Remembering Sarah

I never spent that much time with Sarah. She entered the program two years after me, and we only took one seminar together. In the seminar I thought she was kind of nuts—not in a bad way, just different from me. Hence nuts.

The seminar was a Spanish lit seminar, and she spoke up in class often. That wasn't me—I talked the bare minimum in seminar. It's bad enough trying to find something intelligent to say about narrativity, try saying it in Spanish. So I never said anything. When Sarah spoke she spoke like a train with no brakes—words just kept falling out of her mouth. Sometimes she mixed English with Spanish. She gesticulated. A lot. And sometimes, I was pretty sure her grammar was off. But the funny thing was, I always understood what she was saying. Maybe it was because she, like me, first formed her thoughts in English, and then translated them into Spanish as she spoke. And maybe for that reason, I liked listening to her talk.

Sometimes Sarah would say things that made me think, "Either I'm an idiot, or this girl really is nuts." Like the time she said she was going to qualify during her second year. Yeah, good luck with that one. Or when she said that she'd already taken a lit theory sequence before and that she didn't need to take another one here. I don't think I could ever feel comfortable talking about theory, especially not with having taken just one year's worth of classes on it. So again I thought, "OK, either I'm..." But then maybe there was a third option: that she was smart and confident. And again, that wasn't me.

We ended up going to the same conference during spring break of that year. The funny thing is, I don't even remember much about the conference. What I do remember is that she came to hear my presentation—and participated more actively during the Q&A than any of the actual seminar participants. She listened. She asked questions. She pushed. But honestly, what surprised me was that she came. I've been to conferences where I knew, or were friends with, some of the people presenting papers—but I didn't always go hear them. Maybe there was another presentation I wanted to hear during the same time slot. Maybe it wasn't in my field. Maybe I was too tired. Or too busy sightseeing. Or too lazy. But Sarah came. She didn't know me that well, who knows if the seminar theme was of interest to her, but I'm pretty sure my paper topic had little to do with her research. But she came. And I do remember that.

Afterwards we went to grab a bite to eat together, I'm pretty sure. Except I don't recall exactly what we ate. Or even what we talked about during the meal. And even though I may be mixing things up with another memory, I have this feeling that we went to eat pho together. And if I stick to the story, I'm going to tell that Sarah pronounced it as "foe", and every time she said it, I wasn't sure whether to point it out to her or not. I think I decided not to. I think I thought it fit her character. And I'm pretty sure I thought it was pretty funny.

The last time I spoke with you was in late October. We ran into each other in the stairwell, when I was leaving the building and you were going up to your office. I'd been away from campus for a year, and I couldn't even remember what year you were in. But I did remember that you were going to qualify early and defend early and be all-around brilliant early. So I asked, "You're...qualified?" And you responded, "Oh yeah. I'm dissertating". Dissertating. I'd heard people use that word, and I may even have used it a few times myself. But it wasn't really a word I felt I could use to describe what I was doing. I was just writing bits and pieces of things, cobbling things together, wondering whether they fit and made sense. I wasn't sure if what I was putting down on paper counted as an argument. So I couldn't bring myself to say that I was "dissertating". 

But you could. And you did. In that same way you spoke up in the Spanish lit seminar, the same way you said you would qualify early and you certainly did not need to be taking theory any more, you gave life to that neologism and owned it. You did. And dammit Sarah, it's people like you who should be getting their ideas out there, teaching great classes, inspiring their colleagues and students. There are people who sit around whining about not getting a job, not getting a fellowship, not getting a paper accepted. And some of those people might be me. But what little I know of you, it has been of a person who knows what she's aiming for, and who actually works her butt off to get it, and announces so, with neither apologies nor hesitation. And maybe, just maybe, that can be me some day.

Mindset, or, Continuing Education on the Cheap

While at my parents' house for New Year's in January I borrowed from them a book by psychologist Carol Dweck titled Mindset (which, it turns out, has an accompanying Web site). I finally finished it a couple of days ago (shut up), and from the book I learned two things: 1) we can benefit by adopting a "growth mindset", and 2) we can profit by writing a popular book (more than by writing an academic book).

Although that second lesson wasn't new (I've never seen any earnings from my dad's mathematical theory books), I did find Dweck's ideas about the two mindsets insightful. (I'm late to the party because the book was published in 2006, but) the book argues that there are two mindsets: fixed and growth. Fixed mindset thinking assumes our abilities are fixed, and that the way things are are the way things will be; and growth mindset thinking assumes that abilities can grow with effort, and that things can change.

Those ideas sound like "duh" ideas, but it helps to have them articulated—so please borrow the book from your local library if you want to learn more.

So in an effort to engage in more growth mindset thinking, I'm taking seriously the idea of continuing education. No, not "Continuing Education" like the stuff they try to sell you in online ads; I'm talking about the simple act of "continuing (your) education". And while I lied about getting a second Ph.D. in my previous post (surprise), I do like to learn—but I'm also hella cheap. So I decided to figure out how to continue my education for free (or, at least, for very little money)—without compromising on quality. Here's what I've got:

1. iTunes U: Hands down, my go-to place for free edumacation. I can download audio and video files on all sorts of topics, and I can go through them while I'm making the bed or cooking dinner. And since I access the courses through the iTunes interface, the system doesn't present a learning curve. Score.


