Miami University Students for Staff Organize a Staff Appreciation Day

The Miami University student organization, Students for Staff, has organized a community-wide event in honor of all Miami employees. The free dinner and reception is an effort by the group to unite the community in a show of appreciation for and solidarity with staff.

The group has been waging a 3-year long campaign for a living wage for all Miami staff members. Based on records of staff wages and benefits, data collected from the Miami Human Resources department, and research by local poverty experts and market analysis reports, the group believes that a total of 449 full-time Miami staff are potentially living in poverty, with many more possibly qualifying for government assistance.

Students for Staff has taken multiple approaches to their activism. In addition to researching local economics, national poverty standards, and living wage policies at comparable universities, the group has informed their living wage campaign with an invested care and concern for the members of their local community. The students have made efforts in the past year and half to form genuine relationships with staff members and understand their situations, a perspective they have tried to share with the administration of Miami.

According to Stephanie Lee, one of the student organizers of the campaign, this is what distinguishes the group's approach.
"Administrators and management haven't taken the time to listen to the individual voices of the staff, to understand what each staff member goes through to make their living. A lot of staff won't even talk to a boss or supervisor about it because they're afraid. As students at this university, we have felt it is our responsibility to share these stories and to seek justice for our friends and neighbors at this university who aren't being treated fairly."

At a university with one of the highest Princeton Review rankings for "lack of diversity" and "lack of class interaction," this event marks a significant moment in the efforts toward community-building at Miami. When asked about the event, Stephanie Lee had this to say: "Some might note that this has wholly been a student effort. We came up with this idea, we planned and organized everything ourselves. We want to make a point about student-staff, student-administrator, and staff-administrator relations at Miami. It should be striking to everyone that the students are the ones who initiated a reception for the staff. I think it says a lot about our campaign that we have taken the time to get to know the staff, and that there is a genuine feeling of understanding and empathy. And I think that adds a lot of validity to our argument for better wages. Even though this event is not political in tone, it certainly has political intentions. We're not going to pretend that this isn't about a living wage, because of course it is. If you respect your workers and you respect your community, you'll understand that a living wage is just one way to right the wrongs perpetrated by our administration against our community-members. If you care about your community, and you care about the people in it, one thing should follow the other. If you support the staff, you would support a living wage."

The flyers advertising the event read as follows:
Staff Day 2007 will occur on Wednesday, September 26th, from 5-7 pm at the Fine Arts Pavilion on the Oxford campus of Miami University. All are invited.

For more information, please visit the student group's website, at musfs.org
==============================

-stephanie lee, Free Radical Publishing

trapt

i am really enjoying this green pen the English dept gave me today. it makes annotating all these books more fun. green stripes on my pages. green dots on my hands. if i were colorblind, is this what chicken pox would look like?


i've gotten myself stuck at my desk. there are piles of books all around me, a stack on my left and another on my right, stacks on the floor, and a stack by my head. i bumped into my advisor this afternoon, and we had a chat about my project, and how i'm mapping out the course of my thesis in this ridiculous process that will prove to most i am absolutely mad-hatter mad, and i explained how i am literally, physically immersing myself in my project by surrounding myself with it at all times. i described the book situation i got going on, and he told me a story about a satire he read once about this layman type fellow who was reading up on some writer i've since forgotten the name of, and how he got in a row with some literary hoss, and was tossed most unfortunately into a bookshelf, loaded top to bottom with these hefty volumes of pretentious literature. the shelf collapsed on his head, and he was dead.

i laughed kinda hard at the irony then, but now find myself trapped and waiting for an avalanche.



-stef

capitalism

storing this image for future use in my thesis, particularly for side-to-side comparison with a visual representation of the traditional educational system and its business.

poetic deference

so, despite last week's setback, i'm going ahead with my project. in fact, i've begun the tedious process of mapping (a la my efforts in the spring of 2006) the flow of arguments therein, in what i think will be quite the impressive finished document, a physically expansive display of the scope of my thesis.

and i've come to the decision that just because the gate-keepers demand i conform to a certain form and formula, doesn't mean i can't enjoy it. or that i can't successfully subvert the institution and its mechanic rituals by satirizing them. i can adopt the form as my weapon, like Monique Wittig's Trojan Horse. a bomb masked in stealth by which to explode the ramparts from within. my subversion and radicalism all the more effective for wearing the disguise supplied by the Academy.

and, i've been reading this beautiful book called On Learning and Social Change (sadly out of print), which i accidentally discovered at Highlander. it's full of some astute observations, including a chapter on the ecology of violence in the university (notes on the tao of education).

i plan to quote from it extensively. so, to put some fantastic poetic imagery in your face, some words from Michael Rossman:

"one mode of teaching is triumphant in the University. minds are to be filled with information. image of a hand closing on a piece of data, fist plunging into watermelon. image of a cock ejaculating. SOCK IT TO ME!" (p.160)

sound of a gun blasting!
-stef

i should have seen this coming...

and of course, just as i got going, i hit a brick wall.

yesterday i found out that i might not get my degree.

"why?" you ask? it's called gate-keeping. it's why i hate the educational system.

listen/read:
Why aren't you going to get your degree!?!

9:35 AM me: oh that's a funny story

we had senior project presentations yesterday

9:36 AM and i was explaining how i had this radical idea to change the format of my project

9:37 AM i'm looking at the educational system as a power system, an extension of the capitalist hierarchy that has historically ignored and excluded communities of difference

9:38 AM well, i'm also looking at schooling rituals, and seeing my project as an extension of this power system and its rituals and habits, i don't want that to be the kind of project i write

9:39 AM also, theory and practice is one of the core considerations in my thesis, i'm arguing for better educational practices that honor the "democratic promise" and theory of education

9:43 AM so, when i was explaining to Bill that i wanted to write my thesis with as little jargon as possible (jargon being the language that conveys power and authority to an arbitrary author. jargon also being the technical language that wedges a distance between communities, the language that marginalizes), opting instead for a dialogic or conversational writing style (a la Myles Horton and Paulo Freire and other practitioners i've been studying), Bill asked me "if i wanted my degree."

