Reflecting

As you may have noticed, I kind of disappeared from this blog for the past four months (give or take a few months).

Please don't think that I was just abandoning you, dear reader.

I became enveloped in probably one of the most important research projects I'll be doing in my life. My senior seminar.

And this is only the first one.

I started with my English seminar, and, after approval from the English department, chose to look at Shakespeare's Richard II. I wanted to see why performances had a) increased (there have been at least three big shows in the past five years) and b) why, of the ones that I have seen, the characterization of Richard seemed to be so similar.

I started by asking myself whether Richard was being portrayed as gay (a form I termed gay!Richard in my shorthand notes); after some research, I began to wonder if he was actually being portrayed as gay, or if I was just reading a whole lot into it (which I termed gay?Richard); and finally, after some serious discussion with my mentor, decided that he was being portrayed as androgynous (and, you guessed it, this was shorthanded androgynous!Richard).

My interest in the play came from seeing The Hollow Crown when it first came on in 2013. I was a small, overeager freshman, and Shakespeare seemed like the most exciting thing to me since sliced bread. I had read Hamlet as a senior in high school, and was in the midst of a plan to read the Complete Works before I turned 18 (shockingly, that didn't happen). But Hollow Crown helped the history plays come alive for me in a way that I never thought they could - especially because they were so incredibly well cast. When I wouldn't shut up about Ben Whishaw and Tom Hiddleston, my parents bought the DVDs for me as a birthday gift.

Fast forward to last year, when I went to Stratford-upon-Avon for Thanksgiving. I knew that David Tennant was also doing a production of the play, but I had missed it - it was at the Barbican, at the time, and I was not setting foot anywhere near a major metropolitan area after the Paris attacks. But the RSC happened to sell a copy of it - and the employees, when I mentioned that I really enjoyed reading the play, raved about the performance. I was told I had to watch it, and that it was fantastic.

When I got home to the States in the spring, I was mulling ideas over in my head. Since my freshman year, I had always thought I'd write about Gatsby - it is still, to this day, my favorite book, and up until that point, I was pretty certain I would be looking at it in comparison to Donna Tartt's The Secret History. But, one afternoon, when talking to a professor about a number of topics (including my desire to take a Russian lit class before I graduated, which he then offered me the chance to do), the topic of my seminar came up. And, when I mentioned that I had one that I was mulling around but hadn't really considered yet, he perked up. He was even more excited by the idea of working with Richard II than I was, and his response - that our prof who specializes in Shakespeare would be super excited about it - made me think twice about what I was doing. I set up a meeting with our Shakespearean and didn't look back (except to read Gatsby again. Because that's a great novel and everyone should read it sometime).

I don't think I realized just how correct that assessment was. I've never seen a professor so excited about a topic before. And I mean, I was excited (and I'm way more excited now, at the end, about my topic than I ever was at the beginning when I had zero idea about what I was talking about), but not that excited. Over the rest of the spring semester, I was sent essays, suggested reading, and so much more. I spent my summer writing up notes on the basics of homosexuality in early modern England, history plays, and Richard studies in general, as well as performance theory - a relatively new thing in Shakespeare studies.

I did a lot of reading.

And then seminar kicked in.

I learned that, as a double major, my default mode is not English major, but history. And so I worked on cutting down the issues I had with pointing to facts and saying, "so there."

I learned that, while things might be clear to me (and to my mentor, God bless him), the argument chain has to be completely written out for everyone else. So I can't just say, "LOOK AT THIS. THIS IS BAD." I actually have to explain it.

I learned that, just because I thought I wasn't far enough along on my project, that I wasn't actually behind. I watched classmates struggle to meet deadlines because we were all on different timelines and schedules.

I learned that, despite what I think (and I think it often), I am a good writer. I can pull together papers that flow well, that argue cohesive thoughts, and make a point about the text.

I also learned that I can present my ideas well. And sound professional while I do it. Despite what I think.

I also learned that, if you stick two Shakespeare nerds in a room with a project that needs to be worked on, they won't be able to focus for longer than 30 minutes at a time (and by the end of it, baboons on the early modern stage will have come up).

I learned that both of my departments have my back. I have never felt so loved or appreciated as I have this semester, when I would just walk into someone's office and either almost cry from stress or just start talking about a problem I was having (I owe all of you cookies before I graduate).

I learned that I should not be afraid of saying what I'm thinking, or being honest with my mentor. Because let's be honest, if I'm having this question, he's probably been waiting for me to ask it.

I learned that my seminar topic follows me everywhere. No matter how hard I tried, it would pop up in literally every class I took this semester (even in World Wars I and II. Which was impressive.).

I learned that Foucault is hard to read, but if you talk it out enough times, it makes sense (to an extent).

I learned that trying to be in a Shakespeare play and also write about a Shakespeare play at the same time is not the best thing to do. Especially for the sanity of your cast mates, who don't want to hear about traditional staging or costuming techniques for the 500th time (I love all of you - thanks for putting up with me).

I learned that my small group members are invaluable in encouraging me to keep going when times are tough. Thanks, you guys.

Most importantly, though, I realized that I'm definitely on the right track. I'm applying to grad schools right now, and the English programs I've chosen are all early modern, with a focus on Shakespeare. I want to keep doing research like this - looking closely at a text that I love and finding out more about it - for as long as I can. If anything, I've fallen more in love with Shakespeare and Richard II than I was when I started this project. My friends may groan when I mention something that starts with "fun fact" and ends with "Shakespeare" now, but I know that this project has only cemented my love for the Bard.

I'm very glad I've found where I belong.

It's also given me a chance to closely work with the English department. And - let me tell you - this department is fantastic. They don't get nearly enough credit for the work that they do.

I could go on and on with the stories I have about these intrepid men and women, but I'll try and focus.

Working with these people has made me realize just how little I really know about books and literature. But it's also made me realize how great they are. I can walk into someone's office (literally anyone's, their doors are always open) with a question about theory or books or Star Wars or cats and it can lead to an amazing conversation. These people have seen me at my best and my worst, and aren't afraid to tell it to me like it is when it needs to be said. I've had profs come and support me in my extracurricular endeavors, but also remind me when it was time to step back and take a break from life.

In my desire to become a professor myself, I could not have asked for better examples. I have been blest to learn from the very best.

So, as I wrap up the final edits on my seminar paper, I am able to look back on the experiences of this past semester (and all four years of English literature classes) and turn toward the future with a straight back and a confident smile.

Onward to history seminar.