In April of last year the Department of Economic Development here in Prince Edward Island was renamed and became the Department of Innovation and Advanced Learning. In announcing the change, Government outlined the role of the new department:

Prince Edward Island’s greatest natural resource is its people. We have a long and proud history of innovation - and a population that is fiercely loyal to the province.

For that reason, substantial new investments will be made in the years to come, which will offer Islanders much greater access to educational opportunities in a changing economy.

The new Department of Innovation and Advanced Learning will blend the challenges of a changing economy with the province’s capacity to promote post-secondary education, learning and training.

At the time I was spending more time than usual on projects at the University of PEI, and I came to realize there was something of a caste system at the university: faculty, staff, students. And “other,” the category I fell into. While this might seem like a perfectly normal state of affairs, in light of Government’s desire to provider “much greater access to educational opportunities in a changing economy,” the distinctions seemed artificial and counter-productive.

And so I had an idea: why not make every citizen of Prince Edward Island a member of the university.

At the hospital on the day you’re born you’d get your UPEI card along with your birth certificate. And while this might not entitle us to freely attend classes, it would afford some actual privileges: borrowing books from the library, access to site-licensed journals, wifi access, a discount at the bookstore.

But perhaps more important that any practical benefit, the mere fact of saying this place is your place could, in one act, change the place of the institution relative to the community from something remote, effete, and available only to the especially qualified to a become a vital, accessible, and inclusive institution that belongs to and can learn from and enhance the lives of all Islanders.

Yes the change would be symbolic. But symbols matter, and a university that says “we value you so much that we’re going to bring you inside” is far more likely to develop an intimate, symbiotic relationship with its community that one that continues to maintain the traditional walls around the academy.

I’ve been trying this idea out for some months now, running it by various people inside UPEI and out, and it has, I think, at least ignited some discussion. To be able to really try it on for size, however, I realized that I needed, as a lowly member of the “other” caste, to try to engage the academy and see how it went.

An opportunity conveniently arose this fall when Neb Kujundzic invited me to participate in his course Philosophy 105: Technology, Values & Science this semester.

I wasn’t sure whether this was best done as a bona fide student, by formally auditing the course, or by just showing up, so I decided to start down the enrolment path and see how that went. I sent an email to the Registrar:

I would like to register for the course “Philosophy 105: Technology, Values & Science,” starting in January.

I am what you appear to call either an “adult learner” or an “unclassified undergraduate” (or maybe a “lifelong learner?”).

Can you please tell me what steps I need to take to apply for and/or register for this course.

I received back a one-line reply:

You would need to fill out an unclassified form, found online, or you can come in and fill a form out.

Not exactly the sort of “wow, you want to engage with UPEI: that’s amazing — here’s exactly what you need to do, and why don’t you stop around and have a coffee and we can talk about other ways you might get involved” response I would expect to receive to from an institution that seems so otherwise eager to talk the “lifelong learning” talk.

As there didn’t seem to be any benefit from actually registering for the course in any case — I’m many, many credits away from any sort of graduation and this certainly wasn’t going to push me over the line — I decided rather to take the “just show up” approach, albeit with Neb’s kind permission and under the cover of a “Technologist in Residence” billing.

And so today at 10:30 a.m. I took my place at the back of Room 120 in the Main Building at UPEI (it’s the building that apparently needs no sign, what being the “main” building and all) and took in my first class: my first time in a classroom in 23 years.

Things were much as I remembered them from the mid-1980s: professor at the front of the room, students on terraces with uncomfortable chairs and tiny desks, annoying fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I got the same familiar antsy “can I really sit still for 40 minutes and listen to someone talk” feelings before things got going.

I can’t say I was overwhelmed by the parry and thrust of intense philosophical debate: it was mostly Neb talking and us listening, with a few interjections by the confident. But then again it was the first class, and who knows the difference between Techne and Episteme anyway? I hold out hope that the parry and thrust will tick up as things proceed.

Oliver’s advice to me on our way to school this morning, on hearing it was my first day of school too: listen, sit quietly, don’t ask too many questions, and no kissing. I’m happy to report that I performed well on all fronts.

Here’s Prince Street in front of our house last night around 10:00 p.m.:

Here’s how all that snow gets cleared away:

And here’s Prince Street twelve hours later, after the snow has been removed:

The Eastern School District will release its School Organization Plan at a meeting of the Board on Wednesday, January 7, 2009 at 3:00 p.m. at the School District Office, 234 Shakespeare Drive, Stratford.

