Wednesday, August 30, 2006 | 
Posted by
Plaid
Friday, August 25
I read this article today and wondered where something like this leaves us?
Is sharing our secrets here good or bad? Are they part of our identities or can we keep them stored away safely? Do we engage in conversations here only to preserve our tenure chances, academic safety, and reputability, or to preserve our selves too?
Is sharing your secret with a stranger - or as a stranger - different than sharing it with someone you know intimately?
Is sharing our secrets here good or bad? Are they part of our identities or can we keep them stored away safely? Do we engage in conversations here only to preserve our tenure chances, academic safety, and reputability, or to preserve our selves too?
Is sharing your secret with a stranger - or as a stranger - different than sharing it with someone you know intimately?
Thursday, August 24
I was very excited to get an invitation to join academic secret, but I've been feeling twinges of impostor syndrome when trying to think about what to post. I'm not a real academic (any moment now someone will realize they made a mistake letting me into grad school) and I'm certainly not cool enough to be part of a secret cabal. After rereading the archives, however, I'm feeling more confident because I'm pretty sure that I can beat all y'all at something, even if I have to bring up an old argument to do it.
Salmon Ella first claimed to be the “resident slacker of academicsecret” back in July, but didn't seem eager to fight for the title when thistle challenged her*. I'm ready to take you on, though, thistle! Thistle's pretense to the title: “There are many weeks when I only manage to work 20-30 hours at being a graduate student, and I don't even have a baby.”
Ha! I laugh at your “20-30 hours”! A day when I do 2 hours of vaguely work-related activities is a day of astounding productivity for me. Usually, it takes all my motivation to do the bare minimum required to keep my model organisms alive.
Let me share a typical day with you:
8-9am – alarm goes off, hit snooze (repeat)
10.30am - realize my dreams of one day getting to work before 11am are about to be shattered, yet again
11.30am – start getting ready to leave
12pm - arrive at work, read more blogs (or at least hit refresh until something new shows up in my feed reader) until everyone else leaves the lab
6pm - realize that my organisms are going to die if I don't feed them
7pm – finally drag myself away from the computer to feed my organisms
7.15pm – go home
Anyone think they can top that for slackerness? Bring it on!
Pre-post update: Sadly, since I wrote the first part of my post, my advisor managed to kill my sense of achievement. She came by to ask for an update on my progress and after I mumbled my excuses about shipping delays (read: forgetting to place the order) and lack of facility access (read: not getting around to returning the signed forms), she started talking about all the exciting new ideas she has for my project. She seems to be feeling bad that my project is having problems (it does have some that aren't entirely self-induced) and is sure that once I get some results I'll be moving ahead much faster! I couldn't bring myself to confess the real reason for my lack of progress. She'll just have to learn the slow way that I can bring errors and delays to the best of projects...
Why does she have to be so nice and supportive and make me feel guilty? And why can I not just do some work??
*Turquoise Stuff also mentioned the title fight, but I'm not sure he(?) is a serious contender. I mean, he has a list!
Tuesday, August 22
I want to take a moment to clarify my Fraud identity. I might feel like I'm undeserving of my current position, or that people think that I'm more capable than I am, but I believe whole-heartedly that I am bright and capable. These past couple weeks I've also learned that I am great at getting things done.
My partner, adept in all the ways I feel inept, is brilliant. His vita looks like a full professor's (and he doesn't even have his PhD yet). He reads incessantly, and now writes as much, and has the broadest understanding of anyone I know in his field. He does have one kryptonetic weakness; he is really bad at getting things done.
We're both new faculty at our institution and both of us had more orientations than any human should endure and more luncheons, retreats, and gatherings than I think is necessary (despite the usually excellent food, and sometimes booze, served there). I RSVP'd to each of them, and gave my menu choices. I balanced my time and wrote them in my calendar. I arrived at each and every one on time and prepared. I got things done. My partner, on the other hand...
It won't get me tenure, but I derive some sick sense of pleasure that I was able to juggle it all (plus kid, who's mine) and not skip a beat, whereas Mr. Brilliant couldn't.
Maybe it was trading in my denim for some dress pants for the first day of teaching, but I'm feeling a little less fraud-like today.
My partner, adept in all the ways I feel inept, is brilliant. His vita looks like a full professor's (and he doesn't even have his PhD yet). He reads incessantly, and now writes as much, and has the broadest understanding of anyone I know in his field. He does have one kryptonetic weakness; he is really bad at getting things done.
We're both new faculty at our institution and both of us had more orientations than any human should endure and more luncheons, retreats, and gatherings than I think is necessary (despite the usually excellent food, and sometimes booze, served there). I RSVP'd to each of them, and gave my menu choices. I balanced my time and wrote them in my calendar. I arrived at each and every one on time and prepared. I got things done. My partner, on the other hand...
