A.M. Dagoski: Pundit, Elitist, Knowitall, Librarian

It's December Days time again. This year, I have decided that I'm going to talk about skills and applications thereof, if for no other reason than because I am prone to both the fixed mindset and the downplaying of any skills that I might have obtained as not "real" skills because they do not fit some form of ideal.

09: Instruction

One of the things that was not made clear about what my job would entail was that there would be all kinds of instruction going on with regard to the library's resources. I expected there to be some amount of helping people wring better results out of the databases, or making their search engine queries work better and with the way the engine expected things to work, because that's the sort of thing that I trained on as a professional, and it's not necessarily obvious to the people who are just starting to use databases and search operators how to maximize them for best effect. Or even to know how those operators work and how to put them together so that they will produce something useful. (Yes, despite the understanding that I was not going into either a K-12 or collegiate space, I still held the belief that sometimes someone would seek help from the public librarian about how to do those kinds of schoolwork parts.)

Reality has told me that while those are useful things, it's highly unlikely that the public library user will ever get to the point where they need database tips or search operator optimizations. In the era of slop-generation machines, and the unwanted, forcible integration of those slop-generating functions into things like search machines or other aspects of our technological lives, I imagine that search operators are going to be even less used by the general public as they seek answers for what they are looking for, and are willing to accept slop because it looks correct and reads confidently.

What I spend so very much of my public-facing time doing is instruction, absolutely, but it is instruction of the most basic forms of technology interaction. Our print system, as I lovingly refer to it, is "[z]-teen fiddly steps, all of which have to be done in the right order or it doesn't work." Divided into parts one and two, of course, where part one is ensuring the thing that is desired to be printed has been properly downloaded and is printing the correct thing, because many people want to print the preview that they're being shown on the screen and then are confused when what prints is the e-mail behind it, instead of the document they can see. Or they want to fill out a document and print it, but the document itself does not have fillable fields in it, so instead I end up walking them through the printing process and then through the scanner process so they can scan back the filled-out form and send it to the people who want it.

And sometimes just getting to the document itself can be a real pain. For example, I had a document sealed with Microsoft Azure locks, so it wouldn't open in Chrome at all. The Microsoft website said we had to open it in Edge, which we did, and then signed in, and then it kept telling us that we had to switch to the right profile to open it, even though we were signed in to the right profile on Edge.

So then we opened it in Acrobat Reader, and it spawned an Edge window to ask for permission to open it, and when permission was granted and all the appropriate sign-ins were completed, the window returned an error saying that there wasn't a necessary token available. Nuts. That seems like the rock and the hard place at this point.

But, going back to Acrobat Reader and letting the process finish and close the "Hey, we opened up a pop-up, let us know when you're done" notification that appeared, it turned out we had successfully authorized unlocking the document, and the person was able to print their paperwork from the VA that had been sealed with this Microsoft lock. I strongly suggest involuntary chastity torture be applied to the engineers that inflicted this nonsense on us and made it not work when we did it their way and errored when we did it the way they wanted us to.

Or the countless times where someone has asked me why their form isn't submitting or moving on to the next page, and I scan the document, and point at one thing, saying, "That thing. It needs it in this form." The offender is usually ringed in a small red box, and has some text explaining the problem, but unless that's what you know to look for when something is having an error, you can breeze right by it, because you put in the information that was wanted, why isn't it accepting it?

I have, at least twice, helped people them pull their LLM-generated resume and cover letter out of the interaction phase with the LLM and into an application. That was mostly just e-mailing themselves the chat transcript and then dumping the text into Word documents, but to someone who hasn't done this thing a hundred times every day as part of their work, they need to be walked through the process of giving the transcript a URL to ping against, e-mailing said URL to themselves (a thousand curses upon the engineer at Apple that thinks that "Share" is the right button to hide "Save" operations behind), and then opening the transcript from the URL, copying the text and pasting it into Word, at which point they could start styling it as they wished. I have a certain amount of revulsion about people using those tools to do this work, but I am also somewhat professionally prohibited from giving advice to people on how to build their resume, apart from helping them with formatting or showing them where the templates are that they can paste their information into. We have community partners that can help with that, but those kinds of things usually necessitate a trip to the local metropolis.

