Why I Miss Bill Clinton (and other thoughts):

I haven't been posting about this because not all important parties had been informed personally until recently. But, that's done, so now I can say it: I'm going to be a sociologist when I grow up!

Until now, I had been pursuing my PhD in social work. However, various circumstances and stars have aligned such that I've decided the Sociology Department here at the U would be the best place for me to continue and finish my degree. The principal factor is that the faculty, research, and teaching resources here best match my long-term scholarly interests. Other "bonus" features include three years of guaranteed funding (no more hawking my wares all over the U!) and my husband joining me in the Social Sciences Tower as a geography PhD student in the fall. Also, I've been working in Soc for the past two years, so I'm already well-integrated here.

That said, nothing essential has changed. I'm still interested in the same stuff and still want to do research that matters and can have an impact (for the better, I hope) on society.

For some reason, when I registered 10 minutes ago for the classes I need to take in Soc this fall (the main "cost" in this decision is that I have to take a few more classes) this all began to feel more real. In a good way.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 01:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I've started a new (additional) blog about my plans for a home birth with this pregnancy. If you're interested, check it out:
Off My Rocker

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 05:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Official word was dispensed via snail mail late this week that my prelim answers were deemed acceptable by the faculty prelim committee. I found the letter in the pile of mail that had built up in our entryway during our trip to Chicago. Notice I'm refraining from saying that "I passed." This is an intentional move on my part to try and separate whether or not my work was passable from my worth as a human being. Not an easy thing to do in fact, but at least I can do it in words.

As has been the case in my scholastic career for as long as I can remember, my writing skills ("clear," "coherent," "logical") were regarded as a key strength in the graders' comments. It seems that, at least in some cases, I can make something that is probably really mediocre in terms of idea/originality sound good enough by writing about it well.

One thing I found satisfying in this experience is that I was not surprised by the weaknesses the graders found in my answers. In fact, I had anticipated nearly all of them. This is satisfying to me in the sense that I feel I can actually judge the quality of my own work fairly well at this point in my career. None of the weaknesses were particularly profound, but I was happy that I already knew what they were.

Needless to say, I'm really happy that I can move forward from here without having to take that test again!

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Well, I might as well just let the whole cat out of the bag. Word has been slowly circulating in the various spheres of my life that I am, indeed, pregnant again. This time, we've heard a heartbeat on two occasions and I'm done with the first trimester as of tomorrow. So, things are looking good for us in terms of a much lower risk of miscarriage this time around. The little one is due sometime in the end of May (I'm not focusing on a particular date, so don't bother asking!). This one's going to be born on her/his own schedule as long as I have any say in the matter! I'm planning to launch a whole separate blog related to my pregnancy and birth plans. More details to come. Assuming all goes well, I will be giving birth to this one at home!

In any case, my gestational status has had ramifications all over my life, obviously. For one, it's meant less late nights, which has meant less blogging - not that I was ever prolific in the first place. For another, it meant that I took my prelims right in the middle of the first trimester, which really, really, really sucked! It was a major factor in my motivational issues during that time period. For another, it means that I want to eat and sleep basically all the time. Nothing unique there, but it complicates where/when I work and how much I get done. Anyway, they say that grad school is the best time for academically-inclined women to have babies. I'm hoping they are right. At least this one will be born in time for summer, a sort of built-in maternity leave...

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Posted by Sarah Shannon at 03:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

One more day to go until prelims are over!

I have complete answers to both questions and edited one of them so that it fits the page requirement. I will likely read it through again before turning it it, but I think it's pretty close to good enough (you can tell my standards are high). So, the big task before me now is to edit the other question. That will be a bit of a task, I think. It's the question I worked on all last week and that almost made me want to give up. I think it will need a bit of help!

In my post-prelims reflection, perhaps I'll consider whether or not it was the best strategy to go after the more difficult question first. Would it have been better to start with something that felt more manageable to get my motivation up early on? Or was it wise to get the harder work over with while I had more energy and then move into something less intense? I don't know.

