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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I\'m an opinionated, snarky, gay academic with a predilection for the history, the Arab world, languages, photography, food, and music. I live in Austin, Texas. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘university’



Taste the Rainbow, Bitches!

Thursday, May 14th, 2009

Bad joke from a colleague:

Q: What does a gay drive-by shooting look like?
A: A bunch of guys in a pink Ford Focus throwing Skittles out the window, screaming “Taste the rainbow, bitches!”

There’s been an awful lot in the press lately about the relationship between the Obama administration and gays (specifically, that there really isn’t one).

Andy Towle jumped on the bandwagon today, citing an appearance by Dan Savage on MSNBC in which the sex-advice columnist and go-to homo spokesman (who knew?) said that if he could give the Obama Administration a letter grade on GLBT issues, it would be an F.  By way of further discontent Andrew Sullivan is quoted in a scathing piece he wrote in the Atlantic about Obama’s administration.

I should point out here–because Towle didn’t–that I loathe Sullivan on a level that I normally reserve for the neo-conservatives who are gunning for my job and think that, as an employee of the University of Texas, I ought to be taking orders from the Central Intelligence Agency.  The simplest reason for this is that Andrew Sullivan is a neoconservative xenophobe.  Before he jumped on the anti-Bush bandwagon (which he did long after anyone with sense and reason had done so), he was a die-hard Bushite, supporting the invasion of Iraq and a “stone the Muslims before they stone us” foreign policy.  Just because he was never on the Obama bandwagon doesn’t make him any less than a bear in sheep’s clothing.

I don’t honestly have a problem with the outrage.  I just don’t share it.  When it comes to Obama and what he’s done for gay rights in the first 100+ days of his term in office, while combatting the worst financial crisis since the Great Depression, trying to wind down the war in Iraq, trying to ramp up the war in Afghanistan and trying to figure out how not to get involved in a brewing civil war in Pakistan, dealing with a new, unco-operative adminsitration in Israel, a Congress that won’t play nice with itself, and get key Cabinet posts filled (among a few other things), I am … well, that’s just it.

I am reminded of a scene in Coupling where Steve, looking at fabric for sofa cushions, tells Jeff and Patrick, “I almost had an opinion about that one.”

I recall having a lengthy IM chat with my friend Michael back in primary season (gods, remember that debacle?) in which he expounded at some length his suspicion that Obama didn’t really care about gays.  (Which president has?)  On the other hand–and maybe this is really pollyanish of me–were people waiting in the wings to jump down Bush’s throat 100 days in about all the things he hadn’t managed to accomplish yet?  Part of me feels like there’s a lot of selfishness going on: everyone wants Obama to pay attention to their issues first.  It’s a logistical impossibility.

I’ll probably be stripped of my membership card and secret pink parking pass for saying that I just don’t understand the vitriol … yet.  It does, however, bring to mind some of the doubts that I had about Obama: I kind of wonder if he’s just too bloody nice to be president.  There’s something of Jimmy Carter about the man.  He who tries to make everyone happy makes no one happy.  Sullivan, Savage et. al. would argue that he isn’t making us happy, and I guess he isn’t.  Maybe I’m just happy that he’s not out to get us like the last guy was.

I’ve got other battles to fight closer to home, and I’m willing to wait a little while longer to see how things go.  But maybe not too much longer.

And I still think Sullivan’s a creep.

12 of 12: May 2009

Tuesday, May 12th, 2009

It’s time, once again, for 12 of 12!

This month … the 12th falls once again on a Tuesday.  I’ll admit it, fellow 12ers, I’m tapped out.  I’m out of ideas on how to make a normal Tuesday in the office seem interesting, so this month I played around with post-processing and making the photos look cool after the fact.  Nearly all of these are presets for Lightroom that have been developed by the very cool Matt Kloskowski — if you like them, check out his Web site and download your own.

Anyway …

6:50 am: Tollway to heaven?

May09-1

On the way to work …

7:47 am: Wasting Water

May09-2

OK, maybe not.  The University does collect all of its wastewater and use it in the campus-wide cooling system.  But, damn, do they have to water those stupid ferns every morning?  It’s starting to look like Jurassic Park!

7:48 am: Iconic Architecture

May09-3

The Texas Union and the Tower atop the Main Building.  Doesn’t get more picture postcard-y than that!  I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: my undergraduate institution looked like something that Stalin might have built to subdue Poland, so I do enjoy the limestone and red clay-tile roofs.

7:51 am: Stephen F. Austin is a Zombie!

May09-4

OK, I give up.  What do you think this mural is saying?

7:53 am: Shadow and Light

May09-5

The lady at Jamba Juice was taking too long to make my smoothie, so I started making her nervous by taking a picture of the shadow pattern on the floor.  That’ll learn ‘er.

