i'm here

Things have been busy. I waited until the 11th hour on my paper for yale and, of course, while I was trying to pull an all-nighter to finish, my youngest child decided I should pull an all-nighter to keep her safe and warm. Tonight, I am exhausted but beyond working on the paper, she has, thus far, decided to let me go about my business.

Job market is still a non-starter. I'm sending out a fellowship app this week but that is the end of the road for this year. The whole thing is puzzling and curious and depressing. If I wasn't so content with the rest of my life I would really be struggling.

things...

A few recurring notions swirling around amidst dissertation chapter 3, a draft which is fantastically behind schedule. I suspect there is some relationship between these thoughts but I have neither the time nor the inclination to figure it out much less attempt to express it.

1. As I was cleaning her up after dinner, my two-year-old daughter looked at me with a smile and yelled, "Charge!" Somewhat taken aback by the noise ( I was, after all, wiping her hands at the time of her pronouncement) I took a step back. "Charge?" I asked tentatively. "Charge." She answered resolutely. "They say it at the Brewer's game." She did attend some games this past summer but it's been months. Amazing!

2. Our babysitter came for a bit this morning she took aforementioned daughter to the library. When they came back, she asked me about the library. The conversation went something like this:
"Did you have fun at the library? I know it's a pretty ugly building but they have a good children's section."
"We had a lot of fun. I was impressed by all the books. They had movies too."
"Yeah, they have a good selection. You can request movies through the library catalogue and go and pick them up when they're ready. We use it instead of netflix."
"I think I want to get a library membership. The person in line in front of us was paying $3. Is that how much it costs to join?"
"No. It's free. You just need to bring a bill or something with your Milwaukee address."
"Oh... so then do you pay a monthly fee or do they charge you per item?"
"It's the public library. It's absolutely free. Most of their programs have no cost whatsoever. It's paid for by tax money, grants, donations and things like that. Had you ever been to a public library before today?"
"Never. I don't know anything about them."

3. Yesterday the kids took phenomenal afternoon naps. Since I had gotten some good work done while they were sleeping, it had been a while since I left the neighborhood and it felt too cold for a really long walk outside, I suggested to my partner that we get everyone in the car and take a field trip to the mall and cap it off with dinner in the food court. First my partner asked if I was feeling OK. Then he suggested that I hand over the baby and return his spouse. However, I suggested a trip to the mall was a cultural experience for our children and it would be fun. Since we make it to the mall about 4 times a year and eat in the food court half as often, it's actually something different when we do go. Granted, if I HAD to go to the mall to make a purchase or for a social engagement I would be extremely disgruntled. In my mind it's kind of like the difference between camping out because it's fun every once in a while and living under an overpass because you've been dealt a shoddy hand. We are fortunate people who can afford to live in a neighborhood that is safe to walk around and has a variety of places to walk to. For many people, the mall is where you go - mall stores are the arbiter of consumer taste and mall eateries the arbiter of taste. My partner grew up in that world. I did not. There is no mall on my island home, no chain restaurants of any kind. Our visits to those places were rare, at least as rare as they are in my life today. ANYWAY, we drove to the mall and did an upstairs loop, stopped in one shop to buy some hair clips for E. and then headed downstairs where we spent 15 minutes in the little mall playground. After that we walked to the food court for a junk food dinner. It was awful and greasy and it hit the spot. We had the vegetarian sub (with mayo!!), fries and lemonade from STEAK ESCAPE, mozzarella sticks & the Martha's Vineyard salad from Arby's (or was it Wendy's?), and E. finished the meal with a baby sized vanilla "ice cream" from McDonald's - her first-ever McDonald's fare. It was a lovely evening.

a day in the life

I'm parenting on my own this weekend as my infinitely more prolific and successful partner enjoys back-to-back job interviews. Really, it isn't too different to be here on my own except that the poor dogs get the shaft when it comes to walks. Although the erstwhile hour and two-hour walks they enjoyed prior to E's arrival are a distant memory, they are accustomed to at least getting around the block. Instead, we walk up and down in front of the house - as far as we can get until the baby monitor notifies me that it has lost the signal. And of course, bedtime is a bit easier with 2 sets of hands.

