Saturday, August 21, 2010

freedom

I got a new bike today. Well, not new, but new to me. It happened by accident, drifted into my life by chance and at no cost to me. It's my first mountain bike, and it's so light, and smooth, and lovely. I can sit down the whole way and it doesn't feel uncomfortable.

I soar in the streets, I hum with nature, I dance. There's something about biking. I think it's partly the act of biking itself: the feeling of flying, the world passing by like silent memories, the whirlwind of colors, sounds, and shapes. But, for me, it's also the entering of spaces where cars cannot fit, being able to swerve into the corners and shadows. This is how I live my life, noticing opportunities others don't see, exploring the tiny unventured paths only to find treasure.

  

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

weaving

"Please share your story."

I have a million things on my mind, lost in a sea of transition, and he wants my story.

But he is one of the people I respect most in the whole world and he is a major reason I have been a successful graduate student. I used to look at his online picture, read his materials, wonder what he was like. Now I am one of his top students.

I try to ignore his request at first. I went about my day, but it was always in the back of my mind. My story weaves itself constantly anyway, but his request added color and richness.

Then, at the right moment, I write my story. I read his and give my impressions. I attach both. My story is personal and I have a tiny moment of doubt. I click send.

He wrote back last night with his comments. His words give me the balance I need; that's why he's such a great mentor.

Writing is an awesome process.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

a new hat

Today I attended an all-day workshop to teach me how to teach. Teaching is a lot like counseling--you meet students at their level, you provide structure in the first meeting but remain flexible, but there seems to be a fundamental difference.

As a therapist, I consider myself empowerment-focused. I try to neutralize the inherent power deferential between myself and the client. I enter their world, and we collaborate to find solutions. Minimizing the power difference helps clients find their own answers.

In the world of teaching, power is different, perhaps because my job is to help people master concepts, perhaps because I will evaluate them on how well they do it. I think also keep hearing that for undergraduate classes, a great deal of structure and boundaries are needed. It is important to establish myself as a professional right off the bat, thereby increasing rather than decreasing the power deferential. (For grad students it is different.)

But I'll probably still sneak some empowerment-focused activities into my undergrad teaching, teaching how to fish and so forth. This is my first semester as the primary instructor.

I'm excited about wearing this new hat. I think it will look good on me.

Monday, August 9, 2010

Two worlds

I have lived in two cultures for as long as I can remember. In the sixth grade, a classmate called me Saddam Hussain's little sister. My Iranian identity went into hiding after that, although it remained an important part of me. I feared people finding out, so I taught myself to be an invisible minority, the ambiguously brown girl. The journey to becoming who I am now, someone who is so proud of being an Iranian woman that she wears it on her neck for all to see, is long and a story for another day. My background no doubt has an impact on who I am and what form my activism takes. I am more convinced now than ever that there is great benefit in spreading awareness about Iranian women's and human rights struggles. I want to discuss this issue more with people and I want to write about it. Spreading awareness to induce collaboration, not a rescue mission, because I think people have more power now than ever. Grassroots efforts can become worldwide collaborations, as long as the individuals continue to work together and people don't lose site of the grassroots essence. Three images released in the Vietnam War changed Americans forever and ultimately ended the war.  If a military strike on Iran does happen, people, just ordinary people, do have the power of change. Especially now, as the recent Gaza incident shows, international activists and outrage can produce change as well. It may not be significant change in some eyes, but not all change is revolutionary and immediate.

And this inducing collaboration, especially among English speakers, is where I see myself in this movement, among English speakers.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

some time

sometimes she tiptoes, because she has to.
she walks between the shadows.

sometimes she has to dim her light.

but,
in the smoothness of connection
the gentle arch of a kiss
the madness of desire flames set her free.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

lost in transcription

Words have been swirling around my head all day, touching my heart, dancing all around and about. But they aren't my words--they are the recorded voices of people I interviewed, activists.  The interviews usually run a little over an hour. It takes anywhere from 1-6 hours to transcribe one interview. I honestly don't know what makes some longer and some shorter to transcribe. It's not the length of interview, or even the language. Yet somehow, the time it takes to transcribe varies. A lot.

This is one part of research that can bog people down. The tedious, seemingly mind-numbing aspects that seem so simple and yet are impressively time-consuming. I spent the entire day and most of the evening, sitting in the same position at a desk, transcribing one and a half interviews. And I will do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and probably at least two full days after that.

I don't deny that it's tedious but any job can be that way at times. I think the secret is studying or doing something you love, something you are passionate about, the topic that always has you thinking and musing and creating and wondering. It took me a long time and a twisted journey to recognize mine but I am grateful I finally did.

Plus, the process of transcription is in and of itself enjoyable to me. The words become a part of me, in a way they hadn't before, as if they are absorbed into me through osmosis of the fingers. I love that feeling. I cry when I listen, at times, I laugh with joy. The hardest part is starting, once I am there for even five minutes, I am hooked.

I wish I had my pastels and sketch pad. I really feel like drawing in the bright, bold colors of summer passion.

Monday, August 2, 2010

A timeline

I lost my brother at the age of 6, and went from being an outgoing extrovert to a reserved introvert. The number of words I spoke decreased, but the number and quality of the words I wrote soared. I kept a diary, I wrote essays, poetry, whatever I felt like. I won awards and class contests and had things published in the city paper before I was eighteen. For papers, I generally waited until the last minute, drank some coffee, and stayed up all night or sometimes woke up in wee hours of morning. I got some absurd pleasure from being able to do it at the last minute and still get A's. It was effortless so I never really appreciated it.

That has all changed since I started my PhD. A paper I thought was good got torn to shreds. I had to rewrite almost every sentence for another one for publication. Reviewing over 100 sources, then 200 sources, for a literature review. It's been rough at times but it's given me a new and humbling appreciation for writing. I'm so glad I have had to work for it, because the truth is, when I first started my PhD I wasn't ready to write a book and now I think I am.

I don't know what it will do, maybe nothing, but I hope it can help the Iranian women's movement. All I can do is try my best, and use all the knowledge and skills I have learned in the last few years to make it as accurate to participants' experiences as possible, as authentic as I can. (In that sense, being an activist makes me further driven to find out truth from participants' perspectives, to be scientific.) A well-written book, using the skills I have accumulated in the last few years, to engage the audience: non-academics.

A critic within has developed in terms of my writing, and I thought for a while this was sad. This systematic little bugger is sometimes overwhelming, but I'm finally striking a balance between her and the passionate, free-flowing writing that pours out naturally. The one that has no logical structure. It's the tension between science and art.

I need to catch up on reflections in my research log today, and that has consumed most of my morning. I suppose for some it's best to do these day by day. I am constantly reflecting, and it takes time for ideas to cement, to take shape in my mind. It is only through a long internal process that I develop confidence of my ideas, and myself. So I may require a delay in writing reflections. Or maybe I'm trying to give myself a free pass for procrastinating? It can always be that.

All I have done, since graduate school, since I moved here, has prepared me for writing this book. From the early days when I figured out I could better express myself through writing than speaking. I will continue to help as others I respect ask me. I am grateful for them, as they help me define my role in this movement. My missing link was my connection to my people, and I'm fostering that now too.

So today, peacefully writing reflections, while eating pomegranate seeds from Trader Joe's. Best fruit on earth.