In eats. life.

"The Steak" Valentine's Day 2018



There is a lot of value in tradition. This is doubly true when you find yourself in a new surroundings. Annie has been working a lot lately with very few days off (except the 3 days we spent hospital/couch bound thanks to her appendix) and honestly it's been really hard on both of us emotionally. It's so much harder than expected being in a spot with no long-term friends, while social media allows us to watch all of our friends from past lives go on without us there. Everyone is new, and though we've surrounded ourselves with some great people since moving here, it just hasn't been easy yet, if that makes sense.

In short, we've both been feeling  a bit homesick of late, so having traditions in our relationship that transcend geography has been critical. Traditions anchor us to what really matters. To each other. We have several of these throughout the year, but none has been as consistent as our Valentine's day tradition.

While parts of it have changed over the years - letters, records, apartment, etc., what has not changed is the meal. This year marks our 10th (yikes) Valentine's day together, 6 of which have involved good music, good wine, and a recipe we have dubbed THE steak. I'd like to share the story of that first experience, as well as a modified recipe for those of you who are interested in giving it a try.

It all started our senior year of college, we had been dating for 4 years, we were comfortable in our relationship, and didn't feel like we had to do any grand gestures or gifts as we had in past days. We'd made no plans until around 5pm and realized we wouldn't be able to get into a restaurant, so we'd have to opt for a plan B. I did some quick googling and stumbled on the recipe that we've based our last 6 V-day celebrations on - THE steak.

That first year was experimental - we had cooked, but were FAR from experienced. It may have been my first homemade sauce I ever made, it was the first time I'd ever oven baked a steak, and even Annie making mashed potatoes from scratch seemed daunting (we laugh every year now at how simple most of the recipe actually is…).


We picked up our supplies (what's thyme?, where do you buy port?, you mean the garlic isn't powder?) and got to work, with Pandora radio (is that still a thing?) playing in the background. After a good deal of fumbling, slicing, and prepping, it was all coming together.

 
The steak was in the oven, the sauce was beginning to meld, and I recall a very specific moment then that hit me pretty hard. I believe John Green would refer to it as feeling 'infinite', Maslow may have referred to it as a peak experience of self-actualization, Thomas Moore may've thought of it as a second revelation. Norah Jones' come away with me was playing, the smell of garlic-thyme port wine sauce wafted into my nostrils, and Annie leaned on the counter next to me drinking a glass of wine with a look of absolute content on her face. It was an almost out of body experience. I found myself imagining our future together, realizing that this could be the rest of my life if I chose it.

I saw years down the road standing in a nicer apartment than where we stood, or our own home, cooking a similar meal, with the same smells, and the same girl by my side. I came to teary eyed and couldn't help but smile like a little kid for the rest of the night. I think part of my excitement ever year is the hope of re-creating that feeling.

Last night we completed our 6th attempt at THE steak. Things have changed, but the core of the tradition remains the same: Norah Jones plays, but now on vinyl. The steak is a nicer cut, typically bought from a butcher or Whole Foods. The recipe has been modified, but the flavors are all still there, now enhanced.

I think that last night reminded us that it doesn't really matter where we live. It doesn't matter who we're surrounded with. Those are all secondary pleasures to the core of our life together. Because while the location, the friends, and our schedules drastically change, our love remains the same. 10 years in, 6 rounds of steak. Much like our love, it's gotten better every year. Here's to 50+ more years of tradition.


 Recipe - THE Steak

We base our recipe off of this post

Here's how I've come to tweak it.
- We use ribeye rather than filet. We've tried both, but preferred a high quality, well-marbled ribeye over filet. The fat and the blue cheese and the panko all work SO well together.
- We typically buy 1 large steak and split it rather than eating ourselves into a coma. Annie also always makes a dessert (dark chocolate mousse this year - yum)
- I like to reverse sear the steak rather than the sear/bake technique they use. Bake for 40 minutes or so  at 275 (check steak with a meat thermometer - should be about 115 degrees for medium rare) then cast iron skillet sear it for 30 seconds on each side, then proceed to broiling blue cheese/panko on top
- you can cut the blue cheese/panko in half - it always makes too much
-  find a good mashed potato recipe for the base - we like this one from Pioneer Woman, but it takes a bit of work and advance prep

Let us know if you try it out!

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In life. manhood.

Lent 2018: Joy and/In Sacrifice


Today is the first day of the Catholic season of Lent - the 40 days leading up to Easter - which are typically filled with different types of self-sacrifice. As a child, I was always confused why Lent was such a big deal in the Catholic Church. It seemed to me that the truly celebratory days were Easter - Christ's resurrection from the dead, and Christmas - the birth of Christ. These were joyous days, victorious days. If we really believed Christ has come, Christ is risen, Christ will come again, then it seemed to me that that mantra was pretty perfectly summed up between the joyful holidays of Christmas and Easter.

