I was looking at the LA Times today regarding the wildfires there, and then chanced upon some great articles about Hawaii. There were descriptions of Hawaiian specialties and, even better, good cheap meals on Oahu. My grandparents are there and have invited me for the holidays, but I will be there for work in mid December. Hopefully that will be enough for enjoying the yummy food I read about today.
None of these sound like the red cabbage, mashed potatoes or pfefferneuse I'll be craving in December.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
A Selfish Theory of Parenting
For a long time I have viewed my own desires to parent in the future skeptically; I am a highly educated, competitive person and I there will always be some aspect of child rearing that will be trying to make a more perfect child. I had amazing, loving parents and I would want to provide for my future children a similarly idyllic childhood. I would also want to educate my children to sports, culture, literature and music.
Last night another aspect of this acculturation became clear to me as a motive for parenting: one can raise their children to love what they love. No matter how much a person can share with a lover or a spouse, there will always be something that you disagree on: video games, horror movies, or 80s music. And it seems so much like cheating to make a strong connection with another person, of any sex. So we have children to share our loves with them. And by sharing our love with them our love grows for them.
This became clear to me last night watching the amazingly fantastic film Stardust based upon a tale of the same name by the author Neil Gaiman. I don't know why I took so long to watch it - I saw at it the dollar theatre - because it was precisely the movie I needed to see. I loved cameos by Ricky Gervais and Dexter Fletcher, and the narration by Ian McKellen. But mostly I loved it for it's spirit and whimsy; it is a fairy tale, this decade's Princess Bride. And as I sat, transported, unable to move (although I had a very full bladder) I realized that although I wanted everyone I knew to see this movie, I also wanted to hide it away from them, to make sure that I wouldn't have to face the disappointment of someone else merely liking, or enjoying or appreciating Stardust. (Can anything be so insulting as being appreciated?) And so for the first time in my life I desperately wanted to have a child to show this movie to - to read the story to - or to tell the story aloud as a bedtime story to.
After I got out of the film I realized that I really wanted the opportunity to introduce a child of mine to the joys of strawberry shortcake, the music of Josh Ritter and a myriad of other delights. If only this didn't require nine months of eight gain and moodiness and 18+ years of worry and responsibility.
Last night another aspect of this acculturation became clear to me as a motive for parenting: one can raise their children to love what they love. No matter how much a person can share with a lover or a spouse, there will always be something that you disagree on: video games, horror movies, or 80s music. And it seems so much like cheating to make a strong connection with another person, of any sex. So we have children to share our loves with them. And by sharing our love with them our love grows for them.
This became clear to me last night watching the amazingly fantastic film Stardust based upon a tale of the same name by the author Neil Gaiman. I don't know why I took so long to watch it - I saw at it the dollar theatre - because it was precisely the movie I needed to see. I loved cameos by Ricky Gervais and Dexter Fletcher, and the narration by Ian McKellen. But mostly I loved it for it's spirit and whimsy; it is a fairy tale, this decade's Princess Bride. And as I sat, transported, unable to move (although I had a very full bladder) I realized that although I wanted everyone I knew to see this movie, I also wanted to hide it away from them, to make sure that I wouldn't have to face the disappointment of someone else merely liking, or enjoying or appreciating Stardust. (Can anything be so insulting as being appreciated?) And so for the first time in my life I desperately wanted to have a child to show this movie to - to read the story to - or to tell the story aloud as a bedtime story to.
After I got out of the film I realized that I really wanted the opportunity to introduce a child of mine to the joys of strawberry shortcake, the music of Josh Ritter and a myriad of other delights. If only this didn't require nine months of eight gain and moodiness and 18+ years of worry and responsibility.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
A Noble Profession
When I envisioned my future as a child, I always thought that I couldn't settle for a job, or a career, but a profession. For this purpose, my definition of a profession is a little more specific than that of common parlance. I mean a paid position that defines a person's life, their skills, values and passions; it doesn't just pay the bills. Such occupations include priest, soldier, professional athlete and rock star. When you meet someone with a profession, you are instantly clued into the very nature of a person, in a way you can never discern the depths of a banker, or human resources staffer. But even more importantly, many of these professions have an essential nobility- a goal of making the world a better place, in whatever way one describes 'better'.
