Southern Virginia University

With any luck I'll be in Buena Vista, Virginia teaching this fall semester. Here's why:

Following a very specific prompting I received in Sunday School about a month ago, I sent a letter of inquiry to SVU asking about openings in their English department. They had no job offerings listed on their website, so I knew this was a long shot. Nevertheless, I followed that impression.

About two weeks later, an associate professor down there wrote back asking to meet and wondering when I might make it down to Virginia. It's a three-and-a-half-hour drive, but my parents live not too far from there.

So we made a vacation out of it. I scheduled an interview for the Friday before Memorial Day, reserved a campsite for that same night, and called my parents to say we wanted to visit.

Donning my best bright-orange tie (Heather recommends wearing orange to a job interview since it helps you stand out), we made good time with miraculously no traffic. The interview went really well. And I began to be excited about the university. Small class sizes. Small town feel. Breathtaking location. Beautiful old buildings. Dedicated LDS students. Great faculty who don't put on airs like some other schools.

We then went to Peaks of Otter. Having come straight from an interview, I set up the tent and bought firewood in my Sunday best. It rained most of the night but we still got a fire going and ate some tin foil burritos. Though we got a little wet, it was all worth it when the next morning we went on the most beautiful trail I've ever seen. The mist enhanced the beauty. I've been on hikes with more majestic views, but nothing like this:


We spent the rest of the weekend with my family, playing games and spending time at the lake.

When all was said and done, we drove home and waited. I started to wonder after I didn't hear from my contact for a week and a half. But last night he sent me an e-mail saying I had three courses if I still wanted them. We're still trying to make sure it would work. Heather needs to keep her job in some fashion. But provided that pans out, we may bid a fond farewell to D.C. and start a new chapter in our life.

Younger All the Time

This article on the reason why Mormons delay marriage was interesting and certainly hits a nerve with a whole lot of people. The vitriol it generated is prolific. But I think it misses the mark yet again. The whole American population is changing, not just Mormons. And it's more about economy than it is about society.

Once American companies learned that Filipinos, Cambodians, and others will do the work for a pittance versus what they have to pay Americans at least minimum wage to do, jobs were exported. So, the 65% of the population working in factories had to find work in services or management. As soon as factories closed, people needed to reinvent themselves and went to college. College enrollment is higher than ever before. Then things became competitive because all the erstwhile manufacturers went into services and management, or at least their kids did. Today even lawyers compete for work, when they used to be guaranteed a good job after law school. It's because now we have 15% of the population in factories and the rest in all those jobs that require higher education. So, young adults have to strive for even higher education before we can bring in any real income at all. Even those who intensly dislike school consider a master's degree to get an edge on the competition.

So, combine that national trend with Mormonism. In a religion that teaches self-reliance, it's no wonder men and women are trying to gain a financial foothold before committing to an eternal relationship where they need to provide more than money, but also time, talents, and everything. While women are taught to get a degree in a world where divorce is a real possibility, men are still taught that they are to win the bread even when the rest of the world has a two-year head start on them.

But, when it comes down to it, that isn't really the issue either. It's that the American economy has real effects on American culture. It is delaying maturity. Thirty is the new twenty. Because they don't have economic resources, young adults are living with their parents well into their twenties. For some, it's mostly summers and vacations, anytime colleges close. Or, more commonly, Mormon young adults use their parents as an economic crutch when times are bad. Many move home or accept money from parents just until they can find real work. (I have.) This postpones maturity. Twenty-one-year-olds don't feel like adults. Society and economic reality have taught them they aren't. It used to be people were adults and on their own as soon as they graduated high school. Now people don't even decide what they want to do with their lives until the third or fourth year of college, if then. And then it'll take at least a few more years before they're earning enough income to pay rent and food for two mouths. I don't think a person is totally psychologically matured until he or she has direction, focus, and reinforcement, despite any urging to grow up. Sometimes, that's only from a real job where a person feels he or she contributes.

A Whole Nother

Here's my latest English nerd video:



So, he makes some good points, but I really don't like grammar nazis. English is a living language, so let's not treat it like it's static. Language is about choices. Let's teach the choices and let people speak as bad or as poorly as they want. Sometimes it's fun to deliberately mangle a sentence. (And he's wrong if he thinks we can't say, "I feel bad.")

Penn State

I applied to a few Comparative Literature Ph.D programs (in order of preference: Penn State, Chapel Hill, and UPenn) last fall and spent my time daydreaming about the acceptance letters pouring in. UPenn sent a rejection notice early on, but that didn't phase me much. After all, I'm not a huge fan of Philly.

But I learned yesterday that I, unfortunately, was not accepted to Penn State either. It's not as sad as I thought it would be; on the plus side, chances are I will live in the DC2 ward and teach community college for another year. And I do love my fellow ward members and students.

