(no subject)
So this afternoon as I was working my way through the late afternoon sleepies, reading John Gillingham's article, "Thegns and Knights in Eleventh-Century England: Who Was Then the Gentleman?" I happened to glance up and see my semester's reading list. And I was completely struck anew by how sexy it is. Seriously, I get to spend my life these days reading awesome stuff about the eleventh century. I was so filled with dorky glee that I totally lost track of my article at the crucial point where Gillingham randomly changes the subject, and was left staring at it in a state of WTF, why did he just start talking about the change in noble conventions of warfare across the Norman Conquest? Upon reread, I caught the part in the introduction where he mentioned that he was going to talk about it, but unfortunately, I still can't figure out why he included it. But that's not the point. The point is being filled with dorky glee. So much glee. So inexpressibly much glee, glee that I hope one day I'll be able to convey to my students, when, here's hoping, I get to actually teach medieval stuff.
Which, I suppose, brings me to those thoughts on gender, clothing, and power in contemporary American academia I've been threatening to talk about. This round of thoughts was inspired by a_d_medievalist's recent post on clothing and academia, which led me to this post and back for the second or third time to this article. These are things I think about fairly frequently, though, and issues that affect me, as a very, very minor cog in the academic wheel. Or, I suppose I should say, as a very young, female cog. Age, of course, being another factor altogether, but certainly also one that works against me.
Disclaimer: My musings here represent my experience; I don't mean to imply that I think things are the same everywhere or that I'm in any way dissatisfied with my grad school experience so far. I also recognize that even as a young, female, socially-awkward TA, I still enjoy the privileges that come with being a white, middle-class, North American.
Anyway, the gist of all these articles, especially the last two, is that when it comes to dressing for teaching, women are essentially damned if they do, damned if they don't, and that clothing, whatever female professors wear, is tied closely to perceived authority in the classroom.
To which I can only say, word. For instance, last semester, I had students who were registered for one of my discussion sections switch to fellow TA M's section at the same time, before our first discussion section meeting. Incidentally, they turned out to be hard-boiled chauvinist jerks. I can only think that their choice reflected the fact that M wore shorts and a t-shirt to lecture the day we were introduced to the class, and I wore a blouse and a long skirt.
As an aside, cubicle-mate E may be able to make his jackets with the leather elbow patches work in the classroom, but all the female TAs in my department dress up to teach (even fellow TA M).
I've also had students of both genders comment on my clothes. I know from talking to Prof H that she's had students comment on her clothing on her teaching evaluations. I mean, I kind of want to run away and marry Prof H's awesome wardrobe, but that's not the point. The point is that some students seem to have problems getting past female professors' clothing to the material they're teaching. Which, of course, brings in the authority issue.
I'm sure it's partly a personality issue as well, but to borrow a quote from that third article, Dressing the Part by Pamela Johnson:
But there's no presumption of respect or authority accorded to me when I walk into a classroom -- no matter what shoes I'm wearing. I have to convince my students, every day, that I know something about the subject matter and can manage the class effectively. I also have to convince them that they can't push me around, because they'll try to, but they won't try as hard if I've persuaded them that it will be a challenge.
Again, something I feel acutely. I'm pretty sure that some of the students who consistently challenged the grades I gave them last semester wouldn't have done it if I were male. I suspect that some of them might not have done it to me even if Prof H, the professor I was TAing for, had been male. I'm sure they would have been more reluctant to take it to her after (or before) they'd talked to me, in any case.
I'll be interested to see what happens now that I'm TAing for Prof O'N who is very large and male and quite possibly very intimidating.
As a side note, the hands-down worst and most overt sexism I've ever witnessed was directed against Prof H, by some of the male students in her Crusades class my first semester at my current institution. I can't imagine anything of the sort happening to even the youngest, most timid, male professor.
So where am I going with all this poorly-articulated nattering about sexism and how my modest corner of academia has made me very aware of it? Well, other than proving that my sartorial panic is justified every time I sit on my bed and stare at my closet trying to decide what I'm going to wear to teach that's an acceptable compromise between what I feel comfortable and powerful in and what judgment my students are going to make of what I'm wearing, I'm going toward more about my future teaching career.
As should be obvious by now, I want to be a good teacher. I've been very, very privileged to have had excellent teachers myself, so of course, I want to be like them. But the thing is, when I think about the professors I want to be when I grow up, they're all male. And okay, I say all, but we all know I really mean I want to be like Prof C when I grow up. The only problem is that I'm not sure I can be. Again, my personality plays into this, but what I'm starting to think, having spent a certain amount of time sitting in front of a classroom full of students staring blankly at me, is that I'm not sure Prof C's teaching style would work as well if he were female. I don't think my students, at least, would know what to make of it. At all. The thing I remember most about classes with Prof C was that he was always screamingly hilarious, but I'm not sure it would have the same effect coming from a female professor. I don't know. I certainly don't think that female professors have as much leeway to be brilliant but eccentric as male professors. I don't think they have as much leeway for anything.
That said, however, and however badly, there is hope. Remember how I mentioned my all-female comps panel yesterday? There are lots of female role models around for me to copy, and lots of potential mentors for me to get advice from. Prof G, for instance, hated TAing and agrees with me fully that sartorial panic is a perfectly logical thing to feel when faced with the prospect of teaching. Prof H, although not on my comps panel, is doing awesome things right now with combining history and historiography in her Medieval Mediterranean class, proving that someone young and female with a personality a lot like mine can be her own style of good teacher. And of course, I could do a lot worse than growing up to be advisor R.
So yes. Hopefully one day when I'm older and more intimidating (and less intimidated), I'll be able to convey my dorky glee about the eleventh century to my students, and be able to do it as a woman, with a compelling teaching style, in blue jeans.
