It was never my intention to take so much time off between posts. For the first time in what feels like months (but it's just been 1, at the most), I have some breathing space, and it actually feels like breathing space.
I only have one class tomorrow, and I am ready for it. Then it's the weekend. I'm glad to catch my breath right now, because starting this weekend, I've got to hold it for as long as I can, taking the plunge back into the ocean for weekly midterms, papers, and unending outlining.
Even now, I feel like there's a little voice telling me that I should be doing homework.
That's the thing with law school. There's always something to do, much more than in Undergrad.
Until summer, there's always going to be something I can do. For a structure wherein the only important grade comes from a final exam at the end of the semester, everything that must be done beforehand sure piles up...
Today couldn't have come at a better time. It was a long, arduous, and full month. But it's just a space to breath- not a true break at all. I've got to remember that, and strap back in tomorrow morning, all the way through to spring break. Just two weeks left...but a midterm the day we return. Spring break won't be so much a break, as a slight pause.
It's a roller coaster.
But it's a good ride, so far.
We're talking about the death penalty in criminal law tomorrow morning. Most of the time, that class is full of people's opinions as it is. I look forward to whatever class becomes tomorrow, as we're all ready for the weekend.
Personally, I've been against the death penalty for longer than I've even identified with progressive politics. I was against the death penalty when I was still "conservative." It's one of the benchmarks that eventually led to law school (perhaps the earliest). I'll try not to argue tomorrow...
-Zack
"Into the face of every criminal strapped into a chair, we must stare, we must stare, we must stare"
-Bright Eyes
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
Week 3: Every New Day
In my life, I've had three interviews that did not render me the job for which I interviewed- the first at Burger King, the summer before my first year at Wooster. I think I didn't get the job because I wore shorts to the interview (in my defense, it was a hot summer day, and they were nice shorts). Realistically, it was probably also because I was leaving for school a couple of months later. Similarly, the following summer, before landing a horrific job at Wal*Mart, I interviewed at Arbys and was summarily turned down because "college is great and all, it's good to go after what you think your dreams are, but we're looking for people who won't be going away." I didn't hold it against them. It was still my favorite fast food joint in Ottawa for the remainder of my time in Ottawa (which, after that summer, was spotty at best, to say the least). A few years later, I interviewed at Meijer in Lima, while fundraising. They turned me down because my chance of someday leaving in the future just wasn't worth the risk. Their loss. Ironically, I ended up working a very much seasonal position at the Meijer in Findlay later that year and, were that not the case, may not have ever met Alexandra.
Oh how the cogs, they turn.
Otherwise, I've received a job offer from every single interview I've ever had. My most recent alighting upon me this afternoon.
Last December (the 21st), I frantically went from department store to department store to find a suit, because I had an interview at, quite literally, the best possible clerkship in Cleveland, at least as I see things.
Sherwin Williams, the world's leading paint manufacturer and retailer, and one of Cleveland's flagship corporations was hiring a litigation clerk in their corporate offices. It's a well-paid position that extends through next school year- paid law-related positions for people just out of their first year are white buffalo. Few exist, so the competition is stiff and the deadlines harsh.
But Wooster came through again for me. Sherwin Williams liked my IT background (and didn't care about my I.S.; sorry, Grant), and got me in for an interview before the deadline for applications even passed.
One of my "to do before school starts" items was purchasing the aforementioned professional suit, for the spring interview season. If you've never bought a man's professional suit, give yourself some time- they have to hem the pants (at least) before its even wearable.
To make matters worse, I only have brown dress shoes (Size 16-17 doesn't afford many options, and I like brown, so that's what I have). On a night's notice, getting new shoes was literally impossible.
If you're following, I was out, wherever I could be that might sell professional clothing, looking for a suit that went with my oddball shoes, less than 24 hours before an interview for my dream 1L summer position.
I went to Dillards- far too expensive generally, and definitely not readily selling suits off-the-rack ready to wear.
But, by an act of God, they had a suit that fit in every single way, save for the unhemmed pants. I hope whomever helped me (she had her own law school dreams early in life apparently, though her name now escapes) got paid commission- because she was resourceful and helpful. One of her coworker's mothers just so happens to run an alteration shop. The shop was closed, but she got him to pull some strings with his mom, gave me the address, and sent me on the way. My interview was at 10:30. At 9:00 a.m., I was waiting outside of their shop for the door to open, so I could retrieve my suit, hurry downtown (park too, at Tower City no less, then walk), and do the interview.
But I made it. It was the most laid-back interview I've ever had.
But I guess it worked.
Save for those three times, I'm still running a pretty good average on the interview/job offer ratio.
So I don't have to worry about getting a job this summer anymore- I've got one. Most of my classmates (or all, as far as I know) haven't interviewed anywhere yet. Indeed, few have applied.
But that stressful part is over.
It feels like I've reached the top of the mountain today. Of course I haven't. This is just the beginning of my legal career (all of the orientation "your legal career starts now" speeches, that started as soon as winter visit day last year, before some of us had ever taken the LSAT notwithstanding)- but it is a good beginning. Indeed, it's as good a beginning as I'd ever wish.
This summer and next school year, I'll be in the same building where the "We are all Witnesses" poster once hung (and was consequently fire-bombed by drunk Cavs fans in June 2010). Even now, when I step back and think about it, I can't help but laugh- the ghost of LeBron haunts me still, in some menial, neutered way.
It's a major step on the path, to be sure. And as I think about it (LeBron included), it's obvious that a light's been leading me along the whole way. I could take the side most law students, personality-wise would, and claim credit for the early and great job-search success. But how dishonest would that be? Were I not rejected by the Meijer in Lima in 2009, and accepted by the one in Findlay, I'd never have met Alexandra, I wouldn't be in law school, and I wouldn't have a remarkable summer job to celebrate right now. The fact is I'm not in control of my life anymore than I'm allowed to be, by our Father in heaven- and though hindsight is so characteristically 20/20, I can't help but realize He's been behind it all- the ups and the downs, all the way through, to today, this summer, and beyond. I could take the evangelistic tactic here and say it's because I've had "such great faith" that He's intervened for me. But I won't do that either- I've had the measure of faith He's allowed me, and trust me, I've screwed the pooch on that one countless times. But he's deigned to bless me in so many ways, so many times, even when I don't count it as such. This is just one more of those. I will, however, be the stereotypical liberal activist with it, and quote spiderman- with great power comes great responsibility- and I've got to do my part now, from this/these blessings I've been given, and do something for God, His Kingdom, and the city of Cleveland.
-Zack
"I can, with one eye squinted, take it all as a blessing"
-Flannery O'Connor
Oh how the cogs, they turn.
Otherwise, I've received a job offer from every single interview I've ever had. My most recent alighting upon me this afternoon.
Last December (the 21st), I frantically went from department store to department store to find a suit, because I had an interview at, quite literally, the best possible clerkship in Cleveland, at least as I see things.
Sherwin Williams, the world's leading paint manufacturer and retailer, and one of Cleveland's flagship corporations was hiring a litigation clerk in their corporate offices. It's a well-paid position that extends through next school year- paid law-related positions for people just out of their first year are white buffalo. Few exist, so the competition is stiff and the deadlines harsh.
But Wooster came through again for me. Sherwin Williams liked my IT background (and didn't care about my I.S.; sorry, Grant), and got me in for an interview before the deadline for applications even passed.
One of my "to do before school starts" items was purchasing the aforementioned professional suit, for the spring interview season. If you've never bought a man's professional suit, give yourself some time- they have to hem the pants (at least) before its even wearable.
To make matters worse, I only have brown dress shoes (Size 16-17 doesn't afford many options, and I like brown, so that's what I have). On a night's notice, getting new shoes was literally impossible.
If you're following, I was out, wherever I could be that might sell professional clothing, looking for a suit that went with my oddball shoes, less than 24 hours before an interview for my dream 1L summer position.
I went to Dillards- far too expensive generally, and definitely not readily selling suits off-the-rack ready to wear.
But, by an act of God, they had a suit that fit in every single way, save for the unhemmed pants. I hope whomever helped me (she had her own law school dreams early in life apparently, though her name now escapes) got paid commission- because she was resourceful and helpful. One of her coworker's mothers just so happens to run an alteration shop. The shop was closed, but she got him to pull some strings with his mom, gave me the address, and sent me on the way. My interview was at 10:30. At 9:00 a.m., I was waiting outside of their shop for the door to open, so I could retrieve my suit, hurry downtown (park too, at Tower City no less, then walk), and do the interview.
But I made it. It was the most laid-back interview I've ever had.
But I guess it worked.
Save for those three times, I'm still running a pretty good average on the interview/job offer ratio.
So I don't have to worry about getting a job this summer anymore- I've got one. Most of my classmates (or all, as far as I know) haven't interviewed anywhere yet. Indeed, few have applied.
But that stressful part is over.
It feels like I've reached the top of the mountain today. Of course I haven't. This is just the beginning of my legal career (all of the orientation "your legal career starts now" speeches, that started as soon as winter visit day last year, before some of us had ever taken the LSAT notwithstanding)- but it is a good beginning. Indeed, it's as good a beginning as I'd ever wish.
This summer and next school year, I'll be in the same building where the "We are all Witnesses" poster once hung (and was consequently fire-bombed by drunk Cavs fans in June 2010). Even now, when I step back and think about it, I can't help but laugh- the ghost of LeBron haunts me still, in some menial, neutered way.
It's a major step on the path, to be sure. And as I think about it (LeBron included), it's obvious that a light's been leading me along the whole way. I could take the side most law students, personality-wise would, and claim credit for the early and great job-search success. But how dishonest would that be? Were I not rejected by the Meijer in Lima in 2009, and accepted by the one in Findlay, I'd never have met Alexandra, I wouldn't be in law school, and I wouldn't have a remarkable summer job to celebrate right now. The fact is I'm not in control of my life anymore than I'm allowed to be, by our Father in heaven- and though hindsight is so characteristically 20/20, I can't help but realize He's been behind it all- the ups and the downs, all the way through, to today, this summer, and beyond. I could take the evangelistic tactic here and say it's because I've had "such great faith" that He's intervened for me. But I won't do that either- I've had the measure of faith He's allowed me, and trust me, I've screwed the pooch on that one countless times. But he's deigned to bless me in so many ways, so many times, even when I don't count it as such. This is just one more of those. I will, however, be the stereotypical liberal activist with it, and quote spiderman- with great power comes great responsibility- and I've got to do my part now, from this/these blessings I've been given, and do something for God, His Kingdom, and the city of Cleveland.
-Zack
"I can, with one eye squinted, take it all as a blessing"
-Flannery O'Connor
Friday, January 18, 2013
Week 2: With the Tide
Yesterday morning, our civil procedure professor told us about a class, a few years back, with a horrifying reputation that persists to this day. Their 1L year, when they were still divided into sections, the competition boiled over. People were hiding library books, lying to each other, and doing anything necessary to get an edge on the ever important curve. Apparently, to this day, she denies writing letters of recommendation for members of this particular class.
They tell us, at every juncture: your classmates will be your colleagues for your entire career.
They tell us all sorts of things at every juncture: Lawyers become alcoholics, network, get experience your first semester, don't worry about grades but grades determine the rest of your life, legal writing is important (though it's worth the least amount of credits), etc, etc, etc, all down the line.
This week though, I've internalized that first one. My classmates will be my colleagues during my legal career in Cleveland.
Most of the sage wisdom imparted by the administration has something of an ominous tone, and that particular piece is no exception. But the tone of delivery does the fact a disservice. Knowing that I'll be working in a community made up of people I'm in class with right now, for the most part, is one of the best pieces of news I've heard about the legal world.
I like the people I'm in class with right now. They are good, brilliant, wonderful people who, even when class gets long and the workload unbearable (though we always find a way to bear it), make every day a little brighter and easier to get through. It's like we're all fighting together, like it's us against the complex material. Thankfully, we are winning.
Law school is a competitive environment, just like the job market and the adversarial judicial system. But that does not mean we have to be enemies. I think a few people might be obsessed with that idea. Maybe, at some point, I was too.
But I'm past it. We're all in this together. I'll keep trying my best, with regards to grades now, job interviews, and work later. But my classmates now and future colleagues, even those who get on my nerves from time to time, well, they're in this with me too.
Last semester, I don't think I quite got it. I know upperclassmen who still haven't.
But we've been thrust into a fire and as I see us, as a group, growing and learning together in apparent ways. At least our section is a community and I think, for the most part, we actually care about each other like a community should.
I'd imagine there will be a cutthroat side to everything, when business starts getting in the way in a few years. That's to be expected. But when it happens, it will be the communal experiences we're sharing now that inform how we treat each other then.
I can't speak for the law school experience others might have, but, at least for me, and at least for nearly everyone in our section, it seems to be that we're interested in solving problems, not creating them.
Though we're only two weeks in on this new semester, next year, we won't have a section. Everything will get closer and closer to the "real world."
And that's why it's so important now, while we're all just 1L's, learning what it means to "learn law and live Justice," that we learn how to share this life, to some off the wall degree.
The situation always turns a bit neurotic, when you throw a bunch of law students together. But at least, I hope, in ten years, professors are telling stories about the section who felt more like a family than a team of rivals.
-Zack
"The mood it changes like the wind, hard to control where it begins"
-The Naked and Famous
They tell us, at every juncture: your classmates will be your colleagues for your entire career.
They tell us all sorts of things at every juncture: Lawyers become alcoholics, network, get experience your first semester, don't worry about grades but grades determine the rest of your life, legal writing is important (though it's worth the least amount of credits), etc, etc, etc, all down the line.
This week though, I've internalized that first one. My classmates will be my colleagues during my legal career in Cleveland.
Most of the sage wisdom imparted by the administration has something of an ominous tone, and that particular piece is no exception. But the tone of delivery does the fact a disservice. Knowing that I'll be working in a community made up of people I'm in class with right now, for the most part, is one of the best pieces of news I've heard about the legal world.
I like the people I'm in class with right now. They are good, brilliant, wonderful people who, even when class gets long and the workload unbearable (though we always find a way to bear it), make every day a little brighter and easier to get through. It's like we're all fighting together, like it's us against the complex material. Thankfully, we are winning.
Law school is a competitive environment, just like the job market and the adversarial judicial system. But that does not mean we have to be enemies. I think a few people might be obsessed with that idea. Maybe, at some point, I was too.
But I'm past it. We're all in this together. I'll keep trying my best, with regards to grades now, job interviews, and work later. But my classmates now and future colleagues, even those who get on my nerves from time to time, well, they're in this with me too.
Last semester, I don't think I quite got it. I know upperclassmen who still haven't.
But we've been thrust into a fire and as I see us, as a group, growing and learning together in apparent ways. At least our section is a community and I think, for the most part, we actually care about each other like a community should.
I'd imagine there will be a cutthroat side to everything, when business starts getting in the way in a few years. That's to be expected. But when it happens, it will be the communal experiences we're sharing now that inform how we treat each other then.
I can't speak for the law school experience others might have, but, at least for me, and at least for nearly everyone in our section, it seems to be that we're interested in solving problems, not creating them.
Though we're only two weeks in on this new semester, next year, we won't have a section. Everything will get closer and closer to the "real world."
