I'm kind of a nut when it comes to ethical dilemmas. Sometimes I think I invent them just to give myself something to spin around in my head and bring up in conversation: the public face of my general neuroses. Other times, I think I'm just a sensitive soul with a finely tuned sense of justice. Here's an example: granite countertops.
I'm at the front end of a kitchen remodeling job. I've purchased appliances, chosen the floor and cabinets, and considered the color scheme. From the start, I thought, "I want granite countertops." I can't walk on a beach without filling my pockets with pretty rocks, so granite has always seemed like a perfect fit for me. Until I walked into Mees Distributors last Friday. Don't misunderstand: they have gorgeous stuff there. Tiles and granites and marbles that can make you weep because they're so beautiful. It wasn't until I was on my way out of the showroom that I noticed the photos hanging along the entryway walls. Granite mountain after granite mountain with enormous chunks missing, all so that we can have our counters. Immediately, I pictured Yosemite's Half Dome and imagined granite pickers slicing away at its famous facade. I got a little sick.
I went to work with my head reeling that day. What were the ethics of countertops? Could I live with myself if I participated in the slicing and dicing of mountains? Wasn't this just mountaintop removal? It spun in my head; I talked to friends about it. I worried. The next morning, I met Bo, my kitchen designer, at Mees. As we walked into the showroom, I pointed to the photos. "Look at that!" I said. I don't know where I thought granite came from before seeing these photos. "Can I really get granite?" I think Bo thought I was kidding at first, but then he started to remind me about my "green" decisions: linoleum, energy star appliances, donating some of the old fixtures so that they'll have a second life. "Do you really think its better to get counters made from petroleum products?" he asked. And then we went to see the slabs.
The ethics of granite. The stuff is gorgeous on the mountainside and on the counter. Weighing the greenness of my decisions is not something I do too much, I'm afraid. Oh, I take canvas bags to the grocery store; I recycle with the best of them; I have a big organic garden. But I also douse my house with pesticides at the first sign of an ant invasion; use chemical cleaners regularly; and still have lots of incandescent bulbs in my lamps. I guess I shouldn't be throwing the first chunk of granite. Alas, last Saturday I picked a slab of Glacier White granite for my kitchen. I decided that Bo's "we do the best we can" approach was as close as I was going to get this week to an ethical decision. I feel guilty, though.
I think too much. There's no doubt about that. I think it's important to think about the ramifications of the decisions we make, but most of the time, I think we end up making compromises that make us feel a little "off." as I write this, I'm watching a news story about a massive fire in Yosemite. People are fearful that the place will be devastated by the flames. I guess it's easier to be horrified by nature's devastation than it is our own. Oh no. I feel my head starting to spin with that thought. I need to go think for awhile.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Friday, August 23, 2013
On Urine and Faculty Development
Tuesday was the annual convocation at my college. It's always good to see the faculty return in full force to campus on Convocation day. We spend the morning hearing about the state of the college, the demographics of the incoming class, and we listen to a bunch of inspirational speeches to pump us up for the school year. In the afternoon, we always have a faculty development session where members of college faculty learning communities report on their accomplishments. This is where my new thing for August figures in.
I've mentioned that I'm in a creative writing group at school. On Tuesday, we read from our works-in-progress in front of a good sized group of faculty. I was terrified. Just "wet-my-pants" scared. I've done many, many presentations, but none of them have involved reading my own creative writing. I'm working on a piece of creative non-fiction about my time in China in 2011, so I conjured up some courage and read the beginning of that piece
--all about my fears of the eastern-style "squat" toilet. The piece is intended to be funny, and that was part of my fear: what if no one laughed? The other part of my fear had to do with the audience. My dean was there, and I was reading all about neuroses and urine. MY urine and neuroses. More nerve wracking was the fact that my new visiting Chinese faculty member was there. Fangjun arrived from Xi'an last week, and I knew him during my time in China. I was terrified that I'd offend him and cause some mini-international incident (hey, I've established the fact that I'm neurotic!).
I'm happy to report that my nerves faded after I received my first laugh; I'm happier to report that there were many rounds of laughter after the first one. The dean came up to me afterwards to say how funny she thought the piece was, and one of my colleagues who knew my fears about offending Fangjun told me that he laughed during the reading, too. The truth is that, despite my nerves, I love telling stories and making people laugh. I love being the center of attention, too. Clearly, this was an event made for me. Also true is the fact that my poet-colleagues who read are ridiculously talented. There is something about being in a group of people who are just plain great at what they do: it made me feel proud to be in their company and excited to keep writing and reading. All in all, this was a great new thing!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
I've mentioned that I'm in a creative writing group at school. On Tuesday, we read from our works-in-progress in front of a good sized group of faculty. I was terrified. Just "wet-my-pants" scared. I've done many, many presentations, but none of them have involved reading my own creative writing. I'm working on a piece of creative non-fiction about my time in China in 2011, so I conjured up some courage and read the beginning of that piece
--all about my fears of the eastern-style "squat" toilet. The piece is intended to be funny, and that was part of my fear: what if no one laughed? The other part of my fear had to do with the audience. My dean was there, and I was reading all about neuroses and urine. MY urine and neuroses. More nerve wracking was the fact that my new visiting Chinese faculty member was there. Fangjun arrived from Xi'an last week, and I knew him during my time in China. I was terrified that I'd offend him and cause some mini-international incident (hey, I've established the fact that I'm neurotic!).
