Week three of classes--already knocked down by a cold

At least I hope it's just a cold. I've been coughing a lot the last day or two, so I don't know if it's getting worse or turning the corner. Just started taking Robitussin, though that hasn't helped much yet. I had to teach via Zoom today and might need to again tomorrow. I'm not a big fan of running a large class through Zoom, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The students seem interested and involved, though, which is good. 

I'm enjoying the rhetoric class so far, though sometimes our conversation takes odd turns. Today we were talking about Lloyd Bitzer's foundational article, "The Rhetorical Situation," and a student's question ended up leading me to reflect on the "intentional fallacy" and the New Critical approach to literary criticism that I was (at least partly) educated in. I have since tended to take a more rhetorical approach to reading literature, though. (I remember when I was presenting about Vern Sneider and A Pail of Oysters on a panel about East Asia in Anglophone fiction--I looked over at the copy of my paper that one of my co-panelists had printed out and saw that she had written in the margin, "Intentional fallacy?" Was that her response to my whole paper?)

These disconnected recollections are brought to you by my cough syrup. More later...

Social media quandaries

In the week or so leading up to the beginning of the fall semester, I've cut back a lot on my use of LinkedIn, which is my only remaining active social media account after I deleted my Facebook and Twitter accounts (the latter a couple of times!) and stopped using my Bluesky account. (I'm not counting YouTube, LINE, or this account.) I deleted the LI app from my phone and logged out of LI on my computers (though admittedly, I've "checked" it once or twice since initially doing that).

This morning when I got up, I thought about whether I should just delete the LinkedIn entirely. As with all of the social media accounts I've had, I find that I have learned a lot from LI about events going on that I'm interested in, people's publications and presentations that are often relevant to my interests, information that is useful that I probably wouldn't think of searching for, etc. So when I think of deleting it, the FOMO is real. 

On the other hand, I've (mostly) gotten along OK without Facebook and Twitter and the other platforms since I left them, Admittedly, I do end up on the "public" side of FB once in a while when I'm searching for something, and when I was in Taiwan this past summer, I was talking to someone about my Ts'ai T'iech-ch'eng research and he recommended contacting a number of sources who only seem to be available through FB. (This leads to my second quandary that I've had since that conversation: should I or shouldn't I rejoin Facebook--just to contact these people or organizations? Knowing me, it seems like a slippery slope.) 

I guess for now I'll keep the LI account but just not visit it--too busy, anyway. It might end up going the way of my Bluesky account, which I think is still there if I could remember how to log into it. Or I might eventually pull the plug on it entirely, and join the un-social-mediated (or whatever you'd call it). I see the results are mixed, but from this sample, most people are positive about the change. If anyone reading this has tried disconnecting, let me know your thoughts!

New school year's resolutions?

I was going to write up my resolutions for the new academic year as I've done in the past, but I noticed that last year I didn't really make any resolutions besides the idea (or fantasy) of getting more sleep. Maybe I should have specified that I should do that sleeping at night rather than taking long naps in the middle of the day.

I also came across this article from Jessi Gold, a wellness officer and professor of psychiatry. She suggests, among other things, that you should "consider words or values" instead of resolutions. This way you're not making specific but impossible-to-keep resolutions like "read a book a week" or something like that but rather suggesting "an intention."

So I'm going to go with a word or value for this year that I'd like to keep in mind. One of the things that I got from rereading my dissertation in preparation for the Shansi roundtable this past summer was the reminder about how enthusiastic the Shansi Reps were in the classroom. I think that with a few exceptions, it has been more difficult for me lately to maintain (or even start with) enthusiasm when I'm teaching. Whether it's just regular burnout or a combination of that, the current political and institutional climates, and the rise of GenAI, it's harder for me to look forward to the new academic year with a positive outlook. And if I'm not enthusiastic, how can I expect students to be enthusiastic? 

So I'm going to try to keep the word "enthusiasm" in mind this academic year. 

Revisiting my dissertation

As I have mentioned a couple of times, I'm going to be participating in a roundtable on the Oberlin Shansi Memorial Association in China and Taiwan. I got an email early this morning that suggested that we are supposed to submit our presentation materials by July 5, which was a bit of a surprise. But I happened to have time today to do some work on it. So I woke up and got going on it. 