2. Podcasts: This is how I'm learning Dutch. Unfortunately I haven't actually learned any Dutch yet (not even how to order a drink), but that's OK—most bartenders in Holland speak English anyway.


3. YouTube: What's not to love (except for the ads you can't skip)? I go here to learn how to cook things by watching some lady wearing a sweater with a plunging neckline. But with its subscription system and suggested videos and channels, YouTube is great for learning via entertaining videos. Seriously—subscribe to YouTube channels, people. (And I don't say this because a relative works there...)


4. TED: Ah, the home of inspiring talks. I mean, who can resist a site that tags videos based on just how jaw-dropping/courageous/ingenious they are? Plus the site design is gorgeous.


5. edX: Yes, it's a MOOC-provider. But at least it's not-for-profit, and I can't criticize MOOCs unless I've taken one (though taking the demo course and learning how essays are "graded" made me want to throw up). But I'm signed up for a jazz appreciation class in winter, and I must say: I'm pretty jazzed.


6. Webinars: Companies often offer free Webinars, which are awesome when I just want to hear people talk about topics that they know a lot about who also give out free PowerPoints. I've attended a Webinar on financial education through UC Retirements and another on long-distance relationships through SARC. I'm also eyeing future Webinars through Charles Schwab...I'm such a greedy learner.


7. COLLEGE: I admit, I've never seen Animal House (and my undergrad advisor told me I hadn't lived), but institutions of higher education are good places to, well, continue education. And since there are a myriad options for how to take classes—for a degree or for a certificate, full-time or part-time—places like university extensions and community colleges make it easy to take courses one at a time. (The price, however, is becoming increasingly prohibitive—which is a whole 'nother conversation.)

And of course, anything you can read for free—newspapers, magazines, in print, online, whatever you can get your hands on—should be food for thought. In which case, the only thing I have to be careful about is overeating.

What am I missing? There must be some magical site that aggregates all sorts of inexpensive educational Web sites and tools. Any tips? Also, what to do with all this awesome continuing education we can get for free/at a low(ish) cost? No one's going to get me to write a term paper for some class I'm not getting credit for, but having periodic output required makes the input so much more worthwhile...

How to Have Been a Better Job Candidate

Oh, the ridiculous places in which we have academic conferences...

It just so happens that I am on the job market this year, which has made me look back on my academic career with an eye to figuring out how to construct myself as an even remotely qualified candidate. But in that process I've learned a few lessons, despite the fact that some of them I know I've heard before—I just didn't learn them in time.

To avoid the same mistakes in my next Ph.D. program, here are some lessons that I should have learned before my sixth year here:

1. Keep all teaching evaluations, organized and in one place. Seriously. Maybe even put post-its on your favorite ones. Just because you have to teach in multiple programs to get through grad school financially, and just because some programs have absolutely ridiculous evaluations systems, it's still your responsibility to submit a nice "teaching evaluation" package to schools when they ask for one.


2. Take notes on thoughts about teaching, both its theory and its practice. If you see an instructor doing something you like, whether for undergraduate lectures or graduate seminars, write it down—and figure out what you find effective about it. See if it reminds you of things you saw at other schools. And if there are teaching strategies that you think can be improved, jot those down too.


3. Write teaching and research philosophy statements early—like, a full quarter before actually going on the market. Actually, this process got me to realize that I was interested more in teaching than in research. Plus the process can be a great motivation for gearing up to teach and research in future quarters.


4. Stop reading; start writing. And I mean last week. It's like someone once said: one more book isn't going to tell you anything new, or give you that one answer you've been seeking. And like someone else said, reading is just an excuse for not writing—and we all know that's true. (Besides, no one takes you seriously unless you have two solid chapters done anyway.)


5. Submit job applications early. Don't procrastinate on writing up the cover letter, just to find out that the online application has disappeared because the position has been filled already—because it will be the position that you thought you were the absolutely perfect candidate for. (Even though it wasn't.)


6. Be happy with the present and past. If you are proud of who you are and how far you've come as a scholar, it'll come through in both the job applications and the dissertation. (Right??) So you didn't get that fellowship or get that article accepted—clearly you weren't just sitting there twiddling your thumbs; you made productive use of your time otherwise, and that deserves some spotlight. Think about what you have (to offer), not what you don't. 

One would think that a grad student would ask her advisers about these questions before they come up—but clearly this one did not. But you know, a lesson learned late is better than a lesson never learned, I say...

Bachelorette / この子が結婚するなんて

So I was chatting with my friend about a potential bachelorette party, when I thought to myself: Huh. Those parties never made sense to me, since I can't understand why anyone would want a last huzzah before being tied down to the embodiment of a ball and chain—I mean, if you think you're getting "tied down", why get married in the first place? Confused.

Nevertheless, I recently watched Leslye Headland's movie version of her own play, Bachelorette (2012), and absolutely loved it. I almost have to say that in hushed tones, because it feels like a guilty pleasure—but the film was funny, well-paced, and did a nice job of creating both intimacy and distance among the friends in each frame of the film. (I mean, look at those girls, getting all chummy on that bench there. Doesn't that scream "bridesmaids-4-eva!" to you?)

As for my fictitious bachelorette party, I'll take some good food, some good drinks, and some of my closest friends—including my ball-and-chain-to-be. Now isn't that my idea of a good time.