Academia Puppet Show

Let me just start by saying I love my job. I love creating clever and helpful lesson plans. I love teaching my students skills they'll be able to practice and hone for the rest of their professional and personal lives. I love mentoring other graduate students to help them become the best instructors and researchers they can be while managing the stresses of grad school. I love seeing my students transform from communication caterpillars to beautiful writing butterflies. I love it. Otherwise, I would not be here.

There are a lot of problems that come with being a PhD student. I'm not paid enough to survive. I've had to take out loans just to afford rent and food. I've felt unsupported by my university as an at-risk instructor and student during the Pandemic. I don't get staff rights like closer parking, affordable parking, staff awards and scholarships, or health insurance. I am worn out from working second and third jobs, teaching, and taking classes at the same time. I won't even go into the stress of unpaid service I perform in my field and at my university. Sometimes, all this really gets to me and I want to just tune out for a week to remember that I'm still a person and I matter outside my labor for the field.

The alternative to tuning out, which I've told myself for forever, is to work both smart and hard to prepare myself for an on-time graduation at 4 years. I would do my best work. I would present my class assignments at conferences to get feedback. I'd prepare to publish once ready. I'd mentor and teach to the best of my ability. I'd attend trainings to stay up to date in my field and continually improve even if nobody observed my teaching formally. I'd volunteer in even the tiniest ways I could be useful, ways that would add to my CV and my passion for helping others at the same time. I'd prepare research for my comprehensive exams and dissertation ahead of time. If I could do it all, I could graduate on time. I could get out of here and move on to my best life where I could do what I love for a livable wage, health insurance, enough money to be off food stamps, and step away from toxic people in my program and a town that seems to reject me like mis-matched donated organ. I could move forward.

When I first changed advisors from the graduate advisor, whom I love and respect but just wasn't an expert in what I needed mentorship in, to the advisor I knew I wanted since taking my first research course with, the plan seemed to work. I kept the sticky note with my plan in my office drawer to remind me of my success when I felt drained beyond belief. It spelled out the plan I imagined:

Spring 2024: form committee, decide exam areas

Summer 2024: exam reading

Fall 2024: take exams (ABD), write prospectus/IRB protocol

Spring 2025- Fall 2025: job market

I thought if I did things right, I wouldn't need to take that fall 2025 semester. I could do it all. I could. My next meeting with my advisor in March, I told her my project proposal. She said to publish it and do something else for the dissertation. I was crushed. I know the project I'd been working on since 2022 could be a dissertation. Why was she suggesting otherwise?

"What's the rush?" she asked me. She had to know. I couldn't continue living on this poor a wage anymore. I couldn't afford health insurance. I couldn't afford rent. I couldn't afford anything despite how much I worked. She's a wonderful advisor. I know she doesn't want me to burn out by teaching, doing my dissertation research, and being on the job market at the same time. Yet, I couldn't help but feel trapped in the academia puppet show during this meeting. The department survived using cheap graduate student labor to teach courses. I was teaching 300 and 400-level courses for a fragment of the pay of faculty, adjuncts, and the post-doc in our department. The doubt in me struggled against my love for teaching and research. Was my plan always destined to fail?

The next week, I presented my research so far and my plans for it at the Qualitative Research Network at a large conference in my field. I hoped for feedback to make this more than just 1 paper. I shared what I had with my groupmates and crossed my fingers. After looking over my research plan, sources, and plan to publish, I got the validation I wanted. The faculty mentors at the table suggested using this research as a benchmark to study how the student research processes changed since the incorporation of AI like ChatGPT for my dissertation. They said I could use one article on this study but make it a chapter in my dissertation. They hyped up different journals for research and library studies that would be interested in my research. They gave me a plan to bring forward as my potential prospectus this fall.

If multiple faculty mentors could see my project's potential, why did my advisor think otherwise? I wondered if I hadn't completely explained my plan to her in a way where she could see what I saw for the project. Nervous for that approval, I made an appointment with her after coming back from the conference refreshed and inspired to carry out my research plan. As the appointment approached tomorrow, I hope I can convince her. I hope I am not expected to spend an extra year here, in Academia purgatory where so many ABD PhD candidates spend years of their life. I want out of the puppet show. I am not built for puppetry. I am built to pave the way for my future. I am built to want the best for me, to no longer suffer under the yokes of graduate assistantship. I can only hope she sees it to, and releases me. Just say go. I'm ready.

#IDisappointMyDad #IDMD #post6 #04212024 #AcademiaPuppetShow