The actual presentation (which I haven't done much of even now!) is only supposed to be five minutes long, but I also want to be ready for the roundtable discussion. We have worked up some questions that we'll discuss, so I spent the day going through them and drafting some responses. Doing that required me to read through parts of my dissertation and some of my dissertation notes from 15+ years ago. Some people have told me that they're horrified when they try to reread their dissertations, but I don't feel that way. Oh, there are some cringey places in it, and I've found more typos than I care to think about, but generally reading through it is a pleasurable experience. (As I told my brother, I think it's because my dissertation is so full of quotations of people who are smarter than I am!) 

Reading the dissertation also brings back memories of the process of writing it, which was also (generally speaking) enjoyable. I have heard people talk about how their dissertation process was painful, and I'm sure there were painful aspects to mine, but I actually enjoyed reading and studying the archival documents, interviewing former Shansi reps, and putting it all together.* It wasn't all roses and cheese (to borrow my 11-year-old's phrase--don't ask me what it means!), but maybe because I took so long to write it (9+ years), I had time to "live" with the documents and the interviews and use them to sort of create a virtual Oberlin Shansi world in my mind. Rereading my dissertation brings all of the experience back to mind. It also allows me to make connections between what I knew then and what I have learned since then about Taiwan and about US-Taiwan relations through my work on George Kerr. I think the continued learning and making these connections is something that keeps me alive and keeps my few remaining brain cells working!

*Though it got a little scary when I started having dreams about Nicolas Cage helping me with it...

Things I'm not regretting

Spring break is almost over for me, and if I had one, my to-do list would still be full.

• I didn't clean my study.
• I didn't finish that humanities fellowship application.
• I didn't do our taxes.
• I didn't go to a Fairbank Center presentation about Taiwan's legal status.

I did finish grading (which is why I didn't go to the presentation). And I did do a little research for something we needed to add to a one of the Kerr biography chapters. In any case, though, I'm not going to regret not getting much done during my spring break. I got some rest, which is important. Next week it's back to work, and I think I'll be grateful for having gotten that rest.

[Update, 3/7/26: I did our taxes last night. It took only an hour and a half!]

Things I'm avoiding

Besides grading, I'm avoiding three things that all would be good for me. One is doing some stretching (or even physical therapy) for my back, which got worse after the last big epic snow shoveling session. Folks have been suggesting PT, but that would involve figuring out how to get that covered by insurance, and I don't have the bandwidth for that right now.

The second thing is cleaning my study. I might work on this during my spring break (though I'll be doing something else then that I've been putting off--taxes). Cleaning up this room might make it less depressing to sit in here to work. Might make it easier to find things, too.

Speaking of finding things, the other thing I'm putting off cleaning up is my LibraryThing account. Does anyone still use LibraryThing? I used to faithfully record all my book purchases in it, and I even recorded which boxes I had put which books in when we moved from Taiwan. But like my study, my LibraryThing is a mess. It looks like I haven't added anything to it in over 10 years. The reason I mention it is that I'm having trouble finding some of my books (or finding out if I even own particular books that I thought I owned). Something else to clean up one of these days?

I'm mainly writing this because I see I only have one post for February. Now I have two.

New title for my offline journal?

It occurred to me this morning to change the name of my offline journal, which I've been keeping for the better part of 20 years. Right now it's called "Thoughts and Frustrations," which comes from the original purpose of the journal, which was to be a place where I would brainstorm, draft, and reflect on the process of my dissertation. Looking through some earlier journals this morning (as I often do on the first of the month), I have to admit I was impressed by my ability to focus so well on my academic work. 

After I finished the dissertation and moved to the US in 2011, the journal's purpose has broadened and my "thoughts and frustrations" have extended beyond academic work to life in general. I also suspect that it reflects less focused thinking more generally. I'm reminded of a study from a decade or so ago that used text mining to look at the novels of Agatha Christie to determine whether they indicated the onset of Alzheimer's. I had the thought this morning to run my 20 years' worth of journals through AI to see what conclusions it might come to regarding my cognitive state, but I have no desire to have all my private thoughts subjected to whatever Claude might want to do with them.

At any rate, based on those reflections, I am toying with the idea of renaming my offline journal "A Record of My Decline." Catchy, isn't it?

The dangers of long, deep dives into the correspondence of a grumpy former diplomat

I wonder if anyone else has experienced this--you spend hours, days, weeks, months... reading the archived correspondence of your biographical subject as he goes through his life, inevitably aging and perhaps losing some of his inhibitions (if he ever had any) in the way he expresses himself. 

Then you turn to write some emails and find, to your horror (or perhaps not really to your horror!), that you're writing in something very closely approximating his voice. Somehow you've absorbed his jaded, cantankerous style of writing (which might not be that far from how you're feeling anyway--after all, it's pretty easy to feel jaded and cantankerous these days, amirite?), and before you know it, you've hit the "Send" button, and a message goes out that makes you sound like someone who is tired of life and mad at the world. 

Is Kerr doing that to me or are his letters just bringing to the surface what's already there?

Need some motivation

My course materials are "published" ahead of time--classes start Wednesday, although I don't need to meet with in-person students until Friday. I'm trying to spend as much time as possible before then working through some George Kerr correspondence as a contribution to a chapter on Kerr's later years. Lots of uplifting talk of his trials and tribulations with getting Licensed Revolution published; getting Asian art objects sold to keep body and soul together; dealing with aging and being robbed and becoming more and more cantankerous; trying to finish a book about Hawai'ian King Kalākaua, about whom Kerr was becoming less and less enamored the more he wrote about him (how well I know the feeling...). 

Speaking of King Kalākaua, I recently bought a copy of Tiffany Lani Ing's book, Reclaiming Kalākaua: Nineteenth-Century Perspectives on a Hawaiian Sovereign (2019), which promised a more sympathetic evaluation of the man than he has traditionally received. Kerr isn't cited in the book, but that is not surprising, considering that he never published his manuscript on Kalākaua. Ing's book relies more on Hawai'ian-language sources than many of the other books written about Kalākaua. Like the writers of these other books, Kerr did not have access to (i.e., couldn't read) the Hawai'ian language. 

For an introduction to Ing's book--by the author herself--you can watch this video (I need to watch it later because I need to get back to the Kerr correspondence now!):

Not exactly off to a good start...

So after writing about my resolution yesterday, I stayed up until after 2:00 this morning working on my course materials for the new semester. I have one course ready and two to finish. Woke up late this morning and got back to work. Took a break to shovel out the driveway with my son, who was eager to shovel snow for some reason. I think tonight, I will try to go to bed earlier. I need to get myself (and our son, who doesn't go to sleep until we do!) back to a more normal sleeping schedule. Wish me luck!

Another "midterm" reflection on my "new year's resolutions" from August

I did this last year, I see, so I'm going to end the year with a note on my somewhat unambitious resolutions for the 2025-26 academic year. Mainly, I resolved to get more sleep. As I recall, however, although it might be said that I got more sleep, I didn't really do it at the right times. A lot of my sleeping was done during the day (like between classes), and this resulted in--and resulted from--trouble sleeping at night. I hope that I can start sleeping through the night now. (I'm working on that.) 

I am still working on the GHK biography with my colleagues; that's quite a bit of work. I'd like to read more books--over the break I've read two so far (three if you count the Hardy Boys book I bought that was ostensibly for my son). Maybe I'll have time to finish a third before classes start. We'll see what happens. 

So we'll stick with the unambitious sleeping resolution, I suppose. Maybe fine-tune it to say that I'll sleep more when I should be sleeping.

I can just imagine the ads I'm going to end up seeing pop up after posting this!

No "new book(s) in the former native speaker's library" for a while

Since professional development funds in my college have been cut by 80% and the new purchasing/reimbursement system is unnecessarily baroque (no disrespect to Baroque--I actually like the period's art and music!), I've stopped buying books for the near future. 

It has been tough--I keep seeing books like Anna Beth Keim's Heaven Does Not Block All Roads: A History of Taiwan Through the Life of Huang Chin-tao that I'd like to get. 

On the other hand, maybe it will force me to read the books I already own. (Actually, all I'm reading these days is student work and drafts of my co-authors' chapters for the GHK biography.)

As for my professional development money? When "donation day" comes around, I'll tell them to donate it to the school...

[Update, 12/9/25: I received Keim's book as a Christmas gift from my brother and sister-in-law! Yay!]

Third chapter draft finished!

I just emailed a draft of the third chapter I am working on to my partners. I am not confident in it, but at least it's done. Now I can focus on other things that I need to do, like preparing for the fall semester and pulling weeds in the front lawn. (My son's school bus will stop in front of our house this year, and I don't want his classmates to think that we're the Addams Family.) 

But first, to bed...

New year's resolutions for the 2025-2026 academic year?

I see I did one of these last year about this time. I did do some reading, but I don't think I used the commuter rail time to read--think I was still doing Duolingo. 

Did some writing--got the revisions done to my GHK paper, which should be out by the end of the year (watch this space). As you know, I'm still working on the biography chapters, and that's going to be something that I'll be working on until at least December, I imagine. 

But I don't really know what to resolve to do this year. I don't know what to hope for, to be honest. Maybe I can resolve to get more sleep. I think I could use some more sleep. (Maybe it's not a good idea to make new year's resolutions when you're tired!)

One chapter to go, but feeling drained

I managed to finish a draft of the second chapter that I'm responsible for and sent it off on the 9th, but I haven't made much progress on finishing the third chapter. I have over half of it done, I suppose, but there are a few points for which I need to spend some time looking through and organizing some archival documents.

But right now I am not quite in the mood to work on this. Two days before I sent off the second chapter, I heard from my mother that her older sister passed away. Aunt Lucy (married to Uncle Erich, who died in 2014) was 102. When someone reaches that age, you simultaneously feel that she could go at any time and also feel that she will be around forever. Even though we saw her decline in the last year or so--and especially toward the end--it's hard to believe that she's gone. My mother, who talked to her on the phone almost every night for an hour for probably 15 years, has lost the last person with whom she could share--really share, not just talk about--all their childhood memories. And Aunt Lucy was like a second mother to me, especially when I spent the summer of 1985 (40 years ago!) with them in Allentown, working at the family jewelry and clock store. I didn't realize at the time that she was 62 years old (which would have seemed extremely old to me back then); she always seemed young and energetic, even years later when she was complaining about various aches and pains. To imagine (to witness, really) that she led an active life for another 40 years after that reinforces that feeling of almost surprise that she is gone.

I'm not sure how to finish this. I will try to get back to work on my writing now. More updates as needed!

I'm still alive...

Just a note here to let all of my reader know that I'm still around. I've been working on my book chapter drafts, trying to crank out words words words and cite sources sources sources. There are some interesting things that I've noticed about my process (and then unfortunately forgotten) that I'd like to tell students about in the fall. 

I'm going to be teaching First-Year Writing, and I've decided to bring the students to NU's archives and special collections to try their hand at working with archival documents. I don't expect to turn them into historians (I'm not technically a historian myself, if I'm honest with myself), but as I said almost a year ago, I want to give them experience with a different kind of academic research (most of the students so far appear to be computer science or engineering majors). For that matter, perhaps they'll find some interesting points of similarity between the archival research process and research they're learning about in their own disciplines. Who knows?

Anyway, back to my own work. I have about 2 weeks to go before I have to submit my chapter drafts. Wish me luck!

Finished reading Cold War Deceptions; now reading about Malaysia and Singapore

I've already written a bit about this book here and here, so I won't say much about it here. I'll just note that, yes, the last time I wrote about this book was back in March! That is how things have been going for me since then. Not a lot of time to read. 

I'm reading another book now, A Brief History of Singapore and Malaysia. It has been quite interesting, since I know next to nothing about those two countries. I was particularly interested in reading about their more ancient history and interactions with places like India and China. 

Some memories about Taiwan before I forget them

I've got tons of things that I should be doing right now (as usual), but on the way home from shopping, I caught some of this interview with NPR China correspondent John Ruwitch in which he reflected on his experiences in China since 1992, when he first visited Kunming (this is around 10:29 in the interview). That was about the time I started living in Taiwan, so I started thinking about what I might say about my own memories of those days. I'm at a point in life where I'm constantly worrying about forgetting things, so perhaps I should write down a few impressions before they're washed away.

