Heavy Metal and Church

When I first moved to this city in the Deep South, I discovered that in my house, I had a hard time getting radio station signals on my little clock radio, which even has an antenna.  One Sunday morning this summer as I was cleaning after moving in (yes, this might be even the day I found what I believe to be a sex toy of some sorts in the bathroom cabinet... nice cleaning job landlord!), I had the radio on to the one station I could get somewhat clear reception.  Some might call it a classic rock channel, while I've never paid enough attention to note what the radio station labels itself.  They play various artists such as Black Sabbath, the Who, Nirvana, to what has been labeled as "Southern Rock", a category I still do not understand.  While I would listen to some of these artists on their own, some of the music is not my first choice or reminds me of people from my past I would like to forget.  Yet, I am digressing from my point.... it's one of the only radio stations I can get in my house or car that is not strictly country (not anything wrong with county, I just don't like new country music).  So, I played this station this one Sunday morning...

Sometime in the later morning hours as I was cleaning and my attention came back to the radio station, and I realized it was not music anymore, but a live broadcast of a church service.  While I don't know what church it was, based on where I live and the proportion of churches here (Southern and Primitive Baptist ones dominate), I'm guessing from this and what was said, it was some sort of Baptist church sermon being broadcasted.

I thought this was ironic at the time... come on, Black Sabbath is not generally considered Christian music. But what do I know, or as a sociologists, I do know about value contradictions.

Eventually, I saved myself from the lack of radio stations when I received my Ipad and could play Pandora or using the Ipod in the car. But again this is a digression from my point.

This past Sunday the kids and I went to church and came home after before leaving for something else. It's about 3 minutes or less travel time between the Unitarian Univeraslist church and our house; alas not always worth the effort to plug in the Ipod. As we were driving back to our house, the heavy metal station was on in the car, but it was church time on the station. 

While I only listened for a few minutes, I found myself debating/yelling at the radio and the pastor (is this the right word... I'm not a religious scholar) as he (and it is always a he in the Baptist church), discuss being human. As days have passed since Sunday, I forget all that was said, but the one point that just got me was him talking about being a chair vs. being a human (what an analogy!).

So, the pastor talked about how a chair knew what it is... a  chair knows it is a chair. He then went on to talk about humans and something about morality, which is when I stopped listening.  Okay, but how can you even make this comparison to humans to a chair? I'm not a philosopher, but a sociologist. A chair does not know it is a chair because well a chair doesn't have a brain, feelings, and the so forth. Sorry folks, a chair is an object.  Instead, we as a society have decided it is a chair and what it should be used for. We have constructed the meaning of this object.... and this could differ depending on time, place, etc...

Yes, this may seem like a trivial topic to post about, but I still can't believe the comparison used. And as a sociologist, this comparison seems even worse, especially if his point was about how we as humans are supposed to be good people and look to "God" to know how to be good and what we should do.  This brings on a whole new host of issues, such as my strong held belief if you need "God" to tell you how to be good, well, you might have some thinking to do. Or that with these conservative religions, the preachings of "God" don't always tell you to be good to others (i.e. LGBTQ folks, abortion providers, etc..).  

So, to end, no sir, a chair does not know what it is. A chair does not think. A chair is wood. The wood may have came from a living tree, but it is now wood. A chair is not a living, breathing thing with a mind. Instead, we have constructed what it is as a society. It is a social construction. And to use this as an example of why or how we should believe in "God" seems a bit out of the woods.

What, I made a gramatical error yesterday?

Ms. Knowledge apologize not only for her grammatical errors in her previous post (way to go professor!), but also her post describing her depressed mood. And why is Ms. Knowledge talking in Elmo speak (i.e. third person)? (Editorial Note... this was started yesterday, but finished today

Today is a new day, but another learning lesson in being in a TT job. Today I received the scores my first annual review and the summary of my peer teaching evaluation that happened yesterday (wow, my colleague works fast). I discuss the results of the annual review with my chair on Monday. I don't know what to think, though I do have concerns. Like any evaluation, I think there are things we can agree with that we already knew, but there are things that remain mysteries (such as how student evaluations of teaching are rated, especially when you are prepping all new classes and just moved cross county) and well the fear of publishing is now escalated (well, I guess it always is, isn't it?).  I've said this here before, but as a friend from graduate school once said, we have to be perfect at everything.  And I full well knew this before accepting my TT job, but it seems so different when the  you are actually on the tenure clock.

