keeping it real. and just keeping it.

First, some background. Architects have to take a series of nine exams before they are officially licensed, which means that, until they are, they can’t “stamp” anything as certifiably sound, even their own work. Mind you, these exams come after a six- to seven-year stint in school (BA and MA, or a “professional” degree, offered by some schools in a six-year program) and 5600 hours of training under a licensed architect, all of which must be documented and signed off on before starting the exams.*

So, Russell’s getting ready to take his “General Structures” exam and he’s telling me what he’ll need to review. He says, “Yeah, I have to remember all of that sine, cosine, tangent stuff. I haven’t thought about that since Algebra.”** My feelings about my math abilities are documented here, but regardless, I offer to find and loan him my chart from my high school trigonometry class. I also take a minute to brag about the beauty of my chart, the neatness of my printing, the straightness of my, yes, multicolored lines, and the overall economy of space designated to so much important information.

However, instead of gratitude, Russell informs me that his chart is most certainly superior to mine, and proceeds to challenge me as to the merits of our individual handiwork. (We had to make them for the same class because, yeah, we went to the same high school. No, we didn’t hang out.) At the time of the challenge, we were walking downtown to the farmer’s market, so we decided to table the discussion until we returned home.

(As a side-note, yes, I know this kind of conversation is as juvenile as it is ridiculous, to say nothing of dorky, but what can I say? This is my life. I’m a dork.)

No sooner do we get home before I’m rifling through my files. It doesn’t take long to find it:



See? Beautiful, right?

Russell’s is nowhere to be found…

And maybe that’s because he’s not a packrat. A shot of my files, which contain notes from high school, undergraduate, and graduate classes, all of which are neatly packed into manilla folders and ordered by class and/or date taken:



For the next hour or so, I dipped into a few of these files, reading aloud particularly insipid, yet utterly earnest passages—from documents I esteem(ed) enough to haul from Perrysburg, Ohio, to Oxford, Ohio, to Moscow, Idaho, to Columbus, Ohio, to Cincinnati, Ohio, and beyond—while Russell listened and laughed at me.

Have you ever heard of Cringe, a reading series wherein people share their (really awful, embarrassing, usually poorly written) adolescent writing? Well, I have half a mind to start an offshoot series for really bad academic writing. I’m certain there’s already a site for this kind of thing, with a cool title and everything, but I’m ready to start one anyway. (Attention: I’m terrible at titles, so feel free to offer one up.) I’m obviously ready to go with excerpts like this gem, from a paper on Silas Marner:

“When creating a novel, many writers chose a scenario or way of life on which to base the storyline. By carefully choosing and expanding on characters in a novel, the author draws us into the story and allows us to “see” through his or her eyes.”

Seriously? They do? Sage, Jen. Sage.

Or this, from an application to, ouch, graduate school for my masters degree:

“This letter has, I hope, provided you with a clearer picture of who I am and where I want to go. I think my diverse areas of study are a good indication of my flexibility and determination as a student, but I also hope my desire to focus upon literature is apparent to you.”

I cannot begin to articulate in words the shame I felt just typing the phrase “focus upon.” It makes me want to barf and laugh at the same time. Awkward and nervous, my favorite combination. I sound so very sincere. Not even a whiff of irony. And I can’t even think about the word choice…

Anyway, the whole thing made me laugh today—I mean, who actually keeps (to say nothing of freaking LAMINATING) their trigonometry chart???? But it also gave me pause: with so much evidence to the contrary, can I honestly presume to teach writing? In ten years, when I look back on my job letter and my CV, will I be able to bear the shame? And what about the fact that I just used the phrase “gave me pause”? Gouge away.

Before I end this tome, here’s a picture of the gorgeous and super-flavorful REAL tomatoes we bought at the market today. In my opinion, only two good things happen in the summer: baseball and what I call “dirt tomatoes,” tomatoes grown in the ground instead of in hydroponic, sterile environments that make them taste like plastic… Sea salt, fresh pepper, olive oil…yum.



*While I sympathize with this perspective on architects (I’ve listened to an hour-long conversation about the wonder that is concrete), I also sympathize with anyone who must endure so many hurdles for so little pay. It’s no wonder they want to talk about it. They’re sure as hell not being suitably compensated or appreciated.

**Seriously, what are the practical uses of sine, tangent, or cosecant? I really want to know. Ryan N., I’m looking at you here…