Confessions of an Errant Mind

As of next week, I'll no longer be a first year composition instructor. I'll be teaching a course this summer, but it's not technically first year comp and I'll no longer be a part of the Writing Studies Department here. Probably the hardest part of this whole transition has been stepping out of a fairly comfortable niche. I've been in my current career track for almost a decade. I more or less know what I'm doing, and I'm reasonably competent at it. I'm in control of my work and I know what's expected of me.

Starting this fall, that all changes. I'm entering a new field. Rather than concentrating on teaching, the next three years of my life will be primarily about research. While my classes have touched on the themes I'm interested in, they've been introductory and, by necessity, fairly broad. In my next gig, some four or five years from now, I'll be teaching students specific content from a particular discipline. And during this transition, I'm a student--somewhat in control, but also learning what's expected of me and how I fit in a new academic landscape.

To that end, I feel like the caterpillar entering a cocoon. I don't know exactly what I'll look like on the other end of this. But it will be interesting to find out.

Image source

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 02:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Caution: long post ahead!!!

For a variety of reasons, I set this weekend as a deadline for my decision on my grad school future. It was about two years ago that Sarah and I walked through the state fairgrounds and began talking about whether my waiting for her to finish her own degree would really be worth it. Since that time, I’ve been trying to figure out both the best timing and fit for my future schooling.

Here’s what I know right now: I’m broadly interested in urban studies, more specifically gentrification, spaces of consumption, and the everyday ways in which people and groups adopt and contest what is labeled “capitalism” and “urban development.” That will need to be further refined, but it’s a relatively good place for me to start. Food studies is still in there somewhere—certainly urban food consumption sites are one of the primary markers of neighborhood identity. But it’s not the essential piece I once thought it might be.

Given these interests, Geography is the best fit for me here in Minnesota. Since Sarah still has some years to go, we’re not moving anytime soon. So it’s been a matter of finding where here at the U works best. There’s several people looking at urban issues in the Geography department here, far more than any one place elsewhere at the U. It’s also a department with a long history and prestigious reputation.

And so last fall, I applied to Geography as a Ph.D. student. That application was accepted, and I’ve also received a three year fellowship from the U of M graduate school. I won’t have to work as an RA/TA during that time and will be reasonably well compensated—though it’s still a large drop from my current salary. It’s the first time a student in the department has been offered three years, which is an honor. And professors I’ve talked to there have been enthusiastic about my prospects.

Now I decide. There are risks, of course. Choosing grad school means a good deal of financial hardship. We’ll be earning somewhere between $10-20K less than we are currently, and we’re just breaking even right now. We’ve got a second child coming in late May, so our expenses won’t decrease. It will probably take four years before Sarah finishes up—I could conceivably be pretty close to being done then myself. By the end of that time, we could have somewhere between $100-$140K in student loan debt. That’s like a second mortgage to pay off. Assuming both of us get jobs, though, we’ll be earning about twice what we are now. Even if one of us ends up in a lecturer position, we’ll be making decent money. If we make reasonable lifestyle choices, there’s no reason why we couldn’t pay that off in 5-7 years. It’s not something to take likely, but not an issue that I think is decisive. In this case, the debt will be offset by increased earning power. That’s not bad debt. We also have family who support us. We won’t end up on the street (just maybe in somebody’s basement…).

There’s also just the risk of doing grad school at all. I think this is what I’m interested in, but realistically, this is my career choice for the next twenty years or so. That’s a big decision, and not one that feels very comfortable. I’ve never been a dedicated researcher, so I don’t know exactly how I’ll take to that. I also still have doubts about the importance of academic work. It’s not always as practical as I’d like. I had another prospective student ask me just last night how my research would actually help people, and I couldn’t give a direct answer. But I do have some: teaching, influencing policy makers, partnering with neighborhood organizations. As Paul says in Corinthians (more or less), a hand shouldn’t be upset that it’s not a foot. I’m an academic, and I can’t try to be something I’m not.
Still, this is a unique opportunity. The department is going through some transitions in faculty right now, which makes the future there somewhat unpredictable. But I’m sure that I’ll still have several people to work with. There’s no guarantee of that once Sarah’s done and we move on to a different university. I like the students I’ve met in the department, though some of them won’t be around for more than a year or two. If I were to wait, I would be doing school while Sarah works toward tenure, which is a much more stressful stage of life than doing dissertation research. Our schedules are just more flexible now. We’re already comfortable here in Minneapolis and have support systems with both church and Sarah’s family. And I certainly have no guarantee of a three year fellowship if I wait for another option. The flexibility that allows me both to contribute at home and focus on my scholarship is nothing to take lightly. It will probably be easier to have two kids and be in grad school than to continue working. There may never be a better time to do this.

