Archive for Grad School
‘Cause I can
“So many opportunities I’ve wasted
When what I wanted the most
Was to prove to the whole world
That I did not need to
Prove anything to anyone”
(Renato Russo, “Almost Unintentionally”) *
I’m capricious. I don’t shy away from hard-work, but I can only do it if I feel completely unconstrained. Doing things because I have to, because I have no other option, because that’s what’s expected of me…. that just doesn’t do it for me. I can’t do things out of fear, nor can I do them out of desire to impress people. Which means I’m really hard to motivate. Once motivated, though, I can keep going forever. The difficult thing is to get me started.
As an undergraduate, I remember really identifying with Dostoevsky’s “underground man” in “Notes from Underground”. I haven’t read that book since I was 19, and maybe that was just an existential phase every young person goes through — maybe if I decided to pick up this book today, I might find I’ve changed so much that I should be embarrassed to have publicly said those were feelings I identified with. But maybe not.
A more recent and even uncannier experience was taking the Jung-Briggs-Myers personality test a couple of years ago. The description I read of my personality type (INTJ) is the most accurate description of all my innermost secrets – and INTJ are famous for hiding their secrets really well. Every single line made me go: “This is me! OMG, this is me too! Whoa, so me!” Here are some examples:
“Whatever system an INTJ happens to be working on is for them the equivalent of a moral cause to an INFJ; both perfectionism and disregard for authority may come into play, as INTJs can be unsparing of both themselves and the others on the project. Anyone considered to be “slacking,” including superiors, will lose their respect — and will generally be made aware of this (…).
“INTJs can rise to management positions when they are willing to invest time in marketing their abilities as well as enhancing them, and (whether for the sake of ambition or the desire for privacy) many also find it useful to learn to simulate some degree of surface conformism in order to mask their inherent unconventionality.”
And I used to think I was so hard to pin down: turns out I’m a textbook case for a personality type.
I’m confident, but hardly assertive; shy, but hardly modest; vain, but hardly fashionable (the vanity comes precisely in making a point of scorning fashionableness whenever possible); I take great pride in my humility; I like others to notice how invisible I am; I am extremely attached to my detachment, completely dependent on my independence.
The reason I bring this up is that I’ve been trying all sorts of motivational tricks to get myself to finish this PhD. Disregard for authority means that I couldn’t care less for the status or prestige the degree brings. The thought of dropping all at this point fails to provoke magical motivational fear: all it manages to do is to activate my shoulder-shrugging existential cynicism to whisper a “so what” through a smug smirk. This isn’t fun, I don’t have to do it, I don’t need to do it, I don’t care what others think if I do or do not complete it, so why do it?
And after days and weeks and months and years thinking about this, I finally found the answer: I’m doing this ’cause I can. Notice, it’s not to “see whether” I can, or ”to prove that” I can: I know that already, and I don’t need to prove that to anyone (did I say I’m not modest? I’m not modest. Did I mention anything about disdain? ). I think the prestige attached to the PhD really works as I deterrent for me: I worry that people will think I’m trying to prove something; that I’m competitive, stuck up, whatever, whatever… And today I realized that in my desire to “prove to everybody that I have nothing to prove” I really have been wasting tons of opportunities.
The desire to quit comes from missing my family, missing stability, missing my friends, missing the work I was doing in Brazil and the people I was working with. None of these things require a PhD. The people I miss will not stop loving me if I quit the programme (if they did, then I might be motivated to do it just out of spite). The important thing I realized today, however, is that they will not stop loving me if I finish it either.
Besides, it so happens that I’m in a position to do this, and most of them are not: I’m at the right place at the right time with the right tools; I am in good health; I do not have anyone who depends on my care and I don’t need anyone to take care of me. If they had this opportunity, they wouldn’t waste it. Why should I?
* My translation of:
“Quantas chances desperdicei
quando o que eu mais queria
era provar para todo mundo
que eu não precisava
provar nada pra ninguém.”
(Renato Russo, Quase Sem Querer)
(In)Decisive moment
Back in April, I had a plan. I would be Toronto from late April to late August, and then go back to Brazil, hopefully for good. (The going-back-to-Brazil-hopefully-for-good part has actually been the plan for a bit longer than that, check for instance the April before last.) August is now practically here, and the question is: am I going home now? And if so, is it for good?
