Academia nervosa

I have to admit I am nervous. In fact, I've never been this nervous about anything in my entire life. I'm speaking of the world that awaits me at the other side of the graduation stage. Here I am, January 2005, enveloped in a warm and cozy atmosphere composed of various blankets of protection. The first blanket is the undergraduate evaluation system, or grades. For the past three and a half years, I have read hundreds of thousands of words on such topics as the sociology of transgender individuals or the validity of various mathematical proofs. I did this because I had to satisfy the grading system that dictated my future. If I studied hard and mastered the concepts, I would get an A. At the other end of the spectrum, if I failed to fully understand what was presented to me, I received a mediocre grade. This blanket absolved me of any independent intellectual endeavor. I memorize facts and figures and the academic establishment confers on me an abstract symbol of achievement. Another protective blanket I've had for the past three and a half years is the undergraduate professor. He or she has lectured, taught, and instructed on a still wider array of topics. All I had to do was sit, listen, take notes, or otherwise try to understand what he or she was wanted me to understand. This is directly related to the grading system that is described above. In retrospect, it all seems highly mechanical and impersonal.

So why am I nervous? In several months, I will more than likely be at another institution to get a master's degree. This is a big step on the road to academic freedom, a quest that I have only recently realized I have been on since I was able to turn the pages of a book. Right now, I am not academically free. Sure, I have the option to do research independent of the grading system, and indeed I do whenever I read an anthropology book for pleasure. But no matter what angle I look at it from, I am still bound by the chains of traditional academia. Assuming I end up at one of my graduate schools in the fall, I will have broken those chains and entered a completely new realm. I will be asked, for the first time, to truly think on my own and come up with my own, unique ideas. Are you beginning to understand why I'm so nervous all of a sudden?

Some may argue that I am selling myself short by speaking of my undergraduate career as restricted or somehow bound by chains. Isn't college all about freedom? The answer is no. While the door is there, I have only now been motivated to walk through it. Unfortunately, the majority of undergraduates in this country go to college because their parents "force" them to or because they want a business degree to achieve wealth, not for intellectual freedom. Many professors have fallen in to this monotony of teaching. That is why when a professor stands out as truly exceptional, I take note. I can count on one hand the number of professors that have affected my life in such a way that I consider my character products of their desires. My quest for knowledge of the origin of humanity can be attributed to one professor. Likewise, my admiration and fascination with indigenous Central and South American indigenous cultures can be attributed to two professors. My interest in historical archaeology is the result of one of those professors' research interest. Most likely, my graduate studies will involve the latter subject, and thus my entire life's work and interest.

Although I feel academically restricted, I am not so intellectually. If anything, I am more fired up than ever. I feel like I should be wearing a label that reads "contents under pressure." I have read and read and read about topics that interest me. I finally had a release when I took an archaeology field school this past summer in Belize. It was a release that was far too short. Like a good masturbation session that leaves you aching for the real thing. I've been looking at porno my whole life and I'm ready to bang the supermodel.

So, these chains are about to be broken, and that is why I am so nervous. I have never been faced with direct criticism or rejection of my personal beliefs about anthropology, but only because I have yet to develop my own. Will I be able to? Sure. And I am confident that I can handle criticism. Criticism is what drives science, and it is this concept that comforts me. Where would we be if no one challenged the notion that the earth is flat? Even the academic giants of my generation, like Jared Diamond, will one day have some of his notions proven wrong.

Basically what I am saying here, is that it's a daunting task to be handed: "Do your own research and come up with your own ideas. It has to be original and this means you have nothing to go on. You can cite other research, but remember that this is your own work with your name and reputation attached to it. It can ruin you or make you. Don't fuck it up."