Emily Isaacson
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emilyrisaacson.bsky.social
Emily Isaacson
@emilyrisaacson.bsky.social
290 followers 240 following 230 posts
Small college prof. Early modernist. Director of Honors and Gen Ed programs. Sometimes professional. Always seeking delight. Views entirely my own.
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I start each era of my survey course with a conversation about what students already know about the period. Yesterday we started the long 18th century and I have never had a group so enthusiastic about the time period. Thanks, Bridgerton.
Introduced the five year old to “The Monster Mash” and he is appropriately thrilled with it.
There is much that bothers me about the White House ballroom.
But as someone who loves neoclassical architecture, the resulting asymmetry is making me pull my hair out.
Just saw a TikTok where a mom proposed that so many problems would be solved if moms would just spend 2 hours batch-making homemade snacks for their kids each week.

I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed this hard.
I organized coffee and donuts and coloring pages for the Honors Students, as well as snacks and games for the Humanities students and faculty. Both went well and I feel pretty darn hopeful right now.

So obviously I am making the right choice and going online.
My kid is watching Danny Go and playing with his giant drum sticks (aka pool noodle drum sticks). I just hollered from the kitchen “in the house we hit beats 2 & 4, not 1 & 3.”

For more reasons my kid will need therapy, keep following.
He’s also already very concerned about the fact that the letter “c” can sound like a “k” or and “s” and insists that I explain this to him.
My poor child. Every time he answers a question with “because,” I tell him it’s not an answer, it’s a subordinating conjunction and now you know why
this child will need therapy later.
I love these! I do a similar assignment every semester and students are always so creative and inventive.
If you don’t want me to be embarrassing, don’t play songs from my middle school dances at the coffee shop.
Very fair. Most of them also did not make their own dinners or wash their own laundry.

But still…
Teaching Philip Sidney in the survey course today. I always ALWAYS forget that he was only 32 when he died. He’s one of those literary figures who makes me say “I really need to get back to my writing. This poet managed ALL THAT so young.”
I should not be allowed unsupervised in any store that has Halloween-themed baking ingredients.
I know it is still 80 degrees here. It is the last day of September and therefore it is soup season and I had corn chowder for lunch and I am a very happy campus for the next 10 minutes.
And it’s not just a fear of sticking out or being different (I remember that feeling. I went to middle school). It’s anger that other people/things/ideas don’t conform.

What a way to spend life.
Been thinking a lot about this idea lately: what is life like for people who are so fearful of difference? For people who believe that everything and everyone must conform?

I think this is a central thread that runs through a whole lot of conversations lately.
So that was an experience I hadn’t yet had, but our campus was locked down today. No threat directly to campus, but still rather nerve-rattling.

The fact that this is America hurts my heart so much. This is far, far too routine.
I am a confirmed cat person. I have lived with 5 different cats in my lifetime.

Part of being a parent is accepting your children as themselves.

Please note that my son has declared himself a dog person this week.
I am at the “waking up in the middle of the night thinking about that time in 1995 when the band director yelled at me in front of everyone” level of anxiety.

How are you?
Got an email today that says “give your lesson plans a glow-up” and you know what? No, no I do not want to do that, thank you.
I’ve been terrified for my colleagues, my students, and members of my community.

I am now starting to feel that terror for myself, especially because I question whether or not the community I live in will give a shit.
I was called unamerican today.

I don’t generally pull out this piece of info, but: some of my ancestors have been in this country since at least 1750. I have ancestors who fought in the revolutionary war. Back the f off when you want to question whether or not I’m worthy of living in my country.