Break!

My Thanksgiving break officially started today at noon. I submitted my 40+ page paper this morning at 11:03am, just in time to head out for a parting breakfast for two of my three wonderful guests that visited this weekend. Most people in the program jetted out this past Thursday. Two of us will remain for the entire break (there is another still around, but he leaves Wednesday). 

This week will be full of many visitors, many lunch dates, many dinner dates, many museum trips, and many heart-to-hearts. And yet I will still find time for that extra research and writing. 

But, my goodness, I didn't realize how heavily everything has been weighing down on me. Turning this draft in was such a relief! After I submitted the draft, and as we sat in the cutesie cafe for our late breakfast today, I exhaled in a way that I haven't in a while. And tonight at the Thai restaurant with my dear friend (a recent Kenyon grad), and two first-year Kenyon friends of mine, I exhaled a bit more. And I've just done it again. 

Now, we will eat some ice-cream and watch a movie in my warm and cozy apartment. I'll likely distract myself, every now and again, by looking out the window to see if tonight's snow will stick.

Not quite.

It's 10:37pm. I'm sitting in my apartment with all three lights on, and it's still pretty dark. But I won't complain because our handbook told us to bring our own lamps for extra light, and I obviously ignored that advice. I guess I just didn't imagine that I would write in my apartment. I imagined writing everything in the library. But that just doesn't happen. Not quite.

It's a Friday night, and I'm working on my draft. Outside, the taxis lay on their horns, and people scream at one another.  Inside, I'm wondering how much more I'll actually accomplish tonight. 

(People--specifically the bar-goers in this neighborhood--yell the weirdest things! I could write entire stories based on the conversations I hear from inside my apartment.) (It's great for eavesdropping!) (Why, again, haven't I written any poems here? I would have some great material!)

As great as these conversations (and sometimes arguments) are, these are the days when I miss the (semi-) quietude of my college town. City-life is fantastic, but I'm finding that, despite having lived in a city for eighteen years, it doesn't quite work for me anymore. But when I think about the fact that I haven't had the same adventure twice here, I remember how great it is to have access to so many excellent things. 

Except quietness. Which is an excellent thing that is hard to find, when you aren't at the library. 

Ah. So, *this* is how it works:

Use the weekend to think about it. Go to office hours on Monday. Focus. Think of the idea (out of the many that are in the paper right now) that you want to write about most. Ah! there's your thesis. And now think through the setbacks (and even talk to some of your Kenyon people about them). You'll find that they were not setbacks, just more interesting complications. (This is a good thing.) On your walk home, smile to yourself as you think about how much easier this would be if you had a muse. Continue to smile when you realize that you actually do, in some ways. When you get home, map an outline. No, really: map it. Draw it out, diagram style. Organize your thoughts. Structure your ideas and themes. Write. Make some tea, and drink out of your Superwoman mug from the Alicia Keys concert. Breathe a little easier. And don't forget to take heart. You can do it. Just keep writing and thinking and developing and pushing. Now you're starting to get the hang of this thing.

Quick pick-me-up.

Turns out that visitors, and a talent show/potluck dinner this weekend were just what I needed. 

Friday night, we had our ACM Newberry Talent Show and Potluck dinner. I can't tell you how happy I am that it turned out to be such a great evening. Everyone that was in town contributed to the potluck dinner AND performed a talent. And our professors cooked some of the best soup I've had in a long time. 

After dinner, the talent show portion of the night started with an awesomely entertaining performance of the Calypso dance from Beetlejuice. Awe. Some. I was the emcee of the talent show, and ended up "performing" thrice. There was an amazing Spicegirls/Diana Ross and the Supremes/Three Dog Night/Bobby Vinton medley, a nursery rhyme reading in *six* different languages, some autoharp playing, some guitar playing and chinese love song recitation, a creative writing flash fiction dedication, some super intense juggling, a performance of "I'd Be Surprisingly Good For You" by Evita, a dramatic reading (which channeled a muse!) of three chapters from a 1952 etiquette book, a reading of poems by insomniacs as well as a poem read for speed in good, high school debate fashion, a performance on how to make bread, and finally (or so I thought...) some saxophone playing. 

***stretches fingers after typing that long sentence***

I'm sure that my guests appreciated meeting the people I've come to know, in this particular way! 

On Saturday, me and my guests ate, shopped, ate, shopped, napped, ate, coffeed (I know that it's not a *real* word, but it *should* be!), prepared for bed, had tea, and slept some good sleep. After a nice breakfast at the Original Pancake House this morning, my guests headed back to Gambier. My heart feels a little empty whenever I say good bye to people. Be it a telephone, instant message, or in-person good bye. But it won't be long before I see them again. 

