newness

It’s practically the third week of classes and I’m still adjusting. I should be used to being the new kid, having moved every 3 years for most of my life. But I got comfortable in graduate school. There were sets of expectations and while sometimes it took a while to become aware of everyone’s agenda, I always remained “just a graduate student.” I could excuse myself from situations; I could not be involved. I was secure in my position, in understanding what was required of me. As a graduate student my life was far from simple and I don’t mean to imply that everything was smooth sailing or easy. It certainly wasn’t. I struggled for the first two years of my program, trying to find a place to belong among my peers and in my course of study. But once I found it, the last two years of my Ph.D. program I felt, for the most part, that I knew my role and was comfortable and confident in it.

Becoming the new kid once again is an adjustment for me. I’m never sure how much to contribute via email, listservs and forums. I’m never sure exactly what to say in meetings. I’m the youngest in the department in age and experience. But then again there’s something about my perspective that they needed which is why they hired me.

So the past few weeks I’ve been getting my footing. I haven’t been writing here because I’m adjusting to my new schedule and I haven’t been sure what to say. I haven’t read any blogs in 2 weeks. I’m still learning how to manage my time and with about an hour commute a day by the time I get home I want to eat dinner, watch TV and go to sleep. Doesn’t leave much time for blogging. But once things get settled down I’ll be able to get back to it. Because all this stuff swirling around in my head needs somewhere to go.

heroes and intention

Wow. I’ve been away from the blog a while, now. So much has been happening it’s been difficult to process, to find ways to say and make sense of all of the changes I’m experiencing from graduate student to professional. Mostly, I’ve spent as much time as possible playing WoW and watching Heroes. (Thanks Joe for turning me on to it.) I’ve discovered that where I once did not have the time/mental space to deal with a show like Heroes or Dexter , I am enjoying both immensely. I’d tried watching Dexter several times, when it first came out and a few months ago, but it never took. And then I watched the whole season 1 in a few days.

What I’ll say about Heroes, and I’m only in Season One right now, is that from the point of a view of a writer I think it’s amazing. The storylines, most of them, are incredibly complex with a lot of threads and I am impressed that, for the most part, the plots are surprising, and do a good job of carrying through from one story to the next. Of course, it might help that I’m watching them one right after another.

I’ve also been working on syllabi for my classes which has taken way more time than I expected it to, though I’ve always found syllabi building time-consuming, particularly when accompanied by design challenges. I usually build my syllabi as part of a course website. Millikin uses Moodle as a CMS and created pages for us if we want to use them. So now, I’m building pdf’s in InDesign which presents its own unique issues. Orientation was last week and I met some cool new faculty from other departments during the first few days. One I’ll be working with closely as we are part of a first-year component sequence where students in his University Seminars are in my Critical Writing Reading and Rhetoric courses (CWRR, known affectionately as critter). We plan to collaborate and share ideas on how to forge connections between the classes.

I’m overwhelmed and excited. I love this part of a new beginning where the possibilities seem endless. I was talking to someone, also a new faculty member, during orientation about my ideas (I have a lot of them) and she said, “Wow. You’re ambitious.” I was taken aback because most of my connotations of ambition are negative ones. But then today during a phone conversation with my grandmother I remarked that I have a lot of expectations of myself and that I’m trying to be realistic and prioritize things. And she said, “You have to have those expectations to move forward. Otherwise, you just go to work and do your job and come home. You want more than that.” I thought, okay, maybe that kind of ambition isn’t so bad. I have to admit and plenty of people have told me that I’m driven, often single-mindedly so. I do want to accomplish a lot in my career. I want to excel and succeed. But I’m wary of embracing ambition wholeheartedly because I want to remain grateful, and ethical and conscious of my actions. I want to be intentional.

Maybe, I’ve been watching too much Heroes.

