Winter is here

The Michigan winter can be brutal, and we've been very fortunate the past two years, when we enjoyed mild weather. So far, the winter hasn't been too bad, but since returning from Christmas break, I've definitely felt a shift in temperature! We're now past the stage of cute hats and cozy sweaters. This is real winter. Some signs:

-my doormat is covered with a variety of slushy boots
-white salty streaks magically appear on all of my clothes
-I can hear the disconcerting whirr of cars' spinning wheels on the streets below from my desk
-I have ice on the interior of my car's windshield from the frozen condensation of my breath
-I'm getting reacquainted with my car's low-gear setting

Dave always says that the harsh winter provides incentive to get a lot of work done. So I'll make some hot chocolate and settle in to do some serious interview research. Stay warm, everyone!

success?

I can't believe I survived this semester! Looking back, I can now see how hybristic it was to attempt to accomplish so many things at once. And yet, things seem to have worked out. My dissertation only requires modest revisions before deposit; I have opportunities to discuss my work and teaching with search committees; aside from a few students who are angry at not being awarded an A just for showing up, my students seem to have enjoyed our class; the wedding will happen.

Victory! ...right? Yesterday was the first day I could wake up not feeling completely overwhelmed by the tasks awaiting me that day. And so it became the first day on which I could survey the costs of this kind of lifestyle. I gave up a lot of things I love this semester: singing, cooking, exercising (not that I exactly love it), keeping up with friends, reading fiction, leisure time, personal grooming, sleep. I needed all that time and mental energy to focus on myself and getting myself through each day. In fact, all I did was think about myself.

Turns out that utter self-absorption is not good for a relationship! Dave has been extremely generous and supportive this whole time – he has made me gifts, written me notes, and cared for me so many times. And while I appreciated each act and expressed that to him, I never returned the favor and made him feel cared for and beloved in the ways that he likes. We are very different, which is usually a good thing, but sometimes that means communicating our care for each other requires extra effort. I simply did not have the energy to take that extra step and think about what would make him feel especially cherished or known.

Fortunately, the time in my life of crying about my dissertation is over. But from all indications, the first year or two as a faculty member is even worse than any period in graduate school. In the Humanities, we talk all the time about how studying literature is supposed to help teach us lessons about life and relationships. Funny how a significant part of my dissertation is about the corrosive effects of individual heroism on the home: the very process of heroic success – victory in competition over a worthy but external enemy – is antithetical to wise rule over a stable household. So you'd think I might have been more aware...but no. So here's the challenge: how can we accomplish everything on our to-do lists, while still nurturing and protecting our future marriage? A new year, a fresh start begins soon. Let's see how we do!

Operation WOOF

You astute readers of this blog may recall the summer evening when I met TUCK for the first time. I instantly fell in love with this friendly, curious, yet dignified terrier, and Dave and I have talked about him endlessly since. Sarah B. and her husband are family friends with Tuck's owners, so they have special access to him! Sarah B. – ever attentive, thoughtful, and creative – came up with the best idea for a post-dissertation reward, code-named "Operation Woof." Here's how it played out:

I called Dave after I finished my final meeting for the instructors of my course this afternoon. I was stressed out because I needed to re-grade some final exams to be more in line with the other instructors, finish calculating and then post final grades, etc. But Dave insisted (unusually) that he wanted to come over and hang out later in the afternoon. I can't even remember the last time we spent an afternoon at home, just hanging out. Early September? Late August? So I knew something was up...

But how could I possibly have predicted that when I opened the door at 4:30 pm, on my doorstep I would find this furry friend??

Tuck snuffed his way around the apartment, and then submitted to aggressive petting, hugging, playing, and belly-rubbing. He didn't seem to mind. We even went for a walk in the park before it got dark. Oh Tuck, you are the best dog! I can't tell whether this is too weird to share, but we took a "family photo" together with Tuck (someone else's dog) and Floyd (not-a-real-dog):

Someday, when we have our own kids, we'll laugh about this, I'm sure!

Tuck was only on loan, unfortunately, so we took him back home before dinner, where I tried to ingratiate myself with his owners. Until next time, Tuck. In the meantime, I'm going to savor Tuck's de-stressing effects and remain thankful for such a thoughtful friend!

you can call me doctor (but not *that* kind of doctor)

It's official: I defended my dissertation on Friday morning! Though I still need to deposit a final version in January and graduate in May, I can start calling myself Doctor. But to distinguish myself from my father and brother(s), I've decided I should be:

Dave had these balloons and flowers waiting for me in my apartment when I returned home after the defense! He is so thoughtful. =)


But I get ahead of myself. The defense itself was quite different from what I had expected. I had stayed up late the night before, cursing myself for not having reviewed the fragments of lost archaic epics about Heracles or including certain works on my bibliography. The morning of, I frantically repeated my various spiels to myself as I walked to the department, and almost got hit by careless drivers – twice! The gods were not looking favorably upon me. The four members of my committee met without me for the first fifteen minutes, to determine the shape of the defense, while I paced the hallway in my clicking heels. The committee invited me into the room, and my advisor immediately put me at ease by opening with, "We'd like to discuss how to turn this dissertation into the book." VICTORY!

