Trying to Figure It All Out

"Bring on the wonder, bring on the song; I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long...." That song by Susan Enan, as innocuous as it may seem, was one of the little things that pushed me to apply to MFA programs last fall. After graduate education in the health sciences, I finally realized that after working in the journalism field for over a year, I was happiest when writing. I'd been trying to deny it for so long, and go with something more "practical", whatever that means. My research was primarily in oncology, and too many times I'd seen how short life is. No one is ever promised tomorrow, and I decided I did not want to live with regrets, so I applied to MFA nonfiction creative writing programs and one PhD in journalism. Even just making that decision changed my life - for the first time in a long time, I felt excited about my life. I felt alive. And just when I was starting to give up all hope and question my abilities and whether I would ever find my way, I got a phone call that I was accepted to Columbia University's nonfiction program. I'd applied to Columbia not because I thought I would get in, but because it was "Columbia" and I figured, why the hell not? I didn't even fill out all the financial aid forms because I was that sure I didn't have a shot. But you can bet I filled those forms out after the phone call!

It is scary, the financial aspects. But I have taken out loans for graduate school before, and know that it is a sacrifice and risk that will pay off. I believe in it. And I was pleasantly surprised to find out that there are a lot more financial aid opportunities available than I originally thought, as well as an Artists' Resource Center that can provide financial resources. So I am gearing up to take that leap of faith.

As of right now, I have not decided what I will be doing in the fall. I currently live in Chapel Hill, NC, and love my life there. The Carolina Way has seeped into my veins and UNC and the surrounding areas have been my home for the past 4 years. I am actually still waiting on their PhD decision, as well as another school's MFA decision. So until I receive all my notifications, my final choice is up in the air. Columbia's final decision date is actually later than April 15th, so I have some breathing room, thankfully.

I went to the city the other day, since I am up North visiting family, and had an excellent visit. The students were on spring break, but I was able to talk to the financial aid guy and some administrators in the Writing department, as well as see the classrooms and get a thesis anthology of last year's students, a student handbook and a course listing packet. As a psychology nerd, it is hard not to get super excited about the fact that the neuropsychiatrist Oliver Sacks is a nonfiction professor in the program. Individual fit is important in a program; for me, if the fit isn't right, I don't care who is teaching the classes, what the program is ranked, what city I'm in or if tuition is dirt cheap or funded. And for whatever reason, I felt like I "fit" there. It was a gut instinct.

This still doesn't even feel real, like this is my life - not just the MFA acceptance, but the fact that I have even been brave enough to finally take my writing seriously, and to trust this process, this journey that life is leading me on. Last summer, when I was talking about deciding to pursue writing, I mentioned that it seemed so "self-indulgent," to pursue writing, an art. And I was met with this reply: If you don't indulge yourself, who will?

Truer words were never spoken.

How was the economy impacted your program?

by Whitney Gray

It's no secret that the economy has effected colleges and universities. For awhile, I was able to ignore it because it didn't directly effect me. It wasn't until I was accepted to the schools that I realized how serious the financial crisis was. Thankfully, I was able to pick up some federal funding that doesn't have to be paid back (whew!), but I've noticed other things happening with my program.

Our budget for readings has been cut dramatically, and at one point, I was preparing myself for a year without readings. Thanks to some generous donations (mostly provided by staff members!), we have been able to hold several readings, including one by Tracy Kidder. While we haven't been able to have extravagant receptions, we at UNCG have made due with homemade chocolate covered strawberries and the occasional pot-luck supper.

On the business-end of things, UNCG's program has been dealing with the loss of two poets. One moved on, and the other is taking leave for this semester. This has left our only poet to carry the weight of workshop, teaching undergraduate courses and holding tutorials with the second year students. As of now, we are searching for a replacement, which is quite obviously a delight and a relief.

Things seem to be on the upswing. If UNCG can continue to support the MFA program, our budget for recruiting may once again flourish. I'm hoping for the sake of new applicants that the financial troubles schools face don't result in hiking up application fees. (I think I read somewhere that Columbia's fee is $100+?!) I do want to say that I don't feel like I've been missing out on anything so far. I was worried that lack of teachers and lack of money would result in a dull semester, but it has been anything but.

So, what about you? Have your programs been faced with tough decisions or sacrifices because of loss of funding? Are you turning to fund-raising to help support the "extra-curricular" activities of your programs?

