In the background all I can hear is a mixture of clapping, charlie brown style 'wahn wahn, wahn wahn" voices, and the partner yelling at the television screen. Someone else's wife is speaking about... something. Every so often the partner runs into the computer room with this look of....Bewilderment? Astonishment?
"Why aren't you watching this? Why? Are you hearing this?"

Yeah, I am hearing it.

Last year I did a directed reading on narrative and historiography. Our thoughts tended to wander away from the readings, and we would pick up on whatever tangents and unformed thoughts that popped into our minds. Somehow, the question of historical fiction came up one class, and we discussed a letter to the editor found in the local newspaper that referred to Gone With the Wind as a legitimate source for information about slavery and black/white relationships.

After vomiting in the garbage can over the thought that someone actually thought this statement to be true, we picked up on that thread and discussed how fiction does shape our understanding of reality, both past and present, and future. The election of The Terminator was the second example to be used in this long and rambling discussion, and we marvelled over how all it took was the flex of an arm and the people turned out in droves. Had people really reached a point where they could not distinguish between fiction and reality?

Yes. Yes they had.

Even he cannot tell the difference.

"What a greeting! This is like winning an Oscar! ...As if I would know! Speaking of acting, one of my movies was called “True Lies.” (source)


Future Story:
did I mention that the partner and I aren't married?
(sure to include a discussion on the politics of marriage)

kiddy-piddy 

I am going to try and talk the partner into making a guest post here, but I am unsure how that will go-the partner's resistance to blogging is strong...but knowing how addictive it is, I almost am afraid that it would be somewhat like offering someone their first ciggy...not a good idea. I will have to wait and see how that one turns out.

I had a very productive day today. Sat in front of the computer for a great part of it and click, click, clicked around the internet. I found a story on New Kid on the Hallway's blog that reminded me of something that happened to my mother last year. I thought I would share it, just to let you know that sometimes stories do have happy endings.

*Clears throat*

It was a hard year, last year. While it would take too long to sketch out exactly everything that happened, I can tell you that the year involved sudden deaths, too many illnesses, and a couple of operations. For my mother, who had suffered the most because of all of these different things, insult was added to injury when she realized that she was missing all of her jewelry. Not that there were any expensive pieces of jewelry in her collection, but there were very special things that belonged to her mother, my father's mother, and a couple of other random things that had been passed down from generation to generation.

As she had just finished cleaning out the basement, she was convinced that the tin she had put the jewelry in was either thrown out, or placed in a box that she had donated to a local clothing drop-off place. Either scenario was horrible, so to make a long story short, she berated herself for days and days. As time passed she began to accept that this had happened, but was always terrified that her father-in-law would ask where X piece of jewelry was. My father's parents did not accept her into the family, at all, so for her to have lost/thrown away something that belonged to her mother-in-law would be unforgivable.

Before one of the last times that I went home before I moved, my mother called myself and siblings to announce that she had something that she needed to talk to us about. We were afraid for the worst (operation did not work, etc.) but hoped for the best (lottery?) It just so happened that this 'discussion' was going to happen the day before the grandfather's birthday.

I spent a week in mild panic, afraid of what she had to tell us. She finally did clarify (over the phone) that she was okay (and so was dad), but she would reveal no further details. On the day of the discussion the partner and I drove the two hours to my parent's house, grabbed the bags of dirty laundry from the trunk of the car (we have no shame) and went inside. The other two siblings were inside with their partners, one of whom thinks I am some dirty, damn, feminist and would scoff at me using the word partner instead of husband. We get along really well. The other partner, uhm, we will keep quiet on that one...

Anyway, my father decided to go down to the basement and bring up some extra chairs to sit on, because we were running out of room to sit down, and were eventually expecting more house guests. After he put down the chair he turned slowly around. I didn't notice at first, but there were tears in his eyes that eventually managed to spill over. I figured it out right away, and I too started to feel tears. (the one thing that I have picked up from my father is the amazing ability to cry at things...it doesn't take much)

Eventually my younger sister noticed that something was up, as my father, who is increasingly showing visible signs of his age and the stress of the previous year, was beaming from behind his tears in a way that we have not seen for a long time.

Clutched behind his back, as he called my mother's name, was the bag of jewelry (not the tin, as she had thought). For some reason it had been put underneath the cushion of the chair, and lay there, forgotten.

