* I find myself thinking from time to time of an old Simpsons episode, from the early days (And yes, even though it feels "hipster" of me to say it, the earlier seasons WERE better: in a lot of cases, they had more heart, and they seemed to center more on family dynamics or even eternal truisms than on scoring cheap snarky political-or-social-humor-commentary points. The one where Bart sells his soul, for example, remains a favorite of mine).
Anyway. I think it's the episode where they recount Maggie's birth? And this image is at the end of the episode:
(And okay, okay, I admit the Smart But Overlooked Girl that lives in my mind imagines Lisa saying "And what am *I*? Chopped liver?")
But ignoring that: it's just a nice image. And it is one of the things that makes me slightly sad - because who am *I* "doing it" for? I don't have children; I have no one in my life that I support financially or even (I feel like) emotionally all that much.
I hate to say this, but: sometimes I feel kind of "expendable." In the sense that I *don't* have anyone depending on me in the way a child would depend on someone. (And yes, yes, I know: all the times I've griped about all my responsibilities, but that's different: most of the stuff I do, there are other people who could do it at least equally well (though in some cases, I may be the only one who gives enough of a darn to actually do the thing).
But I wonder: who am I doing it for? Sometimes "myself" feels awfully thin and small. Though really: I do push myself to do a good job because I want to be well-thought-of. And because I want to keep my job. Because as I've said countless times: I need this gig. I don't have what used to be called "F you" money (as in: if something goes too bad at your job, you look at your boss, say "f you" and walk out. Not that I'd ever say that to another person, but I could see, if I were really, really well-off, and if teaching got really, really bad, going to my chair and saying, "Just so you know, in a year I'm leaving, so you can line up my replacement now")
I mean, yes, I suppose I *am* doing it for my students, too - at least, certain ones (the guy who is super-enthusiastic about everything, the woman who apparently wants to be a professor like I am, the man who is an athlete and is super polite but ruefully said the other day after class, "wow, this is a lot of information" and I agreed with him).
But sometimes I wonder: if I had a Small Person depending on me, would I do things differently? Would I be more inspired to go to work? I don't know.
* Still reading on Père Goriot but I can see where it's probably going to "break bad" (i.e., take a sad turn). I'm up to the point where Eugène is making the rounds of the petty-aristocrats' homes, and realizing the hollowness (or at least I see it as such) of the aristocratic life: nearly all the women, it seems, married for money or property or good name, but don't really love their spouse, and apparently the husband doesn't care that much, and all the women seem to have paramours. (And an interesting thought: the word "mistress" comes easily to mind for a man with a woman-on-the-side, but there's not really a comparable term - unless you go to something like "paramour" - for women. I wonder if that's because it was, at least in our culture, a more accepted thing for men to do? I don't know).
And again, this novel makes me look at the various "classes" of people with a jaded eye: there's a hollowness and even a sliminess to the aristocrats - they have money but they are totally idle; they do not seem to use their power or talent or money for anything "for the good of society." The working-class, often they are not as "noble" as one would hope - again, a lot of them are either resentful or dull. The shopkeepers and similar tend to cheat people (the owner of the boardinghouse, she does things on the cheap as much as she can, even to the point of feeding her lodgers milk that the cat has been drinking from). And not mentioned in the novel thus far, but the "educated" class (some of them call them the "mandarins") - the group I'd probably belong to, the ones who teach and do research and occupy civil-service type posts, all that - well, in my experience and also in my reading, we can be awfully insular and even bigoted in our own ways. And there's also a whole....purity structure? I don't know what to call it. Almost a caste system where people measure their value based on metrics (ranging from how environmentally-friendly you can appear to be, to how little money you can spend, to how many obscure publications you have) that don't really mean anything. (And even what you might call the "artisan class" - the people a bit more skilled or specialized than the working-class type people, often seem to have some of the same attitudes).
I don't know what the answer is. It's probably "love individual people but be suspicious of groups as a whole" which is maybe a prejudicial position I take anyway, but. It seems every large group of people tends not to behave as lovably as individual people can.
* Ugh, gamification. Got a ResearchGate e-mail this morning saying I had an "achievement." Clicked on the link (I'm a member of ResearchGate, joined because a paper or two I needed were readily accessible that way but not through the usual databases, and I got sucked in to "adding" some of my publications).
Here it is:
I suppose also the anonymity of it bugs me: I know it's generated by a 'bot counting clicks. So it's not real. (So, to answer my question above: I'm not doing it for the ResearchGate clicks)
* As I said, I did take my quilt out (and wound up dropping it off for quilting, after finding out the longarmer would seam the backing for me for free). It was nice. One thing I like about small businesses like that, especially craft-oriented ones, is that the people there care about what you are making*. She said my quilt was "pretty" and "cute" and I do like it better even though I still think the pink I chose wasn't the "perfect" pink for it.
(*Or at least seem to, though the women at this shop are really genuinely interested)
I don't get enough of that kind of interaction in my life, I think: where someone is interested in what I'm doing, not because it will advance them in some way (like: talking about research with colleagues and one wants in on the project, though that's less common any more) or where there's one-upping going on (oh, ugh, is that ever a workplace thing). It's just nice to have someone look at something you made and go "Oh, I like that! It's pretty!" and she also helped me pick out a backing - pulling bolts off the shelf that she thought might go (I found one I liked, but in the end went with a darker pink marbled fabric that she had pulled out, because it picked up the darker pinks and the sort of cranberry color in the top, and it really looked better in natural light than the flowered fabric I was considering).
While in some ways I'm glad I don't live in a more populous area like my parents do (the traffic, the crowds at stores*, the general attitudes, the noise, the higher levels of crime), I also miss more of those nice small businesses where you can go in and have a pleasant interaction with the people who work there, and if you shop there a lot, they get to know who you are....Again, I kind of wish we had a Knit Night here (though I also know that depending on when it was, I might not go all that often...maybe a Saturday afternoon "drop in with your project" would be a more likely thing for me. But then again: no, I am not up to trying to organize one, I don't know enough people who do crafts and I don't have any pull about "venues")
(*though perhaps ironically, any given grocery store in their town is less-crowded because there are more choices. Here, you just don't go to the wal-mart at a busy time, or at least I don't)
1 comment:
Yes, the early seasons of The Simpsons ARE better. So there, Internet.
Post a Comment