Sunday, July 17, 2011

Pavlov's Grad Student

     For the past few years, I have often coupled graduate reading, writing, grading, and editing with various forms of tea.  This habit comes from several influences: Tea is generally cheaper in the coffee shops I have frequented in the past, it is a favorite drink of Geoffrey's, and is therefore around the house all the time,  and of course, it allows me to take in massive amounts of caffeine without offending my students, colleagues and professors with hair curling coffee breath.
     Since spring semester ended, and I am no longer a student or indentured grading machine (a.k.a. teaching assistant) my tea consumption has considerably lessened, and with it, my dependence on caffeine.  Imagine my surprise then, when Geoffrey asks me to read an email addressed to his thesis chair for grammar, punctuation, and professionalism and I find myself dreaming about how good a mug of cardamon tea would be at just that moment.  I could even taste the stuff for god's sake, and despite the 100 degree heat outside, I start to imagine the heat of my desired beverage as comforting.
   Immediately I imagined that my strange craving was a result of my ever lingering caffeine addiction, but this was instantly proven false by my acknowledgement of the still warm mug of coffee sitting in front of me.  No, a physical addiction is not the cause of my craving; my addiction is psychological.  Looking back at the email I was editing, it was not a physical need for chemical stimulants that inspired my desire for a piping hot cup of tea in the middle of July, but Geoffrey's discussion of his attempts to represent Milton's argument and philosophy in his own work that made me want tea.  In that moment, my body resided on my living room couch, but my mind was sitting in our favorite coffee shop discussing "smart things," writing anxieties, and of course, infuriating students and education policies.
     So it seems that if I were in a Pavlovian lab, academic conversations are the bell and mild stimulants are the food for which I salivate. It seems that six years of higher education and hours of study have made me no better than a trained dog.