Leigh-Michil George

1) How has the pandemic changed your research agenda or writing process, if at all?
Although it can be challenging to find time for research and scholarly writing as a high school English teacher, I’ve been able to continue my research agenda since I have access to digital resources (e.g. ECCO, HathiTrust) through my school’s affiliation with UCLA and its library system. The summer before the pandemic I was fortunate to receive a fellowship through the Huntington Library that provided me with the financial support to pursue archival research in the UK. This means that I have the articles, books, and digital copies of archival material I need to move forward with my research. Also, before the pandemic I had a super commute to UCLA (approx. 3-4 hours every weekday), but since I am now teaching remotely I no longer have that commute which has given me more time to write in the mornings. Typically, I might leave for work around 5:30 am or 6:00 am. Now I can spend an hour (or two!) writing at my desk, the kitchen table, or in my bed, instead of sitting behind the wheel of a car or squeezing into a seat on a bus or a vanpool, making my slow, winding way on the 405 (which turns out to not be the worst--I checked--freeway for LA commuters, but it’s pretty close). Most importantly, in terms of continuing with my research and writing, I (and my family members) have been safe and well through the pandemic.  
 
2) Any recent developments/publications/interests/pets you would like us to publicize?
My book project on sentimental laughter, caricature, and jestbooks in the late Georgian period has pivoted. The book now has a greater focus on Jane Austen’s jokes, found in her novels, letters, and juvenilia. The inspiration for the book is the notorious passage in Persuasion about the “large fat sighings” of Mrs. Musgrove. In fall 2019, I tried to teach Persuasion to ninth graders--it didn’t go the way I intended (though my students did produce some funny spoofs in the spirit of Austen’s own teenage writing “The Beautifull Cassandra”)--but it helped me reassess what I’ve learned about Austen’s fiction over the years. I love the response the novelist gives to James Stanier Clarke in an April 1, 1816 letter: “I could not sit seriously down to write a serious Romance under any other motive than to save my Life, & if it were indispensable for me to keep it up & never relax into laughing at myself or other people, I am sure I should be hung before I had finished the first Chapter. — No — I must keep to my own style & go on in my own Way.” Why is humor so indispensable to Austen’s style? How does laughter function as a source of independence and self-knowledge? These questions are on my mind, as well as many more that explore the relationship between laughter and sensibility. Pivoting the project to Jane Austen has been enjoyable, but it is also daunting. There is a lot of new scholarship I’m catching up on, like Jane Austen and Comedy (2019) edited by Erin Goss, as well as classics, like Marilyn Butler’s Jane Austen and the War of Ideas (1975). Of course, the list of impressive, illuminating books on Jane Austen goes on and on. My hope is to add to that beautiful, exhilarating, contentious (in a good way) conversation.  

3) How can institutions change orientation sessions in 2021 to help new students and faculty acclimate to their new school, college, or university from afar/remotely? 
Since the secondary school I teach at, Geffen Academy, is affiliated with UCLA, I often think about the connections between secondary and post-secondary learning experiences. However, I’m not sure how to best answer this question because of the difference between teaching children vs. adults. I see my students in class via Zoom multiple times each week, and I may also see them at clubs that I advise or during office hours. Additionally, the school has community time events and recreational activities for students. There is a significant amount of time dedicated to community building on a weekly basis. Still, I assume it must be difficult for new students to get their bearings in a remote learning environment. I’m glad that the school provides Educator Liaisons and offers workshops to help new students. However, all these resources are provided via Zoom. And Zoom fatigue is real. 

4) What have you seen as effective in terms of how scholars use social media? In terms of how scholars remain productive in challenging times?
Social media and I don’t know one another very well. It’s been a good couple years since I’ve been on Facebook. And I’ve never managed to make it on to Instagram. But I do check out other scholars’ tweets from time to time, and it often results in me smiling, laughing, going “Ahhh!,'' or becoming sad and indignant about contingency. On another note, I would like to sing the praises of Sarah Kareem and Crystal Lake’s website The Rambling: https://the-rambling.com/. In 2018, I published an essay “How It Feels to Be Colored Me in the Long 18th C” (https://the-rambling.com/2018/10/18/how-it-feels-to-be-colored-me-in-the-long-18th-c/)  and I continue to be grateful for that opportunity. There is great writing on the site for eighteenth-centuryists and everyone else. Here are two essays to check out: “William Hay; Or, An Obsession” (https://the-rambling.com/2019/02/14/valentines-lau/) by Travis Chi Wing Lau and “Outlander: Making Scotland Great Again?” (https://the-rambling.com/2018/07/16/outlander-making-scotland-great-again/) by Angelina Del Balzo. 
  
