Three Days Later

Big thanks, as ever, to all the people who tried to (and succeeded in) cheer[ing] me up about the most recent financial bullshit. I suppose that on some level, I simply have to accept that I am a financial moron married to a guy who can balance books and keep accounts, yet just doesn’t want to think he should "have" to in his private life. Sort of like he shouldn’t "have" to wear a watch, carry a cellphone, remember dates, or even check our mutual phone messages with any vague type of regularity—and Jesus, do I wish I was joking about that last part, but no: After long study, I’ve figured out that there is absolutely no point in leaving messages for Steve, because he won’t get them. Unless he actually picks up the phone when I call, I simply hang up and try later on (or, if it’s really important, try to get my mother to phone him in the interim. Which he hates, but, well—too bad).

The most recent version of this came to fruition on Friday, when he suddenly remembered that the woman from St. Mike’s Pediatric Clinic needed us to phone back and confirm Cal’s assessment appointment on Monday. So I phoned at 8:00 AM, when their office supposedly open, and left a message (‘cause they weren’t open yet); I then had to go in to school, and spent part of the day worrying that Steve wouldn’t call back to confirm in person, just to be sure. Since we’ve been waiting for this fucking thing for the last three fucking months, and all. You know. Just a tiny bit important for our son’s future.

When I came home, he assured me that he had (probably because I got Mom to call and bug him about it), so good. But I’m pretty sure all this explains why I have huge open sores inside my mouth right now, as well as a fresh new crick in my neck which just doesn’t seem to want to go away, and really brutal PMS-like cramps every two hours, for which I’m popping Midol at a probably-unhealthy rate.

And: "What do you think that’s about?" Mom asks. And: "Oh, I don’t know: Stress?" I reply. Thinking: Obviously.

Okay. So the schedule for Monday, thus far: Cal’s assessment, 10:30 AM. Hopefully go to the doctor later on, to get a gynacological referral and figure out this cramps situation (hysterectomies and ovarian tumors run in my family, in case you’re wondering). Work out. Lipactin for the sores. Go see Claire Jenkins avec Band Monday night, on Mom’s dime—yeah, I like that last part. The rest, not so much.

Now Steve’s taken Cal out for a bit—we’ll see how long that lasts—and I’m trying to get at least a tiny bit of genuine work done before I have to start working on the rest of those friggin’ marking rubrics. Pursuant to which—and I’m sure I may be courting trouble of some sort to mention it here, or anywhere else—

—just like Rick thought they might, the TFS Powers That Be have received complaints about the relatively small number of students of color whose Fifth Term project packages received the go-ahead, so they’ve asked to see that rubric I made up for Fifth Term assessment. Actually, as I go over the numbers, I see far more SOCs than usual (though that probably has a lot more to do with the fact that this particular section was so massive overall—49 separate packages): Two Middle Eastern males, one Middle Eastern female, one Native Canadian male, one African-Canadian female, one Nigerian female. But many people might not be able to tell the Native Canadian guy’s SOC-ness at first glance, and it’s certainly true that it’s been a very long time since we’ve ended up giving to go-ahead to any sort of African male…the closest I remember us coming within the last five years or so was when we gave to go-ahead to an Indian-Canadian male, whose resultant work I thought was fairly brilliant. Which does give me pause.

Am I being racist in my assessments? I don’t like to think so. Of the African-Canadian and African males who I knew were most likely going to submit this year, I was genuinely looking forward to seeing what at least two of them would come up with, and I think at least one of them did fairly good work. Unfortunately, the packages themselves just weren’t very good on their own, let alone when compared with what I received from other students. Still, I have to wonder: Did I let these guys down somehow? I told them over and over what was required. Did they ignore what I said because they really didn’t believe keeping to professional standards was necessary in order for their projects to be passed through the system, or just because I’m a pasty white lady who reminds them of every other petty tyrant who ever made them call her "Miss"? Would this all have worked out differently if I’d somehow gotten some (male) filmmaker of color—Sudz Sutherland, maybe, or Clement Virgo—to come in and give a guest lecture in which they covered exactly the same stuff?

The plain fact is, content doesn’t and can’t trump presentation, though I’m sure we often all wish it did. Which is not, unfortunately, to say that they’d have been passed on content if presentation had only been taken off the table…

Ah, well. All you have to do is look at the rubric vs. the documents in question, and it’ll be pretty easy to figure out what happened. But damn, man—I WANT to see more SOC action next time around, and not just because I’m afraid this pattern may eventually lead to somebody getting sued. I need to figure out what I can do to make that happen.