It’s official now. I’ve been accepted into a graduate programme in history.
It’s not where I’d ever thought to go, somewhere in the middle of the middle of the middle of the USA. It’s a mid-sized university in central Minnesota. The state tends to be liberal, though in the past decade it has grown somewhat more conservative. The specific part of Minnesota is quite conservative, an area populated primarily by the descendents of sensible Lutherans from Germany and the Nordic countries with relatively little diversity. The city, St Cloud, is quite safe and life is quiet. The people are welcoming but a bit staid, sobriety and orderliness are requirements in order to get on well with the population.
The university itself receives a satisfaction rate of over 90 pc, is fully accredited, and is cheaper than a comparable university in California. The cost of living is also significantly lower. I accepted the offer, naturally. Though the course selection is somewhat limited, it’s adequate.
This is a bit of luck, or at least it seems to be. The promise of a change of life, a change of settings which was desperately needed. San Francisco, a disappointing city in which to live, has grown ever less acceptable. Getting assaulted by another student in class, getting harried by an obsessed fan, getting clawed on a bus, losing thousands of dollars in fraud, having to run from hoboes begging for money, having to try to avoid the wrath of a drug-addicted drag queen whose affections I spurned have all been a bit too much to live with.
A life, a quiet life, along the shores of the great Mississippi in a region famed for its dullness, its blandness, its decency is something I very much look forward to.