28 April 2013

Prom seems like a million years ago...

I saw a lot of high schoolers out this weekend on their way to prom.  And I saw even more photos on Facebook.  For me, that seems like a million years ago.  Even if it was only 6...or 7...or 8.  I was lucky (or maybe not so lucky) to go to prom three times.  My sophomore year was definitely an experience.  Let's just say the only good thing to come of it was that I helped my best friend find the love of her life.  I begged him to take to her so we could all hang out and they've been together ever since.  Oh, and we got lost on our way in the Astrovan.  It was definitely an adventure.

By my junior year I had a steady boyfriend.  And he was a senior.  That night at Wildlife Prairie Park was pretty great.

 Oh, to be young and in love, right?  
Surrounded by friends, we danced the night away and had a blast at After Prom.  I remember we had all made plans to go out to breakfast at 5:00 am when After Prom let out, but we were all too exhausted.

 My senior year I thought I had it all figured out.  I had the dress, the hair, and I was beyond excited for what I thought would be the night of my dreams.
All my best friends were there.  The prom was 1920s themed...and it was on a boat!  It couldn't get much better than that, right?
 And my boyfriend came home from college in Wisconsin to be my date.  We look pretty happy there -- so what could possibly go wrong, right?  Everything. 

My dream prom became a nightmare on the drive home when he said the dreaded words, “We need to talk.” I don’t really remember all the details of the conversation that followed, but I remember feeling like the walls of the car were closing in on me. As he said he couldn’t be with me anymore, I felt as if some one had just carved my heart out of my chest. I gasped for air between sobs, and he told me how horrible he felt. How horrible he felt? Just hours before, he had told me loved me. As quickly as our love came, it went away.

Gravel crunched as we pulled into my driveway, and both of us just sat there after he turned the engine off. In the deafening silence I realized it was really over. I grabbed my things out of the back seat and ran into my house. Throwing that perfect dress to the floor, I went to my parents’ bedroom. When they woke up and saw my tear-stained face, they knew immediately what had happened. I remember them telling me it would be okay and me yelling back that it wouldn't.

To me, it felt as if my life was over. I cried at home, and I even cried at school. My friends, however, were there for me during my darkest hours. They listened when I was ready to open up about the events that had transpired that not-so-perfect prom night. This was my first experience with heartbreak, and it helped me to see the importance of friendship and independence. When I was down my friends picked me up, and I became a stronger individual because I refused the let the situation control my life.

So for me prom is a bittersweet memory.  And every year around the end of April my heart twinges a little. Today though, I realized what happened to me was a blessing in disguise.  Because of that, I went to college unattached.  I was able to live a fuller life as an undergraduate and develop a fierce independence that helped to land me in graduate school.  Just because I didn't find my Prince Charming on prom night doesn't mean he isn't out there somewhere!  Wow, Grebner...that was beyond cheesy.  My bad, y'all!  

I hope you all have great memories of your own prom nights!

Much love,

13 March 2013

My Big Ten Tournament Confession

Can you feel it in the air?  March Madness is almost here!  Before I break out my white board bracket and start filling in teams I have a confession to make.  With the Big Ten tournament about to get underway on Thursday, I feel the need to come clean.  Over the past two years, I have become a serious Indiana Hoosier fan.  I mean, who could live in Bloomington, go to IU, and not bleed cream and crimson, right? So here goes...

Growing up, I was a Purdue fan.  And that's a cardinal sin in Hoosier Nation. 
This is my bulletin board in my bedroom.  There is still a Purdue Boilermakers poster tacked to it.  Right now.

  Granted, it's the women's team and it's from 1999 (wow, I feel old now) -- but that just shows how deep it went. And the sad thing is, there is more Purdue memorabilia in my childhood bedroom.  Basketballs, photos, you name it.   I've also crossed enemy lines and gone to Mackey Arena.   It was that 1999 Purdue women's basketball team that made me fall in love with the college game.  I was 10 years old and daydreaming about playing for them one day.  When I was shooting around on the driveway, I was pretending to be on their team.  I'm pretty sure I even wrote stories about it (yes, I have always been a nerd) in beat up notebooks in terrible elementary school handwriting.    I even went to West Lafayette for basketball camp one summer and stayed on campus.  Like any dreamer, I thought for sure I would grow up and get a basketball scholarship to Purdue (if only I'd been about 5 inches taller...).  Just this past year, I went to a WNBA game to see my favorite player -- a Boilermaker.  Sometimes as I sit in my apartment in Bloomington wearing an IU sweatshirt with Purdue basketball shorts, I have to laugh at what a walking contradiction I am when it comes to my loyalty.  And how funny life works out sometime.  But I wouldn't have it any other way!  While I might be a Hoosier now, the Boilermakers will always have a special place in my heart.  So if you ever see me out on a run in Bloomington in an old Boilermaker basketball shirt -- don't yell at me!

