my harvard

migrating

2010-07-03T16:24:00.002-04:00

also, I've decided to change over to wordpress for this blog (same name, different hosting site). I'm using wordpress for my other blogs and the format is just SO much nicer.

Iphone Apps

2010-07-03T15:53:00.003-04:00

So I now have three blogs. Strange. Although two of them are private, and really just blogs in the sense that I am using the blogging software for my own purposes (having been frustrated for years with the design of journaling software, I finally realized a private blog would be malleable in the way that I had always sought). But all that private space means that I can pare down what I'm doing in this arena: and I would like to characterize it as musings on evolution, religion and particularly the public manifestations of both these things. And since this blog is a fundamentally public thing, I hope it will help me to be courageous with my thoughts in these arenas. Because what's the use of academia unless we actually care a little bit about knowledge, truth, and understanding? Even as we question the possibility of attaining any of those things, I hope that my venture into this world is something beyond self-satisfied professionalizing. That's not to say that I won't be circumspect (as I realized when writing on the book edited by Jared Diamond, that I had the opportunity to do a book review for). The written word is a powerful and sometimes damning thing. And I'm not nearly so naive as to think I don't want to professionalize at least a little.

So, for my first topic in the new vein: this NY times article "You say God is Dead? There's an app for that" Apparently there's an iphone app for EVERYTHING, including how to defend your own (possibly limited and ill-conceived) world view. Apps developed for both Christians and atheists, giving the basic points of debates as well as supposedly good sucker punches for the other side. Now I should say, I haven't looked at the apps, I've just read the article. And actually it's a little silly for me to write about the article, since I very much agreed with the perspective it takes - i.e. that these iPhone apps would be silly if they weren't signs of the deplorable state of religious/scientific/secular debate in the public arena. It's enough to make me want to get strident and upset, except that I want to claim that it's this kind of arrogant narrow-mindedness that's the problem. I really dislike it when anyone views debates over science and religion as some sort of chess match/ boxing tournament. And particularly for Christians, I want to ask- who cares if you come up with a way to be a better debater, to feel confident that your faith is just as rational and reasonable if not more so than an atheistic world view? Making yourself RIGHT doesn't get what you actually want, which is to change hearts and minds. Of course I think that thoughtful, intellectual and informed conversations are a good no matter the topic. But framing the way that these iphone apps put forward makes the conversation cheaper and pettier than it actually is. These are conversations about who and what we are- how we should one another, how we confer worth on other people, whether we should treat other people with respect and dignity, and what that looks like. It's a big deal, and we treat it like a children's recess game.

Ok, so I'm ranting. This sort of thing really bothers me. But bothers me mostly because I find that I have a hard time articulating a good alternative. Really at the end of the day, I wish more people understood history- of these debates, but just in general. History makes us humble, I think. (It's also a little depressing because you spend so much time with dead people, but that's another topic).

religion without revelation

2010-04-12T11:49:00.002-04:00

No, the title of this post is not a thought I am having, but a book that I am reading (in the ever more dissolute quest for a dissertation topic that is at once fulfilling as it is intelligible to someone other than myself). I came across this quote in the preface, and it seemed to me one of the more accurate descriptions of religious experience/ belief that I've come across. (And yes, I realize that experience and belief are two different things)

"Religion, like love, develops and harmonizes our rarest and most extravagant emotions. It exalts us above the commonplace routine of our daily life, and it makes us supreme over the world. But, like love also, it is a little ridiculous to those who are unable to experience it. And since they can survive quite well without experiencing it, let them be thankful, as we also are thankful." Havelock Ellis

I think the analogy is quite a good one...

third time's - a charm, right?

2010-03-13T20:36:00.003-05:00

Book: Natural Experiments of History ed by Jared Diamond

This is the third post that I've started in the past 20 minutes. The first was about blogging itself. The second was a reflection about disciplinary boundaries as prompted by my current book: Natural Experiments of History. Then I decided it was probably unprofessional to discuss a book that I'm reviewing for an academic journal on an online blog - no matter how unlikely it is that anyone will want to find my blog - google searches do strange and wondrous things at times. So I'll save my thoughts for my actual book review.

So where does that leave me in terms of a blog post? Without much. As I keep saying, I like my posts to be idea based, rather than about myself personally. But having spent all day reading this book, the only other interesting things I've interacted with have been NY times articles (which have varied from: misperceptions of Obama, education law reform, book review of the Weismanns of Westport - which I intend to read, issues with for-profit trade schools, etc.) Actually it's been a better day for me news reading wise, than usual - normally I have a talent for finding the least important and most frivolous articles to read. Today I actually went through a couple that relate to something of weight.

Perhaps I shall find inspiration (i.e. get worked up about something) during my upcoming trip to Key Biscayne. It's a developing tradition for us (i.e. women of the history of science) to spend spring break at a beach house, reading by the pool, drinking boxed wine and discussing hist of sci in the most animated and excitable of tones. Punctuated with moments of frivolity along the lines of facebook quiz taking. This year I'm bringing a young man along to this former sanctum of feminine academic bonding. I sincerely hope we don't drive him crazy.

Balance

2010-03-10T00:30:00.002-05:00

Book: Various and sundry, including novels by Kurt Vonnegut, Annie Dillard, Anthony Trollope, a commentary on the cult of purity lent to me by one of my students and a book on manic depression let to me by L. O. Turner. I'm dancing around from book to book, and am hoping to settle on a couple that I'm very excited about in order to start spring break. We'll see, I'm a bit unsettled about my choice right now.

Funny that my thoughts are turning to balancing my life as I am returning to my blog after a month's absence. I try to focus my posts on concepts and issues rather than life reflections (as always to avoid self-indulgent navel gazing), but often it's easier to articulate the vacillations of my own moods than to properly explain a thought that might end in something more interesting. I am starting to have that feeling that I think is common for the middle of a Harvard semester - that I am one of those circus performers who is balancing spinning plates on sticks from all parts of my body. One on my nose, and my knee, and my shoulders, and of course both my hands. It's a strange thing that to feel rooted and connected in a place, we also create a multitude of obligations that can pull us in different directions. It will be a bit of relief (I have to admit) to me when this part of the semester ends, and I can focus on my research come the beginning of summer. I am having one of those rare moments in the ebb and flow of grad school - where my research appears to me to be the most exciting thing I could be doing, and a bit I resent the things that pull me away from it. Research for my dissertation that is. No doubt when it comes time to focus on this and nothing else, I'll resent a whole other set of things. Contrary creatures we are, generally speaking, as people.

In any case, perhaps I will collect myself and have an equally productive and relaxing spring break. Now if only I could pick a couple of pleasure reads to bring with me...

Op-Ed Piece

2010-02-08T20:46:00.002-05:00

It's probably foolish to post this article thinking that I can do justice to the set of issues that it raises. But I like the tone of the piece, and its use of history. I think a lot of Christians can tend to think that boiling down the message of Christianity to something like "God is Love" is some sort of namby-pamby new age cop out. I'm not really sure. I do think that the historicity of the Christian message, of the gospel is important. But what I am sure is that being cautious about judgement, and free with our love for people never took anyone to a place of hatred and violence. And as a historian, I think the point that Christians values on many subjects used to be other than they are (and therefore could easily be different today), is helpful.

Again an instance when the NY times has done a better job of articulating my point for me:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/08/opinion/08lax.html?pagewanted=2

Libraries

2010-02-08T19:18:00.004-05:00

I remembered something today when I went to Raven's Used Books (in search of a new novel, of course)- that I can just go one or two blocks more to Widener, and every book I could possibly imagine will be there. So a collection of what I checked out today for pleasure reading. Clearly I've been a little ambitious:

Rachel Ray by Anthony Trollope

Galapagos by Kurt Vonegut

Teaching a Stone to Talk Annie Dillard

Mornings Like This: Found Poems Annie Dillard

Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil John Berendt

Given: New Poems Wendell Berry

Of course, when I got home I didn't start reading any of these things. Because reading for class has to dominate. And also, I'm putting up curtains. Slightly unsuccessfully. Anyway, the (possible) point of this post is to remark that I've made an attempt to get away from my usual pleasure reading genres (i.e. Victorian and 'nature' writing), but with limited success. I have gotten very good recommendations for more modern fiction, and I have been attempting to branch out a bit, but sometimes reading current fiction is just less pleasant to me than older things. Although my last novel was quite new, and absolutely wonderful: Ella Minnow Pea: A Novel in Letters by Mark Dunn. It was fresh, clever, sweet, short and very thought provoking. Rewarding all the way 'round. Essentially the plot of the novel is this: set on a fictional island of the coast of the US, the island society is devoted to the English language- but when their island 'motto', the famous pangram, "The quick fox jumps over the lazy dog" starts losing its letters, the island council rules that the letters in question have to be stricken from use (either in writing or speech)from the whole island. And so letters progressively drop out of the novel. The prose is meticulously crafted- and as the reader you are very aware of the games the author is playing with the language, but somehow what comes through most is the poignant, even really tragic story of his characters. I enjoyed every moment of it, and was therefore energized to pick out a whole new set of potential new favorites at the library today.

news

2010-02-01T13:35:00.003-05:00

I appreciate it greatly when I find that someone else has articulated a point I want to make better than I can do it myself. For some reason I've recently decided that I need to be more 'informed': which so far has consisted of watching the Daily Show more often, reading the NY times and subscribing to The Atlantic. (I'm taking suggestions on how to do this 'informing' business in a more substantial fashion. This is just my first crack at it) Anyway, point being, while watching the Daily Show's "coverage" of the state of the union address, I was struck by something that the show itself points out often- the over coverage and endless dissection by the news media of any political, or non-political event. Perhaps it's a bit mentally lazy to want this, but it would be nice to be able to have news coverage of an event be something that one could trust. I'm not a political expert, I'm not even a 20th century historian. I'm just one moderately well read grad student with enough time on my hands to become informed on current issues if I so choose. And I find it incredibly confusing and frustrating at times. Maybe the conclusion is that I actually have to read and think about things that go on. Sigh. Anyway this is my point put better by someone on the NY times editorial staff:

"With such an agenda of real news, how one dreaded seeing some ponderous network commentator interrupt the reporters to claim his 90 seconds of air time. There was simply no need to put a scrim of opinion between the viewer and fresh news film.

