When I said that I wanted to buy a house in Bay Area as quickly as we did in San Diego 7 years ago (we bought a house within a week of arriving in San Diego from Bosto), Michael pointed out that Bay Area was so much more diverse in terms of neighborhoods that we ought to get used to the area first before considering buying. As a result, we rented a house not too far from my office. Since then I have had to battle with the landlord on fixing the low water pressure, the holes in a screen door, as well as ancient washer and dryer. I am now more determined than ever to buy a house within a year, as opposed to keep renting.
Even though this house is only for a year, I still have set aside one room as the nursery for the yet-to-be-born baby. By now I have got a ton of baby stuff, ranging from extremely practical (car seat and stroller) to simply cute (decorations for the nursery). Michael and I have attended a child-birth class, which was full of these “breathing techniques” that I doubt could really work. I have also read quite a few of these books on pregnancy and childbirth. I feel that I have been immersed in “baby talk” for months by now. What I find most challenging is to address enthusiastic questions such as “aren’t you excited?”
Honestly, with very few exceptions, I have not exactly envied the lives of those with kids - as far as I could observe, many people's lives turned worse in more ways than one, in addition to looking more tired, less interested, older and uglier (due to lack of time/interest to pay attention to one's appearance). And I do not have great reason to believe that I would fall into those “exceptions” after the birth of my son. What if I also lose interest in a lot of things, and would rather veg every chance I get? What if my son is difficult, sick or simply fussy? What if I end up talking non-stop about the kid and nothing else? What if I end up a much less interesting and interested person?
Like many things in life, I suppose that one just has to make the plunge, if you do not have a crystal ball to enable you to know everything in advance. Of course I have yet to see anyone regret having kids, so I am positive that even if I turn out to be my worst nightmare because of the kid, I will think then that it’s for the better – that is, I cannot predict how I am going to feel in the future after such a life-changing event. But that remains a somewhat depressing thought – that is, I could end up losing interest, ability or passion for things that have defined me so far.
In chatting with a friend who has two kids, I mentioned my “pregnancy blues”. She said something that made a lot of sense to me. She said, “ babies/kids are inherently positive creatures, because there is nothing negative about them. Watching them grow and laugh itself makes you feel really positive in a visceral way. In professional settings, no matter where you are, you are sure to encounter a lot of things that are inherently negative. Without a strong natural positive force like your own kids, it is quite easy to be affected by these negative things, and it is very easy to lose perspectives, which are actually quite important for a thriving career. One can get really tunnel-visioned, if there is not an irrepressible positive force to balance out the negatives one encounters professionally.” That does make perfect sense – we all have encountered moments to feel tremendously buoyed by uplifting music, image or stories. I suppose nothing can be even more uplifting than seeing your own baby so innocent, so positive and so pure in front of you, demonstrating a force of life that simply cannot be denied. It makes you feel “life” in the most vivid and profound way.
Besides, I am curious to see what he is like. I hope that the name we are giving him turns out to be appropriate for him…
Friday, May 29, 2009
All About My Mother
Pedro Almodovar is one of my favorite directors. Almost without exceptions, his movies showcase strong, vivacious and interesting leading female characters overcoming hardships and challenges frequently caused by the weak, irresponsible and somewhat shabby male characters in their lives. I do wonder what the Spanish men think of his movies…
Of his movies, “All About My Mother” is not necessarily the best, but the title has led me to ponder the possibility of writing about my own mother one of these days. In fact, I think everyone should enter into a writing contest under this title. A great ensemble feature film can be made out of the best stories. After all, don’t we all have very interesting mothers?
My mother just arrived two weeks ago in Bay Area from Beijing to help me with the upcoming arrival of this baby boy. Since the baby has not come out, for the past two weeks, my mom has taken up all housework. She’s someone who absolutely hates being idle more than anything else. Since she does not drive and does not speak English, it is quite a challenge for me to find enough activities to engage her.
Fortunately, the rental house I have is close to a lot of shops, including an Asian super market, where my mom likes to buy fresh groceries on her own. She gets up early in the morning and exercises in the backyard. She brought a set of exercise tools from Beijing – a performance sword and some gadgets that look like that they belong to a magic show or an acrobatics show. Michael was highly amused to see my mom perform in the back yard. I must say that I am just glad that our back yard is not exposed to the street! Since she’s a pretty good cook, I have had people over for dinner a few times. About every two days she will spend a few hours cooking a feast. In fact, the day after she arrived from Beijing, we had 3 people over for dinner, and my mom spent half of a day cooking, whereas my guests felt that it was a bit too demanding. She loves talking so much – I thought I liked talking, but compared to my mom, I am actually quite reticent! When we went over to a friend’s place, she talked practically the whole time, and I was exhausted just listening!
Just within the past two weeks, I have taken her to many different famous hiking trails around the peninsula, and we would walk for an hour or two at a time. In a way, because of her, I have become more physically active as well. I also have a need to discover new scenic places and new hiking trails. During the hike, she would comment on the flora and the fauna around, tell me about her friends or our relatives’ latest news, make observations on people walking by, etc. She loves the scenery around San Andreas Lake as well as Crystal Springs Reservoir, and she thoroughly enjoyed visiting Half Moon Bay. By comparison, she was not so impressed by downtown San Francisco (“as a city, it’s not as impressive as New York”), or Berkeley (“it’s an okay campus but not as beautiful as Princeton”).
With Michael being so busy starting his faculty job, I am the one that she talks to the most on a daily basis. I asked my cousin and another friend to call my mom periodically to chat, as in the daytime she could occasionally find herself with nothing to do except for watching TV or reading novels. When I thanked my cousin for calling my mom up, I told him how much my mom loved talking and how she could not stop talking. His wry response was, “like mother, like daughter.”
Indeed, as I get older, I am beginning to realize how much I am like my mother, even though both my mother and I have always believed that we are very different. I guess I should credit her for my strengths, and I can also blame her for my weaknesses! Like her, I cannot stand boredom, although we find different things interesting. Like her, I am irreverent and even a bit rebellious towards authority or convention, although she claims correctly that she’s paid a lot more attention to manners than before. Like her, I can be impatient and quick-tempered, although she’s become much more patient in her old age. Like her, I am overall disciplined and pragmatic, although I am still probably still more sentimental than she is. Like her, I care passionately about people I love, perhaps to the point of annoying them. Like her, my strong will has led me to accomplish things that are considered challenging, but has also caused me some unnecessary troubles. Like her, my eagerness to help/change people I love has sometimes led to resistance or even resentment - in some cases, I eventually have been proven right, but in others, it has become a completely lost cause.