So this leads me to a few topics and questions that may or may not be discussed as I write this while trying to prepare dinner (mulch-tasking), a day spent trying to figure out per-aprroval for a mortgage to buy a house here, a faculty meeting, and well getting the results back from what I mentioned above. I am tired. I am burnt, but yet I have this odd sense of energy as the week ends and I reflect.

Losing my sh**

I've tried for this entire week to construct a blog post on the trailing spouse... I write too much. I think too much. I get distracted. I get away from my main point.

I love my job. Don't get me wrong. I didn't have to come back into academia. But it's not the glorious path many think. Some of us get jobs in good colleges/universities, but in small, rural towns. These are not R1 schools, which is fine by me, but you also don't have the access to the same resources. But I'm not complaining about that...

My partner came with me to support our family, but he gave up amenities for his career to do so. My partner does have his own business and has to her for the sake of our location. He is not an academic.

We have to find a different place to live here, but are limited with finances. I dislike my neighbor so much I often feel sick when I see him. Our rental house is small. My office is the kitchen table, which does not work well.  My partner works from home... I need space to work from home but not be near him. My kids need a space to be kids.

I'm carrying around my own depression, anxiety, guilt, which is enough to derail my mind from the publishing I need to be doing. And then I carry around the guilt, real or imagined, in relation to my family moving here.

No, it's not my dream town. I have a few friends (but it's hard to classify friends as an adult). I feel my own isolation .

At times like this, I wish I could just be a conservative and say well "god will tell me what to do" or "if I pray hard enough, things will work out", but I don't believe in that (but unfortunately I am surrounded by this in Southern Baptist land).

Maybe y'all would handle this all better, but feel that I am losing my shit at times .I want to the be the rock star scholar, but maybe I never can obtain this. Maybe things have to change in ways I don't want to think about or admit, but now, I'm in a low place that I need to get out of .

Am I the only academic who has dealt with these things with a non-academic spouse who follows?????

from gangs and drugs to the rural deep South: finding your place

I wrote earlier, for which I congratulate myself. I write now, hoping something coherent spills on the page, which is not easy for me in general, but it's not particularly easy to type on a lap top with a brace on for carpal tunnel.   But here it goes because at the least blogging makes me feel somewhat productive, but really, it lets me think "out-loud" to myself on paper (well the computer screen).  And I am inside my head way too often, which I am going to venture to say many academics are, but ones who struggle with anxiety and depression may feel this to an extreme.

I now reside in a very small town. I hope I have made friends, but I wonder if I have.  I live in a very small town in the rural south, in which I will never completely fit in. I was born and raised in the Midwest and lived thirteen years in the Twin Cities metro area in Minnesota. I lived in the inner-city in Minneapolis. We had gangs, graffiti, gunshots, muggings, you name it. Did I ever tell you about the time there was a kid in our freshly tilled garden who ran from the police after a sting? As he laid with a sawed off shot gun... Yea, that was kind of interesting. Or the man who stole my  mac computer early in the morning, while I ran in my house to protect myself and family. Or the guy my partner gave a $20 to in his empty diaper bag who said he needed to buy diapers for his kid. Or, the guy who came up to my house asking for money and when I told him I didn't carry cash, he said I could drive him to the ATM. Yea, like that happened. So, yes, we had some interesting experiences.

But I loved my neighbors. At the end we were close. We borrowed tools. We helped each other remodel and garden. We grilled. We stopped by. We had block parties.  I miss our big old house. My once colorful (green and purple in the living room and dining room) house. I miss my attic bedroom that felt like a tree house. I miss my garden and all the flowers I spent years cultivating. Snow... I don't miss you, nor the cold.

But I think of Simmel's work as I think about life now and then. I'm too tired to go and find his quotes, but to say there is something about living in a large area.  You can be anonymous. I didn't know everyone in Minneapolis. I didn't even know everyone in our neighborhood. Sure, I thought at the time how great it would be to be somewhere where you were a closer knit community, people knew you, and there would be this ethic of community. People may know my shit, but they would care?

