Conferences

One of those necessary evils of this entire continuing education shtick is the whole horse and pony show known as the Academic Conference.  If I could make the text somehow read more ominously in a booming voice or with dripping blood, I would.  Having been introduced to this realm of academia in my last graduate program, I was constantly amazed at how much hubris is truly involved in the sharing of one's academic work.  Not only do I have to be confident enough in my work to present it to a group of my academic peers, but THEY feel compelled to question my methods and research when they themselves likely have no outstanding knowledge of my work.  I love a good discourse on a topic, but I've seen audience members be downright unreasonable with their criticism.  While I certainly admit that good and constructive thought can come out of a conference, I often find myself wondering why - beyond the obvious bolstering of my curriculum vitae I put myself through the rigors of participating in such things.  (Note: this is discussing humanities conferences, as I'm sure scientific conferences are slightly different.)

There seems to be a certain hierarchy to academic achievement when it comes to humanities research:

1. Poster Presentation - This is the presentation that requires not only background research but a certain level of artistic flair.  It requires you to display information in an aesthetically pleasing format in either an expensively printed poster, or one of those fold-up cardboard display boards that you used in your fifth grade science fair.  Having done one of these, I find it actually one of the most difficult.  Not only do you have to stand around and answer questions about your project (because generally people walking by don't actually READ all of your poster) but you have to include as much information as possible without making it too cluttered. 
2. Paper Presentation - This is the presentation previously mentioned.  You write a wonderful paper: well thought out, well done.  Then you take it to a conference, where other members of your field have the opportunity to offer you feedback.  This can either be a good thing or a bad thing, but often leads to at least the nurturing of appropriate public speaking conflict management.  Or they are so stunned by your brilliance that both you and they are speechless.
3. Journal Publication - This is close to the end-all and be-all of research.  Getting published in a journal has its advantages.  One, people cannot immediately give feedback on your article.  Two, if it was good enough to make it into said journal - chances are it's pretty good stuff.  Well done.  Three, this is great for a curriculum vitae booster.
4. Book Publication - This is it folks.  This is what gets you tenure.  If you are able to get something published then you are on the fast track to employment.  This is the ultimate goal.  I will admit that it has always been a personal goal of mine to have my work (other than my Master's thesis) sitting on one of my library shelves.

And yet, here I am.  I recently submitted two proposals for two separate conferences in the spring of 2012.  Not only that, but I am attempting to write brand new original work (as in, not present something already graded and corrected for a class).  And guess what -- I am so excited.

I think that in general I have a pretty thick skin when it comes to research if for no other reason than the fact that my musicology research interests lie FAR outside the normal realms of study.  I like discussing ideas with other people, even if generally they rip a hole in my cleverly crafted research.  It's how you learn.  It CAN be intimidating, but generally afterwards people are still really excited to discuss your work.  And I figure, what the heck -- any excuse to get my name out there is good, right?  It is also a great way to get noticed.  Being a slight introvert like myself, when I attend conferences I am not the most active networker of the bunch.  This gives me an almost instant in -- at least with the people that actually come hear my papers.  We have something to talk (or argue) about.

So I guess what I'm saying is, that while conferences can be seen as a pain in the butt, especially for the young researcher, they still give me that incredibly nerdy thrill.  Consider them an impersonal review committee for a work to be published -- because chances are those audience members may be an invaluable resource in the future.

Introduction

Once upon a time, there was a girl.  And this girl was too impatient to remain in-utero for any longer, and demanded that her poor mother (who is a nurse) stay at the hospital for another twelve hours in order to be born a full month early.  She was blue, tiny, but had quite the set of lungs on her (she had colic twice) and was named Sarah Elizabeth after no one in particular.

Sarah Elizabeth grew up in rural Western Pennsylvania, where her father worked for an industrial company, and her mother quit nursing after her young sister was born.  They lived in a normal neighborhood in a sleepy town.  From a young age, Sarah began spending in exorbitant time in libraries.  Her elementary school librarian, an older woman who was a nun, let her check out /two/ books instead of the normal limit of one at a time, and often laid back new acquisitions for her to gobble up as they arrived.  She spent recess there, helping the woman shelve books.  She spent her mornings there, checking out and returning those two books (which she would read in one night).

This love of libraries would be revisited in her high school years, as Sarah Elizabeth, who'd always had somewhat of a finicky immune system, discovered one chilly February day that she was, in fact, allergic to the solution used to preserve her cat for dissection in Biology II, and thus was banished to the library for the remainder of the unit.  Sarah spent her time instead reacquainting herself with her old friends in the 200s section (she had gone through quite the mythology stage in elementary school), and discovering new friends in classic literature.

When Sarah Elizabeth went off to college, she attended a very small liberal arts school in northwestern Pennsylvania known as Allegheny College.  There she majored in Music, her other great passion, and Women's Studies, a newfound love which grew after she'd decided to take a class on a whim.  Sarah Elizabeth spent her four years there working as a catalog student assistant in the Pelletier Library; a job she regrettably admits she was not too terribly fond of, although enjoyed the people and the atmosphere.  It is hard to like adhering call number stickers to the spines of books day in and out, so she took it with a grain of salt and went on to pursue her Master's degree in Music History -- her great love after spending a summer in Austria, Italy, and the Czech Republic.

As a graduate student, Sarah Elizabeth spent perhaps an even greater amount of time in libraries, specifically the Music Library at Indiana University of Pennsylvania.  It was there, whilst taking a Music Bibliographies class that she realized for the first time -- "I could be a music librarian!"  It was as if a small gas lamp had been lit in the musty stacks of her brain, and the young woman became excited about the prospect.  With the help of her mentors, she began her search for the right school to continue her seemingly neverending education, and ended up the next fall at Indiana University at Bloomington, home of the only music librarianship specialization in the country.

So here she is.  Here I am, I should say.  Just a small town girl trying desperately to gobble up as much knowledge and experience as I can manage in the one calendar year I am spending here in Bloomington.  I admit to being a hopeless academic in the way that some people are hopeless romantics.  I am a goal-setter, a planner, and have a seemingly endless thirst for knowledge perhaps spawned from those early days in the West Hills elementary school library.  When I get my M.L.S. degree in August of 2012, I'm not sure it will be the end of my educational endeavors, as even now I'm working on my PhD applications in Ethnomusicology (but more on that later).

"'I wish life was not so short,' he thought. 'Languages take such a time, and so do all the things one wants to know about.'" —J. R. R. Tolkien


Thus, this blog is about the journey.  Life is short.  I want to remember the good parts.