Fueled by a desire to become a teacher, Loren Mayshark entered Hunter College in 2008, with the intention of gaining a master's degree in two years. Six years and tens of thousands of dollars later, he abandoned his studies without attaining the deg...
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4/2/14
Today I met with the history department secretary, Joseph Stone, a kindly, balding man with thick glasses and the look of a career librarian, to talk about the steps I must take to finish my thesis. When I asked him how he was doing, he replied that he was exhausted and felt a little worn down. He mentioned that most professors would go on break while he would remain at Hunter during the summer. I told him that Hunter should give him a well-deserved tropical vacation and he replied that he had gone on a cruise three weeks ago, but "This place has a way of draining people . . . now it almost feels as if I have never left." I smiled and told him that I had an understanding of where he was coming from and that I don't get why everyone is so serious, and he replied, "It is as if they want everyone to be miserable here." When I discussed my path toward graduation with him he told me that it seemed as if I was on the right track and that he appreciated how proactive I had been in making sure I had handled every administrative aspect of my degree. I replied that I have learned through past administrative difficulties that I must do everything I can, dot every i and cross every t, or else I would be in a world of trouble. I told him that I was willing to do whatever it took to finish. After we met I went back to the Hunter library and continued working on journal articles for the NYU conference in the field that I was in town for.
During this visit to New York I had a meeting set up with Professor Rosencrass. We walked upstairs to an empty classroom and began to discuss the paper. We both seemed content to move past pleasantries and get down to business. He said that my first chapter was getting into "reasonable shape" and that it would not need many more revisions. Although I had already revised the chapter eight times, he was still finding numerous faults. Each time he would zero in on a point and then speak about it with venom, reminiscent of how one would react if they were just insulted. When I would try to explain he would often talk over me until I acquiesced. Before I could say anything he would then change to another aspect of the paper and ask me a pointed question about it. At each juncture I was still fuming because I hadn't gotten to express my previous point, so I would blurt something, which was often admittedly baldly defensive and curt. Consequently, my comments were often obtuse and did not effectively express my understanding of whatever we were talking about. He would then launch into me about the wrongness of my retort. We would continue to have similar exchanges throughout the course of our relationship.
I would inevitably revert to a familiar default mode, which was well practiced with my ex-girlfriend Nora, of withdrawing from the situation, assuming that I would never get my point of across, so I might as well quit while I am behind. I essentially began to stonewall him. I quickly realized that this approach would not help my cause and I reconsidered. I took a deep breath and became very agreeable and tried to be as receptive as possible to his advice, although I did not completely understand all of his feedback. It appeared futile for me to try to explain myself. I mostly nodded and replied with what I thought he would want to hear. This is how most of our meetings proceeded.
When I began to allude to the fact that doing so many drafts and still being on chapter one seemed like an incredibly slow pace, he told me that MA theses can take two and in some cases three years. He then reiterated that it is not an easy process. When I told him of the progress that I had made on chapters two and three, he said that after having a brief discussion on submission schedule over the summer, it could be feasible to finish in the fall semester. He then said that he would like me to find a third reader for my thesis. I was initially upset by this, especially since it was so late in the process, but was careful not to betray my poker face.
I could not believe that at this point in the process he was requesting a third reader for the thesis. Rodriguez had not read a word yet! This was not Rosencrass's field of expertise but he had already forced me to change my outline and had consistently found fault with my content without seeing the full product or having the requisite background to do so. Now he was asking me to find a third reader. Like everything at Hunter, there were unforeseen ways that they were making the process more grueling and my ability to finish in a reasonable amount of time less possible. I could not believe what I was hearing.
When I started to question this he cut the meeting short by saying that he had to meet a former student for a dinner appointment. I begrudgingly thanked him for his time and we descended the stairs together making somewhat awkward small talk. When we reached the fancy lobby of the Roosevelt House there was an attractive young woman standing there. He introduced us and I noticed that she had some sort of Eastern European accent. He said that Annabel had spent some time showing his daughter around Paris when his daughter had been studying abroad there. He said that she was a former student of his and he told her that I was currently working on an MA thesis with him. He joked that I was probably ready to rip his head off now, after he had painstakingly corrected my work. I didn't expect him to be so candid and found myself momentarily lost for words. As the silence between us became more palpable I felt that I needed to say something and I smiled, looked into Annabel's eyes, and said, "He is meticulous." She quickly replied, "He's horrendous!" I was struck by her words, but I didn't want to linger. I told them that I didn't want to hold them any longer. As I left Professor Rosencrass said, "Take it easy, Loren," and I replied that I would not—I'd be working hard.
