Category Archives: Illinois
Throughout the service, the wind seemed to heighten our attention rather than scatter it; there could be no looking away from God that day.
I’ve found that the mundanities of teaching quickly and quietly bleed a name of its import.
At first, the concept of intelligent plants seemed a little far-fetched, or, rather, whimsical, a kind of wishful thinking that envisioned a magical world, rather Tolkein-esque.
As the semesters and years roll along, my library—my store of knowledge—becomes more and more unread, and, in a similar way, the more I learn, the more I realize how little I actually know.
The Rare Books and Manuscripts Library, however, is different. There’s a ritual to entering this cold, dry, protected space. Before going in, you have to lock up your backpack, purse, coat, pens, snacks, water bottle, binders, and folders.
So, a few weeks ago, while I was reading Shakespeare, my friend prepared a twenty-slide Powerpoint presentation on the basics of this facet of American culture about which I am completely illiterate.
But letting go of all those demands emptied me out, and the process of refilling with the right things—that’s what’s taking so much time.
I lived in a little southern Illinois town with my nose pressed against a window. I hated second grade, with its D’Nealian script, phonics dittos, and dodgeball.
Did I miss something when I grew up? Was there some native knowledge dancing on the polleny wind that somehow blew past me (because I was inside with a stack of library books)?