My grandfather was drunk by this point, having arrived at least a whole half hour prior to this event, so he didn't really have all that much to say, except "holy smoked and dying catfish," in a thick Scandinavian accent. I don't think he really understood how much self-disgust losing the jewelry caused my mother.


Anyway, here's hoping that New Kid on the Hallway has similar luck finding her missing memories.

Last night was the first lonely night in the new place of residence.

I was so lonely last night that today I decided to play hooky from a Most Special Event being held right now.

I know that doesn't really make sense--avoiding people right when I am feeling the most lonely, but filling the role of FW after last night would make me spiral into an even greater pit of sadness. Listening to everyone getting excited for the new school year and talking about classes, and students, and readings that are assigned...painfully reminds me that I don't have school this year, filled with very exciting readings, classes, and discussions. Woe is me. Get me back in a classroom asap.

But right now I am off on a task of picking out some new books that I get to buy. Any suggestions? I am thinking fiction, but I would go with something else if recommended.

"Calling All Academic Bloggers".:

link via:

A Delicate Boy


now is the time for you all to shine. i would love to read the finished result...the really nice thing is that they (the people putting out the call) are open to the author writing from whatever name is chosen, and from different backgrounds.

I am curious to hear what people think about this READ ME I found through a search on the whole concept of blogs.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, as promised, I am adding links to this post of things I have found on advice about blogging etc.

How Not To Get Fired Because Of Your Blog, with link to the Web Fire Escape
I am sure that we all are aware of what happens when your blog is a bit too public. (Does a Washingtonienne blog reference mean anything?)

Here is an Excerpt from the weblog handbook, written by Rebecca Blood
(I have broken one of the rules from the handbook (editing content) but have noted areas where things are changed. There is nothing more frustrating then when you are commenting on someone's post (especially if things have gotten hostile) and they change/delete the message to such a point where your questions no longer are relevent.

Rana has some great ideas as well, listed in the comments section of this post.

Ok, I will be back with more later.

JImbo asked for more details on the first event as the FW.

It was interesting.

I solved the clothing problem by just keeping on what I had worn downtown during the day, as did the partner.

We walked into the area and were directed to the table where row upon row of name tags glistened in the sun. Partner picked up appropriate name tag, listing name, department, and position. Partner then handed me one to put on. Right. Thanks. I resisted the urge to write in big letters "Faculty Wife" by shoving the name tag in the back pocket of my jeans.

We went to the room that was filled with the new faculty (plus vip)

Everyone we ran into was 'very' concerned that we had not yet picked up the glass of liquid courage and-oh wait-- I will describe some of it as if it was a passage from a (bad) book

"that is the only way to get through these sorts of things" someone whispered from behind. I quickly turned around and a pair of sharp blue eyes met with my own.

I said, "yes, maybe I will take up alcoholism, it seems like the vice of choice at these events" We both laughed a little, linked arms, and she led me away to the drink-laden table.

No, that didn't happen, but it would make for an interesting story....the scandal of it all...

Anyway, there really isn't all that much more to report. There were Important Speakers talking about how Important the Students were (because of the money they inject into the university) and the usual speeches about how great the university is and how great it will be in the future.

All in all, it was pretty painless. Except for when the partner introduced me to someone and told them that I blogged. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Please don't do that again partner.

We snuck out of there early and went home.

Almost 100% painfree.


In other news, having been a convert to the Bodum coffee press for some time now, imagine my joy when I discovered a travelling mug bodum. If I could only scrounge up the extra ten dollars to buy it, I could save on coffee costs in the long run, and never again have to drink crappy coffee again.

Instead of laying on my bed, staring at the wall, which is my instinct when I am feeling cranky, I thought I would post again and let people who did wish me good luck on the first faculty 'event' know that it went well, and was pretty much what I anticipated.

For some reason the partner is unsure whether it would be a good idea to incorporate .: Snoop Dogg - Tha Shizzolator :. in the class on monday.

(type a webpage in the space provided).

All of the new students are arriving as I type.

Downtown is just too much for me at this point.

I think I will be staying in the house tonight.


If I see one more trucker hat that is adorning the head of a BMW-driving 18 year old...

I feel compelled to write this long and lengthy response to all of the comments I received on a post I wrote the other day. I am still unsure if I even want to, as it feels like I am participating in some sort of ‘test’- a test of my blog, my intellectual capabilities, and my validity as a voice that comments on experiences related to the academy. Will I pass? Will I?

