If I needed any actual evidence that America has a new president (we do, in case you've been in Ulan Bator and somehow missed the coverage), I get the sense that we are now awash in stories telling us more than we ever wanted to know about Barack Obama and all his kith and kin. No detail of the Obama's private lives seems too trivial to merit a story about it. We get to hear about the First Dog. We get to hear about what kind of White House china Michelle intends to pick out--not the official White House china every First Lady picks out, but what kind of china she intends to use in the White House's private areas. And a few weeks ago, we got to hear all about the First Mother-in-Law's taking up temporarily residence in the White House, to help smooth over her granddaughters' transition into Washington.
According to a New York Times article of January 10th, Marian Robinson's arrival in the White House has produced some trifling amount of friction in the First Family. She approves neither of the rules Barack and Michelle set about watching television (the Obama girls apparently watch less than an hour a day), nor of the Obamas' penchant for preparing healthier versions of unhealthy foods. Bless the woman's heart! She actually said, "if you're going to have fried chicken, have fried chicken." (Sadly, the Times left to readers' imaginations Mrs. Robinson's opinions on black-eyed peas, fatback, and watermelon).
If the First Mother-in-Law still has qualms about moving to Washington, however, I might suggest another home, one she has already visited: my EFL classroom.
Mrs. Robinson made her appearance today in an elementary group I have been teaching now for about a month. My students in this class are a group of corporate wives from Tajikistan whose studies are, apparently, financed by their husbands' firm, a major Russian investment company. Today, I had the privilege of teaching them English vocabulary about the family as well as the use of the possessive 's. Looking for an interesting hook, I decided to use the Obama-Robinson clan.
In retrospect, I should have done my homework a little more thoroughly for this. I couldn't for the life of me remember either Marian's name and had to put Barack and Michelle's parents up on the board simply as Mr. and Mrs. (even more inaccurate, since Barack Obama's parents are no longer married). A group of Tajik ladies now also believes that Michelle Obama has a brother named Eugene, because I hadn't remembered to look up his real name. Apparently, it's Craig, and he's a professional basketball coach. Go figure.
On the other hand, I did get to correct one of my students' misimpressions that Barack Obama is a Muslim. Yep, that story has apparently made it as far as Tajikistan. I managed to explain, in halting Russian, that many people in America think this, but it's not actually true. Ah well. At least nobody asked me if our Commander-in-Chief is a magic Negro.
So here's to you, Mrs. Robinson. Whether Jesus loves you more than you will know, I will not fathom to guess. But my ladies from Tajikistan think you're pretty cool.
28 February 2009
25 February 2009
The Waiting Game
Just in case you thought I had fallen off a cliff somewhere in the vast expanse of Russia, I haven't.
I apologize to all of my regular readers for not having blogged in, now, more than a month. The simple truth is that there has been little of interest to blog about. My applications to grad school are all complete, though my confidence that I have applied to the right programs, or that this is the right time to go to school, are not. Last week, I had telephone interviews with deans at American Jewish University and Jewish Theological Seminary, the two Jewish programs to which I had applied. I can't say that either of them went especially well. I am honestly not sure whether I came across as an interesting but very strange person, an outright lunatic, or both. What I definitely did not come across as was someone who was well prepared for these interviews and was certain this was what he wanted to do with his life. It's just plain hard to come across as something you in fact are not.
Right at the moment, I am more interested in the programs at Penn and NYU to which I applied in early January. These are programs in Intercultural Communication (Penn) and International Education (NYU), both of which could potentially take me in multiple directions but both of which I would most likely use as a springboard to finding work as a university international students' advisor, director of study abroad programs, or similar. The idea of working in academia suits me well and, to tell the truth, always has. At times I think I might even be better to give up thinking of these programs, continue teaching abroad for another year, and work toward applying to a PhD program in history.
For the time being, however, all I can really do is play the Waiting Game--wait and see where I do in fact get in and how that narrows my choices of where to go. I am at the moment evenly divided about whether I would prefer the program at Penn or at NYU. Perhaps the admissions decisions will settle the matter, perhaps not.
Even if they don't, however, this need not be the end of it. I could always reapply next year. And even if I get in an decide to attend, neither of these programs would necessarily rule out the possibility of getting a PhD later on. I have learned recently that more than a third of PhD candidates begin their programs at least 7 years out of college--a milestone I will reach next year. Recently, I asked someone I know in New York who is knowledgeable about the academic life if there is ever a point when it's "too late" to begin a PhD program, and he said absolutely not. In fact, he knew of someone who had nearly but not actually completed not one but three PhD programs in his life (basically, this person had just failed to complete three different dissertations). Opportunity still abounds.
I apologize to all of my regular readers for not having blogged in, now, more than a month. The simple truth is that there has been little of interest to blog about. My applications to grad school are all complete, though my confidence that I have applied to the right programs, or that this is the right time to go to school, are not. Last week, I had telephone interviews with deans at American Jewish University and Jewish Theological Seminary, the two Jewish programs to which I had applied. I can't say that either of them went especially well. I am honestly not sure whether I came across as an interesting but very strange person, an outright lunatic, or both. What I definitely did not come across as was someone who was well prepared for these interviews and was certain this was what he wanted to do with his life. It's just plain hard to come across as something you in fact are not.
Right at the moment, I am more interested in the programs at Penn and NYU to which I applied in early January. These are programs in Intercultural Communication (Penn) and International Education (NYU), both of which could potentially take me in multiple directions but both of which I would most likely use as a springboard to finding work as a university international students' advisor, director of study abroad programs, or similar. The idea of working in academia suits me well and, to tell the truth, always has. At times I think I might even be better to give up thinking of these programs, continue teaching abroad for another year, and work toward applying to a PhD program in history.
For the time being, however, all I can really do is play the Waiting Game--wait and see where I do in fact get in and how that narrows my choices of where to go. I am at the moment evenly divided about whether I would prefer the program at Penn or at NYU. Perhaps the admissions decisions will settle the matter, perhaps not.
Even if they don't, however, this need not be the end of it. I could always reapply next year. And even if I get in an decide to attend, neither of these programs would necessarily rule out the possibility of getting a PhD later on. I have learned recently that more than a third of PhD candidates begin their programs at least 7 years out of college--a milestone I will reach next year. Recently, I asked someone I know in New York who is knowledgeable about the academic life if there is ever a point when it's "too late" to begin a PhD program, and he said absolutely not. In fact, he knew of someone who had nearly but not actually completed not one but three PhD programs in his life (basically, this person had just failed to complete three different dissertations). Opportunity still abounds.
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