8 minutes

9:51 AM me: i didn't really think he was being serious, but then he explained to me that "this is an academic exercise and you're going to have to conform to its expectations if you want to be recognized by the institution"

9:52 AM i was extremely upset

it's just so frustrating because i knew this would happen, i just wasn't prepared to have to fight for the integrity of my project so early in the process!

oh's
-stephanie

project progress

i finally articulated my Senior Project focus in 50 words or less! it is, admittedly, a little obvious to me now, and i wonder why it took me so long, but i think the actual project itself will be a little more nuanced, particularly in its execution.

anyway, my thesis topic:
"Student Activism as Critical-Democratic Praxis" (working title)
how student groups and movements create democratic spaces that challenge and rewrite traditional power structures found in the (increasingly market-influenced) world of academia.

important note to self: explore "the academy" itself as a symbol of power, oppression (in its history of ignoring minority voices and communities, i.e. based on race, gender, class, and age/experience)

that little pop you just heard was the sound of your mind rupturing

in one of my Educational Leadership classes earlier this week:

professor: "did you know they decided to stop teaching cursive as part of the curriculum?"

one music ed. major: "that is so stupid! how are people going to sign their checks?!?"

blank stares, long pause

prof: "yeah... lots of people sign in cursive..."

music ed: "i mean, older people will write in cursive and they won't even know how to read it!!"

---

later in class (same day):

prof: "so why do the authors say we need theory?"

another music ed major: "it's a necessary evil."

theory = evil...?

my mind: BLOWN.
-stef

social change movements in the South are alive and well!

the library at Highlander

i have returned from Highlander in TN with the happy news that social change in the South is alive and well.

75 years after its inception, and Highlander is still inspiring activists to build communities, to enact the change we hope one day to see, and speak truth to power.

it was a fantastic weekend, filled with workshops on popular education, political guerilla theatre, GLBTQ identities in activism, and lots of singing, joining hands, powerful anecdotes, and handclaps!

anyway, i'm tired now. classes are disappointing. i wish i could be back in the library with the spirit of Myles Horton's activism all around me, as i read this amazing little book i found in the library:

how sweet is this diagram depicting the flow of knowledge and relation-building in a democratic society as opposed to capitalist hierarchies?

oh, i forgot to mention: as of this week, i'm on Campus Progress's Student Advisory Board, working on Organizing! woo-hoo! later this month: a trip to Washington DC to begin my organizing on a national level...

-stef

Highlander

readers,

i'm gone this weekend, leaving in a matter of minutes for a conference/ 75th anniversary celebration for Myles Horton's Highlander Folk School. i'll be taking workshops on community organizing in the mountains of Tennessee, re-reading Horton's autobiography, The Long Haul (one pivotal resource in my senior project), and trying not to get bitten up by mosquitoes like i did the last time i was in TN!

so while i enjoy the company of progressive educators and social change makers, pls enjoy the inspiring words of Myles Horton, and imagine you were there with me (oh, if only i could take all of you with me...)

"education is meant to help you do something for others" (3)
"When you work toward equality, you have to devise some kind of structure in which there can be justice, but in the meantime you have to do the best you can in an unjust society. Sometimes that means that the laws you go by are moral laws instead of book laws." (7)
"you learn what you do, and not what you talk about." (16)
"i wanted action to be the main thrust, instead of just talking about future action that you don't practice." (16)
"in order to act on my beliefs i had to accept the idea of civil disobedience. i knew that i might have to violate those laws that were unjust, and i made up my mind never to do something wrong just because it was legal." (16)
"the violence of poverty destroys families, twists minds, hurts in many ways beyond the pain of hunger. there is another kind of violence that supports the violence of poverty, and that is institutionally sanctioned violence." (27)
"i couldn't be an absolute pacifist, because i thought that there might be times when it would be a lesser violence to have a revolution." (38)
"you can't use force to put ideas in people's heads. education must be nonviolent. i can't conceive of another type of education." (41)

and it goes like this...

great conversation while driving home from WV with the fam:

my brother is talking about having nothing to do in Lexington with his friends.

me [in a mocking deep voice]: "you could pick up chicks"

my mother chimes in: "yeah! pick up chicks. that will keep them busy."

me: "keep who busy?"

Mom: "them. the boys. keep the boys busy."

me: "doing what exactly?"

Mom: "picking up chicks."



mm. a smile so wide you could fit a canoe inside.
-stefanie

an o.k. kind of knowingness

i'm pleased to be found on the top 10 list of returns for a web search of "miami university - not liking it" [done by a MU student on campus, or so says the traffic report]


it's like when someone came upon this sight [sic] while searching for "sophomore slump symptoms," or any of the odd searches that bring ppl to this place.

-stef

we're back!

and ready for action!

so fire up yr engines!
-stef

with it being super hott [sic] in oxford right now (to stave off health risks, Miami has set up cooling stations all over campus with bottled water and mist-ers, so i feel like i'm at a music festival ALL THE TIME, it's great), i decided to wake up extra early this morning, while most were still sleeping off the last night's festivities, and watch the sun rise from the two giant windows in my room while eating creamy peach yogurt. the mornings are remarkably cooler and calm, and i can't sleep in my new room anyway (it's a nice room, and i've never had trouble sleeping in the dorms in the past, it's just lately i've been unable to stay asleep for very long).

i took a bike ride, and felt high, being super awake to sights and sounds others missed as i passed them by. i saw strange patterns in the clouds, like snake leather, felt the physics of my bike as i balanced a yoga mat on my back, saw a small, exquisite yellow and black bird take flight before me (anyone an ornithologist?), and pulled up to the Rec Center to see people leaving with sleeping bags from having spent the night (another Miami health initiative).

i spent the morning in yoga and pilates classes, contemplating my pelvic floor, it's true location, asking it "how are you?" and saying "good job" and offering it encouragement and support.

i'm going for a bike ride in the woods this weekend, and hopefully finding time to spend with friends and music.

what are u doing?
-stef

what's broken can always be fixed, what's fixed will always be broken

as some of you will remember, i fell in love with the music of a Swede named Jens Lekman.

and as the summer winds down and blows away, taking my memories of it (the smells, the touch and feels) away, too, i find myself listening to his music again. it always seems to find me in these liminal months, when i'm back in the midst of woods in Oxford, Ohio, awaiting the approach of autumn in the corners of rooms by windows, wishing it would rain to match my mood.

i think this is why i love Jens and his music: it allows me to relax and stop trying to articulate pangs i get about delicate moments, and be satisfied in knowing someone understands, that someone put it to song, with handclaps and gentle harp, and extravagant whistling.

