On the one hand, you are happy to be recognized. Thank you for noticing that we have all been spending years doing this intellectual work. Work that has been recognized by other institutions, by other organizations, by other scholars and in public venues. Work that has been awarded prizes. Thank you for finally pointing it out to accepted students and their parents.

On the other, you want to say, “do you actually want a cookie for that?” You want to shout, “That’s what you are supposed to do, goddamnit!” You want to tear your hair in frustration, asking, “Is this the first time you’ve done this in all the time that you’ve held administrative positions? Did you do this because your speechwriter included it? Why isn’t the intellectual work of faculty integral to the marketing of the damn college?”

Instead, you arrange your mouth into something resembling a smile, nod, and say, “thank you, that was kind,” then ignore the self-congratulatory e-mail because, while you might could refrain from profanity now, you certainly couldn’t refrain from sarcasm in your response.

Ultimately, you wonder what you yourself, as a historian and a history professor, are for.