Archives for August 2015

Remembering Joan Van Blom

Bad things, I’ve been reminded by several people lately, come in threes. The threats, the heart attack scare. And now a death in the family.

On Friday, physical education and women’s sports lost a huge champion—in every sense of the word—in the passing of my aunt, Joan Van Blom. Joan’s life and career illustrate why it’s wise to invest in women’s sports; she took full advantage of the opportunities available to her under Title IX, blazing a path through doors that weren’t previously open to women in rowing, including the Olympics. As a teacher, coach, athlete, and PE curriculum coordinator, she inspired at least two generations of athletes (and others!) of all genders.

From an album on Joan's Facebook page. Her caption: "just after the finish of the 1976 Olympic finals race in Montreal, July 24, 1976, smiling at the realization that I'd won silver and almost gold. Photo by John Van Blom who was alongside the course, riding in the back of a stationwagon. John still had his own Olympic finals race within days, stroking the US quad, in the first time men raced the quad in the Olympics. (1976 was John's 3rd of 4 Olympic teams (1968, 1972, 1976, 1980) all as a sculler. His 5th Olympic team  would be coaching our women's US quad to silver in 1984. — at Montreal, Canada - 1976 Olympics and other locations."

From an album on Joan’s Facebook page. Her caption: “just after the finish of the 1976 Olympic finals race in Montreal, July 24, 1976, smiling at the realization that I’d won silver and almost gold. Photo by John Van Blom who was alongside the course, riding in the back of a stationwagon. John still had his own Olympic finals race within days, stroking the US quad, in the first time men raced the quad in the Olympics. (1976 was John’s 3rd of 4 Olympic teams (1968, 1972, 1976, 1980) all as a sculler. His 5th Olympic team would be coaching our women’s US quad to silver in 1984. — at Montreal, Canada – 1976 Olympics and other locations.”

We all thought Joan would live forever, but she spent the past two years living with glioblastoma multiforme—and did so, at least as far as I saw, with verve and elegance. She kept rowing for as long as she could–and, being Joan, continued to take home the gold.

Despite all of her accomplishments and my great admiration for her, I’ll miss her laughter the most. Any dinner with Joan and her sisters, however informal, was always a party.

Jean Strauss has been crafting a documentary about Joan. Here’s a taste:

Joan Lind – America’s Sculler from Jean A. S. Strauss on Vimeo.

And here’s Joan’s own perspective:

An Island With Joan from Jean A. S. Strauss on Vimeo.

Some obituaries:

“In Memory of Joan Lind Van Blom” by US Rowing— including an especially thoughtful tribute by the women’s double at the World Championships on the day of Joan’s death

“Two-Time Olympic Medalist Joan Lind Van Blom Passes” at Row2k

From the Cal State Long Beach student rowing team: “Remembering Joan Lind Van Blom”

And, from the front page of the daily Long Beach paper, “Long Beach’s Joan Van Blom, rowing legend, dies of brain cancer at 62”

Pain and suffering

I’m not prone to anxiety, but the social media threats from the gun extremists have kept me awake in the middle of the night since I received them. Last Wednesday night, I woke up every hour with increasing chest pain. I assumed it was a combination of my asthma and the bad air—though the air has actually been improving as the wildfires move elsewhere. My inhaler didn’t do anything for the pain, so I decided to go to the ER in hopes of getting a stronger inhaler or some kind of breathing treatment.

Unfortunately, the symptoms and kind of chest pain I described made the doctor think I might have had a heart attack. He immediately ruled out pneumonia (chest x-ray) and moved on to blood tests (for cardiac enzymes) and an EKG. Because the EKG showed “nonspecific abnormalities,” he kept me several hours for observation, hooking me up to machines to monitor my heart rate and blood pressure, and inserting an intravenous cannula so the techs could take blood easily.

redlight

The next EKG came back with a different nonspecific abnormality, but the cardiac enzyme tests were within a normal range. He consulted with a cardiologist. The doctor let me go after a breathing treatment, handing me an inhaler and prescribing medicines for my heart and lungs. He told me I needed to see my own doctor that day.

I followed up with my own doctor, who suggested that, while my asthma could be better controlled during the wildfires—she said her clinic had been seeing many new patients with breathing issues—the real issue was anxiety. She sent me on my way with a prescription for a serious anxiety medication.

I have never in my life experienced anxiety on this level. I can’t sleep well. I’m distracted at work. I’m looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. The ER costs are going, I imagine, to be substantial.

Still, I’ve had tremendous support, and I’ll seek out even more going forward.

Thank you to everyone for your kindness in the face of this ugliness.

