There are only four weeks left in the semester and I’m starting to feel the crunch. I’ve yet to begin the final project for my Linguistics course. There’s a rather large pile of articles and books for me to read, which will support the yet-to-be-started final project for my Rhetoric and Composition course. Next week, I’ll receive the prompts for the final essays in my Critical Theory course. Meanwhile, I haven’t worked on my AEME assignments since January and I’ve done very little sewing aside from a half-finished corset and 15 hours of hand beading trim for a dress.
My midterm essays for my critical theory class were returned this week. I wrote about reader-response theory for one and Leo Tolstoy’s The Death of Ivan Ilych for the other. They received an A and A-, respectively. While I’m more than content with my grades, I do wonder about the purpose of an A-. What does that minus sign signify?
Over the past two weeks, I also presented at two academic conferences. I took a shortened version of my analysis of the Pardoner from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales to CSU Long Beach. The next week, I cut down my paper on Virginia Woolf’s Jacob’s Room for presentation at CSU Northridge, my home school. Both conferences were vastly enjoyable for me and I look forward to future conference presentations.
I’ll be presenting an original research project (the aforementioned rhet/comp final project) this summer at Anime Expo‘s Anime and Manga Studies Symposium. I have my primary argument and a stockpile of articles, books, and dissertations to read. I just need to find the time to read them, write my analysis, and prepare the web portion before it’s due in May. Oh, and prepare the AX presentation component (but I’m going to worry about that part after the semester ends).
There are four weeks left in the semester. Wish me luck.
I know it’s been quiet here. I don’t have much to say right now. I have a lot of ideas and partially written posts but I just don’t feel the energy to do anything. I haven’t worked on my midterm papers for my classes. I haven’t contributed to the research project I’m working on with my professor. I haven’t prepped either of the conference presentations coming up in a few weeks.
This week was my spring break – a much needed pause from the hectic whirlwind of my graduate life. I should have used that time to complete my rather long list of course-related projects as well as a variety of personal projects. But I didn’t. I just didn’t.
And I don’t feel bad about it. Well, I don’t feel bad about it today. I probably will tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that too. I imagine that my own procrastination will loom over me until the end of the semester.
But today, I don’t feel bad. I needed the rest. I needed to be able to mentally check out and let myself be carried through the week without worrying about due dates.
I’m worn out. I’m exhausted and beaten down and worn out. For once, I don’t want to apologize for it. Tomorrow I probably will but not tonight.
I’m a graduate student and usually that just means I’m pursuing an additional degree specialization beyond a standard B.A. But some days it means that I’m reanalyzing my view of myself and adjusting my expectations of my intelligence in accordance with my peers.
I’m in my second of four semesters pursuing a Masters of English Literature at a local state university. With three grad level courses per semester, my academic muscles get the practice they’ve been sorely lacking since I finished undergrad. I’m pursuing research opportunities, teaching supplemental composition classes, and reading an endless list of CFPs.
But more than that, I’m dismantling the idea that I am “not-( )-enough.” A few weeks ago, I submitted an abstract to a nearby academic conference. The paper I proposed is one that I wrote three years ago and, more likely than not, need to rewrite in the time preceding the conference. I received an invitation to present at this conference yesterday morning and I was floored. It’s not that I expected to be accepted, but that I expected to not be accepted. I was viewing myself as clearly not-(articulate, intelligent, accomplished, etc.)-enough to be accepted to an academic conference. Except that I am.
I’m just beginning to come to terms with what graduate school means about my identity. I’m still navigating the reality of the fact that, not only did I get into a graduate program (technically two, if you count the acceptance to Claremont Graduate University that I turned down two years ago), but I am capable of living a life of academic rigor. And not every day is an easy day. But today, with my first invitation to present at an academic conference, I feel like I am meant for this.
Some days are better than others and I know that there will be days where I feel overwhelmed, unimportant, and unworthy. On those days where I begin to think that I am not-enough, I hope that I can also remember the ways in which I am.