It's often software that I have to deal with in one way or another when I'm doing these kinds of instructions, whether it's helping someone take pictures of identity documents and them moving them directly off their iProduct onto the computer so they could then be uploaded to the right site in drag and drop. (Which was the easier way, honestly, than any other available to them.) Or teaching someone, and then letting them practice, how to transfer material from their Macintosh to a storage drive, so they could eliminate it from their iCloud storage. (If my deep loathing for the way that Apple products and iProducts handle things like storage and directories and where something actually is hasn't come through yet, I should probably shout it louder.) When I'm in the weekly "Tech Help" program, there are a lot of things that need explaining, like how to slide a camera cover and make it possible for the camera to work. Or saving documents. Connecting to the Wi-Fi. (And then, occasionally, the secret ways to make the captive portal work properly when it doesn't do it the first time around.) Or helping someone with the apps on their iProduct and doing things with them. It's all stuff that would likely be covered in a class, or learned through experience of use, if you had started either the class or the use when you were younger, but many of the people here have neither had the class nor the long practice, and so I and the other person in the program are helping people as they handwrite the procedure for the thing(s) they have come to the program to learn how to do. This is not a knock on older people - it's just the most effective way for them to retain the knowledge and be able to use it when they're not in the program. (I write stuff down all the time to remember it and seed myself with reminders to do or follow-up on things.)

There's just so much need for what I would consider to be basic instruction in the use of computers that has not been provided, or is only being provided through a paying course, or only provided through situations where someone has to travel to the local metropolis, or it's only offered once a month as a three hour intensive, because that partner is doing the same thing at all of our locations and exhausting your community partners by making them try to sate the insatiable is a bad idea.

Many of these situations are happening with time pressure, as well, because they're running out of computer time and the library is closing and they just need to get this thing done first, why isn't it working! And that kind of panic often makes instruction not possible as much as being very directive about what needs doing. And once the thing is done, the person no longer needs the instruction, because they don't expect to need to do it again.

I've also found that a fair number of the people who are in the library and need assistance with working with the computers fall into one of two camps. The first camp hates computers and the increasing electronic everything and wanting as little to do with it as possible. They have had bad experiences with computers, or bad experiences with people who have said they are good with computers and have not figured out how to avoid looking down their noses at the people who aren't, and they prefer human to human interactions rather than anything mediated by a computer. (They most likely would agree with the maxim "a computer cannot be held accountable, therefore a computer must never make a management decision," and then go forward into complaining about how everything has to be mediated through computers, automated assistants, and chatbots when all they want is a telephone number to talk to a human so that the problem can be fixed in five minutes. Because the human will understand what they want.) Much like my younger self, these are not people interested in instruction or in retaining the instructions, because they never want to have to do that thing ever again, period. With enough repetition, I suspect, much like my younger self, it will sink in and they will learn things, but also like my younger self, they will never stop being salty about having learned it in the first place. They are people who will accept the idea that computers are stupid, but they will blame the computer for being stupid when it is a PEBKAC error.

The second camp are people who have become afraid of computers. Those people have often been fed the scary stories about black-hat hackers, and stolen currency, identity theft, and the exfiltration and posting of data, botnets, and all of those things that do happen, absolutely. They also know that phishers and predators are using computers, deepfakery, synthesizers, viruses, and other such things to fool people into giving them sensitive information or to just take it without asking. So they don't like interacting with computers, either, but it's because they've been convinced by a steady stream of media stories that if they press one key wrong, or click in the wrong place, it will mean that they have given access to a criminal organization that will steal their identity and all their money and compromise all of their systems. These are people who are open to instruction, but only so far as it gives them an exact sequence of steps to faithfully replicate, and if at any point, something happens that is not in the sequence, or the sequence produces an error, they have a panic because it's not working like I said it would be. It's a brittle form, because the slightest deviation, or the change of a UI element, or any other such thing is enough to change the entire thing and now they're back to baseline worry that something catastrophic will happen if they deviate even the slightest bit from a known-safe procedure. These people will not accept the idea that computers are stupid, nor are they particularly keen to understand that because of this, the people designing computer software have figured out how to put in all sorts of guardrails around permanent decisions. I try to give this piece of wisdom for the afraid: "If the computer asks if you're sure, and you're not, click the 'cancel' button." (I also try to explain to them that most criminals aren't after them specifically, they're either after the data that the company has, and if they get that, there's nothing you could have done to stop it, or the part where a scammer is trying to get you to do something before you think about it, and so the best way to beat those is to take the information given, and then find some other way to contact the people they claim to be, and confirm with that. I know it doesn't always work, even on people who know that's what's going on, but I try. And so do our community partners.)

