Virginia Wolfe counseled us to colonize a corner, a room of our own. This is sage advice indeed, and I’d like to follow it, but carving out such space is no small challenge in an 800 square foot apartment with a burly (well, not THAT burly) husband, and a quartet of energetic, athletic, operatic offspring. I am squeezed by that teeming brood, forced to perch on countertops to do my work, as all other surfaces are piled high and teetering with papers to grade, books and articles to read, and bills to pay.
Thwarted by my own reproductive sprawl, and the modesty of my wallet, I have resorted to virtual space, where real estate is cheaper and people don’t constantly want to sit on my lap (Hani, not NOW). Here, I will spill out the contents of my well-intentioned but admittedly strange mind. Welcome to my brain on caffeine and sleep-deprivation. It is cluttered, occasionally creative, frequently ridiculous, usually interesting. Hopefully you will find something here that resonates with your own experience. Why should it matter? I suspect there would be far less suffering and inequality in the world if we humans connected across the chasms of difference we have constructed. We tend to be nicer to those people we know and/or identify with; it is far easier to cheat, swindle, neglect or physically harm a person (or group of people) that you have convinced yourself is cut from an entirely different cloth.
The array of human experience and expression across the globe is diverse indeed, but at our core, we are all fundamentally the same: we laugh with friends, rail against perceived injustice, love our children tenderly, and grieve the loss of those we hold dear. For all the downsides of globalization, one benefit is a growing capacity to reach across land, culture and time to connect with, and learn about, other human beings. I would like this site to be one small contribution to connection and communication across real and imagined barriers. Please leave a comment; I’d like to hear from you.
In the immortal words of Eminem,
“I am, whatever you SAY I am,
if I wasn’t, then why would I SAY I am,
in the paper, the news, every DAY I am,
The radio won’t even play my jam.”
And that’s true, they won’t. I’ve tried. They just keep telling me they’re “not into” playing anthropology riffs with a bagpipe backbeat and castanet counter rhythm during their morning rap line-up. Fine, I say. Their loss.
But while Eminem is comfortable allowing the world to define him, I’ll provide my own definition:
I am alternately and simultaneously a writer, anthropologist, teacher, learner, advisor, advisee, activist, advocate, mother, sister, partner, sister, friend, cook, cleaning woman, accountant, gardener, administrator, singer, dancer and artist. I teach, write, love, laugh and raise a tribe of girls in Sandy Eggo, CA.
In January, 2005, a young anthropologist boards a plane in Los Angeles with her husband and two young children, and flies to Egypt, a world both ancient and modern. So begins a year and a half sojourn in the most populous city in the Middle East.
View Trailer:
