Long ago (1988) I moved to Berkeley and started sending a monthly "newsletter" to my Boston friends. When I returned to Boston (1993), I continued the tradition for about five more years (or until I had kids). Looking back, I realize that I was actually blogging. Each newsletter contained anywhere from a few to several blog posts. Having been silent for the past decade or so, I've decided to resume these activities. Don't expect anything profound -- I tend to focus on what I find entertaining or amusing and perhaps sometimes informative. We shall see!

Sunday, July 14, 2019

The Long Kiss Goodbye

It was the beginning of the end -- my daughter's high school graduation, my last Harvard commencement as a faculty member, and it was my 35th reunion. Unsurprisingly, it was a jumble of emotion.

I was repeatedly asked "how it felt" to march in my last commencement ... but wait -- I get to come back for reunions and march as an alum, so perhaps not my last, but yeah, it was a special one. I was struck by two things in particular: the 25th reunion class were my students!? How could that possibly be? I found it significantly more shocking that I had 25th reunion students than that I was celebrating my 35th reunion. And then there was the national anthem. As I stood listening, I realized that quite possibly, the next national anthem I hear at a Commencement will be O Canada. Sobering. (I spent the afternoon learning the words, in English; the French words will come later.) [My daughter's high school graduation preceded Harvard's and I don't think they played the national anthem, anyway.]

A jumble.

The Harvard Crimson and I have not always been BFFs, but of late, we've had a good relationship. Last year, the commencement issue included a profile of my colleague, former Dean of Harvard College, Harry Lewis. It seemed fitting -- Harry is the heart and soul of computer science at Harvard; he was the Dean of the College; of course they would do a profile piece about him after he'd announced his upcoming retirement (they also did a wonderful piece about him and his wife, Marlyn McGrath Lewis, this year). But it came as a bit of a shock when managing editor, Hannah Natanson, asked if they could do a profile of me for the Commencement issue. I'm sure there is no bias when I say it's the best thing that I've seen the Crimson do. I had a blast working with the reporters, who managed to unearth an impressive array of characters from my past (not all of whom appeared in the final copy, but to whom I am still extraordinarily grateful). I was happy to see that my habit of speaking up was spun in a positive light and that it was referenced by most who wrote; it is, perhaps, the most important thing I've done at Harvard. But most of all,  I am deeply humbled by the piece they produced and the kind words that my friends and colleagues offered. (And while I normally hate watching and listening to myself in video, the video piece, which I missed the first several times, was lovely.)

A jumble.

Our memorial service -- 8:30 AM on Friday morning. We all showed up. In a class of roughly 1600, we've lost 57 classmates. Some were my friends: bandie Larry Millet, fellow Computer Scientists David Brownell, my twin (we share a birthday) and inspirational mathematician, Matthew Bovell. But unsurprisingly, my thoughts turned to Alex, and I found myself silenced and in tears during the final verse of Swing Low Sweet Chariot. Alex should have been graduating. I heard from both his parents in the days leading up to graduation. My heart continues to break for them every time I think of him.

We lost another member of the class of 2018, Luke Tang, during the fall of 2015. While I did not know Luke, I remember that a group of his friends were taking CS61 from me that semester. I still remember where they used to sit in the room and how I wanted to, somehow, be able to ease their pain in the days and weeks after we lost Luke. Until I started writing this blog, I didn't realize the light that came out of this darkness. I've not yet seen the documentary, but I want to. And I want to know why every faculty member hasn't seen this; why it's not discussed; why we continue to keep these stories in the dark.

A jumble.

The SEAS Commencement Reception -- a chance to meet the families of some of my wonderful students. Lots of proud families and many wonderful pictures with my students, my colleagues, their families.

Reunion receptions. Classmates I haven't seen since Freshman year; classmates I've never met; classmates I see regularly. It's all a blur.

A commencement address to the students completing their Master's degrees in Information Technology fields. At the encouragement of the students in my online business analytics program (HBAP) with HBS, I talk about courage, perseverance, and gender equality. I later give that talk to the HBAP cohort at their immersion.

Reunion panels and talks -- the raw, honesty brings us together in a way that four years at Harvard never did. It took thirty-five years of life to create class cohesion so palpable that nearly all of us used the same words afterwards to describe what an amazing reunion it had been.

A jumble.

