Traveling at Home
Even in a country you know by heart
it’s hard to go the same way twice.
The life of the going changes.
The chances change and make a new way.
Any tree or stone or bird
can be the bud of a new direction. The
natural correction is to make intent
of accident. To get back before dark
Is the art of going.
-Wendell Berry
The Hand
The teacher asks a question.
You know the answer, you suspect
you are the only one in the classroom
who knows the answer, because the person
in question is yourself, and on that
you are the greatest living authority,
but you don’t raise your hand.
You raise the top of your desk
and take out an apple.
You look out the window.
You don’t raise your hand and there is
some essential beauty in your fingers,
which aren’t even drumming, but lie
flat and peaceful.
The teacher repeats the question.
Outside the window, on an overhanging branch,
a robin is ruffling its feathers
and spring is in the air.
-Mary Ruefle
Well, finals are right around the corner–I know it’s been a long time since my last email, and there probably won’t be another one until after interim, which I’ll mention later on. First, here’s what’s going on at stolaf:
Philosophy is going well. Since my last email, we’ve talked about art and imitation, aesthetic appreciation, the paradoxes of fiction and tragedy, and theories and problems of morality. I’m finding the morality discussions particularly interesting. There are essentially two kinds of moral theories–consequential and deontological. According to consequentialism, Jeffrey doesn’t stand up his date because he might hurt her feelings–an action is right (or wrong) if it’s consequences are good (or bad). Mr. Woelber, you’d probably appreciate Betham’s hedonic calculus. The deontological approach says that an action is morally right (or wrong) if it is motivated by a moral duty (regardless of its consequences)–he should go on the date because it’s wrong to lie, and because he made her a promise. I’m writing a paper about morality this weekend–it’ll be the last one of the semester. I hope Prof. Gorham (a.k.a. my buddy “Dexter” appreciates it).
By the way. “Dexter” is awfully proud of his eight year old daughter, aptly named Sophie. Sophie is quite the budding philosopher. She’s started asking her dad to give her a paradox before bedtime instead of reading stories. He jokes a bit about how much pleasure he gets out of messing with her mind…thanks, parents, for not confusing me on purpose. I can do that on my own.
I haven’t trusted faces lately. pb was in here the other day. He was lying on the floor, and I was sitting on my chair, looking straight down on his face (but upside down). He was talking, and his eyebrows were moving at a rate just slower than his speech…so it was just a bit off, and it was so distracting that I couldn’t even listen to him. I was so distracted–I couldn’t distinguish one part of his face from another, so eventually I just closed my eyes…it’s like watching a move that’s been dubbed over. It’s hard to listen carefully when the words don’t match the mouth…and when you can’t even FIND the mouth because the eyebrows are sitting where the mouth is supposed to be, and there are two of them instead of one mouth…well, then you just get confused and close your eyes to shut it all out…and look how this has become about YOU and not ME. Even while writing this I’m trying to remove myself from the situation.
I’ve switched to the back of my religion class. I like to sit against the wall and listen to the chalk sounds on the board next door. I think it’s a way of connecting myself to something outside….a way of reminding myself that there are other people in other places learning something else right now. For whatever reason, that makes me really happy.
My religion class is pretty much finished for the semester. I still have a final, which will undoubtedly be difficult, but the day before Thanksgiving Break, I turned in my credo paper–an “I Believe” statement about God, the meaning of suffering, and life after death. For me, there are plenty of uncertainties in those departments, but I spent a great deal of time thinking and writing about those ideas…and even if I didn’t write the most “persuasive” paper, I’ve certainly learned a lot about myself.
I’ve learned a lot about the Bible, too. We’ve read Genesis, Exodus, Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Job, Daniel, Mark, John, Acts, 1 Corinthians, and Revelation. I’m reading the Bible in a different way than I ever have–in a healthier way, I think. I have papers available for a nickel each on Daniel and 1 Corinthians. You can have my credo paper for free. Or here’s another idea. Buy me a cup of coffee and we’ll chat about such things 🙂
I’ve had several visitors the last few months–it’s been so nice to see you guys. Thank you. Jacque and Jessie, eating pizza was especially wonderful. I’m so glad you guys called. You know who else is wonderful? My brother, Noah. What a great fellow. He’s turning out just fine.