It won't get me tenure, but I derive some sick sense of pleasure that I was able to juggle it all (plus kid, who's mine) and not skip a beat, whereas Mr. Brilliant couldn't.
Maybe it was trading in my denim for some dress pants for the first day of teaching, but I'm feeling a little less fraud-like today.
I just can't do it. There has to be secret force in the universe that prevents the word NO from exiting my mouth. I bow down to those of you have mastered this force and ask for guidance as to how to vanquish this horrible foe. I feel the assault on my spinal column with every request. I do not wish to fall victim to academyosteoporotic syndrome. I mean a forced spinectomy is one thing but this is self-inflicted! Oh wise colleagues, please share your secrets!!
Thursday, August 17
I was reminded today of something my sister said to me last year, when I was having trouble getting my work done and suffering humiliations galore from my professors.
I was telling my sister about how one professor was mad at me for doing a crappy job on a paper, and how the professor had told me she thought I wasn't taking her class seriously enough and was insulted. I was worried I had permanently damaged my relationship with this professor. I was also worried that this seemed to keep happening a lot with professors, and I was alienating all of the potential committee members in the department. I told my sister that I thought I was running out of social capital because of my flakyness.
My genious sister said, "But you don't need social capital...you have a fortune in intellectual capital." My sister reminded me that because I have strong quantitative research skills in a subfield that is short on people with solid training of that variety, people were going to need me, even if they thought I was annoying or flaky or whatever.
I thought of that today when I was in a meeting with the supervisor of a project that is a year overdue (it was last summer's "summer" project). My supervisor listened to my short lack-of-progress report, and then changed topics entirely saying, "I'm really glad we had a meeting today...I wanted to pick your brain on something..." that was totally unrelated to our project. Awesome! The supervisor barely noticed that my project moves slower than a glacier, and all I had to do was just sit there and expound on a topic I am very familiar with.
By writing this post, I'm hoping to remind myself not to worry so much about what people think of me as a social person - whether they think I am arrogant, a slob, flaky, whatever. Those things matter, but they matter a whole lot less than the mental space I give them. Because if people think you're smart, and that you're uniquely capable, it doesn't matter so much if you have B.O.
I hope.
I was telling my sister about how one professor was mad at me for doing a crappy job on a paper, and how the professor had told me she thought I wasn't taking her class seriously enough and was insulted. I was worried I had permanently damaged my relationship with this professor. I was also worried that this seemed to keep happening a lot with professors, and I was alienating all of the potential committee members in the department. I told my sister that I thought I was running out of social capital because of my flakyness.
My genious sister said, "But you don't need social capital...you have a fortune in intellectual capital." My sister reminded me that because I have strong quantitative research skills in a subfield that is short on people with solid training of that variety, people were going to need me, even if they thought I was annoying or flaky or whatever.
I thought of that today when I was in a meeting with the supervisor of a project that is a year overdue (it was last summer's "summer" project). My supervisor listened to my short lack-of-progress report, and then changed topics entirely saying, "I'm really glad we had a meeting today...I wanted to pick your brain on something..." that was totally unrelated to our project. Awesome! The supervisor barely noticed that my project moves slower than a glacier, and all I had to do was just sit there and expound on a topic I am very familiar with.
By writing this post, I'm hoping to remind myself not to worry so much about what people think of me as a social person - whether they think I am arrogant, a slob, flaky, whatever. Those things matter, but they matter a whole lot less than the mental space I give them. Because if people think you're smart, and that you're uniquely capable, it doesn't matter so much if you have B.O.
I hope.
Tuesday, August 15
A few notes about picture secrets. First, keep sending them in, they are great! Second, please send them to me, Plaid, instead of posting them on your own. There are various reasons for this. I won't bore you with them, unless you ask.
I realized that the note in the sidebar about picture secrets (under More Secrets) wasn't really clear on the second point so I have updated it to avoid future confusion. I apologize for not being more clear, uhm, I mean more plaid, in posting instructions earlier.
And rest assured that I am not doing anything to try and figure out who is sending in picture secrets.
I realized that the note in the sidebar about picture secrets (under More Secrets) wasn't really clear on the second point so I have updated it to avoid future confusion. I apologize for not being more clear, uhm, I mean more plaid, in posting instructions earlier.
And rest assured that I am not doing anything to try and figure out who is sending in picture secrets.
While I enjoyed my summer - the first in years that I didn't have to teach - a part of me anxiously awaited the start of school and my first year as a full-fledged faculty member at a reputable institution. Now, here I am, a week from the beginning of classes wondering what the hell I was thinking?!
I just returned from two weeks of various personal and professional duties only to discover that my summer has officially ended. New faculty obligations are in full swing and I haven't even finished my syllabi, let alone that article I wanted to get out.
So, in my little world, summer is over and I didn't even get to have one last hurrah. It's time for my annual pilgrimage to the office supply store, marking the beginning of the new year.
