Not Ready to Make Nice

Forgive, sounds good. Forget, I'm not sure I could. They say time heals everything, But I'm still waiting I'm through, with doubt, There's nothing left for me to figure out, I've paid a price, and I'll keep paying I'm not ready to make nice, I'm not ready to back down, I'm still mad as hell And I don't have time To go round and round and round It's too late to make it right

 

Barry and Pop Culture? That old fella with the grey hair, wears the dark suits and white shirts? He is making references to ... country music?? The Dixie Chicks just blow me away. I enjoy some of their music, but I admire their immense courage. They have suffered vicious attacks from the right wing of the American fan base for an anti-Bush comment and yet have remained resolutely, even defiantly committed to their political stand in the face of career reversal, significant financial loss, and threats of violence. And they have incorporated the self-doubt, the fear and the anger back into their work with their song Not ready to make nice.

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I was talking to a contemporary of mine today, the usual hallway conference in late afternoon. As our conversation moved to the strike, he volunteered that he felt that this administration has done itself a terrible, almost insurmountable disservice in allowing labour relations to deteriorate to this point. It was, in his considered and seasoned opinion, far too late to go back to the collegial relationship faculty used to have with administration. A deliberate act of disrespect towards faculty and towards students was how he angrily characterized the administration's walking away from the bargaining table with almost two weeks left in which the strike could be averted. And still other faculty members with whom I discuss the strike have told me they knew the gloves were off and that we were in for a street fight when the administration suspended talks. As another colleague joined us today in the hall, the sentiment was expressed that no amount of post-strike goodwill will heal this rift. Over the past week, at least three other colleagues, senior and respected, have voiced the same feeling. I guess I was naïve when I assumed that a notoriously short institutional memory would help Brock get over the damage that has already been caused by this strike. I assumed that that the alienation I am feeling was merely personal, the result of having been exposed to Schopenhauer at far too tender an age. Was I wrong! The depth, the intensity of this feeling and how it seems to be spreading amongst my colleagues, especially those of my generation, has taken me by surprise. They feel betrayed. Too late to make it right.