My life of the mind: Embracing transitions

Raphael’s School of Athens (Apostolic Palace, The Vatican; photo: DY)

Since 1991, I’ve been a full-time law professor.  But that’s changing now. I’ve entered a voluntary phased retirement program at Suffolk University Law School in downtown Boston, where I’ve been teaching since 1994.  Starting with the current academic year, I’m on a half-time teaching schedule, and will remain so for the following two academic years. Although I may continue to teach on a very part-time basis after that, I am concluding my full-time employment as a law professor.

Although I still enjoy teaching our wonderful students at Suffolk, I’m delighted to be transitioning into a busy and fulfilling semi-retirement. I’ll be engaging in a variety of lifelong learning and cultural enrichment activities, volunteer service on various non-profit boards and advisory committees, and ongoing aspects of my long-time work. I’ll also do hobbies and spend more time with people dear to me.

As part of this transition, I’m looking at how my various learning and related activities are shaping up. Here’s how things are looking for now:

Great Books and Great Ideas

In 2024, I completed the Basic Program of Liberal Education for Adults, offered since 1946 by the University of Chicago’s Graham School for Continuing Liberal and Professional Studies. As I wrote earlier on this blog:

The Basic Program is an open enrollment, non-credit, four-year sequence of courses featuring the close reading and discussion of what have been called the Great Books. It starts with works by ancient Greek philosophers and poets and proceeds to examine other canonical authors and works of the Western tradition.

The Basic Program experience was so meaningful, both intellectually and personally, that I’ve continued to take elective courses and course sequences at Graham. Right now I’m enrolled in a series of courses titled “The End(s) of Humanity,” which use the lens of the humanities to consider existential crises such as climate change and the nuclear threat.

And by adding a service component, I’m jumping into this U of Chicago thing with both feet. Last year, I accepted an invitation to join the Graham Council, a volunteer body appointed by the University’s board of trustees that supports the Graham School and provides input and feedback to its administrators and faculty. And in the fall, I was interviewed for a video commemorating the upcoming 80th anniversary of the Basic Program and participated in a panel discussion on the value of reading Great Books.

Offering remarks during a Graham School panel discussion, Hyde Park, Chicago

I now regard the Graham School as a vital long-term home base for my lifelong learning activities. My service role with Graham also enables me to support the liberal arts and humanities generally. In sum, this has become an enormously enriching and satisfying association.

University of Chicago, Hyde Park, Chicago (photo: DY)

Singing

I am passionate about . . . ” is probably one of the most overused expressions of our day. But dear reader, I am truly passionate about singing as a very meaningful, fun, and healthy hobby and pastime.

Since 1995, I’ve taken a weekly singing workshop with the same instructor, Jane Eichkern, first at the Boston Center for Adult Education, now at the Cambridge Center for Adult Education. Taught in a supportive, encouraging small class format, it has been a place of learning, fun, and fellowship. It has been part of the rhythm of my life, going back to my first year in Boston. I have not missed enrolling in a term since I first signed up.

During recent years, I’ve become a big karaoke enthusiast as well. My go-to venue is the main stage at VIVA Karaoke & Studios in Boston’s Theatre District. Before the pandemic, I had become a regular at VIVA’s predecessor, Limelight Karaoke. When they reopened under the VIVA name, I returned and have kept returning.

I’m singing a fave Sinatra tune at the VIVA Karaoke main stage in Boston

I love singing the old standards, also referred to as the Great American Songbook. Songs popularized by the likes of Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Bobby Darin, and others are among my favorites. (If you’re on Facebook, you can check out three of these croonings here, here, and here!)

I harbor enormously modest singing ambitions: I want to be a great karaoke singer. That’s it! I’ve resisted suggestions to expand my vistas by seeking out a choral group or local theatre company to join. Voice class and karaoke are my happy places.

History

I have been an amateur student of history going back to grade school. This next chapter of my life will allow me more time to steep myself in learning about and understanding our past. Fortunately, I live in a city that is simply steeped in history. Among other things, Boston played significant roles in the American Revolution and in the anti-slavery movement that led into the American Civil War. The city is a casebook of early Americana.

I’m forging a very rewarding connection to the world of history via my service on the board of directors of Revolutionary Spaces, Inc., a Boston-based non-profit institution. Rev. Spaces stewards two nationally significant historic sites — the Old South Meeting House and the Old State House, both located in downtown Boston — and offers public education exhibits, tours, and programs about U.S. history, democracy, and freedom of speech. I began attending Rev. Spaces events in 2023. I was so impressed by the quality of programs and staff there that I basically enthused my way onto the board.

Performers take their bows at the annual interactive Rev. Spaces re-enactment of the raucous 1773 public meeting that preceded the Boston Tea Party, at the site where it happened (Old South Meeting House, Boston; photo: DY)

These on-site opportunities join with hundreds of books about history that are part of my personal library, many of which await my semi-retirement. With a bit of luck and good health, the upcoming years will allow me to satisfy more of my history geek leanings.

Non-Scholarly Writing Projects

I’m looking forward to doing more non-scholarly writing during the years to come. This includes social media contributions and articles for periodicals.

In addition, I want to explore some non-traditional venues. Before I began my teaching career, I was very drawn to the world of zines — little magazines and short booklets, often self-published — and imagined myself someday publishing in that mode. Well, the publication expectations of academe took over at that point, to the extent that even serious blogging (of which I’ve done a ton) isn’t considered to be academic writing by many people in this business.

But with my schedule becoming more flexible, I’m starting to explore what continues to be a thriving zine world. Lately I’ve been spending a lot of time with offerings from Microcosm Publishing, and I’ve got several ideas for zine writing that might be interesting to some readers out there.

