Thursday, July 2, 2009

Two Years

My Mother and Me (December 2005)

My mother died two years ago today. Two years. I woke up not feeling too bad about it. I actually thought, "Hey, this isn't so bad today." But I've gotten worse as the day's gone on. No surprises, I guess. It's been a long couple of years with a lot of things happening, some good, some bad, a lot I don't want to go through again. I was trying to work earlier but just kinda crashed. Again, no surprises. Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day Da Man's father died (forty-one years ago). The anniversary of his grandmother's death is ten days after my grandmother's. Days we'll never forget.

Soon after my mother died, Ron posted this poem for me, and it still speaks to me.

Footwork

When Nijinsky died, they cut open his feet
to find the secret of his dance. His bones,

it turns out, were like anyone’s.
With each step, our heels sink that much

deeper into earth. We have
nowhere else to go. Once my mother

crossed and recrossed an entire field
to find my sandal. Now she’s gone;

she left her darning.

: Jody Gladding, Stone Crop

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Remember That Journal I Asked About?

A few weeks ago, I posted a question about what to do when it has been almost a year since you'd heard about a journal submission, and the editor keeps giving you the runaround. After hearing people's thoughts, I'd decided that I was going to wait until it had been a full year since the first email from the editor saying they had received my essay and then email them, asking for a response and saying I really appreciate the opportunity for feedback but saying that I would send it elsewhere after two weeks. That was the plan, at least.

Sunday night, when I went to check email before bed, there was a message from one of the members of the editorial collective. They liked the essay and thought it was a great fit for the journal and wanted one change "before a final review prior to publication." And the change was pretty simple. I'm writing about specific moments related to my teaching of issues related to gender and sexual identity, and I presented the discussion through the framework of my body, what it means when my body is in the classroom teaching different things. They said that it seemed I was talking more about identity than the body, so they wanted a shift in how I framed the essay. And that makes perfect sense to me. So, I spent this afternoon making those changes and emailed it back to them tonight.

I admit that I'm not getting my hopes up too fast, though. First, the email thanked me for resubmitting my essay. But this was the initial submission. I'd never received a revise-and-resubmit request. And I wrote back Monday saying I could get the revision to them soon, asking how they wanted to receive it. I hadn't heard anything, though we're just approaching the third day after I sent it. If they really think it's that close to publication, then fantastic. I thought it needed more work, but that's why I needed responses. Considering how the timing has gone so far, it may still be a long time before this moves forward, but I made the requested change and got it out of my inbox fast.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Bear Sighting on Campus

Bear Sighting on Campus

The image above is a screenshot of an email that went around campus last week about what to do in case we find a bear roaming around campus (click here for the biggest shot). Jo(e) was on a campus teeming with rabbits; we've got to start being on the watch for bears.

(And, oh, my gay friends are going to have fun with this one.)

Monday, June 29, 2009

Last Week's Recap

Last week, I did not do any blogging about the RSA seminar other than my entry on Wojnarowicz for the seminar itself. Frankly, when I was NYU, I had no television or internet or anything else in my dorm room to distract me, so I blogged more. At Penn State, I had a typical hotel room with cable and a hot tub close by. When the seminar was over each day, I was back in the room needing to veg out a bit and welcoming distractions. But that silence was not a commentary on the seminar, which was great.

I went hoping to get a better handle on how I could frame my work as a part of visual rhetoric. One of my exam areas for the PhD was in visual rhetoric, but that was just as the field was starting to come together, and a lot has happened since then. It always seemed like it would be a good way to frame my work, but I wanted to get a better sense of the major texts and frameworks so that I could apply them to my work. And I got that kind of information right away.

I might be wrong, but I think I was the oldest person there in terms of career. There were a few assistant professors, most of whom seemed to be in the early years of their jobs. But most of the participants were graduate students. It felt a bit odd to be the old guy in the room. And I'm sure there were moments when I was the annoying old guy in the room. I admit there were times I could not shut up, but that was because I was really getting into it and had tons of ideas in my head.

And it wasn't just about the workshop. I had lunch one day with Michael and another day with Deb. Michael and I have met a few times before and caught up on things. And Deb gave me some great ideas for some of the various projects I have in mind. And I hung out with a couple of local, non-academic friends, too.