Then commencement and reunion are over, and it's officially summer.  Israel, Michael Rabin. Weekly lunches with my group. Birthday cakes. Many, many coffee, breakfast, and lunch dates with friends and colleagues. The Harvard club of Rochester, an awkward coming home of sorts, but a fabulous group of people. Marlyn and Harry, the two who have been with me since before I was admitted to  Harvard and until now, celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. Teagan takes me to see Dirty Dancing. Soccer. A going away party with the chucks. DE Shaw Research; MongoDB World. More lunches with my students. More soccer. Usenix annual tech. DC. DARPA deliverables. Late nights and long weekends leading up to DARPA deliverables. More lunches with students. The Eagles. An outing to Kimball Farms with the Oracle crew. Dinners with friends. Soccer. USWNT in Hartford. The quintessential NYC experience: waiting in line for six hours in a torrential downpour for Hamilton tickets; success! ISAT in Wood's Hole. My students begin departing -- to home, to Africa, to NYC. Students slowly return to campus. My last week; Teagan's first. Heat. Humidity. More heat. Boxes. Drinks with colleagues. More boxes. Pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. Pictures from a life time ago.

Wednesday, July 10, 2019

Live from Lyon: USA v Netherlands

In a bit of a departure from prior entries, allow me to indulge a bit in trying to explain my fascination with the Women's World Cup. Alternately, you can think of this post as, "What the Women's World Cup Means to Me."

I grew up in a pretty anti-sports household. In my family, education was what mattered. Entertainment could be found in board or card games; ironically, even reading for pleasure wasn't particularly emphasized. My brothers, or at least one of them, wrestled. One played pool. I bowled (that would be 10-pin, thank you very much). Title IX was a law by the time I was 11, but it wasn't a reality. I swam competitively for a bit in middle school, but if truth be told, my most athletic pursuit was, I kid you not, cheerleading!

As you might imagine, spectator sports were also not a big thing. As a typical horse-crazed girl I did watch the triple crown every year, read every black stallion book on the planet multiple times, and sometimes fantasized about being a jockey, but um, well, they were all male.

Fast forward to my young professional life. In 1985, two years out of college and working for a tech company (Stratus), a bunch of twenty-somethings started playing pickup soccer at work. I joined for the social aspect, but something about the game and the skill of some of the other women on the field attracted me, so in the fall of 1985 I went looking for a women's soccer team, and I was lucky enough to find the Charles River Women's soccer club, now known as, "The Chucks."

I was never great at soccer, but I loved it. I loved being part of a team, watching how coordinated play could turn individuals into a functioning unit. Three years later, when I moved to Berkeley for grad school, I set out to find a team and ultimately started the Berkeley Bruisers with Nancy Geimer (who I met at tryouts for another team in the area). I could write at great length about the Bruisers, but suffice it to say that while one of a tiny number of women in graduate school, the Bruisers gave me a group of diverse, talented, and athletic female friends and two non-computer science male friends -- coaches Jim and Andy!

Fast forward to 1999. The Women's World Cup is in the US! (Who even knew there was such a thing as a women's world cup???) I bought tickets for the games in Foxboro. To this day, I still remember the wave of emotion that swept over me as the US women took the field. I got it. These were people like me doing something I loved. And they did it at a level I'd never seen before. Suddenly, I understood spectator sports in a way I never had.

I watched the 1999 final from the comfort of my living room with my 18 month-old beer-swigging son, who dubbed the sport "mommy ball." He'd been coming to games from the time he was four months old (there being little soccer in New England between December and April). For a good year or two afterward, the only television my son watched was the 1999 world cup final and then, because my husband couldn't bear one more viewing, VHS tapes from the '91, '95, and '99 world cups. By the time he was five, my son knew every goal ever scored by the US in a world cup. And I had fallen for Michelle Akers, Mia Hamm, Joy Fawcett (who I had actually seen play as a student at Berkeley), Kristine Lilly, and Brandi Chastain (who, BTW, sat in the row in front of me on my flight from Lyon to Munich).

WUSA happened, and I have to confess, I kind of missed it. I was a mom with two small kids and a desperately-seeking-tenure professor. In 2003, when the women's world cup returned to the US, due to the SARS outbreak in China, I decided that I was going to see the final in person. By sheer dumb luck (and a wonderful travel agent), my son and I ended up in the hotel where the German, Swedish, and Canadian teams were staying. It was the weekend of a lifetime. We hung out in the lobby with players, got autographs, cheered on both Germany and Sweden before and after their matches, and came home with Silke Rottenberg's Goalie Gloves.