Finally, I have prelims to blame for yet another missed opportunity to see Bill. He was in Minneapolis at the State Theater stumping for Hill on Wednesday night. Although I toyed with buying a $25 student ticket, I delayed the decision too long and then tickets were sold out. It's probably better for my prelims that I didn't go, but it was tough to make such a sacrifice!

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 12:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Today is Day 3 of my prelim take-home extravaganza. I've written about as many paragraphs so far. Seems like a pretty meager start with only nine days remaining until I turn them in. As anticipated, the hardest part has been motivation and actually sitting down to grind out the answers.

Selecting the questions was really easy. I ruled one out in an instant for various reasons: 1) I'm not interested in the topic; 2) related to #1, I don't know as much about the topic; and 3) I think I know who wrote the question and who will be the primary grader of it (I'll leave it to you to guess why this might be of concern). Unfortunately, anecdotally anyway, I know that this kind of factor tends to play into students' choices in these situations.

The questions themselves are not difficult, in that I feel I can formulate good answers to them. The issue is the amount of work and time it's going to take to do so. Here's where motivation comes in.... Perhaps I should be more mindful of #6 on Chris' Motivational Bull Memo

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 05:15 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

In about 12 hours I will receive by email three essay questions that may be some of the most important I ever answer. Actually, I only have to pick two. I have until a week from Friday to finish my essays and hand them in. At this point, I'm not particularly worried about passing prelims. I'm a solid writer, I'm familiar with the material (read: the 150 books on the reading list), and I've done pretty well on essay tests in the past. So, I've been coaching myself with the mantra that this is just another essay test.

Of course, it isn't.

This is a major hurdle toward the completion of my PhD. If I don't pass, I get two more tries and them I'm outta here. So, no pressure or anything. I have to prove that I've been learning what I'm supposed to learn over the past two years in coursework. Ack.

On the other hand....

For cryin' out loud already! Haven't I done enough to appease the academic gods that now I must spend two weeks answering two extensive, multi-part essay questions? Don't my A's in all the core coursework mean anything? What was I writing and writing and writing and writing and writing for in those? Dear God.

So, motivation is going to be the key issue for me. In truth, I'm just not in the mood to do this. Not for lack of confidence, but more for lack of concern. I don't mean to be flippant about prelims. I'm sure they have their place and I'm willing to play the game to get where I want to be. But I honestly wonder, what on earth will they show that hasn't been manifest already in my academic performance?

I guess we'll find out. Starting tomorrow...

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Maybe I played one too many games of The Oregon Trail in fourth grade computer lab. Or maybe I watched one too many Little House on the Prairie episodes as a kid. Perhaps it's because I'm descended from hearty Scandanavian/German/Irish stock who tilled Midwestern prairie fields in the nineteenth century. Whatever the reason, I have a rather obnoxious habit of comparing myself to pioneer women whenever I'm facing some difficulty or challenge. I call it my Pioneer Woman Complex (PWC).

I've also discovered that I'm not alone in this. Other women I've talked to have shared similar thoughts: "...but then I think about those pioneer women and how they managed it..." For some reason, this tends to be particularly associated with childbearing, childrearing, and balancing these tasks with other work. How on earth did those pioneer women churn the butter, bake the biscuits, tend the garden and bear um-teen children without modern medical care? How did they make it through those long, lonely winters on the plains without losing their minds (a la Giants in the Earth)?

I've had my fair share of such challenges in recent months: a miscarriage in June and my son's impending surgery tomorrow afternoon. In both situations, I've had to consider how to respond. With the miscarriage, I decided to plow on down the trail, pushing myself to keep working and carrying my normal responsibilities as much as possible. That's easy enough to do when it's my just own body that I have to manage. But with Micah's surgery, both for practical and emotional reasons, I'm trying to slow down, stop the wagon, and take care of my loved ones. It's not that I don't have places to get to: prelims are in mid-October in addition to my ongoing research assistantship and other personal writing projects. Taking a week away to focus on caregiving will doubtless affect my performance/productivity in these things, at least to a small degree. But I can't imagine making any other choice, even if I don't make it to "Oregon" at the front of the wagon train...

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Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

In honor of the waning days of summer, this morning I donned a layered cami plus tank-top combo. When Micah spotted me he said, "Mommy, you're not all the way dressed yet!"