I, currently waitlisted, am still waiting to hear from Chapel Hill. I'll probably visit them if they accept me to see how I feel about the town, campus, and department. (Road trip!) But right now I'm leaning toward waiting a year and trying for Penn State again. They have the best Comp Lit program for me.

Who knows what the future holds? I still might find myself at Penn State someday.

Nephew and Interview

I'm going to against the grain and not blogging about the Snowpocalypse. I may do a recap once all the hype has died down.

Instead, first of all, I need to congratulate my brother Isaac and his wife Katie on the birth of their new son, Hudson. I have two nieces and two nephews now and another one is expected in a couple of months. Hudson was born a whopping 9 lbs. and, as legend has it, already able to hold up his own head. He was born 11 days overdue and he must have spent that extra time doing crunches. Hudson looks just like his dad to me--dark hair, Isaac's nose. I hope to see him really soon. Anyone want to buy my train ticket?!
Second, turns out I am a finalist in the application process for the Ph.D program at Penn State. Professor Beebee of their Comparative Literature department called me early last week to schedule a phone interview for the following day. He had tried to reach me by e-mail but the power had been knocked out. I was fairly excited and nervous in the intervening 24 hours, especially since PSU has the best program of the three to which I applied. The interview actually seemed fairly informal and conversational. Part of it was in Portguese, at which I felt rusty but still fairly fluent. I think it went well overall and I'm excited to hear back from them. But It will be sad to go; I feel rather attached to D.C. now, but I know that this is the right direction for my career.

Post-Summer Update

Yes, as of next week summer is over. Sure we'll have a few warm weeks ahead, but school is in. And get ready, because I'm moving back to D.C. on Monday!

I'm been working furiously on my class syllabi the last couple of weeks. I'm teaching two sections of a course called "College Composition II" at Northern Virginia Community College and one section of a course called "Techniques of Reading and Writing" at Montgomery College. I won't say which, but I am much more excited about one class than the other. The less exciting class has lots of hoops the school is making the students and instructors jump through, making it difficult to find ways to keep the students from disliking English. But, I'll do my best to be creative.

I'll be living with Carl Cranney and Steve Ward, just a hop, skip and a jump (or a street, a bridge and a parking lot) from Parkside. That's very exciting, mostly because normally when I move into a new apartment it's usually always with strangers (LDS strangers, but still strangers). It usually leads to good friendships, but how comforting it is that I already know my roommates. Oh, and if you're reading this, feel free to drop by my new digs (during reasonable hours).

Lastly, my sister Angela came over last night for an end-of-summer party. We played video games, watched a movie, had dinner, and painted. Here are some pictures and my latest painting:

Angela at work
Angela's half-finished painting
my painting, supplies, and work area
my half-finished painting

I am a Master of the Arts!

I just finished my last final today!

I am now on my way home to spend Mother's Day weekend with the family and for a much-needed vacation. See you next week, D.C.!

Ode to the Thesis

A significant portion of the last year of my life has been poured into the research for, and the writing of a 72-page thesis entitled, "When Brazilians Brave Britain." Now it's all over. Yesterday, yes, only yesterday, I added a few final touches (and by a few I mean I pulled ideas out of nowhere for an additional five pages) and submitted it to the Graduate School.

Now I'm awash with different emotions. I, of course, feel relief, something so unlike stress I don't even know what to do with it. But I also feel a bit sad, how an empty-nester might feel watching his own "flesh-and-blood" go off into the big world where he has absolutely no more control over it. What's written there is permanent, set in stone--flaws, gaps in logic, ever-so-brief moments of brilliance, etc. Sadly, it'll probably sit in the basement of the library here at Georgetown and never again see the light of day...but I think (gasp!) I actually might miss the work. When I printed it out yesterday and the actual weight of it was in my hands for a moment I was downright giddy. I do not miss the deadlines, but the work for the actual thesis was rewarding, stimulating, eye-opening.

So, here is a digital toast to my thesis. May the ol' girl rest in peace!

Edit: If the thesis could have been illustrated, this picture would have been perfect!

My New Era Moment

I have had precious few "Mormon moments" in literature classes. While my professors sometimes assign risque literature, I always seem to get through the book by skimming and skipping scenes or pages. After all, it's my mind, right? I should be able to decide what becomes a part of my long-term memory.

As an undergrad, I even used said method to get through Lady Chatterley's Lover. What a quick read! All I know is that there was this game warden who was friends with this woman married to a paralyzed man and some interesting contasts between pastoral countryside and industrialized coal mines.

Anyway, one of my professors assigned The Black Album by Hanif Kureishi last week and after skipping the third sex scene I decided that it just wasn't worth it. To all within the sound of my digital voice, if you want to protect your innocence you shouldn't read this book. But because of my sense of duty (no doubt garnered in middle school), I decided to go to class anyway even though I'd only read about a third of the assigned reading.

