At the Yoga Studio

I had just finished changing after class, and was gathering my things to leave, when a youngish woman sitting on one of the benches in the little reception area, who had also been in class, asked me something about the tote bag I was carrying, which had the logo of a professional organization of college teachers. That led us into a conversation about how we were both adjunct professors at different branches of Big City University. We exchanged a few comments about the never-ending task of grading papers and about people we both know--it turned out she was an alum of the MFA program at the place where I now teach.

At some point her adorable eight-year-old daughter, who had been flitting about exploring the small space--the two of them were waiting for an event, an evening of chanting in Sanskrit with music, that would start a little bit later--came and sat down next to her. The mom, like me, was white--her daughter, African-American. The daughter, cuddled up next to her mom, listened to us chatting and joking around for a minute. Then she announced, "You two are the same."

Her mom, I'll call her MFA Mom, said, "Oh? How are we the same?"

We both looked at her daughter expectantly.

Cute Daughter thought for a minute, and said, "Well, you are both professors."

I said, "Yes, that's true. And, we're both really tired after yoga class." MFA Mom laughed and said, "Yeah, that was a hard class."

I pointed to my hair, thinking about how MFA Mom and I had similar hair color.

"Yes, you both have pony tails," Cute Daughter said. She added, "And you both have cowlicks."

Her mom reproved her a little bit. "I don't think it's polite to talk about other people's cowlicks." We were both laughing, though, as we compared notes about little pieces of our hair that tend to stick up in front.

Cute Daughter was still studying us for similarities. Suddenly she announced, "You're both modern."

This REALLY made us laugh. "Modern?" MFA Mom said. "Really? I think of myself more as a Luddite."

"And," Cute Daughter ended triumphantly, "you laugh at the same jokes."

What's New

There's been nothing but turmoil lately, it seems. Nothing life-threatening or anything like that, but some changes are happening in my professional life that have necessitated dusting off the old resume and getting it out there. I've been writing letters, making contacts, sending out writing samples, getting people to update their recommendation letters. All of this is somewhat exhilarating, somewhat scary, and definitely exhausting. While this is going on, I have been making my best effort to keep up with my teaching obligations (the teaching part of my career, which is a part-time gig, has fortunately not been affected by this turmoil). My long-suffering students did not blink an eye when I handed back their midterms only this week (the next-to-last week of the semester). I have two more sets of papers to grade this weekend that I hope to get back to them by Wednesday, the last day of class.

Also ongoing is the strand of worry and uncertainty about my father's situation. My father is 89 and lives alone, with the help of home care attendants who take care of him from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. every day. But his mobility is very limited and at night he is alone and prone to falling. This happened last night--he has one of those alarm buttons that he can press so the parademics came and picked him up and fortunately he was not seriously hurt. Still, it is worrisome to my sister and me that this happens, and so we keep wondering, is it time for the nursing home? Not just because he would be safer, presumably, but also less lonely.

And we would worry less. The other night, Wednesday night, I was teaching my class and a cell phone went off. I looked around, but I kind of knew immediately it was mine. Very embarrassing. I fished it out out of my bag, saw that my sister was calling, and said, "My sister. She should know better!" Everyone laughed. But then there was the beeping when she left a message, and when she sent a text a couple of seconds later. I was convinced that something must have happened with my father, if she was trying so hard to reach me when she knew I was in class. A couple of students stayed after class to talk to me about their research papers, but I had to ask them to excuse me while I listened to my sister's message, which, it turned out, was to let me know she was in the neighborhood having dinner with a friend and perhaps we could meet and take the subway back to Brooklyn together, if I was just finishing my class. That was a relief, but it took a little while for the adrenalin to subside.

So, there is a lot of tension and worry about various things. But, what I really am trying to get to is that, despite all the worry and tension, it is the weekend now, it is Saturday and I have that feeling of relief, of having fetched up on the rocks, with a calm and serene afternoon stretching ahead of me. I have grading to do, yes, but perhaps I will play the piano or go to a yoga class as well. And cook something for dinner. I have done as much as I can about the career issue right at this moment, made some deadlines for applications for various things, and now I can take a break, for a few days at least. And my teaching is ending next week for the summer, which will be a welcome break, much as I love it.

So that's my news. Will try to keep in better touch. Hope you are all thriving.