I am so tired of grad school. Or maybe I'm just tired of some of the personalities in the English department. Or maybe I just need a freakin' break from class. Probably a combination of all three.

The course I'm currently taking is truncated due to the summer scheduling. Thank goodness because I don't think I could stand being in there for more than six weeks. First of all, the class is huge. I haven't had a class so large since 501--and not even our 501 class was this big (for those of you who don't know, 501 is the only course English Ph.D. students are required to take so all first year Crits--the literature people--and CWs--the creative writers, both fiction and poetry--take that course their first semester). This class, though, is so big and generally it's only a couple people arguing, and the professor interacting with those people. The classroom dynamic is weird. The class shouldn't have been this large: it's too easy to wallflower. And some of my favorite people to listen to--who have good things to say, that is, non-repetitive things to say--don't talk nearly enough. Every day, it's hard to get the class going. It's a slow boil kind of thing. So when the professor asks a question I have, stupidly, tried to answer since no one else seems willing. Two days in a row I have been chastised for my observations being too obvious (on Tuesday, it was on more than one occasion). And I don't even get a chance to take the "obvious" one step further, because the class is so large, and I am thusly muscled out of the way by raised hands in a sort of: You Had Your Shot And Wasted It kind of deal.

Fuck it, dude.

I'm just not going to talk in class anymore. It will be my small form of protest.
And that may seem like a pissy response, but really it's for my own sanity and self-esteem. I just walked off a semester where I actually felt smart (for the first time in grad school) and felt like I was contributing to the classroom dynamic in both my fiction workshop and in the theory class I took. I am not going to let a weird class ruin that buzz.

In other weird grad school news... I got an e-mail two days ago from a former professor. It was asking me to babysit.

Um. I refused. I refused politely, blaming it on my schedule (freelance job + school + preparing my CAP and assignments for WRIT 140 next semester--oh, I got promoted to coordinator, so I'll be teaching and organizing the instructors who teach my social issues affiliation = busy). I then offered to try to find someone who would be available. But the reply was, "No worries," so I didn't have to ask anyone I knew a kind of weird question.

I feel a little perturbed annoyed at the whole situation. I felt so helpless at first because either way I analyzed it, I felt screwed. If I did it, I'd be miserable + poopy diapers + opening myself up for future exploitation + change the dynamic of my professional relationship, all the while feeling used and bitter. If I didn't do it, I'm possibly burning a bridge. I worried that it was a weird power thing. Or like a test from a fairytale to see if the heroine is as strong as she pretends to be. Like testing me to see if I'll do it because I'm a grad student? So, if I do it, does that mean I'm weak? If I don't, does that mean I'm an asshole?

I decided to take the road that would make me less miserable in the long run, and as my friend Lorie astutely observed, that meant the road with no diapers to change.

Labels: english department horror stories, grad school

( 2comments )

at June 8, 2007 9:31 AM  jezebelsriot said...

Unless there was ever some passing conversation that may have given the impression you were available for chasing after other people's children, then you are certainly not an asshole and it was slightly rude (maybe not rude, depending on the relationship with that professor) to ask you. You made the right decision though, and passed that fairy tale test in my opinion. In fairy tales you are rewarded with adventure and toads for friends, in this test you would have been rewarded with poo and frazzled hair. No one wants frazzled hair.

Grad school sounds much like I thought it would be. So are there moments when the pretentious and self-aggrandizing assholes in your courses make you feel inferior ever? And if there are how do you combat that? And if those moments never occur because you are secure completely in your intellect, was it always this way?

For everyone teaching with me in the fall, it's the students who make them cringe, but for me, it's the thought of listening to people who enjoy the sound of their breath in the air equally as much as they enjoy putting each other down.

This stems from a bad experience in a class last semester that was split between grad students and undergraduates.

 

at June 11, 2007 5:34 AM  jezebelsriot said...

Well, I definitely have to say thank you for the answer. My background is Sociology, and I have always been very comfortable in that arena. Conferences, my oral defense, I am completely at ease debating a thesis or particular theoretical perspective.

But my lack of experience in this new literary direction sometimes allows my barriers to crumble so the aggressive behavior of other students affects me differently.

Thank you for the thoughtful reply. I suppose ultimately I am less worried about the trials with students (it's their grade :-) as I am about performing in grad school. I'm not sure why, maybe it's the second chance in creative writing since I threw myself into Soc for so long, but I feel this is sort of a new beginning, a make or break scenario.