Today was very strange. I have never, in fact, envisioned something so awful in my entire life. Without going into specifics, my defense did not happen. Instead, there was confusion, me crying, lots of yelling, and agonizing apprehension. The pressure of, for three years, having no idea whether I was on track to graduate came to a bursting point today.
It was a long, drawn out battle and in the end, the director of Women's Studies took control and told me the following things:
1. She thought my manuscript should be celebrated because it was very good
2. She thinks my manuscript is the type of book people use to teach women's studies and gender studies classes
3. She thinks I should pursue publication for the manuscript. For my rugby book.
4. I will graduate no matter what
So today was an ugly day, but it is over. And I will graduate. I have my signatures and I feel relief.
I celebrated this relief, of course, by going to work this afternoon. One of my students, a soccer player from Jamaica, asked me what was wrong. I told him I had a rough day. I used a vocab word I learned on my honeymoon and said, "I had a BUM-be-clot day."
His eyes got wide and he said, "Miss Katy, that is a baaaaaaaaaaaad word, man. Where you hear a word like that?" I told him about the schoolboys on the bus in Kingston and he laughed. He told me he could teach me a new word just as bad to say back if I ever return to Jamaica. I made him write it down.
The word is rassclath, though my student said he is unsure of the spelling. We talked about the word and how I should use it. I asked him, "Is it a noun? Can I call someone a rassclath? Is it a verb? Can I say rassclath you, jerk face!"
He said, "It's what you yell, man, like when you stub your whole foot or something like that. Rassclath, man!"
I think that pretty much sums up how my day felt. Like I stubbed my whole body against a piece of broken glass. Rassclath!