Welcome to the Boonies

For the past year, I’ve been watching people flood from NY and Philadelphia into my area, gratefully leaving stress and illness behind. Now, yes, this has run up the cost of housing to the disadvantage of many including myself. And in some areas, visitors have been the cause of overcrowded and misused natural/recreational resources, leaving the locals to clean up and argue over what “public” access means. But, that said, I can’t begrudge people the ability to have a life with more physical space and to understand that leaving the city does not equal complete isolation from all things cultural and entertaining. It’s a learning curve for the newbies and visitors and that may take more time.

For myself, I’ve spent years feeling lost without my connection to the city (NY that is). I reminisce about my adventures when I lived, went to school, and worked there. Somehow, no matter how beautiful it is where my family lives, and no matter for how long, I have had this feeling of missing out and neglecting my son’s cultural development. After all, people come from all over the world to be there. I am so close and don’t get in much.

Over this loooong year of upheaval, I have been wondering if I am the only one feeling bereft or lost. So, I’ve been reading the perspectives and comparisons made by those who have left the city. As a result, it seems that my view is not quite focused correctly. One person quoted in the NY Times stated that he and his partner realized, after leaving for Armonk, NY, that people become “addicted” to the energy of NY. To the fix, so to speak, of the immediacy of access to all of the museums, theater, ballet, music, etc. But, in fact, many of the transplants (some from part time to full time, some brand new) are embracing their new home towns. Embracing what they have there, not lamenting what they had in NY.

So, this may not be news to some of my readers, it’s a relief almost to be able to let go of the jealousy of those who “get” to live in the city like I used to. Who “get” to go in regularly like I used to. I have advantages too. I have the ability to connect my son with cultural and environmental growth opportunities that are not available in NY. OK, New Yorkers can leave for the country for a rest like we used to leave Queens for the Catskills. But it’s not so bad leaving the boonies for the city either. It’s all perspective. And the perspective of loss is not as healthy or even accurate as the concept of embracing what is in front of you and making that your vision of completeness.

Well, here it is. I’d have to get to it eventually: A reinforcement of reading. If I hadn’t be doing so (note the lack of social media and YouTube references) I would be ignorant of the various perspectives on living in the boonies and not able to situate myself within this idea of place and identity. I’ve even had to face anger when I read about transplants acting as if they’ve discovered someplace I grew up enjoying! Or their arrogance in acting as if homesteading in/gentrifying a relatively low income neighborhood upstate is actually not a problem when they do it but the others that follow are ruining it? In my indignance, I’ve found a kind of protective attitude towards my remote homes. A pride in valuing these locations before it became de rigueur.

So, it really is not true that I’m “left out” of the New York scene. It’s perspective. And that perspective had a chance to mature–with research, basically–into a knowing that it’s not all there or here. We make the value of a place. and if there is somewhere different and enjoyable, take some time to be there, but don’t neglect the value in your own home town–adopted or otherwise.

Facts: We Don’t Hide Them, We Clarify Them.

I’ve written about winning an essay contest when I was in college in which I argued that we should keep teaching texts that contain disturbing content, but not to support or glorify this information but to make sure that this is not hidden or whitewashed. It was and still is important to me that no one should forget history–even literary history. Always know what has been popular or acceptable–for good or ill. It informs your understanding of how cultures evolve and groups dominate.

I do want to revisit what I just noted: That preserving the information should not be to glorify or support the negative. The awareness of this negativity should be for educational purposes. It should not be meant to continue victimization.

With this in mind, the removing of publicly displayed historical emblems that glorify those who openly fought for causes that supported oppression is a service to citizens, not a revision of history. Now, if we removed all references to the Civil War from textbooks or did not show the images of participants on both sides, we would be doing a disservice to history and to future generations who need to know the full story, from both sides. This is the only way to understand how any war or treaty is formed.

No one is asking any publishers to remove people like Robert E. Lee from the textbooks. We just don’t want to see him in bronze anywhere–outside of a museum exhibit maybe where the theme is related to the topic of misplaced investment in glorification or political monuments through the centuries. That would then be educational and voluntary viewing. Again: Adjusting the perspective is not necessarily revisionist–it is a corrective action that enables everyone to learn full content in the correct context.