Today, however, there’s no denying that traditional reportage of political and social trends seems almost as out of date as segregation. Surely the civil rights movement would have been hampered by the politicized, oppositional journalism that flows from Fox News and the cable talk shows. Luckily for the South, that kind of butchered news was left mostly to a few extremist newspapers in Virginia and Mississippi and to local AM radio talk shows that specialized in segregationist rants."

Essentially the article is presenting the imaginary counter factual of- "How would the civil rights movement of the sixties fared in the current media climate?" It's an interesting (if impossible) thing to imagine. (Mostly I think implied historical counterfactuals can never be anything more than entertaining fantasy. How can we suppose the world to be other than it is without everything changing? But this is where I differ from Jared Diamond. More on this later). I think it's an interesting article and worth checking out in its entirety: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/01/opinion/01greensboro.html

I suppose that's its not a new thought (that the overblown nature of the news media runs counter to their suppose purpose- to actually inform the public of anything). But I thought this op-ed piece presented the issue in a fresh way. My conclusion: history is a rather useful thing.

google me, yes!

2010-01-20T11:00:00.003-05:00

Books: Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy AND Nature's Experiments ed. Jared Diamond

I love the digital world. Blogging is probably proof enough of that. When the power cord to my mac was broken mid week and I had to go without the company of my laptop for a whole evening, it felt almost tragic. A sad comment on my life, no doubt (although I'm hoping it has more to do with the quiet darkness of mid winter evenings than any deficiency on my part). I'm thinking about this this morning, because I was trying to recall a poem (I'm not great at remembering whole pieces of verse- mostly because that requires effort, and I'm not putting any work into it). And all I had to do was type a few words into my google search bar and up pops "God's Grandeur" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. One of my favorites, but I couldn't remember that this line belonged to it:

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things

I hope that nature is never spent. And I sincerely hope that I'm never spent either. The poem is a beautiful one- worth looking up and reading in its entirety. So here:

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;	5
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;	10
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

I'm not sure what most environmentalists would think of the message- because if I understand it correctly, it is suggesting that the havoc wreaked upon the earth by humankind will eventually be put to right by God's redemptive action in the world. When put in a certain way, it can seem like a cop out- or an excuse to do whatever we like to the world. (As in, screw up now, it's fine because God will come in and fix everything) Certainly seems at odds to the "No Planet B" slogan, for instance. I can't claim to be an expert on poetry, late Victorian or otherwise (for me, reading poetry is a completely amateur and personal experience)- but I have been rereading this poem for years, and never chosen to think of it as an excuse to not care about the world we're in. I don't think that hope for the future (or for God's action) has to be the same thing as excusing all the terrible things we do to the world and each other. I should think that hope would make us more mindful and careful than otherwise. Perhaps.

st. francis

2010-01-07T11:29:00.003-05:00

My mother sent me a poem this morning, and I particularly liked the last couple lines:

I have come to learn: God adores His creation. - St. Francis of Assissi

My best times in life have almost always been those times when I am reading a great deal of poetry. I should make a point of doing so, soon.

One of the curious things about being in my mid-twenties, I've discovered, is that I so quickly waver between adolescence and adulthood. Mostly I recognize the latter when someone asks me to do something, and my first thought is- really? I'm qualified to do that? I've been thinking that a lot lately, because I'm on a reading committee for fellowship applications (it's for the fellowship that I'm on, actually), and I keep wondering, why on earth I'm qualified to make decisions about whether or not these people will receive thousands of dollars in support for their work. It also gave me the occasion to read over my own application from last year. Which was a good an inspiring way to start the new year. My words about my grad program, and its relationship to my faith are full of purpose, intensity and conviction. Just what I needed to be reminded of as I start a new year.

something you keep

2009-12-07T22:01:00.003-05:00

I've been doing a terribly self-indulgent and sentimental thing for part of this evening (and as usual, NOT what I should be doing, since I have a paper due on Wednesday). In other words, I've been reading one of my old journals- the one I happened to pick up is from the spring of my senior year of college. Despite the fact that I keep a number of my journals around and about, I don't look at them that often. Mostly because I'm trying to remember to write in my current one. But I'm struck by many things all at once when reading through my former musings. The first is that, despite the fact that most of my entries bemoan the fact that I don't write often enough, I write to my journal a lot. I mean, a lot. I'm not quite sure what I think I have to say all the time. Another is that I have the same swirling set of concerns- both spiritual and otherwise. The pages are full of angst over liturgical vs. evangelical church traditions (a thought I'm revisiting lately, by the way. I'm hoping at some point I will stop having a denominational crisis. But it keeps coming up), thoughts about evolution and creation, wondering if I emphasize intellectualism over piety in my mode of faith, etc. And it makes me wonder if all the spinning thoughts ever go anywhere, or if I'll just continue to have variations of them for the rest of my life. I suppose the journal is only from three years ago, so it perhaps isn't so surprising that I would dwell on many of the same issues. Anyway, all this to say that I would like to requote some passages I found while being a research assistant for one of my favorite professors...

From David Hull, the philosopher, "What kind of God can one infer from the sort of phenomena epitomized by the species on Darwin's Galapogos islands? The evolutionary process is rife with happenstance, contingency, incredible waste, death, pain and horror... Whatever the God implied by evolutionary theory and the data of natural selection may be like, he is not the Protestant God of waste not, want not. He is also not the loving God who cares about his productions. He is not even the awful God pictured in the Book of Job. The God of the Galapagos is careless, wasteful, indifferent, almost diabolical. He is certainly not the same sort of God to whom anyone would be inclined to pray"

And then from Annie Dillard (I'm assuming from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, though I didn't say in the entry)... "In other words, even on the perfectly ordinary and clearly visible level, creation carries on with an intricacy unfathomable and apparently uncalled for. The long ping into being of the first hydrogen atom ex nihlo was so unthinkably, violently radical, that surely it ought to have been enough, more than enough. But look what happens. You open the door and all heaven and hell break loose."

Quite different perspectives, to put it mildly. I suppose this pair of quotes points to the same problem I was wrestling with last month- about how much natural theology can and can't do for us. Most of the time I just want to set aside any notion that we learn about God's character from the world around us, partly because it's a messy and difficult business but mostly because I would want to say that we learn about God through his revelation in Christ. But I have to admit, mostly I'm not sure what I mean by that, especially because thinking about the creation has always been central to my personal faith. So then I get stuck again. Because as harsh as David Hull is, he has a very good point. Seriously- just take a course on parasites, or paleontology. It's no wonder geology sent the Victorians into a tizzy of secularization and self-doubt. Extinction is frightening stuff.

Well, that's it for now. I realize my ideas have been particularly unstructured this evening. But I suppose that's what blogging is for.

post script (as per usual)

2009-12-02T00:39:00.004-05:00

I would also like to say, the book from my last post - The French Lieutenant's Woman- is definitely a new addition to my absolute favorites of all time. I haven't done a very good job describing it to people, and so I have my doubts about being successful at it here. (and all the cover material makes it sound like a shallow historical romance, which it isn't, at all. And I would know, having read enough of them) I suppose it's sort of a cross between Victorian intellectual history and a post-modern novel. I loved it. And my only complaint is that I didn't write it myself.

lab practicals

2009-12-02T00:27:00.002-05:00

Books: The Girl of the Limberlost

I've noticed a sort of inverse correlation between the interesting-ness of my life and how much I reflect upon it. I suppose when life is jumping about it's harder to take the time, or find the right words to capture it. All this by way of an excuse for myself that I haven't posted anything in about a month. And I don't have anything in particular to say besides to note that I am studying for my entomology final and hitting a wall on the road to motivation. I would like to say that there is some complex reason why I no longer have the study skills I did as an undergrad, but I think the simple explanation is just that I've gotten lazy. I suppose, also that it's the time of year when academic work seems distinctly less appealing when compared to holiday parties, egg nogg (and tomorrow at my apartment): hot cocoa by the fire.

I've also noticed an even greater than usual incidence of book recommendations/ gifts in my life in the last several months. I don't think I've picked out the last.... 7-8 books I read for pleasure. And I have about as many sitting on my shelf to be read that were also chosen by others. So thank you world (i.e. friends) for taking the time to expand my pleasure reading horizon. I realize it wasn't a collective effort, but I appreciate it all the same.

And yes, Bets, I've finally started yours...

truth or dare

2009-11-03T15:17:00.004-05:00

Books: The French Lieutenant's Woman and Endless Forms Most Beautiful

(yes, I have triumphantly started a new novel, lent to me by one of the other Winthrop tutors, who also happens to be an English PhD)

Last year, while playing truth or dare on a key in southern Florida, I was asked by one of my good friends whether or not I had ever doubted the existence of God. My answer was automatic and immediate- "almost every day". And as I wandered home from seminar today, I realized the answer is very true, despite the fact that according to most social measures of this sort of thing, I lead a devoutly religious life. For whatever reason- I'm not sure if it's what I study, or my background or just my personality- I daily entertain the thought that all this Christianity business might be nonsense. But it's relatively rare that this bothers me, on either an existential or intellectual level- I suppose I feel if I entertain the thought regularly then it means I'm not hiding from it. It can't sneak up and attack me. I do wonder sometimes, though, if I'm a bit too cavalier with all this doubting, and that it creeps up and in further than I think. Healthy doubts are invigorating and refreshing- but faith requires a certain tenacity, a fight even, to hold onto. I suppose it is a life long search to find the balance between steadfastness and open mindedness.

huxley, again

2009-10-30T12:08:00.002-04:00

Books: To Kill a Mockingbird and Endless Forms Most Beautiful

Just a quote from TH Huxley: "The Student of Nature wonders the more and is astonished the less, the more conversant he becomes with her operations" from Aphorism and Reflections

Despite the annoying gender differential in the statement, I like it a great deal. Things can be wondrous, even once we know how they work. I need that reminder sometimes.

the block on top of my head

2009-10-29T18:05:00.003-04:00

Some times I wonder if my writer's block is going to crush me. I mentioned it to someone the other day, and they pointed out to me that writer's block is just a fancy of the mind. Even so, mine is threatening to rise up and suffocate me today. All I need to do is string together a paragraph describing my thesis project- in rough draft form, for another grad student to look through- and I can hardly put the words to paper. I can say it out loud. I can list in an outline. But as soon as I try to make sentences, all my clauses fall to pieces and trickle away from me. So much for blogging as writing therapy.