Now that I've aired that dirty laundry, it's time for the Hoosier to do work!  Let's get that 6th banner!

21 February 2013

Making Connections

So as the snow falls in Indiana and I sit here desperately wishing I could be on the road to Illinois as planned to celebrate my birthday (and let's be serious I'm eating peanut butter out of the jar to numb my disappointment), I thought that there was no better way to pass the time than to post a new blog entry about what's been on my mind as of late.

There's nothing I enjoy more than when I am able to make connections across all areas of my life.  Maybe it's my liberal arts education at work.  Or maybe my life just really isn't that interesting.  But anyway -- this week everything converged...on the Vietnam War.  Yep, the part of history that you never really get to in high school because you run out of time so all you really know about it is what your parents and grandparents have to say or you see on TV and movies.  I think I only had one course in undergrad where talked about Vietnam.  But this week it all came together -- specifically concerning one incident during the war:  the My Lai Massacre.

This week in my history course on American Identity I have been preparing a presentation on The My Lai Massacre in American Memory by Kendrick Oliver.  In his book about the mass murder of around 500 civilians, mostly women, children, and the elderly, in South Vietnam on 16 March 1968, the initial cover-up, and subsequent trial of Lt. William Calley, Oliver argues that narratives focusing on the "real" victims of the American war in Vietnam have been displaced in American popular memory in favor of those that highlight American experiences.  Because the news media played such a large role in the massacre, his book is as much about t he way media affects public opinion as it is about My Lai.  For me, one of the most fascinating aspects of history is the process of forgetting -- or how we choose to erase or rework things in a historical narrative.  In the case of My Lai...how do we understand or rework violence?  One way was to shift blame.  In an effort to contain culpability, the military placed the blame on just a few individuals -- the members of Charlie Company -- and more specifically Lt. Calley.  This attempt had the opposite reaction with the American public.  Instead, they blamed Calley's superiors as well as the U.S. government or even the war in general.  Calley became a martyr and a hero as he saluted when his verdict was handed down -- and his sentence was eventually commuted by President Nixon. 

So where is My Lai now?  How is it remembered?  The real victims have been displaced and the experiences of Americans are highlighted instead.  At the same time, we don't want to remember My Lai at all because it challenges our notion of American exceptionalism or moral virtue.  Instead, it finds a home in popular culture through movies and novels -- where we can, in a sense, rewrite the ending.  Or pretend that it's fiction.  Films like Oliver Stone's Platoon, demonstrate just how unprepared and ill-trained U.S. soldiers were while also discussing the issue of morality and the main character rescues a girl from rape by American soldiers instead of joining in like My Lai.  Tim O'Brien's novel In the Lake of the Woods, offers a different take.  A politician running for the state senate is revealed to have been apart of the My Lai Massacre.  The novel does invite empathy for John Wade, who was greatly damaged by the atrocity, but it does not ask for readers to forgive or pity him.  For O'Brien, there is no justice or redemption, no healing, transcendence, or closure.  But still -- there is no reflection on what the My Lai Massacre meant for the Vietnamese.

Recently, in my work in the Archives I have been processing Birch Bayh's Judiciary Committee records.  Months ago, I foldered some materials about a lieutenant named Calley who was court martialed.  I think the files just read "Calley Court Martial."  Once I started reading Oliver's book, I went back to these files.  From what I can glean from them -- Senator Bayh was interested in Calley's trial because he believed that the military was letting him take the fall for the massacre.  That's some pretty powerful stuff -- and it adds to what Oliver was arguing.  Not only did the public have empathy for Calley -- but some politicians did as well.  As a member of the Judiciary Committee, Bayh wanted to reform the Military Code of Justice to make sure that something like this would not happen to any other soldiers.  But again, the emphasis was on Calley -- not the victims in the village in Vietnam.

