My Turn on the Bus

Oh. Boy. Today was a doozy.

Have I taken on too much?

Today is not the best day for me to ask that question.

While I Was Away

I always think that Warren Buffet speaks such good sense. This time is no exception.

Emotional Posting

My previous comments about Utah and my vacation were a bit jumbled. Visiting my family in Utah does make me feel conflicted, though I think I came across in a couple of ways that weren't intended. I will try to clarify here a bit, though without specifics, it may be hard.

First of all, we have no current intention to move. My thoughts are for the long term. In a year I have an adjustable rate mortgage that will need attention; in two years I will have a variety of employment options and all of my kids in school all day; I will also have a child entering middle school. In the current economy it is hard to say if thinking ahead is helpful . . . or just frusturating. If we want to make life changes then two years from now is a great time to do it. The question is whether or not that move will be to a house down the street with a laundry room that doesn't double as a garage, or if that move will be a major life change.

Mike's late comments on the post were well-taken. Of course making a decision to stay or go doesn't mean more or different revelation won't come later. However, as I have gotten more settled in our current community, and ponder on my own growing up, I have begun to feel strongly that there are very real merits to putting down roots. And yes, the blog is still going to be titled "Nomad." A person might relieve restlessness in a lot of ways that don't involve renting a moving van. I finished Little Women; Jo ultimately started a school. Hm . . . .

Mike's comments were further noted: I agree absolutely that a righteous family can be raised anywhere. And so can an unrighteous family. I also recognize that even doing your best and being very committed as parents still won't take away kids' choices. I was misunderstood in my previous post if I seemed to be saying that all Utah Mormons are a certain way. I certainly don't believe that, and I willingly admit that I am largely a product of a small-town Utah background. I do think, however, compared to where I have been living, and feel very comfortable living, the outward trappings of success and properity in Utah are so apparent. Coming from a state with some deep economic depression to a place that changes dramatically every time I come (more businesses, homes creeping further and further up the hills . . .) is, quite truthfully, overwhelming.

And there are some very good-looking people in my parents' ward. And my parents live in an affluent area. And there are some incredibly righteous people in my parents' ward. Many of them are the same people. Many of them have had deep and difficult trials--they just don't happen to be things that show up when you are looking at their lovely faces and homes. Based on the friends I have had over the years, I can't really have any other opinion. I do apologize if I came across otherwise.

I know that if we stay in Oregon we will sacrifice some of of the loveliest things about my own childhood, but we will have other opportunities. I guess. Those things are unknown. I am not sure if it takes courage to strike out on a new path, or if I'm just avoiding the going back to Utah thing because being there makes me remember things that I have long tried to put behind me. Maybe staying away is just running.

So here is my short list of things I do really love/like about Utah. I can be reasonable.

1. The view from my mother's deck. When the air quality is good (half the time?) you can see 20 miles.

2. The radio station 101.9 The End. Nobody else has one like it. I heard new songs from bands I didn't think existed any longer.

3. The accent. It is just so funny. When I miss it I can just tune into RS or Young Women's General Conference.

4. A church on ever corner. My kids get a kick out of counting them.

5. There are just so many temples. *sigh*

6. Logan. I could do a whole post on what I love about Logan. Oh, wait, I have. What a glorious couple of days of true homecoming I had there.

7. The local high school and its unchanging rhythms--two a day football practice, early morning range, the teacher parking lot filling up before school begins next week, the red and black tee-shirts in the local grocery store.

8. Seeing people I know almost every where I go.

9. Wards and primaries chock-a-block full of people.

10. Aggie Ice Cream, turkey steaks, Creamies . . . you know, the food you can only get in Utah. Don't miss the Jell-o so much. (My sister brought "Y" shaped jigglers to the family party.)

11. Family parties following a day on Dad's boat.

All wasn't well this time. There was a degree of drama that threatened to overwhelm everyone. I was glad to be able to walk away, but feel guilty for not being there at the same time. Conflict, conflict, conflict. . . . maybe it isn't Utah. Maybe it is family. Maybe it is me.

The Help

More on my Utah trip later, but this is just a quick note to tell you that you must go see The Help. Tonight if possible.

