If you make it to your 3L year and have never been to a professor’s house, you have only yourself to blame. Simple oblivion cannot be the reason you missed the boat on this one—there are just too many opportunities. You must have actively chosen not to get on the boat multiple times. If you make it to your 3L year and have never co-hosted a party at a professor’s house, on the other hand, you just don’t know the right professors. When you know how to navigate through the professor’s basement to get to the big freezer for more ice, you know you’ve made it. I was happy to be on ice duty and generally to play sous chef for Florrie Darwin last week—she has been to culinary school in France and really knows what she’s doing. Oh, and her hobbies other than seriously delicious culinary endeavors include teaching in Switzerland, France, and Germany in her spare time. In my spare time I sometimes make Easy Mac, if I’m feeling industrious.
I’ve blogged before about going to a professor’s home for a dinner party, but since I’ve been to two more in the past week, I wanted to write again, simply because they’re so cool. Why is it that we like to see professors’ homes so much? I think we’re probably curious to see how people live, how they decorate, and what they come home to everyday. It’s also a fantastic chance to get to know them and your classmates outside an academic setting. When you get accustomed to life as a grad student, you kind of take apartment living for granted, so going to a house with a yard and more than one story and (gasp) a room devoted solely to eating (ah yes, I remember dining rooms. . .) seems like a novelty and a nice break from the bubble.
I was thinking about what it would be like if I were to turn the tables and try to host one of my professors in my own apartment. It’d be something along the lines of “Would you like a tour? No, no, you don’t have to leave the couch, you can see everything from here. I’ll just point out the areas of interest. There’s the coat closet, that’s exciting. . .” In an attempt to recreate the “appetizers in one room, dinner in another, then retire to the study for dessert” atmosphere, I might have them switch places on the couch with my husband between courses. This could get tricky, considering they will likely be balancing their plates on their knees for my lack of a dining room table. Who knows? Maybe they will think it’s charming that we put hardcover books on the carpet for them to use as “tables” for a wineglass. It could be an adventure. I’ll be sure to post if I decide to invite any profs over. Just don’t judge if my fine crystal stemware looks a lot like Solo cups.
-Erin