In the immortal words of a childhood friend, "Don't wish for something too hard or you just might get it." Despite knowing the truth in this, I can't help but find myself wishing for next summer.
I just returned from two weeks of various personal and professional duties only to discover that my summer has officially ended. New faculty obligations are in full swing and I haven't even finished my syllabi, let alone that article I wanted to get out.
So, in my little world, summer is over and I didn't even get to have one last hurrah. It's time for my annual pilgrimage to the office supply store, marking the beginning of the new year.
In the immortal words of a childhood friend, "Don't wish for something too hard or you just might get it." Despite knowing the truth in this, I can't help but find myself wishing for next summer.
Wednesday, August 9
Sorry about the picture. I'm trying to do the uploading thing so I'll have a picture with my profile. I don't even know if I'm doing this right, and maybe the picture is too complicated to use, but we'll see.
Anyway. The conference our grad program hosts each year is having its abstract reading session tonight, so in honor of that event, here’s a list of some questions a conference chair hates to hear from prospective conference participants:
Q (from someone who hasn’t submitted an abstract yet): “Can you give me more information on your conference?”
A: Well, no. The CFP (call for papers) includes the conference title, date, place, and theme, the deadline for proposals, a description of the themes, a long list of possible topics, the name and bio of the keynote speaker, and our contact info. Did you read the CFP? What more could you possibly need to know? What’s for lunch? What’s the boy-girl ratio? What will the weather be like? How many bathrooms are in the building? Will the keynote speaker be drunk?
Q (also from someone who hasn’t submitted an abstract yet): “Is it ok if I write about [fill in the blank]?” Or, worse, “Can you tell me more about what you’re looking for?”
A: What is wrong with people who ask these questions?!?! I truly don’t understand it. Is it me, or isn’t this the point of a proposal? You propose to deliver a paper about something, and then we decide if we want to hear that paper. I’m not going to tell you what to write about, and aside from the list of possible topics in the CFP, we don’t know exactly what we’re looking for. That’s why you propose something! If you don’t know what an abstract is, or if you need ideas about what to write about, talk to your advisor, or another grad student. Why would you write to the conference chair, a total stranger? Is this even remotely professional behavior?
Q (from a submitted abstract): “Or is it?”
[as in: “It seems feminism is dead…. Or is it?”]
A: Unless you are clearly, expertly writing a parody or tongue-in-cheek reference to B movies (which is highly unlikely), it is in your own best interests not to have a “twist ending” in your proposal or to give the conference committee any extra reason to compare your abstract to a horror movie. You are not M. Night Shyamalan, or if you are, please don’t submit anything to my conference.
So, I've been like a bad father here who hasn't immunized his child against measles because he figures so long as every other kid is immunized she'll be okay. Since everyone else on blogspot seems to have their word verificatoin turned on, I wondered if maybe comment-spam programs didn't bother trying anymore. As it turns out, they do, and they discovered us this evening. So now, word verification is activated for a.secret as well.
Our recent comments blog is working pretty well, by the way, even if we haven't figured out how to put some rundown of the ten most recent ones in the regular sidebar.
Our recent comments blog is working pretty well, by the way, even if we haven't figured out how to put some rundown of the ten most recent ones in the regular sidebar.
Tuesday, August 8
As has been noted in recent comments, it seems that most posters here believe themselves to be, to one degree or another, procrastinatory frauds. I am not exempt (although mostly I feel like a procrastinator; I have a startlingly expansive ego and rarely feel like a fraud, in part because of what I'm about to discuss here).
I would argue that part of the reason that everyone here feels like a procrastinatory fraud is the academic culture in which we're embedded. It never fails: any time a group of graduate students disperses, they all start wailing about how incredibly busy they are and how they have so much work to do. Meetings with faculty members tend to go similarly, although at least in that case it's easy to see what the participants are trying to prove (grad student: "I'm hard-working!"; faculty member: "I'm important!"). It doesn't matter what the grad students are doing, though; they always have to talk about their incredible workload.
I'm not saying we don't all have a lot to do. I've spent most of my summer focusing on one extremely important task to the detriment of other tasks. There are people who are not thrilled. No doubt I could have worked more and harder. But I am firmly convinced that if I had, I would be a crazy outlier in the working habits of graduate students.
Because no one is actually going home and working their ass off every time they leave a group like that. Many times, they go home and watch some TV, maybe surf a little internet, brush the cat, whatever. The important thing is not to let the side down. Anyone who admitted how much of their time was spent not doing work would immediately be That Slacker Grad Student even though everyone else would know, unless they were in extreme denial, that they're not doing any more than that. I'm sure this continues into faculty life. They're always yammering on about how graduate school is, perhaps most importantly, a socialization experience, and this is probably true, and what a benefit! We've all been socialized to feel guilty about reading something that isn't an academic journal and to believe, deep down, that a single episode of Law & Order will be what keeps us from getting tenure.
