Meeting Our Obligations as Scholars & Writers

This past month I had a conversation with a scholar friend whose work I admire greatly. He told me that he had "finished his obligations" to his field and was now engaged in a work outside of it that had captured his imagination. Given his enthusiasm and the fact that he is such a talented historian, he is likely to do a great work, and possibly even find recognition in a new field.

That conversation made me think of the obligations that scholars have to their disciplines. I don't just mean doing the best work we can and being honest in how we construct our work. I mean doing work that we know has to be done in order for our field to prosper, and which we know we are the most likely person either because of skill or circumstances to do it. Often, these works take us away from some of the things we want to do and sometimes require that we do some retraining and to shift our focus. There is no doubt that they are a challenge and that is why they are a particularly important service that we do for the field.

The scholarly world, unfortunately, is so reflective of a society which tends to be too individualistic. People today tend to first seek "to find themselves" and to provide "for their needs",  and have less time to think of  their obligations. In general writing we can see the abundance of "personal" memoirs which offer almost nothing but individual reflections about nothing. Now, I do think that some have their place and some can actually be valuable, but too many of them reflect a society of individuals that only think about their wants..

I have a friend who says that too many scholars are "independent contractors" who simply want to be left alone. No doubt that many of us entered the academy to have our space and to do things that we like and believe to be important. Scholars, and writers for that matter, can be a strange breed and sometimes our world will be inhabited only by us and an occasional visitor. But even then we are not freed from the obligation to give back, and to do it in the best way that we can and that is through our scholarship and our writing.

I am a great admirer of Professor Rudy Acuna who is seen by some as the father of Chicano Studies. He is a prolific writer but his greatest contribution is the fact that he tries to never let "bull" go unchallenged. We don't always agree and he has at times been a ferociouos critic of mine but he has also defended me when I have been accused unjustly. What I like most about him is that he sees it as his obligation to keep mentoring students and keep writing what I call "obligatory" scholarship to keep the field moving forward. He may not see it as an obligation or a service but it surely is valuable to most of us in the field and to students who still flock around him at conferences.

I think we all know of people like that. They are conscious of the blessing of writing (and teaching) as a career. And while they could simply focus on the next book they want to write, they choose to keep an eye for things that ought to be done, and if they can't do it themselves they encourage and support others who can. It is an example to those young scholars and writers who are starting out, and probably for older writers and scholars too, in how to frame their careers. Being a part of the whole,
sharing our talents, being worried about what happens in the field and among those who follow our writing is the one way that we can find fulfilment in our lives, even as we periodically "do our own thing".

It is the way that we progress ourselves. As our fields evolve we do so too. And in the end, those are some of the most fulfilling works we will ever do. They will challenge us in ways that will make us grow because they expand our horizons, and often make us tackle topics we are "unsure of". I remember when I decided to write a biography on Hector P. Garcia, one of the giants of Mexican American history. No one had undertaken that chore and yet so much was being written about his era, and of course, as it is often common in our field, people were simply repeating the couple of paragraphs we knew about his life. I did not particularly like the man--he was still alive but died just before I started the work--and as a young Chicano activist he had been "the enemy". Yet, I could not see how the field was to progress without us knowing more about his life and his politics. In the process of writing the book I came to greatly admire the man and his co-horts, though truth be told I never did learn to like his personality.

At the moment, I am in the process of researching what will probably be the last "obligatory history" of my career. But after all these years, this "obligatory" history is as big a part of the history that I want to do as my recently completed book on Chicanos and basketball which was a change of course for me. In some ways, though, that too was obligatory for me because it was a story that I believed needed to be told, and it was also a way of putting some meat in the area of Chicano sports which is currently vegetarian at best. More important was my desire to see the history of Mexican Americans told in all its variety.  This new work is an intellectual biography on one of the intellectual precursors of the Chicano civil rights movement. I think we need to know about him in order to understand this movement, at the same time he is such a complex and interesting scholar that I am excited about using all the skills I have acquired to tell his story. Many of those skills I learned not only by writing what I wanted to write but also by writing those works that I felt needed to be written.

So, the next time we sit down to plan the rest of our lives, let's remember that there are works that need to be done, and that not too many people are lining up to do them. I'm sure that we will find room for them in our future, and the field and many colleagues--some still in high school--will be better for it. 

Cutting Across Theoretical and Ideological Boundaries

One of the most important characteristics of a good scholar and writer is the ability to maintain balance and certainty in an intellectual world in which so many theories and methodologies abound, and where being "behind the times" can mean the kiss of death. This is more particular to the academic world but it can also be almost as complicated in the world of blogs, 24-hour news cycles and in the political arena. That is why it is unusual for anyone deeply engrained in those arenas to write good works. Not impossible, and many have done it, but still difficult.


No doubt that the academy is a bubble and most of us who live there are often insulated and isolated from the real problems of every day people. That has probably always been the case, but in today's world too many good people find themselves unable to really write anything that is worth its salt outside the academy because of "overloaded minds" or because they put too much time into staying up with the blogs and posts. More and more we are pressured to write for our own bubble and our small community of likeminded individuals. And I find this a particularly poisonous environment for people who want to write scholarship or even fiction that has meaning or is valuable outside those limited parameters. So much writing is now conjured up within the four walls of an apartment, a classroom, or a cubicle at the library. The more people prepare themselves to be scholars and writers, the more they isolate themselves from the world they once wanted to influence.


Being an intellectual or good fiction writer means transcending borders and pushing against the grain, learning about new landscapes, listening to different people and being challenge to see things differently. Today, unfortunately, it often means staying within an ideological boundary and pushing back against only the enemy. We tolerate little dissension from our ranks. And we have too many litmus tests. I don't mean standards or ground rules but rather fastidious "gotcha" traps used to blunt rather than encourage intellectual conversation.

This is not a conservative or liberal problem but a problem with our society. Yet, the good writers always find a way to cut across ideologies and social norms. It is difficult and that is why literature is littered with writers who were recognized only after they left the scene or whose works--if they were lucky--remain dust-covered decades and centuries after they were published. In history, we are not so kind to such people. We know how to bury our dead deep lest they resurrect and show us how wrong we were.

Yet, if we are to progress beyond the rigid academia, the polarized punditry, and the blogsphere wars, we need to nurture more writers and intellectuals who are willing to push back against even their friends and colleagues when they are destructive, who find it more important to write meaningful material than popular one (to their bubble friends), and who believe that life is more than just about arguing and fighting or trapping people in ideological inconsistencies. We need to use words that do more than simply give us an advantage. Today, going for the jugglar is more important than finding the answers. It is also more attractive to humiliate, marginalize and destroy other people than to try to find common ground. Sometimes the battle is an end-all one and there can be no compromises--hough that is usually rare. Those also have to be fought, but we should still try to fight in a way that victory does not simply leave scarred landscapes.

Ideology and faddish notions is what makes us do that carpet-bombing. In contrast, principles are those intellectual and spiritual parameters that force us to try to convince people that we are right or that what we bring to the table can be better than the alternative. Those men and women whom we admire for their great work were people whose principles always transcended their ideology. That is why they changed in the ways they did and galvanized the people they did. When they, themselves, became too ideological they went the way of the ideologues. They weren't always right or their work wasn't always positive but they were consistent to the point that any work can be.

So, as we seek to become good scholars and writers and we are tempted to be the "movers of ideas" let us not forget that principles--those beliefs which are based on greater intellectual and spiritual depth and which apply to greater numbers of people than ideology or academic theories--are more important to have than great ideas. Let us not be "toss to and fro" by theories, methodologies or "great ideas" which come and go, but rather remain firm in the things we believe are good for the whole.

I am naive enough to believe that there are words to be written that are still meaningful beyond the next conference, the following blog post, and which cannot be undermined no matter how much we reconstruct or analyze them. Those usually involve writing about the lives of people, their struggles, defeats and triumphs. It is usually work that the people themselves can understand and appreciate and which makes them seek to "be better than what they have become". Now, I understand that not all work is specifically about people, sometimes it is about forces and institutions, and sometimes it speaks to tragedy, but the reality is that life doesn't exist without people and people's reaction to their world. My own grounding to this principle has helped me hold on through the winds of theoretical change. I have changed and some of those theories have been extremely helpful, but only because I've maintained my balance and picked and chose those which have enhanced and re-enforced my principles to write about people's struggles to find a place in this world.

After attending the National Associationn of Chicana/o Studies in San Antonio I am optimistic that it is possible to stem the tide of divisiveness, and faddish academic ideology. I saw and spoke to a number of scholars and young people who want to write things that are meaningful and which will have an impact for good. The only thing missing was a few more mentors willing to sit and chat and help these young people. But the struggle to make it on their own can also be helpful. Many of us had to do it on our own, and some of us did okay. Still, good mentors are always welcomed.

Fighting "Comfortable" History

I just finished reading The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks by Jeanne Theodoris, and I highly recommend it for those who like to read good history and especially for those who are concerned about how history is sometimes manipulated to make it fit into a nice narrative in which we can feel good about our society.  Theodoris' thesis is that Rosa Parks was a life-long activist who did not simply feel "too tired" to get up from her seat. She was a strong civil right activist long before the Montgomery bus boycott and would be even more committed to the struggle for her people years after.

Most of this goes contrary to the story we have been told about Rosa Parks and provides a different perspective on our nation's slow-walk toward equality. It is also a myth perpetuated by scholars who find "comfortable history" more palatable than the story of a tough as steel woman who believed in self-defense, admired the young black power activists, who spent more time fighting discrimination in Detroit than Alabama, and whose hero was Malcom X. Too many Americans would find it difficult to accept this version because it points out the messiness of history, and reaffirms what most good historians know and that is that loose ends are not always neatly tied together in the end. More important, the story of Rosa Parks creates another strain within Ameican history that challenges the hegemonic narrative we push so hard in public schools and in many universities.

At the same time, we find that myth-making is not simply a task of American scholars and intellectuals. Currently, that is happening in Venezuela where El Comandante's followers are writing history for their next electoral campaign. In a few years all we will know about Hugo Chavez will be what will benefit the Chavistas in power--or if they lose the election, seeking power. Rosa Parks hated the fact that the story line was that she was tired from working hard when in reality she was tired of being discriminated against. For Chavez, embalming someone and putting them in display was one more symbol of capitalist debauchery. Now his enemies will have another example of El Comandante's "socialist contradictions" to point out.

Too often historical figures become footnotes in a history that we can manipulate for our own politics and our own causes. We create an overarching narrative or paradigm and find the people and events, fine tune them, or blatantly manipulate them, and proclaim it history. Most all of us are guilty of it in one form or another but some of us try to keep to the "truth" as closely as we can, while others simply rewrite it as most scholars have done with Rosa Parks and most Chavista historians will do with Hugo Chavez. And with today's post-modernist notion that there is no truth except interpretation it has become much easier to do so. Conservative and liberal historians use to simply leave out things, today's historians simply interpret them which ever way they want.

While no doubt that much truth is in the eyes of the beholder there are facts that cannot be ignored. We can interpret Rosa Park's actions which ever way we want, but we cannot ignore what she said about those actions over and over again. We can argue that black power advocates hated traditional civil rights advocates but we cannot argue that those traditional advocates and those black power activist met numerous times, held conferences together, or worked with each other in particular issues. We can say racism was a "southern thing" but we cannot deny the rampant discrimination, segregation and police brutality in the north. We can say that Martin Luther King, Jr. was a man of peace and nonviolence and that he loved this country, but we cannot erase his words to the effect that American was one of the worse killers of innocent people in history. We can now claim him as an American hero but we cannot forever hide the polls taken during his time which showed him to be one of the most hated men among Whites.

Yes, we can manipuate intepretations but we cannot erase facts, documents, speeches and personal words even if we do choose to hide them. In the end, history is not "comfortable" for the human species. And no good scholar or writer should ever be part of a historical and scholarly approach that tries to make it so. We might be strongly conservative, liberal, left or whatever ideology we believe in, but that does not give us the right to consciously lie, distort or misinterprest. If we really believe that what we write is the "truth" or the right solution, we ought to have the faith that it will make a difference. Or as the apostle John said, that it will make us free. To say we believe in something or someone and then manipulate the facts in order for that something or someone to prosper unfairly is an admission that we don't have faith in what we believe. Sure, truth does not always triumph but trying to tell the truth is liberating to us and to the causes we espouse.

I always remember an old Chicano activist who saw himself as the ultimate socialist. He preached the poor people's ability to see through the lies of the politicians. And he knew they would pick his candidate, but he helped the truth along by ripping down all the opposition's posters and did everything to prevent the other side from participating in the public debate. So much for the faith in his cause. Today, he is just another rich lawyer. If we don't believe in what we preach or write then we shouldn't write or preach it. And if we find ourselves writing a history that fits comfortably into a narrative we know not to be fully true, then we ought to take a hard look at what we are doing.
                                                                         

El Comandante has Died!

Yesterday, Hugo Chavez, the controversial president of Venezuela died. While I am not a historian of Latin America--though I have a degree in the field--I sought to keep up with the actions of the man. I also went to Venezuela a few years ago to see what was going on since leftist politics is an interest of mine. I read several books, interviewed people and used my former journalist's eyes and ears and historian's mind to learn as much as I could about the man. Having gone to Cuba, Mexico, Central America and even the Middle East to study revolutionary movements, I developed some notions of Chavez and Chavismo.

I have no interest in writing about my personal feelings on the man or his movement, but I do want to write the just initiated discussions of the man and Venezuela. And I have to admit I quickly concluded that most journalists and even the "informed" pundits know so little about the man and his politics. They apply no framework for understanding the man but simply speak as admirers or disdainers. They evaluate him on issues that are political but which often have little to do with things on the ground. He is either a dilusional socialist or a corrupt leader, or he is the savior of Latin America. While these claims may have some "truth" within them, they are hardly good analysis of the man.

This leads me to my dismay in recent years of seeing pundits and journalists claim to be historians. From Chris Mathews to Bill O'Rielly, these individuals get interested in a topic--mostly one that will make money--hire a ghost writer, peruse the sources that fit their views, and then put out a mostly sensational work that has little merit, adds little to the historical record but stirs up the pollitical waters and thus sells books. None of these men--mostly men--ever find that their research and study of some political leader ever changes their mind. The view they have of their topics is the same when they are finished as when they started. Though historians have always written with ideological and political lenses, they could at least claim to bring in some expertise and some time spent looking at the sources. And surprisingly there are a few who admit to having learned something new or even changed their view about their topic. Those, of course, were individuals who took their professions seriously.

Today, however, most people write about what they like and they end up liking even more what they write. In one day, I saw people line up on either side of the Chavez divide and pontificate, though the anti-Chavez crowd were the most numerous. This was particularly true in Univision which is headquartered in Miami. And while the station claims a liberal view on American politics, they tend to be anti-anything left when it comes to Latin America. That is particularly true about Jorge Ramos who often seems "embarrassed" that Latin Americans leaders don't act like his favorite white politicians.

Most analysts, like Ramos and the mostly conservative analysts he brings in, will miss Chavez's growing up years, his evolution during his military stint, and will fail to connect his political views to a long tradition of military populism in Latin America that navigates between right and left. They will fail to understand that his closeness to Fidel Castro did not come initially because of ideology but because of the open door that Cuba offered to those in Latin American who were against the status quo. Most will also fail to note how the American approved coup radicalized him, and led him to embrace those who hated the U.S. not because of ideology but because of shared bitterness. They will either judge him a socialist who ruined his country or mock him as a candy-store leftist who was anything but ideologically inconsistent. Then, they will look at the problems of Venezuela and accuse him of failing to fix all the problems that the nation faced. They will do this while ignoring the fact that almost all of the Latin American countries--governed from the left or the right--are currently facing the same challenges.

They will compare him to Fidel Castro, maybe even Che Guevarra, and find him "wanting" as a leader with legacy. And then they will feel good about having done their job. This reminds me of when I went to cover El Salvador with a team of reporters during its civil war. While I read as much as I could about the country, the insurgency and Latin American politics, most of the other journalists were worried about whether they were in shape in case they had to "hump" out in the countryside. Some even learned a few spanish words to order a beer. As expected, most came back feeling the same about that "banana republic and its tin-sword" leaders as they did when they left. In fact, the chief copy editor actually provided the overarching thesis of the newspaper's coverage even though he knew nothing about the civil war or Central America. My complaints over the shoddy and unprofessional work got me fired, one week before my part of the coverage was honored for outstanding reporting. What the award committee found was that I cut through numerous layers of politics and perceptions to get to the core of what people were thinking as they lived through a horrible civil war. I did this because I prepared and I asked questions that went beyond the interviews and also spent time in country trying to decipher how people thought. Getting the "scoop" was less important than understanding the story of El Salvador.

El Comandante was a complicated figure and his life and politics say much about Latin America, its past, its ghosts, it racial divisions and its future. Few will noticed how much Latin American has changed because of him and how much less it is under the influence of the U.S., which for many Latin Americans is a great improvement. Most of that, however, will be missed by the pundits and need I say by a lot of the Latin American historians who will be asked for sound bites. My experience in the academy has taught me that most American Latin Americanists have little sense of Latin America. They may know the sources and they can figure out the larger actions but they know little about what people think, or why they vote the way they do. Few of them will have ever spent time walking up the mountainsides among the poor, lunched with military men, or interviewed refugees, or guerrillas. And most will care very little about the people they write about. So El Comandante will be just another "South American dictator" who came and went and left his country worse off. And then everyone will be surprised when another Hugo Chavez arises in Latin America, and they will then chalk it up to the craziness of Latin Americans.

Don't Write to Publish Every Day

A couple of years ago I wrote Maria Elena Salinas, Univision's talented and much admired anchor, a note arguing that she was taking a very simplistic approach in a column she wrote. I don't remember the topic now but I thought that she should have known better than to write what she did. A few days later, she wrote back saying that she had been attacked from both sides of the political spectrum and thus "I must be saying something right". I was reminded of that exchanged when I read about what one journalist calls the mainstream media's "Bipartisan Think" approach to reporting the news.  This approach assumes that "everyone" is equally responsible for the problems in Washington and the country, and that everyone has a legitimate or at least a right to have a different opinion on an issue and that both sides of the debate must be dealt with in a  balanced way. This can at times include balancing out a scientific pronouncement with a counter argument from an anti-science group.

This, of course, is ridiculous. Yet, it is becoming more common with the explosion of technology that allows anyone to write and comment on just about anything without having to take responsibility for their arguments. The media's fascination with reporting "all that is going on" bombards us with absurdities. The fact that people now do not write to their friends but to their "followers" means that words and ideas have become cheap and they now usually come as shots from the hip. Not knowing how to handle this explosion of "writings and commentaries" many in the media simply report as many of these sides as they can. This has allowed pundits from the left and the right to appear even though they have nothing serious or intelligent to offer. Twenty-four hour cable and computer live streaming add much to this morass of bad ideas.

But this instant messaging environment has also impacted some rather serious writers who do often have something important to say. Its just that no one, no matter how talented, has something serious and meaningful to say every day. One only has to study prolific writers of the past to realize that they agonized over every word and spent hours and even days going over what would become a permanent part of the public record. Computers might facilitate the writing, technology the venue, and one's name may attract the audience, but the process of saying something meaningful is still difficult no matter one's abilities. Yet, what writer shuns an invitation to be read (or seen reading) even if it is a self-created one with blogs, facebook, twitter, youtube, instagram, etc.? Now columnists who write several times a week have blogs and so do most anchor people and reporters.

There use to be a reason why one read people three times a week and not everyday. There is also a reason why there is time and space between great journalistic stories, or poems, short stories and novels. That time was meant to be spend perfecting the idea before it came out. Today, we are obsessed with reading from the same people everyday. That is why kids who blog their tragedies have hundreds of thousands of followers, and why animals have facebook pages. We no longer seek to get meaning from what we read but we actually create it in our own minds and project it unto what we read or in the case of Youtube see. How else would we explain a pig without hind legs having more followers that the president?

Part of this faddish obsession with blogs and facebook is that many people have lost a sense of community. We don't talk to our neighbors, spend time after church or work talking to people in the same space, and our families are spread throughout the continent. We often work in places where we are separated by cubicles or assignments and we don't have real human contact except for the "hi" and "see you laters" as we come in and leave. Digital writing allows us to communicate without really communicating and given that we only use short phrases, it also allows us not to think too deeply about what we are going to say. We can also make snide remarks on someone's post and know that no one is going to take the time to rebuttal what we say. They'll just make snide remarks back.

Blogs have spread rapidly through academia and now we have hundreds of them in all the genres that call themselves part of the intellectual pursuit. Periodically you find some bright idea and some good writing. Most of the time it is shallow material that is "part of a larger research project" and which is often meant to elicit praise for our work, or to test the waters to see how many sharks there are before we jump in. For young scholars it is a wonderful opportunity to write and develop ideas, but for actual learning they are a bad place to spend too much time in. Even most of the good postings are shallow.

Yet, for some scholars it is the only place to "publish" something given the nastiness of the publishing arena in academia. And, of course, ideas should not be the domain of those who control the means of publication. So my beef is not that people want to write or even with the venues which allows them to be published or read, it is with the notion that you can write and have something significant to say without putting much thought into it than what appears in the brain that morning after the coffee or the hard workout at the gym. I am troubled with the liberality with which we throw out words and ideas and then believe that their accummulation means that we have said something meaningful. I am troubled by people who trivialize their tragedies or happiness by detailing every minute and every day of their lives to strangers, and am troubled just as much with those who urge them on because they are obsessed with knowing what someone is feeling 3,000 miles away even though they might not even know their next door neighbor.

So, what should the role of the serious writer be? This I know will get me in trouble with the "its a free country, all-ideas are important" crowd. But here it goes nonetheless. We should take time to think about what we write, study it in our minds, reflect on its usefulness, write it, leave it for a day or two, edit and rewrite and ask ourselves again if there is a purpose to it. Once we feel confident that it does then we publish it. And then we keep wondering if we actually said something useful because the mark of a good writer and intellectual is that they are humble enough to realize that even in their best moments something important was left unsaid and something trivial was given too many words.

Now, I'm not speaking to the person who simply wants a public journal to be read by all, or someone who likes to chat with their friends and meet new ones. It is meant for the serious writer, the person seeking to contribute to the intellectual pursuit. After all, this is what this blog is about even when it fails to meet the standard that I have set for myself. Writing is a serious business and it cannot be cheapened by the abundance of publishing venues. I remember when I was editor of a small literary journal that writers would send material to me that they would not send to "important" journals believing that they were doing me a favor. They weren't going to waste their best work on my meaningless journal. But that is exactly what they were doing, wasting--my time, their time, my journal pages, and their own computer screens. Work that is not pruned and perfected--as much as it can be--should never see the light of day. It should be in a journal, in unpublished notebooks, in stashed away files, or in the trash bin. I don't know how many blog postings I have finished, reworked, left to ferment, only to be deleted. Why? Because not everything written is worthy of publication and not every work that creates attention or controversy is worth the screen it was written on.

Writing should be fun and seeing our work in print or on screen is motivating but we should be careful not to be lulled into thinking that everything that comes from our computer or pad and pencil is good, or that by simply writing we are getting better. I am reminded of something Phil Jackson, the famous Laker coach once said about Shaquil O'Neil who would shoot 200 free throws in practice to improve his terrible percentage:"He's just doing it wrong 200 tiimes a day". It wasn't the times he shot that needed to improve but his technique. When we write every day we can improve but when we publish every day we usually just repeat the same mistakes. That is one reason why Ernest Hemningway once said that all writers should be journalists--for the constant writing and deadlines--but not for too long or they'd become bad writers.

Happy Valentine!

For those who love romantic stories for Valentine's here is an excerpt from my novel. It is more romantic-tragic but then all romance is part tragedy.


https://www.dropbox.com/s/l50jfph5z4wuj8p/Can%20tho%20Excerpt2.pdf

Letters from Garcia: Defing and Expanding One's Voice

Letters from Garcia: Defing and Expanding One's Voice: My trying to live/write one day at a time was suppose to eliminate the blues that I get when I am inbetween projects. So much for that idea....

Defing and Expanding One's Voice

My trying to live/write one day at a time was suppose to eliminate the blues that I get when I am inbetween projects. So much for that idea. Though, in all honesty, I am actually being crushed by the many projects I have. That won't change until I finally prioritize and line them up. At the same time, I will have to find a "new" workplace. I do this periodically--a Stephen King thing--so that my mind and writing soul can stay fresh. This time, I'm going into our large closet. It makes me feel like the aforementioned author who use to use a bunch of orange crates as a table to keep reminding himself where he came from, which was poverty. If it sounds like a gimmick, it is, but then to be a writer is to have gimmicks that put at bay writer's block, depression and provides you the notion "of a new beginning" which simply serves "to put at bay writer's block, depression..."

I got a "great" compliment this past week from someone who is reading my kindle novel Can Tho A Story of Love & War.  The reader remarked, "I'm about to finish the novel and I don't want it to end". A shameless plug, yes but one that I think is legitimate. The story is one that grows on you and you come to identify with the characters and eventually you want to read a little about them every day or every few days. In this, I think this novel is different from the blockbuster type that you don't want to put down until you've read it in one sitting. Those are usually about the action. My novel as most of my work--even the history books--is character driven. I find my voice in talking about people and getting the reader to empathize with them, to love them or even to truly dislike them but most important to focus on them. In the end, most fiction as most scholarship in my area is about people; without them much else is unimportant. One can write about trees, rivers, climate change, or many other things, but without people in the story most of that doesn't matter. After all we are not animals or inanimate objects writing about such others. We are humans talking about the human experience from a human perspective.

In my novel I talk about war but from the perspective not of a hero but of someone trying to survive while performing his "duty" in the best and most honest way he can. That he falls in love and is forced to be a crucial part of the battle--as a medic--is something that happens to him. He is literally dragged into situations and so he responds.

As I've mentioned before this novel is based on part of my experiences in Viet Nam, but the story is not created there, and it comes about only when I defined my voice. That is to say that I could not have written this novel right out of Viet Nam nor after my first couple of years in college. I needed to experience life, to begin to shape my long-term view of things, and to establish my personal philosophy. Once I knew how I wanted to live life and had developed a way to look back and assess, I was then ready to write my novel. While many things came out of my journal and my memory, and the main characters were based on real people and their personalities, the story itself comes out of my view of life. My voice then reflects what I think now even if what my characters in the novel say is different than what I, myself, would have said. A bit tortured prior sentence but I think the reader gets what I mean.

My voice was forged and continues to be refined by my experiences and by writing. The reason why writing is so crucial, aside from the practice and stories which in themselves help create a voice, is that writing forces me to confront rhetorical, grammatical and conceptual roadblocks, and those force me to reconsider ideas and actions. Most of us can see a little of ourselves in the work we do--in the case of my novel quite a bit of myself--and we often test our own character in the challenges our characters face. We might not be like the serial killer we write about, but no doubt he or she has something of us within them. That's because we can only write about what we have researched, experienced and integrated in our psychic. There is both an attachment to and a distance from characters we develop in our stories, even if those characters are real people in a scholarly or nonfiction work. One of my best works was about a man I deeply admired but whom I would have disliked had I interacted with him. My work then needed to bring out his best qualities while showing how they alienated many.

To successfully do this, I had to construct a voice that could speak to his contradictions. Do I mean that we have to have a different voice for different types of works? No and maybe slightly yes. No, in that our voice indicates how we think in most circumstances and how we resolve problems, contradictions, and how we either express hope or engage in lamentation about the things around us. But yes because the voices of good writers have philosophical intonations that get to matters that are difficult and complex and out of the ordinary for them.Sometimes our work--or our writing jobs--require that we alter our voice if only slightly or temporarily. Sometimes that alteration speaks to a view or conclusion that is not consistent with our regular voice. One example is that of a civil rights historian that finds him/herself writing about an instance when segregation actually worked for the benefit of the oppressed. For some the facts take them where they may, but for others, more ideological, it takes them where they don't want to go. The conclusion may come out of the facts and the analysis but it nonetheless challenges their voice.

Of course, this is complicated and for the good of our sanity it is usually best to avoid too many of these circumstances or they will shake our foundational voices and to survive we become chroniclers and not writers. Yet, these challenges can also expand our voice and makes us reassess the way we look at things and how we write about them. But expansion must have a purpose and must be consistent with who we are in one form or another, otherwise we simply dilute the way we think and write. Developing a voice is necessary early in our writing life but refining it is a life-long process.

Thirty Books in Thirty Years?

I recently had a young scholar asked me what I could tell him about being more productive, and it reminded me that I once attended a lecture of a colleague's mentor who had written thirty books in about 40-plus years in the academy. Needless to say, I was both impressed and a bit dubious. Had he written twelve to fifteen books, it would have been easier to believe. Why? Because in my business you cannot simply sit in your chair and compose in your computer. You have to do research, test out your ideas, read a lot of secondary sources and find primary sources that have not been over used. You have to write conscious that other scholars will to try to prove you wrong. Then, you have to find a legitimate press that will take your work. I'm a pretty fast scholar and there have been times in which I have researched and written a book in about three years, but usually it is a book that jumps off a previous project, never one that starts from scratch.

To write thirty books in thirty or forty years means you have a stable of research assistants, a catalogued archive in your study room and unlimited research funds, or your sibling owns a university press. The fellow I mentioned earlier was from the University of Columbia and I don't think he had none of the aformentioned. Of course, he could simply have been a writing genius. There is a writer whose name escapes me at the moment who has written over 90 books and he still looked under 70 years old in the picture I saw of him. Now, while all writing requires some research it is likely that someone who is not worried about footnotes, bibliographies and academic standards is likely to be able to put out a lot of works. And if he or she makes a name for themselves most presses will consistently publish them because people buy books by popular authors and not necesssarily because of the subject or the quality. I know, there are a lot of unread books in my office from "famous" authors.

So how does one respond to someone that seeks to be more productive? My advice would be to write a good "first book". Most people who write a first good book open up a big door though not all walk through it. I don't think I've known personally anyone who has written a bad first book ever do much afterward in my field. It is not impossible and people who don't do well in their first effort should not give up, but it does make it harder. The first one will always lack some something, but it should never lack passion, an interesting topic and some flashes of good writing. 

As I said in one of my earlier posts, it is important to understand what it takes to be a writer and for scholars or nonfiction writers, it means learning the demands and standards of their field. It is hard work as is the craftsman's and the artist's. It is a daily pursuit and there are no short cuts. And--this is important--there must be a lifelong passion for the written word. If you don't love to write as much as it pains you to do so, you will never be good at anything that entails or truly demands writing.

Writers should be prolific and they should try to publish their work but I don't believe that overwriting and publishing for the sake of having a long resume is the mark of a good writer. In recent years, especially with the rise of e-books I have found outfits--I don't know what else to call them--that "teach" you how to write a book in a weekend and get it published online. They are what I call "piece-it-togethers" who actually tell you that people aren't looking for quality just information. Writing is a such a difficult process and so is getting published that people in droves pay significant amount of money to "publish". But it does not make them writers. If that was the case all those tv pundits and politicians who "write" books--most of which are written by staff or ghost writers--would have the right to call themselves writers, but they don't. They don't spend the time looking up sources, writing and rewriting sentences and paragraphs, rereading their work and dumping those sections or all of the manuscript because it doesn't work, and starting over.

Writing, as I have often said, is about hard work. People who write a book a year can rarely muster that much good to say. In my profession three to four books in thirty years is consider a good career if you add articles, book reviews, teaching, leading study abroad, and other collaborative efforts. Five to seven books are considered really good and anything above that is a different shade of excellence, though by then you are probably talking about closer to a 40-plus-year career. All of this, of course, depends on the quality of the book. My goal was ten to twelve books in my lifetime --I started writing books in my late 30s--but only seven of them were to be scholarly works. Only time will tell if I get there given that I now want to write poetry, short stories, plays and essays. But surely I will never get to thirty books.

Here is a tip I ran into on writing schedules.

http://www.bgsu.edu/downloads/provost/file14107.pdf

Writing/Living One Day at a Time

This year I made my mind up that I would not write any New Year's resolutions nor burden myself with a scheme on how to accomplish as many as I could. I am, by the way, pretty good at getting something out of resolutions though admittedly, like most, I end up frustrated over the ones I don't and thus add more to my plate the following year, or simply fence more of my life as I succumb to the notion that there are areas in my life that simply won't change.

Well, not this year. This year I will actually practice what I had hoped to do last year but was pursuaded not to. This year I will simply try to live one day at a time in regards to all those things that come my way, and consequently do that with my writing. Before I explain how--and no, I'm not going to engage in a detailed planning effort--I want to say why this approach this year. I am not, at least not now, changing my whole way of living or writing. I am simply trying out something, and that something is trying to figure who I really am as a person, scholar and writer. I want to discover what my core has come to be constructed of. One way is to simply try to respond to life's (and writing's) challenges with what is already in the barrel of my soul.

Does that mean I won't study or read new books, or put into practice things I might learn during the year? I don't really know what it means, except that I'm going to try to respond to things with those principles I already know and with those that come with my daily living. But more important, it means I will be doing those things that are important to the day. My core experiences are, of course, made up of past experiences and daily living, but I don't want to use the past as an excuse or as a reason on why I do things. Nor will I use the future as a way to justify not doing something today. In other words, each day must find its own reasoning, even if that reasoning is built on past experiences that have become engrained in my core. But because they have become engrained they are now part of my life's daily character.

If this all sounds complicated, it is. I have little notion of how to live one day at a time, having lived my life with plans, resolutions, and priding myself in being a basically well organized writer. I have benefitted greatly from planning and making resolutions each year and finding ways to implement those goals. But I've also found that each year becomes more burdened with resolutions and goals and thus each year I feel as someone who "lacks" rather than someone who has accomplished and has grown. More important, I keep wondering who I really am given that I am trying to be so many things. Now, I'm a pretty stable person and no I don't have psychological or emotion problems and I don't have a massive Hemingway writer's block. Rather I have a great desire to know what is at my core and how would I live if I had to depend on that and not on all the resources or ideas that flow out from the hundreds of ideas that I conjure up every year.

I know that for the most part I have lived my life as I wish I could, but not always have I been grateful or appreciative, usually because there is always something ahead of me to do, or something that is in the rear view mirror that I did not do. Sometimes those get in the way of simply doing and finding joy in who I am. I don't really know what it will mean for my writing or even for my learning but I do believe that it will mean greater internal peace and some surprises along the way. It will mean paying attention to things that I usually ignore in preparing for "greater things". Maybe, I can begin to write poetry which is something I've always wanted to do. Writing poetry seems to be based on the ability to live in the moment and to notice things that most people ignore, overlook, or fail to appreciate.

Periodically, I will report on what this has meant for me and for my writing. But first, I got to keep those "resolutions, plans, obsession" out of my brain, and that seems for the moment the hardest chore. But I won't make a resolution to keep them at bay, at least not this year.

Writing for One's Self/ Its Okay at Times

For years I did not buy in to the notion of "writing for one's self". In fact, it seemed to me to be a copout for not being able to get published. Now I don't condemn the notion itself even if I do cherry-pick how I define the phrase.

Beyond being therapuetic, writing without thinking about an audience can be good. Normally we are taught to have the reader in mind, and that's particularly true for certain types of writing.  But sometimes we write because there is something waiting to come out from deep inside and it has no particular audience in mind. That something may not be an important work and it might well be a detour from work we are currently doing. At other times it is work that stands in the way of other work. In other words, it might be important to us personally but it is not critical to our profession or even to our agenda.

The more you write, the more you are likely to face those types of works. For years I avoided those situations with all the fervor I could. I was not about to waste time on something unpublishable given that it is difficult and time-consuming to write anything significant in the first place. Writing became work--enjoyable but nonetheless work. There were many plots, subplots, documentaries, plays, psalms, poems, article, ectc. circulating around in my head that never received more than a lamentary nod.

But what about when something you've worked on so hard and have believed in for so long becomes such a work? In other words your "gem" has become simply something that you want to get out but are not sure anyone will care about? That was the case with my Viet Nam novel. I worked on it longer than anything else and I have had a greater emotional commitment to it than any other work I have written or plan to write.So having published it in kindle was strange, but now that I did it, it feels like a relief and I'm enjoying the feedback.

More important, I've relearned that all work has an audience and while we take a chance by putting our work "out there" there is actually a reason to do so. Words written are like melodies composed--they are meaningless unless someone else sees or sings them.

This meaningless is useless to the author. We write to be read even if its by just a few. There is nothing wrong with those works that never garner a mass audience but there is something wrong with those that only gather dust. So, publish the work, in one form or another or at least share it with a group of friends, neighbors or someone willing to read it. If it goes no further than that it will have served a purpose. All those bedtime stories that I wrote my grandson have worked to bond us closer, and my friends in my yahool group have enjoyed the short stories I've written for them, and of course some will buy my novel either because of friendship or because they've like my Christmas and Halloween stories.

I have said before that all things have a measure of their existence. In other words, they have a purpose. Those writings of mine may have already served their purpose and in that they have nothing to envy the longer works that I have and will continue to write.

The other point to be made here is that work that is "published" however we define that to mean is work that is behind us and which provides us perspective. We learn something from the experience of looking at them as finished products. We may cringe over the mistakes we've made or the awkward phrases, bad characterization, shoddy research or any other faulty writing that is now "published", but we know we can do little about them. We have to move on but their existence in "print" will remind us of the need to continue to hone our skills.

 Work that is in some closet or drawer usually doesn't provide us such reminders nor does it give us much of a perspective. Now, I know that this experience doesn't always work this way. I remember that as a magazine editor in New York I knew a freelancer who submitted badly written features every month, and we published them. Why? Because the ideas were great and we had a section that was hard to fill, so the editors edited and rewrote his work for publications. One time we did reject his work and I was assigned to tell him that his work was bad--and it really was--and he could not accept it from some "young editor" and he pointed to his numerous bylines as proof that I was wrong.

So, if you have something to write, do it. Someworks will have their built-in audience but others will seem to be devoid of potential readers. Yet, the passion for a particular work will cause you to work hard, spend the required time, and eventually help you hone your skills. These works are like a good workout. Sometimes as writers we have to be "gym rats" with the pencil or computer. While at the gym we might focus on the next 5K, or the game, there are times when we only focus on our bodies, and not on what we are going to ask our body to do. In those moments we are able to take the time to do what we don't do at other times. Such is writing for "ourselves".

One last point: this advise can apply to scholarly work. While in scholarship it is imperative to publish, we sometimes find ourselves with work that doesn't have an outlet. We either dump it without finishing it or we stop writing because the unfinished product becomes a bottle neck. The result is the same, we don't publish. My thought is to finish it, send it around, take bits and pieces for a presentation, a short essay, a classroom supplemental reading, etc. and let it become a "publishable" work that we can then evaluate as a done deal. We will be amazed by what it does for our writing, and, of course, we will be relieved of the pressure of having an "idea" that has no audience.


























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To Some of My Mormon Liberal Friends: The Rest Skip It

I write this to some of my liberal Mormon friends whom I admire and often seek to learn from, but who sometimes annoyed me to no end. I do so because I care about them and worry that they sometimes value their political and cultural views more than their religious beliefs. They read many books, seek to learn, and try to develop very profound principles. Unfortunately, many of those principles don't come from the scriptures, the prophets, or even what they learned growing up in church. They often come mostly from graduate school and from gentile intellectuals. There is nothing wrong with that unless those become the final arbitrators of what they deem as divine truth.

I write to those who don't like to wear white shirts because they make them feel like capitalists, or those who figure that pants are better than dresses (who gave you that idea?), or who sit in the back and act like nothing being said from the pulpit applies to them unless it has to do with being kind to the poor and the homeless; and to those who only get with the spirit--of anger--when someone is defending guns, capitalism, or American Exceptionalism. Its also meant for those who like to emphasize how they are different from the rest, think marrying outside the church is cool (it is not wrong, of course), love being the toast of the gentile media, or wonder out loud if the church is ever going to catch up with them. And particularly for those who think their brand of "liberalism, feminism, or humanism" is the real one, or they just invented it when they joined it.

Let me remind those wonderful souls that there are liberal mormons who wear white shirts and ties--and sometimes even suits--wear dresses (or whatever they deem respectful), read their lessons, are inspired by the teachings of the prophets, like to go to the temple, feel a part of the body of Christ and love their fellow members as much as the "progressive" intellectuals that they read. These liberal Mormons also give their last buck to the homeless on the corner, work in soup kitchens, march in solidarity with the oppressed, the immigrant, women, etc., and believe we are killing the environment. They abhor vulture capitalism and probably voted for the current officeholder in the White House.

These individuals don't see home teaching as a waste of time, or fret over the fact that their missionary sons and daughters might be teaching "Utah culture" instead of "real" doctrine. They might have misgivings about some of the views of their leaders but choose to learn the good that they might offer. They read the Ensign, get their kids the Friend, and listen to General Conference to learn something and not to see if the Brethren are following an ideological slant, or who the next Boyd K. Packard is going to be. And they even find something (maybe just a little) good in Packard, McConkie, and Joseph Fielding Smith's writing.

They read all about Brigham Young, Joseph Smith, Ezra Taft Benson, the battles over the priesthood, and all the things we do wrong to our sisters and our gay saints, and it tears their guts out, but they believe in the notion that we are imperfect people and will do rather stupid and hurtful things in the road to our salvation, but more important: that God will be the Judge.  And they fret because they have skeletons in their own closet.

These liberal mormons have been general authorities, bishops, relief society presidents, stake presidents, primary presidents, YM/YW leaders, missionaries, sunday school teachers, or ordinary members, and people love them and see them as "examples of the word". And yet they would be the last ones to admit they are anything special.

They are sympathetic to and go out of their way to comfort people who feel marginalized and oppressed. And they often push back against the unkind culture of some wards, but they still believe and do so deeply. They see the scriptures--yes, those written by men with great faults--as inspired and they don't see a need to write a female, black or latino version of the book of mormon. If those actually existed out there--and were inspired--they'd be the first to read them, but they won't invent them. They see the struggle for equality as fundamental to a just society and a more perfect church but still see redemption as God's greatest gift.. They befriend those who disagree and even those who might disparage them. They might hate guns but don't see their owners simply as gun owners. They hate the arrogance of some in the church but stop short of being harsh because they see their own pride.

Finally, these liberal momons are not going to get tired of the church when it doesn't listen to them and leave. And in case you might not know some of their names (they don't all call themselves liberal, but they do share the values): Tom Alexander, Kathryn Daynes, Hugh Nibley, Cheiko Ogazaki, Alejandra Garcia, Merlin Jensen, Dora Gonzalez, Mary Richards, Carlos Zegarra, Richard & Claudia Bushman, Renato Ruz, Terryl & Fiona Givens, Laurel Thatcher Ulrich and (add your own). They exist in large numbers but don't always toot their horns as much as those out to make the church in their own image--conservative or liberal. More important, they accept that believing is sometimes a heavy burden for those who are different and progressive, but know that it is worth it because their values are best understood within the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Having said that, I want to emphasize that I love the other liberal mormons too, even some of those who act a bit too good for the church. I love their striving for a more just society and their fundamental goodness, but I wish more of them would show those qualities within the body of Christ and not stay aloff and hurt. They might just be surprised how much they can make a difference, and how some "adversaries" are nice people too who will love them even if they don't understand them. And if they don't, they are still God's children which makes it imperative that we love them.

I have been pushing against the grain in the church for decades and while there have been times that I've wanted to throw in the towel, I usually end up responding as did Peter when the Savior asked him if he too would leave, "where will I go?"  In those  moments I 've realized that my experiences within the church have been and continue to be the most important of my life. And the harsh ones have made me a better person. So continue to fight for a better church, one that is open to all, respects everyone within their diversity and is focused on the teachings of Christ, but remember that "a better church" it is not one that is made in our own image, or has our particular values, but rather one that the Lord would call His own.

Soon enough I will write to my conservative Mormon friends!

Independent Thought, Part 2

Academicians are famous for shutting the door to their offices and consuming themselves with their work. It would be easy to mistake that for seeking scholarly or intellectual independence, but it is not always. Sometimes it is simply being focused on one's work or possibly just a chance to take in a few zzz. One version of Intellectual independence is about engaging in work that separates us from the rest. The other is simply doingwork on our own time and space. But at this moment I will speak of the first.

Independent intellectual thought is about bringing something new to the table; creating new ways to think about things; or even to re-examine some ideas that may have been around but were not given much credibility. Independent thought is not always innovative or even "correct" but it does work outside the normal spheres. And yet, at the same time it is not so unique that it has a constituency of one. Some people are unorthodox, others are outrageous but they don't contribute much independent talk.

Wanting independence to engage in arguments and conversations that are healthy and valuable to others is important. I tend to be communal and believe that part of it has to do with growing up in a poor Mexican American barrio and attending a small religious congregation. I learned through that experience to frame much of my work in the context of other people. Now, I will admit that I was--and still am--a loner and engaged in much private thinking. I love my space and sometimes feel uncomfortable in groups unless I have something specific to do. I was never much for fanfare.

At the same time, I feel the necessity to be of use to others This internal conflict was part religious training and part of it came from deep within me. These conflicting parts of me have made me a "good" Mormon but also caused me deep anguish when people aren't willing to give me space. It happened to me for about 10 of my first 17 years here in Provo. It was extremely hard. Eventually I accepted that being independent of thought can at times be lonely. But I never gave up on community--well, not for long periods of time anyway--and now I have mostly found community and at the same time retained much of my independent space. I have stretched my religious and academic communities here, and they have often reigned me in, many times at appropriate times and in appropriate ways. I have found common ground with people who are quite different from me but who have similar final goals.

I have cross boundaries and been able to do a lot of things that I really wanted to do by not abandoning those parts of me that are often in conflict. Sometimes they come together to get me past problems created by one or the other attitude. People who are usually just on one side of the divide between community and individuality are rarely ever independent because they usually succumb to all of the demands of that one side. Those who struggle with the polar opposites are those most likely to be truly independent because they are the final arbitrars of the decisons they make.

Let me say something that will probably anger some people: not everyone is cut out or has the capabilities to be independent of thought and action. If everyone was then there would be no value in independence of thought. And constituencies of one have very little value, except to that individual and then it is a limited one, because to live is to interact.

My Novel is out!

Today I went from being a middling historian to possibly a middling historian/novelist with my first novel in kindle. It was a long-time coming and fulfills a dream I had many years ago. I've worked on this novel for decades as Alex and I raised a family and I went to school to become a scholar. I finished the first draft as I entered graduate school and so I put this away and occasionally re-read and did some tweaking. Then, earlier this year I finally decided to get it done and published.

Part of the dream of writing fiction began when I was quite young. I wrote my first short story when I was about 12 years old, and then began more serious writing when I went to Viet Nam. On my return, I applied to the University of the America's writing program in Puebla, Mexico. I got accepted just about the time that Alex told me that she was pregnant. I chose the safe route and went to school in the states and there I got back into the Chicano Movement and that led me to where I am now. I don't regret this road taken but do admit that I always wondered what it would have been if I had gone to Puebla. My Alex always felt guilty for getting pregnant and us not having gone there; but then she didn't get pregnant on her own and we've had a great ride. But because of that she has been my greatest supporter and motivator to keep writing fiction. This novel would not have been possible without her.

Like all first works it has its limitations but it is a work of love. It is based on my experiences in Viet Nam, though I admit that the truly "heroic" scenes are all fiction. So, if you'd like to help an aspiring (but old) novelist get it on Amazon.com kindle. It's only $1.50. And tell you friends even if you do use a disclaimer like "its the holiday season so I'm trying to be nice to the guy". Its title:  "Can Tho: A Story of Love & War".  Not a great title but you get the point.

No, I won't quit my job, move to Cape Cod, grow a beard, and wear sandals all the time. But I will be smiling for a while.

Finding Independence in our Intellectual lives

While I don't plan on retiring from writing, presenting or teaching any time soon, I do plan to leave the academy full time and do so much earlier than the typical Social Security retiring age. I have no desire to call BYU my last hurrah. I plan to write full time but not for any particular institution or under the "watchful eye" of a boss or administrator. In order to have that day come sooner rather than later, I have given much thought to what it means to be independent.

I use to believe that becoming independent meant having the money to retire and not to be beholden to anyone. Now, after much thought,  I believe that real independence comes from inside and not simply our checkbooks or our undisturbed space . No doubt, we must be able to pay the bills and "our" space is important, super important, but independence really comes when we recognize what is important to us. We decide what we want to do and how we want to do it. Sometimes true independence comes from simply doing what we want to do even if it is in the guise of being an "employee". Other times it comes from having our own business or being freelancers. And at times it is about simply living our writer's and intellectual's life but doing it with less.

I don't see an independent life necessarily in terms of our particular labor situation. There are many things I can do presently in my job. I've traveled to other parts of the world, lived off research funds in different places and been able to write the books I've wanted. I've also designed courses to fit my interests and my style. Some work out and some don't. Sometimes the institution is happy with me and sometimes it doesn't appreciate my take on some social issues, or even my questioning of institutional decisions. But for now the relationship has been fruitful for both. If that changes it is likely that one side or the other will make the move to sever the relationship. That is why I believe in a measured fidelity because relationships always come down to fit. The loyalty is sincere and fruitful but based on mature decision-making.

I believe, then, that independence is a state-of-mind that can be enhanced by a myriad of things: enough money, elbow room, loyalty, good colleagues--or none--and physical space. It also requires belief in the fundamental mission of either one's life or the institution with whom one is affiliated. And needless to say, it needs us to be content with the things we do. I remember when I was in Habana, Cuba there was a street sweeper that had worked in the same neighborhood for over 23 years. He loved his job. People in the neighborhood knew him and appreciated his good work. He had the appropriate tools, had no demanding supervisor, had flexibility and input on how to do his job, and it paid him enough to provide for his family. Despite a very bureaucratic and politicized system he told us he felt free.

I also remember the owners of a small literary magazine who scraped by--with a little help from food stamps--but did marvelous work and helped launched a number of writers, poets and university professors. The couple, and a friend, did most of the work, and their word was the bible for many an aspiring writer. Those individuals found their niche and they were happy, fulfilled and felt important in their world. I don't know what ever happened to the street sweeper--maybe he is in Miami now--but I do know that the magazine eventually folded, but my sense is that those individuals are still plugging away at the things they love. One is--if still alive--probably using his hands and fixing things. The other three are probably now on their computers writing or editing something.

They probably won't leave much to their children except an example of hard work and commitment to a particular chore or love. Being independent is really about fulfillment, and not only a personal but also a collective one. Now, I know some people want to be independent so they can get up when they want to, go to places they like, and be beholden to no one but themselves. That's not the independence I'm talking about though in many ways one can claim to do the same even though one does care to get up, does go to places that might be necessary and is beholden to a higher ethic or cause. Like that of the aforementioned individuals an independent life is ultimately a connected and responsible one.

There are probably some people reading this--I hope someone is reading--that are unhappy where they work or may dislike the actual work itself. I've been there and done that, and in fact there are times when I feel that way even in my cushy job. Circumstances change and sometimes so do people--or bosses and administrators--and they disrupt our equilibrium. But they need not destroy our  desire to do what we most want to do. Our purpose as writers and intellectuals is to write and think. In this case we can always find a way to do it. But we must also find a way to change our situation. It might be our attitude, our job, or profession that needs to change. That is when we realize how hard it is to be independent and how much effort it takes. We spend years going to school and honing our skills, making tough decisions and navigating difficult moments to keep jobs, but the only time we spend on becoming independent in-place or outside of it is when we daydream.

I remember when I first arrived in Viet Nam I ended up with a unit that was vulgar and rather unfriendly. As a religious young man I felt completely uncomfortable and miserable. I prayed for several nights hoping that someone up there would hear me and send me to a better place--no, not heaven--but nothing came. Then one day after a fervent night of supplication, I heard a soft but firm voice say "you change". Now, I must say I was offended. After all I was the (self) righteous soldier of the bunch. But throughout the night I kept hearing the voice. Some of you can understand that you don't win against those voices, so the next morning I changed my attitude, I befriended all those I could, found something good in all that I did, and life started changing for me. Within a short time I was doing the things I wanted to do, creating my space and when I left I was one of the most likedguys in the unit. With it came a greater degree of independence than most people had in a military unit. But all of this came with hard work, eating a lot of crow, and being patient--something I'm not good at.

This is an ongoing process and we must fight and work for our independence constantly just as we do keeping our bosses happy. Independence is hard work no matter the circumstances. It is something we create and nurture and protect. The feeling of independence, even when physically only in our minds, can be liberating and allow us room to think and write. It also forces us to prioritize and to figure what really is important to us.


Next Post:  Some more thoughts on an independent intellectual life

Counter-intuitive Thanksgiving

I believe in being grateful. As such Thanksgiving Day is a special time for me and I always seek to enjoy it with family and friends. My children are possessive with their parents so with them we consume not only turkey but our whole day. Friends come before and after.

There is much to be grateful for but often times we try to forget those tough lessons that make us better. So this season I'm grateful for some of the "bad" things that have blessed my life.

Being born poor in the West Side of San Antonio. In my poverty I met some rather wonderful people who taught me how to value life. I learned about religion, charity, service, hard work and commitment from those who truly believed in those things and not because they were going to benefit from them in this life.

For my incredible inferiority complex. It has forced me to work harder, to empathize with those who doubt themselves and are born on the wrong side of the tracks. It has kept me from being coopted by glitz of the world, and away from bad company.

For my spiritual doubts. They have brought me highs and lows but they remind me that life is complicated, that God is there always but we have to look for him, that things are not as simple as they seem, and that no one has a monopoly on spirituality--this was especially important when Iserved as bishop of congregation.

For a particular group of lesbian/feminsts who misinterpreted something I said and have engaged on a continual attack on me in articles, conference presentations and book chapters for the last 15 years. They taught me to be more precise in my scholarship, to respect those who vehemently disagree with me, and that while life is not fair, I must always play fair lest I do something to someone that they have done to me.

For the rejection of my second scholarly book by the University of Wisconsin Press. I redoubled my efforts and found a press that did a better job of promoting it than the one in Madison. It also reminded me how lucky I am to be a scholar and to publish material that finds respect in some quarters.

For having some misguided students while I headed the university's Washington Seminar Internship program. They taught me that sometimes things are going bad when you think they're going good, and that there will be times when we will love those we instruct, pray for them, and spend sleepless nights worrying about them and they will still think we don't care about them. They shook my faith in young people and then helped me regain it when a number of them apologized later and others came to my defense.

For bad BYU football seasons because they reminded me that sports are not that important and obsession over them usually takes a university where it shouldn't go. But also because it gave me some wonderful moments with my grandchildren who loved going but were sometimes anxious to leave after the first quarter of a closely contested game. They taught me priorities.

For BYU women's volleyball teams in the early years because they were not very good but the young women lived their principles by telling the referee that they had touched the ball as it went out, thus losing the game. It reminded me that integrity has more meaning when it actually hurts to live it.

For some young colleagues who thought I was a real "jerk" for being a tough rank and status committee chair. They forced me to stand my ground and defend that part of the academic process that is good. Yet, they also made me sensitive to its unfair parts and more committed to mentoring young scholars. Because of the decisions I made we now have a tougher but fairer system in our department. Of course, a new batch of young scholars probably think I'm still a jerk.

For independent children. They have made me doubt myself and caused me countless sleepless nights in which I've drenched my pillow with my tears. Yet, I love their passion.  They've made me understand that all of us have our own lives, that we pay for our own mistakes, and that things can still be all right. They have also allowed me to smirk when I see them struggle with their own kids.

For this blog. It shows how little I actually have to say and "puts me in my place".

For growing old. It forces me to seek maturity, to choose goals more carefully and yet frees me from long-term entanglements. It also allows me to "fake it" when the younger runners pass me by.

Finally, for every trial and tribulation yet to come this year. They won't be nice but they'll have their intended consequences and I'll be much better for them.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Creating Communities

Historian Richard Bushman once said that all scholars seek a community in which they find support and friendships. No one really likes to be alone even if they do work pretty much alone. The sense of community for scholars, writers, teachers, artists, etc. is simply a reflection of their desire to share, to feel supported, and to know that there is someone "out there".

This "community" is not always about close friends or people who obsess over all we do, but it is about a group of individuals who have a common interest, who like to share some part of their work or thoughts, and who are willing to give feedback. For young scholars or those who are making a change in their scholarship, these communities can be critical. Most scholars, artists, and teachers--as well as a host of others in other professions--will vouch for the value of having a community.

In today's internet era, these communities seem to pop up more regularly and there seems to be an abundance of them, and all seemingly ready to accept new members. The dilemma, however, with most of these communities is that they do not really provide the feedback that someone really needs to grow in their vocation. The one-liners rarely provide enough to gleam anything of value, but more importantly these community "members" are often only momentarily interested. Given that the internet allows people to feel empowered to comment on everything without having to really open themselves to serious rebuttal, you receive all kinds of useless feedback.

But even more problematic in these communities is the "overload" they engage in. Most of these communities's interactions turn into a constant posting of "new" material with an accompnaying litany of one-line comments, followed by more postings and so on. The internet has made it easy to grab material from every corner of the scholarly or published world and to share it with whomever is willing to click a URL. This posted material has no sequence, logic nor does it necessary build upon the prior postings. It is tempting to keep "clicking" until one's brain becomes mush, unfortunately, being good at something does not always mean knowing everything about that something. Constructing something valuable is about analyzing, deciphering, and selecting what is appropriate to include in any project.

 Commnities can initiatlly come together naturally but rarely do they remain so unless borders are set and the members nurture and maintain a set of values for their particular community. These communities may be transnavigable but they are not without boundaries. Since there is no real formality in these communities self-deportation--to use a Mitt Romney term--is usally the way they remain focused. Those boundaries, however, remain fluid and not rigid because as interests and subjects change so does the membership within them. Needless to say, in one's professional life there will be a lot of transnavigating in and out of communities.

The key to a successful community is that it is self-motivating and provides a space for open discussion. People feel that their ideas are appreciated but are considered challengeable. Since it is not a forum for refereeing work one can see the comments as a discussion of one's work and not as a judgment of it. People can disagree but they must do so in the context of adding to the conversation and not arguing a point. So a comment like "what about this approach" or "have you thought about" is better than "you're wrong" or "where did you come up with that". The sooner that a community is bound by respect and a little bit of admiration, the sooner it becomes a valuable asset to the members.

Valuable communities, however, are possible only when its members actually engage fully in the type of work that brought people together. It cannot be a grouping of two stars and a whole bunch of meteorites. Communities are an asset only when they are composed of equals, even though there are some more equal than others. Communities are not only about responding to a posting or a discussion but about creating a reason for interaction. This does not mean constant conversations or discussions, but the less one participates the more likely the boundaries of the community change and soon one might find him/herself outside the peripheies. It is then when one realizes that another community might be more appropriate.

As I mentioned earlier, young scholars, writers, teachers, etc. and those shifting fields are more likely to need communities than those who are more seasoned and who are pretty much invested in a particular field. The reason: we all need fans and people willing to spread the word about our work, and who can defend our flank when we are busy repulsing the enemy on the other flanks. Also, they provide encouragement, ideas, new ways of looking at things, and sometimes they even provide news of an opportunity. The community also shows to others that what we do is important enough that it has gathered a dedicated group of individuals to reason together about it.

There will be times in which we are not particularly interested in one becaue of the nature of our work, or simply because there are no others with the same interest. That happens. And its okay. But in most other cases it is better to have one.

Intellect, Scholarship & Lingo that is Worlds Apart

When I was a young soldier in Valley Forge Surgical Hospital I became seriously interested in writing. While I had yearnings before, it was at the base library that I began checking out books on writing and expanded even more my reading lists. I also got to meet--and ended up debating--young soldiers from throughout the country, particularly those from the East Coast. Most came from good schools, having been drafted either after graduation from college or while taking a short break from the books. These easterners were not shy about expressing their disdain for someone they considered to be a country bumpkin from Texas with few literary or rhetorical skills. That I was Mexican and Mormon only re-affirmed in their minds that I was not very smart and even less intellectual.

They were right but it was not because I lacked brains, but rather that I lacked the kind of reading experience and the schooling that they had received given their economic and social status.  While I went on to read a lot, get a Ph.D. and write six books I imagine our "sophistication" gap has never narrowed. We simply valued education in a different way. For most of them education was about maintaining what they had and making more of it. For me, it has always been about learning to make a difference for other people. But probably just as influential in our divergence is that their education was Euro-American centric while mine has been Third World. Consequently, when we spoke we spoke with a different terminology and we contextualized the world differently even when we might have shared some political or ideological views.

I see that in my relationship with some of my colleagues here at the Y. What we are interested in determines much of what we study and pay attention to. And so we speak different scholarly languages. Consequently, when my colleagues who teach ancient Greece and Rome, the Enlightenment, or Atlantic World history speak and write, they all sound more intellectual and knowledgeable than I do. They know writers, philosophers, artists, etc that I have often never heard of.  Of course, the same applies to them in reverse when I am doing the presentations.