5) Any advice on prioritizing work objectives, or declining professional requests/ "saying no”?
Just say “No.” “Not gonna do it.” “Nope.” Or an oldie, but a goodie: “Thank you, but I am politely declining…” Ultimately, I’m a big believer in self-care. That is, I am vigilant about my physical, mental, and emotional health. When your health is at stake because you are overcommitted--which has happened to me in the past--you may eventually find the strength and sense to say “No” in order to survive. At least, that has been my journey. Plus, I’ve come to realize that if I prioritize my own wellbeing it makes me so much more effective at supporting others. Along my journey, I’ve been encouraged by the wisdom of women scholars, including a brilliant senior scholar who once advised--what has now become a top ten mantra--“Let It Go” (yes, the phrase is inspired by the Disney movie Frozen, which I still haven’t seen). Additionally, I’ve gained helpful insights from reading a wide range of books, more than I can keep track of, about the challenges of work-life balance. Here are some titles I recommend: The Black Academic’s Guide to Winning Tenure--Without Losing Your Soul by Kerry Ann Rockquemore and Tracey Laszloffy, The Coach’s Guide for Women Professors Who Want a Successful Career and a Well-Balanced Life by Rena Seltzer, Making Work Work for the Highly Sensitive Person by Barrie Jaeger, and The Underachiever’s Manifesto: The Guide to Accomplishing Little and Feeling Great by Ray Bennett. Plus, an all-time favorite (especially as an audiobook) is Drop the Ball: Achieving More By Doing Less by Tiffany Dufu. That book added another mantra to my repertoire: “Delegate with Joy.”
 
6) Any suggestions for what the Women’s Caucus and its members can do to support adjuncts/instructors/junior faculty/independent scholars/K-12 teachers (take your pick)--both as an organization and as individuals?
I’m grateful that I have been supported intellectually, financially, and in so many other ways throughout my academic career, as a graduate student then as a community college professor and now as a high school English teacher. I wouldn’t be part of ASECS or the Women’s Caucus or writing a book about Jane Austen’s jokes if not for the mentors who advised me and encouraged me to finish my dissertation when I felt like giving up when I was anxious during a family crisis and grieving after a miscarriage. I wouldn’t have had the opportunities to present at conferences or travel for research if not for the institutional support I’ve received. All that support has shaped my life in wonderful, positive ways--a life that is drawn to learning more and more about the eighteenth century. And yet, this past summer I thought of stepping away from my identity as an eighteenth-centuryist. I was an exhausted and ashamed black woman. Since May 2020, many articles have been written about black fatigue and exhaustion. However, I have not come across as many articles about the guilt part of the exhaustion--when you feel like you haven’t done enough or spoken up enough, when you feel like you are sustaining, instead of resisting racism, when you feel saddened and angered by the thought that you haven’t made it any better for the “young, gifted, and black” students you want to support. I don’t think of myself as someone who code-switches, and yet this past summer I felt compelled to face the ways I modify my behaviour or stay silent because I am a black body moving in spaces that are predominantly white, including ASECS conferences (There are notable exceptions to this feeling of otherness, like the ASECS 2019 Presidential Workshop “Teaching Race in the Eighteenth Century in the Twenty-First Century Classroom,” co-chaired by Christy Pichichero and Regulus Allen). Much of my life has been spent moving through spaces where a guessing game is going on in the back of my mind. Is this another space where I’ll be told--as I have many times before--that race doesn’t matter? For me, as a black woman, my race and my gender matter and they are intertwined. So, what can the Women’s Caucus do? Could we start an affinity group for women of color? Could there be a White Anti-Racist affinity group? If these are already happening or in the works, please get the word out. ​

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