Thank You for the Music

The Little Prince  by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

By Chiara Ziletti

In the past six months, my weeks have been rhythmed by the publishing of a blog post here every Tuesday. I still remember how nervous I was when I published my first blog post: “Will people like it? Have I done everything correctly?” As an anxious novice editor, these and many other doubts crossed my mind, but little by little I became more and more self-confident. However, with the beginning of July my appointment as the editor comes to an end. It is time to pass the baton to our new editor, David Papendorf. I am sure he will do great, and I cannot wait to read the new blog posts that he will publish. However, I have to admit that now that the time has come to leave this position I have bittersweet feelings. Indeed, the time I spent being the editor of [Re]collection has meant a lot to me. As the fox says to the Little Prince: “It is the time you spent for your rose that makes your rose so important.” For these six months the blog has been my rose, and I leave this position with the same mixed feelings that a parent would have when seeing off his own grown child. You know your child is going to be fine, but you cannot avoid being nostalgic. Therefore, in this last blog post that I get to publish, I would like to reflect on what being an editor means to me, what I have learned, and express my gratitude for this wonderful opportunity that I had.

As I mentioned, the first times I was publishing a post, I was quite nervous because there is more work behind the scenes than one would expect. Being an editor means that you are the one responsible for the content published on the blog, but this does not mean that you merely have to copy and paste what the authors send you. In my time as the editor of [Re]collection, I had, for example, to keep contact with the authors, think of possible interesting topics for future posts, decide what to publish and when, edit (and rarely write) blog posts, fight with technology (indeed, who does not fight with the computer’s programs, the printer, or else occasionally?), manage the social media accounts, and refresh my knowledge of copyright laws and what fair use is (especially when it comes to images posting). All this requires organizational skills, decision-making, relational skills, a good amount of resourcefulness and initiative, attention to the details, consistency, a more than good command of grammar and style, critical thinking, keeping an eye on current events that might make for a good blog post, and much more. Therefore, I am glad that I had the opportunity of being the editor of [Re]collection because it has allowed me to grow professionally and strengthen my proficiency in all these fields.

However, an editor does not go too far without his authors. Therefore, I want to thank every person who wrote something for the blog, you are what makes this blog alive and so interesting. I loved to meet and work with you, be it in person or just via email. Thank you for cooperating with me, writing your posts, and patiently complying with my suggestions and edits. I enjoyed reading you posts, and I learned something from all of you. Indeed, getting to read from different authors is one of the best things of this job because not only you discover new thigs on several topics that otherwise you might not know or think about, but you give the authors the opportunity to reach out other people with their work.

Lastly, I want to thank the history department for giving me the opportunity to be the editor of [Re]collection. Similarly to the conference (IGHSC) that our PhD students organize, I believe that [Re]collection is a great opportunity that not so many other history departments offers yet. Indeed, organizing conferences and being responsible for a publication are as much part of the academic world as reading, teaching, and writing. Alongside the transnational program, the conference and the blog are what makes our PhD program truly exceptional. Having the opportunity to get out of our bubble by meeting other international students and scholars, becoming good friends, and having the possibility to reach out to the wider public and showing what we do is, indeed, invaluable. I am happy that we get to build bridges and connections.

I hope those who have been reading the blog so far have been enjoying it and finding good content. I, for sure, leave this position with much more than I started with, both professionally and as a person. Even if it is time for me to move on to a new adventure, [Re]collection will always have a special place into my heart. For this reason, I beg your pardon for this final, oversentimental post. I would like to give my final thanks to Jennifer Vannette. Thank you for training me, your suggestions, and support, they meant a lot to me. To Dave, “in bocca al lupo!” And as always, we welcome your submissions. (^_^)

Beginnings and Endings

empty office.jpg

By Jennifer Vannette

“In our everyday life we are so busy moving on to the next task or the next interaction with someone that it can feel like we never finish one thing before starting the next. A mindful goodbye allows you to fully absorb your experience so that it can become part of your learning.” -- Gretchen Schmelzer

Graduations mark both beginnings and ends. We are told in numerous speeches that we will go out an make our mark on the world, that we should venture forth with hope and confidence. That's all well and good, but perhaps it's just as important to consider what is ending. Saturday evening marked my last milestone as a grad student at Central Michigan University. I graduated, and I have to say, the view from the front row was rather nice. The view looking back at my time here is bittersweet. I'm ready to move on, and yet saying goodbye is never easy.

I've been in limbo since my dissertation defense -- not quite a grad student anymore but not yet gone. As annoying as that was at times -- what do I call myself anyway? what am I doing besides blogging occasionally? -- it was a nice to have time to transition. I began to detach myself from the program without having to quit cold turkey. But the nature of academia is to say goodbye. I've been thinking about that quite a bit lately. We leave behind schools as we progress, and if we reach the other side and teach, we say goodbye to class after class. We don't often talk about it, and yet to be an academic is to practice saying farewell a lot.

I'm not going to share anything particularly personal or profound in this brief post. I'm just going to offer that in the rush of going from one semester to the next, we might reflect about how to teach something better or what course to take next or where the next research trip will take us, but we can easily avoid being introspective. The transition time between defense and graduation allowed me to think more deeply about who I became in my time at CMU and what parts of that person matter most to me. That has helped sharpen my focus as I plan my next steps in an uncertain job market. Because I've had the limbo time, I've been able to evaluate my experience and consider more deeply how that experience will apply to my life moving forward. And, so, I've come to value this transition time. It sort of seemed like a waste to have so much time between defense and graduation, but now I'm grateful, and I hope others will find value in the limbo-space as well.

So, my time as editor of [Re]collection also draws to a close. I've enjoyed serving you, the readers, and the history department in this capacity this past year. I am honored that I was trusted to shape this early phase of the project, and I trust you all will continue to submit and participate as the years go on. I will be leaving the blog in the more than capable hands of our new editor, Chiara Ziletti.

I've also discovered that there is virtually no way to write a goodbye without it sounding cheesy in the end, and I don't want that. So, even though it's not night, I'll borrow from Edward R. Murrow and say, "Good night and good luck."