Now I live here... this small community in rural Southeast Georgia. When I got here, things seemed to be great. You are new and people invite you over. And then things trickle off as they have their things going and I was/am supposed to be working or having found my group? But that's the thing, the University is about the size of the town and most of us are friends with people there. The pool is small in many ways. And yes, people know your shit when you do dumb shit (not speaking about me... Yes, I've done dumb shit in my life, but that was prior to the internet!).  But since the pools is small and a friend and I reflect on this, there are things I wonder about. And I wonder if this is my "anxiety" speaking or does anyone else feel like me.  Of course I would like to fit into a social circle (or few). I'm like that. My partner is not as concerned, but he also takes a longer time getting to know people and rightfully so, I can see how a group of us academics can bore him. And he's a computer programmer.. his computer is his friend.  I want to be seen as something special, a person people truly would like to hang out with. I want my kids to be seen the same, but the younger one is having some trouble in his behaviors lately.  I don't want to be lonely. I try to focus on what I do have. But sometimes it's not enough and I don't know long I can feel on the margins of a new town, that isn't always welcoming to a Yankee (and a feminist woman Yankee at that).  I've heard it gets better and I want to believe. And I am working on getting better with my own issues (ever heard about how stress can exacerbate mental health issues.... )

Back in the days that I spoke with a therapist, which I highly recommend for anyone (and if you didn't know therapists are supposed to talk with therapists)  and we talked about my feelings of being lonely but being tied down with two children, she suggested I invited people over. Well, let's think about this. Good idea, but bad idea. I was the person who was upset at my wedding because some folks couldn't get their drunk assess across town from the bar to our reception that had liquor at it.  So, yes, by all means I was happy with who came, but why didn't the other people. You see, I am that person. My partner can brush it off. I'm more of the sensitive one . I sense your feelings and am empathetic, but the spin on this is that yes, I know I am emotional.  So, I'm trying this strategy again here though I am embarrassed about our rental house (seriously, it's ugly and too small for our family) . It's worked a few times to have folks over, but when I try to invite the ones I really want to hang out with, it doesn't seem that it happens. And then I wonder why. It could be that they are truly busy and have not time. It could be that someone is allergic to our dogs. And maybe that's part of this.  Or some people can be a bit flighty and also overbook. But then I wonder and worry if it is because they don't really like me and don't want to tell me so. Which cycles and cycles in my head.  Because I am sensitive, do I scare you?  Or I think about what I might have done to make them mad. And this my fellow readers cycles in which anxiety and depression are linked. 

So how does this get back to this small town living idea? Did Simmel think about mental health and emotions?  Maybe... I didn't read much of his beyond my graduate theory course or when I've taught about him in different classes.  But where it does get back to the small town thing for me where faculty are close, I  worry about how I fit in,  who is my friend, and my support community. Second guessing is easy and hard for me to do; easy because I can do it second nature; hard because I know I shouldn't do it, but I feel the need to be prepared to be hurt.

There are only so many social circles to fit into here. I thought I was doing well. I thought I was doing good and bringing good vibes, despite the times I did break down. And my friends, there was a lot going on that I have not all wrote about here, from my own medical issues, to my partner thinking he was having a heart attack with a not so great family history that were/all part of the package of the time.

Is it because I have anxiety and depression I long for someone to invite me to do something? To be my friend? Is it because of being an only child? I won't know the answers and I know this, but sometimes I do want to know what "normal" thinking people feel about these things.  I've been coping at times by getting back into my work. Not as much the research, but that is next, and this is a large part of blogging again. Taking the time to think, reflect, and write.

Yes, I want someone to say to me "You are great!", "You are awesome!", "Please join us because you are a rock star." But I know as an adult and someone who has worked in mental health also, you can't get what you want from others. It starts with yourself. So, tell me readers, are any of my feelings normal?  Can I say publicly that I am sorry for who I am  at times? That I am sorry that I needed some extra support and it may have came out shitty. I am sorry. I like you all and hope we can be friends. Until then, I work on myself and have to be okay with feeling ups and downs through-ought each day  and hope I can heal, be better to myself and others, and find the energy that is bogging me down to write and to continue to do research.

My mind amazes me, but on the outside you may never know....

I have 10 minutes before I leave for campus for a meeting. I have attempted to write two different posts a few times this weekend. I couldn't do it. Why??? Writer's block? My mentality? Wait, they both link. My wonder if what I says matter? Yes, that too.

