a developing Ambrose Bierce inspiration

Alt-Right adjective 1. referring to white supremacy without owning up to white supremacy in order to attract followers who previously had no idea they had no problems with white supremacy, 2. bull-shit.

Antifa noun 1. a shortened form of "antifascist," 2. when spoken by Trump, a single exclamation that needs no other explanation in order to keep right-wing voters worked up about a leftist boogeyman, 3. a confusing catch-all for leftists, communists, fascists, Nazis, Black Lives Matter, Occupy, and probably also the Clintons, used by those who spent their days in history class scratching "commie bastards" into their desks.

libtard noun 1. a last-ditch effort on the part of a right-wing troll to assert superiority by confirming main stream criticism of right wing trolls. Origins: liberal (Latin) meaning free, and retard (Latin) meaning slow, or in its modern context, a pejorative description of developmental disability.

rino noun 1. as opposed to a misspelling of the endangered rhinoceros, this is an acronym for "Republican in Name Only," Note: this term is often used without any notion of irony, as most users do not realize that they are Conservative in Name Only, Christian in Name Only, or Human in Name Only.

purpose

Movies that most people wouldn’t waste their time on are one of my few vices. The others include Coca Cola and sleeping in. So, if you needed further proof of my lack of wildness, there you are. One of those movies is Ever After, and I bring it up only because one line has been repeating in my head for a few months now: “I used to think, if I cared at all, I would have to care about everything...and I’d go stark raving mad.”

That is rather like how I feel right now. Maybe not the stark raving mad part, but the anxiety about finding a “purpose.” I’ve been honing in on something to do with my own journey beyond southeast Ohio and back again, but that makes me wonder if I should keep piling on the purposefulness. Do I care about poverty? Hunger? Child abuse prevention? Sure. I wish I could solve it all.

I have trouble letting go. In effect, I let go of the Heifer Project for some complicated and silly reasons that no one has thus far directly asked me about. I completed a term in AmeriCorps, but chose not to pursue another. In all fairness, that decision came at the same time I was asked to add a second art history class to my schedule. The field I obtained two degrees in of course takes precedence. So letting go feels good. It’s a relief, in many ways, but it is also...sad isn’t the proper word. Bitter is too strong. Disappointing, perhaps?

One of the major criticisms of my generation—and the next one—is that we’re wayward. We flit from job to job, from interest to interest. But isn’t that a more natural way to live? Apart from the nuts and bolts of it all: eating, sleeping, socializing; can one really dedicate their lives to one thing, or one realm of things, and stick to it? Maybe not in this job market. One of the few good things about my crooked path is where I am right now, teaching. It’s growing on me. That’s not to say I’ll be a professor from now until the end. But I’ve found a realm I’d like to stay in/near/vaguely adjacent to.

That realm is difficult to define. Not simply “the arts,” not just “academia.” I want to be involved in the literacy movement as well as art history. I want to keep trying to broaden the views of people who have never seen the value in looking beyond Ohio’s borders. Or even the county’s. I’ve already let this drive me a little crazy, taking it personally when one student or another doesn’t see the value and might never see it. That’s the caring about everything, or everyone, part.

But, did you read up there, “I want to be,” not “I am”? I still feel like I am in flux. Not settled. Not like I’ve found my place. At what point do I become just a talker and not a doer. Am I already there? Looking back on the past three years, I wonder why I haven’t already reached maximum purposefulness. Yet while I say I’m in flux, am I really where I am meant to be? Where is the line between passion and waywardness? Because I seem to be dancing on it.