The Current

Usually I love to run daily. I am on break now, and wasn't motivated to do it today. I decided when I woke up, "Not today." I wonder how to be free in rest...to be at ease with a choice to slow down every once and a while. I wonder what it would be like to give up running and not to use it as a crutch for sanity, or as insurance that I stay fit. I only think about these things when I don't run; otherwise, I am reaping the benefits from running so much, that such questions don't even enter my head.

When I was sleeping in this morning, I felt unmotivated to approach the day. I wonder why that is? Is it the abrupt loss of purpose and mission that I feel from the cessation of schoolwork? Is it being in my home state, continuing relationships that are now so different than they were when I was a girl? (On that note, one of my relationships is much stronger and richer than it was when I was younger, so that is really cool to see...fruit being borne!)

I am thankful that most days, when I am in the throes of a semester, I am immediately swept into the current of the day, without thinking through so intensely (or at such length) the meaning of its contents and actions. If I thought through all I did beforehand so long, nothing would ever get done. I am thankful for the current, and look forward to being swept up in it. The only danger then is, forgetting my need. In more contemplative times like now, I feel my need and realize I am not a self-reliant machine with all joyful output. I rely on a source to fuel me: my Provider. In this light, I'm not stalling, but I am refueling.

Spine Issues, Rib Issues

Beth Moore did it again: great analogy.

In a discussion of Christ's second coming, she talks about what is core and what is peripheral to Christian beliefs. There are the absolutes, and then there is wiggle room: "Some issues are spine issues. They are fundamental to our Christian belief system. ... Others are rib issues. On these our views can go in different directions, yet we can respect one another deeply."

There are many reasons I love belonging to Christ, but I've got to say, being free in Christ is one of my very favorite parts of being His. I love that He allows us, even designed for us, to diverge at certain points, but remain one in body. Does not the nuclear family have the same dynamic: many personalities, one bloodline, one household?

Significant Others

Your close friends help you see yourself, like looking in a mirror reveals both your beauties and your flaws. That's part of the idea behind classical sociologist Charles Cooley's idea of the "Looking-Glass Self:" we derive our feelings about ourselves largely from how others esteem us. Cooley points out that this is especially true when it comes to our significant others (S.O.).

My S.O. is often my mirror. Yesterday, when T passed on a compliment from his friend to me, I pounced at the opportunity to "primp" in this so-called "mirror." I wanted to gobble down the compliments, as T put it. He then enacted a person scarfing down imaginary food with ravenous gobbling sounds and hand gestures. I got the message well in that moment: Tis not good to be too hungry for positive reflections! The nature of the compliment was about a topic I already knew about myself, so indulgence in it was not necessary. The line between humility and pride! I now see something new, that our S.O.'s can help us tred those lines delicately. Where we are proud, they can call us out; where we need encouragement and to hear positive truths about ourselves, they lift us up. Since two metaphors isn't enough for one blog post, may I add, as iron sharpens iron?

I won't be a Mara, no matter who is my Neighbor

God's commandments are easy, so long as they're abstract. As soon as specifics factor in, they're impossible.*

I have serious problems loving the way Jesus wants me to. As soon as I make someone out to be harmful in my mind -- as someone who doesn't care about me or wants to take my joy away -- I am as unforgiving to him/her in my mind as pound cake is to a sweets addict's body. I basically stop thinking in the light and enter into complete darkness, where every turn of the road leads to more negative thinking. (Luke 11:33-36)

Jesus wants me not to "like" my neighbor, but to love him/her. He wants me to see my neighbor as a piece of the reflection of God's image (because that's what s/he is, just like me). Also, He wants me to serve him/her -- not just tolerate him/her, not speak badly of him/her, or pretend I love him/her (Hertz 2007). Remember how Jesus treated his betrayers? He washed their feet.

Why service works to transcend ugly feelings and negative thoughts: it allows you to beat out mushy feelings, which are equally bad in terms of loving and not loving someone. It FREES you from enslaving feelings. When it comes to learning to love in general, action counts more than words or intentions or wishes. (Do you hear DC Talk in the distant background? "I said love -- love is a verb!")

So there I am. I can see where I stand now in my spiritual-relational terrain: caught up in wishes and intentions, but without service, no real heart change. As Hertz puts it: First pray for the neighbor, then continually look out for a way to help him/her. At that point, "it's very hard to think they're worthless. It's very hard to stay mad at them."

So here's my prayer today: That I serve, and really be free from the negative, self-pitying, never-ending dark path that is my alternative. God's really protecting me when He commands me to love my neighbor. He's leading me in a better direction, to a place where I won't become a Mara (embittered).

* which is why we need Jesus.

Heart-full research

Yesterday, I conducted 6 interviews for my project about teacher retention. Today, I am still considering all their thoughts, all the paradoxes, good points to reflect on, ideas they caused me to have about ways that might actually work for boosting teacher retention. But most of all, beyond my head being full of ideas and swirling with connections and common themes among the group, my heart is utterly full from this research.

Interviewing is the easy part. I love sitting with people and talking about a subject I have experience in. I get to sit with them and reflect on the profession dearest to me. I am intrinsically invested in this topic, and in this back-door way to stay vicariously involved in public schooling.

I wish I could be some of my subjects' friends. I wish I could spend more time with them, but alas, that breaks social research protocol and also, and interview is an interview. It only lasts for x amount of minutes. But instead of mourning this fact, I am simply reveling in the fact that my life's work allowed my path to cross with theirs just one more time, and this time, in a more valuable way than would have been if I were merely their coworker. Now I hope that I do their voices justice in the next stage -- the more demanding part: data analysis.

Pathetic Little Book

So I definitely should be reading right now. But I really want to write this down before I forget!

What is the best way to build a book collection? And by 'best,' I mean, simultaneously the most inexpensive, effective, and sentimental approach? Here's how:

It's your day to present on the week's readings. You design a nice presentation, practice it, read every last word of the book and two companion articles. Being the experienced student you are, you found this book in the library's stacks and checked it out months ago, so you're ready to go. You proceed with book notes on your own notebook paper, instead of in the book's margins, since the book isn't yours to keep (obviously). You're not deterred by the book's humble canvas-y cloth cover and binding, in its dreary dark blue hue. It's clean and free, is it not? And not terribly worn either. Just a little aged.

So towards break time of my presentation, my professor comments on my book: "You got that out of the library?" (incredulous.) "Yeah," I say, unaffected. "I have a couple of extra copies in my office. You can have one." He laughs his good-natured laugh. Basically, he was saying, what's a decent grad student like you doing trumping around with a raggedy, poor excuse for a book...on LOAN, of all things? Clearly, my miserly ways are not totally acceptable in the grad student role. In fact, this here may be a transgression of the role. I'm willing to re-evaluate my role performance for a moment, but kid not I a soul: I won't part with my economical ways.

When I stopped in his office today on an unrelated errand, it was he who remembered to give me the book. "I mean, that one was just pathetic," he said with a laugh. This one, a shiny, youthful blue paperback copy with bold red streak designs across the front, "is much better," he said.

Coupon Queen (my childhood alias) strikes again! In a new way!

"Remember the 3 Ts: Things Take Time"

Great quote found on FB page of a former girl for whom I was a summer camp counselor. Now she's counseling me!

Transplanting

It's Saturday morning. As I look back over the week, I am pleased with the amount of work and getting out of my apartment I did! In fact, the two go together, it seems. Don't get me wrong, home is the best place to pound out large amounts of academic work in pajamas, all while near the coffee maker. But, being outside of my room and dining room and the sofas in the front room help me stick to my task. On Tuesday, I treated myself to a bubble tea and read half a book in one three-hour sitting. I have barely ever been so into my reading as I was that day! Then I took a one hour run, then went to the library on campus for the first time ever from 9-1 a.m. After a good time of searching, I found myself a desk coral (sp?) and was able to work undistracted on a large assignment due that following morning. Wednesday morning, I finished the assignment off at a local Einstein Bagel coffee shop, about one mile from my house. That Wednesday I also had a 3-hour root canal operation completed, and in the afternoon met with a woman to start tutoring (to pay for the teeth. For more on my feelings about teeth, see a previous post...fortunately, I have grown very fond my my dentist here, which might be a little sad, because that's like my form of being social, LOL!). To top it off, I had lacrosse practice that day AND went to an Emory community event, where the legendary and vigorous duo Woodward and Bernstein spoke.

This previous weekend, T's cousin took us out to classic Atlanta hang outs, 2 lounges. We also went to a great burrito place in Decatur. We enjoyed the park with a lake and long hanging pedestrian bridge near my condo, too, Lullwater Park. Basically, I am getting to know my surroundings, and am getting attached. YES! Transplanting!

Letting 'letting go' do its work

So I realized this morning a recurring event in my life: what I had made a stressful thing became far less stressful as soon as I let go of it. And the pieces fell into place...later. The letting-go process isn't immediate, by any means, but when my own attempt to force my way finally reaches a pronounced point of no effect, like I have passed the deadline for it to work out, then God is giving me the grace to finally have the ability to let go. And how many times, how often, has God demonstrated to me that He is interested in my dreams? After all, He provided me even with the embryonic passion! Before I even desired, He desired it for me.

So this is to say, I am again in that spot of confident, grace-filled, letting-go! What will happen next? in His care, I can proceed confident that His grace and presence will meet me anywhere I go (next).

The Job I Love

I am grading undergrads' essay exams now. I am realizing, this is what I am missing in life right now. I am feeling the emptiness of role loss and transition. I need to get back into teaching somehow! I don't know if tutoring will cut it. I need a classroom. I really miss my students...they are LIFE to me.

