Thursday, April 03, 2008
Live at the C’s: Physical Place
As I have mentioned, I am writing more personally than normal.
I have been quite drained and wired during my time at the C’s, and I have been trying to figure out why. I think a lot of it has to do with the actual physical space where my body is located. I have not really left “home” for several years—and even then, when I did, it was never for more than a few days. Thus, I have become extremely insulated in my physical patterns.
My mental patterns are mirrored by this physical space as well. During Wednesday’s workshop, several times people disagreed with points or parts of points I made. This was great because I love learning new things. What I found fascinating, though, was that on queer issues, most of my thinking/exchange had been done electronically via e-mail or Web pages. Here, there were bodies and faces and each of them had opinions. These voices were not disembodied ideas—they were visceral, and they spoke with body language. This made me respond in a different way. I had to treat these ideas with more purpose because there was an actual person there—one with a physical presence.
Being in a large city—to me, at least—is always a bit nerve racking. I rarely like places with more than 20,000 people. So that edginess is here, and it requires a lot of energy to overcome it. Each and every day that I walk back to the conference, I am traveling through new physical spaces with varying levels of attention. I have become fully aware of my ignorance of the history of New Orleans.
While this may seem tangential, it directly relates to the C’s. In our workshop, we discussed the presence and importance of the body. When we engage in intellectual work, it is vital that we also be aware of what our bodies are doing, where they are, how they have been labeled, and who is attempting to control them. As a teacher and pedagogue—gasp!—I feel it is critical to not just think about how these things relate to teaching and composition but also how they relate to a mensch walking down the street.
I am a compositionist when I drink my coffee and eat my Cajun Corned Beef at Petunia’s. I’m also a gay man. I’m also an adjunct. I’m also in training. I’m also an outsider visting the Deep South. I’m also very privileged. All of these intersect while I dine.
The nature of the conference for me has been to discover a greater sense of my place and how my body operates in that place. With that kind of increased awareness, I am quite sure that I can operate as a better teacher, a better colleague, and a better citizen.