Well, I completely failed on the twelve days of blogging. My apologies. But, by way of explanation, the blogging failure was part of an effort not to fail in a different enterprise--namely, my Ph.D. comprehensive exams.
I have been avoiding these exams for two years. Beyond their significance as daunting tests in their own right, they had come to signify for me a crucial and irreversible declaration of professional intent which I was reluctant to make. Not only was I torn between medieval and nineteenth century literature as areas of specialization, but I was also torn between motherhood and academia as seeming rivals for my attention. Thus I delayed comps three times.
-I deferred from March 2011 to October 2011 because of conflict over specialization and the workload of teaching English 101.
-I deferred from October 2011 to October 2012 on a leave of absence for our move to Texas and the birth of Corin.
-I deferred from October 2012 to March 2013 because I felt unprepared.
Explaining why reaches back over a decade. To be brief, I went to Rice intending to become a doctor. English had always been my strongest subject in high school, but it never occurred to me to pursue it in college. It came naturally, therefore I assumed that it must be “easy” and focused on science instead, which was the more prestigious thing to do, especially for a woman. I added a major in medieval studies almost on a whim, and even when I dropped my biochemistry major to study abroad and graduate early, I had fulfilled all pre-medical requirements and intended to go to medical school. It was not until after graduation and mid-way through the med school application process that I changed my mind and found myself with a very odd degree and no idea what to do with it. A nearly random comment from a Rice professor who was writing a med school letter of recommendation for me directed me to graduate school in English as a possibility, and I pursued it without much practical idea of what it involved. I focused on medieval literature ostensibly because my undergraduate work gave me some familiarity with the period’s history, but, really, I did not know enough about English literature as a whole to choose any other option. By the time I reached my Ph.D. coursework, though, I had the nagging suspicion that medieval literature was not, in fact, my favorite, but switching had definite risks. I had taken at least seven courses on medieval topics in addition to passing a medieval comprehensive exam as part of my master’s degree. I had only three courses which included eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British literature. Furthermore, I had a viable dissertation idea in the medieval field. I hadn’t a clue in the other. The format of Ph.D. comps had changed during my coursework to become more specialization-oriented. If I were to switch periods, I would need a massive self-study regimen.
That prospect was so intimidating and the process of moving so consuming that I did nothing academic for the first six months of my leave of absence. In the spring, I read one long novel but then got distracted with other things. I was embarrassed at how little I had done, yet I was reluctant to do more. The kids required so much effort, and I genuinely enjoyed giving it. If I was happy being “just mommy,” why try to be something else? It was so tempting at that time to compose a letter saying that “while I appreciated the opportunities I had had at CUA, I could not give both my studies and my children the level of effort that I felt each deserved, and so I was choosing to devote these few, fleeting years entirely to my family.” There was a sense of relief in thinking of such a letter. Yet I never wrote it.
Then, in June, my grandfather passed away. Of the many pictures I saw in the days after his passing, one that stuck with me was a snapshot of hm and me on the day of my master’s graduation ceremony. In it, I am looking down, messing with my regalia, but he is looking at me and smiling with pride. I felt that I had to continue, and I wrote to my adviser.
I made a reading list in August and received her feedback in early September. I read through a quarter to a third of my list by early November, but then I hit a wall in exhaustion. I was studying largely while rocking Corin during morning naps on Lily’s preschool days, and in the evenings, sometimes in the interval between dinner and the kids’ bedtime, but mostly after the kids went to sleep. When the kids had a rough night, I could be up until 2 or 3 a.m. trying to hit my reading goal. When Corin had to be held in order to stay asleep, I could read, but I could not take notes. I thought that my best case scenario would be passing one, maybe two out of three exams. I could not see how I would pass all three. Yet I also knew that I had delayed quite a long time, and each delay not only weakened my credibility with administrators, but also made it harder for me to get back into the swing of academic life-- the habits and speed of reading, the familiarity with authors and critics, the continual practice of comprehension, explanation, and reasoned argument. When I inquired about registration, though, I learned to my surprise that my original leave had expired and that I would have to be reinstated. My adviser had allowed me to defer the exams that third time, but neither of us knew that we needed additional paperwork or permission. Thankfully, however, the Dean was willing to rush my reinstatement through in time for me to register, and I got my letter of reinstatement the week before Christmas. Thus the blogs stopped and the study began with renewed intensity.
