© Catherine Haslag

Conservation Laws

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There are many conservation laws that govern how the universe works.  I teach two of these laws in my chemistry classes.

The first is the Law of Conservation of Matter, which states that matter cannot be created or destroyed. Atoms can rearrange to make new compounds, but the amount of matter you start with will equal the amount of matter you end with.

The second is the Law of Conservation of Energy, which states that energy cannot be created or destroyed. Energy can convert from one type to another (kinetic energy to potential energy or mechanical energy to electrical energy). Still, the amount of energy you start with will equal the amount of energy you end with.

These laws mean that you can never create more than you started with.
Business pushes the concept “do more with less.” However, since you can’t end with more than you started with based on the Laws of Conservation of Matter and Energy, it is impossible to do more with less.

This example is one of the many reasons a basic understanding of science is essential – it allows you to understand when someone is peddling bullshit, so you know not to buy it.

© Catherine Haslag

The Tree

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© Catherine Haslag

Jumper Cables

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During my senior year of high school, I got my first car – a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta Royale in toad green. We called it The Toad. It was a hand-me-down from my Uncle Jerry. It was a boat, but it got me where I needed to go. This car offered several amenities to 18-year-old Catherine:

  • bench seats in the front and back,
  • a heater that could bake a turkey on defrost,
  • a trunk that could carry numerous bodies (if necessary), and
  • one of those old radios with the big silver buttons you had to jam in to make the station change.

Much to the horror of my stepfather, I could lay head-to-toe in the back seat, and neither my head nor feet would touch the doors. I was forbidden to take it on dates.

These jumper cables got me a parking spot and to class on time.

My Uncle Dick gave me some equipment for Christmas that year that every car owner needs: jumper cables. These weren’t any run-of-the-mill set of jumper cables; they were 20-foot, heavy-duty jumper cables. At the time, they seemed like overkill. Wouldn’t 6 or 9-footers work just as well? Over time, I came to appreciate the wisdom of this gift.

I never lived more than a few blocks off campus when I was in college, but sometimes I still needed to take my care to campus. If you arrived after 9 am, it was hard to find a spot. It was common to see people driving through the lots, stalking a student who was headed back to their car. If you followed them and patiently waited, you would be rewarded with a parking space.

I often used this tactic to find a parking spot. One day, I saw a woman headed back to her car. I rolled down my window and asked where she was parked. She motioned towards her car. I followed her and waited patiently for her to pull out of her space. I waited and waited. Finally, she got out of her car and walked over to my window. She had left her lights on, and her battery was dead. I couldn’t pull in close to her car because the spaces all around her were occupied. All she had was a set of short jumper cables. However, I had my trusty 20-foot jumper cables. I pulled up behind her, took out my cables, and we had her car started in no time. When she left, I took her parking space. My 20-foot jumper cables got me a parking space, and I made it to class on time.

Those jumper cables have had a home in every car I’ve owned. Over the years, they jumped the vehicles of friends, strangers, and my own during a polar vortex in January 2019. There were piles of snow everywhere, the coldest wind I have ever felt beating on me, and I was parked nose-first into the space, but the cables still did their job. I never worry about reaching the battery because the cables are always long enough.

There are times when we need to be thrifty and times when it’s worth it to invest in a better quality item. So my advice is to always spend the extra money on a pair of heavy-duty, 20ft (or longer) jumper cables. You will not be disappointed.

© Catherine Haslag

Un

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I live life by the semester as a college teacher: fall, spring, and summer.

It’s generally an excellent rhythm for me. I have time and space to work on new ideas for my classes in the summer. This is important because it’s hard to work on new ideas for courses while teaching. Then, in the fall and spring, I put those ideas to use and focus on working with my students.

This fall was the first time I wasn’t giddy about going back to school. It wasn’t the usual fresh start I previously relished. Usually, I enjoy the buzz and energy of the new school year, but not this year. This August felt more like a trudge into the repetitive and mundane. I wasn’t starting as my usual, fresh from summer self.

This semester has been one of the hardest of my career. I see the exhaustion in my students and feel that same exhaustion in myself. So many mornings, I have said “Good morning” at the start of class and received silence in return. The students I see are shell-shocked and burned, even at 9am. This doesn’t bode well if they have later classes. It’s hard to keep students motivated when they are already running at less than half a tank. It’s even more complicated when your tank is low as well.

I know my students and I aren’t the only ones who feel the weight of it all. We are about to enter year 3 of a pandemic with no unified approach and no definite end in sight. Our country is divided as it has been for more than 150 years. Misinformation runs through the internet and cable wires like wildfire, adding to the mess. We went on as best we could with life as usual, but this is a time of the unusual, the uncertain, the unsettled, the uncomfortable, the unrest…this is a time of the un.

There is no semester rhythm in the time of the un.

Next week, I will give finals, figure grades, and make a game plan for the short break between the fall and spring semesters. This is a time to rest and prepare for the spring semester – when I will do my best to deal with the un of life…and hope my students will too.

Oscar

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His name was Oscar.

He lived at Westphalia Hills for some period of time that covered at least the end of November 2019 to the very beginning of December 2019. I don’t know exactly how long he was there, just that his stay overlapped with my uncle’s time there in hospice.

Photo obtained from Shutterstock.

I encountered Oscar every time I entered the complex. Oscar wanted someone to help him back into bed and he wasn’t shy asking for help to reach this goal.

His ONLY goal.

And he pursued it with single-minded dedication.

This was my only interaction with Oscar. He would politely ask me to help him back to his room. Then he wanted help getting into bed.

This wasn’t a dirty request. He wasn’t being inappropriate. He just wanted to be in his bed…and stay there.

The first time I went to find a nursing assistant to help him, I found out this was Oscar’s game. He roamed the building all day looking for someone to take him to his room and help him into bed. But the staff didn’t want him in bed. They wanted him out and active, even if his only activity was finding a way to get back into his bed.

You always knew where Oscar was. You either heard him asking for help (Oscar wasn’t a quiet guy) or someone yelling at him to get out of their room. Oscar often rolled into the rooms of other residents. I still remember the day he ended up in the room of a pair of ladies. You would think a fox had just gotten into the hen house based on the commotion that erupted.

I tell this story not to make fun of Oscar but rather to share the comic relief he provided to me and my family at this time. As we were watching my uncle take his final steps from this world, we had Oscar’s antics as a distraction. We shared stories about what he was up to each day and what trouble he caused. He provided levity during a very heavy time. Oscar will never know how he broke the tension of a very difficult time for us.

I don’t know who Oscar was before or after those three weeks, but I am grateful for the encounters we had.

I think of him often, smile, and hope he achieved his goal.