On the other hand - Lent, and really all of Holy Week leading up to Easter, was hard. It's a lot of church. A lot of sacrifice. And a lot of dark, sullen music. I couldn't see how being asked to make sacrifices - to fast, to give up meat on Fridays - could be the pinnacle of anything, much less the holiest days of the year.

But as I've aged I've come to realize why we see Lent as such a Holy Time. That realization really came not through study of Catholic teaching, but through observation of other religions. If you look specifically at the original three Abrahamic religions - Judaism, Islam, and Catholicism, there is a critical common thread that they share when it comes to observing the Holiest time of the year: Sacrifice. Muslims celebrate the holy month, Ramadan, by fasting entirely from dawn until dusk to celebrate the revelation of the Qu'ran. Jews celebrate Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, with a 25 hour fast. Catholics celebrate Lent, the period leading up to Easter, with fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, plus additional sacrifices of our own choosing. Sacrifice, not celebration, is what we choose to commemorate our holiest of days. That is not to be looked over lightly.

I think this tells us a lot about faith, life, and happiness in general. When it all comes down to it - life (and religion) -  are not about the pinnacle experiences, the mountain, the highlights and the celebrations. Religion and life are defined by sacrifice and self-discipline - the struggle, the valley, the conflict points of growth.
 
This is hard for us. We live in a culture of self-service and immediate gratification. We have at our fingertips every piece of information and any good or service we could ever want almost instantaneously. There are a plethora of benefits to this. But with it also comes a lack of struggle that previous generations grew accustomed to. As a society we expect immediate satisfaction and joy, and we base our happiness on how it makes us feel in the immediate moment.

But that immediate satisfaction doesn't last. It's fleeting. It doesn't bring us the lasting joy that we truly seek. That's because life isn't about self-gratification. Life, when you really boil it down, is about sacrifice and discipline - it is only in training ourselves to put off immediate gratification to work towards a higher purpose that we can achieve a lasting joy and satisfaction.

This has many names - intrinsic motivation, grit, self-discipline. Call it whatever you want - but they are all sacrificing immediate satisfaction for a greater goal or purpose. And according to the famous Stanford Marshmallow test, not only does that lead to higher reported happiness later in life, it also leads to healthier, more successful lives.

As a way to further prove this conjecture - I challenge you to think about the pinnacle experiences of your life. The moments you were happiest, or ecstatic, or celebratory - and ask yourself where the joy truly came from… I'd be willing to bet that most of these experiences are actually the culmination of a difficult experience of sacrifice rather than a single joyous event. The highlights of my career come through letters from students, thank-you notes form parents, and lightbulb instances for students who were struggling. But those peak moments of joy in my career weren't really a celebration of a single instance - they were a joyful celebration of months or years of hard work and sacrifice on my and the student's part.

But these moments of joy at the end of sacrifice can often be misleading. Because sacrifice isn't always about the end of the road. It's about finding joy in the experience of sacrifice itself. Teaching has its moment of absolute and total frustration - low moments where you feel totally burnt out and don't feel like you can sacrifice anything more. Any teacher who tells you otherwise is lying to you, or not trying hard enough. But what faith does for us is it allows us to take joy in those moments as well as the highs.

Going to weekly mass is not a highlight of the week for me, many weeks it only brings frustration or annoyance at giving up valuable time from my weekend. But I've come to take joy in the spiritual grit necessary to make it to church every week, even if I don't take anything away from it that day.

Waking up at 4:45 3-4 days a week to work out is awful most days. And though the end result of 2 years on this path has led to great results, the real joy that I find comes in the repetition. The discipline necessary to keep getting up and working hard. The goal is good - but the journey can itself be a source of joy. It is difficult to see that in a culture of self-serving immediate gratification. 

So my challenge for you all this Lent, and for myself, is to embrace the sacrifice. Embrace the grind. Find joy in struggle. It may be the only common thread connecting human existence. I think that's why it's such an integral part of the religious experience, and why we celebrate our holiest time of the year, not with celebrations and festivals, but with sacrifice.

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In life.

When I became a patient.


Another rotation down (cardiology), and I'm starting to see the light at the end of the deep, dark tunnel that has been intern year. Though to be totally honest, I can't complain that much - it's been a pretty nice compared to some of my friends from med school. My last stretch of rotations have few to no "golden weekends" off and vacation is fairly far off in the distance.