Not doing grad school now also means another three to four years of teaching first year composition. While I like my current job, I’m emotionally ready to move on. There’s only so much that can be done with these classes—people are going a variety of different directions, they’re required to take the class, and they’re relatively new to college. I love freshman, but am ready to work with a broader range of students. I feel competent in my current job, but I’m not passionate about writing. I am about urban studies. When I came to Minnesota, it was to work in General College, whose core mission was providing access to historically excluded student populations. After a memorable protest, GC was closed two years ago. I appreciate the work of my new department, but I feel nowhere near the investment in it that I felt at GC. If other factors made staying in this position seem like the practical choice, I could do that—I have for the past three years. But aside from finances, there’s no real reason to stay right now. And as I’ve said, finances alone don’t really justify staying.

For these reasons, I’ve decided to make the change and become a grad student here in Geography. It’s not an easy decision. I’m not sure exactly what lies ahead, especially when the department is undergoing changes in faculty. But certainty is always elusive in this kind of situation. Faculty leave and arrive all the time. I feel satisfied that I’m making the best decision I can now with the information I have. More than that, I feel called to life in the academy. As Frederick Buechner famously said, vocation is where our joy meets the world’s needs. This is that space for me. Despite my doubts about the utility of academic work or my fears about finances or the department’s future, this is where I have felt most used by God to bless others and the world. It’s who I am. All I can do is have faith in that and walk forward into the darkness. I may not know what I will find there, but like Abraham leaving Ur, I trust that it’s a better land.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 07:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Months of waiting came to a quick closure today. Within the space of a couple of hours, I found out that both external fellowships I applied for (one from the National Science Foundation and the other from the Department of Education) had chosen other, and doubtless better qualified, candidates. Still, I do have a fellowship offer from the U of M Grad School for three years, which isn't bad.

And so now it's time to decide, which is the really hard part. I've had some time to think this over, but going from 90% to 100% certain on a change like this isn't easy. I've been a composition instructor for nine years, and at this point I have a fairly comfortable niche for myself. To leave that behind for being a student again, acquiring a substantial amount of debt, and not knowing what life will look like on the other end of all of it requires some courage and faith. I hope to make the decision this weekend--I'm using a recruiting weekend by the Geography Dept. as a deadline. At this point, I can't see any reason to say no, unless for some reason the financial offer falls through. But I'll have to sit down and burn a candle or something to make it official.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm taking a research methods class this semester and found this graph of polling data for tomorrow interesting.

There's a lot here--you easily see the condition of the race in multiple states, and the shaded dots give you the sense of motion. It's relatively easy to interpret as well. Cool.

Credit: Pollster

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 04:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I received word late Friday that my application to the Ph.D. program in Geography had been accepted. It's good news, though not completely unexpected. This is where the real waiting game begins though. Within the next month or two, I'll hear back on various fellowship applications, and that will probably make or break the decision. It's a question of how much debt is too much, which we'll just have to figure out...

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 10:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Sometime in the next couple of weeks, Sarah and I are going to have to decide on where we want Micah to go to school. I'm happy that it's a choice--Minnesota seems unique in that you can send your kid pretty much anywhere if you're willing to drive them, and there's about 10 options with busing for us. We're pretty settled on our first choice, Loring School (school's web site and state report card here), which isn't very far from us, has busing, and seems decent. It's got drastically higher test scores than most area schools*, even though demographically it shouldn't (high percentage of Free and Reduced Price lunch students, meaning poor). Makes me a little worried about teaching to the test/skills based learning, but we observed the Kindergarten briefly and it didn't seem too bad. It's small, diverse, and also local so he can have some friends near his house. They even have a garden and an after school cooking program. Micah liked that the Kindergarten room had legos--it was his first choice.

The problem is the second choice. On the one hand, there's Bryn Mawr (website and report card). It's south of us and is actually where our church meets, but still has busing. Friends from small group send their kid there, so Micah would have a friend on the bus and daycare after school. Though the demographics are similar to Loring, test scores aren't nearly as good. Our friend liked the kindergarten classroom but hasn't been as impressed with first grade. And they start at 7:30, meaning Micah would have to be at the bus stop before 7 and would be home around 2:30. There's other schools he could go to, but this is really the best of the lot. Some, including one five minutes walk from our house, would mean real social isolation for Micah when comparing kids' demographic backgrounds.

The other option is Marcy Open School (website and report card). It's close to the university, but doesn't have busing. I'd probably drive him or ride the city bus over (about 30-40 minutes) on my way to school. It's still diverse, though almost half white, has a cool arts program (including a rock band) as well as partnerships with downtown organizations. Like Loring, it starts at 8:40. Test scores are similar to Loring. On the other hand, it's further away, meaning Micah wouldn't have friends from the neighborhood. It's a K-8 school, so it's bigger. Micah seemed overwhelmed when we visited. Transportation would be a real hassle.

