So you think you want to go to graduate school

Lots of people toy with the idea of going to graduate school, but as we know, only a self-selected few actually do. And those who do wonder constantly if it is the right thing to do. I'm no exception. I think about whether I've done the right thing with my life a lot. I've been chasing this Ph.D. for 8 years now. In January 2001, I began to make up the deficiencies I had in my undergraduate record. I thought I'd get my masters. If all went well, I'd get my doctorate.

I wondered if I was smart enough. (I am.) I wondered if I had what it takes to stick with it. (I do.) I wondered if I would enjoy the job I got when I got out. (I believe I will.) I wondered if it was as bad as some people made it out to be. (It is.)

About a year ago, when I was in the middle of one of my blue funks, I conducted a survey of graduate students (which I still haven't properly analyzed), and got input from the people who've been here about whether they would do it all over again. Most would, but most were unhappy about some facet of the way their graduate experience had gone. More than a few were disillusioned with academia. If I can be given a little room to extrapolate here, I'd say that most clearly loved with the work, and clearly were not in love with what it takes to do that work. And that made me realize something about the people who do succeed in graduate school. We don't give up when the going gets tough, or when the going gets really tough, or when the going get ridiculously, unbelievably, inconceivably tough, or even when you-really-should-have-brought-a-lawsuit-over-this-shit-already tough.

Graduate school reminds me of marriage that way. The relationship starts off in this idealized, I'm-just-crazy-about-you way and over time it becomes more and more strained until one day you come to your senses and realize that the way you're being treated isn't ok. Not in your book. Not in anyone's book. So yeah. An ability to tolerate the intolerable because there is no other path leading toward your goals--that's what it takes to be a successful grad student.

I understand now what J meant when he said he would tell people to do something else if you could, but if you can't do something else, then, dig in and get comfortable.

So, yes, people in grad school are smart. Being smart is the least of your worries. Do you have the other traits necessary to succeed in grad school?

Are you tenacious? Can you stick with it when you hate your advisor, when nothing is going right with your work, when your committee is convinced you are a moron, and when nightmares of having to pay back those student loans wake you up in the night? If not, stay away.

Are you self-motivated. No one is going to hold your hand in graduate school. No one is going to make sure you are working. If you need a coach just to get out of bed in the morning, join the gym. No one is going to cheer from the sidelines to spur you on. Maybe your mama, but certainly no one you work with.

Do you know what your strengths and weaknesses are? Self-awareness is extremely helpful. If you don't know already, graduate school will gladly point your weaknesses out to you.

Are you thick-skinned? Can you stand people yelling at you? Because professors will. They will say things to you that cut to the bone. You will be amazed that these people can say these things and live with themselves. Trust me, their comments may hurt but they are doing you a favor by saying them.

Can you work alone? Graduate education is, by its very nature, singular work. No one is going to be there when you are in the lab night after night after night. This is your path. Remember?

Confidence. In fact, I would say that most graduate students border on narcissistic personalities. We believe in our abilities. Usually, we have the stuff to back up that faith.

Are you ready for the hard realities of life? Because I'm going to tell you, you aren't nearly da shiznit as you think you are. Most smart people are used to being the smartest person in the room. In graduate school, everyone is smart. Most of them are smarter than you. You will feel stupid around these people...for a very long time.

I have heard many people say that a graduate degree is "just a piece of paper" and "it really doesn't mean anything". I can't even address how wrong these people are. Graduate school is a gauntlet and you really can't begin to understand how much that paper represents until you have done it yourself.

I'm still wondering 8 years later whether I did the right thing.

Speaking of D-constructing D

Therapy is not for sissies. Well, I guess you could go to a therapist and complete ignore your problem or the "hard truths" that come with self-examination, but it would be a waste of money and I would hazard that it would border on malpractice on the part of your psychologist.

In any event, I go to therapy and talk for a bit and then listen to a man tell me about myself. He tells me things about myself I already know and am happy about, things I already know and I'm not happy about, things I ought to know but don't, and things I hadn't a clue of. And yes, sometimes it's hard when someone tells you what your friends won't. I realize that we all have bad behaviors, but when isn't it hard to listen to someone tell you yours? But, I listen carefully when Bill talks because I know he isn't interested in embarassing me or shaming me into behaving differently--he simply wants to give me the tools I need to get what I want out of life.