Anyway, that wasn't what I meant to write about today. I got completely distracted earlier today (in the midst of my phylogenetics seminar... though not TOO distracted because it was wildly interesting. No, seriously. I think I finally understand the Bayesian method of phylogenetic reconstruction. And believe me, it's been months coming)- I decided that I don't read enough. This isn't a new thought, I have it about every three months or so, when I get frustrated with my constant rereading, web surfing and online-watching, and decide to plow through some novels that I haven't read before. But I have ambitions, real ambitions this time, and I think as part of keeping track, and also some self accountability I'm going to start each blog post with my pleasure book of the moment. This may have the added benefit of some reflection on the reading, as well.

So for today. Book: To Kill a Mockingbird and Endless Forms Most Beautiful (clearly there will never be just one pleasure book, these are both for reading groups that I've joined, though, so I think it's excusable in this case).

Part of the impetus for all this frustration and ambition is the fact that I bought TKaM weeks ago and only seriously started reading it yesterday. Pitiful, truly. It makes me wonder what I do with myself everyday after work. I'm not even sure. In any case, it's finally gotten to the part that I imagine when I think of the book- namely the trial. The other book is a popular read on evo-devo... I've very recently joined an evo-devo reading group with some philosophy of bio/ bio grad students. I'm excited, to say the least.

alliteration

2009-10-28T22:52:00.003-04:00

So two thoughts: First, my tv viewing is starting to look like an odd version of scattegories, in which the only category is 'tv shows that are slightly frivolous' and the letter in question is "g". I came to this conclusion after watching my first episodes of 'gilmore girls' over the weekend. Surprisingly (because I'm sure I went through the phase that everyone of my generation did with the WB), I had never seen an episode before, but I borrowed the dvds from one of my girls who lives upstairs. Always a poor decision to start a show that has seemingly limitless dvds in the middle of the semester. I was going to somehow spin this comment about 'g' titled tv shows into a set of thoughts about apparent order/ design in entirely coincidental occasions, but my mind hurts from attempting to understand the papers for my phylogenetics seminar. I'm not sure if it's because I've been in the humanities for several years at this point, but when I encounter a paper that has more formulas than prose, I give up a little. Silly, really.

My second thought is inspired by Ms. Frei's blog (to which she hasn't posted in an age)- and that is lists from my life that could potentially scare me. The thought was brought to me in a more immediate sense by my recent purchase of my no doubt umpteenth pair of headphones- and it made me wonder, how many of these have I purchased? And since I hadn't broken them out of the box and therefore couldn't listen to my iphone while I walked home, I started to think of various 'scary lists' from my life, so here's a smattering:

-number of headphones purchased
-number of days I've woken up after I meant to
-number of Quedoba burritos I've eaten since becoming a grad student
-in that vein, number of times I've used a vending machine in the same period
-number of days I've forgotten to floss
-cups of tea consumed
-amount of time spent in front of my laptop
-in front of the bathroom mirror, for that matter
-number of times I've fallen asleep with a book/ laptop on my lap

It's not a great list so far, but I like the idea of it. I suppose because (and it's not a very profound thought), it's interesting to contemplate all the very mundane things that take up the majority of my time, whereas if I were to characterize my life for someone else, I wouldn't mention most of them. So there.

On further reflection, there's something about this blog post that reminds me strongly of an email forward. Hmm.

model organism, anyone?

2009-10-15T20:08:00.002-04:00

I just had an exultant entomological moment (which I'm in dire need of, studying for my biology of insects midterm tomorrow... and the memorizing is not going well)- I identified and caught a fruit fly mid-air!! (Yes, it is now lying prone in my kill jar. Entomology is a bit- violent, actually)And despite my earlier assumptions that there is only one type of fruit fly, not only are there many species, there are two whole families of them: Drosophila (which I caught) and then Tephritidae(or 'true fruit flies').

and God saw it was good

2009-10-13T23:30:00.007-04:00

I've done several things in the past few days that I find privately amusing. (Well, now that I'm blogging about it, I suppose publicly amusing). Not that this doesn't mean I haven't talked about these things with anyone who was willing to listen to me- I tend to get a thought in my head and then repeat it out loud, a lot. Advantages of me having a blog= I may actually talk less about myself to unsuspecting bystanders.

Anyway, things which cracked me up for some reason: 1. attending a Celtics game on Friday (courtside seats, actually) 2. making flashcards for my entomology quiz and 3. teaching four year olds on Sunday that God made fish and birds on the fifth day of creation. Now the first two were humorous, mostly because I felt them to be in some way incongruous with my normal MO. As might not be wildly surprising, I don't usually have too much to do with professional sports (although sometimes I overemphasize my naivete' when it comes to them... admittedly because there are usually some people around who find incredible pleasure in explaining the game to me. People love to be knowledgeable, and I like to people-please, so it works out). The celtics won, btw. Though it's preseason, so I'm not sure how important the win was. My contribution to the evening was to make a typical 'ignorant girl' comment, observing that the knicks were an overall more attractive team than the celtics. Irrelevant, clearly. As for the flaschards- well it just amuses me to be practicing rote memorization at my age and stage of education. Not to be pretentious.

(momentary pause for california phone caller. I love talking on the phone. Actually I just love to talk)

But really the point of all this meandering is to point out the potential hilarity/irony/incongruity/hypocrisy of me teaching the seven days of creation. It does remind me that I love Genesis, and that in many ways I was converted by Genesis at the tender age of 14. There is something about the idea of God deciding to create that has always been powerful to me. I think it's the same set of reasons that I find the notion of incarnation possibly even more compelling than the crucifixion... or at least comparably so. But especially since my first years at Westmont, I haven't taken seriously the idea that there were anything like seven literal days at creation (for two fairly obvious reasons in my mind: 1. that in the account God doesn't even separate the 'days' into time allotments until the fourth 'day', so how could the other days be actual days? AND 2. because why would we care to insist that God was powerful enough to make the world in six days. Six days is pretty long time, relatively speaking... kind of a poor showing for an all powerful and necessary being)... and it is just a strange thing to get kids to repeat back to you that day 5 is the fish and bird day. I can tell that my fellow teacher and I think about the lesson fairly differently- I could actually care less if they remember which day things happen on, and am more interested in emphasizing the creativity and diversity of the natural world- and how we should be amazed by it. But I guess "day five= fish and birds" is an easier concept to remember for a four year old than "the firmament declares the glory of God, but let's not take this all too literally because natural theology makes me generally anxious and uncomfortable. So yes, I think the created world celebrates the creator, but don't read specific design moments into it, because I might go crazy". Actually I don't really remember the second part either, but it's sort of what goes through my head in a little rant when I think about the creation.

old hollywood

2009-10-07T21:45:00.005-04:00

I adore Gregory Peck. Seriously, if I had to choose a celebrity crush, he would win out over all the contemporary actors I know. There's just something about him- he brings a weightiness and sense of character to the roles that he plays. Yes, well....sigh.

Anyway, why am I thinking about Gregory Peck this evening? Nothing so simple- I bought To Kill a Mockingbird at Raven's Used Bookstore earlier today, and his portrayel of Atticus Finch is pictured on the cover. The ladies of Winthrop have decided to hold a monthly book club (unfortunately I can take no credit for the idea, as much as I adore the fact that we're actually doing it), and one of our esteemed English grad students picked Harper Lee's classic for our October meeting. I was a bit shocked to realize that I've never read the book - it somehow sat in that place in my mind under the column "have read" despite the fact that I've never cracked open the cover. I suppose it's one of those books that sufficiently a part of the popular consciousness that one can have the feeling of knowing it without actually experiencing. I'm excited to actually read.

I think part of the idea of the book club is for us to pick our (or at least one of our) favorite books to share with the rest of the group. And, I'm having a little difficulty coming up with my favorite book. Partly because I do like so many. But more contrarily, because what I claim to be my favorites, and the ones that I reach for over and over again are not always the same thing (as in, I often say that George Eliot is one of my favorite authors... but I've only read her books at the most three times each, whereas many a Lori Wick novel... yes horrors of horrors, contemporary Christian fiction... I've gotten through dozens of times). And it makes me wonder if I separate my favorites from my 'guilty pleasures' unnecessarily. Not a terribly insightful question. But since I reread books virtually everyday, it's something that takes up a large part of my life.

As for more purposeful thoughts, unfortunately I didn't have any particularly 'dissertation-y' musings today, besides fervently praying that my first solo PCR reactions worked this afternoon. But I have a sinking feeling that come tomorrow morning, I'll find that they haven't. Ergh.

mcvitie's

2009-10-06T00:16:00.004-04:00

I'm eating dark chocolate covered digestives and missing england. Well really, missing my semester at Oxford when I subsisted on digestives, tea and tomato/ brie sandwiches. My weekend was a whirlwind (or some other metaphor.. I think I need a better one) of faces, events, emotions and levels of energy- and I'm having a bit of a hard time settling back into the routine of things. It always amazes me how I can miss two places (or even three or four) at the same time. A few days with people from college, and I miss it. Well not college itself, but Westmont people. And part of me wishes I lived in California still so I could be more a part of that world. But then I got back to Harvard Square this morning - and I was so glad to be back in what I can only call 'home'.