It's probably a moot choice--I'm fairly sure Micah would get into Loring. But it feels important to me for some reason. I lean toward Marcy at this point, just because I want Micah to have a good experience (and don't want to get him up at 6:15-30 every weekday). But there's some real drawbacks with either option. Tough choices.

*Despite my generally negative feelings about No Child Left Behind as an educator, those scores are a helpful reference for how students are doing as a parent. I don't think they're a great measure of the school's academics as much as an indicator of the overall school population and atmosphere. North High, where my service learning class has been involved, has a 9% proficiency rating in math. Nine percent!!!! Tests may not be the best measure of achievement, but there's problems there--far beyond what the school has control over.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 12:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I created a post on our family website asking for name suggestions for Shannon boy #2. Just list your thoughts by commenting on that post. We look forward to hearing your ideas!

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 07:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Well, with the break in full swing, I spent an hour or so today creating a Facebook account. For those outside the college realm, Facebook (like MySpace) is a massive social networking tool that is pretty much universally used by my students. You create your own "profile" and then add friends who have their own profiles. You can post messages to one another, share pictures, and basically do all manner of social interactions online. Most interesting were some of the friends I found from high school--still deciding whether or not to make a "friend" request to them. Since so many of my students use it and I've had a few of them request me as a friend, I decided to set something up.

One of the main ways you identify yourself on this (and similar) tools is to list things you're into--interests, books, music, movies, etc. I've always found this a difficult task, but I'm not sure why. On one level, it's interesting that we identify ourselves by the things we consume or how we spend our time. In some measure, it's probably because I feel a little uncomfortable with the picture those things paint. I'm not particularly into music at this stage of life, and bands I would list aren't particularly trendy, or even much related to my real interests. It's interesting there's no "radio program" preferences, which would probably say more than anything about me. Or favorite theologians. After a semester of political economic geography, there's an element of what Foucault called governmentality here--users' identities are constructed in particular ways--I'm supposed to be really interested in books, movies, and music. I'm chafing against that. Of course, there is a generic "About Me" section, but who knows what that's supposed to be.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 03:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

On the news last night, I was surprised to see the face of one of the regulars at my local hardware stores, North End Hardware. As best as I can tell, the workers there are a tight group. There's less than 6-7 guys, and they seem to be always there. It's been a helpful resource for me as an alternative to the faceless, figure-it-out-on-your-own vibe of the local Home Depot. I need a light bulb, the Depot's the place. Need to rewire the light bulb, ask at North End.

In any case, North End was in the news yesterday due to a shooting incident a few blocks away. A DHL driver got caught in some crossfire while in his van. He was able to pull over and walk into the store, which he knew from his delivery route. They were able to call for an ambulance to get him some medical help. This is unfortunate and scary--I was probably driving the same stretch of road with my son, dad, and step-mother just a few hours earlier. But it's nice to know the guys at North End will be there when I need them!

Here's a video report...

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 12:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This clip mirrors how I feel about my life right now in multiple ways. Will our house sell? Is leaving my job worth the risk? Why are we going to Iowa this weekend? Will the Cubs win the World Series? The simple answer: "People will come, Ray."

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 04:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm not really the gambling type. This summer, though, Sarah and I are having to take some financial risks that certainly aren't sure bets. Here's the goal: we'd like to make the move out of our home into student housing. This is a financially motivated decision--I'd like to go to grad school starting in Fall '08, and moving could save us $800-900 a month when all is said and done. However, at the start of the summer, this relied on two things: 1)Selling our current home in a very bad market and 2)Getting a spot at student housing, where we were not at the top of the waiting list.

This situation got either easier or more complicated when we got a call at the end of May offering us a 3 BR townhome at student housing. We said yes, even though our house was not currently on the market. From past conversations, I knew that there were several names ahead of us on the waiting list, but many would not be available until later in the summer. Our best chance would be to get something early and hope for the best. This has since added a new twist: in order to get the 3 BR, residents should have two kids. At the time we were offered a spot, we were pregnant with the second. That unfortunately ended with a miscarriage. Since the offer had been made, though, we were still able to sign up for a 3 BR.

Today, our home has been on the market for two full weekends. Not one showing, though. The fact that a high profile shooting (a tragedy in its own right) happened a block away from our house hasn't probably helped any. There's just not a lot of interest right now, even though our house is unique and gorgeous (even according to objective observers).

So here's the gamble. As of this Friday, we will officially be paying double rent. Given the savings we could expect moving into student housing, if our house does sell in the next couple of months, it's a price worth paying. But will it sell? We have some negotiability on price, but can't (and probably shouldn't) go so low as to ensure a quick sale. What do we do if in a month, at a reasonably low price, there's still not much interest in our house? Do we give up the spot at student housing and potentially go back to the bottom of the waiting list? What if our house sells in September after we've done that? Do we look for an apartment at that point?