Today he did a lot of talking.

Psychologist Bill is pretty good. He doesn't let me control the session. We don't waste time. I'm comfortable opening up about my life (at least this situation, anyway). I am confident he will not take advantage of my weaknesses. I feel pretty good about the rapport. He seems to have crafted a program designed to capitalize on my strengths. I like to do things. He gives me things to do. I feel like an active participant in my therapy.

Last week, my assignment was to describe the problem I was having with my advisor, to articulate why it was a problem for me, and to establish end goals by which I would consider the problem resolved. What was missing from this assignment was the hard part...the actual "how to" of resolving it. The act of remembering these interactions and crafting a narrative about them had two effects. Foremost, it made me angry to think about the interactions again (I realize that I detest being the object of injustice--I just get incensed), but it also made me anxious to think about the problem and STILL have no idea how to get from Point A (the unprovoked attacks on my character) to Point B (making the attacks stop). The thinking about it, dwelling on it, and having it still be unresolved caused me to become anxious. When I feel anxious, I engage in repetitive behaviors to calm myself. In this case, I rewrote and recrafted the written assignment in an 8-hour marathon in which I didn't move from the couch. It lasted until 5 am when I finally emailed the assignment to Bill to render further revisions pointless. The fact that my repetitive behaviors have absolutely no direct bearing to the problem doesn't seem to matter. As Bill told me when I sought some relief for a particularly acute attack of the OCs in the past (that's obsessive-compulsives for you newbies), "if you could make yourself stop by telling yourself the behavior was pointless, you would have stopped already." It's not that I don't recognize the OC behavior, it's that I can't seem to stop engaging in it. And when it is really bad, I have to make deals with myself that I won't let it interfere with major life activities. I'll tell myself that I can spend 4 hours writing a 2-paragraph email, but I have to quit at 2 and go to class. And if I didn't make these deals, sleep, work, friends, and dogs would all have to wait until my anxiety was fully pacified. I guess it's better than kicking the dog. I'm really not doing much more harm than wasting my time.

Bill seems intent on making my get in touch with my feelings. Sometimes I think I've never been properly introduced to my feelings. Bill claims I start every sentence with "I think...." =] In any event, today we had a discussion about identifying feelings. Bill says that anxiety iand anger are responses to fear. So that me, being both angry and anxious, must be experiencing fear. I maintain that anger and anxiety are a response to frustration. There is quite a bit of distance between fear and frustration I think. Either that or Bill and I have quite different ideas about fear. I am not afraid to tackle this problem. I am not prevented from acting by fear of my advisor or the consequences. I am angry because I am frustrated that I have to tackle this problem at all. Because in reality, I'm not the problem. And I think I am anxious because this is a tricky problem and it demands skills that aren't very well practiced in me: patience, calmness, and political awareness.

In other words, I'm not crippled by a fear of the interaction. I am anxious because there is another person in this who can respond to my approach by crying, becoming angry, becoming belligerent, and possibly making my life more of a living hell. I am anxious because I find myself having to tell a person lacking in self-esteem that they are behaving like a major league butthead. It wasn't obvious to me, but seems obvious to others that my advisor is somewhat intimidated by me. I mean seriously, I didn't see it. But if that is true, how much worse is it going to be to have the person who intimidates you force you to deal with your bad behavior?

Sheesh.

But I will address it. And I think after today and talking with Bill, I might just be able to handle it well. I have to remain calm. I have to remain calm no matter how off topic she goes, no matter how she tries to poo-poo it, no matter how much she yells or tries to deflect this back on me. The thing that I'm actually afraid of here is that she won't change and I'll have to tolerate this behavior until I finish. Or that our relationship will be strained because of it. Or that it will escalate because I dared to call her on it. Because any of those scenarios would truly make my remaining time here unpleasant.

Therapy is not always theraputic

So I have begun seeing a counselor again. Same fellow as last time, completely different issue. Nice guy, my therapist Bill. The thing I like about him is that he is straightforward, doesn't let me dump all of this on someone else's doorstep, and gives me discrete things to think about or do that move me toward solving the problem. I quit going last time when our conversations just began to devolve into me just rambling. Just talking isn't my idea of taking an active role in moving forward. In any event, I'm back in trying to deal with issues of trust and betrayal in a professional relationship.

