Thoughts on End of the First Semester

Hello, nonexistent readers! I’m returning with a long-delayed post now that I’m on break. This means I finished my first semester in graduate school, with feelings of relief and lingering anxiety. I didn’t do quite as many blog posts throughout the semester as I had intended, but as the year reaches its end perhaps I can make a new year’s resolution to improve on how frequently I post (I commit only to making the resolution, as following it is another matter). 2018 has been a strange year for me, as I’ve spent it at two different institutions: first in my undergraduate school located at the heart of NYC before graduating and spending the summer still reeling from this life milestone, and now in graduate school in a small college town. This change from an urban to rural setting has been disorienting, but not more so than the shift from being an undergraduate student to a graduate one. So what are my thoughts?

In truth, moving to a new place and leaving behind old friends is always a difficult experience, but I’m surprised how well I adjusted given how apprehensive I was about moving away from a big city. I think it really depends on what kind of person you are, but since I’ve had to spend most of my time indoors reading I didn’t actually miss all the amenities of city life as much as I thought I would. The small town life has forced me to start learning to drive, and I did learn to cook a lot more now that I don’t have the ease of stepping out of my apartment to streets full of restaurants. I’m also living alone in my own space for the first time after years of having roommates. It’s a reminder that I’m far away from many of my old friends and that I can no longer get away with the dorm-style mess and being ill-equipped with kitchen utensils which often come with being a college student. But all in all, I feel like it’s forcing me to become a real adult, both a frightening but also an exciting prospect.

Aside from the real life aspects of moving to a new place, however, most of my need for adjustment came from having to understand I was now a graduate student. I’m still trying to figure out what that means, but this is what I have noticed so far in my first semester. First, the class size took a while to get used to—with seminars of no more than 12 students at various stages of the program, the whole class was structured around discussions of readings (often a devastating amount when you’re balancing multiple seminars and reading groups). As engaging and interesting as it was, for someone who hates speaking in front of people, three hours of sitting in a circle and having to sound intelligent often seemed more like a personal nightmare. I’m a little bit ashamed to admit (though I shouldn’t be) that I have on occasion sat on the bus home from class feeling dumb and close to tears. Moreover, with such small cohorts it’s difficult not to feel competitive every time you hear someone talk about going to a conference, or all the books they have out from the library. I’m not saying that other people knowingly urge competitiveness, and in fact everyone here has been very supportive, but the constant self-doubt and spells of imposter syndrome can make you start comparing yourself to everyone else. (Also, at every department event, party, or conversation someone mentions Foucault or some other theorist and it feels like a secret test of how well-read you are). More so than at any point in my undergraduate career, I’ve had to question if this field was really for me. I feel like an undergraduate degree is an exploration of your interest, but a graduate degree (and not a professional degree that is aimed at helping you get a job outside of academia) is a commitment to your field. And commitment can be scary (you know it, all you millennials and relationship-avoiders).

Another thing that relates to this idea of commitment that marks graduate school life that I’ve had to wrap my head around, and I’ve heard other students talk about, is work versus student life. I’m lucky to have a generous fellowship/stipend, but I also recognize that it means I have a responsibility to the institution to do my best. Since we are being paid to go to school (and teach, although I’ll only be starting that next year), we have to approach graduate school not just as our own education but a duty to the whole institution as well (although we can still critique such institutions). I felt this most strongly recently when there was a controversy with a few professors in our department, and we as graduate students were actively part of departmental politics by signing statements promising to make the department a safer, all-inclusive space. We are no longer just students blind to what goes on behind the scenes, although that is easy to happen, but also a member of the community where intellectual input is not just encouraged but somewhat necessary. The pressure of having responsibilities beyond yourself for your education can be hard to come to terms with, but it’s also encouraging to remind myself of this whenever I’ve had moments questioning why I was here when most of my friends moved onto the workplace. This is kind of my job now, reading and writing and questioning my intelligence (and teaching, which I’m excited for)! Other than the fact I don’t make an impressive salary, it’s an amazing thing to get paid for and I’m grateful.

So yes, throughout the semester I’ve felt stupid and unworthy, and I acknowledge academia can be an incredibly lonely process (the most common advice I’ve heard here is to get a good therapist, or to ensure you have a pet or significant other to keep you sane). But despite all this, when I feel the excitement of reading something that moves me, or come across something in my research that genuinely interests me, or finally overcome my writer’s block and am able to tease out the finer details of an argument, I know I’m in the right place—for now. In moments of despair about my intelligence, I’ve also had moments of elation learning so many new things (which I hope to discuss in my other blog posts). I don’t want to paint graduate school as terribly difficult, and it probably varies according to the field, but I truly appreciated all my mentors and other upperclassmen giving their honest opinions about their experiences. It helped me to hear their struggles and warnings too, because it’s important to grasp the reality of things and think about how to overcome these difficulties. So I hope that as I continue my journey in graduate school, I can pause to assess my struggles in this blog as well as talk about the wonderful things I learn or the cool books I read.  If not helpful to anyone else, I hope that I at least can return to my past struggles and trace my growth (although even professors tell me imposter syndrome is a life companion). If all goes well (as in I don’t fail out), I have 5 and a half more years of endless readings and writing (insert scream here). I know I’m only just beginning with my first semester over, but I’m excited to see where I go (and at the end of it all, write my “Thoughts on End of My Last Semester Ever” post)!