(Redacted)

(Trigger warning: This post contains references to sexual assault, as well as epithets related to the female anatomy.)

So. . . It’s been an interesting summer. Alas, I cannot tell you about most of it because last week I was singled out by an, ahem, Second Amendment enthusiasts’ group, which posted on its Facebook page (with my photo) that I am Michael Bloomberg’s minion because I am a lead volunteer for [Redacted Organization Trying to Reduce Gun Violence By and Against Children] and thus Enemy #1 of [Second Amendment Group That Shall Not Be Named Because I Don’t Want to Give it Attention Here]. A member of [Redacted Second Amendment Group] found my name on a press release on the national [Redacted Organization]’s website.

Of course, the very first comment on the post looked like this:

Screen Shot 2015-08-25 at 7.55.41 PM

 

Sexual assault promoter’s name intentionally not redacted. Please do not engage with anyone related to this incident.

The group’s moderator responded with a “watch your language–there are children watching!”-type comment, but didn’t remove the offensive comment. Neither would Facebook, as even though I and many others reported it, it apparently doesn’t violate Facebook’s Community Standards.

Anyhoo, because the post focused on my status as a Boise State professor and because that wasn’t the only troubling comment (just my favorite!), I called the campus police, who transferred me to a very nice municipal police officer in a patrol car, who immediately offered to start driving by the house. He walked me through how to file a report and said that if necessary, the police would work with social media analytics experts, the Counter-Terrorism Task Force, and the FBI. He called back after I filed the report to emphasize all the resources at my disposal. At some point—it’s a blur now—the officer and/or campus security offered me a special parking space near my office, escorts wherever I went, officers patrolling my building, and even someone posted outside my door. The police officer also called the next day, when he came back on shift, to check on me. Law enforcement took these threats very seriously.

And hey, I learned a few things:

  • You never know which of your colleagues has received death threats and thus has the cell and desk phone numbers for a local FBI agent.
  • If Facebook doesn’t remove an offensive comment, sometimes an ally can leave a comment that prompts the moderator to remove the original comment within minutes:

"The fact that you left that up demonstrates perfectly the unhinged nature of your organization. Thanks. This will be shared with the legislators you seek to persuade."

 

Be an ally, folks. I <3 James.

Readers, here’s what you should know: I’m fine. I’m safe. I have an amazing community of people from all over the political spectrum looking out for me. Friends offered alternate housing. The police and campus security were amazing, and I have not yet exhausted my security options. One gun-loving, [Redacted]-degree black belt offered to bring her AR and stand guard in front of my house all night. [Redacted] sent a posse my way, in the form of new Facebook friends, to read through my own reporting of the incident on Facebook and consider how best to approach the situation, and he suggested some legal routes I might take, depending on how things develop.

I attended a [Session of Redacted Spiritual Group], reintroduced myself to its community, and they, like good adherents of [Redacted Theology], offered me tea and clucked over me in a most [Redactedly] way.

So, what about the rest of the summer? Here’s some other news I can’t fully report because there have been threats to me:

  • [Redacted] is getting ready to advance to [Redacted Level in Redacted Sport]. We are very proud of [Redacted].
  • The [Redacted Home Security Measures] are working as expected.
  • I’m not teaching this semester, but I’m loving [Redacted Other Things I Do When I’m Not Teaching]–especially the [Redacted People with Whom I Often Work].
  • I’m planning an online course for the spring. It’s a ton of work, but kind of fun.
  • Although I wasn’t planning it, I accomplished [Redacted Thing on Bucket List that I Did Not Realize Was on My Bucket List Until I Did It]. Ends up that, with the threats, [Redacted Thing] was fortuitous. I really wish I could gush about [Redacted Thing’s Details], but now I can’t.
  • [Redacted Large Male Person with Whom I Live] is feeling [Redacted] about the gun kerfuffle, which [Redacted].
  • I went with [Redacted] to visit [Redacted] in [Redacted], and I had the opportunity to chat briefly with [Redacted Relative] shortly before she went on hospice. [Redacted] has lived much longer than expected, and has enjoyed tremendous support from her community at [Redacted]. Her decline came amazingly quickly, and it was hard talking to her because of [Redacted] and [Redacted]. Still, because [Redacted] lives next door to [Redacted], it’s been very hard on [Redacted], who is in the unenviable position of [Redacted]. I wrote a poem—the first in a long while—related to [Redacted], but I can’t share it here because [Redacted].

It’s going to be an interesting academic year. I’ll share as much of it as I can, but I must heed the words on this family crest:

Family crest depicting a white woman holding an anchor in one hand and the decapitated head of a white man in the other

Honestly, we’ve never been gun people.