Life Rambles Part 2

The one person I can truly say I've begun to model my adult self after is Dana Nelson.



Dana is considered to be a "rock star" professor. Don't snicker. It's a legitimate term. It's a combination of being progressive, being popular, being incredibly sharp and moving the field forward. And being incredibly well connected. It means that top tier universities will pay you obscene amounts of money for the pleasure of getting you to work for them. It means you get to dictate your terms to the university, instead of the other way around, tenure or not. It also usually means you're a bit of a lightening rod, either through personality, the strength of your ideas, or how you present them (or all of the above).

I met Dana when I was an undergraduate at the University of Kentucky. I had an English class with her, and I have to say it changed my life. It changed the way I looked at America, at the people around me in our present age, and at academia, and my place in it. She was the first one to say to me, "Have you ever thought about graduate school?" And I laughed and said no. She then said, "Why not??" She wrote me a recommendation letter that I'm positive got me into graduate school. It's sort of like having Mick Jagger say you'd make a good member of a band.

Dana was incredibly smart. She has several books out, the latest one making a bit of a splash, which for an academic is an incredible thing. No one reads our stuff except us. When one of us makes it into the mainstream, it's a Big Fucking Deal. I'll tell you about her latest thing in a minute. But what struck me about her first was the way she was so willing to share power and space. She gave space to our ideas when she could've so easily said, "You people don't know what you're talking about, shut up and listen to me." She would network you without batting an eyelash. If you said you were interested in going to such and so school, she would rattle off the names of three people she thought could help you--and she'd contact them herself, if you wanted her to. If you wanted to go into a different career, I'll be damned if she didn't know people there, too. She praised your efforts, and she made you feel like the little bit that you did was important. That really made an impression on me.

What really did it for me, though, was when I had to bring Dante to school one day. We were having major problems with his racist kindergarten teacher, a story I really don't wish to recall. But anyway, there was my barely five year old boy sitting in class with me. I warned her beforehand, and she was fine with it. When we got there, she gave him colored chalk and let him draw all over the board while we had our class discussion. She stooped down, looked him in the eye and asked his name, which he was delighted with. After a little bit, she asked him what he was drawing and he launched into some sort of wild explanation, which she praised. He was very content. Then, the fire alarm went off. The fire alarm NEVER went off in all my years as an undergrad, but the day I had to juggle a kid, my bookbag, panicked people and all that crap, the fire alarm goes off. We got up and I reached for my stuff (stuff being kid and bookbag), but Dana had already thrown my bag over her shoulder and had my kid by the hand. She waited for me, and she walked us both out. Maybe that seems like normal human compassion that everyone has, but I have to say, Dana has a sense of humanity about her that just radiates from her.

She makes you want to be a better person. She makes you want to be just like her.

One of her other qualities that I admired at twenty two years of age or so was the fact that she was so involved in the issues that were important to her. She writes a lot about American politics, about interacting within a democracy, voting issues, American history, all great stuff. But every now and then she would drop something like, "Yea, we had to be taught how to take kidney punches when we escorted women through the lines of protestors to abortion clinics." How many academics actually get out there and spend some serious hands on time with community problems? Not too fucking many. She's currently working with women in prison as well as a homelessness organization. And she still answers my emails and signs them, "Love, Dana."

Here's a link to her new book stuff: Dana Nelson totally rawks. Her latest is called Bad for Democracy: How the Presidency Undermines the Power of the People. The premise of the book is that basically democracy in America has been boiled down to voting for the President, with too much emphasis placed on that event alone, creating a sort of hero worship around the President. Given the recent rock star election, she couldn't be closer to the mark. It's a call for the people to become active citizens again. This is so incredibly important. When I asked my students why they felt so many people stayed home and didn't vote, they responded it was because they felt their vote didn't "make a difference." I asked them who else was running in this election besides the presidential candidates. Most of them couldn't name a single one. But there are so many local and state offices where their vote would make a difference, and quite frankly, where political decisions may be much more important to them. But they, too, were caught up in the spectacle that presidential elections have become. You should totally read her new book. She's been recommended as a guest on Jon Stewart's The Daily Show to talk about it. But on top of that, in the link to all the info about her interview, her book trailer, the synopsis, everything, there's this sweet, totally Dana Nelson addition. It's the top ten things you can do for democracy besides vote. She gives you practical ways of making a difference now, of rolling up your sleeves and getting your hands in it again.

Over time, I feel like I've gotten even closer to Dana. It may seem silly to say this, but she's the big sister I never had. It's so weird, because she's so powerful in the world she works in. She became close to me on purpose and by her own choice, which amazed me, because she could be close to anyone she wanted to. She asks after me. She helps me. When I had that fiasco with my project, I emailed her for advice; she basically gave me the scoop on how things worked and encouraged me to fight like hell, which I did. When she came to my university to give a lecture, she asked for me and El Hijo to pick her up--that's a giant networking honor that's usually given to grad students so they have a chance for face time with Important People. El Hijo brought her to the lecture. When I saw her again after about five years, I guess, or more, she moved up to me, hugged me and kissed me, and told me to go sit down before she started crying. That night at the party with all the important faculty people, Dana stayed right with us, bragged on us, talked about my project (which was huge for me at the time), and made us feel more important than anybody else in the room. I took her to breakfast and the airport when she left. We talked about parents and death and life and work. We cried when she had to leave. She told me she was so proud of me, of the work I was doing and who I had become, and it meant something so incredibly solid to me for the first time since my dad died. I watched to make sure she got through airport security OK. She turned and blew me a kiss, and was off again.

She made me want to be the kind of teacher I try to be; somebody who's up on why it matters that you read books and process the context. Somebody who can tell you why it's important to know what democracy was like in the way back when and why it's important to think about what it has become. Somebody who makes it seem important to get involved. Somebody who shoulders your book bag and takes your kid by the hand and walks with you out of a potentially burning building.

I want to be Dana Nelson.

-- DV