From One College Student to All the Others
If the college journey is akin to pregnancy, I’m a student-fetus at about 38 weeks old. I’ve gone through the hustle-and-bustle of undergraduate studies, including all of the fun extracurriculars, minors, fraternal organizations, and self-discovery. I loved undergrad, and I love to consider all of the fun and exciting things that the undergrads around me are experiencing right now (with the exception of the pandemic-times, of course).
When you become a master’s student, you’re really starting to figure out what you want your career to be. You probably basically know who you are (having figured that out in undergrad), so now you need to decide what that person wants to do with their time. It’s maybe a less exciting time, in my experience, but it’s when you start to understand and fulfill your professional dreams.
Doctoral studies are when things start to get really cool again. You know yourself, and you know your goals. Now it’s time to actually pursue them. You have more freedom to study what you want and pick a specialty within your field. You get to create some incredible doctoral projects that speak to things you’re passionate about, and you’ll have opportunities to hone your skills with the assistance of professors who will take you under their wings, even if it’s just for one facet of your project.
The COVID-19 pandemic hit at a very strange time in my doctoral studies. The spring 2020 shutdown was the end of the second year in a program that is designed to be finished in about three years at the earliest. In fall 2020, I’ve finished my coursework requirements. All that’s left are my comprehensive exams, lecture recital, and DMA document; the latter two combine to form the traditional doctoral dissertation.
Those who know me personally know that I am a person who likes to do everything and do it all in a timely fashion. I’ve worked part-time in jobs in my field throughout my higher education, and I’m always looking for new opportunities that are outside of the traditional curriculum. However, I don’t like to give myself the grace to let things slide or postpone things just because there’s a lot on my plate. I suspect that many university students, especially those in graduate school, are very similar.
As a doctoral student, I have done some cherry-on-top things that I know will help me down the road. I’ve participated in the Preparing Future Faculty program at my school, which includes extra courses and a mentorship to help students be ready to teach at the college level. (I would highly recommend this to any future teachers!) I’ve taught a class that I will teach again in the spring, including doing all of the planning and creating all of the course materials, which takes a lot of time. I’m currently serving on the editorial board of a publication for students and young professionals. And I’ve poured my heart and soul into designing doctoral projects that I will be proud of for the rest of my life.
I also struggle with mental health problems, including depression. Even those of you fortunate enough to not have such a diagnosis have had a taste of it this year; the pandemic has been taxing for everyone in new and unusual ways. In undergrad, I learned those problems I was facing had a name, and in my master’s, I learned how to manage (not solve) those problems. Now, as a doctoral student, I have had to face facts: I cannot push myself beyond my limits without consequences that include sacrificing my mental health. At this point, I refuse to make that sacrifice, but I know that earlier in my college life, I would have pushed myself to a breaking point.
With that in mind, I have had to realize that I will not be graduating this spring, which was my original plan. When I look at the list of things I have done during my doctoral studies, I can see that I have made choices that will contribute to my success down the road, and I have used my time wisely. Maybe in a non-pandemic world, I could have finished my projects in time to graduate this spring, but maybe not! Maybe the cherries-on-top require just a little bit more ice cream to hold them up, and one of those flavors of ice cream is called “Not overexerting yourself during a global crisis.” But there’s a voice in my head that says, “This is not acceptable; you are not good enough, and you’re failing at this.” So this letter is not just for you, but it’s also for me.
If you feel like you’ve fallen behind in your studies, or you worry that you’re not doing things the right way, please know this– you are not alone. Everybody feels like that right now. Even the tenured professors I have spoken with about this have told me the same thing– they’re not as far on their research as they wanted to be, or they’re taking things slow because of the sanctity of their own mental health. Your health is to be treasured above all other things. You can finish your studies a semester or a year or a decade later, but doing irreparable harm to your brain will change you for life.
If you’re looking at my accomplishments and my struggles right now and thinking, “That all sounds reasonable, but my situation is completely different, and I am not doing my job adequately,” I want you to know that I’m looking back at you and saying, “Your situation is exactly the same as mine, and you are doing your best, and you deserve to have the grace and forgiveness that you are offering to me.” Not only should you do your best to maintain your sanity, but you should also do work that will make yourself proud, and do the extra things that will help you down the road.
From one college student to all the others: I forgive you.
