House, Part I

So the house pictures are going to have to come in phases, I'm afraid--a) because I have so very many of them (lucky you!) and b) because it's the only way to get me to post more than once a month, apparently.

All the pictures have been imported AND reduced to a manageable size, though, so I have no further excuses! Here goes.

Up for today: The Outside of the House and the Living Room.

1) Outside. Here is what my house looks like.




Isn't it darling? Isn't it sweet? Doesn't it have a striking front porch? (Ignore the aluminum siding, please.) Our little bungalow was built in 1900 and, in the '30s and '40s, was a grocery store/coffee shop. This means that it's almost certain that Field's Most Famous Alumnus drank coffee in our house at some point. This seems impressive, but for the fact that our offices are also in the building where he used to have swim practice or something. Anyway. I don't like FMFA anyway, so we can all just get over this bit of trivia.

2) The Living Room. The living room comes in many parts. First, the light:


The room faces South and West, so that's the sunset through our almost-brand-new windows.



Cats enjoy the view.



I love the light in this house. The living room, dining room, and kitchen all face South, so the light just glows across the hardwood floors all day. The windows all seem to come in twos and threes, too, so there's a wonderful feeling of openness in every room.

The living room is so big that we decided to have it house our desks as well as our "social furniture," and there's still plenty of space:


We just got the couch--which dates from the '20s--off of Craig's List at quite a good bargain. Despite appearances, the velvet is all the same color (there's some weird reflection thing going on in this picture).


Of course, there are also fabulous built-in bookcases, and yes, the fireplace works. (We're waiting on a framer to finish with the piece of art that will go behind the mantel clock.)

And while we're in the living room, take a look at the Morris Chair we just found and had reupholstered:


What really sold us on it were these guys:


We've named them after (very obscure) Arthurian knights from Malory. Ten points to anyone who can guess what they are! Also, check out those vents--the cats love them (hence the cat bed in front of this one). Next time, when we're in the dining room, I'll show you the cats' favored sleeping-place.

And I'll leave you with the view from the living room into the dining room. We painted both of these rooms (as well as both bedrooms and the bathroom); the walls in both of these two rooms were originally white with brown-beige sponge painting. Not particularly attractive.


Pardon me while I bask in the beauty of my home....

Snow festival!

It is a Snow Festival around here, folks. A veritable Carnival of Wintry Precipitation! On top of the 6 inches we got last week (which melted a bit in yesterday's torrential [rain] downpour), we now have lots more snow with 25 mph winds, which may or may not qualify as "blizzard conditions." It's very cozy to be in our new house (pictures are finally taken; soon they'll even be downloaded!) with the very big, new, airtight windows and watch the snow fall. HOWEVER, we need to spend the afternoon cleaning the old house. Alas.

The real reason for this post is to signal my re-entry into the blogging world (I've been away for almost a month! It feels like quite a bit longer, actually). So: Hello there!

No Pictures of the House Yet

But between the Wife of Bath and "Batter my heart, three-personed God," my Brit Lit survey has become an apologia for domestic violence.

(I actually prefaced my concluding comments last week with, "Ignore the justification for domestic abuse that is about to come out of my mouth." And, when a student said, "But I just don't like the idea of it; I wouldn't want to be raped by God," I at least had the wherewithal to add, "Good! I don't want you to want that.")

OMG paint. PAINT!

I've been painting walls.

Five rooms down. One to go.

We move in less than two weeks.

!!!!!!!!!!!

In related news, I now have the coolest bathroom EVER. Gothic cathedral theme, anyone?


(Apologies for incoherence. Once we've actually moved in--LESS THAN TWO WEEKS!!!--there will be pictures. And someday I might have a thought in my head again; right now, all I yearn for is an end to classes and an end to painting.)

(I do miss blogging, I think. There will be more of it in the future.)

On Money--or, rather, not

I can't write about money and higher ed.

I've been trying to post--here, and in a comment to squadratomagico's post--and I'm too afraid of incurring displeasure, I guess. I keep deleting.

But I'm going to bite the bullet and tell you why I appreciated squadratomagico's post, in which she states that she is not going to fight for a higher salary because a) she's happy with what she has and b) it would be pointless and dull (and some other, better stated reasons; you should read her post; I have not represented it very well).

Anyway. Here's what I started to write in the comments:

I make less than 40% of the salary that started the conversation ($43k, if you're interested-and I'm a fourth-year tenure-track assistant professor with a book, loads of service experience, and excellent teaching evaluations). Reading the discussion at TR's made me feel...well, to be frank, much worse about my income and generally resentful of pretty much everybody who makes more than I do. In fact, I couldn't get through the post/comments, it produced such negative feelings. Some of that's definitely my baggage; I feel deeply embarrassed about my salary when I hear what other people make, and angry that it's so little, although I know that Field couldn't pay me more right now (in fact, I just got a raise). But I do feel humiliated, and resentful, and--even though I know that this isn't the point (I know it! Don't remind me! I'm a petty bitch!)--a little pissed off that people who make so much more than I do trivialize their salaries.

That's not exactly a productive feeling, especially because I, like squadrato, enjoy a perfectly comfortable and pleasant life that is not visibly lacking in anything that money could buy. I work my ass off, it's true, but I genuinely like my job, and I'd still be working my ass off if I were making twice as much. Of course there are inequities, and combating inequity is laudable--but dude, *my* middle-class life is not exactly heart-wrenching--and yet, again, I make much less than that initial salary, and nearly all of the salaries mentioned in the comments.