Week 1 Update

by Emily May Anderson

So, I made it through my first week. It went a little something like this:

Monday, English 501: Intro to Graduate Study at 9:05am. Intimidating as heck, but encouraging too. That sounds weird, but that’s the only way I can describe it. I don’t feel at all prepared for this class, but I think that’s the point; by the time we’re done with the class, we will be prepared for the rest of our graduate study. We’re getting a crash course in theory, research methods, and how to write seminar papers. I’ve heard a nasty rumor that one of the professors (it’s co-taught by the MFA director and an older, very smart, very professorial medievalist) kind of has an issue with the MFAs in the class, like he doesn’t think we belong there or are “worthy” to be in his class with the MAs. Now I know I am as smart as anyone there so I’m taking it as a personal challenge to do really well in the class and prove him wrong. So, anyway, that was Monday morning. We got out a little bit early, so I got lunch with a couple people, then stayed on campus, did a lot of reading, then taught my first class at 4:40. It went okay; I felt nervous and I think I talked too fast, but it went fine, and I let them out about ten minutes early.

Tuesday, went to campus at 10:30, since I supposedly had Office Hours 10:30-11:30. I read the writing that my freshman had done in class the day before and was really impressed, then heated up my lunch, then went to The Writer in the Community. I didn’t know really what to expect with this class, but I am now really excited about it. We’d had an assignment before the first class to type up a page or so about our ideas of community and teaching writing in non-academic communities, so after the instructor introduced the class and went over the syllabus, each of us read and/or explained what we’d written, and we talked about them, then we decided what kind of projects we wanted to work on this semester and broke up into little groups and started talking about that. I wrote a bit more about the class on my blog earlier this week. That was my only class, so I went back home afterward, went for a nice 4 mile run, and then did some course planning for Wednesday and Friday.

Wednesday my class was Poetry Workshop with Robin Becker. Robin is scary but really great. There are 8 of us in the workshop, including two people I hadn’t met before. We talked extensively about the syllabus, then talked about our respective backgrounds and writing interests, got our assignments and then let out early. Sarah, the other first year poetry MFA, and I went and had lunch, then I putzed around my office for awhile before teaching again at 4:40. It went well, and I was much less nervous than I had been on Monday. The lecturing/writing on the chalkboard thing went well, and a few of the students seemed genuinely excited and interested when I told them that Elizabeth Alexander is going to be reading here in September. The Poetry Workshop has a chapbook focus; we’ll be reading a lot of chapbooks and we’ll be putting our own together in the second half of the semester. Each week in the first half we’ll read and respond to a chapbook, or chapbooks, in two ways: we’ll write a prose response/review and we’ll write a poem in some way inspired by a piece in the chapbook, either formally or in terms of subject or etc. Each person theoretically should get to workshop each week. I read the first chapbook and started my prose response that night.

Thursday I packed my lunch and met my neighbor Nicolette and an MA named Grace for lunch around noon, then we went to our Teaching Seminar. Talked about how the first two days had gone, got a few ideas for Friday and the first major assignment, then Grace and I walked over to check out the rec center. It’s not included in our student fees, but it’s super cheap to join as a student: $99 for the whole year and that covers multiple locations on campus, all the classes, pools, etc so I want to do it. But oh yeah, I had no money (this had been a theme of the week – I was still waiting on my student loan money so that I could buy books and groceries and pay bills and pretty much have a life). I was supposed to come home and go running again, but it was chilly and damp and I was feeling exhausted and disgruntled, so I didn’t. I think I drank some more coffee and tried to write.

Friday I spent the day carefully reading and taking notes on all the articles for 501 that were online (there were a lot of them – they made me feel stupid – I did not like them, but then again, I was grouchy anyway). I went to campus, in the pouring rain, just to teach class, but it went very well; the students were talking and interacting, and the time went super fast. That night Enru (my roommate), Nicolette, and I went up to Grace’s apartment and just chilled and watched a movie.

Today, I borrowed the books for our intro class from Enru and did that reading (not as bad as the articles, thankfully!), then we ended up having four of the girls over for dinner, so I frantically cleaned and cooked and showered. We had a nice time though, and one of the girls mentioned that she’d already gotten her paycheck direct deposited (we officially get paid the last day of the month) so I checked my bank account after they left and saw that not only had I received my paycheck but I’d also received the loan money. So, I paid a bunch of bills, and I get to buy books tomorrow!

Oh, and I also wrote the poem for Wednesday :) I’d tried to do it before and come up with something finished but very bad, so I started over tonight and it just worked.

So, in summary: it was a busy week. I’m only IN class for 12 hours a week, but there is a very definite balancing act I’m going to have to master of prepping to teach, reading/writing for my academic classes, reading/writing for workshop, AND still managing to run and have some sort of social life. I feel good about it though; I feel like I can do it, and I feel (after only a week) that I definitely belong here, I don’t doubt that for an instant, not even when I’m waiting for a bus in the pouring rain or sitting at my table glaring at an article about the Affective Fallacy.