Meetings and Convocation begin tomorrow. Classes start Tuesday.

books that changed my life: undergraduate edition

My father suggested I read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt. He’d found it engaging, insightful and accurately Southern, which intrigued me. He gave me his copy and in the weeks before I began college I couldn’t put it down. There was something about the way Berendt wrote, the way he described the kinds of people who’d filled my girlhood, eccentric, crazy but also alarmingly friendly men and women, ready to share others’ secrets but not their own. I loved the detail in his writing, and the way the South seemed to come alive in his words. I had not been to Savannah but I’ve been wanting to go ever since. Perhaps one day, I will get there. Of course, the story itself is salacious in all of its gossipy, spectacular glory complete with voodoo priestesses and courtroom drama. Berendt captures the contradictions of the South wonderfully. If you’ve seen the film I suggest you try to the book and if you’re not familiar with either, you should definitely check out the book first because many of the most colorful characters are missing from the film. I fell in love with this book and slipped suddenly and unknowingly into my past and out again. I was able to understand things about the South because Berendt was an outsider who could see what I could not, who could say what I could not. It was the first time I was able to see how important distance is when it comes to understanding, particularly when one is trying to reach understanding about their past, about their home and how the two are all tied up together.

Last Night on Earth Poems by Charles Bukowski is, I think, the last collection of his poems published while he was alive. It was the first Bukowski collection I read and houses some of my favorite Buk poems like Young in New Orleans, Are You Drinking, Dinosauria, We and Death is Smoking My Cigars. It isn’t entirely surprising that a lot of these poems are about death and dying. And though I know Bukowski was a drunk, a womanizer and a gambler, he was also honest about being all of those things. His poetry influenced me as a young poet, both in style and approach. It made me feel as though I had something to say and that I could say it, no matter what it was, as long as it was honest. Later, my advisers would ask me if I considered my work confessional and I could see why they categorized it as such, but it was more Bukowski honesty than confession. Admittedly, he was probably not the best mentor for a girl like me or perhaps he was so wrong he was right. Either way, like most lost 20 year old girls in the middle of something they don’t understand, I struggled to make sense of the world around me and my place in it. Bukowski helped me fill in the blanks. There was something remarkable about how I took to him but I think most people who loved him feel that way. In many ways, it began a love affair poets who are also assholes which ended with a guy who was an asshole who called himself a poet. But that’s a story for another day. I still love the sincerity, the rawness, and the unabashed honesty in Bukowski’s work. But reading him always reminds me of a certain time in my life that would have been very different without this collection of poems.

The Art of the Personal Essay ed Phillip Lopate began my love affair with narrative as a writer. Though I’d included my family in many of my poems and fictions and loved reading essays, I never considered writing them. Then I took a course in Fall of my senior year and we read Lopate’s collection. During the course and long after this collection of essays impacted how I thought about my experiences, how to record them, how to live them. My writing opened in ways I hadn’t imagined, probably couldn’t imagine. Much later, in my Ph.D. program I would learn more about narrative and others’ work would stand as a bookend to Lopate’s beginning. This collection, though, melded my creative and scholarly writing, the kind of writing that would fill my dissertation. Lopate’s own essay, “Portrait of My Body” influenced me greatly as well, though it isn’t included in the collection here I highly recommend it.

I read The Awakening by Kate Chopin my senior undergraduate year. It created a paradigm shift for me in the way I thought about what it meant to be a writer, a woman, a mother, a Southerner. Chopin is an amazing writer. As soon as I finished The Awakening I tried to read everything she wrote. “The Story of an Hour” and “The Storm” are probably her best well known and some of my favorites. But The Awakening changed my life. I was suddenly, acutely aware of all the advantages I had that Edna did not:all the opportunities to which I had access. And yet, Edna represented many of the things I wanted to be in that she was a rebel, a maverick. She did and said what she wanted though she ultimately paid for refusal to fit into society. The novel is about expectations.The expectations of society, relationships, individuals, place and what happens when there are discrepancies between any of the above. I am not sure if I can completely explain exactly how or why this novel changed my life. There’s something incredibly elusive about its influence; yet it’s always there in my recollections. Before I read the book, I was a certain way and after I read it, I was completely different in significant but intangible ways. I wrote a poem about Edna and when I find it I will post it here for you.

