Having a geriatric (over 35) pregnancy means that this old lady is eligible for extra testing, including a genetic test that was just made commercially available in the last few years that analyzes fetal DNA in a maternal blood sample to look for chromosomal anomalies (and can tell you sex). I, of course, opted to do this test for the new baby and therefore got to learn the sex of the baby in the first trimester! (it’s another boy) Since I will be parenting two boys, it seemed really important that I go see the movie Boyhood this summer. It was a beautiful experience and almost better than any 3D movie to see the same characters age over the course of three hours. It seemed unreal and a little disconcerting at first, because I’m so used to seeing clearly different actors, rather than the same, aging face. It was exactly what a movie should be, there’s no huge conflict set-up or revelation. It’s just a collection of events that illustrate the poignant mundanity of life. It was funny and light and every moment seemed perfectly written. I watched Top of the Lake afterward and it just seemed like an unnecessary addition to my viewing life after seeing Boyhood.
My current small boy becomes more amazing by the week. Here’s a sampling of the funny words that make up his vocabulary:
In = orange
Peem= pink
Yun= one
Bree= three
Bouf= four (this is the funniest one to us)
Ives= five
Eaten= eight
Abreem=open
Mambers= numbers
Triangle= triangle or rectangle
Bimand= diamond
He now wears his glasses most of the day and at his last eye appointment, I was told that his lazy eye is improving and he might not need surgery (but his vision is getting worse ☹)! It was kind of a big deal because for the past six months I've been the failure parent that can’t get her son to wear glasses or a patch, and is lazy about the drops. Parenting success!
Hydrating is serious business!
He's so short.
What a ham.
He owns the pool (2 feet deep around the edges).
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Ferguson
What to say about Ferguson?
It’s been on my mind nearly every minute of the day, and it perplexes me
that so little is written about it in my facebook feed by the very political/post-happy virtual acquaintances. I
mean, I would kind of expect the guy who gets really into the
Israeli-Palestinian conflict to have something
to repost about the state of race relations in America today, but I guess it’s
too concrete? Not abstract and distant
enough? Confusing to deal with as an
American citizen? I don’t know, man. I know that I lived in MO for the first 13
years of my life, and racism was a part of the cultural fabric—all the white
kids moving to share seats when our school bus unexpectedly had to pick up kids
in public housing; my nascent self staring in the mirror and wondering what it
would be like if I was really black, because even though I couldn’t fully
understand or articulate why, I knew that it must be unimaginably unfortunate;
everyone in town referring to the local Piggly Wiggly as the “nig pig”. I guess it’s why I am so confused as to why
there is the pretense of discussing the “facts”. Did Brown rob a convenience store? Did he start an altercation? Who cares?
It completely detracts from any kind of critical analysis of the larger
picture—the role of race in these authority-citizen encounters and what it
means to be black in cities like St. Louis and Chicago--cities that experienced
an influx of poor black people from the south who were subsequently
systemically disenfranchised and quarantined in their new homes. I kind of feel like every US citizen should
have to go to Mississippi for a week and immerse themselves in our shared
history of oppression and racism. At
least Mississippians, an artifact of a horrendous and commonly acknowledged
history, now have to deal with this racial history openly. People in MO and IL don’t, because, after
all, they aren’t Mississippi! They were
lands of acceptance and settlement! I
guess I’ll just quote some words from MacArthur genius grant winner and
personal intellectual hero, David Simon, on the missteps of the police department (his book, The Corner, was the ultimate distillation
of race in America for me. So much better even than The Wire, because of his voice and direct analysis of poverty, drugs and being black in America.):
In Baltimore, I covered many police shootings, most of them
necessary, if tragic, and a few that were indeed questionable or dubious, if
equally tragic. But in all of those incidents, a police department that
remained fully accountable to its citizenry never failed to do one basic thing
when a life had been taken: It stood by the body. All of those officers who
took a life owned both their authority and their responsibility. They were
identified before their public, and the sunlight of public knowledge was never
denied to any moment when an agent of the state, as a matter of personal
deliberation and presumed professional necessity, ended the life of a fellow
citizen. This was elemental, and democratic to its core. If our country is to
cease its drift toward a militarized police state, it is elemental still.
