I’m working at an international school where my adaptability, critical thinking—and patience—are tested daily. I’m fortunate enough to work with colleagues and students who come from every continent with a diverse range of ethnic and religious backgrounds. As someone who is fascinated by the way people communicate, it’s pretty incredible to teach 10-year-olds who speak everything from Thai to Portuguese; in fact, most are proficient in two or three languages in addition to English. When I’m not learning from my students and peers, I’m travelling around South East Asia with my roommates and co-teachers (fellow St. John’s natives escaping Old Man Winter’s reign of terror).
While I gallivant around the globe, I lug as many books as I can carry. Since finishing my M.A., I read pretty much everything I can get my hands on. After the 5 millionth person suggested it, I read Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath and then moved onto Milan Kundera’s The Unbearable Lightness of Being. On a recent flight to China, I was reading Philip Norman’s biography The Stones when my seat-mate struck up a lively conversation about Mick Jagger’s influence on current musical acts. I found myself headed for Shanghai talking about the likes of Kesha (…should that be Ke$ha?) and that skinny lad from Maroon 5. I’ve since moved on to Sunjeev Sahota’s Ours are the Streets and Naomi Klein’s The Shock Doctrine, which comes highly recommended from friends and relatives in a variety of disciplines.
If I can offer current or prospective grad students any advice, I would strongly suggest you choose the courses that are most interesting to you. I know that might sound obvious, but the M.A. provides a space to explore ideas you are passionate about with other individuals who are eager to engage in discussions and debates rarely entertained in other arenas. Make sure you make the most of that opportunity by picking your courses wisely. While I was in the program, I really enjoyed a Newfoundland literature course offered by Dr. Matthews and an Irish literature course with Dr. Farquharson. I was also incredibly fortunate to write my Master’s research paper with the great Dr. Pat Byrne. The profs that you encounter at Memorial are definitely the program’s biggest asset. Avail yourself of these people. They can help you sort out a particularly tricky theorist or give you life advice on a random Monday afternoon.
Most importantly, ignore every person you meet who makes “That Face” and asks what you’re going to do with an M.A. in English. Like so many others, I finished my M.A. without a clear idea of what my next step might be. Whatever it is you might want to do, the skills you’ll learn during the M.A. will be invaluable. The best assurance I received as a student was delivered with an offhand shrug: “you’re resourceful. You’ll work it out.” Upon closer reflection, the M.A. is a lot like my native province: it can be pretty rough out there, but it’s worth it. Both the ruggedness of life in Newfoundland and the demands of the program will help you sort out what (or who) you want to be. It’s not always glamorous, but rewarding experiences are a little wild and, in the end, uniquely beautiful.