Up next: the master’s edition: vampires, Irish writers and more

acknowledgments

Because not all of you will be burdened with reading my dissertation I decided to reprint my acknowledgments section here so that those of you who have been included will be aware of your influence and how much I appreciate you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I looked forward to writing this section of my dissertation before I began writing chapters not only because it would signal completion but also because it gives me an opportunity to recognize those without whom the document you are holding would have been nearly impossible. As academics and writers we do not work alone. So many people have contributed to my growth as a student, intellectual and as a person. This dissertation is about intersections of identity and nowhere are the intersections of my life more evident than in the diverse and wonderful people who share it with me.

For those of you who have lived this dissertation along with me, who not only stood by me but became interwoven into the project, I cannot express to you the depth of my heartfelt thanks. I have not made it an easy year for those close to me and I appreciate all of your support and kindness when I needed it most.

Michelle, you create the gravity for all that I do. I often say that you make things matter to me, things I would not notice because I’m so busy rattling around in my head. Thank you seems a small sentiment to offer in exchange for your steadfast belief that I can accomplish great things. You are my North Star.

Marie, who acted as my fourth committee member, you have taught me so much about friendship, about scholarship, about teaching. So many of my favorite stories begin with you. From the moment we met, we’ve been in the trenches together. I can’t imagine a better friend to have by my side when things go dark. This work is just as much yours as it is mine.

Oren, thank you for answering your phone even at odd hours, and for the late night conversations along with the constant reminders that finishing this dissertation was possible. You helped me get my voice back and for that I am forever grateful. I share with you my homeland and I hope you recognize how our talks about home factor into my understandings here.

Joe, who has known many sides of me, who helped me hone my creative side and who is always willing to listen. You have given more than you know to this project, to our friendship. And I thank you for being along for the ride.

It has been a great privilege to spend the past five years in the Department of English. I have benefited greatly from the generosity and support of many faculty members throughout my time here. Dr. Bob McLaughlin challenged my notions of how a story could be told. I will be forever grateful for his kindness during my first Ph.D. literature course. The project I began in his course has developed in both direct and indirect ways into this dissertation.

Dr. Hilary Justice was instrumental in my progress. She taught me to trust myself as I explored intersections that seemed to make me vulnerable. Our lunch conversations during my comprehensive semester rescued me. I consider myself fortunate to have studied with Dr. Justice both on an intellectual and personal level.

Dr. Amy Robillard deeply affected my narrative style. She taught me that narrative and academic writing not only work in tandem but belong together. Though not directly involved with this project on a day-to-day basis, her influence is ever-present.

The members of my dissertation committee have been remarkable. Whether they were spending time in the middle of an airport to talk about my project or quickly turning around drafts, I felt constantly supported by Dr. Jim Kalmbach, Dr. Lee Brasseur and Dr. Jan Neuleib. My relationships with each of them began early in my Ph.D. program. Some of my fondest memories in intellectual development took place in their classes. It is easy to see the intersections of my study through my committee members and my work in and outside of their classrooms.

Throughout my time in the English Department, Dr. Jim Kalmbach has displayed boundless enthusiasm in numerous roles: Professor, designer, Associate Chair, mentor, dissertation director. He is adept at working with students and faculty, simultaneously. I presented quite a challenge to Jim as I am opinionated and strong-willed and we often were at odds through the dissertation process. What I have learned from Jim cannot possibly fit on the page. I discovered my professional identity from him as he worked to help me cultivate my place within the field of Computers and Writing. I appreciate his insights and his optimism. I am forever changed as a teacher and as a human being for having worked with Dr. Kalmbach.