Because I do these pieces of instruction so often, I've become a very practiced hand at doing it, and guiding people with all sorts of devices or different scenarios successfully to the result they want. Often times they misattribute this to some form of brilliance, superior intellect, or supernatural beneficial aura that I have and they do not. I usually try to pop that bubble by being honest about how many times a day I do this, and if they had the same amount of experience I did, they'd be just as good at it. I don't think the bubble actually pops all that often, but it very much is having experience in the general form enough, and having seen several of the most common (and a few less common) ways that the process errors or goes slightly sideways that I can course-correct in the moment to keep someone on track. And that also sometimes means knowing when to let go of the part that's saying "they're not doing it right!" or "they're repeating this step unnecessarily!" and focus on making sure that the thing gets done in the end, regardless of whether it was done efficiently or elegantly. Because most of the time, I'm not going to see that person again and they're not going to come back to tell me about what happened because of what we did. They're not interested in perfection, they're interested in satisfaction, and therefore any job that is satisficing is a good job. (Even in some cases where I know that the thing that they want to do, and the thing that would be actually effective toward reaching their goals are two very different things, but they don't want help on doing the effective thing, they want help on doing the thing they want to.)

For example, I was helping someone work through making sure their emails all synced to an iProduct. One of the un-synchronizing accounts just needed to be removed and re-added, and it started syncing again. The other was an account that kept prompting for a password, which we couldn't actually find, remember, or make, but after trying all the things we could to get it work, the person mentioned that everything from this account that was complaining about not having a password forwarded to one of the accounts that was already on and synchronizing to the iProduct ([annoyed grunt]!) So I deleted that account from the phone, and lo and behold, no more password prompts. That doesn't help the underlying problem of not knowing the password to get into that account, but it does accomplish what was asked of me, and the person left happy that I had fixed the problem they wanted help with. Satisfaction achieved.

If I had more time with people, and could guide them through repeated attempts to do the same thing, especially those things that sometimes have slight variances, I could help them build the skills they need to be able to do the more general form of the thing they want to do, but I don't get that. I don't have that for programming time, and I don't have it for those interactions on the public service floor. The best I have is trying to steer someone toward one or the other resources that can help with this, because they know they'll have someone for a class period, or a video that they can watch infinitely until it clicks, or any of the other things that are really needed for any kind of learning that isn't just-in-time learning. For that to happen, the person has to be interested in learning the specifics and the general situations, and most of the people at the library, I suspect, don't want to learn the general pattern of a thing, they want to learn how to do the specific thing they want done and to move on.

What that usually means for me is a lot of repeat instruction. Even though when I signed on to do this job, I didn't think I was going to be doing a lot of teaching. (And I still recoil from being referred to as "Teacher" in any way. I don't have an education degree, please don't call me that.)

Sometimes, though, people do come back, or they do tell me about what happened after they interacted with me. I helped someone put together a huge zip file of pictures and video, then showed them how to upload it to Dropbox and provide a shareable link to those that needed to see it. Then they came back a few days later and needed to add a new picture to the file, so we did that, too, and re-uploaded and re-shared everything just to be sure that it would work properly.

Or they appreciate the care and the rest that goes into the instruction. I helped walk someone through the process of first signing into their e-mail (and walking through the steps for a recovery to make sure they could get in, and gleaning that the person who had set up the account had set themselves as the recovery e-mail and telephone number, which could have made the process a lot shorter—all things that I have done before, but that would (and did) throw someone who hasn't for a loop), and then helping them walk through getting their boarding pass printed and confirmations all sent to the right places. By the end of this process, I was complimented by the person saying "after you've shown me how to do this, I could teach someone else how to do it." Which is certainly a goal of mine when it comes to helping people do these things.

It's December Days time again. This year, I have decided that I'm going to talk about skills and applications thereof, if for no other reason than because I am prone to both the fixed mindset and the downplaying of any skills that I might have obtained as not "real" skills because they do not fit some form of ideal.

07: Doppelganger

I am not the only person in the world with my name. I think the first time I realized this was when I was looking at the credits for Eek! the Cat (although I was much more a fan of the Terrible Thunder Lizards), and I saw my own name staring back at me, and went "Huh. That's cool. There's someone else out there in the world that has my name." It probably wasn't my exact name, middle and all, but it did teach me something important about names. (This does come up in my professional life, because the slips we use for holds use a portion of the name, and sometimes we have collisions that have to be handled. We also print some other things on the slip to prevent true collisions, but.)

And, occasionally, because I know that there are other people out there in the world with my name, I run my own name through the search engines and see what comes back from there. In this day and age, I am disappointed that someone who holds my namesake had significant academic credentials and is wasting them writing up books espousing nonsense positions that are all TERF and no substance. This is one of the places in my life where I recognize where the bar is, and am very glad that I'm getting well over that, even as governments around the world, including my own, seem determined to try and match that level or find new ways of digging underneath it. Blargh.