This weekend, I will need to read Annette Lareau's Home Advantage. I can't help but pray to God that my dissertation work mirrors hers. How totally inspiring and invigorating. She sat in on an upper-class and working-class elementary classroom for an extended period of time (a year, maybe?) and got deeply intrenched in the parents' and teachers' lives. Plus she did some really impressive qualitative field notes coding. She poured her blood, sweat, and tears into that work, and it came out SO GOOD.

I hang on to P's words: "I see you pioneering something big in the area of sociology of education, especially with teachers." I am remembering this morning WHY I am here, and where I hope to be one day, who I hope to be teaching, what I hope to be writing. May God give me the grace to persevere and cling to those dreams! Yes, it is grace, because I need not only endurance, but also an increased measure of His love so that I do it in a way to glorify Him-- not in a socially-absent or isolated way.

Elaboration & a new book

I said I was going to elaborate on why I admire Kozol, Park, Lareau, Pizzigoni, etc. Let me limit my elaboration to, each of them do their work passionately. Respectively, they: have a fierce sympathy for their subjects, the ability to inspire sociology students deeply and the courage to foresake his elite affiliations in order to teach in HBCUs in later life; the tenacity to redo an enormous qualitative study when the first approach of organizing and interpreting data wasn't good enough; and a devotion to rich lecturing that I can't help but envy already! I long to do, have these attitudes, accomplishments, traits. Let it be a healthy envy... motivation by admiration.

remember my chapter by chapter reflections to Jane Jacobs' book? Well, I want to do the same -- albeit more abridged (given the constraints of being in grad school now) -- with a book called "The Sociologically examined life." It is a great choice for me to read now, because I hope it will keep me loving this field. I have every confidence that I will stay in that condition (loving it), but any opportunity to fuel the fire will be seized happily!

The chapter I started in, after perusing the table of contents, had to do with understanding ourselves by understanding others, and the mirage of "personal" choices. First, the author, Michael Schwalbe, points out that blacks know more about whites than vice vera, or even than whites do about themselves, because they have had to examine them closely for their own survival. The ones (or group) with more power is thus the group with less self awareness. Interesting! The (a?) drawback of having power. Second, the author argues, there's no such thing as a choice we make that has no bearing, directly or indirectly, on others (perfect example: an unplanned pregnancy). I love this next point: "It is not always easy to see how this is so, and in some cases we may not want to see" (p. 52).

If I could be like anyone...

...I'd like to be like sociologists Annette Lareau, Robert Park, Jonathan Kozol, or my Latin American history professor from Columbia, Caterina Pizzigoni. Elaboration to follow.

Natural Limitations

Romans 6:19 I am speaking in human terms, because of your natural limitations. ... present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to sanctification.

I have a lot of stress and anxiety in my spirit lately. It's causing me to be unusually pessimistic, isolated, and fretful. Now, as during the period following Dad's death, I am facing that fear of becoming someone I don't want to be, of somehow losing my essence to external forces. But God has shown me that He won't allow that. He did it then, and He will do it now.

I love this verse, which I encountered late this morning. It basically tells me that yeah, God knows we have human weaknesses and failures, and that our limitations, those times when we feel overwhelmed or at the end of our own resources and familiar coping strategies, are not abnormal. These are part of being human, i.e., such that Paul's letter is written to us, in our language ("human terms"). Otherwise, he would be writing in say...political terms (for the power hungry), or psychological terms (for the success hungry), or economical terms (for the security hungry), etc. etc.

Graduate school has already taught me so much! In the words of P., it will teach me to come to value my intellect as my inexhaustible reservoir of strength in times of uncertainty. I am amazed at how the spirit and the intellect are connected...

Missing you, Dad

Dennis Nelson, RIP October 10, 2007

Little did I see your departure coming, Dad. But God gave me the grace to make it through those weeks and year following your death. And He still is, to this day.

Sometimes I wonder if living off of the memory of you is enough. Like a car running off fumes. When I think about all that lies before me, I am very intimidated. If only you were here to take some of the pressure off.

But then I think, it's OK that you aren't here. God is keeping me, just as He kept you. I think by far the hardest challenge to me in my life, Dad, as I live out the rest of my days, is to trust God more. I don't know why I am reluctant sometimes, after all the good He has done in my life, after all the ways He has proven His love. I wish you were here to tell me so. But I have friends who remind me always of God's faithfulness, abundant supply of grace, His strength in our weakness.

Dad, I want to remember you today, to pause my life and examine if it is honoring you. For the most part it is, but there are areas I can improve in, too. I know that as my father you would be gently leading me towards strength and goodness. You made a peaceful life possible for me, and I thank you for that.

How do I continue your legacy? The positive things you did your successes as a father? You did do much right. Today, I want to remember what you did, what you said, but most of all, how you loved.

* the watch you went to repair before I returned to Columbia
* the way you always wanted to have me home and spent time with me
* the comfortable day-to-day life we shared when I lived at home
* the incredible way you managed to let go of me when I went off to college
* your contagious hopes for my future
* your well-read-ness, transferred down to me
* the calm sanctuary you kept, providing me with a home (imperfect as it was at times)
* dinners you cooked
* hugs you gave
* jokes you carried on through the years
* softball and lacrosse games you attended
* gentle but firm discipline of your teeneaged Jemmer
* newspaper clippings of stories you thought I would care about
* educating me, loving me, knowing me, like few others do.

Filled with Skill

All the women whose hearts stirred them to use their skill spun the goats' hair. ... See, the Lord has called by name ... and he has filled them with the Spirit of God, with skill, with intelligence, with knowledge, with all craftsmanship, to devise artistic designs ... And he has inspired them to teach ... He has filled them with skill to do every sort of work done by an engraver or by a designer or by an embroiderer - by any sort of workman or skilled designer. (Exodus 35: 26, 30-35)

OK, so now's the time to concede that any skill any of us have, it comes by God's filling us. He pours both abilities and the "heart stirrings" to use them. How often have you seen people with skill, but no motivation to use it? Well, the remedy is simple. Turn to the Provider of these things.

These verses make me realize a few things. So graduate school would probably be agreed to be the time when one gets filled with intelligence. But today I recognize, that though I myself do the reading and writing, the whole time, it is God providing that transfer of knowledge from the ether into my own fibers. Another point: God gifts us in very specific skills, skills that the most secular of artisans can respect and admire. We're talking serious skill here. How can I not be excited, that He has promised me some serious skill, and the heart stirrings to use it? It's all in the name of His glory. Let it so be, God.

Socks

Today when I woke up, I was surprisingly cold inside my own house. It's the top of October, and it feels like it, too. I like when expectations and reality align. So my shorts and T-shift PJs wouldn't do during my pre-church reading. I whipped out the comfy lounging yoga pants, and a pair of fuzzy slipper-socks, striped white, grey and pink, in my bottom drawer with all that other random stuff: belts to certain dresses, my lacrosse uniform, etc.

I received these socks as a Christmas gift from a student from my first year of teaching. I think she graduated early last year. Behaviorally, she wasn't an angel, but she wasn't a devil either. Academically, she was the best of both worlds: very conscientious, and legitimately smart. Socially, very adept, polite, cute, engaging, sprightly (I am wondering if that means what I think it means...bubbly?). I saw P. and her mom at a DQ on Ellis Rd. after a tennis game one night. I was embarassed because I was in my tennis outfit that showed a lot of thigh. Fortunately, it was not as big of a deal as I thought at the time.

Anyhow, these socks, they continue to keep me warm 3 winters later. I miss P. and her peers very, very much.

Teeth

OK, so I should be writing a paper on educational theory right now, so I will be brief and get right back to it.

I was thinking, wow, teeth and their care are unbelievably expensive. Feel me on this: My student dental plan cost $327, with a $50 initial deductible. This covers up to $750 of dental work for the CALENDAR YEAR. I have two teeth needing root canals, which at reasonable prices is $675 a piece. Crowns are $900 a piece. A root canal covered by my insurance is $135, and a crown is $450. OK, I can handle this, I thought, as I whipped my calculator out.

Uhh...not so fast. That $750 limit means about 1 and one quarter root canals will be covered, and that is IT. So this is what my dad meant when he said it was more fun to be a kid.

Then I got to thinking, how on earth do the poor care for their teeth? If I as a financially solvent (usually), educated, upwardly mobile, white woman am seeing all my savings go to my teeth, then how will the person who is on the margins (in other words, a lot of traits that I am not) handle such expenses? Dental health is no small issue in relation to mortality, either. This is a major public health issue; maybe I should research it instead of distant communities for my religion and public health class.

Finally, my thoughts on this subject are, stop calculating numbers, Jennifer; God has provided for you and will continue to do so. So I asked God to help me stop thinking about it, figuring numbers as if I was back in the 9th grade, desperately trying to figure the lowest grade I could score on my algebra II final exam in order to scrape by with an A (90.1). With God, I've never barely scraped by.

Teeth...who knew, such a thought, blood pressure, and spirit provoking topic? I see dentists as suddenly interesting.

Peace ≠ Boredom

I admit, I agree with my friend C's hesitancy to be excited about peace. Here's something to change that thinking. The result will be either excitement, or deep thinking, or both.

Isaiah 26:3: You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You.

This doesn't mean a stable mind with no complexity. Rather, an imperfect mind can still attain a deep sense of safety, completeness, wholeness, friendliness, healthiness and soundness, which all serve to present one's inner being (mind) as being in a satisfied condition, a condition of well being. Here's the best part: a peaceful mind indicates "a prosperous relationship between two or more parties" (taken from Beth Moore).