The answer is: I do not know. I know I should know, but I don’t. The thing was, in my ignorant arrogance (incidentally, it’s interesting how ignorance and arrogance often go together), I actually thought I could finish my thesis by the end of this summer. This was back in February. By June, I thought I’d be happy if I could have a full draft done by the end of August. And now it becomes quite obvious I might not have even that.
And it is not that I haven’t been working hard: I have been diligent, and even productive (the two don’t always go together, but they have been lately). It’s just that I keep underestimating how much work a PhD requires (or overestimating my capacity, which comes to the same thing at the end of the day — or the end of the summer as it turns out).
So I find I have three options:
1) To go home at the end of the summer, finish my thesis there and come back later to defend it;
2) To go home at the end of the summer, give up on completing the degree and never come back;
3) Not to go home until the degree gets finished, end of story.
I must say number 2 is the most tempting of the three. I’ve written before that I was never that attached to the thought of completing the PhD: I was doing it just for the fun of it. If it stopped being fun, why do it?
But then I thought: it’s sooo close! It is close, isn’t it? Is it actually close? Problem is, it’s been looking as if it’s close for a while. For quite a while. A very long while. And yet the end seems to keep eluding me. And as you might have noticed if you’ve read any of my recent writing (e.g. this entry), I’m homesick. Silly, I know. But I am.
The thought then comes: why not go home like I did last August, spend the year there like I did last year, and come back again next April like I did this April? I could try to finish the writing there, and come here when it’s done, when the weather is nice (I couldn’t handle another winter). I could take up same summer job again, which conveniently comes with room and board, which is quite handy given that I no longer have a place of my own in Toronto.
This sounded like an excellent idea. I got excited for ten minutes. And then the lists of cons quickly got ten times longer than the lists of pros.
1) The trip Brasilia-Toronto is becoming increasingly more difficult. I can’t even start tracking all the posts I complained about:
a) the logistics of travelling (e. g. all entries for October and November 2007). Add to it the fact that I heard rumours Brazilian airports were going on strike again this week. This does not seem to have actually materialized, but I have been there before when this happened, and it’s just not fun.
b) rising fuel costs means rising plane prices. I’ve always been able to get home for about Cdn $1,000, give or take $200, depending on time of year. This is less than rent in Toronto for two months — which makes a trip worth it if you’re planning on staying more than a couple of months. So far the prices seem to be stable. But you never know what it will be like a year from now.
c) rising emotional costs. Getting myself ready to leave Brazil for another trip to Toronto has become increasingly more difficult at an emotional level. Before I used to get all excited. Couldn’t wait. Counting days and all. But now I’m so excited about being there, all the projects that I have going on there, that I find it hard to leave my life there to come here. Last time it took me about a month to reconcile myself to the fact that here I was, once again. Now that I’ve settled in, I’m actually happy to be here. It’s just that the getting-ready-for and the settling-in nowadays take a lot more time and energy than they used to ten years ago.
2) You’d think that giving myself a year before coming back to Toronto would balance out most of the costs I’ve just mentioned. But then there are other costs:
a) time: my visa expires January 2009. It was a lot of hassle getting it renewed last November (see here and here). And this was so even though I had proof of funding that outlasts my passport expiration date. But my funding expires April 2009: that its, less than four months after my current passport and visa expire. Even if I could make a case for why my visa should be renewed for more than four months, there is another problem:
b) tuition costs: funding ends April 2009. Which means that a year from now this degree will be costing me 15,000 dollars a year. I know I have often complained about how little money I make. But owing a lot of money strikes me as being exponentially worse. Besides, here comes blessing in disguise again: I’m not eligible for loans in Canada because I’m on a visa; I’m not eligible for loans in Brazil because I haven’t lived there in ten years. So waiting until next summer is simply not an option.
So turns out I’ve only got two options, and not three. The decison really comes down to committing to staying here until this thing is finished, or just go home now and forget about it.
One could call this a very decisive moment in my life. Except that I feel completely indecisive…
Concentrated knowledge
I read an article today saying that of the 20,000 people who obtained a doctoral degree in Canada between 2001 and 2006, 25% were came from another country. Add to this the fact that the skilled workers’ immigration system rewards those applicants with a PhD, and one can say that Canada is on the receiving end of a brain drainer (and not the one being drained).
Maybe it’s a reflection on the level of social accomplishment of a country that it can boast of having so many so highly educated people. But even that high level of social accomplishment has its down sides. The number of people I know who have a PhD and find themselves unemployable is distressingly high. The country has a surplus of PhD holders, and a shortage of construction workers (often labelled “unskilled” workers, though they seem to be much more skilled than I when it comes to making houses. And hell, to attain that level of usefulness to society after I get my PhD is my highest ambition).