And beyond the democratic imperative, one other practical cost to Ferguson of your professional failure has yet to be tallied, but is certain and fixed: Your department, in order to solve crimes and maintain order, is dependent on the cooperation of witnesses — fellow citizens willing to trust in the process of arrest and prosecution, and in their own personal safety should they properly contribute to that process. Yet by offering up the dishonorable claim that your department, and all the authority of the supporting law enforcement and judicial communities of Missouri, cannot protect a single officer from a series of unsubstantiated threats, or that the officer might be more vulnerable to public ridicule than, say, Mr. Brown was vulnerable to actual police gunfire, you have made this question entirely relevant:
If Ferguson police can’t protect one of their own — a fellow officer who is armed, who is allied with an entire department of armed comrades, who are themselves buttressed by their jurisdiction’s prosecutorial arm, who have the full weight of the law at hand in support of that officer — then how in hell are they going to protect me when I go down to the courthouse and testify? How can they ask me, an ordinary citizen with no armament, alliance or authority, to stand up in open court and be identified?
And beyond the democratic imperative, one other practical cost to Ferguson of your professional failure has yet to be tallied, but is certain and fixed: Your department, in order to solve crimes and maintain order, is dependent on the cooperation of witnesses — fellow citizens willing to trust in the process of arrest and prosecution, and in their own personal safety should they properly contribute to that process. Yet by offering up the dishonorable claim that your department, and all the authority of the supporting law enforcement and judicial communities of Missouri, cannot protect a single officer from a series of unsubstantiated threats, or that the officer might be more vulnerable to public ridicule than, say, Mr. Brown was vulnerable to actual police gunfire, you have made this question entirely relevant:
If Ferguson police can’t protect one of their own — a fellow officer who is armed, who is allied with an entire department of armed comrades, who are themselves buttressed by their jurisdiction’s prosecutorial arm, who have the full weight of the law at hand in support of that officer — then how in hell are they going to protect me when I go down to the courthouse and testify? How can they ask me, an ordinary citizen with no armament, alliance or authority, to stand up in open court and be identified?
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Well, hello!
I am currently on a renewing staycation at a fancy hotel in downtown San Jose. It is the last night of sleeping in for the summer (work on Monday), and I decided that it was mandatory self-care. I want to be air-conditioned (San Jose has been Hot, Hot, Hot this summer), free from childcare duties, able to stay in bed under the covers and unbothered until 11 am, and the recipient of food delivered to my bed. I’ve been here for 2 hours and I’m already bored—how can this be? So far, I have: purchased $5 soda from the minibar, eaten $10 crackers from the minibar, called Natan to request food delivery, watched a documentary on Jimi Hendrix, started a forensic files marathon, filled ice bucket, thoroughly examined room service menu/prices (ridiculous). Now, I guess I’m back to blogging.
I had such high hopes for summer blogging and fun, and then those hopes were dashed—mostly because I’m going to have another baby (!), and the first trimester was this summer, which meant that I could barely function due to nausea. Also, my brain hibernated for about a month (it’s been pretty rough). I don’t get how people function at jobs during the first trimester. Luckily, I’ve been super sick in the summers, when I don’t really have to do anything. I can’t imagine having to go in and have conversations and work. Good thing Americans in offices mostly look at the internet during their jobs (probably safe to do when feeling sick)!
I broke my summer hypnosis while working with a colleague on a radioactivity project these last few days. It was so rejuvenating and glorious! Did you know that no one reports the amount of radionuclides released during the Chernobyl meltdown in grams? Our mission was to have students calculate decay rates from that event to figure out how much of each of the 22 radionuclides still remained in the environment, but all of the data was in Becquerels (a unit I swear I’ve never heard of, but surely I must have learned at some point and forgotten? I’m either uneducated or my brain is swiss-cheesy). So then I found this statistics paper online that explained how to convert Bq to activity, and then finally to grams (using chemistry! Avogadro’s number and molar mass). I felt like a genius after converting all of the NEA data from Bq to grams (but Natan did a touch test and helpfully assured me that I am not).
It was really fun having an idea for a science/math project, encountering an unforeseen problem, and hunting around to solve it. RESEARCH. We then, serendipitously, got an e-mail about a radioactivity workshop at DISNEYLAND in November (what?!). Maybe I was meant to be a nuclear science educator ambassador or something! (probably not, since I didn’t know what a Becquerel was until 2 days ago). I feel really drawn to it right now, though, like my thinking about it/working it into the curriculum is far from over. I need to reread “The Making of the Atomic Bomb”, maybe on maternity leave. The only book I managed to read this summer was “Gone Girl”, which was like a Dan Brown novel—addictive, but not really good.
Can't end without a picture of THIS future big brother:
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