I'm happy to report that my nerves faded after I received my first laugh; I'm happier to report that there were many rounds of laughter after the first one. The dean came up to me afterwards to say how funny she thought the piece was, and one of my colleagues who knew my fears about offending Fangjun told me that he laughed during the reading, too. The truth is that, despite my nerves, I love telling stories and making people laugh. I love being the center of attention, too. Clearly, this was an event made for me. Also true is the fact that my poet-colleagues who read are ridiculously talented. There is something about being in a group of people who are just plain great at what they do: it made me feel proud to be in their company and excited to keep writing and reading. All in all, this was a great new thing!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Great Parks
This has been the busiest summer of my life, but in the midst of my busyness, I've tried to sneak in some nature time. Besides my grand National Parks adventure and my woodland writers retreat, I've spent a lot of time in city and county parks, the real gems of the Cincinnati area. I'm sure there are terrific parks in other cities, but here in Cincy, we have Great Parks. Capital G, Capital P.
This summer, I've spent a fair amount of time at the biggest park in the county, Miami Whitewater Forest. This park has several wooded trails, a nice, big lake, and over eight miles of hilly bike trails. I spend my time here on the bike trail, and it's my favorite in town. The trail winds through wildflower meadows, farmland, and forest, and it's just hilly enough to give me a good workout on a short ride.
I do a lot of walking, and this summer, I've done some of it in our parks. Farbach-Warner Nature Preserve is a five minute drive from home, and it's a jewel. This wooded walking trail is just off one of the busiest roads in my area, and somehow that makes it feel especially wonderful: a real reprieve. This park never fails to surprise me. I've watched bucks wander through the woods, just four feet away from me, and turtles hanging out on the edges of the pond. The park is small but lovely.
Last weekend, my friend, Wanda, and I went walking in a new park--new to us, at least: Glenwood Gardens. This one is about twenty minutes from home, and it is gorgeous. There are lots of lovely cultivated gardens, complete with arbors and gazebos.
The park has a good two plus miles of walking trails that meander through reclaimed farmland, wetlands, woods, and meadows. I recommend this one, too.
Finally, a couple of weeks ago, Wanda and I hit Winton Woods, about twenty minutes from my house, for an afternoon of kayaking. I've wanted to kayak for a long while now. I took a sea kayaking class in 2010, and I love the feeling of paddling out into a little lake to sit in the quiet. Winton Woods has a good sized lake and rental kayaks, so off we went. We rented a sit-on-top tandem kayak for an hour on a cool, fall-like day. The sky was blue, with some low-squatting, grey-tinged clouds, so it was a gorgeous day on the lake. We took a little while to get our paddle strokes in sync, but we got there. We paddled out to the less populated end of the lake where we saw a seeming flock of Great Blue Herons, complete with a baby (adorable!). The hardest part of the trip was at the end. A park worker held the kayak to the cement pier so we could get out, which I accomplished in a less-than-graceful body roll from kayak to cement. Still, he did compliment us: "you're the only tandem kayakers here who I've ever seen try to synchronize their paddle strokes." At least he didn't say, "you're the only paddler I've ever seen flop like a fish from kayak to pier."
I highly recommend my county's Great Parks. They make a busy summer slow down just a little bit, and that's a gift.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
This summer, I've spent a fair amount of time at the biggest park in the county, Miami Whitewater Forest. This park has several wooded trails, a nice, big lake, and over eight miles of hilly bike trails. I spend my time here on the bike trail, and it's my favorite in town. The trail winds through wildflower meadows, farmland, and forest, and it's just hilly enough to give me a good workout on a short ride.
I do a lot of walking, and this summer, I've done some of it in our parks. Farbach-Warner Nature Preserve is a five minute drive from home, and it's a jewel. This wooded walking trail is just off one of the busiest roads in my area, and somehow that makes it feel especially wonderful: a real reprieve. This park never fails to surprise me. I've watched bucks wander through the woods, just four feet away from me, and turtles hanging out on the edges of the pond. The park is small but lovely.
Last weekend, my friend, Wanda, and I went walking in a new park--new to us, at least: Glenwood Gardens. This one is about twenty minutes from home, and it is gorgeous. There are lots of lovely cultivated gardens, complete with arbors and gazebos.
The park has a good two plus miles of walking trails that meander through reclaimed farmland, wetlands, woods, and meadows. I recommend this one, too.
Finally, a couple of weeks ago, Wanda and I hit Winton Woods, about twenty minutes from my house, for an afternoon of kayaking. I've wanted to kayak for a long while now. I took a sea kayaking class in 2010, and I love the feeling of paddling out into a little lake to sit in the quiet. Winton Woods has a good sized lake and rental kayaks, so off we went. We rented a sit-on-top tandem kayak for an hour on a cool, fall-like day. The sky was blue, with some low-squatting, grey-tinged clouds, so it was a gorgeous day on the lake. We took a little while to get our paddle strokes in sync, but we got there. We paddled out to the less populated end of the lake where we saw a seeming flock of Great Blue Herons, complete with a baby (adorable!). The hardest part of the trip was at the end. A park worker held the kayak to the cement pier so we could get out, which I accomplished in a less-than-graceful body roll from kayak to cement. Still, he did compliment us: "you're the only tandem kayakers here who I've ever seen try to synchronize their paddle strokes." At least he didn't say, "you're the only paddler I've ever seen flop like a fish from kayak to pier."
I highly recommend my county's Great Parks. They make a busy summer slow down just a little bit, and that's a gift.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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