Saturday, May 24, 2008
The City of God?
I'm heading to Florida for a few days with my girlfriend to celebrate passing my general exams. The more theologically savvy among you will be able to deduce my specific location from the title of this blog post.
You can expect a brief blogging hiatus followed by an end-of-trip photo essay.
This announcement brought to you by the Association of Bloggers Who Still Think People Care What They Have to Say. (Believe me...it's a big group.)
(1) comments
I'm heading to Florida for a few days with my girlfriend to celebrate passing my general exams. The more theologically savvy among you will be able to deduce my specific location from the title of this blog post.
You can expect a brief blogging hiatus followed by an end-of-trip photo essay.
This announcement brought to you by the Association of Bloggers Who Still Think People Care What They Have to Say. (Believe me...it's a big group.)
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Soon, you will call me "master"...
As of this afternoon I have now completed all of the requirements to earn a masters degree from the history of science program at Old Ivy University. Some of you might have thought that completion of general exams would have been enough considering how much time and energy went into that process, but the Graduate School Powers That Be [TM] beg to differ.
No, according to them, getting the degree requires 9 courses, 2 language exams, 2 research papers, and surviving the general exam gauntlet. I finished both of my language exams last fall and my first and second research paper requirement the spring semesters of my two years here. And we don't need to go into the ordeal of general exams again...but needless to say, I passed. So all that was left was my actual course requirements. Because of generals (which I promise, I will stop mentioning after this sentence), I tapered down my courseload during my second year. Where as last year, i took three classes per semester, for a total of six, this year, I only took two first semester so that I could begin preparing for...well, you know.
Now for those of you keeping track at home, 3+3+2=8 and I needed 9 courses under my belt to finish the first phase of my graduate education. In an ideal world, I would have just taken three courses last fall and been done with it, but there was one further twist. All members of the history of science program have to take a methodology course offered only once every two years. This time around, it was this spring. So whether I wanted to or not, I had to take one class this semester. (I also sat in on a history of technology lecture course, but that was just for me. Let's just say I had my reasons...generally speaking.)
The class itself was relatively painless, although it had more than its fair share of philosophy of science, which can be rather painful in small doses. It also required four reading responses during the course of the semester, which I tended to liven up with graphics and occasional jokes which make no sense unless you are familiar with people like Bruno Latour or Donna Haraway. (Just for yuks, you can always check out an abridged and illustrated version of the latter's Cyborg Manifesto here.) But there was also a final paper, and that's what I finished today.
The paper itself was, in theory, relatively painless. The assignment: write a book review of approximately 8 to 10 pages about a handful of books related to the history of science. I chose four books related to science conducted in non-democratic settings like Nazi racial hygiene and Soviet nuclear physics and figured I could write two pages on each book and a single page introduction and conclusion and then be done with it.
Of course, things did not go according to plan because I am incapable of brevity. (After all, this post was originally going to consist of a single sentence!) I ended up writing a 19 page first draft, cut down eventually to 15 over the course of several revisions. Thankfully, my professor is lenient about this sort of thing. She'll hopefully see that I put in some serious thought (which I did) and give me the passing grade I need to proceed.
Assuming all goes according to plan, I'll be on my way to thinking about my dissertation. And in a few months, I'll have a fancy master's degree certificate to hang on my wall.
Either way, not too shabby!
(0) comments
As of this afternoon I have now completed all of the requirements to earn a masters degree from the history of science program at Old Ivy University. Some of you might have thought that completion of general exams would have been enough considering how much time and energy went into that process, but the Graduate School Powers That Be [TM] beg to differ.
No, according to them, getting the degree requires 9 courses, 2 language exams, 2 research papers, and surviving the general exam gauntlet. I finished both of my language exams last fall and my first and second research paper requirement the spring semesters of my two years here. And we don't need to go into the ordeal of general exams again...but needless to say, I passed. So all that was left was my actual course requirements. Because of generals (which I promise, I will stop mentioning after this sentence), I tapered down my courseload during my second year. Where as last year, i took three classes per semester, for a total of six, this year, I only took two first semester so that I could begin preparing for...well, you know.
