The Bounty of Summer

Summer in Ann Arbor is beautiful. I was here once before, for debate camp in high school; my fondest memory from that trip is of benign armies of thick white clouds, hanging in formation across the sky. We don't have clouds like that in the Bay Area, or fireflies. For me, lightning bugs in the evening imbue everything with a glow of simplicity and innocence.

On top of that, it is summer, and I have so much freedom. I got a conference pass to the University of Michigan athletic facilities (courtesy of the School of Education; thanks, guys!), and I swam every day this week except Wednesday! This is amazing, considering that the last time I exercised on a regular basis was when I was stuck in a studio apartment with Wii Fit. My first three swims weren't that enjoyable; they felt like moral but not really physical triumphs. This last time was really nice, though, and I feel like I'm progressing toward fitness. I started with 1/4 of a mile, and I'm able to do it now under 10 minutes and without feeling tired at the end. It's my goal to keep swimming regularly once classes start at the end of August, and I think it should be possible if I make it a habit to get up at the same time or maybe even a little later than I would have gotten up for work this year. There are certain conditions that are conducive to me exercising, and at least a few will be met: swimming will be free and it should be easy to get to a pool; I'll have an exercise buddy in Na'amah, who was great at getting me to go cycling with her in college; and I'm hoping to sign up for a yoga class, and if I do, I'll definitely go to it.

Besides general summery-ness and getting good exercise, I am having a wonderful time here because I'm surrounded by great people at work and at home. I'm staying with an old friend of Patrick's and her husband, and they are totally my speed. We felt lazy today (Saturday) and instead of doing a touristy thing as planned, we stayed in and baked cookies, quiche, and stromboli and made amazing sushi with sweet potato fries, spicy mayo, avocado, cucumber, eggs, and shitakes (not all of those went into every roll), all while listening to Louis Prima.

At the university, I've been working weird hours but getting fed extremely well and getting to know some cool people (including a guy who plays the accordion in a punk band!). There's a research team from Berkeley, so I've enjoyed meeting people I'll work with there. I'm also connecting with the people in math education here at the University of Michigan, and I think there's a good chance that we'll do more together in the future. I can't say enough good things about Deborah Ball; besides being incredibly brave about making her teaching public, she is really, really sweet and caring. She sent me a text message today just telling me she's glad I'm here and hoping I'm having a nice Saturday!

There have been plenty of interesting discussions, and the students are doing a great job. More about all that later.

Mexico #11 + US #1

No summer in Mexico City is complete without a dose of Diego Rivera. The last touristy things we did—besides shopping for artesania and going to see Harry Potter (in English with Spanish subtitles)— were to go to Anahuacalli, which Rivera built for his collection of pre-Hispanic art and artifacts, and the little museum downtown where his 1947 mural, Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central, or Dream of a Sunday Afternoon on the Alameda, is housed. I remain impressed and a little disturbed by the sweep of his vision across history and into the future. These pieces are more on the impressive side, for sure. Anahuacalli is a work of art in itself, with some interesting mosaics by Rivera and great attention to Mayan and Mexica myths and architecture (mixed in with hammer-and-sickle motifs, of course). The collection Rivera established there includes a wide array of objects, some everyday and some ceremonial, in excellent condition for being 500 years old and older.

I'm now back in the US, still adjusting to speaking English to strangers. The weather in Michigan has been lovely so far (and very similar to Mexico City's), with highs in the upper 70s and some rain. I'm staying with friends who found the egg of a monarch butterfly 15 days ago, and we are now engaged in a vigil to see the resulting caterpillar break out of his skin and make his chrysalis. (I think caterpillars don't actually have a gender—it develops as part of their metamorphosis—but it doesn't seem right to call him “It.” Sarah has raised him from an egg and is even considering saving his surprisingly abundant poop for his Baby Book.) He's been hanging in J-formation since last night. It's very exciting yet also somewhat like watching paint dry. A strange paradox. Aaahh, he's wiggling all around and it looks like his head is going to pop off any minute!! Oh, he's still again. Poor guy. It must be so exhausting to try and burst out of your own skin. AAAHHH, it happened! I saw this!!


(Thank you, Evanson Art, for really detailed information and great photos on the life cycle of the monarch butterfly.)

