For the last few days, I have not been well. So it has been impossible for me to write posts. There have been perturbing events in my life and these have triggered a rather severe episode of fatigue. In 1976, I caught a flu from which I never fully recovered. It was the onset of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Most of the time, I can manage this limitation sufficiently to write blogs and, if not assigned an unreasonable workload, it did not prevent me from being a productive university teacher. However, I did not have much of a social life. There wasn’t enough time.
My students often told me that I was the only professor who realized my course was not the only course they took. Obviously, I was pacing myself, which turned out to be helpful to my students. I also prepared my classes long before I taught them so I would always be ready. Would that I could have made better use of the internet. During the years I taught, the internet was not what it has become.
I always taught at least one language course and invited students to do the exercises contained in their textbook so I could tell whether or not they had understood. I did not give them a grade for these exercises, because it was practice. All were corrected and returned the next time I saw them. It was useful feedback and a form of communication with each student. Students who did not understand received private tutoring.
Yesterday, I started writing a blog on “Cupid and Psyche,” a “digression” in Apuleius‘ Golden Ass, but I could not finish it. It will have to be more concise.
A friend is doing my income tax report. In a telephone conversation, he told me that Madame Marois, Quebec‘s Premier, was demanding that tax payers provide her government with a new tax for medical care and medication. Such a tax did not exist in Quebec a year ago and it does not exist outside Quebec. To my knowledge, no one was told about this new tax. In my case, it will amount to a minimum of $300.00.
How will persons living on welfare pay this amount of money? Their monthly income is $600.00 and barely pays the rent. As well, how will the disabled survive, particularly men? If a man is disabled but was married at some point in his life, his former wife receives half of his disability benefits. So, he must live on $300.00 a month. This decision was one of Madame Marois’ victories. She was then courting the feminists. Finally, what about the elderly many of whom are working well into their seventies and early eighties, if they can find employment.
The Economy: 2008 & its aftermath
In fact, what about me? My pension fund suffered because of George W. Bush’s totally useless wars and it is not growing, not in this economy. So my current income is a combination of Old Age Security benefits and what little money I withdraw from my pension fund. I can let it grow until I am seventy-one, which is what I must do if it is to provide me with a decent living when I am older. Fortunately, I own my apartment and have accumulated good furniture, pots and pans, dishes, kitchen gadgets, books. My income is therefore adequate, but…
From House to House
As you probably know, I have suffered from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, also called Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, since February 1976 when I had a flu which took away much of my energy. I could teach despite this illness, provided I was assigned a reasonable workload. However, the Chair of my department worked me out of my position by asking me to teach a new course: Animals in Literature, i.e. World Literature. I wish I could have said ‘no,’ but I couldn’t. He had lost his temper before causing me to faint and I was afraid it would happen again. Later, when I started feeling extremely tired, he would not allow me to leave the classroom and the results were catastrophic. I told that story in a post entitled From House to House, but I am trying not to remember.
Back to Madame Marois
To my knowledge the above changes were not announced. Everything was done behind closed doors. But I have now learned how Madame Marois will not increase tuition fees. Quebecers pay higher taxes than other Canadians, 15% instead of 10% of their income, and, beginning now, they must pay an extra tax.
The poor in Quebec are not the students who get a nearly free education compared to Canadians living in provinces other than Quebec. Besides, the students have a future. The poor in Quebec are the elderly, those who were not members of a powerful syndicate and those who did not have a position that provided fringe benefits, such as a pension plan. Among the elderly, some find jobs, but indépendantisme has taken its toll. Quebec could be a very rich province, but who wants to invest in a province that threatens to separate from the rest of Canada.
At any rate, the students are now paying $25.00 more than they did last year or will pay, next year, $25.00 more than they do at the moment. The money will be taken from tax payers and, among them, needy persons and the elderly.
The truth is as follows. I wondered why Quebec’s mighty unions, les syndicats, had not supported the students in their last bid for a tuition-free education. The reason is that the Unions needed the students to get rid of veteran political figure Jean Charest‘s Liberal and federalist government. This goal was attained on 4 September 2012, when Madame Marois was elected to the premiership of Quebec.
My dear readers, I wish I could write more today. We have one more bestiary to look at and there are so many fascinating subjects to discuss, but everything has to wait until tomorrow.
I was a privileged university student. In my first year, having studied Spanish for six weeks, I was asked to play hostess to Flamenco guitarist Carlos Montoya who had been invited to give a recital at my university. The students who had organized the event were looking for a person who spoke Spanish and would greet Mr Montoya at the airport, take him to his hotel, pick him up the next morning, etc.
It had only been six weeks, but I had finished the course. Our professor no longer felt I needed to attend class. As well, I had all but memorized a short novel: La vida de un pícaro or La vida de Lazarillo de Tormés (1554).
At the airport, we realized that we could communicate not only “linguistically” but also otherwise. It was as though we had always known one another. I am a musician. So I spent two days accompanying a very fine Flamenco guitarist: a master.
Before leaving, he invited me to spend the following summer with him and his wife, in New York. I accepted, but my parents refused. That is another story, a story I will not tell.
I need Cerberus, the three-headed dog who in Greek and Roman mythology, guarded the Gates of the Underworld, to prevent those who had crossed the river Styx from ever escaping. However, I will settle for Fido, to the left.
Old News
I believe I need a little help so I can forget a better world. I remember my blue house, my office, my classroom, my students, my artist friends…
I cannot understand why I was overworked out of my position as university professor. I cannot understand why I was not replaced when I started feeling too tired to work.
