Month: April 2026

a selfie showing some participants of the Straw Dog Writers Guild retreat participants

On April 25, 2026, the leadership of the Straw Dog Writers Guild gathered at the WOW Creative Arts Center in Westfield for a day-long retreat to discuss the organization. Fifteen people — the entire Steering Committee plus a handful of others — spent the day getting to know each other and the organization a bit better. By the end of the day, all of the world’s problems had been solved. Well, maybe not all of them. But we did have a productive conversation.

Due to my chronic health condition, I wore a mask for the event. It appears to me that respiratory illness is not particularly high right now, but I normally avoid spending long periods of time indoors with groups of unmasked people. I really don’t want to end up in the hospital again. The last time I attended an indoor Straw Dog retreat, I had persuaded the participants to mask for my benefit. But it was controversial and unpopular with some people, so I didn’t try to do that this time.

In the interests of full disclosure, I should point out that the post that follows is not a comprehensive report of what happened at the meeting. I did not take sufficiently detailed notes to represent everything that everyone said. This over-represents what I said and offers reactions primarily from my own perspective.

We began with an ice breaker. Becky Jones called on each of us to identify some symbol or metaphor to define ourselves. I broke the ice by saying what I typically say in such circumstances. Other people had similarly whimsical perspectives about themselves.

Ellie Meeropol provided a sheet with a summary of Straw Dog Writers Guild accomplishments from 2025 and 2026. For 2025, there were around ten on-going regular activities (Writer’s Night Out, Straw Dog Writes, Second Sunday readings, etc.) and around twenty one-time events (workshops on the craft and business of writing, Author’s Showcase, etc.) and this year looks on track to be similar. It was impressive to see all of our work represented.

a diagram showing straw dog activities, committees, and how they're organized.

Jacquelyn Sheehan and Bill Mailer led a discussion to flesh out a diagram (click to see full size) listing all of the on-going activities. We began with just trying to catalog everything then show how they map into committees and standing bodies. Finally, participants were invited to initial the parts they are involved with. I’m listed for Straw Dog Writes, the Program Committee, and website. I’m currently scheduled to chair a committee to coordinate with Christopher J. Sparks and Electropoetics, that will start redesigning the Straw Dog website in the coming months.

Don Lesser brought forward a question of whether Straw Dog should charge non-members to participate in workshops. This generated a lot of discussion that included a consideration of Straw Dog’s mission and the history of this topic, which was tried before and rejected. Making non-members pay a nominal fee to attend both has the potential to get people to see more value in the workshops and actually show up, if they’ve registered. It also might give members an increased sense of value for their membership. It also could suppress participation and raised concerns about its alignment with Straw Dog’s mission. My primary contribution to the discussion was about practical concerns: It sounds simple, but would require a fair amount of staff support to build out the infrastructure to collect the money, track which registrations were by members, check attendees for payment, integrate with online registration systems, etc.

During the potluck lunch, I stayed inside without eating because I avoid unmasking indoors. The last time I attended a Straw Dog retreat, I took my lunch outside and ate by myself. But I found that rather stigmatizing because everyone else was having conversations that I was excluded from. (I had persuaded people to mask that time, but they all necessarily unmasked during lunch and I didn’t feel safe staying indoors.) So this time, I just didn’t eat and talked with people while they ate. This was also stigmatizing (as if being the only person wearing a mask wasn’t stigmatizing in itself). But it was OK and I had some nice side conversations with people.

After lunch, we did another community building activity where we interviewed another person and then reported a summary of the conversation to the group. I met a young woman named Emily whom I hadn’t met before. At least I don’t think I’d met her before. I summarized the blog post I was writing about work and she talked about how her conception of location or place had evolved as she transitioned from childhood to adulthood. It was charming to get to know her a little better —and to learn a bit more about all of the other participants from their reported conversations.