Knowing “All About My Mother”, I think to myself, do I mind turning out to be more like her in the future, now that I will become a mother myself shortly?
Of his movies, “All About My Mother” is not necessarily the best, but the title has led me to ponder the possibility of writing about my own mother one of these days. In fact, I think everyone should enter into a writing contest under this title. A great ensemble feature film can be made out of the best stories. After all, don’t we all have very interesting mothers?
My mother just arrived two weeks ago in Bay Area from Beijing to help me with the upcoming arrival of this baby boy. Since the baby has not come out, for the past two weeks, my mom has taken up all housework. She’s someone who absolutely hates being idle more than anything else. Since she does not drive and does not speak English, it is quite a challenge for me to find enough activities to engage her.
Fortunately, the rental house I have is close to a lot of shops, including an Asian super market, where my mom likes to buy fresh groceries on her own. She gets up early in the morning and exercises in the backyard. She brought a set of exercise tools from Beijing – a performance sword and some gadgets that look like that they belong to a magic show or an acrobatics show. Michael was highly amused to see my mom perform in the back yard. I must say that I am just glad that our back yard is not exposed to the street! Since she’s a pretty good cook, I have had people over for dinner a few times. About every two days she will spend a few hours cooking a feast. In fact, the day after she arrived from Beijing, we had 3 people over for dinner, and my mom spent half of a day cooking, whereas my guests felt that it was a bit too demanding. She loves talking so much – I thought I liked talking, but compared to my mom, I am actually quite reticent! When we went over to a friend’s place, she talked practically the whole time, and I was exhausted just listening!
Just within the past two weeks, I have taken her to many different famous hiking trails around the peninsula, and we would walk for an hour or two at a time. In a way, because of her, I have become more physically active as well. I also have a need to discover new scenic places and new hiking trails. During the hike, she would comment on the flora and the fauna around, tell me about her friends or our relatives’ latest news, make observations on people walking by, etc. She loves the scenery around San Andreas Lake as well as Crystal Springs Reservoir, and she thoroughly enjoyed visiting Half Moon Bay. By comparison, she was not so impressed by downtown San Francisco (“as a city, it’s not as impressive as New York”), or Berkeley (“it’s an okay campus but not as beautiful as Princeton”).
With Michael being so busy starting his faculty job, I am the one that she talks to the most on a daily basis. I asked my cousin and another friend to call my mom periodically to chat, as in the daytime she could occasionally find herself with nothing to do except for watching TV or reading novels. When I thanked my cousin for calling my mom up, I told him how much my mom loved talking and how she could not stop talking. His wry response was, “like mother, like daughter.”
Indeed, as I get older, I am beginning to realize how much I am like my mother, even though both my mother and I have always believed that we are very different. I guess I should credit her for my strengths, and I can also blame her for my weaknesses! Like her, I cannot stand boredom, although we find different things interesting. Like her, I am irreverent and even a bit rebellious towards authority or convention, although she claims correctly that she’s paid a lot more attention to manners than before. Like her, I can be impatient and quick-tempered, although she’s become much more patient in her old age. Like her, I am overall disciplined and pragmatic, although I am still probably still more sentimental than she is. Like her, I care passionately about people I love, perhaps to the point of annoying them. Like her, my strong will has led me to accomplish things that are considered challenging, but has also caused me some unnecessary troubles. Like her, my eagerness to help/change people I love has sometimes led to resistance or even resentment - in some cases, I eventually have been proven right, but in others, it has become a completely lost cause.
Knowing “All About My Mother”, I think to myself, do I mind turning out to be more like her in the future, now that I will become a mother myself shortly?
I Now Have Cable TV!
Many people did not believe it, but I have never had cable TV at home. Michael is a fanatical opponent of the cable TV industry, claiming that it is a complete waste of time as it makes you glued to the TV watching programs or movies that you otherwise would not watch if you had no cable TV. As a result, for years we would go see movies of our choosing in the theater or rent from video stores on a weekly basis.
Now that we just moved into a rental house in Bay Area from San Diego, and I will be in my confinement (euphemistically) for a few months due to the baby, I decided that I would get cable TV for a few months to see if my brain really will turn into a big marshmellow.
It has only been a few days since the cable TV was installed. It is true that I would never sit down in the family room to watch TV if there is anything better or more useful to do, but I do turn it on at night in the bedroom before I go to sleep. I can definitely see Michael’s point of view, as it takes a while just to find anything worth watching, and even then it is probably something not really worth watching. The convenient access to that program or movie is the major factor for watching it. Because of the commercials, I find myself (like others) flipping through channels, which means that I rarely watch any movie that I have not seen before – as I otherwise will not be able to follow the plot. I also find myself less inclined to do some reading in bed at night like I previously would do – so cable TV has made me lazier, and dumber perhaps. But I have a good excuse - now that I am so much heavier and less mobile, I am less energetic, mentally and physically than before. I now weigh 145 pounds, which according to my height is fairly normal for someone about to give birth, but considering that it’s a 45% weight increase, I am amazed that my legs could even support myself! I still occasionally wake up in the morning, forgetting how much heavier I am now, only to discover to my surprise that I can’t easily jump out of bed as light as a bird!
The other day, “Four Weddings and A Funeral” was on one of those channels. It was so long ago that I saw it that I forgot most of it. What caught my attention this time was the poem by W.H. Auden read at the funeral – “Funeral Blues”. Clearly the first time I watched the movie, which must have been 15 years ago (i.e. not too long after I arrived in the US), my English was not good enough for me to appreciate the poem. It is so beautiful and powerful:
“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good.”
While Michael insists that cable TV leaves people’s brains “fried” and "unchallenged" and I do endorse his view, I am happy that the accidental glimpse of this British comedy starring the effeminate and annoying Hugh Grant has led me to read a little about W. H. Auden, and also this beautiful elegy. – So having cable is not all bad…
Now that we just moved into a rental house in Bay Area from San Diego, and I will be in my confinement (euphemistically) for a few months due to the baby, I decided that I would get cable TV for a few months to see if my brain really will turn into a big marshmellow.
It has only been a few days since the cable TV was installed. It is true that I would never sit down in the family room to watch TV if there is anything better or more useful to do, but I do turn it on at night in the bedroom before I go to sleep. I can definitely see Michael’s point of view, as it takes a while just to find anything worth watching, and even then it is probably something not really worth watching. The convenient access to that program or movie is the major factor for watching it. Because of the commercials, I find myself (like others) flipping through channels, which means that I rarely watch any movie that I have not seen before – as I otherwise will not be able to follow the plot. I also find myself less inclined to do some reading in bed at night like I previously would do – so cable TV has made me lazier, and dumber perhaps. But I have a good excuse - now that I am so much heavier and less mobile, I am less energetic, mentally and physically than before. I now weigh 145 pounds, which according to my height is fairly normal for someone about to give birth, but considering that it’s a 45% weight increase, I am amazed that my legs could even support myself! I still occasionally wake up in the morning, forgetting how much heavier I am now, only to discover to my surprise that I can’t easily jump out of bed as light as a bird!