Special thanks go to my family, particularly my mother who has been unwavering in her belief in me since I first put pen to paper. My mother taught me to read but my father taught me that words have power. Together, my parents taught me how to make language soar and they never expect any less from me. My grandmother, whose financial support has made these five years possible and whose undeniable grace astounds me, still can’t pronounce Illinois but her encouragement is limitless. I also want to thank my brother for helping me with the formatting guidelines for this dissertation and for all the ways he reminds me that home, is what you make of it.

And to all the people and places that have been home to me as I wrote and revised: the coffeehouses and restaurants, bookstores and workplaces, I thank you.

the great printer rebellion of 2008

I always tell my students “It is not a question of IF technology will fail you only a question of when it will do so, most likely a crucial moment. You have to be prepared for anything.” Typically, the technology failing is the printer. It is a technology that holds a lot of power. I know this because every single time I need to print something and I have limited time to turn something in the printers in my life rebel against me. Case in point: last night I went to print the dissertation and my printer refused the print job. It seemed to me the printer was just being pouty. M wrangled with it for a while but it was stubborn in its refusal and we finally left it alone.

I thought I had a great plan: to print at Marie’s. It seemed like thinsg would go well, we printed signature pages I needed signed and headed off to a very nice lunch at Destihl. (Ask me later about the asparagus spears and cheese curds, a little taste of heaven, I think.) After almost leaving the forms (in the infamous manila envelope) on the table, we head off to get the last signature. We pick up printer ink and Diet Pepsi at Walgreens where I proceed to drive about five blocks in the wrong direction while Marie stares blankly. When I ask why am I going this way?, we make some incredibly inappropriate jokes related to a Gilmore Girls’ episode and almost suffocate with laughter on the way home. The printers, however, were not amused and neither of Marie’s 2 printers wanted to cooperate. I think they silently disapproved of our comments but whatever. The HP All-in-One is resolute in his non-cooperation. There are flashing lights and error messages. It’s a blatant disregard for our authority. What hot-headed machines. The HP laserjet apparently does not get along with Macs. I don’t know the sordid history there but I am sure there is one and I bet it involves tequila.

Thankfully, Marie has her old HP, rickety and haggard though it may be, that carries a torch for the laserjet and will do anything it asks, so we’re hoping to capitalize on that relationship and get all 3 dissertation copies printed so we can have a slumber party later. I smell cotton candy.

and all i had to do was defend a dissertation

It is likely that most of you know my dissertation defense was today. In typical Devon fashion, I show up barely on time, perhaps a minute or so late and without forms needed to file for graduation. Again, in typical fashion I begin to panic. Of course, much of the stress and panic of the day has been rising in me since my shower but I can no longer resist or fend it off. It shows in my face and my voice. I am visibly stressed and shaken and cannot think. It does not occur to me to worry about it later or to calm down enough to listen to what people are telling me about these particular forms and how they’re mostly for the graduate school filing and the important forms are the ones Michelle printed for me. I can think of none of this because all of a sudden I realize I am unprepared. I can’t do this and I totally suck.

So I ask if someone can go look in my car (across town) for the forms. Michelle and Des leave and make it back for about 5 minutes of the actual defense and the forms are no where to be found. Michelle took the day off to run around and look for stuff I left in Champaign. I think she is trying for sainthood.

Ultimately, everything turned out okay. The forms can be signed on Wednesday when I return to Bloomington for lunch with my committee. I passed the defense and am officially Dr. Fitzgerald. Marie made the most delicious, seriously so good it is wrong chocolate raspberry cake in celebration. And everyone loved it. Of course, I have to think it influenced the committee to keep things on track because they kept looking over at the cake like “when is this girl going to stop talking so we can eat some cake?”

It was that good. The cake, not the defense. I met a woman once who baked a special pound cake with chocolate chips in them for people she knew who had just had babies. Everyone liked it so much they began requesting for all occasions. The chocolate raspberry cake was so wonderful, I think it will become like the baby pound cake. First, Marie will make them only for dissertation defenses and then it will become a phenomenon. Of course, if we’re leaving it up to me to bake when it comes to her diss. defense we might be in trouble.