I have a feeling that his reaction was due in large part to the fact that I do not often reveal much flesh in my dress. This would likely be considered a strength of mine by the standards of the new "modesty movement" which I heard about on NPR's Talk of the Nation last week. I have not done enough homework to really understand what the modesty movement is beyond its obvious push to encourage young women to cover themselves with more cloth. But the idea of it is about enough to send me bra-burning. I'm of a two minds on this issue. While I often cringe at the minimal amount of clothing I see on many young women these days, I also despise the age-old implication that it is female behavior/dress that is the problem in our culture. Although my son is only four years old, I wonder what my reaction should be when he calls me out on my less-than-modest-housewife appearance? How do I want to shape his early impressions of women and appearance?

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 08:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I labored long and hard over what to do with my last name when I married Jerry. I considered all the usual options, like just taking his name or hyphenating. Jerry considered taking my maiden name. In the end, we landed on both taking my maiden name on as a second middle name. Thus, I am S.K.S.S. and he is G.P.S.S. Now, I sort of wish we'd taken my maiden name.

You see, ever since 1998 when I wed Mr. Shannon, folks have been messing up my name. Essentially, I have two first names: Sarah Shannon. So, when I introduce myself as Sarah Shannon, I'll often get, "Nice to meet you Shannon," or my favorite, "Nice to meet you Sharon." That's all well and good in verbal exchanges. I can see mixing up Sarah and Shannon, or even slurring it all into Sharon. But now it's happening in print! Today I received an email from someone who actually typed my name as Sharon! It's quite clear in my display name via email, and every time I type it, that my name is Sarah Shannon. How does one visually mix that up into Sharon?!? It appears that we can trust neither our ears nor our eyes.

So if you see me walking by and want to get my attention, feel free to holler out Sarah or Shannon or Sharon. I've become accustomed to responding to all and graciously correcting. But if you're going to email me, could you just take a moment to think about in what order you're plunking the keys?

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Posted by Sarah Shannon at 02:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I am by no means original in this sentiment. Zillions of fans are eagerly anticipating this Sunday's final ever episode of HBO's The Sopranos.

Jerry and I have been following the show since about the second season. Along the way we've found various ways to stay abreast of the show, including renting DVDs, asking Jerry's uncle to tape episodes and send them via US Mail from San Diego, and finally signing up for HBO just for this last season (though we may be hard-pressed to give it up after Sunday's finale, since the new season of Big Love is starting on Monday!).

Like many others, I have found Tony Soprano's character alternatively appealing/sympathic and disgusting/pathetic. More the latter, as of late, given his cold-blooded murder of his nephew a couple episodes ago. Probably most compelling is the manner in which the show draws the viewer into this state of moral ambiguity - Tony is both lovable and abhorrent. His actions are reprehensible, yet justifiable within his social context. I find that I often face the same internal tension when talking with young people in the juvenile justice system. Some of them have done some truly terrible things, yet if one delves into the perpective and social reality as interpreted by these youth, the actions can seem, well, a little less wrong - or maybe just a bit more understandable.

Another intriguing elemnt of the show, of course, has been the relationship between Tony and his therapist, Dr. Melfi. Their sessions on screen are notable both for their riveting tension as well as their true-to-life nature. This relationship has recently come under fire as Dr. Melfi "dumped" Tony in last week's episode. Interstingly (to me), she did so partly on the basis of the academic literature in her field. Granted, she was pressued by her own therapist, who demonstrates highly questionable ethical behavior in revealing the idenity of Dr. Melfi's high-profile client to a group of other therapists. But I found the scenes in last week's episode where Dr. Melfi reads the journal article on her laptop, sitting in bed, to be strikingly familiar activity - but I've never seen it portrayed on TV. It turns out the article in question is a genuine one, though an old one, regarding the futility of psychotherpy with sociopaths.

The fact that Melfi decides to turn Tony away based on one journal article and under such duress is hardly professional, at least it's not something that any human service professional should seek emulate from an ethical point of view. Yet I think Melfi represents the audience on screen -she has been along for the whole brutal, bloody ride and has struggled mightily with the moral ambiguity I described above. At what point does one draw the line with Tony? How far can compassion go for such a man? What can be considered "success" in treating such a client?