The other day, “Four Weddings and A Funeral” was on one of those channels. It was so long ago that I saw it that I forgot most of it. What caught my attention this time was the poem by W.H. Auden read at the funeral – “Funeral Blues”. Clearly the first time I watched the movie, which must have been 15 years ago (i.e. not too long after I arrived in the US), my English was not good enough for me to appreciate the poem. It is so beautiful and powerful:
“Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good.”
While Michael insists that cable TV leaves people’s brains “fried” and "unchallenged" and I do endorse his view, I am happy that the accidental glimpse of this British comedy starring the effeminate and annoying Hugh Grant has led me to read a little about W. H. Auden, and also this beautiful elegy. – So having cable is not all bad…
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Australia - a trip from over 3 years ago
In adjusting to the move to the Bay Area, one thing I discovered was that I could no longer maintain my old internet service provider, which means that I have to terminate my personal sbcglobal.net email account. As I have been looking through the emails in this account, and cleaning up, I found one e-mail I wrote about the trip Michael and I took to Australia in December 2005. And I was thinking - ah, if only I had a blog then. So here is the report on our trip to Australia...
==========
Before I left for Australia, I was told that "I seemed to work only to finance my travels around the world." I now have an eloquent answer to that - "a man's feet should be planted in his country, but his eyes should survey the world." I assume that Santayana would not mind to include women as well. Besides, in order to "survey the world", one has to go there!
Australia was indeed exciting, but it was neither foreign nor exotic. I found myself constantly comparing Australia to the United States, Canada or Britain, for it does resemble these countries in various aspects. Sometimes I even had a sense of deja vu. Sydney is a clean, beautiful and modern city. One can take a ferry from the downtown area (circular quay) to different parts of Sydney, such as Manly Beach, Watsons Bay, Rose Bay, etc, all of which offer breathtaking views of beaches or cliffs. While there are plenty of modern skyscrapers in the city center, the more suburban area looks like England with red brick houses and well-groomed and luscious gardens. Royal Botanical Garden in Sydney is one of the many gardens/public parks in Sydney. Unlike Central Park in New York, which is truly a green oasis in an otherwise concrete city, the gardens in Sydney are naturally spread throughout the city, and there is nothing artificial about them. With 4 million people living in Sydney, it feels like a quiet city overall, and a rather homogenous one in terms of demographics. I did not see any blacks or hispanics (even including tourists!) for the first day or two. The Chinese make up the biggest miniority (5%) in Sydney, followed by Arabs at 4%. Besides Sydney Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, there are a lot of second-tier tourist attractions in Sydney, including The Rocks (the historic part of Sydney - but it is not that historic), the aquarium (they have some unique Australian sea creatures such as the platypus but otherwise it's not that unique), the cathedrals/churches (if one has seen some in France and Italy, there's probably no compelling reason to visit the ones in Sydney), and Art Gallery of New South Wales (arguably the best art gallery in Sydney, but nothing compared to the Met, the MFA or Musee d'Orsay). At the Art Gallery, there were lots of kids in school uniforms on field trips. Most school kids in Sydney wear uniforms, which I think is a good idea. It alleviates unnecessary peer pressure. I have to say that I do wonder about the wisdom of exposing kids to some of these incomprehensible modern art exhibitions (e.g. pictures of rather grotesque-looking naked people looking as if they were engaged in some sado-masochist acts). When I heard a kid saying "I like that one", I turned around to see him pointing to an oil painting titled "Faust's First Sight of Marguerite". I don't think the teacher bothered to explain the painting though!
Before I left for Australia, I was told that "I seemed to work only to finance my travels around the world." I now have an eloquent answer to that - "a man's feet should be planted in his country, but his eyes should survey the world." I assume that Santayana would not mind to include women as well. Besides, in order to "survey the world", one has to go there!
Australia was indeed exciting, but it was neither foreign nor exotic. I found myself constantly comparing Australia to the United States, Canada or Britain, for it does resemble these countries in various aspects. Sometimes I even had a sense of deja vu. Sydney is a clean, beautiful and modern city. One can take a ferry from the downtown area (circular quay) to different parts of Sydney, such as Manly Beach, Watsons Bay, Rose Bay, etc, all of which offer breathtaking views of beaches or cliffs. While there are plenty of modern skyscrapers in the city center, the more suburban area looks like England with red brick houses and well-groomed and luscious gardens. Royal Botanical Garden in Sydney is one of the many gardens/public parks in Sydney. Unlike Central Park in New York, which is truly a green oasis in an otherwise concrete city, the gardens in Sydney are naturally spread throughout the city, and there is nothing artificial about them. With 4 million people living in Sydney, it feels like a quiet city overall, and a rather homogenous one in terms of demographics. I did not see any blacks or hispanics (even including tourists!) for the first day or two. The Chinese make up the biggest miniority (5%) in Sydney, followed by Arabs at 4%. Besides Sydney Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, there are a lot of second-tier tourist attractions in Sydney, including The Rocks (the historic part of Sydney - but it is not that historic), the aquarium (they have some unique Australian sea creatures such as the platypus but otherwise it's not that unique), the cathedrals/churches (if one has seen some in France and Italy, there's probably no compelling reason to visit the ones in Sydney), and Art Gallery of New South Wales (arguably the best art gallery in Sydney, but nothing compared to the Met, the MFA or Musee d'Orsay). At the Art Gallery, there were lots of kids in school uniforms on field trips. Most school kids in Sydney wear uniforms, which I think is a good idea. It alleviates unnecessary peer pressure. I have to say that I do wonder about the wisdom of exposing kids to some of these incomprehensible modern art exhibitions (e.g. pictures of rather grotesque-looking naked people looking as if they were engaged in some sado-masochist acts). When I heard a kid saying "I like that one", I turned around to see him pointing to an oil painting titled "Faust's First Sight of Marguerite". I don't think the teacher bothered to explain the painting though!
