Spouses ist verboten

On Friday night, my wife and I went to an awards dinner for a graduate student teaching award I received. When I first got the invitation, I thought it was only inviting me, not my wife. However, when I was conversing with some friends on the day of the event, they told me that recipients in previous years could bring a "guest"--some people have even brought dissertation advisors. Well, I pulled out my invitation, used my Derrida close reading skills to decide that the text was indeterminate, and called the respective authorities to find out an hour before the event whether I could bring my wife; after all, according to the invitation, it was a "reception," not a "dinner," which suggested a greater degree of informality. The staff member said it was fine, so off we went.

Once we got there, however, we discovered that all the tables had name place cards, and though there was a card for mr. retain personal anonymity person, there wasn't one for ms. retain husband's personal anonymity person. Since I thought it would be impolite to make my wife stand the whole time and was not confident in my own abilities to hold a plate and a glass in the same hand for an hour, I told the happy smiley greety woman of our plight. "Who told you that you could bring your wife?" the happy smiley greety woman said, her smile suddenly betraying some rather menacing big pointy teeth. "Um, a person who works at your office and I thought was trustworthy?" I said, apparently delinquent in the level of scrutiny requisite for confirming a dinner engagement. "I talked to the person today," I added. I decided it might not be beneficial to mention that the conversation took place just an hour ago, but instead to imply that it took place in a distant, sacred primordial past.

"You're not supposed to. We allowed one exception because he is an international student," she said testily. (Thanks a lot, U.S. citizenship! first you get me in trouble in Canada, and now this!) "Well ... I suppose you can sit at that table over there," she finally conceded, pointing in the distance to what appeared to be a desolate land cut off from the fecund Eden-like abundance that overflowed the other tables.

It is rather curious to be at an awards ceremony at which you are seated at the "rejects" table. Do the "outstanding graduate student" and the "stupid graduate student" designations cancel each other out, so you are just plain a normal graduate student? Are you sort of like the character Ignorance in Pilgrim's Progress, who is thrown into hell at the very gates of heaven? What's it all mean? Anyway, there are some decided disadvantages in sitting at the "Misfits" table. For one thing, there is no one else in your department (unless, in this case, you were lucky enough to be in Economics). Also, when they announce, "We will begin with table 10 and go down," you will eventually realize that, since you are the "Rejects" table, you do not have a table number, which presumably means you aren't supposed to eat. (However, since we were already naughty enough to break the rules by bringing a spouse, we decided to break the rules and eat as well.)

There are, however, benefits of sitting at the "Misfits" table. For one thing, it creates a kind of solidarity: yes, we might be from other departments, but we have all gratuitously misbehaved. It was sort of like Breakfast Club for grad school. And the very fact that we were a motley assortment prevented the conversation from becoming too specialized: I mean, sure, the economics guy couldn't help talking about economics, but he referred to the economic number-crunching in Gulliver's Travels in order to assuage my eighteenth-century literature sensibilities. We got to hear more about how other departments functioned--for instance, when the surprized music department student inquired, "It takes you six years to get your degree?" we were able to explain that this was not because we were stupid, and we learned that the music department functions rather differently (if I rightly understand, rather than writing a thesis, they perform a piece of music). And the best part of all was that I could be at an awards reception with the woman I loved rather than merely with colleagues or strangers. (As it turns out, my wife and I were the only people from the English department to stay for the reception, so I really would have just been dining with strangers.)

Anyway, it did make me reflect a little bit on the dinner set-up. I learned that, in years past, they did allow you to bring a guest; this year, they wanted to have the food of better quality, and a consequence is that they could invite only the recipients, not a guest. (Of course, their invitation letter does not tell you that you cannot bring a guest.) Much as I appreciate having better food, I don't think it's worth having to eat it alone. I realize many people aren't married, and having a big meal might be one of the most essential parts of the evening. (Before I was married, one of the features I most enjoyed about departmental talks is that the reception enabled me to indulge in a free dinner, made up of several sizable cookies, cheese, and crackers. Having a free dinner that included more than just the standard cookie fare might have been preferable to being able to invite a guest.) Nevertheless, I think it is more meaningful to be able to share the experience/honor with someone you care about. When I've had papers to correct or had class preparations to make, I have had to give up spending time with my wife (meaning that she has had to sacrifice that time, as well); it seems counterintuitive that an "award" for these sacrifices will likewise necessitate that I give up spending time with my wife, at a fancy dinner to which she is not invited, and on a Friday night, no less.