i'm realizing time is fleeting. i spend my days now worrying about classes and homework, graduate exams, finding jobs, rushing to the library to grab all the books relevant to my research before someone else can, waiting for weekends so i can trip over to the woods or to the farmers' market. busy busy, always planning ahead, but never seeing directly in front of me.

i read a beautiful reflection on the death of a friend, on how the smallest details are what you always linger on to remember someone. "glances, touches, purchases, short phone calls, preparing a snack, standing in a doorway, taking off or putting on shoes." same goes for memories of your own life, i guess. all you have are moments.

which is why i return to Jens Lekman every summer, and especially why i listen to him now. he knows what it's like to want, more than anything, to prolong this moment, and every moment thereafter, to long to stretch out the spaces between seconds and climb inside and build a home. "The desire to go back to another time, to swim for a while there, and to cast it in rosy light. The doomed, daft act of revisiting a lost place and gilding it gold." [source]

-stef

---
speaking of moments, i stayed up all night remembering the summer in lost journal entries. i remember i've yet to fulfill my promise of posting writing from my summer travel journals. is there any desire any more?

dangerous familiars

hi to all you patient and adoring darlings!

thanks for your patience these past few days. i've been busy traveling all over West Virginia and Kentucky, and have just recently returned to being settled and having all my things in one small room again.

that is, i'm back at Miami University for one final year. and as i'm shopping around for the most interesting and compelling classes to take, while i'm stressing out about my undergraduate thesis and studying for the GRE's and planning student actions for all my various activisms, i've also found, in the blissful off-time, a surprising nostalgia and reminiscence creeping over me.

even as i look around the campus, at the frightening droves of willowy blondes and preppy jock boys, their polished exteriors enough to make me insecure, and despite the inexplicable phenomenon of cornhole that seems to proliferate here, i can sense that i'm really going to miss this place next fall, when i will surely/hopefully be somewhere far, far away.

i know it's merely because i've gotten familiar with the place, have become accustomed to moving back to the same dorm for the past 4 years, am grateful to see the same familiar faces, to have such a strong community in which to wallow, enjoy coming back each year geared up and ready to fight for a cause i've been devoted to for over 5 semesters.

but...

this familiarity has me kinda scared too. comfort is overrated, even dangerous. keeping on your toes becomes kinda like floating, when you get good at it. and who doesn't want to defy gravity?

i got to thinking about this in one of my classes today. i was sitting in a class full of Education majors, a class called "Cultural Studies, Power, and Education," a class filled with typical Miami-types, feeling a little on edge because everyone in there was so white bread [sic]. the professor had been trying all of class to ease us into a radical mindset (which i gratefully dived right into), while we examined ads from the 90's that proffered 40's gender politics to preschool aged consumers. i glanced around the room to see students rolling their eyes, grimacing at the mention of atheism and Marxism, the girl beside me scrawling the word SOCIALIST in big letters across the first blank page of her notebook, and underlining it.

i give the professor a lot of credit. to open with that kind of radical leap in student expectation is truly courageous. i'm counting on a smaller class next time around.

anyway, this moment turned into a huge realization for my research into the practice of critical pedagogy:
for me (and i consider myself fairly radical, surprise, surprise), this first class wasn't unusual or myth-busting at all. in fact, it was too easy to agree with the professor, too natural to nod along, to laugh at his leftist jokes, to feel grateful for and, yes, comfortable with a liberal bias in the classroom.
on the other hand, my peers were noticeably unnerved, even perturbed, by the professor and what they must have perceived to be Commie rantings. and so, they were reluctant to engage, hesitant to open their minds to the possibility that advertisers care less about the consumer than about selling products.

and then i realized, looking around, everyone in this class was wearing nice Polo Ralph Lauren polo shirts, J Crew khakis, their heads gelled and kempt, glistening examples of Miami's "squarely in the box" reputation. of course they couldn't open their minds to cultural studies and critical pedagogy! it made them uncomfortable!

when capitalism is working for you, when you're comfortable with it, you see no need, no reason, to challenge it. comfort and capitalism are closely related, in fact, they are co-conspirators. in a society used to instant gratification, it becomes hard to get people used to stepping out of their comfort zones. why would they ever have to, if they can find a KFC wherever they go? same goes for ideological comfort zones.

existential discomfort = the worst kind.

thots!
-stef

---
speaking of familiars, you should get familiar with the guys over at Said the Gramophone. they keep one of the most beautifully written music blogs out there. in fact, it's one of only 2 i actually read on a regular basis. this post was particularly striking and appropriate for the approaching end of summer. FUN TIMES FOREVER.

this is going in a gilded frame above my bed at school next year.


so that, when i wake up every day dreading having to write my 80-page undergraduate thesis, i can look at this and think to myself, "well, at least i don't have problems like these..."

-stefanie

mo' money, mo' problems...

...or, something...

got back from WV with the fam! lost my momentum while mountain-biking on a steep slope of loose rocks and plummeted to a surprising non-death. considering the odds, i'm in good shape, just a few scratches on my knee, bum, and arm.

got some great footage of the parents singing John Denver while driving thru the WV mountains. will post later when i can access the harddrive again! (it's packed and ready for Oxford!)

so many things to do before i move back! how will i ever find all the space and time in which to do it?!

while sorting thru the myriad loose papers and random mementoes i've accumulated in the past 14 or so months, i (re)found these weird decision maps.



i remember finding them for the first time while doing laundry/ working late one night in the dorm.

these are merely a few of the small packet i found - there are oh-so many more! could there be a series of them, awaiting discovery?

the possibility is just too delightful to contemplate right now.
-stef

marathon (wo)man

as i mentioned yesterday, i ran a half marathon in my hometown of Lexington, KY, The Midsummer Night's Run.

my standards were pretty low, considering i haven't trained due to some persistent medical problems related to over-exertion (shin splints put me in physical therapy for 5 weeks this summer), and because i just returned from a grueling road-trip that left me exhausted, both from heat and probably malnutrition (i lost 8 pounds in 5 days!)

nevertheless, i finished. not in any sort of record-breaking time, but i did manage to stay in the upper half of the contestants. and i'll take that.

some glimpses of the moments before the race:

i am a runner...

... and he is my father's son.

this is what i'll look like when the gun goes off

timing chip - for keeping time

brother/sister combo

-stef

p.s. will be gone this next week with the fam in West Virginia, then packing to go back to school. drop a line and i'll say hey when i'm back in Oxford again!

things!