There is an Opinion piece in the New York Times by Caroline Randall Williams titled “You Want a Confederate Monument? My Body is a Confederate Monument.” (https://nyti.ms/383rugG) that addresses this very concept. She and others like Playon Patrick, a young poet among other accomplishments for one so young (2020 Quarantine Killings https://youtu.be/FpFbBuZi2sM), are restoring the balance, the record, to reflect a truth that has existed and has been known but has not been fully understood or, frankly, cared about by many. I’m grateful to be able to learn what I did not know to look for, and to learn it both subjectively and objectively. I am grateful to receive this in such a masterful presentation that humbles me as a writer.

A New Direction for an Established Interest

calvin and hobbes

I am pleased to announce my acceptance to the Literacy in Education program at Rutgers University. While I hold a masters in English from NYU, the dominant focus of my studies, research, and employment has been founded on the idea of literacy itself: How do people acquire their skills and improve them? Reading comprehension is the core of writing’s strength. Without the experience of and access to a wide range of texts and writing styles, how can you develop your own voice–fact-based or fictional? It’s like a guitarist with no heroes or a poet with no muse!

I miss learning. I miss being in a community of learners. The inspiration to discover and to share those discoveries has been languishing somewhat. My corporate colleagues are all seekers of knowledge in some form and are involved in discovery and invention, but not all are in the same field of interest. I need to be able to be on the same wavelength with a similar knowledge base. The variety that they bring to our conversations is enjoyable and necessary for my own growth, but I am falling behind in my own field while they are moving forward in theirs. It’s time to flourish again!

The only way to do so is to rejoin academia—for me at least. For others, that is not the only option. It’s not necessary to be acknowledged by a formal body to have proof of learning, knowledge, or intelligence. It is, however, one way to at least prove two out of three (more on that another time) and to receive formal credentials with which to pursue career goals.

So let’s see if this returning student still has the chops to make the idea a reality. It may be that I don’t have the resilience that I once possessed. Or I may be better equipped now for the challenges, personal and intellectual, that loom. Regardless, I’m admitted and committed and it’s up to time and effort to produce the results.

“We must care enough to confront or we don’t care enough!” Tim McClendon, Pastor and Potter

I found the above statement in a blog post as I researched mainstream perspectives on direct and open communication. It all began with my last post and my concern about the limitations many of us put on ourselves and others in our own avoidance of discomfort or healing. This particular blog was on Southern passive-aggressive behavior and the classic “bless your heart” avoidance of frankness.

Much like the NY “borough Italian” upbringing of my youth, there is this idea that direct talk is too aggressive–that indirect statements lead to desired results without drama. But, no, this just creates a nervous “what if I misunderstood the cues?” angst–and no one will admit this because that is being too direct and open! The only difference I see between the Southern and Italian-American* way of communicating is that the latter treats it as an art from while the former just thinks its good manners.

The timing is also an issue. The passive aggressive statements are often an ambush. They are not offered with constructive intent or in a time frame that could contribute to a solution.  They are often belated. Snipes scheduled to cut. The recipient cannot easily respond without seeming reactionary or emotional–thus, deserving of the cut.

I find that my blood pressure goes up exponentially and my manners go out the window in the face of passive aggressive behavior. It’s disrespectful in my eyes and I, unfortunately, lose respect for the person. I’ve been told that I am extremely aggressive and hard to approach when someone has a complaint. That comes from people who are not direct talkers. It is from people who hold onto real or imagined slights and wait until I have complaint to bring theirs forward. Why hold on to something? What if I keep doing that over and over because I don’t realize I’m doing it or that it is upsetting? Direct people never stop being direct with me and I tend to understand how to act with them and what their needs are.

McClendon mentions a time that his father just stewed as a woman took liberties photographing pottery in the museum he was running. Instead of putting a stop to it, he let her run rampant then said something to the effect of having her stay for dinner while she’s at it. She accepted–not realizing he was being passive aggressive/sarcastic. Or maybe, being rude to begin with, she had no compunction about saving money by eating with them. He then proceeded, behind her back, after she left, to fume about her.