When WUSA folded, I felt that I had failed. If I, a soccer playing, 99er-loving fan, hadn't been attending games, is it no wonder the league didn't make it? (I will lay some of the blame on WUSA marketing as well.) So, when the WPS was created, I become a devoted fan -- I had season tickets to the Boston Breakers every year. I actively bid for Project Pink team jerseys, and I started traveling to see the USWNT.

I took both kids to the 2004 farewell match for Mia, Joy, and Brandi. I went to Cincinnati on crutches to see Kristine Lilly's last international goal. And thanks to the encouragement of former Chucks' goalie, Becks Ruck, I started attending the Women's World Cup.

2007 Game in Hartford
In 2011, my son, Becks, and I did the first round USA games, training around Germany, hanging out at the traveling ESPN. And we got to chat with Abby Wambach.

2011 Women's World Cup: Dresden




In 2012, I had the incredible honor to be on a panel with Kristine Lilly. 

In 2013, I wrote a tribute to the USWNT.

In 2015, I did the entire Women's World Cup in Canada: more games than I can remember, but all catalogued here.

And, as you know, if you've read this far, I just finished my 2019 French Odyssey. This one turned out to be about so much more than soccer -- it was about gender equality, inclusion, equal pay, and so much more. When is the last time that A) the chant from the crowd at a final sporting event was, "Equal Pay." and B) the leaders of the organization sponsoring the event were uniformly and unanimously boo'd? (And as you know, my feelings about the FIFA museum were pretty negative.) Megan Rapinoe is the new face of women's soccer, equality, gay rights, inclusion, you name it!

If you have not read any of the news coming out of the tournament -- your assigned reading is just three articles -- any three from any of a gazillion reputable news sources. Just search for "USWNT wins World Cup." Each one brings something different, but the message is consistent and unmistakable -- this wasn't just about winning a soccer tournament, this was about changing the world.


And without further ado, the final: USA vs the Netherlands

Although relative newcomers to the Women's World Cup (this was only their second appearance), the Netherlands are the reigning European champs and the USA are the reigning world champions -- sounds like a great match. Our seats in the very uppermost row, smack center behind the Dutch goal in the first half, provided a surprisingly good view of the field.

The US began its game as it has this entire tournament -- putting pressure on the opponent's defense -- zippy runs up the right side by Megan Rapinoe; dazzling footwork by Rose Lavalle; crosses from Tobin Heath. However, the Dutch were able to do what no other team had done this tournament: hold the US scoreless - for 15 minutes; 30 minutes; the whole first half; sixty minutes! It was a hotly contested match -- the US kept the ball in its attacking half for most of that time, but the Dutch looked threatening regularly, and it certainly wasn't a calm and comfortable game, by any stretch. And then, in the 61st minute, the VAR suggested a look at a tackle inside the Dutch box, and sure enough, contact between Stefanie van der Gragt and Alex Morgan was deemed penalty-worthy. And there she stood, Megan Rapinoe, at the penalty spot for the third time, and for the third time, she nailed it.

1-0 USA.

As if to say, "We didn't need the PK to win this match," eight minutes later Rose Lavalle did what Rose Lavalle does and single-handedly sliced and diced the Dutch defense to lay in a rocket of a shot.

2-0 USA!

And then, unlike in earlier knock out round games, the USA did not sink back into a defensive posture but continued pushing and dazzling. There were at least three different attacks that looked like certain goals, but Dutch keeper, Sari van Veenendaal, who unsurprisingly won the Golden Glove award (best goal keeping), was superb, using every part of her body to block the stream of shots. The onslaught continued until the final ten minutes, when even this devoted fan kind of wanted to boo the time-wasting behavior of the US.

But then it was all over and the USA had done it -- retained their crown, become the second team (after Germany) to win back to back world cups, and earned their fourth star.



The Dutch team had earned the respect of the entire crowd and it was heartwarming to see the entire stadium honor them as they did their lap around the stadium. There was great rejoicing, celebration, and ultimately, the US team receiving the World Cup trophy, being showered with glitter, and celebrated with fireworks. (Smugmug link with password wwc2019final)

And not just one selfie this time, but a collage of meet-ups with all my "World Cup" buddies.

The Olson Family Becks -- my stalwart World Cup Buddy
Beth Martens and Family Former Bruisers: Nancy Geimer and Chris Vance


A few backstories seem required. I opened this year's tournament with Mike and Teresa Olson in Paris. We met up several times in Paris as we each dashed off to do different side trips and then all met again at Lyon with their whole family (kids and partners), and we celebrated the victory afterwards with them and Teresa's sister's family.

Becks was a Charles River teammate (and awesome goalie) who started me off on my World Cup Odysseys in 2011 -- I remain grateful!