But enough musings about which coast my heart really belongs to. I talk about it far too much, and it's only so interesting at the end of the day. I decided over the weekend that I need to come up with a better way of explaining my doctoral work to people when they ask me about it- mostly because I'm not yet able to express it in a way so that it seems as interesting as I think it is. I also realize that I sigh really loudly just before I explain somewhat complicated things. This was pointed out to me earlier this year (the person was complaining at the time), and I've really started to notice this habit. I would claim it's not because I'm being pretentious or annoyed with the question at hand. And I don't think that I am. But I do think I'm annoyed with myself for not having better answers to questions about my work. Because I love that people care enough to be interested and I wish I could do justice to that interest.

Well, I suppose that's the point of the blog. To give me practice. So, goal for the rest of the fall = make species sound wildly and fantastically interesting. Or at least try to get to the heart of the matter about why my dissertation project is worth pursuing. For now, though, I'm going to have another digestive and go to bed.

packing

2009-10-01T01:38:00.002-04:00

I should also mention that I'm up far far too late packing. And by packing I mean watching this week's episode of gossip girl and marveling that a show with such contrived plots and shoddy action could command my attention at this moment. I suppose it speaks to the power of addiction.

new england

2009-09-30T23:10:00.005-04:00

I love new england. Or at least Cambridge. I didn't always love it but I love it now so very dearly. (Ok not actually, but I couldn't resist paraphrasing a little Jane Austen. What else do I have to amuse myself on a Wednesday evening?) I had all sorts of blogging ideas over the weekend that I didn't explore, and since the week started I've been feeling a bit - well - floating about, or insubstantial or something. And then I felt self-conscious because I good friend of mine mentioned he didn't enjoy blogs that were, as he put it 'naval gazing'. And all I could think to write about were the fanciful and nonsensical peregrinations of my own mind.

So thus, silence. But today someone else told me today that she enjoyed my writing, and since I am all-things-insecure about my prose since coming to Harvard, it gave me a push to put fingers to keyboard (as it were).

But yes, back to New England. I was thinking about it more seriously today when walking around the natural history museum (I love love love that building, but more on my thoughts about its quintessential Victorian-ness some other time) - especially because a few trees in the yard have turned. Color, that is. It always surprises me how fast it happens- one morning you walk by and the tree is suddenly a brilliant, breathtaking scarlet. There aren't good words for this, and I digress as usual. The point is, watching the beginning of fall put me to mind of my first semester here, how long ago it seems now, and how settled my life feels. And especially since one of my first blog posts that semester was upon the occasion of Lauren 'who is now a' Keanney's wedding - and now I am about to embark to the west coast for another big Westmont wedding. And well, I just can't help but think about the connections, and paths retread. And how I love Cambridge MA now in a way that I didn't and couldn't have that first autumn I lived here.

To end, though, I will remark that I've been keeping to one of my semester's resolutions (shocking, really), and that is to read more poetry. I tend to read the same three poets (Christina Rossetti, Gerard Manley Hopkins and William Blake)- but I've been trying to branch out more. My mother bought me an anthology called "The Best Poems of the English Language", which I treasure for its sweeping and snarky editorial voice- and this week I've been working through Keats and Dickinson. Dickinson, especially, is much more... bleak, despairing, and well, final, than I ever imagined. Dickinson is not the person to read to have hope for life eternal and the wellspring of heavenly grace. Rather an odd thing to read before evening prayers, but I imagine an honesty about the horrors of death can only be a good thing. And apparently CS Lewis agrees with me, at least according to the book I'm reading about him (Planet Narnia, and yes, as usual I am reading about ten books at once).

ps.

2009-09-24T23:17:00.001-04:00

I read a bad review of regina spektor's new album yesterday. Naturally I'm enraged.

of a taciturn nature

2009-09-24T22:49:00.003-04:00

I ranted today. About all sorts of things. Genes. Epistemic Spaces. Classification. SSK. Disciplinary boundaries. Historically locatable concepts. Mendelism as a method of organization. And it felt good. It's nice to be in my third year and not feel quite so inhibited, and be able to contribute to discussions even if my thoughts are not well formulated. It's also lovely to have friends in my discipline to whom I can say things along the lines of... the SSK literature on classification seems a bit stale to me... and that they actually care/ know what I'm talking about. But I won't attempt to repeat of my rants here. For one, I'm too tired. And for two, well- as I said, the ideas weren't well formulated. But for some reason this puts me to mind of a quote from pride and prejudice (well, really most things put me to mind of jane austen quotes, but that's neither here nor there)- it's at.. I think the Netherfield ball... when Elizabeth says to Darcy that she's noticed a similarity to their minds; she comments that they are both of a 'silent, taciturn nature, unwilling to speak unless to say something that will amaze the whole room' (I'm paraphrasing, I don't remember the quote exactly). Elizabeth is being ironic, and doesn't quite mean what I mean, when I say it is nice to contribute to academic discussions without feeling the burden to be brilliant and perfect. But I like the quote all the same.

On another note... I discovered one of the problems with sharing my blog with former professors, is that they comment by sending me long emails full of thoughts much more interesting and complex than my own. I'm still piecing through said email, so I don't have comments to contribute back- except to add, that I think I used a poor paraphrase of Pascal yesterday, so I wanted to ammend this fault by reproducing a better version of his sentiment here:

"There is enough light for those who only desire to see, and enough obscurity for those who have a contrary disposition."

or alternatively this:

"There is sufficient clearness to enlighten the elect, and sufficient obscurity to humble them.
There is sufficient obscurity to blind the reprobate, and sufficient clearness to condemn them and make them inexcusable"

Perhaps I will revisit all this once I've worked my way through the email. Or I'll ramble onto something else. Which seems more likely. I'm supposed to be (and I am, in actuality) putting together a written proposal for my master's thesis project for my PI this weekend. So I suspect any blogging thoughts will be less about Pascal and more about butterfly chromosomes. Which are wildly interesting. Really.

For good measure

2009-09-23T17:43:00.001-04:00

eet.

one of the songs off her new album. i can't pick a favorite from the album anymore... after last night i love them all in equal measure.

regina spektor and meddlesome deities

2009-09-23T15:33:00.004-04:00

I don't like natural theology. That is, the notion that by looking at the structure and workings of the natural world, God's presence and character will be self-evident to us. I'm sure the idea is an old one, but I usually think of it in its early 19th century instantiation- the William Paley, 'I'm going to be an English clergyman and dabble in Enlightenment era philosophy' thinking that traps us in a kind of semi-deistic way of ordering the world that I have no good way of characterizing at the moment (but that I'm finding terribly irritating). I need to have much better ways of describing all of this, especially since a lot of the current evo/creationist debate is often formulated around the question of whether God interferes in the 'natural' order of things, and if so, is it detectable? My instinct is mostly NO, and I tend toward the way Pascal puts it (in a quote that a good friend reminded me of a few days ago):

"In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't."

All well and good. And seems to jive with the history of science (or sociology of science or whatever) concept of the 'theory ladenness of observation'. But then yesterday, at my new bible study we ran through this in Romans 1: 19-20:

"since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. ²⁰For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

BAH. I don't like this, not at all. Here I am, attempting to make all sorts of arguments about the hidenness or complexity, or mystery or something about God's interaction with the world, and then I have to go and read annoying things like this. Probably emblematic of my generally tortured relationship with scripture. The only thing that saves this a bit for me, is completely anecdotal- there are things that I learn about (especially right now in my entomology class... insects are ca-razy weird and amazing) that really do seem too incredible to even be real, let alone have any sort of explanation. I suppose I can fall back on my usually advocacy- that to explain something does not take the wonder out of it- in fact, it can even add to it. My favorite example of this is of a sunset- just because you know what's going on in a sunset doesn't make it any less beautiful or meaningful. But I've wandered now in my point.

And now for something entirely different: Last night I saw Regina Spektor in concert at the Orpheum Theater in Boston (conveniently located directly across the street from my church). I don't have the words to capture the experience, except to say that my eyes started to smart midway through, because I was so afraid of blinking and missing a single moment of her performance. It was exquisite, transcendent, enthralling.... ah. Although I will say that it is a strange thing to see someone in concert and share with hundreds of strangers music that has been so intensely personal. I was introduced to Regina by Betsie and Rachel my senior year (naturally since they both have far cooler taste in music than I do), and her songs have been intimately interwined/ characterized endless moments and emotions for me over the intervening five years. It is by far the best concert I have ever been to. By far.

tv shows

2009-09-21T22:43:00.003-04:00

Yes, I have two television shows that I consider myself devoted to: gossip girl (affectionately rendered 'gg' by the lovely undergrad girls I watch it with) and glee. I like the general guttural noises possible to utter when pronounces these two shows. And in any case, besides a general appreciation for frothy frivolity (I'm enamored of alliteration this evening)- I love that the shows give me something to be relaxed and giddy about with my friends/ students. Addictive nonsense this all is...

serendipity

2009-09-21T17:34:00.002-04:00

I locked up my computer in my office over the weekend, as part of my new separation between work and home. But the flip side to this, is I wanted to write several times over the weekend and wasn't able to. I tried typing on my iphone in the back of a minivan on Friday (I went to Harvard Forest with my entomology class) but the only result of that exercise was nausea.