Ben playing music and trucks with Reina (6) and Kiran (3)

hi!

i hope the reader-ship hasn't threatened mutiny in the wake of my brief absence (get all the nautical references?? eh? eh? oh stop...)

i just returned from a 5-day road trip with my friend Ben across Kentucky, Tennessee, North Carolina, Virginia, and West VA. we spent our time visiting intentional communities along the way, working on farms, building houses, playing harmonica and guitar and drums and playing with kids, making cookies, meeting religious goat-milk enthusiasts and fending off their vigorous proselytizing, crossing rivers, surgical removal of sea ticks, going to the beach, flying kites, drinking chocolate beers, sleeping under stars and atop of cars in the forested mountains of VA/WV, and lots and lots of swerving driving and wavering navigational skills.

but, all told, it was a lot of fun, and a great way to see the country! i recommend it.

anyway, i'm tired from all the heat and the work, so i'm going to take a nap. i'm running a half marathon in an hour, i'll let you know how that goes!

godspeed,
stef

more thoughts on the 2008 Democratic campaign

in light of the provoking points my friend Brian brought up the other day, i'd like to append to my last post, in which i addressed what i think are important strategic concerns in regards to landing a Democrat in presidential office in 2008.*

---
BRIAN:
You raise some good points Steph, but two things may make that moot.

1. Immigration is not going away and any gains made by the right are being negated by the Hispanic vote moving left.

2. Iraq is the key and will determine who is elected. The more American casualties and violence, the more likely a Democrat will be elected.

---
yes, you're right. Iraq is a key (tho i would argue, not "the" key), and it is certainly affecting the way they're campaigning. but Iraq aside (since the Dems will, in large part, present similar strategies for getting out of Iraq), the vote still boils down to a matter of "how much change can our country handle?"

now, for my generation, this is a momentous point in our lived history. most of us can probably barely remember a States without the ludicrous Bush regime. any change will seem huge to us. but to have our first minority president, that will be TREMENDOUS! (and i'm not saying unwelcome...) even for other generations, our first woman or Black president will be a huge turning point in our nation's history, and i'm not sure if that much change right now is something America is ready for.

again, i hope i'm wrong. but many analysts have been saying, like you, that Iraq is the key. and many, unfortunately, still have terrorism in the back of their minds. and in the word of one political analyst, are "looking for a president who can protect us."

i just hope that we don't go seeking that kind of protection in something "safe."

-stef


*let me remind you, readers, that i am in no way claiming any sort of authority on the subject of formal politics. as i have said before, i tend to stay out of it as much as possible, preferring grassroots community-organizing to the two-party system. heck, i'm not even a political science major (or minor!) so my opinion is merely that of an interested observer, and hopeful citizen of the United States.

elections 2008: how to get a Democrat in office

don't want this to happen again? then we better rethink our voting strategy...

i try to stay out of formal politics as much as i can, and stick more to the immediacy of local grassroots organizing and community-building (that, to me, is where true democracy lives and breeds).

however, as an activist and as someone who would like to see significant progress made in my lifetime, i concede that we (the people) need help from those in more obvious states of power - the policy-makers, office-holders, our leaders and representatives in Washington - before we can realize progress.

and unfortunately, because of the sheer extremes the current administration has brought us to (widespread hatred for America and Americans, an international image of callous cowboy bravado), many - including myself - have decided that the only way to right our course is to elect a Democrat into office in 2008.

indeed, many activists have been working hard in the past years to build grassroots campaigns for Democrat candidates. in Ohio, recent election of Governor Strickland over Blackwell was seen as a huge win for the left. all over the nation, we are seeking a balance to the current administration by plugging in Democrats in every office imaginable.

so obviously, a lot is resting on the spot for Democratic candidate for President in 2008. and though i would LOVE to see either Barack Obama or Hilary Clinton make the ballot, i also have my reservations.

unfortunately, democracy in America is far more theory than practice: it's not "a government for the people, by the people," so much as a spectacle for the people to gawk and laugh at. (an emphasis on the idea of "spectacle" - we are not participating so much as we are watching.)

let's not forget that even if election by popular vote was actually practiced in the States (by which case Gore would have won and we could have avoided this discussion altogether), there still remains a stubborn majority of conservatives (and worse - neo-liberals!) in our country. conservatives who, even when faced with the travesties of justice inflicted on our nation by the Bush administration in the past 8 years, will still, undoubtedly, be reluctant to cast their vote for a Democrat, let alone a Black man or a woman (it's sad, but probably true).

what i fear is that neither of the forerunners in the Democratic camp will actually get elected. if offered a choice between a standard Republican candidate (from the country club set of old-fashioned white traditional values) and a minority candidate with liberal values, i fear most voters (not even just the conservative ones), even when reminded of the horrible events and misdeeds of the current administration, will still vote for the Republican.

regrettably, i don't think a majority of our citizenry is ready for change. at least, not the kind that would accompany the huge shift in paradigm that having Hilary or Obama in office would signify.

i hope i'm wrong. i really do. but it seems that if we want a Democrat in office in 2008, the best way is to vote John Edwards (he's got a kind of Kennedy feel about him...)

or is Al Gore still in the running...?

-stef

to hold you over

until i can get around to planning, recording, editing and posting another podcast, maybe this will hold you over: my playlist (@ last.fm)



you can follow/listen along with me during the week, keep track of what bands are really finger-strumming my strings this week, if ya know what i mean...

also, i've learned that i would give my right arm for a date with Michael Cera (i mean, he's so dreeaaameeeeey... and frickin' hilarious!)

ok, maybe not my right arm. but definitely my left. ok, maybe not that either... but definitely a kidney (left or right. yeah. that's how serious i am.)

peas out,
stef

pictures from Mongolia

photo credit: Chris Myers

the panopticon: Cebu Prison, Philippines and the role of YouTube in society

readers,

have you seen the prison dance tapes from Cebu Prison in the Philippines? they're quickly becoming huge hits on the web, and for good reason. they're amazing! seriously, i haven't seen musical theatre this good since i saw Les Miz on Broadway!

to be sure, just check out these meticulous recreations of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" and "I Will Follow Him" from Sister Act:





now i'm not sure if this is considered cruel and unusual punishment in the Philippines, but it makes damn good watching on Youtube. which makes me wonder: is the Filipino prison taking the panopticon to new extremes?

consider the function of the panopticon, and these observations regarding these bemusing videos:
-the costumes (a balding, pony-tailed, made-up male inmate, wearing a halter top with falsies portraying MJ's steady girlfriend as she is mobbed by zombies)

-the music (are they singing? is there a band? is the music being piped thru the prison loudspeakers? or is the music dubbed over the original soundtrack? if the latter, what are the prisoners dancing to in real-time? a Filipino version of "Thriller"/"I will follow Him"?)

