2009
Great War Course
I still need to work out the details, but here’s my catalog description for one course I am teaching this summer:
Hist 388-C02 - The Great War
Some 9 to 10 million people lost their lives in the Great War between 1914 and 1918. Most of the dead were soldiers; however, the war affected the lives of nearly everyone, not only because of the mass mourning it inspired, but also because of its economic, social, cultural and political consequences. Why did Europe’s great powers go to war? Why did they keep fighting? How did soldiers and civilians experience the war? What were its consequences? This course seeks to explore the First World War, a total war, from as many angles as possible, including politics, diplomacy, strategy, tactics, economics, class, gender, generation, and nationality. The course will center on discussions of assigned readings, which will feel heavy during this short term. We will also consider some films. Grades will be based on class participation, two short papers, a short book presentation, and a midterm and final exam.
The particular challenge with this course is the intensive summer format George Mason University uses. The course meets for about three hours, three times per week for one month.
Blogging Politics
I ended the year with some political fatigue, so I have not been writing much about politics lately. Let’s face it. The campaign was a long one. I continue to be interested in politics, but I cannot be bothered to follow every little political squabble, especially not as it is currently being reported.
Right now each major issue appears in the media as a case of the Democrats say versus the Republicans say, and, quite frankly, I don’t really care what the Republicans are saying, not with their current tactic of doing nothing but say no in a situation where inaction is not an option. I’m more interested in learning how concrete decisions are being made, with or without the GOP. Not surprisingly then, I enjoyed Roger Simon’s opinion piece in Politico today,“Obama’s bold. What did you expect?"
One other thing has kept me from editorializing here more of late. The sheer size and complexity of the economic and foreign policy tasks facing us defies easy answers. Fortunately, we have an administration that gets that, even as it moves forward with amazing speed.
Work
Due to budget cuts, George Mason University did not book me ahead of time to teach history courses this semester. Hence, I took a couple more ESL courses at LADO. Of course, the History Department at Mason offered me something right before its semester started, but I was already working at LADO by that time. Saying no to LADO at the beginning of January on the mere chance of work at Mason was not an option.
The downside is money. Of course, that’s always an issue for teachers, but it’s particularly difficult for people teaching at private language schools. Universities pay adjunct professors by the course, which leaves financial gaps between semesters, but which also leaves time for other part-time jobs. ESL schools pay only by the hours one actually teaches, meaning five hours of actual teaching is only a “part-time” job, never mind preparation time.
Another downside is my crazy schedule. Besides teaching ESL in my DC neighborhood on Saturday mornings, as I did most of 2008, I am teaching mornings in Arlington and evenings in DC. This schedule can be a little disorienting, not to mention tiring. It has an upside too, however, insofar as it leaves me time during the day for job hunting. The trick is to switch gears between the classroom and this other side of my life, and to remember that the actual job search is the most important thing. That’s not easy for a teacher whose natural inclination is to give his classes the highest priority.
One practical upside to my current routine is the lack of long trips out to Fairfax. I have also been enjoying the break in my routine. Teaching ESL to students at a private language school often means the students really want to learn. They can see how the material affects their ability to interact with their environment, unlike students who take an introductory history class simply because it is mandated by the university.
It’s also fun meeting people from so many countries. Lumping my current courses together, my students come from Mexico, Costa Rica, Guatemala, Bolivia, Brazil, Poland, Russia, Kyrgyzstan, Thailand, Japan, Algeria, Libya, and Saudi Arabia. Many of them work as au pairs or nannies, and some come from the diplomatic community.
This summer I’m scheduled to teach Euro Civ I and II again at Georgetown University. I’ve also got two history courses at George Mason University, Western Civ again and also one on the Great War. The courses at each university are intensive, but they come one after the other, so I won’t be teaching more than two intensive history courses at a time, though I might also continue with the Saturday course at LADO.
Meanwhile, the search for a full-time job must pick up. It might be at university, but I am seriously considering history at private schools as well as possibly something that matches my skills in the government. The State Department could make sense, especially as a foreign service officer who does public diplomacy. Unfortunately, the process for getting that kind of job can take a very long time, as much as two years, if I understand correctly.
Meanwhile, life goes on.
Two of Two Million
On Sunday, January 18th, we attempted to see the concert at Lincoln Memorial. We took a bus down Wisconsin Avenue and got off at Foggy Bottom. Walking towards the memorial, we soon joined a mass of humanity heading in the same direction.