I for one will be riveted to my seat on Sunday night. Will Tony finally reap what he's sown? Will he survive? If not, who will take him down? I have no doubt it will be a nail-biter right down to the bitter-sweet end.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 12:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's been a whirlwind weekend 'round these parts! The festivities centered around my graduation from the University of Minnesota's School of Social Work with a M.S.W. degree. The School of Social Work's ceremony is lovely and intimate, with family and friends allowed to "hood" the graduates (the Graduate School ceremony does not include hooding of Master's students). I had a great time on stage with Jerry and Micah on hand to hood. I was also honored by a classmate who asked me to hood her.

All this would be hard to beat, but at dinner after the ceremony, the whole family (parents, parents-in-law, sister & hubby, and my own little fam) presented me with the time-keeping beauty pictured here. I have long fantasized about such a clock gracing my walls - I didn't see this coming. There were a few tears...

To cap it all off, a fine group of friends representative of the various corners of my life ventured out to the Cabooze last night where I was serenaded with Lady Madonna by friend and former co-worker Adam Levy and his kick-ass cover band, Hookers and Blow.

And if all this weren't enough, not only have I joined the ranks of professional social workers, I have also recently joined a new club - the Multigravida Club. I am expecting our second child this December, just in time for the holidays!

Phew! I'm tired....and very happy.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 10:08 AM | Permalink | Comments (7)

As far as I'm concerned, evil never looked soooo good. But according to my copy of this week's People magazine (I know, I know...), Ralph Fiennes forgot to pack his magic wand on a recent flight from Australia to India. Apparently, he tried to cast his spell on a flight attendant in the loo. However, the flight attendant has since been suspended from the airline and each claim the other was the intitiator. I'm personally sad to see a favorite actor embroiled in such controversey. Perhaps he should have borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak for the trip???

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

My Chi-town-burb-bred spouse may have had his reasons to watch the Super Bowl, but I had my own: Minnesota's finest contribution to popular music. Like other Minnesotans I've talked to, I relished His Royal Purpleness' performance, including his now-scrutinized behind-the-sheet posturing. Frankly, I was surprised that the initial buzz after the show indicated that Prince's show was considered "toned down" and clean. As I watched the performance, I thought, "oh great, here comes the backlash!" But it has been slow in coming, although gaining in fervor over the past few days. I say, whatever. It's a well-known fact that the electric guitar has phallic connotations and renowned rockers have taken advantage of that fact since rock began. I will admit, however, that Prince's axe might have been particularly phallic, but we wouldn't expect anything less.

On another note, the fit has hit the shan in the Metro regarding yesterday's disastrous commute during what might be considered a "strong flurry" of snow. We Minnesotans do not like to look like fools when it comes to our snow. We're used to it, we like it, and we can drive in it like no one else. Or, at least we can when the plows and salt trucks are doing their jobs. Since moving back to the Twin Cities in 2002, I have been bemoaning the downturn in snow management from what I remember as a youth. I remember as a kid seeing the plows on the road minutes after the first flake hit and almost never having to wonder if there would be school because of course the snow was cleared. Not so these days. The state Dems are gearing up for a battle of the budget over funding for MnDOT and I'm all for it. Who are we if we let a little bit of frozen precipitation bring us down?!?

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 10:36 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

For the past two weeks, in addition to finishing the semester (barely) and continuing pneumonia recovery, I've been spending two hours, three afternoons per week with a group of 15 "low income/at-risk" youth in St. Paul. My beloved former employer wooed me back to teach a round of "Customer Service Skills for Retail." Anytime you get a group of teens together in a room for two hours at a time, the potential is great for much humor and occasional moments of "why am I here?" High school teachers, of course, know this already.

