Emma's world

In Emma's world, the colors are bright.  A big, bright yellow sun always shares the sky with a rainbow and just a few clouds.  Flowers vary. Sometimes her world is filled with colorful tulips; other times, bluebonnets. In this picture, she added a picnic blanket, cherries and diamond. She now colors in the background of her art.   In this piece, the background is pink, of course.  

Bold simplicity

I recently traveled to San Francisco to conduct focus groups for a consumer electronics company.  The topic of the groups was design.  The client did not want feedback on the technology behind the product; rather they wanted opinions on how the device looked: balance, contrast, color, unity, etc.  Oh glorious design!  This was a treat for me to get to focus on beauty, albeit beauty of a consumer product.  

My task was first to get the consumer to talk about design elements during the groups, then to draw conclusions about all of their various opinions in my report. In the process of analysis, I came to understand the design values of the various consumer groups I talked to.  In other words, I discovered that the notion of  "good design" depends on the relationship that people have with technology.  The meaning of specific design elements (line, type, shape, and texture) varied from group to group. It was as if each group of consumers had their own meaning for each design element. What looked good in one group was considered tacky in another.

 

As much as I enjoyed the research topic, the work was hard and intense.  The deadline was tight. The stress was high. My only downtime in San Francisco was the 10 minute walk from my hotel in the Chinatown to the the focus group facility off Union Square.   I worked in San Francisco when I finished grad school, but that was a while ago. Downtown SF seemed new, fresh and exciting all over again. 

I walked back to my hotel after the groups on two nights. It wasn't so late that the streets were completely deserted, but it was late enough that the usual work-a-day energy of the city was gone.  What was left were the streets, the lights, the buildings and store windows all fabulously displayed for

 me like an art gallery against an elegant black, San Franciscan night.

I was particularly taken by the window displays of Nieman Marcus on south side of Geary Street between Grant and Stockton.  I was alone on that sidewalk at about 11 at night. A few cars were passing on the street next to me. There were 5 window panels with five mannequins each dressed in couture. I was tired and this was my way of winding down.  I spent about 3 minutes with each display. I carefully studied each panel. If these images were beautiful to me, what was the meaning that I attached to the various design elements of the human form, the fashion, and the display?

I like bold simplicity.  I like that a single mannequin was presented alone in each panel. No scenery, no accessories, no props - just the image of a woman's figure draped in fitted, patterned material that was both simple and complex. I liked the dramatic colored back lighting and background.   I admired the entire composition of each panel - the lighting, the background, the figure, the hair, the jewelery, the clothes. Like the  simplicity of hardwood floor or a freshly cut lawn or even a well-designed website, there was strength and serenity in simplicity of the Nieman Marcus display window.

Last Fall, I was working on a design project for another client. Again, it was for a consumer electronics manufacturer.  A dear family friend died in Colorado, and I had to fly to Colorado for the funeral before I could finish my report.  I worked on my analysis on the flight from Austin to Denver. I worked on the report while I was waiting to catch the bus from the airport to Boulder.  I continued to tap on my laptop with my head down as I sat waiting on the bus for other passengers to board. But as the bus exited the covered loading zone,  I looked up and saw the landscape around the airport and thought, "Wow. Great design! " 

I grew up in Eastern Colorado, but it was if at that moment I saw the plains of Colorado for the very first time.  I saw the simple, bold straight line of the horizon splitting the landscape into two simple sections:  the earth toned land against a big open blue sky.  No trees, no hills, no buildings,  no signs, no billboards, no cars, no roads. For the first time, the simplicity of the plains were full of possibilities--expansive, open and beautiful. The meaning I gave to the design of the land changed. For the first time, I found strength and serenity in the landscape of the place I once called home.

Above picture scanned from title page of  "West of Last Chance" by Peter Brown and Kent Haruf  (W.W. Norton & Company,  2008).

Old Main vs. The Main Building

I teach my weekly account planning class in a classroom tucked inside a university building on hill in a quiet university town. It is ironic that a class that is supposed to teach students the skills to study people feels completely isolated from the rest of the world. My students can't even study or observe the students, staff or faculty who walk the halls or sidewalks of the campus because the class is held at night. Texas State is very, very quiet on Tuesday nights.

This isolation is not problem with survey research, as my students field their surveys almost entirely via the Internet. Yet for qualitative research, the Internet cannot provide the needed proximity to people. Qualitative research means watching, listening, smelling, hearing and sometimes even tasting the (real) world around you.

As we moved into the qualitative portion of the course, I was struggling to find a venue where we could all go to learn the skills of observation together. I could have given the students an assignment to go off campus on their own to study and observe a particular consumer segment. But instead, I wanted the observation exercise to be a group activity. It would be easier to teach the principles of observation if we all observed and experienced the same thing, at the same time.

So for pedagogical reasons, I jumped at the the idea of holding class at a sporting event when one of my students told me about what he said was just about the biggest, most wonderful upcoming event in the history of Texas collegiate sports. The University of Texas Longhorn were traveling down I-35 from Austin to play The Texas State University Bobcats in baseball/softball in San Marcos. Yes, this was going to be big, Texas style big. It would be a perfect venue for my students to hone their participant-observation research skills.

