A Post So Overblown I Cite Greek Philosophy

Apologies for the slow posting week. I guess I didn’t want to rub in the fact that I’m in northern Michigan, and you’re not (or are you, Martin Jean?!?). My last few days have involved some great beer, a wonderful little strip of beach just north of Traverse City, and a lot of friendly family competition. (I will be looking for Euchre partners in the coming year to strengthen my skills so I can wipe that smirk off my cousin Todd’s face. Please let me know if you’re interested.) I’ve also been reading a lot of theology and communing with my ancestors, so you’ll have to excuse a certain level of ridiculous in this post. And I have a wicked sunburn, which has nothing to do with anything; I'm just looking for sympathy.

Today marks the start of the one-month countdown to BTFO, which kicks off on August 24th. Accordingly, Sandra and I are locating speakers for our panels, talking to our food manager about catering, and having slightly crazy anxiety dreams. Last week I ordered five 10-gallon drink coolers, and then promptly left town, so that someone else had to deal with the physical reality of having five 10-gallon coolers. (Sorry, Mike and Sandra.) Over the next month, we’ll scramble to put together folders, train our volunteers, and make sure we have enough trashcans on the quad during meals.

OK, time to lay on the metaphor. You knew this was coming. Please have your whiteboard handy to play along at home.

Think of divinity school as a lake (not an ocean; oceans are unmanageable and full of sharks and crabs). Some of you will take the cautious approach during your first semester – you’ll wade out from shore slowly, checking back ever so often to make sure your bag is still on the lounge chair where you left it. Others of you will gleefully jump off the dock, ignoring the “no diving” signs, and immerse yourselves immediately and completely.

The thing about about water, which makes it such a good metaphor for everything in life, is how it is both ancient and new. On the one hand, the lake you’ll swim in has been around for generations and longer. Ever think about how all that water was once drank and peed out by a dinosaur? No? Just me? Huh. Anyway, so, yes, the water is ancient – but the shape of the lake, and the course of the river is always changing. Course requirements shift, new faculty are hired, seniors graduate, and suddenly your grandparents’ beachfront property has another mile of dunes in front of it where they are building a subdivision. Furthermore, as Heraclitus says, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.” This year you’ll expend a great deal of energy memorizing depth charts and studying the current only to come back next September to a whole new experience.*

Because this is a particularly large lake, and looks as limitless as an ocean, Sandra and I have decided to focus your attention on its tributaries during BTFO. We’ll introduce you to several of the streams that feed the lake, namely: Self-Care (the process of maintaining some sanity when you lose sight of the shore), Academics at the Divinity School, Yale University, and New Haven. ** We’ll spend a day at each of these rivers in succession, and you’ll have the opportunity to dangle your feet in, paddle around a bit, or make for the opposite bank.

So now that we’ve established a bit of an awkward silence while you marvel at my brilliance, let me lay some practical knowledge on you. Here are the very basic things we want you to remember during BTFO.

You can’t do everything. Sandra and I are both a little crazy, and we wanted to make sure that you are least had an opportunity to do everything, so we have programmed stuff back-to-back from 9:30am – 6pm every day. You have a lunch break in the middle, and chapel every day at 10:30am, but still, that’s way too much. Some things are scheduled as breakouts, and occur simultaneously, in which case, unless you are a character in a Harry Potter novel, you really can’t do it all. We expect this, and will not be insulted when you skip things. We’re trying to have someone serve drinks in the commuter lounge during the afternoon, and Nouwen Chapel (a great scavenger hunt item, kids!) will be open all day as a place of refuge.

Your first priority is taking care of yourself. Which is why our self-care day is our first day. Taking care of yourself will look different to each of you, but should be in everyone’s mind. Whether that’s skipping a session and taking a nap, or leaving campus for the afternoon, you are welcome to do this. We’ll highlight things on the schedule that we don’t want you to miss, but we’ll also keep a library of the handouts that get passed around, so take all the breaks you want. This is important because …

You are probably already exhausted. I don’t mean just from thinking about all the stuff we’ll have to do during BTFO. I mean from moving, leaving a life behind or carting it all the way to New Haven. From leaving a job, or graduating college. From when the dog/kids/roommate woke up way earlier than you were planning on and then you couldn’t get back to sleep. Maybe, like me, you'll spend your BTFO trying to sublet an apartment in a different time zone. Maybe, like Sandra, your whole family will follow you out from the opposite coast and want to spend as much time with you as possible. Probably, your challenges will be unique to you.

Seriously, there are a lot of you. The Div School campus is only set up to accommodate so many bodies at one time, and everyone with their spouses, kids, and assorted entourage members is going to strain resources a little. Be nice to each other and to the organizers as we try to shoe horn you into the common room; practice radical kindness if we have to move inside for meals.

I think those are my main points. As my first yoga teacher said at least three times a session “Be gentle with yourself.” This is supposed to be fun, after all, and you shouldn’t feel like you’re drowning in your first week. If it starts to feel like too much, take a glance back towards shore – call a friend or a family member, or just take a few hours to do something you find nourishing. The lake will be there the next day, the next year, and it won’t have shifted that much.

-Kate

*I think in this schema, Petoskey stones = faculty publications. Anyone from around here has at least a few of them in their house, being used as paperweights. (Hey-o!)

** In truth, when conceived of, BTFO 2009 was imagined as a journey outward – first the self, then the quad, then the university, then all of New Haven. This remains a better metaphor for BTFO in particular, but the lake thing is really working for me right now.