Shout It From the Mountain Tops

For the greater part of my doctoral program, I've struggled quite intensely with self-doubt.

Am I really cut out for this? Maybe I shouldn't have switched into this field. Why don't I understand what this scholar-in-actuality is talking about in his/her book/article/presentation? Why didn't I get that position? And most frequently: What will I do if I can't find a job?

I don't doubt that I can be a teacher, but I do doubt that I can be a scholar. This is only exacerbated by my intense ambition: I don't want to simply be a scholar who wallows in obscurity. I want to be the best scholar in my area so that when people refer to me they say, "What she doesn't know about the North Country isn't worth knowing."

But I just received a most encouraging email from a scholar-in-actuality whom I know through Big Society.

I introduced myself to him two years ago at a conference as the student of Advisor after he had given a paper on archaeology and the North Country. When I saw him at a conference a year later, he clearly remembered me because as I approached him, his face lit up and he addressed me by name. He then proceeded to invite me to join a group of other scholars who specialize in the North County as they were heading out for dinner and drinks. (You can imagine how badly I felt in turning down the invitation; I had made prior plans to have dinner with Prof. Mom and the editor of the book that she's working on.)

I haven't spent much time talking with him at all, but he just emailed me (heaven knows how he managed to find my email address!) and asked if I would be able to read a draft of an article about North Country that he's working on.

Now, this doesn't pay anything. And my name won't be mentionned.

But it means the world to me that this near stranger would remember my name and my area of interest and would be willing to ask for my input on some scholarly work on the North Country.

I think I'm going to head to the nearest mountain top to do some serious shouting.