It's Monday. Though I don't teach, I'm behind. I am panicked about publications and research, but what's new. That's a lot of my own faulty. My 4 year old has been well, a 4 year old and by 8:30 am, I'm ready for a nap or wine already. I'm homesick for the friends that get me. I am homesick for my hometown I moved away from the age of 18. I am sad  that my kids rarely see their grandparents. I feel guilt I brought my family to this place, even though I love my job. I am lonely, sans my ultimate friend I have made here who feels like we have known each for other. I am tired. I don't want to sell any more girl scout cookies. I want to take a day, sit outside, write to myself, and write and revise an article. But that's not going to happen. We are looking at a really cheap house. That's exciting and scary. My neighbor still freaks me out now. I miss the dog we watched over the weekend.

My mind... It thinks too much. Too much that I have a hard time articulating a thought. Some think I can't think or speak, but you don't know... my mind is complex. My mind is analytical. My mind tricks me. My mind amazes me, but on the outside you may never know....

Chances to Write and Speak

I have two thoughts on my mind this morning about writing and speaking. I had volunteered if needed and thus was asked to speak at my church, a UU one, in March.  Members and outside folks often speak during services. But what am I going to talk about? I can talk about anything.  Thoughts on topics include:
a) Do I take the risk and talk about mental health and my story? The rationale is to remove stigma and barriers associated with mental health and be a role model for those who struggle silently. But, what are the possible consequences? How much do I want to expose? How will people see me?
b) Do I use this as a time to talk about my future research on mental health during pregnancy? I have not collected data yet, but have read enough and lived through the experience. Would the membership find it interesting to talk about the cultural mandates of motherhood? Can I tie this into being more loving and accepting of others and ourselves? Would this open up research opportunities and collaborations?
c) I have thought about talking about ally development, especially in a very accepting church, but one in which members may believe since they are UU folks, they are not racist, homophobic, etc... But as we know, microagressions occur daily and ally development is a process. If I go this route do I talk about theories on ally development? Bring in my work when I interned at a GLBTA office on a university campus, which was an eye opening experience of how little I knew about issues that folks who identify as trans experience?

I am exited about this opportunity and need to make a decision soon.

My second thought is that a call went out for a sociology journal that is doing something different in seeming to promote public sociology or a different type of sociology than traditionally published in journals. I asked two local groups of people if they were interested in writing.
I asked a group of students who have spoken of their lives. Many of them are African American women who live in the Deep South and experience racism and the intersection of gender and race in their daily lives. Would they want to talk about their stories? How can I contribute to this piece?
I also asked my Reverend, who has lived here all her life, and another student who was just ordained as a minister in a more conservative church, but has done so much work with immigration reform here.
But the idea of working with students, collaborating on writing a piece excites me! It may not get published, but it's a start. 

Is it Sociological?

I have 15 minutes to write a post before church this morning. I have neglected writing in general and this blog. But after having attended a roundtable at a feminist sociological meeting a few weeks ago about blogging, there is no motivation. Yet, I question, per a discussion on our collective idea of a sociology blog spot, if my blog is "sociological."  And during a time of transition, a time of creeping anxiety, and still in that first year of the tenure track job, I question a lot about myself lately. So, alas I write.

Is this blog sociological? I don't write like other bloggers, connecting and linking to stories on the web or citing evidence from published research. I enjoy those blogs, but that was not my intent. Maybe I could do this to move forward in  my own research agenda. But should it be on this blog or a new one devoted just to that agenda?

Yet, I am a sociologist and I think like a sociologist, even when I have on my social worker practice hat on. I see my life through a sociological lens. As a feminist sociologist, I have pushed my students to see their own experiences and life as meaningful and things that matter. Feminists have pushed us to accept personal narratives. No, I'm trying to make grand generalizations in this blog, nor do I point out my analytical frameworks. Yet again, as a sociologist trained to be analytical, it seems to be this way in a different way.

And my life right now is ripe with sociological relevant topics. A move from a metro area in the North to life in a small town in the Deep South. A new tenure track job after years of working as an adjunct, applied work, a PhD, and MSW. A parent. A co-parent. A spouse. A working parent. A gendered parent. Learning to be an activist where I am an outsider. A pro-choice liberal in the Deep South. Transitions. Culture. Guilt. Emotions. Emotional labor. Children learning Southern dialect. A co-leader for a troop in a Girls' organizaton.

This is all sociological. And to me it's feminist. It's also healing. It's communication and expression of what I cannot say. It's the uncovering of "hidden" disabilities. It's a take on sociology sometimes for not paying attention to some issues or ignoring experience to debate etiology.

Is this is interesting? I don't know. That's for a reader to decide.  For now this is my post this morning in mid-February.