Tornado warning

I know I like to point out things that are different, odd, or just plain annoying about life in the south. I like to whine about scary bugs and plants, the way people talk, how long it takes to get anything done around here, and the crazy bumper stickers put on their cars. But on the whole I would argue that that was all there was to worry about down here: innocuous nuisances.

Until yesterday anyway. As I had just started on my 90 mile-drive home, both my husband and a friend called me at the same time to let me know there was a tornado warning in effect in our town. Not a watch, where the “conditions” are right, but an actual real-live warning. As in, someone somewhere has seen a tornado race around. And mind you, this was not in the big semi-city that includes the base, the mall, and endless subdivisions, no, it had been limited to the little bitty unincorporated hamlet that sits south of all of this. The one where we live. We’re talking an area of maybe ten square miles, where circular winds had been sighted, and all they were doing was waiting for the funnel cloud to hit the ground. Great.

Now slap me upside the head and call me an idiot, but as far as I know, we did not move to Kansas, and our dog is not called Toto. Our neck of the woods has a lot of bad things (poison ivy! Poisonous snakes! Confederate flag-waving rednecks!), but tornadoes are technically not one of them. Well, was I ever wrong. As I was on the phone with husband-dear who was also on his way home, he could see black circular clouds swirling around overhead. As he got closer to home, he told me they were converged right over our neighborhood, and were coming closer and closer to the ground. It was not pretty, and apparently he has never covered the eight miles from base to our home that fast.

While I’m hearing all of this, I’m driving down a sunny interstate, with not a cloud in sight, wondering if my house and family will still be there when I get home. The boys had hidden in our walk-in closet with Zoe, and closed and barricaded the door. They assured me over the phone that they “had it under control”, and knew exactly what to do. But when they said they had to hang up because they now had to put their hands over their heads as they had learned in school, momma felt anything but reassured.

I’ve often cursed my endless commute, but nothing like yesterday. I wanted to fly down the highway, but decided that the last thing anyone needed was a speeding ticket or worse. So all I could do was hope and pray things would be alright. And fortunately, the circular clouds decided to stay up above the ground. When my husband called me half an hour later, they were all standing on the back porch, admiring the second (!) circle of clouds and winds passing right next to our house.

That little experience took at least two years off my life, and makes me yearn for little nuisances like cockroaches and yellow flies, and people who can’t say “no”. Now excuse me while I go and enjoy a good luck at the truck with the confederate flag on it parked, I’m sure, not too far from here.

Southern what?

First of all, I would like to apologize to my dog. Because there is, as usual, something I need to get off my chest, her picture will no longer be at the top of the page. And that is something that warrants a heartfelt apology. So sorry doggy!

Anyway. I have a confession to make. I'm not big on pride. I don't mean that I can't be proud of people around me; husband, kids, students, because I can be. I also don't mean that I don't like where I live or where I'm from, just not in a "my child is an honor student" bumper sticker, Air Force tag or "God bless America" ribbon on my car sort of way. I show my pride in a subdued kind of way. If I'm proud of you, you'll know it, but please don't ask me to honor you on my car, on my clothes, or with flags waving in my yard on regular non-special days.

I realize that I'm definitely not the norm in this part of the world. Here people genuinely like to show their pride, and support for each cause, and person, they feel attached to. I think it's great. Sometimes I wish I could be more like that. I mean, it took me two days of agonizing before I decided to post pictures of the best puppy in the world on my blog. I love living in a state where a lot of people seem to think that an inch of visible paint on their car is wasted space. Honestly, I get a kick out driving behind people whose car allows me to figure out they're retired military (the tag), served in the Vietnam war (the "Proud to be a Vietnam vet!" bumper sticker), support the Democrats (an "Obama 08" magnet) and the troops (the famous yellow ribbon), and believe in God (although the "I am proud to serve a Jewish carpenter" sticker did throw me for a loop there for a moment).

But there are some forms of pride that I'm not too sure of. Like the two bumper stickers I saw just yesterday, both of which featured the confederate flag. One of them read: "Welcome to Dixie. If you don't like our flag, leave", and the other one said"No matter how hard they try, this flag will never die".

Now I realize that some southerners view the confederate flag as a way to show southern pride. And sure, there is no reason why someone shouldn't be proud of the place they come from. I mean, the south has produced some wonderful writers, politicians, artists, some of the tastiest food around, and heck, where would we be without front porches and sweet tea? Very stressed out probably. But I'm not sure I would express this pride using a symbol that, well, many people associate with, well, the losing side in the civil war. And now I know that there will be southerners who will tell me that they don't mean that when they wave their flag, and everyone just needs to understand that, but you know what, I'm not sure I agree with that anymore.

You see, I have another confession to make. I used to be very much a "live and let live" kind of person. And in some ways I still am. If you want to do something, and it doesn't hurt anyone else, go for it. I may think you're a freak, but by all means, go for it. I mean, what do I know.

