Answered prayer

I believe in prayer. You should know that. This is not an attempt to convert you, just an open acknowledgement that I believe in prayer, and that my prayers have been answered.

I have, in my doctoral candidacy, been foisted upon every critic who was willing (barely) to advocate my case. I am a 20th century American Literature scholar who deals primarily with political literature from WWII on. There are two people in my department who deal with 20th century as well. One deals with literature up to 1920 with a bent towards feminist literature, the other deals almost exclusively with African American literature. Neither one could care less about my subject matter. I have been given over to the administration of American Literature scholars who deal exclusively with 19th century literature.

For the most part, my family and friends have urged me to raise hell, but to what purpose. If the two closest fits to what I do don't do what I do at all, who do I think should step into the gap in order to provide me with some kind of guidance and support.

Keep in mind, a good mentor ought to keep you abreast of scholarship opportunities, presentation opportunities, opportunities for publication--they might even be willing to lend you there name in letters of rec or letters to their friends on editorial boards of magazines. I can have none of this because the two people closest to what I do don't know anybody in any department or editorial staff that would be interested in my work. I'm flying alone. They have been helpful as they can be, or at least as much as can be expected given that they can't help much anyways, but there has been precious little by way of guidance.

I have attempted to move inter-departmentally. There's a guy in another department who is also in the English department--he's in two departments is what I'm saying, but I can never get in touch with him. This is due to the fact that he is a.) the head of that other department, b.) a real looker and thus very popular with the swarms of female students that attempt to crowd his office during office hours (and are, thus, reason for his not attending his office hours), and c.) a jet setting rock star of the academic world--he is, for all intents and purposes, the top man in my field.

I can not get him on the phone. I can not reach him by email. He does not go to his office hours. The man is a ghost.

So, I prayed. I prayed for a miracle. Whatever it takes, whatever omnipotence could do to make my situation less tragic. Let go, let God...that sort of thing.

Next semester I am T.A.ing for the rock star. This is, I'm serious about this, as close to a miracle as is possible. Getting a T.A. ship with this guy, for me, is like hitting the lottery, and I managed to do it without talking to him while operating in a departmentally political climate where I am unnoticed at best and annoying at worst. There are grad students who would go to the mat for this position and I got it without having a mentor who would so much as throw my name into the hat.

...unless of course I'm wrong about all this, either way: God, Randall, Joe--thank you.