Are You Married?

Today, I had a meeting with my guided study professor.

I’ve been reading a book on epistemology, and it talks about the roll of the Christian Scholar. I’ll develop the thoughts more in an upcoming blog–but one of the key points is that Christian scholarship should contribute to shalom, or ‘justice as shalom.’ [Shalom isn't possible without justice, but justice is not a sufficient condition for producing shalom.] I wasn’t exactly sure what to think of this suggestion. It challenged my current paradigm for academia, and is probably the most lasting thing I’ll take away from the book. I asked my advisor if this was what he though, and what his experience as an academic had been like. His reply began like this:

Him: “Are you married?”

Me: “No.”

Him: “Women tend to prevent men from getting too divorced from practical life in academics. It isn’t that these issues don’t matter, just that women tend to bring a much needed balance. You don’t see very many women mathematicians, or philosophers–it’s likely for this reason.”

[At this point he paused.]

Him: “Not everyone has to get married, though.”

A Reckoning

I have never been an exceptional student. For all the time I’ve spent in school and university, I’ve never been “brilliant.” Much of my “success” has been due to persistence and hard work. But, at the same time, much hasn’t.

It is a shame that I never took philosophy as seriously as I should have. It many senses it was easy for me. I get the methodology. I get that certain things follow. I’m creative, and approach things from a different perspective than most people, and thinking outside the box is crucial in philosophy. Math, however, was a different story. It was all hard work, and all persistence. Theology, which is what I have studied for the last year or so, is something I’m not interested in. Not at all. Which is unfortunate, because I do a lot better when I’m interested in something.

So, my academic record isn’t stellar. Which would not be an issue if I was going to be say, a mechanic, or a ditch digger, or an investment banker, or any one of any number of careers. But the problem is I have hoped for a very long time to be a professor. Not only have I hoped for it, but I really believe that I’d be good at it. I’d even go so far as to say that I think I’d be very good at it.

But, my academic record doesn’t seem to say that I would. Or at least, thats what people in the know tell me. Part of the problem is that I’ve made bad choices. I choose courses based on what interests me, not what I’ll be good at. I take courses for credit when I should just audit them. I don’t buddy up to professors. Generally, it seems that academia can be seen as a sort of game. A game that I’m pretty bad at playing, and a game who’s rules I think are pretty stupid.

I mean, I love learning. Don’t get me wrong here. If I was given infinite resources, I would probably spend a great deal of my time studying and reading in a university library. In part because I’m an introvert, but in part because I like to know stuff to think about stuff. Ideas are important; the more history I learn, the more I see how ideas have shaped it. It would be foolish to think the ideas of tomorrow aren’t being shaped by the attitudes and beliefs of today.

So why am I concerned? Well, because I’ve come to the realization that I’m in dire straights. My marks currently aren’t good enough to get into a PhD program, and are unlikely to improve drastically. I am older than most of the applicants I will be competing against, I’ve taken a long time to complete my degrees, and I’m unpublished. None of these things guarantees that I can’t or won’t be a professor. But they aren’t good indicators, and mean that something needs to happen.

That something is that I need to publish. I need to publish a bunch of papers that show I have value to the academic establishment, and that I can excuse my marks, and my extra years in school. I find conciliation in that I’ve always thought that I’m better at original thought than at coursework. But, now that things are down to the wire, I’m less sure. Enough less sure that I’m seriously thinking about about what my “plan B” career path should be.

At this point, I’ve got nothing.

D.R.T.