Julie Schlack and Mary Ann Scognamiglio led the final activity of the day, to brainstorm ideas to aid recruitment and retention of new members. There were a lot ideas about building and sustaining community. I had been spending the day making notes of ideas that I had, which I then shared with the group. My ideas were:

  • Recruit member representatives for local organizations in the communities we serve to facilitate communication and ensure our activities are made visible on event schedules, bulletin boards, etc.
  • Develop a recruitment presentation that members could use to describe Straw Dog to other audiences.
  • Bring some focus to a national recruitment campaign (as our workshops are increasingly available via zoom, we’ve already picked up a substantial number of members across the country, which we could grow.)
  • Offer support and coordination for book launches to members. (We have a virtual book launch coming up that we’re hoping to use as a template.)
  • More committees or advisory boards for program elements, to provide increased opportunities to members to grow into leadership positions in the organization. (We have only a small number of actual committees currently, but it was pointed out that the WriteAngles conference could always use more volunteers.)
  • Set up book vending machines to sell books for members. This is an idea I’ve seen be successful in other areas. It would require some capital, but I think a lot of authors would jump at the chance to have their books available via vending machines and the machines themselves would serve as advertising for Straw Dog and its authors.
  • Offer more articles via the website and coordinate with the newsletter. Offer posts about writing, about members, about events, and maybe book reviews. Have teasers in the Newsletter and use it to drive more traffic to the website.
  • Use communication software more effectively. Currently most Straw Dog communications occur via email which has a lot of downsides. Committees mostly communicate by people just using “reply-all” to the last message sent to the group, which has the potential to miss some people, propagate typos in email addresses, or include the wrong people (if someone was copied into a previous message). We could use Discord or a threaded-discussion system (or someone recommended Slack) to communicate more effectively. This would ensure the history of groups remains accessible so that interested members or newcomers could lurk and more easily get up to speed..
  • Use our CRM more effectively. We have a new CRM, but it could track more information about members and our previous contacts with them, so that we can target subpopulations and follow up with people better.

There were a number of other ideas as well, but those are the ones that I brought forward.

At the end, Bob Plasse, the President of the Board of Directors of WOW was given an opportunity to comment on our retreat and tell us more about the WOW Center. He had a lot of insight into a community organization like ours and described what WOW was doing that we could consider replicating or articulating with.

The retreat was time well spent and I’m hopeful that we can implement a number of the ideas in the coming year.

an istvan bierfaristo mug

After reading Riva’s Escape (a side story of Revin’s Heart), one of my beta readers commented about how they appreciated the way my writing recognized the value and significance of work. In the scene, Revin (who has just transitioned) is pressed into service working in the kitchen of a restaurant washing dishes. This got me thinking about how my own experience with work has impacted how I write about it.

I started working on a farm before I was legally old enough to work. At age 15, a friend and I were hired to bale straw. We rode on a wagon behind a tractor grabbing bales of straw that emerged from the baler — a complicated machine that was powered by a shaft from the tractor. We would take turns carrying the bales back and stacking them up until the wagon was full. It was hot, dirty, and dusty. Looking back, my current lung condition probably wasn’t helped by breathing all the dust. We would often work until it was starting to get dark. I remember coming home in the gathering dark, taking a shower with the dirt sluicing off me, closing my eyes, and feeling like I was still bumping along on the wagon. Years later, I tried bailing hay. As an adult, I was hired to work by myself on the wagon (ie, working twice as hard) and lifting bales that weighed twice as much. I lasted one day.

I spent two summers as a high school student working as an animal caretaker in a toxicology laboratory. It was a bleak, proletarian existence. You were required to punch a time clock within seven minutes (five minutes before the hour or two minutes after) to punch in, then punch out before legally required breaks and lunch, punch back in afterwards, and then punch out at the end of the day. I was on the “large animal” team that cared primarily for beagles. Other teams did mice, rats, rabbits, and monkeys. The entire windowless facility had tan walls, gray floors, and unfinished ceilings with black-painted duct-work, pipes, and wiring. The animal rooms had two banks of stacked cages with a big floor sink at the end. I would go into a room, clean and fill all the water dishes, then pull the trays under the cages one after another, wash them in the sink, then replace them. Finally, I would recheck the water dishes and clean/refill any that were empty. (Some dogs, desperate for stimulation, would dig in their water dish as soon as you filled it.) It became so routine that I could daydream during the process to the extent that, when I got my schedule out after leaving a room, I sometimes had to check to see if I had just finished a room or just arrived.