Now for those of you keeping track at home, 3+3+2=8 and I needed 9 courses under my belt to finish the first phase of my graduate education. In an ideal world, I would have just taken three courses last fall and been done with it, but there was one further twist. All members of the history of science program have to take a methodology course offered only once every two years. This time around, it was this spring. So whether I wanted to or not, I had to take one class this semester. (I also sat in on a history of technology lecture course, but that was just for me. Let's just say I had my reasons...generally speaking.)
The class itself was relatively painless, although it had more than its fair share of philosophy of science, which can be rather painful in small doses. It also required four reading responses during the course of the semester, which I tended to liven up with graphics and occasional jokes which make no sense unless you are familiar with people like Bruno Latour or Donna Haraway. (Just for yuks, you can always check out an abridged and illustrated version of the latter's Cyborg Manifesto here.) But there was also a final paper, and that's what I finished today.
The paper itself was, in theory, relatively painless. The assignment: write a book review of approximately 8 to 10 pages about a handful of books related to the history of science. I chose four books related to science conducted in non-democratic settings like Nazi racial hygiene and Soviet nuclear physics and figured I could write two pages on each book and a single page introduction and conclusion and then be done with it.
Of course, things did not go according to plan because I am incapable of brevity. (After all, this post was originally going to consist of a single sentence!) I ended up writing a 19 page first draft, cut down eventually to 15 over the course of several revisions. Thankfully, my professor is lenient about this sort of thing. She'll hopefully see that I put in some serious thought (which I did) and give me the passing grade I need to proceed.
Assuming all goes according to plan, I'll be on my way to thinking about my dissertation. And in a few months, I'll have a fancy master's degree certificate to hang on my wall.
Either way, not too shabby!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
My Final Exam
My general exams are over and I passed.
As I read over that sentence, I'm tempted to just stop writing. I have been hoping to write those eight words for two years and now that I finally can, I'm not really sure how much anything else I add will effectively capture my profound sense of relief and (dare I say it?) happiness. There is just something so satisfying about seeing that all of the time and effort I put into this process have finally paid off.
People have told me that the completion of general exams marks the peak of one's academic knowledge. After that moment, a graduate student's focus is forced to become a specialist in the process of completing a dissertation.
So do I feel particularly smarter? Not really. There were a few occasions during the discussion this afternoon where I fumbled for answers. I decided to tackle my minor fields first and the finish with the major field where I felt most comfortable with the material.
The U.S. history field went well enough though I needed some prodding to recall exactly why the National Recovery Administration failed. Thankfully, I was able to reference the correct Supreme Court decision (Schechter Poultry Co. v. U.S.) once I realized that my professors were not asking about its structural deficiencies. I was also able to make a reference to my time at Underwood High School in a discussion about whether racial discrimination results primarily from legal and social institutions or personal prejudice. Even more shocking, I tried to make reference to my undergraduate senior thesis on the American Communist Party while describing the historical difficulties associated with maintaining liberal coalitions.
Perhaps because my first minor field was divided between two professors, the half hour passed quickly and I was feeling rather confident as I began to my history of technology field. Then the questions started and two problems quickly manifested themselves. First, my professor had only a limited idea of what books I had actually read, despite the fact that I provided him with a copy of the list in advance and he had time during the first half hour to peruse it and make sure, for example, that I had read anything about how Henry Ford advertised the automobile. (Short answer: No I had not. Perhaps my friend who had twice as many books on his major field list had, but who can keep track of such things?) Perhaps even more frustrating, however, was my inability to determine where his lines of questioning were going. I had been warned about this from a previous examinee. Basically, when asked a question in office hours or a seminar, my professor will respond with a 15 minute anecdote leading to an answer. This is his style of teaching and it works well most of the time. Oral examinations are the exception to the rule, because the student is the one expected to provide the answers. So as much as he would like to tell you the answer, he can only provide a series of questions leading towards a particular end point and hope that the student figures things out. This, it turns out, is a rather painful process, equivalent to being guided through a briar patch while blindfolded, complete with many sharp, painful stops. If I had just been asked about the distinction between IBM's hardware and software services during the 1960s, I might have sounded slightly more coherent, but such was not to be. The best I can claim is that I did not feel completely in the dark regarding material I had actually studied.
