A little over a year ago, I was walking with a classmate of mine enjoying the quiet evening. Registration for the next semester of classes had just started, and she wanted to know what I was taking. I laughed, watching my breath crystallizing in the chilled New England air.
“Well, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’m overloading on classes… in addition to teaching.”

She laughed in response, turning to face me.
“Why am I not surprised? You are the busiest person I know! What are you taking then?”

“I really want to take a World War I literature course…I’m branching out! and it’ll help me with my MFA Thesis!”

My friend shook her head, smiling, knowing there was nothing anyone could do to stop me.

Branching out of your immediate specialization in writing is something I briefly mentioned in previous posts. This is not a hard and fast rule that everyone follows, but it has helped me personally and professionally since undergrad. In my experience, most students in my program were highly encouraged to remain within the limits of the MFA. Stay with what you know, do some workshops, maybe some readings, and graduate without a fuss. Unless you were forced to teach First Year Writing in the Composition department for funding purposes, you were dedicated to your writing and that was all. This idea was shared by one professor who argued I was a writer, and a writer only. He sat in his office staring at my schedule in annoyance, claiming spending my time with anything else but creative nonfiction would be doing myself a disservice. Apparently, a literature class was an abomination. I stared back at him in equal annoyance. His statement was in fact, a confusing one, for I had just graduated from a liberal arts college where you weren’t just encouraged in breaking out of your immediate academic interests but required to widen your horizons. With that, I left his office and proceeded with my own moral philosophy.

By the end of my MFA I had taken two graduate literature classes, taught in the composition department, worked in the University Writing Center, and worked as a grant editor for the Research and Large Development office. Granted, this indeed did not make me the most popular of MFA students, but I was the most well rounded. Connections are important in graduate school and includes the people and experiences outside of your silo. Taking different classes and working with the written word in a myriad of different ways made me a better writer, person, and academic. It is vital in my eyes to take all opportunities presented to you, especially in this day and age of a cutthroat job market. Academia, if that is the path you choose, requires multiple skillsets in addition to the attention you give to your specialization. This is especially true if you are wanting to apply for your PhD in Creative Writing, (yes, it is a thing these days.) An MFA with a simple CV is just not going to be enough to land you your dream job. The answer to this predicament for me, was to extend my experiences outside of what was expected, which was one way I stood out from the pack. Was I overwhelmed by the workload at times? Yes. Did I sacrifice my social status in the program? Probably. Was I stretched paper thin by stress in certain times of the semester? Absolutely, but I also knew it was going to pay off in the long run. composition, literature, and creative writing are all housed under the Humanities for a reason, they all hold the written word in high regard, but choose to utilize and analyze it in different ways. All are valuable, and all should be experienced if possible. That is the ideal.

Until Next Time,

Lena N. Gemmer