The skin over his head split and he wiggled and wiggled it off of his three-centimeter body. It was SO CRAZY. His little legs wiggled off! Well, probably it was just leg-shaped skin. But what happened to his legs? How did he cover himself in a jade-green case under his stripey black and yellow skin? What went on in the 15.5 hours between letting go of the top of the jar and bursting like this? He's so little! Will he be a little butterfly? Do butterflies grow after they emerge? Wowowowow!!

Another friend started what he is calling his “America List,” of things he likes about America. I'm all for such a project; though it runs the risk of promoting American exceptionalism, I think it's important for us to constantly exhibit—and remember—our pride in America, as well as our most just criticisms. So it got me thinking, what would be on my list?

1. Stability of government. I am fascinated by the Supreme Court, and by many of the presidents we have had, but what I really appreciate is the structure that has been flexible enough to accommodate so much change in material realities as well as values. Political movements don't need to be revolutionary—in the sense of revolution that involves overthrowing the government—in order to affect change. I am very, very thankful for this. It may be easy for college students discovering radicalism to quote Che, but so many revolutions (and certainly Ernesto 'Che' Guevara's) are violent and come with so much loss—and bring only questionable gains. Thank you, America, for the Constitution and its amendments, for the Supreme Court, for George Washington and the peaceful transfer of power.


2. American music. Most of the things I like about America are not things that I feel need to be justified as uniquely American; they can be true about other countries and still be things I like about his one. I guess this is true about music as well, but honestly, who can compete? The blues, jazz, soul, hip hop ... I was shopping in a market in Mexico City and purchased a picture frame. As she wrapped it for me, the attendant pulled out the photo of Angelina Jolie. I jokingly said, “I don't get to keep it??” She went on to question Angelina's capacity to be a good mother, then to raise a lament for Michael Jackson's children. American pop culture is not only everywhere, it's dominant in most countries I can think of (at least in urban areas). I'm not proud of High School Musical, and especially after watching his memorial, I feel at best ambivalent about MJ as a person. But he was an incredible artist, and I'm proud to be proud of the musical tradition that he is part of.


3. Diversity. It is awesome to be part of a culture that has attracted people with so many different backgrounds, and even though it hasn't always welcomed these people, it has incorporated their beliefs, customs, and cuisines to the point where the mixture itself is what defines it. This encourages a kind of constant cultural renewal and rethinking. And it tastes good.


4. Natural resources. The sheer size of the US, with coasts on two oceans and all kinds of prairie, plains, and mountains in between makes it beautiful—and an economic powerhouse that is pretty darn pleasant to live in. We get to have things like water fountains. It is fantastic.


5. Barack Obama and his entire multi-continental family. I feel like this is my country in a way that I never have before, for so many reasons. Thank you, America—and the Bush Administration—for giving me this chance.

The caterpillar/chrysalis shrank! The top half got all smushed, and now it's only 1.5 cm! Wow little guy. You are amazing.

Yale Bologna Fest, here we come!

Mexico #10

We spent last week in Merida, in the northwestern part of the Yucatan Peninsula. Went there to visit with Patrick's dad and his wife (George and Susy). Susy is from Mexico and lived in Merida for some time, and they've bought a house there to live in part-time. Her sisters live there now, and they are really very sweet. Highlights of the Yucatan include: Mayan ruins, fresh fish everywhere, some lovely beaches, and interesting wildlife. Our itinerary:

Monday: Lunch at 100% Natural, a chain restaurant with lots of fresh juices and whole grains. Went to Chedraui, a huge Wal-Mart like store, to stock up on groceries and miscellaneous household items. Spent some time deliberating on which cheese would make the best quesadillas.

Tuesday: Ruins at Dzibilchaltun. At the equinoxes, the rising sun shines precisely though the doorway in the main temple (at left). My fav part was the cenote, where we swam and were nibbled upon by the little fish. Though it is shallow enough to wade in on one end, it extends down some 44 meters on the other side. In this flat, salt-water dominated landscape, cenotes were once essential sources of fresh water. Some of them are connected by underground rivers (as suggested by the helpful diagram below) with caves that you can tour, but we didn't do any of that on this trip. We did go to the beach at Progreso, where the wind is strong and the water of the Gulf is warm as anything. Delightful swim.

