Monthly Archive

I’ve been doing well for the most part - busy but well. Doing work, but doing good work. Attempting to start many posts only to have them as saved drafts that linger on the top of my wordpress write-post page.

Then yesterday I was thrown off of my steady course. I had applied, about a month ago, for grant money to do research for my thesis - it was a considerable sum of money that I would get in exchange for doing research on food as a metaphor for diaspora identity, gender, etc. in contemporary South Asian literature. This is a topic I’m interested in, that I’m passionate about, and that I think is unique in comparison to many of the English proposals that are put in.

My proposal was rejected. I received a very diplomatic response that told me my proposal was interesting but not refined enough, that there were many applications received, and that I should take an independent study course over the summer.

Dear grant committee

While I understand that there may be many reasons why you did not select me as a recipient of grant money, please do not suggest that I take an independent study course over the summer. Your grant gave me money to do the research I wanted to do because I cannot afford to do it over the summer without being paid. You have suggested I take and i.s. course, which is something I would have to pay for. Instead of paying me to do this work, you want me to pay to do it. Sorry that I am not part of the wealthy elite that roam the hallowed halls of this institution - I would say that you couldn’t be expected to take class into consideration, but I’m going to refrain from making such claims, because the institution has one of the largest endowments in the country.

Furthermore, I noticed that a lot of the grants go to science majors. This is perfectly understandable, but also reminds me that you don’t think humanities work can be considered research. Though I did hear an example of a white man who received a grant for studying African-American business in New England. Does it seem less legitimate to give money to a south asian woman wanting to research South Asian postcolonial literature? This is the second year in a row you have rejected my proposal, so I’m inclined to be a little irrational. Now you put me in the position to ask myself where I can find a job this summer that pays me the money you pay to do work that will help me get into graduate school.

To top it all off, you will probably be sending me another rejection letter on Monday regarding another research proposal - perhaps next year when you come across students like me, you can put both rejections in one email so they can get past their insecurities and frustrations about being dependent on money sooner.

Thank you for your time,

-obw.

Now I am desperately looking for some sort of paid internship - which is difficult, and far more difficult than it should be considering the college is supposed to have amazing career resources. Turns out resources means business and finance. Turns out the college does not provide a stipend for unpaid nonprofit summer internships.

Of course, the thing that upsets me the most - along with the money issue - is that this experience makes me doubt the work that I’m doing. I keep asking myself - is postcolonial studies and doing work in south asian literature and in food and in colonial hospitality in victorian literature really valid? Maybe this isn’t work I should be doing. Maybe there are just people who are better thinkers, better writers, who are doing this work and I should stick to something else. I’m pretty confident that that isn’t true, but I hate doubting myself.

Rejection is a difficult thing - and the experience is helping me gain the thick skin I know I need if I want to be in graduate school and/or in academia in the future - but it feels….awful.

It’s been almost a month since I have really written a post. Turns out, February brought along a lot of things to write about, but with no additional energy or motivation to actually write.

It’s March now - time for a change.

In February, I realized that I want to go to graduate school.

Let’s rewind to where I was at the end of 2006.

I was going to graduate from college. Then I was going to work. I was going to find a job with a non-profit organization. I was going to win a fellowship that allowed me to study abroad. I was going to find an opportunity to teach abroad. I was going to work at a public school. I was going to take time away from institutional education.

All of that felt pretty good. Many of the people I work with now were all going to be doing these sorts of things. Joining Presidential campaigns, teaching English abroad… very wonderful things.

Then I went to India.

I reconnected with my grandmother - we were able to pick up right where we left off 5 years ago. I was able to look into her eyes and see a woman who is surviving the trauma of partition in ‘47 every day. A woman who was praying for her daughters every day. A woman who is doing her duty as a wife every day. I was able to see what she was really saying to me while reliving and retelling stories about her life:

Do your work. Live a life that was better than mine.

I came back and now it literally feels like every breath I take is coated by this verbal framework.

I started to feel very incomplete in my answers to the question “So…do you know what you’re going to do after you graduate?”

I started to feel like I was hiding something from everyone; there was a feeling in me that felt…off, somehow - to be honest, I wish I could explain it better. Actually, I can.

It was Guilt.

Guilt in wanting to continue to pursue higher education. Guilt in not wanting to be eager to answer the call for secondary public school teachers. Guilt at wanting to be an academic in postcolonial studies. Guilt in choosing theory over praxis. Guilt in having to put myself into more debt than I can even conceive of right now. I feel guilty because the work that I feel called to do doesn’t seem like great work.

And of course, at the root of all guilt lies privilege. And it’s a privilege for me to be able to even think of graduate school. It’s a privilege that I’m at a private institution that can give me the resources and advice I need to get into graduate school.

But all we can do with privilege is tell guilt to go to hell and do the work we can do with it. Putting privilege to good use is all we can do. It doesn’t go away no matter how much we attempt to banish or ignore it. And it definitely doesn’t go away when we coat it over and over with superficial recognition, whining, and guilt.

I think it was Audre Lorde that asks in her letter to..Mary Daly I believe: I’m doing my work, are you doing yours?

So the question is, what does it mean for me to do my work. It means pursuing what I am passionate about, finding the means to doing this, and then using this as a space to influence and motivate others to do their work. Theory doesn’t need to be mutually exclusive from praxis.

Graduate school, here I come.

Now all I need to do is figure out how to go about graduate school. Because I don’t really know. And I’m very scared of so many things, including not getting in, not being able to afford it (actually I know I can’t afford it — I guess I mean, not being able to find a way to manage the costs), not being capable or qualified enough, not finding a program in California, and of course, having second thoughts about going at all.

Will it be worth it?

There is much more to say about it. But I will bring it up again when I’ve done some research.