Underwater Adventure

Maya archaeologist Heather McKillop talks with authors J&P Voelkel at Maya@Playa

[@steppenwolf584]

The first anthropology class I that I ever took was Anthropology 4003 with Heather McKillop in the fall semester of 1993. When I knew her, Dr. McKillop was a wonderful lecturer and a steady researcher. However, she had zero couth and lousy people skills, perhaps a result of her laser sharp focus on her research. I was an undergrad, a junior, taking a senior / graduate level course that covered the ancient Central and South American civilizations. Because I was not an anthropology major, I was not at all familiar with many of the basic anthropological concepts that we covered in the class. Even though I didn't neglect assignments or miss class, I felt like I had to play catch up for most of the semester for this particular course in anthropology. However, the workload was manageable: In addition to the mid-term and the final, we were required to present on a journal article and also to write a 10-15 page paper on some aspect of the ancient Central and South American civilizations. It was this paper that gave me so much trouble. I decided to write on the Maya bloodletting ritual, a topic that I’d never heard of and a topic for which there was a paucity of information. Remember that this was 1993, so the internet was in its extreme infancy. There was no Google, Google Scholar, or even Wikipedia. Writing the paper was like trying to build a sand castle in the middle of Manhattan - no sand anywhere. I struggled to find information on my topic, so the finished product was a jumble of disjointed ideas crudely sown together into a Frankenstein of a paper. Those nine pages contained more anecdotes, rambling ideas, and loose associations than any factual information. I very distinctly remember writing this one line that apparently did not sit well with Dr. McKillop: "There appear to be similarities between the Maya and Greek pantheons." I must have hit a nerve because when I received my graded term paper, Dr. McKillop had written in large angry letters: "THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO EVIDENCE THAT THE ANCIENT GREEKS HAD ANY CONTACT WITH THE ANCIENT MAYA! WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH THIS?" When I saw the comment, I thought: "Chill, lady. You're obviously reading way too deeply into this." But, she achieved her goal of making me feel less than adequate. Consequently, I still have this term paper, and after having earned several post baccalaureate degrees, including a doctorate, Dr. McKillop's comments still annoy the dog shit out of me. She just had a way of communicating in no uncertain terms that she was not interested in knowing any of her students, unless of course they could help with her research. She definitely preferred anthropology majors over non-anthropology majors. Dr. McKillop also had a well deserved reputation for being cliquish, which I experienced firsthand. And because she was cliquish, her students were also cliquish. Monkey see, monkey do, you know? Her TA was a grad student named Brad Ensor (now Dr. Bradley Ensor of Eastern Michigan University). Ensor looked like a very young, clean cut, and tightly wound Indiana Jones: his standard uniform included starched and pressed blue jeans, work boots, a starched and pressed denim shirt, and a denim jacket (for the colder months). He was just as awkward, disinterested, and unhelpful as Dr. McKillop, yet classmates often vied for Brad's approval, hoping that they could then weasel into Dr. McKillop's good graces. This class was more like junior high than a senior/graduate level course. At the end of the semester, Dr. McKillop had a special "treat" for all of us: After the last lecture of the semester, she hosted a soiree for us in the atrium of the Howe-Russell Geoscience Complex. I didn't go, of course, because I saw no need to spend time with people who made it very clear that they were not the least bit interested in knowing anyone but Heather McKillop. (If I wanted to be ignored, I'd just go hang out on Chimes Street). When I knew Dr. McKillop, she'd been teaching five, maybe six years, so balancing her teaching load with her research agenda was obviously very challenging. However, this does not excuse her behavior and hopefully she's outgrown it. There is no value in giving students the impression that you don't care about them, and too often this was the impression that Heather McKillop made.