Chris and Nancy were Berkeley Bruisers and in 2011, we had made no prior arrangements to get together. Becks and I got to the game in Dresden early and were pretty much sitting alone in an entire section when two women happened to be in the seats immediately behind us -- they were Nancy and Chris! Since then, we've tried to meet up at some point during our respective World Cup journeys.

And, in 2015, I discovered that teammate Beth Martens was in Vancouver with her family, and we enjoyed a pre-final boat trip down the Indian Arm together. Although this photo was taken at the airport, we did meet up outside the stadium.

And that's a wrap on the 2019 Women's World Cup. If you are fortunate enough to have a local NWSL team -- support them! Keep your eyes on the press about the USWNT equal pay lawsuit. Tell FIFA gender discrimination isn't good business.

Saturday, July 6, 2019

Live from Regusse: It's the Lower Verdon Gorges

As if we weren't gluttons enough for punishment yesterday. Today we set out for a more mellow hike, The Lower Verdon Gorges walk. This was only about a 20 minute drive from the house (a request from me) and went along an old canal and the lower part of the Verdon Gorge and then rapidly climbed up to the top of an impressive wall and then along the top and eventually a fairly slow descent. All told, just a bit over 2.5 hours and way less impressive statistics: 18,000 steps, 7 miles and only 63 floors

The most spectacular thing about this walk is how vividly you can see the color of the water.




At the end of the hike, we ended up high enough to see the gorge as well as the dam, just a bit off to the right, not to mention the picturesque village across the hill.





After we finished our hike (18,000 steps; 7 miles; 63 floors all in 2 hours 45 minutes), we took a double kayak up through the gorge where we had hiked. It was aimply stunning (as well as wonderfully cooling).

And then, of course, we came back to the house so we could watch the consolation match: Sweden versus England. Sweden looked the more powerful and intimidating the first half and took a 2-0 lead after 22 minutes; England then came back like gangbusters with a gorgeous goal in the 31st minute and what looked to be a second goal only minutes later. But in a deja vu moment, the ref motioned the VAR signed, reviewed the play and determined (correctly, IMHO) that there had been a handball. This must have been devastating after what happened in the US game (goal disallowed due to an offsides by a hairbreadth margin).

The second half looked eerily like many of the recent US games, with Sweden compacting back into a 5-person defensive line and simply taking a pummeling. However, as the US has done, Sweden held fast and the 2-1 score held until the end. Tough break for England, happy day for Lindahl (keeper) who is probably playing in her last world cup.

Friday, July 5, 2019

Live from Regusse: It's the Blanc Martel Trail

No soccer today, you'd think it would be a day of rest? Alors!

Yesterday, we drove from Lyon down to the beautiful small town of Regusse, in the heart of Provence. Becks found us a fantastic two bedroom AirBnb with a luxurious bathroom, a washer and dryer, a swimming pool, and the most delightful hosts imaginable. They made it feel like a combination of a real BnB as well as being guests in someone's home. Highly recommended!

Anyway, Becks had identified, and our hosts confirmed, that the hike to do was the Blanc Martel Trail through the Verdon Gorge. Here is a snapshot of what we did:

Basically, we hiked down a deep deep gorge, went up  and down a lot (more than I expected) and the hiked back up. Total stats: 4.5 hours 28,000 steps, 11.8 miles, and 149 "ascending flights."

Here are some photos of the view from various elevations:

View down the gorge from about half way up.down.
View of the river from almost the bottom
Looking down the gorge from somewhere near the top
At the end, we went through a long tunnel and this was one of the lookouts Vertical view of the lake leading into the gorge
On the drive home, we stopped at the lookout to see the lake
 

Thursday, July 4, 2019

Live from Lyon: Netherlands vs Sweden

Wednesday's disappointing contest failed to match up to the entertainment, the quality or the intense atmosphere that was seen in Tuesday's gripping tie between England and three-time champions the USA.

That kind of sums it up!

The good news is that we did not have the annoying fans behind us. The bad news is that's because it would have been impossible -- you see, we were in the very last row -- underneath the big screen, which turned out to be kind of cool, because it was such a distinctive location that the Olsons could spot us from across the stadium! Those teeny tiny  people down there are actually soccer players!




So, maybe it was the late night on Tuesday (we should have just walked from the station, but after getting food and realizing the metro was shut down, we tried an Uber who couldn't find us and then finally stood in line for a taxi -- it was a very late night), or maybe it was the hike we took up to the Basilica which sits atop a somewhat large hill.