Here's what happened immediately after class began:

Prof: Alright, so how many of you loved this book?
(90% of the class raise their hands)
Prof: Okay, how many hated this book?
(I alone raise my hand)

First of all, I was surprised. I didn't think the book (what little I'd read of it) was written very well. The protagonist was as weak-willed and static as Harry Potter (and you all know it!). Nevertheless, all eyes suddenly turned on me and my mind flashbacked to New Era articles I'd read about setting a good example and speaking out about your beliefs. Sure enough, here's what happened:

Prof: Adam, why didn't you like the book?
Me: Well, as the cover says (pointing to the cover because I couldn't really reference anything in the book), it's about "drugs, sex, and rock-n-roll." I like rock-n-roll, but the other two.... (I trailed off before I started explaining that I'd only had experienced rock-n-roll anyway.)
Prof: So, it offended your sensibilities?
Me: Um, yeah.

That was it. My sensibilities had been offended. Not exactly a New Era story but I felt like in the battlefield of life a moral victory had somehow been won...maybe.

But then guess what happened! A classmate sitting across from me also began expressing how it had offended her sensibilities too. Later on the bus ride home I sat next to her and she asked if I were religious. I told her I belong to the Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-day Saints. We then started talking about skiing in the Rocky Mountains. I don't know what will come of this--probably nothing--but it was nice, I must say, to have this little moment.

My Oral Exam

Last Wednesday I underwent a rite of passage called orals, which is mandatory in order to graduate from the English M.A. program at Georgetown (though the thesis itself is not actually required). My chosen topic was Late 19th-century Anglo-Brazilian Relations in Literature. That's a long title but I'll try to condense the main idea.

Britain decided that after Brazil became independent in 1822 it needed the equivalent of a mother country to replace Portugal. For about 75 years, Brazil was part of what certain members of English Parliament were calling "Greater Britain." Basically, Britain reserved the right to tell Brazil how to run its government and how to conduct itself as a people. Despite religious, linguistic, and cultural differences (not to mention something called the Atlantic Ocean), Britain became Brazil's "best friend" which Brazil paid for in favors and treaties. Britain dominated Brazil economically but also attempted to impose their moral ideologies by enforcing an abolition of the slave trade. Brazil began to resent long years of unequal international relations while Britain struggled to understand why Brazil was not more cooperative.

In their literature, Brazilian writers often cast Europeans as their villains, usually French or English, but almost never Portuguese. (Americans have often cast their own "mother country" as the villains, a la English accents in Star Wars.) In Brazilian literature, Englishmen are drinkers, subtly aggressive, more interested in trade and inventions than women or friends, and deeply irreligious. English writers describe Brazil as a beautiful and rich landscape almost bereft of people. When English literature depicts Brazilians they are lazy, superstitious, unintelligent, and ignorant or poor, black slaves. One English traveler said that Brazil is a large untended garden overgrown with weeds in need of a more nurturing and careful caretaker.

It makes me wonder how history will represent the dominant powers of our modern world. Are large, powerful nations justified in imposing their ideology? Should they do it all over the world wherever a nation or organization hurts innocents or only against nations that are perceived as a threat to their own people? It makes me wonder why the United States attacks some nations, then leaves others alone that perform the same crimes against humanity or that pose a similar threat. What is the reason and rationale for our biases? What is the rubric for our "most wanted list"?

For my orals I presented my findings for 20 minutes; then my two advisors (Prof. Schwarz from the English department and Prof. Vieira from the Portuguese department) asked questions and bounced ideas off me. I think my presentation was dribble for the first 5 minutes but after the butterflies settled down it went more smoothly. I must say I am really glad that Prof. Vieira was there. Instead of asking questions, she contributed to the arguments I was making and made them that much stronger. After an hour and a half of this they sent me out in the hall so they could deliberate about whether or not I passed....

It's a strange and scary five minutes sitting in the hall waiting to see if what you've been studying for the past 6 months means anything, if it makes any sense. I ran into a friend a month or two ago who looked positively ill while he waited and didn't even notice me until I said hi. Thankfully, when the door opened Profs. Schwarz and Vieira were smiling and immediately congratulated me on passing. I can't tell you how nice it is to have orals out of the way.

My Final Semester

I start classes tomorrow!

They are Literature of Atlantic Empires and Black British Writers. I've become so used to school that it feels like I never left... and maybe because I've been reading 150 pages every day all winter long anyway.

I'm seriously considering applying to teach at Montgomery Community College in the summer or fall. I just need to polish my resume and apply on-line. If I get a full-time position I may be making more money than I have ever made before, nay, double the amount I have ever made before. I may even make more than Claire is making!