Last week was a whirlwind. The normal end of semester obligations all converged into one week. In addition to all my grading and service meetings, I had a data collection event, a faculty retreat and two graduations. I also turned 48 and Angel came home for a month long visit.
This semester was indeed long and horrible but it was not without its rewards. I enjoyed teaching my theory course immensely. It was an interesting class to design but mostly I enjoyed the amazing discussions with my doctoral students. But the highlight of the semester was Friday morning's graduation, where I got to hood another student. She is a lovely woman with a promising career and the warmest of smiles. I am proud of all the work she did and thrilled that she landed a tenure track position that will allow her to continue to grow and succeed.
I'm spending Mother's Day doing what I love best: being with b and Angel. It is a beautiful spring day filled with lots of good food and a family bike ride. Best of all, my grading is done and I can take the day off without regret.
Tomorrow starts my summer schedule. I have a short list of projects and plenty of yoga planned. Let the summer begin.
My taste in books, films, and music tends towards the depressing. I like hard-hitting emotional stories about the harsh realities of life and social injustice. I like stories that make you feel sad and indignant; occasionally empowered and hopeful but not always. My book club members have come to accept this (and some share my tastes) and b has learned to sit stoically through movies I've chosen. But last night I watched a film that hit me hard.
I grew up in the neighborhood where the rape took place. Although I was no longer living there in 1989, it hadn't been that many years since I had run, walked, and biked around that section of Central Park. I was also only a few years younger than Trisha Meilia, the "Central Park jogger." I remember the strong feelings I had when I first heard of the brutual rape and the revulsion I felt over the callous statements that reportedly came from the confessions of the five young men accused of the crime.
I was just pregnant with Angel at the time the incident occurred and I was the age that Angel is now; only 8-10 years older than the teenagers the police arrested. I had been studying martial arts for about 8 years and had strong (naive) opinions about jogging alone in the park at night. Although I felt I could handle a lot of situations, fighting off "a wolf pack" of teenagers didn't seem likely and the events described in the newspapers were scary.
The documentary accurately describes the racial tensions in the city at that time. I was well aware of them but I (again naively and with no small degree of unacknowledged privilege) didn't want to believe that race was behind this incident; I didn't want to believe that the fact that the victim was white and the accused Black and Hispanic were the main factors in the case. I wanted to believe they were evil and to feel some degree of relief that they had been caught and justice would be served. I wasn't completely naive and blind. I remember reading about the young Black woman who was raped and thrown off a building around the same time as this case. I knew, and made the argument even then, that the lack of attention on that case as compared to this one was racially biased. I knew Trisha Meilia's race and the location of the crime were responsible for the mass hysteria that played out in the media but I totally believed these young men were not only guilty but souless for doing what they did and finding it "fun."
The documentary is filled with images of the "Central Park Five" taken from newspapers and TV recordings at the time. Watching them last night I remembered how I had thought they looked arrogant and tough back then. Now, 24 years older, having raised a son to manhood, I see them very differently. They just looked young and scared. They were boys. They were in over their heads and thinking like adolescents. Back then I couldn't imagine why anyone would confess to something they didn't do; now I think it makes perfect sense. It was also incredibly painful to watch the faces of their parents; so obviously trying to do the right thing for their sons but completely overwhelmed, manipulated and not at all aware of what was really going on. I can't even being to imagine their pain.
I think this documentary may show the worst that lives in all of us. What happens when biases go unchecked, when institutions condition how we perceive situations and how we make decisions. What happens when bad decisions go unquestioned and public opinion, fueled by the media and the economic/political advantages of a certain type of story, prevents rational action. The evidence against these boys was not just missing, its missingness was an indication of innocence. Likewise the contradictions and inaccuracies in their confessions should have been enough to stop the train. But perhaps the most disheartening part of the entire story is the unbelievable, Hollywoodish ending.
In 2002 I defended my dissertation, bought my first house, and moved out of NYC. I have a lot of memories from that year but they don't include hearing that the real rapist came forward or that these five men were cleared of all charges. In the film several people say that story was not as compelling as the original story and so the media didn't run with it. It seems a pretty dramatic and newsworthy ending to me. It seems the type of ending that a novelist would be brought to task for; criticized for being too unbelievable, too pat, too easy. The reason why we say "truth is stranger than fiction." I didn't learn the ending to the story until last year when I read an account of the film. The silence from the media and the lack of resolution to the 10-year old civil case brought against the city by these men is the moral of the story. Not only are our most base human characteristics exposed in how these men ended up tried and convicted but we refuse to own our responsibilty for our actions. We refuse to acknowledge our culpability. We refuse to learn. And so we will do it again.