This is ripe for application between you and God and between you and the people you love most. Learning the Hebrew synonyms for "peace" shows me just how much I am not, at times, really, truly honest in my most important relationships. A truly healthy, prosperous relationship is one where a completeness and wholeness is achieved, or realized. This requires a full giving of self, no pretending. What peace is there in pretending?

I'd also like to add that a sense of security no matter what happens or what's said is an indication of true or real love. Stability in the midst of chaos: is this not what Jesus has given us on the cross? Where our sin drowned(s) us in confusion and emotional deadweight, his salvation gave(gives) us bounancy. That is, stability. How else would we be able to do great things in this life, if always fighting a pending sense of doom?

Dynamism

I figured out what makes me really like particular TV series: the main characters are both lovable and hatable. It's really gratifying to me to be brought through the writer's plan of characters' development, especially when a specific character goes from being one I hate to one I see through a more empathetic lens. It's like a drama is helping to break up the rigidity and hatefulness and judgment in my inner places. Now, if only I can apply the exact same progress in my real life! Break up my judgments and put empathy in their place! That's right- evict judgmentalism! Through the enjoyment of a 43-minute TV show! OK, maybe that's a little far-fetched.

Shows where this has been the case have extremely multi-faceted (in literature, we call these dynamic [changing] and round [unpredictable, many-sided]) main characters. In One Tree Hill, those characters are Brook and Dan. Oh, the psychology of that dad! In Mad Men, it's Don and Betty. Both go through exceedingly ugly phases in their marriage, and show glimmers of hope towards breaking unhealthy behaviors or seeing through a window of self-awareness for the first time. In Friday Night Lights, it's Lyla. She seems emotionally bankrupt, but actually, she's got plenty of depth in her heart matters and how and why she chooses  to handle situations as she does. Plus, she's gone through feeling guilty, so I think that reduces her judgmentalism.

I miss my students.

I am relishing, and I mean absolutely relishing, being on the lacrosse team here. I love being around undergrad girls. I am only 3-4 years older than most of them, but they give me a joy and energy and feeling of youth that makes me really happy. Practice today left me exhausted. I thought I was in shape; 15 minutes of scrimmaging caused me to think again!

I am looking to join a women's Bible study with people outside of Emory. That should be refreshing and encouraging. More on that when it comes.

BUT. I am missing my students, a LOT. How can I get them (obviously, the Atlanta versions of them) back into my life....and soon? My church is no longer multi-racial. I do not work in a (basically) all-black school anymore. I don't see and work alongside black colleagues and adults anymore. I feel like there's a hole in who I was while I was in the teacher corps. I need these teens back in my life! But how?

"Layers, my dear, layers."

I love this comment, my best friend's interpretation of the complex and contradictory inner workings of a person. Discovering the struggles and conflicts within when faced with an uncomfortable new arrangement of living is definitely worthwhile, so long as there is a friend there to ease the discovery of self, which can sometimes be a blow! I think Jesus would agree with this, very much, for in the course of life, we are destined to unveil our imperfections and flaws continuously -- just as we unveil our strengths and victories in a continuous, ongoing manner -- and it is love that enables us to keep growing and not be stunted by the difficulty of layers.

I miss you.

Here's how I know I love you:

1. You're the first one I want to tell good news to.
2. Your laughter is my favorite sound. It feels like an embrace. You invite people into your love with your laugh.
3. You are the one I want by my side through every season of life.
4. No day is dark when you are with me.
5. You are the desired recipient of all my creative energies.
6. I can be, and have to be, honest with you. I can't let anything get in the way. No clouds allowed!
7. Time passes so slowly in your absence. (Maybe this is merely evidence that I long for you.)

Here's how I know you love me:

1. You don't hold my weaknesses against me.
2. You are patient with me.
3. You want me around. You want to know what I think, why I think it.
4. You encourage me. Nurture me. Soothe me.
5. You share with me: stuff, food, loved ones, thoughts, feelings.

Strength

Cesar Chavez once said, "You are never strong enough that you don't need help."

My mom-figure sent me a postcard two weeks ago that said, "thinking about what a strong woman you are." Which made me feel so good about myself until I read the next part, buried under the postage barcode marks: " ... strong Swedish stock!" Well, not that that's anything to be ashamed of, but I was hoping she meant my character was strong, as opposed to by body.

I do think I am pretty strong, but that strength isn't due to myself. Rather, I've simply seen God be strong in me, especially at certain times. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I simply have no other source.

As I am living in a season of missing the ones I love, one most of all, I am not blind to the new love and zest for life that He is putting in my path even now. Even though I am away from home, I am coming to regard this new place, the cite of my new productivity and growth, a new kind of home- a home that will incubate me and develop that same strength, the kind of strength that glows reassuringly under the surface. It's not bold (at least I can't see it that way right now, anyway), but it is persistent and sure. This strength I find in God will not fade. I can always use His help, even on the day when it seems everything has been provided for me.

In the week ahead, may that strength well up and be visible and winsome...

A Joint Enterprise

Roommate: a friend to cohabit your living space; a person with whom you can coexist and who helps you lower your cost of living; or, hopefully, some manageable combination of the two.

I have mixed feelings on and mixed experiences with roommates. First year of college- strained, stayed out of the room as much as I could. Second year of college- had a single room. bliss. Third year- 6-girl suite heaven. I won't ever have that experience again!! First year in MS- two roommates; one, didn't work out, the other, became a beloved friend who I loved dearly and was totally comfortable with and was so happy to come home to. 2nd and 3rd years, MS- I wasn't really close with these roommates, but it was livable. With the first, I wanted more of a friendship; with the second, I often felt bad for not being more of a friend.

Now in Atlanta, I have a new roommate. I am starting to like her more by the day; we have a lot in common: our age, faith, place of origin, tastes in things in general. I am actually for the first time really getting excited about getting to know her. She is great to come home to.

I wanted to post this short blog to say, it is so nice to have someone to share life with. Meaning, someone with whom to build a household. And for this season of my life, it's roommates; we split buying household needs and goods. Another step towards adulthood: check!

DLGAC, Chapters 15-22 (the end)

I've gotten behind in my reading. Shock!

"Unslumming and Slumming": First thing to come to mind is, why in this order? Seems backwards. Jacobs attacks the superficial means for solving the slum problem; when planners "clean up" an area by putting a project there to get higher tax yields, or lure less-expensive-to-support populations back to an area, these are merely shifting slums, not remedying them. She sites Gans' work on the West End of Boston [which I read in Marwell's theory class), which is regarded as a slum but is actually a "stable, low-rent area" where residents are intensely attached to their neighborhood and its upkeep. Also, when people stay by choice, it is practical to stay, where newcomers still come, and where there is a thriving sense of urban vitality, all these factors keep slumming at bay. Jacobs addresses how the city grows the middle class, but this is the class it most often loses, for the above reasons. She urges that this emergent middle class in vital low-rent areas is the "greatest regenerative force" for an energetic economy, but is sadly thwarted because it is regarded as "social untidiness and economic confusion" (290).

"Gradual Money and Cataclysmic Money": There are three sources of money for building in cities: the biggest share is credit from non-gov't lending institutions. The second is gov't moneys, either from taxes or through borrowing power. (Did you know some residences and business properties are financed this way?! I'd like to know what businesses in Jackson were financed by gov't help.) The third source is from investment money (its source being mostly concealed). Jacobs takes an interesting stance on the moral difference between these money sources, as to the private vs. publicness, and legitimacy vs. illegitimacy. She urges that gradual money is healthier for a city, as buildings require constant upkeep after the novelty is gone (remember Pruitt-Igoe?). On the cataclysmic side are the agents of city decay, such as credit blacklisting, which is done when the bank and planners create maps with spot-clearance, excluding help in areas projected to be slums. (I admit, I didn't go into intense detail or probing with this chapter. There is much for me to learn here, in money matters!)

Part IV: Different Tactics (Last Section)

SUBSIDIZING DWELLINGS: Herein Jacobs rails against the government as landlord, as it goes about housing people who cannot afford housing today. She indicts the way these peoples' rents are used almost exclusively on local admin, maintenance and running expenses - i.e., paying combaters of vandalism and sitters in conferences on how to improve project safety. Rather, Jacobs suggests a proper use of subsidy monies, by a "guaranteed rent method," in which there are no low-income ceilings for people which will de-qualify them for subsidized housing. Rather, when this happens, the tenant ought to take up ownership of his unit. Soon, private vs. public housing becomes in-differentiable. Jacobs also makes the point here that it is very important to not transform or replace subsidized housing too quickly; gradual change will bring about the victory of "holding as many people as possible by choice over time" (334).

ATTRITION OF AUTOMOBILES I found this to be a rather dull chapter, except for the fact that I have been witnessing of late, since my move to Atlanta, the true war between cars and pedestrians. Cars don't like the anxiety the pedestrians' safety produces upon them; pedestrians hate waiting for proper times and places to cross. One interesting thing I learned is that some traffic, especially of trucks and buses, is essential for the vitality of a city.  OK, so maybe this chapter wasn't so dull, because it also got me thinking, which pressure has given way in Jackson: cars over peds, or peds over autos? Definitely the former. In Atlanta, the latter is making headway, although the disincentives of driving aren't quite high enough to eliminate large numbers of one-drive-only private automobiles. Jacobs says equilibrium has been achieved in no american city as of yet. Of course, this was written in the 60's.