Seymour Hersh.  One of the greatest journalists of recent history.  Vietnam.  Watergate.  Abu Ghraib.  'nuff said.  

And then for the icing on the cake, I was sitting on Twitter yesterday when I noticed a tweet from IU about a lecture that the School of Journalism was putting on.  It was by Seymour Hersh -- the investigative journalist who broke the story of the My Lai Massacre.  How perfect is that?!  So even though I had way too much work to do, I decided that I couldn't pass up the chance to hear a Pulitzer Prize winner.  Hersh was incredible.  And incredibly candid as well.  He talked in length about how he got the information to break the My Lai story -- how he went to visit Calley's lawyer and read a file sitting on the attorney's desk upside down and copied it in his notebook without the lawyer knowing.  He admitted that by publishing his story, in part he wanted to end the war, but at the same time he wanted fame, fortune, and glory.  This raised a lot of questions for me about the ethics of journalism and the effects that the media has on constructs of identity.  Hersh's story shook the foundation of what it meant to be an American.  People started questioning whether we truly had the moral high ground and if the "savage" was in us too.  All because one guy in the Pentagon told Hersh a story and he followed up on it. 

So there it is -- three paths converging and consuming my thoughts.  It's a pretty depressing topic now that I think about it.  No wonder I'm eating peanut butter straight from the jar!

15 February 2013

Valentine's/Galentine's/Anna Howard Shaw

Historically, I've never been too big on Valentine's Day.  And I don't think it's one of those bitter "I don't have a boyfriend" kind of things either.  I've had plenty of February 14ths (though none in recent history) that involved chocolates and flowers.  My parents still get me a present -- I got pink Fiestaware this year.  Yes, be jealous -- I asked for dishes for Valentine's Day.  My grandparents' still send me a card.  I got a handful of surprise cards in the mail.  But despite all of this, Valentine's Day just confuses me.  I don't understand it.  Why do we need a day to tell and show each other that we love each other?  Shouldn't we do that all the time?  I'm not one to wear my heart on my sleeve, so chances are if I've told you that I love you, I truly meant it...but still.  

So here's what I think.  It's a day to celebrate friendships.  Leslie Knope said it best.

So today, after meeting up with some girlfriends and eating peanut butter cups and lollipops (of which I ate five) and being given one singular flower by an old man in bar, I am reminded of just how blessed I am to have such a good group of friends.  Strong, intelligent, independent women who enjoy looking at photos of French bulldogs in costumes, watching the West Wing, talking about history, and generally laughing till we cry.  I say this and mean it:  I love you all.  I can't believe our two years together is coming to an end so soon.

Valentine's Day is also a time to be a little ridiculous.

Hence, this Joe Biden valentine that I posted to Facebook this morning.  My love for him is just so strong that I couldn't contain myself!

And it's a time to celebrate the things we love.  For me, that's history.  And y'all know me so well.  I had multiple people send me this story from NPR this morning about LBJ's love letters to Lady Bird.  Be still my heart.  Last, but certainly not least, some of us refer to this day as Anna Howard Shaw Day, a day we use to substitute our hatred of Valentine's Day with a celebration of the women's suffrage leader, Anna Howard Shaw, who just happened to be born on 14 February.  So for me, Valentine's Day is a time to be thankful as well.  Thankful for a history full of incredible women who paved the way for me and the wonderful group of women I have found here in Bloomington to have the opportunity to follow our dreams.  After all, would I have crush on Joe Biden if I couldn't vote?

03 February 2013

Maybe I'll buy a pair of those candy-stripes afterall...

Have you ever had a day that you know you're going to tell your kids about someday?  I think I might have had one of those yesterday.  And as silly as it might sound, that day had everything to do with basketball.  You see, ESPN's College GameDay rolled into Bloomington to film their show -- and for a basketball nut like me this was a huge deal.  So when I found out that the taping was free and open to the public, I was all over it.  So I got up at 7:00 am on a Saturday, drank my coffee as fast as I could, ate Fig Newtons for breakfast, scraped 2 inches of snow off my car as it continued to fall, and drove to Assembly Hall.  And let me tell you, there's nothing quite like Assembly in the morning.  I am literally in love with this place.  It's like a cathedral for basketball.  But anyway -- after being patted down by security guards we made our way to the seats, receiving high fives from the cutest elderly employees in red sweater vests known to man.  It was at that moment that I knew this day was going to be pretty great.  