I have heard people describing Sydney as a more urban and sophisticated San Diego or a cleaner and more beautiful Los Angeles, and Melbourne as an Australian version of San Francisco. Melbourne is older, colder, wetter, and considered more cultured than Sydney. Ironically, our days in Melbourne were both sunny, and it was in Sydney that we had to endure a few thunderstorms. But I do see why people compare Melbourne to San Francisco - it even has the same trolleys! While the Sydney population is predominantly Protestant, Melbourne has a large Irish Catholic population. The Melbourne Zoo is supposedly the oldest zoo in the world, and I must say that even the animals looked ancient!:)They were all sleeping when we visited! Queen Victoria Market was a lot of fun, where one can get fresh produce as well as cheap lunches. Overall, the food scene in Australia is not so impressive, as there is not really an Australian cuisine. - I had kangaroo and wallaby in some restaurants, and they tasted just like beef. But there are a lot of cafes everywhere, and they all serve great coffee. Cafes are for people to relax and chat, and Australia is a perfect country to do so. The shops all close very early every day. Since it was late November, a lot of stores have put up Christmas decorations. Instead of "Happy Holidays" greetings, I saw "Merry Christmas" everywhere. I see that they are not so much into political correctness in Australia.
The best part of the trip to Melbourne was driving down the Great Ocean Road, which offers truly spectacular views of the ocean and the countryside going south of Melbourne. With the endless rolling green hills dotted with white sheep on one side, and the aqua blue ocean on the other, it was a memorable drive. These rock formations by the cliffs were very impressive, and they formed caves and generated waves of enormous magnitude. Michael did all the driving, as I am not even a great driver driving on the right side of the road. While we did not make any mistakes, we were rear-ended by two reckless teenage boys in a small town driving a really ancient car. These boys were friendly but irresponsible. The driver said that he had to get somewhere so he drove off, leaving the passenger boy waiting with us for the police. When we asked him for the driver's phone number, he said that he did not know, for "he was just a mate." - Michael felt like asking for a translation, but decided not to in the end.
Australia is famous for its white sand beaches, and most tourists go to the Gold Coast area around Brisbane, where there are lots of hotels and casinos and therefore lots of people. Our friend Tony and his wife Helen rented a condo in Kiama for the weekend, which is two hours south of Sydney. Our windows had a terrrific view of the seven-mile long white sand beach. When we drove into Kiama, it was already pretty late at night. It was a clear night, and I remember marvelling at the sky. It was truly the first time when I felt that the sky was literally raining stars! And there were so many of them glittering in the sky. They felt so close that one could almost reach out and touch them. An astronomer himself, Tony pointed out the Southern Cross to us, which can only be seen in the Southern Hemisphere. It is really hard for me to describe the sensation of seeing such a clear night sky with stars raining down. When one looks up to a sky like that, one could not help wondering if heaven were within one's reach. We saw kangaroos and wallabies hopping around in the forest, and some really strange animals. The water was not as warm as Hawaii or Puerto Rico though. While others went swimming, I read "Remains of the Day" on the beach. At Blue Mountains National Park, while the hikes at times were strenuous, it was overall very relaxing and quiet. In fact, there were so few people around that we once got lost on the way back up the mountain. At one spot called "the pulpit rock", one could get a 280 degree view of uninterrupted cliffs. It was a gorgeous view. We stayed at a beautiful Victorian B&B in a small town near Blue Mountains. In the sitting room, they have a lot of DVDs. So we watched "In the name of the rose" based on Umberto Eco's novel, which was kind of freaky. I can see that it must have had some influence on Dan Brown's "Da Vinci Code".
I loved the trip, but when asked whether I wanted to live in Australia or not, the answer from me was an adamant no. It is a huge country, but it feels very isolated from the rest of the world. If you turn on the news, you will see that the top stories are about some Australian traveler got caught trafficking drugs in Singapore, or some elderly woman barely escaping from a fire. The top federal tax rate of 49% applies to an annual income of A$125,000 and above, which really is not much considering that things are not any cheaper than in the US. It is an extremely family friendly country, and there are huge tax incentives for families with kids.
We did not have time to go to the aboriginal country, and I have never been a fan of the desert anyways. I was thinking about how to describe the Australia I saw. Fortunately, there is a poem about Australia that has done exactly that - Dorothea McKellar so accurately portrays the Australia in my memory.
=============================
My Country
by Dorothea McKellar
a poem about Australia
The love of field and coppice,
Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
Is running in your veins.
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
Brown streams and soft, dim skies -
I know but cannot share it,
My love is otherwise.
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
I love her far horizons,
I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror -
The wide brown land for me!
The stark white ring-barked forests,
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon,
Green tangle of the brushes
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops,
And ferns the warm dark soil.
Core of my heart, my country!
Her pitiless blue sky,
When, sick at heart, around us
We see the cattle die -
But then the grey clouds gather,
And we can bless again
The drumming of an army,
The steady soaking rain.
Core of my heart, my country!
Land of the rainbow gold,
For flood and fire and famine
She pays us back threefold.
Over the thirsty paddocks,
Watch, after many days,
The filmy veil of greenness
That thickens as we gaze.
An opal-hearted country,
A wilful, lavish land -
All you who have not loved her,
You will not understand -
Though earth holds many splendours,
Wherever I may die,
I know to what brown country
My homing thoughts will fly.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Academic & Commercial Mingle at Stanford
Now that Michael is starting a faculty position at Stanford, I have joined him on some Stanford events, which have interestingly brought back some Harvard memories. Stanford is often described as the Harvard of the west coast, although I am sure that die-hard Stanford fans would not like that description. There are definitely some parallels and similarities.
I still cannot claim to know many people at Stanford. However, the few I have met made me think that almost every faculty member at Stanford has started a company, is involved in a startup company, or is about to start a company. It seems that the Silicon Valley mentality has permeated through the campus. As a result, they are often very well connected to not only other academics, but also startup entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, foundations, and sometimes even elite law firms. To most of the academics, it is not difficult to understand and appreciate what is going on in the corporate world, or even what are the usual challenges facing startup companies. Over dinner, the faculty members could cover topics all the way from some latest discoveries in very basic research (which I can hardly understand), to the strategic and operational issues at companies they started (which I understand well).
The past two days were the Canary Foundation event at Stanford. Canary Foundation (www.canaryfoundation.org) was founded by a former Silicon Valley executive Don Listwin, who has made many millions from his Cisco days as well as other business pursuits. The two-day symposium event brought all the people involved in this foundation, as well as those funded by this foundation. The reception/dinner of the first day was held at the beautiful Ford Garden of the Stanford Alumni Center. The second day was much better – it was held in the garden of Don Listwin’s home in Woodside, which with soaring redwood trees, luscious lawns, elegant fountains, and blossoming azaleas can perhaps easily host a few hundred guests. While I am sure that it is the result of serious gardening and landscaping effort, it gives one the impression that it is a house set in beautiful natural scenery, without any artificial interference. The scientific posters were leaned against the redwood trees, and people walked around with wine glasses in hand, asking questions about these posters. It was absolutely classy. I loved it.