And that's why it's so important now, while we're all just 1L's, learning what it means to "learn law and live Justice," that we learn how to share this life, to some off the wall degree.
The situation always turns a bit neurotic, when you throw a bunch of law students together. But at least, I hope, in ten years, professors are telling stories about the section who felt more like a family than a team of rivals.
-Zack
"The mood it changes like the wind, hard to control where it begins"
-The Naked and Famous
Friday, January 11, 2013
Week 1: A Whole New World
The first week of Law School's second semester is in the books.
Some things are the same: Legal Writing, section 2, same egos, same law school.
But some things are very different: Upper classmen. In our classes. It feels like they're moving in on our turf. It also feels like they're going to get all of the A's and leave the 1L's to fight for the B's on down on the curve.
Section 2, split in two, for Criminal law.
Up to this point, we'd had class together. Every class. Every day (save for the smaller grouped Legal Writing). But our section drew the short stick. We've been lopped in two and applied to the other two sections for Criminal Law.
Criminal law is a great class so far- but 60 people is a bigger class than I've ever been in, anywhere.
I'm biased, but it does seem that our section is excelling, at least in our criminal law class.
Jobs jobs jobs!
We can finally apply and interview for summer interships, externships, and associate positions. It's a wonderful opportunity.-- a wonderful opportunity that feels far too easy to sweep aside while the other homework piles on.
All of my professors are women this semester. I've had that happen at Wooster- the English department is mostly women (by maybe one or two, or at least it was), but in law school, where there are 3-4 men for every woman in the student body, it's a refreshing change.
But they are stricter. You can be absent for not being prepared. All of our midterms are graded.
On the other hand, we watched a movie for the first two classes in Property- Amistad. It was a better use of my time than I'd have come up with for myself, had I not been in class. If you never have, you should watch Amistad.
Grades have been handed out too. The world is starting to stratify based on performance. I did alright- not all As, but close enough that I'm able to apply to any job.
I forget a lot though, and I shouldn't, that the majority of the educated world (so, not even taking into account those who don't live where education is possible), the people who have any college degree, though growing, is small. Those with bachelors degrees smaller. And those who, from that number, who can get into law school is smaller still. Taking the curve into account, performing well in class is an accomplishment- passing a class at all is nothing at which to sneer.
But Law School is a lot of work. It is a lot of worthwhile work, indeed. But it is work. Some things never change.
-Zack
"You know where to find me, when you're on your way out"
-Imogen Heap
Some things are the same: Legal Writing, section 2, same egos, same law school.
But some things are very different: Upper classmen. In our classes. It feels like they're moving in on our turf. It also feels like they're going to get all of the A's and leave the 1L's to fight for the B's on down on the curve.
Section 2, split in two, for Criminal law.
Up to this point, we'd had class together. Every class. Every day (save for the smaller grouped Legal Writing). But our section drew the short stick. We've been lopped in two and applied to the other two sections for Criminal Law.
Criminal law is a great class so far- but 60 people is a bigger class than I've ever been in, anywhere.
I'm biased, but it does seem that our section is excelling, at least in our criminal law class.
Jobs jobs jobs!
We can finally apply and interview for summer interships, externships, and associate positions. It's a wonderful opportunity.-- a wonderful opportunity that feels far too easy to sweep aside while the other homework piles on.
All of my professors are women this semester. I've had that happen at Wooster- the English department is mostly women (by maybe one or two, or at least it was), but in law school, where there are 3-4 men for every woman in the student body, it's a refreshing change.
But they are stricter. You can be absent for not being prepared. All of our midterms are graded.
On the other hand, we watched a movie for the first two classes in Property- Amistad. It was a better use of my time than I'd have come up with for myself, had I not been in class. If you never have, you should watch Amistad.
Grades have been handed out too. The world is starting to stratify based on performance. I did alright- not all As, but close enough that I'm able to apply to any job.
I forget a lot though, and I shouldn't, that the majority of the educated world (so, not even taking into account those who don't live where education is possible), the people who have any college degree, though growing, is small. Those with bachelors degrees smaller. And those who, from that number, who can get into law school is smaller still. Taking the curve into account, performing well in class is an accomplishment- passing a class at all is nothing at which to sneer.
But Law School is a lot of work. It is a lot of worthwhile work, indeed. But it is work. Some things never change.
-Zack
"You know where to find me, when you're on your way out"
-Imogen Heap
Thursday, January 3, 2013
2012 was a Year
In some ways, it feels like I was just writing about the end of 2011 a few weeks ago. So much happened in 2012 that that's obviously impossible, but it was easily the fastest year in recent memory. I don't exactly know how to quantify the quickness of a year. I just know I've never felt like a year didn't really pass, when one actually did, until I met January 1st, 2013.
So much did happen.
I now know what it's like to be married for a whole year. It's hard, but wonderful. Everything everyone says is actually mostly true. Besides all of the stuff about hating it you here in pop-culture from time to time. I couldn't love being married more. The secret to that is simple: I couldn't love my wife anymore than I do, but then, somehow, each day, I wake up, and realize that I do, much more than the day before.
I learned that much of my 2011 strife over my employment with InteVarsity and pull toward law school was part of a master plan which gave me an immediate landing spot, once InterVarsity diverged from the ranks of an organization for which I can ideologically work.
We've now officially lived in Cleveland for 1 year. It's everything I thought it would be and more. I love living in Cleveland and, unless I somehow manage to retire to Savannah Georgia, I can't imagine calling anywhere else home.
As different as it is from Cleveland, I happened to fall in love with Savannah this year too, when we visited it in August. Perhaps it was the adventure, driving across five states and all that, then ending up in a historic, semi-tropical-paradise city without a care in the world for a week, but, like Cleveland, Savannah has its interesting, historic, alluring dark spots. There's nothing like it in the world. Supposedly, its the most haunted city in the country- and why wouldn't it be? Historically, it was the end of the civil war, a pirate port, and an antebellum wonderland. In some ways, it was built on evil- but in others, it is something of a pure pearl, untouched by too much jarring modernity.
And of course, I started law school this year. It was like the heavens opened up and showed me a path I'd been searching for, for so long. I can't wait to see where it leads, but for now, I'm overjoyed at being on it. Still waiting for first semester grades, and that makes me a little nervous, but no matter what they are, as long as I don't fail out, I'll still be happy to be there and be engaging with the body of law.
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For those of you who have been reading this for any number of years, you may know what's coming next. Each year, I go through the rolls of my memory and determine my favorite things from the past year in each of several categories- movies, music, etc.
2012 was a good year on that front, but law school made it quite a bit thinner than in years past. I did not crack 40 books or 55 movies for the first time in 3 years (at least- I haven't been keeping track for longer). The mere fact that I'm okay with that fact means I think law school is worth it, but that's another story for another day. For now, I'll address the categories as I have been, for at least six years, spanning www.xanga.com/dulacian and this blog. Past entries can be found, somewhere around the beginning of the year, by searching either place. Last year's is just 13 back of this one. It was a thin year in blogging. It might go without saying, but this list is compiled from things I first read, watched, or listened to in 2011- much of it is much older.
Without further adieu, I give you the best of my year, in terms of entertainment and ephemera:
Literature:
Book of the year: This is always the hardest choice for me to make, though at least I have less to choose from this year. I only made it to a paltry 34 books in 2012, after posting 52 in 2011. I have a good excuse, but I still wish I could have made more progress. Even so, I greatly enjoyed what I did read. In many ways, it was the year of Proust and Stephen King. In total, that only means 4 books- but more than 2500 pages therein. Proust is the greatest technical writer whoever lived, for my money. He took a fairly normal life and made it into a wonderful dance through revelry, ribaldry, grace, and candor. His sentences are powerful yet elegant, graceful yet frank. King, on the other hand, is a great story teller and a good enough writer. He gets the job done, and that job captures imaginations better than most American writers can dream to do. But it's actually none of them that take the proverbial cake this year. It's actually a children's book. The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman, to which I give my honor this year. It's also the first book I finished in 2012. Pullman tugs at the heart, writes for children like they are growing into adulthood instead of as children, and tells a story few could read and ever forget. It's quite possibly the best children's book ever written, and most certainly the best I've ever read. It's more perfect than the rest, and that's why it wins 2012 for me.
Runner Up: Guermantes Way, Marcel Proust
Author of the year: Marcel Proust. See above for why. Words in his hands are more powerful than 1000 armies.
Runner Up: Stephen King
(You may notice that that's just an inversion of last year's winners. I'm pretty sure that's the first time that's happened to me. It's a testament to how law school prevents me from branching out in my reading adventures)
Motion Pictures
Film of the Year: 2012 marked the first time that as many as 1/3 of the films I saw were in theaters. I started going to movies by myself, when I had the time, and it was a good decision. Watching movies is probably my favorite personal past time, and college got me in the habit of doing it alone. I do like going to movies with people too- but I don't let lack of a group hold me back from seeing something I want to see. So, seeing movies is what I did. A lot. Right after I got fired by InterVarsity, I went to see a movie. Almost every free day this winter break, I've seen a movie. I'm glad it's become fun again, and not academic, as it had been, for so long. So that means this decision is a hard one. Two of my favorite directors released movies last year (Moonrise Kingdom and Django Unchained being those) and both were brilliant. Some other favorites included Cloud Atlas and Life of Pi. On top of that, I saw plenty of great films apart from the theater too: The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Roshamon, Intolerance. Life of Pi is probably the best film of last year, for Oscar considerations (though Lincoln will probably win, even though I haven't seen it, I'm calling it). But Moonrise Kingdom was my favorite. And so I'm picking it.
Runner Up: Roshamon
Television show of the year: It probably shouldn't be too surprising that I didn't watch much TV last year. In fact, it's hard to even think of a single show that I just "had to watch-" I'm months behind even on The Office and Parks and Rec. Thankfully, Downton Abbey exists, and though there aren't many episodes and I've never watched it on broadcast, it's literally the only show I wanted to watch more than doing something else, all year. It's a little, sudsy, I believe, according to a mutual friend (and she wasn't wrong), but it's well acted, better shot than the Les Miserables musical-movie atrocity (of course, so was Goatman 2, but that's another post..., to pull an Alton Brown on early Good Eats), and relentlessly compelling. I don't think I should resolve to watch more t.v. anytime soon, but unless something changes, there's a good chance this entry will look similar in 2013's edition of this very post.
Runner Up: Phineas and Ferb
Music
Song of the year: It's next to impossible for me to actually pick a single song to represent my 2012. A lot of great stuff came out, and a lot of stuff that already existed managed to enamor me, in one way or another. However, for some oddly fortuitous lyrics with the way I exited InterVarsity, and because it's an awesome song, I'm actually picking Heartlines, by Florence and the Machine this year: http://youtu.be/WouoSftCIz8 To this day, everytime it happens upon my randomized music while driving or working out, it brings me back to the central narrative that defined my 2012.
Runner Up: Joy to the World, Sufjan Stevens (from Silver and Gold) http://youtu.be/QhTCh7smrR4
Though I don't typically comment on "runner up" winners, I'll make an exception. The reason I picked this, a Christmas song no less, is twofold: when I first heard this song, it was roughly the end of exams for my first semester. The mood, the tone, they just fit. It also made me love Joy to the World, usually one of my least favorite Christmas songs. The tune is a variation on "Impossible Soul," one of the greatest 9 minute songs in history (off of his Age of Adz album, the closing track), and incorporates the most ending refrain from that piece. It (JttW) also closes with a line from the best modern Christmas classic, turning not just to the finality that JttW typically is, closing Christmas Eve services the world over (unless you're of the sort that does the candle lit, hand-holdey silent night. Were I a pastor, I'd either abolish that or let it be the beginning), by turning to the hope and expectation Christmas represents. It's the best arrangement of a Christmas song I've ever heard, if sentimentalism isn't your bag (at least not christmastime sentimentalism), and, in terms of significance and greatness, my second favorite song of 2012
Artist of the Year: It's always difficult to determine the most definitive artist of my past year in music listening. Much like LeBron could always win the MVP because he's the best player in the league, I could always just pick Kanye, because he's the best artist in the game. He even did some great things in 2012 (what GOOD Music Cruel Summer represents in terms of communal artistry is groundbreaking, if mostly ignored commercially). But I don't think it's actually that easy. Certainly, the day I rode to school listening to it for the first time was sufficiently mind-blowing. Likewise, I could just pick Sufjan because he's Sufjan and I will listen to him til the world ends or I'm drawn from it. It's quite honestly a coin flip between those two. I feel unoriginal to say it, but everything else isn't as consistent. Just look at last years. All I'm doing different is disallowing a runner up, when there just isn't one. http://youtu.be/1nCmeSGVpyU
http://youtu.be/Zr5Q5UJ0udw
Album of the Year: Though you might not know it from all of the musing above, my favorite album was actually Mumford and Sons' Babel this year. It's graceful, forceful, powerful, and charming. There's everything about the human experience and more, all right there. http://youtu.be/urYjkkitfvc
Runner-Up: Kanye West Presents Good Music: Cruel Summer
Sports:
Personal Favorite Team of the Year: 2012 was rough for my rooting interests. Ohio State was suspended from bowls, The Packers lost their first playoff game, the Indians, Browns, and Cavs are/were all pretty abysmal. Thankfully, the OG Titan Football team went undefeated and lost a close game to the eventual state champs. That's remarkable for a program that won all of 3 games my freshman year (now, of course, 11 years back....)
Runner Up: The ever disappointing come post-season, Cincinatti Reds.
So that's that. I'm going to do my best to update once a week this semester/year, probably/hopefully on Thursdays. I can't be held to that, if last year was any indication. But we'll see. Thanks for reading.
-Zack
"There's fantasy, there's fallacy, there's tumbling stone, echoes of a city that's long overgrown"
-Florence and the Machine
So much did happen.
I now know what it's like to be married for a whole year. It's hard, but wonderful. Everything everyone says is actually mostly true. Besides all of the stuff about hating it you here in pop-culture from time to time. I couldn't love being married more. The secret to that is simple: I couldn't love my wife anymore than I do, but then, somehow, each day, I wake up, and realize that I do, much more than the day before.
I learned that much of my 2011 strife over my employment with InteVarsity and pull toward law school was part of a master plan which gave me an immediate landing spot, once InterVarsity diverged from the ranks of an organization for which I can ideologically work.
We've now officially lived in Cleveland for 1 year. It's everything I thought it would be and more. I love living in Cleveland and, unless I somehow manage to retire to Savannah Georgia, I can't imagine calling anywhere else home.
As different as it is from Cleveland, I happened to fall in love with Savannah this year too, when we visited it in August. Perhaps it was the adventure, driving across five states and all that, then ending up in a historic, semi-tropical-paradise city without a care in the world for a week, but, like Cleveland, Savannah has its interesting, historic, alluring dark spots. There's nothing like it in the world. Supposedly, its the most haunted city in the country- and why wouldn't it be? Historically, it was the end of the civil war, a pirate port, and an antebellum wonderland. In some ways, it was built on evil- but in others, it is something of a pure pearl, untouched by too much jarring modernity.