They go to different concerts, art shows, festivals and listen to some rather different music, much of which I have never gotten into. Their world is rather different from mine. And I would say very different from that of most Chicano and scholars of color. In conversations and discussion I find them intelligent but no more than I or even my colleagues who teach in other marginalized subfields in today's academy. A colleague who does western history and I often joke that while others in the department are traveling to Venice, Athens, Paris, Tokyo, etc. he visits Yuma, Arizona and I spend a lot of time in South Texas towns where I mostly eat Church's Chicken and "cool off" in hot-water hotel swimming pools.

He and I rarely connect our work and our historiography to the great works on the European continent and we rarely spruce up our prose with poetry, lyrics and musings from the "greats" which is common in those fields. So, what does this have to do with anything? Possibly nothing and maybe everything when it comes to scholarship.

The scholarly community is as class-based as anything else in our Western world. If you went to school in the Ivy League or the few other major universities in the country your job applications are likely to get you past the first cut, and your dissertation topics are likely to "sound" and be appreciated as rather innovative. You will, of course, learn and use "global" terminology. So instead of studying Puerto Rico, you are studying the Atlantic world and you won't study slavery in the south but a comparative Afro-Carribean world that stretches from the Bahamas to Brazil. Scholars' actual knowledge of  these areas is superficial by the sheer nature of their size, but the "large historiography" they manage make them sound like intellectual and profoundly knowledgeable scholars. In those disciplines you don't study people but races, not towns but global communities, and you don't necessarily worry about what happens to neighbors but you will be concerned with how national capitals interact.

Now, there isn't anything wrong with any of that but there isn't anything particularly great about that kind of scholarship either. I remember going to lunch with a candidate who spoke of the Atlantic world and used all kinds of comparative terminology, but at the end of the talk I figured he was simply talking about imperialism but from a different angle. I had no problem with what he was doing and he has turned out to be an incredible colleague, but in the end his work was not that much different than what others had been doing before. It was simply conceptualized with different terms and presented in a different way. And in an uncharacteristicly good scholarly prose.

I think sophisticated, Eurocentric terminology has its place but in of itself is not any better than what it is. I think most seasoned scholars understand this but not all young scholars do. It is the same thing in Latino history where for the last decade literary people who claimed history to be irrelevant a decade before are now using history with a literary bent to prove that others lack theoretical solidity. Instead of being what they purport to be, the "literary histories" they produce are often works with an over abundance of terminology and interpretation that makes the language more important than the actual history of a place or a people. I know, to them language is suppose to be more important. But them saying it does not make it so.

I'm not anti-post modernist nor do I discredit scholarship on whiteness, color, sexuality, literary criticism, etc., but I do believe that its adherents need to stop assuming that their scholarship stands above other more traditionally-written one. Some of them also need to deal more with documents, archival materials, oral histories, and, yes, stories and not just multiple layers of interpretations or play with words.There is much that we can continue to learn from their approach but its "originality" has worn off and it has to grow beyond its avant-garde, or as I like to put it, its dissertation/graduate school phase.

This brings me back to my original story. Much of this eastern "lingo" used against me then was just that "lingo". Now, I don't know what happned to most of those soldiers. Some probably went on to prominence in the fields they chose. But I'm sure that few of them ever thought I would amount to much given my Texas roots and my ethnic background. And as I mentioned earlier, if we were to ever meet again it is likely that my books, endowed chair and my academic reputation would probably not impress them much. And it would  not surprise me. Quite early I knew our worlds were, well, worlds apart. It was fine then and it is now.

We are who we've become: I'm a Mormon Scholar

Most of life is an unplanned journey--unless, of course, you are Barack Obama or Mitt Romney, both who seemed to have planned to be "somebodies" early in their lives. The rest of us have done as much planninng as we could but often have been carried by the currents of the small choices we made. No doubt there were times in which we have surfed the waves, glided above the vallies, and rode fast on the highways of life. But at other times we simply held our breath long enough to finally pop up for air. In each circumstance we've learned a little and possibly grew a lot. Probably done the latter more often in bad times than in good ones.

Each of us has taken a particular road, one often designed by who our parents were, where we lived, and what was happening around us when we came of age. At the same time, most of were not simply dragged by events. We made decisions and took actions. Over time our decision-making made us who we have become. Whether that is what we want to be or not, or whether that's the end, is something unique to each person. But here is part of my story:

When I reminesce about my life I usually start with the memory of a pecan tree in the east back side of the little Mormon church I attended. The building had once been used by Anglo Mormons and in fact was the first Mormon chapel built in San Antonio, Texas. By the time my family came to San Antonio from Mexico, it had become an old building and one relegated to the Mexicans in the church as most White Mormons had moved to the northside.

The importance of the tree, besides the delicious pecans that dropped seasonly, was that it was a place to sit under and think. The church lay behind it, you could see the cars pass on your left and see the barrio people take out the trash on the right. Though the chapel sat on a corner it did have ample space on one side, an alley on another and it shouldered against a branch of the public library on the other, thus providing a contained but large space in which to contemplate life.

What did I think about when I sat under that tree? I thought about being "somebody". At first it was about getting out of poverty, having a house of my own, a good job, and an honorable reputation. But soon as the Mormon teachings dug deep inside, it became about serving God, my fellow(wo)men, and making the world a better place for all of God's children. And it was about personal discipline.

For me, religion became all encompassing by the time I became "active" in church at about the age of 15. Baptized at14, it took me about a year to become fully engaged. Once I did I completely immersed myself in the "gospel". But while doctrines, commandments, and rituals were important, for a young men like me the "everyday theology" became even more meaningful initially because it gave me experiences mostly impossible in my circumstances.

My family was quite poor and while not destitute, we bordered on the edge of economic disaster for years. I was also rather shy and had a horrendous inferiority complex. I had little to look forward to in life in spite of my parent's ambitions for my brother and I until I became a "Mormon boy". Then, I became a scout, a member of the choir, a seminarian, a bishop's messenger, a home teacher, youth leader, second baseman on the softball team, a setter on the volleyball team, a translator, and a part-time missionary. I came out in church plays, participated in speech festivals, attended youth conferences, "counseled" adults and even became a teacher in the church's primary program at age 17 or maybe it was 16.

My literary tastes expanded from biography to religion, scripture, history, science and literature. I also began practicing--in private--giving and writing "talks" which is what most Mormons call preaching. I also became interested in leadership traits, all things often beyond the concern of a teenager in the barrio. All of these came about because of the Mormon concept of "eternal progression", which teaches that there is no limit to learning or to growing intellectually as well as spiritually.

At the same time that I was opening up to a spiritual world, I became interested in the activism occuring in my barrio at the time. San Antonio was torned by racial politics as Mexican Americans fought for their civil rights and simply to be allowed to live in peace. Given my religious views I could not fanthom why anyone would deny someone his/her rights. And why was there so much poverty in a land of plenty? In a short time my religious fervor mingled with my political awakening. Latino Mormonism has always focused strongly on a communitarian brother/sisterhood, and in one's responsibility to the poor and the afflicted.

I had to learn to "live in the world but not be of it" which is probably the hardest thing that a scholar of faith needs to learn. You should be compassionate and charitable yet stand against what you think is wrong even if it is politically or socially unpopular. You can't be seduced by needs of the poor to a point that you are not willing to point out how of their problems are self-inflicted. And you can't be fooled by the piety of the well-to-do and their charitable giving. For the scholar of faith righteousness does not belong to one political party or another, one ideology or the other. Good and evil are found on all sides, yet you don't have the luxury of simply picking "the lesser of two evils".  

The fervor to be in good standing with my God, to help my people, and my love of reading and writing all combined to make me the Chicano/Mormon scholar that I am today. The church gave me the spiritual foundation, the desire to "skill" myself, and the struggle for human rights gave me an earthly purpose. Becoming an activist, community organizer, journalist and then a professor widened my horizons and made me even more sensitive to the world around me.

More importantly, I served as a Mormon bishop twice and that, more than anything else, caused me to look deep inside of me to find out if I truely cared for people; to ask myself if the things I did were good for the people around me or just for me. It made me realize that true personal validation--of the kind that I yearned for as a poor boy--came not from what I accomplished but how I served others. It took time and even now I have not fully integrated those ideas within me but they are always present in the things I do, the books I write and the courses I teach.

I don't know what I would have thought of myself if I could have been able to get a glimpse of my future back then. Given that our youthful imagination and our desires have few limits, I probably would have said, "good start, now let's 'be better than what you have become'". Nonetheless, it is that search to fulfill my youthful desires that keeps me going both as a person and as a scholar.

When we don't understand how we got to where we are and when we don't seek to validate our deepest and most sincere desires we find life less than fulfilling. We all have had our pecan tree and our dreams and it is good to ask ourselves periodically if we are seeking to fulfill them. Sometimes the journey can be as fruitful as the arriving.