Wednesday: Home Depot. (Merida is full of American and American-style developments.) George and Susy's house is still coming together. We got a drill bit to go through the concrete walls (everything is concrete) and some other odds and ends. Then to downtown Merida, where we enjoyed a free exhibit of incredible Goya prints at an art center of some kind. He really engraved a wide range of horrified/horrifying expressions. Observed that parts of the downtown still have some colonial-era beauty, but overall it is on the dirty, hot and crowded side of things.

Thursday: More ruins. Opted for the less-crowded Uxmal over Chichen. The pyramid was big and there were enormous iguanas everywhere. Looking at the pictures, I realize how neat a place it is (somehow, the feel of it reminded me of the Getty Museum), but at the time I was very hot (temperatures reaching above 100 degrees Fahrenheit) and bothered by mosquito bites. This was before I discovered Avapena (cloropiramina, it says), a medication that replaces the hormone that my body is missing to help it process bites without blowing up, or something. As with all medications in Mexico, it is sold over the counter, and I got it on the recommendation of a veterinarian (and excellent chef) who is Susy's brother-in-law. Now I have it and I feel much better. Anyway there is a Mayan pyramid at Uxmal that was supposedly built and re-built five times, each time larger. We saw an old photograph and realized that the current restoration is quite significant, from repairing broken walls to landscaping.


Friday: Flamingos! Did I say it was flat and salty? These conditions are perfect for the tall pink birds, and even though peak season for their migration doesn't come until August, we saw dozens of them, dunking their heads in the shallow lakes, napping on one leg, ignoring the cormorants, and generally looking much cooler than they do in the zoo. Also, we hadn't seen enough ruins yet, so we took a short turnoff marked Zona Arqueologica: Xcambo. It was actually my favorite site; the smaller scale made it much easier to imagine the way people would have lived there (and I was on Avapena). If Chichen Itza were New York, Uxmal might be Chicago and Xcambo might be Albany. Friday was further packed with a search for the perfect beach, which we very nearly found in the form of a stretch of shore served by the restaurant Bella Mar, owned by a Korean-Mexican couple. More warm, warm water, lots of beautiful shells, a strong breeze keeping things cool (and mosquitoes off!), and yummy fish dishes. We had to walk some 30 feet out to reach water deep enough to swim in, which meant that there was lots of shallow water to explore. We found a starfish!


Saturday: We left Merida just as Master Ou arrived. He is at the center of a pangu qigong conference that Susy worked hard to plan while the rest of us played at the ruins and the beaches.

I think I've gotten the hang of putting pictures on my blog, but it's always hard to tell how they'll show up on screens with different dimensions (but remember, you can always click on an image to see it larger). Also, blogging takes forever! I have other stuff to do, man. Before I go, here's one more photo, of a small but brilliantly colored lizard.

Not that Far

Though I'm still in Mexico, I've followed some of the news in the U.S. and, thanks to YouTube, watched President Obama's speech to the NAACP and excerpts from Judge Sotomayor's confirmation hearings.

My interest in the Supreme Court is as old as any academic interest I can remember. I think it's related to the ability of the justices to apply their political convictions without thinking about political repercussions or feasibility; the decisions--and dissentions--of the Court reflect their times in a different way than do legislation or speeches by elected officials. To me, the relationship between the Court, the law, and the values and norms of American society is fascinating.

One recent case that has caught my attention is Redding v. Safford. You probably heard about the school officials conducting a strip search of a 13-year-old girl, on an unverified tip that she was hiding ibuprofen. One reason this is significant to me is that I have seen a lot of things at my school of questionable legality, including searches and unofficial expulsions. I do believe that there is a different standard of constitutional protections inside schools, but there must be limits on what school officials can do to students. (As a side note, it is troubling to me that despite being a small community that strives for mutual accountability and trust, we often respond to allegations of theft at YWLCS by saying there is nothing we can do, and when we do conduct searches, they often target White and Latina students, the minority groups in the school.) Unfortunately, I don't think the opinions of the Supreme Court reach down to YWLCS--though I do hope that under new leadership, which the school recently gained, we'll see some improvements in school culture.

The second reason this case seems particularly relevant to me at the moment is the way it reveals the role of gender on the Court. In a much-quoted interview with USA Today, Justice Ginsburg makes it clear that because of her gender, some of her perceptions in this case and in others vary from those of her male peers on the bench: "You know the line that Sandra and I keep repeating ... that 'at the end of the day, a wise old man and a wise old woman reach the same judgment'? But there are perceptions that we have because we are women. It's a subtle influence."