I met a wonderful fellow here, too. His name is Ian. He’s becoming a really good friend. We understand each other quite well–he likes to read…Joyce, mostly, but I’m hoping he’ll give Virginia Woolf another chance. He’s lovely to talk to…unfortunately, he disappears on the weekends. He plays in a band in the cities. It’s all right, though–I’ve got Jorie (lovely girl). Jorie and I ate a pint of grapefruit sorbet the other night. I don’t know what was wrong with it…whatever that dark stuff on the bottom was was a bit sketchy. But anyway. I have all of you to write to on Saturday nights!!
It was good to be home over Thanksgiving. I went to a show at the Bryant Lake Bowl–I feel like I’m in my element there. Everyone knows me. My eyes are alive. My roommate, Bridget came along–I don’t know if she was a big fan of the Minneapolis music scene, but she did enjoy time with the crazy Franske family.
Then there’s interim. I’m excited for interim–one class, four weeks. I’m spending two of those weeks off campus, participating in a program called Education 170: Urban Schools and Communities. We’ll be living in Minneapolis and shadowing teachers in an elementary school in the Phillip’s Neighborhood. It’s the only education class you can take at stolaf as a freshman, and I’m looking forward to the classroom experience. There are 17 of us, so I’m hoping to get to know some kids pretty well, too.
I best be going. Things are a bit crazy here thanks to Christmas Fest, the big stolaf choir concert. I think this is the only place you’ll find Norwegian flags on a Christmas tree. Anyway. Happy St. Nick’s. I’ll write again soon. Thanks for your letters and drawings.
love anna
To a Squirrel at Kyle-Na-No
Come play with me;
Why should you run
Through the shaking tree
As thought I’d a gun
To strike you dead?
When all I would do
Is to scratch you head
And let you go.
-W.B. Yeats
Listen
I threw a snowball across the backyard.
My dog ran after it to bring it back.
It broke as it fell, scattering snow over snow.
She stood confused, seeing and smelling nothing.
She searched in widening circles until I called her.
She looked at me and said as clearly in silence
as if she had spoken,
I know it’s here, I’ll find it,
went back to the center and started the circles again.
I called her two more times before she came
slowly, stopping once to look back.
That was this morning. I’m sure that she’s forgotten.
I’ve had some trouble putting it out of my mind.
-Miller Williams
NOTE TO READERS: there has been interest in a cliff’s notes version of my nearly-biweekly-update (::COUGH:: Steve Kimball). For information concerning such SUPPLEMENTARY resources, please respond to this email.
I’ve always hated carving pumpkins. I don’t have a problem with pumpkins in general–they’re festive. They remind me of colorful leaves, near naked trees, and well worn sweaters…and who doesn’t love pumpkin bread? I’ll never forget my first pumpkin bread experience: Barbara Jean’s, 2001. So I guess you could say I’m a pumpkin advocate. The word itself is even fun to say. But who in their right mind would enjoy cutting them open and digging out the goop? It’s like a variation on heart surgery–only we do it for fun. This year, for the first time, I won’t have to participate–and I won’t miss it. I’ll spend Thursday evening reading a good book by the fire, thank you very much.
The fires have started, by the way. The southerners are excited about the sorry excuse for snow we’ve had thus far and lobbied for the wood to be brought in a bit early this year. The warm flames and the decorations leftover from the Ahl Hahl Fahl Bahl (those clever oles) have made the lounge much more attractive. I’m spending much more time there these days. I suppose that has something to do with my roommate’s absence (she was on an orchestra tour last week) but also with my determination to branch out a bit. So far I’ve been successful; I’ve made some friends. My favorites, Alex and Jorie, are quite the characters, to say the least.