Ruwitch was talking about the economic growth in China between the first time he was there and 2001, when he returned to report from there, so I'll mention a few impressions about what I saw (or what I think I saw) in Taiwan. (I realize that other people might have seen different things or disagree with me about what I saw, etc., etc. Feel free to add comments to this post or write about your memories on your own blog and send me a link.)

One thing that I often think of and mention about economic change in Taiwan was how it was reflected in the students I was teaching at different times. I remember that when I surveyed night school students in my class in the Foreign Languages & Literature Department in 1993, quite a few of them wrote that their parents were farmers or factory workers. 

Skip ahead to when I was teaching in the 2000s, and I recall more students whose parents were college-educated and/or were in more white-collar jobs. Some of their parents even owned factories, particularly in China. One student told us that her father had retired at the age of 44 after running a business in China. He was one of the 台商 (Taishang, or Taiwanese people running businesses in China). According to the Chinese-language Wikipedia article on Taishang, this was during the third investment peak of Taishang in China. 

One of the social phenomena regarding Taishang was how it complicated marriages. You'd sometimes hear about relatives or relatives' relatives or friends' friends who had gone to China to invest in a business and were living there for years. Somehow, the husbands who went, usually by themselves, would get involved with a local Chinese woman. Sometimes they would even get married. So there they'd have a wife, and in Taiwan, they'd still have a wife (and usually a family). These kinds of situations would also become material for the media to talk about, on the news, talk shows, and TV dramas. Some students in my Freshman English for Non-Majors (FENM) course even used it as material for an English-language play they wrote and performed. When one of the actors said to another, "He has a woman outside" (a direct translation of "他在外面有個女人"), I couldn't resist looking out the window, which got everyone laughing, including the actors. (I guess I had a bit of a mean streak.)

I don't know what has happened recently with the Taishang phenomenon; I've heard that a lot of them have moved to other countries in southeast Asia due to the political issues between China and Taiwan, and also due to the fact that salaries have gone up for Chinese factory workers, I believe. Maybe I should read this book by Shelley Rigger (reviewed in the Taipei Times). 

Anyway, I wanted to write down something of what I remembered from my days in Taiwan. Maybe I'll write a few more of these if I get the urge. 

Response to Pico Iyer, Lola Akinmade Åkerström, & Alain de Botton

It's 1 o'clock on an Easter morning (does 1 a.m. count as part of Easter morning?), and I'm in the middle of grading, but I was looking through materials from the travel writing course I taught in the fall of 2020 for an essay I wanted to forward to a friend. And of course, I got sucked into other parts of the course materials. I can tell that even though we were in the middle of the COVID-19 pandemic, we were enjoying the class and each other's (virtual) company. (Unfortunately, the English Department doesn't seem to want to let me teach the course anymore. Departmental politics. *sigh*)

Anyway, I wanted to share one assignment from early in the semester and my response to it. I've had to fix some links in it, and one reading I can't legally share online:

Watch "Pico Iyer: A Portable Life" and read Lola Akinmade Åkerström's "When Home Morphs into Space" and Alain de Botton's "On Anticipation." Use the questions below to form a response to these three pieces. (Note: it isn't necessary to respond one by one to each question--in fact, I'd prefer that you not try to answer all of them. But consider them as you think about your response.) In your letters, include quotations from the passages you are responding to.

• As you are watching the Iyer video, write down some of the things that he says that connect with you, either through similarity, difference, or some other kind of relationship. What does he say about travel, home, place, and the self in motion that evokes a feeling of recognition in you?
  
  
• What is your definition of "home?" How does it compare with Akinmade Åkerström's definition of home as "the space where I’m allowed to exist without explanation"? What parts of her essay did you find compelling or did you resonate with?
  
  
• With what parts of de Botton’s chapter do you resonate? Looking back on your own travels (including, possibly, coming to Boston or NU from your hometown), write about your experiences of anticipation, reality, and memory, with de Botton as your “guide” (as he does with Huysmans). In other words, write about the experience, showing how it reflects the connections (or disconnects) with de Botton’s descriptions.
  