The real quandry here is the double rent--it ensures we'll go where we want to, but it's a risk I worry about daily.

Anyway, no real point here, and I hope readers will forgive the belly-gazing nature of this narrative. But we're jumping into the deep end of the pool in a number of ways: I'd be giving up a financially solid job for a few years of very lean living, hoping that we'll be able to pay off whatever debts we accrue at the other end. We're giving up a house we love. It's a gamble all around, and we're walking in faith (more on that in a future post?) that it pays off.

Image: http://www.dwphotoshop.com/photoshop/3d/dice16.gif

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 10:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One thing I've learned living in North Minneapolis: how to pick the right checkout line. Growing up, buying groceries was a simple task. The cashier scanned your groceries, you paid, and that was that. The worst case scenario was getting stuck behind a particularly slow check writer.

In my current neighborhood, things are a little different. Case in point: I made a brief run to Rainbow Foods last night for some essentials. When I got to the checkout, the woman at the front of the line was having her last few groceries scanned one at a time, peering closely at the total cost. She was paying with a food stamp card, and had to stay under her limit. This is a common sight, and I'm always interested to see what groceries are the lowest priority for people. But it takes time.

Next woman, the one in front of me, checks all her groceries through just fine. She pays by credit card, but there's no signature on the back. So the cashier asks to see her ID. She pulls out a license, but it turns out the card belongs to her husband not to her. So more ruffling through the wallet--at least one minute--to find the husband's license. Eventually she does and the cashier lets her sign off and go.

When I was up, I got through in about a minute flat, no hassle.

Behind these delays are real economic pressures. Dealing with limited funds or complex financial lives makes even routine shopping a real act in creativity and bargaining. My boyhood stomping grounds had relatively few people in such a position. Despite this recognition, though, I've learned to scan checkout lines closely for potential line cloggers, using (I'm ashamed to say) the lenses we all have inherited for race and especially class differences. It's one more literacy I've developed living in the 'hood.

Image source: http://crg2000.com/New_Folder3/grocery_checkout.jpg

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 04:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This week's episode of House, MD, (which my wife and I have now become hooked on) was somehow all to familiar. A major plot point involved Foreman, one of the main team of physicians, talking with another doctor about delivering a terminal prognosis to a patient. Don't mince words, he learns. Give the patient time to process. Let them know they're still human.

Fortunately, my line of work involves much less weighty matters. At the same time, I found myself faced with two "terminal diagnosis" of my own--the message that they were either consigned to a failing grade or in very grave condition academically.

This is a tough conversation, especially late in the semester. I like both students I spoke with. For one, other life commitments (some noble, others less so) got in the way. The other got started late for reasons out of her control and has never seemed to fully catch up. These are not interactions I look forward to, but they've become increasingly easier, which may or may not be a good sign for me. Yet the advice on last night's show applies well here:

• It's best to be straightforward--no "well, I just think things don't look to good for you right now." Just be honest--you have no chance of passing.
• It's important to give students a time to respond. No, there's no extra credit. Unfortunately, you can't now decide to turn in work due eight weeks ago. The damage has been done.
• It's important to help students maintain a sense of dignity. On House this meant a gentle touch on the arm or shoulder. In my case, it might be reminding them of what they've done well this semester or something I've appreciated about their work. Perhaps we can talk about what their options are for the future. But there needs to be some recognition that this imminent or probably failing grade does not define them as students or people

Things don't always go well. I've had more than one student shed tears. Like Foreman last night, I usually feel some culpability in their academic demise. What if I had been more attentive or aggressive at inviting this student to office hours? Maybe if I had somehow made my expectations clearer earlier on? Can I bend a rule to let this student slip by? As a course instructor, I always share some blame in a students' failure, though here too I've become less self-blaming as time has gone on. I do my best, but often the prognosis may have been the same no matter who wrote the syllabus.

Learning how to be human in these moments is one of the more difficult tasks of teaching. There's so many ways to try to escape it--faceless emails or even just plain avoidance. Like doctors, though, I hope to continue improving at giving bad news a human face.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Class was cancelled today--a bomb threat resulted in several buildings being closed down. I may regret writing this, but my bet is on some student getting out of a test or just enjoying a power trip. It's obviously quite immature--people can get seriously rattled by this kind of thing, and it has a real cost both academically and economically.

While I was student teaching, about eight years ago, on one of the days my teacher took off, I can remember being pulled out of a classtime. The message: "Someone's called in a bomb threat, but we don't want students to know. Look around your classroom to see if there's any suspicious or new packages lying around." I walked back in and tried to act normal, all the while awaiting the explosion that would tear everything apart. This was the same time as Columbine, so fear was in the air, just like today.