And of course, I started law school this year. It was like the heavens opened up and showed me a path I'd been searching for, for so long. I can't wait to see where it leads, but for now, I'm overjoyed at being on it. Still waiting for first semester grades, and that makes me a little nervous, but no matter what they are, as long as I don't fail out, I'll still be happy to be there and be engaging with the body of law.
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For those of you who have been reading this for any number of years, you may know what's coming next. Each year, I go through the rolls of my memory and determine my favorite things from the past year in each of several categories- movies, music, etc.
2012 was a good year on that front, but law school made it quite a bit thinner than in years past. I did not crack 40 books or 55 movies for the first time in 3 years (at least- I haven't been keeping track for longer). The mere fact that I'm okay with that fact means I think law school is worth it, but that's another story for another day. For now, I'll address the categories as I have been, for at least six years, spanning www.xanga.com/dulacian and this blog. Past entries can be found, somewhere around the beginning of the year, by searching either place. Last year's is just 13 back of this one. It was a thin year in blogging. It might go without saying, but this list is compiled from things I first read, watched, or listened to in 2011- much of it is much older.
Without further adieu, I give you the best of my year, in terms of entertainment and ephemera:
Literature:
Book of the year: This is always the hardest choice for me to make, though at least I have less to choose from this year. I only made it to a paltry 34 books in 2012, after posting 52 in 2011. I have a good excuse, but I still wish I could have made more progress. Even so, I greatly enjoyed what I did read. In many ways, it was the year of Proust and Stephen King. In total, that only means 4 books- but more than 2500 pages therein. Proust is the greatest technical writer whoever lived, for my money. He took a fairly normal life and made it into a wonderful dance through revelry, ribaldry, grace, and candor. His sentences are powerful yet elegant, graceful yet frank. King, on the other hand, is a great story teller and a good enough writer. He gets the job done, and that job captures imaginations better than most American writers can dream to do. But it's actually none of them that take the proverbial cake this year. It's actually a children's book. The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman, to which I give my honor this year. It's also the first book I finished in 2012. Pullman tugs at the heart, writes for children like they are growing into adulthood instead of as children, and tells a story few could read and ever forget. It's quite possibly the best children's book ever written, and most certainly the best I've ever read. It's more perfect than the rest, and that's why it wins 2012 for me.
Runner Up: Guermantes Way, Marcel Proust
Author of the year: Marcel Proust. See above for why. Words in his hands are more powerful than 1000 armies.
Runner Up: Stephen King
(You may notice that that's just an inversion of last year's winners. I'm pretty sure that's the first time that's happened to me. It's a testament to how law school prevents me from branching out in my reading adventures)
Motion Pictures
Film of the Year: 2012 marked the first time that as many as 1/3 of the films I saw were in theaters. I started going to movies by myself, when I had the time, and it was a good decision. Watching movies is probably my favorite personal past time, and college got me in the habit of doing it alone. I do like going to movies with people too- but I don't let lack of a group hold me back from seeing something I want to see. So, seeing movies is what I did. A lot. Right after I got fired by InterVarsity, I went to see a movie. Almost every free day this winter break, I've seen a movie. I'm glad it's become fun again, and not academic, as it had been, for so long. So that means this decision is a hard one. Two of my favorite directors released movies last year (Moonrise Kingdom and Django Unchained being those) and both were brilliant. Some other favorites included Cloud Atlas and Life of Pi. On top of that, I saw plenty of great films apart from the theater too: The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Roshamon, Intolerance. Life of Pi is probably the best film of last year, for Oscar considerations (though Lincoln will probably win, even though I haven't seen it, I'm calling it). But Moonrise Kingdom was my favorite. And so I'm picking it.
Runner Up: Roshamon
Television show of the year: It probably shouldn't be too surprising that I didn't watch much TV last year. In fact, it's hard to even think of a single show that I just "had to watch-" I'm months behind even on The Office and Parks and Rec. Thankfully, Downton Abbey exists, and though there aren't many episodes and I've never watched it on broadcast, it's literally the only show I wanted to watch more than doing something else, all year. It's a little, sudsy, I believe, according to a mutual friend (and she wasn't wrong), but it's well acted, better shot than the Les Miserables musical-movie atrocity (of course, so was Goatman 2, but that's another post..., to pull an Alton Brown on early Good Eats), and relentlessly compelling. I don't think I should resolve to watch more t.v. anytime soon, but unless something changes, there's a good chance this entry will look similar in 2013's edition of this very post.
Runner Up: Phineas and Ferb
Music
Song of the year: It's next to impossible for me to actually pick a single song to represent my 2012. A lot of great stuff came out, and a lot of stuff that already existed managed to enamor me, in one way or another. However, for some oddly fortuitous lyrics with the way I exited InterVarsity, and because it's an awesome song, I'm actually picking Heartlines, by Florence and the Machine this year: http://youtu.be/WouoSftCIz8 To this day, everytime it happens upon my randomized music while driving or working out, it brings me back to the central narrative that defined my 2012.
Runner Up: Joy to the World, Sufjan Stevens (from Silver and Gold) http://youtu.be/QhTCh7smrR4
Though I don't typically comment on "runner up" winners, I'll make an exception. The reason I picked this, a Christmas song no less, is twofold: when I first heard this song, it was roughly the end of exams for my first semester. The mood, the tone, they just fit. It also made me love Joy to the World, usually one of my least favorite Christmas songs. The tune is a variation on "Impossible Soul," one of the greatest 9 minute songs in history (off of his Age of Adz album, the closing track), and incorporates the most ending refrain from that piece. It (JttW) also closes with a line from the best modern Christmas classic, turning not just to the finality that JttW typically is, closing Christmas Eve services the world over (unless you're of the sort that does the candle lit, hand-holdey silent night. Were I a pastor, I'd either abolish that or let it be the beginning), by turning to the hope and expectation Christmas represents. It's the best arrangement of a Christmas song I've ever heard, if sentimentalism isn't your bag (at least not christmastime sentimentalism), and, in terms of significance and greatness, my second favorite song of 2012
Artist of the Year: It's always difficult to determine the most definitive artist of my past year in music listening. Much like LeBron could always win the MVP because he's the best player in the league, I could always just pick Kanye, because he's the best artist in the game. He even did some great things in 2012 (what GOOD Music Cruel Summer represents in terms of communal artistry is groundbreaking, if mostly ignored commercially). But I don't think it's actually that easy. Certainly, the day I rode to school listening to it for the first time was sufficiently mind-blowing. Likewise, I could just pick Sufjan because he's Sufjan and I will listen to him til the world ends or I'm drawn from it. It's quite honestly a coin flip between those two. I feel unoriginal to say it, but everything else isn't as consistent. Just look at last years. All I'm doing different is disallowing a runner up, when there just isn't one. http://youtu.be/1nCmeSGVpyU
http://youtu.be/Zr5Q5UJ0udw
Album of the Year: Though you might not know it from all of the musing above, my favorite album was actually Mumford and Sons' Babel this year. It's graceful, forceful, powerful, and charming. There's everything about the human experience and more, all right there. http://youtu.be/urYjkkitfvc
Runner-Up: Kanye West Presents Good Music: Cruel Summer
Sports:
Personal Favorite Team of the Year: 2012 was rough for my rooting interests. Ohio State was suspended from bowls, The Packers lost their first playoff game, the Indians, Browns, and Cavs are/were all pretty abysmal. Thankfully, the OG Titan Football team went undefeated and lost a close game to the eventual state champs. That's remarkable for a program that won all of 3 games my freshman year (now, of course, 11 years back....)
Runner Up: The ever disappointing come post-season, Cincinatti Reds.
So that's that. I'm going to do my best to update once a week this semester/year, probably/hopefully on Thursdays. I can't be held to that, if last year was any indication. But we'll see. Thanks for reading.
-Zack
"There's fantasy, there's fallacy, there's tumbling stone, echoes of a city that's long overgrown"
-Florence and the Machine
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Live in Peace Again
It's always a little odd, the day after Christmas. We've just been through a long season expecting a day- then it comes and goes, and it's 364 more til the next one.
Thankfully, that's one less than we had to deal with last year.
There's much to be said with "living the spirit of Christmas the whole year through:" Peace on Earth, goodwill toward all, not exactly ideals to put on for a day and throw out in January.
But if we were to really live Christmas the whole year through, we'd learn, as I think we do each year, to actually stop, as a society, and take a break, focusing on the things that matter. That's what Christmas is, even for the non-observant and other-religious. No matter what December 25th means, it's impossible to do anything on the day, so why not just enjoy it?
There's also something to be said for its semi-imperliastic omnipresence for the non-observing, but no matter your religious views, there's value in taking the day off and being with those you love (because even TV isn't great).
It's always hard too though, to cope with the dark parts of Christmas: not knowing what to make of those who don't have anyone and in reflecting on those who aren't here for the celebration this year (but were last year). It's hard. Christmas is more than just a day and celebration: it's a societal benchmark the ushers in a week of figuring out what to make of the past year, and how to move past it, always onward and upward.
I love Christmas and with that comes an acute love for Christmas music. There's always a song that sticks out to me more than others, for one reason or another. In a strange turn of events, it was actually "The Little Drummer Boy" this time around. As I listened to and pondered it's seemingly inane message this year, it took on a new shade. Instead of a contrived story about a kid with a drum who visits Jesus (though it's still that too), it's also a story about giving whatever you have, and how Jesus is pleased by that. The boy could have done more than played his drum; he could have given him his drum or his furry vest- Jesus needed those about as much as he needed myrrh at the time too. But it was the song, the rumpatumtum, that led to Mary and Jesus smiling. This year, in what's generally seemed the most useless of Christmas songs, I found a level of relevance. Whoever you are, whatever you have, whatever you can or can't do, do what fits you best. It's simple, it's obvious. But for 3 years, though I was directly serving in the Lord's cause, I was playing the drummer boy with a guitar in his hands. Maybe he can make some notes. But he's the drummer boy. It's drumming he does best. This year, the Little Drummer Boy taught me that it's far better to do the thing God created you to do, than to do something that looks better, but isn't yours to do. For me, and I know it so very deeply, that means law school and beyond.
-Zack
"Peace on Earth, can it be? Years from now, perhaps we'll see"
-David Bowie
Thankfully, that's one less than we had to deal with last year.
There's much to be said with "living the spirit of Christmas the whole year through:" Peace on Earth, goodwill toward all, not exactly ideals to put on for a day and throw out in January.
But if we were to really live Christmas the whole year through, we'd learn, as I think we do each year, to actually stop, as a society, and take a break, focusing on the things that matter. That's what Christmas is, even for the non-observant and other-religious. No matter what December 25th means, it's impossible to do anything on the day, so why not just enjoy it?
There's also something to be said for its semi-imperliastic omnipresence for the non-observing, but no matter your religious views, there's value in taking the day off and being with those you love (because even TV isn't great).
It's always hard too though, to cope with the dark parts of Christmas: not knowing what to make of those who don't have anyone and in reflecting on those who aren't here for the celebration this year (but were last year). It's hard. Christmas is more than just a day and celebration: it's a societal benchmark the ushers in a week of figuring out what to make of the past year, and how to move past it, always onward and upward.
I love Christmas and with that comes an acute love for Christmas music. There's always a song that sticks out to me more than others, for one reason or another. In a strange turn of events, it was actually "The Little Drummer Boy" this time around. As I listened to and pondered it's seemingly inane message this year, it took on a new shade. Instead of a contrived story about a kid with a drum who visits Jesus (though it's still that too), it's also a story about giving whatever you have, and how Jesus is pleased by that. The boy could have done more than played his drum; he could have given him his drum or his furry vest- Jesus needed those about as much as he needed myrrh at the time too. But it was the song, the rumpatumtum, that led to Mary and Jesus smiling. This year, in what's generally seemed the most useless of Christmas songs, I found a level of relevance. Whoever you are, whatever you have, whatever you can or can't do, do what fits you best. It's simple, it's obvious. But for 3 years, though I was directly serving in the Lord's cause, I was playing the drummer boy with a guitar in his hands. Maybe he can make some notes. But he's the drummer boy. It's drumming he does best. This year, the Little Drummer Boy taught me that it's far better to do the thing God created you to do, than to do something that looks better, but isn't yours to do. For me, and I know it so very deeply, that means law school and beyond.
-Zack
"Peace on Earth, can it be? Years from now, perhaps we'll see"
-David Bowie
Thursday, October 25, 2012
So long for so much
Once more it has been too long. I could say a lot. I've been thinking about posts about Kanye and co.'s latest album and it's latent post-modernity, sports in Cleveland (as always), and general updates about law school.
I don't know that, right now, I can really jump into a single topic and give it the treatment it really deserves.
What the really means is that Law School is a lot more time consuming than I may let on. I have never applied myself even 1/3 as much as I am to this to anything I've ever done, and perhaps most especially school work. I hope it pays off. I'm sure I won't fail; it's just a matter of how well I'll actually do. The curve is a harsh thing- and the format doesn't help at all- with little to nothing to guide the process but ungraded midterms and class discussion. So I'm just throwing all of myself at it, and hoping for the best.
But I know it's what I'm supposed to do. I've never known that as much as I know this- indeed, I've always let the thought linger to the point that no matter what I've ever been doing, I've kind of known law school was what I was supposed to be doing, the whole time.
I like it. Actually, I love it. It takes so much- it takes, in many ways, everything. But I've given myself to it- in hip-hop parlance, I'm not coming out of any given semester, nay, day, with anything left in the clip.
I'm not writing, generally, as much as I wish I could. I have no idea what Christmas break is going to look like- there are so many things I wish I could be doing more of right now.
But for the first time in my life, this really feels worth it- worth 100% of the sacrifice and more.
It's been about a year since I decided to go to law school- decided is the wrong word though- since I gave in to the back-of-my-mind pressures. I don't regret it. I can't regret it. I look back in my journal and see spots of praying for affirmation- every step of the way, it's been more than affirmed- it's been brazenly clear that anything else would be wrong.
I'm only about 10 weeks in to my steps in the legal world. But I can't remember loving anything that constituted "work" as much as I love this- not even The Big Lebowski.
It's been a long road. I don't think it would have been right to go to law school fresh out of Wooster.
But now that I'm here, I know beyond all doubt, that I couldn't ever envision myself elsewhere.
-Zack
"Go on 'head switch yo' style up; and if they hate then let 'em hate and watch the money pile up"
-50 Cent
I don't know that, right now, I can really jump into a single topic and give it the treatment it really deserves.
What the really means is that Law School is a lot more time consuming than I may let on. I have never applied myself even 1/3 as much as I am to this to anything I've ever done, and perhaps most especially school work. I hope it pays off. I'm sure I won't fail; it's just a matter of how well I'll actually do. The curve is a harsh thing- and the format doesn't help at all- with little to nothing to guide the process but ungraded midterms and class discussion. So I'm just throwing all of myself at it, and hoping for the best.
But I know it's what I'm supposed to do. I've never known that as much as I know this- indeed, I've always let the thought linger to the point that no matter what I've ever been doing, I've kind of known law school was what I was supposed to be doing, the whole time.
I like it. Actually, I love it. It takes so much- it takes, in many ways, everything. But I've given myself to it- in hip-hop parlance, I'm not coming out of any given semester, nay, day, with anything left in the clip.