It is interesting, though, that despite the clear and obvious successes that I have with the way that I handle names in the process of creating and updating library records, my methods are not widely adopted or incorporated into the actual policy of the organization. Probably because the way I handle names is somewhat orthogonal to the way that the organization wants names handled. They are at least willing to acknowledge the possibility that the name a person will respond to most quickly is not necessarily the name that is on their identification, but they still seem to insist that if there's a difference between the two, we're supposed to record the name that's on the identification. If I inquired about the why, they'd probably mention something about the need to have the information on the identification in case of lost book charges or something like that. Our organization hasn't used collection agency services for years (this is a good thing), and so it's not like we need to send warrants, court orders, or process servers to someone looking for the reimbursement of our lost materials or other sorts of carceral enforcement mechanisms against people who lose books (which are often children, by the way.) And if someone's going to go to the trouble of trying to evade things to get multiple cards or to try and get rid of previous lost book charges aginst them, then they're probably putting in more effort than we really need to chase down. And, eventually, even the determined run out of aliases, or they get a little too known to the staff, who start pointing out that someone seems to be doing their best to run up lost book charges for whatever reason, and perhaps they will need to manage their other issues before receiving another card.

All of this is to say that a person's name should be whatever the person in front of me says it is, regardless of what's printed on identification or membership cards or other such things. And so, when I'm making library cards, I generally ask, "Is this the correct name for you?" and follow it up with "Is it spelled correctly?" if they say it is. I catch so many incorrect names this way, just by asking. There are some people who go by a nickname, there are some people who don't want to use their full names if they don't have to, some people go by what is supposedly their middle name, some people are either getting married or have stopped being married and therefore have a different last name, and I've seen a lot of people who are trying on new names in anticipation of possibly making other changes, or who are definitely on the way to making other changes and definitely want to use the correct name for themselves, even if they haven't yet had their identifying documents updated to reflect this. The best part about getting someone's name right by asking for it is that I can see the look on someone's face when they understand there's someone in front of them who is trying to get it right, and who is asking them about it, rather than assuming whatever's printed is correct. There are other people who seem genuinely confused about why I might be asking about it, but I'm sure a little bit of thinking about it will produce at least one of the situations I've talked about above, so they can understand why someone might ask. (Or maybe I'm being optimistic about how much people actually want to know the answers to things, or even whether they ask these kinds of questions.)

I've even heard it from my coworkers about how they think it's a good thing that I do these various things where I'm trying to make sure that I get the information. But I don't see a lot of that then getting put into practice. Perhaps because they're used to the routine they have, perhaps because they don't feel like they can deviate from a process that's been laid out in front of them about what needs to be collected. It's one of those things where if I had a useful pathway to the people who set the policy, and a belief that if we raised these kinds of issues with them, they'd listen and adjust based on the feedback they're being given, I'd probably do more advocacy for getting the official processes changed so that we can put down correct names for everyone in our library system. As it is, for some of those things, I have to invoke the Nick Fury rule about foolish rules.

And until then, I can at least have the knowledge and understanding that I'm still better than that other person who has my name and is wasting it by being a professional TERF.

It's December Days time again. This year, I have decided that I'm going to talk about skills and applications thereof, if for no other reason than because I am prone to both the fixed mindset and the downplaying of any skills that I might have obtained as not "real" skills because they do not fit some form of ideal.

05: Capitalism

As soon as I decided that I was going to let other people into my life and have them partake of my resources, I failed at capitalism. This is offered not simply as a trite observation or a tautology, but as a condemnation of the system itself, because capitalism as a system is about hoarding and always trying to have your resources be used in a way that produces advantage to you, and usually, it demands that the advantage be financial in some manner. The person with the biggest bank account wins at capitalism, and therefore it can't be anything other than the height of folly to willingly share your resources with other people without expectation of being repaid or otherwise reimbursed for such a thing.

It's why we have corporations that allow humans to evade responsibility and accountability for actions intended to reinforce greed, hoarding, and scarcity, with bad results to everyone else who is caught in this amoral situation.

If I had, instead of taking up with the idea that I might want to have companionship in my life, decided that I was only going to live alone, with my books and my poetry to protect me, then I would not have encountered so many of the expenses that I have in this world, regarding vehicles, and mortgages, and repairs, and replacements, and so many other things. I would probably have a much more comfortable retirement position, and savings, and possibly be wistfully wishing that I could afford a mortgage on a house of my own, but for the entire and complete bubbling of real estate right after the last bubble exploded. Or I might be aggravated about the rent and the presence of all the condos driving the rent up further. Who knows. It certainly would seem like I would be in a far better position with regard to capital and the use thereof if I hadn't embarked upon the choices that I did.

It's possible I could have some of those things to myself at this point if I hadn't made the choices that I did about trying to make a bad relationship work, because I wanted to make it work and ignored signs that it wasn't doing so. And because, as the entries so far have hinted at, I'm not exactly brimming with self-confidence in any domain outside of a space that I have both expertise and a firm understanding of the problem. Except, I guess, in some places where I have the confidence of a mediocre white man and don't notice that I'm outside of my expertise. So, I made bad choices and then continued to suffer from them for a significant amount of time. My failures at capitalism are numerous.

