Fur and Morality: 28 Jan 2006
Bonjour!
Rachel spent an extra three weeks in Alaska, just returning to Montreal this past weekend. In order to ease getting her back to Canada, my mom flew with Rachel from Anchorage to Chicago, and I flew south to meet them there. The three of us had an easy going and pleasant weekend that included a lot of eating out with a glass of red wine on the side, a walk along the lake, and a stop at a fur store on Michigan avenue. The last activity on the list was, for me, the most surprising.
My mother was raised by her grandparents in a remote area of Western Alaska. The winters were spent by my great grandfather alone for months at a time with no one but his dogs accompanying him. These months consisted of him following a trap line in which he caught animals ranging from mink, beaver, wolverine, to one time, a brown bear. After catching the animals he would skin them and dry the fur on hand-made wooden shims. In the spring, before the snow disappeared entirely, he'd head back to Naknek, where the family lived, and nail the shims to the side of the house to dry. Then David Green, a furrier from Anchorage, would fly to Naknek to visit with my great grandparents, drink tea with my great grandmother, and then head out to the back of the house with my great grandfather to hand pick the furs he would purchase. Looking at the coats in the Michigan Avenue fur store made me reflect on the long process between one man alone in the winter mushing dogs along a trap line, to a woman or man wearing an ankle length coat in the city. Though I doubt furs are still gathered in quite the same way they used to be in a remote part of Alaska.
Rachel's extra time in Anchorage meant she got to play a little longer with her cousins and take an extra break from school. For me, it meant I had the freedom to deal with a bout of shingles that still hasn't left me. At the worst of it I was so tired my days were no more than five hours of wake time. Gratefully, my condition has improved from that though I'm still itchy and generally run down.
School this semester has proved interesting. I'm excited about the classes I'm taking, which is a good feeling. And I love teaching the Intro to Philosophy class. Undergrads are so enthusiastic. It's fun for me to watch the students start the hour long Friday class staring into space, and finish excited, fully participating in the discussion. They seem to be picking up basic ideas about what a philosophical argument actually looks like and how to critique one, and then go back and improve upon it. Several students have told me that this is the first philosophy course they've taken and they're finding it very fun. It's great to see because it reminds me what I'm doing in graduate school. I'm here because I've always found philosophy, even in all its hard work, a lot of fun too.
The most recent addition to stories about Rachel's Ecole (school) consists of me trying to get her enrolled for next year. Her school sent home a two-sided form entirely in French that I was able to recognize as a registration form. I checked the "oui" box where it asked if Rachel would be returning to school next year and then signed the form and sent it back to school.
The next day Rachel's school principal called explaining that I forgot to check the "Moral" portion of the form. In the states we don't teach our elementary school children morals so I had to ask further what he meant. He explained that I have two choices. As he put it, I can select "Moral Religion" or "Moral NOTHING." Asking him further what he meant he explained that I can choose to have Rachel learn "Moral Catholic" or "Moral NOTHING." Utterly perplexed I kept asking questions until I sorted out what I THINK he means.
Apparently, starting at first grade the public education system here in Montreal includes a moral education and now that the Catholic church and the Public School Board have been separated (this only occurred about three years ago) parents have the right to choose if they want their children educated in Catholic Morals or NOTHING morals.
It's pretty awkward, when things are put in those sorts of terms, to tell your child's principal that you want your kid educated in NOTHING morals, especially when you're already the bumbling American that gets your kid to school late at least six times a week (she only goes to school five times a week, so six times is hard to pull off). Finally the principal adjusted how he'd been talking about it and explained that I could select "Morals plus Catholic" or "Morals plus Nothing." After that it was easier to choose.
Hope you're all doing well! It would be great to hear how things are going as we slide our way into February.
Lots of Love,
Elaine
Rachel spent an extra three weeks in Alaska, just returning to Montreal this past weekend. In order to ease getting her back to Canada, my mom flew with Rachel from Anchorage to Chicago, and I flew south to meet them there. The three of us had an easy going and pleasant weekend that included a lot of eating out with a glass of red wine on the side, a walk along the lake, and a stop at a fur store on Michigan avenue. The last activity on the list was, for me, the most surprising.
My mother was raised by her grandparents in a remote area of Western Alaska. The winters were spent by my great grandfather alone for months at a time with no one but his dogs accompanying him. These months consisted of him following a trap line in which he caught animals ranging from mink, beaver, wolverine, to one time, a brown bear. After catching the animals he would skin them and dry the fur on hand-made wooden shims. In the spring, before the snow disappeared entirely, he'd head back to Naknek, where the family lived, and nail the shims to the side of the house to dry. Then David Green, a furrier from Anchorage, would fly to Naknek to visit with my great grandparents, drink tea with my great grandmother, and then head out to the back of the house with my great grandfather to hand pick the furs he would purchase. Looking at the coats in the Michigan Avenue fur store made me reflect on the long process between one man alone in the winter mushing dogs along a trap line, to a woman or man wearing an ankle length coat in the city. Though I doubt furs are still gathered in quite the same way they used to be in a remote part of Alaska.
Rachel's extra time in Anchorage meant she got to play a little longer with her cousins and take an extra break from school. For me, it meant I had the freedom to deal with a bout of shingles that still hasn't left me. At the worst of it I was so tired my days were no more than five hours of wake time. Gratefully, my condition has improved from that though I'm still itchy and generally run down.
School this semester has proved interesting. I'm excited about the classes I'm taking, which is a good feeling. And I love teaching the Intro to Philosophy class. Undergrads are so enthusiastic. It's fun for me to watch the students start the hour long Friday class staring into space, and finish excited, fully participating in the discussion. They seem to be picking up basic ideas about what a philosophical argument actually looks like and how to critique one, and then go back and improve upon it. Several students have told me that this is the first philosophy course they've taken and they're finding it very fun. It's great to see because it reminds me what I'm doing in graduate school. I'm here because I've always found philosophy, even in all its hard work, a lot of fun too.
The most recent addition to stories about Rachel's Ecole (school) consists of me trying to get her enrolled for next year. Her school sent home a two-sided form entirely in French that I was able to recognize as a registration form. I checked the "oui" box where it asked if Rachel would be returning to school next year and then signed the form and sent it back to school.
The next day Rachel's school principal called explaining that I forgot to check the "Moral" portion of the form. In the states we don't teach our elementary school children morals so I had to ask further what he meant. He explained that I have two choices. As he put it, I can select "Moral Religion" or "Moral NOTHING." Asking him further what he meant he explained that I can choose to have Rachel learn "Moral Catholic" or "Moral NOTHING." Utterly perplexed I kept asking questions until I sorted out what I THINK he means.
Apparently, starting at first grade the public education system here in Montreal includes a moral education and now that the Catholic church and the Public School Board have been separated (this only occurred about three years ago) parents have the right to choose if they want their children educated in Catholic Morals or NOTHING morals.
It's pretty awkward, when things are put in those sorts of terms, to tell your child's principal that you want your kid educated in NOTHING morals, especially when you're already the bumbling American that gets your kid to school late at least six times a week (she only goes to school five times a week, so six times is hard to pull off). Finally the principal adjusted how he'd been talking about it and explained that I could select "Morals plus Catholic" or "Morals plus Nothing." After that it was easier to choose.
Hope you're all doing well! It would be great to hear how things are going as we slide our way into February.
Lots of Love,
Elaine
posted by hawkbrwn at 8:36 p.m.
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