Also, everything I read on technology prior to 1850 was completely irrelevant. So much for knowing how a Jacquard loom works.
My final hour of the oral was spent answering questions on my major field: modern science. As mentioned earlier, this was the most difficult part of my written exam thanks to my professor's tendency to ask mind-blowingly broad questions. Nevertheless, I still felt the most comfortable with the actual material thanks to our biweekly online review sessions. (Online because my professor has been working on a book in Berlin this year.) My professor posed his first question and I felt a strange mixture of calm and confusion. The calm came because he had not started off with reference to my written exam, which he had informed us the week before, meant that he likely did not have serious problems with its content. The confusion came because the question was framed as part of a discussion at a cocktail party. Roughly, he wanted me to explain in five minutes or less how the study of genomics had developed starting with Mendel's pea plant experiments in the mid-19th century. Fortunately I was able to devise a rudimentary narrative from Mendel through eugenics to Morgan, and then on to the phage group, Watson and Crick, and the failures of Gamow's RNA Tie Club and the success of Nirenberg and Matthaei in deciphering the genetic code. And that was just the first question! In its breadth it set the tone for the rest of the hour as we jumped from topic to topic---a few minutes on German theoretical physics, some discussion of biography as a genre in the history of science, then off to Cold War security issues in American physics. I was actually rather thrown by a discussion of the Manhattan Project when it looked like I would be asked to name who was in charge of each of its major sites, but thankfully that discussion devolved into a more technical back-and-forth over the difference between uranium and plutonium warheads. Though I admit I nearly fumbled and said that U-238 was not radioactive...in fact, it is radioactive, but not conducive to chain reactions. I also fumbled a question on whether or not there is such a thing as Nazi science by forgetting to include Deutsche Physik in my answer. But then I recovered soon after by describing the differences between the introduction of Western science in China and Japan.
With that my two hours were up and my professors sent me out in the hallway to await their verdict. I had taken off my watch prior to the discussion and with it securely stowed away in my jacket pocket I had no way to keep track of how long I was out there. It certainly felt long enough, as I had enough time to walk down the hallway and get a drink of water. But shortly after I got back they opened the door and announced that I had passed. As my minor field examiners shuffled out of the room to await the next graduate student on their lists, my major field advisor congratulated me on completing what would be the final timed exam of my academic career. He said that I handled myself well, despite some difficulty with broader historiographic questions (especially in technology), and that I demonstrated a excellent command of factual details in each of my fields. And then, he told me that I should go relax.
I confess to feeling a small degree of let-down, partly because I did not pass with distinction (though I doubt many people will) but moreso because this big event which I have been anticipating for months is finally over. Soon I will have to return all of the books--at least seven full shelves worth---to the library and begin thinking about my dissertation. (Ideas for topics are welcome!) But for now, I think I shall take my professor's advice and relax. My girlfriend met me soon after the exam with a bottle of champagne and has an exciting plan for the afternoon all lined up including a movie (Iron Man!), a nice dinner (possibly prime rib!), and then a chance to meet up and celebrate with my fellow graduate students (whom I hope have all passed their exams!).
All in all, it's shaping up to be one memorable day. This was my final exam...ever. There will be one more paper to finish next week. And then I will have earned a master's degree and will be one step closer to becoming a full-fledged academic.
Summer prospectus workshops, dissertation research, and the prospect of teaching undergraduates may eventually loom on the horizon, but for now, at least, the future is looking bright.
My general exams are over and I passed.
(0) comments
My general exams are over and I passed.
As I read over that sentence, I'm tempted to just stop writing. I have been hoping to write those eight words for two years and now that I finally can, I'm not really sure how much anything else I add will effectively capture my profound sense of relief and (dare I say it?) happiness. There is just something so satisfying about seeing that all of the time and effort I put into this process have finally paid off.