I kept on reading during Corin’s naps and in the evenings. Matt took a few days off to watch the kids and give me “study days.” Kelsey Schumaker, a family friend, came for four days in January, and my Mom came for a weekend in March. Between September-October and December-mid March, I read 18 novels, 4 nonfiction books, and 58 essays or prose excerpts for the first time, along with 130 poems, most of them new, 2 book-length narrative poems, and 34 essays or excerpts of literary theory. I also re-read 3 additional novels and read large portions of 11 scholarly books and 2 scholarly articles. Our rough estimate is that I read at least 10,000 pages. I took 159 pages of notes.
I spoke with my adviser again in late January. She was so encouraging that I began to think, for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, I might pass all three exams. In some ways, that was exhilarating. In others, it was more stressful. I had gone some way toward reconciling myself to the prospect of probable failure on at least one exam. I was working within real limits, and it was not necessarily a shame to take more than one try at a specialization that I had largely taught myself.
Before we left for DC almost two weeks ago, I was reluctant to post anything about comps just yet, even if I had had the time. I have also delayed it a bit since we returned, not wanting to answer questions about how I thought I did.
But, this evening, I got an email from the director of graduate studies in English. I passed all three exams.
I cannot adequately tell you what this means to me. I have been writing this blog post for almost four hours, and I still don’t think that it says quite what it ought. My parents and friends tell me that they never doubted me, and I am truly grateful for their confidence, but oh! I doubted myself! I doubted myself for two years, and I had to drag myself almost unwillingly out of maternal retirement to face that doubt down. I feel like passing these exams is a victory, not a grade-- a victory not over the exams, but over myself. Comps represented a declaration of professional intent which I had been reluctant to make. Now I have made it. I am a legitimate specialist in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British literature. I am also a specialist in cloth diapers, sewing projects, homemade baby food, bedtime stories, nursing, and more. A colleague at CUA had a t-shirt from a website called “The Art of Manliness” which read “Gentleman and Scholar.” That is an excellent thing to be, certainly, but it is obviously not possible for me. Instead, I am a Mother and Scholar, and I think that is pretty damn cool.
I have been avoiding these exams for two years. Beyond their significance as daunting tests in their own right, they had come to signify for me a crucial and irreversible declaration of professional intent which I was reluctant to make. Not only was I torn between medieval and nineteenth century literature as areas of specialization, but I was also torn between motherhood and academia as seeming rivals for my attention. Thus I delayed comps three times.
-I deferred from March 2011 to October 2011 because of conflict over specialization and the workload of teaching English 101.
-I deferred from October 2011 to October 2012 on a leave of absence for our move to Texas and the birth of Corin.
-I deferred from October 2012 to March 2013 because I felt unprepared.
Explaining why reaches back over a decade. To be brief, I went to Rice intending to become a doctor. English had always been my strongest subject in high school, but it never occurred to me to pursue it in college. It came naturally, therefore I assumed that it must be “easy” and focused on science instead, which was the more prestigious thing to do, especially for a woman. I added a major in medieval studies almost on a whim, and even when I dropped my biochemistry major to study abroad and graduate early, I had fulfilled all pre-medical requirements and intended to go to medical school. It was not until after graduation and mid-way through the med school application process that I changed my mind and found myself with a very odd degree and no idea what to do with it. A nearly random comment from a Rice professor who was writing a med school letter of recommendation for me directed me to graduate school in English as a possibility, and I pursued it without much practical idea of what it involved. I focused on medieval literature ostensibly because my undergraduate work gave me some familiarity with the period’s history, but, really, I did not know enough about English literature as a whole to choose any other option. By the time I reached my Ph.D. coursework, though, I had the nagging suspicion that medieval literature was not, in fact, my favorite, but switching had definite risks. I had taken at least seven courses on medieval topics in addition to passing a medieval comprehensive exam as part of my master’s degree. I had only three courses which included eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British literature. Furthermore, I had a viable dissertation idea in the medieval field. I hadn’t a clue in the other. The format of Ph.D. comps had changed during my coursework to become more specialization-oriented. If I were to switch periods, I would need a massive self-study regimen.
That prospect was so intimidating and the process of moving so consuming that I did nothing academic for the first six months of my leave of absence. In the spring, I read one long novel but then got distracted with other things. I was embarrassed at how little I had done, yet I was reluctant to do more. The kids required so much effort, and I genuinely enjoyed giving it. If I was happy being “just mommy,” why try to be something else? It was so tempting at that time to compose a letter saying that “while I appreciated the opportunities I had had at CUA, I could not give both my studies and my children the level of effort that I felt each deserved, and so I was choosing to devote these few, fleeting years entirely to my family.” There was a sense of relief in thinking of such a letter. Yet I never wrote it.