Alex is tall. He’s a giraffe in a John Guari costume. We usually sit together in our religion class. He does an excellent job of asking the difficult questions. We often each lunch together afterwards and chat about such things. I love the stories he tells me about his dad. My favorite is the one about “messy night.” When Alex was growing up, his dad instituted bath nights as “messy nights” at dinner (i.e. no hands allowed). We’ve talked about instituting messy nights in Stav Hall if we can generate enough support.
Jorie’s just crazy. She likes to jump around and “wear tables.” Yesterday she challenged me to a cotton ball eating contest. We each managed to stuff 17 of them into our mouths without choking. We’ve decided to repeat the experiment another time with something that tastes better. Like marshmallows. Mmmmmm.
Bettina and Nicole live next door. They like to listen to the same song over and over on repeat until they get tired of it. This is usually a week long process–then they move on to something else. Fortunately for me, every once and awhile, they have a “best of” day, and play ALL their favorite repeated songs…that’s all right, though. I’m a fan of those two.
Classes have picked up a bit. I made it through midterms without too much trouble, but since then my workload has significantly increased (even though I’ve finished inline skating…would you believe it?? My skating grade has gotten me off to a good start, though–I’ve got a 4.0!). I’ve got papers, papers, and more papers to write. I’m finding that I have to “settle” with most of them. I’m writing a credo for my religion professor–I got an early start on that one, because I’d like to spend some serious time on it. It will involve a lot of thinking but consequently, a great deal of self discovery. Sounds cheesy, I know, but very, very good.
Recently, I’ve had some spectacular visitors. My friend Alison stayed overnight the day before midterms started. I made her do the entire dorm’s dishes, but aside from that I think she had a good “prospie” experience. Last week, I got to go to my cousin Karl’s cross country meet in Owatonna. It was a great day for running–and it’s a beautiful sport, really. Then this weekend, I saw both Alicia, a friend from church, and John, my poetry buddy. And even more visitors to come! On Thursday, the Northfield kids are coming by the dorms to trick-or-treat. I’m in town today to pick up some candy–and to benefit from the coffee house ambiance, of course. You have to get here early if you want a muffin. I made a mental note.
I’ve learned a little more about Geoff Gorham (a.k.a. “Dexter”). He LOVES Canada. He dedicated our last philosophy class to her queen. He’s definitely a proponent of the monarchy. Oh, but if any of you Rosevillers plan on voting Nov. 4th, he’d like you to vote for his wife for city council, even though he doesn’t understand the crazy election process in these here United States….I’m beginning to wonder if his wife made him give up coffee. His Starbucks mug has been replaced by a water bottle….and finally. He doesn’t like to erase. And that goes for college professors in general. They all leave bits and pieces of indistinguishable words and letters all over the board. It doesn’t bother me–it’s just something I’ve noticed.
I’ve got a lot of work to do. Thanks for sending your letters and drawings. I’m sorry to those of you I didn’t get back to–I have a new system of organizing my mail that should take care of that. I hope you all are doing well and keeping warm. I love you and miss you.
Anna
Mmmmmm, coffee in the afternoon. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. Today it’s cider. Hot cider. But coffee in the afternoon reminds me of this game I play with a friend of mine–he sends me a poem, and I have to respond with another poem within 24 hours. OR ELSE. I’m not entirely sure what happens if I miss the deadline….I’m not entirely sure I want to find out, just in case my computer explodes or something…but anyway, “Coffee in the Afternoon” is the title of today’s poem (which I haven’t sent yet, because I’m here, drinking cider, writing to all of you–and boy, does it taste good).
There’s something about apples. Apple cider, apple pie, apple crisp…there’s something special there. This time of year apples are hard to ignore. I eat at least two a day. They pack very well for long bike rides. I stop for a breath and take one from my pack…study it…I understand the apple. Not just this particular apple, but apples in general. I’ve never felt so connected to a fruit as I am to the apple. When I eat an apple, I AM eating a mature ovary. I see the orchard. I see the tree and the blossom and the drooping branches. I see the old, slow truck and the determined truck driver. This apple comes from somewhere. I get lost in an apple. I get lost in its beauty–its skin and its pulp. I don’t think I’ve ever been so distracted by a fruit before…but here, apples are my companions. I take them everywhere I go. We understand each other.