Ginsburg goes on to say that most of the time, the conclusions that she comes to are seldom different from her colleagues' as a result of gender. But sometimes the difference is significant, as in the case of Lilly Ledbetter. As the interview states, "the court — with Ginsburg vigorously dissenting — narrowly ruled [in the Ledbetter case] that women could not sue for pay inequities resulting from sex discrimination that had occurred years earlier." Again quoting the interview, Ginsburg "was openly frustrated that some of her male colleagues, in her view, might not have understood the discrimination women face on the job." To me, it is easy to imagine how a person who is very much against gender discrimination in theory but who does not see it as a serious problem in practice (they might think, for example, that it is not widespread, or that when it does occur it is not difficult to address and overcome) can come to a conclusion that is different and which has very different implications for society than the conclusion arrived at by a person who is equally opposed in theory but who has a different set of experiences which indicate that is is a serious problem in practice. Obviously, that set of experiences is informed by many factors, gender being only one.

All of this takes me back to the top of the post. I think that Judge Sotomayor brings a set of experiences to her work that are important to include in the jurisprudence of our diverse and pluralistic nation. She seems eminently qualified and there is no doubt in my mind that in some cases, her background will allow her some insight that other justices will miss, just as in other cases, their various backgrounds will allow them certain insights.

I don't believe that all the conclusions that people of color come to as a result of living as part of minority groups are right; indeed, they couldn't be, because they are as diverse and contradictory as can be. But there's a reason we relish the idea of pulling yourself up by your bootstraps in this country, isn't there? What does someone who has been through that see, that someone who was born into a life of comfort and wealth doesn't? In a similar but obviously not identical way, living without the privilege of being in the majority informs one's perceptions. A commentator on bloggingheads put it this way: "For people who only know the wood-paneled office in New York ... just like she has 15 more years on the bench than John Roberts, she has ... more experience, she knows more about America." Sotomayor may not have better experience, just more, in the commentator's analysis.

In the quote that won't go away, Sotomayor says: "I would hope that a wise Latina woman, with the richness of her experiences, would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn't lived that life." I think it's reasonable, in general, to hope that someone with more experience would use those experiences to come to better decisions than someone with less experience. I regret that race politics are such that this remark has stirred up such anxiety on the behalf of white males, plenty of whom have confronted difficult issues that have enriched their experiences, and many of whom have not. I know this is true because of the interactions I've had, including conversations explicitly about race and privilege.

It strikes me as absurd to claim that the law should be made without regard to personal beliefs and experiences. Those beliefs and experiences are what drive and inspire us, and we should talk about them, work out their consequences, and use them to fuel the debates about our policies and our future that our democracy requires. To me, it is far more frightening to imagine a world where government is driven by machines that do not have beliefs or experiences but run on some program, say Constitution 2.9 or NCLB 2001, than to live with a government that is run by people who make mistakes but who can be flexible enough to acknowledge those mistakes, explore them when necessary, and improve.

I feel like I've really rambled and not said anything particularly original, but I would be honored to hear your responses, disagreements, etc. in the comments section or in person, or via email, whatever ...

On a related but divergent note, I need to do some research on the racial achievement gap. I would love to see some data comparing achievement of minority students in schools where they are part of the majority, where they are part of a small minority, and where no one race makes up the majority of the student body.

I guess this leaves my comments about Obama's speech as a kind of postscript. Well, I loved it, and the focus on specific issues that are important for America at large with special salience in the black community, but my favorite part wasn't something he said. It was the vibrance of the cheer when he called on the NAACP to fight discrimination against "our gay brothers and sisters." I feel encouraged.

Mexico #9

We got away from the city for a wonderfully long weekend in Malinalco. It was only a day and a half, but the time stretched the way it does when there's no TV and no internet. The town is in a little valley, and it is famous for a Mexica (Aztec) temple carved into the side of one of the surrounding mountains. The 90-minute bus ride there was striking, passing through a type of landscape that I have never seen before in Mexico: incredibly lush and green but not yet tropical--in contrast with the dry northern deserts I'm used to--and full of small farms, with their sheep, dogs, horses, donkeys.