During the course of the training, my pupils have raised some interesting questions and brought to the fore things that I had not considered in preparing the training. Here they are:

1) What do you do if one of your enemies comes to the business where you are working and starts making trouble? What do you do? (Hint: enemy in this context signfies someone with whom you have live conflict and are likely to fight with physically or shoot a gun at/be shot at, etc). I didn't know how to answer this one, so I had the group brainstorm and we came up with a few options: take a break and go outside of the business to deal with your enemy, talk with your supervisor about the problem, ask your supervisor to be reassigned to a task in a location where your enemy cannot interact with you.

2) In discussing conflict and how to handle it (e.g. above), one student offered this assessment of his skills: "The last time I had a conflict, I felt the need to beat somebody up. They hit me on the back of the head so I had to." Never having been in such a situation where I felt so compelled, I wasn't sure what to say, so I continued going over the worksheet on ways to handle conflict, such as taking deep breaths, discussing the problem, etc, etc. Realzing the moment of total disconnect, I later made fun of myself for never having had the occasion or wherwithal to beat someone up. Got some good laughs - the self depricating goodie-two-shoes-white-girl-from-the-burbs card is a good one to play in such moments.

3) Yesterday, I orchestrated a simulated "corner store" in our conference room, utilizing a real cash register, and had the students take turns playing several customer service positions, such as cashier, stock person, and customer service representative. At one point, one young man working the register suggested that we simulate what to do in a robbery and began grabbing cash out of the drawer. I quickly told him (smiling) that I was not a qualified trainer on this topic and we continued on as normal.

It's been a lot of fun - much more so than a lot of my "ivory tower" activities of late. These kids are what it's all about for me.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 12:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

We were burgled again yesterday. Last time it was the house (at 4am while we were upstairs in bed). This time it was the garage. The hubby's bike was stolen and the snowblower got a gander but nothing else is missing. Our aware and thoughtful neighbor heard the noise, saw the act, and called the police. Unfortunately, the police arrived after the perpetrator fled with the bike, but they were kind enough to call soemone to come and cover the busted side door with a massive piece of plywood.

The police also left us with documentation that is becoming all-too-familiar: the blue card. For those unfamiliar, the blue card (postcard-sized) contains phone numbers to contact regarding crime and a case number for whatever crime you have been a victim of. This makes our third blue card within 12 months. We had the pumpkin through the front door last Halloween, the house break-in last April, and now the garage. I would much rather have our garage breached than our home, but what's most irritating about being a victim of such crimes is the money and time it takes to repair the damage left behind. This event also marks our third damaged door, though thankfully it looks as though this one can be reparied versus replaced. This perp had the same m.o. as the first burglar in that he simply kicked the door in (same guy??? not real creative...). Replacing a door is not only expensive but also time-consuming. It can take a whole day (at least for amateurs) to properly fit and hang a door.

During my summer at the juvenile facility, I participated in a "victim impact group" for the young men. Speakers who were victims of various crimes, or representatives of victims, were brought in to speak each week. Many of these speakers urged the young men to consider the consequences for victims of their crimes beyond just the loss of a particular object or a specific injury, such as time, money, and energy to recover from the crime. I don't know what, if any, of this "sank in," but I said a lot of (internal) "amens" as I heard other victims recount the frustration and irritation of paying, in dollars and sweat, for the damange someone else has done.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:38 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

The National Association of Social Work informs me that, as part of an ongoing campaign "to increase awareness and understanding of the social work profession," Help Starts Here stamps are now available from the US Postal Service. As a part of the same campaign, profiles of "real social workers who help their clients turn their lives around" can be found in each issue of O, the Oprah Winfrey Magazine.

Has anyone else ever had their profession of choice featured on a postage stamp or profiled monthly in Oprah's magazine? What do you think of this? Would you adorn your mail with your profesion's postage stamp? It's a curious thing. Social workers have a bad rap, no doubt. And we're not getting any breaks in recent years from funders demanding more service for less money. But is all this really necessary? Better yet, is it effective? By what measures? Will those in the demographic categories most in "need" of social workers' services and perhaps most resistant to such services find a postage stamp and stoires in O compelling? Hmmmm...

In any case, if you're shopping for a career change, a recent workforce study predicts a shortage of social workers to meet burgeoning needs of elders and youth in the years to come...

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 02:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

This pretty much sums up my Montreal experience. I could stop right here, but let me elaborate...