Maybe you aren't working hard enough. I don't know you, or how much you produce for X amount of work (another issue here being that you can get away with a lot of slacking if you're more productive/efficient when actually working than the average philosopher or what have you). I certainly could have worked harder on multiple tasks this summer, although it would have been a crazy joyless wistful-for-grape-picking existence.
But the important thing to remember, if you're measuring yourself against your colleagues, is that none of these people are actually working as hard as they claim to be, either. It is all a lie. You participate in the lie, you try to judge your life by the lie--don't do it! Take a sneaky insider's delight in the lie, and tell people very solemnly how much work you have to do before you go out for ice cream.
I would argue that part of the reason that everyone here feels like a procrastinatory fraud is the academic culture in which we're embedded. It never fails: any time a group of graduate students disperses, they all start wailing about how incredibly busy they are and how they have so much work to do. Meetings with faculty members tend to go similarly, although at least in that case it's easy to see what the participants are trying to prove (grad student: "I'm hard-working!"; faculty member: "I'm important!"). It doesn't matter what the grad students are doing, though; they always have to talk about their incredible workload.
I'm not saying we don't all have a lot to do. I've spent most of my summer focusing on one extremely important task to the detriment of other tasks. There are people who are not thrilled. No doubt I could have worked more and harder. But I am firmly convinced that if I had, I would be a crazy outlier in the working habits of graduate students.
Because no one is actually going home and working their ass off every time they leave a group like that. Many times, they go home and watch some TV, maybe surf a little internet, brush the cat, whatever. The important thing is not to let the side down. Anyone who admitted how much of their time was spent not doing work would immediately be That Slacker Grad Student even though everyone else would know, unless they were in extreme denial, that they're not doing any more than that. I'm sure this continues into faculty life. They're always yammering on about how graduate school is, perhaps most importantly, a socialization experience, and this is probably true, and what a benefit! We've all been socialized to feel guilty about reading something that isn't an academic journal and to believe, deep down, that a single episode of Law & Order will be what keeps us from getting tenure.
Maybe you aren't working hard enough. I don't know you, or how much you produce for X amount of work (another issue here being that you can get away with a lot of slacking if you're more productive/efficient when actually working than the average philosopher or what have you). I certainly could have worked harder on multiple tasks this summer, although it would have been a crazy joyless wistful-for-grape-picking existence.
But the important thing to remember, if you're measuring yourself against your colleagues, is that none of these people are actually working as hard as they claim to be, either. It is all a lie. You participate in the lie, you try to judge your life by the lie--don't do it! Take a sneaky insider's delight in the lie, and tell people very solemnly how much work you have to do before you go out for ice cream.
Procrastination has been a major theme around here. I could spend some time adding links to the relevant entries, but seriously, pick a post at random and chances are good that procrastination is part of the theme (if not the entry then the comments).
And while it has been helpful to hear that other people face this issue as well, it was especially helpful to read this about a method that may actually help you/me/us get over it. Yes, I'm seriously inspired and plan to implement this method. I don't think I'll go as far as to write the check out to an organization I hate, just because I am hopeful that I won't need that kind of added pressure. However, the general idea sounds very promising. And seriously, it all requires less than an hour a day for some tangible productivity. Sign me up! And as an added incentive for implementing the method, I promise to report back to you on how it goes. (I mean that as added incentive for me, not for you per se, but feel free to join me in promising that you'll have something to report on in a week or two.)
And while it has been helpful to hear that other people face this issue as well, it was especially helpful to read this about a method that may actually help you/me/us get over it. Yes, I'm seriously inspired and plan to implement this method. I don't think I'll go as far as to write the check out to an organization I hate, just because I am hopeful that I won't need that kind of added pressure. However, the general idea sounds very promising. And seriously, it all requires less than an hour a day for some tangible productivity. Sign me up! And as an added incentive for implementing the method, I promise to report back to you on how it goes. (I mean that as added incentive for me, not for you per se, but feel free to join me in promising that you'll have something to report on in a week or two.)
Monday, August 7
Why did it take me several weeks to follow the exciting (and secret!) invitation to join this blog? Because I'm a professional procrastinator, of course. I don't think that this is a big secret in academia, but I have to confess that I make considerable efforts on a daily basis to hide my true nature from the vultures circulating over my head, the most voracious of all being my bad conscience (this is where faking your own death doesn't come in handy, dear Scarlet, since you'll always know your own whereabouts...so if anyone has an idea on how to hide from oneself without the use of psychotropics, please share it with me!). The vultures are always particularly aggressive on Mondays. I hate Mondays! Every time a Monday comes around, I feel like some evil troll is holding a mirror up to me, asking me in a gnarly voice: "So, are you proud of yourself now, Wisteria?" The arrival of any given Monday is a proof of my failure to fight procrastination. Here's a recent (er, ongoing) example:
- Nice flattering letter from big name journal on June 3: "Dear Dr. Wisteria, we're asking for your expert opinion" etc. etc. "To allow for a speedy turnaround, please submit the review by July 20."