Now, after that NYU workshop and the RSA seminar, after auditing a class at NYU last semester, the next thing is to finish the draft of that damn Wojnarowicz article, which is now what I am officially calling it. I've done a lot of thinking, and the options are all there. It's time to do it, and it's the primary goal for July.

Jesus Land by Julia Scheeres

As usual, I had a book with me on this trip, Jesus Land by Julia Scheeres. I remember seeing this on the new paperback table at Borders when I had some leftover professional development money. I picked up all the provocative-looking memoirs, and this was one of them.

Wow, it is good. I'm not sure how much to say because it was a great experience reading it and being stunned when certain things happened. The biggest reason I read it as fast as I did was because I wanted to find out what happened to everyone and how they were going to get from point A to point B. Scheeres grew up in Indiana in the 70s and 80s in a conservative Christian household. Her family was white, and her parents adopted two black boys (separately). She was close in age to the youngest one, David, and they became best friends. He and the older boy were the only black kids in the entire school. And thier mother had the attitude of turning the other cheek whenever they encoutered racism. You can imagine how effective that was. And their parents were very strict. Actually, that is not the best word. Frankly, I think they were abusive. And when the kids did not behave properly, the parents sent Julia and David (at separate times) to Escule Caribe in the Dominican Republic. There, the abuse got worse.

That's why I read the book from start to finish and wanted to get it done so quickly. I wanted to know if it could get worse and how/when they got out. The details above are pretty much the same details that appear on the back of the book, so I haven't revealed much that most readers won't know when they start reading. I did get to the point where I skimmed the last chapter before I was halfway done, and I NEVER do that. But I was really feeling for these people. Racism and religious bigotry all at once.

On her website (linked to above), Scheeres has scans of several documents that were part of her research. The academic geek in me loved seeing them, and I just might refer to them in an article I'm writing on truth in memoir. She also helped start a website where alumni of the school and its affiliates could tell the truth about their experiences. It's painful to read. Frankly, I've never trusted those places, and reading the book and the website upset me even more. And I don't even have a personal connection. I notice that talk shows no longer have episodes where kids are taken to boot camps, and I wonder if that's because the truth about them has been coming out over the last few years.

That's just one reason why a book like this is so powerful.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A Little Talk about Wojnarowicz

(For my regular readers: At the RSA Seminar this week, we have been asked to compose a blog post like one you would see on No Caption Needed. I'm altering that for selfish reasons. I want to get that damn Wojnarowicz article I've been talking about for years to a journal by the end of 2009, so I'm taking every opportunity I can to write for that article. So I'm doing a close reading of one of the images I plan to discuss there. That's what this is. Feel free to comment, since this is part of a project I intend to pursue in depth, as anyone who has known me for a while knows. I have none of my research with me, so this is a basic close reading, but any and all feedback is welcome. Because the journal may not be able to reproduce images, I am writing as though the image is not included in this entry.)

This is one representative example of the images contained within the Sex Series. Like every other image in the series, Wojnarowicz prints it so that the image looks not like a standard photograph but more like it is a negative, still in black-and-white but with the light patterns reversed. The dominant image is a photograph of the two main bridges connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn, Manhattan Bridge and Brooklyn Bridge. The top right of the photograph shows the southeastern edge of lower Manhattan, while the bottom shows the northern sections of Brooklyn. The photograph depicts a somewhat typical skyline shot clearly taken from a plane. The viewer is place well above this scene, barely able to distinguish any building but the tallest skyscrapers, let alone individual cars on the bridges. It is a vast and familiar public space, one where millions of people shift in and out of it each day.

At the top of the image's left corner, Wojnarowicz has place a circular inset depicting sexual activity between two people. One person on all fours straddles the face of another person lying on her or his back. This inset represents the private domain. Acts like this one could be occurring throughout the public space in the image's background (though, hopefully, not in any cars on the bridge). In many ways, it is a completely average sex act between completely average people. But even though the act is average and ordinary, it is often shrouded in secrecy and shame. Wojnarowicz, knowing that American society does not engage in larger, public discussions about diverse facets of sexuality, wants the placement of these two images together to remind us that sex is everywhere, that it is as ordinary as the bridges that connect Manhattan and Brooklyn.