I'm not writing, generally, as much as I wish I could. I have no idea what Christmas break is going to look like- there are so many things I wish I could be doing more of right now.
But for the first time in my life, this really feels worth it- worth 100% of the sacrifice and more.
It's been about a year since I decided to go to law school- decided is the wrong word though- since I gave in to the back-of-my-mind pressures. I don't regret it. I can't regret it. I look back in my journal and see spots of praying for affirmation- every step of the way, it's been more than affirmed- it's been brazenly clear that anything else would be wrong.
I'm only about 10 weeks in to my steps in the legal world. But I can't remember loving anything that constituted "work" as much as I love this- not even The Big Lebowski.
It's been a long road. I don't think it would have been right to go to law school fresh out of Wooster.
But now that I'm here, I know beyond all doubt, that I couldn't ever envision myself elsewhere.
-Zack
"Go on 'head switch yo' style up; and if they hate then let 'em hate and watch the money pile up"
-50 Cent
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Checking In
It's been a bit over a month since my last post. When I wrote it, I knew it might be awhile. That suspicion's been confirmed threefold.
5 weeks into law school and it's a lot harder than I expected. It's also much more rewarding and exciting than I anticipated. There's an edge to it, knowing that I'm actually studying the field I'll be working in for, presumably, the rest of my life. I never gave that much thought, but it's actually a rare occurrence in education. I loved the liberal arts education at Wooster, but the actual course material rarely felt directly applicable. It's a new sensation and it's something of a rush. It's a serious, complex endeavor unlike anything else. It's worth it, incredibly worth it.
-Zack
5 weeks into law school and it's a lot harder than I expected. It's also much more rewarding and exciting than I anticipated. There's an edge to it, knowing that I'm actually studying the field I'll be working in for, presumably, the rest of my life. I never gave that much thought, but it's actually a rare occurrence in education. I loved the liberal arts education at Wooster, but the actual course material rarely felt directly applicable. It's a new sensation and it's something of a rush. It's a serious, complex endeavor unlike anything else. It's worth it, incredibly worth it.
-Zack
Monday, August 13, 2012
Fading and Shining
By the end of the day, I'll be entrenched. I'm writing, right now, mostly so I'll have something to look back on in months and years, to know that this version of me existed, and to have something to reflect upon, as close to the threshold as I can get.
After 3 years and 3 months, (appropriately, I turned my I.S. in on March 3rd) I'm heading back to school this evening. It's just a sort of welcome ceremony or something, but classes start tomorrow and then it's all a waterfall.
I know how much I changed through Wooster. It was astronomical. I don't know if I should expect that out of law school, but I'm prepared to be an astoundingly different (and hopefully better) person by the end of the three years I'm giving to further my education. I've already even done some homework and that's actually got me more excited than I thought I'd be. At this point, I like that law school comes with assignments before the first day of class. It assuages the worry about content and expels the uselessness generally inherent to the first day of classes.
With the beginning of school comes, of course, the end of summer. Summer has never been my favorite season, and I don't imagine it will be. It's just too hot and uneventful for the most part. But it was a great summer this time around.
For the first time in 6 years, my summer didn't start in northern Michigan. Coming to terms with what that's meant has been part of the summer's journey, as I cut ties with an organization that had, at least more than any other single entity, til this past April, nurtured me into the person I turned into via Wooster and beyond. In the words of Oswald Chambers, we can't "sympathize with what we must leave behind to walk with God. It's been stabbing Him the whole time."
In many ways, this summer was a sort of dynamo, through which I had to be wrung, in order to come out prepared for the future. It involved leaving. It had to. It involved arduous, somewhat degrading work at the Cleveland Clinic Starbucks (it's not that "barista-ing" is itself degrading, but our particular store has its own way of grinding all of us into something of a dusty paste). Through it all though, I recaptured the fire and love for Cleveland, for the path God's placed me on, for the sake of my love for Him and all those He loves.
In 2009, when I joined staff, I think I did it largely because everyone was telling me that I was called to it. I believed them and I probably should have, in all honesty. I didn't know what else to do and it made sense back then. But somewhere in the journey, I went from serving God to serving InterVarsity, and it started breaking my entire soul to bits. I think the break was actually much earlier than I've yet admitted- during fundraising my first year (which I always hated), it was at the InterVarsity-free Curry Night that I truly felt the sort of love for people I'd been hired to exhibit. Apart from it, it felt like a job- not even a career- just a job I'd been hired to do. So for three years I kept it up, as much I could, but honestly, there was little inside me to keep me going because, ultimately, I wasn't in it for any of the right reasons. My work suffered, my life suffered.
This summer has been about regaining that. And I think I have, to some degree. Even though my job sucked a lot of the time, I've still felt more full of life than I have for years this summer.
I also discovered another city to love. The first week of August, Alexandra and I visited Savannah, Georgia. I'd never been that far south, but I fell in love with the city. I can't quite put my finger on the reason- there's just something in the air there, something in the vibe, with which I felt myself become enthralled. It's a beautiful city, to be certain, but it's also got a strange darkness to it; a sort of melancholy you can't quite escape. To that, it's not unlike Cleveland, where even the most exciting occasions are tinged with a memory of loss and strife. But it isn't like Cleveland. It's a subtropical pre-revolutionary war era city about the size of Toledo. I might retire there sometime, but not after pouring out whatever inside of me now or grows up inside of me yet, for Cleveland.
So it has been an amazing summer. I've not read as much or watched all the movies I'd have liked. But I can't complain. Whatever happened this summer was supposed to happen, in ways little, since Wooster, was. And now I'm on a precipice once more, of a new adventure. I'm running headlong into it, and I couldn't be more excited for the future, from this point onward.
-Zack
"I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels"
-Rush
After 3 years and 3 months, (appropriately, I turned my I.S. in on March 3rd) I'm heading back to school this evening. It's just a sort of welcome ceremony or something, but classes start tomorrow and then it's all a waterfall.
I know how much I changed through Wooster. It was astronomical. I don't know if I should expect that out of law school, but I'm prepared to be an astoundingly different (and hopefully better) person by the end of the three years I'm giving to further my education. I've already even done some homework and that's actually got me more excited than I thought I'd be. At this point, I like that law school comes with assignments before the first day of class. It assuages the worry about content and expels the uselessness generally inherent to the first day of classes.
With the beginning of school comes, of course, the end of summer. Summer has never been my favorite season, and I don't imagine it will be. It's just too hot and uneventful for the most part. But it was a great summer this time around.
For the first time in 6 years, my summer didn't start in northern Michigan. Coming to terms with what that's meant has been part of the summer's journey, as I cut ties with an organization that had, at least more than any other single entity, til this past April, nurtured me into the person I turned into via Wooster and beyond. In the words of Oswald Chambers, we can't "sympathize with what we must leave behind to walk with God. It's been stabbing Him the whole time."
In many ways, this summer was a sort of dynamo, through which I had to be wrung, in order to come out prepared for the future. It involved leaving. It had to. It involved arduous, somewhat degrading work at the Cleveland Clinic Starbucks (it's not that "barista-ing" is itself degrading, but our particular store has its own way of grinding all of us into something of a dusty paste). Through it all though, I recaptured the fire and love for Cleveland, for the path God's placed me on, for the sake of my love for Him and all those He loves.
In 2009, when I joined staff, I think I did it largely because everyone was telling me that I was called to it. I believed them and I probably should have, in all honesty. I didn't know what else to do and it made sense back then. But somewhere in the journey, I went from serving God to serving InterVarsity, and it started breaking my entire soul to bits. I think the break was actually much earlier than I've yet admitted- during fundraising my first year (which I always hated), it was at the InterVarsity-free Curry Night that I truly felt the sort of love for people I'd been hired to exhibit. Apart from it, it felt like a job- not even a career- just a job I'd been hired to do. So for three years I kept it up, as much I could, but honestly, there was little inside me to keep me going because, ultimately, I wasn't in it for any of the right reasons. My work suffered, my life suffered.
This summer has been about regaining that. And I think I have, to some degree. Even though my job sucked a lot of the time, I've still felt more full of life than I have for years this summer.
I also discovered another city to love. The first week of August, Alexandra and I visited Savannah, Georgia. I'd never been that far south, but I fell in love with the city. I can't quite put my finger on the reason- there's just something in the air there, something in the vibe, with which I felt myself become enthralled. It's a beautiful city, to be certain, but it's also got a strange darkness to it; a sort of melancholy you can't quite escape. To that, it's not unlike Cleveland, where even the most exciting occasions are tinged with a memory of loss and strife. But it isn't like Cleveland. It's a subtropical pre-revolutionary war era city about the size of Toledo. I might retire there sometime, but not after pouring out whatever inside of me now or grows up inside of me yet, for Cleveland.
So it has been an amazing summer. I've not read as much or watched all the movies I'd have liked. But I can't complain. Whatever happened this summer was supposed to happen, in ways little, since Wooster, was. And now I'm on a precipice once more, of a new adventure. I'm running headlong into it, and I couldn't be more excited for the future, from this point onward.
-Zack
"I have stoked the fire on the big steel wheels"
-Rush
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
#indivisible : a turned corner
About
one year ago, almost exactly, I wrote a post about abandoning capitalism.
I thought I'd check in and see where the state of that line of thinking
has me these days.
At the
time, I called it a process into the unknown-- I just knew that I hated the
commodification and exploitation inherent in capitalistic systems.
Nothing's
changed there.
I've
been thinking a lot about the global economy lately and its interconnectivity.
If you pay attention to the stock markets at all, it's not hard to learn
that fluctuations in greece somehow impact the cost of stocks in the U.S.
I still don't know 100% how-- investor sentiment is powerful but it's
ultimately fake. Nothing is worth more than anyone's willing to pay for
it, so markets the world over are ultimately driven by the end consumer.
Pepsi, a stock I actually own some of, is priced right around 70.50 per
share this week. That's a price set by how much people are paying for it
as its traded on the NYSE- it's literally a market, supply/demand price.
It's also, however, when multiplied out, the total worth of the entire
pepsi corporation. That means its either more, less, or exactly how much
the company makes from sales, owns in assets, etc. The most important
part of that number is the sales- more the expected sales than anything else-
past sales have been either paid out or reinvested at this point.
Pepsi, a
corporation visible the world over, makes its money, ultimately, when people
buy drinks. That's not a surprise. People are either buying pepsi
or they aren't, but everyone is drinking something, or they're not living.
The ultimate longevity of the brand comes down to its appeal to
consumers. But at the end of the day, there are only so many consumers on
the face of the earth.
Jumping
quite a few steps back, there are only so many assets in the world- there are
only so many people, only so many hours to work and dollars to be made.
If Greece is making a difference in U.S. markets, I wonder if it’s anything to
worry about. The world economy is a closed system. It's a
monstrously huge and insidious system. But it's closed. Markets
will rise and markets will fall. The only reason it matters is if you're
putting your eggs too heavily in a basket that's falling. But if all the
baskets are falling, ultimately, it doesn't matter, I don't think- eventually,
it will lead to deflation and will self correct, at least somewhere in the
world.
That's
the writ-large nihilistic version of how I think about the economy.
But it's
not that simple. It would be, if everyone had equal access to wealth and
resources. But we don't. If everyone could choose to invest in
everything, it ultimately wouldn't matter. But there are people
everywhere who don’t have as much as a choice about what to eat every night.
That's
the disparity and it’s why rising tides never lift all boats. If you give
me 100 dollars to use as I wish, solely on myself, I'll either waste it or
invest it, but I won't give it to anyone who needs it, unless I've decided to
do something altruistic with it- and that's the rub.
Capitalism,
as an ideal is perfect because it ought to lead to actual growth and that
should trickle down. It never does though, because an investment in pepsi
isn't a necessary investment in a job for an unemployed person-- but an
investment in pepsi is a great decision from a fiscal standpoint.
Capitalism,
on its own, is broken and will be, because we live real lives in a real world
where we can't just jump on the meta-telescopic mobile and see how it doesn't
matter too much and we'll all be fine.
There
are only so many people in the world and they're all only living so many years.
The economies of the world will self-correct because the system is still
closed- but that doesn't say anything about the lives that get lost or broken
via the collateral damage.
And
that's why we've got to take the power into our own hands. I can make
money. I will make money. If I have my way, I'll make a lot of money.
But I can choose what I do with it, and, one year since denouncing
capitalism, my resolution stands firm and attempts to take action, even in
small, karmic ways have started: giving to those who ask on the streets,
tipping well because minimum wage can't afford a bare minimum life, choosing to
make money by non-exploitive ways, buying fair trade coffee—little stuff,
certainly, but something.
I still
live in a capitalist country and, unless Cleveland gets overtaken by a
different nation, I will for the rest of my life. But just because the
government won't share all its wealth with everyone doesn't mean I can't do my
best to do it myself.
I've
just barely scratched the surface, but one year in, I've realized that a rising
tide only carries all boats when you've thrown out the rope to tow the lower ones
up with you.
-Zack
"Why
can't we give love one more chance?"
-David Bowie
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Moonrise Kingdom (is a brilliant movie...if you've seen it, you'll know how this title fits)
Curry Night ended forever last night.
It'd been about a year since I last made it to Curry Night.
Even so, I'm sad to see it go.
To say Curry Night changed my life would simply be the tip of a very large ice berg.
It's where I met Alexandra after all. But it was more; so much more.
Curry Night entered my life during one of the darkest periods through which I've ever lived.
I was living at home, struggling to raise money to start at Hillsdale. A friend from church invited me initially, and the rest is a sort of history.
What exactly was Curry Night and why did it matter so much?
From the looks of it, it was just a house full of people enjoying a lot of free Indian food, every Tuesday night. That's all I knew about it when I went. Ultimately, that's all it needed to be, and from there, the rest followed.
It was a place where truly, literally, always, everyone was welcome. There was an inherent, tangible value attributed to each and every person who walked across the threshold. If you had no friends and walked through the door, you'd leave with half a dozen and you'd feel like you knew them for your whole life.
It was just an open table-- all were welcome and the ball started rolling.
Curry Night entered my life just when I needed it-- it can't and hasn't been replaced. Probably 10 of my top 25 memories from my lifetime are directly tied to Curry Night- and hundreds more indirectly. It wasn't some kind of club- it was a place where everyone belonged. To that extent, for a few hours every Tuesday, it was a sort of heaven on Earth.
It's all over now and there's a hole in the hearts of probably hundreds of Findlay residents (past and present) today.
But the memories will last forever, and, to bring the cliche home, the relationships will never end.
I can count at least 4 marriages from Curry Night and that's barely a drip on the barometer of the sorts of important relationships that started at Curry. Heck- one of the driving forces behind my ultimate decision to go to law school was a conversations at- where else- Curry Night. That was actually my last Curry Night. Fitting really- forever and ever, Curry Night will have changed the course of my life- and I know I'm not alone.
I used to drive at least 8 hours per month so I could go to Curry night every other week. It kept me sane during the harrowing Hillsdale months.
For the record, as soon as I got to Hillsdale, about 1.5 months after my first Curry Night, I never struggled with funding again and left staff with a monstrous surplus. God knew what he was doing, to say the least.