The next hour and fifteen minutes were devoted to pushing and pulling at my ideas in the dissertation. The committee suggested that I combine two analyses into one, pointed out weaknesses in my discussions, and helped me think through how I will reframe the study for the future (think: violence theory). I won't pretend that I was comfortable, but there's something deeply enjoyable about having four terrific scholars arguing about your work with you. The discussion descended into complaints about certain aspects of the administration of the graduate program, at which point I think the defense was over. ;) The committee shooed me away, and I clicked through the halls again. This time, they invited me back into the room with smiles and handshakes and congratulations. Everyone was packing up to leave, so I had to whisper to my advisor: "Ummm, are we going to talk about revisions?" She said she'd email the committee's comments to me, but that she expects them to be "modest." RELIEF.

I still don't truly believe that I've complete the dissertation and will receive my PhD from this program. There were just so many times over the years when I truly, deeply believed that I should withdraw and find something else to do. But here I am, with a dissertation one of my advisors even said I "should be very proud of." He has never said anything of the sort to me before, so maybe he even meant it! I feel intensely grateful for so many things. My support group has always been there for me – my family and dear friends, who have heard me agonize and cry and despair so many times, and always reassured me that things will work out. Without Dave, I'm not sure I would've made it this far; he always gives me courage and steadiness for the task at hand.

But these things come as no surprise. What does surprise me is the appreciation I felt for my committee and department: scholars who have (loosely) shepherded and guided me from a barely-not-an-undergraduate to someone who could be an assistant professor at a major research institution. I may never become that assistant professor, of course, depending on the job market, but I'm still a bit in shock that the possibility is there. It's also strange to realize that my time at this institution is likely drawing to a close, and I must be ready to move on. To that end, I better get back to grading these final exams and preparing for my job interviews...

so you want a PhD in the humanities?

Everyone who knows me also knows that I have had my doubts about graduate school. It's been a long road, and even as I come to the finish line, I have deeply mixed feelings about the experience. Of course, if I get a wonderful tenure-track job at a place where Dave can also do his research, fantastic! Everyone should get a PhD! It always works out in the end! If I end up scrambling on the VAP/adjunct circuit for the next five to eight years and miss my fertility window? Well, I'll be wearing my bitter pants every day. Clearly, this is an oversimplification, and I choose to believe that I have some measure of control over my destiny. And yet.

Before I came to graduate school, this is how I pictured my life would be:

Beautiful libraries! Big artsy glasses! Contented smiles that go along with the acquisition of both knowledge and wisdom!

There's some truth to that vision (I love the things I've studied; I've acquired a number of beautiful books; my eyesight continually deteriorates, to the extent that I realized last week I should not be driving at night with my glasses, which seriously need an updated prescription). Perhaps equally distorted is the vision offered by reading the Classics job market blog. It is not for the faint of heart (or stomach). A recent conversation in the comments looked like this (warning: strong language):

Anonymous said...
Does anyone know of any job anywhere doing anything for any amount of money I could fucking get with this worthless, piece of shit Classics PhD?

December 7, 2012 6:18 PM

Anonymous said...

Does anyone know of any job anywhere doing anything for any amount of money I could fucking get with this worthless, piece of shit Classics PhD?

Sorry, a lot of us are asking that question. And the answer is -- no, not really.

December 7, 2012 7:04 PM

Anonymous said...

I'm finding that even for minimum wage jobs I have to explain what I've been doing for work in the last few years. There doesn't seem to be any way around that.

And the minute you mention getting a PhD they think you are lying, making fun of them, or that there is something seriously wrong with you. No matter what, you don't get the fucking job.

December 7, 2012 7:29 PM

Anonymous said...

This is a big problem. It's not limited to classics. A good resource, in case anyone's actually interested is
http://versatilephd.com/

December 7, 2012 7:57 PM

Fallen Classicist said...

No. Don't be tempted by versitile phd and the like. Do not think that there are jobs out there for PhDs in classics. Or, better, don't count on it. And do not spend this time of the year thinking about it.

With a PhD in classics you are most qualified to be a classics professor. Not a banker. Not a spy. Not a management consultant. A classicist. The job market is predictable and people actually get jobs. Not as many as we all would like, but still.

