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Machines of Loving Grace
An essay about technological interventions, and the birth and loss of child.
Last year, at a Panera-catered “new faculty appreciation” luncheon, the Dean of my college told me—as I folded my hands across my seven-months-pregnant belly—that I should look for long-term academic employment elsewhere. Yet, I am shocked when AI does not stop Outlook Messenger from bursting confetti across my desktop in response to the Congratulations reply I receive when HR misreads my email about both adding and removing our late son from my health insurance. This fall I sit in class with them, smiling as laughter bubbles from the corners of their mouths in response to the recording I play of Richard Brautigan reciting this poem:
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