Though I (and no one else) will ever attend another Curry Night, we've all got the picture of what life can be on this side of heaven- and if all 300 or so of us keep seeking and creating it- the world, too, is going to change because of it.
It was a fire we all built in our own little ways. It's burned out now, through the unavoidable facts of life- but there's no reason we can't each go on to our own new place and start a new one with the kindling gleaned over the past 4 years.
-Zack
"I know I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love"
-Pearl Jam
It'd been about a year since I last made it to Curry Night.
Even so, I'm sad to see it go.
To say Curry Night changed my life would simply be the tip of a very large ice berg.
It's where I met Alexandra after all. But it was more; so much more.
Curry Night entered my life during one of the darkest periods through which I've ever lived.
I was living at home, struggling to raise money to start at Hillsdale. A friend from church invited me initially, and the rest is a sort of history.
What exactly was Curry Night and why did it matter so much?
From the looks of it, it was just a house full of people enjoying a lot of free Indian food, every Tuesday night. That's all I knew about it when I went. Ultimately, that's all it needed to be, and from there, the rest followed.
It was a place where truly, literally, always, everyone was welcome. There was an inherent, tangible value attributed to each and every person who walked across the threshold. If you had no friends and walked through the door, you'd leave with half a dozen and you'd feel like you knew them for your whole life.
It was just an open table-- all were welcome and the ball started rolling.
Curry Night entered my life just when I needed it-- it can't and hasn't been replaced. Probably 10 of my top 25 memories from my lifetime are directly tied to Curry Night- and hundreds more indirectly. It wasn't some kind of club- it was a place where everyone belonged. To that extent, for a few hours every Tuesday, it was a sort of heaven on Earth.
It's all over now and there's a hole in the hearts of probably hundreds of Findlay residents (past and present) today.
But the memories will last forever, and, to bring the cliche home, the relationships will never end.
I can count at least 4 marriages from Curry Night and that's barely a drip on the barometer of the sorts of important relationships that started at Curry. Heck- one of the driving forces behind my ultimate decision to go to law school was a conversations at- where else- Curry Night. That was actually my last Curry Night. Fitting really- forever and ever, Curry Night will have changed the course of my life- and I know I'm not alone.
I used to drive at least 8 hours per month so I could go to Curry night every other week. It kept me sane during the harrowing Hillsdale months.
For the record, as soon as I got to Hillsdale, about 1.5 months after my first Curry Night, I never struggled with funding again and left staff with a monstrous surplus. God knew what he was doing, to say the least.
Though I (and no one else) will ever attend another Curry Night, we've all got the picture of what life can be on this side of heaven- and if all 300 or so of us keep seeking and creating it- the world, too, is going to change because of it.
It was a fire we all built in our own little ways. It's burned out now, through the unavoidable facts of life- but there's no reason we can't each go on to our own new place and start a new one with the kindling gleaned over the past 4 years.
-Zack
"I know I'm a lucky man to count on both hands the ones I love"
-Pearl Jam
Friday, June 22, 2012
Just a Mirror
Last night, though I was asleep when it happened, LeBron James won his first NBA title. You'd need to be under a rock if you care about that fact but just learned it from me. Sorry if you had it DVR'd and actually did manage to avoid the news thus far.
Though LeBron doesn't know I exist, he's one of the top 10 characters in my life, were my life a novel- at least in recurrences and impact. I'm still processing the fact that a guy I saw and knew about while he was in high school just won an NBA title. A guy my middle-of-nowhere, Putnam County, Ohio basketball team was beating by ten at half time in 2003.
Honestly, it's hard to believe he's the same guy.
Looking back though, it's hard to believe I'm the same guy either.
I've grown a lot, I've changed a lot. To say the same has happened to LeBron is an understatement.
But as I sit here, still processing what it all means, trying to wrap my Cavaliers-obsessed brain around it and get past the bitterness that that ring could have been ours, I keep coming back to a fact that scares me and should make all of the vitriol around Cleveland toward LeBron take a step back, especially amongst people in my own generation.
I'll never be pleased with how LeBron left Cleveland. I'll never be convinced that he, playing like he did this past month, would have been denied a title no matter the supporting cast. He could have stayed in Cleveland and done the same. I know it. Deep down, from Avon to Mentor, we all know it.
But LeBron didn't do anything hundreds of kids who grew up in Ohio do every single year, maybe every day: grow up somewhere in the state, stay in Cleveland and love that it's close to home, then leave and experience great success.
It's the storyline of athletes for generations: The Ravens, Sabathia, Cliff Lee, Manny Ramirez, Brandon Phillips, etc.
But it's the story of our state and the story of the past 40 years or more.
People have been moving to Cleveland to get their life started, then leaving Cleveland when greater horizons beckon. Indeed, that's what Scott Raab, author of the Lebron hate-piece "The Whore of Akron" did. Raab couldn't make it as a writer in Cleveland so he had to move to New Jersey. That's not even a real upgrade- it's just a proximity thing. At least Miami has an ocean and 365 days of summer.
That's how Cleveland and Ohio have been for generations- a sort of minor leagues for life.
It is possible to stay in Cleveland and carve out a career- but it's easier to go somewhere bigger and better, that much is certain. Yes, LeBron took the easy way out, but that's only infuriating because of Cleveland's sports history and the fact that media outlets write about what basketball players do. At the end of the day, LeBron just made a move in his industry to be more successful than staying in Cleveland (at least in his mind) would allow.
If it weren't for the Cleveland Clinic, there'd be nothing holding the best and the brightest in northeast Ohio, and even less drawing them in.
It's just the way things work because there's an internalized perception that, staying in Cleveland, you'll never make it to the top.
I don't know; maybe it's true. I'm not to the top yet.
I wonder if so much of the LeBron hate in Cleveland stems from a belief that he got out when so many of us wish we could. It's certainly unfair to say that because so many people really do love Cleveland, but the fact remains that we don't have half the population we did in the sixties. It's not just LeBron who's leaving Cleveland for the perceived bigger and better.
I'm not leaving Cleveland as a matter of principal. It might be wholly irrational, but I'd rather forgo perceived success elsewhere in an effort to make progress in the city I love. That's the attitude everyone wanted LeBron to have but never really required it of their own children. Cleveland's never going to be what it could if we expect more out of our athletes than we do ourselves.
At the end of the day, LeBron's just like us, but his job gets media attention. He's always been human and that's our biggest problem with him. We wanted a savior and we got a 18 year old kid who grew up in Akron. Why did we expect him to be anything more than all of the other 18 year old kids from Akron who moved to Cleveland in 2003? Most of them have probably left in search of more success too.
-Zack
"Pair of forgivers let go before it's too late"
-The Naked and Famous
Though LeBron doesn't know I exist, he's one of the top 10 characters in my life, were my life a novel- at least in recurrences and impact. I'm still processing the fact that a guy I saw and knew about while he was in high school just won an NBA title. A guy my middle-of-nowhere, Putnam County, Ohio basketball team was beating by ten at half time in 2003.
Honestly, it's hard to believe he's the same guy.
Looking back though, it's hard to believe I'm the same guy either.
I've grown a lot, I've changed a lot. To say the same has happened to LeBron is an understatement.
But as I sit here, still processing what it all means, trying to wrap my Cavaliers-obsessed brain around it and get past the bitterness that that ring could have been ours, I keep coming back to a fact that scares me and should make all of the vitriol around Cleveland toward LeBron take a step back, especially amongst people in my own generation.
I'll never be pleased with how LeBron left Cleveland. I'll never be convinced that he, playing like he did this past month, would have been denied a title no matter the supporting cast. He could have stayed in Cleveland and done the same. I know it. Deep down, from Avon to Mentor, we all know it.
But LeBron didn't do anything hundreds of kids who grew up in Ohio do every single year, maybe every day: grow up somewhere in the state, stay in Cleveland and love that it's close to home, then leave and experience great success.
It's the storyline of athletes for generations: The Ravens, Sabathia, Cliff Lee, Manny Ramirez, Brandon Phillips, etc.
But it's the story of our state and the story of the past 40 years or more.
People have been moving to Cleveland to get their life started, then leaving Cleveland when greater horizons beckon. Indeed, that's what Scott Raab, author of the Lebron hate-piece "The Whore of Akron" did. Raab couldn't make it as a writer in Cleveland so he had to move to New Jersey. That's not even a real upgrade- it's just a proximity thing. At least Miami has an ocean and 365 days of summer.
That's how Cleveland and Ohio have been for generations- a sort of minor leagues for life.
It is possible to stay in Cleveland and carve out a career- but it's easier to go somewhere bigger and better, that much is certain. Yes, LeBron took the easy way out, but that's only infuriating because of Cleveland's sports history and the fact that media outlets write about what basketball players do. At the end of the day, LeBron just made a move in his industry to be more successful than staying in Cleveland (at least in his mind) would allow.
If it weren't for the Cleveland Clinic, there'd be nothing holding the best and the brightest in northeast Ohio, and even less drawing them in.
It's just the way things work because there's an internalized perception that, staying in Cleveland, you'll never make it to the top.
I don't know; maybe it's true. I'm not to the top yet.
I wonder if so much of the LeBron hate in Cleveland stems from a belief that he got out when so many of us wish we could. It's certainly unfair to say that because so many people really do love Cleveland, but the fact remains that we don't have half the population we did in the sixties. It's not just LeBron who's leaving Cleveland for the perceived bigger and better.
I'm not leaving Cleveland as a matter of principal. It might be wholly irrational, but I'd rather forgo perceived success elsewhere in an effort to make progress in the city I love. That's the attitude everyone wanted LeBron to have but never really required it of their own children. Cleveland's never going to be what it could if we expect more out of our athletes than we do ourselves.
At the end of the day, LeBron's just like us, but his job gets media attention. He's always been human and that's our biggest problem with him. We wanted a savior and we got a 18 year old kid who grew up in Akron. Why did we expect him to be anything more than all of the other 18 year old kids from Akron who moved to Cleveland in 2003? Most of them have probably left in search of more success too.
-Zack
"Pair of forgivers let go before it's too late"
-The Naked and Famous
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
On an edge
For the past two years, I've been working through Proust's Recherer du temps Perdu (In Search of Lost Time, en Anglaise). As of today, I've less than 250 pages left. Thought I've read long books before, and long serieses, I don't know that I'll miss any of them the way I'll miss my daily dose of Proust.
It isn't fun. It isn't easy. But it's good. It is so good. Nowhere else that I've found has been a pure impression of a person's mind the way Proust provided. How in the world can 2000 pages about a fairly typical life among French aristocrats be interesting? I suppose to many, it isn't. But if you've anything of the adoration for a beautifully crafted sentence I claim, you'll love every moment.
I met a guy at the "Y" a few weeks ago who noted my reading of Proust and commented that he gave it up after the first two. I don't know how that's possible. There's little plot to draw you on, but, more than with any other novel or collection of novels I've ever read, plot isn't necessary. I've been saying that phrase, that plot isn't necessary, for years (I wrote 100 pages of it so I could gradutate from Wooster), and Proust proves my point. It's not the story you tell but the way you construct your sentences, upon each other, that matters most. Or at least that's what Proust says subconsciously. You might disagree. Or maybe you don't like to read as much as you like to view media and can get entranced by a media telling you something interesting, riveting, or exciting. It's okay if that's you..but my port of call for literature and art is different.
I've loved Proust to the degree that I've only loved Jesus, Alexandra, and our Dog Hazel as much in the past two years. Annie Dillard said a novel, at its core, is a line of words. She wasn't wrong.
Short of Joyce, no one made those lines like Proust. Transcending Joyce and allowing his mind to open in ways which the rest of us can only dream, you'll find Marcel Proust, in a room full of cork. If Joyce could have been that lucid and honest, the art of literature would have hit its peak and modernism wouldn't have proved a failure. Alas, Proust, though brilliant, is no Joyce as a writer. Joyce, however, was miles behind Proust as a human.
That's life I guess.
-Zack
"Nowhere else has ever felt like home"
-Anberlin
It isn't fun. It isn't easy. But it's good. It is so good. Nowhere else that I've found has been a pure impression of a person's mind the way Proust provided. How in the world can 2000 pages about a fairly typical life among French aristocrats be interesting? I suppose to many, it isn't. But if you've anything of the adoration for a beautifully crafted sentence I claim, you'll love every moment.
I met a guy at the "Y" a few weeks ago who noted my reading of Proust and commented that he gave it up after the first two. I don't know how that's possible. There's little plot to draw you on, but, more than with any other novel or collection of novels I've ever read, plot isn't necessary. I've been saying that phrase, that plot isn't necessary, for years (I wrote 100 pages of it so I could gradutate from Wooster), and Proust proves my point. It's not the story you tell but the way you construct your sentences, upon each other, that matters most. Or at least that's what Proust says subconsciously. You might disagree. Or maybe you don't like to read as much as you like to view media and can get entranced by a media telling you something interesting, riveting, or exciting. It's okay if that's you..but my port of call for literature and art is different.
I've loved Proust to the degree that I've only loved Jesus, Alexandra, and our Dog Hazel as much in the past two years. Annie Dillard said a novel, at its core, is a line of words. She wasn't wrong.
Short of Joyce, no one made those lines like Proust. Transcending Joyce and allowing his mind to open in ways which the rest of us can only dream, you'll find Marcel Proust, in a room full of cork. If Joyce could have been that lucid and honest, the art of literature would have hit its peak and modernism wouldn't have proved a failure. Alas, Proust, though brilliant, is no Joyce as a writer. Joyce, however, was miles behind Proust as a human.
That's life I guess.
-Zack
"Nowhere else has ever felt like home"
-Anberlin
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Upon the corridor
You might not have heard yet. I don't work for InterVarsity anymore- I'm headed to law school and working at Starbucks in the meantime. The party line is an amicable split. The truth is something different.
In early April, I received the manual for the track I was to teach at Chapter Focus week this year. "Truth that Works, Truth that Heals." It fashions itself a bit philosophical, as an apologetics and "worldview" track. Included in that is, of course, one of the biggest questions facing Christian college students today: "What about gay people?"
It shouldn't surprise you (it didn't surprise me) that the manual takes a pretty traditional view of scripture and affirms that all sexual relationships between people sharing matching genitalia are always, without exception, objective sin.
I used to believe that too, but I've grown a lot since then because I've been around earnest Christians trying to do what God wants, who've found a place in God's heart for openly gay and lesbian expressions of love, and they've not experienced, from God, a shunning of their souls. At first this sent me reeling, but then it kept happening. In response I've decided that I'd rather love those around me without exception, especially when it seems there's certainly a multitude of ways to interpret scripture the Truth that Works, Truth that Heals manual wouldn't consider for a moment. I'd rather love and be wrong when I get to heaven, then be wrong for not loving. That's the land on which I've found myself standing lately.
So I raised a few concerns. I couldn't find it in myself to tacitly approve of the track's content. I sent a few e-mails and vaguely said that I couldn't affirm that position. My track got changed and I thought I'd get to ride off into the sunset with InterVarsity, toward Law School.
God is much more sovereign though, and he'd been preparing me. A bit over a week ago, I wrote a very honest monthly report, wherein I made it clear that my will and ability to do what InterVarsity requires of their staff didn't really exist anymore. I'd been faking it for a long time, and I did what I could to clarify that.
