Costco run ahead of Father’s Day and the boy’s arrival. Got some provisions and some snacks. Couldn’t resist these.
Two hour lunch downtown today. Talked about the future with a financial advisor, and what I can do to make things better going forward.
Three questions I receive about my doctoral program most often:
- what's the topic of your dissertation?
- what are you writing about?
- how much longer do you have til your finished?
The answer to questions #1 and #2 are largely similar. My dissertation focuses on the datafication and commercialization of education. Specifically, I am investigating teacher and student perceptions of educational technologies and the ways in which "big data" platforms like Google, Microsoft, and Apple impact education practice.
I am also looking at this topic from an organizational leadership perspective. In other words, how do school districts and school site administrators create positive learning outcomes in this "postdigital" world? Here's an abstract from a recent journal article that I read, annotated, and cited. Maybe this helps to clarify the topic, or maybe it completely confuses the issue. Trust that I am just as confused as you, dear reader.
The answer to question #3 is not known. I am trying. And, I am aiming for a final dissertation defense in May or June 2024.
When you’re younger you make fun of it because it seems boring but one of the best parts of getting older and maturing is recognizing how simply lovely all that cliché shit is. Sunsets really are so endlessly satisfying. The hint of lilacs in the breeze really is soft and delicate and sweet. Sometimes it feels good just to successfully clean the sink, to find an affordable appliance in the color you’ve been wanting, to try a new recipe, to finally get through that one television series like how you’ve been meaning.
It seemed stupid because they tell you—it’ll feel quick—but it does feel quick. When I was younger it was like time was molasses. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. All the eras of my life stretched out into taffy. But then you are 29 on a walk with a friend and you both just stop to smell the lily of the valley at your feet. You are both standing there, quiet, enjoying the simple moment of peace.
They say it gets better a lot, which used to have no meaning to me. Better for me was undefined and daunting. But here is one way it got better without me trying. A few days ago i was walking my dog and stopped to stand in a sunbeam, turning my cheeks up at the shaft of golden fairylights, the dustmotes in the wood all shivering their little dancing bodies. A stranger stopped and kind of cocked her head and asked, ”basking?” and I laughed nervously, already moving to get out of her way. Instead, she asked, “can i bask with you?” and we stood there, full adults, a soundless hum in our chest. When the clouds came back over the sun, we made that awkward small talk — “yeah, i didn’t expect it to be this chilly!” and “haha, spring allergies are coming.”
And you pour yourself a cup of tea and are delighted when you measure the sugar ratio perfectly and you manage to parallel park correctly on the first time (probably because nobody was looking) and yoga really did help your lower back mobility and brown paper packages really do tug on your heartstrings and you love sweaters and furry blankets and watching your little potted plants grow one new and shining leaf and you want to find your younger self and say, "yes, I am nostalgic for summers that bent like wheat and were buzzing with low energy and sleep." But, darling, adulthood gets better because the time condenses into a prayerbook of your own psalms, these tender beautiful memories. It gets better because things become prettier, gentler, kinder to you—somehow. Without you even noticing. You just get to the top of the hill and you realize, “oh, this is the thing I’ve been missing.”
—author unknown
Saw this button on an elevator today. The label above button 3 reads "press HARD to activate" which struck me as odd. Why not get the control panel serviced? Why post a label that makes the reader question the operability of the rest of the elevator? Maybe that is why the note to "press HARD" seemed so strange to me. It was both frightening and comical.