Sunset

I find myself terribly discontent when I visit "home." Utah, that is. I'm not sure why. I can never decide if it is that I still miss this place that really is home to me in many ways, or if I wish to move back here to see family more often so that we don't feel like such outsiders when we come. Or is it that the houses are bigger, the hair bleachier and the women prettier? Maybe the discontent stems less from a desire to come to "Zion" and more from the overwhelming feeling of being unsuccessful, at least by a certain standard. After church today, Plantboy, one of the best-looking men I've ever met, said, "I don't think we are good-looking enough to live in Utah."

Whatever it is, this vacation has not been revitalizing in the least. I have loved seeing so much family, but we've been non-stop in the car for three days and really aren't done yet. The longer we stay away from family, however, the stronger the sense of being an outsider fills me. Yet, at the same time, I cannot shake the solid truth that this community in which my parents have been a part for 40 years helped to form exactly the person I have become.

The mission for which I departed 15 years ago today is largely responsible too.

I think the mission might be part of the conflict. For twenty-one years I lived in the same community, surrounded by people who did the same. Even at college I was close to my extended family. Generation after generation with little alteration from the ones before. I suppose that I expected to do the same. Settle close to parents. Visit on Sundays. Have my own children grow up around their cousins doing the things that kids in a certain social strata are expected to do. Dance lessons. Sports. Church. I suppose. Though I think even from a young age I felt vaguely dissatisfied and restless with the cliche.

Enter Australia.

Exit a woman no longer content with the ordinary.

In the next few years it will be important for us to make some decisions because Jedi Knight is getting older, and if Utah has taught me anything this time around, it is that putting down some roots is important. Will we stay put, accepting the economic downturn and the spiritual knowledge given to Plantboy just a few weeks before taking his job in Eugene that the Church in Oregon needed us? Will we trust the Lord enough that our unique little boys will be able to make it in schools where there are the merest handful of LDS kids? Am I willing to sacrifice the kind of childhood I had for one of greater opposition that might make them powerful men? Or will we move closer to family for an idyllic support system that might only be in my head? Will we start over again, economically speaking, in our forties, and be strong enough not to care that we live in a small house that is decidedly in the valley and not on the hill? Do we move where there are more members of the church so that we can slip into blissful anonymity because couples like us abound? Do we stay put because we have a much greater capacity to serve where we are?

I feel so weak right now, and not at all up to the task of navigating my dear little mannies through the next phase we are now entering. But I have to be. There is no one else.

Tonight I was driving straight west from my brother's house to get back to my parents' house when I saw the most gorgeous sunset I've seen for years. My emotions were full as I looked at the scene. My heart was touched at the impression of the Spirit reminding me that God loves me immensely, but that most of my own human accomplishments will be weak and frail compared to what God can do. I felt enormously loved and properly humbled at the same time.

O God, Thou hast always shown us the way forward now. Please see fit to do so again. And if it is the direction I begin to think it will be, then please, O Lord, grant us the strength to hold our family together and to sacrifice cheerfully whatever Thou asks.

Little Women

I love how the girls in Little Women patiently submit to their lots in life with zest, enthusiasm and obedience. Trials stemming from rebelliousness are temporary and soon ended with a kind word from "Marmee."

There should be a personality test for women in which you are identified as a Meg (bustling, domestic, motherly, likes nice things but is willing to sacrifice, proper, musical); a Jo (rebellious, rough, tomboy, restless, literary, unconventional); a Beth (charitable to a fault, kind always, still, faithful, also musical) or an Amy (elegant, tactful, artistic, the center of her social circle).

I've always most identified with Jo, though in some ways the above description isn't necessarily self-fitting. On a recent reading, Jo's main character trait that stands out to me is her restlessness. What suspends belief is that when she is married and more or less settled with her old professor and a houseful of boys is that all restlessness ends for her: maybe the houseful of boys was enough movement for her. Or not. Alcott herself was pretty much Jo, though she never married. The last chapter of her novel reads like her own castle in the air that isn't really grounded in reality. I can almost see Alcott in the garrett of smallish home, writing her prose and pining away for a man who would never come. Her father was a great friend to Thoreau: perhaps he was her ideal man in the way the professor was to Jo.

