The Fine Line Between Culture and Trash

As much as I wish I could identify as this constantly erudite, high-culture/brow intellectual, and have that be the most infallible, indelible element of my nature… the truth is, it’s not. I’m some weird consortium of high and low brow pursuit, of theoretical abstraction and reality-driven pragmatism. I’m reminded of the Yiddish film, Der Dybbuk, about a spirit that occupies both the land of the living and the land of the dead; literally dybbuk meaning ‘between two worlds.’ My entire life, I’ve been between two worlds, and have never forced myself to commit to anything, really: the duality of who I am can be astonishingly powerful and beneficial (it has given me a fantastic strength, intellectually and critically), or catastrophically disruptive.

The past eight weeks have been really quite difficult for me, for a host of reasons, not the least of which has been the pigeonholing of my ‘nature’ as a student. Without doubt, they’ve been the most trying of my academic career, and I’m now seriously concerned about applying for, and receiving, a Fulbright Grant to conduct research. In terms of project ideas, I’m confident in the importance and utility of my proposal (which is, as yet, only outlined and still requires writing); my GPA has slipped considerably, though, and Fulbrights are very competitive.

My academic career, historically, has been one of moderate intensity, externally stimulated by my own interests, curiousities, and fascinations. Though I have very mixed feelings about my undergraduate experience (I attended, and graduated, from Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute, a top-tier (albeit lesser-known) engineering school in the Northeast), I cannot go so far as to express abject regret: the critical thinking skills I acquired as a science student have proven incredibly useful in my movement to graduate school. In one department, particularly, I’m something of an affirmative-action student: I was accepted likely more for the curious and eclectic background than for any particular specific merit.

Historical academic successes, though, has accompanied (sometimes deserved, sometimes not-) an accumulating hubris about my role and position in academia. Since my background is so wildly varied (and, admittedly, consistently inconsistent and unfocused), I’ve had the fortune of attempting some modicum of success in a number of different areas: military science, nuclear and physics engineering, physics, sociology, medical anthropology, public health, ethics, data management, &c have all occupied large quantities of time, emotion, and intellectual energy. I’m not proud of having a chip in my shoulder or disproportionate arrogance, but it is extant. And the strings of successful academic and intellectual ventures came to a screeching halt this summer.

I can attribute this summer’s folly to a number of elements, but ultimately they all boil down to what kind, what sort, of student I am. The class itself was small (the first four weeks, five; the second four weeks, four), and the instructor was a native speaker and prepared grammatically rigorous lectures and assignments. Each week saw a minimum of twenty hours of class time, typically with another five or six hours of additional activity (films, lectures, conversation hours, etc). In addition, each evening and weekend had somewhere between two and four hours of homework (simply to stay afloat; studying to actually learn material would  be another 2 hours nightly, ideally).

And the end, to make a long story short, is thus: I’m really not very focused. I love studying languages, but I also love – among other things – sleeping late, going to the gym, cooking elaborately inefficient meals, wrenching my moped, going out with friends, reading books for pleasure’s sake, drinking wine from the bottle, spending time with my significant other, looking at the ceiling, reflecting and meditating, talking with friends….ad infinitum. I’m simply not designed for, as a thinking person (and of course, many – probably the most ‘successful’  – of thinking persons are designed for-), to study one subject  intensely, and passionately. I need time to disengage from the rigors of daily life.

Insofar as this summer was a valuable learning experience, I’m glad that I made the decision to partake in such an intensive program. I certainly know plenty of Polish now, and it did keep me – in some sense – intellectually stimulated. However, were I to make the decision over again, I would never have chosen to enroll. I have a low grade now eating up a large amount of my transcript, I never received funding from my department (a whole other situation entirely, and very much the focus of ire and aggravation), and emotionally, psychologically, and scholastically exhausting. At some point, I needed a make-or-break academic situation, and I think this may have been it. I’m a very serious student, but my life is so muchmore than being a student that I can’t function in an environment where scholasticism becomes the only focus.

Suffice to say, I am thrilled to have my life back: I can go back to the gym, I can begin reading for pleasure (again!), I have plenty of time to socialize, to write, to reflect, meditate, think, imagine. And I can get on with being this odd, incongruous bundle of contraditions, aspirations, criticisms, praise, and everything else.

Simulacra of Normalcy

The past week (since Monday) has been something of an experiment in spirituality; I forsee its continuation for the next few weeks, at the very least. Since this is all painfully new to me (and drives very much at the core of my ego and pride, two things that have taken a considerable beating in the past months-), I’m hesitant to elaborate whatsoever. You’ll have to pardon how cryptic I’m being; it’s not for any particular reason other than the sheer personal nature of my curiosities, interests, and drives. Suffice to say, my paper journal has been getting rather a lot of attention, as have a number of books on my nightstand and by my futon.

Polish is proving to be very difficult indeed. Three hours of class, at minimum, each day (with an additiona eight hours each week of conversation and activities), followed by a couple of hours of homework and studying each night does not a happy Leah make: I thrive in an environment that is varied, and generally flexible to adhere to my own lifestyle and schedule. I’ve been eschewing any sort of commitment, then, to the language in lieu of my own academic and intellectual desires, as well as regular mindless activities: television, internet, playing with the moped and riding a fair amount. Though I love academia, and very much crave structure, I – like most all of the academically inclined – also need a remarkable amount of leisure time (read: personal study, writing, correspondance, etc-).

