Blogging on the Powwow

Shortly after Neil died, people would say to me, "You know it's okay to not be okay." Truthfully, I can't imagine pretending to be okay. Someone recently asked if there would be tears at his service. No tears at the service? Since I shed tears everyday--at home, in the car, in the grocery store, at rehearsal, while I am out running, in my office, at his office, why would I not shed tears at his service? We are planning a "come as you are" event. All emotions are welcome.  I've lost my person in this world and I'm at the beginning of a very long journey to learn to live without Neil. It's unwelcome and most unreal, but here I am. Given Neil's age, I can't say it was totally unexpected, but the weight of his loss hits just as hard.  There is no right or wrong way to grieve. My approach to grieving reminds me a bit of my approach for when I moved to Washington D.C. to work in the U.S. Senate. Without a doubt, that's an exciting opportuni...

Dear Murray: You left this world four years ago tomorrow. I miss you. I think of you every day. Each year since your departure, I have chronicled another year without you (your initial departure in 2016 , and then in years 2017 , 2018 , and 2019 ) and this year is no exception. I have noted many times that I adored you, that you shaped my career in ways that were unimaginable for me when I met you, that you were, and still are, my foundation for social science research, my role model for collaborating with others, and that every day I aspire to your optimism, warm spirit, dedication, curiosity, and generous nature. And, every day I am reminded of you, in small ways, in big ways, and in all ways, in between. Recently, my administrative assistant didn’t have quite enough tasks to keep her busy. She asked me for more work several times. Just this week, I decided to give her some tasks -- for when she has down time -- that would help me with some analyses I’m about to underta...

I am remembering Murray this week, three years after his DOD. I think that I will always associate the end of an academic year with the time that we lost Murray. We knew that he was suffering and that he didn't have much time left. I was grading late into the night, feeling the pressure of what I call "the season of extremes" in academia. I had gotten little sleep when I heard from Murray's assistant: a text alert on my phone and then a phone call to let me know that Murray had passed away. I'm not able to visit his grave to mark the anniversary this year, instead I'm in the Caribbean. Murray would approve. He loved travel. I have my computer so that I can put out some fires at work and maybe submit that paper that I have in queue. Yes, Murray would approve of this, too. So, this week, I am holding close some of my favorite memories of Murray... Sitting with him at the long table in his office, hearing him talk about work and life Watching his enthusia...

Today is the two-year anniversary of Murray's death. It's the official day to pay tribute to him, to remember all the good that he did in the world. To remember how many children and adults live without or with less violence in their lives because Murray was curious and he followed the story that the data that he collected had to tell. It's the day to pay tribute to this wonderful human being: mentor, colleague, friend, social scientist, teacher, supporter, innovator, and endless optimist. A man who saw the silver lining when many others couldn't see any lining at all.  A scientist who took endless risks with his career. A man of morals and high standards. As I penned in my 2016 tribute to Murray, a man who "was engaged, enthusiastic, and totally committed to life every day, even at the end." Today's the day that the world lost Murray; that his family, friends, and colleagues lost him. Today's the day that I lost Murray: mentor and colleague, turne...

For those of us who knew and loved Murray Straus, we have made it through a year without him. This past Saturday was the one year mark of his death. Last year I wrote about Murray, his generosity, curiosity, warmth, and all of the ways that I benefited from knowing him. I also wrote how much I adored Murray and how going to Durham without him there would never, ever, be the same. True, that. The events leading up to this date last year have been on my mind: having lunch with Murray weekly during the last year of his life and my daily phone calls to his administrative assistant to see if she had news on his whereabouts, his well-being, and his schedule. She was such a source of support to me. In my office at my own university, I kept her number and Murray's number next to my desk phone for easy reference. This year while I am in Washington a colleague is using my office. I left a little sticky note asking this colleague not to remove the orange piece of paper next to my phone w...

Massachusetts has a new law: if your wipers are on, your head and taillights also need to be on. It's a safety issue. I like it. I hear that some Massachusetts lawmakers want to repeal it . But, I digress, as I often do when blogging. It's a new law in Massachusetts, but Maine has had this law since 1997. I know, because I did a research project on this law during my first semester of graduate school. That was fall of 1997. I completed an assignment for a research class on this new law. I was interested in how people know if a new law has been passed. This was before widespread use of the Internet and unlike now, there were no electronic signs along the highways. How would people learn about this law? I conducted a project in which I assessed the extent to which Mainers were compliant with the law. On five or six days when it rained, I parked on several different roads in Saco and Biddeford and among cars with Maine plates, when the wipers were engaged, I recorded wheth...