Here is Mary R.S. Bracy‘s latest post from the Organization of American Historians meeting in Sacramento. Click here for Mary’s previous OAH post: “She Persisted: A New Assistant Professor Tells Her Story.” Enjoy!
As is usually the case when I go to conferences, I have about five million things rattling around in my head at once. Yesterday was a full day. Today I’m headed back home, so I feel like this has just been too quick!
I sat down to write this dispatch last night, but I was simply too tired to type any words on the screen. Our panel started off the day at 8:00 am. I was excited to get going, but was a bit disappointed when we only had three audience members. I guess this is what happens when you’re up against a panel on “Hamilton!” I have participated in a lot of conference panels, but this was one of my favorite. It was first panel I’ve been on where I’m the one with the most experience! I would have never been brave enough as an MA student to even think about presenting a paper at a big conference like the OAH…so I was really happy to see my fellow panelists doing that.
I like to get out of my comfort zone when I go to conferences, so the other panel I attended yesterday was “When All That Is Left Is Words: The Writing Sensibilities of Civil War Soldiers.” Sarah Gardner (Mercer University), Peter Carmichael (Gettysburg College), and Timothy Williams (University of Oregon) each presented papers. I was especially intrigued by Professor Williams’s paper “Prison Pens: The Culture of Writing in Civil War Prisons,” which focused on prisons as intellectual spaces.
I only made it to two panels overall, which is about what I expected. I gave up trying to do everything at conferences a few years ago. If there are papers I really want to see, or colleagues I want to support, I do that, but otherwise I simply try to absorb the intellectual atmosphere. Sometimes this is exhausting; other times it’s completely inspiring.
This time, I’m taking away a deep sense of inspiration from my fellow panelists, who are all young and excited and passionate about what they’re doing. I am in no way old, but I am disillusioned. The academy has hurt people I care about. It hurts to see my friends leave the profession. It’s been frustrating to talk with them as they fill out hundreds of job applications, only to have nothing.
But I’m an optimist at heart, and being on a panel with graduate students fed that optimism. They know that this job market is terrible. But they love the job so much that (at least for right now) the problems seem like a distant future. I tried to offer a dose of reality. I mentioned that the job market is terrible and graduate students need to be thoughtful about the future. But when they started talking excitedly about passing comps, planning dissertations, and writing grants, I just shut up. Because in my disillusioned world, I just needed to listen.