Detroit, Dearborn, and an Exercise in esprit d'escalier
I had orientation on Thursday. My favorite part was each of the professors introducing themselves and getting to see them interact (the highlight being the threat of a fistfight over whether papers should be in APA or MLA). It also clearly demonstrated how diverse a field LIS is. There was an archivist, another who was more interested in data analysis, yet another with a focus on urban libraries, etc. I would love to talk further with the one whose dissertation was on pleasure reading: public and private (the latter is simply the reader and a book, a woman observed reading Twilight on a train--with a piece of white paper meant to conceal to cover--is an example of the former). At this point, I'm between Academic Libraries or Archives (my History background makes the latter especially attractive, and the possibility of acquiring a double Master's in History and Library Science).
Classes start in a week and a half. I made a few acquaintances and attended a mixer at a nearby bar. I'm looking forward to it, but there are a few things that reflect poorly on the institution, the most prominent of which is the requirement to demonstrate basic computer skills. (One obtained a Bachelor's degree how? Unless it was at least 15 years ago, this is a ridiculous blanket obligation.) The presentation on the website points out this exam is increasingly becoming a requirement for university freshmen and high school students. Way to demonstrate a high regard for your university. Add to this the company that proctors the test is one with which I would not wish to be affiliated, with its devotion to attempting to spam the user.
Yesterday Ryan's family took his grandfather out to dinner for his birthday. We knew it was going to be a German place. Remembering the Polish restaurant we went to some time ago, Ryan brought along a lunch box with some Earth Balance and an ice pack in the worst case scenario of getting a dry baked potato. Luckily, the options were a little better than that: iceberg salad, sauerkraut, and red cabbage.
After that we headed to the Arab-American Museum, as we were already in Dearborn. His grandfather's lady friend opted to stay in the van. She politely declined until the very end; I may have been the only one to hear her lightheartedly declare, "I'm prejudiced and don't want to give these people any pennies." Never mind that we had finagled free passes.
To be honest, it wasn't all that informative for the most part. A good deal of it was devoted to the message, "Hey, contemporary Arab-Americans are just like everyone else; they are a unique group with a few different customs, but are as diverse as any other ethnic group in this country." Admirable, but not all that interesting beyond some innovative museum displays. The best parts were the portions detailing the different waves of immigration and the political unrest that led these emigrations. This was apolitical and tended to focus on individual experiences and put human faces on expatriation. Unfortunately, it was around this time that the rest of the group found us and told us it was time to leave for cake.
I don't particularly like airing dirty laundry, but I'll make an exception. Since no names are involved nor will I accept the excuse of being set in one's ways for blatant racism (it's ageist and a poor excuse), I feel comfortable in getting this off my chest.
Ugly traits in families are nearly always surprising. I thought her one offhanded comment would be it (and an uncle's insistence on saying A-rab, which was the most polite term he used even after being politely told to knock it off). Oy. She would have gone inside had it been about "our people's" history. The two of them started on about how "they're" taking over and that their "weird writing" is provocative and indicative of isolationism and their desire to not bother learning English, etc.
Ryan and I left not long after to take care of other business. M. wished she had been so lucky.
There has to be some middle ground between ignoring this the best one can and an incredulous interrogation (in the better sense of the word). I'm fine engaging my own grandfather and his more controversial ideas. He's not offended by raised eyebrows; he loves debate and talking with people with different views, but I recognize this is not the case for everyone. It's probably best to let sleeping dogs lie, but, wow.
Classes start in a week and a half. I made a few acquaintances and attended a mixer at a nearby bar. I'm looking forward to it, but there are a few things that reflect poorly on the institution, the most prominent of which is the requirement to demonstrate basic computer skills. (One obtained a Bachelor's degree how? Unless it was at least 15 years ago, this is a ridiculous blanket obligation.) The presentation on the website points out this exam is increasingly becoming a requirement for university freshmen and high school students. Way to demonstrate a high regard for your university. Add to this the company that proctors the test is one with which I would not wish to be affiliated, with its devotion to attempting to spam the user.
Yesterday Ryan's family took his grandfather out to dinner for his birthday. We knew it was going to be a German place. Remembering the Polish restaurant we went to some time ago, Ryan brought along a lunch box with some Earth Balance and an ice pack in the worst case scenario of getting a dry baked potato. Luckily, the options were a little better than that: iceberg salad, sauerkraut, and red cabbage.
After that we headed to the Arab-American Museum, as we were already in Dearborn. His grandfather's lady friend opted to stay in the van. She politely declined until the very end; I may have been the only one to hear her lightheartedly declare, "I'm prejudiced and don't want to give these people any pennies." Never mind that we had finagled free passes.
To be honest, it wasn't all that informative for the most part. A good deal of it was devoted to the message, "Hey, contemporary Arab-Americans are just like everyone else; they are a unique group with a few different customs, but are as diverse as any other ethnic group in this country." Admirable, but not all that interesting beyond some innovative museum displays. The best parts were the portions detailing the different waves of immigration and the political unrest that led these emigrations. This was apolitical and tended to focus on individual experiences and put human faces on expatriation. Unfortunately, it was around this time that the rest of the group found us and told us it was time to leave for cake.
I don't particularly like airing dirty laundry, but I'll make an exception. Since no names are involved nor will I accept the excuse of being set in one's ways for blatant racism (it's ageist and a poor excuse), I feel comfortable in getting this off my chest.
Ugly traits in families are nearly always surprising. I thought her one offhanded comment would be it (and an uncle's insistence on saying A-rab, which was the most polite term he used even after being politely told to knock it off). Oy. She would have gone inside had it been about "our people's" history. The two of them started on about how "they're" taking over and that their "weird writing" is provocative and indicative of isolationism and their desire to not bother learning English, etc.
Ryan and I left not long after to take care of other business. M. wished she had been so lucky.
There has to be some middle ground between ignoring this the best one can and an incredulous interrogation (in the better sense of the word). I'm fine engaging my own grandfather and his more controversial ideas. He's not offended by raised eyebrows; he loves debate and talking with people with different views, but I recognize this is not the case for everyone. It's probably best to let sleeping dogs lie, but, wow.