8:49 am: Ready to work … ?

May09-6

We’re getting ready to publish a new edition of the book Year of the Elephant by the Moroccan writer Laila Abouzeid.  I offered to fund part of the publication if we can market the books to classrooms, which necessitates writing a study guide.  Somehow that wound up being my job.  So, I’m sitting here trying to send “go away” vibes while reading the book and taking copious notes.  The problem is that this tactic never works — I don’t really have space in my office to spread out while I read, but people interrupt me if I use the conference table.  I’ve got to find a better place to work on stuff like this.

10:25 am: Facebook silliness!

May09-7

Which Middle Eastern Dictator Am I?  Turns out I’m Hafez al-Asad from Syria!  Armed with this information, I can now safely declare my life complete.  (I would have guessed King Hussein of Jordan, but whatevs.)

3:11 pm: Playin’ with Clay

May09-8

I’m supposed to give a talk in a few weeks on “the Islamic City,” and, unlike other talks, I’ve decided not to wait until the last second to think about what I want to say on the topic.  However, there’s a bit of a problem with the ability to work uninterrupted that I previously mentioned.

But, look!  This guy who wrote this book made models of the city plans of the 7th century Arab cities with clay, and he published them in his book.  That’s so cool!  I want to do that.  I could … and probably have … drawn maps of medieval Cairo on cocktail napkins.

Why, yes, I am a massive dork.  Why do you ask?

5:31 pm: Doggie grin

May09-9

It’s already too hot to walk Mocha in the afternoons – it’s been in the mid 90s for the past two weeks (mid 30s for those of you who speak Celsius).  I’m trying to train her to get used to evening walks, but she still follows me around the second I get home.  It’s always me when she wants a walk, and Ray when she wants food.

5:35 pm: Baby Limes

May09-10

I’m trying not to be the obsessive plant stalker and inspecting my garden every day … just every few days.  I’ve got some Hungarian wax peppers almost ready to pick, and the lime tree has little baby limes all over it.  They’re about the size of a pistachio right now, but they’ll get there…all at once.  And then I’ll have to figure out what to do with dozens of limes.

6:03 pm: Party Planning

May09-11

Ray’s birthday is coming up, and so there will be a party.  I’m trying to make a shopping list so that I can hit the grocery tomorrow because Thursday evening will be spent wrapping jalapeños in bacon.  If you haven’t tried it, don’t knock it.

This is the fun kind of homework.  Certainly more fun than this:

May09-12

Yeah, I brought my work home with me.  Ray has to study tonight for his macroeconomics final, so I figured I’d make some productive use of the quiet time.  And I’d probably better stop posting my 12 of 12 and actually get to it!

Happy 12th everyone!

Readin’, Ritin’ and Revivin’

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

There are some times that I am less OK living in Texas than others.  The passage of the state’s second Defense of Marriage Act was one of them.  I fear we’re coming up on another, and I feel like I should be able to do something about it, but I don’t know what.

It’s come to the attention of just about everyone that the State Board of Education has been taken over by a bunch of radical loonies.  These are the sorts of conservatives who make conservatives uncomfortable, and somehow they managed to take over the body that’s charged with revising and implementing educational standards at the K-12 level.  (Thank Bob it’s only K-12.)

This would be the same board chaired by a dentist (!) from College Station who came under fire shortly before the board’s final vote on revised science standards for endorsing a book that referred to supporters of evolution as “monsters,” “atheists,” and “morons.” I want to make it clear that the board currently leans in the direction that believes that if you ain’t their kind of Christian, you’re not a Christian at all.  (The fact that this is exactly the kind of logic that Osama bin Laden and his ilk use is the kind of irony that isn’t lost on me, but would be shot down as “totally different” were it brought to their attention.)

Earlier this year, a call went out for people to review the social studies standards.  As an historian who works with K-12 educators a lot in my line of work, I put my name in.  I didn’t get selected, and it didn’t take long enough to realize why.  I didn’t know that the SBOE member who represents my district had sent out an e-mail claiming that Obama was a terrorist sympathizer, and that an attack by said terrorists would take place in the first six months of his administration, followed by the implementation of martial law.  (Perhaps we should secede just in case?)

Clearly my passioned e-mail describing my committment to global competencies was a bad idea.

I know several people who did get appointed to the committees (two of them went with me to Egypt in 2005).  One of them, a University professor at a rival institution, was appointed to the economics review committee and managed to cause a horrific furor when he had the audacity to suggest that the term “free enterprise system” be replaced with “capitalism” in the standards.  “Capitalism,” after all, is what it’s called in every college textbook, and he thought that it would be appropriate for K-12 students to use the same terminology that they would use in college.  Why call the same thing two different names?