Then, in June, my grandfather passed away. Of the many pictures I saw in the days after his passing, one that stuck with me was a snapshot of hm and me on the day of my master’s graduation ceremony. In it, I am looking down, messing with my regalia, but he is looking at me and smiling with pride. I felt that I had to continue, and I wrote to my adviser.
I made a reading list in August and received her feedback in early September. I read through a quarter to a third of my list by early November, but then I hit a wall in exhaustion. I was studying largely while rocking Corin during morning naps on Lily’s preschool days, and in the evenings, sometimes in the interval between dinner and the kids’ bedtime, but mostly after the kids went to sleep. When the kids had a rough night, I could be up until 2 or 3 a.m. trying to hit my reading goal. When Corin had to be held in order to stay asleep, I could read, but I could not take notes. I thought that my best case scenario would be passing one, maybe two out of three exams. I could not see how I would pass all three. Yet I also knew that I had delayed quite a long time, and each delay not only weakened my credibility with administrators, but also made it harder for me to get back into the swing of academic life-- the habits and speed of reading, the familiarity with authors and critics, the continual practice of comprehension, explanation, and reasoned argument. When I inquired about registration, though, I learned to my surprise that my original leave had expired and that I would have to be reinstated. My adviser had allowed me to defer the exams that third time, but neither of us knew that we needed additional paperwork or permission. Thankfully, however, the Dean was willing to rush my reinstatement through in time for me to register, and I got my letter of reinstatement the week before Christmas. Thus the blogs stopped and the study began with renewed intensity.
I kept on reading during Corin’s naps and in the evenings. Matt took a few days off to watch the kids and give me “study days.” Kelsey Schumaker, a family friend, came for four days in January, and my Mom came for a weekend in March. Between September-October and December-mid March, I read 18 novels, 4 nonfiction books, and 58 essays or prose excerpts for the first time, along with 130 poems, most of them new, 2 book-length narrative poems, and 34 essays or excerpts of literary theory. I also re-read 3 additional novels and read large portions of 11 scholarly books and 2 scholarly articles. Our rough estimate is that I read at least 10,000 pages. I took 159 pages of notes.
I spoke with my adviser again in late January. She was so encouraging that I began to think, for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, I might pass all three exams. In some ways, that was exhilarating. In others, it was more stressful. I had gone some way toward reconciling myself to the prospect of probable failure on at least one exam. I was working within real limits, and it was not necessarily a shame to take more than one try at a specialization that I had largely taught myself.
Before we left for DC almost two weeks ago, I was reluctant to post anything about comps just yet, even if I had had the time. I have also delayed it a bit since we returned, not wanting to answer questions about how I thought I did.
But, this evening, I got an email from the director of graduate studies in English. I passed all three exams.
I cannot adequately tell you what this means to me. I have been writing this blog post for almost four hours, and I still don’t think that it says quite what it ought. My parents and friends tell me that they never doubted me, and I am truly grateful for their confidence, but oh! I doubted myself! I doubted myself for two years, and I had to drag myself almost unwillingly out of maternal retirement to face that doubt down. I feel like passing these exams is a victory, not a grade-- a victory not over the exams, but over myself. Comps represented a declaration of professional intent which I had been reluctant to make. Now I have made it. I am a legitimate specialist in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century British literature. I am also a specialist in cloth diapers, sewing projects, homemade baby food, bedtime stories, nursing, and more. A colleague at CUA had a t-shirt from a website called “The Art of Manliness” which read “Gentleman and Scholar.” That is an excellent thing to be, certainly, but it is obviously not possible for me. Instead, I am a Mother and Scholar, and I think that is pretty damn cool.
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| A study break the weekend before comps. |
woohoo Lindsay!!! I am so happy for you and I knew you would pass. But I realize what a feat this was. It is no small thing to switch specialties even withOUT kids. But with your two delightfuls it is amazing. In Austin just recently, when you were telling me your schedule, I realized that you have done only a few things for the past academic yr: be a mom & wife, exercise a bit, and study. That takes so much discipline, as I know in my struggles to study during all the naps, all the sleeps, all the possible moments people can give you... Congratulations Mother and Scholar!
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