"I go to high school."
Actually, as of Thursday, I finally go to grad school. And it has been interesting.
Thursday, I had the beginning of my seminar on the methodology of comparative lit. The people were mostly cool, though one woman (former HS english teacher) in education seems like she's gonna get lost in the Foucault-this Benjamin-that of theory classes. And another guy is a little freakyold and smiles at everything you say. BIG smiles. "You're doing Japanese! That's SO interesting!!" To which my stock response is, well, it's about as interesting as anything else. And about as hard as anything else. I don't like these implications that I'm doing something more complicated, or working any harder, just because I'm not doing something European. I mean, if I were asian and doing Japanese, or if I were still white and doing German, no one would make those comments. But that's my soapbox and I'll put it away now.
Anyway(!), most of the kids were cool, and one lives very close to me and I think we are going to hang out tomorrow. So even if I don't get too close with any of the kids in my department any time soon, I can just go pretend that I'm in Comp Lit and bond with all of them.
Friday was someting of a different story. My first class was intro to classical japanese, which back at U of M was a pretty small and select class of grad students and a few overly ambitious undergrads. But here, it apparently has become some kind of major requirement for undergrads, so there are a ton of them and only one lonely me. As I sat there and surveyed the class, I literally felt too big for the desk, even though most of these kids are probably only two years younger than me. If that. Still, it's very embarassing that in the near future I will have my ass kicked at Japanese by undergrads who know that I am a phd student. Maybe I'll lie and say I'm just getting my master's.
Then, in the afternoon, same professor but a wildly different class. Intro to classical japanese looks to expect only a very little from the students in terms of workload (which seems to suit the kids, and me, just fine). The seminar, though, is a PhD requirement and basically plans to hand me my ass. One critical text per week, plus about a five page "thoughtful" review, presentation on part of the book in class, and a critical bibliography of reviews, related articles, and books published (in the US and Japan!) on the same topic. All this for four measely credits? And there's a final paper, too.
Also in that class is a girl with big teeth who feels the need to comment on everything she notices or anything the professor says. I think she's a PhD student. I think her name is Michelle. Buck-tooth Michelle, you are my enemy. For LIFE.
In conclusion, to begin my life as a 'scholar', I wrote out a detailed schedule for the week ahead that tells me when I should start and finish each piece of reading and each assignment. It is the most organized thing I have ever done, and I will probably never do it again.
Thursday, I had the beginning of my seminar on the methodology of comparative lit. The people were mostly cool, though one woman (former HS english teacher) in education seems like she's gonna get lost in the Foucault-this Benjamin-that of theory classes. And another guy is a little freakyold and smiles at everything you say. BIG smiles. "You're doing Japanese! That's SO interesting!!" To which my stock response is, well, it's about as interesting as anything else. And about as hard as anything else. I don't like these implications that I'm doing something more complicated, or working any harder, just because I'm not doing something European. I mean, if I were asian and doing Japanese, or if I were still white and doing German, no one would make those comments. But that's my soapbox and I'll put it away now.
Anyway(!), most of the kids were cool, and one lives very close to me and I think we are going to hang out tomorrow. So even if I don't get too close with any of the kids in my department any time soon, I can just go pretend that I'm in Comp Lit and bond with all of them.
Friday was someting of a different story. My first class was intro to classical japanese, which back at U of M was a pretty small and select class of grad students and a few overly ambitious undergrads. But here, it apparently has become some kind of major requirement for undergrads, so there are a ton of them and only one lonely me. As I sat there and surveyed the class, I literally felt too big for the desk, even though most of these kids are probably only two years younger than me. If that. Still, it's very embarassing that in the near future I will have my ass kicked at Japanese by undergrads who know that I am a phd student. Maybe I'll lie and say I'm just getting my master's.
Then, in the afternoon, same professor but a wildly different class. Intro to classical japanese looks to expect only a very little from the students in terms of workload (which seems to suit the kids, and me, just fine). The seminar, though, is a PhD requirement and basically plans to hand me my ass. One critical text per week, plus about a five page "thoughtful" review, presentation on part of the book in class, and a critical bibliography of reviews, related articles, and books published (in the US and Japan!) on the same topic. All this for four measely credits? And there's a final paper, too.
Also in that class is a girl with big teeth who feels the need to comment on everything she notices or anything the professor says. I think she's a PhD student. I think her name is Michelle. Buck-tooth Michelle, you are my enemy. For LIFE.
In conclusion, to begin my life as a 'scholar', I wrote out a detailed schedule for the week ahead that tells me when I should start and finish each piece of reading and each assignment. It is the most organized thing I have ever done, and I will probably never do it again.