- Thinks Wisteria: Piece of cake! That's, what, 3 or 4 months from now. I have plenty of time to squeeze that in. Forgotten is my past experience in which I started suffering from cold sweats, pulsing headache, mild to severe nausea according to the degree of menace in the tone of the once sympathetic editor the further the due date disappeared in the past (but, unfortunately, never went away). So merrily I reply with an enthusiastic "Yeah sure!"
- On July 13 I find a polite reminder email in my inbox. There still is plenty of time. However, I can now start using the pending review as an excuse for other tasks to be queued. As in: "I'm awfully sorry, but I can't do xyz because I'm working on this review".
- On July 20 I find a polite reminder email in my inbox. That's right, the review. I understand, I understand. Don't rub it in my face: "The review is now due". But today is Thursday, and that's almost Friday, right? And Friday is the beginning of the weekend. What editor in their right mind would make a fuss over a tiny little weekend extension? Monday's as good as ever. So I grant myself a tiny little weekend extension. This means that I have ALL WEEKEND to read the paper and write the stupid review.
- On July 24 something terrible happens: It's Monday. I haven't started reading the paper, and the week tumbles upon me with a million distractions.
Some of us have rather long names on here and it may be tedious for others (or even ourselves, but we rarely have to) to type out the entire name. At the same time, it seems advisable to avoid offending people by using abbreviations that miss a crucial part of the person's name (see Orange Ina's clarification of a related "incident" over the weekend) or names that they just don't like.
So I thought I'd post this note and invite everyone (who cares) to comment on their preferred abbreviation. I'll put mine in the comments as well so it's not getting special treatment here (really, it's just so you can see my nifty new profile image:).
So I thought I'd post this note and invite everyone (who cares) to comment on their preferred abbreviation. I'll put mine in the comments as well so it's not getting special treatment here (really, it's just so you can see my nifty new profile image:).
I've been thinking about what to write next, but before I could commit to something, I wanted to make sure that I was different here than on my regular blog. After all, why pick a new secret identity if it's not gonna be secret? Isn't that part of the fun of being a superhero? I mean a blogger.
Which brings me to Poppy Red's recent post, about writing style. Now let's not talk academic writing style, because surely we all write in some way or another that is different than how we speak or write in other venues. But what I am afraid of, after revealing my love of secrets (secrets sounds like such a better word than gossip doesn't it?) and revealing, though vaguely, some of my knowledge, that someone out there will figure out this writing style, compare it to the writing style of my personal blog, and hence, find me out. So just to clarify, department head is not always drunk -- he is quite a brilliant academic, who just so happens to be able to pound back 18-20 drinks at all social gatherings. And really, all those secrets I shared, it was opposite day. So don't believe them. Plus they were written in code. Sorry for turning freaked out, but I have seen one too many episodes of Alias and 24 to be careless.
In trying to figure out how to write here, and wanting to make sure that it is different, I have come to a road block. What is my writing style there? I don't really know. I am not a good judge of my own style, though I can comment on others'. I guess I am too close to it all. Any tips that other colors might have will be greatly appreciated. Since academics are way smarter than the reporters who couldn't figure out Clark Kent was Superman when he wore his glasses, I don't want to just add new frames to the same face, you know?
After all, this is my first secret society membership, and though it may not be considered as prestigious as whatever that one where all the president's at Yale come from, I think it's even better, and I am quite excited.
So until I figure out if you can figure out my voice, I will be working on figuring out my voice. And then using one of those voice changer things to make it sound different. Only not those robotic ones that kidnappers use to demand ransom, cause everyone knows those are just creepy. Plus with CSI, they always figure you out.
Which brings me to Poppy Red's recent post, about writing style. Now let's not talk academic writing style, because surely we all write in some way or another that is different than how we speak or write in other venues. But what I am afraid of, after revealing my love of secrets (secrets sounds like such a better word than gossip doesn't it?) and revealing, though vaguely, some of my knowledge, that someone out there will figure out this writing style, compare it to the writing style of my personal blog, and hence, find me out. So just to clarify, department head is not always drunk -- he is quite a brilliant academic, who just so happens to be able to pound back 18-20 drinks at all social gatherings. And really, all those secrets I shared, it was opposite day. So don't believe them. Plus they were written in code. Sorry for turning freaked out, but I have seen one too many episodes of Alias and 24 to be careless.
In trying to figure out how to write here, and wanting to make sure that it is different, I have come to a road block. What is my writing style there? I don't really know. I am not a good judge of my own style, though I can comment on others'. I guess I am too close to it all. Any tips that other colors might have will be greatly appreciated. Since academics are way smarter than the reporters who couldn't figure out Clark Kent was Superman when he wore his glasses, I don't want to just add new frames to the same face, you know?
