Last week, I had a unique opportunity to sit in and listen to a group of professors from various institutions discuss their different takes on pre-modern drama.
I can only describe this as the most voyeuristic wish-fulfillment a young and aspiring academic can have; It was simultaneously empowering and frightening to watch as men and women of various academic interests were knocked down from their lofty thrones at the front of the classroom to the realm of us mortals: a conference room with an assortment of finger foods, coffee, and tea. I was frightened at how insightful and thoughtful these long-standing professors could be, and it was far beyond any reality that I could ever capture.
As I write this, my Amazon shopping cart is filled with every book I could scribble into the margins of my notebook that one of these professors cited because the only way I find that I can achieve what they’ve achieved is to follow in their shadows.
So I want to go ahead and call this blog-post, 5 Reasons I Will Never Become a Professor
1) The reading is too daunting. How can anyone read so much? From the most well-known plays and literary creations in the world, to the most obscure and unheard of pieces of scholarly thought. Everything is a morsel of intellectual knowledge that these insatiable and voracious Professors feast on with mind, body, and soul.
2) I’m so disorganized. Despite the planners and the folders, my day-to-day existence is still mired by chaos (Frequently, I find that I can’t find that one paper that I need to fill out.). One time, in 4th Grade, I remember finding my forgotten homework crumpled up inside of my pencil case. I quickly scribbled my answers in on the bus ride to school and was disappointed to get back a paper with a gold star on it. I didn’t deserve an A for Awesome or an A-mazing Job. I wanted my paper to be crumpled up and thrown back at me.
3) I don’t look the part. I feel as though professors have a certain look. Something about them that comes off as a braggart, the epitome of pomposity and arrogance that is also both deeply enchanting and impressive. It comes with the ability to dress well, I feel. Well-trimmed suits, neat brown or black shoes. Nobody seems to wear sneakers. It all seems to be a performance. I don’t like to act. Nor do I like wearing a suit jacket with matching slacks.
4) I like stupid things. When I mention that I’ve done research on scanlation or manga, I get ‘oh how interesting,’ or the ever-popular ‘oh how interesting.’ I can’t sell it well over text but just imagine that one is said in a very positive, uplifting tone of voice that feels forced or a tone of voice that feels like also makes you wear a cap with DUNCE written across it.
5) I don’t have the time. What about my part-time job? What about my family? What about my friends? What about myself? But I need to read this novel for my class. Okay, I finished the novel. But the paper is due tomorrow and I don’t really feel like I understood the novel. FUCK. The paper is due tomorrow and I’ve nothing to show for it. Why did I even read the novel? Why did I take this class? What time is it? It’s 11 o’clock and I have to be up at 6:30. I have to be up at 6:30 because I’ve convinced myself that by pretending to have order in my chaotic life that I can take control of everything and anything. But now it’s 11:45 and I still haven’t written this paper. I’ll write it this weekend and hand it in late. But I work on the weekend. And what about my family?
This post was depressing, but I want to end with a positive note. Just because I feel this way, just because a lot of people probably feel this way, it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop pursuing my current path. And I don’t think anyone else should either. No journey is without its trials and there’s no need to try and mimic the stories already told. You only need to be the hero of your own tale.
~Christopher LaSasso
The Junction Journal 