Do we know too much?

I was just reading an article from the Globe and Mail website. It offers a litany of concerns about the modern young underachievers. While they clearly represent a minority the authors seem inordinately concerned about this small but slowly growing segment of our population.

It goes like this. Only child or small family. Successful well educated middle class parents. Above average intelligence. Pot smoking, high school/ college dropout or college graduate slacker who has lots of ambition but lacks the drive or motivation to actually try something, likes to travel and lives at home with parents. Now apparently this is a new phenomenon in relation to their parent's generation who were hard working, driven and successful.

Now is this a brand new era in western society that we must be very concerned about? Maybe. But I think a little reflection might give us pause. First, there has been slackers in our society ever since families had disposable income. Sure they might not have been very common but the Remittance Man of the 19th century was the iconic model of the slacker. Typically a younger son who would not inherit the family business or did not want to, they got themselves into scandals and were shipped off to the colonies where they were supported on the condition that they stay there, out of sight and out of mind.

No one really bothered to study them as some aberrant form of behaviour or as the topic of research that could support a lifetime of book publication, lecture and talk show appearances or newspaper columns. But in a world hungry for information, any information and in a society kept anxious and unsettled by the media [tension and worry sells papers] teenage angst is hot stuff.

Maybe, we all need to chill out a little. Yes, I know it is difficult for parents whose kids still mooch off them but hey, they could just give them the old heave ho. And if the kid is not paying rent well whose fault is that. Anyone offers me free rent - I'm there. A little backbone in some parents would go a long way but I didn't that advice anywhere. I mean why kill the golden goose?

Tell me what you want, what you really really want...

Sometimes we get insights not from a single incident or accident or hint or allegation but from a string of bits and pieces. Simple fragments that bump into each other inside our heads in strange and wonderful ways and in an almost magical way open a window into a perspective that we did not have.

We don't always recognize how it happened but today was different. In fact the past two days were different because the fragments emerged over an extended period. If you have been reading this blog you are aware that I am working through some serious shit these days - to say the least.

One of my big choices that I do not want to make now but must position myself for is what I do once I finish my Master's at MUN. Plan A was doing my PhD at the University of Calgary along with Fiona. Plan A took a bit of a beating and appeared dead. Plan B was to apply to Concordia and MUN until I found that MUN does not have the right program for me. Plan C seemed to be pointing to the sole choice of Concordia or Plan X (as in exit) was to have me leave the country and go teach somewhere. Plan X is still undisturbed and awaiting activation if required.

Then one of those random fragments popped up in a comment from a classmate who asked me why I was giving up on Calgary when it was such an excellent match for my academic needs. While I did not totally commit to his suggestion I did keep the process alive by starting an application to U of C and requesting references. Still I have until February 1 to apply and I won't have money for the application fee until next week. So need to make the decision to even leave myself open for a future decision. {Are you following me so far?}

Today I attended the Orientation for the Graduate Program in Teaching, a 12 week course that I have been really looking forward to. In that class I was reminded just how much I want to teach. Fragment number 2 began to float about inside my brain.

Today I went for a counselling session at the Wellness Centre. The psychologist was quite good and asked few questions and very little advice. The two most important things she said were "You seemed to have a very clear image of teaching in Calgary, at the university and at Mount Royal" and "Don't make any big decisions anytime soon." Fragment 3 and fragment 4.

I had already told myself to keep my options open but I just had not been ready to even keep Calgary as an option. Today I recognized that I am ready to do that, not to go back to Calgary [that will take a lot longer even to simply visit] but to simply consider the idea.

So to mix a few metaphors, I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel but I am starting to see the forest despite all the damn trees!

Fewer choices...

Well my world has been simplified by the apparent absence of a program at MUN that is suitable to my need for a PhD. I had been under the impression that there would be an interdisciplinary doctoral program offered here this fall but it seems that is not going to happen.

That leaves me with only Concordia in Montreal since there are a limited number of places that have faculty or research areas that meet my needs. While the University of Calgary would be an excellent match applying there remains problematic given recent events. Still a classmate suggested that I apply given that there is a long time ahead of me before I would actually have to decide.

That does give me something to think about. Meanwhile I will have to try to focus on completing the degree I am now working on. Life does not seem to be getting any less complicated or interesting.

The entertaining Newfoundlander...

