It's that time of year againÃ¢â‚¬”sick time. Everyone's getting the flu. I already have it and it's knocked me out for the last couple of days. I've been scrambling to keep up with class work. There's so much to do. Just tons. I've got systems integration, which means how to turn your studio project into something resembling a build-able building; my Reyner Banham class, which this week is all about the rise and fall of Brutalism; my theory class, Foucault and friends, with tons of reading; Mark Gage's atmosphere and effects; and then of course a little something we call studio.
I've been thinking about hierarchy and naming recently Ã¢â‚¬“ specifically, all the names we give to the people who teach us. Instructor, critic, teacher, lecturer, professor Ã¢â‚¬“ these words all mean slightly different things. “Critic” is the most amusing, the one who criticizes our work, who judges our performance. I'd rather just call everyone “Professor,” but thanks to the University's tenure system, not everyone is a professor. Alas. There are “professors,” and “lecturers,” according to official nomenclature, those on tenure-tracks and those not. I've also seen “adjunct professor” used as a consolation prize. I wonder how much rancor there actually is within the faculty, here or anywhere, because of these breaks in rank and title.
I've been worrying a lot lately, too. Worrying about the career path I've chosen Ã¢â‚¬“ will I find a job I really like? If jobs I like are so scarce then why am I in this profession? Why don't I draw more? Do I know enough people? Are they the right people (whatever that means)? Etc., etc. I've been so shy in school, and I feel I may have missed out in forming what Dean Stern calls “strategic alliances.” It's just not my thing, really. I don't think of people in that way. They're either friends or they're not.
Perhaps with some more sleep and more catching up I'll feel a little better about the whole thing.