Historians are academics that don’t play well with others.

This morning I’m rushing around feeling inferior because, well, it’s a school day, when I realize that I have a whole two minutes to spare. Well! I could read the paper. Yes, that is a good idea. After I claw through the ZOMG ARCHBISHOP DOLAN DON’T LEAVE NOES!!! articles and giggle a little bit because our priest shows up in the background of like every single picture of him and that makes me laugh for some reason, I come across a lovely article about yet another way UWM is interested in screwing their students over.

Because apparently it’s not enough to cut staff, cut class offerings, raise tuition, crash the e-mail server (No one uses e-mail, right? I mean, hardly ever.), and have like two parking spaces. No, it gets better. See, if you manage to stick it out at this sucking black hole of death for the requisite number of years/suicide attempts to get a doctorate, you get to go to graduation to receive said PhD.

Then you have the privilege of renting the gown and hood for over $300, or buying it for almost $800. So if you’d like to keep this hood that for some people *cough*me*cough* means more than food, water, sex, or children, you have to buy it. For $800.


And it’s not even an attractive gown. Emily said it looked like a bumblebee, and yes, it totally does. A bumblebee that will be paying student loans until they die.

At least Marquette’s is reasonable priced. I would not want to do that twice.

Meanwhile, my methods professor is the head of the graduate department in history and told us yesterday that this year the number of applicants had more than doubled, from about 35 to 70. Okay. Objectively, I’m usually pretty high up there in terms of academics when you put me in a group of 35. 70? NOTSOMUCH.

So now I probably won’t even get the opportunity to purchase my ridiculous-looking and unbelievably expensive hood.



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