For the past ten years, I take some time around now to think about my late friend Joel Jonientz. He pass away in 2014 and as we have for every year since then, I got together with a few friends from “back in those days” for a drink and some memories. As always, there are fewer and fewer who can make our get together. Some have moved away, others have competing commitments, and others still have sort of fallen out of our loop. These are all understandable and appropriate reasons to send regrets.
This year, I feel more nostalgic than ever. Maybe it’s the ten year anniversary or maybe I’m just allowing myself to wallow a bit more in the past than before. I have another theory, though. I think times are changing and probably for the better.
When I am nostalgic for the times I spent with Joel, they are invariably filtered through the life of our institution, the University of North Dakota. As I’ve repeated many times on this blog, the years from 2004-2014 were pretty amazing times at UND. I don’t want to suggest that everything was good, but I will say that there was a pervasive feeling of optimism and purpose in the air (at least among faculty). This supported a willingness to collaborate (rather than compete) and a sense of trust among colleagues with diverse commitments. In a simple way, I think it was because we all felt that there was plenty of the pie to go around. In more complicated ways, I suspect it had to do with all of us being of the same generation and perhaps even having similar experiences within academia. This allowed us to relate to one another in a way that avoided intergenerational tensions or mitigated those lodged deeply in the diverse disciplinary trajectories present at a comprehensive university.
[To be clear, we realized that some of our colleagues—especially those in communication program—would remember these years differently. They saw their programs disbanded, their positions dispersed across the institution, and a general atmosphere of uncertainly and unrest. But, even these faculty members seems to have a sense of optimism or at least a sense of possibility.]
By 2017 and 2018, most faculty found it difficult to muster much sense of optimism, possibility, or the future. Instead it was replaced by a bunker mentality which bred competition, inefficiency, and distrust as the university went through paroxysms instigated by budget cuts, institutional reprioritization, and weak leadership. Of course, we saw signs of this in 2014. In fact, the morning before Joel passed away, I happened by his house while walking the dog and we exchanged some thoughts both about the situation at UND and a gaggle of kittens that were living in his garage. It was a pretty normal conversation for those days and aside from the kittens many of the details escape me.
One of the key things that I reflect on now is how I can’t seem to recall feeling busy in those days. This may be because busyness in general is an ephemeral state and since it tends not to linger beyond its cause (unlike, say, sadness or joy). As a result, it might be easier to forget with time.
On the other hand, it might just be because I was LESS BUSY then. Of course, I know that the older I get, the busier I am. I’m less able to switch tasks efficiently, for example, and it takes more time simply to change gears. I’m also find that my focus is more fragile and as a result it takes more more time to read, write, or grade. In any event, the stuff that I used to do quickly and efficiently now takes more time and creates a sense of LESS time for other things.
And, of course, those other things take longer too. For example, I used to be able to do “tempo” work outs with their slightly higher intensity and shorter duration as frequently as a few times a week. Now, I need to invest more in the grueling and time consuming base work and limit my shorter (and more fun) tempo work outs to once a week or so. I also get tired more easily and find myself needing a bit more sleep, needing to slow my roll more frequently, and even just wanting to chill out more. As a result, the onrush of commitments feels more overwhelming than it did a decade ago.
Finally, I suspect our sense of busyness reflects our optimism about the task at hand. When we feel positive and optimistic, work feels lighter. When we feel pessimistic and stressed, all work feels heavier and more burdensome.
Lately, as the mood on campus has shifted and some optimism has returned to my professional and institutional life, I feel a bit lighter. I feel like the busyness is giving way a bit even as I still find myself struggling at times to hold station with my commitments.
A few months ago I thought a bit about an archaeology of busyness. Of course, busyness is the kind of term that could describe an aesthetic (music can be busy, art can be busy, design can be busy) as well as a condition. Whether there’s a link between the aesthetic busyness and the condition, it’s hard to say, but someone like Joel would help me think through this. This is take nothing away from anyone else of course, but it’s the kind of question that our group could ponder over some beers.
Maybe someday, I’ll think about this some more or in a more serious way. For now, I’m thinking about Joel and enjoying a nostalgic moment.
Archaeology of the Mediterranean World 