But, as McClendon pointed out to his father, he invited her! He allowed her to run roughshod over him initially and then accept insincere hospitality. In fact, direct confrontation might have created a different outcome. Perhaps, having just been overly enthusiastic, she would have been embarrassed and polite once she had been confronted–politely. Instead, the only good thing I can find in this is that the passive aggressive behavior backfired and the father did not get any satisfaction from it. The possible middle outcome: She was still a rude person but he stood his ground and cut short her infraction.

Confrontation is not bad in and of itself. It’s making sure that everyone is on the same page. We don’t always know we are being inappropriate or upsetting. We do, however, dislike being told belatedly about trespasses or things that might not have been if direct communication came into play. Passive aggressive saves up ammunition. Respectful confrontation stops problems and prevents patterns.

*I use the term Italian-American because I can’t speak for Italians everywhere in terms of communication. I can say that the kind of “indirect speak” that people witness in The Godfather and The Sopranos (complete with knowing look and pause) is what I grew up with—although with much less dire consequences when misunderstood!

If you’d like to read more from McClendon’s blog: https://wtmcclendon.wordpress.com/2014/10/16/southern-passive-aggressive-behavior/?blogsub=confirmed#blog_subscription-5

Be Safe: Be Educated

No one lives in a one-dimensional world, so how can you only investigate one dimension of the world around you?


In other words, why is it not obvious that a well-rounded education is essential?  It even hits me when I think of the debates we have about the border wall—how limited so many people are in their knowledge of our history with Mexico, of NAFTA and how it affects Mexico’s farmers. Do you know why there are more and more families coming from Central America (see links below). Where is the critical thinking and the research? Opinion and maintaining a personal comfort level is not a replacement for intellectual engagement and decision.

I keep returning to the continued debate over safe spaces and how far student-directed learning should go (I value active participation and feedback but how can you direct if you are still learning?). We still need to address the bottom line of what an effective and “valuable” college education should be. It seems that a higher education really isn’t about education at all anymore, but (inefficient) business training. Is it at all about learning for learning’s sake and being able to understand history, literature, philosophy, art, science, math, psychology, etc. as entities that create a well-rounded person able to approach multiple tasks and scenarios with agility and a critical perspective?

If you only know one thing, you have no reserves of knowledge from which to draw to assist you in working out intellectual, social, financial, artistic, business, tactical, or strategic conundrums. Lack of challenge to your knowledge base and comfort levels (yes, social, psychological, philosophical, and ideological) makes for an individual ill-prepared for any and all complicated events that will inevitably occur in the future. Can you really tell a major corporation or internal department that they should employ you, but they cannot run their business model as it is because it triggers a reaction to something in your past?

I’m not talking about real harassment, bullying, or a hostile work environment so much as the ability to identify the difference between your inability to deal with discomfort or handle particular content at the moment and real injustice or conflict. If you have a well-rounded education, you may well have read about (history, sociology, psychology, literature) or encountered people (fellow students, professors, study groups, in case studies and field research) who have dealt with the same or worse experiences. You might then have the ability to offer or create a solution rather than live as a complainant with a dilemma that someone else has the power to solve or ignore.

Really, with the amount of fighting and struggle—and trauma—that women had to go through to get the right to access higher education, how can any now want to push back and reject access to so much of this content instead of figuring out how and when it would be best for them to take advantage of this access? For all of the LBGTQIA people who literally fought and suffered for their safety, dignity, and rights, you can’t sit in the controlled space of a classroom and debate someone you could have the chance to enlighten?

If the answer is no, I have compassion. I suggest the continued pursuit of healing then and, if you are able, educating others—not controlling the intellectual  environment. Coming from someone who has been the victim of trauma and who could not quite get it together in my younger years to be able to focus on or appreciate the rigors of college, I had to wait until I was older to return. I had to wait until I was ready to engage with the content.

Never demand that the classroom become limited. Limit yourself if you really must–and only temporarily–but no one else.


For 2003-2004  studies on  NAFTA and Mexico’s farmers see the following links.

These might be older studies, but the long-term impacts are what we are seeing now.