I've gotten more perspective since then. The fact that this threat targeted primarily administration buildings is a telltale sign of a prankster to me--it's that power trip thing. Still, my heart did beat a little faster as I and the other building refugees clustered on a grassy slope while news helicopters buzzed above us.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 02:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Yesterday was the U's first Public Engagement Day. Between teaching and other commitments, I had only time for one breakout section, but it was a good one, on local food. Participants talked in part about various ways that the U has helped support local and sustainable agriculture, partnering with farmers to build the economic and distribution infrastructure needed.

The best part? Every chair in the room had a plate of goodies. Locally made parmesan and soft cheeses. A crunchy whole wheat bread. Butter. Grapes. Granola. Why can't every conference be this tasty???

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Over the last two or three years I feel I've been processing the implications of my evangelical upbringing. While we still go to a church that's evangelical in many ways, I also feel that a little distance has grown between myself and the evangelical mainstream. Or at least enough to have some perspective on it.

Here's one example: As a college freshman, I can remember my distinct disdain for liberal religion. I'd make snide comments about the "social gospel" and a faith that was all love and no rules. Yet more recently, particularly as I've been in a work environment that highly values accessibility (basically the virtue of hospitality) I've thought more about the role rules play in evangelical faith. While we may preach grace, there are lots of ways that legalism can sneak in. For example, I can remember ruling out at least one potential crush in middle school after I heard her swear. "She must not be a Christian," I thought. Now language is important, but there can be a little bit of straining the gnat and swallowing a camel in that one. It reminds me of Tony Campolo's famous line: "While you were sleeping last night, 30,000 kids died of starvation or diseases related to malnutrition. Most of you don't give a shit. What's worse is that you're more upset with the fact that I said shit than the fact that 30,000 kids died last night." There's a level of priorities here.

As a principle oriented person, I think the attraction to these kinds of intricate rules and social conventions can be attractive, but in the end, those laws exclude more than they include. They provide a framework in which church can be, as our pastor said last weekend, a country club, not a community.

I got a taste of that in extreme yesterday when we sent out an email to the college community for a new home for our pet. One response suggested that we find housing that would accept her, rather than essentially tossing her out on the street. After a rather upset reply from Sarah, this person wrote back that "speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves should arguably be an aspect of every person who cares about justice in general, and since i was a recipient of your mass email, about justice for your dog in particular...i see someone acting 'responsibly' irresponsible and i called you on it. i trust your dog would genuinely thank me; maybe you should take a lesson from her. "

What's going on here? Obviously this person feels like he is acting righteously. Yet these rather harsh statements about us without any contextual knowledge of our situation got me pretty steamed. Who is he to say this? Why should he impose his values on us? I began composing quite sarcastic and spiteful replies in my head.

Then it struck me--this is precisely what many people say about evangelicals, those of us who make statements about how people should live and love without any real knowledge of the people we are speaking to. The shoe was, for awhile, on the other foot.

Is this what Jesus came to create? A community of shouters? Now, certainly, Jesus gave his share of harsh words, though those were particularly for a judgmental religious leadership. And the prophets of the Old Testament didn't exactly tone things down for their audience. Yet if the kingdom is characterized first of all by love and grace, I've been increasingly convinced that those "social gospel" folks might have been on to something. Like all such dichotomies, it's not an either or, but there's a synthesis there that the church badly needs.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:54 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Being the liberal social scientists that we are, Sarah and I spent most of yesterday touring the Lower East Side. It was an interesting time--one highlight for me was eating a "tres leches" doughnut at a shop featured on the Emeril show. We had lunch at Katz's Deli, made famous in When Harry Met Sally. In the afternoon, we saw Ground Zero, which was surprisingly underwhelming, since it's now basically a construction site. Then it was Wall Street and the Seaport. We had a yummy dinner at Siam Inn in Midtown--I had a combo plate of sushi and sashimi. Then we saw Inherit the Wind with Christopher Plummer and Brian Dennehy. All in all, a fun day on the town.

Today--the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Harlem. We're looking forward to some soul food!

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 08:33 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm submitting the following editorial to the Star-Tribune. (Am I becoming a journalist now??)

---

There’s been a lot of talk about fires in my north Minneapolis neighborhood recently. Councilman Don Samuels, in a remark he has since apologized for, suggested that the poor track record of students at North High might be cause to burn the place down and start over. It’s not hard to find burnt down buildings in our neighborhood, so I can see where Councilman Samuels got his idea. When problems arise, it’s easy to think that fire presents the most expedient solution.

In North High’s case, fire may be appropriate, but not for the school itself. I have volunteered at North and two other public schools on the northside. At each, I have found caring, motivated, and well trained staff. Unlike some cities, the schools here are often new, well maintained, and equipped with up to date technology. Frankly, the problem isn’t North High.