You can no longer purchase winter boots for children in downtown Charlottetown. Every last source is gone, and we’re left with Proude’s (not downtown, but at least not a branch of a Dallas-based conglomerate) and the chain stores at the mall.

New Years Day on Prince Edward Island brought a blizzard the like of which we haven’t seen in a long time. Fortunately the snow wasn’t damp so the power stayed on, and it was a holiday, so the only real hit was the New Years Day levees.

Turning to the CBC on New Years morning to find word about the levees, I was greeted instead by the dulcet tones of Bim and a special national music show. There was a scatterling of local-like news from Halifax on the hours, but otherwise CBC Radio choose to go national for the day, leaving the private radio stations with the job of informing Islanders about the day.

This morning I rolled out of bed at 8:00 a.m. fully expecting a returning Island Morning to give me a sense of what the day held: what’s closed, what’s open, how the Island made it through the storm.

But no. For a second day there was a national feed, with some inane holiday fluff hosted by Rita Celli.

So over to Ocean 100 I flipped, and found them on the case with a constant stream of updates about the weather, the closures, and how we were all doing. Even next door at KROCK they managed to get the closures in between the Robert Plant songs.

So here’s the thing, CBC Radio: either you’re a vital, local information resource, or you’re not. It’s bad enough that local news disappears every weekend, but to take four days off in a row during the biggest winter storm of the season means you’re abdicating your role to the privates.

I’m no big fan of “that was…, coming up…” private radio, but it clearly proved its worth this time around.

Suffice to say, there are no levees in Charlottetown this morning, what with the blizzard and all.

Business of the Year

Taylor’s Taters at the Charlottetown Farmer’s Market. You’ll never find a nicer couple of people to buy your potatoes and carrots from, and they have been unfailingly kind to Oliver over the years. This is their last year at the Market, so visit while you still can.

New Business of the Year

It’s gotta be Leonhard’s Café and Bakery in Charlottetown: excellent service, very good soups, and real bread. It seems that, if anything, they dramatically underestimated how popular they would become and as a result it’s almost impossible to find a table for lunch.

Funnest Activity

Riding the water slide at the Laugardalslaug public pool in Reykjavik. Perhaps the funnest thing I’ve done this decade. (Is funnest actually a word?)

Most Enjoyable Daily Routine

Reading Oliver a bedtime story. We started the year by finishing off the Narnia books and are now making our way through the City of Ember series, with Inkheart queued up behind.

Most Useful Web Application

last.fm. It’s completely changed my relationship to music.

Favourite Television Drama

The only drama I consistently look forward to is The Unit on CBS. It’s about guns and wars and bravado, which wouldn’t usually pull me in. But it was created and is executive produced by David Mamet and its dialogue is very much in the rapid-fire poetry Mamet style. Honourable mentions for Law & Order and ER, both tired old series that have had new life breathed into them this year.

Favourite Television Comedy

The Office. Honourable mention for 30 Rock. Are there other sitcoms?

Saddest Thing

My good friend John Pierce’s untimely death in April. I still think of him every day.

Cities Visited

Cities where I spent at least one night: Berlin, Copenhagen, Halifax, Boston, Peterborough (both Ontario and New Hampshire), Thunder Bay, Reykjavik, Hveragerdi, Borgarbyggð, Napanee, Montreal, Carlisle.

Night of Most Alcohol Consumption

Midsommarafton in Malmö with Olle and Luisa and friends. A great night, fuelled by schnapps and pickled herring and much merriment. First time in a long time that I went to sleep after the sunrise.

Favourite Film

I’ve Loved you So Long.

Best Conference

Zap Your PRAM was amazing. Honourable mention for reboot.

Best Supper Out

Dinner at Lot 30 with Olle, Luisa and Catherine in October.

Best Lunch Out

Chicken shawarma at Boys Shawarma og Isbar in Copenhagen.

Favourite New Beverage

Other than my discovery that (good) coffee is a lot better if you leave out the sugar, Club-Mate was an unexpected discovery, thanks to Tils in Berlin. It’s hard to describe, but I acquired the acquired taste.

Favourite Hack

Plazes Poetry still delights me. Oh, and the OpenCorporations experience was fun.

Best Dessert

Flourless Chocolate Cake at Just Us Girls in Charlottetown.