We walked up to the temple and enjoyed not only the ruins but the beautiful views. Signs on the path were trilingual, in Spanish, English and Nahuatl (the indigenous Mexica language), but we didn't hear any of the latter during our stay. Left: A wall of a pyramid some 15 feet tall. Center: The town. Right: The mountains.

Mexico #8

Spending this summer in Mexico, again based in Mexico City. (The #8 marks the continuation of my Mexico series from 2007; this is absolutely a way of copping out on giving my blog posts creative titles.) Our address is Calle General Juan Cano 129, #202; you can actually find it on Google Maps! The apartment belongs to our friend Alma, whose class Patrick TAed last year and who is an excellent, excellent writer. She has a wikipedia page! Anyway, we're staying in an apartment left vacant by her regular tenant for the summer.

The kitchen is behind Patrick. The front door is to his right, the bedroom is to his left, and there is a den (with futon and TV) across from the bedroom. If Patrick looked up, he would see the living room. For contrast, see the photo of the hostel basement where we stayed in 2007.



The first week was not particularly eventful, but we did do a small amount of sightseeing, including a visit to the Torre Latinoamericana downtown. When it was built in the 1950s, its forty-four floors made it the tallest building in Latin America. An artist has planted a bamboo+fern garden in front of it.

If you are wondering what Mexico City looks like, here are some views from the tower. First, some taller buildings and the big park, Chapultepec. (The park's name is based on the Aztec word for grasshopper; for photos of the gorgeous late-colonial castle there, see this blog post.) Next, some shorter, more typical buildings, and the main plaza. You can glimpse mountains in the distance, which ring the city; they should be much clearer, but there's a lot of air pollution.




And just for fun, from the tower as well:

Knitting Fun

Our friends are having a baby, so when I saw this pattern for a soft and fluffy crab at knitty.com, I had to knit it for them. I'd like to say I knit it for the baby, but I don't know how much a baby can really appreciate a stuffed crab. I'm not even sure how much a couple of adults can enjoy one, but I hope that since these two are pretty cool and creative, it's an amount greater than 0. I know I've had a lot of fun making it and playing with it.

The knitty one is cute--thanks, Amber Allison (designer). I modified it somewhat, so my crab's legs aren't as fat as hers. I added a little rattle inside, too, so mine is definitely louder. Not that much louder, though; I don't want it to be annoying! Plus as you see, I have a cute hubby to go with mine.



I knit some socks, too. The yarn, Noro Kureyon, did most of the work; I bought it for its crazy colors and color changes. No, the socks do not match--or they do, but not in the typical identical twins way that socks do. The stitch is Falling Leaves, also courtesy of knitty, though I sort of improvised on the sock pattern.

I've been thinking about education a lot lately, of course, but I'm not sure what to post because so many of my ideas are so unformed, and I'm not sure how comfortable I am having a public journal of thoughts that are bound to shift and evolve, especially when those thoughts could affect my career. I will say that I am re-reading Lisa Delpit's Other People's Children, and I'm appreciating it a lot more this time around. I've also been getting into the curriculum for the Elementary Mathematics Laboratory in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Here are the Core Questions of EML (from last year's slide show):

1. What is involved in expecting complex mathematical work of every student, and enabling it?
2. How can teachers work to reverse patterns of inequity related to race, family income, language, and gender in their teaching of mathematics?
3. What does it take to build a respectful and mathematically-focused learning environment?
4. How can professional educators make the intricate and often “invisible” work of teaching available to and learnable by others?

I am excited about these questions and the opportunity to work with some really cool people this summer!

Up the Narrows

My best photo from the drive from Chicago to San Francisco. We hiked up/in/through the Virgin River, which has cut amazing canyons through Zion National Park. (All the names are Mormon.)

Patrick has some really nice photos, too, of the columbines hanging from the canyon walls, and the red rock that is so characteristic of that part of Utah. Check out his blog.

We left our nice camera at the lovely bed and breakfast, so it wouldn't get wet. I was pretty impressed by the results we got with the little point-and-shoot. And glad we left the big one behind; there were parts of the hike where I was in up to my neck, and a really excited Asian girl had to pull me through to shallower water. She was REALLY excited. It was sweet.

Up

A magical film. (The animated short at the beginning was charming, too!)