  
• What points of intersection (comparison, contrast, extension, …) do you see between de Botton, Akinmade Åkerström, and/or Iyer? Try to lay out some of these connections with an eye toward thinking about how they might influence your own views concerning the relationships among preparing for, experiencing, and reflecting on travel. Try to use specific examples from your own experiences to illustrate your responses.

Here was my response:

I think the first thing that struck me about Lola Akinmade Åkerström’s essay was the way she opened it up with her Swedish husband sending her photos of cuts of meat while she was at home, pregnant, craving Nigerian food. I was in the position of her husband when we were expecting our son--I was the one texting her pictures of Taiwanese food from Kam Man in Quincy to find out if I had found the right thing. One difference, perhaps, from Akinmade Åkerström’s experience was that I had spent almost two decades in Taiwan before we came to Boston, so I approached the experience of shopping in an Asian market with a combination of familiarity and nostalgia. I remember when we first found Kam Man several months after arriving, the familiar Chinese packaging lining the shelves, combined with the Mandopop playing in the background, took me out of my immediate surroundings and back to the Taiwanese supermarkets I used to frequent.

It’s probably hard, though, for someone who hasn’t lived abroad to identify with someone’s impressions about something as pedestrian as grocery shopping. When I was living in Taiwan, my parents would sometimes mention in letters “trips” that they had taken by going to slide presentations or watching Rick Steves programs: “We took a boat cruise on the Rhine this evening and didn’t even have to leave the house!” It was like des Esseintes with a vengeance, as though they were asking me, tauntingly, “What [is] the good of moving when a person can travel so wonderfully sitting in a chair” (De Botton 11)?

Part of the difficulty of sharing my experiences of Taiwan, then, seems to come from the mundanity of my life there as compared with the “distilled” nature of the travel experiences my parents got through Rick Steves and the slide shows. Pico Iyer says of his ordinary life in Japan, “Every day when I wake up, it seems as if the day lasts a thousand hours,” making that sound like a good thing. But sometimes standing in line in another country is not that much different from standing in line in your home country. De Botton suggests, though, that over time, the tedium might disappear from travelers’ memories, possibly leaving them with more interesting stories to tell as a result of everything they had forgotten (14-15).

But that “interest factor” also raises in my mind concerns about how faithfully I’m representing that life abroad. I find myself identifying with an often-repeated saying that those who visit China (or anywhere else, I'd say) for a week write a book about it; those who visit for a month write an article; and those who live for a year or more write nothing. The longer you're there, the more nuance you see, and the more tongue-tied you feel. How do you write about a society--any society--that is in constant change, without oversimplifying, overgeneralizing, or relying on clichés like, “X is a land of contrasts”? What authority do you (I) have to represent others?

It’s this hesitance to publish my impressions of Taiwan that makes travel writing both intriguing and intimidating. It comes not only from the worry about “getting it wrong” (it’s always going to be wrong to someone), but also from the feeling that what you say is permanent and has effects on people in ways that you might not imagine. One summer Sunday, a minister at my parents’ church announced to the congregation that I was visiting them from Thailand, and I found myself having to argue with an older woman who insisted to me that I was living in Thailand and not Taiwan because that’s what the pastor had said. Iyer declares, “The first rule of travel is, the minute you arrive somewhere, all your plans go out the window.” I’d add that the minute you write about somewhere, all your intentions go out the window when your reader gets hold of your text.

Works Cited

Akinmade Åkerström, Lola. "When Home Morphs into Space." Modern Adventure, November, 2018, modernadventure.com/magazine/november-2018/home-the-art-of-lagom. Accessed 23 August 2020.

De Botton, Alain. The Art of Travel. Vintage, 2004.

Iyer, Pico. Interview by Don George. NG Live!: Pico Iyer: A Portable Life, n.d., youtu.be/I6GB1uAy3gE?feature=shared. Accessed 23 August 2020.

Busy times ahead

My contributions (?) to this blog are going to slow down in the coming months, I'm afraid. I'm looking forward to heavy grading the next couple of weeks, followed by course preparation for two intensive summer classes I'll start teaching in May, accompanied by work drafting three chapters (due end of June) for a collaborative book project. (And somewhere in there is that Kerr paper I've been trying to finish!)

So what am I doing here? Off to get the grading worked on! Wish me luck!