I’ve learned many things in the last few years. Chief among them: an eighty-mile commute is way too long.
I stuck it out for two years, though, because a full-time lectureship straight out of grad school — especially one in which I got to teach essentially whatever I wanted for half of the year — was way too good to pass up. And I am extremely glad that I took the job, because a) I love teaching, and b) I learned so much about teaching, oh my god. Nothing like suddenly managing a four/four to make you rapidly figure out what works and what really doesn’t in the classroom.
I will not be in the classroom this fall. I could have stayed at my eighty-miles-away job, but I do think I may have actually died if I tried to do that another year. (Moving closer was not an option for wife* employment reasons, and also for I-love-Philly-so-I-don’t-wanna reasons.) I did apply to a bunch of closer positions, but, as you may be aware, higher ed is, uh, going through it right now. And by it, I mean overt fascistic destruction. The already dismal job market for early career humanities academics is now — by hostile design — laughably bleak.
In other words, I did not get a job.
But … I’ve been turning over some ideas in my head for the past few years. As you may recall, my dissertation project involved creating and participating in an online book club for high school students in which we discussed YA lit, monsters, and politics. It was an incredible experience for me, and based on the feedback I got from the participants, a lot of them found it really valuable, too. I loved being able to create a space for young people to develop and share their literary and political ideas outside of the stresses of graded school assignments. Opportunities to practice critical thinking with peers with a subject that is fun and engaging is super important for young people (and, I mean, for everyone).
I want to make more of these spaces — and, now that I have more teaching experience, I realized I can add on some additional mentorship services. Students could use the themes of the book club to develop independent academic, creative, and/or activist projects, and I could work closely with them as they brought their idea to life. Writing, editing, communicating with local community partners, speaking, staging — I can help with all of these things. Students can have all the benefits of a book club, plus a project that they’ve seen through from conception to completion — and a unique achievement that would look pretty good on a college or job application.
Long story short, I think I’m starting a business?
I am still in the extremely early stages of figuring this out. I don’t know if I ultimately will work within a school system or some other organization, or if I will market this service directly to students and their families. The latter would be faster and probably easier to establish … but it would also probably be more expensive, and I feel super strongly that the services I provide should be accessible to as many people as possible. On the other hand, see above, re: no other job. So how do I make this sustainable for myself without catering only to wealthy families?
Enter that famously sustainable (sarcasmsarcasmsarcasm) model of making money: YouTube.
Look, I have a bachelor’s in creative writing and a PhD in Childhood Studies. My passions are fiction writing and teaching. I have not been blessed to fall in love with lucrative endeavors. I know that “video essayist” is also a long shot in a lot of ways. But while I send out millions of emails as I try to learn how to make the book club/mentorship biz viable, I can also start to build an online presence. At the very least, I can create a way of making myself a known quantity and advertising my services once I’m ready. With a little more luck, I may be able to use this platform for fundraising and even perhaps some income from the videos themselves, which could lower prices for future students.
Plus, as it turns out, making video essays about monsters and childhood is ridiculously fun! I love public scholarship, and due to the attacks on education this country is currently undergoing, I also think it’s really important.
So there you have it: the origins of The Monster & The Child. YouTuber/book club leader/one-on-one mentor(/novelist) sounds like such a good career path for me: work that I love, that is valuable, and that I’m good at, if-I-do-say-so-myself. Jury’s still out on whether any of it will ever pay me in actual dollars, but I am as driven and enthusiastic as I am terrified, so if it doesn’t, I at least know it won’t be for lack of trying!
If you are reading this, you probably already have subscribed to the new baby channel and watched my videos, but if on the off-chance you have not, it’s legit the most helpful thing you can do right now. (I mean, unless you know of any people with experience or expertise in any of the stuff I talked about above, in which case please send them my way!) Here’s where I will be updating every other Sunday with how monsters help us understand social constructions of childhood, and vice versa: The Monster & The Child. I’ve already talked about Godzilla, The Exorcist, Greek mythology, Christian mythology, The Ring, The Shining, and QAnon — and that’s just in two video essays!
New ventures definitely are scary, but they’re also pretty exciting. I hope I’ll have plenty of cool updates on this to come for an ever-growing community of monsters.
*not technically my wife yet, but it’s so fun to sayyyy