I am very restless this week. As we plan our annual pilgrimage to Utah, during which Plantboy and Jedi Knight are going to take an awesome canoeing trip, I cannot help but think that women spend a lot of time standing still while men get to move. And I am still having trouble learning to be still. I know that some of it is situational--my kids are still quite young--but it doesn't change things a whole lot. And we train them from a very young age to think this way: our girls go to Girl's Camp for long afternoons of crafts, a few water games, lots of cooking lessons and touchy-feely self-esteem boosting type activities. The teenage boys? They left this morning for a 50 mile backpack trip this week. In my mind it should be pretty clear which type of activity is more character-building, and yet we persist in defining kids almost wholly by their sex.

Oh, I am so restless. Graduate school this summer was very easy as I took an introduction class. Maybe as the challenges arise in the fall I won't feel like my spirit is trying to crawl out of my skin.

Thinking Before I Speak. Novel. I Know.

Remember the good old days of journaling? Okay, so some of you are awesome and you STILL journal, but I gave it up for blogging. (Not to be confused with Lent.) My journals are filled with some good stuff, but it is mostly incoherent rambling. I used my journal to sort out thinking that I either couldn't share with others or still wasn't sure of myself. Unfortunately, in that medium, I seldom got back around to clarifying my thoughts when solutions presented themselves. My entries from my teen years, in particular, make it plain that I was the most depressed person who ever lived. I guess I only wrote on the hard days.

Blogging has been different. When I write longer pieces here, I often will take some days to organize my thoughts about something I have seen or experienced, and then attempt to present those thoughts in a cohesive essay. Generally, what you see is the result of something I have spent time puzzling through and on which I have formed an opinion.

And then I write a piece like 'Cause I'm a Woman, filled with opinions that were probably not very well-considered before just throwing them up there. Thirteen articulate opinions were elucidated in a blog post that became a very important conversation. Your perspective-laden comments, in conjunction with a letter-only friend sending me a copy of an editorial response to a Republican Senator's complaint about "degrees to nowhere," has given me much to think about in the last couple of weeks. My thinking is now clarified, and unlike my journaling of old, I am going to take the time to complete my thoughts. (And in an unrelated note: I hyphenated three phrases in this last paragraph. It is probably because my vocabulary isn't large enough to supply better words!)

I do stand by some opinions, but others have been softened. Caitlin made an excellent point about motherhood being "life-altering." And in the case of (at least) Caitlin and Karin, motherhood has come with unexpected challenges that have erased the possibility of ever having an "empty nest." For them, motherhood is not a detour from another life (the way I too often view it), it is the only path. Each of these women are brilliant and might have done anything with their years on earth . . . indeed each might have had a very different dreams once upon a time. Instead, each has been blessed with a sweet little daughter who will never come to a place she doesn't need her mother. The conversation I attempted to initiate with my talk of paychecks and giving back to society is practically an insult to the remarkable work these two lovely women and countless others like them do every day.

A woman embarking on the medical school trajectory doesn't know how she will react to motherhood until it happens. I have three close friends from my growing up years who became doctors. An optometrist, dentist and dermatologist. They have four, three and two kids respectively. They have found ways to balance work and family through a variety of methods. They have made sacrifices that I wasn't/wouldn't be willing to make. The point, however, is that those sacrifices are THEIRS. It doesn't matter what I think of it, nor is it my business to sit in judgment of their choices. It is funny how I keep forgetting that.

As for the public college thing . . . it seems I'm not the only one having this debate. As the school accountability movement continues to gain momentum, many eager politicians have suggested that higher universities seeking accreditation and/or public funding should have to prove that their graduates are working. After all, many go to college with the expectation that there will be employment opportunities on the other side. While I think my statements in the earlier post (basically amounting to the idea that without the intent to work then there was no point in attending college) were off-base, I don't think it is unreasonable to ask yourself or your children what the purposes are for attending college (their might be many, not all of which are academic), which college or university is the best value for meeting those purposes, and how that education is to be paid for in the short and long term. Women especially need to be candid with themselves about "plan A" and "plan B" insofar as those terms are at all descriptive.

There was quote in my planner yesterday that read, "A liberal arts education is supposed to provide you with a value system, a standard, a set of ideas, not a job." I really like that quote, and I think I agree. Some things are inherently valuable, even if they don't turn into some arbitrary definition of "net-worth." The problem is that the liberal arts education still comes with a price tag, even if you can't easily measure its value or gain a return on it. If your dreams aren't tempered with a degree of practicality, then they are unachievable wishes or can eventually turn into nightmares.