Like I said, God is sovereign.
The response I received, to my monthly report, was short, to say the least. It was terse, really, and ultimately graceless. "We're requiring you, despite all the concerns you raised about your personal well-being, to fulfill the job description til July" I thought I'd have to fight that, I thought it'd get messy.
But the response continued: (all of this is paraphrase)
"What's more important is that we get a few things clear about your stance on homosexuality. InterVarsity's official stance is:
1. Sexual attraction to a member of the same sex is a disorder and outside God's will
2. A person can't help his or her attractions, so suffering from same-sex attraction does not preclude an individual from InterVarsity chapters or staffwork.
3. Acting on a same-sex attraction is outside of God's plan and is therefore, under all circumstances, sin.
Can you say in good faith that you have a real stance on those matters? If not, we can delay our monthly supervisory meeting til next week so you can pray about it."
My reply was short. "Let's meet tomorrow" I said.
I didn't get much sleep that night. I'd had too much caffeine, certainly. But beyond that, I knew, from something deep inside, that I'd lost InterVarsity in much the same way Proust's narrator lost Albertine (figuring out what that simile means is worth the work, trust me). The next morning, I was in a bit of a haze- I'd got about 4 hours of sleep but could find no more. 7-11 a.m. were some of the longest hours in my life.
But the time came, and my monthly supervisory appointment happened. We ate first, as we always do, but that was foolish. It was just a bunch of platitudes, though we both knew what was coming. And it did.
The question from the e-mail was asked again. "Do you have a set position on the matter?" And I answered in the affirmative. I answered that it differed vastly from InterVarsity. Before that time I didn't know InterVarsity had an official stance on the matter. Turns it, it isn't completely public yet and only present in a document only certain staff can access. I got a copy though, to inform my decision. My decision existed long before, of course.
Over and over I was asked if I'd be willing to support InterVarsity's position in InterVarsity contexts. I can't, because that would be disingenuous and essentially hateful to people that I love and respect. It was for that lack of willingness that my appointment with InterVarsity was officially terminated come the first of May.
"It's unfortunate it had to end like this" my supervisor said. She is correct, but only in the definitions of the words, not in what she meant by them. Because it is unfortunate. Not that I had to be fired for being obstinate, as I'm sure she meant, but in that InterVarsity had to come down so strongly on a matter apart from the purity of the Gospel. The truth is, Christians- full fledged followers of Jesus- exist, who read the Bible differently on any number of matters from one another- and this is one of them. In the exchange, a great rift took place. When I joined InterVarsity and joined staff, part of my decision was based on how ecumenical it seemed- allowing all sorts of viewpoints and fostering constructive discussion; proclaiming the Gospel as a uniting force. But a sharp turn's been taken. Now, apparently, at least on this matter, there's only one way to look at it in order to be accepted by InterVarsity, no matter the fervor of your faith or the sincerity of your love for Christ. It's a sharp turn to a world where exclusivity and rightness are valued more than love and inclusion, and a willingness to journey alongside one another toward Christ.
I was fired for an ideal on which I wouldn't relent. Short of proclaiming a false gospel, I didn't think that was possible in InterVarsity. But then again, it seems InterVarsity today isn't what I thought it was either. I lament that fact.
InterVarsity, right now, faces stiff tests for campus access. Chapters around the country have lost their campus recognition over discrimination in leadership selection. I always thought that concept was crazy and an overstepping of bounds by campus administrators, asking a Christian group to willfully give leadership to non-Christians. At this point, though, even if all of the cases are precisely that, I can't believe InterVarsity is indeed non-discriminatory. With the publication of the Theological Response to the LGBT Community, InterVarsity organizationally declares that an interpretation of the Bible, apart from their own, is grounds for firing of staff and preclusion of members.
So much for inductive method....
-Zack
"afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength"
-Nas
In early April, I received the manual for the track I was to teach at Chapter Focus week this year. "Truth that Works, Truth that Heals." It fashions itself a bit philosophical, as an apologetics and "worldview" track. Included in that is, of course, one of the biggest questions facing Christian college students today: "What about gay people?"
It shouldn't surprise you (it didn't surprise me) that the manual takes a pretty traditional view of scripture and affirms that all sexual relationships between people sharing matching genitalia are always, without exception, objective sin.
I used to believe that too, but I've grown a lot since then because I've been around earnest Christians trying to do what God wants, who've found a place in God's heart for openly gay and lesbian expressions of love, and they've not experienced, from God, a shunning of their souls. At first this sent me reeling, but then it kept happening. In response I've decided that I'd rather love those around me without exception, especially when it seems there's certainly a multitude of ways to interpret scripture the Truth that Works, Truth that Heals manual wouldn't consider for a moment. I'd rather love and be wrong when I get to heaven, then be wrong for not loving. That's the land on which I've found myself standing lately.
So I raised a few concerns. I couldn't find it in myself to tacitly approve of the track's content. I sent a few e-mails and vaguely said that I couldn't affirm that position. My track got changed and I thought I'd get to ride off into the sunset with InterVarsity, toward Law School.
God is much more sovereign though, and he'd been preparing me. A bit over a week ago, I wrote a very honest monthly report, wherein I made it clear that my will and ability to do what InterVarsity requires of their staff didn't really exist anymore. I'd been faking it for a long time, and I did what I could to clarify that.
Like I said, God is sovereign.
The response I received, to my monthly report, was short, to say the least. It was terse, really, and ultimately graceless. "We're requiring you, despite all the concerns you raised about your personal well-being, to fulfill the job description til July" I thought I'd have to fight that, I thought it'd get messy.
But the response continued: (all of this is paraphrase)
"What's more important is that we get a few things clear about your stance on homosexuality. InterVarsity's official stance is:
1. Sexual attraction to a member of the same sex is a disorder and outside God's will
2. A person can't help his or her attractions, so suffering from same-sex attraction does not preclude an individual from InterVarsity chapters or staffwork.
3. Acting on a same-sex attraction is outside of God's plan and is therefore, under all circumstances, sin.
Can you say in good faith that you have a real stance on those matters? If not, we can delay our monthly supervisory meeting til next week so you can pray about it."
My reply was short. "Let's meet tomorrow" I said.
I didn't get much sleep that night. I'd had too much caffeine, certainly. But beyond that, I knew, from something deep inside, that I'd lost InterVarsity in much the same way Proust's narrator lost Albertine (figuring out what that simile means is worth the work, trust me). The next morning, I was in a bit of a haze- I'd got about 4 hours of sleep but could find no more. 7-11 a.m. were some of the longest hours in my life.
But the time came, and my monthly supervisory appointment happened. We ate first, as we always do, but that was foolish. It was just a bunch of platitudes, though we both knew what was coming. And it did.
The question from the e-mail was asked again. "Do you have a set position on the matter?" And I answered in the affirmative. I answered that it differed vastly from InterVarsity. Before that time I didn't know InterVarsity had an official stance on the matter. Turns it, it isn't completely public yet and only present in a document only certain staff can access. I got a copy though, to inform my decision. My decision existed long before, of course.
Over and over I was asked if I'd be willing to support InterVarsity's position in InterVarsity contexts. I can't, because that would be disingenuous and essentially hateful to people that I love and respect. It was for that lack of willingness that my appointment with InterVarsity was officially terminated come the first of May.
"It's unfortunate it had to end like this" my supervisor said. She is correct, but only in the definitions of the words, not in what she meant by them. Because it is unfortunate. Not that I had to be fired for being obstinate, as I'm sure she meant, but in that InterVarsity had to come down so strongly on a matter apart from the purity of the Gospel. The truth is, Christians- full fledged followers of Jesus- exist, who read the Bible differently on any number of matters from one another- and this is one of them. In the exchange, a great rift took place. When I joined InterVarsity and joined staff, part of my decision was based on how ecumenical it seemed- allowing all sorts of viewpoints and fostering constructive discussion; proclaiming the Gospel as a uniting force. But a sharp turn's been taken. Now, apparently, at least on this matter, there's only one way to look at it in order to be accepted by InterVarsity, no matter the fervor of your faith or the sincerity of your love for Christ. It's a sharp turn to a world where exclusivity and rightness are valued more than love and inclusion, and a willingness to journey alongside one another toward Christ.
I was fired for an ideal on which I wouldn't relent. Short of proclaiming a false gospel, I didn't think that was possible in InterVarsity. But then again, it seems InterVarsity today isn't what I thought it was either. I lament that fact.
InterVarsity, right now, faces stiff tests for campus access. Chapters around the country have lost their campus recognition over discrimination in leadership selection. I always thought that concept was crazy and an overstepping of bounds by campus administrators, asking a Christian group to willfully give leadership to non-Christians. At this point, though, even if all of the cases are precisely that, I can't believe InterVarsity is indeed non-discriminatory. With the publication of the Theological Response to the LGBT Community, InterVarsity organizationally declares that an interpretation of the Bible, apart from their own, is grounds for firing of staff and preclusion of members.
So much for inductive method....
-Zack
"afraid not of none of you cowards but of my own strength"
-Nas
Saturday, March 17, 2012
A Name worth having
Thanks to LeBron's aided autobiography Shooting Stars, I thought he was staying in Cleveland. It's a dully written account of his AAU and high school teams and their eventual rise to a national championship, but it masquerades, in part, as a love letter to Akron. More than the comradery and friendship spurring them onto athletic heights, it's a book about the motivation to "Put Akron on the map." Cleveland isn't very far from Akron, I reasoned, and that meant he'd do all he could to stay in northeast Ohio. Obviously, that wasn't what happened because LeBron draws a line between Akron and Cleveland. As I'm finding, most Cleveland natives don't do that, but I've never heard an Akron native say they're from Cleveland. It's a similar region, sure, but I'm not from Toledo and Wooster is a far cry from Cleveland, so I know what it means, to not buy into a melting pot mentality where the biggest city in a certain region takes precedence. Looking back, the more accurate argument is that LeBron wanted to put Akron on the map precisely because it wasn't Cleveland. Without Cleveland, this part of the world would be the Akron area. They've got their own airport, they've got their own state university, they've got their own courthouse, and they're in a different county. Akron isn't Cleveland, and it was probably the fact that Cleveland is on all maps and Akron isn't that meant the most to LeBron.
It's not LeBron's motives that I want to write about- it's his sentiment and how it is manifest in Cleveland, toward Cleveland.
Nationally, isn't known for much but failure. There are valid reasons for that and I'll always argue that it's tragically unfair. The symphony, the culinary scene, the museums, the arts scene-- they're strides ahead many major U.S. cities, but the national reputation isn't there. Likewise, it's impossible to talk about Cleveland without mentioning the sports- though 3 major sports teams are here, to look at ESPN most of the time, you wouldn't know it.
When you're in Cleveland, it's easy to get lost in the great things going on in the city (or frightened by the bad). Taking a step back though, there's not a lot of publicity outside of Cleveland that would suggest its at all a place worthy of visiting, living, or investing.
My opinion is skewed by my biased intake of mostly sports media (and NPR), but across the board, Cleveland can't even get respect from Forbes magazine as a tortured sports city. It's easy to look at things nationally and view Cleveland as, at best, a footnote. Even statewide, Cleveland feels a bit separate from Ohio. We spent last weekend in Columbus and, though it's the biggest city in the state, it's got a more midwestern, less east-coast urban feel than Cleveland. In many ways, Columbus Ohio resembles Madison Wisconsin more than Cleveland. Perhaps outside of Steubenville, Youngstown, and Akron, there isn't a place that feels remotely like Cleveland in the rest of Ohio. Every place is unique, of course, so you can't take that too far, but it's, as far as I can tell, its own sort of reality. I've got my theories (perhaps the predominant of which being cultural background- Cleveland hasn't had nearly as much German American influence as essentially the rest of the state, and that changes things in surprisingly evident ways), but it all boils down to a crumbling bridge. Cleveland doesn't fit into Ohio terribly well because it's on the cusp (though less and less seemingly all the time) of being a major U.S. metropolitan area, but gets what at least appears to be none of the respect and perks that should go with that.
Statistics could derail all of this, but back to LeBron. He wanted to put Akron on the map, but Cleveland's been on the map, for a long time. Everyone here knows that. Anyone who spends a week eating out in this city realizes that there's a better restaurant scene going on here than most places otherwise. But how would you ever know that, looking at the rest of the country? The end result, as I often see it, is a mixture of ambivalence and anger. I've talked to and heard a lot of angry people, desiring a form of respect for Cleveland that just isn't there. I've also heard and talked to a lot of people that don't care and just want to live life whatever that means, regardless of the city's reputation.
I think the proper path to pursue lies somewhere between those options. It's important for the long-suffering economy of Cleveland that real respect actually come our way. We can't just be poor old Cleveland, or bad old Cleveland, or liberal old Cleveland if we're going to get what we need at the State level. Likewise, we can't just be written off on the national level if the synergy needed to see economic renewal emerge is ever going to happen. Companies aren't going to come to a place perceived as more dying than reviving- it's really that simple.
Ultimatley, the issue might lie most in Cleveland's eclecticism. If you're not New York, it seems you've got to be exceptional at one thing in order for the collective American psyche to accept and affirm what's going on. Outside of the Cleveland Clinic (which most people don't care about til they need it, unfortunately), Cleveland doesn't really lead in anything. We can argue for top 5 status in a lot of things, but there's no niche (outside of corned beef, perhaps, but I care more about that than the average person, I'll admit) that makes Clevealnd a destination for a certain experience. Unfortunately, the Rock Hall just doesn't cut it (not, especially, when you can experience the most important aspect of the inductees via Pandora from anywhere on Earth. Celebrating mostly dead recording artists isn't exactly a fruitful industry, in the digital age).
It would be wonderful, were it possible, for Cleveland to grab something and become a true leader. The better option though, would be an expansion on the part of the collective American psyche, to value true diversity and eclectic experience. That wouldn't just help Cleveland- honestly, it'd help the whole midwest, wherein cities just aren't coastal, by definition, and thus, don't boast singularly defining experiences. I don't know how to do that, but it's got to start, step by step, with inviting people to experience Cleveland and tell others about it- and the reputation has to come back.
That's why it hurt so much when LeBron left. We were there, we were "back." Cleveland mattered and it wasn't supposed to be too long before that ended in a championship-- finally being able to say we're the best at something.
LeBron wasn't going to single-handedly renew this city, and a championship, by any of the three teams won't either. Nevertheless, something has to happen, at some point, to rebuild, to some degree, Cleveland's reputation. That's why we're a sports-obsessed city, I think. Every season is a chance, in a city where few chances ever come by.
-Zack
"we had our mind's set, all things no, all things no.
You had to find it, all things go, all things go"
-Sufjan Stevens
It's not LeBron's motives that I want to write about- it's his sentiment and how it is manifest in Cleveland, toward Cleveland.
Nationally, isn't known for much but failure. There are valid reasons for that and I'll always argue that it's tragically unfair. The symphony, the culinary scene, the museums, the arts scene-- they're strides ahead many major U.S. cities, but the national reputation isn't there. Likewise, it's impossible to talk about Cleveland without mentioning the sports- though 3 major sports teams are here, to look at ESPN most of the time, you wouldn't know it.
