Matters of economy

I don’t think I’m imagining it. Seems like each time I get on an airplane, the seats get closer together. It’s a cost saving measure, no doubt, but it seems a little extreme. Now, as part of the preflight video, they demonstrated how passengers may exercise in flight by rotating the neck. Wasn’t my neck that was bothering me. It was my knees. There’s an Edgar Allen Poe story where the prisoner’s cell gets smaller each day and the walls eventually close in upon the protagonist. If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect that story was written following a tourist class flight. The airlines don’t pack passengers as tightly as the masters of slave ships used to (see below), but in my grimmer moments I consider things may be moving in that direction.

Above: "Floor plan" of a slave ship. Those little lines represent people.
Anyone remember the name of that Poe story?

Large airports are notoriously difficult to navigate. Beijing’s can be daunting, Kafkaesque, sometimes frightening; even Cincinnati’s can be tricky. With its seven separate concourses, JFK is labyrinthine, but I didn’t find it hard to make my way through it. In New York they expect you to say what you want with no preliminaries and follow their brusque instructions. I grew up there, and it’s easy for me. Something to be said for knowing the drill.

Above: a standing room only crowd at Kennedy airport. I did find a seat, eventually, but not immediately.

Ain't over 'til the Fat Lady boards the plane-- And even then...

My one suitcase is packed. Half what I'm bringing is presents-- T-shirts, ETSU bookmarks and key chains, tea towels embroidered here in the mountains. The Chinese are big gift givers, and it's best to reciprocate. I'm only taking one suitcase; I've packed far less clothing, and too many books. Heavy suitcases are usually opened by Homeland Security; this happens to me all the time. My stuff must be boring to go through.

How ever organized one is, getting away is not simple. Any time I go on campus, I learn that while I have done almost everything, I have not in fact done everything. Lord knows, I try. The voicemail is set; the virtual office assistant warns of delays on my email; I've emptied my mailbox in Room 401. But there's always something-- a form to sign, a receipt to turn in, a request for information about ESL to answer. And for better or worse, I can be tracked down on the other side of the world. So while I am going away, there actually is no getting away.

Above: Beware of stowaways!

Below: Rhododendron time at the Clemmer College of Education

Both Sides, Now

It's two years since my first trip to China, and on Wednesday, I leave for Nanjing once more. China has just now sustained a devastating earthquake, though not any where near the region to which I am travelling. But I think it's having a major impact on everyone.

Learning to live on both sides of the globe is interesting, if a little disorienting. For Prof. Guo Tao's birthday (above), we made up a cake with both English and Chinese writing. We sang the Happy Birthday song in Chinese. I first met Tao in March of 2007 in Beijing and got to know him better this year, during his time as a visiting scholar.

Li Hongmei (below) is also a visiting scholar. We've been going for walks together this spring. When I see her next, it will be in Beijing.

I'm Going Back

I'm going back When I began international teaching, I intended to teach in many different countries. I have wanderlust, and at 59 I feel my time is short.But when you travel, you make friends, and you want to see them again.

Traveling is easier today, so we don't stay glued to our country. We make calls overseas, send emails and fly back and forth. We have friends many places.

So in May, I'm returning to China. While there, I'll be teaching and studying Chinese at the Oxford English Academy in Nanjing. Joe will be with me the latter part of the trip, and we'll visit Weihai and Beijing as well. I also hope to arrange a teaching project for ETSU students, possibly for summer of 2009. I promise to blog while I'm over there. When I'm in the US, I find much less to blog about, though I continue to write.

Below: Chinese friends, state side visit our home.

Literacy online

There was a snowstorm the night before last, and ETSU's day classes were cancelled. But we were open in the evening, and that's when I teach. As a Northerner, I am comfortable with winter driving, I didn't think my students would be particularly enthusiastic about driving home afterward on mountain roads in the dark and cold, so we held class online.

I've always liked the idea of online instruction because it affords education to those who would not otherwise have access. But my own experiences with online teaching have been negative; it seems so impersonal. Yesterday, though, I had a lot of time to devote to preparation, and I made a discovery: online instruction when augmented with visuals permits a different kind of communication. As I sat at my computer, I felt I was welcoming the students into my world. It was kind of like blogging.

A Ritual

In my ultra-liberal agnostic Jewish family, attending civil rights marches and anti-war rallies was a religious ritual. During the Vietnam War, my Dad was always telling me to attend these things, just as some parents remind their kids to go to church . I've never gone on as many marches as Dad wanted, but sometimes I've turn up-- like going to church Easter Sunday when you haven't been all year.

My friend Julia Rogers persuaded me to attend yesterday's march in honor of Dr. King. For our students, he is a figure from history. We sang "Lift Every Voice and Sing." Young people who had not lived through the sixtes made speeches in honor of MLK, and there was a ritual reading of the "I Have a Dream" Speech. Just think-- when Dr. King made that speech, ETSU was segregated. As we did in the sixties, we joined hands and sang "We Shall Overcome." We assembled outside the Culp Center, and made a short march around campus.

The press was on hand, and there were photographers. In my student days, photographers did not hound me, nor did I seek them. But this crowd wasn't big, so it was hard to get lost. I wound up on the evening news and in the Johnson City Press (above).