Did you know one-way traffic is a solution to alleviate congestion?! I had no idea that was its purpose. Another golden nugget of Jacobs' philosophy -- that no remedy applied to city life comes without a consequence or new problem -- was illustrated by her point that large parking garages actually erode city vitality, even though they aimed to enhance its economy. In this chapter I finally learned the controversy about Robert Moses, which I never understood before. He was park commissioner in NYC in the 30's, and tried various adjustments to Central Park to get heavy traffic flow to be permitted around or through it, both of which were turned down. Oh, New Yorkers and their protectiveness of their Perfect City dreams!

VISUAL ORDER: As the upper limit of complexity, cities cannot be works of art, Jacobs claims. Art and life aren't the same things; for life, better design strategies and tactics are needed. So, in sum, I like this chapter's premise: practicality first, art second, around the skeleton of practicality. Clear thinking about city planning therefore starts with an understanding that cities ought not aim to be works of art, foremost. What cities need is for their "remarkable functional order [to be] clarified" (377). On the same token, art/design ought not interfere with function; they can co-operate and coexist. The minimization of the impression of endlessness, and artful tactics of suggestion and emphasis, can be well applied to a functional cityscape. Using very well organized writing, Jacobs lays out exact, practical ways artful principles such as these can be applied to cities in a functional, life-giving way. Is this kind of application-/prescription-heavy writing sociological? Or are we now in a different era of sociology, one which is less amelioration-based/driven? Is this because we think this posture in academia is somehow more appropriate or respectable? And why is that? Who decided that and catalyzed that shift in thinking?

SALVAGING PROJECTS Again Jacobs uses this chapter to be a practitioner of specific remedies to this particular city illness: projects laid to waste.

GOVERNING AND PLANNING DISTRICTS Coordinating city planning and mapping and zoning ad building is a behemoth of a process. Jacobs thus advocates for the development of a "'Metropolitan Government,'" which is comprised of separate localities which come together into a federation of powers only for the explicit cause of corporate planning. This is in contrast to what she calls "municipal bigness:" the planners-conquer-all approach, which leave localities helpless to change.

THE KIND OF PROBLEM A CITY IS In this chapter, Jacobs dabbles back into the philosophical side of comprehending city problems. She holds that the common, misguided camp's approach to city planning is that cities are problems of simplicity (or of disorganized complexity, which are then easily reduced or  converted to problems of simplicity), whereas the appropriate approach to city problems is to treat them as problems of organized complexity. The philosophical underpinnings to this is the understanding that problem solving only works when you understand what kind of problem it is. Cities have organized complexity because their "variables are many, but they are not helter-skelter; they are 'interrelated into an organic whole'" (433). Thus, Jacobs pushes for studying cities in a process-driven, inductive, attention-paid-to-the-anomalies fashion - just as she just exhibited for us in this masterpiece of hers! Too bad its genius ca't be duplicated now! This work can only be original once.

In her final page, Jacobs trumpets the city as king (or rather-and I don't know why this is that I like to imagine the city as a feminized power, a queen...is that not the popular imagination of a city? Like that of a ship as being a "she"?) because it is the only place that is a stage for productive innovation and the stunning "juxtaposition of talents." The best cities generate enough energy not just for themselves, but to meet needs and solve problems outside themselves.

THE END

Decline & Regeneration: Beware Duplication and Border Vacuums

In this section (ch. 13-14), Jacobs identifies destructive and helpful powers towards killing or enlivening a city.

On destructive force is the continual shifting of a city's center. This happens because a popular locale will become a fad and be reproduced, but will lose its luster with time, as what was once original becomes the norm. As Jane writes, "Diversity is crowded out by the duplication of success" (247). What's needed to protect city vitality, then, are ordinaces that defend against excessive dupication of restuarants, or whatever the thing was that caused the inital economic boom for that prospering areas.

A second source of city decline are the deadening border zones used to separate different areas - i.e., the most classic example being railroad tracks. Also, Morningside Heights Park in NYC is a boarder, with sidewalk use there deadened by the perception of them as insecure areas. Another boarder zone can be a place with one-way traffic - people on one side going and coming, but people on the other side never crossing out of their own side. Borders are active, she argues; they are infertile, unused areas, usually, leading to an "unbuilding, or running-down process" (259). The insightful point here is that running-down is an active movement in a particular direction---even though, true enough, entropy takes less energy than building an area up. I was curious to see what Jane would suggest as a remedy for this problem.

At this point, Jane finally discusses Cetnral Park - you may recall I've been awaiting her view on it. She suggests turning barriers into seams; moving attractions of intensive use to the perimeter, such as zoos, mueums, ponds, rinks, cafes, chess houses, carousels. If the border isn't along a park, relying on counterforces, such as intentionally large and diverse populations, can protect city vitality. Finally, Jacobs argues against pedestrian street schemes if they create borders.

Speaking of walkways reminds me of T.'s recent comment, as we drove down State Steet, that he thinks college campuses ought to hold off on sidewalk construction at first, see where students themselves want to walk, then pave those routes. T. and Jacobs would get along; both see orthodox planning efforts as cou terproductive. When I mentioned to T. that I've noticed heavy use of an outdoor public space - med students and nurses and patients who sit cross-legged near the crosswalk along State Street - I said that I thought a bench should be put there. He disagreed, saying that he thinks it would chase the initial users there, who like it for the fact that they can sit in grass. The users of the space - as unplanned of a socail space as it could possibly be - have already defined it in terms they like and utilize routinely. Why mess with it? Why interfere with organic success?

A City's Personality

When suburbs or towns zone and plan, they aim to avoid the ugly messiness of cities where the old and new cohabit. But to avoid the monotony of homogeneity, but still capture the visual order and "pleasant esthetic" (223), suburban planners will opt for and get, what Jane scathingly calls "results of vulgarity and dishonesty" (229). I assume she means places like the Renaissance Mall, where there is nothing but a "city guise" ... all the while, anyone who has been in a real city isn't surprised to learn that its walls are literally made of painted and molded styrofoam.

It is by reading Jacobs that my eyes have been open in admiration and understanding of Fondren. Truly, it is a city-pocket that can boast "radical inherent difference" in architectural style and building use.

Jane argues, again using very moral diction, that diversity, and the peculiar and unppredictable uses it sprouts, is "one of the missions of cities" (238). Out of fear that diversity in scale of buildings together in one place will "explode" a street, for instance, diversity is "unnecessarily suppressed" (238). Supressed indeed is the suburban landscape, in its ironic inefficiency and social dryness, compared to the city that hits the planning bullseye, as Fondren does. (OK, maybe I am bringing biad into this.) Only in the city will the strange and the rational be found together, linked by questions. When I studied at Columbia, I found that to be true; the city constantly bombards one with images and social scenes that confront one to examine her own beliefs, and why. In the suburbs, such questions aren't raised; the visual landscape is no catalyst of personal growth.

My Only Guarantee

"Although my parents have been wonderful and my husband is an excellent provider, the reality is this: God is my only guarantee. The Knower of all my needs is the sole Meeter of all my needs." - Beth Moore

I'd like to amend Moore's statement by adding to parents, and aunts and brother, and changing husband to boyfriend. She is so, so right. It is a thing only God can do, to balance one in a position of gratitude and adequate vulnerability to open ourselves to love in our human relationships, and yet, never put those loved ones in the position of filling God's role. My parents, aunts, brother, friends and boyfriend cannot ever provide me with all I need to survive. They do not know nor can they meet all of my needs. Not saying that they don't want to, but they simply cannot. They have deep needs, too, which I can never meet. The more I expect my loved ones to resolve my problems for me, and set me free from my sin and hurt, the more I am removing God from His proper place.

Stinginess & the Beauty of Contrast

Did you know you can be stingy if you're only buying things for someone to prove you aren't stingy? This is a perfect example of righteousness without a changed heart. I recently ruined my largesse by erupting in a point of insecurity, "But, I bought you this and this and this!" Old generational lifestyles and habits die HARD. Who knew my dad's miserliness to the point of social death would carry on in me and be a thorn in my own flesh?! Be a challenge in my interpersonal relationships as an adult? On the one hand, it is admirable to save and be mindful of expenses, not to be wasteful or frivolous. But on the other, it is sad to realize my own fixation on the symbolic value of money in relationships. That is a downside to being one who speaks in the gifts love language. Thanks, Dad! Well, the positive to come out of this is not being broke, and also being inclined to think up good, practical gift ideas. To every point of fallenness, God has provided the redeemed side of it, too. Ah, the beauty of contrast.

Prayer: God, save me from my fix-it mentality, as if I can force myself into un-stinginess! Even my best efforts at generosity carry that shadow of that same old stinginess. I can't fake new life; only You can put it there!

Mixed Use, City Blocks, Old Buildings, and Population Density

Chapter 8

Here, Jane repeats her main thesis: that a city spot will thrive (safety-wise, economically, in vibrancy) if a diversity of people use it at a diversity of times. As such, I was able to skim much of it. The only fresh thing is her vantage point: she is fighting for primary use buildings as essential in remedying the unbalance of users in an area, as this is the root of city decay. Precepts of orthodox planning and one of its approaches to revitalization, the clean-it-up approach, is nothing but an expensive quick fix, in Jane's eyes, because they do not emphasize or prioritize the primary use. Furthermore, often the places city planners choose to clean up are already thriving off of the principles of mixed use.
A second myth Jane dispels is that nice-looking, well-kept residences are the cause of vitality in an area; rather, the truth is that houses start to be taken care of and get face lifts after the district has found its balance of users. Nice houses are a sign that vitality has already taken place. Say a new museum has brought visitors to an area on weekends and in afternoons, whereas it was previously dead then. That primary use building becomes a "chessman," because it converts pawns to queens (167)! (Wow, what a fabulous analogy: creative, memorable, but still belonging in academic text.)
Jane's word use usually gets my imagination flowing, with the exception of her loose use of "economic." She states that mixing people together on a sidewalk or other public area will breed "economic mutual support"(164), but doesn't specify how. I guess I will have to ask T., who wrote an article in the Boom Jackson magazine about converting an old broken-down factory into a mixed-use building (i.e., like an urban version of a mini-mall, putting the suburban version, strip malls, to shame). I guess it feeds economics because peoples' pathways are easily distracted. That is, I meant to just grab lunch with my friend Gladys, but the bookstore across the plaza had a book display that brought me in, which was perfect for a gift I had to buy anyway. Bada-bing, bada-boom. That mixed-use building doubled their profits on me.

