I Ain't Afraid of No Professor

Many times, I think about my yesteryears and come to believe that I have become older, wiser, less easily intimidated, and certainly more beautiful. Then I step into reality and discover all is not so, well, except for the beautiful part. That's always true.

Last year, the Soc/Anthro department hosted several colloquiums, inviting professor candidates to present their research to a intimate group of faculty and students. Being young, short, and stupid, I checked one out, not knowing what I was getting myself into. That one fateful colloquium got me sucked in to a series of three lectures with three candidates. Most intimidating was the fact that only 1-2 other students showed up for the events while at least 4 professors showed up each time, and that after I had shown up once, I was expected to show my face over, and over, and over again. And you thought office hours were awkward. Worst part was that at the end, almost everyone asked questions regarding the lecture and I, too, was expected to raise something intelligent.

Now many moons and suns pass and once again, the department invited select students to meet professor candidates. Believing myself to have matured in my sociology, I decided to check one out again, thinking I knew what to expect. Unfortunately, present me is not much smarter than young me. And this time, I was the lone student in the group. I would not have minded that with an intimate gathering of the Soc folks (as most of them believe me to be their stalkers anyway) but the professor-to-student ratio in the room was 10:1. I was surrounded on all sides. And when it came for the Q&A time, the profs were viscious with their question raising it was impossible to get a hand in, let alone formulate some remaining intelligent question while they all one by one, asked the good ones. By the time I got my words in, I was the pathetic last kid with the weak question that may have vaguely been valid had I had a chance to speak up earlier (Professor the Sketch was expecting me to raise an intelligent question, so I had to have a stab at it). All ten professors had their eyes and ears fixed on me. And I'm pretty sure their attention wasn't worth it.

(Sigh) Now I'm that 'special' kid that shows up to random lectures I'm not supposed to. And tries to fit in by asking awkward questions. And they look at me with eyes of pity and confusion. Most intimidating hour ever.

(And to wrap up the session on an even brighter note, Chinese prof, who was also there, commented that after reading my lame card in poor Chinese thanking her for writing a recommendation on how strong my Chinese skills were, I should go back to taking Chinese language courses...)