How to make a blog...

..go from a really cute story about the south, to a rant.
Watch.

I don't know if it's a southern thing, or All-American, but down here, when children get into trouble, their parents like to refer to them with their full names. So, if one's little cherub has once again run off to play without first helping with the dishes, it's not completely uncommon to see a peeved parent appear on the front porch and holler, "Ashley Jane Johnson, you come right now!". Or if the child is truly southern, one might hear, "Jenna-Sue Lynn, git your little bee-hind back up heah right this instant, ya hear?".

At first, this phenomenon used to have me in stitches. I couldn't imagine my mother ever using my full name, let alone her yelling it down the street. No, my mother had "The Look", and that was all it took for us to come cowering back. But you know, you live, you learn, you adjust, and it wasn't before long when I find myself addressing my kids with their full names too; "Ozzie Axl Van Halen! You stop picking on your brother!", or something like that. I even do it with our dogs, although their middle names may vary. Yesterday, Shelby was "Shelby Mathilda", but she has also been "Shelby Jade" while Zoe varies from "Zoe Elizabeth" to "Zoe Lynn". Anyway, let's just say I get a little carried away sometimes.

But you know what? It really works. Both kids and dogs desist whatever mischief they were engaged in, and give you the biggest puppy-eyed look in the world, usually (at least in the kids' case), followed by a "yes ma'am". And every time that happens, even though I'm delighted it worked, I also feel really old. I mean, when you're old enough to yell out kids' middle names, and be called "ma'am" to boot, you've got to be old. And I usually don't feel that way. Actually, I hardly ever do.

You see, in my head we're stuck in the mid-1990s. It used to be worse, we used to be stuck in the late 1980s, but as ALL of my darling students are now born in, at the earliest, 1989, my whole "Woohoo, it's 1987 and skinny pants are hip for the first time around" attitude really wasn't working, as in 1987, most of my students were nothing but a glint in someone's eye. So I quietly shifted my mental age just a few years, enough for my students to be toddlers or so. It still makes no sense, but I just can't bring myself to move much beyond, say, 1993.

Consequently, I usually don't see myself as educated, experienced, or anything but really young. And this in turn means that even though I think I can say that I clearly am the first two, and don't really qualify as the first one anymore, I still assume most people are older, more education, and thus more knowledgeable than I am. And as a result, I will generally defer to most professional adults. Not in a creepy Uriah Heep submissive way, but in a "well, you present your case so adamantly, and you are older and wiser than I am, so OK."

But yesterday, all that changed. It's no longer 1987 or 1993, and I am no longer a young kid who doesn't know anything. It's 2010, I have my PhD, am a Professor, and am old enough to have sales associates ask me if I'm interested in their anti-aging line, and hence I am turning a new leaf.

Why this sudden change? Well, yesterday I had the pleasure of testifying at a disciplinary hearing regarding one our students. I won't bore you with all the details, but the bottom line is that the department and the review board disagreed on the disciplinary actions that should be taken. And even though the presence of three senior Professors (as well as two students), would normally have had me nod my head and seriously ask myself why I would think any differently from these older, smarter, and more educated people, this time I would not, could not, give in. Instead, I sat up in my chair, and gave an impassioned, possibly even heated, speech about why I, and my department, was right, and they really needed to change their minds. I think I might have even told the board something to the extent of sometimes someone has to say "the buck stops here", and that this would be an opportune moment to do so. Amazing for someone who's in their teens, isn't it?

So, yes, we have turned a new leaf. I am not some young kid who doesn't know anything. Not anymore. I may listen to music from 1987, I might even possibly own some clothing from 1987, but we're not in 1987 anymore Toto. It's 2010 and Dorothy, excuse me, Dr. Dorothy, is all grown up. Ha!