Nor can I understand why an Insurance Company employee did not tell me that my application for permanent disability had not been approved. She sent me to a doctor who reported that I needed to rest for an undetermined period of time, but asked her to tell me not to leave my little town, as I would recover and was too sick to make a serious decision.
Some individuals recover from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, but others do not, at least not fully, which is my case. But I had learned to live quite normally despite Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, now called myalgic encephalomyelitis (ME). I had a very limited social life and went to bed early.
The Chair of my department should have been a little protective of me. I was already working very hard and I was always ready to help my colleagues. I was a good and particularly knowledgeable teacher, productive, resourceful and disciplined.
Had I been allowed to leave the classroom when I presented a doctor’s note, I may have recovered rather quickly. However, the Chair of my department told me he could not take my doctor’s note seriously.
As well, had I stopped working at the time I presented my doctor’s note, my “case manager” at the Insurance Company, might not have taken me for an imaginary invalid and punished me by letting me move, which was a mistake.
The Chair of my department reported to the administration and others that I had disrupted members of my department to a great extent. That was a lie. He, the Chair, had helped me for about two weeks, on the condition that I finish my teaching assignment and prepare and grade my final examinations, which I did. They would not replace me because I “could still walk.”
My workload was quite onerous: French classical literature; French-Canadian/Quebec literature; language courses (French as a second language); the creation of language lab components, etc.
Moreover, I was writing articles, etc. But suddenly, during a sabbatical I was devoting to writing a book on Molière, he, the Chair of my department, asked me to prepare and teach a course on Animals in Literature.
I would have refused, but I was afraid of him. He had got very angry at me in the past, so angry that once I fainted. I could not say ‘no.’ Not at that point in time.
I have to tell you
I am telling you, because I have to tell you. ME affects my blogging. I skip or repeat words and I write ‘and’ when I mean ‘an,’ or ‘has’ when I mean ‘as.’ It’s a comedy.
But I enjoy blogging. It allows me to use some of the knowledge I acquired to earn a PhD and worked as a university teacher. In fact, I have been President of the Canadian Association of University and College Teachers of French, etc. I was also a member of the Board of Directors and the Executive of the Canadian Federation for the Humanities (now Humanities and Social Sciences). I have lectured abroad…
I loved my little house, I loved my work, but a member of the administration had told a few years earlier that persons who suffered from a chronic illness were not good candidates for the classroom and that he was anxious to … Yet I could work under normal circumstances. I was once bullied into an episode of ME by colleagues who then put obstacles in my way so I would not return to teaching.
One cannot “get rid of” (quotation) a …
No, one cannot “get rid of” a teacher on the basis of a disability, but it happens. I know it happens because it happened to me. It was done in a subtle manner. I cannot tell for sure whether or not the Chair of my department acted deliberatly. But whatever his intentions, he worked me out of my position and then failed to tell the truth.
It has been ten years. No, I was not compensated yet I need to buy a little house because the soundproofing in my building is inadequate. I am a pianist. Selling the apartment will not buy me a little house. There are problems with the building.
* * *
Yes, I sometimes forget the spelling of a word. And there are times, rare times, when I cannot concentrate on my work. I hope you will understand.
But I am old news, so let us return to today’s news. There will be an election in September.
I should tell you that I am very proud of my WordPress community. You are dear to me.
I received a copy of Lynn’s last post. It arrived as my last post was leaving, which is a happy coincidence.
Lynn quotes Dr Howard Cutler, the author of The Art of Happiness. According to Dr Cutler, it is wise to “separate what is important in life from what isn’t.” I know that it is important for me to smile at the people I meet on campus and at my classmates. In other words, it is important for me to try and make this world a little better, even though this can only be done one person at a time.
My mother used to make all of her activities a pleasure. This left an imprint on me. However, she did not teach me that I had to say no to impossible requests. She taught obedience, as did most mothers at that time.
This has had serious repercussions. For instance, during a sabbatical I was devoting to finishing a book, I was asked to prepare a course on a subject I was not familiar with and, fearing reprimands, I accepted an impossible request.
I have suffered from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome for several decades, but have learned to manage this condition. However, I cannot carry a mammoth workload and too much stress can trigger an episode of CFS.
Although I cannot give details concerning my story, I believe I can say with considerable certainty that I was overworked out of my position and that, afterwards, it became difficult to find happiness in small events.
Yet I agree with you that happiness is in the details.
For instance, writing for WordPress is pleasurable as is studying music, or producing watercolour paintings. So, given that I derive happiness from these activities, I look upon them as important.
Besides, I enjoy beautiful interiors, so I have made my apartment a truly lovely space. I also listen to beautiful music while I write or paint. Moreover, I have never stopped trying to be a comforting presence for others. Finally, I give myself projects.
However, before I go back to my current project, allow me to send you a picture that has always given me great pleasure. It is by Camille Corot (1796–1875). In my life, Corot has always been extremely important.
I thank you for your post. That was also important.
Ville d’Avray par Camille Corot, 1870 (wikiart.org)
![woman-s-head[1]](https://michelinewalker.files.wordpress.com/2013/08/woman-s-head1.jpg)
Woman’s Head, by François Boucher (c. 1750)
François Boucher (29 September 1703 – 30 May 1770)
Rococo artist
Micheline Walker
4 August 2013
WordPress
Head of a Woman from Behind
François Boucher
(Please click on the image to enlarge it.)
Micheline's Blog 