As to the idea of shared public resources--my own mode of expression may have been over the top, but I think there are legitimate concerns to be spoken of here. In an era of fiscally (and morally) bankrupt government, it is necessary to ask hard questions about what exactly the government's responsibilities are. And what is the cost of that responsibility? To what degree is education an investment? A public service? How do we measure success in public education at every level?

I've also come to a deep realization the last few weeks that much of our self-reliance is an illusion. Oh, we might pay our own bills and have our food saved up for a year and store hundreds of gallons of water under the bunkbeds . . . . but our ability to truly live on our own is very limited. I listened to an interview with man named Russel Fox. He is a professor of political science at a university somewhere in Midwest. He is also LDS. He subscribes to a political philosophy called Communitarianism, which I find totally fascinating. The philosophy is that classic liberalism (i.e. individual freedom supersedes everything) is mostly impossible to achieve and ultimately leads to a broken and uncivil society. If individuals don't agree to give up some freedoms in return for the broader success of the group as a whole, then everything eventually collapses, or reverts to a state of oligarchy in which the privileged few are the only ones who actually have any freedom or power. He cites the Declaration of Independence as an example. While it begins with the words about individual have a right to "life, liberty and pursuit of happiness," the grievances in the document are all collective and perhaps the most powerful route to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for everyone is only through a recognition that we are all in this together.

He talked about the idea of "owning your home." Such a thing is only possible because a bank is willing to back you, because the public as a whole puts money into that bank that can in turn be lent, because the government backs the bank so that people will trust it enough to put their money in it. Your insurance on the home is possible because so many people pay into the system. Unless you are one of those rare folks off the grid, living in that house is comfortable because of a public sewer and utility system. The water coming into the house is clean because there are laws about that sort of thing. The road going to your house is paid for with public resources. You don't have a porn store open next door because there are laws for that too. In short, hundreds, maybe thousands, of people are responsible for the simple step of self-reliance that is called home ownership.

It isn't hard to see the same jump to education. I went to a public college and didn't pay tuition in five years of higher education. A scholarship endowment--backed by a LOT of generous people and taxpayers--did that for me. And while my obligation may not be to work at a traditional nine to five job, I still have to assert that I have a deep obligation to society. Where I overstepped the mark in my previous post was that in implying my own approach to paying it forward (or back or whatever you call it) is the only approach. If the first generation of feminists taught us anything, it's that women should get to choose whatever life they wish; I hope that the second generation of feminists has the wisdom to realize that choosing means leaving behind the things we don't value and rejecting false ideas of what it means to be a woman.

Not Yo Momma's Fruit Salad

Plantboy didn't trust me at first when he brought all of those delightful ripe berries in the house from the garden and I wanted to do more than just wash them and throw them on the table, but he learned to trust me. And you should too.

Not Yo Momma's Fruit Salad

* 2 cups of fruit in any combination of the following--kiwi (Zespri brand only, please), blackberries, blueberries, strawberries and/or raspberries
* 1/2 cup good quality balsamic vinegar (Costco actually sells an excellent one)
* 4 Tbsp white sugar
* Crumbled feta cheese



About an hour before serving, make a balsamic vinegar reduction by combining the sugar and the vinegar over low-medium heat, whisking frequently until the mixture thickens slightly. Take some time on this: you don't want to burn/crystallize the mixture. You want to just steam the moisture out of it. You also don't want to reduce it TOO much because then you end up with syrup. That is actually quite awesome too, but you want something that will cool to a dressing texture, not a solid.

When your reduction begins sticking to a spoon, put it in the fridge to cool. Slice larger fruit (strawberries and kiwi) into bite-sized chunks and toss it with the smaller fruit. Drizzle cool dressing down over the top and let it sit for about ten minutes before serving. The fruit will begin to lose some of its moisture to the dressing and make it fruity and tangy at the same time.

Just before serving, sprinkle the top with feta. (The cheese isn't as pretty if it absorbs the dressing.)

Other options:

Spoon the fruit over the top of pound cake, then drizzle generous portions of the dressing/syrup over the whole thing.