In fact, with apologies to Councilman Samuels, north Minneapolis has plenty of fires already. I’ve called this neighborhood home for four years. The first two were spent at a house near the corner of Morgan and Broadway, just across the park from North High. Less than a month after moving in, we realized that the convenience store located on our corner was trouble. Drug dealing happened openly and often. Young men would sit on the embankment near one of the station’s driveways and flag down cars as they drove past, using a less than subtle two fingers to the mouth sign to indicate the product they had to sell.

Gunfire was also common. In a six month time frame, I counted ten shootings within a block of our house. I saw two shooting victims myself, though fortunately neither was serious. We decided to move the night two men traded shots across our street. I could see the guns go off through our living room curtain, flashes of fire in the night.

Our new home is fifteen blocks north of the old one, in a quieter area. I’ve made a point of driving by our old place occasionally since our move, just to see what was happening. Sometimes the dealers were there, sometimes not. Last week was a different story. Three of the store’s four walls still stood, but the rest was a pile of rubble. The place had burned down. I feel no grief for it, but realistically, this fire probably didn’t help that much. In our neighborhood, crime has many homes.

Other fires on the northside are more subtle. Sterling, an 11 year old neighbor at our old house, wanted to become a veterinarian and loved watching Animal Planet. Yet when a domestic disturbance flared up at his house late one Saturday night, the police arrived in force, pulled the whole family out of the house, and shot their pit bull for reasons unknown. The first question he ever asked me was, “So, what do you think of this neighborhood?” Even at his age, he knew where he lived, and he knew it wasn’t good. Another blaze was at work in Sterling: an invisible one, but no less destructive and more difficult to put out.

The effects of an even more insidious fire can be found online, at the U.S. Census website. They provide maps of any zip code or city, broken down by major demographic categories. At the south end of our community, a small river, Bassett Creek, separates the Harrison neighborhood from the more prosperous Bryn Mawr. The division is not much to note; it’s only a small bridge on Penn Ave. Yet on the census maps, that small bridge spans wide gulfs of education, race, and income. Simply put, those maps show how clearly this city is segregated along such lines.

If something needs to be burned, this is the place we must start. It is this concentration of poverty and racism that sparks the other blazes I’ve witnessed. When jobs are scarce, drug dealing is a lucrative option. Growing up surrounded by violence, it’s only natural to take it up yourself. Without successful role models to identify with, your own success seems improbable. Surrounded by poverty and despair, there’s no reason to plan for a hopeful future.

Unfortunately, the violence and poverty of north Minneapolis is too often seen as a problem of only this community. Segregation is an easy way for us to wall problems off in urban ghettos, figuring that if the fires there are contained, the rest of us will be safe. Yet it is these walls themselves that feed the flames.

My faith teaches me that when one person hurts, the whole community is in trouble. When one community burns, the rest of us must allow ourselves to feel that heat. Until we deal with the deep racial and economic segregation in our community, these other fires will continue. It will take all of us to accomplish the task of putting them out.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 04:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I've just had one of those "I was close to someone important and didn't even know it" moments. I was looking up the Wikipedia article on Barrington, Illinois, my hometown. I noticed that one of its most famous residents was Henry Paulson. I knew that last name. Amanda Paulson (whom I briefly had a crush on during middle school) was a classmate of mine and our valedictorian. Her father, I found out, is currently Bush's treasury secretary. He also served in the Nixon administration and was a bigwig at Goldman Sachs, a major investment firm. According to Wikipedia, his current net worth is about $700 million.

Does it surprise me that someone like this would live in Barrington? Not really. They have to live somewhere, and South Barrington (where they lived) is as ritzy a place as any in the country. Still, the fact that I have been to the treasury secretary's house (and probably met him at some point) is, to use a technical term, freaky. In some ways, it just reminds me that I grew up in a place where people have a lot of power--something I didn't really understand while I lived there. Wow.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 10:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I just found out today that my favorite local coffee shop, The Bean Scene, is on the verge of closing. For about the last two or three years, The Bean Scene has been a social center in north Minneapolis. It lacks some in the charm department--the imprint of the Burger King that used to be housed there is still on the door handle. But I've seen almost all the local political leaders there, and it's been a good place to hang out in the neighborhood. This might just be the educated white liberal in me talking, but it's a unique space within this place, one where I think a lot of positive things happen. Apparently, just not enough.

Having an upscale coffee shop in the heart of Minneapolis' ghetto was always an uphill proposition. On one level, it doesn't surprise me that fried chicken and burgers outsell lattes here. Ideally, the Bean Scene would have found a business model that was more economically accessible for everyone. Yet beggars can't be choosers, and should it close (as I guess it will), I'll miss it. It's one of a just a handful local businesses started with the intention of bringing more economic stability and culinary diversity to the neighborhodd (Papa's Pizza is another example) that just hasn't been able to get over the economic hump. There's just not a market here for them. Broadway Liquors across the street is owned by the same people, and that seems to be doing much better. Booze, not espresso, is the drink of choice, it seems. Again, I recognize my own economic and cultural bias here. But it's sad to see a business of value to the neighborhood doing so poorly.

