this morning i decided to withdraw from the program.
i was a colllege dropout for approximately four hours.
i essentially decided that i was 97% sure that as soon as i was back on my mother's insurance (i have to be a full-time student to be put on it), i'd formally withdraw from classes, from the program, from temple from grad school from all that.
so ive been waiting. and waiting and waiting and waiting for word from my mama that i'm back on. i didn't exactly get that this morning, but i got something close enough; she told me that she had what she needed from my school, and that she had a few more things to send to the insurance company, but since she has what she needs from the school, i could go ahead and withdraw, if that's what i was going to do.
so that was it. what i'd been waiting for. so i was gonna do it, right?
so i emailed two of my professors, both of whom i was supposed to see in class today. my queer theory and black arts movement classes (the workshop with the wicked woman is held on thursday). i emailed them and told them that i apologize for the abruptness of the informing of this decision (other than the wicked woman, i hadnt mentioned my possible withdrawal to either of my other professors), and that for a myriad of reasons, mostly my diminishing love of poetry and lack of funding, i have decided to withdraw from the program and as such, i would not be in their classes today or any day after.
at 1:39 pm, my phone rang. i didnt answer because i didnt recognize the number. it was a philly number, though.
about 30 minutes later, i checked the voicemail. it was my black arts movement teacher. she said that she was disturbed by my email, and that she's glad that i'm here, and that she wants me to stay, but if i have to leave, i have to leave. she asked me to come to class so we could meet and talk about everything after class. i was touched by her concern, especially when backed with the fact that i still havent heard anything from my QT teacher, so i decided to go. plus, i wanted to talk to her. i should have done it a long time ago.
i got to class about 30 minutes late--class starts at 3:10, i didnt get on the trolley til 3:00, and i missed my train at the station. i got there and went to our usual meeting room. no one was there. she'd been talking about finding another classroom to meet in because our usual spot was so cold all the time. on a whim i went down to the 10th floor and i smelled the scented oil she always wears, sandalwood or some other such boho fragrance. i walked in, huffing and puffing like i'd been running to find everyone (when in actuality it was quite the calm and casual stroll) and i apologized for being late. she said it was okay and called me baby and i sat down and started off trying to will the hours along in a timely fashion. i was fine for the first hour or so, then it became unbearable, as usual. we've finally gotten to the part of the course where we actually read poetry instead of historical background and theory. today we discussed amiri baraka. black poetry. what i've supposedly been longing for (if only we could read some black poetry in workshop...)
i was uninterested. validation: i really don't dig poetry that much anymore.
so anyway
after approx. 28 thousand hours, class ends. 6:05 pm finds me sitting in a faux leather chair in my professor's office, where the air is heavy in the sandalwood or some other such boho fragrance, waiting for her to return from the bathroom. she is only gone for a couple of minutes; when she returns, she whispers to me, before even closing the door:
'what did those women do to you??'
she was referencing my workshop teacher and the other woman who heads the poetry department. i laughed and started to tell her everything, about how i can't stand my workshop teacher, about how dismissive she is, how hard she is to communicate with, about her blackface routine in class, about how she gave us copies of her book and how i intend to sell it on ebay. then she told me that the whole department is like that; that she gets the same thing from this same woman and the chair of the department, only ten times worse. she said that she's pretty much on her own in the department and that she's made a lot of people mad because she spoke out about the things that are going on (i forget what exactly those things were), but by and large, a lot of people are very unhappy with her. she said she didn't care. she seems like that type. i cant think of how to describe it. wait yes i can--like the type of person to say something humorously insulting about something or somebody then laugh really loudly and take a short jog in a semi-circle and go 'wooo girl, im terrible, aint i terrible?! chile, im so baaaad, hahaha!' that type. exactly that type. in fact, she did just that at one point in our conversation, true story.
so anyway. after whatever happened between her and whoever else happened, she wrote somebody up and went straight to the president with her case, which is still pending. so she's on thin ice with some people, but she doesn't really care because she doesnt 'give up easily' (i had a feeling that she was insinuating that i AM giving up easily in pointing that out about herself in regards to my situation. wasnt feelin that too much). then she proceeded to make the following proposal:
after she read my email, she inquired to the graduate secretary or somebody of the sort whether or not a student could switch from one program to another without having to reapply. after all, they've been admitted, right? why wouldnt they be qualified to be placed in a similar program? she said the woman didn't say no, but she said it had never been done before. that leaves enough room to try, and she offered to help me try to git r done. she said that there are ways to avoid people in the program that you clash with, and that there are measures in the master's program requirements that provide for it. i'll have to look at that and see.
she made it clear that it has to appear that this is totally of my own doing, so as not to make it seem like she put me up to it or that she's leading me in anyway or using me to fuel her own personal causes and vendettas. she was big on making that clear.
which leads me to this observation:
she's leading me and using me to fuel her own personal causes and vendettas.
cause check what i found out- i dont know if i mentioned this here or not: http://www.villagevoice.com/news/0127,kitwana,26120,1.html
this was back in 2001. and now this. i dunno, she seems like a drama magnet, and she seems like the type to revel in drama. kinda like my neice--she's always getting in trouble in school but its NEVER her fault. it's her friend, or the teacher, or some little boy. this lady strikes me as the same type.
so i dont fully feel like she wants me to do this because she wants me to stay in the program. she wants me to wage a war against my workshop teacher. i know this because A) she made a direct reference to bad blood between them, and B) when i told her of my personal deteriorating relationship with poetry, and how that was a separate issue that has nothing to do with the workshop teacher, but is having just a big effect on my decision,
she said not to mention it in my case for transfer. mad suspicious.
so, i gotta decide by morning whether or not i want to give the transfer a go. that's like, tomorrow. in the morning. just hours from now. i dunno what i wanna do.
i mean, i want a mater's degree. that wld be fricken awesome. but literature? that's not really what i wanna study either. i dont wanna study other people's works; i wanna write my own.
so i dunno.
she invited me to an art show of her husband's at her house on saturday. she said she knows some people she wants me to meet and that i should come out; i'll be the only student there. my workshop teacher will be there too.