My first assignment was to write out a description of a couple of interactions with my advisor that I found objectionable, and to detail what happened and why I felt it was a problem. I then outlined specific results I'd like to see, how I wanted to feel about me after the dealing with it part was all over, and to identify any potential conflicts to achieving those objectives.

What I see missing from this puzzle is the "how to deal with it part". In large part, the anxiety over the situation arises from knowing that if I don't do something about it, it is likely to continue and to escalate. Obviously, in a situation that I already feel as gone way the fuck over the line, escalation is not an option. The thing that pisses me off is that despite having done nothing that I can recall to deserve becoming my advisor's punching bag, I have to put my neck on the chopping block by daring to call her on it. My experience with her and with most people is that when you approach them with a serious problem with their behavior, they seldom take the news well.

Ain't it grand to be me?

In any event, writing out my objections and having to articulate why, specifically, these interactions are problemmatic, and what I feel should be done to make it right only served to inflame my passions about these events all over again. This inflammation does not just subside because the assignment is over, but has caused me to have to re-write and re-read the homework sheets again and again. Finally, at 4:53 am this morning, I emailed them to my therapist hoping that this would make further revisons pointless. I was able to get about 5 hours of sleep. I am trying to find my good karma again.

Two Roads, One Destination

Today, I recalled something D-friend J (not to be confused with D-fav J) said to me not too long ago. He was speaking about his difficulties in initiating his dissertation research and noted that he struggled to design an appropriate research project, and in the process began to doubt his abilities and strength as a future scientist. He mentioned that he spent nearly a year in despair and thought seriously of quitting as he worked through the process. I can now happily report that J came out the other end with a viable project that was eventually funded, and he now sees a silver lining in the experience. He was glad that he stuck with it and that he hadn't been handed a project as some of our own colleagues have. To D-friend J, the struggle was part of the process.

This got me thinking about my graduate experience and that of those around me. There really are two different graduate experiences. There are those who walk into a well funded project designed by an experienced researcher, and those who don't. Now, I will leave J to his opinion, but I have given this some dichotomy some thought and I have come to quite a different conclusion.

The merits of walking into a project are many. Obviously, you don't have to worry about designing a project. You hit the ground running. Don't underestimate the value of skipping this hurdle because graduate school has a timer on it. Your departmental support will run out and some departments, mine included, have unreasonable expectations for when the finish line should be reached. Second, you don't have to write grants in support of your research. Designing and getting support for a project is time consuming, stressful, and virtually guaranteed to send you to the brink of depression. Finally, there is another merit that is often overlooked. If you are walking into a funded project, especially if that project has NSF funding, it is most likely that your advisor is an established and respected researcher. The importance of training with a successful researcher should not be under-emphasized.

The young professor seems eager, and in fact he or she is. They are eager to get a mini-me in their lab so they look and feel good about themselves. Unfortunately, they don't tell you that their one big accomplishment as a professional scientist is in getting you to work with them. They probably haven't established their own research program, haven't got a handle on their teaching assignment, and are going to be entirely too busy on those tasks to appropriately mentor you during the first months while you are struggling. Let's face it, a naive graduate student is a young professor's meat and potatoes; they are the first rung in the tenure ladder. The professors are untested as mentors, and often haven't quite made the mental adjustment from worker on someone else's research program to designer of a research program. That crap they have up on their web site--total bullshit. It is as simple as that. Whether or not a young professor will have the ingenuity and creativity to establish their own research program remains to be seen. Aligning yourself with such a researcher is a crap shoot. Are you willing to bet your future on a crap shoot?

The problem with graduate school is that no professor, young or old, is going to tell you this.

Looking to shift the emphasis of my research program, I elected to work with a professor that was better established than the one I had worked with on my masters. After one semester, I proposed my project to my committee. Imagine my dismay when my committee told me it wouldn't work. I wondered why my major advisor hadn't pointed out the problems with my research design. It was back to square one. That was when my master's advisor stepped forward and said that I should work on a project similar to my master's project and if I chose to do that, she'd be happy to advise me. Crushed by my initial failure and lured by the seemingly easy project design, I switched labs. Yes, this put me on a path that went away from where I wanted to go, but it was better than having no project at all.