Part of my latest zine haul from Microcosm Publishing (photo: DY)

Legacy Work

Finally, although I will no longer be a full-time law professor, I will remain professionally active in focal areas that have shaped my academic work for decades, such as workplace bullying, employee safety and dignity, and therapeutic jurisprudence.

I’ve been doing this workplace anti-bullying stuff for a long time, and I have no intentions to stop.

This will include advocating for the enactment of workplace anti-bullying laws in the U.S., engaging in research, writing, and public education projects about creating healthier workplaces, and supporting the evolution of the law through innovative frameworks such as therapeutic jurisprudence. You may read more about my work at my Minding the Workplace blog, which I have been writing since 2008, and download many of my scholarly writings without fee from my Social Science Research Network page.

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My various activities will keep me downing coffee on a regular basis (photo: DY)

When I began thinking hard about what I would like this next chapter of my life to look like, lifelong learning naturally emerged as a recurring theme. The common thread that ties together so many of these activities is a commitment to learning and education, both for me and for others. I’m very much looking forward to it all.

What’s behind “More Than A Song”?

So why name a blog about lifelong learning and adult education More Than a Song? A couple of stories provide the answer to that.

A Beginning Voice

Back in the spring of 1995, I was finishing my first year of teaching at Suffolk University Law School in Boston, where I had accepted an appointment as an entry-level assistant professor. It had been a grueling and sometimes stressful year. It started with a move from New York to Boston during the previous summer, followed by a heavy load of classes that required new course preps.

As the school year was coming to an end, I was looking for something fun, different, and distinctly non-legal to do. I had picked up a catalog from the Boston Center for Adult Education (BCAE) and saw a course listing for “Beginning Voice,” accompanied by a short description explaining that learners would sing in a mutually supportive setting. Although I had never done any formal voice instruction before, I had always enjoyed singing, and from the description I assumed this would be like a group chorus experience. On a whim, I signed up.

On a Tuesday night in May, I showed up for the first class, and I was in for a surprise. Jane, our Juilliard-trained instructor, explained the course format: Each week, students individually perform a song of their choice to piano accompaniment and then are coached in front of the group.

From the songbooks that Jane brought to class, I picked a Cole Porter classic, “I Get a Kick Out of You” (featured in the show Anything Goes). Eventually I got up and went to front of the room. Bruce, our accompanist, started to play, and I managed to channel Sinatra finish the song. After polite applause, Jane gave me a few coaching tips, and I sat down, extremely relieved.

Despite my initial shock over the class format, I returned for the remaining sessions. In fact, I registered for every session of the class thereafter, until the BCAE closed its doors in December 2019 because of budgetary and other issues. That class covered 25 years of my life! My repertoire revolved around the Great American Songbook, singing old standards made famous by the Gershwins, Cole Porter, Rodgers & Hammerstein, and other prominent 20th century composers and lyricists.

I’ve reached a point where I’m a decent singer, so this activity has definitely included personal growth and development, not to mention a lot of fun and source of valued friendships. Singing has also become a form of therapy, a sort of mindfulness practice. It’s about being in the moment and stepping away from everyday ups and downs.

I don’t have any great singing ambitions. We plan to revive the voice class at another adult education center once the current pandemic crisis is over. Regular karaoke sessions and occasional open mic/cabaret nights have become part of the mix as well. (At this writing, karaoke has gone online — a surprisingly fun option!) These modest activities aside, singing with friends has become an important part of my life.

A Friend’s Memoir

John Ohliger (1926-2004) was an iconoclastic, pioneering adult educator, activist, and public intellectual. John’s wide-ranging career included the fostering of a unique, self-styled non-profit entity called Basic Choices, Inc., located in Madison, Wisconsin and described as “A Midwest Center for Clarifying Political and Social Options.” Prior to that, he held a tenured professorship in adult education at Ohio State University. In 2002, he was inducted into the International Adult and Continuing Education Hall of Fame.

John was also a cherished personal friend. Although we met in person only twice — via visits to Madison and Boston joined by wonderful company of John’s wife, Chris Wagner — we maintained an ongoing friendship through hundreds of email exchanges and collaborated on several projects. After John’s passing, his work was the subject of a unique collection of essays edited by Andre Grace and Tonette Rocco, Challenging the Professionalization of Adult Education: John Ohliger and Contradictions in Modern Practice (2009). I was delighted to contribute a chapter to the book, “The Adult Educator as Public Intellectual,” which can be accessed here.

Although I knew that John pursued an eclectic array of personal, intellectual, and artistic interests, I was nonetheless mildly surprised when he crafted his unpublished memoir around the framing theme of music and song. Titled My Search for Freedom’s Song: Some Notes for a Memoir, he repeatedly built the short chapters using anecdotes about the role of music in his life.

When I read it, however, I understood. This was no artificial literary device. Music and song were ongoing parts of his life. It became altogether clear why John chose this theme for his memoir.

Epiphany

Perhaps with the exception of my friends from voice class and karaoke sessions, many folks in my life are likely to associate me with the work I’ve been doing for many years as a law professor. (See my Minding the Workplace blog for a taste of that work.)

And yet, when it came to naming this blog, I found myself bowing to John Ohliger’s framing device of music and song. My life of learning has included both, in abundance. Music has always been a meaningful part of my personal culture. Singing has become my favorite pastime, thanks to voice class and karaoke. I mean, think about it, I took a group voice class for some 25 years, with the same teacher and an ongoing cohort of fellow students — and I’d still be doing so now if things were different.

So, dear reader, welcome to More Than a Song. I hope it will provide you with insight, entertainment, and inspiration to pursue your own life of learning.