That being said: my body (and bowels) decided to have different plans for me. During work the other day I had some serious belly pain. I'm usually pretty good at dealing with belly pain (I would argue that I have irritable bowel syndrome) so I tried to push through it. My hypochondriac/I-know-too-much side was self-diagnosing with all kinds of things. I even had my friends consult and examine me. My doctor side that grows frustrated with convincing patients nothing is wrong with them and that they should go home was fighting feeling sick and just wanting to get back to work. I ultimately asked some of my family and was convinced to go to the ED.

Long story short: appendicitis happened. I spent 2 nights in the hospital and am now one vestigial organ less. This is a laughable occurrence to me as it's been less than a year since I broke my ankle. Broken bones and appendicitis are common childhood ailments, and here I am 26 years old faux-adulting, trying to be a doctor instead ending up as the patient.

While I missed out on some time at work, I do actually think this little experience has been a very educational milestone during residency (ironically). Here are some things that I've learned:

  1. While health care providers are running around busy in the ED, on the floors, in the OR etc. it doesn't seem like our patients are waiting very long for things to happen. From a patient's perspective - it does actually feel like forever. Friday morning we decided I needed surgery, but I didn't have a specific time. Knowing my experience with frustrated patients, I was happy to wait, but that's not to say it wasn't a very long day of boring, somewhat painful waiting. 
  2. Being attached to an IV pole is miserable. I slept for maybe 2 hour stretches because I had to wake up and mess with the settings on my IV pump to get it to shut up. Dragging it to the bathroom is less than convenient (and I was going often since they were pumping me full of fluids). And none of this accounts for how I couldn't bend my elbow the whole night because of where my IV was placed. 
  3. IV contrast feels super weird. This is basically a dye that they put in your veins before you have a CT scan. It makes you feel all warm all over. They warned me even, "you'll feel like you peed your pants". I laughed. They were not lying...
  4. Similarly - and this and #3 are both more for my fellow friends in medicine - subcutaneous heparin hurts. A lot. Not only is someone coming at you with a needle, which I can handle, but you have a residual burning that lasts for a pretty extensive period of time. 
  5. I very ironically freaked out when waking up from anesthesia. Surgical pain is real, and I am still slightly disappointed at my pain intolerance considering how "small" my surgery was. I didn't think I would be the person confused, panicking, crying, and asking for pain meds in the PACU. Hoping my anesthesia colleagues didn't judge me too much, ha. 
Being a patient is hard. Thankfully there are countless doctors, nurses, etc who do their best to make the patient experience a little less miserable than it has to be when you're sick in the hospital. Even more, I am so thankful for supportive friends, family, residency program faculty, and especially Parker who all took so much time to take care of me.

Special shout out to the people who covered for me at work! Having amazing team members in this tough doctor world we live and work in is everything. 

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In manhood.

Women's March: A Man's Role


A year ago today I stood on the Whitehouse lawn in Washington D.C., surrounded by pink hats and the hundreds of thousands of women there to take a political stand. Out of everything in our 4 day school-sponsored trip to D.C., that moment was the pinnacle for me. A government teacher surrounded by true democracy. Not the textbook version: the buildings, the transfer of power, the ceremony, etc. This was real democracy. A nation not afraid to let our voices be heard. The rallying cry 'This is what Democracy looks like' had never been more true. As I stood on the lawn between the seat of power for our nation and the Washington monument I couldn't help but feel something that I hadn't felt throughout much of 2016… Hope.

Even amidst the political climate, 2017 was quite possibly the single most empowering year for women in world history. This has been so exciting for me to watch - to imagine a world where a future daughter can live equally to any man, a world where my wife is rightfully assumed to be a doctor for once when people see her in scrubs, a world where women don’t have to disproportionately live in fear of violence. But outside of my 2-3 hours spent at the March last year, I've often struggled with what my role is in this, or even if I should have a role. It makes sense to me that what might be best would be for me to step back and allow women to have this moment, that creating space for others might be my best move. But I can't help but think that men have a critical role to play in this movement as well.

In reflecting on this over the past year, I argue that we as men do have a role to play, and it's a lot simpler than you might think.

My role as a man - our role as men - is about redefining what we've been told that it is to be a man. For too long we've defined masculinity in terms of power. But in reality masculinity has nothing to do with power. True masculinity is about empowerment.

Instead of defining our success as a man by our own victories -  by power, strength, and respect - let's look at the strongest man as he who creates space for others to thrive. A man who adds value to others - who empowers others, rather than taking power himself.

