the mellow tigger's musings

The end of the semester and the end of the year always bring up a host of thoughts and reflections. Today, while I proctor my General Biology students' final exam, on a cold, dark December Saturday, I'm remembering that occasion when I was living in Nebraska where I happened to catch Terri Gross interviewing Toni Morrison on "Fresh Air" .

I did eventually read God Help the Child, when dealing with a summer case of COVID that kept me locked up in the back bedroom. And as before, time spent reading Morrison's stories was worthwhile.

I'd love to ask Toni Morrison that question. She was not one to shy away from difficult subjects, but in a lot of ways she didn't have a choice, either. And she still stands out to me as someone who figured out that a powerful voice can have persistent impact over the full span of one's life.

I should listen to that interview again. I have conflicting feelings about what teaching entails. I don't always get to know the full impact of my actions on students. And there are many aspects of teaching that are tedious and unrewarding, that require time and mental energy that could be allocated elsewhere. (but let's just ask, would I really be satisfied by something like bus driving, which is a job that is demanding in completely different ways?)

I was talking with some rowing teammates the other day about the bicycling class I teach every spring, about how it can be an amazing experience for many of the students just to learn how to change a bike tire.

I didn't really know how to change a bike tire, when I was in college. I knew enough to understand that bike tires needed to be kept full of air. I had one particularly embarrassing occasion when I attempted to change out a tube by myself, but then lacked a pump, so I wound up at a bike shop in Somerville, MA where one of the mechanics was less than pleased when the (incorrectly) newly installed tube exploded. That mechanic was ultimately exceptionally generous about helping me get back on the road. But really, how was I supposed to know?

A precursor to that episode was that at some point in high school, my brother was given an opportunity to take a basic bike repair class through REI. I was never given the same opportunity, and I really don't know the reason(s) why not. Perhaps I did not seem to be as much of an aspiring bicyclist as my older brother. Perhaps my parents asked and I declined. Some of the backwardness of how I learned to fix bikes is a part of why I try to teach bike repair skills now.

I don't really want to be riding my bike everywhere from some position about the injustice of it all. So I'm not sure I can motivate myself to consider going back to France again just from the standpoint of being present on the behalf of the global status of women. But I'm still not sure how else I might think about the undertaking, if I were to go and attempt it again. There's a lot about randonneuring that can be very selfish, so if I keep doing it I want to be conscientious about it all.