Anonymous:

Do you think that I have not considered the concerns that you have raised? Do you have an image of me in your mind as someone in this subordinate position, who, alas, does not have the intelligence to see the ease with which one is able to slip into some socially constructed role? (Faculty Wife, African American, whatever other example you want to throw in...)

Do I really “seem to be overly accepting of this role”? Are you basing that observation on what has only been a handful of posts, and on the content of those posts? Are you visiting other blogs that discuss the academy to critique what they are saying about their experiences in the academy—how it is hard on their health, their relationships, their level of stress, their confidence? (Invisible Adjunct is another example I could use)

Do you challenge their concerns about making mistakes in front of the provost, or the dean, or the new academic that is ‘hot’ at the moment? How about their concerns on how to dress for an event?

The reason for me asking these questions is that it is easy for me to imagine (but I am willing to accept that I am mistaken) that you, anonymous, were flipping through different blogs, saw the words “faculty wife”, groaned, and decided to use your rapier wit and intelligence to enlighten the sophmoric twit who was daring to pass commentary on this hallowed institution, even if it was related to this person’s (and the partner’s) life.

This leads me back to the feelings of being tested, or better yet, reviewed.

I was unaware that blogs went through a process of blind peer reviews, but why not? I am unable to identify if you are a peer, on any level, but I am inclined to believe that you are an academic.


Must I upload my CV to qualify as valid voice? As a feminist? As someone associated with academics? Do I need to present a long list of my own personal accomplishments? The overall narrative of me?

Or, should I just be keeping quiet?

Or, is the purpose for me to think a bit more deeply about it?

I can't quite tell.

I did not accept or occupy the title of faculty wife in the sense that I heard it, liked it, and thought it would be ‘cute’ or ‘funny’ to start a blog under that title. Rather, as I mentioned in one of my first posts, it was applied by Academics (and I have heard many Academics use the term) to other people (and myself) who were attached (through relationships) to Academics.

I was first called it after the partner was offered a tenure-track position, although I guess I had been ‘acting’ as one for the previous four years while I was enrolled at another university for my undergraduate degree (three years the partner was a phd student, one year the partner was a lecturer).

Edited:
[removed because of boring content]

I could go into detail about what it is that sets me apart from the partner, or how I am unique and special in my own way, but what good comes about by that? Why would anyone assume that I am not, especially after so few posts?



I do want to write more about blogger protocal (if any), about the question of whether blogs should be judged in the same capacity as books, articles, etc, about the example used about Mall Security and Responses to Mall Security, and some of the other points, but I need to step away from the computer for a bit.



Edited to Add:

I think I feel defensive because I have disclosed information about myself to you, anon, while not receiving that same openess from you.

At the same time, lying behind my knee-jerk reaction is a voice that continues to ask some of the same questions you have posed about why I am bothering with this blog

Furthermore, even though I am fixating on your anonymous status, I do understand that sometimes that is how it happens, and I am guilty of doing the same thing on other people's blogs when something particularily offensive is stated by a member of a community of blogs.

However, I don't know if that gives license to call out The Will To Blog's fiance (who posted a comment about it just being a "fricken blog") on making an 'erudite' comment. I don't know what that is, damn it, but it doesn't sound very nice in the sentence it has been placed in. Almost sarcastic, or something, but I am not quite sure.

Sorry, I am cranky, my best friend just left and I am dealing with not only being in a new city, but a new country and culture where I have to wear tags at faculty orientation that demonstrate that I do not belong--I am just an attachment, and not someone Very Important to talk to. Yes, there are many people who I really do enjoy being around, and want to spend time with. However, I would argue until I am blue in the face that there are people who do treat me differently because of my non/status.

Does this not also happen among those who do belong to the academy directly? Is it a stretch to refer to the hierarchy in place at conferences between those who went 'Ivy' and those who did not? Or the greater respect granted to those who publish with the "best" press? Or the snide comments that are made about someone's lack of publishing prowess? Or the school that they went to?

Maybe I am mistaken, and these sorts of things never happen.

This site looks interesting:
PhDweblogs

link from sharleen mondal

Very frustrating day so far. The one Very Important Thing I was supposed to do today (filling out forms and making phone calls) is impossible to do because they (the forms) have mysteriously vanished.

I have a sneaking suspicion that TP moved them to a 'safe spot' during a cleaning spree yesterday. Why do those 'safe spots' always manage to be too safe? (in other words impossible to find)

If only TP would call so that I could figure this out.

A massive headache is threatening to hit me in a few minutes.

