I spent several days last week in the presence of some of the academics I admire most. It’s weird the way these people become celebrities after you’ve read them for so long. They seem smaller in person and they talk about normal things, like lunch. The only words I exchanged with the most influential philosopher at the conference were about wine. And I was okay with that.
Something they don’t tell you when you start grad school is that if you’re lucky, you will be doing a lot of things other than studying. Among the most common for us is planning conferences. It’s always amazing to me when we pull it off, because there is no office full of full-time workers. There are only too busy grad students working a few hours a week and never in the same room.
When I wasn’t running around, I sat in on the conference. I should have been focusing, because the content was so difficult, only with full concentration could I make sense of it. But, so often I found myself sitting there thinking about my life.
I decided about three years ago that I was never going to be an academic superstar. It just wasn’t the life I wanted. It means working so hard and sacrificing so much. I could settle for mediocrity. In the presence of superstars, though, it’s hard not to want that for myself. I was sitting there thinking of how I could be better-smarter-stronger. How I could make a way for myself. How I could devote my life to it.
That old voice of reason came back, but this time I didn’t listen. I took the Liz Lemon route and declared, “I can have it all!”
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I’m pretty sure you’re superstar material. Also, I gave you an award today. See? Superstar. http://tuesdaysborrower.blogspot.com/2009/12/award-of-some-sort.html
Don’t sell yourself short. I say just do your best. I sound like a mom.
I already liken you to an academic susperstar! Congrats on pulling off a conference and I am sure it is amazing being surrounded by so many great minds.
Superstar, schmuperstar!
Ashley, you may yet become a superstar (whatever that is) but I bet it won’t be by climbing anyone else’s mountain. You do have a remarkable gift for writing, and the inclination to use it; that’s a start right there. And indulge me while I go out on a limb and say God may yet provide the rest of the equation at the right time.
P.S. I like the top left outtake picture.
I know what you mean. While getting my interpreting degree, I had a wonderful teacher for my fingerspelling class, and she has since gone on to get her PhD and is now doing amazing work. The last time I saw her present, I told her afterward that she needed to stop because she was so inspiring and I already felt overwhelmed enough with what I was currently working toward.
Now that I’m finally nearly done with grad school, what I’ve learned is that whether you pursue academics, or some other direction, if you like what you do and take pride in your work, then you already ARE a superstar. And chances are that if you don’t see it, someone else probably does.
OK, this has been bothering me.
I made what I think was a classic blunder, responding to the wrong thing. I read your post about being among academic superstars, then responded not to the points you made, but to something from my own experience, which was that, while I can identify with the desire to emulate someone of superstar caliber, I have had the experience of once getting to know a “superstar” just enough to discover that in person he, well, didn’t exactly line up with the expectations he happily allowed his fans to have of him. It was a bummer of the kind Ralphie, in “A Christmas Story”, had when he discovered the Little Orphan Annie Secret Decoder was a scam to sell Ovaltine. So when I said “superstar-schmuperstar” I was thinking of that guy, but didn’t bother to explain it and ended up coming off like some sniping cynic, I think.
The other day I heard a guy on the radio who had a command of his topic that was plainly the result of the kind of “superstar” dedication you were talking about. “Ohhh,” I thought, “that’s what Ashley meant.” And I recently had the privilege of hearing two very different (Children’s Lit and Astronomy, go figure) “academic superstars” at the Harvard Club, so I should have known better, but hey it was late. So… I felt like I should come back and clear up the “schmuperstar” thing.
Anyway, Happy New Year, and may you never meet a schmuperstar!