Chapter 9

In this chapter, about the need for small blocks, Jane uses picture diagrams for the first time. Up till now, she has been relying on words to describe spatial things. She offers a way to create diversity in public spaces other than primary use buildings: create center use areas by bisecting long city-blocks with extra streets. This gives city walkers alternate routes to choose from, instead of the same monotonous, self-isolating, long streets that only pool at the end where there is a central point of use (i.e., a subway station). Jane cites the Rockefeller Plaza's extra north-south street as a perfect example of this (how cool that would have been to reference in my St. Patrick's Cathedral section of my undergrad thesis!).
Diversity grows flexibly, and so perhaps for this very reason, short city blocks must be simply committed to in faith in the city planning stage; they may seem wasteful, especially to the orthodox planner, but their payoff is the end of safety and vitality that is achieved wherever diversity is nurtured.
How surprising it is to me, with my own small background in urban studies, that open space is actually pathogenic to city life. Central Park, I suppose, is an exception. I'd be interested to hear Jane's view on why it is successful.
Reading about city blocks, superblocks, sidewalk use...it all makes me incredibly nostalgic for New York. My time there is no vague, watercolor-washed memory, but is rather as crisp as the apple cider and donuts that farmers brought into the city ever Sunday and Thursday. Ah! New York! If only I had enjoyed and appreciated you more while I had you. I think I did enjoy you to the max, but I also think two years was too brief. I wonder, wonder how Atlanta will stack up, or contrast. Now I have a language and a logic to employ as I actively indwell it.

Chapter 10

Ah! the chapter that gives aged buildings the glory they deserve! I am partial to older city buildings because my church and my physics and foreign language (heck, all my) classes were in old, old buildings. Unlike the way buildings age in smaller towns, city aging has a very magnetic quality to it. Maybe it's just that mildew isn't such a foe in NYC as it is here in Jackson. Mildew will quickly remove any magnetic quality!

Perhaps to prevent compromising Jane's once-again brilliant thinking, I will stick with one excerpt that says it all:

"Newness, and its superficial gloss of well-being, is a very perishable commodity" (193) <---speaks to the fact that building tons of commercial stores at once is a recipe for misuse and disuse of area. Business owners who rent cannot keep up with high renting costs of new buildings. The city-making recipe of newness cuts out those often-ordinary enterprises that cannot make it there, economically (such as "unformalized feeders of the arts - studios, galleries," music supply stores, book stores). Think about it: "large swatches" of new construction lack DIVERSITY. They are inefficient. That being said, new buildings are also needed to avoid stagnation of use and users. What Jane cautions against is the conversion of large swatches of land and buildings. Variety needs to be left intact, for the mingling of old and new, she argues, is the incubator of diversity, new primary use buildings, and truly new city life- not in the form of cheap big-box plastered walls, but in the form of "ingenious adaptations" as store-owners adjust the old uses of old buildings to new ones.

Chapter 11

I just realized the ironic lack of diversity in my writing here. I am, with my writing and summaries, doing the very thing Jane hates: routinizing. Using large swatches of predictable text, or rather, forcing you, my reader (are you out there?) down long, monotonous city-streets with no alternate routes. Maybe I can use this project of mine (reading then writing a response, so I read better and remember this book more) as an opportunity to do what I need to do as a writer: write more concisely. Conciseness can persuade, spark, educate and attract a reader far better than deep detail can. It's a quality of writing I most want to master. After all, some sociologists (such as Georg Simmel) made it into the history books simply because of their ability to publish short volumes on social phenomena. That attracted a far larger audience!

I will give myself a 100-word limit:

Jane argues that the presupposed "correlations between high densities [of people] and trouble ... is simply incorrect," but that dense city populations are rather an asset. To offset the standardization that occurs if a population is too dense or overcrowded, the solution is to cover as much ground as possible with residences. Jane tampers remedy this with a reminder of the previous three diversity-generators: widespread dwellings must also be mixed in with non-residential buildings (mixed use around a primary building), and short streets are needed to avoid endless rows of housing.

With all this in mind, the reader wonders as to how suburbs, with their un-dense, un-overcrowded, far-from hitting the "in-between density" spot, flourish. I've understood for the first time how monotony in stores (building use) can generate a population equally monotonous. Jane is making me all the more skeptical of the suburbs as a healthy living arrangement or option.

That was more than 100 words, and it was an explication (reader's interpretation of text). Maybe next time I will try to use the 4-sentence precis (author-centered summary) formula. That's sure to stretch me lingually!

Diversity: Natural after all?

Chapter 7: the generators of diversity


I am not sure I'm quickly sold on Jane's intro: "Diversity is natural to big cities" (143). Only six pages later she points out how the Bronx itself is the perfect example that just because a population is large and urban, doesn't guarantee its diversity; rather, this borough of NYC proves to be much more homogeneous in its loyal residents, resulting in a lack of economic choice and "urban vitality" (one of Jane's several vague phrases that she gets away with just cause she's so cool--maybe that's the difference between academic and theoretical sociology...not that the latter is any less academic, but the prose is so relaxed it just seems too fun to be legitimately academic). I'd like to add that diversity seems like the very last thing to be natural. I remember how the college I attended my freshman year, DU, tried (unsuccessfully) to "enforce" diversity by holding fishbowl discussions, where the facilitators aimed at raising consciousness about race and getting more voices flowing on the topic. Well, let's just say that that goal was a programmatic impossibility with a campus that seemed to have about 95% white students. So in that case, diversity was fought for and yearned for, but alas, couldn't be magically evoked.

I think Jane's point in this short chapter is to argue that diversity and choice in a city setting aren't accidental things, nor do they promote chaos. Rather, diversity must be cultivated, and it will sustain the city's vitality. She supplies for conditions for generating the big D: 1- the outdoors must support people with different schedules and uses. 2-blocks ought to be short as much as possible. 3-building quality and condition must be mingled. 4- people should never occupy one space too densely, for any reason. It turns out diversity won't be easy to come by by her standards, as all four must be present and work in combination to bring out a city's potentialities.

Neighborhoods: Sentimentality or Necessity?

Today I dive into chapter 6.

I agree with Jane, “neighborhood” has picked up a saccharine connotation. It is a sentimental thing. I remember one of my Columbia professors saying (in just the right trendy cynical tone), “Community is dead. Community is a myth.” In my mind, community and neighborhood are nearly interchangeable terms.

One thing really struck me while reading Jane’s insights on what makes neighborhoods succeed or fail: how very similar neighborhoods operate to human male-female relationships. Before you dismiss me as crazy, consider these excerpts: “A successful city neighborhood is a place that keeps sufficiently abreast of its problems so it is not destroyed by them. An unsuccessful neighborhood is a place that is overwhelmed by its defects and problems and is progressively more helpless before them.” “Cities, like anything else, succeed only by making the most of their assets.” “In bad neighborhoods, schools are brought to ruination, physically and socially; while successful neighborhoods improve their schools by fighting for them.”

Now, of course, that last phrase – by fighting for them – reminds me immediately of T. asking me in all seriousness back when we first started dating, “Have you ever fought for someone?” He surmised that I never had. Perhaps he is right. So, like someone who really loves someone else, a good neighborhood fights for its stability and perseverance. This again speaks to the reality and applicability of our good chemistry concept, entropy, to urban studies.

Let me carry the analogy further. Jane states that a city neighborhood cannot prosper if it is inwardly-turned, aims for a town-like coziness, or wants to be in any way self-contained. No – only a neighborhood with mobility and fluidity of use – only a relationship with the openness and freedom created by trust – can make it in a city.

Jane goes on to make a three-legged typology of useful city neighborhood types, varying in size. She emphasizes that city streets need to be in a network with larger city districts (“hop-and-skip” people accomplish this, for they know unlikely people, and thus act as gluing agents to tie neighborhoods into networks). Also Jane emphasizes that district neighborhoods are a necessity, as they stream resources and empowerment to the small city-street neighborhood. Obviously, for Jane, “neighborhood” can take both abstract and literal forms. I can jive with this kind of thinking! Typologies are a clear way to break down huge concepts, when writing and explaining a social phenomenon (what could be more cumbersome?).

Jane Jacobs on City Parks

OK, here's the goal: one chapter from urban sociologist/anthropologist Jane Jacob's "The Death and Life of Great American Cities" per day, for the next...17 days. Today I read chapter 5, "The Uses of Neighborhood Parks." I said it in an earlier post, but I will say it here again: what amazes me about Jacobs is that she can talk about sidewalks for about 50 pages, and still not exhaust the topic, or bore the reader to death. Now that, my friends, is a sign of genius. She has to be one of the best observers I've ever known. ("Known" used in a very presumptuous way; obviously I never met or "knew" this woman, who died at 90 years of age 5 years ago.)