To say that this was received very badly would be an understatement.  As I was told later, when one of the SBOE members saw this proposed change, she stood up and screamed, “What kind of anti-American sonofabitch did this?  You should be ashamed!  I swear, whoever you are, if you were one of my appointments, you can consider yourself fired!”  (note: committee members are unpaid – it’s all volunteer work.)

My other friend wrote me to say that, while her committee was congenial, others were concerned that “too much attention” was being paid to the rest of the world at the expense of “our” history. Another friend told of how someone was appointed to her review committee–which was to oversee one of the years of world studies–whose sole purpose was to state over and over that he had moral objections to students studying other cultures.

For the record, Texas schoolchildren have two years of American history (grades 8 and 11), one year of government (grade 12), one full year of Texas history (grade 7), world cultures (6), world history (10), and world geography (9).  More than one board member has stated the desire to replace either the 9th or 10th grade course with a third year of American history, apparently being unaware that the 12th grade government course is entirely American history content.

It gets better.

After the first round of review committee meetings, the board cancelled the second round, apparently afraid that further anti-Americanism might ensue, so they’ve decided to appont an “expert panel” to guide the revision process.

First up?  David Barton and the Reverend Peter Marshall.

In his books and teachings, [David Barton] argues that separation of church and state is a myth and that America’s laws should be based solely on Biblical scriptures. His numerous claims include that the Bible forbids income and capitol gains Taxes. Barton’s views are so far right that even such groups as the Texas Baptists Committee and the Baptist Joint Committee have been vocal critics of his interpretations of history and the U.S. Constitution.

Even better: “Marshall has previously suggested that the California wildfires and Hurricane Katrina were divine punishments on society for the tolerance of homosexuality.”

TODAY comes the news that they’re considering LYNNE CHENEY for the expert panel.

Cheney is well-known for crusading against national history and social studies standards in the 1990s, calling the standards–which the National Endowment for the Humanities helped fund while Cheney was its chair–”grim and gloomy.” Cheney also denounced the standards as a monument to political correctness, claimed they gave insufficient attention to Confederate General Robert E. Lee and the Wright brothers and focusing far too much on figures like Harriet Tubman, and worried that they concentrated too much on embarrassing episodes in the nation’s history, such as the Ku Klux Klan and McCarthyism.

Outraged?  You should be.  The science standards revision made us uncomfortable by flirting with intelligent design–this will make us look like fools.  The next revision won’t happen for another decade, by which point our students will be the laughingstock of the country.

I still can’t tell what can be done about this twisted version of Evangelicals Gone Wild!  I’ve got half a dozen pleas in my inbox to help find real experts to testify before the SBOE, but it’s obvious they don’t care what people like us think.  If you live in Texas, write your state legislator–seriously.  The Lege is already moving to restrict the power of the SBOE after the science and English debacles.

I know that there’s probably very little that I can do about this … but I’ll feel better when it’s all over knowing I did what I could.

Flärk.

Wednesday, March 11th, 2009

So, I walked into a door this morning.

That’s pretty much the end of the story right there.  Have a nice one, folks!

Seriously, though.  One of the (admittedly very) few concessions that the university has made toward the Differently Abled is that we’ve installed these motorized automated doors everywhere.  Most of the time, they open just like normal doors–kinda–and if you want them to open automatically, you have to push a square button located at chair height.  One could argue that this doesn’t make them automatic, but that’s not the point of this particular story.

For reasons I’ve never been able to fathom, the door in the back of the student union, which is a convenient pass-through on days like today (cold and rainy), is truly automatic (although it has a button anyway).  When you get close, it opens.  Sometimes, especially first thing in the morning, it seems to be permanently open.

This morning, I was distracted as I was walking toward the door–OK, I was checking the list outside of the student theater to see if they’re showing Slumdog Millionaire this semester.  Happy now?  The door had been open for a long time and I had just sort of assumed that it was in perma-open mode.

It wasn’t.

In full stride, I walked right into the edge of the door as it was automatically closing.  Ker-whap! I was so stunned that I forgot to swear.  Bev managed to verify that I still appeared to be in one piece and that there was no blood anywhere.

Fortunately, the ever so helpful man behind us, the one that we see EVERY FLÄRKING MORNING was kind enough to point out that, “You know, they’re automatic.”  I was still stunned enough not to call him a fucktard, as in:”Yes, you fucktard, I know they’re automatic.  I walk through here every morning, which you should know because that I’ve seen you just about every morning since I started parking in that garage in 2004.  I just wasn’t paying attention.”

It’s probably a good thing.  I’m not sure that any of that would have improved the situation at all, or made me look like less of a moron.