After all, this is my first secret society membership, and though it may not be considered as prestigious as whatever that one where all the president's at Yale come from, I think it's even better, and I am quite excited.
So until I figure out if you can figure out my voice, I will be working on figuring out my voice. And then using one of those voice changer things to make it sound different. Only not those robotic ones that kidnappers use to demand ransom, cause everyone knows those are just creepy. Plus with CSI, they always figure you out.
Clear and I have been trying to figure out how we could showcase recent comments on the sidebar of this blog. The Blogger solution is sub-optimal (we had it on here for a while), because it presents comments by recent posts instead of most recent comments themselves (who came up with that idea?!).
We are at the point of having created a "separate" blog that displays all comments. That blog is generated automatically from information submitted to this one. What we would like to have now is a bit of javascript (or whatever script that works with Blogger) that we can put in the template of a.secret so the most recent comments show up on the sidebar right here. (There over to the right that is. --->)
Those of you who use a feed reader can just subscribe to the feed of the a.secret comments blog if you want to be completely up-to-date on happenings here. But since we doubt most/many of you do that, we would like to offer the service on the sidebar right here.
Can anyone help us? We know of a few RSS-to-javascript services out there, but they each come with their share of ads and such, unnecessary material we would like to avoid here.
To summarize, what would be of real help here is if you could send us the exact script that one would generate from the feed link above that can be put in the template file so the most recent comments (say, the most recent 30) show up in the sidebar. Thanks!
We are at the point of having created a "separate" blog that displays all comments. That blog is generated automatically from information submitted to this one. What we would like to have now is a bit of javascript (or whatever script that works with Blogger) that we can put in the template of a.secret so the most recent comments show up on the sidebar right here. (There over to the right that is. --->)
Those of you who use a feed reader can just subscribe to the feed of the a.secret comments blog if you want to be completely up-to-date on happenings here. But since we doubt most/many of you do that, we would like to offer the service on the sidebar right here.
Can anyone help us? We know of a few RSS-to-javascript services out there, but they each come with their share of ads and such, unnecessary material we would like to avoid here.
To summarize, what would be of real help here is if you could send us the exact script that one would generate from the feed link above that can be put in the template file so the most recent comments (say, the most recent 30) show up in the sidebar. Thanks!
Saturday, August 5
A busy Saturday on a.secret, and I'm sorry to push some splendid posts down the page with administrative matters, but:
1. We've recently received positive notice on BlogHer, so the first known review of a.secret in the blogosphere is a rave.
2. We are itching for more Picture Secrets (see sidebar). We were getting a nice queue going, and our hope is that if we built up some momentum somebody would admit to a murder or, worse, plagiarizing large portions of their dissertation from Megan McCafferty.
3. Special note to a.secret contributors: If you want to add a secret-preserving image to your Blogger profile, the easiest way to do this is to upload the image in a post and then paste that link into the Photo URL of your profile. Once the image is uploaded in Blogger, it is not deleted if you delete the text in the post or if you do not publish the post, so you do not have to actually include the image in a published post to use this method.
4. (Problem solved! Thanks!) Special note to generous souls who read this post but are not a.secret correspondents: We want some way of being able to track recent comments in the sidebar, but Blogger does not have this feature and the easiest work-arounds don't really work. Plaid and I are interested in trying this other workaround that requires a GMail account, but our interest in secrecy leads us to be reluctant to use our personal GMail accounts to invite ourselves. So if you have GMail invitations and would be willing to send one to asecretplaid-at-yahoo-dot-com (and maybe, since you probably have 90+ invitations anyway, asecretclear-at-yahoo-dot-com), we would much appreciate it.
5. Presently, the official time of a.secret is Greenwich Mean Time, which may be dear to one of the coordinator's hearts for reasons to remain unelaborated here. We are willing to consider declaring an alternative location for a.secret headquarters (with time zone set accordingly) if there is another place that seems fitting for our clandestine project to profess to be housed.
1. We've recently received positive notice on BlogHer, so the first known review of a.secret in the blogosphere is a rave.
2. We are itching for more Picture Secrets (see sidebar). We were getting a nice queue going, and our hope is that if we built up some momentum somebody would admit to a murder or, worse, plagiarizing large portions of their dissertation from Megan McCafferty.
3. Special note to a.secret contributors: If you want to add a secret-preserving image to your Blogger profile, the easiest way to do this is to upload the image in a post and then paste that link into the Photo URL of your profile. Once the image is uploaded in Blogger, it is not deleted if you delete the text in the post or if you do not publish the post, so you do not have to actually include the image in a published post to use this method.
