Thursday, July 30, 2009

To my Professor

Dear Bob,

It can be said that my education was one of the most enjoyable and fulfilling journey through the college experience of anyone I know. And so many friends and family say it was because of me, but I tend to disagree. It was a combination of the subjects, my excitement for them, and those who shared my excitement. The first time I really talked to you at your office hours you were not your happy and pensieve self. Though at that time I did not know you, I presumed you just didn't like me. That, of course knowing me, did not disuage me from pursuing conversations with you, because as it were, your class piled on the reading like I'd never had before and I was overwhelmed. I don't know if it showed, but I really didn't think I could read it all. I learned early on to get to know the professor of the class. Week one was for studying the professor, their teaching style, and trying to recognize what they want me to get out of the class. You were quiet, thoughtful, and at unexpected times completely hilarious. That was a tough term for me. I experimented with the play you assigned for Spiritual Conquest class and you approved. So often I had not received that kind of response when it came to trying something new and creative. I knew then that maybe I should stick around this guy. It might be good for me.

Of course, knowing that I needed a mentor, but that I hadn't been advertising that fact, I was aware of my own needs and plans as a student. So in a way I was interviewing you for the job. You did a fine job indeed. I knew I was looking very determinedly to the future of being a professor, a scholar, and an all around history geek. I needed to find someone who shared a similar verve for all things history with an open mind to other subject that had by then picqued my interest. I needed training, and I was the Skywalker to your Obe One. I have a way of busting down the door into people's lives and at times am unapologetic. I live my life that way. I'm loud, extroverted, curious to a fault. In some ways you reminded me of Kristopher; you were optimistic, funny, and somewhat quiet. I had learned to speak to Kris, while realizing the trampling nature my personality can take on, and I think it helped prepare me for talking to you. At our high school we were assigned to write a legacy. What was our legacy, what did we want to be remembered as, and what did we want to leave behind. Of course, being me, I said with the spit fire of a proletariat party leader in front of my class that I was going to leave a mark on every life I encountered whether good or bad. At the time I was even more flaboyant, tempestuous, and outspoken (if you can believe that). Kris stood before the class and said he wished it all to be the same as if he had never existed. I was personally insulted and immediately took issue with him. He shortly learned about my temper, but in the long term, I know he will learn what I see you have learned. A non-outspoken person can make dramatic and powerful impacts on the lives they encounter as long as they stay true to their strengths. You and Kris share the strength of being two of the most genuine people I have ever met. I appreciate that about you above all.

Speaking at graduation was a point in my life, much like the Ethnohistory conference, where I believe my own path was shown to me. I received some kind of confirmation from the universe that, Yes I was headed in the right direction. Here was the supportive family that loves me that came to witness my goodbye to a chapter in my life. Here were classmates I recognized as more than just peers I argued with or for in class, as they truly were like me in their fear and excitement for some unknown future destination. Finally, here was my professor of two years, a remarkably short time I must say, who I had bonded with and formed a special connection with. It was a gift your friendship and mentorship.

I stayed my fifth year largely because of you and I don't know if I ever told you that. There was of course other things at play, such as Kris in a five year program, my November anxiety attack about applying to graduate programs, and a general lack of that sense of closure I thought I would feel approaching my graduation. I could have graduated the Spring of '08 quite easily, but you knew that. Although I can say without shame that I am an over achiever, I prefer to imagine that I knew my limits and I always strived to push myself to those limits. To challenge myself to grow as a student, as a scholar-in-training. I was testing myself to see if I had what it would take to be a scholar. Though never lacking in confidence, I did have doubts. I didn't know what I would study or where, so it made sense to slow down a bit. I needed to test the waters. I needed to train, and by the time I had resolved to stay before starting the Missions of California class, I decided I wanted you to help train me. Again, I have a way of busting down the door, and I don't know if I ever made it an option for you to decide if you wished to fulfill that role. It just felt right staying, while graduating didn't. I had yet to meet my threshold, my tipping point, my point of burn out and utter exhaustion; and for some idiotic reason I pursued that end and I am still paying for it in energy, though I never regret it. I couldn't have done a fifth year, as I did it with all the bells and whistles, without your support. Thank you for all the introductions to famous rock star historians at the conference. Thank you for wanting to be at my panel- it was enough to know you wanted to be there when you couldn't. Thank you for taking me under your wing (I'll miss that wing...). Thank you for reading my ridiculously long thesis as many times as you did; it pained me to send it off every time knowing me strength has yet to be succintion and conciseness. Both my parents are long-winded and I married a man of few words so I don't know how short I'll ever really make anything. I always work on it though.

I never knew I would write a thesis more comparable to a book in scope, but that is how I live my life. I can never be accused of not going big. But I also just let it happen, and everytime I lost sight of my thesis I would pick up a book and learn something knew. I had never had an experience before when I was reading pages and pages of all kinds of books and it didn't feel like an arduous task but some kind of adventure. I suppose that naivite may fade as my youth will, but I hope it doesn't. It was more than learning about Harrye and Helen, I learned humility, self-control, diligence, patience, and self-forgiveness through writing my thesis.

My mother always taught me to follow those opportunities that would be challenging and rewarding and worth far more to my life experience than I could ever imagine. To be open to those opportunities. Your steady encouragement was essential to not only my undergraduate degree experience, but also to my future academic career. I never felt judged for just being me. Thank you for that. That is not always the case. I knew I could blossom under your belief in me. I needed independence, a lot of it, but reinforcement. Although I am not gifted with much modesty, I was not looking for someone to dote over me. I wanted honesty and fairness. I knew and as I still know in my life, that any sort of recognition for my achievements is only as big as my ability to find the gift that they are without people confirming it so. I feel like the accolades for a job well done at the end of my degree was when I was least seeking people's approval, and I never had to seek yours really. I knew the fact that you read ever page of my thesis was enough to know you cared about my studies, about me, and about my future ambitions. Not all professors give the time and attention you (and Stephanie and Dianne) have given to me. It is a gift but one that I sought out.

The real confirmation was when you asked me to speak for graduation, and I stood in front of my family, my class, my professors, and you to say, "You guys gave a lot to me and I won't take that for granted." In the end, I didn't compromise my values or bend my boundaries to be the best at something in school. In the end, I didn't lose sight of the real goal of pursuing a passion through challenges and obstacles. I didn't lose sight of the gifts I was given in the end. I didn't forget, even when I sometimes wanted to, that I wanted all the challenges for the sole reason of making me a better person and training me to be a better scholar. I'm not done training of course. Never will be. I had one of the best college experiences because of the opportunities I was given. Bob, thank you for those opportunities.

I feel like this letter shys away from saying goodbye. In all honesty, (with your permission before I bust down the door) I hope to still have you around in my life for many years to come. So I don't want to say goodbye. I still have stuff to learn from you. I value our friendship and your mentorship, and I simply refuse to cut that cord.

Thank you for introducing me to Stephanie too. The opportunity to be an intern for her continued to be one of the really fun experiences I had amidst the chaos and pandamonium of my last year. You two are a powerful force together and I continue to hear from all sorts of students, professors, and from some of your colleagues at the ASE conference that you both have made a huge impact with your generosity and welcoming philosophy.

Finally, thank you for being you and for you letting me be me. I send my best wishes.

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