by Lynn Clement
As with the season itself, my summer themed blog post has gone through a lot of edits. Most recently it devolved into one sentence that started with the letter “A” followed by countless “H”s: a primal scream to express the despair induced by the summer of 2018. Like my colleagues, I had begun the summer with high hopes to do what was important, professionally and politically, because summer is an occasion to carve out time for the work that gets neglected during the year.
I tried. I really did. I had a manageable, organized schedule of all the significant (and some insignificant) things I was going to accomplish. I was going to update all my syllabi early and set up all my courses’ online components in May. I was going to do the bulk of my research for lecture improvements and attend important protests in June. I was going to teach two summer classes in July. I was going to do independent research in August. I was going to arrive at the fall semester feeling prepared, having had a fulfilling and productive summer.
I’m going to say something that may shock those who work in fields that do not “observe” summer break, and it may even seem controversial for those who do: I dislike summer vacation. I equate summers to holidays like Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, and ones 21st birthday. Expectations are too high, you never end up doing what you really wanted, and most of the time it ends with you sweaty, stressed, and either too drunk or not nearly drunk enough.
I know I’m not alone when I say that my summer did not turn out how I had planned. Syllabi remain unfinished, I have yet to read a book in its entirety, another adjunct was kind enough to take my classes, and August is shaping up to be a real shit-show. Despite the stress to come, I am glad I made this decision. Time with my family has been invaluable. Most of my summer days thus far have been filled with a different kind of valuable work: trying to keep my daughter busy and happy as I help my mother take care of my father. I never thought I’d be dealing with a dying parent at this point in my life, but here I am, living in my hometown, something I haven’t done since I was 18. Although there have been picnics, crafts, sprinklers, and quality time with loved ones, I would be disingenuous if I didn’t admit that the weight of those unfilled expectations is staggering. The thought of extending and postponing my to-do list until next summer is crushing.
Being forced to slow my life to a screeching halt has been an incredibly tough adjustment, but it has given me some clarity and a new plan for summers to come. I’m giving up the summer to-do list, possibly forever.
I do so with a happy heart, to honor my father because it’s time for me to find a better work-life balance in all seasons. Most of my memories of my dad revolve around labor, projects, and things that needed doing. Running a successful family owned and operated heating and cooling business in a small town meant working hard…always. Despite his large circle of friends, countless creative hobbies, and an aggravatingly optimistic personality he spent most of his life elbow deep in work. It wasn’t until he was forced to retire due to the cancer that he was able to enjoy his “summer” and even then he spent much of his time on building projects. I wish reconnecting with friends, traveling, and playing in a band had not been left to, what would become, the last years of his life. I’ve inherited his work ethic and I’ve realized that I don’t want to sing karaoke as a pot-bellied 60 year old. I want to do it now, as a pot-bellied 40 year old.
Like most everyone, I still have to deal with normal life constraints, but this doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give up on the idea that at some magical point in my year, or life, the stars will align and I will have the opportunity to get everything done. The promise of summer often allows me to put off until tomorrow what should be today, and this is my trouble. I have to strive to make time for what is important at all times, so that life may be fuller, rather than just busier. This will be more easily said (typed) than done, I know, but I can try. I’m throwing the summer to-do list out and instead, each month I plan to do at least one thing I’d normally save for summer. It could be as small as finally reading that book that’s been sitting on my shelf for a decade, or big, like finally taking that research trip to Paris.
All the things on my list cannot not, and should not, wait until a literal or metaphorical summer. Lectures will be re-written, research will be done, articles will submitted, Python and SQL will be learned, cabins will be rented with friends, parties will be planned, canvases will be painted. It will all be done, but not if it is relegated to side projects to be executed during vacations and holiday breaks.
I look forward to the experiment of interspersing the year with greater flexibility for all important activities and opportunities. If you don’t mind indulging me, I’ll tell you sporadically of the successes and failures in future posts.