Don Listwin was teary-eyed when he gave out the awards. I am glad to see that he cares so much about the mission. It will be good if more people who have made many millions could be like him, devoting energy, time and resources to some important initiatives that are underfunded. Harold Varmus came, as well as many other famous scientists in the cancer field.
I guess what strikes me most about the Bay Area is the close connection between the academic world and the commercial world. The academics are very keen in getting exposed to the commercial side, so that they can get their discoveries or technologies commercialized. The business people are very interested in the latest breakthroughs from the labs, not only as possible starting points of companies when they are active in the corporate world, but also as a focus of their charitable effort when they have decided to retire from the corporate world. It is an enlivening and exciting milieu that would never leave you bored.
Perhaps there is a good reason for such outrageously inflated real estate prices in the Bay Area…
I still cannot claim to know many people at Stanford. However, the few I have met made me think that almost every faculty member at Stanford has started a company, is involved in a startup company, or is about to start a company. It seems that the Silicon Valley mentality has permeated through the campus. As a result, they are often very well connected to not only other academics, but also startup entrepreneurs, venture capitalists, foundations, and sometimes even elite law firms. To most of the academics, it is not difficult to understand and appreciate what is going on in the corporate world, or even what are the usual challenges facing startup companies. Over dinner, the faculty members could cover topics all the way from some latest discoveries in very basic research (which I can hardly understand), to the strategic and operational issues at companies they started (which I understand well).
The past two days were the Canary Foundation event at Stanford. Canary Foundation (www.canaryfoundation.org) was founded by a former Silicon Valley executive Don Listwin, who has made many millions from his Cisco days as well as other business pursuits. The two-day symposium event brought all the people involved in this foundation, as well as those funded by this foundation. The reception/dinner of the first day was held at the beautiful Ford Garden of the Stanford Alumni Center. The second day was much better – it was held in the garden of Don Listwin’s home in Woodside, which with soaring redwood trees, luscious lawns, elegant fountains, and blossoming azaleas can perhaps easily host a few hundred guests. While I am sure that it is the result of serious gardening and landscaping effort, it gives one the impression that it is a house set in beautiful natural scenery, without any artificial interference. The scientific posters were leaned against the redwood trees, and people walked around with wine glasses in hand, asking questions about these posters. It was absolutely classy. I loved it.
Don Listwin was teary-eyed when he gave out the awards. I am glad to see that he cares so much about the mission. It will be good if more people who have made many millions could be like him, devoting energy, time and resources to some important initiatives that are underfunded. Harold Varmus came, as well as many other famous scientists in the cancer field.
I guess what strikes me most about the Bay Area is the close connection between the academic world and the commercial world. The academics are very keen in getting exposed to the commercial side, so that they can get their discoveries or technologies commercialized. The business people are very interested in the latest breakthroughs from the labs, not only as possible starting points of companies when they are active in the corporate world, but also as a focus of their charitable effort when they have decided to retire from the corporate world. It is an enlivening and exciting milieu that would never leave you bored.
Perhaps there is a good reason for such outrageously inflated real estate prices in the Bay Area…
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The Amazing Tan Yuan Yuan
Last Friday, Michael and I braved the hideous traffic and dismal rain to go into the city to see San Francisco Ballet’s “Jewels”, choreographed by George Balanchine.
Unlike most well-known ballets, this one does not have a story behind it. Instead, it consists of three parts – “Emeralds”, “Rubies” and “Diamonds”, choreographed to music by Faure, Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky, respectively. Therefore, one would think that only ballet aficionados would really appreciate it, because it is somewhat of a “purist” ballet piece.
What made the trip into the city worthwhile again, was the amazing Tan Yuan Yuan, whose otherworldly beauty on the dance floor truly sublimed ballet into something beyond a dance form. She was the lead dancer in the last piece “Diamonds”. According to Michael, she put the rest of the dancers to shame, or to be more precise, she put the rest of the ballet world to shame, as the San Francisco Ballet troupe really are already world-class.
While there are ballerinas who are just as skinny and light, who are just as precise and skilled, and who are as emotional and communicative, we have yet to see anyone else except for Tan Yuan Yuan who seems to have effortlessly combined all of those elements, and added more intangible signatures of her own. She seems lighter than a bird on stage. When she moves, it is without effort – she begins each move faster than anyone else, but immediately slows down earlier than others, creating an illusion of a fluidic movement. She made ballet beautiful.
Now I understand that it is not due to lack of appreciation for ballet that we never got into it back in Boston - rather, it is because the dancers we saw did not make ballet what it should have been or what it could have been. Any type of artistic expression eventually is judged by its audience. The artistic forms themselves can only come into life through the creative effort of their executors. Without Beethoven and Mozart, we would not have sufficient reason to appreciate classical music; without Van Gogh and Monet, we would not have sufficient reason to like oil paintings; without the Renaissance artisans, we don’t have sufficient reason to pay attention to architecture; and lastly, without Tan Yuan Yuan, there would be no reason to love ballet. She embodies what ballet is supposed to deliver and more – the artistic form comes alive through her.
Unlike most well-known ballets, this one does not have a story behind it. Instead, it consists of three parts – “Emeralds”, “Rubies” and “Diamonds”, choreographed to music by Faure, Stravinsky and Tchaikovsky, respectively. Therefore, one would think that only ballet aficionados would really appreciate it, because it is somewhat of a “purist” ballet piece.
What made the trip into the city worthwhile again, was the amazing Tan Yuan Yuan, whose otherworldly beauty on the dance floor truly sublimed ballet into something beyond a dance form. She was the lead dancer in the last piece “Diamonds”. According to Michael, she put the rest of the dancers to shame, or to be more precise, she put the rest of the ballet world to shame, as the San Francisco Ballet troupe really are already world-class.
While there are ballerinas who are just as skinny and light, who are just as precise and skilled, and who are as emotional and communicative, we have yet to see anyone else except for Tan Yuan Yuan who seems to have effortlessly combined all of those elements, and added more intangible signatures of her own. She seems lighter than a bird on stage. When she moves, it is without effort – she begins each move faster than anyone else, but immediately slows down earlier than others, creating an illusion of a fluidic movement. She made ballet beautiful.
Now I understand that it is not due to lack of appreciation for ballet that we never got into it back in Boston - rather, it is because the dancers we saw did not make ballet what it should have been or what it could have been. Any type of artistic expression eventually is judged by its audience. The artistic forms themselves can only come into life through the creative effort of their executors. Without Beethoven and Mozart, we would not have sufficient reason to appreciate classical music; without Van Gogh and Monet, we would not have sufficient reason to like oil paintings; without the Renaissance artisans, we don’t have sufficient reason to pay attention to architecture; and lastly, without Tan Yuan Yuan, there would be no reason to love ballet. She embodies what ballet is supposed to deliver and more – the artistic form comes alive through her.
