Biking Eugene

Katie D.

September 4, 2010 - 6:23 PM

It's finally happening. After four years of life in Eugene, witnessing and envying the freedom and quirky culture of bike riders in this bikable city, I have finally done it. I've plowed over a lifetime of bike fear and actually made bike riding a part of my daily life.

I've blogged about this whole biking issue before. It's something I've spent lots of time thinking about, a topic I've been embarrassed about since all the other kids in the neighborhood lost their training wheels. I don't like to admit to being afraid of things, or to being bad at things. And I've always been bad at biking, and afraid of the whole idea.

Now I'm not either anymore.

I've biked to school the last five times I've gone. I even biked yesterday when I was raining. I bike on streets, in bike lanes, and on the gravel path through the graveyard. I bike on campus. I bike in rain pants, I bike in sandals.

I don't know if any other single week has ever brought such a sense of achievement: of legitimately conquering something that's frightened me for years.

I love biking Eugene. I've got my route all worked out, and I'm becoming more and more comfortable with it. I don't ride without my handlebars yet, but I am riding with a comfort and confidence I would never have imagined for myself. It's FAST. I get from my backdoor to the front door of the Law School in twelve minutes, barring bike parking difficulties. I feel this great rush of pride when I navigate some tricky spot in the road, or when I make the trip in record time. I feel a kinship with the other bikers on the road. I obey traffic laws and watch out for cars: especially parked cars. I have this enduring fear that someone's going to open their door into the bike lane. Otherwise, seems like it's mostly smooth sailing to be on two wheels these days.

Well, mostly smooth sailing. I have some hilarious bike mishaps to report already.

I had a hell of a time learning to park my bike. It's harder than it looks. Spots are a premium these days, with alternative transportation being so popular. I arrived on campus one morning and was staring hopelessly at the bike racks for a few minutes, tried to jam my bike into a couple of spots, then dropped part of my lock a total of three times before successfully locking the thing. It took more than five minutes. Three other people cruised up, parked, locked, and sauntered into the building during the time it took me to muscle my way through a simple procedure like parking. I kept hearing my mom's voice quoting her mother, saying "for crying out loud!"

The next is un-parking. On Wednesday, I left the Law School to find myself completely parked in. The bikes on either side were jammed up on mine, with peddles caught in spokes and handlebars overlapping. It was a mess. After casually trying to fix the mess for almost ten minutes, I went and took a phone call. After a half hour chat, I had calmed down enough to fix most of the problem through gentle placement adjustment, and then got help from another biker to finish the job. I really hope someone was watching: I'm sure it was hilarious. I wasn't laughing.

The last and final bike fiasco is the most tragic. I've been very careful about sporting the "Eugene Biker" style: the right pants leg rolled up past mid-calf. For a while after arriving on campus, I thought this was some kind of weird hipster style. Now I know it for the vital function it serves: keeping your pants clear of the gears on your bike. Like I said, I've been careful. Except for once. I was powering up a hill, repeating "I think I can, I think I can" under my breath, when everything kind of lurched and I heard the ripping sound. I took a six-inch chunk out of my favorite pair of jeans. Figures, doesn't it? So now I've got to learn how to sew, and have no excuse for future stupid wardrobe mistakes.

Comedic bike setbacks aside, I am totally in love with this new lifestyle. I love the helmet hair. I love the rain pants that let me cruise through the rain completely dry. I love the way my tires sound on the pavement, and the way it feels to crest a hill. I love cruising down a slope, hitting green lights the whole way.

It's a brave new era for this bike-riding girl. Embarrassed it took me so long? Sure. But happy to be living the bike life in Eugene from now on? Excited doesn't even begin to express it.

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Grandpa

Katie D.

August 30, 2010 - 11:14 PM

My grandfather, my mother's father, had a stroke yesterday morning. My mom is out in Minnesota with my grandparents, which is really lucky. She's with them at the hospital, and it looks like Grandpa will be OK, but it's a scary thing. I've spent today not really knowing what to do with myself, so I've been talking with family when I could, spending a good amount of time praying and sending love their way, and generally trying to be easy on myself. It's a scary thing when a family member is in pain, and it feels like I'm a long, long way away. There's nothing I could do if I was there, but it feels like I should be trying to do something more.

My Grandpa John is a wonderful man. I've spent a part of almost every summer of my life out in Minnesota with my mom's family. I spent countless hours in their old barn, climbing the trees, and running around on the hill and in the house overlooking the corn fields. My grandfather is a retired Jack-of-all-trades: farmer, cop, bus driver. My memories of him are of an active man finally taking a break. I remember him in the big rocking chair, him letting me drive the ride-on lawn mower, him showing me the old farm tools in the garage. He has this huge, resonant voice that can shake the table. The house smells like coffee and cooking and wood and age. He wears black suspenders and a series of shirts my mom has sent him for birthdays over the years.

