Protesting

Before I dive in, a few clarifying words - this is not a debate. This is not intended to convince or convict. Smarter, more informed people than I have already undertaken that role. Here are a couple articles along those lines (with links to more articles in those).

http://www.nytimes.com/2015/07/26/opinion/sunday/ross-douthat-looking-away-from-abortion.html

http://douthat.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/08/05/there-is-no-pro-life-case-for-planned-parenthood/?_r=0

http://thefederalist.com/2013/10/29/surprising-ingredient-pro-life-culture/

 

This is no more than a reflection on my current thoughts and experience. I may write more later, or I may not.

I struggle with cynicism and a sense of futility. I was not surprised to hear that Planned Parenthood sold fetal organs. I assumed that they did, and that everyone knew that they did. I thought that people didn't care.

I went to my first pro-life protest today.

Standing on the sidewalk, watching the people, listening to what they had to say, left me isolated. The group is fractured. Many people focus on the current conflict, but there are still signs about other issues, more vaporous ones.

I'm skeptical of protests. I don't know what they do.

Can I communicate anything real by standing there? I refused to hold any of the signs. Some of the signs were very problematic. "Baby lives matter." Yes, absolutely, but is usurping another issue's rallying cry the right approach?

My friend told me that I have too high of a standard for public rhetoric, and maybe I do. But to join in a protest is to join in support of that rhetoric. Can I stand with a group when I agree with only part of what they're saying? My God is not a jukebox that I can feed prayer into - prayer that is "supercharged by fasting" - in order to accomplish things. Can I stand next to a man with a megaphone as he proclaims that view and justify it by saying that we are united in purpose?

Lines of people fill either side of the street, holding neon-coloured signs. It's a quiet and subdued group, none of the yelling I feared. There is only one sign with graphic abortion images. There are a few scattered Spanish signs, and a Lady of Guadalupe flag. There is no Planned Parenthood presence other than two bored security guards who do nothing more than make sure the driveway and sidewalk leading up to the front door remains clear. Everyone seems very friendly, and I relax. If standing on the sidewalk is sufficient to proclaim that I stand against the killing and selling of people, then I can do that.

Then two young women approached Planned Parenthood. The mood shifted. The old Catholic lady a few feet away from me threw holy water on them.

I flinched.

That's not the message I wanted to support.

Walking away at the end of the protest, I still mulled over many things. And will continue to do so. I think people care - not all of them, but more than I thought. But some people don't care enough. And some people don't know how to care. And some people feel trapped behind the signs and the holy water, not knowing how to approach the real problem, how to cut across the binary of disagreement in an act of love.

Quick Update

I survived my first PhD year. Many things happened. I have many unpublished blog posts, but I'm told those don't actually count, so we'll see what happens there.

Back at Barakel for the summer. It's warm, delightful, and I haven't had any ticks yet. The summer staff workshop starts this Tuesday, so people are beginning to trickle in and settle into their prep work. Zipline training is underway, and the rest of the leadership team arrives tomorrow.

It will undoubtedly be a busy summer. I'm excited, and looking forward to seeing what happens.

A brief update . . .

The winter of soups is still ongoing. I've moved away from following recipes, because that currently requires too much forethought. The good news is that I'm apparently quite good at throwing random things into a pot and having soup come out. The other good news is that B has gifted me chili deliciousness for after my cold walk home tonight.

I don't know if you've heard, but it's winter, and that means that it is a mite chilly outside. I am surviving it. Every day I'm grateful that I do not have to pay the heating bill for my apartment. Most days I'm grateful for a warm, purring beast curled up next to me while I grade.

Grading has been ongoing, and is finally completed for the first unit. It's now time to turn my attention to all of the writing I'm supposed to be doing. There is a week and a half until spring break (and the next round of grading), and I need to make decisions, write abstracts, and finally finish reading that Agatha Christie book I started in December.

My schedule is on the insane side this semester (as you know, if you've tried to reach me at any time). Staying busy is good, right?

Merry Christmas!

Christmas break has come and gone. I enjoyed working at Zingerman's. It's odd to get a paycheck with hours on it. It's very different to go home from a job and not have to think about it any more. There are some definite perks to working in a non-academic setting.

After my bakery time was over, I spent time with my family, had the flu, and visited my fairy godchildren. Amanda and I froze in Rochester, looking at the lights. Good times. 

But, I'm back in Milwaukee, and the first week has gone well.

This post is neither lengthy, nor very informative. Apologies. Perhaps the next one will contain a bit more verve.

A Winter of Soups #3

The latest soup is a smashing success. I cannot take any credit for this one. I followed a recipe (despite having claimed to learn that recipes are evil after the parsnip soup disaster). I found the recipe on a site called Molly's Soup Blog (http://mollyssoupblog.com/?p=92) and it is now solidly a cataloged as one of my winter go-to dishes. 

I had some doubts as I began to prepare this soup - African Sweet Potato and Black Bean. It seemed to be entirely composed of things I didn't much like (sweet potato and black beans being among those things). However, the smell was delicious. The taste was even better. I'm on day three of eating this soup - it made quite a bit for one person - and not tired of it yet (which is good, because I still have a lot). I gave some to my partner in crime, as a thank you for the loan of his pot (which I still have not returned), and he has given his stamp of approval as well.

Classes continue to stampede forward. It's the time of the semester when I'm trying desperately to motivate myself to write and get some drafts finished early enough to actually make them good before the deadline.

The latest minor triumph is that I have successfully had my section changed from its location in the Gym to a new location in an actual classroom building. This is more convenient for me, for my students, and for actual teaching.

Two weeks until Thanksgiving.

A Winter of Soups #2

Parsnips are an underrated vegetable.

I actually used a recipe this time.

It was . . . not great.

Lesson learned? Don't bother with recipes?

A Winter of Soups #1

Those of you who know me well may be aware of my distant relationship with soup. I've never been able to quite convince myself that I love soup, even though I've eaten several delicious soups. This winter, I have determined to give soup a fighting chance to win me over. Of course, I promptly undermined soup by not using an actual recipe.

Curried Carrot and Chicken Soup

Carrots (un pound-ish)
Chicken broth (2 cups? 3?)
Curry spice blend (tablespoonish)
Chicken (two bits)

Basically, I simmered the carrots in the broth until they were squishtaculent. Then I blended in the blender (a bit at a time) until mushdelicisauce. This is where the broth number gets lost, because I added more at this point to help with the blend process.

Once I had the base finedandy, I plunked in the chicken, let it simmer a smidge. Then I added the curry powder and some carrot chunks for texturelation. Simmer till awesome.

Still delicious. Earned the JB stamp of approval. Next time, I'm dreaming of something with parsnips.