-the choreography (the spot on renditions make me think they had someone teaching them. how does one teach 1000+ prisoners intricate dance moves from the 80s with success? and that someone must have sat and analyzed the music video for weeks to figure out the whole routine. that's quite a commitment to the spirit of dance.)

-the filming (who's holding the camera? and what makes them suspect the performance they caught on tape is merely a practice round, as they say, and not the real thing? is it a guard? a tourist? are they ushering tourists thru the prison grounds and charging them admittance fees? and doesn't this bring Titicut Follies to mind?)

AND, when one searches for the "Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center," the reputed site of these performances, one can find nothing written about the actual Center itself, its prisoners, or its practices, other than the recent buzz on the blogs about - that's right - the very dances that brought you to search for the Prison in the first place. isn't there something a little bemusing, a little existentially tautological about that?

finally, consider all this in relation to the medium:
-we're watching these videos on YouTube, a site that has grown into somewhat of a phenomenon, injecting the daily monotony of the average person to the same level of consciousness as ground-breaking news and celebrity sightings. you can find as many videos of average people ranting about Britney Spears as you can find actual video of Britney Spears.

-Youtube, unlike network news, is always on and always available. = someone is always watching.

considering this in light of these prison videos is incredibly revelatory of the current role Youtube might be playing in our society: the media, always influencing us in the most surreptitious ways, when placed in our own hands, has the ability to make us repeat itself to our own detriment.

take a look at any Youtube video and you will see what i mean. genres are making and perpetuating themselves everyday. the vlog rant. the celebrity satire. the video journal. there's a degree of comfort in seeing "average" people "just like us" on Youtube, while at the same time, comments like "shut up you f*in whore, you ugly faced b*tch" proliferate on every Youtube channel.

while a sense of democracy and control is bolstered by the success of Youtube, we can't help but feel the media's ability to enforce certain standards of appearance and form and style is not altogether eliminated in the process.

thus the panopticon. always watched = always controlled.

-stefan!e

this beat kicks back death

dear ship of devoted readers,

thanks to your kind encouragement and interest, i sat myself down for my friday night, and hammered out a rough idea of what a weekly podcast would look/sound like.

and so, i present to you, THE AVOCADO COUCH, PODCAST. (link to mp3 below)

some of you might recall that i used to have a shortly lived and strongly neglected radio show on the air waves during the school year. well, now you can possibly look forward to a shortly lived and strongly neglected podcast version of those shows (sans my former co-host).

in this week's show, i look at covers!
featured in the lineup, are mashups by Jens Lekman, a Cars cover by Scout Niblett, a Scout Niblett cover by Jens Lekman, and a dance party tune by The Field.

it's a rockin' good time in under 30 minutes! and what's more?! it's completely f***in' free!

so grab it quick, coz in 7 days it will be gone...

the avocado couch - 1 - covers [yousendit download]

your captain,
stefan!e

musical zeitgeist

i don't know whether to be sad or slightly amused by some of the recent trends in music i've observed. for example, i admit that i used to possess an unaware appreciation for "emo" music, until i found it had diverged into what my brother and i jokingly refer to as "screamo," a la Fall Out Boy and similarly poseur-esque boy bands.

i used to like Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes, until i got fed up with all his whining, and found his music didn't really take me anywhere. i never base an aversion for a singer/songwriter/performer based on genre alone, which is why i feel ok admitting that yes, i listen to Nelly Furtado, and i totally respect Kelly Clarkson for challenging the "popular" music industry and doing her own writing (even though, in general, i strongly despise the girl pop genre).

sometimes i wonder if all culture (and especially pop culture) isn't just a recycling of previous formulas. i get bored to death of hearing the same tunes playing incessantly over the radio. and i swear, even the best indie music is reusing some of its best licks (do i listen to too much music, or does it sometimes sound like musicians are blatantly rewriting their previous hits, or worse, the hits of other artists?)

but lately, i've found a ton of terrific new music from abroad, mostly Sweden (um, just to mention a few: Jens Lekman, The Knife, Peter Bjorn and John, El Perro del Mar. and the Field's "From Here We Go Sublime" is practically the soundtrack to my late summer nights). and i've been listening to some non-music, mostly new podcasts such as On the Media and Democracy Now! and comedy albums from funny men Patton Oswalt, David Cross (love!), Paul F. Tompkins, and Scharpling and Wurster. and, i just discovered a fantastic album by a collective of experimental instrumental artists, who've set the words of William S. Burroughs to funked up jazz/techno. thumbs, right?!

anyway, this whole thing was really just some pointless rambling to set up this brilliant clip from MadTV. i love this clip for so many reasons, first because i absolutely HATE the Calling and the song they are parodying. second, because it's absolutely true, music today sounds more and more like itself and the people who came before it, who did it much better. and finally, because i absolutely LOVE this caricature of Scott Stapp:

this is Scott Stapp.

this is an artist's rendering of Scott Stapp.

so, enjoy!


-stef

a fondness for small things

i love all things small. things that fit into a pocket, things i can hold in my hands, little animals and small children. i love apricots just because i feel like i'm eating a tiny peach.

