A few days ago, I sent back the (now-heavily) revised manuscript for Aftermath. The edits and revisions were fairly minor at this point, though a few significant issues remained. I was speaking to one of my teaching colleagues (a woman for whom I have tremendous respect but who I will not name here to guard her privacy) about how curious it was that people like us can be so passionate about the minutiae of writing: the Oxford comma, the semicolon versus the colon, proper uses of the passive voice, and so on. We had as jolly laugh about it, but it got me to thinking.
Later in the day, I spoke with another set of colleagues about the finer points of football (I switched hats from my teacher mortar board to my coach’s cap). We were debating whether or not to teach wrong-arm technique to the defensive ends. I held that since the linebackers coach and defensive coordinator wanted the outside linebacker to handle the B gap, it would be a mistake for the end to wrong-arm a puller since it would give up contain.
Today, one of my oldest friends and bona-fide genius will be running a Dungeons and Dragons game in which I participate (as a player, finally–I thought for years I would be relegated to Forever DM status). When we run the session, I am sure we will have to look up whether or not the spell Sanctuary requires an action or a bonus action (it turns out it is a bonus action, which makes it a slightly better spell).
What am I getting at here? I’m getting at the joy of being consumed by detail. More than that–being consumed by arcane detail that a layperson would not only not understand but would almost certainly mock as insignificant.
Is this what privilege is? Being so secure, so safe, so flush with resources (of whatever stripe) to be able to dive into detail? I am privileged in that I received a top-notch education at the hands of my parents first, then from an excellent public school system and then a private college. I am privileged in that I was able to pursue my dream of becoming a teacher and, if I may say so, meet with some degree of success in the field. I am privileged in that I can also pursue another dream, that of being a writer. And I can dive into a sport that, by itself, is not just meaningless but downright dangerous and deal with the tiniest of adjustments as if the world hung in the balance therefrom.
I could go on, but the point I am making is that perhaps one measure of privilege is being so secure and full of resources that one can indeed examine the finer points of an art or skill. Were I less privileged, I might be so consumed with mere survival that the fine points of life would be as a luxury forever out of reach.
“Stop and smell the roses” only applies if two things are true: first, that one has the security to be able to “stop,” and second, that there are roses available.
“Follow your dreams” is far easier to obey if one is not being chased by the wolves of want.
Food for thought, my gentle readers.
Be seeing you!
Later in the day, I spoke with another set of colleagues about the finer points of football (I switched hats from my teacher mortar board to my coach’s cap). We were debating whether or not to teach wrong-arm technique to the defensive ends. I held that since the linebackers coach and defensive coordinator wanted the outside linebacker to handle the B gap, it would be a mistake for the end to wrong-arm a puller since it would give up contain.
Today, one of my oldest friends and bona-fide genius will be running a Dungeons and Dragons game in which I participate (as a player, finally–I thought for years I would be relegated to Forever DM status). When we run the session, I am sure we will have to look up whether or not the spell Sanctuary requires an action or a bonus action (it turns out it is a bonus action, which makes it a slightly better spell).
What am I getting at here? I’m getting at the joy of being consumed by detail. More than that–being consumed by arcane detail that a layperson would not only not understand but would almost certainly mock as insignificant.
Is this what privilege is? Being so secure, so safe, so flush with resources (of whatever stripe) to be able to dive into detail? I am privileged in that I received a top-notch education at the hands of my parents first, then from an excellent public school system and then a private college. I am privileged in that I was able to pursue my dream of becoming a teacher and, if I may say so, meet with some degree of success in the field. I am privileged in that I can also pursue another dream, that of being a writer. And I can dive into a sport that, by itself, is not just meaningless but downright dangerous and deal with the tiniest of adjustments as if the world hung in the balance therefrom.
I could go on, but the point I am making is that perhaps one measure of privilege is being so secure and full of resources that one can indeed examine the finer points of an art or skill. Were I less privileged, I might be so consumed with mere survival that the fine points of life would be as a luxury forever out of reach.
“Stop and smell the roses” only applies if two things are true: first, that one has the security to be able to “stop,” and second, that there are roses available.
“Follow your dreams” is far easier to obey if one is not being chased by the wolves of want.
Food for thought, my gentle readers.
Be seeing you!
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