I don't mean to suggest that everyone should just shut up and deal...but, well, I don't know. I don't think that faculty making over, say, $80,000 (unless they live in certain very expensive areas of the country) are necessarily hurting? --I'm kind of terrified of posting this, though, for fear of pissing everybody off. But...gah. Okay. Let's change direction. I can't change my salary (short of getting a new job). I can't. So do I compare upwards (and forget doctors and lawyers--that's waaay out of my league, and by the way, they have LOADS more debt than I do and are on call 12 months out of the year), or do I enjoy my actual situation as it actually is, rather than thinking about what it could be?

Hell, when it comes down to it, I would gladly take a course release over a raise--time is quite a bit more valuable, in the end. I'd much prefer hiring more faculty (instead of adjuncts), keeping our salaries the same, and moving to a 3/3!

(I am not at all talking about adjuncts or postdocs with $22k salaries, by the way. Just the privileged tenure-trackers. To be clear. In fact, maybe I'm only talking about myself.)

All righty--before I delete this or edit it into oblivion, here I go. Don't hate me.

Worst blogger ever?

Just a quick Hello, I'm Still Breathing post. Sorry about the blog silence. I've been pretty busy (who hasn't?) and avoiding the Internet, to some extent, when I'm home. It's nice. On the other hand, it means that I never blog.

Well, to be honest, there are no great and grand updates in my life; mainly I've just been deciding not to long on here and whine about how I'm sooooo busy etc. etc. I do that out loud, to everyone who listens, so I am filling my whine quota, even if you don't see it--never fear. Classes are fine but overly abundant; the house stuff progresses apace (we're just waiting to close in 2.5 weeks--oh, and we need to get homeowner's insurance); I have done no research whatsoever this semester, despite attending a fantastic conference (see "overly abundant," above); the weather's finally getting colder; the cats are exactly who and what they are. And now, it's time for bed.

How are you?

Feminism in the Fields

Dulles terminal (1)

I've not been online much lately, other than for work-related emails. I do occasionally read y'all's blogs, but haven't even been doing much of that, to be honest. Here's the thing: I had bloglines bookmarked on my work computer. I have now switched to Google Reader (which I like less, but eh, who cares), and have not bookmarked it on my work computer. Lo! I spend a lot less time reading blog posts, and correspondingly less time writing them.

Although I would dearly love to muck around on blogs while I'm in the office, I think I'm going to maintain the current system for as long as I can stand to do so.

What I need to post about, really, is the whole committing-to-Field-for-real-at-least-for-now thing that buying a house seems to entail, but right now I'd like to just say a few words about teaching a course in feminist theory at a small college in the middle of the most conservative county in midwestern Field State.

It's weird.

First, a bit of context: My feminism seminar is required for senior English literature majors. OK, feminism per se isn't required for them, but we have a senior capstone course with a changing topic, and I have taught it for the last three years (and will continue to teach it until we either get a new hire or I decide that I don't want to teach it again and find someone else with the room to pick it up--hooray! I love this course). In the past, I've done gender in medieval literature and literature and technology (from manuscript to the digital age, essentially--I'm trying not to use my real course titles), and this year it's feminism. So the thing is, most students don't get a choice: They take what I offer in the year that they're up.

For the most part, feminism isn't a problem for this year's batch. We have five senior English (literature) majors this year who are required to take the class, and then two English (writing) majors and a literature minor who are taking it either because they need another literature seminar or because they just wanted to take it. All of them are seniors. And, of the eight, seven are apparently digging it (even though one is a little hung up on the whole thing of not saying she's a feminist because of all the mean feminists, despite the fact that she is SO A FEMINIST oh my god, she just needs to own it, seriously). Oh, and all of them are women, which was pure coincidence but probably does affect the course content (I had to talk about clitoral pleasure the other day, for example; I would have done so with men in the room, of course, but I can't pretend that the audience doesn't make a difference).

But there's one student about whom I worry. She's lovely--wicked smart and sweet, and about the hippest dresser on campus (I love her style). She writes beautifully, is kind and conscientious, and is a generally delightful person. And she is very religious, and quite conservative. And, oh yeah, shy--I think that, in the 2.5 semesters that I've had her, she has voluntarily spoken in class once.

I know from her response papers that the material in this course is problematic for her. She writes thoughtfully and well, but poses questions like, "Is the patriarchy really such a bad thing?" This, of course, from a bright, strong young woman (and she is strong, even if she's quiet). And she never says a word in class unless I call on her directly.

The other day I had her in my office for a different reason and took the opportunity to talk to her a bit about the course. I figure that this is the most I can do right now: I told her that I appreciated her comments, that she's not obligated to agree with everything (or anything) that we read in class, that she is welcome to push against them and measure them against her own views, and that she should know that she's not the only one who finds some of the readings troubling. In class, I try to present her point of view whenever I can (since she doesn't speak and I don't feel that it would be right, in this case, to single her out to voice her view--particularly because some of her objections are on putatively religious grounds).

It's hard. I worry about her when I prep.

And it makes me hyper aware of how much I do embrace feminist theory, even though some of it is, in fact, a little divorced from reality (ecriture feminine, I'm looking at you), and how hard it is to feign neutral objectivity when presenting material with which I am on board to a group of students who are--all but one--vocally in agreement with me on at least a majority of points.

Still, it could have been worse. English majors, at least, tend to skew progressive, whatever their professed political beliefs.