Katie Kearns

Wonder Woman/Wonder Women

Wonder Woman is holding open the jaws of a gigantic toothy reptile. I'm sure the reptile has a name in the comic books.

One of my best friends told me that after a major relationship breakup, he listened to music and watched shows he enjoyed before he had met that person. He deliberately reminded himself of who he used to be, and he mindfully reincorporated elements of that past self into his present self after that life transition. I’m reading Jill Lepore’s book, “The Secret Life of Wonder Woman” and planning to read the comics. And I’m watching the Wonder Woman tv show.

It’s complicated

A woman in black board shorts and a life jacket is standing on a paddleboard. She is near the end of the lake, the trees behind her are green. It's a sunny day out.

During one of “try out this new skill” SUP breakouts, another participant and I were trying to make a flotilla from our boards. “Do you work for IU?” he asked. “I just left IU a month ago,” I replied. “Congratudolences?”

The meaning of water

The view from a kayak. The bow and an oar are in the foreground, the lake and the bank with trees is ahead.

Taking that 200-level ecology course was a sliding door moment for me. It changed my life trajectory, my worldview about my own power and place, and my associations and affiliations. It was the start of a new self-narrative.

Clicky pens

a package of three BIC pens with one on the side of the container. There are four scribbles on the side: black, blue, green, and red

What isn’t verifiable is my internal experience of that class. I can still unearth the sensations from layers of quiet panic related to that class. It’s a Pavlovian experience for me; if I hear the click from that kind of pen, I am taken right in my mind and body to the sensations of being in that orgo class.

Music lessons

Two clarinet cases, open, next to each other. The case on the left is brown, the one on the right is black.

Our musical communities anticipated and accepted change as a gift of the experience. Thus, passages, initiations, and transitions were opportunities to collectively honor what had been and celebrate what’s ahead. During my senior year, we created our own musical festival on a Friday night in the school cafeteria called “Wild Things,” a homegrown extravaganza including a drum circle (organized by our science teacher) and our class’ garage band, Pale Green Pants (my favorite song of theirs was “Chunky Monkey”). The cast of Annie gave me a rubber dog bone as a get-well present after I sustained a serious dog bite while working at a vet clinic that same summer after my senior year (yes, I had _four_ part-time jobs that summer of 1992).

Love letters from graduate students

the title is in white lettering on a tan banner. The main image is an overhead shot of five students at a round table collaborating

I received the email about the book award the evening before I made my resignation public. That message helped me balance my grief with all of the loving relationships and communities I had been a part of creating over my 18 years. As I depart this university, I cherish the book and the contained graduate students’ essays as love letters. Between the lines, I can see, hear, and feel what mattered to them about the worlds we co-created.

Slow down! Graduate student developers at play

A hand is holding a mug that says "stop me before I volunteer again." There's a woman's face on the mug. The design has 1950s styling.

Graduate student developers regularly perform pure magic with professional development programming for graduate students: pedagogy workshops, learning communities, feedback on teaching philosophy statements, classroom observations. At the same time, we make invisible what a project really costs in terms of specialized time, skills, and energy.

Remembrances of my father

In the middle of the picture, a small girl with pigtails is seated on a bed looking at a book held by a man to the right. He has dark hair and dark-rimmed glasses.

My father’s work often meant trips to Washington, DC, and we occasionally went with him. I have many fond memories of exploring the National Mall, the National Air and Space Museum, and the Natural History Museum with my dad. We went up the Washington Monument at night. Those trips are part of a connection I feel with him about space-related things. I was in sixth grade when Halley’s Comet made a close pass in 1986; we woke up at 3am multiple times on his work days to hang out in dark fields with amateur astronomers and their telescopes to see the comet.

Leaving the hibernation den

Two feet from mid-calf down. They are wearing black sneakers with white soles. The person is wearing dark grey sweatpants. They are standing on a wood floor.

I promised myself that the first day I would work only a half-day in-person. Even that was a lot. The office lights were excruciatingly bright and the considerate, everyday noise of people in the office overwhelmed my sensory system. I retreated to my office “den” where I used desk lamps instead of the overhead lights and kept my door cracked or closed.

Baby steps

A white cat sleeping on a bed spread with pastel boxes of color.

Discomforts started setting in by around day three. Sensations which I had long ago adapted to and learned to manage subconsciously were now very consciously noticed new sensations. I felt really overstimulated and mentally exhausted. And cranky and impatient.