Tensions

I think tension is a great word. It conveys both separation and connection. For example, I love the poetry of Leonard Cohen because of the tension between the sacred and profane.

In my own work, I am playing with tensions as well. For me, the tensions are less substantive and more stylistic. I prefer to write my academic articles with distinctive and deliberate flippancy. I do this to battle my own internal tensions. I, like many academics (or almost academics), tend towards arrogance and pompous elitism. But, I realize most of this attitude is a reflection of the minor importance of most of our work. In a world where they work hard to have such limited impact, academics imagine they are doing work of singular importance. And I want to remind myself, and others, that what they write isn't that serious. Plus, from a basic philosophical perspective I think that focusing on the impact of work, rather than the substance of work, will inevitably decrease its value.

So, how do I remain true to my voice and be taken seriously in the overly-stuffy world of academia? Should I follow the road taken by scholars like Gregory Bateson who never sought internment in the ivory tower? Or is that more self-delusion to compare myself to an intellect such as his? (I realize most people have no idea who Bateson is, but he was an incredible thinker and communicator).

As I said, tension is a great word even if tensions are hard to live with. Maybe I need to embrace them like I do the concept and stop treating them like a riddle.

Bulawayo

My lost, wandering discord
is replaced by the futility
of academic minutiae.
Our flaccid visions enlighten no creation,
only the inevitable causes.
Its undeniable outcome is all
self-abuse and populist rhetoric.
Mugabe treats me well, though:
at least the shadow of him I cast
from my own regret.
All is not lost,
on the horizon of colonial influence.
There is still place in the world,
for my people's burden.

The Good and Bad of Good Parents

My father is not cool. Conversations with him are often boring, and involve an extensive discussion of wood cutting. He mumbles--thanks for that-, talks softly and is a well-practiced introvert. Growing up I was jealous of friends with cool parents. I wanted a TV show beautiful Mom and Dad who were fun to be around and drew people with ease. Instead, I got two solid, slightly boring, but absolutely reliable folks. And the older I get, the more I appreciate the gifts they've given me. Except the mumbling, I still struggle with that.

I am going home tomorrow, to my Mom and Dad. My Dad is battling cancer. Although, that verb makes it seem like he can win. My Dad is living out his days with cancer.  He knows this will kill him, but remains more concerned with taking care of his kids than being taken care of.  If he was used to being taken care of, they may have caught the cancer earlier.  Such is the downside of a good parent. They take care of their children until they no longer can. They share their pain and fears with their spouses and peers. They don't burden their kids, even when we have long since learned to deal with life's miseries.

I am going home tomorrow, to a shrinking calendar of next times. Regret is an easy emotion at this time. But, I know I won't regret the time I've spent away. My Mom and Dad never had to rely on words to teach me how to live. Their most important lessons were taught to me as a child. Who I am, and who I still can be, is a product of two people showing me how to treat the world. They never preached equality and understanding but they taught it nonetheless. So, I won't regret the time we didn't share, because I took the core of who they are with me when I left.  In their honour, I will continue being a solid, slightly boring, and reliable man.

My current, and foreseeable, dilemma.

Contingent Social Spaces.
Modes of Belonging.
Zimbabwean Farm Workers.
Farmers.
NGOs / NGO Workers
Communication Systems.
Communication Frames.
Ritual.
Media.
HIV/AIDS.
Xenophobia.
South Africa.

Somewhere in amongst, cutting across, and / or bound by these terms is my dissertation. I spent our fall, and part of winter in northern South Africa doing field work for my PhD. (I'm Canadian). I'm beginning my data analysis and the road ahead is so unknown that it isn't even daunting. It's not a tangible part of my consciousness yet. You might think that years of graduate life would prepare me for this last, long journey, but no. Like so much of graduate work, it is a solitary learning process that can be explained but only understood in situ, in the middle of things. In that way, it's much like the 'real life' I hear so much about.

My real dilemma is how do I accomplish this task and fulfill the criteria of a dissertation without being subsumed by academic hubris. I don't want to fall prey to the easy use of jargon that my colleagues are often unaware of. How do I make an impact in the world of academics without being the kind of self-absorbed, pompous ass that it is full of? Maybe awareness is all I can hold to. That, and the models of balanced and decent people in the academy that I know.

Either that or I will become a Zamboni operator full-time.

Self-indulgence: the Reboot

It's dissertation time in my world. To that end, I've begun cleaning my home obsessively, watching ted.com and looking for personal growth and productivity blogs to help me on my way. In other words, I've been procrastinating. I know, it's shocking to think of a graduate student procrastinating but that's where I am.

With that vague and mundane bit of background, I am committing to the writing process again. I commit to write every day, to edit every day, and to push that dissertation rock up my hill each day. I don't know if this will become a dissertation focused blog or if it will falter quickly--although I have my suspicions about which of these is more likely. But, as I as a line goes that I'm fond of using: Life is a game of remembering and forgetting. So, here's to me remembering to do my work when it isn't fun or very interesting.

I'll post again soon to talk about my dissertation, but for now know I am an anthropology student interested in communication systems and ritualized media in South Africa.

Fingers crossed, again.