PTSD

(My) Great Transformations

I realised that my last few posts have been a bit short on angst and since that is what I’m supposed to contribute to this space, here I go. Let me start by writing that I am trying to recover from the knowledge that the Bigwigs at my department at TUWSNBN appear not to know me. First, my sister was mistaken for me and then I was asked when I was planning on finishing my classwork. (FYI, my sister is heaps taller and a lot younger; and I finished my classes even before I headed off to OOD). But, it’s my fault: I am not good at networking or making friends and influencing people. This means tomorrow’s lunch with the incoming PhD students should be the first place I go to hang out and make friends and discuss my work, right? Well, it would be if I could form a coherent sentence (well, more than one actually) about what my work is about. I had gotten quite good at it in OOD but the months of coming back here, being homeless, and spending most of the week filling envelops and trying to grasp LS concepts have all led to a few of the little grey cells dying off due to lack of use. I get the feeling that even the alive ones have gone into hibernation and are refusing to wake up. Hence, the lack of clarity about what I do and how I do it and why I’m doing it.

In any case, this semester has been filled with LS work. Reaching the end of my fellowship at TUWSNBN means that one has to join the workforce. Being an “alien” (but not the sort that seem to populate TV shows these days. At least they get good jobs) means I can’t work outside of Uni. This means I am pretty much restricted in my choices (try choosing between working for the library and working for the LS and try making a living off the measly pittance you get for 20 hours of work within Uni). Being at the LS is an interesting experience: most of the time, I am so busy filling envelops (they do require loads of concentration making sure the names and the letters match) and entering data into the Uni data system and answering whether Course X is really needed to graduate that I forget I’m actually a postgraduate student who is supposed to be doing research. I recall the times when I used to get bored with reading Uni stuff and got excited to read other, non uni things. Now, I get excited when I catch a whiff of Super N or even just a token word or phrase about Big F.

I watched Trainspotting again over the weekend. I remember when it first came out (and I thought it was about spotting trains but turned out it wasn’t). It's one of those movies you remember from high school (except people seem to remember different films, depending on their geographical locations. So, let me qualify by saying/writing that "it's one of those films you remember from high school if you went to a state high school in Kathmandu, Nepal and happened to live near the British Council which lent out films at cheaper rates than at local video stores". Or, if you grew up in Southeast Asia/Australia, where the youth seemed to have shared my film viewing habits). Remember when Renton yearns for his drug of choice? I am starting to feel like that about OOD. Yes, I didn’t like it much when I was there (it was cold cold cold and there was no proper English-language bookstore and the cinema was bloody expensive at about 25$ per movie) but at least we discussed our research, we argued about why Foucault should be read in this way rather than that and I learned a lot about semiotics and Gadamer and Kierkegaard which I hadn’t here. In the months there, I used to visit my supervisor weekly, discuss my research or any other topic that came to mind (we once had an hour-long discussion on nationalism and football and how different countries in Europe’s versions of nationalism can be interpreted looking at the behaviour of football fans). And, I miss that. Actually, the Renton analogy is useful here because I really miss that. I crave it.

I also miss the availability of such conversation: I'm not saying that I can't discuss my research at TUWSNBN but, often, I need an appointment, I need to set up a time to see my colleagues, I need to tell them why and when I'm going to be around. It's made formal. And, that makes me nervous. So, I don't bother. And, I'm invisible. Do yous see the problem here? It's not as if the whole department at TUWSNBD is keen on discussing these things, which was the case at OOD uni. Also, being part of a group of PhD fellows who shared the same office meant you (I) had a ready-made audience ready to tell me off for being unclear or to push me into making my points clearer and more easily understood. It also meant I was royally disliked by quite a few people for my methodological stance but yous know all about that. And, looking back, at least it was a reaction. Not like here at TUWSNBN where I'm invisible, it seems.

That is why my second job of TA-ing for StructureMan is what keeps me going right now. I sit in on the class and it’s not even a subject I’m keen on (reminds me too much of who I used to be, I guess, since I did this stuff for a living for a few years) and I love it. Being a TA though creates boundaries between the students and me. I sit at the back of the class, don’t participate in discussions (though I really want to these days. As E would tell yous, this is definitely not like the former me who once remained silent throughout an entire semester of a course of Comparative Politics. In my defence, I'd like to say that I didn't have much to say and there were a few people in the class who said heaps anyway) but get called on to explain things every once in a while. The students congregate on the quad during break and I'm not part of the congregation. Actually, I've noticed that it's the European students who seem keen to discuss things with me while the others give me a wide berth. Is this becuase the Europeans are more used to hanging out with their professors while Americans (well, at least at TUWSNBN) aren't? I don't know. It's just rather strange since I've never been in this weird not a student and not a teacher limbo before.

This week, we discussed Karl Polanyi’s The Great Transformation and I realised that I actually find much in it that is useful in looking at how the international system is described. I sat there, at the back, out of sight of most of the students and I wanted to start over my PhD. Now. This year. Even though I’m removed from the students in the class and even though I suspect most of them are not too keen on theory, I like the interactions generated as they wrestle with questions of agency and power in Marx, Smith, et al. No one dominates the class, no one gets to sit silently but most students have participated and have had things to say in the three weeks I’ve been there. Each time, I learn a bit more about the readings and gain insights into aspects that I'd not thought about. I know now why professors can go on teaching the same class for years. Because it is not the same class. The name might be the same, the readings might not change but the classes are different. And fun.

I guess I used to wonder if I had a vocation for this thing: I am still not sure I have a vocation for doing my subject (IR) but I do know I have a vocation for teaching. And, for now, I’m (relatively) content with that. It gets me through the days of stuffing envelops and answering yet another query about transcripts. I just wish that I could discuss my research, the people I’m reading for it and the various other projects I’m supposed to be working on with other people and get feedback and critique. At OOD uni, people didn't agree with me but many still listened. I guess I didn't appreciate that as much as I should have. Maybe the PhD lunch tomorrow will be where this starts? Though, I’ll admit from the success (or lack thereof) of the Happy Hour concept that I have my doubts.

posted by Priya @ 2:54 PM