---

i went for a walk today after dinner, and noticed - for the first time in a long time - the blinking of fireflies. and, for the first time i can remember since childhood, i cupped my hands to hold one. as i slowly unfolded my fingers, it climbed to the tip of my forefinger, perching on my metallic blue nail, and i was reminded of my fondness for small things.

i remember a childhood filled with fireflies. the first time i ever caught one, my family had gone out to a large building on the UK campus that i've always thought of as "The Barn," a white rectangular building across from the football stadium parking lot that really looks as if the second floor used to be a hay loft. the interior of the building was basically one continuous room with linoleum floors and a few poles to help hold up the roof. it was perfect for potlucks, and that's exactly what brought my family and the other 40 families of the Chinese School together that night. me and the other 45+ kids were rapidly consuming sugar and the excitement of so much company, and as the parents started up the karaoke machine, we all escaped outside.

the best part about The Barn wasn't the ex-loft, or the foosball table, or the interior that would have made a perfect indoor roller skating rink had someone with the proper resources and foresight discovered it. no, the best thing about The Barn was it's Barn-like yard. to a small elementary schooler, the block of uninterrupted grass skirted by trees was all we needed to feel free and alive. you could play tag, hide and seek (the unmowed grass was enough to conceal most of us), and Red Rover. and, in the later hours, when the summer humidity had begun to settle into a fine dew, there they would appear - the fireflies.


it was like being out in the country and finding yourself amongst the star-lit sky. only you could hold this fire in your hands. all 46+ of us stood in wonder of this blinking light, following one or two spots with our eyes, to have them disappear and reappear another inch away. my Father came out to check on us kids, showed me how to get close enough to extend my hand, a small globe for them to land.

i remember nights at home after a summer rain, when the lightning bugs would come out to drink the remaining droplets from the leaves. my brother and i would follow them out, catching them in our hands, picking our favorite pairs and sliding them gently into empty jam jars we'd specially decorate for them with leaves, twigs and grass sprinkled with sugar water. my brother and i would sleep contentedly in our beds those nights, foregoing our ubiquitous nightlights for the soft friendly glow of fireflies in empty jars. sometimes we'd wake up the next morning to find them sick or languid, their little antennae drooping behind glass. sometimes we'd keep them too long and become distressed at having extinguished such gentle light. (it wouldn't take us long to find that one night sleeping over in our bedrooms was enough for them. we soon adopted a one-night-only policy.)

summers for me have always meant only a handful of things: summer camps, swimming in the neighborhood pool just before dinner, bike rides with my family, barbeque on Sunday nights, and lightning bugs at night.

tonight, as i walk in my neighborhood, the lightning bug twirling around on the tip of my metallic fingernail, i remember my life measured in these smallest of degrees. seconds open up and reveal spools of memories wrapped inside, now long enough to fit all the years between the then and now, to collapse whole stages of my life inside one second, the blink of a firefly.

the last time i ever held a firefly in my hands was at a sleepover at my friend Meredith's house, on the cusp between Montessori elementary school and public middle school, a late midsummer night separating harmless childhood candidness from the guarded moodiness of early adolescence. it was the day i got my braces, the first time my friends and i, all crammed together in the basement of my friend's house, watch an R-rated movie without our parents (Stigmata, it was ok), and the first time i ever stayed up all night (it was also the first night back from vacation in Hawaii with my family, which gives me jet lag and a time difference of -5 hours, which makes it impossible to sleep). it was the first and last time i ever played pranks on my friends, and the last time i ever catch fireflies.

playing in my friend's backyard after pizza and ice cream, i find a lightning bug. i pick it up, and prepare to plop it into a disposable plastic soda cup that i'm already beginning to prepare with foraged foliage, when i notice his lethargic demeanor. he seemed ill, devoid of a will to live, would probably die even before spending a night in the cup. knowing nothing about lightning bug biology or remedies, but possessing a strong fondness for small things (and at this time, a still strong desire to become a veterinarian), i held the ailing lightning bug in one hand, while gently petting him on his wings with the tip of my smallest finger. i noticed a weak bulb and tried to offer verbal support, thinking it a matter of self-esteem. i offer him droplets of water on grass blades, and walk him around the yard, extending my palm so he can take a look around. i do this for probably 15 minutes (but again, the seconds have opened up to reveal whole decades, and my firefly and i have spent what feels like a significant part of our lives together) when i notice a flicker of light, a liveliness to the antennae, and a willful effort to fly. feeling i have just saved a life, i return inside, leaving Patrick (as i call him) on the ledge, free of the cup.

---

now, as i watch my new lightning bug perform pirouettes on my fingertip, and traverse the knuckles on my hand, i relive my childhood in the infiniteness of a few seconds, reminded of a fondness for small things.

and as i step onto my driveway, the firefly takes off, into the night sky...

the naming of things + 80's popculture + Chinese culture

[written 7/9/07, ~2 am]

my mother and i go for a walk in our neighborhood. it's just after 9, and on this mid-summer evening, the sun has only just set. everywhere, tinted blue and violet, but the humid stickiness of the July heat lingers in the air.

we walk in silence. i'm cranky with sleep, my jet lag and summer restlessness manifesting itself as unjustified moodiness, worsened by my frustration at the lack of conversation. my mother walks briskly, bumping into me on the awkwardly narrow sidewalk as we try to walk abreast of one another, the overgrown bushes nudging us into each other every twenty paces.

the tension is thicker than the summer humidity. i watch her bite her nails, wondering too why she can't carry on a conversation with her own daughter.

so tonight, i ask my mother about names, and how she and my father chose mine.

while the name i intend is actually my english name [Stephanie], my mother jumps immediately to my Mandarin name - Hsiao Jing (this disparity makes me flush slightly), explaining that my paternal grandmother chose my name. she then explains the Chinese naming process, a kind of "poetry."

she describes a poem, epically wrapping back in time, mapping generations and tracing family trees by stanzas and refrains. each branch of family history signaled by a line of poetry. i imagine an endless scroll, unwinding to reveal the flash of character that is my name.

"American names," she says, "are easy."

"They're just sounds. You just pick what sounds best."

my American name: purely 80's. my parents were deciding between 2 names - Connie and Stephanie. why those names? "because Connie Chung was well-known at that time," my mother explains, "everyone knew who Connie Chung was." and Stephanie? "after Princess Stephanie" (of Monaco). finally, they chose Stephanie because "Stephanie Lee" sounded better than "Connie Lee" (and thank heavens they did).

my brother's name is a similar story. Kevin was a popular name at the time (i can't help but wonder if this is at all a credit to Kevin Bacon's 80s fame), and Calvin Klein was hitting it big in the 80s. they thought Calvin Lee sounded better (little did they know that as a kid my brother would go around introducing himself as "Calvin, as in Calvin and Hobbes").

my mom then goes back to a day long before i was born, she is a beautiful young school teacher, accompanying my father as they move to Kentucky for his new job at the university. i imagine her face in the passenger seat window, gazing out, pondering names during the long drive before she arrives at the new home, stepping out of the car, suddenly "Angela" (b/c Americans never pronounce her given name with the beauty and delicacy it requires: Hsiao Hwa, like a fragile flower. it has the effect of dissociation, disconnect: "I never know if they're talking to me or not").

she goes back further still, to a day long before she married my father, she is a beautiful young university student, studying German, and she goes by Sabrina, Karinne, Sonya. a different name for every teacher.

as we come up to our driveway, i try Sabrina on my tongue, and try to remember the feeling of it, to store it in my mind in case i ever have a daughter... Sabrina.