It is undoubtable that some will argue that asking men to go against their nature is destructive to himself and others. But I'm not arguing to remove what have historically been male societal functions. I'd even say that we can redefine manhood within the historical constructs of manliness. I'm simply suggesting that we challenge what true meaning of the two historic components of manhood: 1.) to protect and 2.) to provide.

To Protect

If we are meant to protect those we love - the women, children, and even other men in our lives, then let's really take a deep dive into how we can do that. Physically protecting those around us is one thing.  Valuing the ability to physically protect those you love is not to be looked down upon. But it's shortsighted. It's placing a band-aid on a cracking dam, treating the symptoms instead of the disease. The largest impact we can make as men is working to create a culture that is safer for all people. That starts with how we teach our young men to view strength.

Strength is a core component of masculinity - Physical strength, Emotional strength. The ability to weather physical or emotional blows without showing signs of weakness. Rigidity is the gold standard for men. We're inundated by it every day - by the advertising industry, by our peers, by older generations. And this isn't just misleading… it's emotionally harmful. This becomes abundantly clear in one statistic: 90% of homicides are committed by males… I'll say that again - 90% of all homicides in America are committed by men… In America's gun culture women have just as much access to fire arms and weaponry as we do. So why do they resort so rarely to violence?... Because that's not the cultural norm…

Fathers and Mothers don't teach their little girls that it's not ok to cry, that they have to stand up for themselves, that they have to fight back. They teach them to talk to someone, a teacher, or an adult, and in times of conflict girls are met with a soothing touch and comfort. On the flipside, Boys are taught to emotionally harden, to handle the issue ourselves, typically by standing up for ourselves and fighting back if necessary.

By associating an emotional void with masculinity while dissociating feeling, we've created an entire culture of men terrified to turn to others when they hurt, men and boys who simply don’t know how to properly handle conflict and trauma without resorting to frustration, anger, and often violence - men who think only physically and never emotionally. This isn't biology - it's society.

This lifelong practice of physical expression but never emotional expression is at the very core of our current rape culture. Men don’t understand consent and sexual harassment because from age 4 the only way to express their desires is physically. If we want to be an ally in the #metoo movement, we'll do a lot more long term good by raising sons who can express themselves emotionally than we will by telling daughters not to walk home alone.

My task in the classroom over the last year has been to be a model of this for my young men. When something makes me emotional - I lean into it. I talk about it. I allow myself to cry in front of my classes, I ask hard questions about the role of human emotion in history. We spend more time trying to understand perspective than we do events. It's a small thing, but I'm doing what I can to be a part of a better tomorrow.

So yes. We are men. We are still protectors. But we do not have to be steel to protect those we love. Water, in all of its fluidity and adaptability, has throughout most of human history made for the strongest defense. We as men do more for those we love by modeling emotional vulnerability than we can possibly do by making ourselves emotionally rigid.

To Provide:

If protection of the ones we love has historically been our primary purpose as men, then a small step below that exists the need to provide. To create a life of joy and ease for those that we love. But to provide is a wide and malleable concept that we've misguidedly pigeonholed into one meaning: financial support.

Each year while teaching I try to spend at least one week talking about long term goals, life-skills, and leadership development. In goal setting there was a line I heard more often than I would've liked to from young men: I want to work hard enough that the rest of my family won't have to.

I couldn't help but internally cringe every time I heard that line for two reasons. Because that narrow definition of being a provider is 1.) the root of so much of my own cognitive dissonance, and 2.) in my opinion the root of our current pay imbalance in the workplace.

I am a male high school teacher who does not coach. I spend my life constantly fighting the internal fears that other men will look down on that. My wife is a medical doctor, currently a resident, who will one day be our family's key financial provider. I've never been able to really shake the feeling that in some way this makes me less of a man. But in truth, what do our loved ones and family really want us to provide?

My own father was, yes, the primary financial provider for the family, but I don’t think back on my childhood with grateful memories for the house we lived in or the Christmas presents we received, or even the private schools we were sent to. I look back and am truly most appreciative for the time he provided our family, and the space he gave each of us to find ourselves. It was coaching my youth baseball teams, yet telling me it's O.K. to quit if it was something that was causing me so much frustration. It was the example Dad provided in coming home from work and cooking for us multiple days of the week. It was the weeknights he spent with my sister and me while my mom took graduate-level classes. Those are the greatest things he really provided for us.

As men, we get so caught up in providing for the financial needs of our families, we miss out on the chances to provide something far greater - permission and acceptance. My role as provider for my wife has, in a small way, meant finances over the past few years. But more importantly it's meant radical permission. I provided Annie my blessing to aggressively pursue her career, even if that means moving 10 hours from home. I provide Annie support when she comes home from a 28 hour shift and just wants to eat and go to bed. And I provide the freedom to have children at our own pace with the knowledge that I will be doing my fair and equal part in the process.

