From Time to Time

From New Zealand to New Brunswick; from Machupicchu to Malawi, on to Manchester and back to The Mayfield— my 6-month sabbatical has been nothing, if not active. What can I say to compare this sabbatical to my previous one 4 years ago? Well, this one provided less time, more adventure, fewer ‘measurable’ outcomes (2 submitted articles vs. 2 published books), and off the scale in travel miles. Full details of my official sabbatical report can be found in Appendix B, which is in response to my sabbatical plan, presented in Appendix A. However, in keeping with the style of the rest of this blog, it seems fitting to close my ON SABBATICAL journey with another “Top” list. This final entry presents Kathy’s Top 5 Tips for Planning Next Sabbatical…

5. Plan the sabbatical activities—trips, conferences, language classes, overseas workshops, paper submissions, etc.—all at the same time and as close as possible to the actual sabbatical start date. It’s amazing how many ‘other’ (very interesting, can’t-say-no-to) activities can squeeze themselves into the small gaps and crevices of time.

4. Guard against the ‘your eyes are bigger than your belly’ syndrome—yes, two weeks of Spanish lessons is far better than none and six days in Malawi trumps not going at all, but just think how much more enriching each single experience could be by itself… how about taking on less and spend more time savouring all it has to offer?

[Speaking of savouring, enjoy your Air Canada Elite status and all it has to offer while it lasts! Neither your body nor your bank account can handle this travel pace much longer.]

3. Don’t forget to thank Art, Kiri, friends and family for remaining interested in your rather convoluted, very full itinerary—when you’re home and when you’re not, and what time to pick you up at the airport. It’s quite an honour to have friends who keep a special calendar just to make note of your absences so as not to plan anything that you might not want to miss. This is no small feat when absences out-number presences over a 6-month period.

2. While not necessary to do immediately (since you vowed to be ‘grounded’ in Regina for the next few months), don’t forget to replenish all those travel supplies—fill up the ginger pill, digestive enzyme, and zinc lozenge bottles; buy more sensodyne toothpaste and anti-inflammatory capsules; don’t forget to set aside your ice pack, aleve, and golf ball to deal with those nasty plantar fasciitis flare-ups; and, of course, always leave room for Bourdieu or Foucault or whoever else you might want to bring along in your suitcase.

1. Celebrate all the successes and challenges that come with this career and life you’ve chosen—six months of your life filled with far-reaching travel, conferencing with colleagues, enrolling in language lessons, seeing a real, live kiwi bird, exploring Machupicchu, visiting family in NB, trekking the Tongariro Crossing, skyping from everywhere with Art, writing a paper with a colleague from across the globe, being at workshops and on safari in Malawi, getting published in ESM, sitting long hours on planes in anticipation, sipping a Guiness in Dublin or a Cheshire Cat in Chester, experiencing Peruvian fiestas and double-decker buses, and, last but not least, relishing those do-nothing, go-nowhere days at home, at The Mayfield.

Thanks for sharing this ON SABBATICAL journey with me. Until next time...

Dublin's Day

Fourth time in Ireland; third in the fair city of Dublin. I don’t really need much variation in my activities when I visit Dublin: A tour of the Guiness Storehouse, a pint or two of Ireland’s finest, and a wee bit of live music at The Auld Dubliner pub. It’s a homecoming experience each time. My plantar fasciitis (yes, it’s still going strong, unfortunately) prevented me from my usual walking tour so this time I splurged with the Hop-On-Hop-Off Dublin bus to get around. It was grand. Even the sun was shining most of the time.

If I wasn’t soooo tired of/from travelling at the moment, I would certainly admit that I live a charmed and blessed life to have such great travel experiences. Of course, the more I travel with Air Canada, the more Air Canada wants me to travel… now I am even getting upgraded to the ‘comfort seats’ (without faking a limp) and my checked ‘priority’ baggage almost always makes it to my destination. Imagine that.

To help make the transition back into my life in Regina, I was gently reminded I was wearing my Rider shirt when a guy on the plane from Dublin to Toronto paused as he walked by. “I don’t know if you heard,” he says, “but the Ticats kicked Rider butt last week.” (Yes, yes, I know.) I had to think of a quick comeback so I said, “that’s why I left town.” I’m still wearing the shirt out in public though so not all hope is gone.