It was so good to have them here, and to be able to vent about what I've been calling my Tragedy AKA my-setback-that-has-turned-my-research-into-bits-and-pieces-of-incoherent-ideas-arguments-and-words. But I won't be talking about that on this blog. Only about how, starting tomorrow, I will approach this setback and my incoherent pages with a ready attitude.

Our 40-page drafts are due next Monday. That Monday also kicks off our week long Thanksgiving break. So this week will be about working, writing, and thinking like I've learned to! I will get the job done. I believe that.

This post's picture is of my group's performance (the medley) for the talent show. This is the only picture I'm posting, because I haven't asked permission to post anyone else's. What a great way to take a break from the intensity of the program, and cool down for a night, over some great food with our professors. 

As I went up to end the show and thank everyone, a few members of the crowd interrupted, "but Janae, you didn't do a solo talent!" I responded, "Do I seriously need to do a solo talent? I've been up here all night," They said yes. And so I recited my most favorite poem, "As Kingfishers Catch Fire" by Gerard Manley Hopkins. 

"Yes."

A classmate-friend of mine took that funny picture of me while I was writing in the library today. I took the camera from her, and took a picture from my point of view. I almost always build some sort of fort with my books when I go into the library to research and write. It keeps me focused.

The other day I received this (below) surprise in the mail from a guy friend at Kenyon. He had been painting to relieve some stress, and painted me a picture of Kenyon in the fall. He thought that I might enjoy seeing a piece of fall from Kenyon. I hadn't even told him how much I missed it.

This Friday is the program's potluck dinner and talent show, organized by Professor Schell and I. The rule is if you don't perform a talent, you don't eat. And lets just say that I've proved to be quite persuasive and everyone (including our professors!) is planning to perform. But at about the same time that dinner is supposed to start on Friday, my two weekend visitors from Gambier should be arriving. As much as I'm looking forward to seeing those two wonderful women, I'll admit that I'm worried about how much writing I'll manage to get done while they're here.

There is a sign on the back of a newspaper stand on the corner of our block that reads:

"Yes" We are open 24 hours.

I have it posted on the sidebar of this blog. We've been laughing at this sign for three months now, and still haven't decided why the yes is being hugged by quotation marks. Does it mean "yes" as in, "we only say we're open 24 hours but we really aren't?" I like to think so.We know that it's probably just meant to emphasize the "yes," but it's more fun to debate the meaning. Sometimes, if we are out pretty late, we even check to see if anyone is inside the small stand. And so far they've always been there, even if they were sound asleep.

"Yes," I'm calm.

"No," I'm not worried.

"No," I'm not freaking out.

But, yes, it will all work out just fine. I believe that.

Drafting.

Did you know that there are at least thirteen definitions for draft? And that's only on the Merriam Webster Online Dictionary. AND that's only for its noun form. Heaven only knows what might have happened to my brain tonight if I had access to the OED from my apartment. 

I've come to appreciate turning in drafts to our professors here. If it weren't for those deadlines, there is a good chance that I may not have been as far into the paper as I am right now. The kind of drafting we are doing is pretty close to the second definition of the transitive verb form: "[drawing] the preliminary sketch, version, or plan of" (MWOD). But I'd like to think of them as being closest to the fifth definition of the noun form, which calls a draft a scheme. It's true--we are scheming! We have each found projects and topics that excite the kind of passion in us that independent research fosters. The scheming comes in when we work to get others excited about the project, and prove to them that our arguments are worth reading and discussing.

I was working on this week's thirty-page draft today when I first thought to myself, "What does it even *mean* to draft?!" There is a very simple way to answer that question. But that's no fun. So, quite naturally, I looked up the word's definition. Finding out that I needed to scroll down the page to read all of the definitions, I started thinking about what some of these various drafts have meant for me this semester. 

I can identify with definitions 1-6, 9, and 11-13 of the noun form, and definitions 1 and 2 of the verb form. (Some of the identifications are a stretch, but where there's a will, there's a way. Many of the definitions use terms that make it so easy to use creative liberties.)

The thirty-page draft is due in T minus five days. The forty-page draft is due in T minus fifteen days. The paper is due in T minus twenty-nine days.

This program offers us many worlds. Not only are we writing these research papers, but we are living in a fabulous city, taking a seminar with great professors, spending a semester away from our campuses (and becoming familiar with what that even means for--and to--us), and experiencing some serious intellectual growth, to name a few things. But still, especially these days, I'm missing many of the great people in my life.

I missed my grandmother's call on Sunday, because I was out to dinner at an excellent Ethiopian restaurant with six other people in the program. Being the sports fanatic that she is, my grandmother left a message letting me know that her Cleveland Cavaliers were going to beat my Chicago Bulls. My immediate response when I called her back was, "When exactly did they become my Chicago Bulls? and does that mean that, somehow, I've lost my status as a Clevelander because I've been away?" She laughed.

