in which I feel disparate
Aug. 31st, 2017 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aryanhwyThis is my first onomastics conference. It's not the first time I've talked about names in a professional capacity, but previous instances have all been to medievalists (albeit often onomastically-informed medievalists). This is the first time where the default position of my audience is to already be on my side.
On the one hand, I have been surprised at how many people I've met who are marginalized in some capacity. There's the PhD student who is working on New Zealand place names in a department of Celtic linguistics. There's the onomasts stuck in a history department (the difference between historians and onomasts, per one of today's talks: historians study names as sources; onomasts study names as names). There's the guy who sat to my right at lunch on Tuesday, who's first degree was in chemistry; and the guy who sat to my left who lamented the fact that there are no longer are any programmes in onomastics in France. There's the onomast in the English lit department, justifying her presence by doing literary onomastics. There's the guy who is writing the comprehensive study of Suffolk place names in his evenings and spare time.
On the other hand, it is been both hard and easy to confess that my own project is a hobby project. It's easy to say "I do this in my spare time" and "I try not to let my home department know what I'm doing because of REF" and "I don't have any grant money, because I haven't found a funding agency that would give me the type of money I need". But it's still hard to admit it. To tell someone, "actually, my PhD is in logic, and what I teach in a philosophy department has nothing to do with names." Or to confess that the technical infrastructure only exists because my husband loves me very much and has donated more time than I could ever have afforded to pay someone for. Or just how many unpaid hours I have contributed to this project.
Even though everyone takes it in stride. Even though no one has made me feel like a fraud (one person did corner me today, having wandered around the Dictionary for awhile. His complaint? In the "how to cite this entry" slug at the bottom of every entry, there is no space between "S." and "L." in my name). Even though there are plenty of other people in my shoes, amidst all the others who are not. Even all that and more, it still feels like it shouldn't be possible, to have effectively managed to run in parallel for 15+ years two academic lives.
Take that, and add in an exchange on the excursion yesterday, which involved a lot of pleasant wandering through natural parks, and plenty of time to sit and relax and rest -- "What is it you keep writing?" -- to which I have to confess it is NEITHER my actual research NOR my hobby research but my THIRD persona, and that I was writing fiction. "Have you published anything?" "Yes, two short stories have come out this year, and I have two more forthcoming, one probably next month and one early next year." *look of surprise*
I feel...disparate. Many different threads all tied into one, when most people only expect, upon meeting someone new at a conference, one thread.
On the one hand, I have been surprised at how many people I've met who are marginalized in some capacity. There's the PhD student who is working on New Zealand place names in a department of Celtic linguistics. There's the onomasts stuck in a history department (the difference between historians and onomasts, per one of today's talks: historians study names as sources; onomasts study names as names). There's the guy who sat to my right at lunch on Tuesday, who's first degree was in chemistry; and the guy who sat to my left who lamented the fact that there are no longer are any programmes in onomastics in France. There's the onomast in the English lit department, justifying her presence by doing literary onomastics. There's the guy who is writing the comprehensive study of Suffolk place names in his evenings and spare time.
On the other hand, it is been both hard and easy to confess that my own project is a hobby project. It's easy to say "I do this in my spare time" and "I try not to let my home department know what I'm doing because of REF" and "I don't have any grant money, because I haven't found a funding agency that would give me the type of money I need". But it's still hard to admit it. To tell someone, "actually, my PhD is in logic, and what I teach in a philosophy department has nothing to do with names." Or to confess that the technical infrastructure only exists because my husband loves me very much and has donated more time than I could ever have afforded to pay someone for. Or just how many unpaid hours I have contributed to this project.
Even though everyone takes it in stride. Even though no one has made me feel like a fraud (one person did corner me today, having wandered around the Dictionary for awhile. His complaint? In the "how to cite this entry" slug at the bottom of every entry, there is no space between "S." and "L." in my name). Even though there are plenty of other people in my shoes, amidst all the others who are not. Even all that and more, it still feels like it shouldn't be possible, to have effectively managed to run in parallel for 15+ years two academic lives.
Take that, and add in an exchange on the excursion yesterday, which involved a lot of pleasant wandering through natural parks, and plenty of time to sit and relax and rest -- "What is it you keep writing?" -- to which I have to confess it is NEITHER my actual research NOR my hobby research but my THIRD persona, and that I was writing fiction. "Have you published anything?" "Yes, two short stories have come out this year, and I have two more forthcoming, one probably next month and one early next year." *look of surprise*
I feel...disparate. Many different threads all tied into one, when most people only expect, upon meeting someone new at a conference, one thread.
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no subject
Date: 2017-08-31 08:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-09-01 08:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-09-01 08:41 pm (UTC)In other words, you're not "disparate". You're special. Although that sentence has long lost its original meaning.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-02 04:55 pm (UTC)Funnily, there was an "are you a polymath" quiz on twitter a few weeks ago, and I failed it abysmally.