People have told me that the completion of general exams marks the peak of one's academic knowledge. After that moment, a graduate student's focus is forced to become a specialist in the process of completing a dissertation.
So do I feel particularly smarter? Not really. There were a few occasions during the discussion this afternoon where I fumbled for answers. I decided to tackle my minor fields first and the finish with the major field where I felt most comfortable with the material.
The U.S. history field went well enough though I needed some prodding to recall exactly why the National Recovery Administration failed. Thankfully, I was able to reference the correct Supreme Court decision (Schechter Poultry Co. v. U.S.) once I realized that my professors were not asking about its structural deficiencies. I was also able to make a reference to my time at Underwood High School in a discussion about whether racial discrimination results primarily from legal and social institutions or personal prejudice. Even more shocking, I tried to make reference to my undergraduate senior thesis on the American Communist Party while describing the historical difficulties associated with maintaining liberal coalitions.
Perhaps because my first minor field was divided between two professors, the half hour passed quickly and I was feeling rather confident as I began to my history of technology field. Then the questions started and two problems quickly manifested themselves. First, my professor had only a limited idea of what books I had actually read, despite the fact that I provided him with a copy of the list in advance and he had time during the first half hour to peruse it and make sure, for example, that I had read anything about how Henry Ford advertised the automobile. (Short answer: No I had not. Perhaps my friend who had twice as many books on his major field list had, but who can keep track of such things?) Perhaps even more frustrating, however, was my inability to determine where his lines of questioning were going. I had been warned about this from a previous examinee. Basically, when asked a question in office hours or a seminar, my professor will respond with a 15 minute anecdote leading to an answer. This is his style of teaching and it works well most of the time. Oral examinations are the exception to the rule, because the student is the one expected to provide the answers. So as much as he would like to tell you the answer, he can only provide a series of questions leading towards a particular end point and hope that the student figures things out. This, it turns out, is a rather painful process, equivalent to being guided through a briar patch while blindfolded, complete with many sharp, painful stops. If I had just been asked about the distinction between IBM's hardware and software services during the 1960s, I might have sounded slightly more coherent, but such was not to be. The best I can claim is that I did not feel completely in the dark regarding material I had actually studied.
Also, everything I read on technology prior to 1850 was completely irrelevant. So much for knowing how a Jacquard loom works.
My final hour of the oral was spent answering questions on my major field: modern science. As mentioned earlier, this was the most difficult part of my written exam thanks to my professor's tendency to ask mind-blowingly broad questions. Nevertheless, I still felt the most comfortable with the actual material thanks to our biweekly online review sessions. (Online because my professor has been working on a book in Berlin this year.) My professor posed his first question and I felt a strange mixture of calm and confusion. The calm came because he had not started off with reference to my written exam, which he had informed us the week before, meant that he likely did not have serious problems with its content. The confusion came because the question was framed as part of a discussion at a cocktail party. Roughly, he wanted me to explain in five minutes or less how the study of genomics had developed starting with Mendel's pea plant experiments in the mid-19th century. Fortunately I was able to devise a rudimentary narrative from Mendel through eugenics to Morgan, and then on to the phage group, Watson and Crick, and the failures of Gamow's RNA Tie Club and the success of Nirenberg and Matthaei in deciphering the genetic code. And that was just the first question! In its breadth it set the tone for the rest of the hour as we jumped from topic to topic---a few minutes on German theoretical physics, some discussion of biography as a genre in the history of science, then off to Cold War security issues in American physics. I was actually rather thrown by a discussion of the Manhattan Project when it looked like I would be asked to name who was in charge of each of its major sites, but thankfully that discussion devolved into a more technical back-and-forth over the difference between uranium and plutonium warheads. Though I admit I nearly fumbled and said that U-238 was not radioactive...in fact, it is radioactive, but not conducive to chain reactions. I also fumbled a question on whether or not there is such a thing as Nazi science by forgetting to include Deutsche Physik in my answer. But then I recovered soon after by describing the differences between the introduction of Western science in China and Japan.