They moved into a townhouse in Watertown a couple of years back. The new house smells like them already, but I miss the old farm. But Grandpa's still just like he is: telling his stories, speaking in his slow voice and telling us jokes, and reading his novels in his big comfy chair.

I hope things will be OK. I'm sure they will be. Despite being diagnosed with Parkinson's recently, my grandpa is a powerful guy. Strong and determined to stay that way. I've been calling more often, and he's proud as could be of my, my sister, and my cousins. He loves hearing about my Master's program, and about my life out here in Eugene. He tells me stories from his days as a police officer, and updates me about life in Watertown (as small town as small towns come).

Update: September 5

Things are going much better with Grandpa. He's regaining strength, has been taking off the breathing machine, and is talking clearly (and clearly voicing his desire to return home). He has strong mobility on his right side, and hopefully the left will come back with physical therapy. He has pneumonia, but it looks like he should be OK. His family is there, including my mom, who will be heading back to Colorado soon.

I'd like to ask a couple of prayers of you, friends and readers. First, if you're the praying type I'd surely appreciate a prayer or two for my grandfather and my other relatives out there with him, especially my grandmother. If you're not the praying type, then a thought sent their way would be just as appreciated. Second, I made myself a goal on Saturday (that's before Grandpa's stroke) that I was going to try to be in better communication with my family. It can be hard being away from the folks you love, away from giving and receiving the support we all rely on. So I'd ask that you write a letter (everyone loves getting good mail) or calling someone. I'm sure there's someone who needs a call. A letter can be short.

This blog is written with love for my grandfather, John Hermann. With so much love.

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Mediation

Katie D.

August 29, 2010 - 10:25 AM

This weekend and next weekend, the CRES cohort is participating in a mediation training which provides the groundwork for future work in community and law-based mediations.

For those who have not been involved with mediation in the past, it is a form of conflict resolution in which two parties (or sometimes more) bring a dispute to a mediator (or team of mediators) and together work out a resolution acceptable to all participants. Mediations occur in a huge range of situations, from disputes in the workplace to roommate arguments, divorce settlements, small claims, and development.

As mediators, we are learning to become a neutral third party, able to navigate a dispute between two parties and to guide them into reaching a resolution satisfying to each.

It's an intriguing process. Basically, when two people are upset at each other, there is often such a breach of communication that they can't even hear the other person's perspective anymore. The emotions of a dispute get in the way of understanding the immediate issues at hand. A mediator listens to each party, affirming their interests and creating an atmosphere of equal dialogue.

It's sort of like a dance. Essentially, you ask each person to share their stories. Then you summarize each story, affirming that their perspectives are heard and valued, but removing the inflammatory language so the other party can access the underlying issues.

We spent the last two days learning the techniques for mediation. These include basic skills like questioning and active listening, as well as specific procedures for moving through a mediation meeting with the parties. We've witnessed demo mediations, done exercises to practice concepts, and held mock mediations.

I'm beginning to get the feel for the process and practice of mediation. It has to do with creating a safe space of dialogue, in which the participants themselves can begin to first voice their concerns and then develop their own solutions.

I'm not sure this is the area of conflict resolution I will be spending most of my time with. But I can immediately see these skills applying to my own life and methods of communication in the world. I can imagine situations of negotiation and relationships in which this model for resolving conflicts could make an amazing difference.

It has been a demanding first weekend in the program, with two marathon days of training. But I already feel I've grown in both practical skills and in self-confidence. Next weekend we will complete the training, and maybe I'll start working with a mediation provider as part of my internship requirement.

Regardless, I feel lucky to have these new skills. Transforming conflict into resolution is a powerful and exciting concept. I can't wait to put my mediation training into practice.

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First week in the CRES Program

Katie D.

August 26, 2010 - 5:47 PM

It's been an amazing first week of school.

Conflict Resolution (CRES) has started with a bang with getting to know the other members of my cohort, holding mandatory meetings, and starting with class. We've all started to get to know each other, and to build a real sense of solidarity and group unity, just in this one week of classes. We've also gotten closer and more comfortable with the faculty and staff in the program. Every day I am more impressed with the administration of this program: although CRES is a new program at the UO and there are the inevitable complications, there is a real sense of passion in the administration. The staff is so concerned with our experience in the program, and the faculty are constantly reaching out to make sure we have what we need to be successful students. Ellen and Kata in the CRES office already knew us by name and picture before we even showed up for the first day of class. They work with us for scheduling, planning, and even the minutia of book purchasing.

I feel like I am entering this new phase of my academic life with more support and care than ever before.

