Shakespeare in the Arb

Somehow, the pace of life has not yet returned to normal! This week we've been frantically unpacking and settling into our place together, frantically making all the arrangements for the honeymoon, and frantically trying to write my conference paper for the end of the month. But last night we took a break to see a performance of "Much Ado about Nothing" in Nichols Arboretum, a huge and beautiful nature preserve running alongside the Huron River in Ann Arbor. I've been wanting to see a performance of "Shakespeare in the Arb" for years now, but I always seem to be out of town in June. This is presumably my last summer in Ann Arbor, and moreover, my good friend Brianne was part of the cast!

It was a cool and cloudy evening, but still pleasant for enjoying the show. The performance was mobile – at the close of certain scenes and acts, we all got up, picked up our chairs and blankets, and followed a woman bearing a flag to the next stop. Unusual, but also novel and lively!

Sarah and John joined us. Relaxing on our picnic blanket at the start of the show:

My conference paper remains unfinished (and I depart for NYC tomorrow), but I'm glad we went. I've become so accustomed to worrying constantly about my to-do list and my productivity level, and I want to get out of that habit. Life is short, let's enjoy some moments together, right?

local "landmarks"

Since I returned from New York/Philly on Sunday night, I've been occupied with moving from my apartment into Dave's place. It's just across town, and I have a car, so I've been able to make many trips with my trusty Camry. But once I live in Dave's (our!) place, I won't be running on the same paths anymore. Here are two of my favorite "landmarks" on my route to the Huron River:

 

I've never understood what this sign means: "Hippies Use Backdoor: No Exceptions." Is this supposed to be insulting to hippies? Or is it positive, that some secret exchange can occur at the backdoor that only hippies have access to?

I will also miss being close to this banana stand (if that is, indeed, what it is). It's out there year-round, but I've never seen anyone manning it. This seems as good a time as any for an Arrested Development gif:

Graduation

I finally did it! After seven years of school, I walked in my graduation, way back on May 3rd. I was surprised by how emotional I felt. In my department, graduation is generally pooh-poohed. Although four people in Archaeology walked, I was the only representative from Classical Studies. Here I am freshly hooded and diploma-ed:

I got to shake hands with President Mary Sue Coleman, my first time meeting her!

The last person to receive a degree was this elderly man who needed help getting out of his seat, up the ramp, and across the stage. He received a PhD in Chemistry, a standing ovation from the audience, and a bear hug from Mary Sue (zeugma, anyone?). I don't know what his story is, but I felt so moved. In my department, if we had to fill in the blank in the phrase "my ___________ PhD," we would all pick the same modifier, "my worthless PhD." It's almost as consistent a pairing as "hardy mums." And yet here was an old man who clearly DID think there was worth to his degree, and never gave up until he achieved it!

The whole Lu clan came to town to celebrate:

 

Proud parents

 

Big brothers

New additions

 Where I get my "famous" sense of humor

The one who dries my PhD-induced tears

We had gorgeous weather the whole weekend! We visited nearby Chelsea, shared dinner with my advisors, played in the park, and walked around town. It was actually really nice to mark the close of these years, my life in Michigan, and my formal education (let's hope!).

someone call a copy editor, please

Has anyone else noticed that the copy editing at the New York Times has become dreadful? I know we're all living in an age of the 24-hours news cycle, etc. etc., and that the constant updating of the webpage almost guarantees typographic errors (as well as errors in reporting and sourcing, but that's a topic for another time). This irks me frequently, but tonight reached a new low.

Sure, I'm not the biggest sports fan at UM, but Dave and I actually made the effort to watch the game tonight – the men's basketball national championship. We don't have TV, so we went to a pub with a friend and actually bought drinks and watched our team lose to Louisville. No amount of my encouraging ("More points, guys, MORE POINTS") or hectoring ("Rebounds are IMPORTANT") seemed to make a difference. I returned home to grade papers, which never puts me in a good mood anyway. So I was particularly annoyed to see the caption below this picture:

That's right, jubilant Louisville players in their red uniforms, accompanied by an erroneous caption that mocks our pain. No, Michigan did not defeat Louisville, 82-76, as the line directly below the caption indicates. This is a fact. But thanks for suggesting the idea. Get it right, folks.

