I am an academic, and I have always made it clear that my ultimate home is in the realm of ideas.
I think of myself as a writer who happens to be doing his writing as an anthropologist.
A university anywhere can aim no higher than to be as British as possible for the sake of the undergraduates, as German as possible for the sake of the public at large-and as confused as possible for the preservation of the whole uneasy balance.
I think if I hadn't become a sociologist, I would have become very anti-intellectual.
I always thought I wasn't cool enough in school, I was in the 'nerd' crew. I actually enjoyed studying.
I'm actually - believe it or not, for an academic - an aural learner.
I was like, 'I'm an academic!' I'm not at all. It turns out I'm not great at that.
I am not an academic who happens to have written a novel. I am a novelist who happens to be quite good academically.
Remembering who I am is a really active task for me. And I often have to tell myself, 'You're a graduate student,' 'You're a daughter,' et cetera, in situations where I'm supposed to behave like one.
Younger anthropologists have the notion that anthropology is too diverse. The number of things done under the name of anthropology is just infinite; you can do anything and call it anthropology.
My academic identity is that of a folklorist, and for many years I have taught only folklore courses.
Your backpack is a part of your identity as a student.
Carl Becker has defined a professor as a man who thinks otherwise; a scholar is a man who otherwise thinks.
I say I'm an academic: a professor of psychiatry at Johns Hopkins. And I write.