This was our first week of class. Right now, we have only one class: Philosophy of Conflict Resolution with Professor Cheyney Ryan. We meet three days a week for three and a half hours each class. In Cheyney's (he's a first-name-basis kind of professor) class we are learning about the background and philosophy of conflict resolution, and the various ways of applying alternative dispute resolution in various contexts. We are reading legal texts and watching Hollywood films. We are discussing theory and personal stories. It is a perfect introduction to this interdisciplinary field: the beginning taste of the richness of conflict resolution.

Cheyney gave us a frame for understanding conflict resolution that is incredibly helpful to me. He explained that there are two basic ways of understanding it: pragmatic and visionary.

The pragmatic approach is based in the legal history of conflict. Basically, there are certain areas of conflict that are best resolved outside the court room. Issues dealing with human emotion, such as family law, are not well-resolved by a judge, but rather by the participants themselves. Another approach is that the court system is so overwhelmed by small claims that a more expedient and rational way of dealing with small claims is to settle outside of court.

A pragmatic view of this field leads to mediation (family mediation, small claims, business, interpersonal) and a continuing relationship between mediators and the legal system. Basically, the system works but can be improved with some alternative dispute resolution methods.

Visionaries see conflict resolution as a way of re-inventing human interaction to eliminate violence as a way of resolving conflict. This idea comes largely from a religious background, and is associated with the Civil Rights movement, with Gandhi, and with modern movements for peace and social justice.

Visionary individuals would work in restorative justice (working with criminal law), environmental law, and other sweeping reform groups. Visionaries would see the system itself as broken, and that the techniques and ideology of conflict resolution being a new model of human interaction.

I have so much left to learn.

As we discuss questions of history, of individual perspective, and basic theories, I am learning more about myself and about my classmates. Cheyney encourages an introspection uncommon in my experience: that we are integrating the material learned with our own view of society. My fellow CRES students are interested in a huge range of fields, from business mediation to law to environmental policy to education. There is a place for us all within this field. And our class discussions are immeasurably enriched by these exchanges together.

I can't wait to hear more. To read the homework and see myself and my ideas within the pages. To have my views challenged and broadened. To hear Cheyney frame this program, and to see my peers broadening my aspirations.

We're all in this program together. Visionary or pragmatic, regardless of area of interest. We're at the table together, sharing skills and ideas.

It has been an amazing first week. Busy, full, challenging. Just how I like it.

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Madeline

Katie D.

August 22, 2010 - 10:49 PM

In less than six hours I will be in the Eugene airport, bidding a temporary farewell to one of my best friends as she heads off for a four-month study abroad in Northern Ireland.

Madeline and I have been friends for the last year. We were classmates in Inside-Out last year, earning us the unlikely term "old prison buddies." Since then, we have not only become great friends, but partners on a variety of projects. We worked together when Sister Helen Prejean came to campus last year. We wrote newspaper articles and project proposals. She helped me through the emotional roller coaster of my thesis. We were partners in editing the Turned Inside-Out magazine. We worked together on the Serbu Inside-Out book club. We've been to concerts, academic events, camping trips, fund raisers, and a selection of Eugene's best restaurants together.

She's all I could ask in a close friend, a working partner, and a confidant.

This will be her senior year at the University of Oregon. She's spending fall term in Northern Ireland, working on research and internships relating to the troubles there over the last few decades. This involves helping individuals fleeing conflict (or actual threats) in the Protestant/Catholic divided neighborhoods. She'll also be working with youth, to help allow future generations of the community to find common ground rather than learning the divisions of the present.

As always, I am excited and inspired to hear about the study abroad options my friends choose. It seems like an incredibly opportunity to me. She'll learn about conflict resolution and divided communities by being present in one of the most interesting ongoing ethnic conflicts in this century. I imagine the places she'll go and the experiences she'll have. This is travel at its best: the ability to both explore a new country and to experience things beyond the range of tourism and outside of the average experience of locals. I can't wait to hear the stories, see the pictures, read the newspaper clippings she's promised to send. We'll have skype dates, lengthy emails, and possibly the occasional text message.

Still, I'll miss my friend. I've seen her almost every day in 2010. Plus texts and phone calls. She's part of every bit of my life, either as a central participant or as a constant and compassionate listener. I can't even imagine my prison work continuing without her, since she's been such a central part in the leadership as well as in working through the emotional parts of the experience.

So I'll be going to the airport at 4:45 am on my first day of grad school classes to see her off. I've written her a letter to take on the plane. I'm remembering my own departure for study abroad, and imagining my future adventures. She's in this moment right now, starting some new fabulous part of her life.

I sent her with my favorite quote of all time: "Tell me, what is it that you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" --Mary Oliver

Obviously, Madeline is living her life as wild and precious.

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