Very Sleepy People

On the 14th, I had my thesis defense.  You see, I’m one of those people who gets anxious about the initial step.  I know once I actually take it, I’ll be fine, but getting there is the problem.  I wring my hands and fret, and then I start thinking of back-up plans.  So, in the two week interim between when I submitted my thesis for my examiners and went in for my defense, I was daily chewing off my lip and asking my roommate if she would make fun of me if I failed.  I’m pretty sure not a day went by when I’d air my fears to her, by which I mean forcefully subject her to my insecurities.

(Since I know you’ll be reading this at some point… sorry, Jessica.)

(Also, since I know everyone else will be reading this…you should tell Jessica how awesome she is for being so supportive.  I am not easy to deal with, and she was wonderful.)

Anyway.  I prepared.  I read through my thesis.  All 375 pages of it.  For the umpteenth time.  I made a list of emendations to be made so that I could present it to my examiners in hopes that they would see I’m still invested in this project and that I’ve carefully considered and evaluated it as a whole.

I prayed.  A lot.  I prayed three different novenas.  I even prayed those novenas three times a day, even though I know that it wouldn’t make it count more.  It just made me feel better.  It also helped my prayer life, but that’s not important to this particular post.

I went to Mass.  A lot.  I went to Confession the day before my defense, and then I went to Mass the day of my defense.  While I was sitting in the pew praying after Mass, I told God that I wouldn’t have gotten this far had it not been for Him.  Every accomplishment is a testament to His continued faith in me, because I accomplished a lot.  I pushed myself and was able to do things that I wouldn’t have been able to do without some Divine Intervention.  So, I reasoned that He wouldn’t have brought me thus far only to let me fail.  I remember praying, “You work in ways I often do not understand, but I accept that Your plan is always better than my own.  I’d like to say that I’ll be accepting if I don’t pass–I want to say that–and I think that on some level I would be, but you and I both know that I wouldn’t be.  It would crush me.  It would strengthen me, but it would crush me.  If that’s what’s meant to happen, though, I’ll still trust you implicitly.”

At that moment, I felt as if I had been more honest with God and myself than I ever had been in my prayer life.  I realized a lot about myself, because I realized it was true.  I would be ok if my thesis wouldn’t pass.  I would be sad, but I would figure something out, because that’s what I do.  I implored Him, though, to be with me and to make me calm, quick witted, intelligent and charming.

I asked for the calming bit first, because at that point, my chest had broken out in a rash.  I can count on one hand the number of times this has happened, but it is always when I am very nervous.  Also, the fact that it was visible above my shirt?  Made me more nervous.  Which made the rash brighter.  Fun cycle, that.  Fortunately, it seemed to dissipate five or ten minutes before I went into the room my defense was held in.  (Thanks, God!  I was obviously not meant to be a tomato.)

I showed up early, and one of my examiners was already in the room.  She’s a poet who teaches at Barnard, and she immediately set me at ease.  She asked me if I was Lindsay, she introduced herself, and we shook hands.  She then said, “I must tell you, I really loved reading this.  Am I even supposed to tell you that?  It was absolutely fascinating.  You’re right, his writing is just compelling.”

I felt better.

Another examiner came in.  He was the internal examiner at my university.  He brought me a gift related to my thesis.

I felt good.

The other examiner came in with my advisor.  I was introduced to my third examiner and then sent to the hall for five minutes so they could speak for a moment before the defense began.  I felt a bit queasy.  I went to my mailbox to check my mail, and one of my professors had left me a Christmas card with a bunch of animals on the front, including a wolf and a bear surrounded around a little bunny.  She had put arrows pointing to the wolf and the bear and wrote “Thesis committee.”  I laughed.  I felt much better.  After that, I went back to the hallway and sat down, thinking it much like grammar school and being in trouble.

My advisor came out and closed the door.  He told me that they were all in agreement and that, provided I didn’t come off as a complete idiot, they were going to pass my thesis.  He quickly added, “So that you don’t feel quite so nervous going in there.”  I felt good.

The defense went wonderfully.  I had thought I’d freeze and stutter, but I was confident and calm and quick to respond.  The words came to my mouth with ease.  All the answers just popped into my head, and I realized that I had nothing to worry about, because I knew this material better than anyone else in that room, and I was beyond prepared.  What I was told would probably take 45-60 minutes took nearly two hours.  The conversation was engaging and interesting, and I found I actually enjoyed the defense.

Afterwards, we discussed the few minor changes I was to put in before submitting my thesis to the graduate school.  There were very, very few, and all were stylistic matters.  One of my examiners is going to be working on a book that contains some of the material in my thesis, and she told me that she was thoroughly impressed with my work and that, should my schedule permit it when the time comes, she would love to have me as her research assistant.  I felt fantastic.  I was flying.  She asked for my email address and she gave me her card.  If I had only felt ok about my work before, at that moment, I truly felt great about it.  It was at that point that I realized that I had actually done something good, because she would not have extended that offer to me otherwise.  That was when I knew.

I talked with her and the poet from Barnard for a while, and they both congratulated me several times and told me what a great job I did.  The first told me how she had met the author my thesis was on; she told me about him, and I felt truly thankful to have been privy to that conversation.  I stayed in the room after everyone left, and then I squealed and clapped my hands, because that’s what I do when I’m really, really excited.

Then I paused.  I closed my eyes and I thanked God.  I then thanked Mary, St Brigid, St Thomas Aquinas and St Joseph of Cupertino.  Then, unknowing of who all to thank, I asked God to bless everyone who had been praying for me and let them feel my grateful heart.  Because it is to all of the above who should be placed on my acknowledgments page.

And so now I’m waiting on my diploma.  You can sit there smugly with the knowledge that my MA is sponsored in part by you, supportive reader that you are.  Doesn’t that make you feel special?