Birdie’s Parting Words

by Birdie Keller ’25

It was the spring semester of my first year, and I had just experienced my first in-person hour of Matt Burgess’s class, Crafts of Writing: Fiction: A History of Narrative. (This was back in deep Covid-times, when the school implemented a week of post-winter break Zoom classes, in a futile attempt to spare us all). There I sat, in the basement of the campus center, reading “The Color Master” by Aimee Bender. I started crying, in part due to the story (I have always been an emotional reader, and Bender’s retelling of the “Donkeyskin” tale is truly touching) and in part because, because for the first time in my life, I realized that I felt academically and creatively at home. I had found a community that cared the same way I did, affirming that stories were worth studying, worth taking seriously.

In the hallowed halls of Old Main 2, coworkers have become best friends for life (shoutout to Chloë and Charley), bagels have been consumed, delirious Instagram reels have been crafted, friends have become roommates (the wonderful Colleen), and endless pages have been written. Here, I have fallen in love with so many things: with writing, with short stories, with heatedly debating books for hours. (Ahlaam and I can confirm that this is in fact what English majors do when left to their own devices). I have never felt as supported as I did in my capstone class this fall. It was a genuine joy to invest myself in my friends’ writing and feel so encouraged in return. The past four years have shown me how special a community like this is, where people invest themselves deeply, seriously, and joyfully in one another, in literature, and in stories.

This type of community doesn’t happen by accident. Aside from staggering skill in their respective fields, the English Department faculty possess incredible care, insight, and intention that they invest in their students; this is a massive part of what makes this department as special as it is. In Penelope Geng and Daylanne English’s classes, I found genuine joy in doing analytic work. Professor Andrea Kaston Tange’s class Ladies and Monsters was such a delight, and I now think about Gabriel Oak and Bathsheba Everdene more than I thought I would.

Aurora Masum Javed is one of the most sincere and kind people I know—anyone would be lucky to take a class with her—and it is a common occurance to see Michael Prior flitting around the department, giving detailed and caring feedback to a student, regardless of whether or not he actually has the time. You would be lucky to be in a class with Peter Bognanni, who seems to have mastered the art of the feedback letter. Matt Burgess and Emma Törzs foster productive and hilarious workshops, and close-knit communities within and without their classes. (“Highlights and lowlights” are now a staple of catching up with some of my friends). There are so many more professors I am grateful for, regardless of whether or not we have had a class together. I have enjoyed elevator conversation, dropped into office hours, and seen friends from other departments be welcomed to the dark side (Intro to Creative Writing) with open arms.

I feel lucky to be doing the work of creative writing, which often demands vulnerability, in a department that has such a strong sense of safety, community, and trust. This is in large part due to the efforts of students and faculty, and also massively thanks to Jan Beebe, the astonishingly kind and wildly competent department coordinator.

Working in the department for four years has given me the privilege of peeking behind the scenes at the immense amount of effort, time, thought, and care that Jan invests in this department, and each individual person within. The level of consideration that goes into everything, from Literary Salons to the End of Year Celebration, is incredible. Jan supports every faculty member and works to ensure every student feels welcomed and celebrated. Most of all, she makes it look easy. I truly admire her so much, and the English Department would be nowhere near as incredible as it is without her.

Now, I would be remiss if I did not take advantage of my departing-senior status to impart some wisdom of my own: Do what you love. Challenge yourself. Be brave. Make the most of this time, but also be kind to yourself. Be kind to others. Take yourself and others seriously, but make sure not to take anything too seriously. Really lean into the opportunities offered here, and remember that no matter what anyone outside of this department (who frankly probably doesn’t know what they’re talking about) says, this work matters. Stories matter, especially right now. Use your voice, and listen to the voices of others. Be critical of what stories you are being told about the world. Imagine, create, be hopeful.

Departing into the world, I will carry with me what I have learned here. The love, the support, the joy, and of course the stories of all kinds. I am so grateful, and I look forward to finding ways to give back in the time to come.

Much love,

Birdie 🙂