Of Concern

Friends,

I could really use some prayer over the next few hours, and quite possibly days. At approximately 11am Charleston time I will place an international phone call, the results of which will have a huge impact on my life. At that time I will defend my thesis.

"What? I thought you'd finished that a long time ago." Well, err, not quite. If you know me at all, you've heard of my extreme stage fright. I joke about it but it also transfers over to writing. When there is something important to write, I sit nearly catatonically staring at the computer screen. Or my hands shake. Or I am unable to sit at all, and pace circles around the room. I reorganize research. I get a drink or use the bathroom or find some other way to stall. My chest tightens and my knees bounce. I find it impossible to write more than a phrase or two without hitting the delete key.

In the past few months, that panic has been overridden by another: panic of not finishing at all. The absolute deadline is here. No extensions, no excuses, no do-overs. If the degree is to be finished, everything must be approved and turned in no later than 4pm on Monday.

So over the last few weeks I made changes to my material, altering the initial focus of the paper drastically and not with terribly effective results. Paniced thinking. Fear of taking too many tangents resulted in not enough background or support. Fear of making absolute statements has lead to vague, qualified claims. I have overthought minor details and ignored larger, necessary elements. I misspelled the name of one of my readers on the acknowledgement page. I have likely mispelled my subject's name in at least one or more places in my paper (Spell check can only do so much with "Ngugi wa Thiong'o.") In short, it is hardly the work I would have liked to produced.

Realize that this is not false modesty, this is an honest, realistic evaluation from a person who has seen plenty of the above written by students. Some of them passed but some of them didn't. Those latter students became anecdotes to share with colleagues as we sat and talked about dwindling expectations and lack of determination by students to produce quality work. Even if this does pass, it is one of those works, however unintentionally, that is not up to what teachers and professors like to see from their students.

The paper is in the hands of the readers and the initial rumblings are not sounding too reassuring. There is the possibility of a last minute rewrite to correct some of the still evident surface errors. But the readers might not have a chance to even look at the changes before the defense.

So pray not just for the approval of this paper, but also for my reaction. And for Amanda's. In many ways she has had the harder road here. She has had to sit by, often unaware of what was happening as I put on a brave face and made promises I had no business making about the ineveitable success of this paper. And yet she will be effected as much as I am.

After the defense, I will wait ten minutes before calling back to find out the results from my readers about whether they will accept this paper or not as fulfilling the requirements. If the answer is yes, I will be relying on a terribly generous friend to collect signatures, take the final copies to the bindery and make sure that the last details have been completed. Amanda and I will celebrate and send out emails and try and sleep (it will be Tuesday here by the time the meeting is over).

If the paper is rejected, I'm not sure what my reaction will be. Thankfully, it will be finished with how to get another extension or appeal. I will send out emails. Amanda will try and sleep. I will likely, ironically, sit at a computer screen and write with shakey hands and knotted stomach. I will pace and "organize" my research into the garbage. I will write a phrase or two and delete it before trying a completely different line of thought. And eventually I will sleep.

Keep us in your prayers.