And I've been thinking a lot about relating my life to cell theory (or at least cells and how they aggregate into tissues)- a bit because I like the little I know about cell theory, but more because I like using bodily metaphors to articulate a physicality about my emotions. BUT I'm sort of done with the thought, especially since I explained it to Lisa this afternoon during our hour-long conversation outside the science center. My whole day has been like that- I spent a little longer at everything than I meant to (breakfast, lunch, coffee later in the day, and then running into Lisa). I didn't get a lot of the things done I meant to, but I feel splendid nonetheless. Even though I have this new found love for work, efficiency and productivity, it's also good to remember that I enjoy the flexibility of being a grad student. So I'm going to save complex thoughts for later and just be excited that I'm going to extract DNA tomorrow for the first time! And go to bed early because my eyes are crossing over one another...

systematics

2009-09-17T14:46:00.003-04:00

I'm reading a book that is... annoying me, or at least provoking me a bit. I'm trying to sort out exactly why that is; I like taxonomy (systematics) because it sorts out the relationships between organisms according to their evolutionary/ historical relationships to one another. Clearly I've been wandering down the briar path in my thoughts (or being naive, or something)- since the book is making a case for systematic methods and theories that don't depend on any a priori assumptions about evolutionary processes. Which actually, is not the most bothersome part- since in my mind taxonomy should be a way of exploring evolutionary relationships, it would be better if too many assumptions about the direction of evolution weren't built in at the beginning. But the author is taking the case further- that systematics should group organisms according to their similarities without any recourse to the causal mechanisms/ historical processes of evolution. According to him, it's analogous to to the celestial observation of Jupiter- that is, we can track where it is and what it does without providing an explanation for why it moves as it does. I suppose he has this vision of taxonomy as something separate from evolutionary theory that theoreticians can depend on- almost as non-theoretical information to base their conclusions on.

I mean, I sort of see his point- it does seem circular to build in assumptions about the historical process of change and relationship between organsisms as you are trying to group them according to those historical relationships. But the larger part of me wonders- who cares? Who cares about putting organisms into categories unless we think that those categories reflect (or at least attempt to reflect) some sort of evolutionary reality? Besides, all taxonomic categories depend on two things that are inexplicably intertwined with evolution: time and relationship. Saying that you're going to group all spiders together because they are arthropods with certain segments fused and eight legs (to simplify the characters)... is silly, in my mind. You're just saying that you think these characteristics are more important than other ones (I mean, why not group everything according to color, or how big it is, or how much you like it? I mean, people are derisive of Buffon's classification scheme, because he grouped things according to their usefulness to humans, but there's no particular reason why that's a bad thing if you aren't trying to get at some sort of natural relationship). And yes there is a burgeoning anthropological literature about alternative taxonomic systems (which I had to read about, very confusedly in my first year), and an equally productive scholarship about whether it is possible for taxonomy/ classification to have a cohesive link with the way things are. And it's rather ridiculious for me to put all these issues on the table in a blog, since they will probably occupy their own chapters in my dissertation. But that is the point of my blogging exercise. Plus, I don't think I get to say things like: why bother? in my dissertation. I guess my actual point is that even though I am a proper historian of science, and should be comfortable with the social construction of knowledge (which I am)... but I don't even think that is what this book is doing. It's still arguing for something absolute in the way of scientific knowledge- it's just trying to claim a bit of scientific soil for itself that isn't choked up by the vine of evolutionary theory. And that, to me, is the annoying bit.

pancake disappointment

2009-09-16T23:56:00.003-04:00

I'm going to bed now (every intention of getting up to go to a spinning class with some other lady Winthrop tutors), but I just had to comment on my fire-alarm-setting-off-firemen-coming-to-my-dorm-because-maria-and-i-made-pancakes-in-a-basement-kitchen adventure. And the comment is: slightly rubbish evening made much better by what nice friends (and entryway residents) I have. I should give up this preoccupation with things going well, and be generally more relaxed. I'm not sure when I turned into a fussy 1950s housewife, but it happened, and I need to undo the process.

Hooker

2009-09-16T17:16:00.002-04:00

I shouldn't be writing right now- my inbox is over flowing, I have a studybreak for my entryway in the works and my room has dissolved into something not even approximating tidiness. But whenever I have the compulsion to write, I think it's best to follow along- especially since I've developed such a complex/ writer's block over the whole enterprise since starting grad school.

So, I've been thinking about Darwin today. Which is hardly surprising, given my deep well of affection for the man- but today I was mulling over a specific moment in his life. Joseph Hooker (at least I think that's his first name) was a botanist and a good friend of Darwin's who told Darwin that in order to say something about the abstract/ theoretical problem of species Darwin needed to acquaint himself with the particulars of whole group of organisms. In other words, according to Hooker, it was folly for Darwin to talk about the origin of species if he had never had the experience of teasing out and identifying species himself. And Darwin took him seriously- spending eight years of his life becoming an expert on all barnacles, living and extinct. (btw, his first barnacle, which he named Arthroblanus, is a clue to one of my standard digital passwords). I suppose Hooker's is the naturalists' or empiricists' view on biological problems - don't say something in the abstract until you've looked at the natural world itself. Ernst Mayr I'm sure was fond of this moment in Darwin's life, if indeed he was aware of it. I like it myself- despite the fact that studying barnacles for eight years seems a little extreme - and most importantly, it gives me a touchstone to relate my current foray into entomology. I will confess that on entering grad school I had no particular intention of ever taking a course in entomology. And I was a bit hesitant about the idea at the beginning of this semester, despite the fact that my master's thesis is in entomology. It's just that- my interest in is evolution - in the process, the philosophy, the abstract theoretical wonderment of this idea that claims to connect all of life, past and present. Somehow studying the internal anatomy of grasshoppers doesn't quite seem to measure up to those grandiose ambitions. BUT Darwin did it with his barnacles, and I (and other much more informed historians) do think it changed his theory- or enfleshed it, at least. Looking at the diversity of barnacles showed him the vast variety within a single group - and the immense difficulty of parsing out all the different taxa. It's hard to treat species as obvious natural units when you're up to eyeballs in barnacle genitalia, using a microscope to try to differential between two specimens. So that's my mental comfort to myself as I spend part of my semester putting together an insect collection and learning about rectal palps (oh yes). And, honestly, it is a chance to recapture some of the frolicsome fun of tromping around and naturalizing that I miss from my undergrad days..

open mic ambitions

2009-09-16T00:37:00.000-04:00

Another thought on my mind, as the evening trips into the wee sma's, is really just a passing fancy; the undergrad house I live in is having an open mic night on Thursday and it was suggested that poetry recitation was on the list of possible entries. And since I did have a foray into the world of elocution as a tween (winning the speech competition trophy at 14 was my greatest triumph for many years), I contemplated reciting a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins. I adore Hopkins above most things, not just because his poetry is simultaneously experimental, insightful and achingly beautiful - but because the lines feel so weighty and wonderful in your mouth. I suppose the term for that is onomatopoetic (as in the sounds of the word give part of the meaning to the text)- but since my association with that words comes from eighth grade and being told that an onomatpoeia was writing 'bzzz' when one was talking about bees- I have this compulsion to find another way to describe Hopkins' appeal. If I knew more about poetry I could probably say something about the strange meter that Hopkins developed (and I did once sit in on a lecture in Oxford that talked about this very thing, but my memory of that occasion is sketchy at best)- but since I don't all I can say is that I love his work, and I love it even more when I read it out loud. So before I go to bed, just a few lines from the first stanza of Hopkins' poem "The Windhover". (I should mention I'm not going to recite the poem, since I don't have time to memorize it before Thursday)

High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,	5
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

not being thoughtful

2009-09-16T00:15:00.000-04:00

I was lucky enough to have Lori Lester visit me for the last two days- and she suggested (or mentioned, I'm not sure there was even that much coercion in what she said) that I start blogging again. She promised to read it, and that seemed as good a reason as any to revisit this, so here I am. I am attempting to do things these days without thinking about them too much (since I find that I can over analyze to the point of paralysis), so I'm not going to reflect too much on what the blog used to be and what I want it to be now. Except that I hope two things for this resurgence in my 'blogger' self- one, that I will be generally more extemporaneous and less contrived (really two ways of saying the same thing) AND more importantly, that this will be a venue for me to try out ideas I have surrounding the ever looming dissertation. Mostly to make them semi-interesting or at least partially understandable to someone besides myself. Of course there will be other things, because, clearly, I think about things besides my future dissertation. But I like spinning out ideas about evolutionary theory- and blogging would appear to be an informal way to do that.

I should be asleep right now, since I have a gym date in the morning- but I'm excited enough about starting this again (in fact I've already mentioned it in person to two people today- one of whom is a good friend that I ran into on a city bus this evening, very odd)- that I thought I would begin by saying that I joined a small group at my new(ish) church today. This easter I finally made the decision to go to a more 'evangelical' church after months of agonizing between evangelicalism and Anglicanism - and since being back for the fall I have very much thrown myself into being at the church. If I were going to be overly analytical about the process I might liken it to trying on an old self- or at least a part of a self- and the fit is a bit tight. Or odd. Or something. I tell myself often that it's not necessary to be intellectual to be faithful, but it's so hard for me not to interact with my faith that way, that the semi-joking, very emotional, almost proud of one's ignorance persona of evangelicalism is a bit... strange. But I want to be in a church that is good at the things that I'm bad at, that is different than the way I want to do things. I went to bed last night praying for the unity of the church out of the Anglican Book of Common Prayer - and I woke up this morning, ready to be in an evangelical church. At least for the moment.

addendum

2008-02-20T15:37:00.001-05:00

As a side note, I've noticed that the blog posts everything on west coast time, despite that I have everything set telling it that I do, in fact, live in Boston. It's a long transition from one coast to the other, and maybe blogger is still catching up with it.

the anglican communion

2008-02-20T15:03:00.000-05:00

I’ve just come from my 18th century novel class. The only downside to the course is it makes me question why I didn’t major in English lit. Thankfully my discipline is expansive enough that I can sneak myself into the English building often enough- which is a true benefit as their facilities are more aesthetically pleasing than the science center, where I normally reside. Being in the class I feel as if I’m doing a bit of a departmental ethnography—there really are disciplinary cultures that you have to become acquainted with. Even something as simple as: no one in my seminar takes notes by computer. They all have artsy looking notebooks and nice pens… whereas my MIT seminar, everyone tip taps away on their computers. I braved being an oddity this afternoon, though, and brought my laptop to the English seminar: my hand cramps if I take notes by hand, and notes by computer are more easily utilized later on.