I worked for a year as a busboy at chain seafood restaurant. There, I had perhaps the worst boss I ever had as an employee. In the restaurant, there was a lounge attached to the restaurant with an entrance for patrons and a passage containing the busboy station near the ice and soft drink dispensers for waitstaff. The boss would walk through those entrances in a big circle and every time she came around, I was doing the wrong thing. “Why are you bussing tables! The floor is dirty! Sweep the floor!” So I’d carry my tub to the dishwasher, get the sweeper and start sweeping the floor and she would return, “Why are you sweeping the floor! There are tables that need to be bussed!” She was pure evil.

I worked for a while as a gas-station attendant. When I was in middle-school, they had kids take the “differential aptitude test” — one of the many standardized tests used for nefarious purposes by educators — that included a component that was supposed to help you identify potential career options. I knew that I wanted to be a field biologist, so I tried to pick options that I thought would be aligned with that goal: Yes, I liked working outside. Yes, I liked working with numbers, etc, etc. Eventually, the computer spat out an answer: it said I should be a gas-station attendant. So, when I actually worked as one years later it was a more than a little ironic. I actually liked it quite a bit, though it was not a particularly good choice as a career, with poor pay and limited options for advancement.

I had a lot of different jobs over the years. I was a dishwasher in a college cafeteria. I worked as an archeological faunal analyst. I was a Spanish-speaking bilingual teacher’s aide for a migrant worker education program. I was a substitute teacher for a time. (That was horrible.) I did scientific field work in many different contexts: catching birds, lizards, mongooses, etc. For several years, I was an “edutainer” traveling to elementary schools to teach about science. I visited hundreds of schools in a dozen different states.

Eventually, I returned to graduate school. I pursued a PhD in Science Education. (I also got a Masters in Earth Science studying wetlands hydrology). While I was doctoral student, I got tasked with setting up a computer lab and then the Internet happened. These experiences led directly to my career as a faculty member serving as the Director of a computer center at an R1 institution. In this role, I performed a vast number of teaching, research, and service activities. (My curriculum vitae is more than 20 pages long.)

These work experiences have all informed my writing in multiple contexts.

I find that “work” is actually a somewhat loaded and conflicted word. On the one hand, it can mean the drudgery you are required to perform. But it can also have the connotation of your calling, your “life’s work,” which for many people becomes nearly their identity. Some people detest work while others strive for the ideal of “do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.” I have deep respect for the work that people do in all walks of life. And I was pleased that this was reflected in my writing to the extent that someone noticed it.

a rocky outcrop covered with mosses, ferns, and lichens

Relatively soon after I moved to the Pioneer Valley, my father gifted me a membership to the Trustees of Reservations and encouraged me to visit Bartholomew’s Cobble. It’s a bit of drive, in the extreme south-west corner of the state. But it’s an amazing place with the highest plant diversity of any site in New England. This spring, I visited again to see the spring wildflowers.

A friend and I made a road trip out of the adventure. We masked up (due to my health issues) and drove on back roads so we could keep the windows down. We drove first to Westfield and stopped at Skyline Trading Company for lunch. Then we took a new (to me) route through the back roads, criss-crossing over the Connecticut border to get there.

I’ve always been fascinated by plants. As a child, I frequently went with my father to natural areas where he introduced me to plant identification. As an undergraduate, I took a lot of botany classes: plant morphology and structure, spring flora, and plant systematics. And, as a graduate student, I studied wetlands hydrology, for which plant identification was essential.

Bartholomew’s Cobble is a promontory of quartzite and marble situated by a bend of the Housatonic river. This creates four distinct zones: cool dry, cool wet, warm wet, and warm dry. Plus the marble limestone, relatively rare in Massachusetts, creates regions with higher pH which adds to the range of available microhabitats. This produces the high plant diversity at the site.

We arrived in mid afternoon and, after paying the admission fee, set out walking. There are several trails through the reservation, but the one I always take is the half-mile Ledges trail. It simply follows a route around the promontory and takes you through each of the habitats. You start at the cool-dry quadrant, then pass into the cool-wet segment along the river, then turn west into the warm-wet, then warm-dry, and then finally return to the parking area.

a rocky outcrop with wake robins and dutchman's breeches underneath.