But even before that point, I'd definitely been failing at capitalism before. I decided to go into a profession that requires graduate schooling and that doesn't pay for shit, because it's a profession that's been heavily feminized and therefore discounted and devalued. I took on significant debt for something that wasn't going to give me great returns from it. (And that has an entire awe section about how crass it is to expect to be properly compensated for the job that you do, because if you are in it for money, then you lack the passion and devotion to the profession and should go somewhere else.)

Even before that, of course, I was also making bad decisions at capitalism, choosing to go to the more expensive and prestigious university that had the graduate school I eventually wanted to go to, rather than taking the scholarship offer to a different school for my undergraduate experience and then to go into graduate school with the grades from there and have saved significant money along the way.

It's not hard to set my life up, at least from a certain point, as a series of failures of capitalism and making poor decisions about money and therefore, if I am in a situation where money is tight, stretched, or otherwise a source of stress for me, then it's completely my fault because I made poor decisions. This is the mode that I generally operate on in my life, because I've also internalized the belief that I am the only thing I can control and change in my life, and used it as a way of making sure that I blame myself for everything that happens that may be negative. Other people may have contributed to this, and some of them may, to outside observers, hold significant or even primary responsibility for the situation, but that's not usually something that I will admit to, because to do so would be to let go of the belief that I have total and complete control over my situation and therefore I can simply will myself into a better situation. This is the curse of being brought up in a society that believes I, by privilege of my assigned gender at birth and the membership I have in whiteness, should be the unquestioned ruler of everything around me that is neither my assigned gender at birth and/or those who are not permitted entry into whiteness. It then encourages me, through media accounts, advertisements, and other means to blame those people who are not me and not part of my group as the cause of my unhappiness and lack of comfort. From there, I'm supposed to either vote in politicians who promise to hurt them for having the gall to try and exist or take some part of the resource share that is rightfully mine or to engage in direct action to dominate, control, or remove resources from those other people who have been taking from me through their mere act of existence, or who have been "taking" from me because my government is redistributing my tax dollars to the "undeserving," instead of refunding them back to me to that I can use them more effectively and efficiently on myself.

The choices that I have made that are not according to the dictates of capitalism have had many other benefits for me, of course. As, presumably, they have for you. The decision to go to the more expensive university also came with several years of participation in campus life, including the marching band (where my face was on national television for a brief moment as I marched in a parade), intramural sport and refereeing such sport, which may have further cemented my interesting in the Olympic program, and in several of the things that are charmingly referred to as "non revenue-generating sports" that are equally as excellent to watch, if you have the opportunity), and it likely expedited the process of acceptance into graduate school (as well as giving me the opportunity to understand whether I could function at that level) by making it so that the reviewers were comparing the grades of their own institution, rather than trying to decide whether the other institution has sufficient academic rigor for them to believe that my good grades really do mean that I can hack it at that level.

Choosing the profession that I have, even knowing that the money wouldn't be great, has resulted, all the same, in plenty of opportunities for my mental health to stay good (as well as several opportunities for it to be regularly trashed). Doing programming for tinies is still a thing to look forward to and enjoy. Helping people find things and showing them that we have access to the materials they're interested in is helpful, and sometimes there's a fair amount of appreciation expressed for it. There's something satisfying about being able to help people work through their various issues regarding technology and using it for their purposes, even if there's also sometimes a fair amount of frustration expressed at various entities because they made things obtuse, or because they dumped a device on someone, made some statement about it being intuitive and not needing any learning, and then skipped town instead of supporting the device they had just thrust on someone. Sometimes we get back a little bit of our teens who have gone on to other situations and parts of their lives, and they come back and appreciate what we were trying to do with them, now that they're adults who have to deal with the life outside. And there are always people who use the resources and appreciate that we're still here, even as they are themselves confronting capitalism's failures of them. And doing the work I've done has had me met all kinds of wonderful people and attempt all kinds of things that I might not otherwise do, like practicing my art skills, or penning articles for publication, or presenting at various conferences about the intersections of my profession and the professions and careers of others. Often in a "we should be able to work better together" way, but that working together is often curtailed by lack of resources and by the often aggravating, but very true assertion that a public library that has to be heavily involved in making sure people have basic needs met is not able to sustain more complex and more interesting programming for the majority of their users. (Much as it would be cool to do some of those things.)

The decisions I have made about relationships and about wanting human companionship in my life have resulted in having a house that I can then use to help other people have a house and companionship in their lives. And in pets, who are often yell, but routinely are also love. They have proven to me that there are friends that I still had outside of a bad relationship, and that the worst things that I think about myself are often not as terrible as I might otherwise believe they are, or that what I think about myself is the shadow on the wall being cast by something much smaller and less terrible.