There is an expression that relates to the long history of Newfoundlanders and Labradorians who have fought in so many of the wars over the last several hundred years, the Fighting Newfoundlander. There is even (I believe) a statue of a soldier in Bowring park with this same title. I was strongly reminded of this by an email from my sister Mollie. She sent everyone in the family a copy of a post by Rick Mercer in which he describes his recent visit to Canadian troops in Afghanistan.

It must be noted that not only do people from my province make up a disproportionate part of our military, the top general Rick Hillier is form here as well. Mercer's story described how Hillier regularly dragoons entertainers from Newfoundland and Labrador to go over and visit the troops, this time on the front lines during Christmas.

Now as Mercer makes it clear, the troops are the ones who put their lives on the line everyday but it is also clear the he and people like Mary Walsh are also risking a great deal to help the troops to remember that people back home care about them and that they are not forgotten. So now along with the Fighting Newfoundlander we have the Entertaining Newfoundlander.

What is so important for all of us in this is that we are reminded that no matter what our opinion is of the war in Afghanistan, there are thousands of young Canadians who are risking their lives because that is what they do. Whether they are on foreign soil or back here in Canada, these young men and women have volunteered to risk death and injury in order to protect Canadians. We may not agree with the mission, we may be troubled by how Canada seems to be headed in the wrong direction militarily and politically but we must always remember that their are those who put themselves in harm's way for no other reason than that they are trying to protect us.

Searching for identity...

I have been here at grad school for over a year now and in that time I have had my life turned upside down; not just by recent events but by the journey that I have been on since I left Calgary in August of 2005. I set out to earn a Master's degree and to perhaps write about the oral traditions of my family. But what I was really setting out to do was to try and reinvent myself once again.

Back then my main plan was to get a graduate degree so I could teach sessionally and work on a doctorate back in Calgary. But I have been forced to abandon that plan or at least the Calgary part. In doing that I am forced to really take a closer look at just who I am and where it is I want to take my life.

This has become a search for identity, one that does not involve the active participation of another person beyond the role of adviser and/or facilitator. Obviously some of my choices will depend on the support and approval of others. Getting funding is the first big step along with being accepted into a doctoral program of my choosing and then deciding if I want to actually do that.

Just where I will live and where I will study are still open for discussion and decisions all of which depend on other people accepting my ideas and opening the necessary doors for me. Joseph Campbell argued that if you were "following your bliss" then things would happen to support you. Over the next six months I will find out if I am where I belong and doing what I am supposed to do right now. I will discover my new identity as it evolves. Not all of the choices will be mine. They never are. But I cannot stand still, cannot stop living, cannot stop thinking, cannot stop struggling to understand, to make sense of one of the most difficult and challenging times in my life.

For now I have to focus on the details of my work. I have ideas to study, research to conduct and papers to write. I need to get organized to shoot my documentary, which includes getting some funding to cover my expenses. As for my bruised and battered heart, I believe I must put it into suspended animation as it were. I simply cannot risk being hurt again.

Back to school...

Well here we go again! This is my last semester of classes for my Masters. I have two courses plus I am also doing a Graduate program in Teaching. It will be really good to have some structure and a routine to follow to help me plough through the next few months.

By the end of April I need to be totally organized and into my documentary film. That will consume the remainder of my work on my Masters and by then I should also be able to decide what else is happening in my life.

I'm trying hard to not put too much emphasis on the future. I want to be able to live my life in full, even the painful parts that build character. Is there any legal limit on character I wonder? I mean just how much character do I need anyway? I just wish someone could answer that one. At least if I could spin a best seller out of it all, or a stage play or even some poetry. But All I got is bellyaches and I am getting tired of them.

How am I to enjoy this only life I will ever have if I don't get my ass in gear and move on down the road? So this is me grabbing myself up by the scruff of the neck and the seat of the pants and giving myself the heave ho out of the old Heartbreak Hotel. Now all I go to do is to pick myself up, dust myself off and get on with the rest of my life.

Think I'll sleep on it. It's hard work giving yourself a kick in the butt.

She started it...

In a recent posting on her blog my niece Susan noted that she and I are both going through breakups. I have also been reflecting on that and not just because she is my niece. It is also the weird congruenties that I find between our two situations such as the fact that Susan and Fiona turned 40 last year, Susan in August and Fiona in September. Damn midlife crises!

I would not wish this on anyone, no less my niece who I love dearly. At the same time if I must go through this I am so glad I have someone I can really share with not just dump on. Being able to connect with Susan has helped in my healing in part because I can give some healing back. My ability to heal is directly tied to my own healing so to do one I must embrace the other.

Thank you Susan.