SCRC: International Scope, Welcoming and Productive Collegiality
I am delighted to be serving as Program Chair this year for the South Central Renaissance Conference; but when I was asked if I might be willing to consider it, I said (with some trepidation), “But you do know I am not based in America, right?” (This was by email and before the conference and so my perhaps give-away accent had not yet been heard.)
This, therefore, perhaps begs the question, how did I, a Lecturer in English Literature at the University of Buckingham (England), come to attend and now be involved with the SCRC? In relation to the US, where I live and work is neither Central, nor South, but assuredly North. This is not Buckingham, FL, which at least would qualify for the Southern part. Of course, I realise that even within the US “the South” is much contested—in fact, every time I teach Flannery O’Connor, I ask my students to draw where they think of as the south. (This often yields often a whole variety of responses). Buckingham, UK lines up roughly with Labrador City, Newfoundland & Labrador, so, very North. Still North America I suppose, but Canada rather than the USA. But despite having neither the “south-ern accent” Tom Petty sang so well about, nor being from the “right” part of the country (or even, for that matter, the right country), I was welcomed in Savannah with open arms, met so many wonderful new people, and had a great time when I first attended the conference this year (2024).
I first found out about the society and the conference through Sean Benson who, after inviting me to come and guest lecture for his Shakespeare class at Mary Hardin Baylor University, fall 2023, suggested I put in an abstract and sent on the CFP. As it turned out, I also knew another committee member too, our (now) President, Susan Dunn-Hensley. My research often takes me over to Wheaton College to work in their archives (primarily at the Marion E. Wade Center) and our paths had crossed there previously, as well as at Shakespeare sessions at Kalamazoo (ICMS).
To reduce further the credentials I had to attend this conference, although I am primarily an early modernist, I also work on C. S. Lewis—specifically, C. S. Lewis and Shakespeare. Lewis was amongst those in the twentieth century decrying the very existence of a Renaissance in England. He didn’t think it had happened. In fact, elsewhere, he talked of “that fabulous monster called ‘the Renaissance’” he hoped to kill off. So in the light of this, perhaps I really did indeed have no claim to any right to attend the SCRC.
But what struck me especially at SCRC this year was the sheer collegiality between scholars of many different levels. I was, in truth, a little dubious after I had seen a really harsh slam-down between a senior and junior scholar at a Spenser session at Kalamazoo previously.
Sarah Waters, Program Chair for Scrc 2025 in St. Louis
Happily though, my feeling of being rather an interloper (at best) quickly melted away. I had previously been to Shakespeare and Renaissance conferences that were welcoming, and where I had presented, but, aside from one at the Globe and a handful of others, they were mostly graduate conferences (things like the International British Graduate Shakespeare Conference), where most participants were roughly at the same level in terms of career, leading to discussions where people were treated as equals (mostly). By no means a given at an academic conference where one upmanship (and worse) can reign unchallenged. And I had heard friends’ horror stories about SAA encounters and people seeking to throw about their academic credentials or weight. But what struck me especially at SCRC this year was the sheer collegiality between scholars of many different levels. I was, in truth, a little dubious after I had seen a really harsh slam-down between a senior and junior scholar at a Spenser session at Kalamazoo previously. SCRC struck me, however, almost immediately I arrived, as a group of people gathered (some the same some different each year) genuinely invested in one another and in talking enthusiastically and encouragingly to one another about their work and—embodying the very idea (too often lost sight of) that criticism is indeed a conversation.
A conference which welcomes in (beyond just rhetoric) undergraduates through to emeritus professors is no mean feat, and it was lovely to see some of the mentoring and encouraging conversations going on (and to be a part of those both as a giver and receiver too). For me, so much of what makes a great conference are those times in between sessions: chatting over coffee and getting excited about one another’s papers, talking about our different projects and teaching responsibilities, sharing thoughts from papers others had missed.
On the Saturday morning for instance, as we fought over the last of the non-decaf coffee (with swords and decorum, of course), in quick succession I spoke with past Presidents of the society, current graduate students about their early stages of research, undergraduates helping out with the conference who wanted reading suggestions, senior scholars with more thoughts on their papers or my own. Contacts were exchanged and talk of future conversations to be had were suggested—before we all, finally, pulled away to attend the last few panels of the conference.
There was a great diversity in subject matter too at the conference as, I suppose, the Renaissance invites. From mentions of Six: The Musical and popular perceptions of Anne Boleyn to George Chapman’s fragmented Iliads (yes, plural); from the reciprocal effects of suicide in Shakespeare’s tragedies like Romeo and Juliet to Hamlet’s exploration of the memento mori tradition. And then all the papers I couldn’t splice myself in two or three pieces to catch along the way too. Oh, for Hermione’s Time Turner. It was fantastic to see papers being presented by people at each career stage, undergraduates sharing particular areas of interest, graduate students at different stages of their programs, early career academics, fully-fledged professors, and retired or emeritus professors still producing vast swathes of papers.
So I might not be Southern (even by British standards, I grew up in the East of England in a small city called Ely and now live in the centre part of the country, in a tiny little village called Gawcott, just outside Buckingham) or “Central” (by American standards), but I am definitely a Renaissance scholar (my PhD was in early modern studies and medical humanities with a particular emphasis on Shakespeare). Moreover, I am glad that the handshakes of welcome at SCRC extend beyond the South (wherever that is) and the Center, to me, and I am very excited to be this year’s program chair for SCRC and maybe, this year, I might even win a Queen Elizabeth I duck at the auction too.
And finally, and perhaps most notably, though I did get to have grits while I was in Savannah—with thanks to Holiday Inn Express on the flip side of town (and banana pudding ice cream)—“Old Sweet Savannah,” with thanks to a great hidden gelato place down by the river near the huge cargo-boats to ogle at), I was mostly disappointed to find that, down by the waterfront, True Grits is in fact a tourist shop with t-shirts and trinkets, and not a bowl of grits in sight. I hope to meet many of your in St. Louis (maybe over a bowl of grits!), when we gather again in 2025 for SCRC. Please do submit an abstract, and above all, please do join us.