I have led an advantaged life and given all the proverbial giants' whose shoulders I've stood upon, I want to make a mark upon the world. Classmates and peers of mine had similar dreams, but not many of us seem to have realized them yet. In fact, I feel the need to pick on a representative of my compatriots that I am disappointed in, Chelsea Clinton. In an article in Talk Magazine in 2001 (much discussed online, but I can't find a copy of the original), when she was starting graduate work at Oxford, Chelsea wrote about her feelings towards September 11, being an American abroad, and the swelling sentiment of her, my, generation - wanting to improve the world. But as a recent New York Times article points out, she worked for McKinsey and now works for a hedge fund; her charity work focuses upon ballet. None of these represent the noble intentions Chelsea professed to have. And friends of mine from college have done the same thing, arguing that they can make money to give away to charities. But no amount of money can make up for how much we/they buy into the status quo every day with jobs supporting big business. (Digressions could go here regarding the nuanced matters of business and when it is good or bad, or how much the rest of us by purchasing gas or groceries from major chains aren't doing any better.....) So if I state a desire to do more, I can't settle for an interesting, lucrative job, even if it is temporary. (Although all evidence points to this being the best way to get ahead in the do-good industries too- you can quickly earn enough money to take a pay-cut while gaining the experience and connections necessary to succeed in more lofty work. The Clinton Foundation, with work more ambitious than Chelsea's, poaches most employees from the consulting sector according to the Atlantic.) A few caveats: if one doesn't hold or state these exalted beliefs, one has a complete right to a high-paying, exciting, career - especially if one has had to face barriers greater than anything I've ever encountered. It's just hypocrites that annoy me.
So now I have to pick my profession. After presenting these ridiculously high standards, I have a tough job ahead of me. But, to be honest, I'm tired of typing tonight, so we'll just have to wait for another day.
I have led an advantaged life and given all the proverbial giants' whose shoulders I've stood upon, I want to make a mark upon the world. Classmates and peers of mine had similar dreams, but not many of us seem to have realized them yet. In fact, I feel the need to pick on a representative of my compatriots that I am disappointed in, Chelsea Clinton. In an article in Talk Magazine in 2001 (much discussed online, but I can't find a copy of the original), when she was starting graduate work at Oxford, Chelsea wrote about her feelings towards September 11, being an American abroad, and the swelling sentiment of her, my, generation - wanting to improve the world. But as a recent New York Times article points out, she worked for McKinsey and now works for a hedge fund; her charity work focuses upon ballet. None of these represent the noble intentions Chelsea professed to have. And friends of mine from college have done the same thing, arguing that they can make money to give away to charities. But no amount of money can make up for how much we/they buy into the status quo every day with jobs supporting big business. (Digressions could go here regarding the nuanced matters of business and when it is good or bad, or how much the rest of us by purchasing gas or groceries from major chains aren't doing any better.....) So if I state a desire to do more, I can't settle for an interesting, lucrative job, even if it is temporary. (Although all evidence points to this being the best way to get ahead in the do-good industries too- you can quickly earn enough money to take a pay-cut while gaining the experience and connections necessary to succeed in more lofty work. The Clinton Foundation, with work more ambitious than Chelsea's, poaches most employees from the consulting sector according to the Atlantic.) A few caveats: if one doesn't hold or state these exalted beliefs, one has a complete right to a high-paying, exciting, career - especially if one has had to face barriers greater than anything I've ever encountered. It's just hypocrites that annoy me.
So now I have to pick my profession. After presenting these ridiculously high standards, I have a tough job ahead of me. But, to be honest, I'm tired of typing tonight, so we'll just have to wait for another day.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
I Want Everything; I Want Nothing
This week I feel the need to skip a little head in my logical discussion of my future to discuss my current quandary: I don't know what I want. Now for some or even most people this may be a standard state of affairs, but I am generally accustomed to knowing my mind. Indeed I have found it difficult to relate to friends and family who haven't seemed to know their minds.