A Decision I know I Cannot Keep
As I am looking at the numerous boxes in our rental house in Bay Area still waiting to be unpacked, I am making a decision that I know cannot be kept - I will try from now on never to accumulate anything that is not absolutely essential. I know – it is futile to make that decision, just as we almost never stick to our New Year’s Resolutions. But when you have spent days unpacking boxes, only to realize that more are still to be done, you can’t help wondering if there is something you could do differently next time you have to move.
The moving company did all the packing, just like last time when we moved from Boston to San Diego. However, at that time, we had only a one-bedroom apartment to move, whereas this time we had a 4-bedroom house to move. In anticipation of the move, we donated an entire bedroom of furniture to Salvation Army. Still, the 4-bedroom rental house right now is completely filled, even though we have decided to leave many boxes of books, movies, framed pictures and decorations in the garage.
I start thinking of ways to minimize the number of personal possessions - now that we are living in the digital age, perhaps we can from now on eliminate the need for all future paper documents and books, CDs and DVDs (sadly we still have some movies on videotapes!). And if we can move into an age when even housework is specialized/outsourced, we may not need much in the kitchen either. Still, I realize that even with that radical approach, we will still have a house full of clothes, furniture, decorations, etc. We human beings are just naturally inclined to horde possessions. In a way, it is perhaps a rather primal instinct to collect, accumulate and hang onto things so that we feel that we have something. Otherwise, we might feel a sense of not belonging anywhere, a sense that we are just travelling through, a sense that we may not truly exist because there is no sign that we do.
Of course, the reality is that we ARE indeed just travelling through this world…
The moving company did all the packing, just like last time when we moved from Boston to San Diego. However, at that time, we had only a one-bedroom apartment to move, whereas this time we had a 4-bedroom house to move. In anticipation of the move, we donated an entire bedroom of furniture to Salvation Army. Still, the 4-bedroom rental house right now is completely filled, even though we have decided to leave many boxes of books, movies, framed pictures and decorations in the garage.
I start thinking of ways to minimize the number of personal possessions - now that we are living in the digital age, perhaps we can from now on eliminate the need for all future paper documents and books, CDs and DVDs (sadly we still have some movies on videotapes!). And if we can move into an age when even housework is specialized/outsourced, we may not need much in the kitchen either. Still, I realize that even with that radical approach, we will still have a house full of clothes, furniture, decorations, etc. We human beings are just naturally inclined to horde possessions. In a way, it is perhaps a rather primal instinct to collect, accumulate and hang onto things so that we feel that we have something. Otherwise, we might feel a sense of not belonging anywhere, a sense that we are just travelling through, a sense that we may not truly exist because there is no sign that we do.
Of course, the reality is that we ARE indeed just travelling through this world…
Monday, May 4, 2009
Reading Class Report from Harvard Class of 1994
I just received the class report of Harvard Class of 1994 in the mail, in anticipation of the upcoming 15th reunion of our class this June. Receiving this “crimson” red book did make my day quite exciting, especially in consideration of how little excitement I am exposed to these days. I have not been out of California for over half a year!
Since I transferred to Harvard as a junior, I only had two years to get to know people in my class. Besides, I could barely speak any English when I first arrived at Harvard. Fortunately, because of my husband Michael, who also is from Harvard Class of 1994, I have got to know more people in my class than I otherwise would have. I glanced through the class report quickly to find the names I remember, and what I found out about our class reminds me how different that crowd is from the rest of the world. So what are my observations and revelations?...
- There are people who wrote about everything and anything in their lives in the past 5 years (the verbose ones), there are people who apparently did not even update their contact information (the reticent ones), and there are people who cover the whole spectrum in between.
- Some have become professors at leading academic institutions; some have become partners at law firms, banks and consulting firms; some have made many millions from starting companies; some have become stay-home moms of three or more kids; some have travelled to exotic corners of the world; some have changed their sexuality; and some have led truly adventurous lives by experimenting with all kinds of endeavors that I did not know exist and still are not settling on one.
- Many people who have kids (or at least have written about having kids) have chosen rather regal names for their sons and daughters. I seem to recall “Alexander” as a popular boy’s name, and “Alexandra” as a popular girl’s name.
- Some are proudly destitute, because they have had plenty of excitement; some are proudly bourgeois, because they have established enviable financial and family stability; and there are those of us who are neither so cool nor so rich.
Only after I read the report did I realize that I also wrote a paragraph or two – I had completely forgotten that I did. I mentioned how I learned that we could not have excitement and comfort at the same time. However, reading this report made me realize that it is actually possible for some people to have BOTH excitement and comfort, whereas for the rest of us, we may not have either! Michael and I have led a rather quiet and conventional life by comparison to our illustrious and imaginative classmates, and yet, we have nothing to show for our presumably bourgeois and conventional approach either – no significant wealth to mention (my startup company’s stocks are highly illiquid and highly risky), no great fame to boast (Michael is only ABOUT to start a faculty job at a Bay Area academic institution), and no adorable family with 2.2 kids and a dog to parade (well, we are about to have just one kid – no twins unfortunately, and no pets).
I was just having an email exchange with a friend of mine in the biotech industry. He’s leading a biotech company he co-founded, and his wife, whom he met during graduate school, is a professor at a leading academic institution in southern California. They have one baby daughter. Michael and I share a lot in common with him and his wife, at least on the surface. He just told me that he was going to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in June, writing a children’s fiction in his spare time, and would probably take a family vacation with his wife and daughter in Vancouver or Seattle this summer.
I would not attempt to be too ambitious. If after the birth of my son, like this friend of mine in the biotech industry, I could still do a startup company, take trips with and without the baby, and manage to do a decent job raising my son, I would be content. – Of course, even if I could do all of that, by comparison to my accomplished classmates from Harvard Class of 1994, I would still be considered “below average” or “mediocre”…
Since I transferred to Harvard as a junior, I only had two years to get to know people in my class. Besides, I could barely speak any English when I first arrived at Harvard. Fortunately, because of my husband Michael, who also is from Harvard Class of 1994, I have got to know more people in my class than I otherwise would have. I glanced through the class report quickly to find the names I remember, and what I found out about our class reminds me how different that crowd is from the rest of the world. So what are my observations and revelations?...
- There are people who wrote about everything and anything in their lives in the past 5 years (the verbose ones), there are people who apparently did not even update their contact information (the reticent ones), and there are people who cover the whole spectrum in between.