For a information on causes of and policies that have influenced this current crisis: 



The Pencil


Being a writer and editor, I have made pencils permanent companions of mine for many years. Word’s track changes and Adobe’s tools have nothing on the ease and simplicity of a stick of wood-covered graphite with a small wad of eraser on top. At least my son still has to use pencils at school for some things even though they all have their own Chromebook. Math is still attended to with the best tool (we won’t address the use of calculators, memories, and counting on fingers and toes here).

As much as I hate to waste paper, staring at a computer screen for hours is too physically taxing for me to tolerate. I print and mark up texts by hand as often as possible. Pencils are the most logical tool because I can erase marks if I rethink something or want to update changes. They are not encased in plastic, so I’m less uptight about going through them. Though I do use hand-turned pens, that is another post for another time.

In my new job, I began as a tech writer but the position morphed into an editing-dense endeavor once I began to look through their existing publications and documents and started streamlining some of the content and layout. Almost immediately, I rolled away from the computer screen, and out came the pencils.

1200px-sharpener_with_pencilThen the pencils got dull. I went to the supply cabinet and searched in vain for a sharpener of any kind. Then I visited just about every coworker I could to borrow one. No luck. I did get some blank looks and a some offers of mechanical pencils, but no sharpeners. Then, one of the engineers reached on top of his file cabinet and grabbed an electric sharpener that looked to be no later a make than the ’80s, blew the dust off of it, and let me take it. It sits atop my desk like a display piece. Much like the bobble-head dolls of one of my friends. People stop dead and point and talk about the “old” ones you hand crank (Yes, I have one at home).

The motor abruptly breaks the relative silence, so I try to limit its use so I don’t keep alarming people with the sudden blast of old technology. The other day, from a few cubicles away, I heard someone giving the answer “It’s a pencil sharpener.” That reminded me of Lane Smith’s It’s a Book with all of the silly questions related to what it “is and does.” I mean, really, will curious queries be applicable to the pencil itself one day?

Reading about pencils: The Pencil Perfect by Caroline Weaver. I have to admit, it is not well edited and, if you are an academic, not scholarly, but, for a niche book created from love of something that is truly an unsung part of history and world culture, it is still of value.


Should Your Blog Topics Be Thematically Consistent at All Times?

paint cansI just finished a conference call at work about creating general interest blog posts for our website. People were suggesting topics that were not linked to technical writing or instructional design, but diverse topics like music, candy, humorous IMs, and Halloween decorating. But I kept thinking that the thematic focus should be consistent somehow with our industry. It’s the composition professor in me: I always bring a subject or argument back to a basic foundation—a big picture. So, if tech writers and designers are writing about these random things, shouldn’t they still be related to our environment somehow? If you like the Beatles, as one person enthusiastically told us, can’t that also tie to design (album covers) or sound (voiceover technology)? Candy and decorating can relate to branding color schemes and images for clients, right?

But then I started to think about how my own blogging digressions have produced some very interesting feedback. I’ve had online conversations begin with new people who suddenly drop in and respond to these added topics. I’ve found new ideas and perspectives I didn’t know I would be interested in. So, maybe going seemingly off topic will provide us with some great results. Maybe these are chances to bond with others we didn’t interact with very often.

There are a few colleagues and myself who spend the day connected via Slack. To offset stress, burnout, creative conundrums, drawing blanks, and maybe the loneliness of telecommuting, we check in with humorous gifs and observations. The hysteria often mounts and the energy increases. Our connection might be initiated by our work relationship, but the topics are often reflective of our external interests. It’s rather freeing to think of something that has no consequences, no deadlines, no evaluations or profit tied to it. A kind of tonic that invigorates and connects us rather than divides or distracts from our goals.

So, perhaps, variety in subject matter reflected in our blogs may drive more new followers to us and encourage established connections to share a wider variety of responses. At least we won’t be bored!

What’s Up With Process Analysis?


The other day, a colleague asked me how I felt about writing procedural documents. Basically, in process analysis, you break down the steps of a procedure so someone can understand and, if desired, repeat the steps and get the same results. The process might be complex and fully coherent only to those trained in an area such as car repair or IT—the discourse community as we call it in academia. Or the steps can be formulated for the average person with no prior experience in the particular process or field. For instance, their process could be to assemble a piece of furniture ordered from a catalog. Either way, once the audience is identified, the steps are presented in accessible, logical language.

