Welcome back! I’m excited to be blogging again for this upcoming academic year.
I’m in my second year of my MA but I’m in a weird liminal zone right now! Liminal zones are middle spaces, where you change from one state to another. If you think about it, those are not the most comfortable places to be, but there are many times in our life where we find ourselves there, so it’s good to recognize and address them.
I’m still a graduate student doing research and learning, but I’m not in classes. I almost have a master’s degree, but I don’t quite. I work as a research assistant doing complex work, and I also have a minimum-wage, entry-level, part-time job to pay the bills. I’m the same person as I was last year with the same career goals and interests, but my skill set has changed so much, and my perspective has changed considerably. It’s a little dizzying to have so much happening, and yet, it’s also clarifying because you get to return to your interests and passions consistently. For example, the first and last projects I worked on in classes this year were on roughly the same subject, but my understanding and perspective on the subject was more complex and much more intersectional. I’ve also been working on my CV to update it with all the new experiences and skills I’ve learned at Memorial. I visited with Julie Bowring in Career Development & Experiential Learning (CDEL) last week for a one-on-one meeting to get her tips on building a stronger CV. It was an extremely valuable look at how best to represent my graduate experience academically and non-academically. I love academia, but I’m not planning on being a professor, so it’s vital for me to understand how what I do and have done is applicable to other areas.
You may wonder if a graduate degree is a good choice for you if you’re not explicitly interested in becoming a professor. That’s a fair consideration. If you’re not sure about your specialization or focus but you have a reasonable grasp on your interests, I would recommend a course based degree. Don’t be scared away by not having a direct, singular answer to “what do you do?” and “will you do a PhD?” It’s good to be diverse as long as you have some corresponding focus in the diversity, and you may not want to dedicate yourself to a doctorate right out of the gate. I remember how during the student mixers I was a little worried about how I would respond when people asked me my focus and plans. Unlike my friends, who had definite specialties and had their theses planned from day one, I felt a little weak saying, “I just… wanted to learn more about English.” I have a background in medieval studies, sure, but I wanted to know more. About everything.
English is a perfect discipline for people like me, because it touches on everything, from complex, almost ethereally beautiful theory to practical applications. In my undergraduate degree, I had the opportunity to take a course from one of those once-in-a-lifetime inspiring professors who self-identified as an “experience junkie.” I wholeheartedly believe that you should try being an experience junkie in and out of the classroom. In English, we can be that. We can look at everything we experience in a critical, focused way, and we can also look at the art of how we reflect on the world through literature. Education at this level shouldn’t be about limiting yourself to one conversation or one way of seeing the world so you can be the best expert in one small area. The conversations you have are limited if you take a utilitarian approach to what you learn. Don’t limit yourself – I know there’s a lot of pressure in the academic world to be an expert right away, but I encourage you to consider really embracing the mindset of the academic experience junkie.
I’m reflecting now on how diverse the subjects I’ve studied are, and how they’re coming together in my final project, which is an independent study exploring interlingual poetry in English and Chinese. The Teaching Skills Enhancement Program I took last fall helped me to think about the course from the point of view of curriculum, so before I dove in reading, I identified the key voices in the field and looked for texts that would build a strong foundation. Now I’m building a bibliography to organize and narrow my focus more. As I’ve been reading, I’ve recognized ideas that I would not have previously; I’m able to trace ideas back to source theories or texts that aren’t explicit – intertextuality and coded references have always seemed like a kind of literary magic, because of how they expand a text’s meaning in so many potential ways that change for each reader. Authors who can “double code”, putting in subtle intertextual links gracefully, seem like wizards to me.
Thankfully, because my courses were so diverse, I can now recognize varied instances where I otherwise would have had no awareness of the connection. Understanding the connections that already exist is the first step in being able to confidently offer my own connections to others in a meaningful way – with the confidence that my ideas will be a worthwhile contribution that builds up a conversation going on in many professions, languages, and places around the world. I like that I will always be able to trace the influence of this program in this particular place, Memorial University of Newfoundland, in what I offer to the world. The unique connections I’m able to make are steeped in my experience here, from the particular thinkers and educators here. I’m able to look back and see how much the culture and focuses that make my department unique have shaped how well I can navigate the complex ideas I’ve encountered, and will encounter in the next stage of my career. Newfoundland has such a vibrantly colorful sense of place, and that will stay with me forever.
Until next time…
~Meghan