And that some things are forgivable. And that others can be worked through, or around, or with, in a way that results in the thing getting done, instead of a way that results in the thing getting done and me feeling terrible about my failure to be a normal human being who can do all the things that normal human beings do without needing additional assistance from outside sources. Or without building structures and systems of reminders and pathways so that whatever the last mistake is, it won't be made again, making sure that all the mistakes of the future are novel ones. So long, of course, as the system performs flawlessly and I remember to engage it at every juncture that I'm supposed to.

Having other people around can mean articulating to them the secret fears that you have, or the ways that things used to go in other situations, so that they understand why you are expecting them to do one thing, or that you want them to do one thing, because if they do that thing, that will signal to you that there are no further things that will be sprung upon you later.

And, despite all of those things that I have done capitalism wrong with…I keep surviving. I keep finding ways to make the money work, even if it makes me fret a lot about whether or not the whole enterprise is going to hold together long enough to succeed. To me, this seems like standard operations, but to others, it might suggest that there's some sort of financial wizardry involved in here, to keep rolling with life and still managing to stay afloat, even with all the things that have been in my way. To me, it's mostly just persistence and sometimes a fair amount of denying myself anything that might be fun.

The persistence part is probably to good one. The long bouts of self-denial, probably not. But, there's another way in which I'm failing at capitalism, by not choosing to extend myself out to as far on the margins as I can, either in hope of a great payoff or because money is meant for my happiness, and so I should spend it profligately.

It's December Days time again. This year, I have decided that I'm going to talk about skills and applications thereof, if for no other reason than because I am prone to both the fixed mindset and the downplaying of any skills that I might have obtained as not "real" skills because they do not fit some form of ideal.

03: Chemistry

If you asked me about whether I can bake or cook, I would tell you no. If you then asked me whether I could follow a recipe, I'd tell you yes, and that I've successfully done it many times. When you point out that following recipe is literally the process of baking or cooking, I'll counter that with the idea that the sign of baking and cooking skill is somehow fixed in my head as being able to look at a basket of ingredients and understand how you could make a tasty meal with them, without the need to refer to recipe, only your own experience and technique. You can tell me that's a ridiculous standard to hold anyone to, and I'll agree with that, as well, and mention that my own head can be stubborn sometimes about what it thinks of as the baseline for being able to claim a skill. Because that kind of skill is not necessarily something that people who can follow recipes deliciously will ever develop, or necessarily desire to develop.

The domestic arts were not being taught that much in schools. There were classes with names like "life skills," which were often about learning how to balance a checkbook and keep track of your accounts, how to calculate what the additional costs of finance charges might be, including the one attached to a revolving credit account (more colloquially known as a credit card), and other skills that were meant to send us out into the world slightly less wide-eyed and terrified at the prospect that we no longer were bound to the school and would be considered, in the eyes of the law, contract or otherwise, as adults who could make life-changing decisions on our own. There were simulations about whether or not someone could live a month on the salary of the career they were thinking about going in to, which were also disguised ever so slightly as recruitment efforts to various places or career options, including the military. But at no point did I learn how to cook things while in school. I learned a little about it, using microwave technology and the conventional oven to do things like cook pot pies or make popcorn or other snack foods, but while I was a child, my stay-at-home mother handled the cooking, and while I was an undergraduate, I was on the dormitory meal plans, which covered most of my meals, and I could use some credit to have sandwiches or other such things for the one meal the dorm plan didn't cover. So, theoretically, I could avoid having to learn how to cook until I left the dormitories, and even then, I could have managed to avoid it by trading out cooking duties for other chores in the arrangements that I had while living with other college students. I didn't do that, but neither did I get much of an education in the arts of cooking and of shopping for myself. Not least because the last place I was in for graduate school had a strong infestation of ants, and those ants liked to turn up in insufficiently sealed cracker and cereal boxes. So I learned which foods not to buy because they attracted the ants to them.

Having left the tender illusions of schooling and moving myself to the Dragon Conspiracy Territory, with a job in hand, and soon, an apartment of my own, the lessons I had learned about frugality and making the dollar stretch meant that not only was I going to consider "eating out" to be a great luxury, it meant that I was going to have to cut back on the amount of already-prepared meals and foods and start using some of my spare time to cook up food that I would take for lunches to work. I had sandwich makings, and my indulgence, such that it was, was frozen pizza with a mozzarella cheese-filled outer crust, and some microwave meals for those nights when I was going to get home from work too tired to do much more than cook up that food and possibly vegetate or otherwise get caught up on the Internet's doings for the day.

