No news
is just no news sometimes, it turns out. For some reason, just naiveté I suppose, I thought that if I was the "winning candidate," as it were, I would learn within hours of the conclusion of today's faculty meeting. Such that I had told people I would know the outcome by today, and have received several e-mails and phone calls. But apparently job offers need to be run through administrative channels before candidates are called, so things like, oh, salary level, can be ironed out. So in fact I have no idea whatsoever when I will actually learn what's going on. Which is good in some way, because now there isn't a focal point for nervous tension and I can just let it subside to a general feeling of malaise and unsettledness.
However, I did have a lovely job-related thing happen today, in that my students bought me a present. A joke present, but a meaningful one, and seriously, since when do my students (graduate or no) buy me presents? (Answer: never.) I had left the room so they could fill out course evaluations in privacy, and came back in so I could sign the sealed envelope. Upon my re-entry they gave me a small brown tote bag with purple tissue paper coming out the top, and inside was a big mallet, with a black rubber head and a wooden handle that someone had written "[PANGEA], Ph.D." on with a Sharpie. "
"Um, it's lovely," I said. "A mallet?" One of them explained. "You know how throughout the semester you've told us again and again that it's only painful now because you're hammering the cognitive hooks of [tongueology] into our heads, but that later we'll have those hooks in place to hang information on and it won't be so bad? This is the mallet/hammer that's hammering those cognitive hooks in our head. We thought you'd like a keepsake of the process."
So sweet! And with a thank you card to go with it (????) in which each student wrote about how much they'd liked being in the class. I've been deluged with self-doubt for the last few weeks -- self-doubt about the validity of my research and research agenda, abilities, chosen career, interactional skills, and much, much more. But this made me feel great. Now I just have to figure out how to display a personalized tongueology mallet in the postage stamp.
However, I did have a lovely job-related thing happen today, in that my students bought me a present. A joke present, but a meaningful one, and seriously, since when do my students (graduate or no) buy me presents? (Answer: never.) I had left the room so they could fill out course evaluations in privacy, and came back in so I could sign the sealed envelope. Upon my re-entry they gave me a small brown tote bag with purple tissue paper coming out the top, and inside was a big mallet, with a black rubber head and a wooden handle that someone had written "[PANGEA], Ph.D." on with a Sharpie. "
"Um, it's lovely," I said. "A mallet?" One of them explained. "You know how throughout the semester you've told us again and again that it's only painful now because you're hammering the cognitive hooks of [tongueology] into our heads, but that later we'll have those hooks in place to hang information on and it won't be so bad? This is the mallet/hammer that's hammering those cognitive hooks in our head. We thought you'd like a keepsake of the process."
So sweet! And with a thank you card to go with it (????) in which each student wrote about how much they'd liked being in the class. I've been deluged with self-doubt for the last few weeks -- self-doubt about the validity of my research and research agenda, abilities, chosen career, interactional skills, and much, much more. But this made me feel great. Now I just have to figure out how to display a personalized tongueology mallet in the postage stamp.
posted by Pangea at 10:40 PM
3 Comments:
That's a really great present. Sounds like a good prop to use in future classes. You could also chase a prospective husband around a Crate nor Barrel with it.
But who ever will provide the "domestic abuse" silent movie accompaniment chase music?
Revenge is a dish best served cold. (what movie?)
And cold it is! I can't wait to walk out this door.
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