"When Mexicans Could Play Ball": The Book is Out!

I break my self-imposed silence to announce the publication of my book When Mexicans Could Play Ball by the University of Texas Press. The link below will take you to a place in which you can order the book. I think it is probably my best work because it combines most of my skills, but I've said that before so I won't go into here again. I will be interviewed by Texas Public Radio this week and I'm scheduled to be at the San Antonio Book Fair this spring.

http://utpress.utexas.edu/index.php/books/garwhe

Last Post of the Year

The title says it all. I will not be writing in this blog for the rest of this year in order to concentrate on finishing up a work that I promised to finished by the end of the year but which will now more likely take to the middle of the spring. That work is the screenplay based on my upcoming book. Basically I will suspend most all other writing work and make no further commitments until I am finished. This is something hard for me but I've decided that from now on I need to be more focused and prioritize my writing. In the past, I would work simultaneously on different projects and allow one of them to "fight itself to the top" and it would be the one that I would finish first. That process served me well for a number of years but now I want to make a change.

I do so for a number of reasons but two of them are that a periodic change in approach to one's writing can be invigorating and break the monotony that often arises when we write. The other reason is that sometimes the "projects' fight" to be number one takes too long, especially with those works directly outside my professional responsibilities. It thus becomes easy to have new scholarly works intrude into my writing schedule, thus pushing some of  my other works further into the future. While I feel young and am in good health, I realize I have more projects in mind that I do years left, consequently prioritizing becomes important.

While I could still write this blog and other things while I focus on one particular work, I have chosen to make a mental and emotional commitment to one work at a time. When I finish the screenplay I will re-evaluate whether this is the right approach. My sense is that it will be.

When I started the blog I did so with the idea that I would do it for one year and then evaluate whether I wanted to continue. These next six weeks will allow me time to see if I miss writing it and whether I actually have something to say that matters. Being refreshed and having finished a very different type of writing project will give me a better perspective. The blog as untraditional as it was has been rather enjoyable and allowed me to talk about things that I think are important to a writer and a scholar, and the posts may well form the basis for a small booklet that I would love to write for young scholars who struggle with their writing.

If I do return it will be with the new emphasis that I wrote about two posting ago. To do that,  I will have to prepare. If I don't return it will have been a great experience.

So, have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year!

un amigo

Kennedy, Mexicans basketballers and Writing.

This semester I have been inundated with requests to speak at different venues about JFK because of the upcoming 50th anniversary of his assasination. Just this week I was asked to write an opinion piece for the Houston Chronicle's Op-ed page and next week I will be on the Travis Smiley radio show to talk about Kennedy and civil rights. Most of this is a result of having written a book on JFK and Mexican Americans years ago.

When the book first came out it was received well by reviewers and a number of the top people in my field but the larger response was almost non-existent. Now, almost 12 years later it is selling briskly and I'm getting all kinds of call for interviews and I even have a well-paid speaking engagement at the University of Houston this month to talk on Kennedy. When asked in a radio program earlier this week whether writing academic book "pays", I had to say yes, but usually not with large royalty checks, but in opportunities to engage the public, to give presentations, get promotion and tenure, and receive research grants. Writing in the academy is all about how it helps us in the classroom and in engaging the larger public.

When my book When Mexicans Could Play Ball comes out in January the focus of my lectures and presentations will be basketball, sports and class/race & ethnicity. Even though I mostly write about civil rights and politics, it is in this book that all the things I've written and experienced came together to inform a story. I'm simply doing what my first writing teacher told me and a lot of other disinterested Chicanitos in class, "write about things you know". Having been a coach for several church basketball teams, a sports writer for a couple of  years, having attended the same school and lived in the same barrios as the basketball players, and writting a lot on race, class and culture, helped me to write the story.

The thing I most liked about this project was the ability to use all the skills I could muster from both fiction and nonfiction writing. My drama classes on character development and plot, my creative nonfiction training on essayish imagery, and my sports journalism all came into play. I also used a bit of material culture analysis. I don't know that it is a great work but it is one of the best that I have done. More importantly, it taught me how to expand boundaries while maintaining the integrity of the historical discipline.

As I pick up from where I left off last year on one of my novels I know that I will be using a lot of historical analysis and "research" to move the story along. More than a decade before the book The Road came out I was experimenting with dialogue as storytelling. The ability to write dialogue comes from my self-taught skill of playwriting. Having written books that take different approaches makes me more confident in approaching any topic that interests me. I've come to realize that most scholars who are talented but not too productive are those who struggle to say what they really want to say. Most think it is a theoretical or methodological problem, but usually it is because they have not honed their skills enough to have their words catch up to their thoughts.

Earlier this week I was on the BYU-Radio program "This Will Take a While" with Dean Dunkin and we spoke on writing history and of course we wandered off to all the peripheral topics that come with such a discussion. I enjoyed it because it is not often that I get to talk about the writing process in any profound way, though I try in several of my history classes that focus on producing a "big paper". Most of the time, however, students are uninterested in learning skills beyond those absolutely necessary to write the final paper. And of course there is rarely time to explore all aspects of writing. I have discovered, and re-affirmed it again during the interview, that when we talk about writing we often learn something about our own writing and about the process itself.

While I planned to be creative and expansive in writing my biography on Octavio Romano I came out of the interview even more convinced that there are still other approaches that I can use to tell a better story. At the same time, I am more committed to not blurring the lines between scholarship and fiction, or better put to not let creativity become the story. All these writing techniques are simply a way to understand and to export knowledge more efficiently to the reader. It is not about creating imagery for the sake of selling a book or getting a prize or showing off my skills as a writer or historian.

I take seriously my responsibilities and especially so today when too many scholars are writing fiction with footnotes. I have seen some young scholars try to write work that can be appealing to a larger audience and they'll use some literary styles but most are not good enough at them to know when they cross boundaries. The fact that history is not a science per se and that often fiction can cover ground that documents or oral history can't does not justify making assumptions that are based simply on conjecture. As one article published said almost twenty years ago, historians are coming back to the narrative "but can they write?". In every academic or writing career, tiime will tell.

Changing "Letters from Garcia"

Today, I begin a change to "Letters from Garcia" and go from these long-winded, painfully constructed mini-essays to more informal and timely--and possibly just as winded--postings. The reason, or at least part of it, is that I have been able to say much of what I wanted to say about formal writing and scholarship already, and now I simply want to write and talk about where I'm going with my own writing, providing samples of it, discussing the experiences--triumphs, setbacks, doubts, biases-- that frame the works I jot down, all with the hope that it's useful to others who write and engage in the intellectual pursuit.

At the moment I find myself at a crossroad. With a book project to advance and three conference presentations to write, I find myself more than adequately committed up through the end of spring. Yet, I just submitted my memoir to a press, have a novel--actually two--that are demanding equal time, and an opportunity to co-author a screenplay based on my upcoming book (January unveiling) on a basketball team duirng the World War Two years.I've also got friends at the local church wondering when I will finish the much promised Christmas play.

In a way unimaginable a few years ago, all my work seems to be coalescing into one giant pool of ideas and information that makes writing "just scholarship" or "just fiction" seem limiting. I've reached a point where I am neither just a scholar or fiction writer but someone whose intellectual pursuits transcends boundaries. Now, before anyone gets the wrong idea, I do believe there are boundaries that keep scholarship for the most part on one side and literature on the other, though I have written in this blog of the applicability of the same writing skills for both.

I've concluded that what I really want to do with the rest of my life is to tell stories, engage ideas and create characters that reflect life, and do it through different mediums. So, I want to finish the biography on Octavio Romano, co-author the screenplay on the basketball players, write novels on complicated themes, and possibly seasonal plays, a book of psalms, finish the Christmas play and a book of sermons. The last idea comes from having read, many years ago, a book of sermons by Peter Marshall who once served as Chaplain of the Senate. How I will actually justify the latter is still uncertain, though I could simply titled it "Sermons I Gave or Should Have as a Mormon Bishop". It would go well with the idea I had a few years earlier to write a book of lectures and titled it "Harvard Lectures that I Never Gave at Harvard".

The goal is not to experiment or become an intellectual bohemian of sorts but rather to find the avenues, venues, and mediums with which to get all those ideas in my head out into the public square. The last thing I want do is start over. It would go contrary to the idea of becoming a mature scholar and intellectual that I yearn to be. I want to build on what I've done and to maintain the particular style that I've constructed over my life but to apply it to different forms of writing. It will mean learning new techniques and engaging in unchartered waters--for me--but it will not mean leaving behind who I am or what I have been.

 I have done some of this in the past, but I have not embraced it a way that defines who I am not only to myself but to others. I've simply been the scholar who occasionally writes nonacademic work, dabbles in fiction here and there and possibly full time when he retires. Instead I want to be the person who writes all kinds of literature, crossing boundaries, coalescing styles and formats but respecting those principles that maintain the differences between fiction and nonfiction. I want to construct a larger narrative that provides my view of the world, and endorses my values but in the messy, complicated and nonlinear way that is life.  

It is the last frontier (final?) for a man who has been truly blessed by a writing and academic career but who at times has been restricted by his adherence to rules and the playing of "appropriate roles". Now, I believe in rules and even appropriate roles but I believe that people earn the right to transcend and even expand them. I think I have waited long enough to do both. So let's see where this takes me.

Boxing Ourselves In With Our Own Ideas

A couple of days ago I was talking on the phone with a dear friend, a well-known scholar that is facing some medical problems. As always, we engaged in a free-ranging discussion about books, documentaries and politics. Somewhere about the end we got into a heated exchange over young scholars, filmmakers and activists who, according to him, don't have any real sense of the problems this nations faces. It reminded me of other such rantings by others--including myself--about how the "new generation" doesn't get it. Then it came to me that no "new" generation ever gets it, especially when they are new on the scene. The reality is that "getting it" comes with time and experience, and usually when the new generation has had time to go through its own trial by fire moment. Also, their experiences while similar are never exactly the same. Some issues and circumstances may repeat themselves but they never do so in the exact manner so their responses are likely to be different than ours were in another era.

What started this sometimes angry exchange was his charge that another, much younger, friend of mine had produced a documentary that "offered nothing new" and was reflecting a leaderless and unimaginative generation. Knowing the circumstances under which the documentary was made, I well understood the reasons for the direction taken. I also understood that my younger friend saw things differently than both my older colleague or I did because his life experiences have been different and he is still finding his way. I understood this and enjoyed the film while my colleague did not and disliked the it.

The disagreement, however, made me think about how often we are boxed in by our ideologies and our experiences which are often a reflection of trying to live out our political, religious or philosophical views. It can often be an unending cycle that begins with some experiences that lead us to think in a particular way which then leads us to act in a particular way which then leads to re-affirm what we believe and the cycle keeps going ever faster and often in shorter loops. Before we know it we are boxed in and while we might want to see things differently we often default to our ever present views when we are forced to react or when we engage in a discussion as did my friend and I.

A wonderful human being and an excellent scholar, my friend has lived his "ideals" for so long that he sees everything from that angle and as it happens to us old people, we become less patient with those that are different. Worse, when our world view becomes extremely unpopular or doesn't even get into the kitchen table anymore, we double down and seem to pin a badge of courage on ourselves for being different. Now, I believe that there are things worth believing in no matter what others think, but my sense is that politics and rigid ideologies are rarely ever worth sacrilizing, mainly because they are men-made and often begin in particular times and spaces that do not necessarily represent the totality of life experiences. The main ideas can remain relevant but their details and original application rarely do. And those details and applications are usually the ones that make us irrelevant to the larger conversations as they have my dear colleague whose early work was outstanding but whose current and future works go further and further out on a limb and which, unfortunately, seem to be disproven almost as soon as they are published. The catastrophic financial collapse of 2012 never came, neither did the election of a leftist president in Mexico, nor the massive popular uprising or a host of other predictions.

The tragedy is that as a fine scholars he understood the problems, provided great evidence of their impact on world economies and even offered some good solutions, but his need to see dynamic affirmation of his ideas clouded his conclusions, and so his last two books may well be outdated before they ever make it past their first half decade. Worse, the more they become outdated the more he doubles down and the angrier he gets, slipping into the role of angry polemicists and out of being the scholar that he was. The more he sees the self-created walls creep closer and closer the more he defends his shrinking intellectual space.

This is a phenomenon that occurs to very bright people who take their words and writings as gospel. Because they frame them in such high rhetoric and affirm them so vehemently they find themselves in a quagmire with two choices--embarrasingly admit you were wrong or argue against all evidence that you are right. Both choices have consequences though the first one can still bring redemption while the latter usually means ridicule and ending up in the disposable binge of history with other individuals who were wrong but never admitted it.

How do we end up there? Part of it is arrogance, but the other bigger part is our constructing a world view that is dependent on simply expanding that which we already know. A good example is historians who write about say the factory floor in American society. The historians that get boxed in are the ones that get caught up in only writing about the machinery and daily function of the shop floor and not on the greater meanings of both. While this is important and surely too many scholars don't get into the details, it has an intellectual ceiling and eventually the work loses any sense of originality or even relevance. There are areas which are simply overworked and minutea becomes the prominent feature of further study, and to continue to do it is to box ourselves intellectually.

Also, when ideology in our writing becomes primal and we see people only through that lense--which often means we ignore those who don't follow our ideological trajectory--we end up with conclusions that are rarely applicable to what is actually going on. I don't mean to say that ideology is not important or that it cannot explain much of what happens in the lives of people, only that even ideology has to be fluid and understand that people don't function in a linear fashion or even in a logical one. Our writing should be based partly on a "scholarship or intellect of the flesh" which causes us to continually evaluate how things actually play out in real life.

In no way does this mean that we have to be relativists or individuals without a firm foundation of belief.  Rather it means we retain a desire to continue to grow, learn, and experience and a willingness to admit that sometimes we are wrong and we have to change our analysis or our conclusions. To say, "I don't give a damn what others think" or to think that everyone is wrong except us is to close our minds to the essence of the intellectual pursuit or even to our efforts to do good with our scholarship. It means we have boxed ourselves in with those ideals that were once meant to make us more knowledgeable and better intellectuals.

Biography: Complicated Writing Founded on Simplicity

As a scholar and a writer I find that writing about life, whether in scholarly or fictional terms, is all about understanding how to interpret people's simplicity, which is often overlooked when we obsess over their "complications" and focus on finding ways to explain nuances in their lives. For centuries we've tried to established theories, methodologies and even ideological frameworks to try to explain why people act the way they do. We have often sought to identify the powerful forces that whirl around them and then attempt to "explain" how these affect their daily actions. For the most part we have done a credible job in explaining things to a particular generation but given each generation's idyosincracies the explanations usually changes even if only by small increments.

As I tackle my second biography I'm reminded that each individual's life is both unique to them and generally similar to those around them. But I also realize that ideology, theory and some forms of methodology often complicate the story-telliing and even more so the analysis. This is obvious since people normally don't live their lives in a scripted way no matter their ideology, personal beliefs or religious dogma. Their lives are more complex simply because life is both simple and complicated and much of our actions are nuance only because we find no easy answers for the daily challenges that call for multiple responses.

Because our characters interact with other individuals their lives are complicated not only by the reactions of those individuals but also their reaction to those reactions.While the people who make it to the biographical stage are usually more dominant and assertive and seem to get what they want more often than the usual person in the crowd, they often do so not because they get their "way" but because they find a "way" to get what they want.

What I find so interesting about how these people live their lives is that they are both particularly sensitive to things around them and often insulated from them. They seem to have the ability to store things in their souls, to prioritize based on internal values rather than ideology or dogma, and more importantly, they seem inmune to or at least tolerant of pressures that others cave in to. They also find their "calling" or arrive at that critical moment of change in their lives at unexpected times.

We sometimes assume, that character development is easier in fiction because the author decides the time and place, and the personal traits. Yet, any good fiction writer will tell you that sometimes characters take a life of their own, push back against our wishes, and eventually find ways to force a compromise that is not always fully to our liking. I remember a minor character intruding and taking over large parts of a novel I wrote.

Writing a biography like writing a novel is fraud with messy side stories, unforseen intricasies, unresolvable questions, and personal flaws that entangle the plot and at the same time provide the much needed nuance to make the life we depict interesting and instructive. Sometimes this really complicates the message we thought we wanted to promote when we started writing, and if we are honest with ourselves--and hopefully our readers--we end with another "story" or biographical narrative.

Embracing complication is important but so is understanding that simplicity runs through every snarled lifestory. In fact, simplicity is the core of every story no matter how complex it may seem. We all have fundamental concepts of life and while we engage in twists and turns, and are tossed to & fro by the waves of daily living, we tend to default to those core ideals. All of us have values and they usually are the ones that simplify our desires even if they might complicate our lives when we execute them. This makes it imperative that we find the "simplicity" of someone's life and create a core understanding before we start adding the complexities that come with a lived experience.

The simplicity together with the complexities is what creates the nuance because nuance is neither "and/or" but the "maybe," the one thing that is not clear, which is not explainable altogether by looking at the past, the relationships or even the aspirations. People sometimes act against their own selves  and sometimes they show flashes of charity or malevolency that seem out of character. At other times, they show an adventurous spirit or a cautious heart that is uncharacteristic of those traits we have assigned to them.

What are we to do with this? Some scholars discard these traits so as to keep their "narrative" clean. Others make too much of them and create disjointed portrayals, and of course, some build whole new narratives from them. Nuance, however, is not really the dominant trait of anyone, it is simply the little thing that makes them unique within the whole. Someone can still be "representative" and we can still "learn" things about a larger group by studying these people, but they serve to remind us that no matter the similarities and the representative nature of some people, they are still human beings and have particular wants and dislikes, some which make them different from or similar to others. These pecularities are important to note because they provide cautionary signs that we should constantly juggle the collective as well as the individual idyosincracies of a person's life in writing biography or in writing fictional characters. Yet, we need to remember that at the core most people have simple aspirations that often get encumbered by the experiences of everyday life. 

Understanding these will allow us to make sense of all the layers of complication that people acquire in a lifetime, and to better understand the person. It will also reveal in which way they are representatve of and peculiar to what surrounds them.

Some Basics for Intellectual Maturity

Intellectual maturity, however, is not just a product of reading and contemplation. It is the endresult of an examined, engaged and well-lived life. All the education and experience in the world cannot change the character of a person if that person chooses to behave in an inmature way, or to shun those principles that make someone serious, retrospective and wise. Consequently, as we strive to be intellectually mature we engage in bringing a sense of order to our lives, learning respect for others and gaining an ability to think before we speak.

If knowledge accummulation was all that it took then most old scholars, writers and activists would be mature intellectuals, but they are not. Some people I respect as scholars and writers do not measure up simply because they are more concern about what some literary scholars call "performance"or about their politics then they are about imparting wisdom. Wisdom is knowledge encapsulated within temperance, a bit of long suffering, and an eye toward contributing something that lasts beyond the season. That is why there are so few truly mature intellectuals in our academy and our public life.

But there are some, and they have an influence beyond what they might imagine. Not all of them get everything right, and in today's critical world we can find much fault in their work and thoughts. Being intellectually mature doesn't mean that you are perfect or that you stay up with all the cultural changes, only that what you say is based on solid principles that neither vacillate or are given to enhancing a personal reputation.  Some may seem rigid but in fact are not because they understand that they don't know everything, but they are firm because they realize that without firm opinions and recognizeable positions debate and intelletual negotiation is impossible.

Intellectual maturity is also not bond by particular cultural parameters. It is easy to see the mature intellectual as some kind of Einstein or Neibhur--notice the absence of women here--but there are others who do not fit the image but are so in their particular ways. What makes them mature intellectuals is that after a life of accummulating knowledge and engaging actively in their fields, and after a sizeable body of work, they then retreat to reappear only when they have something important to say or write.

Intellectual maturity is also not the domain of the academy or journalism or even the sciences. We tend to get many of them from those disciplines but that is only because we recognize them more easily. The first mature intellectual I met was na old fellow that lived next door to our home. In the afternoons he would gather the barrio kids and tell them stories about the Mexican Revolution, la Llorona, about science and anything that a barrio kid would be interested in. I'm sure that he got some things wrong, at least in the details, but he taught those of us who paid careful attention that there was knowledge to accummulate and worlds to explore.

He was a sober man who read much, said a lot less than he had to, and listened, even to us rowdy kids. Another non-academician, non-elite was Sister Zacharias, a sunday school teacher in a small church that I attended. It was hard to sit through a lesson of hers--she mostly taught adults but I would sneak in occasionally--and not be moved by her spiritual insights, her scriptural knowledge and by the conviction that we could trust every word that came from her mouth. As someone who reads much about religion and doctrine I know that she did not get everything right, but she motivated us to search the divine and to trust.

Trust is a fundamental characteristic of a mature intellectual. You trust them to say only those things they really believe are true, and only after they have been tested it through intense study and action.

After many years of engaging in the intellectual pursuit I realize that intellectual maturity may come with age and experience--though there are young mature intellectuals--but it does not come as a logical sequence. The world itself does not prepare or train us to be intellectually mature. And true intellectual maturity is not found within a moment or a season but is something that lasts for the person's remaining years.

When I think about it that way I realize how far I am from achieving that state of mind. So, for the moment I simply write about it while I admire those who are--from a distance, lest they discover my intellectual inmaturity.

Intellectual Maturity

I have been swamped since I came back to Utah and have written little. Add a bit of spousal illness and it has been hard to think of anything to write. I don't think I have that much to say today but felt the need to continue to communicate. There are so many things I want to say and so I want to be careful not to sound like the street corner preacher who emphasizes the obvious and garbles the details. After all, this blog is partly about communicating and writing, and another part about making sense.

What has been on my mind in recent weeks is change, and the ability to deal with it whether it comes at the dawning of our intellectual lives or at the sunset. Change is not new but it seems to come faster and in more varied ways today with technology. Everyone has a say and there are many good ideas and presumptions out there as well as many others that dressed themselves as such. For a person that wants to keep in touch with what goes on around him/her the overload can easily destroy a line of thought. And when you get old that can be rather inhibiting and destabilizing. It also makes it hard to be a mature intellectual.

Maturity requires profound thinking and the ability to focus on specific thoughts and actions. It is difficult to do so today. I now understand why Thoreau took "time out" to live by himself and why Emily Dickens stayed in her room most of her life. I love the woods but would never live there alone and while I love my home the four walls eventually become smaller and suffocating. Yet, finding my space and my time are more important today than ever.

I was better at it when I was simply a freelance writer and got up to write and went to sleep after writing. Only in those moments when I went out to make a few bucks did I interrupt that part of my thoughtful life.

Becoming a professor changed all of that because I did not believe in "carving my space" at a time that I was mentoring students, giving interviews to the media, or conducting research for my books. I became a public person while being a deeply private one. As much as I enjoy gatherings with friends and engaging in intellectual discussions, I still often find myself alone in a crowd because that is where I feel the most confident.

I believe that as we mature intellecutally we need to get a bit more introspective and to be more profound in our analysis and our work. Accummulating knowledge is important but it is not the same as digesting it. We can go on expanding side ways and even upward but much of that will "tip over" if we don't ground ourselves more deeply in the soil of knowledge and wisdom.

Rather than sharpening our intellectual tools to continue to compete with newer scholars who graduate with an abundance of theories and technological skills, we need to better assess what we know and find ways to articulate it in more meaningful ways. Our competitive years are over and it is time to create a secure place for our work. This is important even if by stepping away from the hustle and bustle of academia, we are perceived as a bit oudated and are accused of "not getting it" or of "not staying current". I think there is something to the criticism but I also believe that much of it has to do with the competitive nature of the intellectual pursuit.

No one that keeps trying to stay "current" ever writes work that will stand the test of time because every discipline and genre requires time to master, and in the quasi-interdisciplinary academic or intellectual world in which we live, we end up mastering nothing because we cannot focus on anything for too long. In a period of time when information, data and analyses continue to pour into our heads, it is hard to truly known anything but the most superficial. So we expand sideways but set down very little intellectual roots. That may be okay and even natural for young scholars, writers and intellectuals. Accummulation while young is important for maturity in our latter years but it can evenutally be detrimental to the thought process. I don't mean we should stop learning or acquiring news skills, only that we shift our focus to making better and more profound sense of what we know and have learned already.

Having challenging jobs and developing difficult research questions is of great value while young, but there is a time to consolidate, evaluate and then share. While we are suppose to do that for all of our work, there is something about time and experience that can provide us with important insights.

Recently, I was reminded of a friend I had at a university. He was a living library of his community's history and had been an important actor within that past. But by the time I met him, he sat on the steps outside of his office and smoke hundreds of cigarrettes sharing with anyone who listened stories of his past. I encouraged him to write and to try to make sense of all that he learned and experienced, but he could not get away from longing "to be active". Eventually his importance faded and the university cast him out like it did its shreded documents. They may have done that anyway but he would have at least taken with him something more than a black lung.

I also met another fellow who kept accummulating books, documents and all the material culture he could. But he never wrote, rarely shared what he was learning with anyone, and he was so difficult to associate with that he left almost no legacy, no new way of thinking, and no body of work that could be poured over to learn something more than the obvious in our field.

It is also important for young scholars and intellectuals to know that being smarter, better trained and more passionate does not yet make them truly great scholars or intellectuals. That takes time and it takes going through all the phases necessary to get to a point in which things that come out of your mouth or your computer have been weighed, tested, and refined over time. Of course, being old and having done something for many years guarantees little except social security and medicare.

At this stage of my life I see my work as only beginning to scratch the surface in terms of depth and profoundness. Part of the reason is that I have spent too much time learning a profession to which I came late, and trying to overcome a sense of inferiority for not having gone to a more prestigious school and not having the type of mentors considered masters in their fields. So, sometimes l've belabored my intellectual work, and given that I prize all the opportunities I get, I tend to "stay" too long and thus slow my maturing. The fact that I feel twenty years younger than I am, I sometimes trick myself. But then I feel the aches and pains of the physical self and those of the intellectual one and I am reminded that I must move on.

For this reason, I will be droppping much of what I do now at the end of this academic year and dedicate myself to seeking deeper knowledge and learning to be more profound in my intellect. This means I will eventually drop this blog, stop presenting in some conferences and doing lectures for pay that often come my way. I don't plan to get "old" too soon, and there is, in my view, still a long and exciting road yet to travel, but I do hope to mature intellectually and otherwise before I start looking twenty years older than I am. I may never get there but at least my carcass on the road to intellectual wisdom might get me some sympathy.

Some thoughts on a New Semester in the Academy

The end of summer is the beginning of a new year for most of us who work in the academy. It seems that it takes us at least the three months of summer to get over what we experienced in the first five months of the year, which often carried some of the lingering effects of the previous fall semester.

Still, it is wonderful to prepare for a new semester and hope that the students will continue to be a reason why one teaches at a university. For returning students, there is always the hope that this year's professors--or adjuncts--will be as good or better than the last semester. There is much hope and if the year is good it lasts the whole academic year. If it is not, you can wait for the next semester, and if that is bad, then you are up the proverbial "creek without a paddle".

Nonetheless, the American university--and that is the only one I know--is a place where one can learn much and experience even more. If we just confine ourselves to our classes--whether teaching or being taught--we lose out. Even as universities change and become more of "job trainers" there is still much that can be learned and experienced in those acres of buildings, labs and athletic fields. We make a mistake when we only go there to do what we came to do, if that "to do" is confined to get training for a job or to get our paycheck.

Too many students today are utilitarian and they miss the value of an education. The obsession on getting a job after the degree is killing this country's intellect. I understand that "enjoying learning for the sake of learning" can be seen as elitist, a possibility only for those who have money or a family job waiting on the outside. And in some ways it is, but precisely because it is makes it valuable. Those who take time to learn are those who learn better. Those who are stressed are those who learn less and rarely ever make the connections to all that learning provides including a good job.

It is an unfair reality for those students who have to work long hours in order to go to school. And the mounting financial burden of college is killing a lot of learning, but as students and teachers we cannot let that reality dominate our experiences. Learning is important and we must find a way to impart it--as teachers--and to get it as students. With few exceptions most poor students still have a few hours to spend walking around their campuses to see the exhibits and museums, to listen to lectures, to read a new book in the library, etc. And every faculty member, no matter how many tests and papers they have to grade, has a few hours to mentor, converse and motivate a student or two.

We need to maintain our vitality and our love for learning. Sometimes the university can be a terrible place if you feel isolated and out of place. Yet, we need to empower ourselves with all that it can offer so that we can validate our own existence within it. No place has a many resources and presents as many possibilities as a college or university. But we often not take advantage because of so many of the issues that surround it. I have had colleagues who "run away" from the university as soon as their classes are gone, and it makes me wonder what they think they bring or take to the institution or their students.

I feel an urgent need to remind people of why they come to the university. Maybe I feel this way because having to be there for my partially disabled wife doesn't allow me all the time that I want to spend at the university.

Ironically, I write this knowing that I will leave the university before retirement age to pursue other interests. Still, I have been around universities in some capacity for the last 28 years and it has been, for the most part, a great experience. Even if a significant part of that time has been spent battling administrators, insensitive policies, a lack of diversity, and an engrained condescension toward working class communities that often surround these ivory towers. Still, the university is one of humanity's greatest inventions and we need to act as if we understand this. And as the activists of the Plan de Santa Barbara said decades ago, "we are here to make the university work for us". That should be our attitude, but it shouldn't keep us from taking in what it has to offer.
                       

Teaching Requires Training and Experience

This week I was talking to my department chair about a course I will be teaching this fall that has few students enrolled currently. In thinking about a change of focus to try to get more students interested I commented that I put a lot of emphasis on writing in this course, to which he quickly responded, "we all do". I was taken back as it sounded a bit defensive. My intent was not to imply that I did more than others, I simply meant to say that I could incorporate other topics because the point of the course was to get students to write a major final essay in history.

A few hours later, feeling a bit ornery, I quietly said to myself, "yes, but not all of us write, and some of 'us' taken twenty years to write a book". After some serious repenting, I thought more about his comment and concluded that we often assume we know what we are doing because we are teaching it(BTW this is not the case with my dept. chair). From my earliest days in the department I struggled with people teaching courses that required a "publishable essay" when they were not publishing at all themselves.

Anyone in academia knows that we are often called to do things we are not trained or even qualified to do. The joke amongst us is that we are okay as long as we stay two weeks ahead of the students in the readings. As scholars we are suppose to know enough about methodology and historical construction to be able to teach a number of lower level courses outside our immediate fields. Once we get beyond that level we are out of our league. So why is it that we can all teach writing and research if we don't do it ourselves?

I know there a few people who can--let's be clear about that--but for the most part those who do not write are rarely qualified to teach it. Some professor out there is probably thinking, " I teach six course a semester, have committee duty, office hours, etc., and you expect me to write". The answer is yes. I don't mean publish major research findings in the top academic or literary journals, but do write. Writing is a skill and when you do it right and do it often you become aware of the intricasies of the written word, and come to understand the pitfalls of trying to put a point across.

 But there is another point I want to make. We also have to be qualified to teach anything and qualification usually comes with training and with practice. There are instances where experience trumps education. I have a friend who was a top Chicano writer a decade ago. He began writing while he was a brick layer. He was a prolific writer and got himself published in small Chicano literary journals and then began publishing in small presses. He became so popular--and several dissertations were written on his work--that he got a job at a community college teaching writing and Spanish. Then a few years later, he was hired as a "humanist" at the University of Arizona. At the time and until he retired he had no college degree much less an advance degree in literature.

But he was far from uneducated. He read profusely, getting everything he could find on writing, literature, philosophy, the Spanish language, folklore, culture, and the list goes on. He also use to frequent a small store that sold sandwiches and engage in intellectual debates and discussion with college professors who also hung out there. This is where he made the impressions that got him his academic appointments.

But recently, I read about a long-since retired faculty member who did not get tenure because she had no advanced degree. Her claim to expertise in her field was that she spent a lot of time in the community organzing and since she was teaching about the people she organized, she felt qualified to receive tenure. Those who know me know that I'm all for the barrio people telling their own story and that I tend to be critical of people stuck in the ivory tower who know little about the people they write about. Still, my thought was that having been warned to get more training she was rightfully dismissed for not attempting to do so.

Why supportive in one case and not the other? Did I think that an experienced male without a degree is better than a female with organizing experience and at least a bachelor's degree? Not at all. He was experienced directly in what he was teaching, and he had shown his abilities to publish, and had done so more often than some of those who became his colleagues. He was also a fiction writer which often calls for a different kind of research and different style of preparation. Despite the proliferation of writing programs, most good writers learn by writing and experiencing life, not through academic training or degrees.

The other person was engaged in teaching sociology, history, literature, etc without any advanced training in any of these, and her writings were mostly pamphlets that spoke to the needs of the barrio. I admire the latter, and still admire her work in developing women's studies, but she lacked training in methodology, theory, research fundamentals, and she was not doing research to further the field. Worse, she saw no need to continue her training. Her initial value should not have been questioned but no one can stand still and expect to remain relevant, especially a teacher.

To be able to teach one has to be trained--and in exceptional cases train themselves--and one has to have experience doing what one teaches. How to get the traininng is obvious. But how does one "experience" history, sociology or literature? You do so by researching, presenting and writing; by becoming involved in knowing the subject on the ground. How do we experience civil war history, Greek military campaigns, Islamic medicine? We research, go to museums, visit historical spots, handle the instruments (or guns), go to re-enactments, and write about the topic as much and as often as we can. Academic training usually requires some of that but often not enough. We usually depend on the person to do it because of their passion for the subject. Unfortunately, some people go into the academy because it is a "cushier" job and surely more interesting than say accounting. Even worse, there are some people who begin with  passion but lose it and then simply regurgitate what they learned years before.

I have great respect for what happens in the academy. There are fewer more exciting places and what we do there has a lot of impact, much of it positive, on the larger society; but we need to do a better job of training people and have higher expectations of them as teachers. Every future professor should be allowed to teach while in graduate training, and we should have courses that specifically train a scholar to teach. We should not hire people to teach unles they've had internships and temporary slots in which they've taught. And we should expect all of these people to bring a writing portfolio even if not all the work within it is published.

The reality is that most academic departments do a terrible job of training their young scholars to teach, and an even worse job of helping them to publish. Since so many tenured professor were never taught to teach and/or write they are often afraid to show their deficiencies to their younger colleagues, or they think everyone ought to do it on their own just as they did. This attitude does no favors to the students or our young colleagues.

And things may get worse if we continue to replace full time facutly with adjuncts who have neither the resources or the time to "perform their disciplines" or to write about them. We are guaranteeing that our students will learn less even as they pay more.

A final thought: I have never believed that student evaluations really measure the worth or the abilities of a teacher. Yet, so many universities are going toward that method to evaluate their faculty. What they do is not really empower their students to demand a better education but simply provide administrators more control over the classroom since they can use--and often do--these evaluations as swords over a faculty member's head. Teaching is more than pleasing students, or running a "tight ship" in the classroom. It is about imparting knowledge, getting students to enter unknown and sometimes uncomfortable circumstances, and it is about equipping them with the skills and knowledge to empower themselves. Sometimes you do all of that and they still hate you.

As one former colleague loved to say, students often don't know enough to contribute to their education, and it is incumbent upon us to teach them. But we can't unless we are trained and experienced.

A "Discussion on Race": Another Naive Suggestion for Progress

The "Call" by some for a discussion on race in this country since Obama was elected and particularly after the Trayvon Martin verdict seems to me a bit naive. After all, what is it that whites--the ones who are suppose to learn from this discussion--not know about racism in American society? They know we once enslaved black people and then developed Jim Crow after they were freed; that we took the Southwest from Mexico because we saw them as unfit to occupy the land; that we interned Japanese Ameicans because of xenophobia and in order to take away their property, and that profiling is something that policemen do all the time. Conservative politicians know all of this and they still block any kind of civil rights legislation that comes their way, and they promote voter IDs to limit minority voting and most of their "budget cuts" come on the backs of people of color.

Do those advocates for a "discussion on race" really think that the people at the Weekly Standard, Fox News, or that Rush Limbaugh or Glen Beck are really going to change their views about people of color? Do they believe that those who fear Latinos taking their job are going to call for the legalization of 11 million of them, or that they will be happy having them sing the national anthemn at sporting events? Do they believe that Republican House members are going to change their voting habits if they "knew" that American society is still a society based on some elements of white supremacy?

In our divided society, there are many on the wrong side of the race issue and a large number of others who remain "neutral" because they fear true equality means losing the advantages that white supremacy provides them even if they do find those advantages distasteful. Talking about it will change few of those.

We don't need a discussion on race. We need jobs, real affirmative action, better housing for the poor, better education--which neither side seems to understand how to get--legalization and a host of other things. People will be treated as equals once they are actually equal in many of the things that society considers important for the exercise of citizenship.

Republicans had their "discussion on race" when it came to Latino voters and so far the only thing it did was to rile up the racists and the Latino-haters in the party to become even more resistant to immigration reform. The party of stupid only became...

Democrats are not blameless given how they made sure that in their version of immigration reform businesses get most of the benefits, future "legal" Latino workers get even less protections than they do now, and the president continues to deport them in record numbers, and break-up families by the hundreds of thousands. When the president asked Senator Schummer to head the immigration reform efforts for Democrats, it became clear to many of us that it would turn out to be a bonus for businesses on the back of workers.

We don't need a discussion on race, what we need is for those who believe in the progress of people of color to work harder, compromise less on fundamental rights, and put forward legislation that will make this country better. If we are going to have a discussion on race let's have it on the senate and house floors, but let it be about legislation that actually makes a difference and not water-down bills that continue to keep people of color as second-class citizens.

And those who proclaim themselves as leaders of our communities need to come up with better ideas and stop simply creating "show" to get themselves on cable news, and get jobs as punditry. Much of the old civil rights establishment has run out of ideas, and while some deserve to be honored for their past accomplishment, as a group they are becoming irrelevant except to get their friends and family jobs. We need leaders with character who are not willing to settle for "the best at the moment". There has not been a single piece of legislation in the last decade that has not been mostly compromised away. We need new rules in the Senate to stop making compromises that protect one party or another when they are in the minority. We need to force senators to actually filibusters instead of threatening to do so. We need the House to have rules that allows pieces of legislation that have a lot of support to be voted on.

 We need to develop a new re-districting plan for congressional districts that do not gerrymander to keep one party in power. And we need to change the way we celebrate American holidays so that they reflect the truth about our history and not venerate mostly one group of people.

In the process of doing all of that we will get our "discussion on race" in America but it will actually mean something and not be just another naive attempt to bring people together who have actually chosen not to come together. I believe in "coming and reasoning together" but I also believe that the process is not more important than making a difference in the lives of people who truly need help. Those who over-emphasize the process believe in a mediocre version of democracy and equality.

Trayvon, Zimmerman and Civil Rights Politics

Let me begin this post by saying that the decision to find George Zimmerman "not guilty" came as no surprise to me. While I did not fixate on the case as some did I did listen to some of the testimony and read up on the case. My first thought was what a terrible job the prosecution did, though I might add that the actual first reaction was what a terrible job in selecting the jury. Second (or third) was why the 2nd degree murder charge. It was going to be difficult to get a conviction without some serious eye-witness and the prosecution had none.

My sense is that if they had charged man slaughter from the beginning they could probably have been able to build a solid case and he would now be facing 30 years in jail. Coming in with the lesser charge at the last minute seemed to reflect to me--and I guess the jury--that the prosecution was desperate and unsure that it had proven its case. Finally, the defense had a game plan and executed it well, while the prosecution only wanted to make it a case about a guy who couldn't keep his story straight and was a "wannabe cop".

All that said, let me say that the case reflects a lot about the stage of American society today. Nowhere did I find an honest appraisal of the case. Fox had Trayvon the aggressor from the beginning, and MSNBC had Zimmerman as a pathological killer simply out looking to murder a black child. It quickly became a black vs white thing rather than the case of a man shooting a teenager in a gun-happy state. Did race play a part in the killing? Of course, so much of what happens in this country has to do in some form or another with race, but not all racial incidents are discrimination cases.

One thing that we can learn from this killing is that we need to make sure we know what fights to pick as civil rights cases. This was not a civil rights case even if it was a black teenager being killed by a "white hispanic" man. Not every confrontation between a person of color and a white person involves the violation of someone's civil rights. What was it that civil libertarians were fighting for: the right for a person to walk down the street without being followed by a neighborhood watch guy? Was it another fight against profiling? The fact is civil rights cases are about the individual and the government or the minority individual and the larger society not about two individuals.

The Trayvon/Zimmerman was about a white man killing a black man. Is that worse than a black man killing a black man as is happening by the hundreds in Chicago and Detroit? Or worse than a latino killing a Latino as it happens too frequently in the major urban areas in the Southwest? A racially-motivated killing--if that is what it was and we don't fully know--is not a civil rights case. Al Sharpton and other black leaders should have understood that. If it was a proven fact that neighborhood watch white guys are killing blacks or minorities indiscriminately across the country and no one is doing anything about it, then you have a case. If minorities are being jailed for using "stand your ground" and whites are not, then you have a case. Civil rights cases are about the systematic treatment of a large group of people and nowhere in the trial deliberations or even in the accompanying analysis was there any discussion that the Martin case involved any such situation.

One could argue that blacks are systematically being mistreated, but what would have been the "civil rights" outcome of a Zimmerman conviction? That black men have the right to walk a street in the rain eating Skittles and drinking Arizona drinks without being killed? They already have that right and 99 of 100 young black men do it every day--though Skittles and Arizona tea may not be their preferred snack--unless they are walking at night in large urban areas like Chicago. Where are the marches to stop that kind of killing? Why is it that killing a black person is only a big issue when he or she is killed by a white person? Is the life of black person only important if you connect it in some way to a white person?

The real civil rights question of today is why people of color have still not been empowered to change their own reality. While there are hundred of groups working at the local level to change attitudes and to empower people, too many national leaders are simply jumping on hot issues instead of doing the work that is necessary to change the status quo. We often forget that many of yesterday's civil/human rights leaders that we honor today were as much about empowering their people to change their lives as they were about changing the laws. They understood that if the laws were changed, things would still not change if people did not empower themselves.

In today's civil rights culture it is too much about what society can do for the person instead of how the person can take advantage of opportunities, or how they can fight against the obstacles still around. Civil rights struggles were never about solving every problem, only about eliminating those dejure ones that did not allow people to empower themselves. Give them the vote, desegregate the schools, end officially-sanctioned police brutality, teach then their history, and recognize them as human beings, etc. That was the goal. It was only partially achieved because the next phase was going to be the hardest, getting people to empower themselves by voting, going to school, taking bad cops to court, reading about their history and accepting themselves as full human beings. In many of our barrios and ghettoes that is still not happening enough.

There is still much to be done about poverty, discrimination, bad schooling, racial teachings, etc. And little of it had to do with this case. Trayvon was not a disadvantaged youth living in the heart of the ghetto with no chances for uplift. Convicting Zimmerman would have given closure to the family, might have called into question the idea of armed neighborhood watch guys, maybe created a groundswell against the gun culture in Florida or even punish a guy for doing the wrong thing, but it would not have done an iota of difference in the civil rights struggle.

The fact is that in the last study done that I know about, blacks were found to be killing whites at a much higher rate than the opposite. That isn't because black people hate whites or they are more violence-proned but rather the result of what most of us already know--poverty, unemployment, illiteracy, discrimination and what is causes: broken families, teenage mothers and fathers, unemployed, angry young men, etc. That is a real civil rights concern and it often gets lost everytime we have a case like this.

Like Cockroaches: Mexicans Spreading Across the Continent

Texas Farmworkers Union head Antonio Orendain use to say that Mexicans were like cockroaches, no matter how much you tried you couldn't get rid of them. For those who have never lived in Texas, you might not fully appreciate the comparison, but those of us who live or have lived there understand that fighting those critters is a battle that will end when you go to your grave.

If Congressional Republican lawmakers understood this, they would hurry up and pass a true immigration reform bill in the House and finally settle the issue. For too long there have been those who believe that they can build fences, round-up Mexicans and punish employers and somehow eliminate what use to be called the "Mexican problem" in the 1930s. And yet, done repeatedly over the last 100 years, it has not worked though it has brought hardship to families and communities. To use an old Chicano slogan, "this is our land". Mexicans, Mexican Americans and their cousins the Latinos are native to this land, not because they were born here or their ancestors lived here--though they did in places like the Southwest--but because they "live the land".

They work the land, whether it is planting and picking the crops, cutting and canning them, slaughtering and cutting up animals, sweeping the blood or the dirt off the floors in the butcher shops and factories, trimming the trees, mowing the lawns, picking up the trash, designing the landscapes, erecting homes and office buildings, driving the school buses or tractor trailers, and policing the streets, or even manning the borders. Mexicans are doing those jobs that fewer and fewer white people are doing, and thus becoming more and more important to maintaining the pace of this country.

They are also upholding the traditions long held sacred in this land. When I was in McLean, Virginia a few years ago, it was obvious that in that affluent and liberal community the only ones that ate turkey during Thanksgiving were Latinos. And a few years ago, the overwhelming number of parents dressed up in Halloween costumes parading their trick or treating children through the Provo mall for candy were Mexicans and Latinos. And today, most American religions that are growing are doing so because their pews are filling up with Spanish-speakers. The Hispanic Evangelical Association is 15-million strong while the Mormons will soon be Latiino-majority, while most of the Catholics that go to church are Mexican and Latinos. And the last time I heard some form of tamales was replacing ham and turkey as the main dishes during the Holidays

There are many issues still to be resolved and the debate about what it will mean to have Mexicans--the vast majority of the Latino population--be such a dominant force in American society is still to be had, but it is an undisputable fact that they will be a powerful impact in the social and political landscape of the United States. The more conservative politicians resist this reality the greater the alienation of many of these Mexican Americans from mainstream society. The less they will believe in American ideals. No doubt that even in the best of situations this will happen given the historical prejudices this country has had against its neighbors from the south. But things could be worse.

Making 11 million Mexicans and Latinos permanent residents and then citizens will change American society only for the good. They are already here and they are "living the land" and the only thing that will change is that some of them and their kids will move up in the economic ladder and become leaders in this country. The bad is already here--they are illegal, break the law to survive, are an unknown population, and they are frustrated. Fixing their status will resolve much of this. It won't make things worse.

Will it bring more of them? Probably, but not in the numbers we have seen in the past. There aren't enough Central Americans in the world to fill up New York City, and in Mexico the demographics are changing in such a manner that the country will soon start needing every worker to maintain its own society. The reality is that the anti-immigration solutions came too late and they soon won't have a problem to solve.

 The coming Mexican reality is already changing the way we see our history as Chicano historians are expanding our knowledge of the West, agriculture, unionization, military history, and the law. We are discovering that Mexicans and their Mexican American cousins are responsible for many of our policies and laws even if they were simply made to keep them at bay. More important, the history of Mexicans and Latinos is obliverating the notion of a black/white history as the only dominant narrative of our past.

The Latino voter has become the big prize in American politics, and their children will one day dominate the political offices in certain parts of the country. Many Mexican Americans are simply Americans who have been left out of the mainstream of this country both by government policies and by their own resistance to entering the mainstream devoid of their culture and way of looking at things.

While Mexican Americans are not a panacea for what ails American society they do provide a sense of hope for a society that seems to have lost its ability to pass laws, to respect its neighbors, that is gun-obsessed, is becoming childless, and which has trouble dealing with its history. American society has been refreshed periodically by immigrant "waves" and never before has American society been in need of a "refreshing" then now. 

Congressional Republicans may yet block any resolution to our "immigration problem" this year but they will not write the final chapter on the Latino-ization of this country. It will happen sooner or later and it is best that it occurs now. Maybe Mexicans will finally outlive the cockroach. Maybe not.

Getting "Older" in your Profession

I have been quite busy the last few weeks trying to finish a manuscript to submit to a press and have not had time to write my blog. At the same time I've seen so many ex-students and other young scholars publishing and submitting papers in a frenzy. It is both heartwarming and incredibly annoying as I contemplate the fact that I will never be that productive myself again. Time takes its toll, though it is not simply a lessening of physical stamina.

The biggest challenge to getting older in your profession, and here by "older" I mean more experienced and better, is that the scholarly problems become less simple and so do the goals. You begin to mine for a deeper meaing so past explanations do not satisfy, and former words do not convey the newer thoughts. The trail becomes tougher because it is steeper.It doesn't happen to everyone as some people continue to publish work that qualifies as a first book. And this applies not only to academics but also poets, essayists, playwrites and others who write often. It is easy to work out a "formula" and stick to it without giving it a second thought about maturing and doing something better.

Of course, as you seek to get better you confront the reality that life and physical self have changed. You might have a better situation at work or in your own business, but it doesn't mean that all things have stayed the same. What you did to get your initial respect and titles is not sufficient anymore. This, of course, is not a dilemma that waits for age. It can begin occuring as soon as you leave graduate school or simply the university. What seemed so wonderful and got you accolades as a young scholar,or  writer means less in your next phase of life. And nothing get as old fast as being a child prodigy or someone with "potential".

This may be why the academy and the publishing world is full of "one book wonders" and others who seemed to have faded long before their time. Or the third category which is that of a scholar or writer who is "productive," that everyone knows is "good" and whose book you "should have" but who few people read even after they buy their book. Undoubtedly, this third category is probably a good/bad situation. It is good because your work gets published and bought ($) and your resume gets longer. But it is not good because people will say, "yes, I have that book. But no, I haven't read it."

You will be mentioned as one of those scholars who is productive and who contributes, but in the discussion of what is important and a must read your work will rarely come up in a serious vein. In that case, it means you continue to be the same writer of years past who has not charted new spaces to explore or found new words to express his/her thoughts. We all know these people. They are there and their names are good when someone asks you to "name a few" whether its because you are trying to diversify your faculty or trying to get more people in your genre to be published. And then, you realize that you haven't read their latest work or the two previous.

Getting older brings the temptation to rehash the previous and to rewalk the familiar paths to gleam something that you might have missed. We "use new filters," find "new contexts" and re-emphasize what has been overlooked. All of that is good except for when it is simply an excuse not to do the work necessary to publish new things. I know, I've been tempted several times in the last few years. And there have been times when what I can "re-do" could actually be important, but so far I am not willing to get into a rehash pit that will swallow me up, and basically end my career.

Does that mean that there not things that we can mine that might consume our whole career? No. I know that some people become experts on an event, a person or idea and spend their whole lives writing about it. They usually get some specialized endowed chair (if they are good) and end up "editing" a collection of some kind. And that is very important, but it is not for everyone and even those who do it are not always that good. Most will never have an influence beyond their immediate subfield and over time their work becomes stale. Of course, that applies to most of us. Few break through and remain in front of the pack their whole lives. And that is okay. We all need our 15 seconds in the limelight followed by long periods of time in obscurity.

But as we go from one phase to another in our career, even if its from grad school to our first job, or from our first short story to the novel, or the second poetry collection we should remember that each phase has its own "measure" and requires our growth in thought and our evolvement in our vocabulary and our writing style. It doesn't mean abandoning our "voice" or making radical changes to our style, but it does require that we improve our skills and our thinking abilities. Sometimes the next work doesn't pan out or is not as good as the previous one. That is okay, it happens to the best, but hopefully its failure is because we tried to do a little bit more and not because we stayed too close to the beaten path.

Knowing how much to evolve and how much to keep is something that we learn over time if we put attention to our skill development and our intellectual pursuit. It also means keeping our bodies and minds in as best condition as we can. But that is a topic for another day. 

Remembering a Certain Nobility in the Chicano Movement

As I was reworking my memoir I came upon a section in which I dissect the Chicano Movement's impact on my life, and I was reminded of why at a gut level I was more partial to it than the traditional civil right movement. One of the things that I found difficult to bear in the traditional civil rights movement--which in this case would be the black civil right movement--was its concern with not offending white society.

I loved Martin Luther King's inspiring rhetoric and I often agreed that everyone needed to be called to be part of the struggle, but there were times in which his and other civil right leaders' rhetoric was simply wrong historically, and said to appease the white man. I am just as troubled today when President Obama speaks of how this nation "has always been just" when it deals with the rest of the world, or how our actions have "always had the highest ideals". Does the man really believe that? If he does, then he misread American history. I don't deny that there have been--as in every nation--great leaders and great moments. And I admit that no one is perfect and we should be careful how we judge human beings as it is with the same measure that we will be judged, and maybe we won't do as well either. But I think that we only truly change when we are honest with ourselves about our history.

Mormons are currently going through a phase of revisiting and reanalyzing their history and it is not comfortable at all, but it is clearing up a lot of bad history. When we deal with history as it is, it serves as a pruning phase for our ideals and our goals. In American society we rarely do it at the "public level"--mostly in academic works--and in these times there are even fewer courageous enough to try to do it. President Obama came into office talking as if he wanted to do it but has so far failed miserably at it. But then, if we had cloely listened to his 2004 "blue states, red states" speech, we would have known why. As inspiring as it was, it was fundamentally wrong; maybe not in its aspirations but surely in its assessment of American history. America has always been a divided nation whether by religion, politics, class, race, etc.

The Chicano critique was that it had always been a nation consumed by materialism, too much individualism, too warlike, too arrogant, too selfish, and too anti-others not of this land, and even many within its borders. I was reminded, as I wrote this, about an article I read several years ago about the agency in charge of using American dollars to help developing countries deal with their divided citizenries. The article added that most if not all the solutions the agency suggested--protection of minorities, power-sharing among the different groups, gender equality, land distribution and fair economic play--were all ideas rejected or never implemented in this country. It reminded me of the Chicano critique that America was a beacon whose light often hid the horrid darkness that lay behind it.

Chicanismo would be a failed political experiment--though much good came from it--but its critique of American society was pretty accurate. It questioned American ideals, white people's motives, and this nation's solutions to the world's problems. It's critique was never truly ideological but rather communitarian. A poster that circulated during those times had a picture of a hand and carried a caption that said, "una mano no se lava sola" (one hand can't wash itself). A cartoon that came out of a Chicano Movement group in San Diego, had the drawing of a tatooed cholo who looked doped-up and in a caption asked the question, "Hey stupid, what have you done for your people lately?"

The Movement was a call for everyone to take responsibility for making the barrios a better place to live, not to leave. It called for personal responsibility and for being responsible for others. It was not about having the "same opportunities" as others and simply running with them as some in American society teach us even today. We were about building a blossoming community way before today's progressives' urban gardens, ride sharing, block parties, and community art.

Chicanismo was about taking care of the youth and keeping families together. And if you believed in that it didn't matter if you were gay or straight, moreno or muy blanco, whether you spoke good Spanish or not. Chicanismo failed because it had many contradictions within it, and failed to address many internal problems--including those of gender equality and individual goals--but its aspirations were more noble that today's politics and its critiques less self-serving than those of many of today's professional civil libertarians who depend on their proximity to power for their "careers".

The critique continues to resonate with me because it parallels the critique I have about American society as a religious person who believes in community while respecting individual privacy and those much needed individual yearnings. While I was a "victim" of Chicano Movement politics, I simpy accepted it as the result of the frailties of man and the turmoil of secular politics, and not the aspirations of a people in struggle. Yes, I was naive but it was better than being callous or worse, fully gullible to an unfair society.

As I do research for my biography on one of the great intellectual precursors of that Movement I am reminded that in my youth I believed in something quite inspirational, and something that meshed well with my Mormon communitarian ideals. I may add that both are still besieged by the ugly side of American Exceptionalism, though admittedly both were/are in one form or another a byproduct. Revisiting the Chicano Movement reminds me that we are constantly in struggle to find the best in ourselves, even when we have to search for it in the annals of history.

Talent Matters & so does Experience

As I get ready to go research my next scholarly book, a biography on Octavio Romano one of the intellectual precursors of the Chicano Movement, I realize that I'm the most confident that I have been before a big project. In some ways this should be my toughest book and yet I don't feel the usual apprehensions about my ability to do it, and do it well. In fact, I am ready to state that this will be my best book. Why? Most probably because after six books I think that I now have balanced out all my skills, and nothing I will do in this book will be new or experimental though the parts will be arranged in a way that will be creative and different. I now consider myself a master at what and how I do my work. This doesn't mean I don't still have worked to do to refine my craft nor that I should simply coast. But it does mean that I can have confidence in the things I do and can approach a project with the sense that all creative roads are opened to me.

Experience brings these feeligs of confidence. But those experiences have also confirmed in my mind that I have "talent for the game".And talent is important, possibly the most important part of being a writer. Some might argue this point and they might be right if we believed that the only thing that separates one writer from another is how many pages one writes a day, and how willing they are to rewrite and re-edit their work. But without talent all the writing and rewriting would still not produce a good work. Hard work and experience will take even a small amount of talent a ways, but it will not allow you to produce a truly good work. For that you need talent.

This may sound like a depressing point for some if they don't see themselves as a Danielle Steel or a Truman Capote. And it probaly should be if they have no talent. But my sense is that most of the people who write and even bother to read this blog do have talent, maybe even at an undiscovered level. So I'm preaching to the choir although at this stage some are ready for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and others for the barbershop quartet down the block.

For me, talent comes in one-size-fits-all quantity. That is that when people have talent, they all start out equally but then talent is developed according to time, effort and experience. The last three are like yeast to the talent dough. Once yeast is applied we may say the endproduct is bigger and yet the amount of dough has not changed, it has simply been expanded. And yet we can metaphorically call the endproduct--the bread, let's say--bigger, in the same way that we can say someone has more talent than someone else. Some people have no talent to write something beyond a grammatically correct essay. All  can learn to write to communicate but not all can write to entertain, inspire or to motivate. That is the domain of the real writer.

I've said nothing new here but I wanted to emphasize the point that writing is a talent that can be discovered, nurtured and developed but it is not one that can be "created". I say this because I often run across people who want to write great works and I see almost no discernible talent in them. I'm not being mean or dismissive, just practical. There are things I would like to do and some of it requires a level of talent that I am not willing to spend the years trying to find out if I have. It saves a lot of time if we are willing to accept that there are things we cannot do. It is also possible that we have some measure of talent but the required time to develop it to do something actually good is not worth the investment. "To each man/woman is given a talent," so says scripture, and we know some who seem to have gotten a whole lot of it, but we also know there are talents we don't have.

And talent without experience will rarely be developed to the point of doing good work.

Looking Forward to Summer

In a lighter vein than recent writings conveyed, I want to talk about some things I will do this summer. First, I will be visiting family in Texas while I engage in what probably will be research for my last book while in the academy. I love visiting family because they have always been my first priority. When my wife and I had younger children we sacrificed financially to be there at their little league games, plays, school activities, and to "set up and arrange things" in church so they would have a great experience in their activities. Every Fourth of July or other holidays, my wife and I would open the church building and invite all the kids over to spend a day playing sports, dancing, learning crafts or just hanging out. Most of the working class families rarely had the day off so we became the communal babysitters. I can't say that my kids always enjoyed it but surely Alex and I did.

Alex and I also love to travel. While she is now partially disabled and can't be in the car for too long, Alex enjoys seeing the scenery and stopping at different places to take pictures or buy "little things". In those moments we talk about both simple things and about things we have read in the most recent book, or seen in some documentary or news program. It is also a time in which I design my book projects because I have no better listener--and critic I may add--than my dear companion of 40 years. Her companionship on these trips has made them a wonderful time. My colleagues go to Venice, Brussells, Tokyo, etc for their research trips while I go to Edna, Crystal City, Beeville, and...you get the point. Without her the Church's Fried Chicken and the cheap motels would be unbearable.

Years ago we had a grandson who accompanied us to all these trips and the few cross-country ones we took and made life even more fun by forcing us to stop at every zoo and museum along the way. It is also great visiting him again, now that he lives with his mom, and having long conversations. This summer we plan to write our first short story together. What a wonderful thing to look forward to. He will--so he says--also take his grandfather "to school" on the tennis courts. Of course I will also get to see five other grandchildren, two daughters and a son-in-law and have a ball of a time with them. Each one of them is a joy and present me with opportunities for learning and fun. There are two other tennis players in the field, a cheerleader, and two younger ones that can wear me out while giving lots of joy. The only sad thing is that I will be leaving four other grandchildren here at home but I've been enjoying them this whole year.

All of this will simply mean a better research project because I research and write more when I'm happy. I plan to finish my memoir this summer. Three years ago several presses rejected them citing a number of issues. Just recently, one editor said it had been a "mistake" that had haunted her for three years. I think that when it comes out there will be others who will probably feel the same (or so I think). But in all honesty, I think it will be much better now, and a number of "issues" that prevented it from getting published have been resolved. As that editor said, in her apology, "I was a bit naive and didn't realize what you meant to the field and that you were a big part of that (Chicano) movement". Okay, a little bit of an overkill but it made me feel good.

I will also be looking around for a place to call home in Texas. There is a good possibility that I will be moving back after I retire here, and yet I have to admit that I love Utah. I'm made many friends and I just love the landscape. And in all honesty, while I like change, I don't like thinking about it. After many years away I admit that I am more Utahn than Texan but I still have lots of  family and friends in the Lone Star state.

This month three very special people in my department retired and it is getting to where the overwhelming majority of the colleagues I knew when I came here will soon be gone. It is strange to see the old go and the new come in. While I always try to strengthen the bonds with the new faculty, I admit that I feel a bit strange without the old colleagues. So, going to Texas will provide me an opportunity to think about the future and what I can do to keep building the bonds with the younger faculty, all whom are great people. The beauty of working at the BYU history department is that the colleagues are respectful, kind and don't spend their time undermining the other people in the department, as it often happens in other universities. After a good, relaxing summer, it always good to come back to start the new semester. For some reason, I feel like the coming academic year will be good, but only after a great summer.

Romney, Shallow Waters, and Big Fish

I recently heard the Commencement speech that Mitt Romney gave to the graduates of Southern Virginia University, titled "Launch Out in to the Deep" which is based on counsel that Jesus gave to his apostles. As the story goes, his apostles had been out fishing and they had not caught any fish. Upon seeing them, Jesus told them "launch out in to the deep and cast your nets" which they did and came back with a bumper haul of fish. The speech itself was not particularly impressive and the counsel was typical of commencement addresses. Still, the title intrigued me.

Too often, as Romeny reminded the graduates, we spend most of our lives in "shallow waters" hoping to make the "big catch" in a place where big fish rarely swim. And I know that as liberals too often we are ready to point out that the reason we stay in shallow waters is because we have no boats, no nets, and the rich guy on the shore probably owns the sea and doesn't allow us to fish without extracting a lot of money. But putting aside these probabilities, it is good to remind ourselves how often we retreat from deep (and troubled) waters when we should go forward.

In Puerto Rico there was the legend of the "Dutchmen"--developed during a time when dutch pirates roamed the Caribbean--and according to some this  made Puerto Ricans insurales, individuals afraid to venture out, thus insulating them from the rest of the world. Puerto Rican intellectuals like Juan Flores have debunk much of this theory and have shown how other factors kept Puerto Ricans isolated from the larger world. Nonetheless, there is some truth to the myth--if the details themselves are not. And in some ways, many of us are insulados or isolated within our own worlds.

Being afraid to launch into deep waters is a common fear. And no matter how far we go out into the ocean of our lives and our professions there is always still a vast ocean and each mile further out brings its own fears. Over time, every piece of ocean we navigate becomes "shallow" simply because we are so familiar with it and we have mostly conquered all that lies within. And the catches become smaller.

In an upcoming movie, a father tells his son that there is no such thing as fear but rather it is only a human reaction to real dangers that lurk out in the world. Now, as a guy with lots of fears it is hard to swallow that idea but yet I believe that it is mostlyy true. So often what we fear is the unknown, or the situation which takes the control remote out of our hands. We like to line up our ducks and make sure that all loose ends are tied and that whatever endeavor we engage in will be a success. Of course, we can be the other extreme in which we plan for nothing and find ourselves unprepared, thus unwilling, to venture out in the deep. And in that case, it is probably best if we do not.

Launching out into the deep is simply about stretching ourselves, developing new skills or enhancing our old ones, meeting new people or re-engaging with old friends, and testing ourselves in unfamiliar places. Not all the" deep-sea" explorations result in magnificent catches or discovered treasures. Sometimes they are simply ways of knowing that some dreams are not really what we thought they were, nor worth pursuing. In those moments of disappointment we sometimes develop new perspectives and thus new goals.

Romney also said something interesting, and that is that we should give our jobs "our best but not our all" because our all should be reserved for God. Paraphrasing that in secular terms we can say that "we should give our best to our work but reserve our all for our vocation" which forms the larger views and passions that we had when we began doing what we love to do. Too often we give our all to the "process of our lives, instead of to its essence". I write for reasons beyond getting published, getting promoted or finding some kind of fame or notoriety. Sometimes, when seating in front of the department chair for what we call at BYU "stewardship meetings" I struggle with the bean counting discussion of articles and books and "achievements" because for me those rarely deal with my commitment to students, the profession and the larger community.

A good part, if not all, of my books have been found in the deep waters of history, and recovered from the divers places of history. Someone once asked me where I get all my ideas for my books. My response was "from living life and being aware of what is missing" in the story of people like me. This underscores for me that the "deep waters" are actually all around us. They are personal crevices that we should seek to fill at one time or another if we are to live a full life. And to catch the "big" fish, of course.

Using Our Time and Talents for the Good of our Fields

As I prepared for this week's Sunday School class which I have been teaching for almost three years, I was thinking of a just concluded conference at the University of Texas. Put together by graduate students in Chicano studies, it was a great gathering of young and old scholars, and I truly enjoyed it. But my thoughts were also on the lesson which is about when some Mormon communities practiced what they called the "United Order". In short, it was a communitarian approach to a religious life when all the families gave all their possesions to the church. The church would then sit with the family and figured out how much land and resources the family needed to live adequately.Then the family got title to all those possesions which they kept as long as they maintained the rules of the covenant between them and the church. At the end of the year, anything that was left over was given to the church to provide for the poor and afflicted, and also to sustain its mission.

The United Order went the way of other utopian communities but the principle remains a part of the charge of being a Latter-day Saints. Needless to say, few of us live that "higher law" wshich requires a deep concern for the poor, a dedication to loving those around us, and engaging in sustained religious work. At the same time, the law of consecration can teach us much about living in this life, and can also be of help in many aspects of our lives, especially those of us who joined the academy or took up writing because we believed in social justice, in the need for a better world, peace and in being good stewards of our world.

During the conference I heard a young lesbian scholar talk about her work with gay students. Her mission, undoubtedly, was not only about teaching them course work but also about literally keeping some of them alive by having them find dignity and pride in who they were. Now, admittedly I don't always understand gay scholarship, and sometimes I struggle with some of the language and explicit sexuality that is often part of queer studies, but I couldn't help admiring the commitment she was making to her students beyond the classroom.

Many of the people who enter the field of Chicano and Latino studies often do so because they feel a  commitment to their community and seek to use their scholarship to help do just that, but over time it is easy to become a "professional Chicano/Latino studies" scholar and get caught up in the game of upward mobility, tenure and recognition. Acceptable research, fund acquisition, and gaining recognition become more important over time. The "community" becomes a distant memory or simply another academic topic to be discussed. And of course, it also becomes a term to throw around to impress audiences and students with "our commitment".

Our topics become esoteric and we stop showing up to events where community people and students are around--such as the conference I attended just this week. We also become uncomfortable when we are reminded by those same people that we are becoming irrelevant to their lives, as did one community activist to some of us a few years back in Phoenix at a Chicano Studies regional conference.

The Law of Consecration had several important principles. The first was to live lives devoid of materialism and pride; another was to be concerned about the poor and not to judge them; still another to gain skills and talents that could be used to serve the community: it required a mind single to the glory of God. Now, those are very tough demands, but they made me think about our responsibilities to our field, our students and to the institutions in which we work--the latter can often be met by making them more sensitive and relevant to the students and community they serve.

I thought about how how much more I could help my younger colleagues become better scholars; how I could teach in ways to make the course work more relevant and also a rallying cry for people to be better members of their communities. I don't mean being more ideological or using the classroom to organize students for partisan issues, but rather making them better human beings who feel the need to be "their brothers/sisters keepers", who shun materialism, seek to be peacemakers, who are concerned about those in the margins of society, and who are disciplined in the way they live their lives.

The latter is also part of the Law of Consecration. It means living a moral life, and while I know that morality can be interpreted in different manners--political, social, religious, environmentally, etc.--I think that we can all agreed that it does call for higher ideals than those which come from just "living life". It calls us to be "better than what we have become". And all of us in the academy know how easy it is to become disinterested teachers, uncaring mentors, and individuals focused on our own needs.  We can also become what they call in Mexico "pilotos", pilots who fly in, teach their class, pick up their check, or attend the mandatory meeting, and then fly out not to be seen until the next scheduled flight. We see our responsibility in the rank and status process of our colleagues beginning when we read the files instead of two or three years earlier when we notice they are struggling or making the dumb scholarly mistakes we all make. We also apply to jobs advertised when we know we are not going to take them even if offered, and in the process either intimidate or cause to be overlooked other scholars who do need the job and would actually take it.

There is a joke among academicians that the university life would be wonderful if it wasn't for the students. I have used it myself in lighthearted moments. Yet, being a professor is first about being a teacher. Now, it doesn't mean that it is the thing we most like about the academy. Some of us might like more the intellectual environment, writing books or articles, artistic performance, or even the hours, but we must never forget that it is the students and the classroom that make all of those things possible. It was wonderful to hear two scholars I deeply admire talk about their concerns that the academy was moving away from truly serving the students. And they were not engaged in a political or ideological discussion but simply one in which two great teachers and mentors lamented that in our modern, hyper-individualistic, capitalist society our students were a low priority. Even when some of these changes were going to benefit them greatly, they rejected them as being unfair to students.

Religious consecration means setting aside the best for the Lord. In the academy, it should mean reserving our best for our students and for our communities. It means sacrificing some of the perks, some of "our" time and doing things that are for the benefit of others. This does not have to mean that we give up our individuality, that we focus only on the job nor that we accept the new assessment schemes that universities have put together to dwindle the faculties and make learning a business. It does not mean acquiesing to bad leadership; in fact, it means the opposite. It means being engaged and interested.

Now, as previously mentioned, I know that those of us in the academy, and often those who write, are a breed apart. We need our space, our time and sometimes for long stretches. I knew one dean who believed that professors should leave the campus every fourth year on a sabbatical, visiting professorship, study abroad or other activity that allowed them a break from the routine. I happen to agree because feeling fresh and excited is often the way we do the things we do best.

At the same time, the idea of commitment--our own personal law of consecration--should help us keep going even when we don't have the optimum situation. We should seek always to fulfill that goal we had when we entered the academy. It might mean having good semesters and bad ones, feeling fulfilled one year, and totally dejected another, but in the end it is about sticking to our passion and our vision of what the "good scholarly life" truly is.

And unlike those who practiced the Law of Consecration or other utopian schemes who had friends and neighbors (colleagues ?) we often have to do it by ourselves.  That is why conferences like the one I attended are good. We get a chance to see friends, see the next generation of scholars, and experience the enthusiasm that had us excited throughout graduation school and our first few years in the academy.