I am feeling a bit put off by one of the comments I received yesterday about the whole phenomenon of the faculty wife. I know I shouldn't care, but maybe the points raised by anonymous resonate a bit too much with me. What am I doing writing about being a faculty wife? Shouldn't I be doing my own research, or writing about something that will set me apart from the rest of the world, or at least contributing somehow to the greater good of society? Yes, of course I should. But circumstances that I do not care to elaborate on are preventing me (temporarily) from some of my goals.

Further, the relationship that the partner and I share is such that it is my turn to act as the support person, to help the partner acclimate to a new place of employment, new city, new set of stresses, and new set of goals. Not that we keep a scorecard of deeds done for the other, or anything like that, but we do try to work like a team (a strategy that works most of the time).

Lastly, I am in a new city without any friends. Need I say more?

I thought about discontinuing this blog (well, to be honest, that has been a recurring thought from Day 1, for some of the exact reasons identified by anonymous) but for the moment have put aside that compulsion in favor of writing a self-indulgent mini-rant.

A life of one's own

Today I looked at graduate schools and grants/scholarships available for next year.

Maybe in about ten years, if blogs are still around or if the world hasn't blown up, I can start a blog called "the spousal hire."


Just Kidding.

I still haven't found anything to wear to this faculty reception, but am a bit less stressed out over it. I will be charming, and outgoing and...and...not shy and will be able to articulate proper answers to questions, even those that make my innards churn.

Why, oh why, did a pimple burst through my skin and choose this moment to shine, shine, shine?

As if I need to appear any younger/immature/insecure than I am.

Wish me luck.

The partner (hereafter TP) isn't quite sure about this whole blog thing yet. Those are almost the exact words, although to quote verbatim: "I'm not too sure about this whole blog thing. It seems a bit much to me." To tell the truth, TP attempts to stay away from blogs. I have started a number of different blogs for TP, complete with all of the html formatted (pre-blogger facelift days) but to no avail. Tp resists. Even though TP has begun to read some of the blogs that I have linked, there is not even a glimmer of hope that yet another addiction will be shared in this household.

Oh well. Blogs are like assholes....everyone has one.

CNN.com - Falwell law school to teach faith�and law - Aug 18, 2004: "Falwell law school to teach faith and law"


I am not a faculty wife to someone at this school. Nor will I ever be.

Thank God for Ms. Mentor

The Chronicle: Career Network: 04/26/2002: "The New Faculty Wife"

However, even though the "Angel in the House" may be no more, remnants remain, lurking around every corner.

At least for this NFW.

edited to add:

here is another bit of advice for the faculty wife:

(is this for real?)

"As a faculty wife in the university setting, you have the opportunity to take this "Christmas Gathering" approach and use it to reach other couples or faculty wives with the gospel in a relaxed holiday atmosphere." (source)

oh, and there is more:

"Faculty wife. What do you think of when you see those words? Some read it and feel boxed in, while others feel honored and privileged." (source)

right.

I also found some strange site where the faculty wife comes home and gets spanked by the professor. (source) (not 100% work safe)

I wonder if I am committing some grand faux pas by placing all of the people in my blogroll in the same blogroll. Surely there must be some hierarchy in order?

In the near future I am going to upload some of the wonderful and fun links that have been placed in the 'favorites' file on the computer...such as Rate my Professor.com

*If you happen to be an academic or professor: do not go there unless you are secure in your teaching abilities, or have a thick skin. Students can be cruel and unforgiving.

(Well, unless you want to laugh at what students are saying about your nemesis in the department, or within your area of research. )

If you are a student somewhere: click away....

What to wear?

What does one wear to a new faculty reception? Looking through my closet leads me to believe a trip to the mall may be in order.

Oh.

Right.

No money.

Ok, back to the closet.

Hmmm. I am guessing the S&M gear, while suitable for encouraging one's partner to finish the dissertation (you have been a naughty, naughty ABD---now write), is not appropriate dress to meet the president of the university.

Oh god, the knots are already forming in my stomach.

Bring on the advil and the pink chalky healing liquids.

Just so you know, I find the whole "faculty wife" moniker so offensive that I taste vomit in mouth every time I hear it.