But having taught at an HBCU for the past year has really opened my eyes, and made it clear that although some things are OK, others very clearly are not. And the confederate flag would be one of them. My students, who are all African American, tell me that that flag to them symbolizes everything that the south can not, and should not be proud of; its history of slavery, the civil war it started, and its attempts to halt the civil rights movement. I've had students tell me that when they have to interact with people who display the confederate flag, they are truly afraid of their lives. If a flag holds such negative connotations to a large group of people who have had enough wrong done to them, why keep flying it? Why keep claiming that they "just don't get it"? If something doesn't work to making a society a more cohesive unity, all it does it pull it further apart. And with all due respect to all the white southerners who are not racists, but I think that that is the last thing we need here in the deep south.

So I suggest we all pull together to design a new way to express southern pride. Maybe a bumper sticker that reads "You may be a Yankee, but at least I'm nice", or "Sunny all year round!", or little cherry blossom magnets, or pictures of sweet tea with the words "Have y'all had your fix today?". You bet I won't be putting any of those on my car, but y' all will know I'm just secretly proud:)

It's a doggy dog world

Just because I think my puppy is the cutest dog in the world, I felt the burning desire to share some pictures with y'all.


Everybody, meet Zoe. Zoe, meet everybody. This was a few hours after we picked her up.




When Zoe gets tired, she will fall asleep pretty much anywhere. She particularly likes sitting on my laptop right after I turned it off. She may have also felt that there was no reason for mommy to work after she had just spent over twelve hours away from home. And she is right.


And sometimes when mommy gets home from work and is tired, she and Zoe will fall asleep together. The downside is that a seven pound puppy takes up a lot less room in the kitchen than a full-grown woman.


Have a barkin' weekend!

De eerste loodjes

De eerste week van colleges is bijna voorbij, en veel meer dan een zwak “joepie!”komt er op dit moment niet meer uit. Als ik morgen alvast meetel, dan heb ik 13 colleges gegegeven, zo’n pak en beet twintig studenten advies gegeven over hun “drop and add”, één vergadering bijgewoond, vijftien uur in de auto gezeten, en gemiddeld zes uur per nacht geslapen. Oh ja, en een de puppie getracht op te voeden. Maar afgezien van het feit dat de Red Bulls nu echt op zijn, en ik nog een dag moet werken, ga ik niet klagen. Ik heb volgens mij enorme wallen onder mijn ogen, en mijn haar heeft ook wel eens betere dagen gekend, maar het gevoel om weer helemaal terug te zijn is geweldig.

Zo heb ik weer ruim drie uur de tijd om naar (on)zinnige nieuws achtergronden te luisteren op NPR. Zo ben ik dus weer helemaal bij wat betreft de geschiedenis van de Praagse Lente, de grant die een medical college in Georgia binnen heeft gehaald, en Obama’s laatste uitspraken. Ook kan ik eindelijk weer zien hoe het katoen in de velden langs de weg gegroeid is. Ook zijn enkele schuurtjes nu echt veranderd in “shacks”, terwijl sommige shacks van vorig jaar echt helemaal ingestort of soms zelfs verdwenen zijn. Tot mijn grote vreugde staat Bryce’s BBQ shack er ook nog steeds, compleet met drie enorme grills voor de deur. En dit jaar ga ik echt een keer ribs op halen om mee naar huis te nemen.

Ook zijn de studenten nog voor geen steek veranderd. Gelukkig. Ze komen er nog steeds op het laatste moment achter dat ze zich nog “even” moeten inschrijven voor een bepaald vak, en vergeten het meteen wanneer ik een quiz ovr de syllabus aankondig. Ze mopperen nog steeds als ik uitleg dat ze echt twee papers voor mijn vak moeten schrijven, en spelen het in de eerste week al klaar om te laat te komen. Ook zijn er nog altijd de studenten die je komen vertellen over hun grote plannen; terwijl anderen je vol trots komen vertellen dat ze al een baan hebben terwijl ze nog niet afgestudeerd zijn. Ook zijn er weer freshmen die het allemaal maar heel erg eng vinden, en om de haverklap langskomen voor advies over computers, bijbaantjes, en wat te doen als een docent om een “personal essay” vraagt. En vandaag nam een student van mij onverwachts een vriendin mee naar een van mijn colleges. Achteraf vertelde ze dat het meisje op haar 16^e met school gestopt was, en nu helemaal geen zin meer had om ooit nog terug te gaan. Mijn student wilde haar overtuigen dat studeren toch ook heel leuk kon zijn, en had haar dus meegenomen om een van mijn lessen bij te wonen. Het meisje had het geweldig gevonden. Op zulk soort momenten, die altijd net plaatsvinden wanneer ik zo moe ben dat ik bijna de trap naar mijn kantoor niet meer op kom, herinner ik me altijd weer waarom ik lesgeef.