It was pretty awesome to see the process of how they shoot a show like College GameDay.  All of the equipment and the number of staff was insane.  Probably the best part was that we were sitting behind the hosts, so we could see what they see on their monitors.  I have to admit -- after sitting (well actually standing) through two live tapings, I have a ton of respect for what they do.  All of the transitions and segments have to be perfectly executed.  And they don't have a teleprompter like a news show -- it's all dialogue and conversation.  Talk about nerve-wracking!  To make things even more difficult they had thousands of screaming Hoosier fans behind them.

 And yeah, it was pretty cool to see the commentators live and in person.  I mean I grew up listening to them.  And it was nice to see Jay Bilas sporting the candy-stripes.  That earned him a point in my book.  
And Rece Davis rocking the striped jacket as well.  Classy.
 This was the scene as taping began.  I'm somewhere to the right of the frame of this shot.  It was unreal.
I'm so glad that I have a friend who shares the same love for IU basketball.  When we made our plans to arrive at Assembly Hall two hours before the taping began, we jokingly texted each other that we were insane.  Hoosier Hysteria has definitely taken over for me.  Not that this had any factor in my grad school choice at all (insert sarcasm here), but it's pretty awesome to go to school at the university with one of the most historic basketball programs in the nation...and for us to hopefully be the new #1 when the polls come out tomorrow since we knocked off Michigan last night in one of the best games of college basketball I have ever watched.  Granted, I was in my apartment...but still.  It's going to be an exciting journey to the NCAA tournament in March.  Maybe I'll have to buy a pair of those candy-stripes after all...

22 January 2013

Hope's Inauguration Hangover

No alcohol needed -- this lethargy has been brought on by too much pure political pageantry.  And I loved every minute of it!  I think I watched close to 12 hours of C-SPAN yesterday.  While having a job where I have a TV in my office just for C-SPAN is one of my (not so) secret dreams, I will admit that I might have gone a little overboard.  Which makes heading back into work today all the more difficult.  But on my breaks, y'all know I'll be glued to Politico or The Hill to see what's happening.  In the mean time, can I just say that 1) Michelle's dress was stunning and 2) I have a serious couple crush on the Obamas.
They know how to have fun!

I'm sad to see the election season come to an end.  Yeah, I said it.  But, I'm excited to see what the next four years has in store for us.  Hopefully, our leaders in Washington can put aside their partisan differences and start to reach across the aisle to accomplish something.  A girl can dream, right?  Oh, and I can't forget -- Hillary 2016!!!

21 January 2013

Inauguration Day Should Be a Holiday

Was there anything else to do today other than watch the Inauguration?  Not for me.  Just like four years ago, I was glued to the TV screen.    Just like four years ago, I had goosebumps.  Just like four years ago, I was crying tears of joy.  And just life four years ago, I was so proud to have exercised my right to vote and to help elect the President of the United States of America.

His speech writers literally knocked it out of the park.  Who wrote this thing?  Sam Seeborn and Toby Ziegler from the West Wing?  I've always been a fan of his oratorical style, but this speech had some seriously great quotes.  Especially, this one:
"We, the people, declare today that the most evident of truths –- that all of us are created equal –- is the star that guides us still; just as it guided our forebears through Seneca Falls, and Selma, and Stonewall"
With that one line "Seneca Falls, and Selma, and Stonewall," Obama linked civil rights with women's rights and gay rights.  Wow.  Not only is it a great alliteration, it is an enormous step forward.  His speech had some of the most inclusive language that I've ever heard from a president.  And what makes it better is that I truly feel that his words are more than rhetoric for him.  That he truly believes what he is saying.  His speech really drew on our unique identity as Americans.  Our national identity is not one that is based on religion, race, or ethnicity.  It is based on a set of ideals that came from the founders of our country -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  I especially liked the generational theme he had going.  The founding fathers were one generation.  And we are another, still striving to achieve the goals they had for our country.  So in the words of President Obama, "With common effort and common purpose, with passion and dedication, let us answer the call of history and carry into an uncertain future that precious light of freedom."

Okay, I'll admit it.  I'm a politics addict.  And that's why I literally watched C-SPAN from 11:30 am this morning.  I'm also a sucker for a good parade.  Can you imagine being in one of those high school marching bands?  Wow.  That would probably be too overwhelming for me!  I'm also a sucker for Joe Biden.  His smile just melts me.  And the Obamas might be the most adorable First Family ever.
 Exhibit A.