- Some have become professors at leading academic institutions; some have become partners at law firms, banks and consulting firms; some have made many millions from starting companies; some have become stay-home moms of three or more kids; some have travelled to exotic corners of the world; some have changed their sexuality; and some have led truly adventurous lives by experimenting with all kinds of endeavors that I did not know exist and still are not settling on one.
- Many people who have kids (or at least have written about having kids) have chosen rather regal names for their sons and daughters. I seem to recall “Alexander” as a popular boy’s name, and “Alexandra” as a popular girl’s name.
- Some are proudly destitute, because they have had plenty of excitement; some are proudly bourgeois, because they have established enviable financial and family stability; and there are those of us who are neither so cool nor so rich.
Only after I read the report did I realize that I also wrote a paragraph or two – I had completely forgotten that I did. I mentioned how I learned that we could not have excitement and comfort at the same time. However, reading this report made me realize that it is actually possible for some people to have BOTH excitement and comfort, whereas for the rest of us, we may not have either! Michael and I have led a rather quiet and conventional life by comparison to our illustrious and imaginative classmates, and yet, we have nothing to show for our presumably bourgeois and conventional approach either – no significant wealth to mention (my startup company’s stocks are highly illiquid and highly risky), no great fame to boast (Michael is only ABOUT to start a faculty job at a Bay Area academic institution), and no adorable family with 2.2 kids and a dog to parade (well, we are about to have just one kid – no twins unfortunately, and no pets).
I was just having an email exchange with a friend of mine in the biotech industry. He’s leading a biotech company he co-founded, and his wife, whom he met during graduate school, is a professor at a leading academic institution in southern California. They have one baby daughter. Michael and I share a lot in common with him and his wife, at least on the surface. He just told me that he was going to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in June, writing a children’s fiction in his spare time, and would probably take a family vacation with his wife and daughter in Vancouver or Seattle this summer.
I would not attempt to be too ambitious. If after the birth of my son, like this friend of mine in the biotech industry, I could still do a startup company, take trips with and without the baby, and manage to do a decent job raising my son, I would be content. – Of course, even if I could do all of that, by comparison to my accomplished classmates from Harvard Class of 1994, I would still be considered “below average” or “mediocre”…
Alice Walker and Rebecca Walker
My sister-in-law lent me a book “Baby Love – Choosing Motherhood after a lifetime of ambivalence” by Rebecca Walker, and said that I might find it entertaining.
Only after I started reading it, did I realize that Rebecca Walker was the only daughter of the black feminist and writer Alice Walker during her only marriage to a Jewish American lawyer. Apparently, the daughter never got any encouragement from the mother about having kids, as the mother viewed motherhood as a sure way to kill a woman’s freedom and possibilities. Now that the daughter has had a son, they no longer speak to each other! Rebecca herself is already a rather avant-garde Bohemian activist and writer, who has written extensively on feminism. She grew up spending two years at a time with one parent. Now that she’s also a writer, there is definitely some mother-daughter rivalry. Like her mother, Rebecca Walker experimented with lesbianism and promiscuity (at least that’s what it sounds like to us non-Bohemians) in general But unlike her mother, she eventually decided to settle down with one partner and have a baby.
I have long decided that the feminist movement was actually a failure – making women believe that “equality” has to imply “sameness”. Of course, in order to be exactly equal, women have to not bear and raise kids, because men don’t; women have to put their own career and ambition above everything else, because men do; women have to be boisterous and loud, because men are; women have to sleep around, because men have; and so on, and so forth. As a result, a whole generation of women who are perhaps a little older than Rebecca Walker have decided that they will live a “free” life, in order to be happy, only to realize later in life that they are not any happier. They rallied to the cry of the leaders of the feminist movements, only to realize that they had nothing to fight for. I believe that a life without kids is fine, as long as one has enough to fill a life. However, many women under the influence of radical feminism have chosen deliberately not to have kids, only to have nothing else fill their lives. They are no Alice Walker, who has indeed been busy promoting her ideas for decades. But they have taken up Alice Walker’s fury, without Alice Walker’s reason to be furious. It is as if they have blindly decided to join a revolution, only to realize that they were never the down-trodden mass that needed such a revolution. They would realize when it’s too late that their interests would have been best served had they not joined this revolution, because they were never subjected to the oppression that inspired this revolution.
In a way, I can see why the Alice Walkers had to go to such offensive extremes in their times by renouncing family and motherhood altogether. That is because they did live in a different time, which was indeed very difficult for women. Back in their times, if they chose to have kids, they would have to stay home to take care of them, because their husbands would not and there would be no other support either. If they chose to get married, they would have to stand behind their husbands and serve in a supportive role, because there was no other way for a marriage to work. The entire society was against them if they wanted to have a life of their own – while being wives and mothers. Therefore, they felt compelled to make a radical choice to be heard or noticed – by renouncing motherhood, they would not have to be bound at home; by renouncing monogamy, they would not have to suffer quietly men’s infidelity; by renouncing anything moderate, they would not have to answer to other traditions they found suffocating, because after all, there were many societal traditions that were unfair and suffocating to women back then. Alice Walker did have a reason to be so extreme and offensive.
Things have changed dramatically in the 21st century. Now that we have had a few decades of evaluating the results of the radical feminist movement besides taking into account the current socio-economic environment, we should be able to declare that the Alice Walkers no longer serve a great purpose today. Thanks to their effort, there is much greater opportunity for women these days. But because of their effort, the generation after Alice Walker no longer should act as if the entire world owed them. The world did owe Alice Walker, but not Rebecca Walker.
However, one of the biggest side effects of the radical feminist movement is that it allows today’s women to shun all responsibility by resorting to excuses. If they have ever relocated for their husbands’ careers, they blame their lackluster careers on the husbands; if they had ever done anything at home, they blame that the husbands were not sharing equal burden. I do believe that some women with really busy work and social lives have made the right choice in not having kids – they don’t need kids and they really don’t have time for them. There are also women who have not found the right partners with whom to have kids, so they naturally pursue a different life, which can be equally fulfilling. But for many other blind followers of Alice Walker and the feminist movement, they have neither Alice Walker’s independence – they still want husbands to support them (see an earlier blog on “Fortress Besieged”); nor Alice Walker’s talent or hard work – they are not accomplished in anything in particular. But their conscious and deliberate choices of not having kids simply have led them to have more time to complain, to lament, to resent and to begrudge – if they have chosen deliberately not to have kids, they ask indignantly, how come they have not led a glamorous, accomplished and adventurous life so far? – It is as if they have carved out all this time, only to realize that they don’t need any of this time after all.