However, it has gone smoothly today despite the fact that I didn't get more than 1 hour of uninterrupted sleep all night last night on account of H's current excessive nightwaking (I assume teething and general glitches on the road to having a well-wired brain) and the time change messing with our nap schedule.

Incidentally, in the middle of the night (I believe it was the 2:46 waking) I resolved that I am going to clean up my diet and, as soon as this Yale paper and one lingering application are squared away, take up some kind of exercise - beside lugging about 50 pounds of infant/toddler around much of the day. Perhaps I will work those poor dogs into my plans but, more likely, I will join the 24 hr fitness center that just went in down the street. No point in giving up a health for this academic trajectory!

the sacred and the mundane

Today I am reading Social Performances, Alexander et al.'s new text on cultural pragmatics and performativity (incidentally, not the same performativity as ascendent in Europe among folks doing media, etc).

The text is supposed to provide a theoretical link between structural theories of culture (meaning of action is cultural/extra-situational) and pragmatic theories of action (meaning of action is situational and contingent). Given my line of research, a successful theory that did this would be wonderful. I'd love one from Alexander since I am a current subscriber to the strong program when it comes to the analysis of cultural meaning systems. However, I am not really "feeling" this text. I could discuss lots of little problems but instead will just state the glaring, apparently insurmountable issue that is going to doom this text to a footnote in my dissertation in which I state that they got it all wrong.

The theory of cultural pragmatics starts from the idea of ritual in understanding routine behavior. Further, most of the chapters examine highly "significant" moments (e.g. mass protests, national political crises). HELLO??!! The so-called "pragmatic" theories of action cultural pragmatics are supposed to improve upon are concerned with unremarkable, everyday action - those actions to which we pay so little attention (both personally and sociologically speaking) as long as we are fish in water but, yet, are the building blocks of both the social world and individual life trajectories. A more successful theoretical endeavor would have left Durkheim's rituals aside in favor of James' (or was it Peirce, I'm not willing to look it up) habits.

As I read it, and I will keep reading in case I'm wrong, the theory of cultural pragmatics does not extend logically or neatly to unremarkable everyday action.

success!!

I have an interview!

Good location, not so good department but, on account of good location, a pretty nice faculty. It's amazing what this process does to you. While I applied to the position assuring myself that, surely, I could do better, now I am grateful that these folks even want to speak with me.

I stretched my area of specialization a bit for this one so we'll see how it goes.

Of course, the possibility of a job offer is eons away but still I find myself struggling a bit, even if at the same time I am SO GLAD that SOMEONE decided I might be worth considering. The downside: my partner has prospects in 2 UNBEATABLE locations even if, professionally speaking, they aren't the best. Granted, I don't have any nibbles in those places. However, the idea of a life lived in location A & B make the idea of accepting a job in location C disappointing.

historicity

Why must sociological theorizing make sweeping historical claims? If we are, after all, sociologists, can we not be content to talk about how it is instead of laying claim to particular insight into how it used to be and, by extension, where it is going. I have the sinking suspicion that, in many ways, the way it is is the way it was is the way it will be.

If one member of my toddler's playgroup picks up an unused toy and, glaring at her compatriots, announces, "Mine!" that is sufficient to insight conflict as other toddlers attempt to wrest previously unremarkable object from her grasp. I could say that, with the rise of post-fordism and the increased subjectivity of worth due to globalism, objects increasingly derive value, not from their utility or material properties, but instead from the esteem placed upon them by others.