The gender wage gap can be re-defined, misconstrued, and interpreted in umpteen different ways. But the way I see it is simple. If we as men want to be allies in this shift it doesn't start by holding signs or even taking cuts in our own salaries. It starts with providing an equal share of the work in raising children. Providing the permission to other men to take as much time as they need in raising their child instead of shaming them for taking paternity leave. Doing so ultimately provides women the freedom to, if they choose, take less time off from work, doing away with what I'd argue is the single largest driver of the wage gap.

So yes, we are men. We are providers. But are we really providing what those we care about truly need? Provide by being an ally. Empower the women in your life by providing the necessary assistance in their journey to success and fulfillment.

   

So let's start this conversation - let's be allies in this movement by focusing inward. Let's change the narrative around what it means to be a man - to protect and provide. By talking about emotional and physical masculinity with boys and young men we can create a healthier world for men and combat the roots of rape culture. By changing how we look at providing, we make space for the women in our lives to succeed, we enrich our relationships, and provide for the true needs of our loved ones.

So here's to getting out there and doing our part. So that years from now the Women's March won't be necessary as a protest, but will exist only as a celebration of equality.

Links to further reading/viewing on this topic:

disclaimer: all photos taken by me, if for any reason individuals would like their photo taken down, please contact me and I will gladly do so.

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In life.

Literature Reflection 2017: A look back at the books I read in 2017



At the start of every year I set reading goals. For 2017 My goals were this: 6 works of fiction, 1 historical biography, and 1 other non-fiction.  8 total books. It was my assumption that in a year of celebrating the end of Annie's time in medical school, a summer of moving, and finding a new teaching job, I wouldn't have as much time to read as I might like… So I settled on 8.

1 year later and my number ended up a bit higher… Counting audio books ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ my total this year was 20. 11 works of fiction (one a re-read), 6 works of non-fiction (including 2 biographies), and 3 audio books (great for driving back and forth to North Carolina.)

In the interest of sharing this year's crop of winners, I put together a quick blurb about each one of them, including a quick gut-feeling rating system between 1-10.

As I went back and looked at my notes I remembered some of these very fondly, and others I recall the waste of time that they were. But books, like life, aren't always what you want them to be - that's part of the joy. They can surprise you or disappoint you, inspire you or leave you in the dumps. But just like life, you know in the end you'll always end up coming back for more.

So here's to a great year of reading, and hopefully an even better one in 2018.

FICTION
Blake Crouch - Dark matter - 9.5/10
  • My favorite of the summer. Nothing flashy about it, this was just a brilliant concept done with impressive storytelling prowess. You will finish this book in 1-2 days. It is that good. You will not be able to put it down. Superposition and Infinite realities make this science fiction work one that I couldn't stop thinking about. Hell I'm still thinking about it.

Donna Tartt - The Goldfinch - 9/10
  • Clocking in at 784 pages, this one took me a while to get through, but I promise you it was worth it. Just going back to read a few of my favorite excerpts from the book had me a bit misty eyed remembering how beautifully Tartt wields the English Language. At times unnecessarily lengthy, she makes it completely worth it with the occasional line that completely takes your breath away, like this one that still occasionally stops me in my tracks. 
  • "And just as music is the space between notes, just as the stars are beautiful because of the space between them, just as the sun strikes raindrops at a certain angle and throws a prism of color across the sky - so the space where I exist, and I want to keep existing, and to be quite frank I hope I die in, is exactly this middle distance: where despair struck pure otherness and created something sublime."

George Saunders - Lincoln in the Bardo - 8/10
  • Told as a dialogue between over 100 different characters, mostly ghosts, the magnitude of work put in to each character astounded me here. One of my absolute favorites of the year. A quick read, I knocked the whole thing out on a day of traveling to Mexico. The story itself is interesting, though not gripping (Abraham Lincoln entering the graveyard to visit his recently deceased son). But the depth of emotion and the reality of human nature addressed via the ghosts' journeys to accepting their own mortality had me teary-eyed and feeling on a flight full of strangers.

Fredrik Backman - Beartown - 8/10
  • This felt like someone took one of my old childhood sports novels and turned it in to an adult version just for me. A small town Canadian hockey team isn't the type of book I would usually pick up, but something about it called to me, and I'm glad it did. One of the key characters in the work, Benji, was probably my favorite of any I've read this year.