Maybe it’s a good thing for me that I was never quite eligible to apply for permanent resident status in Canada (those are easier to get here than in other countries, but still not that easy). That forces me to return home to Brazil, where hopefully I’ll be more useful (and employable).
Granted, there was a time that my ineligility made me resentful. And to be fair, I must say that in the last year or two the process has changed enough to mean that if I wanted, maybe now I’d have a much better chance. But when I see so many so highly qualified people — including those who did get their permanent residency, or those who were Canadian nationals in the first place — in a state of total anxiety as they job hunt for one, two, three or more years after finishing the PhD (and all the temp positions they get, which is a catch-22 in itself, making it impossible for them to publish enough to get a tenure-track job) — gosh, I almost feel that not being eligible to stay (or at least without having to go through a major bureaucratic ordeal) is a blessing in disguise.
Now, you say maybe my unemployed PhD friends are just too picky. Well, maybe they are. But it doesn’t help that the system is setup in such a funnel that universities (and maybe colleges, but only as a worst-case scenario type of deal) are often considered the only places dignified enough for a PhD holder.
When I tell people that after my PhD I would like to teach at high school level, they frown. “But you’re too good for that!” Well, if I am so good, then there was probably some goodness in me back when I was a high school student, no? And I vividly remember how angry it made me that teachers, and administrators, and the system in general, treated us high school kids as if we were good for nothing, as if we would only start developing the first glimpses of intelligence when and if we got into university.
So there. Some high schoolers do have enough intelligence to notice that they’re not being well-provided for. And their memories have been well trained enough for them to remember this fact when they grow up. And when they do, they are told that to care about high school now that they’re proved to be so intelligent is beneath them. Does this make any sense?
According to the principle of entropy, concentrated things naturally tend to difuse into uniform disarray. A related notion is the idea that nature abhors vacuum. And yet, it is interesting how some things such as recognized knowledge tend to become so highly concentrated to the point of actually resisting dispersion, be it at the global or at the local level. (Of course non-recognized knowledge is everywhere. It’s just not acknowledged. Interesting, no?)
Now, I remember learning about this entropy business back in my high school physics class, back in Brazil. Isn’t that some evidence that you do not have to be a PhD holder in a wealthy country to generate interesting knowledge?
Why do it?
I have little patience for whiners. Especially when I am the one doing the whining. Now, one might classify parts of my post of July 10 as containing elements that are vaguely whine-like. And if, 7 years ago, I were to read a post like that, I’d probably just say: “why can’t you just work harder to finish your PhD, or drop it all together? What’s the point of doing this if it makes you this miserable?”
The thought of dropping the PhD has visited me many many times. Some times it would stay for months at end, like this past March-April-May. I’ve read several books on how to survive graduate school. I don’t miss a single issue of the “ABD Survival Guide” (not because I’m that terrible anxious or anything, but because I always enjoyed reading instructions, manuals, recipes and user’s guides. One of those things.)
Moreover, everyone who asks me how my work goes inevitably gets horrified when I mention thoughts of quitting, and proceeds to give me the speech that I just have to hang in there. I have heard enough variations on this theme to have a cynical response ready at hand to all those that one make into the AmFG list (for “Advice most Frequently Given). (People seem always surprised when I say I have a cynical vein. That’s because I’m very good at hiding it. It’s just too strong to leave exposed).
Here’s a subset of the AmFG list, followed by my ready-made response:
But you can do this! You’re definitely good enough for this!
I know, I know. I hate to sound immodest, but that’s not the point. The point is: is it good enough for me? My thoughts on this vary.
But think of what made you want to start a doctorate in the first place!
Well, I spent high school daydreaming about visiting other countries and learning new languages. But I never liked being a tourist. You never get an “authentic experience” as a tourist. You never have a good excuse to talk to people (other than other tourists and/or service providers). I wanted to expand my vocabulary to beyond being able to ask for directions and exchanging itineraries.
Besides, it’s expensive to travel as a tourist for an extended period of time. I would have had to work for years to afford something like that. And even if I could find a job that would pay me enough to spend a couple of years away, it’d probably would not allow me to be away for so long.
So there. That was what made me start a doctorate in the first place. The thought of getting paid to stay for more than a few months in a place where I could have a good excuse to talk to people and practice my English — that did it for me.