I do not recall the first time I heard it--but one of the early times was when it was being applied to an ABD (male) who was partnered up with a PhD in a tenure-track position. He freely used the term to describe himself, yet the shame he felt would cloud his eyes. (as if life was not complete without the PhD...I mean without the book contract for the dissertation...I mean the post-doc...I mean the tenure track position...I mean being granted tenure...I mean without receiving that grant...I mean without the administrative position...etc etc etc)


I am convinced he was attempting to show that he wasn't "emasculated" by the position he found himself in. In any case, he sure cooked one fine meal (and kept a neat house!)



tongue in cheek, my friends, tongue in cheek.

Anyway, the faculty wife comments began for me once my partner had secured a tenure track position. I believe I was sitting with a room full of female academics when the attention suddenly turned on me (me=student, different university, and no--that is not how the partner and I met).

"How does it feel to be the faculty wife now, X?"

The walls in the room began to close in on me, as a cacophony of laughter and giggles reached my ears. Make it stop, make it stop...good lord make it stop. I thought you were feminists...I thought you were nice...I thought you were committed to anti-oppressive work.. why are you using heterosexist, exclusive terminolgy that dennotes a state-sanctioned relationship (depending on the country and the state/province/mood of the powers that be) between a man and a woman. At least have the common courtesty to call me a faculty 'partner'. Yeah, I know, it doesn't carry the same je ne sais quoi....


Oh, I know they were teasing, and that they meant well, but I cannot shake it from my head.

I am a faculty wife.

How the hell did this happen?

Edgar Allen Poe--how did you know?

As the summer winds to a close one would think that the partner and I would be spending as much time as possible outdoors.

One would also think that the partner and I would be taking advantage of the anonymity granted to us because it is a new city and new school year (no students stopping us on the street yet--oh the joy, the bliss) by getting riproaring drunk and acting like fools (simply because we could, not because we would want to).

Wrong.

The partner goes every day to the 'new' office (as of yet unfurnished...but scribblingwoman provides a link to advice on how to furnish the office for cheap) to prepare for the classes. The few times I have managed to drag us both to the water the partner bring books and papers and sits alone on the sand while I splash like fool, all alone. Not that I am bitter, I do understand, but academics are an obsessive breed.

*******************************************************************************
Ok, just got off the phone with the partner, and have been informed that this blog has already been discovered (damn, I forgot to clear the history last night before I went to bed). I have also been informed that the faculty wife duties are to begin earlier than anticipated--we are to 'hang out' with another academic and faculty wife in the next couple of days. I have been assured that they will like me and I will like them. At some point in the night I will be asked when I am doing my PhD--a question that is both flattering (I guess--or maybe it is like an alcoholic looking for validation of their own illness through the drinking of another) and annoying.

When..when...when.

the question beats through my head, even though I attempt to kill it daily.


Almost,
but not quite,
like the tell-tale heart.

Why, you may ask, if I seem so disgruntled(?) about the wonderful world of academics do I have a long list of academic blogs on the side?

I cannot escape it.

I am slowly being sucked in.

It truly is an illness.


I also *gasp* am addicted to reading the chronicle of higher education.


Oh, and no. My partner does not have a blog.


Yet.

Hi.

Having noticed a proliferation of blogs written by academics, I wondered where the voices of the (so-called) faculty wives were hiding.* Blogroll after blogroll I have searched for these hidden bearers of burden, but to no avail.

I know they exist.

You too can find proof that they exist.

Simply go to your local PhD-granting institution.

Find an academic department of your choice. Look for an unused dusty corner, or trip your way down into the dark and dank basement that smells of rot, and flip through some dissertations (odd, is it not, how it seems like the spine of this "work" remains intact?). You can generally find evidence within the first few pages.

I think my thank-you is on page iv..."To X and my family" Hey, wait a minute. There is no thank-you (I just pulled it off the shelf where it was pressing some summer flowers)! It is only a dedication...*sigh* oh well.


Anyway, my partner is just about to begin this new job...something called a ten-year track or something.

Just kidding--I have picked up the jargon, trust me, you have no choice as a faculty wife. I just can't even begin to discuss the whole tenure thing..not yet.

That will come soon enough (the discussion, not the tenure)

My first faculty wife duty is fast-approaching. Wish me luck!








*Not to be non-inclusive, I must point out that the term "faculty wife" has been used to refer to both men and women within earshot of yours truly. Because of pesky little things like gender roles, I am inclined to believe that it is more of an insult (rather than an expectation) if you are a male faculty wife...but what do I know? I do not have a PhD in these sorts of things, so my opinion doesn't count.

that sounded bitter, and as if things are all bad.

oops.