Every May I attend the International Congress on Medieval Studies at Western Michigan University. It is both a chance to engage with the field that captured my mind and my heart almost 15 years ago, and also (even more importantly) to reconnect with some very dear friends of mine. This year’s conference will be a bit different for me, though, as it marks–at least for the foreseeable future–an ending point to my career as a medievalist.
Three forces have converged to lead me to this ultimately inevitable realization:
1. Quite simply, my research interests are changing. I do have two books under contract, but neither of them has to do with the Middle Ages. One focuses on the scholarship of teaching and learning and the other on disability in the Oz narratives. When I have time to write, I tend toward my interests in pedagogy and in children’s literature now. This is certainly not a bad thing, but it definitely marks a new direction for me as a scholar.
2. Logistically speaking, my opportunities to teach medieval courses are very limited. I do facilitate graduate seminars on teaching, and I also teach in Rice’s wonderful Program in Writing and Communication, but a course on medieval literature will be rare to say the least. I miss teaching Chaucer above all else, as I have seen many students utterly transformed by their study of the poet.
3. As a full-time administrator, I have not been able to find the time to keep sharp the kinds of skills you need to be a successful medievalist: language study, paleography, etc. When it comes to staying current on the latest research in journals and books, I again have found myself doing so with the teaching and learning literature, but less so with medieval scholarship. This, more than anything else, has been a signal to me.
When I moved from my faculty position into administration, I knew that there was potential for some of this to happen. What I didn’t expect was how much my research interests would shift and–quite frankly–how hard it would be to find ways to teach medieval courses.
So, what now? I will still attend Kalamazoo every year. In addition to seeing those aforementioned friends, I still wish to organize and moderate panels for the Society for the Study of Disability in the Middle Ages. It is important to me to see this small field thrive and to give a platform for scholars who are asking important questions about the subject. I won’t be producing new research in the area, though. That is a somewhat bittersweet acknowledgment, but an important one nonetheless.
I am extraordinarily proud of the work done by my students in the medieval courses I have taught over the years (especially those at Columbus State University in Georgia), and I am grateful for the time that I spent deeply embedded in this field if for no other reason than it allowed me to meet some of the most important people in my life. It’s time now, though, to see where these new paths are going to lead me. I may someday return to my medieval work, but I’m just not sure. I’ll always keep a weather eye on what’s happening in Medieval Studies in order to celebrate the great work of all those who devote themselves so completely to this wonderful field.
Before I end this post, I want to say one more thing: medievalists often get a bad rap as being intellectually myopic or solitary scholars or even out of touch with other disciplines. I have rarely ever found any of these to be true. For me, the spirit of Medieval Studies will always be embodied by the time I spent as a graduate student in the Charles A. Owen, Jr. library at the University of Connecticut learning and laughing with Frank Napolitano, Andy Pfrenger, John Sexton, and Kisha Tracy. We shared our work, hashed out our ideas, and–through this field–grew as scholars, teachers, and individuals. I can’t think of anything that better captures the generous spirit of Medieval Studies and those who work within it.