With that my two hours were up and my professors sent me out in the hallway to await their verdict. I had taken off my watch prior to the discussion and with it securely stowed away in my jacket pocket I had no way to keep track of how long I was out there. It certainly felt long enough, as I had enough time to walk down the hallway and get a drink of water. But shortly after I got back they opened the door and announced that I had passed. As my minor field examiners shuffled out of the room to await the next graduate student on their lists, my major field advisor congratulated me on completing what would be the final timed exam of my academic career. He said that I handled myself well, despite some difficulty with broader historiographic questions (especially in technology), and that I demonstrated a excellent command of factual details in each of my fields. And then, he told me that I should go relax.
I confess to feeling a small degree of let-down, partly because I did not pass with distinction (though I doubt many people will) but moreso because this big event which I have been anticipating for months is finally over. Soon I will have to return all of the books--at least seven full shelves worth---to the library and begin thinking about my dissertation. (Ideas for topics are welcome!) But for now, I think I shall take my professor's advice and relax. My girlfriend met me soon after the exam with a bottle of champagne and has an exciting plan for the afternoon all lined up including a movie (Iron Man!), a nice dinner (possibly prime rib!), and then a chance to meet up and celebrate with my fellow graduate students (whom I hope have all passed their exams!).
All in all, it's shaping up to be one memorable day. This was my final exam...ever. There will be one more paper to finish next week. And then I will have earned a master's degree and will be one step closer to becoming a full-fledged academic.
Summer prospectus workshops, dissertation research, and the prospect of teaching undergraduates may eventually loom on the horizon, but for now, at least, the future is looking bright.
My general exams are over and I passed.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
An Intellectual Marathon
102 hours and approximately 12,000 words after I received my general exam questions last Monday morning, I can now claim with reasonable certainty that I have completed one of the most intense experiences of my academic life. I have been told by people in other departments that the general examination system in the history program here at Old Ivy is an anomaly. That for the most part, qualification for a master's degree is not a madness-inducing, sleep-depriving ordeal.
But for some reason the history department, and the history of science program of which I am a part, decides to take the road less traveled by making what used to be a single-day exam into a week-long endurance trial. According to one Soviet specialist with whom I chatted after turning in my test, the department was reluctant to change what had been a time-honored format, but the widespread use of computers ultimately forced its hand. Too many people were simply cutting and pasting answers they had prepared in advanced. The test difficulty had to be ratcheted up to keep techno-savvy grad students from making a mockery of the department's tradition of academic hazing.
So now instead of two or three essays, there are between six and nine. Not that it matters in terms of total word count. Everyone is expected to clock in at approximately 12,000 words. Write too few and your essays won't be taken seriously. Write too many and they WILL STOP READING or at least, so says the memorandum I received on the subject. Of course the twist is that it's 4,000 words per field no matter how many essays are assigned. So if you are given 3 essays, you only have 1300 words a piece to say anything coherent about what is by nature a very "general" theme in the history of whatever it is the field covers. Things like "Describe how American liberalism changed in the 20th century." or "Can technology develop separately from science?" You know...big, sweeping themes with no right or wrong answer. Arguments and questions that people have devoted multiple books to answering.
You have 1300 words. Don't waste time.
Based on previous exams, I had expected at least one of my fields to have three questions, but instead I had six. My professors gave me a choice in each case from a group of between three and five options. I tried to pick ones which didn't have overlapping content between essays. Things got a little redundant in my American history minor field, but I'm relatively confident my professors won't mind too much. In my other two fields, overlap was less of an issue. I am annoyed at my technology minor field exam having no questions related to the dozen or so books I read on the industrial revolution in England. (All those hours trying to figure out how a water frame, a spinning jenny, and a mule were related! And before you ask, the mule is not a literal mule...)
The most challenging of the three fields was my major field: the history of modern science. There were only two groups of two questions from which to choose and none of the choices were exact duplicates of questions from previous examinations, so the few outlines I had made were rendered pretty much useless. Not to mention that my professor, who is incredibly cool to work with, shares my love of the occasional mind game--like asking, I kid you not, a question consisting of only two words---which would be fine with me if someone else's general examination were involved. Needless to say, I saved this field for last, devoting most of Wednesday and all of Thursday to hammering out answers, including one for that two word question.
