Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Academic Spring

When the weather turned nice, briefly, this week, I dragged a colleague out to grab a cup of tea on campus, and instead of taking the tunnels and our coats, we walked outside. I breathed in the smell of melting snow and wet earth and dry sand and warm sun.

"Spring is my least favourite season," I blurted out. "It just makes me so anxious!"

I surprised myself saying it, but it's true! Since high school, I've associated this time of year with fast approaching deadlines for materials I'd been wildly procrastinating on for month. Spring is not new beginning for scholars: it's a time of reckoning. I did my BA at York, which has eight-month courses, so spring was the culmination of everything, and that usually meant desperation, panic, and last-minute calculation of possible grade outcomes. Ugh. Of course, every April also meant packing up all my worldly belongings and moving back to Kirkland Lake for the summer: not really an awesome prospect. Deadlines and impending uprooting! Spring! What's not to love! Similar angst accompanied my MA and PhD coursework years: constant apartment moving, and lots of deadlines, and waiting for results from SSHRC!

My colleague has worked as a sessional instructor for a long time: her spring, she notes, is marked usually by enormous piles of grading and total uncertainty as to employment status two weeks hence. Contingent labour in the academy, I imagine, must feel as mixed up about spring as I vestigially do.

We've written here before about the marvellous opportunities, the spring-like rebirth that September offers us. Well, I guess April can sometimes be the reverse.

I've got no reason to dread spring any more. I own my own home, so I'm not moving anywhere. I have a steady job. I do have a lot of conference paper deadlines, but I get to travel and that always excites me. I just reflexively panic, still, when the snow melts and the trees bud.

You too?

As an antidote to the spring heebie-jeebies, I offer you a video--a lip dub I made with my yoga studio friends and teachers at Queen Street Yoga. It's full of sunshine and smiles and happy music, and it might make you smile as you grade / write / move / job hunt.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Drop us a line! We're angling for vigorous commentary, but we will cut loose any vitriol dragged up from the depths.