---
memories like mohair sweaters,
Stephanie Lee / Li Hsiao Jing

blabracadabra

= the magic that ensues from a deluge of talking.

sorry for the lack lately, things have been unusual.


how unusual? perhaps they start by being undescribably so. mostly i'm depressed b/c i wish i had done something else with my summer. i blame Mongolia and China for this. after spending such a short amount of time in such beautiful and stimulating environs, it is hard to return to my home in Kentucky and not fill with consuming regret. and regret is one of my top least favorite feelings in the world. i'd say "an itch you can't scratch" and water-logged shoes are pretty close behind.

i've been seeing doctors to try to sort out some nagging pains in my legs and stomach. that hasn't helped things, i suppose. i've always harbored some vague suspicion i won't live beyond 40, but feeling like it is worse than thinking it.

early mortality is ok, once you learn to accept it. you just learn to think about things differently. for example, i'm 21 now, past middle age. that means i feel even more entitled to go out and party than a normal 21-yr-old, because i'm also going thru a midlife crisis. (what this means in actual practice is that i party half the amount a normal Miami girl does (while wearing twice the amount of clothing, i might add), get drunk maybe half that time, but can outdrink most of my friends. considering my size, i have an astounding tolerance. go figure.)

speaking of freedoms, i registered for classes this morning, and found out most of my classes fall on tuesday/thursday. which means, amazingly, a four-day weekend. that is, if i decide not to take Elementary Chinese. the thought of taking Mandarin in a formal educational setting is exciting and terrifying at once. i fear reliving my high school French days, when the awkward pedagogical stylings of one Madame Keegan made me drop out of French classes before my time. i love learning French now, and still speak and write at an acceptable proficiency, but i hate to think of that happening to my mother tongue. the very idea of studying it brings me back to Sunday afternoons cooped up by the window of the language building on the UK campus, wishing my Chinese School classes would be over so i could go home and play in the yard.

on my list of classes for the fall?
-Cultural Studies of Power and Education
-Human Development and the Learning/Educational Environment
-Studies in Educational Issues
& Senior Sem (or, as i'm lovingly dubbing it, "The Extraavaganzaa." or "XG" for short. kinda like exegesis. haha, oh stop it.)
+ possibly El. Chinese
(that's 17 credit hours, 5 of which are to the intense wrapping up of my senior thesis, another 3 of which are a capstone. is that too much for a senior year? sounds like i'll be needing the 4-day weekends!)

i found a guy who's starting a media collective in LA and wants me to work with him. i'm considering it, having no other really exciting things in my life right now. only problem is, he wants me to go in the fall, which means i won't get to finish this thesis 4 years in the making. i always get commitment-phobia this time of summer, though, so i'm feeling highly at risk of flight. i get this way too with a job that's almost done. when i'm getting to the last page of a term paper, that's always the hardest one (after the intro paragraph) to sit down and write, because i know i have the necessary words in me, it seems pointless to do it just to do it. i suspect i prefer to leave the last pages off, rather than finish them. isn't that more seductive anyway? the welcoming openness and potential of halfness, rather than the rigidity and futile arrogance of mistaken completion.

i've been reading Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides (the pre-Oprah's book club version, thank you very much). i'm loving the suggestive implications on human nature and the tension between nature and nurture. it has me wondering if everything we are, everything we do, the way we think, if our primordial unarticulated languages are indeed inherited. if perhaps, nothing is really possessed or uniquely "ours." if we are only mirrors reflecting endlessly into ourselves.

i am 21 years old, my own kind of middle-aged, but i am still afraid to grow up. the idea of going to grad school, or possibly getting a job, is terrifying. i find myself envying all the high school graduates, like my brother, who get to experience college for the first time. i've realized that college itself has become a new kind of security for me, that i will miss the familiar buildings and people after every summer. Summer itself, like Childhood, seems to be a constructed concept. no longer will i experience the clear divisions between school years by the blissfully relaxed laziness of Summer.

unwittingly, i have styled my life after the movies. this week, i painted the nails of one hand a sunny, daffodil yellow. the other hand, an icy, chrome-like blue. like the priest from Night of the Hunter, it seems i've polarized myself into love/hate. or i guess in my circumstance, sunny/cold. it seems i only have two options in these last days of Summer vacation.

BLABRACADABRA!
-stefan!e

mo/urnings

i set my alarm to wake me up gradually with music from my favorite local alt college station, WRFL. i catch the last few minutes of music before Democracy Now comes on, and they always play some terrific music, either familiar favorites that i can name in my half-awake sleepiness (those are the days that start off smoothly, with me rolling out of bed, seamlessly into the kitchen for a glass of juice and a bowl of cereal), or new, fantastic music i've never heard before. those are the days i jolt instantly awake, eyes open wide, jotting down lyrics in my brain so i can jump out of bed to skip over to the computer and look up snippets of lyrics (these are the days i eat toasted grainy breads with slabs of cheese and salami, drinking herbal tea)

on days like the latter - such as today - everything seems new. i hear the opening riff to Beck's "Lost Cause" in the moments before Amy Goodman and immediately try placing the voice that's singing to me. i never would have guessed Beck. i hop to the computer and conduct the search, wondering how i'd never heard this song before. another surprise: i already have the album in my collection (another one that slipped by without a careful listening). i wonder how i've never listened to Beck before. i'd always found his music average, not that compelling. but this morning has turned me on to it. as i write this, i've had Beck albums on loop for nearly a whole evening, pausing only to listen to some interspersed Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, and Jens Lekman.

among other surprises: i wear loose faded jeans on a hot summer day. i listen to a new/old mix tape from a friend (another one that slipped by). i paint my nails bright mango yellow. i learn new guitar chords by playing thru "Suspicious Minds" and "Every Day Is Like Sunday," even singing a little.

and after a summer of inconquerable inertia: i pick up my thesis again.

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

YES!
-stef

magic*

a video, this time from Beijing.

to be more specific, from the basement of a Beijing super mega mall/ food court.

i consider my careful/ auspicious placement/ capture of the reflections to be a compelling critique/ comment on globalization in China, and a plea for cultural conservation.



the green light's right here!
-stef

Mongolia video #1 (car running version)

more coming! but for now, a video!