Kortom, ondanks de wallen, het huishouden dat nu echt achterloopt, en het feit dat ik van het weekend zeker twaalf uur wil slapen, is het goed om weer terug te zijn.

Princess Zoe

I know I dish out a lot of semi-important advice in my blog, but after two sleepless nights, please take it from me that if you're hesitant about acquiring a dog, make sure you avoid your local PetSmart on those infamous "adoption days". Because unless you have a true heart of stone, there is no way you can walk away without one of their cute and fluffy puppies. I thought I could, which is why I agreed to accompany my husband to just "look" at some of the animals the local shelters had brought in this time. However, the black furry proof that I was wrong is currently asleep in her crate in our bedroom.

Yes, we are now the proud owners of a 9 or 10 week old mutt named Zoe. We're not sure how old she is, or even what kind of dogs her parents were, because Zoe was abandoned. She and her brother were found in a box by an animal control officer and brought to one of our local shelters. It's a sad story, and it's even sadder when you realize that all the tens of animals that are at the adoption days have similar stories, as do the hundreds still in the shelters. Some dogs are brought in hurt, like the little chihuaha mix nicknamed "Gimpy". Gimpy couldn't walk properly because his owners had let his broken leg heal improperly before abandoning him. He was now waiting until enough money had been donated so he could have surgery to fix his leg. Others have been taken away from careless owners, while others are found in plastic bags alongside the road.

See, I told you, all those stories combined with the big brown eyes, wagging tails, and fuzzy puppy scent is enough to melt anybody's "inner mother". So as of Monday, we are the proud parents of our own little lab/husky/something vague princess. While timid and shy at first, she has now completely taken over our house. No one's feet are safe from her nibbling, shoes are meant to sleep on, kibble definitely needs to be eaten (and left) all throughout the kitchen, balls are always meant to be thrown, and don't count on sleeping when little miss princess feels lonely. Our house training program is in full swing, but there's no need to carry out any effectivity studies yet, I'd rather you go out and replenish our stock of Lysol Wipes. And we're not sure if this is an effect of her being abandoned, but don't think you can have some quiet alone time; where you go, Zoe will go too. Whether it's the bathroom, the laundry room, or your car, Zoe has to be there. Oh yes, and please don't read magazines when you could just as well spend your time playing tug of war with her favorite purple ring. I mean, please. Yesterday, our new family addition discovered Gertie, our guinneapig who has had little peace since. We've thus decided that a "meet your fellow pets" orientation is probably in order this weekend. Fortunately little puppies need a lot of naps, and Zoe is no different. She will get tired, wobble on her skinny little legs, and lie down wherever and whenever she is tired. She's fallen asleep with her face inside a shoe, with her nose up against the stove, and in front of wherever we happen to be sitting.

She's great, she's funny, she's exhausting, she's sweet, she's stubborn, and we wouldn't trade our little princess for the world. Pictures will follow as soon as she leaves me enough time at the computer without threatening to either get tangled in all the cords or chew on them.

On mothers and dogs

Sooner or later, we all start acting, at least in part, like our mothers. Now I love my mother dearly, and would not trade her for anyone else, but there are some things that she would do, that I promised I would stay away from. Very, very far away. It included things like rhubarb, loafers, and certain phrases. Although I haven't eaten rhubarb in decades, and almost always wear heels, I can't say that I kept my promise regarding some of her beloved sayings. Don't you ever catch yourself saying something, and then hear your mother say the exact same thing decades earlier? It happens to me on a more than regular basis. I have found myself saying things like; "Do I look like your maid?" to my boys, while I vowed I would never resort to such passive aggressive responses, and instead voice my frustration straight out. Or I hear myself sighing deeply in the same way my mother used to that would not only drive me insane, but also have me exclaim at her that if there was a problem, she should just say so. And if I' m really angry, I will totally go into mother mode, and snap that there is absolutely nothing wrong. Although it may be normal, it´s not pretty.

But the past few weeks, I've found that I've turned into my mother in more ways than I could have ever imagined. You see, when my brother and I grew up, we wanted a dog. We wanted it so badly, we would create wish lists for Christmas and birthdays that started with a page of all the different kinds of dogs we wanted, and then the other presents, and a caveat that if we could have a dog, we would forego of our other wishes. But my mother wasn't exactly in favor of a dog. We had rabbits, guinneapigs, fish, and birds, but up until that magical day in 5th grade, we did not have a dog. My mother did eventually cave in, and loved our dog as much, if not more, than we did. And I vowed that once I moved out, I would always have a dog, and never worry about things like ruined carpets, long walks in the rain, and vet's visits.

