsible journalist so I knew she wouldn't make a declaration like that had she not just communicated with someone from Farrah's camp, so I prepared myself to let Farrah be the big story of the day.
I was born the year Charlie's Angels ended and was spared going through adolescence during the height of Farrah's popularity. I didn't have to experience the awful duality of having low self-esteem because I didn't (and never would) look like this iconic blonde beauty, and idolizing the woman simply because that's what women did. But, she was Farrah. She was an icon. And it was going to be sad that she died. I was ready to listen to her friends talk about their memories and watch endless media outlets play video tributes to the life that was.
Farrah died...it was all over the news. That is until MJ stole the show as he had done so many times in his life. Suddenly the big news story was major. Bigger than grocery stores, bigger than your small group of friends. It was global. There isn't much that we can honestly say the entire world has in common. Yes, there is religion and if you're "lucky enough" to be Christian, Muslim, Hindu or not religious at all you can probably go around the world and find someone who shares your religious beliefs (or lack thereof). If you're really lucky, you ascribe to a religion that isn't one of the "big dogs" and can still find someone who shares your beliefs. There are also those simple things we have in common like the need to eat, sleep, have shelter. But music, we all share music. Music is global. And there are very few entertainers who were as global as Michael Jackson.
Let's fast forward to 7:30pm. The NBA draft has started. Eventually, Stephen Curry is picked 7th by the Golden State Warriors. What the heck?! They stole him from the Knicks. I've got little more to say about that because the truth is that my attention had already been diverted. I half-heartedly followed the draft and could only briefly hate on Golden State and the entire state of California because I honestly couldn't handle this MJ news.
Thank God for what I once considered to be one of the worst television features created- Picture in Picture (PIP). As I sat waiting to hear where Steph would go, a small corner of my television showed me the scene atop the roof of the UCLA Medical Center, the crowd gathering outside of the Apollo Theater, and of course, fan reactions around the world. This was devastating. But then I got to thinking. We lost Michael Jackson that day, but when you consider it, we had lost him already. So many of us have been holding on to the music of a man that could unite strangers simply by hearing the first 15 seconds of a song. But he was already gone. He was distant, strange, troubled. So, as I mourn the passing of the great Michael Jackson, I realize that I am saddened more by the fact that he is no longer physically with us, because somewhere in me I believe that Michael Jackson left us a long time ago.
So, there it was. Whatever you thought or planned your big news story of June 25, 2009 to be, it likely changed. My friends interested in the draft will probably talk in a day or two about how Steph got stolen by Golden State. Maybe ABC will replay the 20/20 special that Barbara Walters prepared on Farrah Fawcett (interestingly it was originally scheduled to and did air last night). But, this Michael Jackson story will be with us for a while. June 25, 2009 was just too much to take in- "it makes me wanna scream!"
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
What's In a Name?
It should be witty. It should be straightforward, mirror my personality, reflect my passions and be mysterious enough that people will want to read on.
Maybe to a lesser degree but certainly significant enough, I toiled over what the name of my blog would be the same way parents might toil over what to name a newborn. After talking myself away from a name that would prove my unyielding love for my hometown of Brooklyn, New York (and show that although I've lived in the South for years, I am still in fact a Yankee), I decided on a line from a short but thought-provoking poem by the great Langston Hughes. As I said, the poem is short, so I won't write or summarize it for you. I will however tell you that for being so straightforward and simple Impasse stirred something in me.
So, what's in a name? We live in a fast-pace, instant gratification society. We live in times where people feel incomplete if they can't immediately share with hundreds of friends, what they ate for dinner (Dexter wants you to know that he doesn't need Outback because his wife can make bloomin' onions), their unmet desires (Bobby wants to see Transformers), and their team loyalty (Gerard wants everyone to GEAUX TIGERS!). I appreciate the good facebook status update and am even guilty of posting a few updates a day myself. Truthfully though, I only care what you ate for dinner if it was the bomb and you're about to share the recipe. I only care that you want to see Transformers if there is some significant life factor that is preventing you from getting up and going to the movies. And, I only care about your sports team if it happens to be mine too. This is the beauty of our time...we can choose what to share and what to keep private, we can do it as quickly or slowly as we want, and, people can choose to be interested or not care at all.
So, what's in a name? I still don't know the answer to that question and actually have no desire to come up with a clever response. However, I'll use this blog as an extended facebook status of sorts. When I eat the bomb dinner, if I want to tell you, I will. When I see a great movie (or just really want to), I'll let you know. Or, when my team wins or loses, I'll celebrate with or vent to you. There will probably be some more serious posts too...commentary on the state of the world (revolution in Iran), opinions on a stupid decision made by a politician (hmmm, Governor Sanford of SC), and thoughts on major societal issues like teen pregnancy (did anyone see that Primetime special last night?). The point is "i could tell you if i wanted to..." and occassionally I will. The great news is that you could choose to not "give a damn." READ THE POEM!
Maybe to a lesser degree but certainly significant enough, I toiled over what the name of my blog would be the same way parents might toil over what to name a newborn. After talking myself away from a name that would prove my unyielding love for my hometown of Brooklyn, New York (and show that although I've lived in the South for years, I am still in fact a Yankee), I decided on a line from a short but thought-provoking poem by the great Langston Hughes. As I said, the poem is short, so I won't write or summarize it for you. I will however tell you that for being so straightforward and simple Impasse stirred something in me.
So, what's in a name? We live in a fast-pace, instant gratification society. We live in times where people feel incomplete if they can't immediately share with hundreds of friends, what they ate for dinner (Dexter wants you to know that he doesn't need Outback because his wife can make bloomin' onions), their unmet desires (Bobby wants to see Transformers), and their team loyalty (Gerard wants everyone to GEAUX TIGERS!). I appreciate the good facebook status update and am even guilty of posting a few updates a day myself. Truthfully though, I only care what you ate for dinner if it was the bomb and you're about to share the recipe. I only care that you want to see Transformers if there is some significant life factor that is preventing you from getting up and going to the movies. And, I only care about your sports team if it happens to be mine too. This is the beauty of our time...we can choose what to share and what to keep private, we can do it as quickly or slowly as we want, and, people can choose to be interested or not care at all.
So, what's in a name? I still don't know the answer to that question and actually have no desire to come up with a clever response. However, I'll use this blog as an extended facebook status of sorts. When I eat the bomb dinner, if I want to tell you, I will. When I see a great movie (or just really want to), I'll let you know. Or, when my team wins or loses, I'll celebrate with or vent to you. There will probably be some more serious posts too...commentary on the state of the world (revolution in Iran), opinions on a stupid decision made by a politician (hmmm, Governor Sanford of SC), and thoughts on major societal issues like teen pregnancy (did anyone see that Primetime special last night?). The point is "i could tell you if i wanted to..." and occassionally I will. The great news is that you could choose to not "give a damn." READ THE POEM!
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