I expected to feel euphoria but instead I feel overwhelmed, like so many emotions are running through me I am not sure how to process it all. I am incredibly humbled by all of the people who came to the defense today or messaged me on Facebook, or texted or called to wish me luck. It is an incredible experience when you realize how many people are rooting for your success. The attention has been overwhelming.

So, thank you to all of you.

Also, if you hit refresh on your browser you will see the new banner which updates my status from Ph.D student to person with a Ph.D.

transitions are exhausting

When I turned 30 my ex told me that my body would begin to betray me. That I would feel differently after working out or doing anything remotely strenuous. After moving two days in a row (and I was not carrying heavy stuff or working the whole time) I see what he means. Yes, I would probably be sore anyway but the way that I ache now has a lot to do with age combined with the amount of work we’ve been doing. Michelle had to work at Circuit City tonight and I don’t know how she is doing it. I am exhausted. And we move big stuff (furniture) and whatever is left tomorrow. Thankfully, we’ve had amazing friends helping us yesterday, today and tomorrow.

We made significant progress today but as I look around the apartment I feel like there is so much left to do. It’s overwhelming how much stuff I have and I’m not sure how, why or when I acquired it all. I will be very glad when this tumultous week is over. I am excited to get settled in new places and I am exhausted by the transitions.

reality defense

Trying to coordinate three professors’ summer schedules with their aerobics classes and kids’ summer camps and whatever else is going on– is like a comedy of errors. Tuesday I met with the Dissertation Examiner for a format check on the version of my diss. without the screenshots I had planned to include. I needed written permission for most of them and did not have time to get it as I’m running pretty close to the deadlines for graduation. Though I still had a few things I needed to reformat, I was able to get the much coveted “Right to Defend” Form which I needed to schedule my dissertation defense. Form in hand, I went to the department office to schedule the room, date and time. And like much of this process, quickly turned into me running around in circles. One time wouldn’t work for one person and another time there was no location available. When there was a location available at a time that worked, one person didn’t like the room that was available. I was literally running between the offices trying to figure out all of the details. I left the office feeling exhausted without any specific plans being made except that there were 2 viable options to choose from. I was waiting to hear back from one committee member about which of the times worked best; I already knew that either would probably work but wanted to be sure. I was disappointed that when I got home I would not instantly see the announcement “Devon Fitzgerald’s dissertation defense has been scheduled…” But I also did not want to choose a time that was inconvenient and put my defense further behind. So I waited. When by around 3 I had not heard from anyone, I decided to choose one of the times and locations we’d previously talked about. So, my defense is officially scheduled for Monday, July 28 at 2 p.m. in Williams 308. Dissertation defenses are open to whoever wants to attend so it will be interesting to see who shows up. I know some of my friends are coming and M’s mom. I hope they are not bored. My thesis defense was full of people, a mix of family, colleagues and friends. We’ll see how this one goes. I am a bit nervous, I have to say.

We’re moving this weekend. I’m also nervous and excited about that. Lots and lots of changes coming up. Last night I felt like I was going to have a panic attack over the sheer amount of change coming in a short number of days. I’ve waited so long for all of this to happen; I dreamed about it and stressed and worried about the possibilities. I’m not quite sure what to do with the realities.

books that changed my life: adolescence

The last post on books that changed my life took me to about age 12. As I entered adolescence my life was forever changed not only because I had become a teenager but also because of a series of events that would shape my life long after I left adolescence behind. During this time books were both a source of understanding and a space of solace. The books on this list reflect that range.

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
What I love about Great Expectations is the atmosphere of mystery and intrigue. But it’s also sad and dark. I was fascinated by the story and the way it reflected yearning. Though Pip eventually finds success and moves up the social ladder, he struggles to understand his new social position and it never endears him to his love, Estella. In his success, Pip is never really content. And even at the end, as Pip’s social status returns to where it began, he is ultimately resigned to the choices before him. Great Expectations was the first book that made me think about the consequences of wanting. During a time in my life when I wanted to be anyone else, anywhere else, a part of anyone else’s family but my my own, reading this book complicated the desire to fulfill wishes that would make my life feel easier. I think Great Expectations is about gratefulness as much as it is about social class, suffering and redemption. At least, in part, that’s what it taught me.

Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
For a kid with an active imagination who often wanted to escape her life, as most teens do, the characters, the philosophy and the strangeness of this novel provided me with much needed release. I still love the book and had a “un-birthday” party this year and I was Queen of Hearts for Halloween. I still find joy with the story and I remember my first reading of it. I asked my father a lot of the riddles and it was one of the few times during my early teen years that we really connected over the philosophical underpinnings. It helped reinforce the idea that a story is not always what it seems.

I read Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald the summer I decided I was too developed, too uncomfortable in a swimsuit to spend all day at the pool. So Dick Diver and his gang were my companions. Though I did not comprehend, not fully, the nuances of the characters or the plot, I was engrossed with the inner workings of the group of people. The level of manipulation and strangeness among the characters struck me, even at 14. By then I knew a bit about the cruelty of the world. Though upon my re-reading of the novel, I found myself disturbed by the portrayal of women as manipulative and controlling but given F. Scott’s own experiences I suppose I can understand it. This novel allowed me a glimpse into an adult world, a world that I already knew was full of secrets and sadness. As I struggled to understand my parents, as I disagreed with them on almost everything, reading this novel was my search for clues. What I found was both enlightening and disappointing, feelings I would learn often coexist.

Most people cite Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead as a life-changing book but for me it was her novella Anthem. I read this right after I moved to Pensacola from a small Alabama town where everyone knew everyone else. I was struggling to adjust to my new environment and I landed in an AP English course where I read for the first time. I was fascinated by the story of a society where “I” is an Unmentionable Word. I appreciated the rebellion of Equality and his inventiveness. My love of dystopic fiction was born upon finishing this novel. And I began to understand the power of voice, of one person asking, “Why?”

All of these books (in some way) are about consequence, something that as an adolescent resonated with the word Responsibility, a word I hated to hear from my mother’s mouth. “Be responsible.” I take responsibility seriously, sometimes too seriously. I learned about the realities of responsibility and inaction from my mother and these books further deepened my understanding and challenged my thinking about what responsibility looks like in action.

codebreaking

As you can see I have made some changes to the blog. I’m hoping this design and structure will support comments unlike the previous one I tried. I’m pretty happy with the changes aesthetically, so as long as I can receive and make comments I’ll be sticking with this structure for a while.

In dissertation news, I am waiting to hear back from the person at Milner who advises on copyright. See, in my chapter two I have some screenshots from my profiles and widgets on last.fm (which changed its site design sometime while I was in dissertation land and so some of my images may no longer seem relevant), GoodReads, as well as a shot from my own blog. The Dissertation Examiner was not sure about using them so we sent the question to the expert and I’m waiting to see what she says. I’ll pull them out if I have to have specific permission because there just isn’t time to track down the necessary permission. Not to mention I’d have no idea who to ask anyway. It’s interesting to see the kinds of issues that arise when studying social media.

As soon as I know whether I can use the images or not, I can submit my dissertation for the second format check and receive my right to defend form and schedule my defense. I think I’ve managed to correct all the formatting mistakes I made. Formatting is kind of like coding html and trying to figure out why something is not showing up right on your webpage. A lot of my dissertation process could be described as trying to figure out and break the code.

Hopefully, I will know something tomorrow.

For now, I’m packing, test driving cars and redesigning blogs. I got my Illinois Driver’s License recently. I felt a bit silly but I was kind of excited about it. I think because it signals a kind of permanence, finally. Michelle also added me to her car insurance since it turns out only the car was listed on my Gran’s insurance and not me. Strange.

Even though we are a bit stressed because we begin moving on Friday, everything feels a lot more even keeled in my life than it has for the past year, which is a relief.

Thanks for hanging around while things were in turmoil.