Yesterday, March 18th, I received the news that I had been waiting my whole life to hear: someone had finally included my name in a graduate dissertation! The shocking news is that it has taken me over 25 years to make it into someone’s paper. I thought my name would have been in one by age 21, maybe 22 at the absolute latest. Needless to say, the news was a relief.
I have never had too many goals in life but to be name dropped in someone’s paper in a graduate program was definitely one of them. I always knew that I was bound to be mentioned alongside the greats of some certain field of science or the arts. It was what I was born to accomplish. Finally, I have accomplished my goal.
As I have mentioned earlier, the news came to me yesterday. I was sitting at my computer, enjoying a cup of Earl Grey tea and aimlessly roaming Facebook, as I would during any free moment I have. All of a sudden I received one of those instant messages I hate so much. Instead of clicking the “x” in the corner to close the message, my usual routine, I decided to actually look at who was sending me this message. It was actually a friend that I had made in New York City during the summer of 2008. She is from England and we don’t speak or communicate with each other often so I decided to actually have a conversation with someone, which is pretty rare to say the least.
So after the usual pleasantries (“hi,” “hello” and all that crap) she said “I have something to tell you.”
Now this got my attention right away. No one ever has anything to tell me, especially not women who live in other countries. Why would they? I am not that important in the grand scheme of things. So with my attention directly on what she was about to tell me she said “I’ve written my graduate studies dissertation in English Literature at the University of Westminster in London and I have included you in it.”
At this point I am completely floored. This is not news that I expect while drinking a tea in my shitty apartment wearing boxers and a t-shirt. The news I usually get while doing something like that is “hey, I think you’re a douche bag,” or whatever is on the Huffington Post. I am not getting news from graduate students at Universities in London, England often.
“What do you mean I’m included in your paper,” I asked her.
I have literally no idea how I could have been included in her education in any way possible. We hung around each other for five days in total almost two years ago while staying in the same hostel in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. I hung out with her, her travel partner and a girl from California, whose name I can’t remember. We went to restaurants, museums, stores, and other regular New York stuff. We didn’t have any meaningful conversation besides “hey, large cans of beer are $0.99 at the Duane Reade at the corner,” or “can you believe how fantastic the coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts actually tastes?”
“Well, do you remember that you brought On the Road by Jack Kerouac with you to New York?”
Quite frankly I had no recollection of bringing that book with me. I do own the book and it does sound like something I would have done. “Of course I remember that,” I lied.
“One day that book of yours was sitting on your bag and I asked you about it. I had never read it before and I was only marginally familiar with it. You said that you really enjoyed the book so I read it soon after I left New York.”
Recommending books to people is something I do quite often so this was not surprising to me at all. What was surprising was what she told me after this.
“After I read the book I decided to really get into the Beat authors. I kept reading Kerouac, Ginsberg and the rest and when it came time to writing my graduate dissertation I chose to write on them.”
(Note from Cameron: If you don’t know who or what a Beat author is there is no helping you.)
At this point I am now swelling with pride. I have influenced someone’s education! I am important! All hail Cameron, knower of fine books! Influence to the intelligentsia! However, I still had no idea how I could possibly fit into anyone’s graduate paper.
“The beginning of my dissertation is written in a sort of prose format. I told the whole story about New York and how you recommending On the Road influenced me to read it and the rest of the Beat authors.”
At this point one thing stuck in my head, I am at the beginning of this dissertation! Even if the paper was terrible anyone who makes it past the first page is bound to come across my name and my influence on the author. What more could I really ask for, a good grade perhaps.
“Oh, and the best news is that I received the highest grade possible,” she then told me.
Unbelievable! My name and an anecdote about my excellent taste are on the first page of an extremely well written graduate studies dissertation at a foreign University. It might be included in some sort of journal. It might get published. I’ve gone international!
So by now I have nothing to say. I am too pleased with myself to say anything; I don’t even congratulate her on an amazing accomplishment. In fact right now is the first time I’ve actually thought of her accomplishment while thinking of this story, how about that?
Then she broke the silence with “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve included your name in my paper.”
“Mind, how could I possibly mind? It’s amazing that you put my name in your paper. I’ve been telling people for years to put my name in their papers. Now it finally happened and I didn’t even ask!”
Minutes after this she had to leave to go to work but my ego had been stroked enough. We said our casual goodbyes and then she was gone.
So yeah, that was the highlight of my week. What was yours?
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