Deposit

The completion of my Ph.D. has not exactly been the triumphant march I had expected. My dissertation defense was remarkably anti-climactic, and it doesn't help that I took a good four months to finish my revisions and deposit the final copy with the University. At least I had good reasons for being busy in January, February, and March! As I was frantically finishing revisions last week, I ran into a committee member in the hall who teased me, "What, you're still here?" Yes, I am still here. As much as I've tried to think of myself as "done" with UM and prepared to be faculty elsewhere, it turns out that a number of checklist items remain to be accomplished. My relationship with UM, it seems, will peter out in dribs and drabs over the next month or so.

I went to my final post-defense meeting at the Graduate School today. The administrator handed me a piece of paper with a URL on it; I used my own laptop to upload a PDF of my dissertation and a copy of my abstract. She opened the file on her own computer, checked it over for formatting, and printed out a certificate for me. Then it was over. That's it? This time, I didn't even get the satisfying feeling of thumping a large stack of paper down on the desk.

See the shiny gold sticker at the bottom? It arouses such conflicting feelings in me. On the one hand: shiny gold sticker! I LOVE IT. On the other: seven years of labor for a stupid sticker? When will I learn to stop caring about the shiny gold stickers??

Milhaud's L'Orestie

Tonight is my last choral performance in Ann Arbor. For the past several years, I've been singing with the UMS Choral Union, a large community group that is probably best-known for annual concerts of Handel's Messiah and performances with the Detroit Symphony Orchestra. There have been wonderful experiences – being part of Leonard Slatkin's debut as principal conductor of the DSO (Carmina Burana), singing Mozart's and Verdi's and Brahms' Requiem, performing On the Transmigration of Souls under the baton of John Adams himself – and plenty of frustrations. I'm assuming that I won't be singing in a regular capacity next year, what with the awkward transition to New York and getting settled into the new job. So I want to go out with a bang tonight!

Tonight's performance is intellectually interesting to me. It's an operatic version of Aeschylus' trilogy of tragedies that we call the Oresteia. It was composed by Darius Milhaud, a friend of Stravinksy's, in Paris between 1913-1927. This is the first full performance of the full cycle outside of Europe and will be recorded live for commercial release by Naxos. Some of Milhaud's choices I love (Athena is played by a trio of women, so there's always a halo of sound around her words); some I find baffling (when L'Agamemnon begins, Clytemnestra has already killed Agamemnon).

This piece is hard. The French moves quickly, the intervals are challenging, and even when we get it right, it sounds weird. And the pressure's really on! Milhaud's son has come to Ann Arbor for the show, and whatever we can't get right will be immortalized on the recording. The last time this group of choirs/orchestra/conductors were recorded by Naxos for a different project, in 2005, they won four (obscure) Grammy awards! Hopes were high for this project as well, I think, until rehearsals this week began. Not to put too fine a point on it, we were unprepared, and everyone became discouraged. We've redoubled our efforts, so I hope it goes well tonight. Wish us luck!

Winter is here

The Michigan winter can be brutal, and we've been very fortunate the past two years, when we enjoyed mild weather. So far, the winter hasn't been too bad, but since returning from Christmas break, I've definitely felt a shift in temperature! We're now past the stage of cute hats and cozy sweaters. This is real winter. Some signs:

-my doormat is covered with a variety of slushy boots
-white salty streaks magically appear on all of my clothes
-I can hear the disconcerting whirr of cars' spinning wheels on the streets below from my desk
-I have ice on the interior of my car's windshield from the frozen condensation of my breath
-I'm getting reacquainted with my car's low-gear setting

Dave always says that the harsh winter provides incentive to get a lot of work done. So I'll make some hot chocolate and settle in to do some serious interview research. Stay warm, everyone!

you can call me doctor (but not *that* kind of doctor)

It's official: I defended my dissertation on Friday morning! Though I still need to deposit a final version in January and graduate in May, I can start calling myself Doctor. But to distinguish myself from my father and brother(s), I've decided I should be:

Dave had these balloons and flowers waiting for me in my apartment when I returned home after the defense! He is so thoughtful. =)


But I get ahead of myself. The defense itself was quite different from what I had expected. I had stayed up late the night before, cursing myself for not having reviewed the fragments of lost archaic epics about Heracles or including certain works on my bibliography. The morning of, I frantically repeated my various spiels to myself as I walked to the department, and almost got hit by careless drivers – twice! The gods were not looking favorably upon me. The four members of my committee met without me for the first fifteen minutes, to determine the shape of the defense, while I paced the hallway in my clicking heels. The committee invited me into the room, and my advisor immediately put me at ease by opening with, "We'd like to discuss how to turn this dissertation into the book." VICTORY!

