Resting

I've been thinking recently about things that I do for other people; to put their mind at ease. Or rather, things that other people expect me to do.

When I teach I often nod when my students express themselves, rather than stare at them blandly the way I stare at everyone. My awesomely expressive face (yall know) does not do mild interest. (In fact my best expressions must be severe annoyance or disbelief.) When I realized recently that I was nodding at a student but had ABSOLUTELY no idea what he/she were saying (and was sure they hadn't done the reading) I thought of something The Witzig told me as an undergrad. Something about how female undergrads nod a lot in class. Or something (it's been a lot of years since then).

I didn't used to be this person. Ask anyone who went to college with me. I used to stare off into space if someone said something uninteresting, glare if their comment was annoying or stupid, and make eye contact, sometimes smiling, if I thought they were contributing something valuable. But nod, just to make someone feel secure? That I did not do.

So why now? Honestly I don't know, but I imagine that at least part of it has to do with the changes one makes while in a mildly hostile environment.

As I'm getting ready to (possibly) leave my graduate program to head home and continue writing my dissertation I've found myself explaining to my friends in Ohio (all 2 of you!) why I'm leaving. And while there are practical reasons, the only one that matters is that I feel I have a support system at home. And not necessarily my family (although my mom's awesome) but more my mentors who helped me get through SMC. The people who stoked an enthusiasm and passion in me that I can barely remember. The implication is clear: I do not have those things here. At least not in the same ways.

But does this have anything to do with the nodding?

Honestly I'm not sure. I've felt uneasy for most of my time in this program. And intellectually under siege. As in, I've felt that the simple fact that I am an intellectual is, for many people that I've encountered here, under serious consideration.

So maybe I nod because it's easier. Because if I make people feel as if I understand what they're saying maybe they won't notice when I tell them that what they're saying is nonsensical or utter shit. Or maybe if I reassure people that they're saying something I agree with they'll reconsider the other things I have to say. Or maybe (and this is most likely) maybe I stopped giving a shit about this pursuit. This isn't a journey I want to be on anymore. I'm not sure I want to be a historian, b/c for the most part (but not entirely) the historians I've met here depress me and make me really wish I'd picked another discipline. And so I nod because if I'm lucky I'll get a job in a school where people don't say "cultural history" as if it's a disease, my colleagues don't marginalize people who look like me because they assume we haven't contributed anything to history, people don't expect me to agree with them as an indication of my intellect, and the rhetoric of collegiality is so much more than rhetoric.

So the nodding is a symptom, clearly not the disease. And it's not the only symptom. I wonder how many times I've said "I'm fine" "no problem" "everything's cool" "I know" "that's what I thought" "yea, I totally get it" "no, that's not trifling" "hi" recently. Some of these things I say to make people feel better. Some of these things I say because I don't want anyone to worry. Some of these things I say because they're expected. And some of these things I say because it's automatic. And these days I prefer autopilot as much as possible.