But now I am in their shoes. I don't know if I want to continue in physics, or in what field of physics, or the best course to take to get where I want to be in 20 years if I stay in physics. And I don't know if I want to do all this if I am only a mediocre physicist and would work at a lower tier university. Going for academic positions at some level requires you to take what you can get, and I'm not sure I want to have to settle for a town or a university where I don't want to be. The whole academic thing becomes even more complicated if I try to figure out how a romantic relationship would fit in. Would I let myself follow and get a job on the coattails of someone else? Because I am a female in physics and via affirmative action a little in demand, would I make someone else follow me? Could I take being separated long term? Could I raise children as interactively as I would want to if I also want to be a successful, traveling scientist? Would I want a husband/partner to be more involved in their upbringing than me?
Of course, I could change tack and do something else: try to work in governmental science policy, or make money as a consultant/trader/banker. I could even try my hand at writing. Or go to school for something else. I would like to earn more money than my parents have, since I was given every advantage available I would like to be able to provide the same for my (possible) future children. There is something incredibly seductive about being more engaged with the world than sitting in an ivory tower. Or what if I just have an interregnum in my academic career and take some time to teach physics in a developing country through the Peace Corps?
All of these sound like good ideas to me, but that's all they sound like currently. No of them gives me the gut feeling that it is what's right. So do I keep searching for that feeling? When nothing is so perfect it is difficult to work towards any of these goals. So I'll get my Ph.D. And then what? I want to do all of these things, but not one of them is exactly what I want. If I look back on my life when I'm 65 I won't regret having done any of these things, nor will I regret not having done any of them.
This indecision is wearing away at me day by day. I have internal debates, debates with friends, and I scour the internet for new options. I hate the apathy and dejection that accompanies these doldrums. Why can't I just learn to take my future as it comes?
But now I am in their shoes. I don't know if I want to continue in physics, or in what field of physics, or the best course to take to get where I want to be in 20 years if I stay in physics. And I don't know if I want to do all this if I am only a mediocre physicist and would work at a lower tier university. Going for academic positions at some level requires you to take what you can get, and I'm not sure I want to have to settle for a town or a university where I don't want to be. The whole academic thing becomes even more complicated if I try to figure out how a romantic relationship would fit in. Would I let myself follow and get a job on the coattails of someone else? Because I am a female in physics and via affirmative action a little in demand, would I make someone else follow me? Could I take being separated long term? Could I raise children as interactively as I would want to if I also want to be a successful, traveling scientist? Would I want a husband/partner to be more involved in their upbringing than me?
Of course, I could change tack and do something else: try to work in governmental science policy, or make money as a consultant/trader/banker. I could even try my hand at writing. Or go to school for something else. I would like to earn more money than my parents have, since I was given every advantage available I would like to be able to provide the same for my (possible) future children. There is something incredibly seductive about being more engaged with the world than sitting in an ivory tower. Or what if I just have an interregnum in my academic career and take some time to teach physics in a developing country through the Peace Corps?
All of these sound like good ideas to me, but that's all they sound like currently. No of them gives me the gut feeling that it is what's right. So do I keep searching for that feeling? When nothing is so perfect it is difficult to work towards any of these goals. So I'll get my Ph.D. And then what? I want to do all of these things, but not one of them is exactly what I want. If I look back on my life when I'm 65 I won't regret having done any of these things, nor will I regret not having done any of them.
This indecision is wearing away at me day by day. I have internal debates, debates with friends, and I scour the internet for new options. I hate the apathy and dejection that accompanies these doldrums. Why can't I just learn to take my future as it comes?
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Christmas Plans
This year, my family is heading to Panama for Christmas, and I get to decide if I am joining them, or perhaps spending Christmas with other extended family or friends. And the decision of where to go is tough, and I am finding it difficult to make an objective decision. Until I saw an article recently about Panama, and I decided I would use what I could find in the news to choose a Christmas locale. This article in the NY Times describes the man who first noticed that poisonous diethylene glycol was in toothpaste, and went to great pains to notify the health authorities. But I can't decide if this bodes well or not for Panama. There is at least one conscientious man living there, but do I want to visit a country where the toothpaste is illegally imported from China and has anti-freeze in it?
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