The next hour and fifteen minutes were devoted to pushing and pulling at my ideas in the dissertation. The committee suggested that I combine two analyses into one, pointed out weaknesses in my discussions, and helped me think through how I will reframe the study for the future (think: violence theory). I won't pretend that I was comfortable, but there's something deeply enjoyable about having four terrific scholars arguing about your work with you. The discussion descended into complaints about certain aspects of the administration of the graduate program, at which point I think the defense was over. ;) The committee shooed me away, and I clicked through the halls again. This time, they invited me back into the room with smiles and handshakes and congratulations. Everyone was packing up to leave, so I had to whisper to my advisor: "Ummm, are we going to talk about revisions?" She said she'd email the committee's comments to me, but that she expects them to be "modest." RELIEF.

I still don't truly believe that I've complete the dissertation and will receive my PhD from this program. There were just so many times over the years when I truly, deeply believed that I should withdraw and find something else to do. But here I am, with a dissertation one of my advisors even said I "should be very proud of." He has never said anything of the sort to me before, so maybe he even meant it! I feel intensely grateful for so many things. My support group has always been there for me – my family and dear friends, who have heard me agonize and cry and despair so many times, and always reassured me that things will work out. Without Dave, I'm not sure I would've made it this far; he always gives me courage and steadiness for the task at hand.

But these things come as no surprise. What does surprise me is the appreciation I felt for my committee and department: scholars who have (loosely) shepherded and guided me from a barely-not-an-undergraduate to someone who could be an assistant professor at a major research institution. I may never become that assistant professor, of course, depending on the job market, but I'm still a bit in shock that the possibility is there. It's also strange to realize that my time at this institution is likely drawing to a close, and I must be ready to move on. To that end, I better get back to grading these final exams and preparing for my job interviews...

a surprise guest

I have an unexpected overnight guest tonight. Dear friends, meet "Cat":

"Cat" was wandering outside my apartment building. It is the coldest night of the year so far – windy, rainy. "Cat" looked miserable! "Cat" also is de-clawed, well-groomed, obviously unafraid of people. "Cat" even has a tag with a Michigan Humane Society ID number on it. After she was meowing plaintively and trying to follow me inside my door, how could I turn her away?

As a side note, a cyclist was hit by a car outside my window just two nights ago, occasioning my very first 911 call. (It took 90 seconds for the dispatcher to pick up, which does not inspire confidence for the future.) The motorists stopped their car and immediately got out to help, but it didn't look great: the cyclist lay in the crosswalk until the ambulance, police, and firemen carted her away. I've been feeling nervous about crossing the street ever since! And no one likes to see household pets flattened on the pavement...

So "Cat" is spending the night with me, until I can drop her off at the Humane Society in the morning. With the help of her ID, the Humane Society should be able to match her with her proper owners. In the meantime, I'll try to enjoy the company. Dave is allergic to cats, so this might be my only chance!

I warned "Cat" not to get too comfortable, but she seems strangely unperturbed:

Goodnight, "Cat"! Please try to relieve yourself in the makeshift litterbox I put together for you with dirt and mulch I stole from the planters outside.

Public Humanities Institute

This week, I've been a member of the Public Humanities Institute, an intensive seminar hosted by the Arts of Citizenship initiative. The goal was to provide professional development for graduate students in the Humanities with an interest in public engagement. To be honest, I was a little worried that it would be a couple days of talking about our feelings, feeling things together, and then disbanding into the mist. Fortunately, I found the experience intensely stimulating, and I found myself asking questions of myself that I had neglected for a long time.