Jonathan Franzen - Freedom - 8/10
  • This one came as a recommendation, and another lengthy piece, it is worth it for different reasons than the Goldfinch. While the Goldfinch spoke at times of a depression and despair that I couldn't understand, Freedom was one of those books where you can somehow see yourself in every single character in the book. It was as if every character represented some stage of my life, or someone in my life presently. It also gave me this stanza, which perfectly summarizes my own experiences with attention and compliments.
  • "she believed that it was because she was selflessly team-spirited that direct personal compliments made her so uncomfortable. The autobiographer now thinks that compliments were like a beverage she was unconsciously smart enough to deny herself even one drop of, because her thirst for them was infinite."


Matthew Quick - The Reason You're Alive - 7.5/10
  • NC Book Club Book #4 - From the author of Silver Linings Playbook. I Knocked this out in a few days on Christmas Break. If Hillbilly Elogy is necessary non-fiction to understand the psyche of our current populist right wing, then The Reason You're Alive is its fictional counterpart. This is a quick read, 200 pages, spent in the head of a vietnam war veteran watching the world change around him and seemingly forgetting him. A dynamite read for our current political and social climate.
Colson Whitehead - Underground Railroad - 7/10
  • Great fiction read for any fan of American History. Whitehead takes the history of black America and weaves it beautifully and at times heartbreaking-ly into a single slave narrative. The twist of an actual freedom railroad operating underground made for fascinating imagery.

J.K. Rowling - Cursed Child - 5/10
  • Not sure why I hadn't read it yet - I picked it up around the 20 year anniversary and knocked it out in 2 days. Of course it lacked the magic of the originals and the screenplay format made it annoying at times, but it answered a lot of questions about Time Turners that I'd spent way too much time debating in my lifetime. If you haven't read it yet and you're, like me, a Potter nerd - it's worth it mostly due to the little time you'll have to put into it..

Dennis LeHane - Since we Fell - 4/10
  • Not great, not bad. An interesting read that was meant to keep you hooked from the get-go, it kept me intrigued enough to finish, but the story itself wasn't the most believable and only one character was properly developed. Don't recommend, but it's far from wasted time.

Paula Hawkins - Into the Water - 3/10
  • Maybe it's because I audio-booked Girl on the Train that I enjoyed it so much, but I was anything but impressed by Hawkin's second novel. Predictable throughout and the story seemed at times just a re-write of Girl on the Train. My fear after reading this is that Hawkins will be adopting the model of Grisham, Cussler or Child: Books that will never let you down if you know what you're looking for, because they're all pretty much the same thing in different iterations.

NON-FICTION

Paul Kalanithi - When Breath Becomes Air - 9.5/10
  • I can't remember a book that made me feel like this since I finished the 7th Harry Potter in 2007. I'm talking Where the Red Fern Grows level heartbreak. Paul Kalanithi was finishing his residency in Neurosurgery when he was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. This was his attempt to chronicle his life and experience. What he ended up doing was reshaping my view on humanity, on religion, on human nature. Kalanithi was initially a philosophy and English literature student before switching to medicine, so this book reads more like a humanist manifesto than the story of a dying neurosurgeon. This book is not easily forgettable.

Ta Nehisi Coates - Between the World and Me - 8/10
  • As a white man this was the most challenging book I picked up this year, but I would argue it could also be the most important. You don't have to agree with Coates or with his view of the world. You can even vehemently disagree with it. But reading this is important because you should try to understand it. To empathize with it. Even if you don't agree with Coates you can feel the fear and the hurt he has in this series of letters written to his teenage son. In our current racial climate this should be required reading if only for the discussion it provokes.

Lost City of Z - 7/10
  • Recently made into a movie, this has proven to me one thing: I never want to explore the Amazon… Colonel Fawcett, a famous British Explorer with the Royal Geographic Society, famously disappeared along with his son and son's best friend while searching for El Dorado, or as he called it, Z. Similar to Splendid Savage, this book chronicles the life of a man who never seemed content. The world needs men like this, but I'm pleased that I do not happen to be one, as Fawcett's life, and his family's, were made difficult in many ways by his obsessions with the Amazon. Probably the best historical NF work I've read since Devil in the White City.

A Splendid Savage 7/10
  • My first North Carolina book club read - A historical biography of Frederick Russel Burnham. A scout, a prospector, an explorer, Burnham lived an unbelievably fascinating life. For a history teacher I usually don't read a ton of biographies, as they typically end up taking me a year to get through, but this one held my attention. One of the most fascinating characters I've ever read of.