Dip anything you have on hand into the reduction. It is my new favorite thing.


The garden has been my best friend this week. Wednesday it was a delightful all-vegetable dinner--creamed peas with sweet onions over new potatoes, roasted golden beets and tri-colored carrots, salad from the garden. The night I served the above it was with bacon spaghetti (using Plantboy's canned Italian Tomatoes and loads of fresh basil) with lemon rosemary bread. Since I cannot get the balsamic vinegar reduction or my new crepe pan out of my head, Sunday is going to be grilled chicken and roasted vegetable crepes drizzled with the stuff with a side of caprese salad and green beans. And next time you have a hamburger, you must (MUST) add a thick slice of roasted red or golden beet to the top. It tastes like Australia.






I suddenly feel so hungry.

Summer

We haven't had family photos in three years. Pathetic, I know. Still, I think the result was worth waiting for. We found a photographer who was willing to meet us out at the coast. This spot is one of my favorites in the whole world. (At least the small part of the world I've seen up until now.) It was a perfectly lovely day, and I think the effect she put on these pictures is just so cool. Getting around to printing might take some time, but for now you can enjoy them.

Cause I'm a WOMAN!

Let's see how well you remember this old commercial:

I can bring home the bacon . . . .
Fry it up in a pan . . . .

And now the last part?

And never let you forget you're a man
'Cause I'm a WO-man!

I wanted to start with this retrospective today because of a provocative article my brother sent me late last week. With my return to school this month, the article, a New York Times OpEd titled, "Don't Quit This Day Job" has caused me to stop and think about a lot of things.

But let's analyze the commercial first. If you are somewhere near my age, even if you had very limited access to television like we did, then you probably knew not only the lyrics, but the brassy, bluesy music that goes with it. These simple lyrics are the ultimate woman-message of the 80's. Our moms, the first generation of mainstream feminists, were home (often part-time) with young kids.

"I can bring home the bacon . . . " Implies that women, now working, could do just as good a job at providing for their families as their husbands.

"And fry it up in a pan . . ." Woman can also still be good at all those domestic tasks that are traditionally hers. Our mothers, who largely bought into feminism without even realizing it, (and were beneficiaries in many ways whether they supported it or not) really had a raw deal. They believed in equality a generation ahead of the men. My mother, who worked anywhere from 8 to 40 hours throughout all my growing up years, also worked full-time at home. I've never seen my dad iron or vacuum or change a diaper or dust or mend or start a load of laundry. The extent of his domestic ability is to grill and make pancakes on Saturday morning.

Now, before going to the next part, who remembers what this commercial was actually about? That's right. PERFUME. A now-defunct brand called "Enjoli."

The last couplet implies that not only can woman be the breadwinner and run the household, but she can be ready for an intense sexual experience at any given time. The question she puts to her man is, "Are YOU ready?" (Stupid question, really.) I also think it is funny how she must remind him that he is a man: I guess because modern woman does everything the emasculated modern man needs more reassurance.

My brother, the doctor, forwarded the above-referenced OpEd to me from another doctor--male--who was quick to point out that "he was not in agreement with the article." I suppose that a sensitive, new-age guy (SNAG) must say such a thing. But I am under no such constraints and may say whatever I like to the three or four of you still following Science Teacher Mommy. I am LARGELY in agreement with the sentiments expressed by Dr. Sibert in her OpEd.

For those of you that didn't link to the article I will summarize. Dr. Sibert expresses deep frustration at the vast numbers of women who go into medicine without the intention of practicing full time. She sees a disturbing trend as more and more medical schools are giving spots to individuals who intend to pursue medicine as a part-time career, citing that 48% of all medical school diplomas last year were given to women. She is frustrated by current attitudes that view doctor-ing as a great part-time option for women.

Wait . . . wait. . . haven't I been a part time worker for many years? Putting my teaching on hold for a family?

In a word, yes.

But we aren't talking about teaching, we are talking about medicine. And the good doctor points out that there are other considerations here. Medical school tuition is astronomical, but it still doesn't cover the costs of operating a medical school. The federal government subsidizes them. (In other words, you and I do. Sort of--45% of Americans don't actually pay federal taxes, but that is another discussion for another time.) Even more heavily subsidized are residency programs, with resident salaries coming almost entirely from the Medicaid budget. Dr. Sibert is angry with young doctors who don't recognize the investment poured into them, and maintains that doctors who don't practice full time are not as effective (they don't have as much practice) for their patients. Patients who are the very public who subsidized their education, and now hold all the promissory notes on their student loans too.