Even if not silly, not particularly necessary or accurate.

after all, that's why they are there

Take this lady from the zoo last month. BTW, if you have to come 15 feet out of your way and stand right in front of me to confirm that I am, indeed, nursing my child, it is, perhaps, you with the issue! Although I don't welcome the moment, I pity the person who actually says something to me about nursing because they will receive all the ire I've stored as a result of comments, snickers, and family-in-law issues around breastfeeding.

For the record, most awkward BF moment:
On flight to NYC in August. Since we were 3, I was left with the baby sitting next to a stranger. H. started to fuss during take-off. I latched her on (on the same side as the guy sitting next to me in hopes that would seem less uncomfortable to him and leave him less likely to get kicked. Once I had myself all situated (covered up with blanket, baby nursing successfully, I glanced at my seat companion and found that he his entire body (face included) was smashed so resolutely against the wall of the plane that, had he suddenly manifested hero powers like D.L., he would have ended up falling to his death. So, J. and I switched seats and, although it was a huge pain to manage a toddler and an infant, it was a million times more comfortable than sitting next to that guy. Incidentally, he was a nice guy and spoke gratefully with J. the entire flight.

waxes, wanes

I had a thoroughly depressing phone interview this morning.
4-4 load. No expectations of/support for research. Claims that they want people who love to teach but yet they have you teaching pre-fab classes.
I said everything I felt I needed to say to keep myself in the pool thinking the whole time that I have been completely out of touch with reality.

And now I am completely miserable.

If I had to do it again, I'd have listened to my advisors. 2 out of 3 told me to wait until next year. It's just so hard given the family situation. Namely, my partner being up for tenure shortly and us thinking, given he's at a middling school now, that he has a better chance for a move as a junior lateral. Turns out, in fact, that he is a great candidate. Now it looks like we'll be in the predicament of him having options in great places and me with nothing.

half full

I'm in a more optimistic mood this evening. I suspect the Red Sox, assorted chocolates from the WFM bulk aisle, and two sisters sharing the same bedroom all play a role.

Although I imagine I would do better work in a department where great work is routinely done and, furthermore, I was brought in on the basis of the expectation that I would do such work (leading me to do better work and, more importantly, for folks to scrutinize my work for brilliance), wouldn't I rather labor more independently someplace that provided research support but without the same onerous expectations (e.g. publications but not necessarily ASR/AJS)? If the department were located somewhere I'd like to be then I would be well situated indefinitely. If my work garnered the interest of more prestigious departments, I could consider a move and, perhaps, make one, suspecting, on the basis of the track record that brought me there, that I was able to meet expectations.

I guess what I'm saying is: I just need to be somewhere where I can do my work and have a work/life balance that meets my needs. I have access to a network of folks who can provide criticism, insight and guidance (especially if I have a little development $ for conference attendance). The rest is fluff. I know this is obvious but it is a step for me. Until I started grad school, I enjoyed significant success in my educational undertakings. I'm not used to feeling like I'm not good enough - academically speaking.

telling the code, performing power

Anyone with some advice on the relationship between "telling the code" and Jeffrey Alexander et al's recent work on performativity?

Also, wouldn't you say that authenticity is not always the goal of a performance? That sometimes folks just want to make sure that you've crossed your 't's and dotted your 'i's and don't really care if you mean it? Do you think that Alexander would suggest that in such cases we're not talking about performance? I suggest we could still be telling the code in these instances.

Which reminds me of an odd conversation that transpired a couple of days ago. I was speaking to the partner of a woman in my mom's group. This partner works as a police officer. He mentioned an arrest he made the evening before and alluded to a class of people who engage in crimes that are out of bounds. I said, "You mean like stealing someone's diaper bag out from underneath the stroller while they are pushing their child on the swings? That's what happened to us this summer." and he said, "Yeah. When you catch guys like that you just try to get a couple extra licks in."