The progression of spring wildflowers was markedly different between the cool and warm sides. In the cooler areas, spring had only just started to arrive. There weren’t many flowers or fiddleheads. But mosses, lichens, and older growth were apparent. The warmer sides had many of the classic early spring wildflowers: triliums, dutchman’s breeches, trout lilies, spring beauties, etc., etc. It was lovely.

My friend is a molecular biologist who was intrigued by the variety of plants. Like me, he teaches the writing class at the University. He was fascinated by the number and variety of plants and began thinking about adapting his version of the course to have students look at plant diversity in the fall. It’s a lot easier than it used to be.

I spent years and years studying plant identification. Nowadays, I find that although I can still recognize a lot of familiar plants, there are vastly more I never learned. I even wrote a haiku (published in Ideoj Ĝermas) about the experience of seeing the plants that bloom after your spring flora class is over.

Also identifications have changed. A lot of the nomenclature I learned has been replaced, as molecular systematics has reorganized the phylogeny of plants.

Nowadays, you don’t need to learn plant identification at all. People can use apps to identify plants. I’ve used LeafSnap and, more recently, iNaturalist, that also keeps a record of plants you’ve observed and has experts that help confirm identifications. This can allow students — even with little experience with plant diversity — to make observations about plant species and distribution.

I’ve visited Bartholomew’s Cobble perhaps five times over the past thirty years. Maybe someday, I’ll walk some of the other trails.

old jelly jar

After Donald Trump was elected for a second time, he began to systematically destroy the “rules-based order” that the US had painstaking constructed after World War II. It’s elements included having an independent bureaucracy and judiciary, floating the dollar as the reserve currency of the world, keeping the world’s communications networks centered here, maintaining an enormous military to be the world’s policemen, etc. Although somewhat expensive, this arrangement provided enormous benefits.

In little more than a year, these are all in tatters. The US is now the largest and most powerful corrupt mafia state in the world, run entirely at the whim of a single dictator who maintains a masked paramilitary force to terrorize cities, who arbitrarily attacks dairy farms and fishing boats, who abducts the leaders of other countries, and who unilaterally begins wars.

People argue whether he is the cause or the symptom of an electorate that is too stupid and provincial to understand what immense harm he’s doing to the standing of the country. But I would like to argue that the moment that the US actually jumped the shark and began on the path that led inevitably to this moment was when Ronald Reagan was elected.

I think this graph pretty much sums it up:

Post by @Lightfighter@infosec.exchange
View on Mastodon

Ronald Reagan had a handful of bad ideas and pursued them vigorously. He began the process of undermining confidence in the ability of government to be a force for good. He began the Republican practice of appointing cronies to govern incompetently and cynically, so that people would see government negatively.

Critically, he presided over the decoupling of productivity gains from wages for workers. The voodoo economics of “trickle down” began under Reagan. Prior to his administration, as productivity increased, wages for workers increased commensurately. After Reagan, productivity continued to increase, but wages were flat. And basically have been flat until today. The rich got richer, but everyone else got poorer and poorer.

These two factors are what we see playing out today. People no longer believe that government or expertise are forces for good. Even though they enjoy the fruits of science, technology, and medicine, they have been impoverished economically, and they blame government.

To be fair, the Democrats have not distinguished themselves. Under Bill Clinton, the Democratic party became a kind of Republican-lite. He created the Democratic Leadership Council that began pursuing funding from the wealthiest in the country. Democrats pushed back against the worst excesses of the Republicans, seeking at least to govern competently, but remained in the pockets of the wealthy and failed to effectively advocate for working people.

I could see these things happening when Reagan was President. I kept waiting for the country to realize the enormous damage he had done. But they kept naming things after him, as if he had done anything other than preside over the destruction of the American dream. Now, finally, people seem to be realizing the enormity of the injury he inflicted on the country. But the damage is done and things are likely to get worse for a long time to come at this point.

Donald Trump has made the United States an international pariah. The rules-based order isn’t coming back. The rest of the world is never going to trust the United States again. So the country is likely to get poorer for the foreseeable future. Sorry. I mean the population of the United States. The billionaires will probably keep getting richer.

Donald Trump is the one who actually took an axe to the world order that had been so painstaking constructed to benefit us. But the seeds its destruction were sown by Ronald Reagan. And we are left to reap the bitter harvest of his cynical crop.