4. (Problem solved! Thanks!) Special note to generous souls who read this post but are not a.secret correspondents: We want some way of being able to track recent comments in the sidebar, but Blogger does not have this feature and the easiest work-arounds don't really work. Plaid and I are interested in trying this other workaround that requires a GMail account, but our interest in secrecy leads us to be reluctant to use our personal GMail accounts to invite ourselves. So if you have GMail invitations and would be willing to send one to asecretplaid-at-yahoo-dot-com (and maybe, since you probably have 90+ invitations anyway, asecretclear-at-yahoo-dot-com), we would much appreciate it.
5. Presently, the official time of a.secret is Greenwich Mean Time, which may be dear to one of the coordinator's hearts for reasons to remain unelaborated here. We are willing to consider declaring an alternative location for a.secret headquarters (with time zone set accordingly) if there is another place that seems fitting for our clandestine project to profess to be housed.
I'm not Buffy, damn it. And why the hell don't the senior faculty pull their weight? Now, maybe it's unique at my admittedly screwed-up institution, but around here we've developed the term "spinectomy"* to describe a process which apparently occurs after tenure is awarded. Now, normally, you'd expect it to be the other way around, right? But no, apparently not. And every time I have to fight for something that ought to be already in place, I cost myself good will.
It gets particularly bad for "women's" issues. At a focus group in response to climate survey last year (most of the participants to whom I spoke were afraid to answer it honestly, even though it was nominally confidential, by the way), there was a very clear divide around the table -- untenured women on one side, tenured on the other. And we (untenured) all said the same thing: why are you leaving us out here to fight all the battles without backup, even though we are the ones without the protection of tenure, the ones who have to risk our careers to get a bloody restroom within 4 floors.
Maybe I'm just naive, but I expected better than this.
*Credit for coining this goes to another colleague of mine -- and hopefully she'll be blogging about it soon.
It gets particularly bad for "women's" issues. At a focus group in response to climate survey last year (most of the participants to whom I spoke were afraid to answer it honestly, even though it was nominally confidential, by the way), there was a very clear divide around the table -- untenured women on one side, tenured on the other. And we (untenured) all said the same thing: why are you leaving us out here to fight all the battles without backup, even though we are the ones without the protection of tenure, the ones who have to risk our careers to get a bloody restroom within 4 floors.
Maybe I'm just naive, but I expected better than this.
*Credit for coining this goes to another colleague of mine -- and hopefully she'll be blogging about it soon.
This is my first post here, so I hope it's good enough. Secret number one: I often don't think I'm good enough to be blogging.
Speaking about secrets, I gotta say I know a lot of them. In my department, I seem to always be wearing a shirt that says "Come spill your guts, I won't tell!"* See, I added the "*" because I usually tell. I am GREAT at keeping secrets. ....Unless I think that someone knowing that secret would be beneficial to the secret sharer. Or unless it's gossip. Or unless I think me telling you a secret will get you to tell me one beneficial to me. And I don't tell if it will hurt anyone.
Now I know what you're thinking. A) your colleagues must be dumb to trust you. I guarantee they are not. I am definitely the least intelligent. Well, maybe except one person. B) How do you know if telling will not hurt anyone? You aren't a psychic are you? Well no. But I am a pretty good judge of people, so I only share when I trust the other person.
Hmm, now to share a secret in vague terms. I can tell you which professor shares a room with their teenage child, which admin is secretly applying for a better job in another dept, why that post-doc really went to that other continent, which professor didn't have an affair with which former post-doc and which professor thinks that he did. But see, if I give any more details to make these secrets more juicy, I might compromise my caveats.
So instead, I will tell you a secret about myself: I am scared of tampons. Ok, that's not academic enough, I agree. I have napped in my office during the day when I was supposed to be meeting students.
Oh my gosh, please don't tell the drunk department head I told you that.
Speaking about secrets, I gotta say I know a lot of them. In my department, I seem to always be wearing a shirt that says "Come spill your guts, I won't tell!"* See, I added the "*" because I usually tell. I am GREAT at keeping secrets. ....Unless I think that someone knowing that secret would be beneficial to the secret sharer. Or unless it's gossip. Or unless I think me telling you a secret will get you to tell me one beneficial to me. And I don't tell if it will hurt anyone.
Now I know what you're thinking. A) your colleagues must be dumb to trust you. I guarantee they are not. I am definitely the least intelligent. Well, maybe except one person. B) How do you know if telling will not hurt anyone? You aren't a psychic are you? Well no. But I am a pretty good judge of people, so I only share when I trust the other person.
Hmm, now to share a secret in vague terms. I can tell you which professor shares a room with their teenage child, which admin is secretly applying for a better job in another dept, why that post-doc really went to that other continent, which professor didn't have an affair with which former post-doc and which professor thinks that he did. But see, if I give any more details to make these secrets more juicy, I might compromise my caveats.