Classes are over and grading has just begun. The end of the semester is upon us. I've participated in my last defense of the season, turned in my annual report, and attended the final faculty meeting. Next week brings my last service obligation, our faculty retreat, and graduation. My summer plans are mostly made and have already grown trifold.
In spite of all the stress and craziness, this time of year can hold a few treasures. Today some friends gave me a copy of a letter, written on my behalf, that included quotes from all my doctoral students describing my traits as a mentor and the role I play in their life. Yesterday a student arrived at my office with a poem, some food, and lovely words of appreciation. The rewards of academia are not always obvious but, for me, they reside in my students. I am grateful for the time I have with them and cherish their faith in me.
It has been a month since I lasted wrote a blog post. While this isn't completely unheard of around here, it is a bit unusual. Some of it can be blamed on the semester but, if I'm being honest, it is mostly due to a funky mood I've fallen into. Over the past few days a few post ideas have started flirting with the section of my brain devoted strictly to writing. I figured a list would help clear the cobwebs before any real posts surface.
What I've Been Doing Instead of Blogging
Taking part in World Book Night again. This year I distributed Salvage the Bones to a program at my local YWCA. I'll be going back in a few weeks to lead a book discussion.
Having my teeth pulled out of my mouth. Back in January I finally ponied up and made a long overdue appointment with the dentist. While I have no cavities, I needed 4 teeth pulled (with one more to go) and some deep cleaning. My mouth feels quite lovely now, thank you.
Doing my job--no more, no less. I haven't had it in me to go the extra mile this month, so I haven't. I've taught, mentored my students, did my service, and wrote a little bit but that's been all. Everything has gotten done on time but I've been slower to answer emails and more likely to say no to requests.
Reading for pleasure. This mostly takes place at night, right before I go to sleep, and has been immensely enjoyable. I've read and highly recommend: What the Family Needed and The Good House.
Making yogurt! And it tastes so much better than what you buy at the store.
Talking Angel through an experience with a really nasty boss. Luckily the job is over and he's learned some valuable lessons.
Doing yoga, lovely lovely yoga, whenever and whereever I can.
Watching Downton Abbey. Yes, I finally caved. I've watched the first two seasons and am about to start the third. For all of you out there who told me so, feel free to say "I told you so."
Watching Top of the Lake. Sinister and engrossing but not for the feint of heart.
Presenting my research poems on campus as part of an opening act panel discussion before the premeire of Top Girls. The research and the poems were very well received by an audience of theatre students. I'm not sure what that means, but it was great fun.
Messing up my taxes. I did both our taxes and Angel's taxes this year and made a small but painful mistake that caused Angel to file an amendment and us to have a very long wait before we hope to see a return.
Turning Angel's room into a studio. I've been feeling the need to create lately. I'm not sure where it is coming from, as I don't consider myself a creative or crafty person. But I bought a few supplies, cleaned out the back room, and have been dabbling in mixed media. The results are not promising but the process is incredibly relaxing.
The state of the semester can be summed up in five little words: It really needs to end. This has been a long and grueling semester. I was prepared for it to be bad but I was not prepared for it to feel unending.
Normally the spring semester is a painful flash, like tearing a really tight bandaid off in one stroke. But not this year. This year it is being removed hair by hair.
No one else seems to agree with me. For everyone else the semester is whizzing by. I blame it on: the extended wintery weather; having two full searches conducted in our department (back-to-back); and Angel moving to NY.
Regardless of the reason, it needs to end. I just finished grading papers for my doctoral class. Since it is the first time I'm teaching the class, it is the first time I've given this assignment. Sometimes the first time isn't a charm.
There is more grading ahead of me, in both classes, but hopefully nothing too overwhelming. Another student is just about set to defend her proposal and once that is done it should lighten my feedback load quite a bit.
Luckily classes are over at the end of April and I can officially retire the semester by mid-May.
Sunday, May 12, 2013 at 11:13AM 
