As the New Kid confronts the spectre of the academic Impostor Syndrome in a new venue, I am finding it in a venue all too familiar: right here in my home department.

I mentioned on Friday that I was excited to join the first meeting of the year of the Faculty Research Group (FRG) a diverse workshop of fellow faculty from across career points and specializations. The first two papers were submitted by our two named chairs, and aside from an occasional proofing comment, i had virtually nothing of value to say, something that is not like me, and moreover, something that was not true of the other participants in the group. As I remarked afterwards to one of the workshoppers, I felt more like a precocious grad student allowed to see how the big kids play than a colleague of the big kids.

Yeah, you know Impostor Syndrome--the one where no matter how much research you do, how much thinking you do, how much prose you generate, that eventually, someone will discover that you are a total fraud, and kick you out of where you are immediately. Since you have no other job skills, you will likely have to pump gas somewhere, living in constant fear that you aren't really even qualified to do that, since working with your hands was never something you were terribly good at.

Occasionally, though, just occasionally, you get an instant reprieve. Today I got an email from someone putting together a panel for the Comparative Drama Conference. She had read my most recent article in Modern Drama {link to subscription-only Project MUSE, and my article is in an earlier volume than is catalogued there), and wanted to invite me to give a paper on the panel.

A Reprieve! A reprieve!