However, things did not quite play out that way, and up until this summer, we were never allowed to own a dog. When we finally bought our own home, the opportunity was finally there, and husband-dear and the boys couldn't wait to go and get a puppy. But that's where the "mother" in me reared her head, and found herself saying things like "But we work all day", and "Who will walk the dog in the rain", and "we've just bought brand new rugs, what if she ruins them?". In short, I was a carbon copy of my mother years and years ago. I'm not quite sure how or where that happened, but suddenly, I understand my mother's hesitation.

My family has been begging me to go to adoption day at PetSmart with them, but, like my mother, I have refused. I know that when I see all those little puppies, I will want to take all of them home, and then where would we be. I know, stuck with twenty puppies for a decade and a half. I know I want a puppy, and I know we'll get one soon..but I need to reason with my inner mother first.

The first one: Welcome to reality

*This is a speech I give to the student starting their first class in the Mass Communication major: Comm 2001

For most of you this should be the first class you’re taking within your major, so allow me to say Welcome to Mass Communication, and congratulations. Congratulations on having made it this far; making it not only into college, but surviving your first few semesters. You are about to enter one of the most exciting, most dynamic, and most demanding fields that exist.

Working in a mass media related field means you need to constantly be ahead of your game, not only in terms of skills and knowledge; you also need to want to be the best if you want to succeed. Our program here reflects that culture. We will make sure you have the skills and knowledge you need, but we also expect our students to constantly improve and give their very best. Only then will you be able to pass and be successful.

Let’s cut to the chase, our classes are tough. If you picked mass communication hoping to fly through college, you need to sit down and re-think your plans. We expect our students to perform well in many different fields: writing papers, carrying out research, handling technical equipment, writing scripts, newspaper articles, and directing a television show or film. You are not only expected to be able to do all this with all your heart, you are also expected to be able to do all this at the same time. All of our classes have various theoretical and practical assignments, and yes, sometimes you will have to carry out several at the same time. We don’t get together and fine tune our schedules so you all will have as little stress as possible. Each class is an independent unit that is set up to prepare you in the best possible way for your future. And if that means that you have a research paper due in my class, a script for a public service announcement in Dr. J's class, and footage for Dr. A due all in the same week, you work with it. It is what is. We do not make exceptions, we will not accept late work, and sloppy work is simply unacceptable.

Now we don’t act this way because we don’t like you or because we want to make your life miserable. No, this is what the industry expects of you, and it is our job to prepare you for that in the best possible way. If you want to succeed in anything related to the media, be it television or radio broadcasting, journalism, or research, you need to not only have all the required skills, you also need to know what you’re doing, have a critical attitude, and be prepared to outrun, outwork, out-know, and out-skill all of your competition. So don’t ever think that our classes are too hard, or too demanding; what you do here is merely a mirror of what you will be asked to do in the outside world. Get used to it, ‘cause this is what it’s going to be like from now on.

Now the good news is that you are all capable of being successful. Every single one of you has the ability to pass this class with flying colors, and do well in all of your other courses here too. You proved that by making it this far. However, not all of you will be successful. Unfortunately, past experience has shown us that not all of you sitting here today will pass this class, or even walk across the stage and receive your degree. This is not because of our program. This is not because our classes are too tough. This is not because we’re not always nice and cuddly. This is because of your attitude.

Your attitude is what will make the difference between success and failure in this program. If you want to play, and party, and leave writing papers, scripts, articles, studying, or shooting footage until the last moment because your sorority had rush, or your roommate had a really great party, or you really wanted to go home, I can guarantee you, you will not succeed. If you want to coast through, doing the bare minimum, not reading your assignments, copying your work from the Internet, using other people’s work to write your pieces, complaining the whole way, you will not succeed.

This is your job now. We need to be your first priority when you get up in the morning, and the last thing you think about before you go to bed. If you’re not having nightmares about my classes, or hearing Dr. A's voice in your heads, you’re not doing things right. I know that it’s cool to not study, and write papers 4am before they’re due. I know the hip thing to do is to complain and whine, but you know what, that kind of attitude needs to go now. You’re not longer in high school, where you can brush things off as unimportant, or your parents can help you out. You are in college now, where everything matters. You are all adults, and you need to realize that from this moment on, you are the only one responsible for your life, your success, your future. You hold sole accountability for what happens from this moment on. If you mess up, don’t blame anyone but yourself. If you do well, don’t thank anyone but yourself. If you get an A in my class, you have earned it yourself. If you fail, you have deserved that yourself. It’s all your call now.

You can be very successful. I have seen students blossom, in just one year. I've seen a student go from someone whose writing was shaky and attitude less than perfect, to someone who did so well at their newspaper internship they were offered a job while still in college. I have seen students put in hours and hours into their research projects, and get into graduate school, to hopefully, one day, teach young people like you. It is all possible. It’s all in you. It’s all up to you.

With each class, I hope that they will make me proud to be their teacher. It’s no different today – make me proud of you guys.