There was good will and a sense of expectation in the air. Unfortunately, there was also only one hour till the concert’s begin, and we had badly underestimated the time it would take to get through security. Exacerbating the situation were people cutting the lines, sometimes willfully, sometimes because the architecture of the lines was confusing.
We decided to give up at 2:00, when the concert was supposed to begin. We could chock it up to experience and be better prepared on Tuesday. Besides, just seeing the expectant crowds was a good thing. We also decided to walk to Memorial Bridge via Washington Monument, thinking we could at least see the crowds—and maybe hear some sounds—across the water. It turned out, however, that there were JumboTrons and loudspeakers at Washington Monument, no security checkpoints to go through, and the concert had not yet begun. We got within one or two hundred yards of a JumboTron and saw the whole thing from within a growing sea of humanity that reached as far back as the eye could see. The monument is on a hill, which means the crowd from my vantage point looked endless, since my view at the scene behind us reached only the monument, dropping off like the ocean does on the horizon at sea.
I choked up while singing the national anthem at the beginning. Catharsis. Healing after eight years of a leader who encouraged us to follow our worst instincts. The sense of joy and anticipation around me was palpable. We sang and we danced. Catharsis. Having the eighty-nine-year-old Pete Seeger there at the end made it that much sweeter—so did the whole choreography of the show, which brought not only different ethnicities on stage together, but also generations and genres. Garth Brooks’ singing “Shout!” was fine example of this tendency.
Afterwards we walked half of the way or more back home, though we found room in a bus for part of the trip. We talked with other passengers as if we all knew each other, which happens in DC, but seldom this easily.
That evening, my wife convinced me to volunteer for service the next day as Obama had been encouraging citizens to do, but my earlier hesitation meant all organized activities were already booked. So instead we signed up for a pledge drive next month for our local public radio station, which I had been planning to do anyway. And I reminded my wife of her other volunteering. She’s always been much better then me at stepping up when help is needed.
So Monday was a day at home. Sure, there were special events for the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, but the next day would take a lot of energy and planning.
Told we had to choose between inauguration and the parade, and told the parade had security checkpoints, but a spot on the Mall for inauguration didn’t, the choice was easy. Moreover, being there was more important than having a chance to see Obama in the parade. What better way to bear witness than with two million people?
The decision to brave the crowds was easier, because we live in Glover Park, which is close enough to make it possible to avoid packed Metro stations.
This morning we took a bus to Dupont Circle and walked to Washington Monument. We left the apartment at 8:00 and had a spot with a view of a JumboTron by 9:00. They rebroadcast the concert to distract us, and they showed us the arriving guests. The wait passed by pretty quickly this way.
Our long-johns and other layers kept us reasonably comfortable. So did a folded yoga mat (for both sitting and standing on) and snacks and tea. The more crowded it got, the less the wind bit into us, though the breeze never completely went away on that small hill.
The mood reminded me of the Sunday concert, except we got past the anticipation to the main event. At times it felt like at a church, as some neighbors from Newport News responded to parts of the president’s speech with a rhythmic refrain of “Okay,” as if in a conversation with him. An “Amen” even slipped from my lips a couple times, including at the part where Obama denounced the false choice between security and our values. I was doubly impressed then when that Obama line drew a lot of extra cheers and applause where we were standing.
There will be more to ponder in the coming days and weeks. Right now I am exhausted from the cold and windy, but beautiful walk back from Washington Monument across to Lincoln Memorial, along the Potomac to Georgetown, and up Wisconsin Avenue to Glover Park. (Were we ever stiff after a short bathroom break at Barnes & Noble in Georgetown and then coffee at a small cafe on Wisconsin Avenue!)
Tired, beat, exhausted—the good kind.
Politics and Scholarship: U. S. Army War College
I am disappointed by the news Tom Ricks shares in “Fiasco at the Army War College." In it he asks, “Did faculty members at the Army War College curtail their criticism of the Iraq war for fear of institutional retaliation?” In fact, they did more, even blackballing Ricks. I’m almost surprised, because I think highly of that institution, but I also recall how little respect the Bush administration has shown for professionalism in so many areas of government.
Thirteen more days.
Al-Qaeda and Gaza
Marc Lynch offers an enlightening and disheartening article at Foreign Policy Magazine called “Zawahiri can’t believe his luck." In it he points out how good Israel’s attack has been for Al-Qaeda. The piece reminds us of the divisions among radical Islamic politics and shows how the current crisis offers Al-Qaeda a possible opening in Gaza. The piece also takes a swipe at U.S. public diplomacy, which seems to have devolved into an oxymoron under President Bush.
Meanwhile, “Ahmadinejad is having the best week ever."