Coming up in the next month or so, I have a number of tasks with which to occupy myself.

First and foremost, my parents are visiting me in this glorious town, and – as it’s been a year since either of them have been here – I’ve already started to make preparations. I need to find activities (so far, I’m stuck with only a short list: the farmer’s market, the art museum (about an hour’s drive), a tour of the rare books library, walking around campus and around the town, a few places for meals). Also, as with most parents, they will gauge my well-being (which, compared to other points in my life, is veritably off-the-charts) based on my living arrangements and lifestyle, so a thorough cleaning and organizing of my apartment is necessary (disclaimer: things (books, papers, coffee cups) tend to accumulate remarkably quickly around here, and the carpet could use a vacuuming and spot treatment). I’m planning on cooking for them one evening or afternoon; I’ll probably make vegetarian sushi and miso soup or something similar. Other nights and afternoons, I have a wide array of restaurants and pubs to show them.

Second, I have the Fulbright Application Process (TM) coming up very soon: the final applications are due in September 2009, and I’m starting to slowwwlllyyy kludge together something worthy of submission. A kind professor here has agreed to go over my application and proposal with me. It looks as if I’ll be applying for consideration to research and possibly teach in Poland, likely Warsaw. While the odds aren’t great (they take about one in three applicants from my university), I think the strength of my dual-degree and background will greatly assist me. Yet another reason why I need to do well in Polish, also: those ten credits are going to appear on my transcript, and as I’m applying to Poland, they mustn’t be poor marks. I also know that, if I am accepted, then it will be a tremendously important notch on my academic belt towards entering a doctoral program. All in all, a lot is riding on this.

I’m not reading very much lately. The Seven Storey Mountain by Thomas Merton is occupying much of my leisure time, as are a couple of other religious (either directly or indirectly) works.

A Personal Note on Free Time

I feel reasonably qualified to wax poetic on the nature, cultivation, and rarity of ‘free time.’ When classes are in session, I have the great luxury of having a structured schedule that requires only 15-20 hours each week of physical presence: I attend class and hold a part-time job, both of which require attendance. Otherwise, the location in which I work, study, socialize, or relax is entirely at my discretion. And, as with any academic lifestyle, there are the breaks:

1. Thanksgiving (not worth noting; it has the horrific placement such that time is spent frantically finishing semester assignments, rather than getting R&R)
2. Winter Holiday (at my school, it lasts approximately three weeks: enough time to catch one’s breath. As a graduate student, this break was focused primarily on preparing and submitted fellowship, scholarship, and grant applications. Staying near the uni is also desirable, as there are unparalleled resources available.)
3. Spring Break (I year, desperately, for the days of when Spring Break was, really, a break. Graduate school has turned it (much like Winter) into a reprieve from strict scheduling, but mostly an opportunity to ‘catch-up,’ as it were.)
4. Summer Vacation (mine is unduly long: almost exactly four months in duration)

Each summer prior to this, I have been heavily scheduled: summertime becomes an opportunity to financially make-up for some ten-months of abject poverty (holding down two-three jobs is, historically, a norm). Occasionally summer courses are an added responsiblity; fellowships and internships are wonderful, but also preclude any bit of evasion from responsibility and duty.

This summer, though, is far less stringently scheduled: I’m enrolled in an intensive language course (to study Polish) from mid-June through mid-August. Until the beginning of this, though, I am reasonably without obligation: I work a very part-time job (12 hours/week), and otherwise have the rest of my time at my disposal. With this happy situation at hand, I’ve decided that there are a host of tasks, activities, goals, and ambitions to accomplish. Though my economic situation is far from ideal (I live painfully ‘hand-to-mouth,’ as it were)

Maintaining some semblance of a fixed schedule is a priority. Without it, I tend to lapse into near-abuse of the internet  (the most painful of time-sucks), and neglect any sort of growth. As such, I have compiled a small, though respectable, list of goals. They are as follows:

1. Work through lesson 12 of the Yiddish textbook (Commitment: 6 hours/week)
2. Re-work through lesson 9 of the Czech textbook (Commitment: 6 hours/week)
3. Read 10 works in philosophy/theology/sociology (Commitment: 8 hours/week)
4. Make 40 gym visits (Commitment: 12 hours/week)
5. Write 20 pages in my journal (Commitment: 2 hours/week)
6. Work (Commitment: 12 hours/week)

Total temporal obligation? 46. Out of 168.  I’m left with 124 hours; subtracting sleep (at the rate of a generous, and optimistic, 9 hours/night), I’m left with 61 hours of time on my own each week. Frightening. Where do the hours go? …I’m honestly not sure. Presumably, I’m on the internet (maybe 20 hours/week? Terrifying!). I socialize, though this is fairly light. I take naps (or ‘doze,’ with a book butterflied on my abdomen).

Much like money (if not attentively tracked), the spending of one’s time slips quickly out of control. Accounting roughly for what one does, and where one’s attentions are directed, is important for time management. As such, my goal is to track – as closely as possible – my time usage over the next week, and post the results on May 17. Additionally, I’ll do some sort of statistical analysis (I spend x% of time engaged in y, &c), and also attempt to keep my notes as detailed and specific as possible. I have a suspicion that I will not be pleased with the results.