In a little under five weeks, on a Sunday, I'll be back in Cleveland. Today, when I realized that our time here is winding down, I got really sad. I've met some great people here, and it will be weird to not be around them once this program is over. 

I'm already finding comfort in the fact that, for at least a few weeks, I'll be going back to some of the things and people I've missed the most. 

This evening, four of us watched The Sting, and, as always, we laughed and joked with one another, while still managing to pay close attention to the movie. I'm already missing these small types of things with this group of people, and I'm not even gone yet. 

On another note, I won't miss the significant draft (henh. Forgive me, but it's true!) that comes through my window, even though it's closed. Partly because I'm anticipating the warmth that being around my closest friends from Ohio will bring me, just before I head off to do this thing all over again in England.

 

Just keep swimming.

We are knee-deep in research and writing. In very few ways, this week has been lighter than usual because the next draft is not due until Friday 14 November. But we are all pressing on, and working hard. I am not really feeling discouraged, but I am learning about the intensity of independent research papers. I have to keep reminding myself to continue to work, even when I feel inclined to take a break. It is always better to stay ahead. Sometimes work is reading. Most times work is writing. Other times, work is thinking. My goal for the rest of the semester is to work for at least seven hours a day. I am going to just keep swimming.

In other news, after working on my paper and working at my job in Special Collections today, I am taking the evening off. I am going to see the Margaret Garner opera at the Auditorium Theatre. This will be my first big adventure alone, since I have been here. But with my excellent seat and this most heartrending of fugitive slave stories being performed, I will be more than OK. With the opera being centered around a fugitive slave, it will probably be hard for me to not think about my research. And so I will end up putting in a couple of "work" hours anyway. :)

Exhausted.

I cannot decide whether tonight's post will be about my time in Grant Park last night, how full I have been feeling all day, or something totally different.

This morning, my city-walking-face morphed into my I-am-so-happy-that-America-wants-change face. There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it from happening. And there was nothing that I wanted to do to stop it either.

As if it were not significant enough to me before, I find myself more and more invested in my research.  I know that this is a young love, but it feels so real. A friend of mine, a first-year graduate student at Yale, sent me a message with a subject line asking, "did you ever read this?" This is one of my most favorite subjects to read in my inbox, after "dude!" and "really?" Messages like those usually promise to reveal something cool.

This particular message led me to Frederick Douglass's short and simple, yet loaded, speech "What I Would Do If I Were President,"  which rocked me on at least two levels. 

The first level is all about my research. A couple of days ago, I finally decided to use Frederick Douglass's narratives in my research, along with Henson's narratives. This was a huge decision for me. It means that many pages that are already written may not find their way into the final draft at all, which is something I expected, but in a far different way. And although I have been reading all of these narratives with a more suspicious eye, after reading articles on and by the "masters of the hermeneutics of suspicion" in this seminar, I do my best to keep in mind my subjects' humanity and the more simple reasons that they tell their stories. I am just trying to treat their texts the way that I feel they deserve to be treated.

I am all about authorship, audience, memory, and trauma (though trauma may turn into body soon). These themes and all of their theories have me wrapped around their metaphorical fingers until (at least) 8 December at midnight.

For now, I am taking a *very* short break from my research and taking part in this Obama-mania!

 

 

Last night's historic election results made me susceptible to being rocked on the second level. I think that it should go without saying that we, as a country, have been needing the kind of change that President-elect Obama promises for a while now. That we might finally be able to address and conquer concerns leaders had over a century and a half ago makes my heart all the more happy.

The countdown to the California polls started at 7 seconds. As soon as the countdown ended, CNN projected an Obama victory. The crowd went absolutely wild with excitement. But just as soon as the excitement and noise started, it stopped. The wave of silence was unreal to me. There was not a face around me that was not stained with tears of joy. Everyone hugged everyone. No matter the race, gender, height, age--nothing stopped everyone in Grant Park from showing one another how important that moment was! It was like a huge love-fest, full of people that were just excited for change.

YES WE DID.  

Election Day!

GET OUT THERE AND VOTE TODAY! As for the Newberry Seminar, we all voted early! And some of us will be at Grant Park tonight, to (hopefully) witness the results of one of the most historic elections ever. Vote smart and informed!

Peer Review.

Peer reviewing, in my opinion, is one of *the* most difficult things to do. Yet when it's done right, it is quite rewarding. Our lovely professors partnered us up, and we exchanged our twenty page drafts this weekend. We have a list of questions to answer after going over our partner's paper. I am confident that everyone in this program will do it right. Once we receive our drafts from our partners, we are supposed to discuss the papers with one another. Then, the draft owners will write a cover letter responding to the peer-editing,  and we will hand everything in to our professors at our brown bag lunch on Tuesday.

Things are happening. They really, really are!