They're touching & I don't want them to anymore.

Dear co-workers and scholars,

This is going to be a difficult blog post for me, so I appreciate your patience and willingness to hear me out.

I'm not sure if it was the 'tism or just me being a picky eater growing up, but I absolutely hated when a disgusting food or sauce touched my fries. Since a tragic case of food poisoning as a child, ketchup simply could not touch my fries, of the fries would be ruined. Now in the Midwest, I've found a new disgust for when places include large pickle spears with my fries and don't mention it on the menu. Yes, if the pickle spear just touches the fry, it becomes tainted with soggy texture and briny aftertaste. It ruins my fries. It's over. I have to pretend I am full if I'm with people who might judge my dislike of pickles. Bleh...

ew, pickles touched the sammy! no thank you.

photocredit: @BPPrice https://www.flickr.com/photos/73082817@N03/21580414250

Sometimes, life is like this. Your religion is expected to touch your personal life, academics, sports, music, work, family life, friendships, romantic relationships, and whatever other hobbies you have. Sometimes academics touches your professional and work life. Sometimes your work touches your friendships and relationships. Sometimes family touches your sports and music.

Things get messy. They leak into, intertwine, overlap, and pile up on one another. Like old chewing gum in your hair, they can't be unstuck without drastic measures. Ice and chemicals can only do so much before you have to get the scissors out and choose how much of the sweet-smelling leakage to chop off. Sacrifice must be made if the rest of the hair is to be saved.

But this blog post isn't about fries and pickles or gum in hair. I'm writing about graduate school, work, and my personal life. I have consistently been a student in school or teaching at a school or even sometimes both for my whole life. And I don't just mean my adult life. I spent the first 18 years of my life in k-12 education. I then spent 2 years at community college, 2 years at a satellite campus for my undergraduate degree, 1 year in a teaching credential program, 1 year teaching high school, 3 years teaching college as a graduate student, and this will be my fifth, and hopefully final, year as a PhD student and graduate assistant. My whole life.

And don't get me wrong, I do truly love what I do. I love research. I love reflection. I love ethnography. I love (and sometimes hate) statistics. I love writing. I love editing. I love giving feedback. I love revising my work to be the best it can be. I love when my writing is accepted at conferences, journals, and edited collections. I love lesson planning. I love teaching. I love training and mentoring new teachers. I love helping. I love (for the most part) admin work. I love being a writing consultant. I love reading and listening to audio books. I love being petty and using Wikipedia instead of AI when the world around me simps for LLMs. I love it... I love it all so much.

There's no way I'd do all that I do if I didn't love it. My pay is low. My insurance isn't included in my compensation. I've been on food stamps and disability. I've relied on food shelves, lived and worked in churches, had to live with unhinged roommates, and rely on my partner for stable shelter. I've been in therapy, both mental and physical. I've been in ARMHS. I've been in the hospital. I've been at my wits' end. I've fallen to my knees, praying for any sign that all that I do for such little in return will all be worth it in the end.

Education is not for the faint of heart and not made for students of all backgrounds to succeed. It's about more than knowledge and skill. It requires grit. It might also require money if you want to avoid a lot of these problems, but I didn't have that and survived because of all the resources in this paragraph and caring faculty in my programs. Because of all this, my academic, work, and personal lives have always leaked into each other.

I'm tired. Within the last year, I had to move in with my partner (thank God he's such a patient and giving person), have multiple illnesses that required expensive medical care, had a cat that got diagnosed with IBS and required an expensive diet, lost a friend too soon, and still somehow passed my comprehensive exams and my prospectus defense. Even though I love what I do, it has been a lot for me lately. In past blog posts, I'm sure there is a pattern when something goes wrong and I debate my tiny existence.

Lately, it has been hard for me to trust people around me at work and school. This could be a side-effect of any of my neurodivergence diagnoses or mental health issues. It also might not be. Whatever the case, it has been becoming more and more of an issue for me in the last 4 years. I see good things happen to bad people and good people get passed over for opportunities they deserve. I see stuff on the news about how minoritized people like me don't deserve education, high-paid work opportunities, accessible and gender-affirming health care, or love. Then I hear students and staff agreeing with the bad news. It's an easy way to feel like my foundation isn't stable. I'm scared, and not just for me.

I think what all this comes down to is this: I need to cut some of this gunk off before it consumes my whole head. I need to be at the top of my game as I finish my dissertation and go on the job market... and I can't do that if I'm distracted and emotionally tormented by the sweet-smelling gum in my hair. Sweetness, after all, can become sickening. I think part of the cut means I need to separate my work life from my personal life. If I've added you as a Facebook friend after meeting you at my current place of work, I think I need to take a step back and keep my personal social media for longtime friends and family, the people who knew me before academia became such a big part of who I am.

I have a LinkedIn if you want to be professional connections there. You also know my work email. You might even know my phone number or new office location. Basically, what I'm saying is you know how to reach me outside of my social media. My family and longtime friends don't. So I'm cleaning up my personal social media and remaking it a place for me as a whole person instead of just me the academic.

I'm not doing this to anger or upset you. I'm not doing this because of any of you. I'm doing this for my own personal wellbeing and after my own deep thoughts. I hope you can understand, beloved co-workers and fellow scholars. I'm just tired and think this will help. Thanks for your support. I wish you the best and I hope to still see you around the office when I am on campus.

Sincerely,

S.J.