That heathen school up north

Got a letter in the mail the other day, telling me that this fall I’ll be trading in my blue T-shirts for red ones. University of Utah here I come!

In truth, I don’t know whether to be thrilled or wary about the whole thing. For all I know, being accepted into the American Studies masters program at the U may be akin to getting into those Who’s Who books—anyone who forks over the cash gets in. But U.S. News lists Utah’s graduate school as “more selective” (though this is probably skewed by the medical program). They do have a renowned creative writing program, as well as two specialties that sound appealing, if not practical: Western American studies and environmental humanities. If I were to be completely foolish, I’d just go the environmental route, spend a few deliriously happy years reading Thoreau and Edward Abbey and Annie Dillard, and come away with a diploma worth no more than the paper its printed on.

Not that an American studies MA is worth much more; believe me, I’ve thought this through. I majored in English for my bachelor’s, for pity’s sake. For four years, I periodically woke up in a cold sweat, panicked at the prospect of not being able to feed a family when school was done. I suspect that's why I forced myself to get a business minor, to delude myself and others into thinking I was marketable. And indeed, I got hired as the sales manager. Of a publishing house in Boston. What the heck was that all about? At any rate, I liked the job so much I booked it outta there after one glorious month. (I think I sold about 15 books, so the folks at Godine weren't exactly despondent about my departure either.)

Where did my English degree ultimately take me? Against all odds, it landed me the best job on the planet, editing for the Joseph Smith Papers. Every day my job is challenging and meaningful, my family is fed and clothed with a little to spare even, and most important, I’m excited to tell Michelle all about my day at work. What more could I ask for? And now my employer offers to pay the majority of graduate school costs if it will improve my job skills. So I go the American studies route, learn how to put Joseph Smith in his historical American context, hone my writing and editing skills, and increase my abilities to think. Okay, and dabble a little in environmental writing—surely I have something meaningful to say about Southern Utah. Doubtless I’m trying too hard to justify what will be a hard and at best ambiguous experience, but it just seems like the right thing to do.

And besides, how I can deny myself the honor of joining the Ute faithful?