I was one of ten graduate students, mostly doctoral students, with an MFA and a MSI student thrown in the mix. The schedule for our week was quite varied. A sampling: we read academic articles about community-oriented scholarship (like getting a class involved in a theater project in Detroit), visited public arts sites in Flint, interacted with panels of current academics whose work engages the public, saw the Arab American National Museum in Dearborn, and toured urban farming sites in Detroit. Today, the mayor of Hamtramck, a city within Detroit beset recently by financial problems, came to visit us today; she brought three scenarios of current conflict in her community, and we brainstormed processes and ideas to work towards a solution.

Dome in lobby of Arab American National Museum

 Detroit's famed Eastern Market (farmer's market)

 Corned Beef Specialist? Yes, please!

 The Heidelberg Project

 Cesar Chavez mural in Mexicantown

My research usually consists of typing alone in a room with books, so it was really eye-opening for me to learn about scholars whose academic work involves interacting with living people. The diversity of projects that fall under the heading of "public scholarship" is impressive, and it's exciting to think that I could be a part of the group that helps shape its form in the future. But I still feel uncertain about how I, as a scholar of classical Greek mythology and literature, can use my skill sets and expertise to engage with community partners far outside the bounds of the traditional university. For example, we met with a theater professor who, in response to the proliferation of arson in Flint, collected eyewitness oral histories from around the city with his students, and turned those words into a play performed throughout the community. Pretty cool, right? But how on earth can I do something like that?

And so there was something distinctly discouraging about the seminar. Most of the examples we saw were visual art or performance-oriented, which Classics/literature do not easily translate into (unless I restrict myself to tragedy, which I wouldn't necessarily mind). My scholarly work is based on the reading of Latin and Greek, an obvious obstacle to sharing with others. More importantly, I still do not see a path in which a community-based project based around, say, reading an abridged version of the Ajax with a volunteer group at the Depression Center would be taken seriously by my peers as scholarship, much less count towards, e.g., tenure requirements. In fact, it may count against me, by openly busying myself with "distractions" from my "real" work instead of developing and publishing (for a tiny audience) new interpretations of Greek literature. There are dangers to being on the cutting edge.

I'm not sure where to go from here. After meeting these amazing people who manage to align their social goals with their career, I feel guilty for thinking, "not now, maybe next term, when my dissertation is done and my job applications are in." I'm also still working out for myself what publicly-engaged scholarship in my specific field looks like. Is it reading the Iliad and analyzing Achilles with youths in juvenile detention? Is it going into local public schools and talking about graduate school? Reading the Heroides at a women's shelter? Okay...scrap that last idea. There are a lot of ways to go wrong here, and one of the things that I loved about the Public Humanities Institute is that everyone was very open about the ways in which scholars can fail. Sometimes the projects never get off the ground, or the community is incredibly offended by students' attitudes towards them, or the partnership isn't sustainable and it all just melts away, leaving distrust and suspicion behind.

But I hope to carry the struggle with me. We participated in several corny self-examination exercises, and though I usually loathe that sort of thing, I found these incredibly effective. One thing that came out, on the first day, was that I had forgotten my own story. Remember when I went to Uganda for 3 months and came back and planned a career in sustainable development? Maybe in public health or public policy? Because I thought I should use my brains and education to enact concrete good for people in the world? Remember when I worked to eliminate the achievement gap in American public schools? Remember when I said that going to graduate school wouldn't necessarily change me, but that I could find a way to satisfy both my love of Classics and desire to help people? Do you remember? Because I apparently forgot! Thanks, graduate school. The rest of the week has therefore been a deeply emotional experience for me, a kind of professional (and let's face it, personal) identity crisis. We'll see how things shake out in the next few weeks – I fully expect to immerse myself in the same work I'd been doing on Monday and continue to press forward towards finishing the diss and securing employment. But maybe a dormant seed is being nurtured again, and you'll start hearing about entirely different sorts of projects for me! If you have any ideas or suggestions, I'm certainly all ears.

Le Tour de Washtenaw County

Today was the start of a new adventure: riding a bicycle! Yes, I learned to ride a bike as a child. But it's been a long time since I've "gone for a ride" for pleasure – fifteen years, in fact. The Fat and I had decided to go out on our bikes that fateful day long ago, and while we were passing through a nearby neighborhood, a car passed me on the left. I was so startled that I promptly drove my bike into the curb and flew off into the grass. No real harm done, but I was shaken by my own incompetence, and the Fat swore never to take me riding again! I acquired a few unrelated concussions in high school, so after that, we all decided it was best for me to stick to my own two feet as much as possible.