The coffee house scene is so different in the afternoon. There’s not so much to listen to. When I was here last, I wrote down all sorts of wonderful things the people were saying–now all I hear is the espresso machine and the woman shuffling playing cards at the table next to mine. That’s okay, though. I still like to wonder who they are and what they’re thinking. Maybe there’s even someone here named Dexter. In all seriousness, though. People are amazing. We all hold our mugs differently because of the people we’ve met and the places we’re from. We all woke up on different sides of the bed this morning. But we’re all here. Eating and drinking and thinking our thoughts. Mmmmmm…people. Mmmmm…cider.
I’m finding a groove here at stolaf. My roommate, Bridget, and I joke around a lot. She’s ridiculously funny. My sarcasm makes her laugh. Unfortunately, her hand-eye coordination is next to nil. Last night, three guys from upstairs challenged us to a popcorn throwing/catching contest. We decided to give it a go and recruited Jorie from down the hall. I guess my wicked juggling skills came in handy–I successfully caught 4 out of five popcorn pieces in my mouth. Jorie caught 2…Bridget none. We lost to the guys by one. Fortunately, they didn’t make us give up our Goldfish. We had to go door to door asking for brown sugar instead (??). Bridget promised me she’ll practice before our rematch.
Classes are going very well. The weeks here are good. I turned in my first paper on Monday for my philosophy class–I attempted to solve Meno’s Paradox of Enquiry, which is basically this: “And how will you enquire, Socrates, into that which you do not know? What will you put forth as the subject of enquiry? And if you find what you want, how will you ever know that this is the thing which you did not know?”
It’s been so exciting to discuss these kinds of ideas. For an 8:00 class, I think we’re pretty active. We have interesting discussions. My religion class has also improved dramatically. We had a great discussion about Job yesterday. We’re reading more of the Bible than I ever expected to, but we’re also reading some essays on the philosophy of religion (mostly regarding the problem of evil, i.e. why is there sin if God is all good). The professor has gotten a lot better about letting us simply talk about the ideas brought up in class. I still have to write my Daniel paper–I think I might do that this weekend.
I had my first test in psychology last week. I did very well! Thanks to T.O., I have a very good understanding of negative and positive punishment. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the essay I wrote in his class about spanking. The next test will be a lot more difficult. I’m relearning all the structures of the brain–yikes. It’s like Biology all over again. In German, we just finished some basic geography, etc. Tomorrow, I’m doing a group presentation about how to build a snowman in the passive voice. I miss “Bunte, bunte Blaetter.”
Hey! Speaking of Blaetter (leaves, auf Deutsch), we spent yesterday’s inline skating class rolling around campus picking out our favorite trees and collecting leaves. I, of course, thought the trees bore a striking resemblance to the skin of an apple–the obsession took hold of me once again, and I was lost in my fruit-filled paradise.
Well, my cider’s just about gone, and I have a lot of reading to do for tomorrow. Goodbye, friends…all over the world…drinking from your mugs in your own special ways and rolling out of bed at different times of the day. Take care–but not just of yourselves–of each other.
Love,
Anna
I feel like I’ve become the worst version of myself here. At least in thought, not so much in deed. It’s not the fault of this school or these people–it’s just something I’ve become aware of and hate immensely. I feel like the good’s falling away. I feel like I’m losing my love for other people. I’ve always cared so much about other people. I’ve always believed in people, and I’ve always wanted to help. Now I judge–more than I ever have–and I’m more critical than ever. I’m not fair.
“I wanted only to try to live in accord with
the promptings which came from my true self.
Why was that so very difficult?”
i got a letter from my milkman today.
how cool is that??
