Mondays, Writing and Alone-ness

I am so tired on Monday mornings! I should be ready to get back to work and produce knowledge, rejuvenated from a restful weekend. I always start the summer with all these plans to get so much done. I need to be writing and revising papers. Isn't that what this academic gig is all about? Then why does writing keep getting pushed to the back burner?

Am I avoiding my academic writing because it's hard? I don't think so. I like to tell myself that it is hard, but when I actually sit down to do it, it ain't so bad. Once I am doing it, I actually enjoy it.

So what is it? I really need to figure this out. I have a sense of urgency--something a senior colleague told me is necessary for success. But how much urgency is too much?? I'm losing sleep over this, having dreams (nightmares) about my first review. That ain't good.

I have been proactive, though. I have to, to keep my anxiety over this tenure thang manageable. I participated in Dr. Kerry Ann Rockquemore's teleconference on "Writing, Procrastination and Resistance" a few months ago. A very good workshop that helped me realize that I really need to think about what is getting in the way of me making a daily commitment to academic writing. I've also been reading (over and over again) Dr. Rockquemore's book, The Black Academic's Guide to Winning Tenure Without Losing Your Soul. I'll keep y'all apprised of my writing progress in this regard in future posts.

On another note, this past week I went to the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation New Connections Symposium. That was both inspiring and a little overwhelming. There were about 100 (no, that ain't a typo) researchers of color. We had lots of time to talk with each other about our work. I heard lots of junior folks like me talk about life on their campuses and they were very similar to mine. My experiences as an underrepresented faculty aren't "in my head" or me being "too sensitive."

I think the most important thing I learned there is that I am not alone. I knew that intellectually, but at the symposium, I felt it. That's a good thing.

Are you a "strong black woman?"

I have decided I am not. Or, rather, that I won't be any more. It is too hard.

I have had a rough couple of weeks on the faculty front. I am really struggling with whether all the stress is worth it. I feel like I can never stop working. That has been especially hard to deal with the last month or so because my daughter ended up in the psychiatric ward at the local children's hospital, followed by two weeks of a partial hospitalization program. Needless to say, I've been absent from my office a lot the past month and not working as much as I should be.

One of the things I am most interested in is mental health. Specifically, how being a parent, employee and partner/spouse affects our mental health. Black women have always done it all, but at what price? What is up with the "strong black woman" stereotype? I think that is what led to my daughter's hospitalization--she didn't want to share her feelings or cry or let people know how angry she was. The fact that she never sees me do those things didn't help.

We (black women) tend to wear our strength like a mantle. We wrap it around ourselves and hold on tight. We roll our eyes at the drama queens, wondering why they just can't learn to "handle their business." We don't talk about mental illness, even though too many of us know someone who has "bad nerves" or is "just crazy" or has committed suicide.

And by doing so, give ourselves the burden of not being able to expose the anger, pain, disillusionment, hurt without feeling like we are not being who we are at our core--black women who have struggled and overcome, continue to struggle and overcome.

At least that is how I feel.

But going through this experience with my daughter has shown me that she is the strong one. She was willing to ask for help when she needed it, instead of hurting herself. And she is learning that it is much harder to let all those feelings out than to act like nothing bothers you and everything is okay.

Now it is my turn.