Not that my note taking method is interesting enough to merit writing about, but I think it speaks to a more general though I’ve been having recently: people start to meld into their disciplines in grad school. Your subject isn’t just what you study, it becomes the thing that shapes the rhythm of your life. My own life is a series of library and café stints, because essentially all I do is read. Read, think and then later talk about what I’ve read. Whereas my properly scientific friends spend endless hours in their labs: they’re always talking about setting up this experiment, running this machine, etc. I have to admit I prefer libraries to labs- but I’m glad someone likes to do lab work, otherwise I’d have nothing to read about. As I’ve said before, and likely to say again, I don’t like to do science, but I like to read and think about others doing it, preferably if they did it a hundred years or so ago.

But now I have to go get an unimaginable quantity of reading done. I’m retreating to New Hampshire with the Episcopal chaplaincy this weekend, so I need to be more on top of life than I usually am by the time the week ends. I’m excited about the retreat though, there are several people going from my chaplaincy and there are supposed to be Anglican students from all over New England. I think I’m becoming solidly entrenched in Anglicanism, despite occasional misgivings about walking away from my more evangelical roots. Partly I just enjoy the church so much: I commented to the chaplain last week that I’m worried they’re going to think I’m overly keen because I show up for everything. This evening, for instance, I'm going to the Lenten speaker series on 'the enigma of Jesus'. And my general church attendance is worlds more consistent than it ever was at Westmont. But I've decided to take this all as a positive sign and just roll with it. (And the chaplain assured me that no one thinks I’m over eager. Thank goodness)

gnosis

2008-02-19T08:47:00.000-05:00

I admit it, I’m a weak-minded, overly sentimental female. (I’m being intentionally gendered, having spent most of yesterday reading about medieval dissections of holy women) I went to bed last night writing to my journal and watching “A Little Princess”. I love that movie—but I watch it mostly because the end makes me cry. Not a particularly sensible thing to do with oneself, as far as I can tell. I’ve also realized that I’m starting to use my blog as a semi-confessional for all the odd things I do but don’t tell people about generally. Perhaps I’m attempting to create a more holistic social self. Or I’m just being nonsensical as usual.

It’s funny, I was very close to ending my blog the other day, despite that I’ve been better about writing on it. I was starting to find it somewhat redundant: with what I tell my journal and what I yammer on about more generally. But then I received a couple comments recently indicating that some people do occasionally read this, so I figure I might as well write along as not. Besides, perhaps if I have two written outlets for all the things I feel the need to articulate, I’ll stop trapping people into listening to me. Sometimes I just talk far too much.

More interestingly, I’ve posted a couple pictures from a recent photo-taking excursion along the Charles River and at the Mt. Auburn cemetery (famous for being for the first garden cemetery in the country). I was attempting to better familiarize myself with my camera, as I am going to Guatemala for spring break, and want to be able to take stunning photos whilst there. The camera knows what it is about far better than I do, but I think I started to make some progress in terms of getting a ‘feel’ for the process. But I’ll wait for some judgments from my more artistic friends. (ahem, bfrei) As for Guatemala, of course I’m thrilled beyond any capacity to express in this venue… not the least because I will likely see the newly-wed Keaneys while I’m there. And if that isn’t worth traveling across half a hemisphere, I’m not sure what is.

of great doctrinal import

2008-02-02T02:10:00.000-05:00

I’ve just come home from a night of dancing, am eating a bag of overpriced doritos from the vending machine downstairs and have wandered about facebook for a few minutes. That’s one thing that I really liked about late nights when I was in England, they were usually capped by the purchase and consumption of an enormous helping of fries. I’m always hungry late at night—and usually for something that’s awful for me. We walked home from the club, over three miles across town and the river, so my feet hurt and my legs are tired, but my mind is very awake from the fresh air.

I like dancing, but tonight I tried to figure out why, exactly. In Santa Barbara sometimes half the fun would be that Tonic or etc. would be packed out with Westmont people, so everywhere you looked there was a familiar face, laughing and enjoying the moment of being young and alive with you. But that certainly wasn’t the case tonight. I suppose I like the chance to only focus on moving my body rather than my mind through things. And I like being in that setting and knowing that I’m a doctoral student—I’m not sure how to explain it exactly, it’s almost like a secret I feel I have with me. But maybe most of all I love the music: being lost in it, connecting with funny old memories from college, and not being able to worry about my current existential or doctrinal ponderings. I’ve been too morose in my mental meanderings of late, and I’m fast running into the possibility that I’ll start taking myself too seriously. And that would be an abysmal turn of events to say the least.

In other news, my undergrad vibe is continuing through the weekend, as someone asked me if I was a sophomore or a junior at BU. hmmm. I really can’t believe I look 19, despite protestations to the contrary.

rainy days and fridays

2008-02-01T14:41:00.000-05:00

My world is rather more wet than not this afternoon. Makes my earlier episode with a hair dryer seem rather pointless. It’s Friday and I really should be doing all the productive things I’ve set out for myself for the end of the week: laundry folding, bill paying, filing, etc. But I probably won’t do any of them, for the simple reason that I don’t feel like it. I’m coming to realize that I absolutely despise doing things that are contrary to my mood, and it’s just my good fortune that my mood often takes me towards positive things such as studying and cleaning my room. I had someone (a young man, to be precise) once remark to me that he had never met someone so readily dictated to by their moods. I’ve since decided the comment wasn’t a compliment.

As for the evening, I’m ‘crashing’ a special student function. (I won’t explain what a special student is, suffice it to say lots of British people who are only around for a year). Should be fun. It still doesn’t feel as if term has started, even though the perusal of the syllabi for my potential courses demonstrated to me that I really should get on the ball, as it were. I think this semester is going to involve a lot more work than the last one, and right now the idea just makes me tired. Maybe I’m getting lazy in my advanced years. I just want to sit around, eat chocolate and read desultorily. Somehow I don’t think they’ll give me a doctorate for that.

a bit adrift

2008-01-31T20:33:00.000-05:00

I had four different people ask me if I was an undergraduate today, one of whom thought I was a freshman. I must have looked more lost and neophytic than I realized. All of the instances must have been prophetic because later in the afternoon I lost my day planner, and am now officially feeling adrift. The day started out so well- it’s the second day of shopping week, and I’ve started to feel that renewed sense of purpose and enthusiasm that comes with the start of a new semester. And it was that sort of clear, bright but windy kind of day that makes one feel particularly contemplative and connected with the world. So with all this I was feeling quite expansive and purposeful with life, all of which was killed neatly in one stroke by the loss of my planner. For the rest of the day I’ve felt a little defeated and sorry for myself. I’m rather embarrassed to realize how dependent I am on one smallish notebook.

Today was also marked by the grad discussion group at the Episcopal chaplaincy I attend. This time we discussed the Protestant reformation: implications, feelings and thoughts on the topic etc. I won’t even go into the conversation, but we ended with some discussion on universal salvation and now I just want to put my head in a bucket. I feel as if everything I learned at Westmont is being stretched too and fro – at church as much as by the ‘secular’ world that I’m living in now. I know it’s probably good for me, but in a way it’s more than just different intellectual engagements with my faith. I’m realizing that my way of being in my faith is changing; that I’m rapidly becoming a Christian that my Westmont self would not recognize or resonate with. And I’m wondering if I want that, because Westmont was and is so much of how I understand myself and my place in the world.

Ugh. Way too much to think about on a simple Thursday evening. I would do something pragmatic, like fold my laundry, but since I’ve lost my planner and my “to do” list I won’t have the satisfaction of checking the task off, which is half the fun. So instead I’ll probably bounce aimlessly about my room and read shoddy Jane Austen sequels. Right.

new term

2008-01-31T01:48:00.000-05:00

I contemplate a lot more blog posts than I actually write. Same with emails. I write them in my mind: turning phrases and paragraphs around, often while I’m doing entirely unrelated tasks. In fact, I think I do my best writing in the shower. Partly this is because the idea loses something (I’m not sure what), when it’s actually written out. Maybe that’s a sign that I’m not a very good writer. In any case, before this weekend I had an almost entirely finished blog post in my mind, but I never quite got the chance to write it out. I’m actually glad because it would have been a lot more negative than I would have wished. I was feeling very… well, depressed last week. It’s a cycle I’ve noticed in myself before: I’m emotionally tired and so I have a harder time connecting with others, then I begin to feel like my friends aren’t making an effort to listen to or understand me (though they’re not doing anything particularly different) and then I get frustrated and pull into myself. I’ve realized before that this is a fundamental sign that I’m an introvert, in that when I’m the most upset I tend to want to be by myself more and more.

And the funny and frustrating thing is that I could never figure out exactly what was wrong with me last week. I think I was probably just exhausted. But thankfully the week was followed by the weekend in which I went on a ski trip to Vermont. I won’t embarrass myself by going on about how convivial and communal I feel after the trip. Suffice it to say, that I had an absolutely wonderful time: I loved the skiing, I loved the atmosphere, and I feel entirely reinvigorated for the new semester. It was very liberating to find an outdoor activity other than hiking that I don’t completely suck at. I was spinning some very eloquent thoughts about how the experience redefined some of my self-perceptions, but they’ve flitted away a bit. Probably because they’re mostly nonsense and I think it’s more fitting just to say that I had a great deal of fun. Unfortunately I didn't get very many good pictures, even though there were truly breathtaking views off the top of the mountain. I was falling far too often to contemplate carrying my camera along with me. So this is just a picture of the bottom of the small run that we first learned on.