There is nothing predictable about a job search outside of classics. There are opportunities out there. Some, certainly, are more lucrative than classics. As noted, I have a classics PhD, and am now working in an entirely different field.

But if your goal is employment, any employment, your best chance is in classics. And the time before the APA is not to be spent wondering what else might be possible. Do that AFTER the APA. Spend your time preparing for interviews, tailoring your letters, and the like.

Now, if you have decided that classics was a mistake and you want to move on, by all means, explore your options, but also give classics a second look. For all its faults, you have trained for it and are qualified for it.

December 7, 2012 8:19 PM

Anonymous said...

Fallen, remember that only 13% of qualified applicants are getting a tenure-track job in Classics each year (on average since 2008). Less than 30% are getting any job at all, including VAPs without benefits, for that same range of time.

And most of us don't have any interviews to prepare for. We're just paying hundreds of dollars we don't have to go to the APA and have cocksuckers like that HC bitch laugh at us under their breath.

December 7, 2012 8:42 PM

 

Anonymous said...

Death is, of course, the best option. Dead people don't even need jobs. But I'm too much of a fucking coward. Seneca is probably rolling over in his grave.

December 7, 2012 10:53 PM

This is almost certainly the naïvete of the first-time job-seeker, but I'm truly planning on not becoming one of these commenters. Before that happens, please, please help me leave the field (though apparently my PhD really is best put to use in the very field that rejects my qualifications), help me leave the work force, whatever it takes! ;) This year I have multiple interviews, so there's still a breath of hope in these sails. I do want to make it in this field, and I'm getting some encouraging signals! But we'll see how I do in January, when the interviews are done, and I stare in vain at the waning battery icon of my cell phone.

The DRESS

The DRESS has been found! I am happy to announce that we ordered the wedding dress today! Sarah B. and I went shopping on Sunday at a new little place in Saline, called White Arbor Bridal. The first dress I tried on was just what I was looking for. SO PLEASED. It will still take a few months to come in, but there should be just enough time to get the dress altered to my liking. I went to the seamstress today to plan for alterations and everything. HURRAY! I'm excited, and also relieved to have one big thing crossed off the list. On to the next...

This is NOT the dress (and not at all similar to the dress), but I wanted to include a picture from the expedition. Here I am in a Pippa-Middleton-knockoff dress. Because who doesn't enjoy pretending to be sister-in-law to the heir to the throne of England? Hehee!

anatomy of a let-down

As all regular readers of this blog are aware, yesterday was the day I submitted the final draft of my dissertation to my committee, ten working days in advance of the actual defense on 14 December. Some of my readers are too aware, having graciously copy-edited dozens of pages for me at the last minute (Julie, Katie, Shuen) or created professional-looking images to replace my crude, preschool-level diagrams (Sarah B.)! I'd like to take a moment to brag: who could ask for a better team? I'm pretty sure most people don't have best friends who are superb writers and editors, send encouraging emails and flowers, and keep track of all the important milestones. I can't believe how fortunate I am. My cousin Ruth emailed me an adorable picture of Apphia every night for the past week; Dave cooked me dinner at home and then brought it to the department, so I wouldn't have to interrupt my work; Brianne delivered freshly baked cookies; everyone was patient with me. Whether from across the world or across the street, I've felt so supported and encouraged by you all! Thank you.

So I'm surprised I don't feel better about this whole situation, now that it's over. Even though the frenzy and concentration is over for now, I don't quite feel relieved or excited. It turns out that it was merely a moment of emotional significance for me, one that doesn't actually change anything. I feel disappointed that my dissertation didn't accomplish all I had hoped for, and at this point, all I see are the things I should've done differently two years ago. Yesterday afternoon, I spent hours wrestling with a printer that would jam every 20 pages (on a document that's 278 pages long), and then a photocopier that kept getting confused until it just plain gave up. And after all that work of perfecting the formatting and eliminating typos, I ended up sending an electronic copy in Word format to my advisor that didn't match the PDF and has continuous footnoting. (Curse you, Openoffice!) And of course, none of my committee members is happy to receive this mammoth and have to read it. By the end of the afternoon, I was just upset.

I'm sure I'll feel better after a couple days of SLEEP and easing back into the rest of my life. I took a first step last night: taking out the trash (all of my trash cans were overflowing! disgusting!). After taking Dave to the airport early this morning, I've been spending all day grading drafts and applying to jobs. Some things don't change, I suppose. In the meantime, it's time to consider what I want to add back into my life, now that I've stripped away everything that wasn't the dissertation. One definite priority: spending time with the family and friends who have been so good to me! I'm going to have to adjust to not being the needy, selfish one, for once... ;)