My life is full of brilliant people. I am surrounded by geniuses and child prodigies. These are kinds of people that departments beg to have. The kinds of people that win awards constantly. Who make a profit off of their university training. I often compare myself negatively to those sorts of students. They grasp concepts that I don't, and it all seems to happen so easily for them. I am not a child prodigy. I get offered livable funding.
Oddly enough, I often give off the impression of being someone for whom good work comes easily. I give off the impression of being someone who works in creative bursts of energy. Sometimes, I pretend that this act of working in bursts means that I'm also being more creative. That I'm producing something really good. Most times it's more that I'm working at the last minute. The work I'm producing -- while sometimes good -- has marks of laziness. I don't edit nearly enough. I rarely produce anything that's clean and finished. I constantly produce clever drafts.
I thought about this a lot, when I was watching Proof. This movie was mostly concerned with the sorts of academics who haven't actually taken many university courses, but are grasping concepts and producing work that tenured faculty have never even imagined. (These geniuses are also unstable because geniuses are apparently also crazy.) I'm really not like that.
Do I want to be like that? How am I setting my standards? Am I measuring success by whether or not I receive acclaim? By whether I hold a sizable government scholarship? By whether everyone's "heard" of me? Am I in my field for that? Why would I want to be a young prodigy? Why do we only value the young and brilliant? Is my tendency toward producing breathless, but partially unfinished, work the result of this wish to be someone who does get these things easily?
I was discussing this matter with Christopher, and he asked me whether I like what I do. I responded that I love my field. I've carved out a little niche for myself. A project. A very specific contribution. I love participating at conferences, because I love communicating my research and my findings. And I love teaching. I love getting students to look at themselves as historians.
What should my goals be? I should look to produce work of a better quality. I should spend more time on my work and be less negligent. I should allow myself more time and be more thorough. I should look more at the contribution to my field, and at what I'm really doing, than at how I appear when I am working, or whether such work will receive recognition. And I want to make a livable amount of money. Of course I do. (I do not want to starve. But I'm already not starving.) I'm a historian. Not a genius.
7 comments:
You know, I think you may be comparing apples and oranges here. You're in the liberal arts, and Proof's geniuses were in science-- and the people we normally thing of as "geniuses" are. All of the people I admire in the lib arts are not "geniuses" in the same sense. They all work extremely hard, at a labored pace; they don't come up with brilliance in a moment of enlightenment, they don't cure cancer, etc.
For those reasons, we don't get teh same kind of funding. And, we don't reach our "peak" until later (one great man said that it takes 40 years!). It just means we have a long, productive life to look forward to! (And one of abject poverty, too ;) ).
Oh, I entirely agree, kristiface. And yet I have friends in the Humanities (*coughcough*Karl*coughcough*) that actually are like this.
If it makes you feel any better I consider you one of those people that always gets it. And you can talk about theories and stuff and actually understand what it means. And Kristiface is crazy smart. It always bothers me when this one friend of mine gets talked about like she's the smartest friggin' thing that ever walked the earth just because she's taking math classes. I'm smart too. Just in a different way. Lets see her organize a trip for 3 with 10 locations and 12 interviews in 3 weeks. huh? Yeah, that's what I thought.
What was I talking about again?
This brought to mind a quote:
"I was not a child prodigy, because a child prodigy is a child who knows as much when it is a child as it does when it grows up."
-Will Rogers
So, you're not a child prodigy. Who cares? I don't mean that in a negative way. You're highly intelligent, you know a great deal about your chosen field (among other things), and are succeeding in that field despite your tendencies to procrastinate.
Many of these geniuses, although admittedly being incredibly good at what they do, are lacking in knowledge or insight into other areas. This can be due to a lack of experience, or tunnel vision setting in. You've got a fairly well balanced view of the world, and I, among others, value your opinions.
Karl being a genius hurts my brain. The offspring we produce will likely hurt my brain too, if they inherit his genes. What am I signing myself up for? I used to be the smart one in the relationship. Now I'm just the practical one!
Meg, you're a different kind of smart than he is. You are clearly intelligent, but you sell yourself short, because you're measuring intelligence by the standard of "is fluent in three dead languages." You could crush him with your political knowledge.
No, I prefer to make him laugh really hard at my political ravings. There's nothing so cathartic as a good tirade.
Sorry I keep missing your calls! I miss me some Mary! How does your Monday evening look?
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