So instead, I will tell you a secret about myself: I am scared of tampons. Ok, that's not academic enough, I agree. I have napped in my office during the day when I was supposed to be meeting students.
Oh my gosh, please don't tell the drunk department head I told you that.
Friday, August 4
Most of us know that my name refers to an overwhleming fear that I'm a fraud, a severe case of the imposter phenomenon.
Today, as I talked with an old flame (from high school and college) about finally being Dr. Farud, I was completely floored when he asked me, flat out, if I still felt like a fake. He did it in this, "Surely now you know that it's not all your charm and luck, and that it's actually your brains and ability that got you this far?", way. I'd forgotten how much a part of my identity "fraud" was in my life before graduate school.
I realized then that I have had this feeling my entire adult life and that it might never go away. Graduating high school wasn't enough, and college didn't change it, honors classes and degrees, awards, graduate school, a job, and ultimately a pass without revisions on my dissertation (granted by top scholars in their respective fields) has not been enough to conquer this fear.
My old flame kept on, and asked if I respected my professors, valued their opinions, thought of them as intelligent and wise, and I agreed on all fronts. Why then, would they fall victim to me - little old fraudulent me - and my fake identity?
He's right. I know he's right. But I'm afraid that instead of feeling less like a fraud, because these wise, respected people in my field think otherwise, I feel more like one. It's worse because now there are so many more people who will be exposed and humilated when the day arrives that the world discovers I'm a fraud, Dr. Fraud.
Today, as I talked with an old flame (from high school and college) about finally being Dr. Farud, I was completely floored when he asked me, flat out, if I still felt like a fake. He did it in this, "Surely now you know that it's not all your charm and luck, and that it's actually your brains and ability that got you this far?", way. I'd forgotten how much a part of my identity "fraud" was in my life before graduate school.
I realized then that I have had this feeling my entire adult life and that it might never go away. Graduating high school wasn't enough, and college didn't change it, honors classes and degrees, awards, graduate school, a job, and ultimately a pass without revisions on my dissertation (granted by top scholars in their respective fields) has not been enough to conquer this fear.
My old flame kept on, and asked if I respected my professors, valued their opinions, thought of them as intelligent and wise, and I agreed on all fronts. Why then, would they fall victim to me - little old fraudulent me - and my fake identity?
He's right. I know he's right. But I'm afraid that instead of feeling less like a fraud, because these wise, respected people in my field think otherwise, I feel more like one. It's worse because now there are so many more people who will be exposed and humilated when the day arrives that the world discovers I'm a fraud, Dr. Fraud.
Thursday, August 3
Hi everyone! I'm pleased to be creating my first post on academicsecret. My post is actually somewhat related to Mahogany's, in the sense that it's about writing style/voice -- but rather than being about detecting an advisor's voice, it's about an advisor detecting mine.
I got the rather daunting news about a month or so ago that the style of my first dissertation chapter is not up to snuff, that it needs to be more exciting, punchy, vivacious; in short, my style needs to be more... stylish. (I'm in literary criticism, so this matters, especially given the increased difficulty in getting literary studies published these days.) In the past I've been told, by my advisor as well as others, that my work is well-written, so this hurt. But upon re-reading the chapter, I realized it was indeed rather boring. I was doing the thing I really hate when published critics do it: my topic sounded cool at first, but I wasn't engaging the reader.
Here's my secret fear: what if I don't have a style? This might sound ridiculous, but I really don't know if there's anything distinctive about my critical writing, and I have a lot of doubts about being able to develop a style at this stage in the game. At first I was upset with my advisor for not giving me any specific tips on how to develop a style, but then I thought about my own teaching and how difficult it is to help students develop a writing style. You can show them what defines other writers' styles, and you can help them find topics that might tap into their voice, but it's very difficult to teach style. Is style one of those "either you have it or you don't" things? And what if I just don't have it?
I got the rather daunting news about a month or so ago that the style of my first dissertation chapter is not up to snuff, that it needs to be more exciting, punchy, vivacious; in short, my style needs to be more... stylish. (I'm in literary criticism, so this matters, especially given the increased difficulty in getting literary studies published these days.) In the past I've been told, by my advisor as well as others, that my work is well-written, so this hurt. But upon re-reading the chapter, I realized it was indeed rather boring. I was doing the thing I really hate when published critics do it: my topic sounded cool at first, but I wasn't engaging the reader.
Here's my secret fear: what if I don't have a style? This might sound ridiculous, but I really don't know if there's anything distinctive about my critical writing, and I have a lot of doubts about being able to develop a style at this stage in the game. At first I was upset with my advisor for not giving me any specific tips on how to develop a style, but then I thought about my own teaching and how difficult it is to help students develop a writing style. You can show them what defines other writers' styles, and you can help them find topics that might tap into their voice, but it's very difficult to teach style. Is style one of those "either you have it or you don't" things? And what if I just don't have it?
