| | I need that pressure, that deadline, that oh-so-close-but-just-in-the-nick-of-time feeling to get me motivated to do unpleasant academic business--namely, grant proposals and conference papers. Hard deadlines are not as numerous for me being in grad school, just mainly the big ones: qualifying papers and methods requirement. But even then, actual protocol in the department is generalizable in one simple gesture accompanied by a gutteral sound: a shurg and an "ehh" or "whatever." Ever since the wedding from last week, I've been playing this game of catch up with course work and the grant proposal that I haven't been writing but that I knew was lingering somewhere. For coursework, my seminars had me reading another difficult reading about theorizing culture and me presenting in the other seminar. The reading for the first seminar wasn't that bad, it just took me an eternity to finish the twenty-some odd pages. Basically, locating culture is difficult since it is in this liminal, in-between space between the observer/interpellator and the agent of focus. As for the presentation, that got placed on the backburner on the weekend since I had to fill out the grant application. It's a real long-shot, I proof read it once, shown it to no faculty or anyone else. I didn't know writing six pages of what I think I want to study and my own life would be so time consuming. I always find writing a self-relfecting story the most difficult because I don't want to sound like the pretentious prick who knows everything and deserves special privilege. But that's what the grant was about, privileging one segment of the population over others. The presentation was worst-case scenario: me trying to rehash the articles that I did not read as closely as I should have. Prof. Smiles helped me out with her her stories and her direction of how the presentation should have been structured, however somehow the clock ran out of time and that was over. Of the all the chaos, I did grasp her own article that she assigned and I offered no critiques of it whatsoever; surprisingly, she offered some shortcomings of her own work. Meanwhile, in applying for that grant and putting-in a half-assed effort, I had to ask for letters of recommendations from faculty. I hate that part: begging, waiting for confirmation/rejection, and then not knowing what they wrote. I asked my old undergrad advisor, she said yes and then suggested that I apply to a conference held next year in Texas and then mentioned to form a panel if possible. On top of contacting faculty, now I have to contact random strangers to see if our topics match or if they don't, how well one can bullsh*t the panel topic to somehow tie in all the panelists. I think I know why academics are (usually) comfortable talking about themselves: because they have to apply for these grants which probably demands personal statements and apply to conferences which force them to network and continually reintroduce and explain themselves. The sad part about that is what if you, the applicant for the grant or the conference, begin to the believe the garbage you submit. Then you might begin to believe in your written descriptions of your inflated-egoistic self. which I find most disturbing. |
| | Posted 11/4/2009 3:03 AM - 1 View - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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