She is taking a bold stand by saying, "Newsflash: women CANNOT have it all!" And I agree. The notion that we can be all things to every person and still gain broad personal satisfaction is the biggest fallacy to come out of the Women's Movement of the 1960's and 1970's. I know, I've said it before, but we are at something like 425 posts here, and some things bear repeating.

When it comes to medicine, Dr. Sibert maintains, personal decisions (like the fact that 40% of female doctors in their childbearing years only work part time) have huge consequences for the public. Within just 15 years, this country will be short 150,000 doctors, especially General Practice doctors (the area where more of the residents are women). The Health Care legislation insures more people, and our population is aging. There is a terrible bottleneck in doctor training, with many times more people turned away then actually get into school. And when it comes to women in these professions, they are increasingly choosing them because of the options for part time work.

In addition, funding is becoming increasingly tight for residencies as the government cuts more and more from those areas in an attempt to balance the budget. What a kick in the pants to get through medical school only to learn there is no way for you to actually get the hands-on training needed to become a full doctor . . . perhaps it is a bigger kick in the pants to realize that you didn't get a spot ahead of a woman with excellent test scores whose ambition is to primarily be a stay at home mom.

Now, obviously, my brother's area of concern is the best medical care to the most patients, and his interest in this article is of that nature. I think there are things that could be done: states with a terrible mortality rate (relative) and a lack of doctors where they need to be, could subsidize tuition or even forgive student loans in exchange for a certain number of full-time years as a GP in rural and minority communities or in clinics that service areas with terrible poverty. I think you'd see a lot of people take advantage of that. Dr. Sibert offers few suggestions, though her tone implies that she would not like to see spots given at all without firm commitments about the work people will put back into the system that demands a lot but also gives a lot. She is right on the money in trying to address this difficult issue, and suggests that young female doctor-candidates need to be spoken to more candidly about the detriments of part time work.

For me, however, the article raises broader questions that can be applied to women everywhere, and maybe most particularly to LDS women who feel intense pressure to stay home (and whose husbands feel intense pressure to keep them there), but also near-constant encouragement to get all the education they can and excel at all they do. The feminist movement has finally produced the generation of young women it intended to--women with liberal ideas toward sex, who don't necessarily associate childbearing with sexual experience; women who believe that any career is open to them; women who see having children and/or marriage as one path in many toward self-actualization; women who are ambitious and driven and don't give a fig if they out-compete the men.

But I feel deeply conflicted about it. When Plantboy graduated from his master's program, nearly HALF of the graduates at the campus-wide commencement that day were in the college of education. As secondary teachers actually graduate from the college that was their major focus, this means that all of those COE graduates were either elementary teachers or psychology majors. Most of them were women. The rest of that half was rounded out by those in the college of Family Life--including interior design, social work and family human development. Again, nearly all women. I would have been fascinated, on that campus of mostly LDS people, to learn how many of those women ever worked. Ever intended to work.

Granted, their college experience was still valuable to them and their families, but it was a public college, heavily subsidized by taxpayers. In addition, most students attend college on some mixture of scholarships, grants and loans--all backed by common funds. Governments INVEST in education in the hopes of getting some kind of broad return on society.

Please don't misunderstand. I primarily identify myself as a stay at home mom, and I have done so for the last ten years. I believe that in most circumstances, kids get a better start in life if they have their mothers home with them during the first few years. I think if people are going to have children then they should also make the commitment to raise them.

But I also think that the Women's Movement not only deluded us into thinking that we could have it all, but that we were somehow lesser women if we didn't. So we are a generation of guilt-ridden women, unsure where we belong. We sacrifice career for family, but when the career calls we sacrifice family for that. Years of self-sacrifice can leave us worn down and bitter if we aren't careful.