Whether or not that strategy paid off remains to be seen. The oral exam, consisting of a 2 hour interview session with my professors to follow up on my responses is on Tuesday. Only then will I know whether or not my hard work this year, and last year now that I think of it, have paid off and whether or not I will be on my way to earning a doctorate from a prestigious Ivy League institution or out the door with a master's degree and no particularly detailed career backup beyond returning to my old teaching job.
Here's hoping it's the former. I'll let you know in either case.
(0) comments
102 hours and approximately 12,000 words after I received my general exam questions last Monday morning, I can now claim with reasonable certainty that I have completed one of the most intense experiences of my academic life. I have been told by people in other departments that the general examination system in the history program here at Old Ivy is an anomaly. That for the most part, qualification for a master's degree is not a madness-inducing, sleep-depriving ordeal.
But for some reason the history department, and the history of science program of which I am a part, decides to take the road less traveled by making what used to be a single-day exam into a week-long endurance trial. According to one Soviet specialist with whom I chatted after turning in my test, the department was reluctant to change what had been a time-honored format, but the widespread use of computers ultimately forced its hand. Too many people were simply cutting and pasting answers they had prepared in advanced. The test difficulty had to be ratcheted up to keep techno-savvy grad students from making a mockery of the department's tradition of academic hazing.
So now instead of two or three essays, there are between six and nine. Not that it matters in terms of total word count. Everyone is expected to clock in at approximately 12,000 words. Write too few and your essays won't be taken seriously. Write too many and they WILL STOP READING or at least, so says the memorandum I received on the subject. Of course the twist is that it's 4,000 words per field no matter how many essays are assigned. So if you are given 3 essays, you only have 1300 words a piece to say anything coherent about what is by nature a very "general" theme in the history of whatever it is the field covers. Things like "Describe how American liberalism changed in the 20th century." or "Can technology develop separately from science?" You know...big, sweeping themes with no right or wrong answer. Arguments and questions that people have devoted multiple books to answering.
You have 1300 words. Don't waste time.
Based on previous exams, I had expected at least one of my fields to have three questions, but instead I had six. My professors gave me a choice in each case from a group of between three and five options. I tried to pick ones which didn't have overlapping content between essays. Things got a little redundant in my American history minor field, but I'm relatively confident my professors won't mind too much. In my other two fields, overlap was less of an issue. I am annoyed at my technology minor field exam having no questions related to the dozen or so books I read on the industrial revolution in England. (All those hours trying to figure out how a water frame, a spinning jenny, and a mule were related! And before you ask, the mule is not a literal mule...)
The most challenging of the three fields was my major field: the history of modern science. There were only two groups of two questions from which to choose and none of the choices were exact duplicates of questions from previous examinations, so the few outlines I had made were rendered pretty much useless. Not to mention that my professor, who is incredibly cool to work with, shares my love of the occasional mind game--like asking, I kid you not, a question consisting of only two words---which would be fine with me if someone else's general examination were involved. Needless to say, I saved this field for last, devoting most of Wednesday and all of Thursday to hammering out answers, including one for that two word question.
Whether or not that strategy paid off remains to be seen. The oral exam, consisting of a 2 hour interview session with my professors to follow up on my responses is on Tuesday. Only then will I know whether or not my hard work this year, and last year now that I think of it, have paid off and whether or not I will be on my way to earning a doctorate from a prestigious Ivy League institution or out the door with a master's degree and no particularly detailed career backup beyond returning to my old teaching job.
Here's hoping it's the former. I'll let you know in either case.
Monday, May 05, 2008
Generals Week
I receive my general exam questions in less than an hour.
Here's hoping that all the work I've done this past year pays off.
Wish me luck. I'll let you know how things go on Friday.
(1) comments
I receive my general exam questions in less than an hour.
Here's hoping that all the work I've done this past year pays off.
Wish me luck. I'll let you know how things go on Friday.