But now I want to go home. My English has managed to get pretty good. I have learned interesting things. I’ve met interesting people. I’ve had an authentic experience. The PhD program gave me all that I’d expected it to. Getting a diploma per se was never much of an issue. So why finish?
But think of all the money and time you have invested in it already!
Errr… Technically, I didn’t invest any money in it: I was fortunate to always have funding. Now, conceivably, if I had gone back home and got a proper job, maybe by now I would have accummulated a bit of capital, whereas my whole adult life I’ve lived from paycheque to paycheque, struggling to make ends meet.
I’m also fully aware that there are many people who are paying or would be willing to pay a lot of money to have this opportunity, if they could only have the money or the opportunity. (I do my taxes myself. I used to have to pay taxes on all of my scholarship. It was a lot of tax money — especially for an international student. I’m glad it’s not taxable any more. But it was an effective way to keep me aware how much it cost to do what I was doing.)
I do not take any of this for granted at all. It is just that I feel the time and money invested was for the learning more than for the degree — and I did do quite a bit of learning. So nothing was wasted (and even it had been wasted, it is not as if one could get it back — I’d rather think that the best one could do would be to count one’s losses and stop wasting it some more).
And at this point in time, I’m more than eager to stop being a cost to society and start giving something back (not to mention accummulate some capital of my own). And I know there is a lot I can do right now that does not require having a PhD. So why finish?
But think of all the people that would like to be in the position you are in and cannot, for whatever reason!
I do. All the time. This is actually the argument that has more weight for me. I’ve always felt a bit scornful of academics (but please don’t tell anyone). I’ve never felt like I was one of them. I was just role-playing. I’ve never felt as driven or as concerned. I just liked the idea of getting paid to read stuff I like and telling people what I thought about it.
But I know how much a luxury this is — and it makes me awfully uncomfortable. I know fully well that there are people who would give anything to have a chance to do what I do. I don’t feel I deserve to be here any more than they do. On the contrary, I don’t feel I’ve earned this at all. And my thought is: why should I continue to occupy the spot of someone who could doing so much more with this experience than I am?
Unless, of course, I could use this experience in their favour. Someone else being here in my spot would not make all the other deserving people be here too. Besides, I’m here already, nothing to be done about that. Quitting at this point wouldn’t do anyone any harm. But it also wouldn’t do anyone any good.
Furthermore, while the credentials I get from finishing mean little to me as compared to how much I’ve already learned, it does open some doors. Doors to let other people in. So that’s maybe a reason to keep going.
I just have to move now from the “Why do it?” to “Just do it!”
Now, just as the thought of quitting has visited me many a time, the thought of working harder has also visited regularly. So work harder I do. And yet, there’s always room for harder. I just hope I can manage to bring this to an end before it brings me to an end. But there’s no way to know who’ll win the fight until we fight the fight. And so we fight on…
Just do it, Ester. Just do it.
Commitment vs. Pastime
Last week four students in my department came over my place for dinner. Coincidentally or not, all the four of them are Chinese, married, and their respective husbands (and children) are all in China.
This made me think. Sometimes I complain of the difficulties of struggling to complete a doctorate living by myself with no family in an eight-thousand-kilometer radius; that this double life is just not worth it; why am I doing this anyways; blah, blah, blah. But for these colleagues, the double-life feeling is much more drastic: their family ties stronger; the trip home much longer; the language and cultural barriers much more pronounced (at least I don’t need to learn a new alphabet).
It may be just the way I look at it, one of those “grass is always greener” type of feelings. But they not only seem to take their programme more seriously, but they take the whole process with much more serenity than I do. Is it a sacrifice for them? Certainly, but one that was carefully considered and then embraced. They seem to have a purpose as well as something at stake: something that makes all this studying make sense, and gives it some value that goes beyong studying for study sake.
As for me, do I have a purpose? Not sure. Sometimes I feel that it is all like an elaborate computer game, as a friend of mine says, which I started playing because it seemed like fun, but that now got quite challenging. My fingers are cramping, my eyes are sore from looking at the screen for so long, by brain is burning out, my social life is going down the drain, but my intellectual vanity does not allow me to quit at this point (“it’s been so many obstacles, I must be getting near the end any time now,” she says, as hours, weeks, years pass by). I don’t know about you, but this doesn’t seem to me like a motive deserving of a doctorate. I need a worthier cause. I must have more at stake than just the fear of losing face, right?
Maybe finding out what this is just the missing key that I need to move on to the next level.
