Travels With Amber Haydar

The thesis is a long journey that each scholar takes through pages of research and mazes of thought. The process of creation is a dappled experience where far flung thoughts and emotions tumble to conclusions on the page. At times, you could combust the thesis with your eyes, but at others are warm with awe of new insight or synthesis. Of course, coffee is needed to chug a’ lug through to the finish...to the moment when you look out at the responsive gaze of people in your karass, and you begin to teach. Hours of work are now gifted to the current of ideas. Today I got to see two amazing people, whom I care for and admire deeply, give there thesis presentations for Honors. Amber Haydar and Patrick Russell were my teachers today. In this post, I am going to highlight Amber’s presentation and her startling ability to spark enthusiasm in others about the good things in life- friends, food, travel, and books. I promised Patrick that I would read his thesis over Christmas break, and I will pass that rich plate of knowledge to you soon. (Heidegger, Hogs, and Earth’s Community!)

Amber Haydar: Where Am I? Being an Account of One Student’s Experience in Culture Shock, Journeying Across the Pond to Visit Four Countries in Two Summers

Amber wrote a travel memoir of her two study abroad trips, one being to Paris and the other to the British aisles. She divided her thesis into seven sections. Six of them focused on different aspects of the trip including food, books, theater, cuisine, signs, and transportation. She followed a traditional model in which she started with snippet into her own life, often a personal anecdote, and then delved into a comparison of her two trips, concluding with how this journey had expanded, brought fresh life to her experience. Amber then read a portion of her experience with books. She informs her audience that she learned how to read when she was three, and it has been her passion ever since. When she was in Paris she learned the joy of a historical book store when she visited Shakespeare and Company. Throughout many visits she bought several books- and when she read in the beautiful city, she found a heightened sense of the “people and animals” in this place. In England, she discovered the wonder of antiquarian book stores and collections, and Amber channeled excitement (I was on this trip with her, and was happy to share it) -Ah the smell of books! When she found a first edition of Oliver Twist (over 11,000 pounds) her hands shook for fear of dropping the book. These experiences added to her dream of library, a room that is essential for her nesting and settling into a home, where a book (never a kindle!) is always on hand for a new experience.

In the last segment of her thesis, she reveals the kairotic moment from her visit to the Lake Isle of Innisfree, the location of one of her favorite poems by William Butler Yeats. Here, as Clint read the poem and she looked over the lake to the small isle, so much meaning collided in her life. The experience gave impetus for to her decisions about the meaningful work she will find as a scholar and teacher, but most importantly as a lover of literature. Amber began tearing up as she explained why she needed to share traveling, literature, and her sense of wonder as a professor. Amber will be going to graduate school to train for next fall and plans to become a scholar of 19th Century Literature. I look forward to both visiting her library and having her books in my own. In honor of Amber, here is The Lake Isle of Innisfree by Yeats:

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.