So, yeah. I understand the drive. I mean, when we were walking around the neighborhood asking after our missing diaper bag, I really felt the desire to do harm to the culprit. It wasn't so much losing the diaper bag as feeling completely violated by the theft of the bag from a space (stroller, playlot) where I imagined one's personal possessions would be MORE safe. At any rate, so maybe it isn't crazy to want to "get a couple of extra licks in" but that a police officer not only admitted the desire but made it clear that he acts on it is crazy. I would think that, even if they do such things, cops would make a point of NOT making it known.

On another note, how about those red sox?

stereotype threat

A fter this post I'll go back to writing the paper that I am supposed to workshop at Yale in an alarmingly short time.

A difficulty arises in that I desire so much NOT to do what folks would expect that I do on the basis on my occupational and educational history, working class background, and family status and gender. At the very same time, however, EVERYTHING I do and aspire to reflects exactly those things.

Being a mother is the most important, rewarding, and challenging thing that I will ever have the opportunity to do. Ideally, I would be a part-time academic until I sent my youngest off to kindergarten.

I am an academic. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy teaching but I want to engage ideas, articulate approaches, and offer friendly criticism.

I was a first generation college student from a working-class family. I want my work to directly confront material issues. I want my family to understand that the work I do relates to their lives.

Finally, I really am a writer. I am so enjoying working on my dissertation (OK, not so much this chapter which is an add-on resulting from the clear demand for a focus on the "other" or "exotic" elements of the field). However, my drive to write fails when I imagine this project, so much about living breathing people and real hurts and needs being subjugated to the requirements of cultural form, ultimately languishing as a bound and rote academic piece on the dissertation shelf in the basement of the library. Or, if I'm lucky, getting published as a jargon-laden monograph by a third rate academic press so all 150 copies can collect dust in various university libraries.

So, what this adds up to is that I am, perhaps, happy to be a failed academic despite the fact that my ego is bruised and I feel that I am doing women, generally, and mothers, especially, a disservice. Although family finances (loan payments) require that I have some income upon completion of the doctorate (or just leaving), wouldn't I rather be free to revise my book for the general public instead of trying to break into the circle of elites discussing the topic in the academy? Instead of following this line of research until tenure, wouldn't I prefer to move on immediately to the next topic: the culture of mothering? Writing, once again, for change and the public?

Grand re-opening, Goodnight nobody

Just to make it official, I am back.

Seeing as I stopped blogging largely on account of concerns that blogging activity would have an adverse effect on my job prospects and, as it turns out, I have no prospects, I think I would like to return to my virtual ramblings.

Of course, I suspect that any readers are long gone. No matter. Just as I write my dissertation in isolation from my department, just as I raise my children outside of a web of family support, so shall I blog for myself alone.

precipe? crossroads? the dead marshes?

1. My self-esteem is too fragile for the academic job market.
2. When you are passed over by programs that met with you at the big gig in August, it's hard not to take it personally.
3. This tortuous process leads to soul searching.
a. Why did I pursue the Ph.D. in Sociology in the first place? Answer: wanted to make the world a better place. peace corps didn't meet my expectations. social work program was too clinical in its approach (the social system is the problem). so off to sociology.
b. Am I barking up the wrong tree? Am I lacking sociological potential? Will I be most happy/effective as an academic or outside of the academy?
c. Let's say that I will not be successful on the market this year. What do I do? Throw in the towel and look for regular job? Raise my children and try my hand at freelancing? Push back completion for another year to get more publications and drum up interest in my work? Take a dead end teaching gig that is outside of the norm for folks coming out of my program and that will not provide me research support (moral or otherwise)?

That my days as a student are coming to an end is all that I know with certainty.

Publications

Lack of publications leaving you concerned about my productivity?

How's this for productivity?

Requiem

It has been a while but I did want to put in a word for Mr. Vonnegut.
Bluebeard is his best work. I have read them all.
He and my old priest, also deceased, are the reason I attended the University of Chicago.
I met Vonnegut once. I believe I have recounted that encounter.