The Tortoise and the Hare

I have never been late for anything in my grad program. I'm on time for every class and meeting. I've even been known to turn assignments in early. I take a lot of pride in being reliable and respectful of other peoples' time.

So when I walked in late to my own talk yesterday, I WANTED TO DIE. Yes, there was a good reason: Billy and I got held up by a parking predicament that resulted in us practically sprinting across campus. But when I walked in, one of my co-panelists had already begun giving her paper, and I had to slide into my seat at the front of the room. I was out of breath, I was nearly breaking a sweat, and I really wanted to melt right into the floor.

It took me about ten minutes of staring at the speaker before I could bear to look up at the audience. That only made it worse, because so many people came.

I managed to compose myself before it was my turn to speak. I had a really hard time looking up during my talk, though, because seeing everyone there made me feel really emotional and humbled. Every time I looked up, someone would give me an encouraging "you're doing great!" look and I could feel the lump in the back of my throat grow. I hope it will be easier to give the talk to a bunch of strangers in Cleveland.

It made me feel better knowing Billy was there. I knew that he would tell me he was proud of me no matter how I felt about the session. Afterward, we were able to talk about how different the hard sciences are from literary studies, and how we share the same level of intellectual curiosity but apply that curiosity in completely different ways. It was great to feel like he understands a little bit more about what I do.

It also meant a lot to me to have so many of my classmates there. In some ways, they feel like older siblings. People say the middle child in a family gets the raw deal, but that has never felt accurate to me. I have always had an older sibling to lead the way and a younger sibling to follow in my footsteps, and I've always been conscious of both of those things. I only really understand myself or my place in the world relationally.

Many of my classmates are a lot further along in their thinking than I am. I am definitely taking the tortoise approach to literary studies, but rather than making me feel inferior, these people encourage me and push me along in my work while also demonstrating through their own work how much further I have to go. After I gave my paper, several of my classmates asked me thoughtful and insightful questions. I'm don't really think I gave good answers to any of them, but they all gave me important things to think about. Some of our professors say that our program needs to be more "cutthroat," but I don't think so. We take a genuine interest in one another's work, and we focus on giving one another constructive, insightful criticism. I do my best work when I'm encouraged, so I have been able to do great work here.

In the fall, my director suggested that I should apply to the PhD program at Johns Hopkins in addition to our own. My first reaction was to think "Wow, I really have fooled her into thinking I'm smarter than I actually am," and my second reaction was to realize that I could never finish at a program so well known for it's competitive nature. In some ways, it was unfortunate that I could only apply to Maryland, but really, this is the only place I can imagine continuing. This is the place where I feel like my chances of finishing are the greatest. I am a Terp.

I want to thank these people publicly, because although only a few of them follow my blog, I believe that language is performative. When we put words out into the world, they make a difference. So thank you, Billy, Anne-Marie, Katie, Nate, Porter, Lew, Peter, Jenn, Michelle, Dr. Richardson, and Dr. Coletti for coming to hear me talk. For taking an interest in the work I'm doing. For asking me questions that will keep me thinking. For making me feel like Maryland is the very best place for me to be. And for making me forget, momentarily, that I had shown up late to my own presentation.

(The Tortoise and the Hare could be the story of my life. I get everywhere slowly, but I don't stop moving. It always seems fitting to me that Marland's mascot, the Terrapin, is a turtle.)