(When I was in the relationship that hurt me, it was a point of pride for my ex that she did the cooking and feeding of me, and that I should not have to worry about it. Even when she was doing a fair amount of overspending the budget I vainly kept trying to set and explain to her that we had to adhere to, because my money was not infinite and I knew that if we got in the habit of overspending because she had money to draw on, it would hurt a lot when that money ran out completely. My attempts were all failures, because my ex was looking for excuses not to have to hold to limits and also told me that she believed anything other than a firm no was an invitation for her to more strongly argue her position. After telling me this, she would get unhappy and sulky when I switched to firm nos about things that I had been trying to use polite nos for. The no hadn't changed, but once she told me how to deliver it so that she would listen, that's what I used.)

However, 2dlife took, well, maybe not pity on me, but an interest, because C was skilled in the arts and was willing to teach someone who hadn't collected the necessary parts of being able to follow recipe and understand what techniques were being called for. This was meant both as skill-building and as lowering the intimidation factor toward cooking, because it's much harder to think of cooking as a daunting task when you can keep turning out delicious food by following the instructions in front of you. Under C's direction and instructional material, I made quiche. (The first one was perfect and delicious, and every quiche I made after that was chasing that first perfection. They were all still good, but they weren't exactly like the first perfect one.) I made braised chicken, and I made goulash, and stews, and I tried to make breaded, battered, and fried chicken, which didn't turn out as well as I had hoped, because while I'd made things, I hadn't made them to stick to the chunks of chicken I had as well as I wanted them to. And with each new item, I had learned new technique for preparation or cooking, to the point that by the time C was done walking me through things, I had a repertoire of things that I could make, depending on what I was in the mood for, and I could make them in sufficient quantities that they could serve as components for many different types of meals. The chicken went in lunches, but what accompanied the chicken changed throughout the week, so that I wouldn't get bored of it. And I still had the pizzas and microwave meals for variety and for those days where cooking just was not going to happen.

(Since the dishwasher in the apartment was broken, I also got very good at using the minimum number of pots and pans for these meals, because I dislike doing dishes by hand, and therefore would want to spend as little time on that as I could.)

Fast forward through the harmful relationship, and I am once again on my own and equipped with a kitchen to resume where I left off. Although by this time, C's dropped off the Internet, or at least LiveJournal, so I don't have the entries to refer back to again. What I do have, though, is the Internet itself, and so it's back to meal planning, figuring out what I want to make, and investing in a quality and sharp knife. Maki joined my repertoire of things I could make, and once again, the first one turned out beautifully, and many of the others turned out much less so. Presentation was not that important, however, because I was the one eating it, and therefore if it was delicious, it counted as a success. Shortly afterward, a long-distance relationship became a proximal one, and I returned to the more comfortable role of sous chef, doing prep work and assisting in cleanup while letting the person with confidence, skill, and practice do much of the main cooking work. My skills didn't atrophy, though, because these sessions had the same idea as C's in mind: I was learning things about how to gauge when something was done, I was handling preparation of various things, or at least the first stages of them, or being asked to watch them until they showed the signs of being done, and pretty often, I'd get the instructions on how something was done and the expectation that I would be able to turn out delicious food. And I succeeded in these matters, following recipe and instruction from someone who had the skills to look at a basket of things and figure out something delicious from them.

I'd still tell you no if you asked if I could cook, though. Even though there is one memorable instance in my cooking career where I may have shown up some people who did not have the necessary skills to prepare the food they had obtained for a gathering. Their chef had flaked on them, and so, because I was hungry and I knew how to make the food they wanted to serve, with one pan, a sharp knife, a silicone spatula, time, and spite, I made delicious food. There was definitely some incredulity that someone could just do something like that, but as someone who had trained with C's braised chicken and making C's quiche recipe, the food in question for the gathering was well within my capacity. And there were no complaints about the food that had been promised actually appearing, and being delicious.

(There is a story on my father's side of the family about one of the uncles taking over cooking and baking duties for my grandmother on that side as the cancer that eventually killed her (fuck cancer forever) made her no longer able to handle those duties. "I ain't heard no one complain," he said, when Grandma was trying to help him do things better. Being a person of sharp wit, she replied, "Are you still listening?")

As time has gone on, and other people have joined up with the household, cooking duties have been spread out and sometimes individualized, and sometimes not. I know that I've prepared the red beans and rice specialty from a housemate from recipe and direction, to excellent results, and I have been at last co-head chef for several years of the November feast and its requirements. This year, I flew solo on the November feast, and it was all delicious, and those who partook of the feast all agreed that it was delicious as well, so I suspect that means my cooking skills have significantly leveled up from what they were when I was just starting out with C, both for stunt chefery and feast chefery. I certainly have confidence at this point that I can follow recipe and turn out delicious things. (Chicken carbonara, oh, goodness, that was good, even if it was fiddly as fuck to get right.)