I suppose I’m attempting to revive this blog foray. We’ll see how far it goes. I think I have two issues with the whole idea: the first is that I have such a tendency to edit and construct my writing that I think the posts sound a bit forced and secondly that all the truly interesting happenings in my life are left out because they’re relational and I feel awkward writing about someone that I’ll see the next day over lunch. Even if it’s positive. So even though the people I’ve met have so far defined much of my Harvard experience, I’ve felt hesitant to write about them. Maybe I’ll gather my courage and start to write recklessly about everyone and everything. Now there’s an exciting idea.

hiatus

2008-01-23T03:37:00.000-05:00

I’ve kept a journal for almost three quarters of my life. And every time I neglect writing to it, I always promise myself that I won’t start the new entry explaining why I’ve been absent. So I won’t do that here either. Maybe the new year and the reams of papers I’ve written this month has finally killed my semester long writer’s block.

I should be finishing my last paper of the semester right now. It’s an absolutely ungodly hour, late enough that I have no business being awake as I am…. but my sleeping schedule has been consistent only in its inconsistency this week, and so I’m wide awake, tapping on the computer. I’m a bit stuck on the paper- I’m trying to explain Richard owen’s view on evolutionary theory, and I’m not sure where to start. But I will, and soon.

But as I’m sitting here on my bed, in a pile of clothes, blankets, books, empty dorrito bags and I think about a hundred bobby pins. It’s a position I would never share with someone else… I may have a erratic, creative side to my personality, but I couple that with a neurosis for privacy, so the result is that few people ever find me in this state. I find it hard to be organized and to create at the same time; writing comes from the mess of connections inside my mind that somehow has to be manifested in my physical environment. Tomorrow (or rather later today) after I’ve slept through the afternoon I’ll pick up the mess and pretend that I have a somewhat organized hold on life. Ha. Which I do, but usually only on the odd Thursday and at the beginning of semesters. And this is most assuredly the end of one.

So why did I decide to write on my blog tonight? Partly to convince my fingers that they can still produce words, even if my mind is a bit stuck. But also because as I was sitting here thinking I looked down at my hands, and I mean really looked at them. Doesn’t sound that interesting or profound… but I realized I almost didn’t recognize them. I’ve always had sort of nice, soft, slightly plump hands- the sort you imagine on a young girl before she’s shed her baby fat. But these hands aren’t particularly nice now- sort of spare and tendony, chapped from the cold and pale, much paler than usual. Some of that’s the weather- but the other is just that I’m older. I’m not a girl at all anymore. Strange to be sitting up writing a paper for your PhD and its your hands that make you realize that you’ve moved on in life. But that’s how your mind works at four in the morning.

where the days are longer

2007-10-26T02:38:00.000-04:00

Today is the first time I’ve ever gone on a visit to California. Usually my flight to California is the one that is taking me home. I’m en route to Santa Barbara for Lauren “soon to be a Keaney” Wallace’s wedding. I’m gloriously excited, or would be if I wasn’t tired and in the midst of a thirteen-hour trek across the continent.

I wrote on my facebook status (which I’ve found are often ambiguous but surprisingly accurate) yesterday that I was about to go home. And that’s exactly what I feel like today: that I’m heading home. When I was at Westmont, Santa Barbara and San Diego were sharply delineated in my mind: one was school, the other home, one the place I grew up and the other were I had my first tastes of adult independence. But now that I’ve moved to the northeast, my feelings towards the two places have merged and slipped into one another until it’s all just variations of home. I suppose it’s all connected to why I feel the most Californian when I’m not in California.

Of course, these are all natural thoughts to be having. I’m adjusting to the fact that I belong someplace else now, that I have a new home. And though I’ve said it more times than probably anyone around me wants to hear, I’ll say it again: it’s odd to move to an entirely new place and know that you’ll be there for a long time. Sometimes I still have to remind myself that I live in Massachusetts.

So my theme song for the weekend is “Ventura Highway” by America. (A close runner up this time was Rihanna’s “Umbrella”, but the California reference won out.) I like picking theme songs; without sounding too maudlin, it helps me solidify my feelings about whatever it is I’m picking the song for. Flying to SB I’m assaulted by a kaleidoscope of images: drives down the 101, walks on the shoreline bluffs with a latte and a cranberry rice muffin, picnics and wine tasting in the Santa Ynez valley, the every-varying sight of the channel islands off the coast, the Mission in the moonlight, the formal gardens at sunrise, Friday afternoon hikes, an endless series of coffee shops, my favorite window seat in the public library, tonic at 2am…

Ok, I’ll stop. It hasn’t even been that long since I was in Santa Barbara. But it’s my blog, so I’m allowed to slip into over-sentimentality at times.

some rustling leaves and acorns in the breeze

2007-10-23T14:57:00.000-04:00

Last week I had a meeting with one of my seminar professors about a final paper, during which he mentioned that there are few things as beautiful in the world as the wildflowers of southern California. I responding by saying that I had not seen enough of the world yet to know. After this weekend, I believe I can safely add another beauty to my experience: autumn in New England. I went on a hiking trip with some friends, which was organized by the graduate student “house”. We stayed in a lodge owned by Dartmouth University in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. It was an entirely satisfying and wonderful weekend. If I was in a different mood I would attempt to put that more lyrically. As it is, hopefully my pictures will do the experience more justice.

Thinking about southern California puts me in sober frame of mind today. I’ve been on the phone on and off yesterday and today with my parents about the wildfires in San Diego, and it’s frightening to say the least. I suppose we don’t realize how tied we are to the place we grew up until we leave, or until that place is threatened in some way. Even though my parents are safe from the fires right now, it’s still difficult to hear about so many friends and family having to evacuate. And it’s also strange how many other things have a hold on my concentration and emotional energy, many of them wonderful things (such as my impending return to Santa Barbara), and I have still have to give of myself to them. I suppose what I am attempting to articulate is that it seems silly to have to concentrate on midterms when people I love are in the midst of a disaster. But others have reflected on this type of thing before, and in more cogent ways than I will here. I suppose it is a reminder that there are always those in this world who are suffering, even as we go about our daily lives. What we do about that, though, is a complicated issue. At least in my opinion, although maybe not in others.

All this to say, is that though my mind has been often in San Diego the past few days, I cannot help but enjoy the autumn in Cambridge, MA. So far it has been as beautiful and transporting as I hoped it would be. Though today has been a trifle hot.

ps. I changed the settings so now if you click on the photos, they actually get bigger.

i am happier even than jane, she only smiles, i laugh

2007-10-19T15:46:00.000-04:00

It is astonishing, that though I am taking exclusively "history of science" courses (barring the French class), my weekly reading experiences are as varied as if I was in the thick of an undergraduate liberal arts education. On any given day it's as likely that I'll read about geology, chemistry, music, eugenics, pre-industrial guild relations, Hume, etc. I like it, and I certainly feel engaged, but there are moments when I feel like my mind is going in too many directions at onces.

One of my more bizarre reading selections this week was about an early modern cat killing ritual ("early modern" being fancy historical code for the time around "the Renaissance"). I have to admit that, although I enjoyed the article and actually found it useful for a paper I'm composing for another class, the reason it was assigned for my methods class escaped me entirely. But the article began with an insight into something I've been thinking about in a more general way: humor and friendship. The cat massacre described in the article was actually an elaborate constructed "joke" conducted by print workers against their master. This seems pretty odd, as our modern sensibilities (at least mine), don't normally find brutal animal beating humorous. And that's precisely the point, according to the author of the article: "Our own ability to get the joke is an indication of the distance that separates us from the workers of preindustrial Europe... When you realize that you are not getting something -- a joke, a proverb, a ceremony -- that is particularly meaningful to the natives, you can see where to grasp a foreign system of meaning in order to unravel it."

I like all this, for both academic and personal reasons. I think we can never emphasize enough how different the past is from where we are now, and if we desire to understand it in some small way, we must recognize that distance. I know many would disagree with me, arguing that there is a unity in human nature, desires and actions across times and cultures. But I have to deal in particularities... But more personally, I don't think we can underestimate how profoundly important humor is to our relationships. I know that when someone doesn't relate to the things I think are funny I feel as if "they just don't get me". And this is something I've been ruminating about the past week or so. Even though I feel very settled into life at Harvard, including the social aspect, of course I miss the community that I've left. Maybe I'm a bit of a snob, or overestimate how funny we were at Westmont, but I miss the well developed sense of humor there. There was always a strong streak of irony in a lot of the things we did; and it managed to be subtle and comically overstated all at the same time. It's probably just a natural consequence of spending five years with the same people, and I'll likely have similar sentiments about Harvard when I'm finished here. But for now I just wish for someone to understand why it's fine that I own two Justin Timberlake cd's..

a full, rich day

2007-10-10T19:17:00.000-04:00

I'm fast beginning to think of Wednesdays as the cornerstone of my week. They always seem longer than any other day; more filled with seminars, sections and readings, etc. Once my last class on Wednesday is done, the rest of the week just sort of slides into the weekend. So I'm writing this after a satisfyingly long and productive day. I've been trying to solidify some of my reflections about my studies now that I've more "in the swing of things". So this post is an attempt in that vein.

I had a brief meeting this afternoon with the professor of my Darwinism seminar (imagine, an entire seminar on Darwin, is it any wonder I love Harvard?), and at the end of it we chatted briefly about being in the history of science more generally. It is a very interconnected discipline, and yet enormously expansive. I said earlier that I wanted to do a PhD because it gave me a chance to roll everything I'm interested in around in my head all day long. Well, the thoughts are rolling around in my mind with a vengeance...