For those of you out there reading, I'm interested to hear your thoughts.
And now, to bed. More dorky glee in the morning! I should mention that advisor R has me reading two of her own articles this week, which is going to make my weekly writeup a little bit hairy, once again, but her writing is fantastically entertaining. That, I'm pretty sure, doesn't have much to do with gender. I'm pretty sure you can only get away with that when you're a rock star.
Which, I suppose, brings me to those thoughts on gender, clothing, and power in contemporary American academia I've been threatening to talk about. This round of thoughts was inspired by a_d_medievalist's recent post on clothing and academia, which led me to this post and back for the second or third time to this article. These are things I think about fairly frequently, though, and issues that affect me, as a very, very minor cog in the academic wheel. Or, I suppose I should say, as a very young, female cog. Age, of course, being another factor altogether, but certainly also one that works against me.
Disclaimer: My musings here represent my experience; I don't mean to imply that I think things are the same everywhere or that I'm in any way dissatisfied with my grad school experience so far. I also recognize that even as a young, female, socially-awkward TA, I still enjoy the privileges that come with being a white, middle-class, North American.
Anyway, the gist of all these articles, especially the last two, is that when it comes to dressing for teaching, women are essentially damned if they do, damned if they don't, and that clothing, whatever female professors wear, is tied closely to perceived authority in the classroom.
To which I can only say, word. For instance, last semester, I had students who were registered for one of my discussion sections switch to fellow TA M's section at the same time, before our first discussion section meeting. Incidentally, they turned out to be hard-boiled chauvinist jerks. I can only think that their choice reflected the fact that M wore shorts and a t-shirt to lecture the day we were introduced to the class, and I wore a blouse and a long skirt.
As an aside, cubicle-mate E may be able to make his jackets with the leather elbow patches work in the classroom, but all the female TAs in my department dress up to teach (even fellow TA M).
I've also had students of both genders comment on my clothes. I know from talking to Prof H that she's had students comment on her clothing on her teaching evaluations. I mean, I kind of want to run away and marry Prof H's awesome wardrobe, but that's not the point. The point is that some students seem to have problems getting past female professors' clothing to the material they're teaching. Which, of course, brings in the authority issue.
I'm sure it's partly a personality issue as well, but to borrow a quote from that third article, Dressing the Part by Pamela Johnson:
But there's no presumption of respect or authority accorded to me when I walk into a classroom -- no matter what shoes I'm wearing. I have to convince my students, every day, that I know something about the subject matter and can manage the class effectively. I also have to convince them that they can't push me around, because they'll try to, but they won't try as hard if I've persuaded them that it will be a challenge.
Again, something I feel acutely. I'm pretty sure that some of the students who consistently challenged the grades I gave them last semester wouldn't have done it if I were male. I suspect that some of them might not have done it to me even if Prof H, the professor I was TAing for, had been male. I'm sure they would have been more reluctant to take it to her after (or before) they'd talked to me, in any case.
I'll be interested to see what happens now that I'm TAing for Prof O'N who is very large and male and quite possibly very intimidating.
As a side note, the hands-down worst and most overt sexism I've ever witnessed was directed against Prof H, by some of the male students in her Crusades class my first semester at my current institution. I can't imagine anything of the sort happening to even the youngest, most timid, male professor.
So where am I going with all this poorly-articulated nattering about sexism and how my modest corner of academia has made me very aware of it? Well, other than proving that my sartorial panic is justified every time I sit on my bed and stare at my closet trying to decide what I'm going to wear to teach that's an acceptable compromise between what I feel comfortable and powerful in and what judgment my students are going to make of what I'm wearing, I'm going toward more about my future teaching career.
As should be obvious by now, I want to be a good teacher. I've been very, very privileged to have had excellent teachers myself, so of course, I want to be like them. But the thing is, when I think about the professors I want to be when I grow up, they're all male. And okay, I say all, but we all know I really mean I want to be like Prof C when I grow up. The only problem is that I'm not sure I can be. Again, my personality plays into this, but what I'm starting to think, having spent a certain amount of time sitting in front of a classroom full of students staring blankly at me, is that I'm not sure Prof C's teaching style would work as well if he were female. I don't think my students, at least, would know what to make of it. At all. The thing I remember most about classes with Prof C was that he was always screamingly hilarious, but I'm not sure it would have the same effect coming from a female professor. I don't know. I certainly don't think that female professors have as much leeway to be brilliant but eccentric as male professors. I don't think they have as much leeway for anything.
That said, however, and however badly, there is hope. Remember how I mentioned my all-female comps panel yesterday? There are lots of female role models around for me to copy, and lots of potential mentors for me to get advice from. Prof G, for instance, hated TAing and agrees with me fully that sartorial panic is a perfectly logical thing to feel when faced with the prospect of teaching. Prof H, although not on my comps panel, is doing awesome things right now with combining history and historiography in her Medieval Mediterranean class, proving that someone young and female with a personality a lot like mine can be her own style of good teacher. And of course, I could do a lot worse than growing up to be advisor R.
So yes. Hopefully one day when I'm older and more intimidating (and less intimidated), I'll be able to convey my dorky glee about the eleventh century to my students, and be able to do it as a woman, with a compelling teaching style, in blue jeans.
For those of you out there reading, I'm interested to hear your thoughts.
And now, to bed. More dorky glee in the morning! I should mention that advisor R has me reading two of her own articles this week, which is going to make my weekly writeup a little bit hairy, once again, but her writing is fantastically entertaining. That, I'm pretty sure, doesn't have much to do with gender. I'm pretty sure you can only get away with that when you're a rock star.