In any case, it could have been my low energy, but I thought it was a pretty dull game. And we might just have left during the first over time period when the Netherlands scored its first (and what turned out to be the only) goal of the match.

You see the game was 0-0 at the end of 90 minutes. Now, the USA-China Women's World Cup final was also 0-0 after 90 minutes (and still after 120), but that was an exhilarating match to watch; this one was not. I thought Sweden looked more threatening, although the statistics would show that the Netherlands had more possession, more shots, and better passing accuracy.

We almost left after the end of regulation time, but decided to stay for one of the overtimes, and we were privy to the lovely goal scored by the Netherlands. While on the tram back to the city, we watched the final minutes tick down to the final 1-0 score.

So now we're off to Regusse for some hiking and R&R, before returning to Lyon for the final on Sunday!  (No, we won't be attending the consolation match, but hope to be watching it from the comfort of our lovely AirBnb.)

And, the post wouldn't be complete without the obligatory game selfie.



Wednesday, July 3, 2019

Live from Lyon: USA versus England

It was certainly a game worthy of a semi-final!

We were in the nosebleed section: directly underneath one of the enormous screens in the corner of the stadium. It did provide a beautiful view of the field, but those players did look quite tiny!



And then there were the fans behind us -- one Engand fan and one American Fan. Mr. English had one of those loud booming voices that droned in my head for hours after the match. Now, I'm all for supporting your team, but this guy was a running commentary telling every player on the field what they should be doing -- loudly, in my ear. As if they could hear him!? My favorite moment came when the ref called for a VAR review and he started complaining about it, not realizing that it could mean England was about to get a PK. The only thing worse than a loud and annoying fan is one who doesn't actually understand what's going on.

Then there was Ms. America, who cheered as if she were best buds and teammates with every American on the team. She had cute nicknames for every US player and she too felt that they needed coaching from the uppermost portions of the stadium.

OK, enough whining -- it was the Women's World Cup Semifinal and the USA were taking on a very tough English side. Both teams were missing key players. For the USA, Rapinoe, who was the only player to have scored any goals in the last two games, was sidelined with a hamstring injury. For England, their awesome starting keeper, Karen Bardsley, was also sidelined. Tough break for both teams.

The US got off to a pretty strong start -- perhaps their best in the knockout stage. They were moving the ball well, maintaining possession, and looking threatening. And sure enough, in what has been a hallmark of this tournament, the US struck early: in the 10th minute, Christen Press (the Rapinoe sub), headed in a beautiful cross from Kelly O'Hara, set up from a gorgeous Tobin Heath pass that Rose Lavelle dummied to let it run into the corner. It was a spectacularly beautiful build up and finish.

At that moment, it looked like it was going to be the USA team of yore -- easily handling a feisty opponent, but that was a drastic underestimate of the Lionesses (who can not love a team called the Lionesses???). Only nine minutes later, their golden-boot contender, Ellen White, executed an equally beautiful goal. Somehow she sneaked into the middle of the defense to collect a well-placed cross from Mead and send it smashing into the goal. Uh oh, perhaps England had other ideas than a romp in the park for the US ...

The game quickly became an intense back and forth, full field game. And then, after a fast-paced thirty minutes, it was Alex Morgan's turn to finish with a beautiful header, served up from outside by Lindsay Horan (reappearing in the starting lineup after having been omitted for the past two games). And it was 2-1 that the USA and England closed out the half.

The second half got even more exciting. In I believe the following order:
  • England appeared to tie up the game in the 70th minute with another Ellen White goal But the Americans were saved by the VAR, when White was ruled offsides. The vast majority of the 53,000 in attendance gave a collective sigh of relief.
  • The next VAR decision in the 82nd minute, was not so good for the US -- after some commotion in the US box that left Naeher (goalie) sprawled on the goal line, the VAR alerted the ref to a potential foul ... and sure enough, further review turned into a PK for England! And this is where Naeher earned her entire paycheck for the year -- she went to her right and managed to collect Steph Houghton's PK! It was still 2-1.
  • I think this was more than England could handle. The game took at a turn for the more aggressive (and terrifying as England pummeled the US goal and its 5-man back line that magically happened after the offside goal-- or in the words of the NYT, " That scare [the offside no-goal] was the Bat Signal for a five-player back line.") Finally, in the 86th minute, a frustrated Millie Bright went in cleats up on Alex Morgan, earning her second yellow card, which means a red, which means an ejection (p17), and England was down to ten players.
And of course, today's selfie with longtime WWC partner, Becks Ruck.