Hope in the Dark - 5/10
  • At some point this summer I needed something positive to pull me out of the hole of reading the news and realizing nothing was going to change. That the world we were living in was the new normal. This series of essays written almost 10 years ago was an enlightening view of how activism really works. We expect movements or protests or boycotts to be immediately successful, but they rarely are. Instead change, like most else in life, comes gradually and often comes with steps in the wrong direction. But progress, in the end, always wins out.
  • "To hope is to give yourself to the future, and that commitment to the future makes the present inhabitable."

Enough - 5/10
  • John C. Bogle, founder of Vanguard Investments, in writing about the ideal way to handle our personal finances, ended up penning the perfect explanation of why our financial systems crashed in 2008 and why it will undoubtedly happen again. Too much speculation, not enough investment. Our financial system values speculation and hitting it big (see, Bitcoin), but no one values long-term investment anymore. A short-read, It's a great one to slowly work your way through so you have time to digest it all.

RE-READ

Madeline L'Engle - A Wrinkle in Time
  • Childhood classic - had to give it a read to prep for the upcoming Disney remake!

AUDIOBOOK

(I just don't invest into audiobooks quite the same way I do into physical books, so in fairness to these books, I'll just list them below)

  • Stephen King - 12.22.63
  • Ben Winters - The Last Policeman
  •  Paula Hawkins - Girl on the Train

NOW READING

Everything that Remains - a Memoir by the Minimalists 
Ron Chernow - Grant 

Anything you read this year that you think I should pick up? Comment or shoot me a message! I am always in the hunt for a good book, and my list is rapidly expanding.  

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In life.

My top 10 from 2017.



Shown above: real life picture of me wanting to be a doctor circa 2004. The interesting thing is that my real life white coat and scrubs look this baggy still...

As we wrap up 2017, I feel compelled to summarize this year as we've had just an enormous amount of change happen in our lives. I told Parker, too, that 2017 is a very significant year for me. No, it wasn't the fact that we moved to another state after having lived my entire life in Kentucky. It wasn't the fact that this was the first year I started earning a real paycheck.

Being the insane, neurotic planner that I am, I had a life plan for myself. Not like a stereotypical life plan of being married by the time I was 25 or something. I had taken the time to calculate all the years of school required to finally reach my pinnacle of personal achievement: becoming a doctor (I could almost swear, too, that I said anesthesiologist at the time but I can't be sure). My earliest memory of this moment was maybe 6th grade. I'm sure I was talking to Kirsten about this as we were excited about starting "junior high" (LOL) and how we couldn't believe we were going to leave Holy Name after 8th grade in 2005. Next would come high school graduation in 2009. College in 2013. Then med school graduation by 2017. Then I would be a doctor. Done. That's all, folks! Legitimately, I planned my life up until a few days from now, and then I will be entering (what I consider) unchartered territory. Yikes.

So, let's revisit some highlights from this last year in my pre-written, premeditated state of life:

  1. Time spent hanging in an Eno with some of your best friends is highly undervalued.
  2. Also undervalued: having two usable legs.
  3. It's surprisingly okay to let your future be determined by a computer algorithm.
  4. That said, there is nothing more exhilarating than opening an envelope that suddenly determines your future.
  5. Moving to a new state is hard. Knowing no one and having to make new friends is even harder.
  6. Speaking of moving, packing up even the tiniest apartment is really hard (especially with only one usable leg). The feeling of throwing away old things is so rewarding, though.
  7. I've not experienced anything more scary or difficult than being (essentially) alone in the hospital responsible for 90+ patients. I've also never experienced anything so rewarding to drive home the next morning knowing no one died or got hurt under my watch.
  8. Birthdays in residency mean kind friends who aren't even working bring you cakes to the hospital because you're on call. They also mean someone brings you a hot cocoa at 3am in the burn unit because you're swamped, and they only stay briefly because you have to finish filling out a death certificate. They also need to leave quickly because they, too, have a death certificate to complete.
  9. Sometimes choosing spending time with people you love can be even more energizing than an extra few hours of sleep - even during an 80 hour work week.
  10. Life is extra sweet when things go according to plan. But there are enough Hallmark Christmas movies out there to teach everyone the obvious lesson that that's not how things tend to pan out.


Cheers to 2017, everyone. Here's to seeing what 2018 will bring!

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

In life.

A Tribute to Tony Kraus: Three Key Lessons his Life Teaches us


A former student reached out to me a few weeks ago to ask for advice. He told me that he had dropped his finance major and switched into the college of education to prepare for a career teaching social studies. My heart, of course, swelled, and it had me reminiscing on the events that led me to drop my pre-law focus and become a high school teacher. Having a mother in education was a start, the fact that all of my extra-curriculars were focused on mentoring, tutoring, or leadership development was another factor, and Annie naturally,  who constantly encouraged me to ignore societal pressures and pursue what I really wanted to do. But even with all of these factors, I kept coming back to one event - one conversation…

My career as I know it today, many of the facets that I define myself by: a teacher, educator, mentor - may not have been possible without Tony Kraus.

