phaa-shew: thoughts on finals

Feel free to skip this is you don't give a dang about Sarah's academic career. Here's the short version: I'm in the middle of finals.

I just finished the academic's version of a marathon: I wrote a twenty-page research paper (okay, it was 19 1/2) in 5 hours. My brain is hurting. My body is worn out, and I'm a little shaky. (But that probably has more to do with the fact that I ate a string cheese for lunch, and breakfast? Hmmm. Can't connect the memory cells, which probably means I didn't have any. Oh, wait, an English muffin. Phew. Now the public health side of me doesn't have to feel too guilty.)

I wouldn't recommend the marathon paper-writing, or the string-cheese-for-lunch, for that matter. But, hey, I was just sitting down to write after 3 straight hours of organizing notes. I also wouldn't recommend waiting to decide on a research paper topic until exactly one week before it's due, and that only because you have to give a presentation on your topic the next day.

So I read-read-read half the weekend (every second except for the seconds I was hanging out with Juma), took notes-notes-notes, and then wrote-wrote-wrote. Leaving myself five hours was stupid, but that's what it came down to, so that's what I had to work with.

But for their part, it wasn't fair to the professors to make the final paper due the first day of reading week, two days after the last class got over, just so they can travel during reading week and finals week. But that's the privilege of a professor, isn't it? Deciding due dates. Oh, the power!

Aside from the hurried writing schedule, this paper was actually good for me to write. This class it's for is about the disciplines that study Africa. What does Africa mean to the discipline, and what does the discipline mean to Africa. Okay, a little abstract. But it got me thinking a lot about a problem that has been plaguing me every since I got over my fourth bout with malaria back in 1999. That fateful month that launched me on my career path.

Those little parasites got me interested in public health and anthropology, and, specifically, using both of them to improve the lives of people. But the two disciplines have a rather awkward relationship, one being quantitative and self-assured in its "objectivity," the other being qualitative and denying the existence of "objectivity" except as a construct people find useful to think with. The illegitimate child of the two disciplines is applied medical anthropology, a discipline trying to cater to both parent disciplines as well as international donors and the people it's trying to help. So it's kind of split and confused, trying to prove itself, being accused of "selling out," and who knows if it's actually doing any good.

That's what I wrote about. And I didn't get a chance to even read through the whole thing, so I hope it's coherent and not riddled with typos (thank goodness for spell check). The best part is I sent the email at exactly 4:59pm, one minute before it was due. How cool is that?