Introducing: Raquelle Bostow

Dear smart women (& others) who write,

I’m so incredibly pleased to introduce to you the newest member of team SWW!

raquelle b&w

Raquelle Bostow is a truly dangerous woman who has experience as managing editor for Holly Tucker’s Wonders & Marvels, and is in the process of launching a restaurant review site.  Like Tanya and I, she’s got a passion for the public humanities, working to find ways in which to use her writing experience and training to form partnerships with people and organizations that could use it. She sees education not as something that just happens in the classroom, but an ongoing process that happens within the self, and in every interaction.

She is currently a university lecturer in French who is on the job market. She’s looking at both traditional academic jobs, as well as “alt-ac” and “non-ac” positions that will let her utilize her skills in languages and in gender studies. She’ll bring us posts about what that process looks like, how to find mentors for each part of that process, self-care when not on the tenure track, her experience with writing groups, and foreign language teaching.

When I sat down with her for coffee, her vibe was so SWW it wasn’t even funny. She’s resilient, creative, hard-working, and determined to use her training to be thoughtful and reflective. She applies her insights to problems in the wider world, and that’s why we think you will love what she has to say.

I can’t wait!

-Angela Sutton

The Spaces In Between

There are life-changing moments, and there are life-changing moments.  There are the ways you hold those life-changing moments in your memory: that sense of who you were before, and who you’ve been since, and how pivotal that moment was in your life. Over time, you take it as a given: of course that was such a life-changing thing, and of course it’s changed who you were and where your life was headed. Only one day, you wake up and realize that it’s the thing you never talk about, at least not online.

It’s been ten years since my life-changing event. Ten years ago, nearly halfway through my first pregnancy, we lost our son.

This is the thing I don’t talk about, at least not to you or any of my friends or even really with my family. This has become the private grief that my husband and I share. It’s become the thing that shaped so much of who I’ve become, the thing that I think most people forget, especially as the years pass, and especially as I have a vibrant almost-five-year-old rocking my world today.

No, they don’t forget. We just don’t talk about it, and that’s okay. But ten years on, I still think about it every day. I still hit every March and try to pin down exactly when it happened, because ten years on, I can’t quite remember – and that’s okay, because ten years on, it’s not really something that you cry about any more. Not most of the time.

A wise friend told me, back then, that time passing would help. That getting through the milestones like when the baby would have been born, and when the baby would have walked and talked, and when the baby would have started kindergarten – all those things would hurt, but would also help make it better.

(Those were the easy parts, but not so much the parts where you watch your friends start growing families while you sit back and wait a little longer and screw your courage to the sticking place.)

I didn’t come here today to grieve, although maybe I did a little. Mostly, I wanted to write about what happened after, since I was in my third year of graduate school when I lost my son, and only two months away from my comprehensive exams and getting my dissertation prospectus approved.

If you’re not in grad school or academia, that may sound weird, but I don’t care. These are the things we never talk about, but the telling is worth it.

Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood. – Sondheim

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To Chapters, New and Old

TasselOne of the nice things about social media is that you never forget an important date, like the one when you defended your dissertation. In the six years since then, so much has changed, but not everything. For example, I haven’t entirely left grad school behind – or at least, I’m still working on what once was my dissertation project. Only now, I have a little more to show for it.

Before I finished the dissertation, before I took my teaching job, I was part of a panel proposal for the 2012 American Historical Association meeting.I didn’t know in February 2011 – when the proposals were due – whether I would even have a job the following school year. I hoped, at the time, that having this as a forthcoming talk would look good to a prospective employer.

Almost a year later, I flew to Chicago for a quick weekend, making sure I didn’t miss any teaching obligations. I hung out with old friends and enjoyed conference sessions on my terms. I hit up the Art Institute in Chicago (and had an unfortunate run-in with a light pole while walking down the street). That Sunday morning, our panel convened in the final hours of the conference in front of a small audience of people. (The panel focused the military’s experiences of integrating women and minorities as a way to manage the end of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.)
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The History of Us All

 

eleanor_roosevelt_at_united_nations“I became more of a feminist than I ever imagined.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

The more I learn about Eleanor Roosevelt, the more I like her. I also like to think we could have been BFFs, but I think that’s how it goes with heroes. Like good old ER, I haven’t always identified as a feminist, nor have I always been a women’s historian, but today those are two integral parts of my identity. For people who think like me in those regards, every month may be Women’s History Month, but March is the designated month of observation. I suspect that I know more than a few people who probably wonder “Why do we need Women’s History Month?” I still tend to think, “Why not?”

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