For I have learned
To look on nature; not as in the hour
Of thoughtless youth; but hearing oftentimes
The still, sad music of humanity,
Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power
To chasten and subdue. And I have felt
A presence that disturbs me with the joy
Of elevated thoughts; a sense sublime
Of something far more deeply interfused,
Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns,
And the round ocean, and the living air,
And the blue sky, and in the mind of man:
A motion and a spirit, that impels
All thinking things, all objects of all thought,
And rolls through all things

Wordsworth, "Tintern Abbey"

By way of an example, here is a Wordsworth poem from the end of an address given Joseph Tyndall in 1873 which was one of my readings for this week. In my view (and I confess my professor's) the speech essentially encapsulates the modern vision of science and its place in our society. He and his colleagues from the time (all Darwinians, by the by) had a vision of a society in which all questions of morality, origins, ideas about humanity, consciousness, indeed everything, would be addressed by an elite group of discerning minds, i.e. scientists. It is vision of a world uncannily like our own, and I find it so interesting and reassuring that our understanding of science's place in our society has its roots in the not so distant past. The Wordsworth poem, obviously from an earlier period, was in Tyndall's mind a vision of nature imbued with the vitalizing light of scientific knowledge.

(The title of this post, as with all the others, is a really obscure quote.. designed primarily to amuse myself. I’m hoping my younger brother will pick up on this one though)

I am an island...

2007-10-08T20:22:00.000-04:00

When I was at Westmont, I had a long-standing love affair with the Santa Barbara Channel Islands. I even took an entire course just learning about their biogeography and history. There is something about islands that fascinates me; I think that if I had gone on in biology I might have ended up as an island biologist. As it is I content myself with reading historical island biogeography (Darwin, etc.) and novels about island castaways. The best, by the way, is Jules Vernes’ Mysterious Island.

All of this to say, that I spent part of the Columbus Day weekend camping on one of the islands in the Boston Harbor. (Yes, apparently New England celebrates Columbus Day, I think it’s pretty weird ) I went with a friend from Westmont days and some of her friends from church. I have to admit that islands don’t exactly compare to the ones off of Santa Barbara; for one, I’m fairly sure that the islands are reclaimed landfill sites. The one we camped on isn’t very far out, so I didn’t exactly feel as if I was “roughing it”. But overall it was lovely: sand dunes, sunset views of the Boston skyline, falling asleep to the crash of waves and waking up to the sound of rain outside our tent. It was a good reminder to me that even though I’ve given up being a field biologist, that doesn’t mean I’ve given up enjoying the creation. There is something incandescent about falling asleep outside; and I don’t mind sounding overly poetic by saying that. Whenever I go camping I want to go camping more, so I’m hopefully signing up for a Harvard hiking weekend in New Hampshire.

The rest of my Monday off was spent in the big research library, and then capped by a turkey dinner put on by the Canadian Club. Today, along with being the anniversary of Columbus and whatever it is he did, is also Canadian Thanksgiving. So yeah for our neighbors to the north and delicious turkey! I think my life at Harvard revolves around two things: reading and figuring out where I can find free food. I think graduate students develop a sixth sense for the latter, which may make the whole PhD enterprise seem a lot less glamorous. So far my life is fun, but not exactly glamorous.

a pocket full of miracles

2007-09-30T22:26:00.000-04:00

When I was cleaning out endless boxes at home this summer I came across a paper I had to write as a senior in high school. I was supposed to describe what a person could learn about me from looking at my wallet. It was kind of a stupid assignment, now that I think about it, and I think I rebelled against it a little bit. My response is surprisingly (and probably unnecessarily) passionate, as I assert that I cannot be defined by all the little cards in my pocket book. I suppose even at those tender years I already had that sense of being Myrna, and no one else.

Anyways, thinking about that paper sparked my mind a bit, as I’ve been rearranging all the cards in my wallet this evening. And I think you really could tell something about me from looking in it today, as everything speaks to being settled into a new life: I have a new bank card, credit card, ID card, subway card, membership cards to store we don’t have in Southern California, etc. I really do feel settled in my new life, though I am sorry that I haven’t posted more in order to document that settling in.

I realize I still am very much in the “honeymoon phase” of being at Harvard. But I do love it. I am developing a rhythm for my days and weeks that is even more to my taste than my time in Oxford. And that is saying a lot. Perhaps I’ll fit in a space in that routine for blog updating so I can make more specific observations on my life here. But right now I have to go work on my French. French may be the thing that pops my dreamy bubble about Harvard. Learning a language from scratch is no small thing, whatever optimistic things they tell you in thc course catalogue.

On Pleasure Bent Again

2007-09-04T21:30:00.000-04:00

I’m not sure if it’s acceptable to post twice in the same day, but of course it doesn’t actually matter. I’m just recognizing the fact that I’m doing this. I just wanted to relate a snippet of my trip to the Boston Science Museum. Our orientation weeks are almost entirely comprised of outings and fun, which so far suits me just fine. I think it gives everyone a chance to “orient” and experience parts of the city that escape us, once studies start.

I’m learning about my context, and today at the museum I got a taste of the natural history aspect. It is thrilling to live in a region of the country that is completely different from the Mediterranean climate that I grew up in. As I wandered through the “Hall of Birds” and “Mysteries of Classification”, I was struck by such a whirling of thoughts, it’s difficult to articulate them. (As I explained to someone yesterday, I think in webs, and so it is often difficult to string the thoughts out into linear sentences. Once I begin one sentence, I realize a connection to something else, and so I don’t finish a thought. Luckily there are many linear people who are willing to fill in the blanks for you). I was feverishly thinking about classification: what the impulse to classify says about us as people, why we come up with different systems and how those system reflect the values of the society from which they come… but also pondering the idea of museums: that the educational function can often be at odds with being a “library collection” of the natural history around us. And through all this, I longed to learn more about this corner of creation: to know the native birds, the species of oaks, the geography, etc.

Of course, none of these ideas are my own. I’ve collected them from various mentors along the way. But being in the natural history halls in the museum awakened my deepest thoughts; the ones that hardly discern the difference between academic interests and life questions. And that is enough excitement in one afternoon for anyone.

First Impressions

2007-09-04T20:43:00.000-04:00

I told someone today that I think I’ve become less cynical over the past year and half, and I think that might actually be true. Westmont can be so much about positive community that it’s easy to become dismissive and “too cool” for everything. But the further I get from my undergraduate experience, the more I’m grateful for community, ideals and the valuing of character. However, I think all this has landed at me at Harvard with a slightly wide eyed, softer persona than I may have possessed at this time last year. I hope my new acquaintances won’t think the less of me for it.

And so I’ve been here two and half days and the burning question is: what do I think? What are my first impressions? Of course, the answer is, it’s much too soon to tell. But we cannot help but have first impressions, so I’ll try to relate some of mine. Boston, is of course, gorgeous (at least what I have seen of it so far), and I’m excited to explore the nooks and crannies and discover my own favorite spots. In many ways it puts me in mind of being at Oxford, but I think that may be less of a resemblance between the two places as it is a similar degree of difference between the two and San Diego. I suppose one thing I like about Boston so far, is it is august and old, etc., but I already know that I will be able to claim it for my own. And that is a delightful thought.

As for Harvard, I have not experienced much of the school yet besides the accommodations and new acquaintances. I am quite content with the former, my room being just cozy enough with a handy walk in closet and a large window. As for the latter, so far there have been many, and as I have another week and half before classes there are likely to be many more. It feels very strangely like starting Westmont all over again, and yet worlds different. For one, there is such a diversity in the people I am meeting. I’ve met as many, if not more, international students as I have Americans. And the American students are from all over. Also, I am entirely less overwhelmed, perhaps because I’ve learned it’s not necessary to make friends with everyone the first week and also because I have a room to myself where I can retreat for some quiet. I am trying my best not to categorize the people I’m meeting as soon as I do, but it’s always difficult. I think we function in categories (how could I think otherwise, being interested in taxonomy), but I also think it valuable to break out of that. A good resolution, if nothing else.

A Make Believe of a Beginning

2007-08-28T01:35:00.000-04:00

On Saturday I'm leaving, leaving for five years for a city I've never been to and a coast that seems a world away. I've decided to try out keeping this blog in order to keep the people most dear to me informed and in touch with my life, although I have to admit to being still a little unsure about the whole process. Keeping a journal has long been an important part of my life, but precisely because it is a place to keep ideas and thoughts to myself. Blogging turns my whole journalling paradigm on its head, and so I think it will take me some time to find my own voice here.

But I have high hopes, mostly because I know there will be so much I will want to share about my new life at Harvard, that my posts will write themselves. So first, some foundation questions:

what?: As in, what exactly am I going to be doing, and what is the history of science? I've been telling people for the past year and half that I'm going into graduate work in this field and I think I've been giving somewhat vague descriptions about it the whole time. So get visions of me in a lab coat out of your mind, this is really just a specific field in history, rather like art history... aka science history. My particular interest is in the natural history, evolutionary theory and development of modern biology in the nineteenth century. At some point at Westmont I realized that as much as I loved the creation I didn't want to be a field biologist. For some crazy reason I'd rather read about other people doing science over 100 years ago than do it myself.

why? Because it means I get to hold onto all the things I love to think about: faith, literature, biology, colonialism, gender, evolution, taxonomy and swirl them around in my brain all day long! Also, at this point I do feel a sense of calling to teach college, and a doctoral program is the logical step in that direction. More abstractly, though, I think that science, and especially evolutionary theory are so tightly woven into our modern world that it is imperative we understand how and why that came to be.

These past two weeks have been about good byes; to friends in San Diego and most of all my family. I've been blessed by living at home for the past nine months and it is hard to pull up those roots. So here a couple pictures of some of my send off moments.. a tea party with my bible study and the wild animal park with my bros...