I'm sure I'll be back tomorrow with my thoughts on the Inaugural balls.  We all know that FLOTUS is gonna steal the show!

20 January 2013

Like It Was Yesterday...

So I've been watching the TV show Friday Night Lights on Netflix.  Okay, so watching is an understatement.  More like addicted to the story of a high school football team from a small town in Texas.  Part of my love for this show stems from the fact that I think Kyle Chandler is beautiful...but that's besides the point.  Part of it is in its portrayal of middle-America.  The characters are true to life.  Their stories are relatable.  Part of it is probably the fact that my high school was too small to have football, so I find the culture fascinating and so very different.  But part of my love for this show is in the fact that it is the same as when I played sports in high school.  I think I cry at some point in every episode.  Every motivational speech from Coach Taylor.  Every desperation play.  Sports shows and movies get me.  They cut me to the core.  I miss playing sports everyday of my life.  When you're in high school, your coaches tell you that this is the best time of your life.  At the time, you shrug it off.  You don't believe them.  Or if you do, you don't want to.  But this weekend -- especially this weekend since it's Homecoming in my little Illinois basketball town -- I miss it.  I remember it all like it was yesterday.
It's been 6 years to the day...and I still remember every second of that game.  It might be silly, but I still consider scoring my 1000th career point one of my proudest achievements.  And what made it even better was that I got to share it with a teammate who scored her 1000th just one game before me -- that just doesn't happen.  While she got to celebrate hers at home in front the hometown crowd, mine came on the road.  It was a Saturday afternoon at Bloomington Central Catholic.  Our hated rival who always seemed to get the best of us.  So scoring my 1000th point in their gym and taking the ball from their court made it even sweeter.  I had been stressing about eclipsing the mark all season.  It had gotten to my head and affected my play.  It was almost like a curse.  But with a baseline jumper in the first quarter the curse was broken.  On a day like that, you remember it all.  The sound the ball on the hardwood, the swish of the net, the cheers of the crowd.  The congratulatory high five from your coach as you run down the court.  The smile you couldn't wipe off your face.  The PA announcer.  The athletic director handing you that ball as you walked out of the locker room.  The joy that no one could take away from you.

Watching Friday Night Lights (and probably my history class on American Identity) has reminded me just how much playing basketball in a small town has shaped my identity.  It helped make me who I am...and it will always be a part of me. I remember it like it was yesterday -- and I miss it everyday.

14 January 2013

Somehow I Found Time for a Movie Monday

Last week marked my last first day of the spring semester.  It's a crazy feeling.  After 19 years of school, it's all going to come to an end.  And as much as I might complain about how brutal graduate school is and how much I loathe it, we all know I'm going to miss school.  It's the only thing I've ever known.  This semester, however, has the potential to be more brutal than any other.  Nothing like going out with a bang, right?  So with that in mind, let me warn you that my blog posts from now until April will probably be few and far between (who am I kidding?  I'll probably be procrastinating like there's no tomorrow).

Okay, Grebner...get to the movie already.  So this weekend, I hit up the local Redbox in the pouring rain to grab this indie film about a college admissions counselor living in NYC who is still head over heels in love with his undergraduate liberal arts institution in Ohio.  I'll be honest, part of the reason I wanted to see it was the fact that Josh Radnor plays the main character and I love him on How I Met Your Mother.  His character in this film is very similar...and similarly, I found him to be very much like myself. 

At a time when I am questioning what on earth I am doing with my life, wondering if it's all worth it, and struggling to get by this movie helped me to realize that it's all okay.  All of it.  Everything.  I shouldn't wish this time away.  I mean, when else will I have the opportunity to sit around reading books and articles all day and talking to people about them?  It's not too bad of a life.  Even if I do still hate talking in class.  This movie helped me to remember what I loved about being an undergraduate.  And it's that love that spurred me on to continue my studies.  So when times get rough -- and Lord knows they will this semester -- I need to reflect on those things. 

When I slipped this DVD into my computer Saturday night, I was feeling alone.  Homesick.  Like no one understood what I was going through.  2 hours later, I realized I wasn't alone. I love it when movies speak to what you're going through in life.   And appearances by Allison Janney don't hurt either!