Okay, so school is really hard. And I don't mean hard as in my brain can't figure it out. I mean hard as in I finally found something I can't b.s. my way through. (yes, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. eat me.) And even as I type this, something deep inside tells me that grad school was never intended to be easy. But I never thought I would be THIS humbled THIS quickly. I thought I would at least be able to sail through my first semester on my ability to compose an arguable thesis on something as trivial as a car owner's manual.
But, seriously. I'm at a point where I'm mystified by the fact that my best efforts aren't always met with academic success. In years past, if I did poorly on a paper, I could attribute it to the fact that I started writing it five minutes before class or the fact that I had never read the book about which the paper was supposed to be written. But now I feel like even my most meticulous and well-prepared assignments are deemed average.
Which makes me wonder...am I just fooling everyone? I mean, honestly. Isn't anyone with any sort of academic prowess just a slave to another man's thoughts? All the information I have stored in my brain has come from books and data sheets and intricately composited philosophies. So, it somewhat bothers me that I feel like I'm sitting on the ignorant side of stupid about ninety percent of the time. When all I really want to talk about, quite frankly, is the condition of humanity or God or why I'm the only one who seems to think there is no such thing as too many bottles of shampoo in the shower.
I'm not going to quit grad school. Mainly because I'm not a quitter. But as I sit there and listen to my "colleagues" discuss the feminine opposition and schizophrenic nature of King Lear, I can't help but wonder if this is really what I'm supposed to be doing in life. I love learning and I love being taught, but I feel so wildly inferior to so many things that I almost think I don't belong there. And, please don't view this post as a cry for help or sign of depression. I'm actually quite happy at this particular juncture in life. It's just that today I feel like I fell out of the stupid tree and hit every branch on the way down. But, don't worry. It's nothin I can't b.s. my way out of. (yes, I just ended with a preposition again...)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Okay, so grad school IS tough. No kidding around about that... but you're not just learning stories and structure and how to prepare for a paper or argument... You're being taught how to T-H-I-N-K. The fact that you have these doubts PROVES it. You may have started out an ignorant slave to another man's thoughts, but the valuable lesson you're learning in grad school is how to create your OWN thoughts. Undergrad is all about theory, composition, regurgitation. Grad school includes those components/skills, but takes it further and forces you to question yourself. Who are you really, and what is it you think?
So King Lear isn't really the thing you want to be reading/discussing...but what are you learning in the process of reading and discussing King Lear that is applicable to who you are and who you want to be... its not just about the storyline, characters, and plot twists. That may be the verbal expression, but you're learning. You're discovering how to form your own thoughts and opinions based on the core of who you are and all of the knowledge you have heretofor acquired.
You're doing good, kid. I'm both envious AND proud of you! =)
I was driving my 350Z through a small municipality some years back. I did not realize it, but I had been speeding only slightly more than the posted limit. Needless to say, the local constabulary pulled me over.
I didn't have my proof of insurance. No excuse. I just didn't have it.
I was given my opportunity to make a phone call. The person I called didn't answer. So I sat and waited.
At some point whilst sitting in the clink waiting for my next phone call, the constable's daughter came in and noticed my shiny car outside and my amazing sartorial abilities. She said, "I can tell by your shoes that you're not from around here." I wanted to say, "I can tell by your forehead that your parents were cousins", but I didn't. She was being quite flirtatious. I was flattered. But I had bigger fish to fry.
She got more amorous and more adventurous with her advances until she realized that I just wasn't interested. She finally said, "If you will take me out tonight, I'll see to it that you get out of jail within five minutes."
I thought about it and thought about it. But being an English major, I knew that I could not end my sentence with a proposition.
jbna
Gal. 6:17
Post a Comment