Monthly Archives: February 2022

I’m going to be honest here, thinking about where life leads to next after obtaining the doctoral degree scares me. Actually, it is terrifying to try to grasp and wrap my head around it. It’s only my second year, so I try not to give it too much thought, but when readings like the one we were assigned for this week’s class are what my brain’s being exposed to, then it’s obviously inevitable to completely brush off.

While my time for venturing the application process for academic job positions hasn’t come yet, I have had my share of semesters applying for paid research assistantships, doctoral fellowships based on research and other academic progress and standing, internships, and the like. I’ve experienced many emotions throughout these processes and have received any answers imaginable: “Congrats! You’ve been accepted”; “I regret to inform you that your application has been denied”; “You’ve been waitlisted”, etc. Rejections, acceptances, ambiguities that later on get cleared; it’s all a process that is taxing at best. A process that I wish were over right after that email is received but ends up on an endless cycle due to the common advice, and dare I say rule, you always have to try again. And again.

            Reading about applying to postdoctoral fellowships in Keisha N. Blain’s article brought back memories of applying to the Ford Predoctoral Fellowship last year. The process she described was reminiscent of that time period of drafting, editing, scrapping, starting over, finishing application materials about 1) my journey to/in grad school, 2) my previous and current research/academic endeavors, and 3) what I would like my overarching doctoral project to be. Let me tell you it was HARD. For a student in her first year, constantly second guessing and changing the possible trajectory of her dissertation, this was a task that helped me narrow the big picture, but also that brought with it overwhelming anxiety as I worked with my statements. 

            From Blain’s article, what stuck out the most was her advice on strategically choosing one’s letter writers when applying for fellowships (and advice that I guess extends to various other applications/positions). It is so important to make sure that your recommenders know you and your work well enough so that they can craft authentic and compelling letters to the admission committees. These are the people who are amplifying your statements, goals, and advocate for your skills, work ethic, and commitment/responsibility and their letters should restate that in a way that can really grasp the committees reading your applications.

            In Hannah Alpert-Adams’ article, she doesn’t sugarcoat the fact that, as of 2021, the “job market in the humanities is as worst as ever”. I’m calling it a fact, because with how the pandemic has changed life as we once knew it, academic jobs, and other positions as well, have seen negative effects. Budget cuts, closing of positions/spaces, shrinking of teams, letting go of people, etc. Yet, this doesn’t stop her from sharing some insights into applying to the academic job market. Eventually some openings will take place. I think that her advice on building a support network, taking to people who have been, or are, in your shoes, and also think about your own goals and dreams as you prepare for the application is important. Maybe is because I barely seek information on this, but it’s the first time that I see “think about your dreams” as an element in that list of preparations. The dreams include where you see yourself (department, institution, job, etc.) so naturally it’s something we should always keep in mind, but I also think about the importance of dreams on a personal note and how those come into play with the professional/career-led aspirations. 

            Both articles and the materials that were shared in the Humanities Commons site are such an essential part of the support everyone needs when applying for different positions and/or fellowships. We need to share our insights and, if possible, materials that have worked along the way. Sharing the knowledge helps others but also ourselves as we can realize what has to be revisited, tossed out, kept, revamped. While still very much overwhelmed and wanting to wash my brain out of all this information for the moment—some stress I really don’t need to be adding to my already chaotic state of mind as the semester progresses—I’m glad these resources exist and that I’m being made aware of early on, rather than later. 

            When I hear and/or read the word “manifesto”, the first thing that comes to mind is Karl Marx’s and Friedrich Engel’s The Communist Manifesto. To be honest, I’ve never read the whole thing, I tried once and couldn’t get pass the first few pages. Not because I wasn’t interested in their philosophy, but because I felt that it was some kind of unwritten rule to read such a text and I wasn’t interested in following through. 

            There’s something about concise writing that I truly appreciate—it’s short, precise/straight to the point, and I find it to be accessible for an array of audiences. It’s a way of writing that is not the easiest to master, but those who do possess a precious and valuable skill. That’s why I think I appreciated reading some of the manifesto pieces for today’s class. I mean, to say that I only value the conciseness and skill of the writing is an understatement, there’s definitely more than that, but I guess it’s a start.

            The piece that stuck out for me the most was Audre Lorde’s essay “Poetry Is Not a Luxury”. I first read this piece for my queer studies seminar last semester, and I remember it being so powerful as I read through its passages, even for it being only four pages long. I don’t think I ever considered it to be a manifesto of sorts, just an essay in which Lorde advocated for women, especially BIPOC women, to engage in the craft of writing poetry as well as to read it. According to Lorde, poetry is a 

Every time I read these lines, I’m compelled to think hard about what they mean both in the surface and on a much deeper level. Perhaps my interpretation may be off, but the way that I read this is that Lorde is encouraging us to truly embrace the beauty, rawness, and depth of poetry. Poetry becomes a way by which we are able to feel, express ourselves, allow each of us to release the inhibitions that have held us back at times. It is how we are able to materialize certain things that only live within our imagination and set them free or, at least, out of the confines of our mind and into the material space of a page.

            Moreover, Lorde goes on to state that poetry is “the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before” (38). Thus, poetry allows us to start putting together those things that tend to constitute a sort of meaning for us and our lives. It connects us, our feelings, thoughts, and even our fears, with other parts of ourselves that we hadn’t bridged over to before. Poetry allows us to be free in a way that no other form of art, of expressing ourselves, could. 

            I think there is such power in these words and the advocacy/favor of experiencing poetry, not taking it for granted, and acknowledge that it is not, in fact, a luxury. It is work, sentiment, experience, liberation, and even empowerment. In this labor of embracing and fully experiencing poetry, to allow our deepest longings and thoughts to roam free, we are given “the strength and courage to see, to feel, to speak, and to dare” (Lorde 39). 

            I’m not sure what my aim was with this writing specifically. Initially I wanted to compare and contrast the manifestoes we read to one another, but instead I decided to focus my energy and time here on Lorde’s piece and unpacking what some of its parts mean to me. I deeply admire the essay/manifesto in ways I don’t think I’ve admired a piece of writing before. That is mainly because it advocates for something I’ve struggled to do. To write and immerse myself in poetry as a means to liberate myself and what I keep within me is enormously hard for me—I’m reserved in many ways and tend to bottle up. I understand the value of poetry and the freedom it may allow me if I dedicate the time to it, reading, writing, and fully experiencing it. I’m glad there’s a piece out there that brings this calling to the fore and has inspired many women, especially BIPOCs, to sink their feet in it. While I may still be hesitant to try, I still see, acknowledge, and value its importance and the care it demands and gives back.