I assumed a lot in that switch. I assumed that my advisor would offer the same level of support she had during my masters program. I assumed that my advisor would help me secure funding for this project. I assumed incorrectly.

I spent the next semester designing the project and forming a new committee. My advisor offered little to no guidance on the scope of my project. In fact, she expanded it in ways that made me uncomfortable, but assured me that no one ever finishes the project they propose and we would just "cut that part out at the end". My committee liked this project, noted its amibitious scope, and each member assured me that it was a fundable project. Never doubting my grant writing skills, I was poised and ready to work with my advisor to secure funding.

I wrote a few small grants which were promptly rejected. I approached my advisor about writing an NSF grant, but she had already obligated herself to submitting to the very same program as a co-PI with a better established researcher outside our university. Ultimately, that grant was never submitted, but I was never informed. No mention was ever made of submitting for another deadline. In fact, my advisor seemed to think that funding my project was entirely my responsibility. I wrote eight grants in my first year. I had no field season for lack of funding. I wrote twelve grants in my second year. I had no field season for lack of money. I wrote nine grants in my third year. Most of these were to fund a research project that supported the new direction my advisor wished to take her lab, but that had nothing to do with my dissertation project. My advisor felt that this was an exciting new direction and that funders would jump on the project. They didn't. I went back to writing grants in support of my project. I was able to get out to do some field work by paying my own way and piggybacking on the research of a lab mate. I owe her big time for that. In my fourth year, I wrote five grants. In four years, no grant I wrote was funded. To this day, I have no idea what the problem is with my project. One of my committee members suggested that I have someone other than just my advisor read over my grants before submitting them, but when I asked two professors to look at them, both claimed they didn't have the time. Finally, at the end of my fourth year, I received a two-year fellowship for which my major advisor claims that I am ill suited. So much for faith in me. The fellowship pays well enough that I will be able to pay for my own research. I will be able to finish--that is if they let me have both years of the fellowship.

When I received the fellowship, the chair of our department expressed his displeasure because he feels I should not have been awarded support that would necessarily include a sixth year of university funding. Honestly, I am incensed and confused by this attitude. After struggling for four years, after writing more than thirty grants in support of my research, I finally got the support I need to pay for my own research out of my own pocket, and I am being told that the money came too late? WTF?

Imagine how different my experience might have been had I walked into a predesigned, well funded project. I would not be facing my fifth year only now getting my field work underway. I would not be facing the pressure of trying to finish a four year degree in one year. Honestly, I don't think it can be done. If they strip me of the second year of funding, I have every confidence that I will be walking away from this project empty handed. Had I had funding at the beginning, I would probably be finished by now. I would not be the laughing stock of my department. Instead, I spend every day trying to cope with the stress that never seems to end. I stare at the bottom line on my student loans and wonder if I will ever be able to afford the minimum payments. I wonder if I will ever own a new car or my own home once I move away from this place. I feel humiliated nearly every day that I walk into my building. I'd quit, but I can't. I can't afford to walk away with anything less than a Ph.D. because that is what it is going to take to pay off those loans. All in all, in this economy, I see nothing but economic ruin for me.

Sometimes, I wish for a swift and painless death. And I'm not kidding. I'm not suicidal, but I would welcome an end to the stress if it befell me. I don't feel my future holds any real, well future. I made a mistake--not in coming to graduate school--but in aligning myself with an untested researcher who, either through lack of experience or lack of interest, didn't take a vested interest in my success. I still feel that my advisor should have taken a more active role in seeking funding for my project. Instead, she has distanced herself from me. She has certainly taken greater interest in the projects of other students. Whether it was through gross incompetence or willful negligence, I paid the price for my choice and no one else. And I will continue to pay for it for the rest of my life.

I used to be considered one of the top students in our department. Now, I feel as though I'm something of a departmental joke. Professionally, I wonder if this is something that I will ever be able to overcome. Unlike D-friend J, I woud not recommend designing your own project. I do not feel like it will make me a better researcher. While he came out feeling worthy, I'm four years in and my confidence is shattered. My only suggestion to others is to go for the pre-designed, well funded project working with an established, tenured professor. Don't put yourself in this boat with me. If it sinks, no one will save you, and others just stand on shore thanking their lucky stars they aren't you.