Tag: change

Living · Reading · Uncategorized

Apologia: In Defense of Trans Becoming

Alison Baker4 Comments

(First, if you don’t recognize the literary genre of the apology, no worries. It’s old and underused. Just know it’s a genre; I’m not sorry for anything.)

I find myself baffled by all the anti-trans legislation in various stages around the country. I understand that differences intimidate people, but I stand firm in the conviction that we should embrace and nurture our individual differences, rather than drive wedges between groups of people. Years of studying mythology, literature, and history have taught me that humanity works best when we work together (Dante says it is in our unity that we can aspire to divinity), so I question all that would divide us. And Ovid’s Metamorphoses is literally a whole work organized around the principle of change–not incidentally, then, there are characters like Iphis and Caenis who change gender.

Today I want to talk about individuals.

We all become who we are by pruning away bits we don’t want and adding new ones. We may stop smoking or quit a job or a habit that makes us unhappy. We may move and learn how to navigate a new environment, letting our perspective broaden with new experiences. We grow by learning, leaving behind older versions of ourselves.

Our bodies change too, becoming stronger and more coordinated when we’re young, and then less so again as we age (she says with her reading glasses perched on her head and a pulled muscle from going up stairs). Every time we lose weight on purpose or gain weight for muscle and strength, we change our bodies for what we hope will be a better self. Every time we practice a new skill, study a new subject, or read a new book, we realize a little more mental potential. And every time we adopt self-care habits or practice spirituality, we tend to and develop our souls.

With all these glorious changes going on every day in every person, why in the name of humanity would we draw a line where some of these changes happen to be related to gender? Right now, everyone you know is changing: kids are becoming adults; novices are becoming experts; monolinguals are becoming polyglots; couch potatoes are becoming athletes; people are becoming parents and grandparents and cousins; dabblers are becoming artists, and yes, some people are becoming women or men or discovering they’re non-binary.

Change is inevitable. Some of it happens without conscious effort, and we still praise it, as when children hit milestone birthdays or “graduate” from kindergarten. How much more do we celebrate protracted, conscientious efforts to become better versions of ourselves, as when we learn a trade, finish a rehab program, gain a certification or a degree, train for a marathon, or commit to a calling? We should show the same support for and celebrate those who are stepping into their true gender. It’s just another way to unfurl the butterfly’s wings.

And if that doesn’t work, we can always just focus on our own growth and let others get on with theirs.

Teaching · Uncategorized

Back to School: Fall 2021

Alison Baker1 Comment

What. A. Year.

And by “year” I mean 17 months that feel like five years. And by “what” I mean quelle castastrophe, che bello, que año de cambios.

How are you? Are you still there? What is left and lost and undone and reshaped of you? I am tired. But just now, quiet and still and hopeful.

I’m teaching on campus again–just one class–so far, just one hour. And one of my husband’s classes was moved online after one day, so I’m very clear how precarious everything is, but one hour is more than I got all last year, and it was glorious—masks and anxiety and all.

It’s Myth as Literature again. And myth reminds me to think broadly, and we start with Ovid’s Metamorphoses, which reminds me to notice how beautiful humanity is and how ubiquitous change is, and I can feel some of my mushy insides congealing into a new butterfly.

So here is a teeny blog for re-emerging, as the academic year begins:

I hope you are finding parts of yourself you didn’t know were there and that you put them to use.

I hope if you’ve been working, you’re staying safe; if you’re rejoining the in-person workforce, I hope you’ve been safe and you begin to feel more confident every day.

I hope where you’ve lost has been healing, and that those holes give you some new perspectives to help you move forward.

I hope you read some things that distract you and challenge you that aren’t news items. And I hope you have the means and space and energy to pursue something new during this transition.

I hope you have let yourself grieve and continue to. And I hope even more that you let yourself rejoice.

And I hope when we get this pandemic under control and start thinking about how we want to live this next phase of our lives, we can agree that a butterfly would be beautiful, but a phoenix would be even better.

Living · Writing

Metamorphosis–Giving Myself Permission to Change

Alison BakerLeave a comment
I got my fifteen year pin at work. That’s half a career. It feels like a perfect time to shift some gears.
I sometimes have to remind myself not to be afraid of change. I’m pretty good about trying new foods and restaurants, but big changes, I resist. I’m done moving. I chose a career with job security.  I’ve been married to the same guy pretty much all of my adult life.
But I know change is good. I know it’s invigorating, and I know it’s necessary. Since I’m not willing to trade in my husband for another model, it had to be work that changes.
I certainly am not stopping teaching, although some shifts are coming there too, as we change to semesters, and I step out of the King Arthur class and in to some new territory after “semester conversion.”  But this is a multi-faceted job I’m in, so I’m shaking things up in terms of writing.  Really, I’m giving myself permission to revisit a dream.
If you had asked me at fifteen what I wanted to do when I grew up, I’d have said write, and at that point, I’d have meant poetry. I wrote a lot when I was young, but I could never have been so bold as to try to make a career out of writing creatively.
After about twenty-five more years of reading, though, I feel like I have something to write.
It started with a book for my kids. After reading so many books to them, I felt like I could tell where the gaps were, and what worked and didn’t work. But I still wasn’t ready to commit to thinking of myself as a writer.  It took five years to write one little novel. The kids I wrote it for have grown up; that doesn’t sound like I’m a writer—more like a scratcher in the sand.
This year, though, I’m picking up speed. I got awarded a sabbatical to wrap up the novel. That was very validating. I started a blog about reading. It turns out that counts as writing! Before I finished my first novel, I started thinking about the second one. And as I start getting in to critique groups and searching for an agent, I find I have reached a critical mass of baby steps toward a new identity and now don’t feel like an impostor when I call myself a writer.
There is a delicate dance, being a reader and a writer, and we can go from being one to another and back again in an endless circle. I have always considered myself a reader, but only a dilettante writer.  But I have come around to writer again, and this time I’m not begging off.
The best bit of wisdom my dad ever gave me was “If you do what you love, you’ll never work again.”  At the time, I dropped the biology degree and ran headlong in to literature and languages.  And he was right (except for grading). What he forgot is that there can be more than one thing you love.