I feel like every year in my life I have had to re-negotiate the balance between my own wishes and the wishes of the four men who depend on me for nearly everything. I try to be prayerful. I try to listen to the Holy Ghost. And then I act and try not to look back. I try not to feel deeply sad as the novel is shelved for who knows how long because I ran out of time to reach my own deadline. I try to get enthusiastic about another game of Apples to Apples Junior. I try to remember that doing the laundry is my version of clothing the naked, that making dinner is how I feed the hungry. I try to be cheerful about the three a.m. daily alarm knowing that the paper route is a means to an end. I try not to think about how I will possibly balance school, and eventually a full time job with a busy, needy family. I try not to be envious when my husband receives accolades at work. I try to desire motherhood above everything else even when it feels foreign to my nature. I try not to resent that I put my husband through school twice, but that this time around I must largely put myself through.

That last paragraph is pretty raw and honest . . . maybe nobody made it quite this far. But if you did, then maybe you or someone you love feels as conflicted as I do sometimes. People will often remark on how confident I am, and I feel like kind of a poser. Sometimes that outward display of confidence is the way I blow smoke over all the conflicting forces inside of me. Maybe this is the true essence of modern woman. Bottle that, Enjoli.

The Essence of a Mission

I read two interesting articles today.

The first is this one from NPR. The tacky title notwithstanding, it is actually quite interesting and informative. I deeply appreciated the acknowledgment that Glenn Beck doesn't speak for most mainstream Latter-day Saints. For the most part, the tone and research in the article is good. I think that American reporters are starting to feel more comfortable with the presence of Mormons in public life, and the reality that our belief system in some way must be dealt with.

The comment-ers on this type of story are funny/fascinating/frustrating. Three camps seem to come out on every Mormon-story that runs in a national forum. The first group is completely anti-religion, railing that any person who claims religious-preference hovers between deluded and insane. These people would erase all evidence of religion from public life. (See Communist Russia for such a happy state of affairs.) In an effort to emphasize just how far on the crazy spectrum Mormons are, these people love to pull out difficult and questionable details from events that are over a 100 years old and present them as proof that we cannot be trusted to make good decisions.

The second camp are those Christians (generally of the Evangelical and/or Baptist variety) who feel like it is their duty to further "inform" and readers about the specific details that only their ministers seem to know. I think they also hope to bring a few Mormons into their version of the light along the way. Interestingly, they employ the same techniques as the people in the first group, though their venom is disguised in zealousness.

No less zealous is the third general group: Mormons themselves. The ones who choose to comment are nearly always extremely defensive, and they seek mostly to correct the other comment-ers rather than address topics that were actually in the article. Mormon intellectuals are strangely absent. It isn't that they don't exist, it just seems that they keep more to themselves in that nebulous online Mormon-world dubbed "The Bloggernacle." These blogs range from informative and faithful, to full of contentious former Mormons who just can't quite break from the Church. LDS people have always had difficulty balancing our public persona with easy exclusivity.

Whose idea were these public forums anyway? With no moderator, the discussion is rarely useful or informative, and only the angriest (the ALL CAPS people) and least-informed (the people for whom English grammar seems to be a total enigma) among us. But that is entirely beside the point.

The second article, linked by a single, thoughtful comment-er, was to Bloomberg Newsweek and also spoke about the Mormon Missionary experience and what it can do for people, professionally. The article draws a correlation between the many successful Mormon businessmen (disproportionately high to the less than 2% of the US population we comprise) and the missionary experience. The article is lengthy and says much about the unique leadership experiences we have while growing up and the ease with which LDS people adapt to a corporate hierarchy, because of the Church's top-down structure. Women are nearly entirely overlooked in the article. I bet Whitney might have helped them with that.

And while the writers of each article clearly made an effort to get the facts, and to write as respectfully as they could about things that are, quite frankly, incredibly difficult for "outsiders" to understand, I think they totally missed the point of the mission experience. Totally. It is true that one of the goals of the missionary program is to create future Church leaders, but that process is about changing hearts, not creating corporate clones. There is no mention of understanding and receiving revelation, witnessing miracles, feeling the Spirit, growing up, gaining empathy, intense hours of gospel study . . . the things that truly turn the sincere missionary into a new person. For every successful CEO RM, there are thousands who just re-enter normal life, newly committed, more sensitive, and with a broader picture of the world beyond the one in which they have always known. These anonymous tens of thousands, and the energized converts they find, are the backbone of the Church.