So here's what Jacobs (can I call her Jane, since this isn't a term paper?) made me think about, with regard to city parks:

1. She's right. City parks usually become nothing more than dispirited vacuums, rather than anchors of social stability. The assumption among city planners is that parks will embue a neighborhood with positive effects, when rather, they actually more often than not become both producers of and hosts of negative urban effects (i.e., housing hoards of indigent men and perverts who just catcall all day long--this I remember distinctly happening during me and T's trip to downtown Denver's park this past March). This is a reminder of a lesson learned in chemistry in 11th grade, which applies here: the concept of entropy. Things tend towards disorder and chaos, unless massive amounts of energy are invested to push against disorder and decay. In the same way, for a park to become an economic asset or have "staying power" over the decades in a city block, requires lots of work on the city dwellers' part. Well, actually, the city planners need to be more careful, too: if the location of the park doesn't have a natural diversity of users and their schedules (that is, if the park isn't surrounded my mixed-used buildings), it is bound for disaster.

2. Hmm. Jane noticed that a tenament stoop invited more diverse, lively and safe company than a nearby park did. She noted that the people all convened there, by choice, being of all ages and balanced in gender, not due to any amenity a park would offer (i.e., open space, playground), but because they all found it to be an agreeable place to share leisure, and enjoy each other and the passing city (p. 94). What is the magic thing that makes some certain place an agreed-upon hang out place? Convenience and high traffic on everday errand paths? That is, requiring no extra effort to go there?

3. Jane notes that some parks, no sane mother would send her children into. This reminds me of the park where mom would frequently send me to ride my bike when I was 8 or 9, across the street from her apartment in a decidedly urban area in metro Denver. What was it about that park that made it OK in a mother's eyes? There were hints of vandalism, and a bit more open space than was probably helpful there (I remember Andrew commenting on bums spending the night there), but also, I do think it got a fair amount of use and play. I also wonder how that park is doing nowadays; did it prove to have staying power? Also, thanks, mom, for letting me go there and explore on my own. That I count as a very fond childhod memory.

4. I love how Jane mixes urban studies with thinking on class. She notes that blue-collar mothers occupy parks with their kids earlier in the afternoon than white-collar mothers, b/c blue collar husbands get home earlier for supper and this the wives have to go and get cracking on the cooking. She also postulates that the class of neighborhood or class of park frequenters doesn't matter for the success of the park; rich and poor alike like their parks (and perhaps for the same reasons). I want to think things through and piece puzzle pieces together to the same degree as Jane does!

5. Why do city parks have closing times posted?

6. This is for you, Thomas and Cathy: "Superficial architectural variety may look like diversity, but only a genuine content of economic and social diversity, resulting in people with different schedules, has meaning to the park and the power to confer the boon of life upon it" (p. 101). Does that make your craft seem powerless, being entirely dependent on its surroundings? Or, from a more optimistic approach, is the task of architecture to harness the powers of the city toward good?

7. Jane names 4 elements of design that abet generalized patronage/usage by city dwellers: intricacy, centering, sun and enclosure. Basically, the first allows for users to never get tired of a complex layout; the second allows for creative uses of a central public space (oh! this was SO the case in NYC's Riverside Park, which hosted a long free concert series every summer on its largest pier...78th street? I totally can't remember). The 3rd and 4th elements are obvious. People and plants like sun; people also like and thrive within felt boundaries (ever hear about that study someone did that found that kids set on a playground with a fence around it utilized a lot more ground than kids set on a playground with no fence around it?).

8. Shout-out to my dog, Columbia. She got mentioned in this chapter as a university that put two-and-two together and used its drama department to put on musical shows and plays in the long-shunned, crime-, bum-, forty-bottle- and streaker-ridden Morningside Park. These activities became "demand goods," and caused the park (which is like a no-man's land separating prestine Upper-West Side from more colorfuul Harlem below) to evolve into a peace-maker between university and neighborhood, rather than as hostile "Turf." I wonder if Yale has fared so well in its New Haven surroundings?

Cosmic Poise

I stole this phrase from Tim Keller. I don't usually listen to him, but lately I have because he speaks generously on the topic of singleness vs. marriage, which is something I enjoy thinking about. He brings up very fresh points and insights on scriptures that I'd never thought of or considered before. He's a great practical preacher of the Word - my favorite kind. Keller used the phrase "cosmic poise" to refer to that quality of unshakability God gives us, when we realize we can have courage and not be afraid under any circumstance our lives bring us. As I begin a new phase of life on new ground, literally new ground in a new city with a new vocation, may my spiritual footings and attitudinal posture remain in Christ. He's my one steady, the one constant in my life who sustains me. Really, pressing into Him will be the answer for any transition I undergo until the day I part with this life.

I think it's curious how I both simultaneously cling to things of this world - the physical blessings of this present earthly life -- and also long to be departed from its worries and seemingly endless burdens, disappointments, fears, etc. It's like CS Lewis said: if I find in myself a longing which nothing here can satisfy, all I can conclude is that this place (earth) is not my home.

So far in my life, I've negotiated as a nomad. I definitely get by on the generosities of others. It's a painful thing to realize, that I'm no self-made woman. I knew that before, but I don't think I ever dared to understand the depth of that truth, previously. When it comes to spending money, I'm ridiculously cheap. Good thing I can still have poise in Christ, after coming face-to-face with some of my ugliest traits. He gives me the ability to correct bad postures, after making me aware of them.

Body Dragging

Throughout the school year last year, I would almost always fall asleep to a movie -- within the first 5 minutes -- while T. and I were winding down for the day. Looking back, I like how I was constantly exhausted from work and school. Especially on Fridays, there was no forcing my body into activity. That was my melt-down, take-it-easy-at-last day.

Now that it's summer, and I am working but nothing like teaching and going to class on a relentless weekly routine, you'd think the exhaustion would be less. And it certainly is. However, these past two days, my body has been in a definite lull. Yesterday, I couldn't get up as early as I wanted. I forced myself to exercise at midday, and paid for it with a lethargic bodily response from 1:30-3:30. Ugh, that was annoying to go through; while I wanted to be working, my body was so apathetic it drowned my hopes for productivity. Today, I was in no mood for spin class, but did it nonetheless, although I wasn't pushing myself super-hard. I figure, some exercise is better than none at all. Also, I am a routine person. Better not to break routines than to suffer the consequences of feeling lazy afterwards.

The purpose of this post is not to blabber on and on, but to try to make two points: (1) sometimes I would probably be better served by not exercising/running on a given day, especially when it breaks my flow of concentration and work, as it did yesterday. This is a form of discipline of mind. (2) I wonder what is up with my body, when I am in a lull like that. I am not particularly sleep deprived, compared to any other time. Hmmm.

Quality Media

I really love when you are spending the day with someone really close to you, and you or the other person learns something new about the other. This happened last weekend on Friday night when T and I had dinner with an older couple. I mentioned that I first felt very strongly towards Jesus in 8th grade when I saw the Jesus Christ Superstar crucifixion scene, and T. said, "Really? I didn't know that." And it hit me, one, God has been intertwining amazing little events like this one to turn my to knowing and trusting and loving Him for a very long time now. Two, it feels very good to have someone interested in your life and to know about your life on a deep level. Three, human beings are unfathomable, the memories and reasons and recollections they contain. Each day is a new opportunity for the sharing and learning. Four, when you share about yourself with others, you learn about yourself, too. Five, thank you Linda for exposing me to this movie. This is some seriously quality media, here. Makes me want to time travel, or at least watch/listen to it again. Which leads me to six, sure is nice that we can repeat doing the things we love.

Happy Reading

I've currently got my nose in three books: Angelou's "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," a contemporary fiction book, "Shelter Me," and still Jane Jacob's "The Death and Life of Great American Cities."

About the first, I will say that I ALWAYS love an autobiography about growing up black in the South, since I have no expertise whatsoever on the topic. I am reading this book in order to teach a reading workshop for the public high schoolers' mandatory summer reading. Summer reading is a nice thought on the schools' part, but I've got to say, the infrastructure for such a program just simply is not in place. There are 30,000 readers, k-12, across Jackson, and the schools do not provide books. Public libraries have about 65 copies per grade level, with extremely strict check out and due date parameters. You do the math. Anyways, "Caged Bird" is especially great because Angelou has that special ability to both critique and see through ugly truths about the adult worl (well, she did write this as an adult, I guess, looking back), while simultaneously maintaining a rather merciful, loving stance towards family and others who have hurt her. That is, she doesn't tip into the outward territories of naiveté or bitterness. This book is a lot like Janneatee Wall's "Glass Castle" or Anne Moody's "Coming of Age in Mississippi."

"Shelter Me" is a book I can read without thinking too hard. It's about a young mother whose husband died in a bike accident. She's left with two kids. The author does an excellent job tracking the mourning process in a step-by-step, day-by-day way. Also a main point of the book is how surprising it is to find out who helps you most in your worst times-- not always the people you'd expect to be there for you the most.

Jane Jacob's book continues to be an inspiration to me. I don't know how she can talk about sidewalks for 100 pages and keep my interest, but she does! T. is an architect, so I love to torture him by reading aloud long excerpts of her observations on what urban planning ought to be, but isn't. 

WUWT: What's Up With That?

One of my best friends is a star teacher at a public school in a critical needs district. The principal of this teacher's school is blocking the teacher from doing things the teacher has requested, all for benefit of the students. The principal keeps finding other people to fill these roles. What's up with a leader blocking a competent, passionate worker's way to blossoming as a teacher? This is really sad to me. Broken Systems, here's what you look like.

Clean coffee mugs and high heels

Today I got up later than I would have hoped I would, but the day is not a wash because of it. God's still giving me motivation to make much of this day.

