a busy season

It's hard to believe that it's really here: the hunt for a job offer. Before I came to graduate school, I dated a humanities PhD student who was on the academic job market for the first time. Needless to say, it left me somewhat traumatized and deeply anxious about my own future employment situation – starting 7 years ago. And now the time is here: I have several campus visits lined up. I'm polishing the talk, revamping the handout, editing the slides. I'm preparing my teaching demos, researching faculty interests, and starting to imagine myself here, there, or somewhere in between. Part of me wants to ask, how did this happen already? The other part of me reminds me: oh, about seven years of hard work (and I'm even getting the right husband out of it, too!).

I was feeling paralyzed and overwhelmed by it all last week. Too paralyzed even to blog about it. I'm not ready! I'm just a diversity candidate! They'll find out that I'm too young or not what they want or a total red-faced Asian when I drink! How on earth can I possibly the survive the scrutiny I will receive over the next six weeks? Then my dad reminded me, "It's just six weeks." That's right: six weeks. I can do this! It's just "a busy season," right? With all the travel, snatching of sleep, and frantic hand-washing, it will all be over before I know it. It's a little microcosm of this blog's subtitle: "seven campus visits. four performances of beethoven's 9th. one bridal shower. one job offer. six weeks. let's go!"

I'm off to my first school on Tuesday. Wish me luck!

Seattle snapshots

Most of my time in Seattle last weekend was occupied with sweating, pacing, and hand-wringing. But once the interviews were done, we had time to do a little sightseeing! It had been a long time since we'd taken a full day off just to explore a new place together, so it was especially enjoyable. Here are a few highlights:

The famous Pike Place Market – no fish were being (purchased or) thrown during our visit, though!

Delicious fishes

 D.J. and Ashley came downtown to eat dinner with us. Here we are in front of the very first Starbucks!

We had the opportunity to visit with relatives from my dad's side of the family: my dad's aunt and uncle, and cousin and her husband (and two rambunctious boys).

 Pioneer Square, very Pacific Northwest

 This is a picture from the "Underground Tour" of a section of downtown below the street level. Apparently, Seattle was originally built at sea level, which was a huge mistake because of the tides; after the city burned down in the 1890s, they backfilled the whole downtown area and built on top, leaving some areas below still accessible.

 Seattle Central Library (Rem Koolhaas, 2004)

 Olympic Sculpture Garden

And of course, the iconic Space Needle!

We wish we had had more time to get to know Seattle better. I guess we'll just have to go back! Next time, I want to go in the summer, when we can hike in the mountains and go on the water.

Save-the-dates

We are woefully behind on our wedding planning. It seems we've been preoccupied with other tasks! One big priority post-job-interviews has been getting out our Save-the-Dates. I love getting magnets or beautiful postcards to put on the refrigerator. But there is no time for that! The wedding is only 4.5 months away!

So I've been trying to design myself a nice image that we can email to our friends and family as we solicit their physical addresses for the formal invitation. I had originally envisioned a modern-looking graphic image that contained our names, but not our picture. But Dave (and everyone else I talked to) liked the picture idea, and they are so right! I won't post the official Save-the-Date here, but I did want to share the background image. It's one of our favorite pictures of us. This is a self-timed photo from northern Michigan in September 2011. The original colors were brighter (and more blue), but I gave it an old-timey wash – must be the pernicious influence of Instagram!

We had just finished a long drive up north and were eager to go for a walk along the shore while the sun was setting. Dave spotted the big driftwood, and the magical moment was captured! It's hard to look relaxed in posed pictures, and we like how this one has a more casual feel. I hope it gets people excited for the wedding!

post mortem

The annual meeting of my professional organization is over, and I can now happily report that I survived my interviews in one piece. Although it was probably the most stressful weekend of my graduate career, I feel relatively at peace about the whole experience. I made a lot of mistakes, but I also learned a great deal – about myself as a scholar and teacher, and about the field and career more generally.

Some things not to like about interviewing:

• walking into a room full of strangers whose identity and disposition were previously not established
• probing, openly doubtful questions about the value of the research you've spent years on
• strange or incomprehensible questions that may or may not sink your chances at getting a job
• waiting outside hotel rooms and bumping into the same candidates over and over again because you're all competing for the same jobs

Some things to like about interviewing:

• it's a great opportunity to inflict your ideas on unsuspecting scholars from all over the country
• a narcissist's dream: talking about oneself ALL DAY LONG
• the chance to see what different kinds of academics value about their colleagues and institutions – is the most important thing the freedom to grow into whatever kind of scholar you want? or to be surrounded by the smartest colleagues? or to have the brightest students? or to live in the most desirable (however you define it) location?

Everyone has been asking me, "How did it go?" But it's nearly impossible for the candidate to know. The friendly and kind committees will smile and nod, no matter how stupid your answer is; the challenging and pushy committees will frown and ask a follow-up question, no matter how brilliant your answer is. I experienced occasional brain-freeze, but usually had some sort of answer for the questions that came up. I still don't know whether those answers went over well, or not. But at least I enjoyed some memorable moments: the interview in which an older committee member asked one inscrutable question, and then promptly fell asleep on the table; the interview when I was asked about my methodology of early Aegean archaeology, and gave some answer in which I mumbled "Linear B" three times; the interview in which I was asked whether the approximately four Asians in the field had a secret "cool club," etc. etc.

2013

Ready for the new year? When I created this blog, I imagined that it would document a year of my life: May 2012-May 2013. I can't believe that more than half of that year is already over! When I look ahead to 2013, I see some "anchor events" that are inevitable: graduation, wedding, summer travel. But after August, I see a huge blank. Will Dave and I be professors at the same school? Will I be living far away from him for at least a year or two? Will I still be in Ann Arbor, continuing much the same life? I won't know for several more months, and the suspense is killing me! ;)

Dave and I were discussing our New Year's resolutions last night. Well, our lack of resolutions. We both feel that we have enough goals to accomplish this year as it is! I've got to get a job, or position myself to be even more competitive for next year's job market, in addition to planning the wedding and teaching. Dave has multiple grants to write and some big papers to push out, in addition to planning the wedding. Our lives right now are so focused on preparing for the future, which requires sacrifice in the present. If there's one thing I'd like to resolve, it's to "stop and smell the roses" whenever possible. I don't think that has to mean that I take a lot of time off work to go for long walks by the river. But I want to be able to savor the small moments along the way!

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...