Gender is impossible to determine in the inset because of both the technique of printing is as a negative that I mention above but also because it is cropped in a way that removes the head and upper torso of the top person and the lower body of the bottom person. The sex act dominates. In depositions related to the court case, it is clear that Wildmon assumes these people are two gay men engaging in fellatio, but Wojnarowicz makes it clear that these are women participating in cunnilingus. I clarify gender in this case because it reflects what I see as one of Wojnarowicz's goals for the entire Sex Series. As a gay man, Wojnarowicz knows that viewers will assume he is promoting the need to acknowledge gay male sexuality in a world where thousands have died from or continue to live with HIV. But Wojnarowicz wants to promote the acknowledgment of sexuality in general. Many images in the Sex Series depict gay male sexuality, but others contain heterosexual sex, and this one highlights lesbian sex. Using the image of the negative erases gender (except in those insets that show a penis protruding from a male body) and highlights the normalcy of sexuality across genders.

The use of a circle may initially appear to be an ordinary way of inserting this private scene into this public space, but there is much more going on here. The use of the circle highlights visualizing technologies. Both the microscope and the telescope, devices that look outward and inward, use circular lenses. And connecting the insets to those technologies supports my claim above about the need to acknowledge the things that define our existence even if they usually remain invisible to the naked eye. The blood cells that carry oxygen to our hearts (and, in some cases HIV) and the stars that provide us light at night are a part of human existence. At the same time, reflecting on these technologies--and the ordinary and extraordinary things they can reveal--brings to mind other technologies, specifically the technologies of surveillance. I have said above that these insets highlights the normalcy of sexuality, but they also make visible the acts of surveillance that push people to keep sexuality secret. To be clear, neither I nor Wojnarowicz is arguing that we should be having sex in public. But this surveillance demands that we not even talk about sex in public, which is a dangerous silence in a world where sex can lead to death. I raise all of these points, however, to show that this image does not encourage a singular, simplistic reading. It is complex, just as sexuality itself is complex especially when you consider all its forms.

Ultimately, the images in the Sex Series promote the belief that sex, while usually a private act, is an ordinary part of life for most people. At the same time, sex can be a complex act that embodies a range of pleasures and fears, purposes and motivations. Placed within the context of Wojnarowicz's work in general, I see this series as arguing for the need to acknowledge this complexity and engage with it in public discourse. Otherwise, people of all sexualities and genders will continue not just to die from HIV but to feel the range of negative effects that result from seeing sex through a shroud of shame, secrecy, and fear.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Ready for a Road Trip

June 2009 Road Trip

The list of songs above is for the CD I just burned, something I plan to have going in the car as I hit the highway tomorrow for a six-hour drive to Pennsylvania. The important thing about a road-trip CD for when I'm driving alone is that it must contain songs that embody the maximum potential for singing as loud and long as possible. I admit that this CD looks a lot like a current playlist for your typical top-40 radio station. In fact, the other day I was driving to campus and heard four of these songs right in a row. But, hey, that's what's getting me singing and car dancing (shoulder movements and hand gestures).

I'm off to State College for the Rhetoric Society of America's seminar on Visual Rhetoric: Photojournalism and Public Culture. The readings look great, as you can see on the website, and I'm looking forward to it. It should be quite a switch from my time at NYU last week. First of all, that was in a loud, crowded city, and this is in central Pennsylvania surrounded by trees and mountains. At NYU, the attendees all taught at smaller, teaching-intensive schools where I, at 3/3, had one of the smallest teaching loads of everyone there. Scanning the emails of participants at this week's seminar, I'll be surrounded by people from much larger, research schools. I think I'll be from the smallest school there. And I stayed in a dorm at NYU where I had to bring my own sheets and towels and did not have any internet or other media outlets in the room except what I brought with me. And in PA, I'll be in staying at a major hotel chain with television, internet, and daily maid service. And I stayed at NYU for free, while paying for RSA on my own. But none of this is a negative about either place or workshop. It's just another time where I'm living in liminal space, which I've grown to love.

All that said, I am looking forward to July, when I will have much, much more time to myself. Still, I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow's drive. I'll be the freaky guy singing and dancing by himself on the Pennsylvnia Turnpike.