I'm writing this now because 3 weeks ago Mr. Kraus lost his battle with lung cancer. I watched on social media as his students, current and former, poured out their hearts remembering his impacts at Owensboro Catholic High School. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out how much this man impacted me in just a Facebook post, so I wanted to take the time to sit down and really get my thoughts out. In reflecting on the life and impacts of Tony Kraus, I came up with three key lessons that he taught me. And I believe (you will soon read why) he would've wanted me to share these with the world.

1.) Tell your story.

I am a teacher because of one conversation I had with Mr. Kraus my senior year of high school. With one conversation, he planted a seed that would later bloom into a calling. With only one story he provided the light I needed to illuminate what I was meant to do. But he didn't just tell me and the other students in the room a story, he told us his story.

Mr. Kraus was not a life-long teacher. In fact, he started his 13 year career at OCHS one year before my freshman year - when he was 37. Like most students, I never questioned this, as the life-experiences of my educators was the furthest thing from my mind when I was 15 years old. But Mr. Kraus opened himself up to a group of senior boys in 2008. He told us about how he had worked in the banking industry for 10 years; he talked about his six figure salary, and what it was like to be seen as so successful at such a young age. But he also told us about the hole he felt in his heart - and the fateful conversation he had with a group of friends that prompted him to quit his job, re-enroll in a teaching program in his 30s, and go teach religion at a private school making 1/4 the salary of his previous life. And he told us there was no greater decision (outside of marrying his wife) he'd ever made.

In that simple act - speaking his truth - he unconsciously lit a spark in me that left me thinking what if for years to come. In putting himself out there he gave us all the unspoken permission to do the same. His life was a reminder to be your authentic, vulnerable self - and take any chance you get to share that with others - because you never know who needs to hear it.

2.) Live the life you have imagined - but make sure it's you who's imagining it

Henry David Thoreau wrote those words over 150 years ago - "Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined." Tony Kraus showed me two things about that statement: First, that you can always reinvent yourself. That you are not trapped in whatever life you currently have. There is always a chance for you to go after the life you've dreamed of.

Secondly, and possibly more importantly, is that you can't always trust the you in the life you have imagined.

Mr. Kraus lived the first half of his life searching for what he had believed was the life: the money, the status, the job. He achieved all of it through his own efforts, but he came to realize that the life he imagined was actually a life that others had imagined for him. It's so easy to get caught up in the cultural and societal definitions of success, to define our own success by what others expect of us. We allow the demands of life and society define our standards instead of crafting our own based on what really matters. Which leads me to his third, and most critical lesson.

3.) We were put on this earth to serve others

This is my third takeaway, but ultimately it is the single most identifiable character trait of Tony Kraus - servant. It was, to him, the true meaning of life. In everything he did Mr. Kraus put himself last. Tirelessly dedicated to his students, his family, and his community, Mr. Kraus was someone I could count on to exclaim 'Parker Whitehouse, how the heck are ya?!' , and really mean it. He was genuinely interested in the lives of his students. Teaching for him was a natural extension of his desire to serve and a lesson for all of us in how we define the purpose of our lives.

In his decision to teach, Tony Kraus teaches all of us that our lives are not defined by our victories, successes, or achievements. That our purpose in life is not self-gratification or -fulfillment. We are here to serve others. Mr. Kraus revealed through his life the catch 22 of the happiness pursuit in which American society has us trapped. We spend our lives seeking fulfillment and joy in the world - looking for what the world can do for us - but never asking what we can do for the world. The catch here is that we will never find happiness by seeking it. We will never be satisfied looking for it. It finds us only through our relationships and our service to others.


Though Tony Kraus has moved on to a far greater place than this world, his impact on it will continue to be felt as long as his lessons are still held by his students and colleagues. Every student I've worked with is impacted by him. Every lesson I teach happens in part because of him. I, and many others, will continue to pass on those lessons he lived every day. He taught us to be bold by telling us his story. He showed all of us that in seeking the life we dream of, we can be misled, but through faith and works we can reinvent ourselves to the person we are meant to be. And ultimately he gave us his greatest gift through the example of his life - purpose. We are here for a reason. We are here to serve.   

With that in mind I cannot imagine a more fitting end to his life than those words he most assuredly heard - 'Well done, oh good and faithful servant.'

Read More

Share Tweet Pin It +1

0 Comments

Powered by Blogger.