When you're in Cleveland, it's easy to get lost in the great things going on in the city (or frightened by the bad). Taking a step back though, there's not a lot of publicity outside of Cleveland that would suggest its at all a place worthy of visiting, living, or investing.
My opinion is skewed by my biased intake of mostly sports media (and NPR), but across the board, Cleveland can't even get respect from Forbes magazine as a tortured sports city. It's easy to look at things nationally and view Cleveland as, at best, a footnote. Even statewide, Cleveland feels a bit separate from Ohio. We spent last weekend in Columbus and, though it's the biggest city in the state, it's got a more midwestern, less east-coast urban feel than Cleveland. In many ways, Columbus Ohio resembles Madison Wisconsin more than Cleveland. Perhaps outside of Steubenville, Youngstown, and Akron, there isn't a place that feels remotely like Cleveland in the rest of Ohio. Every place is unique, of course, so you can't take that too far, but it's, as far as I can tell, its own sort of reality. I've got my theories (perhaps the predominant of which being cultural background- Cleveland hasn't had nearly as much German American influence as essentially the rest of the state, and that changes things in surprisingly evident ways), but it all boils down to a crumbling bridge. Cleveland doesn't fit into Ohio terribly well because it's on the cusp (though less and less seemingly all the time) of being a major U.S. metropolitan area, but gets what at least appears to be none of the respect and perks that should go with that.
Statistics could derail all of this, but back to LeBron. He wanted to put Akron on the map, but Cleveland's been on the map, for a long time. Everyone here knows that. Anyone who spends a week eating out in this city realizes that there's a better restaurant scene going on here than most places otherwise. But how would you ever know that, looking at the rest of the country? The end result, as I often see it, is a mixture of ambivalence and anger. I've talked to and heard a lot of angry people, desiring a form of respect for Cleveland that just isn't there. I've also heard and talked to a lot of people that don't care and just want to live life whatever that means, regardless of the city's reputation.
I think the proper path to pursue lies somewhere between those options. It's important for the long-suffering economy of Cleveland that real respect actually come our way. We can't just be poor old Cleveland, or bad old Cleveland, or liberal old Cleveland if we're going to get what we need at the State level. Likewise, we can't just be written off on the national level if the synergy needed to see economic renewal emerge is ever going to happen. Companies aren't going to come to a place perceived as more dying than reviving- it's really that simple.
Ultimatley, the issue might lie most in Cleveland's eclecticism. If you're not New York, it seems you've got to be exceptional at one thing in order for the collective American psyche to accept and affirm what's going on. Outside of the Cleveland Clinic (which most people don't care about til they need it, unfortunately), Cleveland doesn't really lead in anything. We can argue for top 5 status in a lot of things, but there's no niche (outside of corned beef, perhaps, but I care more about that than the average person, I'll admit) that makes Clevealnd a destination for a certain experience. Unfortunately, the Rock Hall just doesn't cut it (not, especially, when you can experience the most important aspect of the inductees via Pandora from anywhere on Earth. Celebrating mostly dead recording artists isn't exactly a fruitful industry, in the digital age).
It would be wonderful, were it possible, for Cleveland to grab something and become a true leader. The better option though, would be an expansion on the part of the collective American psyche, to value true diversity and eclectic experience. That wouldn't just help Cleveland- honestly, it'd help the whole midwest, wherein cities just aren't coastal, by definition, and thus, don't boast singularly defining experiences. I don't know how to do that, but it's got to start, step by step, with inviting people to experience Cleveland and tell others about it- and the reputation has to come back.
That's why it hurt so much when LeBron left. We were there, we were "back." Cleveland mattered and it wasn't supposed to be too long before that ended in a championship-- finally being able to say we're the best at something.
LeBron wasn't going to single-handedly renew this city, and a championship, by any of the three teams won't either. Nevertheless, something has to happen, at some point, to rebuild, to some degree, Cleveland's reputation. That's why we're a sports-obsessed city, I think. Every season is a chance, in a city where few chances ever come by.
-Zack
"we had our mind's set, all things no, all things no.
You had to find it, all things go, all things go"
-Sufjan Stevens
Monday, February 20, 2012
A Different Throne
I should preface this post by saying it's completely uninformed, all things consider.
As you might have seen, if you've read this regularly for the past month, I dubbed Stephen King my personal "author of 2011." As honors go, that doesn't really mean much to anyone but me. Even so, there's a better chance for a "repeat" next year than there's ever been since I've started making those "personal best of the year" lists, 6 years ago. There have been a few repeat musical artists (mostly because I used to be obsessed with synth pop, when there are less than 10 really great, consistently creating, national synth pop groups)
So far, I've only read the first five "Dark Tower" books by Stephen King. As a writer, he's passable but nothing too special. He reminds me of a great American restaurant...even if it's the best American restaurant, it's still American, and for my taste, that means it's 4th best in the world, at best (because I'll always prefer Chinese, Italian, and French food). It's not King's nationality that makes him "nothing too special" (though I'd be dishonest to say that it plays something of a role in how I consider novels). It's his hearkening to Hemmingway in his simplicity without the "every-sentence-is-cathartic" sensation. He just tells a story. In a way, he's like the American J.K. Rowling for adults (though a better writer by leaps and bounds). He tells a great story, and that's his best quality. It's the story and the creativity that erases one's concern over the ever-present inelegantly simple sentences.
As an artist, I respect his ability to write the stories he writes- horror or not (and I'd argue he's more a Hitchcockian thriller writer than a purely fear-driven writer). Taking King's art as an expression of his inner being sheds light on a genius who seems to inhabit, mentally, a completely different world. King's persona-as-writer is enthralling to me- I envision him constantly holed up in a cabin by a lake in Maine, grinding out sense-of-place masterpieces on the daily. To think that an artist could stay in Maine (the place he loves) and attain his heights of accomplishment gives Cleveland artists hope, doesn't it?
As a writer, he's no Philip Pullman. Though the two have little to do with each other it's pertinent because Pullman constantly refuses to call himself a "Writer." "I tell stories" he says "When you think of yourself as anything but a storyteller, you begin to lose focus." And yet, Pullman is one of the greatest technical writers living today. He tells passable stories, but does so with structure, diction, and elegance unparalleled by most. As a writer, I'd rather read Philip Pullman's shopping list than Stephen King's non-fiction (seriously...read some of his book reviews- if it wasn't "Stephen King," I doubt they'd be published). And yet- His Dark Materials is brilliant, but did not keep me reading into the late hours (figuratively- I read primarily in the morning) nearly as often as The Dark Tower has over the past year or so.
It is a tyranny for me to write this. I'm as much a literary purist as you'll ever find. But there's something appealing, even so, about a story unfettered by human artistic artifice. For me, it's almost as if King's failings as a sentence-builder make the story that much more interesting because I'm not distracted from the plot by the beauty of the writing. It's easier for me to overlook the mundane- as it ought to be, in most things.
As time passes, it's true- I'll always consider His Dark Materials, Ulysses, and Wuthering Heights greater works of art, more ultimately meaningful to my life as a writer and student of language. But the works of the likes of King and Rowling have worth as well- as interesting, riveting stories- inaccurately told, to be sure, but full of an enjoyment I'd miss if the same story were told by a better writer.
And yet- that's not possible. Sometimes, I beat myself up for not being able to come up with ideas as creative as King or Rowling. But it's not my place to write those stories. Faulkner couldn't write The House on Pooh Corner. Though I don't have an unending tolerance for less-than-perfect writing in the face of a great story (sorry Twilight, you just don't make the cut), I'm glad to be able to say that finally, I can enjoy a story for a story despite how it's told. I'll always be more Stephen Dedalus than Leopold Bloom; an aesthete incapable of seeing sentences as nothing but functions toward pleasures- but so was James Joyce, and that's company I don't mind.
-Zack
"So come to me, come to me now, lay your arms around me"
-The Decemberists
As you might have seen, if you've read this regularly for the past month, I dubbed Stephen King my personal "author of 2011." As honors go, that doesn't really mean much to anyone but me. Even so, there's a better chance for a "repeat" next year than there's ever been since I've started making those "personal best of the year" lists, 6 years ago. There have been a few repeat musical artists (mostly because I used to be obsessed with synth pop, when there are less than 10 really great, consistently creating, national synth pop groups)
So far, I've only read the first five "Dark Tower" books by Stephen King. As a writer, he's passable but nothing too special. He reminds me of a great American restaurant...even if it's the best American restaurant, it's still American, and for my taste, that means it's 4th best in the world, at best (because I'll always prefer Chinese, Italian, and French food). It's not King's nationality that makes him "nothing too special" (though I'd be dishonest to say that it plays something of a role in how I consider novels). It's his hearkening to Hemmingway in his simplicity without the "every-sentence-is-cathartic" sensation. He just tells a story. In a way, he's like the American J.K. Rowling for adults (though a better writer by leaps and bounds). He tells a great story, and that's his best quality. It's the story and the creativity that erases one's concern over the ever-present inelegantly simple sentences.
As an artist, I respect his ability to write the stories he writes- horror or not (and I'd argue he's more a Hitchcockian thriller writer than a purely fear-driven writer). Taking King's art as an expression of his inner being sheds light on a genius who seems to inhabit, mentally, a completely different world. King's persona-as-writer is enthralling to me- I envision him constantly holed up in a cabin by a lake in Maine, grinding out sense-of-place masterpieces on the daily. To think that an artist could stay in Maine (the place he loves) and attain his heights of accomplishment gives Cleveland artists hope, doesn't it?
As a writer, he's no Philip Pullman. Though the two have little to do with each other it's pertinent because Pullman constantly refuses to call himself a "Writer." "I tell stories" he says "When you think of yourself as anything but a storyteller, you begin to lose focus." And yet, Pullman is one of the greatest technical writers living today. He tells passable stories, but does so with structure, diction, and elegance unparalleled by most. As a writer, I'd rather read Philip Pullman's shopping list than Stephen King's non-fiction (seriously...read some of his book reviews- if it wasn't "Stephen King," I doubt they'd be published). And yet- His Dark Materials is brilliant, but did not keep me reading into the late hours (figuratively- I read primarily in the morning) nearly as often as The Dark Tower has over the past year or so.
It is a tyranny for me to write this. I'm as much a literary purist as you'll ever find. But there's something appealing, even so, about a story unfettered by human artistic artifice. For me, it's almost as if King's failings as a sentence-builder make the story that much more interesting because I'm not distracted from the plot by the beauty of the writing. It's easier for me to overlook the mundane- as it ought to be, in most things.
As time passes, it's true- I'll always consider His Dark Materials, Ulysses, and Wuthering Heights greater works of art, more ultimately meaningful to my life as a writer and student of language. But the works of the likes of King and Rowling have worth as well- as interesting, riveting stories- inaccurately told, to be sure, but full of an enjoyment I'd miss if the same story were told by a better writer.
And yet- that's not possible. Sometimes, I beat myself up for not being able to come up with ideas as creative as King or Rowling. But it's not my place to write those stories. Faulkner couldn't write The House on Pooh Corner. Though I don't have an unending tolerance for less-than-perfect writing in the face of a great story (sorry Twilight, you just don't make the cut), I'm glad to be able to say that finally, I can enjoy a story for a story despite how it's told. I'll always be more Stephen Dedalus than Leopold Bloom; an aesthete incapable of seeing sentences as nothing but functions toward pleasures- but so was James Joyce, and that's company I don't mind.
-Zack
"So come to me, come to me now, lay your arms around me"
-The Decemberists
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
On every Corner
I may have found a new spot to work at night. I'm locked out of my house right now, because I left my keys in my other coat, after walking the dog. I was going to drive to Starbucks (an impressive Starbucks). That's where I normally end up, if I've got time and I've got to write. But today, as I said, I'm locked out of my house. So I walked. In Lakewood, where we live now, there's essentially a coffee house of some sort on every single corner. I ended up in what sounds like and is a hotbed of 21st century Hippy culture- the Root. It's terribly crowded in here. Because I'm reading Les Miserables right now, I'm reminded that this is the sort of place where the French Revolution started.
No one here is starting the French Revolution. I can only hope, in some way, I'll get to be a part of what I envision as something of a Cleveland revolution.
But we're here, in a nice, alternative, sort of town on the west side of Cleveland. Lakewood's the closest thing to a college town lacking a college as I've ever been. It feels more like a college town than most towns I've ever visited. But it's still Llakewood. It's still, at its core, a nice-ish sort of place.
I can't speak for anyone else in here anyway. At best, most people are just hanging out or doing homework. I like the vibe in this place, and the coffee's pretty good. If it's always this crowded, I don't think I'll ever really be able to work here. But I can hang out here- it's like George House North, but far more granola.
This afternoon, I was on the East side. I missed my exit going to a Bible study to which no one showed up. I needed gas, so I stopped at a Marathon on E. 55th. That's in the heart of Hough- very much one of Clevelands formerly organized and now de facto ghettos. In this part of town, there's a gas station on every corner. As such, I wasn't surprised when someone asked me, the moment I got out of my car, if I could help him get something to eat. I wanted to. I always want to. I'm a remarkable sucker for anyone asking for anything on the street. But I had to get going, so I told him I'd talk to him after I pumped my gas. He waited for me, didn't get too close. I didn't have much cash on me, but he let me get him a corned beef sandwich (in Cleveland, more places sell those than don't). As we waited, I talked to him a bit. His name is Bruce. He's in the homeless donut hole, so to speak. He is waiting to get his birth certificate so he can get his i.d. and move into a shelter. As he put it, he's living on the streets right now, just him and God.
I don't know if I could have done more. I don't know if he would have let me anyway. I hope and pray he found somewhere to sleep tonight, even while I noticed, myself stuck outside for a bit this evening, that it's getting colder by the minute in Cleveland tonight. I probably won't see him again. But I'll pray for him, as often as I remember, as often as I can.
I left Bruce, as he walked across the street, toward Burger King, for whatever reason, I don't know. I left knowing that I had no idea what could be done for him. I don't know anything about the process to get the birth certificate and the id. I can't do much to anything to help with that, and I don't have any strings I could pull. I'm glad he got a meal, but what else and how, will his needs be met? He's not even allowed into the shelter right now.
I missed my exit. No one came to Bible study. And yet, today, in a completely accidental, some would say coincidental sort of way, I think I was glad for what I experienced, for where God placed me, more than I've been at all since leaving Wooster. I'm probably given to hyperbole, I know I often overstate. But no matter what I've done in my IV staff career, or what I've yet to do, I know my calling is to Cleveland, to the homeless, to the disenfranchised, to those in the midst of a struggle tied to legal red tape. And that's why I have to go to law school. It doesn't take a law degree to buy someone a corned beef sandwich, but I've been thinking, all day, about how I would at least have had the opportunity to do something more for Bruce today, and could do more for people like him in the future, if I had more knowledge, more resources. I was more excited to talk to Bruce today, to buy him a corned beef sandwich, than I've ever been for coffee with even the most stellar student. InterVarsity does great work, but I'm so sure, right now, that the rest of my life has to be directly tied and devoted to whatever "the least of these" means in Cleveland. InterVarsity fights for justice and raises all sorts of awareness. But all of that only matters when it is actually spurring students, upon graduation, into fields that do the same. Art, law, business, medicine, all require the hope and love of Christ if we're actually going to see the world changed. I'm glad for InterVarsity staff. I'm hopeful more and more will come on. But I know it's not for me. It's not how I'm wired, not anymore at least.
