Interview With Darwin

(An Influential Person)

I know that ritual is important to humans. Individuals have them, to create their sense of self. Individuals participate in group rituals to extend that sense of self into a sense of community. Sure, I get it.

But there are still lots of rituals I can’t stand - the bar scene, marriage, dressing to the current fashion - and so opt out whenever possible. There is one I hate with a passion, however, and I can’t escape it: the new-class introduction.

Every course in the public relations program begins with this ritual. The standard questions: What’s your name? Where are you from? What’s your educational background? And the one I dread, in all its hideous permutations: Why are you in public relations? Inevitably, this question makes a liar out of me.

My path to public relations begins with me sitting in Dr. Barkow’s tiny office, sweating uncontrollably. I power-walked all the way here, and was still a few minutes late. Now I am sitting, but my body has gone into overdrive and I can’t stop it. My corpulent professor is staring at me from across his desk. The room is cramped, and I find myself staring at school photographs of his ugly children. I try to distract my eyes with the line of a creeping plant that has grown around the perimeter of the room.

“So, have you thought about what you want to do when you’re done your B.A.?” He is sitting back in his chair, his hands folded over the head of his hand-carved cane. He is the archetype of “professor” and takes great pleasure in pointing out how similar he looks to Darwin. His diabetes makes him drowsy in the afternoon, and his cloudy, pale blue eyes are heavily hooded. He looks as though just asking the question has nearly exhausted him.

“Ahhhh, no.” I reply weakly. I have had a great respect for this man since taking Food and Culture in my second year at university. That class was the catalyst for me switching degree programs, from journalism to social anthropology. Over the past two years, I have taken several other courses taught by him, enjoying his comfortable cynicism and staunchly non-Marxist ideology. Sitting alone with him now, for the first time, I can feel the weight of his attention. It is nearly crushing.

He nods, as if he is expecting this. Or, perhaps, he is drowsing a little. Suddenly, he leans forward. “You know, you have to have a really great GPA to get into the Masters program here. It’s not easy.” He looks down on me, more with his voice than with his stature.

“I was thinking about going back to journalism, doing the eight-month program at King’s,” I venture. His eyes make me feel like I am stepping onto thin ice.

“Journalism?” I cannot tell if it is a grunt or a laugh. He releases one chubby hand from the top of his cane and scratches around in his white beard, looking thoughtfully over my shoulder.

“How will you get a job in journalism? It’s an over-crowded market.” He speaks as though he is an authority on the subject. I can imagine him at home with his wife, looking over her shoulder as she completes the same chores she has been doing for the past thirty years, him telling her everything she is doing wrong. Perhaps it’s his striking resemblance to Darwin, perhaps it is the cane, but he seems to exude a sense of authority no matter where he is, or what he does. People defer to him automatically.

I scramble. I hope he can’t see it, as I try to mask it with cocky confidence. “I’m confident I will stand out in the crowd.”

He closes his eyes as he juts out his chin non-committedly. Always shrewd, he will neither confirm nor deny.

I leave the office feeling deflated. A person I respect and look up to has just insinuated that I am not good enough for my top two job options. And that is, truly, how I ended up in P.R. and not journalism or social anthropology. Of course, I can never say that in class. So, in order to be a good little ritual participant, I just have to lie.

Whew.

It feels really good to clear the air.


Author’s note: Looking back on this episode now, I am actually pretty sure he was trying to recruit me to the Graduate program. But my own self-doubt led me to interpret his words in this way. Perhaps I will look into that program after all...