The Fellowship

In 1891, a woman named Alice Alvira Stevens graduated from Wellesley College and, at her death,  established a fellowship in her will for future alumnae to travel.  She did so in honor of her aunt, Mary Elvira Stevens.  Her will states that "preference shall be given to persons with good temper and a natural generosity of view when confronted with alien conditions, common sense in observing ad comprehending social, economic, and political situations, a strong desire to travel, and a deep love of beauty."  It also expresses the expectation that the fellowship will provide for "well-balanced young women who may or may not teach, write, or lecture, but who in any event will live in a spirit of knowledge and understanding that will assure a reasonable degree of wisdom."

As a recipient of this fellowship for the year 2014-2015, there are a number of things that move me deeply and make me profoundly grateful for this opportunity.  Other than the quotes above, no one currently knows anything about either Alice or Mary Stevens, but the establishment of this fellowship seems to indicate a close relationship.  Surely Mary must have embodied the qualities set forth in Alice's will, and clearly Alice cherished and admired these qualities enough to want to foster them in women for many generations to come.  As someone who loves her own nieces dearly and hopes to be a good role model for them, I feel a kind of kinship (even if it is in my own over-active imagination) with these ladies and wonder all sorts of things.  Did Mary love to travel?  Was she a teacher and/or writer?  Did she and Alice travel together?  What places did they go?  What adventures did they have? 

Though no one can answer these questions (or explain why "Elvira" morphed into "Alvira"), I am amazed by the generosity of this gift, coming to me through the decades and enabling me to turn a dream into a reality.  My 'dream' is rather small potatoes compared to what some recipients have proposed in the past (many of them traveling for nearly a year over a few different continents), and I had some serious freakout moments both prior to applying and after I had submitted my application that I wasn't proposing the "right" thing or dreaming "big enough."  The specter of perfectionism haunted me even in this realm, whispering in my ear that I was wasting a golden opportunity. 

But the reality is that at this point in my life and the circumstances I am currently living in (a house in need of a great deal of attention that can't be put off, and a 2-month period between the end of one school year and the start of another), I proposed a trip that works for me right now.  It might not be the optimal way to make use of this fellowship in a larger, theoretical sense, but I am not living in a theoretical sense.  And this is what I could think of and get excited about and see use for.

My proposal is to go to Denmark and Scotland to visit the sites that either inspired or are referenced in Shakespeare's Hamlet and Macbeth, as well as to explore the culture/world of the medieval source material for both works.  I will be departing June 16 for about a month, and I'll be sharing my experiences via this blog, gathering materials to share with my future students, and hopefully laying the groundwork for a novel.  That last bit almost kept me from applying for the fellowship.  What if I decide not to write the novel?  What if I want to write  series of short stories or poems instead?  What if I have a massive attack of writer's block and can't come up with anything at all?

As if she could read my thoughts, the chair of the committee said something to me at the end her phone call informing me that I had won the fellowship that made me hang up and cry (right after I jumped around shrieking with joy).  She said that while they'd love to read my novel if I did end up writing it and it would be fun to follow me on my blog, there was no obligation to do any of that.  Then she said, "Take the money and have a wonderful trip!"

In other words, I don't have to keep earning it.  There are no strings attached.  Receiving such a freely given gift made me realize just how rare such an occurrence is.  It also made me want to do even more.  Ironic, perhaps, that total freedom creates such a deep feeling of responsibility, but far from being restrictive or oppressive, this responsibility is a joyful one and one I am honored to have.  I only hope I honor the women who made this possible in the process.

There already is a slight deviation from my original proposal.  My nieces are visiting family friends in Germany and France, and I'm going to meet up with them in Paris for a couple of days in the middle of my trip.  I like to think Mary and Alice would approve.