Surely if you have ever travelled to or lived in Canada (or a US location that boasts this fanchise), you are familiar with Tim Horton's. This unpretentious bakery chain is home to delectable, delightfully un-healthy Timbits which I consumed on a daily basis whilst on Canadian soil. So yummy...

Of course, within the first 24 hours of my stay came the news of the foiled terrorist plot and all its repercussions, which delayed some conference attendees and sent others into speculations and conjectures regarding pending flights homeward. Since I already believe that death is imminent whenever I set foot on a plane, I did not find the new threat-level-status to be all that troubling, though I was momentarily excited by the idea of not carring anything beyond a book onto the plane. As is my wont, I in fact ended up carrying a heavy backpack void of any lotions or gels but filled with books and papers which I did not peruse, save one, on the entire flight home. Turbulance due to a thunderstorm somewhere over Wisconsin gave me reason to entreat the mercy of a Benevolent God for a solid ten mintues in-flight. Palpitations and chest pains persist even though feet are now on solid ground.

By far the highlight of this conference, during the past two years I have attended, was the annual AIDS benefit reception and auction. The reason for this is simple: the organization hires a band to play music and at least one (though last year it was quite a crowd) self-assured sociologist hits the dancefloor. I had to give this year's dance-off's sole competitor and hand-down winner her propers. The lights were not nearly low enough, nor the drinks cheap enough, to compensate for my lack of self-assurance. Don't get me wrong, this homegirl knows how to cut a rug...

Lastly, after imbibing a lovely hard cider beverage at a local downtown tavern, I sat with two friends last night, swapping family funeral stories. Here are a few highlights:

*Bubba neighbor in Tennessee who peers into grandfather's casket and, when asked by grandmother if he knew her husband, said neighbor replies, "Nope" and walks away. A community pastime, perhaps?

*Puerto Rican grandmother nursing a beer under her jacket during Catholic funeral mass

*Recognizing funeral home draperies as the same as one's mother's, only in pink instead of off-white, during great-grandmother's visitation

Sure, I organized and presided over a session, during which I presented a paper. That will be good for the resume and scholarly pursuits. I also may in fact have gained 10 lbs in fried doughnut batter. But I think I'll remember the stories shared late and long, with much laughter, more than anything else.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 12:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Nobody, that I know of, likes doing paperwork. No, I take that back, my mother does. She spent tax season putting her number-crunching skills to work at H&R Block. But most people I know don't like it, especially those of us in the "helping professions" because we would like to be spending all of our valuable time helping people (as I am clearly doing at this moment).

But I am currently having an intriguing problem completing my paperwork here at my internship site - a residential facility for youth adjudicated for criminal acts. I'm attempting to fill out an "intake report" for one of my unit's most recently acquired residents. I seem to be able to only sit and write one sentence at a time before needing to get up and leave my office or surf the internet. I think the problem is that the sentences I have to write are so painful, I can't really handle the fact that I'm writing what I'm writing. For example, "Bob's (not his real name) father is deceased; he was murdered in 1994." Or this, "Bob's life has been marked by several traumas, including witnessing one relatve stab another to death in 1997." If I can't handle writing this stuff, I wonder how these children can manage (or perhaps not manage, as their residence at this facility might indicate) living it.

This leads me to at least one conclusion: it's a good thing that I'm planning to become a social scientist, rather than a social worker. Don't get me wrong, social workers are great. Many I know are fantastic, at that. I've been having a lot of fun "playing" one this summer. But I think my psyche is far better suited for handling this material when it is "data" vs. the facts of someone's life for whom I am somehow directly responsible. Maybe I'm just too soft*, as my young charges would have it.

*- the term "soft" denotes, in slang, the condition of being a chicken shit, for those of us not quite caught up on the young people's lingo

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

Listen to this.

Maybe it's because I've only recently come to identify myself as a social worker, but I've lately begun to tune-in to how much of a bad rap social workers have in the media (case in point: Simpsons episode "Brawl in the Family," season 13).