We're all made differently. At Urbana '06, it was all about "the calling you have received." It was there that I decided I was going into law for the wrong reasons, and that's the starting point of the journey that took me onto staff. But, in its own way, that's the starting point that got me back to a law career. I couldn't admit that I was doing the right thing, had I never abandoned it then. Now, I know, deeper than almost all else, that I'm doing the wrong thing to do anything else. Bruce needs people to fight for him. Legally, I'm not even sure he exists right now. Even so, even farther than that, he's one of the realest people I've ever met in Cleveland.
I don't want to sound like there's a dichotomy between staff/law/anything else as right/wrong/anything. It's not that. But we are who we are because that's the person God made us to be. It's a great thing to be on InterVarsity staff and say yes to God, saying yes to the field of vocational ministry. It's a dangerous and foolish thing though, to say yes to vocational ministry and say no to God at the same time. I said yes to God last fall, fully and finally. Today, in the person of Bruce, God answered a resounding "Welcome to reality" right back.
Pray for Bruce. Pray for Cleveland.
-Zack
No one here is starting the French Revolution. I can only hope, in some way, I'll get to be a part of what I envision as something of a Cleveland revolution.
But we're here, in a nice, alternative, sort of town on the west side of Cleveland. Lakewood's the closest thing to a college town lacking a college as I've ever been. It feels more like a college town than most towns I've ever visited. But it's still Llakewood. It's still, at its core, a nice-ish sort of place.
I can't speak for anyone else in here anyway. At best, most people are just hanging out or doing homework. I like the vibe in this place, and the coffee's pretty good. If it's always this crowded, I don't think I'll ever really be able to work here. But I can hang out here- it's like George House North, but far more granola.
This afternoon, I was on the East side. I missed my exit going to a Bible study to which no one showed up. I needed gas, so I stopped at a Marathon on E. 55th. That's in the heart of Hough- very much one of Clevelands formerly organized and now de facto ghettos. In this part of town, there's a gas station on every corner. As such, I wasn't surprised when someone asked me, the moment I got out of my car, if I could help him get something to eat. I wanted to. I always want to. I'm a remarkable sucker for anyone asking for anything on the street. But I had to get going, so I told him I'd talk to him after I pumped my gas. He waited for me, didn't get too close. I didn't have much cash on me, but he let me get him a corned beef sandwich (in Cleveland, more places sell those than don't). As we waited, I talked to him a bit. His name is Bruce. He's in the homeless donut hole, so to speak. He is waiting to get his birth certificate so he can get his i.d. and move into a shelter. As he put it, he's living on the streets right now, just him and God.
I don't know if I could have done more. I don't know if he would have let me anyway. I hope and pray he found somewhere to sleep tonight, even while I noticed, myself stuck outside for a bit this evening, that it's getting colder by the minute in Cleveland tonight. I probably won't see him again. But I'll pray for him, as often as I remember, as often as I can.
I left Bruce, as he walked across the street, toward Burger King, for whatever reason, I don't know. I left knowing that I had no idea what could be done for him. I don't know anything about the process to get the birth certificate and the id. I can't do much to anything to help with that, and I don't have any strings I could pull. I'm glad he got a meal, but what else and how, will his needs be met? He's not even allowed into the shelter right now.
I missed my exit. No one came to Bible study. And yet, today, in a completely accidental, some would say coincidental sort of way, I think I was glad for what I experienced, for where God placed me, more than I've been at all since leaving Wooster. I'm probably given to hyperbole, I know I often overstate. But no matter what I've done in my IV staff career, or what I've yet to do, I know my calling is to Cleveland, to the homeless, to the disenfranchised, to those in the midst of a struggle tied to legal red tape. And that's why I have to go to law school. It doesn't take a law degree to buy someone a corned beef sandwich, but I've been thinking, all day, about how I would at least have had the opportunity to do something more for Bruce today, and could do more for people like him in the future, if I had more knowledge, more resources. I was more excited to talk to Bruce today, to buy him a corned beef sandwich, than I've ever been for coffee with even the most stellar student. InterVarsity does great work, but I'm so sure, right now, that the rest of my life has to be directly tied and devoted to whatever "the least of these" means in Cleveland. InterVarsity fights for justice and raises all sorts of awareness. But all of that only matters when it is actually spurring students, upon graduation, into fields that do the same. Art, law, business, medicine, all require the hope and love of Christ if we're actually going to see the world changed. I'm glad for InterVarsity staff. I'm hopeful more and more will come on. But I know it's not for me. It's not how I'm wired, not anymore at least.
We're all made differently. At Urbana '06, it was all about "the calling you have received." It was there that I decided I was going into law for the wrong reasons, and that's the starting point of the journey that took me onto staff. But, in its own way, that's the starting point that got me back to a law career. I couldn't admit that I was doing the right thing, had I never abandoned it then. Now, I know, deeper than almost all else, that I'm doing the wrong thing to do anything else. Bruce needs people to fight for him. Legally, I'm not even sure he exists right now. Even so, even farther than that, he's one of the realest people I've ever met in Cleveland.
I don't want to sound like there's a dichotomy between staff/law/anything else as right/wrong/anything. It's not that. But we are who we are because that's the person God made us to be. It's a great thing to be on InterVarsity staff and say yes to God, saying yes to the field of vocational ministry. It's a dangerous and foolish thing though, to say yes to vocational ministry and say no to God at the same time. I said yes to God last fall, fully and finally. Today, in the person of Bruce, God answered a resounding "Welcome to reality" right back.
Pray for Bruce. Pray for Cleveland.
-Zack
Monday, January 9, 2012
Recognize
This won't mean much to you if you're not from or live in Cleveland and or don't care about sports.
They say Cleveland is a football town; I can't dispute that. I'm not a Browns fan particularly (though I'd like to see them do well), but it seems nearly everyone else is in Cleveland. Not only are there few supporters of other teams, it's the Browns that get supremacy as the top-dog team among the four pro-teams(though no one actually counts the Lake Erie Monsters) in the city. If you listen to sports talk radio, even right now, the Browns get next to all of the headlines.
A few years back, at least this time of year, that wasn't the case. When LeBron was in town and the Cavs were title contenders, they were the toast of the town. That all changed, obviously, and the Browns came back on top despite their consistent inability to even be competitive.
The NFL is the most popular sport's league in the country right now. Football is the most popular sport. Last Friday, I was watching the Cavs hang with a solid Minnesota team, while in the workout room at our apartment. It went to the commercial so I was reading. During that commercial break, three other guys came in and changed it to the Orange Bowl; a completely meaningless game between a team from West Virginia and a team from South Carolina I don't know who the guys were and I had about 2 minutes left, so I didn't make a big deal about it, but to me, it was a telling experience: there are people who live in Cleveland's inner-city who prefer poorly played amateur football to a riveting game of professional basketball. Two years ago, that wouldn't have ever been the case. Had it been a Brown's regular season game, even this year when they were abysmal, that wouldn't have happened.
I could bemoan the evident lack of respect and pride in the Cavs I see around the city. I could excoriate these three people as representative for the whole city when I shouldn't. I don't know them. One was wearing a camo-style Indians hat, but other than that, I know next to nothing about them.
Whether or not Cleveland as a metro-area loves the Cavs as much as I do or as much as I believe we all ought is immaterial. I've watched at least some of every Cavs game so far this year though, and something magical is happening when they take the court to represent Cleveland. More than anything, I'm afraid the majority of the city is going to miss it.
Cleveland, as a city, has a certain character about it. There's something beneath the surface of the people here. It's certainly a blue collar town in its way, but it's not Detroit in that sense and it's not Toledo or Pittsburgh either. There's something else, something burning and delightful, but hard and tempered on the surface. There's a grit and a grime about the city and the people who live here. That sounds dirty and, in a way, it is a bit, but it's also a sort of resolve and drive that says, in the face of any amount of adversity, that we aren't going anywhere and while we probably won't live to see Cleveland become the metropolis it was once on the track toward, we aren't going to give up the hope that we can do something to propel this city forward. When I watch this year's edition of the Cavs, I see that play out on the court every night.
No matter the deficit, if these Cavaliers do anything, it's hustle. They don't give up. Last night, in the face of a 15 point deficit that turned into a 20 point loss, even more than halfway through the 4th quarter, players were running down loose balls like their entire point of being was winning the game. The style of defense, the tenacity and the hardness with which they play throbs with the spirit of Cleveland's heart. It is still true that each player is either young, lack talent, or both, but as a unit, they come together and operate like a free-wheeling machine hellbent on accomplishing nothing if not putting forth more effort than would seem humanly possible. Losses are going to happen. I'm hopeful for the playoffs, but I'm more doubtful when I'm honest. That's the way the game breaks. But, at least for 8 games, I've never seen a basketball team play that hard, for that long, relentlessly. When I think about their relationship to Cleveland, I can't help but be proud; they/we might not win every game and probably won't win a championship anytime soon, but at least I know they're trying. That is Cleveland as currently situated. The Browns might be what all of Cleveland loves best, but the Cavaliers are the epitome of Cleveland. As of now, it doesn't seem that most of Cleveland really knows or cares. I just hope the snowball rolls up and we all take notice while we still can.
Perhaps the most ironic thing about it all is the way LeBron's Cavs never quite characterized Cleveland. LeBron is hated for two things here that are really one: quitting in the playoffs and betraying the city. More than anything else, he is a quitter- not just for leaving and giving up on his goal to bring Cleveland a championship, but, more importantly and not muddled by his personal rights, he quit on the team during the Boston series his two years ago. Cleveland doesn't quit. Feeling as if he was one of our own then seeing him do the things he did drew such a vehement negative response because people who had thought they saw themselves in LeBron ended up seeing that he was never even close to one of us. He just represented us, and, when it mattered most, he did so poorly. LeBron's Cavs were always characterized by having at least one player better than anyone else on the other team. That's not Cleveland. We have very little to offer that is, on its own, better than any other singular thing in any other city in the world. But altogether, when you take the food, the lack of traffic, the symphony, the spirit, etc...it all adds up to something beautiful. LeBron's leaving cost Cleveland a legitimate title shot for years, but if these Cavs, at any point, do win a championship, it will be as a team far more representative of Cleveland as a place, as a collective. That will be many times more glorious.
-Zack
"I'm sorry but I just can't die for you but I can make 'em put their hands in the sky for you"
-Jay-Z
They say Cleveland is a football town; I can't dispute that. I'm not a Browns fan particularly (though I'd like to see them do well), but it seems nearly everyone else is in Cleveland. Not only are there few supporters of other teams, it's the Browns that get supremacy as the top-dog team among the four pro-teams(though no one actually counts the Lake Erie Monsters) in the city. If you listen to sports talk radio, even right now, the Browns get next to all of the headlines.
A few years back, at least this time of year, that wasn't the case. When LeBron was in town and the Cavs were title contenders, they were the toast of the town. That all changed, obviously, and the Browns came back on top despite their consistent inability to even be competitive.
The NFL is the most popular sport's league in the country right now. Football is the most popular sport. Last Friday, I was watching the Cavs hang with a solid Minnesota team, while in the workout room at our apartment. It went to the commercial so I was reading. During that commercial break, three other guys came in and changed it to the Orange Bowl; a completely meaningless game between a team from West Virginia and a team from South Carolina I don't know who the guys were and I had about 2 minutes left, so I didn't make a big deal about it, but to me, it was a telling experience: there are people who live in Cleveland's inner-city who prefer poorly played amateur football to a riveting game of professional basketball. Two years ago, that wouldn't have ever been the case. Had it been a Brown's regular season game, even this year when they were abysmal, that wouldn't have happened.
I could bemoan the evident lack of respect and pride in the Cavs I see around the city. I could excoriate these three people as representative for the whole city when I shouldn't. I don't know them. One was wearing a camo-style Indians hat, but other than that, I know next to nothing about them.
Whether or not Cleveland as a metro-area loves the Cavs as much as I do or as much as I believe we all ought is immaterial. I've watched at least some of every Cavs game so far this year though, and something magical is happening when they take the court to represent Cleveland. More than anything, I'm afraid the majority of the city is going to miss it.
Cleveland, as a city, has a certain character about it. There's something beneath the surface of the people here. It's certainly a blue collar town in its way, but it's not Detroit in that sense and it's not Toledo or Pittsburgh either. There's something else, something burning and delightful, but hard and tempered on the surface. There's a grit and a grime about the city and the people who live here. That sounds dirty and, in a way, it is a bit, but it's also a sort of resolve and drive that says, in the face of any amount of adversity, that we aren't going anywhere and while we probably won't live to see Cleveland become the metropolis it was once on the track toward, we aren't going to give up the hope that we can do something to propel this city forward. When I watch this year's edition of the Cavs, I see that play out on the court every night.
No matter the deficit, if these Cavaliers do anything, it's hustle. They don't give up. Last night, in the face of a 15 point deficit that turned into a 20 point loss, even more than halfway through the 4th quarter, players were running down loose balls like their entire point of being was winning the game. The style of defense, the tenacity and the hardness with which they play throbs with the spirit of Cleveland's heart. It is still true that each player is either young, lack talent, or both, but as a unit, they come together and operate like a free-wheeling machine hellbent on accomplishing nothing if not putting forth more effort than would seem humanly possible. Losses are going to happen. I'm hopeful for the playoffs, but I'm more doubtful when I'm honest. That's the way the game breaks. But, at least for 8 games, I've never seen a basketball team play that hard, for that long, relentlessly. When I think about their relationship to Cleveland, I can't help but be proud; they/we might not win every game and probably won't win a championship anytime soon, but at least I know they're trying. That is Cleveland as currently situated. The Browns might be what all of Cleveland loves best, but the Cavaliers are the epitome of Cleveland. As of now, it doesn't seem that most of Cleveland really knows or cares. I just hope the snowball rolls up and we all take notice while we still can.
Perhaps the most ironic thing about it all is the way LeBron's Cavs never quite characterized Cleveland. LeBron is hated for two things here that are really one: quitting in the playoffs and betraying the city. More than anything else, he is a quitter- not just for leaving and giving up on his goal to bring Cleveland a championship, but, more importantly and not muddled by his personal rights, he quit on the team during the Boston series his two years ago. Cleveland doesn't quit. Feeling as if he was one of our own then seeing him do the things he did drew such a vehement negative response because people who had thought they saw themselves in LeBron ended up seeing that he was never even close to one of us. He just represented us, and, when it mattered most, he did so poorly. LeBron's Cavs were always characterized by having at least one player better than anyone else on the other team. That's not Cleveland. We have very little to offer that is, on its own, better than any other singular thing in any other city in the world. But altogether, when you take the food, the lack of traffic, the symphony, the spirit, etc...it all adds up to something beautiful. LeBron's leaving cost Cleveland a legitimate title shot for years, but if these Cavs, at any point, do win a championship, it will be as a team far more representative of Cleveland as a place, as a collective. That will be many times more glorious.
-Zack
"I'm sorry but I just can't die for you but I can make 'em put their hands in the sky for you"
-Jay-Z
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