Dave enjoys cycling, though, and starting suggesting I join him a couple summers ago. Recently, the stars began to align: he acquired a new speedy road bike from my friend last week, so now he had two bikes in his possession – perfect for riding together! I decided that if I were going to get used to bicycling again, Ann Arbor is a good place to start: it has an extensive network of bike paths that are separated and protected from car traffic, and most of these routes are quite scenic. I got a new helmet a few days ago, so we were all set!

Here we go:

Today, we went for a short and gentle ride along the Huron River, made even shorter by the fact that I got a flat tire at our destination, an old historic mill. However, I did not crash the bike into a wall, or another person, and I did not fall off even a little along the way...SUCCESS!

Places Not to Visit in Michigan

It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw, I've gone to look for America...  (Simon and Garfunkel, "America")

Dave and I love to mindlessly cheer when we hear those lines. After all, we've passed by highway exit signs for Saginaw many times! We decided to make our false identification with the Michigan town more authentic by actually going there this weekend. Big mistake. I'm here now to tell you all: do not go to visit Saginaw, or probably any place in the Thumb.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. There were actually some nice spots in the town. We first visited the Castle Museum, formerly the Saginaw Post Office.

Beautiful building, from the 1890s. It currently hosts the Saginaw County Historical Museum, which was surprisingly contemporary, well-curated, and informative. We learned about the area's history with the lumber industry, then the manufacturing and automotive industry, and now the misery industry. It's located in the "business district," which is a misleading name. This is what the view across the street from the Museum looks like:

The beautiful weather might deceive you; this scene was absolutely desolate. Every building in the picture is empty, with the exception of the building on the far left, the Social Security Administration. There was not a single business in sight! No people either. Very post-apocalyptic.

I got scared, so we high-tailed it across town to the Children's Zoo. For a depressed, small-town zoo, it was pretty charming! Heavy emphasis on local farm animals over exotic big game, but that's fine. Here are some highlights:

 The Chicken House was playing an episode of "Reading Rainbow" on loop. LeVar is about to ask a bunch of hens, "Which came first?"

 This tortoise was desperately trying to escape. It was very sad.

 

 This joey is unimpressed by my imitation.

 There was a section of the zoo best-described as "petting zoo, if you can reach them." I've been longing for years to pet a Flemish Giant Rabbit, but alas, it was not to be this day.

We headed further up the road to Bay City, so we could go to the beach! Let me preface by first saying, Michigan has some absolutely stunning, gorgeous, write-home-about beaches. This beach was not one of them:

Note the charming factory not too far down the shore and the "beach muck," which a very small notice warned us was the result of algae bloom, and has tested positive for fecal matter and E. coli. I put my shoes back on. The notice was so small and full of text, I'm sure no one else read it. Public Health Fail.

Scared again, we turned around and got on the highway as soon as possible. We ended up in the "Little Bavaria of Michigan," the town of Frankenmuth.

While I usually consider myself far too cosmopolitan to enjoy this kind of kitsch, I must admit: at least it felt...safe?

Now I can say that I finally understand the Simon and Garfunkel song: yes, it is absolutely worth hitchhiking for four days out of Saginaw, even if the destination is the New Jersey Turnpike.

View Ann Arbor, MI in a larger map

Ann Arbor Whimsy

There's a lot of deliberate whimsy in this town. For example, there are tiny little fairy doors located around downtown, and I often see families with young children spending an afternoon trying to find them all; it's a kind of treasure hunt that leads them to walk around and explore local businesses. I guess it's cute.

 I studied next to this fairy door this afternoon, and tried to be normal to the three families that stopped by.

But I found something yesterday that I think is funnier. Ann Arbor really revels in its historicity (never mind the fact that it's not exactly Boston, much less Rome). Just between my apartment and the bank, one can observe three types of didactic signs! There's the difficult-to-read transparent pictures on the sidewalk:

Solid signs on building:

And official-looking placards:

They're usually very boring and not very informative at all. Maybe that's why I've walked by this unassuming doorway (with placard to the left of it) hundreds of times without stopping to examine more closely.

 

Here's the close up: 

Haha! Who paid money to install this silly sign in public? I would like to be his or her friend.