A week or two ago I was watching one of my favorite crime shows, Without a Trace (Anthony LaPaglia makes my heart go pitter-pat!), and was dismayed when, upon finding two children abaondoned by their crack-addicted mother to be raised by their 15-year-old brother, Agent Spade, with a grim, knowing look, turns to Agent Fitzgerald and says, "Who's gonna call Social Services?"

It's not that social work, historically, is without blemish. Certainly, wrongs have been (and likely continue to be) committed. But I know a lot of social workers with good hearts who are passionate about social justice and making a difference. And I think some of us do.

It doesn't help that the profession has been in a century-long identity crisis, thanks in part to Abraham Flexner's 1915 critique. Honestly, it's a bit of a challenge to be pursuing higher education in a field that's, well, not quite sure what it's all about.

Yet, I remain optimistic and resolved to forge ahead. Maybe I can lend my brain (such as it is) to figuring a few things out. In the mean time, if you see us getting a bum rap on your boob tube, consider the benefit of the doubt. We're not all that bad...

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 04:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

This incisive question comes to you courtesy of my spouse who, while watching the opening minutes of Friday the 13th part 2 last weekend wondered if it was really necessary for Jason to prank call his victim before taking an ice-pick to her temple. It's tactics like this that tend to make or break the "spookiness" of such films because the scare is really all in the anticipation. In light of today's date and the moon cycle, I though I'd share a few brief reflections on (relatively) recently viewed spine-tinglers.

Friday the 13th - not really scary until the swamp-boy-canoe-attack scene at the end. Not enough scaffolding to understand the killing until the last 10 minutes. I need a little more plot to go with my "strip" Monopoly game and bloodbath.

Helter Skelter (1976) - not really a "horror" flick, but it's shelved in that section at most video stores. Several creepy looks from Charlie during the courtroom drama accentuate the true scare of contemplating this plot's historical reality.

Ghost Story - overlook the hokey special effects and appreciate the art of a well-told spook tale. Definitely a classic.

The Changeling - there's nothing like a haunted house and a riveting seance to make for a heart-pumping, nightmare-inducing thrillride. Plus, you get George C. Scott!

Audrey Rose - I was with this one up until the primer in Hinduism. Gets a bit too preachy, but solid performances by Anthony Hopkins and Marsha Mason plus an interesting premise salvage this one from total disaster. Among the director's other credits - "The Sound of Music."

The Exorcism of Emily Rose - one of my personal favorites of 2005 and one of the best of this genre made in a long time. Chilling and deep. My kind of flick!

Sweet shivers!

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 09:44 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

A month or two ago, I threw away a crucifix. I'm not a Catholic, so a crucifix doesn't quite hold the significance for me that it could. Still, I threw it in the garbage only after engaging in intense self-scrutiny and informally polling a few family members and friends on the potential eternal consequences of such an act. The small symbol had been sent to me by a charitable organization with, presumably, the intention of arousing my giving impulses. I knew I would not display it anywhere and, having just moved to a new house six months ago, I've made a personal pledge to avoid the accumulation of any further knick-knacks that will be unused, stored in boxes, and carted along to the yet another attic next time we move. In my own defense, I should add that I at least attempted to pawn the object off to someone else before resorting to the trash can. No takers.

Today, I received a mailed request from the Sierra Club to join their team. Upon opening the envelope, I found myself disappointed not to find any freebies enclosed. I realized that I've come to expect, almost with a sense of entitlement, such things to accompany fundraising letters. My husband, on the other hand, received a request from St. Jude's, which treats children with cancer. His included two sheets of address labels. Now that is a useful and appealing freebie! However, recalling the crucifix dilemma as I read the heart-wrenching letter about children with terminal illness, I began to wonder about this whole thing. Is it ok to keep and use gifts sent on behalf of suffering children, even if I don't give to their cause? What about the ethics on the part of benevolent organizations sending such things to people in an attempt to manufacture feelings of obligation to give? Neither the Sierra Club nor St. Jude's will be receiving donations from us - not because we're heartless, but because our charitable giving funds are designated elsewhere. I have to admit, though, that the Sierra Club's letter made it into the recycling bin a heckuva lot faster than St. Jude's. I'm not sure what to think about that.

Posted by Sarah Shannon at 10:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)