I asked the students to bring a notepad and pencil for quick notes. I also told them to bring a camera as research stories are told in words AND images. I told them to enjoy the game as spectators, yet to also step back and watch the event as outsiders observing at a cultural, symbolic level.

This was the assignment I gave the students

"Pretend I am from the moon and I need a little explanation from you as to what is going on. Answer the following questions.

1. What is going on? Explain what is happening here tonight. What is the meaning of all this?

2. What is being 'consumed'?

3. What are the business opportunities here tonight."

That warm spring night, I didn't play the role of the teacher. I became researcher/account planner along with my students. I was there as alumna of the University of Texas. I was there as a spouse of a University of Texas faculty member. I was there as a long time Austin resident.

But I was also there a Texas State faculty member. I grew up hearing stories about the greatness of both UT and Texas State University (Southwest Texas State Teachers College). As I always like to say, "half of my dad's family went to UT and the other half went to Texas State."

The night was a familiar, yet odd juxtaposition of Texas State and UT iconography: Longhorns on burnt orange t-shirts next to maroon and gold Bobcat banners and posters. It felt like a family reunion--- everyone related and familiar, just different with all the attitude of a family feud.

Here are some of the pictures full of symbols and meaning that tell one story of central Texas culture.

a

Purposeful Reluctance

I slip into denial every time I need to deal with cancer related things. I go to my follow-up CT or PET scans with other things on my mind (need to get a bid out to client; need finish grading projects; need to buy white tights for Emma's dance recital). Against what I know I should be doing, I am simply not present when I go through these tests. I am barely around physically as I always make sure I show up late. I don't tell my family about the tests until the very morning of the exams. I just don't want to have cancer (or even CT /PET scans) a subject of conversation.


The follow-up meeting with my oncologist forces me to focus a bit more. My doctor always swings the door open and bursts into the examination room with an opening statement that sets the tone for the entire meeting. For the past year, his opening line has been, "Your scans look great." No "hello" or "nice to see you again" as an introduction. Just, "your scans look great!"


And so my meeting on Monday was upbeat as usual. He actually closed our session with "You are too healthy to be here." Always a nice thing to hear from your doctor. Looks like my tests will now be extended to every 6 months. At some point, I will go to just annual scans.

And that little thingy in the lymph nodes? He said they did show up on the scan, but that they are completely normal. I should just wait to hear my doctor's opening line rather than get information from the nurse (who always manages to scare me with minor things when I call for the results.)

So all is good until my next CT/PET scan in mid October when I get to return to purposeful reluctance for a few hours.

Here is a picture of some cancer-wear for sale in the oncology office.

I wish....

Happy Spring, everyone!

Weather in Austin:The high will be 80F. Humidity is 24%. Wind is blowing at 4 mph from the north.

My mood in Austin: Stressed (with work), but generally happy. Sleeping through the night.

Hair status: Still short. Afro curls (cool). Opportunity to wear lots of scarves.

Remission status: Going to oncologist today to talk about results of recent CT scan. Need to talk about a curious little thingy in a neck area lymph node.

Here is a little Emma art to warm your spirit today.

Wishes of a 7 year old.
1. I wish for the world to be nice.
2. I wish that I could fly.
3. I wish everyone can be safe.
4. I wish that no one will get sick.

News from Texas!

Hello Dear Blog Readers. I am back with more stories from my world. Things are good. I passed my one year anniversary of my last chemo treatment. My sixth and last treatment was a year ago on Februrary 22. Thanks to the birth of George Washington, I will always remember the month and day of this important personal milestone.

What a difference a year makes. My hair is now big, curly and out-of-control. I call it "chemo hair," standard issue for cancer patients. I don't know how to deal with this hair. I deal by not dealing. So, my hair looks big, frizzy and out-of-control. (Nope, no pictures now-not until I can start managing this hair.) People know that chemo makes your hair fall out. But many people don't realize that chemo makes your hair grow back VERY, VERY CURLY.

So, I am back at work, having a blast living again. I am teaching, doing freelance research and thinking. Finally thinking about my dissertation research which still has so much potential.

Here is a story from my advertising research class (account planning). The objective of this week's lesson was to illustrate the value of research in the prevention of stereotypical, negative, offensive advertising images of women, men, minorities, the elderly, plus many more...(I like to think of advertising as an "equal opportunity offender.") I start by asking students to work in groups and use brainstorming techniques to generate a list of criticisms of advertising. After a few minutes, I ask students to call out the criticisms. I write each one on the blackboard. (Yes, chalk and a blackboard.I am very old school.)

Then I slowly I weave in the value of research (account planning) as a way to prevent these offensive media images. Meaning, if the people that create the advertising (art directors/copywriters) receive good research from account planners (researchers), then these ugly stereotypes wouldn't see the light of day in the form of TV spots or print ads, etc. Even though I am in a School of Mass Communication, I make the students focus on the ugly advertising images, not the ugly images in entertainment or on the news.

