Anyone Want to Watch "Arguing the World?"

For once my couch isn’t covered with laundry and this evening I am sitting on it, enjoying the feeling of a room warmed by the day’s sun, reading the third installment of the “Shopaholic” book series and trying to break out of a melancholy mood. I skipped the gym because I am trying to actually listen to my cold-infested body, and thus I am missing the endorphins I rely quite heavily upon – however, this is not the cause of my unrest. Nor, for once, is it boy drama – shocking, I know.

Again the cause of my funny mood is academia – the looming yearlong process of reapplying to PhD programs and the dual notions of uncertainty and possibility that this entails. Despite the daunting five-year commitment and my desire to affect change beyond the confines of the academe, my specific research interests and methods draw me back to the possibility of entering a PhD program, and place my fate yet again in the hands of admissions committees.

I am certain this second time around I will be accepted into history programs. So much has changed in the past year – I am published, I have presented, my commitment has been tested by both time and the lure of the paycheck – but most importantly, my area of interest has been refined and my confidence in talking about this interest has grown immensely. Over the past few weeks, I have started to understand the commonalities intertwining my past papers and potential research interests. This process of realization has overwhelmed me, but in a positive way. The melancholy feelings come from yet again feeling so close to something yet still not there – being so excited by the prospect of something so uncertain. I know what I want, I know where to get it, but it is not mine yet and I don’t know if I will be able to effectively articulate my interests and merit to the gatekeepers. In hopes of learning how to best express my interests in a personal statement, I apologize ahead of time if this blog becomes a brainstorming center for my ideas about ideas – ha!

Which brings me to the biggest reason of them all for re-entering graduate school: in a history PhD program, I wouldn’t have to apologize for my interests. And I know I don’t actually have to apologize to my friends and family when I go off on a long-winded tangent about pragmatism, or force one of you to watch Arguing the World (a great documentary about the NY Intellectuals), but I see that glazed over look – it is the same one I get when Nicki and Justin debate the intricacies of classical music – my ability to participate in that conversation ends when the jokes move beyond the mispronunciations of Wagner and Shostakovich.

Many of my friends tolerate my pragmatic ramblings, but that is most likely because they have love for me rather than for my research. This cannot be represented better than by my sister’s attendance at the history conference last month – she listened to me practice my talk twice, understood little of the arcane babble I discussed, yet sat through eight hours of a conference because she is really supportive (not because she thought it was interesting). But it was nice to have her there, for her to see a window into a separate world of mine – that even I am just beginning to truly see myself in.

I know a lot of people have interests and experiences in their lives they wish they could share with more people, and for me, intellectual history is just that. Often it will be our desire to meet like-minded people that propels us to make decisions regarding our life’s work, whether it be a trek across country to medical school, DC, or the start of a divinity program. I spend so much time reading books and articles, researching and writing about this topic – yet I don’t share this interest with anyone I know. I think that people who end up fulfilled in life are those who share their passions. This is not meant to belittle the many wonderful experiences and interests I share with the people already in my life, but I know a part of me currently lies unfulfilled. This is as concrete of a reason I can give for putting myself through this agonizing application process yet again. God help me!