Cat and Cage

The last time I was in Dublin was in 2007 (my last sabbatical, as it happens) and I stayed at ABC GuestHouse, where I now sit composing this blog entry. My memories of this place were much grander than the room size is, that’s for sure. I have a teeny, tiny loft room with a 6” television. So it doesn’t seem that this B&B is the draw to be back here… what could it be?

Oh, yes, The Cat and Cage… a lovely little pub, barely far enough away from here to get wet in the pouring rain, serving up the best darn Guiness I ever tasted. It didn’t hurt that they also offer a wonderful plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, carrots, broccoli, gravy, … well, you get the picture. And now I have a full belly.

I’m off to a good start with my short stay in Dublin. It was a smooth flight with Ryan Air from Manchester. However, the flight was preceded by a luggage search and body scan, which was followed with a 2 hour airport wait and a cattle drive onto the plane. These are the memories that I hope remain vivid, for when I think I might like to travel again…

MECT and Beyond

I rest in the after-math of contemporary theorizing. [That is, until I initiate my working group’s foray into writing a piece on our contemporary praxis as teacher educators.]

The conference was so worthwhile, even if only to connect with many people… those I’ve never met but worked with on the edited book, like Ole S. and Paul E. (both of whom I used to think must be very old men); those I was delighted to reconnect with, like Margaret, Paivi, Peter, Luis, Steve, Yvette, the Tonys; and the many new people that I enjoyed meeting and conversing with over the past few days, like Nigel, Mark, Heidi, Mary, and Norma.

But beyond math education researcher connections, I learned.

• There is nothing about any form of practice that makes it inherently liberating.

• It’s not productive to split the hairs of time as either wasted or well-used.
• Too often we call good students those who simply learn and leave.
• Theory helps map out our paths… it’s just not clear which comes first.
• Two qualities of a good [math] teacher: she loves her [math] object and she loves handing it [math] around to see how it is used.
• [Confidential info indicates that my manuscript will be accepted for the ESM special issue on Mathematics Education and Contemporary Theory. Fantastic (secret) news.]
• And finally, there's an old saying in New Zealand that if you have a dead horse, it's time to get off it.
  

So anyway, as I write this it’s "Cheers from Chester!" I fancied some sunshine and a train ride so today I ventured out of the Castlefield Hotel in rainy Manchester and caught a train to the historical city of Chester. It’s quite lovely here, sipping on a pint of Cheshire Cat Ale in a garden beside the Roman wall that surrounds the old city (while working on my SSHRC application, Take 4). Before beginning this trip, my chiropractor prescribed less walk, and more pints. (At least I think that's what he said.)

Suddenly, 4 mothers with about 12 children appear, saying ‘oh, yiya, it’s nice and quiet here’ [to let our kids loose on the tourist?!]. Time to drink up, and catch my train back to Manchester.

Departures from the Norm

As I peer down over the moving baggage carousel and the Regina folks gazing upward as they wait for their loved ones to descend the stairs, I desperately want to be arriving, not departing.

I feel like I’m in transition at the moment—instead of the usual feelings of excitement as an impending journey unfolds, I now have feelings of fatigue for yet another time of packing, carrying, sitting, not sleeping, flying, bussing, waiting, waiting, waiting.


So, the title (Departures from the Norm) doesn’t really describe the fact that I’m travelling. Oh no, that would be forgetting that I’ve been away more days this year than I’ve been home. Departures from the Norm refers to how I have decided to approach this trip. First, a little background.


Approximately 21 months ago, Tony Brown (MMU) invited me to be one of only 50 participants in an international conference on Mathematics Education and Contemporary Theory (MECT), to be held in Manchester in July 2011. 21 months ago, the exact details of my sabbatical were unknown—certainly, the plan did not yet include trips to New Zealand, Peru, and Africa. As I began to live my six month sabbatical, it became quite clear to me that I probably wouldn’t have any energy remaining for the one trip that was written in stone, so to speak, oh so long ago. So, here I am, trying to muster (muster, that’s a really good word, isn’t it?) enthusiasm—let’s just call it tolerance—for this last sabbatical trip.


So, as I sip on a Guiness in the Maple Leaf Lounge of Toronto airport, passing the five hours before my seven hour flight to Dublin, I settle on a new mantra. (By the way, settling on a new mantra ‘under the influence’ is, as I discovered last night, much less risky than painting one’s toenails while under such an influence).


Anyway, my new (departure-from-the-norm) mantra goes like this:

It’s a good day,
for being in the present.

Until we meet in Manchester, ciao.