As I was preparing coffee to bring to work, I opened up an old travel mug, which I've been using relentlessly these past three years, day in and day out. A gross slime accompanied the opening. Sick. I washed it out and intended to use another mug. Then, with the warm water in it full, I changed my mind. I grabbed the grapefruit-colored Dawn detergent, squeezed in a good amount, and brushed the mug hard. The cap too.

As I walked up the hill to work, I was relieved to see how clean the mug had gotten. The lid was literally shining, with bristle marks from the scrubber there to insure its completely clean state. I'd gotten the gunk out of the sliding cap too. From this simple thing, I thought, with a newfound sense of relief, that's how Jesus approaches us in our sin, too. He decides to scrub us clean, to the point where there is visible evidence of our newly clean state. To me this said, don't give up. And also, you're always covered in His blood. He will ever make you clean. After years and years of use as His vessel, He will always make me clean again, ready for His use. How reassuring!

Now, heels. Yesterday I wore these swanky brown leather heels with my old brown Talbots dress. The heels made the outfit, for sure. They made me look far more mature than I have in recent years. Anyways, T. has been explaining to me how one can observe a woman wearing heels and be able to tell, "oh, those heels are walking her" or "Yes, she's walking those heels." In other words, does the wearer of the shoes have control over herself in them? If she does, she looks forward with ease and balance, not examining or looking down at her footwear and stride. I thought to myself entering church, this is so like our Christian walk. The effortlessness means we are trusting Jesus with it; the endless examination and criticism of self while trying to walk with Him is evidence of putting too much emphasis on self and "stacking up" to His way. While it's essential to feel the need to walk in a way acceptable to our Heavenly Father, hope will not be found in the self-focused walk. Rather, hope is found when we are almost floating on His promises. Oh, help me believe your promises, God! Help me walk this faith with a supernatural balance that comes from You.

Fear

Looking back upon my baby Christian years, I think it is a curious thing indeed that my first ever memory verse that I recall was Joshua 1:9: "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." How more relevant of a verse could the Bible contain for me at a time like this, when I am about to move and feel very afraid, when I am doubting my secure place in His arms?

Another passage to encourage those in fear is in Levitcus 26. I admit, I know nothing about context, so I will not make too much commentary on it. I will just enjoy the promises.

Leviticus 26

Reward for Obedience

 ¹ “‘Do not make idols or set up an image or a sacred stone for yourselves, and do not place a carved stone in your land to bow down before it. I am the LORD your God. ² “‘Observe my Sabbaths and have reverence for my sanctuary. I am the LORD.
 ³ “‘If you follow my decrees and are careful to obey my commands, ⁴ I will send you rain in its season, and the ground will yield its crops and the trees their fruit. ⁵ Your threshing will continue until grape harvest and the grape harvest will continue until planting, and you will eat all the food you want and live in safety in your land.
 ⁶ “‘I will grant peace in the land, and you will lie down and no one will make you afraid. I will remove wild beasts from the land...

Ahhh, to live in safety in the land! To lie down unafraid, and to feel peace! God knows we long for these things, and need them, and He therefore is happy to grant them, when we trust His way. I count the peace  these Scriptures give me my blessing for today. 

I love my home

Today I am strongly reminded of why I love Jackson, MS, why I find this place so strongly to be my home. As I sit in bed and read, a new wind of delight and absolute positive anticipation of my imminent return to school that is in my near future has blown through my mind. It's such a refreshing change of emotion! I think reading something that reminds me of the subject I love so much, sociology, gets me back in that secure place in my mind, which seeps over into my heart and soul, too.

I was dreading summer break for a long time, for I knew its capacity for idle time would send my nerves reeling in fear of my pending change of address, vocation, and company. Indeed, many times this June, it did just that. My mind has an amazing ability to, as T. puts it, "flip to the back of the Rolodex, select the 'Worst Case Scenario' card, and place it on the front of the roll," then proceed to obsess about it. Well, on this sunny Sunday, as I sit at home and enjoy Jane Jacobs' overly passionate diatribe on sidewalks and the vitality and safety the good ones lend to thriving city centers, I am conquering this fear. And it's not my victory that I brought to myself by some exciting psychological trick that overcame my crazed fears. No, it is the Lord who is giving me today the gift of peace about -- and even of excitement for -- the future.

I am looking forward to getting in the zone again, when I wade deep in reading and thinking and writing papers. I am so thankful that God has given this "refuge" for me. I say refuge because it is a place where I feel extreme joy and delight in this life. I am really happy there. It's very helpful to be strongly cognizant of that in this particular junture in my life, where I am on the brink of transition. Without memory of who I am, the ways God has blessed me in the past, and the passions He has instilled in me to the point of them becoming my nature and instinct and compass of self-direction (how true it is that He gives me a sense of direction, too, in big things -- this is an entirely different and equally enormous thing to be grateful for, another gift straight from His hand), I would feel only that I am being torn from home.

I comfort myself (those three words in order sound pathetic, don't they?) by putting myself in the position of a high school graduate in her intervening summer between home-bound adolescence and adulthood-bound semi-independence, as she awaits freshmen orientation at a college remotely distant from her home. Feelings of anticipation and pre-separation homesickness are stricking her simultaneously, aren't they? The anxiety of how her environment is about to change, and how it will change all that is currently stable and predictable in her life, will trouble her otherwise easy, undemanding (underdemanding?) summer months. But even when she leaves, those who love her there will remain in the same state of love, just as she herself will remain connected in her heart, to her core, to those she loves at home. That was ceratinly true of me and dad when I left for college thousands of miles away. We did not grow apart, at all; I would argue we got closer with distance.

I find it necessary to add here that a lot can impact one's heart and even one's life course in the span of one simple summer. So summers ought not be discounted. Within the limits of this blog entry, summers seem to have no use but to make one wait on the inevitable which will come crashing down as soon as the summer clock expires. So take heart Summer: I do not hate you, nor do I underestimate you. You are a force to be appreciated, for you, apart from other seasons, spur self-examination and bodily care and rest more than the other seasons (as much as I do prefer the other seasons of the year! Why is it that I feel more contented in a daily lifestyle that leaves me feeling exhausted and wrung-out as a shower cloth? Maybe I like the sensation of feeling used-up, as if I am putting myself to maximum use and am filled to the brim. But kid not yourself, Self: you know you worry during the off-off-season [that is, months other than summer] just as much. You can just bury it easier becuase you get quickly re-occupied....which I would argue is aother one of God's gifts: when you're busy using your gifts in daily life, through your job, serving others, then you can stop dwelling inside yourself and on yourself so much. Yuck. I think that's an undesireable state, like a place you don't want to be, such as a low-scale, one-star hotel that smells like "sweaty chocolate.").

All this being said, I am happy God brings relief to mind. This relief is especially sweet when you aren't even expecting it, through methods or activities or stimuli you wouldn't expect.He gives psychological rest for the overworked analyzer. People like us work psychological overtime by choice, with no extra wages (sick, huh?). Today, I think less of what the future could hold, and how it will come to be, and more of how my future, yet again, has been put in place for me to step on towards. There aren't any rocky grounds here; my path is well-defined. And honestly, I do know I will enjoy what I am about to devote myself to do: intense study and research for 4 years.

I think today I just tasted some of what the prodigal son tasted when he came home to his merciful father: I am "coming" to myself, and am finding a greater degree of gratitude and rest there.

The Marginalized

This past week I have been awed at the side of Jesus that addresses and corrects the pathogenic social forms that marginalize certain groups. First, a friend visiting from out of state got me thinking about how the church today is marginalizing artists. Not all churches, of course, but she mentioned how churches that operate by the business world's rationale of efficiency are more eager for artists to serve in a prescribed "useful" way, and treat their original work as too selfish, or need it to tell an explicit story about salvation for it to have a place in the church.

Then today I read the last part of Luke, where women, who were up until Jesus' time not invited into Bible studies or ministry, were the first to find out about Jesus' ascension. He chose them to carry the news of the unbelievable to the masses! It fell fresh on me how Scripture always highlights our core essence as human beings. I love Scripture because it is what God is telling us and reminding us and it illustrates who He is. Of course, I am glad there is a book that tells us good ideas about how to live. Following His commands in it will make our lives better and richer, because his way helps us as limited, finite physical beings to transcend brokenness by His power. But more than usual, this week, I appreciate Scripture because it addresses social malformations. jesus is interested in empowering the marginalized, giving them a role and purpose, where they don't feel like the church is doing them a favor by allowing them a voice or by allowing them to serve in their own special way, the particular way God created them to before they even had a heartbeat.

Waking Up Late

Today I woke up at 8:24. That means that I was supposed to be at work in 36 minutes. Well, that wasn't going to happen. I would rather have the balance instilled into my entire day by keeping my morning routine (semi-) intact and be late to work (thank goodness I have a job where I can do that- self-made hours) than to be on-time to work and have not gotten exercise out of the way. Because if I leave it to later in the day, I can be pretty certain it will not happen.

Summertime is interesting. I have the freedom to sleep whatever hours I want, really; but at the same time, I prefer to keep a rigid, structured day like I do during the academic year. Sleeping in makes me feel bad, unless I planned on doing it. The loss of a quiet, cool morning where the sun is not on full-blast yet is not something I'd like to part with in these free summer months. What can outdo that? A quiet start to your day is bliss. And I'd like to add, when work is forcing that morning time to be cut off, the morning is far sweeter. Things seem to be sweeter in their limited state, than in abundance. Too much of anything, anything without limits, loses its spice. Keeping a lid on the delights of life keeps them delightful.