This news also comes on the heels of a Star-Trib article last week about the struggles of the Midtown Global Market, a unique food space in South Minneapolis that opened to wide acclaim last year. It's one of the most diverse shopping and eating experiences in the metro, from my perspective. But while that area is much further along the gentrification path (one fraught with difficulty), I guess the economic willpower isn't quite there yet to make Lake and Chicago a cultural hotspot.

Of course, all of this just gets me thinking about Geography and my potential grad school journey. Understanding how food spaces relate to their urban context is something I'm definitely interested in. But all the same, there's a personal connection to both these places that goes beyond scholarly interest for me.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 12:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Two moments from the end of the semester that illustrate why my job is sometimes frustrating:

Students had portfolios due at 4 PM on Friday. I got to work on that day to find an email from a student sent at 10 PM the previous evening. It said (in short) "What's this portfolio thing about again? I forgot. Can you email me back tonight--I have practice until 3 tomorrow." Unfortunately, I and several other instructors do not read our email while watching Letterman. This also comes after a week of in-class review of this assignment.

The second item comes from a portfolio itself. While talking about the ways that he improved at revising, one student wrote (again a more or less): "I did a really good job of revising my essays this semester. As you can see from the draft and final I included, I made many good changes. For example, I added a title to my final draft. This made it easier to tell what it was about. I also made a lot of other good changes to this paper." Now, we do a lot of talk about what makes for substantive revision in my class, and adding a title is definitely NOT included.

Luckily, these examples are the exception, not the rule. But it's still rather frustrating at times--though strangely humorous as well.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

That's the question for me right now. Over the last six months or so, I've been doing a fair amount of soul searching and conversations. I've talked with at least a half dozen professors and the same number of grad students about their experiences in different departments. I'm still not sure what's next for me professionally. But here's what I do know:

First, I will need to make a change. I enjoy my current position at the U quite a bit, but I'm assuming that my chances of having something close to this once Sarah finishes her degree and we have to move will be minimal. Most people who do what I do are adjuncts at community colleges--doing a lot of work for bad pay. I did that for 2 1/2 years in Iowa, and it's not something I really want to go back to. The best case scenario might be a full time community college position, but even that isn't very attractive right now. I've become accustomed to the freedom, resources, and scholarship of life at the U, and I don't really want to go back.

Second, if I do go back to school now, it would be in Geography. I've thought about several other options, including American Studies and Public Health most recently. They're not as good a fit, both practically and academically, as Geography is. The program here at the U is strong, especially in what's called human geography (i.e., studying primarily people, not nature) and in urban studies, which is my broadest niche. There's not anyone focusing on food (my most specific interest) in the department, but there are three in the History department two floors up, and I think I can make it work. I'm taking a Geography class this semester, which I'm mostly enjoying. I've realized that this is really a natural environment for me, talking theoretically about academic stuff. While at times I've fought against the lack of practical value in fields like human geography, I'm just not someone who's going to work in a heavily applied field. I'm encouraged by a conversation I had with a history professor this week who said that she's had more opportunities to teach and work with a public audience over food than she ever has with migration, her main interest.

Third, there are many benefits to doing school now. If I take a course at a time, the U will pay my tuition. After this year, Sarah will be doing prelims and her dissertation for the next few years, which means her schedule will be relatively flexible. And I like being a student--it gives me a sense of direction for my career and keeps me sharp academically as a teacher. It's good for my teaching to be learning new things as a student, so my thinking doesn't go stale.

Fourth, we want another child. Here's where it gets complicated. I know from experience that being an only child has its benefits. However, there are plenty of drawbacks as well. For the same reasons that the next three or so years offer the flexibility for school, they also offer the best window for child #2 to come along. Sarah's life and schooling will still be fairly complicated, and part of my role right now is to help support her. And having another baby and a second child will surely complicate our lives in ways we're not even aware of. Still, Micah, the sequel, trumps my school aspirations. I can always wait 'til the last one reaches kindergarten.

Fifth, what about spare time? Now, given our histories, this is probably not realistic. Sarah and I seem to find a way to overcommit ourselves no matter what we do. But if I just put in my time as an instructor and said that my private life was the real priority, it's possible we wouldn't always feel as overwhelmed as we sometimes do right now. This semester has been pretty dang busy. I'm not sure if I'm not thinking of selling my soul for the sake of my career (and my children's happiness).