Places I want to visit in 2009

Istanbul (now that I’ve found you can take the train from London), Bangkok (to catch up with my friend Steve), Norway (because my friend Henriette says I should and because I’m not entirely sure it actually exists). Tajikistan. The Faroe Islands. And maybe parts of Africa and India, because I’m afraid to visit them, and you should always visit the places you’re most afraid to visit.

2008 Carbon from Travel

According to Dopplr, I was responsible for 3,000 kg of carbon dioxide as a result of travel in 2008, exactly the same as the 3,000 kg in 2007.

Distance Walked to Work

Walking Oliver to school every morning, then walking to Casa Mia for coffee, to the office for work, and then back home at the end of the day saw me walking 500 km in total over the year, give or take.

Most Memorable Experience

In late September we spent a week in Iceland. Late one afternoon we drove into Þingvellir, the site of the Icelandic parliament from 930 until 1798, and also the site of a rather dramatic geologic rift. The sky was overcast. We parked the car and walked up the path to the Law Rock; halfway there the heavens opened up with rain and in 5 minutes we were all soaked to the skin. As quickly as it started the rain passed, and everywhere you looked there were rainbows. A magical happenstance in a magical place.

After watching Charley Boorman, partnered with Ewan McGregor, travel around the world in the television series Long Way Round, and from the tip of Scotland to the tip of Africa in Long Way Down, I wasn’t sure what to expect from By Any Means, where a McGregorless Boorman makes his way from Ireland to Australia using a wide variety of means of transport.

And after watching the first episode, where Boorman, his director Russ Malkin and camera operator Paul Mungeam, make their way from Wicklow to the English Channel, I was prepared to give the series a pass: Boorman without McGregor was a little bit like Hardy without Laurel, and I found myself missing the partnership. Something that wasn’t made any better by a cameo by McGregor early in the episode just as the team heads out.

But I decided to give another episode a go, and they’ve managed to bring me around. While billed as a three-man trip, By Any Means is really a solo adventure with a smaller support team: Malkin and Mungeam make occasional appearances, but they’re a supporting cast at best with the focus strongly on Boorman.

And perhaps it just took an episode for Boorman to get the confidence needed to host alone; while the first episode was scattered and Boorman appeared distracted, once things got seriously underway he seemed to perk up, and the trip, and the program, became far more compelling.

I’ll have more to say once they’ve made it all the way to Australia, but if you’re interested in journey-oriented travel television, you might want to check out By Any Means for yourself.

It took me 10 years of living on Prince Edward Island before I felt capable of attending New Years Day levees here in Charlottetown. Initially I was confused about the whole idea (we never had levees in Ontario, at least not in my social class), and then later I was confused by the confounding requirement for a “calling card”:

I was afraid to ask anyone what a “calling card” was for fear of being called out as a neophyte — “Why good sir, have you not a goodly supply of calling cards in your saddle bag? Forsooth every noble Islander has always one at the ready!”

It took my brave friend G., back in 2004, to get me over the hump: he convinced me that I didn’t actually need a calling card at all. And so off we went.

If you are a levee virgin, here’s a friend set of pointers that you might find useful to get you over your own fears and into the levee habit:

• While children generally aren’t taken to levees, everyone else is welcome, regardless of religion, gender, social class, noble rank, etc. Certain levees may feel unusual for certain people for different reasons, but I’ve yet to see anyone not warmly welcomed at each and every levee I’ve attended.
• The proceeding is the same at every levee: you show up at the appointed time and get in line (the later you show up, the longer the line will be). Sometimes you’ll be offered the opportunity to check your coat, sometimes not (it will be obvious). The line generally leads to a receiving line of Important People — the Mayor and Councillors, or the President, or the Premier or the Bishop — who shake your hand and wish you a Happy New Year. At the end of the line there are refreshments on offer.
• The refreshments are vary greatly from levee to levee: sometimes there’s alcohol on offer, sometimes not. Some levees have sandwiches and snacks, some just sweets. You don’t have to pay.
• After milling about for what seems like an appropriate amount of time, you gather your coat if you’ve checked it, and head off to the next levee.
• The role of the “calling card” is to allow the person running the receiving to whisper your name into the name of the Important People (or, sometimes, to just hand them the card so they can greet you by name). Some levees have blank cards and pens available for those without; if you end up without a card, fear not, as you can simply introduce yourself in person.