Inadequacy

I recently attended a professionalization workshop and someone did my least favorite thing: they told us graduate students that we should “start last week” on completing a major project.

Sometimes our colleagues seems to use feelings of inadequacy as a crutch–limping toward productive work as they’re chased by demons of what should be done.

The Future Dr. Anderson mentioned this to the Future Dr. Gale (who just defended her dissertation!) about a month ago. She said that people seem to feel that it is expected to freak out and hem and haw about what they should be doing to prepare for a dissertation defense. But isn’t is possible that what one feels like doing while waiting for the defense (nothing) is actually good preparation? Here the Future Dr. Gale was with a near 300-page dissertation, feeling that she actually needed to be packing more potential sources into her head on the off-chance that someone would bring one of them up. (And if memory serves, the Future Dr. Gale got exactly zero questions about literary criticism outside of her own.)

There should be moments in our career where we feel accomplished, on top of things, like we are doing exactly what we should be doing.

Grant Writing as Hitchhiking

According to the Future Doctor Gale, you need to utilize hitchhiking skills to get grants.

When you’re standing on the side of the road, you need to project with your facial and body language that you are an asset to any car.

Likewise, when writing a grant, you want to give such a sense of momentum that the committee wants to become part of your project.

Having trouble writing?

Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

(I got this from the blogger of The Happiness Project, who got it from Voltaire.)

I’ve been finding it really difficult to write this week. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’ve started thinking about applying for jobs. It’s scary, and fear makes me not want to work.

But by imagining the perfect dissertation / job application, I’ve made the perfect the enemy of the good. Today, I can improve my draft without making it perfect, and that is not only worthwhile, it’s pretty much the only way I’m going to make progress.

Finding Your Argument

After I handed him very messy, fifty-page draft of a chapter that I had “no idea” what to do with, Prof. Cole Hutchison suggested I re-write the draft with no quoting. That way, I would avoid relying too heavily on quotes (a major weakness of the first draft) and would state a unique argument.

I didn’t take that advice at the time, but a few weeks ago, as I began Chapter 2, I set out to write a twenty-page chapter with almost no evidence.

I skipped around, writing wherever inspiration struck. And I wrote in relatively short spurts, simply trying to add a little each day.

One of the longest sections in my 18-page draft is the conclusion. There, I lay out all the main points I covered in the chapter. Of course, they seem a bit flimsy with no evidence to back them up. But unlike my first draft of Chapter 1, Chapter 2 is not a complete mess of tangents. It is compact. It is full of ideas.

The next time I dig through my notes, I will be digging with purpose. I know what I want to say–what I am saying.

Excerpt from “The Growing Life” blog

Everyone has moments in graduate school when they think they should be elsewhere. Early in my first school year at UT, I heard some classmates discussing how “most people don’t think.” They reasoned that being in graduate school allowed them to have a more contemplative, mentally engaged life.

Here’s the opposite perspective on that idea:

The Paradox of Intelligence

More intelligent people tend to have jobs that require very high levels of mental engagement (not to mention, longer work weeks). If you’re a doctor, lawyer, accountant, consultant, teacher, etc., then chances are your thoughts are consumed by work-related activities (and that you have less-than-average amounts of free time).

Highly intelligent people are more likely to exchange their brainpower for money, and less likely to retain much of said brainpower for themselves. They’re more likely to enroll in mentally demanding graduate programs and accept mentally demanding jobs. (In the western world we’re taught that if we have the capacity to be a doctor then it’s somehow a “waste” to work retail, make smoothies for a living, or become a farmer — even though a retailer worker, smoothie maker, or farmer get to own more of their thoughts).

Hence, the paradox of intelligence (POI) says that in general, the more intelligent you are, the less brainpower you’re likely to keep for yourself. The POI says that the smarter you are, the less you keep your mind for yourself. It says that the more intelligent you are, the greater the probability that an employer owns too much of your brainpower.

As a result of this paradox, intelligent people are losing the battle for their minds. They simply have less mental energy at the end of the day to ask the bigger questions. They have less mental energy and time needed to gain perspective.

from http://thegrowinglife.com/2008/04/the-battle-for-our-minds/

Beware the E-mail

For creative work, says this month’s issue of Poets and Writers, it’s important to avoid distractions like e-mail.  This is because we actually think better if there is less stuff in our brain.  Billy Collins supports this idea when he claims that boredom is his best inspiration for writing poems.  Since we can’t stare at the ocean every day before working on our dissertations, at the very least we can keep our information gathering contained.  I am personally terrible at this–I probably check my e-mail five or six times a day.  But I only answer e-mails every few days, which means I’ve got stuff in my brain rattling around needlessly.

If e-mail is a treat for you, check it at the end of your work day.  But if you’re like me and open your inbox when you’re bored, it’s probably time to give it a rest.  Boredom could be your ticket to a new insight on your work.

Experience

I’m on track to finish the research phase of Chapter 2 in four weeks (compared to Chapter 1’s six weeks). I attribute my increased efficiency to the elimination of unnecessary research methods.

  • First time: I wrote out and then typed all my notes. Now: I cut and paste. I think I was overly concerned with my ability to remember everything I read last time. I’m more confident now.
  • First time: I transferred the complete chapter into the dissertation template used to format theses at my school. Now: I’m writing Chapter 2’s rough draft is in the correct format.
  • First time: A bit enamored with the volume of my research, I numbered each source chronologically. Now: I don’t waste time finding, assigning, and editing my “item numbers.”
  • First time: I entered bibliographic information into EndNote before I started looking at a source. Now: I wait until I’ve read it and only enter sources into EndNote that I believe I will cite in the chapter.

In general, I was a bit fussy and over-serious the first time around. I got off my high horse for Chapter 2, and my work is the better for it.

It’s a Human Thing

Ever wonder why you don’t have self-control?

“Stuff White People Like” rags on grad school

This is hilarious.  You may as well laugh as cry, right?

Teaching: It Works!

I had a student in a literature class who–even though she ended up with a good grade in the class–I felt did not “get it” in some important way.  Her papers tended to try to argue something an uncontroversial point, and I worried that she wasn’t developing skills for subtle critique.

This student is taking another class of mine this semester–a course designed by another person.  My former student, who I did not have high expectations for, just aced a big assignment.  A big part of her success was due to her knowledge of poetic forms and techniques–something she learned in my class.

I rarely teach the same students twice, and it’s wonderful at this moment to see that my student learned and improved in my class.  And she retained something!