Boy, did these two commentaries miss the mark.

I wrote an essay a couple of weeks ago for a friend. She sent me a subscription to a literary magazine published each quarter called "Granta." It is British, and truthfully pretty out there. Last quarter's issue was called "Alien" and each essay was told by an outsider looking in. My own essay was about my adjustment to Australia, and I'm quite pleased with the result. It is too lengthy to post here (and Blogger can't accommodate my snarky footnotes), but I'm happy to send anyone a copy who wants one. Just send me an e-mail.

What Have I Done????

My first class starts on Monday. I'm sort of having a panic attack.

Remind why I'm doing this again?

Conflicted

I sort of love comic book stories. I'm sure I've mentioned before my love-of-all-things-Batman, but I might have failed to mention that a close runner up in my mind is the X-Men franchise. I think that I love the story because it is so character-driven. Yes, yes, that might be a lot to say about comic books and movies geared toward boys who are primarily interested in blowing stuff up and breasts; but at their hearts, the best superhero stories are about people with extraordinary powers who would probably prefer just to fit in. Dr. Xavier starts a school so that "gifted" kids will have a place to go. Rogue contemplates giving up her power so that she might know human touch. Cyclopes wanting to see through human eyes. Batman fighting the scepters of his parents' death, Peter Parker haunted by the one murder he can never stop . . . I'm telling you, these are just great, character-driven stories. The villains in these stories become such when they believe their power makes them superior to others--they lose their empathy for "regular" humanity.

The X-Men story is a great example of this. The main bad guy, Magneto, is a survivor from a concentration camp. As much as his fellow mutants try to help him use his amazing power (he can control metal) for good, he can never quite forget or forgive how those who are different are treated by those in power. His inability to let go of the past turns him into the thing he most hated.

But on to why I am conflicted.

The X-Men franchise has a history of casting really, really good-looking men. Case in point:

Look at me and my bad self. I'm even cute with crazy sideburns and spikes for fingers. And don't even get me started on the mad blow-dryer skills that give me this hair-do.

The best-looking guys all know how to swagger, and I know you want this jacket.

This smile is really my best feature. I cannot figure out how I got cast as Wolverine: he doesn't smile once in six hours of movie mayhem. Oh wait, I know how . . . . it is all about my huge pythons. Did you SEE that first picture? XOXOXOXO

For the life of me, I cannot figure out how all of these Hugh Jackman pictures have ended up here. This last one doesn't even have anything to do with X-Men. Still, you've got to love Nicole Kidman's face. She is thinking, "If anything happens to Keith, The Drover is definitely my back-up plan." Hugh Jackman? He is thinking, "Good grief, a guy doesn't shave for a day and look what happens."

Here is another smoking hot actor who must have been cast purely for the bone structure of half a face. He also has an adorable grin that he doesn't get to use. Not a lot of smiling in the X-Men movies.

Dang! Hugh has beaten me out of the scruffy contest again! I've been working on this shadow all week.

The new film, coming out tomorrow, is no exception. It is easy to like the good guys when they are Hugh Jackman or James Marsden or James McAvoy. It is easy to distance yourself from the bad guys when they are made to look totally freaky or are 100 years old, cold as ice, and your first thought is Gandalf when you see them.

I am SOOOOO cerebral. And when I grow up I get to be Jean Luc Picard.

Did I say cerebral, ladies? What I meant is ACTION ADVENTURE GOD. Real men are all Brits.

Can you say male-dominated? I think this will be one drawback from the trilogy. Jane Grey, Storm and Rogue are such strong characters. This film seems to highlight January Jones in her lingerie. Could that honestly be comfortable? For saving the world? She makes Wonderwoman look like a Nun. (See earlier comment about the need for this genre to appeal to teenage boys. *sigh*) And Kevin Bacon? Honestly?

Batman's villians have been likewise unappealing--Jack Nicholson, a shredded-faced Heath Ledger, Danny DeVito, Arnold Swcharznegger, etc. It is not so easy to dislike the bad guy when he is MR. ROCHESTER:

I have a name. It is Michael Fassbender. And soon all the world will know it!
(Insert maniacal, bad-guy laughter here)

Team Xavier, or Team Magneto? I have a feeling that even a ticket to the movie isn't going to solve this dilemma.