To get the point across, I use the example of TEXANS. Yes, poor little ol' Texans. Boy do we get stereotyped. ( I just realized that I wrote "we.") All of us in the classroom could relate to the number of times non-Texans ( in Texas, there are only two options: Texan or a non-Texan) assume we are uneducated racists, cowguys/cowgals with big hats, cattle ranches, and a horse (or now a big truck).

By asking students questions, I got the following two points across:

1. Research (account planning) is needed in agencies to prevent negative stereoptypes. For example, those New York City account planners need to come down here to Texas to realize that Texans do not all walk out of some Western cowboy movie. Images of Texans in advertising (and the media in general) should be reflective of reality. We are a diverse group of people down here. Texas is BIG; extraordinarily big; fabulously big.

2. If we had more Texans working in New York City advertising agencies, we wouldn't see all of these degrading images of ourselves. These expat Texans would be on the inside, speaking up and changing assumptions within the system.

Here is an example of a television spot to illustrate my point. Remember that classic 1990's Pace Picante spot? This commercial illustrates how New Yorkers (and the rest of the word) see us Texans. This ad made, "get a rope," a part of our popular language (again).

Requiem

John Updike died this week. He died of cancer. An article in the New York Times described him as a "sometimes acerbic literary anthropologist." An Op-Ed piece by Lorrie Moore wondered if he wrote about his death. She offers a quote from a friend: "I'm sure it will be discovered he was taking notes, for he was gifted at describing everything."

Turns out he did write about his death (perhaps keeping a notepad near his death bed?) The NYT published his poem titled "Requiem." His words are deeply personal, self-effacing, simple, exposed. The poem is below. (The typewriter image is also from the Jan 29, 2009 issue of the New York Times. )

I am a late bloomer when it comes to literature, as my undergrad education was a very Reagan-esk, 1980's type of curriculum: the 4 P's of marketing (that would be Price, Place, Product and Promotion), segmentation, positioning, branding, etc. It is only through all of the media coverage about Updike's death, that I learned of his ability to observe and write about the ordinary with the skill and precision of an anthropologist.

I often wish I had studied English and Anthropology. Perhaps I have a new hero? A new author for my "hope to read" list?


REQUIEM by John Updike

It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
"Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise--depths unplumbable!"

Instead, a shrug or tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
"I thought he died a while ago."

For life's a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.


No, his death did register, even if it was a belated introduction for some of us.

What year would YOU give up?

Recently, several friends said they missed my blog entries. I have been busy with work and family, but more importantly, I have frankly questioned my ability to keep this blog compelling. I can no longer write about cancer treatments. Now my stories are about cancer survivorship--meaning life after cancer--meaning life like it was, but different. Do I still have stories to tell? Observations to make? Here's one...

The other day David asked if I could eliminate a year from my life, which year would it be. Of course, most people would eliminate the year they were diagnosed with cancer. Not me. The year I was diagnosed changed my life. I gained an appreciation for life (all the little things). I confirmed what I knew: that I have a loving and supportive family plus simply the very best friends.

No surprise that I gained a greater appreciation for life, family and friends. But I gained another unexpected benefit. I experienced the healing power of creativity, in my case, writing. Instead of feeling blue about my treatments, my days were spent thinking about possible blog topics and writing drafts in my head. Oddly, those months of profound physical exhaustion were some of the most most creative and reflective times of my life. I had written before, but this was the first time that I wrote from my soul while others listened.

No, the year I would eliminate from my life would be one of the many years that I struggled to finish my dissertation. Yes, I would gladly remove from my memory all that time spent in intellectual purgatory. The memories of me slugging through the underbelly of the "uses and gratifications" theory of media consumption are still raw. They were lonely years-just me and my computer, stacks of journal articles, SPSS and empty coffee cups.

While my blog entries flowed effortlessly from my heart, often with tears in my eyes (from crying or laughing), the final version of my 250 page dissertation came out of some dark place on my computer's hard drive. Sometime I would use an egg timer just to keep myself at the keyboard.

Genice, a good friend of mine, recently started her own blog. Check out her perspective on my illness. She recently wrote an entry called "Taking Nothing For Granted" about me on her blog. You'll need to scroll down.


Genice's Blog

Turkey Kid Art

When I drop Emma off at her school in the mornings, I sometimes hang around the halls and take pictures of the great student work posted on bulletin boards outside the classrooms. These Thanksgiving turkeys were created by one of the first grade classes at Emma's elementary school. (Titles are mine.)

Happy Belated Thanksgiving to all!



A 'Holiday Too Late' Thanksgiving Turkey



A 'Holiday Too Early' Thanksgiving Turkey



'Mardi Gras' Thanksgiving Turkey



'Camo' Thanksgiving Turkey



'The FUN in dysfunctional' Thanksgiving Turkey



'Midwestern' Thanksgiving Turkey



"Brazil 1968" Thanksgiving Turkey