So that's where things stand. Right now, I plan to take another course in the spring and make a firmer decision next summer, when we know more what Sarah's schedule post-coursework will look like. I'm also going to be shifting departments again next year, to the new Writing Studies program, so the amount and kind of work I will be doing will change in ways I don't know now. But essentially, the tension I'm feeling is between school and family. I'm not sure it has to be one or the other, but it's something I want to be sure to think through. This has been a lesson that has become increasingly clear as I grow older--that the gap between what we want to do and what we can do can be quite large. The task is to choose the better part and be content with that.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 09:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Micah's been entranced by Bob the Builder recently. Some days, most hours are spent in some Bob drama. He's Bob, or Lofty, or Scoop. Sarah is Wendy. Sometimes Tillie, sometimes, is Bob. We find jobs around the house or the yard, which usually involve hammering on some random wall.

On the one hand, I think it's great that Micah's imagination is growing in this way. He's immersing himself in a world and playing an mostly active role in it. Yet at the same time, I'm ambivalent. The world he's in, is not his own. It's one created by Hit Entertainment. Part of me wishes the world of his fantasies was one he had a more authorial role in creating. Much of his fantasies are simply replaying stories he sees on TV.

In the end, my hesitation relates to my ambivalence over mass media itself. Movies, tv, and the like create virtual worlds that don't actually exist. The competition to win American Idol is ultimately nothing but a well-hyped game, for example. Yet we emotionally connect with these dramas and they define our world for us in many ways--giving a sense of what's normal or accepted. Too often, I feel like these things obscure the reality at our doorstep, what families, marriages, neighborhoods are really like. We accept the representation and not the reality, and let others do the imagining for us. As a parent, I fear that Micah will not fully develop his ability to see and imagine the world for himself. A high goal for a three year old? Perhaps. But a wish I harbour nonetheless.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 10:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Micah's most recent obsession has been building fences. Literally. He wants all open passages throughout the room he's in "closed." Usually this means taking whatever materials are at hand and closing any gaps between chairs, walls, etc., where people might actually walk. He's usually afraid things will "fall out."

Fears in general have been on the rise for our Micah bean. He was scared on our airplane ride to California. When the descent got a little bumpy, he freaked out. Sarah tried to hold him, telling him, "It's all right." His response? "No! Not all right!" He's scared of cars hitting him in the street, and even occasionally of animals eating him at the zoo. While it's sad to see him scared like that, it's also interesting to see how his sense of himself and the world is developing. The world isn't just joy and discovery for him anymore. It's also a place where he can be small and vulnerable.

That's where the fence obsession comes in, I think. It's a way to keep his world clear and contained. We do the same thing--find structures or habits that give us a sense of security and definition when things get overwhelming. (Liturgy is one example that comes to mind.) They're just not as tangible. The world is a big and confusing place, and sometimes we just need to "close it."

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 12:35 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

New Year's Resolutions have made it to Lent this year. Sarah (my wife) has been on Weight Watchers for several months now--with relative success, I might add. As house cook, I've been trying to play along, cooking "low point" meals for her in the hopes that my extra poundage might melt away as well. (For those unfamiliar with WW, participants get a certain number of points each day, and everything eaten deducts from those points). While she's beating me by a healthy margin, I'm definitely dropping a few pounds myself. Not encouraging was the recent health assessment I took for the U. I may have earned $65 for doing it, but I'm officially about 30 pounds more than I should be.

Anyway, I saw our general eating habits as fairly healthy before. We rarely ate fried foods or lots of meat. No processed foods and snacks seemed generally healthy. But on the plan, things have definitely trimmed down. For one thing, our cheese consumption has dropped dramatically. I'm also using much less oil in cooking. Some changes I'm not too crazy about, like the weight watchers branded bread that may only be 1 point for two slices, but tastes like stale air. Low fat sour cream seems like an oxymoron. But there's been benefits, too, like a lower grocery bill, since I've been using low point leftovers for lunch more consistently.

Which brings me to the other point. Now that grad school is firmly a part of Sarah's life, we're trying to keep the financial debt to a minimum. That's been difficult, even though our tax return last year still places us solidly in the 50th percentile nationally. So as a part of "trimming down," I've been trying to keep a closer track on our purchases. Again, I didn't think we were bad before. We had a budget, and I used Microsoft Money to keep track of our spending. But now that I'm simply downloading our purchases from the bank every week or so, I have a much more "real" sense of what we're spending money on. That $45 at Target for a few things around the house starts to seem more significant. Gladly, we've been able to trim down a little more there as well.

All in all, as Lent begins, I feel like I'm counting points in several parts of my life--diet, finances, even time. It feels good in a "let's get some discipline" kind of way. But it's also a very rule bound way of living. I'm not sure yet how that makes me feel.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 08:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

on the bus ride home, a group of teenagers behind you is loudly arguing about whether Nas or JZ has the better lyrical content. Key points--who was dissed by or hung with Biggie and Tupac.

Posted by Jerry Shannon at 02:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)