-stefan!e

the peace of wild things

for today, a poem
that a friend recited
while we were having breakfast in a ger on the Mongolian steppes.

----
The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

-Wendell Berry

i'm baaack!

"Сайн байна уу" and " 你 好 " ！

i have returned from my extensive travels in the East, and have much to report!

but first, much sleep.

i haven't adjusted to home time, which is exactly the opposite of Mongolia/China time. that is, 12 hours in the future.

and i haven't quite gotten used to using English again. that will take some getting used to. the words come funny, slowly. give it time.

there are foodstuffs and gifts, words and pictures to unpack!

let's begin...
-stephan!e

where'd stephan!e go?

stephan!e is out of town (and country).

please check back for sweet updates & pictures from her wild adventures in the Mongolian steppes!

-stef

travel advice for those visiting Mongolia

Ugluunii mend!
("good morning!" i'm learning, with help from friends, as you'll see below. keep reading...)

a kindly reader alerted me in my last post that he currently lives in Mongolia. he was kind enough to give me a special list of tips and advice in preparation for my travels to the land of Blue Sky, a special post i will share with you now:

----
A SPECIAL INSIDER'S GUIDE TO TRAVELLING IN MONGOLIA
by Mr. L.Gantulga

Dear Stephanie,

Thank for your e-mail. I was read the your blog from Internet. I am as system administrator and researcher at Mongolian Academy of Sciences. I think that it is possible to organize some trip in Mongolia for you but it is depending your schedule.


Some words:
Good morning – Ugluunii mend.
I – Bi.
You – Ta.
to study – sudlakh.
Thank you – Bayarlalaa.
Bye – Bayartai.

HANDY TIPS
Mongolia considered to be relatively safe place for travelers with no serious crimes against foreigners. Neverless, some precautions can save you money, time and nerves.
• Bring preferably U.S. dollars in cash, $20 and $50 denominations
• Best place to exchange currency is Exchange Point at the first floor of the ARD Cinema, one block west from the Central Post Office as they offer slightly better rates than banks.
• When traveling to countryside make sure to take along cigarettes, soap, colored pens, a couple of bottles of alcohol and sweets as a small gift to cheer up local hosts.
• You can't book domestic return flights in advance, so stop at the MIAT or other companies local ticket office as soon as you arrive at each destination, or see if your guide can take care of it.
• Do not carry big amounts of money with you. Beware of pickpocketers, especially in crowded places or while riding public buses.
• The streetlights in Ulaanbaatar function only along the central streets, so do not walk lately or keep well lit central streets.
• Mongolian drivers do not care much about pedestrians. Make sure to look left and check for an approaching car before crossing streets.
• It is advisable not to eat in small canteens as the quality of food is not guaranteed. And it's better to buy foodstuff from large shops or food markets where cool storing equipment is available.
• If possible, make a copy of your passport and bear it on you while leaving the original in the hotel.
• Do not leave personal belongings unattended. They can easily disappear.

Best wishes,
Mr., L.Gantulga
System Administrator
===========================
Mongolian Academy of Sciences

HARRY POTTER SECRETS REVEALED!

so the 7th book of the Harry Potter series is going to be released July 7, 2007. (the 7th book. on 7/7/07. oh JK Rowling, u so clever!)

and a whole MONTH before that time comes, i've got a huuuuge spoiler for you! yes, that's right, u could even call it... a GIANT spoiler:

SOMEONE GETS DATE-RAPED IN THE FINAL HARRY POTTER BOOK!

what, don't believe me? check out this special report from the correspondents at The Onion:

J.K. Rowling Hints At Harry Potter Date Rape

wow, i might actually read it now.

enjoi!
-stephan!e


p.s. my 2 favorite parts:

JK: "it was always my plan to have a character date-raped in the final book, but it was just a matter of deciding out [sic] who, or what, the rapist would be..."

Harry Potter look alike [speculating on who or what the rapist would be]: "giants are aggressive sexually"

hello, Mongolia!

sain baina uu!

that's "hello" in Mongolian. or "Сайн байна уу" to be truly authentic. (that's Cyrillic for those keeping track at home!)

i'll be in Mongolia in a matter of days, researching participatory education and its role in community-based conservation efforts in the Mongolian steppes.

when i first decided to do this, ppl kept asking me "why Mongolia?" and aside from a superficial knowledge of the nomadic lifestyle (which fascinates me, as someone studying communities, their formation and role in education) and what i'd been told about the conservation of their wild horses, i didn't really know...

but after some research, i'm getting pretty excited. Mongolia is one of the few countries that remains relatively un-modernized. and the Mongolia i'll see will be much more authentic than the experience of this travel blogger, who had this to say about Mongolian food:

"Many tourists seems to think they are somehow obliged to try local food to get a feel for the local ... food. I have only got two things to say: "you're not" and "don't"."

he instead recommends eating Marco Polo pizza at the Circus everyday, which is what he did. hm... somehow i think i'll fare much better. i'll be living out in the steppes (the grassland) in an authentic Mongolian ger, which are basically tents made of felt!

(that stuff on the roof is cheese made from goats' milk. notice the lack of trees and brush in the background. the desert steppes are fairly devoid of coverage. = makes for interesting (read: awkward) restroom breaks...)

and i'll be meeting and working with nomadic herders on local conservation efforts, particularly the projects to reintroduce the Wild Horses,

a.k.a. Przewalski’s horse (or takhi), these horses have struggled to survive, altogether disappearing from southern Russia and the edges of China, where they once roamed. there are only about 1500 worldwide, and mostly in Mongolia, where the herding lifestyle of the Mongolian ppl may have saved them.

and the Pallas Cat, endangered b/c efforts to control the erupting rodent population, which is stressing the already over-grazed grasslands, with rodenticide may cause inadvertent poisoning of the Cat population.

(aren't they cute?! they hide out in burrows (as pictured), which is how they catch their prey. we're not likely to see one in real life, but i've been training myself to look for the little tufts of white ear fur - the most we might hope to see. more info and another picture here.)

anyway, i have more research to do. this experience comes with a Course Reader that's dense at best, and a whole lotta packing to do. let's see if i can stuff all my belongings for an international adventure into just one rucksack and a purse and still manage to carry it onto the plane!

-stef!e


p.s. for a description of what i'm doing, see this.