In the other half of chemistry class, most of what I'd learned how to do before University days were no-bakes and other items that required blending, but not necessarily baking and monitoring things until they were properly done, based on both the time that the recipe said and the eyeballing or toothpicking skills needed to ascertain when something is truly done and ready. The shutdown and shift to virtual services gave me a golden opportunity to practice skills that I had been self-conscious about (including art skills like drawing and crafting that I mentioned in the previous entry), and when I suggested to my co-presenters to try kitchen sciences with our child cohort, with the supervision of their adults, they were enthused about it. Which meant rustling up recipes for baked goods that could go from creation to full bake in approximately an hour, and then, live and in front of children and my co-presenter, actually doing the mixing, proving, rising, preparation, and baking for these objects. Shortbread first, then scones, pretzels, biscuits, pizzas, all different kinds of dough with different requirements of time, temperature, kneading, and the rest. I couldn't believe it when the shortbread came out of the oven and was delicious. I didn't believe I could do it well the first time. Some of the recipes I did a practice run with to make sure that they actually would go in the time that they claimed, and even the practice runs turned out well. As with the other things that I had made, I tried to emphasize to the children that if it was delicious, it was a success, no matter whether it looked perfect or not. Because the things I made were not uniform, perfectly-stamped objects all arranged in a row. They were different sizes, some a little looser or tighter than others, and showcased just how much of an amateur I was, and how much I was learning alongside them at doing this. But they were delicious, and the ones the kids made were delicious, as well.

I have had to learn how to adjust my spicing preferences to others' tastes, and to learn when to lean hard into spicing and when to have a lighter touch with it. But I am no longer intimidated by recipe, and the person I consider the cook in the household has been pointing out to me that I am already at the phase of making delicious food based on vaguer instructions than recipe, so I appear to be moving forward in skill and practice, so it's possible for me to make small diversions and adjustments to recipe based on the kitchen I'm in, and the taste of what I want. So, within a narrow band of possible parameters, and with instructions to hand, I can cook and bake, which is a lot more than I could do many years ago.

Let's begin with finally understanding how the Dresden Codex is able to calculate eclipses with exacting accuracy.

Alice Wong, ceaseless activist and person who wanted us to really look at not just the body, but the person behind it, and who often wanted us to know about things that weren't necessarily meant for "polite company" about it, has died. She knew it would happen eventually, but we were always hoping she'd pen a few more things for us to chew upon.

Having banned them completely outside of research studies for the under-18 crowd, the UK is announcing a large-scale clinical trial on the use of puberty blockers in the under-18 cohort. Presumably so they can have their own conclusions about how safe and effective they are, even if that kind of conclusion is unlikely to be tolerated by the ministers who want to use it as a further cudgel.

We must once again stress that all things that are natural are not necessarily good for you, and that people who want to charge you money to give you no information about how to safely have birth, and who will actively encourage you not to seek appropriate care and assistance in the case of complications or emergencies are not trustworthy nor should they receive any kind of money at all. Of course, they're not advertising themselves that way, so it can be harder to spot the fakery until you're in it, and since it also preys upon the vulnerable, it may not be something that you notice is fakery or a problem until something terrible and tragic happens.

Even if the way that can be named is not the eternal Way, being able to identify and label your emotional states can go a significant way toward regulating them.

( The usual: USPol, technological terrors and failures, and the rest )

Last out, the right to say no, and how the increased automation of things that need a human touch continues to erode that right, not the people directing the greater automation necessarily believe that the people they're automating were human in the first place, and the way that tools become integrated into the human experience, and how accepting things like the stochastic parrots in their current form only benefits the people who want to continue the dehumanization process.

And, of course, the Dreamwidth December points sale is on! Support the site with paid services, get 10% of your order in points that you can use to make a later purchase cheaper or free. And if you already have paid services and want Dreamwidth to continue as the best LJ fork created, and to also routinely assist in punching governments in the nose when they try to impose poorly-thought-out laws and rules under the guise of protecting children from adults, consider wither turning communities into paid accounts, adding icon slots, or playing Paid Account Fairy and using the function that allows you to gift paid time to a specific person or to a random active user of the site.

(Materials via adrian_turtle, azurelunatic, boxofdelights, cmcmck, conuly, cosmolinguist, elf, finch, firecat, jadelennox, jenett, jjhunter, kaberett, lilysea, oursin, rydra_wong, snowynight, sonia, the_future_modernes, thewayne, umadoshi, vass, the meta_warehouse community, little_details, and anyone else I've neglected to mention or who I suspect would rather not be on the list. If you want to know where I get the neat stuff, my reading list has most of it.)