Now that Rebecca Walker has become a mother, it has not stopped her from being a writer. In fact, she wrote this book about how she came to embrace motherhood after a whole life of ambivalence, which she has blamed on her mother. To some extent, she was right to blame her mother, as her mother was a heavy influence on her. Yet on the other hand, aren’t we all responsible for our own decisions once we reach adulthood? She seems to imply that it was wrong of her mother to dismiss motherhood, as it turned out to be a great source of joy for herself. Well, maybe that was not the case for a mother in the 1970s who still wanted to have a writing and activist career. Alice Walker was probably right in resenting motherhood in her times, just as Rebecca Walker is right in embracing motherhood today.
As with most things in life, we tend to over-correct and over-compensate. If the mother suffered in one direction, she would insist on her daughter going the other direction as far as possible, not realizing that the other extreme could be as dangerous or traumatic, and not realizing that her daughter naturally had no inclination to go the other extreme. In other words, only if a woman has been subjected to the submissive role of a wife/mother in the old days would she necessarily want to defy any and all responsibilities of a wife and a mother. Likewise, only if a woman has been subjected to the constant lectures of feminism would she want to go the other direction of becoming a stay-home mother – apparently many women graduating from Ivy League schools these days have chosen that over a busy career, much to the consternation of their own mothers!
Only after I started reading it, did I realize that Rebecca Walker was the only daughter of the black feminist and writer Alice Walker during her only marriage to a Jewish American lawyer. Apparently, the daughter never got any encouragement from the mother about having kids, as the mother viewed motherhood as a sure way to kill a woman’s freedom and possibilities. Now that the daughter has had a son, they no longer speak to each other! Rebecca herself is already a rather avant-garde Bohemian activist and writer, who has written extensively on feminism. She grew up spending two years at a time with one parent. Now that she’s also a writer, there is definitely some mother-daughter rivalry. Like her mother, Rebecca Walker experimented with lesbianism and promiscuity (at least that’s what it sounds like to us non-Bohemians) in general But unlike her mother, she eventually decided to settle down with one partner and have a baby.
I have long decided that the feminist movement was actually a failure – making women believe that “equality” has to imply “sameness”. Of course, in order to be exactly equal, women have to not bear and raise kids, because men don’t; women have to put their own career and ambition above everything else, because men do; women have to be boisterous and loud, because men are; women have to sleep around, because men have; and so on, and so forth. As a result, a whole generation of women who are perhaps a little older than Rebecca Walker have decided that they will live a “free” life, in order to be happy, only to realize later in life that they are not any happier. They rallied to the cry of the leaders of the feminist movements, only to realize that they had nothing to fight for. I believe that a life without kids is fine, as long as one has enough to fill a life. However, many women under the influence of radical feminism have chosen deliberately not to have kids, only to have nothing else fill their lives. They are no Alice Walker, who has indeed been busy promoting her ideas for decades. But they have taken up Alice Walker’s fury, without Alice Walker’s reason to be furious. It is as if they have blindly decided to join a revolution, only to realize that they were never the down-trodden mass that needed such a revolution. They would realize when it’s too late that their interests would have been best served had they not joined this revolution, because they were never subjected to the oppression that inspired this revolution.
In a way, I can see why the Alice Walkers had to go to such offensive extremes in their times by renouncing family and motherhood altogether. That is because they did live in a different time, which was indeed very difficult for women. Back in their times, if they chose to have kids, they would have to stay home to take care of them, because their husbands would not and there would be no other support either. If they chose to get married, they would have to stand behind their husbands and serve in a supportive role, because there was no other way for a marriage to work. The entire society was against them if they wanted to have a life of their own – while being wives and mothers. Therefore, they felt compelled to make a radical choice to be heard or noticed – by renouncing motherhood, they would not have to be bound at home; by renouncing monogamy, they would not have to suffer quietly men’s infidelity; by renouncing anything moderate, they would not have to answer to other traditions they found suffocating, because after all, there were many societal traditions that were unfair and suffocating to women back then. Alice Walker did have a reason to be so extreme and offensive.
Things have changed dramatically in the 21st century. Now that we have had a few decades of evaluating the results of the radical feminist movement besides taking into account the current socio-economic environment, we should be able to declare that the Alice Walkers no longer serve a great purpose today. Thanks to their effort, there is much greater opportunity for women these days. But because of their effort, the generation after Alice Walker no longer should act as if the entire world owed them. The world did owe Alice Walker, but not Rebecca Walker.
However, one of the biggest side effects of the radical feminist movement is that it allows today’s women to shun all responsibility by resorting to excuses. If they have ever relocated for their husbands’ careers, they blame their lackluster careers on the husbands; if they had ever done anything at home, they blame that the husbands were not sharing equal burden. I do believe that some women with really busy work and social lives have made the right choice in not having kids – they don’t need kids and they really don’t have time for them. There are also women who have not found the right partners with whom to have kids, so they naturally pursue a different life, which can be equally fulfilling. But for many other blind followers of Alice Walker and the feminist movement, they have neither Alice Walker’s independence – they still want husbands to support them (see an earlier blog on “Fortress Besieged”); nor Alice Walker’s talent or hard work – they are not accomplished in anything in particular. But their conscious and deliberate choices of not having kids simply have led them to have more time to complain, to lament, to resent and to begrudge – if they have chosen deliberately not to have kids, they ask indignantly, how come they have not led a glamorous, accomplished and adventurous life so far? – It is as if they have carved out all this time, only to realize that they don’t need any of this time after all.
Now that Rebecca Walker has become a mother, it has not stopped her from being a writer. In fact, she wrote this book about how she came to embrace motherhood after a whole life of ambivalence, which she has blamed on her mother. To some extent, she was right to blame her mother, as her mother was a heavy influence on her. Yet on the other hand, aren’t we all responsible for our own decisions once we reach adulthood? She seems to imply that it was wrong of her mother to dismiss motherhood, as it turned out to be a great source of joy for herself. Well, maybe that was not the case for a mother in the 1970s who still wanted to have a writing and activist career. Alice Walker was probably right in resenting motherhood in her times, just as Rebecca Walker is right in embracing motherhood today.
As with most things in life, we tend to over-correct and over-compensate. If the mother suffered in one direction, she would insist on her daughter going the other direction as far as possible, not realizing that the other extreme could be as dangerous or traumatic, and not realizing that her daughter naturally had no inclination to go the other extreme. In other words, only if a woman has been subjected to the submissive role of a wife/mother in the old days would she necessarily want to defy any and all responsibilities of a wife and a mother. Likewise, only if a woman has been subjected to the constant lectures of feminism would she want to go the other direction of becoming a stay-home mother – apparently many women graduating from Ivy League schools these days have chosen that over a busy career, much to the consternation of their own mothers!
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