So, when I got to my office, I popped four ibuprofen (I know how much you’re supposed to take for physical pain, thanks — don’t start accusing me of freebasing).  I might have had breakfast first, though, because … well … pink, fuzzy clouds.  And Björk suddenly makes so much more sense to me now …

Hopefully your morning has been a little less … clumsy.

All Over for Another Year

Monday, March 9th, 2009

Another Explore UT has come and gone.

I have written extensively, year after year, about not liking this event.  This year, I fear was no different. The basic problem, I realize, is that I now have so much emotional baggage associated with it that there’s probably no way that I could ever actually enjoy the day (not that there’s much enjoyment to be had with 50,000 people invading campus).

Once upon a time, many years ago when I didn’t know better, my colleagues and I were dragged into a meeting with one of the staff people in the College of Liberal Arts.  The Dean at the time (or so we were told) had decided that he wanted to have a special area of the university’s annual open house event just for children.  And this staff person, knowing that we all do “outreach,” decided in her infinite and unquestionable — let me put that in Capitals to give them the appropriate weight — in her Infinite and Unquestionable Wisdom that “outreach” means “knows how to entertain small children.”  And so we were given the Royal Decree: do this, and make your Dean happy.

For the record, “outreach” does not mean “knows how to entertain small children.”  In our cases it means different things, but that’s really not one of them.  So, we had to search for little activities to do that might have some educational value.  Since we didn’t really want to be involved, we didn’t think too hard about it.

The year was something of a success.  So much so that, barely a few months later, we were pulled into another meeting with the same staff person.  “They really like the children’s fair,” she said.  “So, we need you all to stay all day.”
“Um,” we asked, “Can you provide us with the manpower to make that happen?”
“No.”
“How about some money to hire people?”
“No.”

All righty then.

And so we went forth.  We scrounged, threatened, pleaded, and, in some cases, bribed students to come and help us with the event, and thus did we entertain small children all day long.

A few months later, we were pulled into another meeting.  “This year, we need you to add a second event.  They want the fair bigger.”
“Um,” we said, “Can you provide us with some volunteers?  We had trouble getting enough people to staff the activities we did this year.”
“No,” she said.  “We don’t have any volunteers to spare for you.  Also, we want you to arrange performances.”
“Can we give you their names and have you deal with the performers?”
“No,” she said.  “You do it.”

And so … we went out for drinks, bitched a lot, and then went forth and somehow, by the skins of our teeth, managed to pull it off.  Barely.  Natalie nearly had a nervous breakdown in the middle of the day, and I recall a lot of swearing coming out of my mouth (we’ll pretend that this is different from the norm somehow).  I don’t even recall how the others fared because I never saw them during the course of the six hours that we were there.

So, when we were pulled into the meeting a few months later, we went in prepared to say, “We can’t do this much again on our own.  If you’re going to want a bigger children’s fair, you either need to promise us enough volunteers to make it happen, or you need to involve other units.  We’re tapped out.  And you need to hand off the performance coordination to a single person in the College because this ‘everyone coordinates their own’ thing is a bunch of crap.”

However, barely had the conversation begun when Her face darkened, the brow furrowed, and her voice turned gravely and belied the presence of possibly several demons from Hell in her inner soul.  “We … are … not … doing … LESS,” she hissed.

Dejected, we left, vowing some sort of awful revenge.  We had been told of other departments not being invited back.  What, we wondered collectively, would we have to do to not be invited back?

That year was probably the worst.  We didn’t want to be there, we didn’t want to be doing as much as we were, and it was incredibly hot.

The next year, both the Dean and the staff person were gone, and we were able to restructure everything to our wants: a single event for each of us, one co-coordinated table with name writing in different languages, and the College runs the performances. For all the complaining and dread, the past couple of years have gone relatively well.

None of this is to say, however, that I’m any happier about doing it.  For all that it’s gone relatively well, at some point during the annual push to do whatever we can do to increase attendance, just about all of the educational value has been lost. We spend the rest of our year designing high-impact programming that’s raved about.  We’ve gotten a standing ovation at a national conference of our peers.  People high in education around the state like us and what we do.  But what we do the first Saturday in March reflects none of that.

In short, I’m not particularly proud of what we do year after year.  And there seems to be no will to let us change it.

Last year, I finally had the bright idea to print out a little text box for the kids to glue to the back of their craft, explaining what it is and what it’s supposed to represent.  This year, most of the kids actually took the time to glue one on (last year, there was a lot of, “Wow, that looks boring”).  Do I think that, this morning, even half of them even remotely remember what they did or why?  No, not really.

And there’s the rub.

Oh, well.  Another year gone.  I can focus on other things … right up until this time next year, when I get to do it all over again.

 

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