A Carnival and a Question
As Ralph notes below (scooped again, damn!), Another Damned Medievalist has Carnivalesque XI up, and it's a veritable festival of Western Civilization! Not much of the rest of the world, though. That's not a criticism of the carnival or its Mistresses: I went looking for things to submit and came up pretty dry, as well. It's just that there's not, as near as I can tell, a lot of ancient/medieval blogging (in English) outside of the traditional Western regions.
I was meeting with my Historiography students last week, in a slightly informal session (it's late in the semester and we've had a break in the rain, so we were meeting outdoors) and one of them, deep in the throes of pre-registration, asked me
If you're not going on to grad school, why do a thesis?
I stumbled around for a good answer, but didn't come up with much. I talked about how well-prepared these students are for this project, how satisfying it is to reach that level of expertise and to delve into real discovery, how interesting some of their proposals and some of our previous theses have been. But basically it boils down to the very intangible value of personal satisfaction in highly abstruse achievement. I feel like I missed something, but thinking about it off and on for a few days (in between justifying my professional existence; more on that later) I can't think of what it might be. So I throw it out there: The AHA recommends a capstone research course, our accrediting agency seems to think it's a great thing, it seems like a good idea to me (though I didn't do an undergraduate thesis, myself), it's required by the department (or a major history-related service project, as an alternative, though there's only been one taker so far). But why? What do you tell students who ask you that question?