While this is not an area of writing that people find fascinating to discuss at social gatherings—they are much more interested in hearing me discuss, albeit briefly, my research and writing on medieval Irish literature—I find it a challenge and one that presses me to really consider how clearly I communicate in other areas. If I can guide a stranger so well and thoroughly that they can replicate the wiring and structure of a large machine (mass manufacturing), or build a chair (standard instruction manual), or successfully assist and satisfy an irate stranger (customer service protocol), I have affected many lives in a positive manner. That’s pretty cool, frankly.

To make this accomplishment even more effective (and satisfying), I need to think about all possibilities that may arise once the user is interacting with my text. That is mostly wondering what might or can go wrong even with the directions in place. For instance, not all customers can be calmed by the same responses or promises. The customer service rep might not be able to assess whether or not they are being worked for a deal or freebie, or if someone has had a bad experience before they got to your line and just have hit their limit of patience. What if the tools needed for handling sensitive materials are no longer readily available to the workers at a factory and your text only addresses what they don’t have? (Think the main office cutting corners in purchasing . . . ) Where can these people turn?

A good mystery writer or a type-A personality (like me) can have a field day with this type of writing! Those of us who spend maybe too much time planning for the many curve balls life might throw can have their cake specially baked and plenty of time to eat it too. So, what may not be a big hit for cocktail conversation (teaching at a University always got more admiration for me) is still definitely satisfying.

With this in mind, I am reminded of the time I met Frank McCourt at a tribute to the author Benedict Keiley who had recently passed away. We had a mutual friend, so we were introduced and began to chat (are you finding me more interesting now?). When he found out I was teaching at Pace University there in the city, he pursed his lips, scowled, shook his head, and said “Now that’s a racket. Everyone thinks your great when you tell them you are a professor! Tell them you are a high-school teacher and . . .” He proceeded to make another face of exasperation. He was not tearing me down. He was expressing the general attitude out there. Of course, pretty much no one knows who I am and he, now sadly deceased, will continue to be one of the most well-known Irish authors of the late 20th and early 21st century. He was a high-school teacher and yet, in that unglamorous role, influenced future writers prior to his own fame and fortune.

It remains to be seen if my time in academia has opened any major paths to my many students. I may not become famous and may no longer be able to impress anyone with my job description, but I may just touch and affect many lives in such a way as to improve their worlds in small but meaningful ways. For a writer, it’s all part of the process.







What Are College Students Used to Reading?


As I read through another essay in Deep Reading, I was struck by the author’s commentary on her early years of learning. Meredith Ross (“The Unschooled Writer”), struggled with the “flat” or simplistic wording of tests: “I had grown up in a world of context and complexity, and the trivia questions and the flat answers in boxes just weren’t cutting it.” Granted this was referring to a test she took to be able to participate in a television show about “child geniuses,” still, these questions were not much different from many standardized tests. I should know, I used to write items for such tests! We had to avoid religion, emotion, controversial subjects, birthdays, anything too representative of wealth (an inner-city child might be offended if we used the word “yacht” instead of boat), etc. Basically, anything interesting or well-rounded in nature. Apparently students should not be distracted by variety or anything requiring imagination.


What I am getting at here is her emphasis on “content and complexity.” It seems that fewer and fewer students enter college with an expectation of anything more than flat, generic questions based on hyper-edited-for-easy-content passages and photo-dense pages—this goes for course reading and textbooks–not just tests. They seem to be more shocked by challenge than bored by blandness.

She bucked at the idea of having to be right the first time: “Almost every mistake I made as a child, small or large, was . . . understandable [and] easily correctable . . . rather than an insurmountable failure or something that needed to be addressed seriously.” Trial and error were part of her process. Especially her writing process. So why do so many freshmen sit silently and afraid to risk mistakes these days? I used to have students who would at least try to guess. Even light sarcasm is better than silence in most instances. But silence is more and more common.


Perhaps inserting a sense of humor into the mix might help: “I don’t know if there’s a better lesson for a writer to learn: do your best, and if it comes out wrong, just laugh and know better next time.” I do try but it seems that they aren’t sure they should laugh either!

Overall, I’d like to see more students these days react like Ross and abhor the tedium, expect the complex and the engaging, and take the risk.