So, this entry is really about the joy that streams forth from discipline. I used to cringe at the thought of a disciplined guy I knew in college. His life was so perfectly calculated, down to the management of each moment, that I easily grew jealous. I tried to stamp discipline as a killjoy to extinguish my jealousy. But really, I cannot deny that it is when I have self-discipline that I am at my fullness of joy. As writers call to their muse to do their work, I call to Discipline to live. What a gift is the Alarm Clock, when applied to more than just one's sleep schedule. An inbuilt mechanism and purpose in the discipline that is strong enough to control my body and mind and stream their powers and actions and desires down good streams. What joy!

Unbridled Tongue

Maya Angelou tells in her autobiography, "I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings," how her grandmother, who raised her between the ages of 7-13 (approximately), started each morning praying bedside, "Thank you, LORD, for this new day, and help me not injure anyone in my household with my tongue." (paraphrase)

This morning I am reminded of the power of speech. I am reminded freshly the truth to the Word's instructions on living the best life possible; God knows how we're created and our capacity to harm, even with the seemingly tiniest part of our bodies. To guard my speech, so that the things that I say don't hinder people, hurt people, especially in a sneaky fashion (seemingly benign, but really a jab), this is my new thing that I lay at Jesus' feet for His repair.

Don't you hate it when you say something that, no more than a minute later, you know will have consequences? Indeed, out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. If we're fearful, if we're wanting to get even for feeling lesser the moment before, we'll often recruit our tongue to do the right-making. Except, our tongue seldom does that. How much more restorative would silence have been? I wish I could have held my tongue, instead of starting a little fire. Even if the person who hears the ungracious words forgives me, what battle have I now brought myself into, to hate my very own words and actions and rue them? Indeed, part of the regret after the mouth-spill is the reality that one has to deal with one's own sinful reflection. That is, the mouth shows us a heart we would rather not see. That's why we try to hide it away, to not acknowledge our heart's sorrows and fears and insecurities. In a small way, I am thankful God gave us our mouths, even in their unwieldy way, because it exposes us for who we are: dependents on His grace and mercy. And what a miracle and gift it is indeed when our own fellow men can forgive our words with the same grace and mercy.

"Every Dog Has its Day"

Alright, so I pride myself on hating cliches. I even invent odd, odd ways of explaining the everyday (for example, "recreational talking" is a famed phrase of mine), to avoid the dreaded Cliche. But this one....well, this particular one is alright by me. I will let it slide every time.

Reason being, "every dog has its day" marks a special moment in my life. My favorite cousin-in-law, C., sent me a trendy Kate Spade leather-bound mini purse notebook, cool blue with gold-inscribed tiny font on the front with this phrase. She explained in her note to me, "this made me think of you, not because you're a dog, but because you will have your day, a day of success and a day when all will pay off for you." Something to that effect (wish I still had the original card. maybe it's stored in my box of received mail, the Corona box on the floor of my tiny closet getting in the way of everything.). Those simple words, so few, so concise, so parsimonious, sent hope flowing through my veins as if it were just shot in intravenously.

A phone call to my friend M. yesterday, a former grad school classmate, brought this phrase back up. I wish I remember the context she used it in. All I could do was burst out, "I love that saying." Oh, I still do, eight years later.

Now, where's my blue purse book? It's calling for me to fill it with more parsimonious pontifications.

Field Trips

I just read something by Beth Moore this morning that got me thinking. She talked about how when Jesus washed the disciples' feet, it was not the first time He had taught that lesson to the disciples. The lesson was: greatness is found in humility. Service is leadership. I am your example of how to live your life like this. In other words, Jesus had already instructed, talked, and illustrated with words. There came a time, He realized, when the lesson had reached its maximum potential and it was necessary to go on a field trip. To learn through experience, demonstration, to illustrate not with words, but with physically doing.

I agree with Moore, that Jesus sometimes taught using field trips. How can I not take this to heart as a teacher and as a follower of Jesus? When I look back on my teaching methods these past three years, I can only recount a few times where my students learned through a filed-trip-esque approach (on my part). Did we ever venture outdoors? No. Even another part of the school? No. The best I can come up with is the time I had them do a frontloading activity (teacher jargon for something that will whet their appetite for a book before opening its front cover) which involved them to move by foot to the quadrant of my classroom that said they either agreed or disagreed with controversial/moral statements I was making, which related to the book's character's main struggles.

If only I'd had them play more games! The teacher down the hall did that and I was in perpetual awe of the way she managed to get students' bodies involved in the learning process, which is (I think we can ALL agree) overly cerebral. Even incoming med students love activities, such as a quasi-anthropological game called "Bafa Bafa," according to a woman I work for who also works at UMC. After all, life is not all mental, not even close. Although I never did get my students playing instructionally-adjusted games like Memory, Bingo, or something that required individual creation time, I suppose these little leaflet flipchart things we made, as well as the index card vocabulary project and stapleless mini-books, gave them a little outlet for that. But as far as an impressive illustration of a concept by doing, as Jesus did with the feet washing? I give you props for that Jesus -- I don't know how to cross into that Territory of the Deep. I want to, though.

And I have a jubilant and sneaking suspicion that maybe teaching this way actually isn't so hard. Maybe it's easier to do than contriving an elaborate, tiresome written lesson. (BTW, did you know that some rookie teachers start off my writing scripts for themselves to perform each and every class period?! Wow! I saw that in MTC. Those lucky students...who wouldn't benefit from such careful preparation. That's a true gift, and a job fully done. Others of you may be thinking, ugh, that's too much. I retort with, better too much than too little!)

Alright, now to shift the the religious side of the field trip analogy. I want to enter into a new phase of learning from the Messiah how to be His follower. Less instruction and mental agreement with Him; more doing, acting out the Word. That means to be His hands and feet (Thank you Audio Adrenaline, bastion of the Suburban-American-Christian teen's radio in the early oughts.). That means....

• comforting those in grief (visit the mourning, lonely, imprisoned, sick)
• aiding those in distress (providing housing, food, materials, resources [beyond physical, too- our time, labor, social capital, etc.] where they've been depleted or are depressed)
• giving lavishly when the opportunity presents itself (giving others and the church our money, time, assets, labor)
• giving routinely, when we think there's no opportunity/ability for us to do so
• giving joyfully, out of the abundance He's given us
• returning good for ill to our enemies (not cursing, hindering, or punishing them, but showing grace and offering peace however best we can. This involves guarding our tongue and not allowing anger to control us, and praying for our enemies' healing.)
• resisting sin, both in our relationships with others and in social systems (speaking against it, avoiding tempting situations, confessing [rather than hiding or rationalizing or comparing or minimizing or denying] my own sin, rebuking and not following worldly patterns)
• strengthening our brothers (in regular fellowship, sharing our trials and how God's helped us through each.)
• sharing God's love, the story of redemption He has written for His children by the life of His Son, the Gospel, with a confidence and urgency that reflects the depth of our belief that this News really is Good.

Let's review all the verbs I just wrote: comforting, visiting, aiding, giving, guarding, praying, resisting, speaking, avoiding, rebuking, strengthening, sharing. Not only accepting and meditating on Jesus. This is part of the body of the Gospel: to learn by doing.

I need an action plan. Take me on a field trip, Jesus; this classroom of the daily life of comfort I choose is growing stuffy...

All Flap, no throttle.

That's the motto for airlines back in the 1970's, according to one of my surrogate parents, a former stewardess. Beautifully said, no? I love fresh spins on shabby ole hackneyed phrases. I guess the modern-day translation of the motto would be, "All talk, no action."

Mind you, I should be researching right now, but I thought it important to say that "throttling" in life isn't such an impossible undertaking. Seemingly dull things can become exciting as quick as a mischievous student stashes away an illicit cell phone (painted-on innocent-eyes and all). I experienced it again today in my research.

The moral of this post is really as a reminder to myself that when things seem to be all flap, keep flapping, and the throttle will come. I am confident that is not what the author of the phrase originally intended, but I have hijacked the phrase and will apply it liberally to my own ends. Now that right there is a tone of throttle-turned-adjective.

Choices

Two months ago, I had a choice to make between two options: Emory or Vanderbilt? I made out lists of pro's and con's. I swung from one pole to the other. I also led friends to believe I had sided one way, then did a 180 by the next time I talked to them.

As a concise recap - because neither you nor I are much interested in being drug through details here (relive the crowded thoughts? No way!) - Vanderbilt had money, prestige, and one particularly great faculty member to boast. Downsides: they held all their classes in one room; their graduates' placements weren't stellar; one Vandy drop-out told me she never felt connected there; I felt like if I went there it'd be for the wrong reasons. Emory's pro's: I am enamored with Atlanta. Not sure why. It seems to hold the same city mystique that drew me to Columbia. Emory was far more responsive to me in the beginning stages of applying. I started picturing myself as a scholar there. By the time Vanderbilt became a possible reality, my Emory baby was past the zygote stage. Hard to kill a life that's already gestated. Emory also seems to hold a little more clout among soc circles. Also their faculty are uber friendly and I have the one I want to emulate already pegged (hopefully she's not reading this blog!). So Emory's cons kind of never took form for me.

Two months after turning in my official decisions to both schools, I have repeatedly felt peace with my decision to go to Emory. I get excited when I'm on the phone discussing my master's thesis with my hope-to-be advisor. She gives real guidance! Woo hoo! I get excited by the virtual book club emails one faculty has set up with three of us (the other two students not in my cohort). I get excited, excited, excited..........

I'm thankful that choices come to a decision-point, and that God makes it so you can happily live with your choice. What would it be like if choices just hung around like flies at a picnic (hated guests), never coming to a crux? Or, what if decisions could kill you with regret afterwards? But thanks be to God, who keeps life in flux, who keeps time rolling, and who enables us to live with our decision, past regrets and worries. He's got us.