Reads(2017)

My reading life during 2017 focused on understanding the times in which I live, both at home and abroad.  To that end, I read countless articles, both in mainstream newspapers and online publications.  To hang on to my joy, I interspersed fiction runs, some of it pure escapism.  My mind and my soul thanked me.  So, on this last day of January, here are my significant reads for 2017, should some of them pique your curiosity.

Again this year, I made the most of my subscriptions to great newspapers. 

From the New York Times, I always read

·  Paul Krugman (anything he writes);

·  Charles Blow (check out The Lowest White Man);

·  Nick Kristof (What We Can Learn from S-HoleCountries). 

The occasional columnists get me thinking too.  Try this article by Linda Greenhouse, The El Salvador Tragedy.

From The Washington Post, I usually click on anything by Jennifer Rubin,  E. J.  Dionne Jr., Dana Milbank, and cartoonist Tom Toles.  Check out the Opinion section here.  Phil Lee has a great op-ed on racism that hits close to home.

At the Globe and Mail, I look for perspectives from Margaret Wente and John Ibbitson.  Refreshing subjects and slants spur reflection on a range of subjects from stereotypes of Americans  to where to eat insmall-town Saskatchewan from Amy Rosen.

I’ve branched out to edgier publications as well, like the Establishment.  Ijeoma Oluo, for example, takes no prisoners in her piece on Trump supporters and white supremacists.

No wonder, then, with all this heavy stuff, that I often gravitate to what I hope might be lighter fare.  That’s how, about this time last year, I discovered Amy Krouse Rosenthal in the New York Times, with You Might Want to Marry My Husband.  No spoilers here—let’s just say that, after reading this piece, I read as much of AKR as I could find, purchased her books for my grandchildren, and sent a few in my daughter-in-law’s direction.  Although there are so many yet to explore, here are some  favorites:

This Plus that

! Exclamation Mark

Little Pea

I Wish You More

That’s Me Loving You

Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life

What were some of the fiction highlights?

·  The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood, no less powerful because I saw the series first, is an eloquent and stark representation of the speed with which our world can change when we’re not looking, when, as Atwood puts it, we are living in between the lines and in the margins of the newspaper articles alerting us to danger.

·  Elena Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels, all four of them.  Ferrante can astound with penetrating insight one minute, as she does in The Story of the Lost Child, where she comments: To carry out any project to which you attach your own name you have to love yourself, and shock you the next.    Be prepared for violence and abuse at the cellular level of family.  These are tough and disturbing reads.

·  The Buried Giant from 2017 Nobel Prize winner for literature,  
  Kazuo Ishiguro, a tale of an elderly couple searching for their past and their son,  as well as

·  Never Let Me Go from the same author,  the story of young people cloned to supply transplant organs to the affluent class.  Both books ask questions about memory.  Ishiguro wonders about the circumstances when either remembering or forgetting are advantages or disadvantages.  

In non-fiction books, I recommend

·  American Fascists:  The Christian Right and the War on America  (2008) by Chris Hedges.  I admire Hedges’ work, having read The Empire of Illusion: The End of LIteracy and the Triumph of Spectacle years ago.   With implacable clarity, he exposes the changes in values the Christian Right imposes on society.  Look for his articles and interviews at Truthdig.

·  The First Coming : How the Kingdom of God Became Christianity by Thomas Sheehan (1986).  A séminal read in my faith life, this account of the life of Jesus centers on his efforts to live the kingdom of God in the present. 

Not much respite in that catalogue, is there?  Lots of heavy reads, reflective of our times.  I wonder if my penchant for disturbing non-fiction combines my sense of duty with a rebuke of all the distractions society provides to keep us from noticing what's going on.  As the Post reminds us, "Democracy dies in darkness."  Best to be as aware as we can manage.

Mojo

I don’t always open up the Education Update from ASCD (Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development) the very minute it comes in the mail.  The hard copy still arrives monthly, six months into my practical departure from the official business of education.  So, fresh from a resolve to process the mail just once, when the October issue arrived, I took a look.  10 Ways to Get Your Mojo Back, the front page article promised (ASCD Education Update, Volume 59, No. 10, October, 2017), if you’re "battling the October blues."   Although I’m not in the classroom anymore, and it’s no longer October, I thought I might benefit from these tips any old day of the year.   Now that a new year has dawned, and given the layers of treacherous ice caking the streets and sidewalks at the moment, as well as the obscene cold,  today might still be a good time to reflect on  one’s mojo. 

In that context, then,  here are some tips that Sarah McKibbon has collected from 2017 American State and National Teachers of the Year.  I wondered how they might relate to my retired life. (Teacher colleagues, click here for the professional article.)  For me, they’re a useful guide, a sort of secular examination of conscience.

1.              Find Strength in Your  *****

Fill in the blanks for yourself.  For teachers, the recommendation is to find strength in students.  I find my strength wherever I can, mostly in my children, whose courage, resilience, and knowledge amaze me daily.  I think of people I know who have faced cancer and terminal illness with a smile.  Others have emigrated to Canada to start a new life, or started over from zero after losing all their possessions in a cataclysmic natural disaster.  Sources of strength and inspiration are everywhere.

2.             Learn Something New

My harp and I continue to spend lots of quality time together  in concentrated practice and fun.  In baby steps, I work on the exercises and new music I acquired at the Northern Lights Harp Festival in Cornwall, Ontario, in October.   To push myself even more, I memorize.   Here, I’m way out of my comfort zone.  The good news:  my comfort zone is broader than it used to be.

3.             Pull Out All the (Instructional) Stops

I have to accept that, right now, there’s no more room in the day for more pulled-out stops, if I want to do right by those already in play.

4.             Battle Your Boredom

I don’t bore easily, so I’m skipping over this one.  In fact, my daughter confided in me a few years ago that, as a child, she thought « boring » was a swear word.  It might as well have been!

5.             Find Your Tribe

Quality, not quantity, is my mantra around friends.    To those who light up my life, intentionally and unaware, thank you.   I’ve realized that the tribe has a converse, and that focusing on the needs of others gets me out of any funk of mine.

6.             Hit Pause and Reflect

Look back on your accomplishments, the author says.  Save any thank you notes, and reread them when you feel down.   Check.

7.             Never Let Your Flame Go Out

That one needs determined effort, every single day.  You have to fight for your joy.  Many times, I’ve had to paste on the smile, get on with the day, and simply refuse to feel smothered.

8.             Take a Hike

It’s true—exercise is a must, like brushing your teeth.  

9.             Have Coffee with a Mentor

See #5, above.    True confession—I’ve never been much of a coffee-er.  So, there’s some room for expansion here.

10.          Resist the Isolation

It’s fitting that this one should be last in the list, the tip that most applies to me.  As I age, I’m comfortable in my own space, with my people, my projects and my routine.   My passions require a lot of solitary investment—reading, music, writing.  Isolation can be insidious, though.  The trick would be, I suppose, to find the social dimension of those passions and cultivate them.  Stay tuned for an update on how I do on this one.

Out of ten, maybe eight have some momentum?  There’s consolation in that, and some balance.  The take-away from the exercise: Reflect on the accomplishments, and keep what still could be further developed in perspective.