In my third year of graduate school, after getting some positive response to my advice for prospective graduate students, I decided to write a second essay, advising current graduate students on staying happy and self-confident in grad school. As with the other, I don’t dare edit it at this remove, so here it is in its original form.
My Thoughts on Getting Through
As I see it, there are three main goals to graduate school. First is to increase your knowledge, do original work, and write a thesis. Second is to make contacts and start forming professional relationships. Third is to survive with self-esteem and confidence intact. This little essay is devoted to number three.
The first thing to remember is that grad school is hard and it’s meant to be hard. That’s why most of the population doesn’t do it. So, there will be times for everyone, barring those who possess genius or an excessively thick skin, when they feel like morons. I call those my “housewife days” – days when I feel like being a housewife would be infinitely more fun than what I am doing at the moment. They always pass, though, and then I get excited (even if only at a low level) by the math again. If they don’t pass, that’s when to seriously consider getting out of grad school. Actually, everyone should seriously consider getting out of grad school on a regular basis. It helps remind you that you are here by your own choice and can leave at any time, which is liberating and uplifting even without any action – it relieves any feelings of indentured servitude. It also might remind you how great it is compared to the real world (again, if you feel quite the opposite, you should consider leaving. Do not punish yourself unduly; I’m sure you haven’t committed that many sins).
Most people who go to graduate school have always excelled academically, and it is difficult for us to avoid having our self-esteem at least partially attached to our schoolwork. Then when the moron episodes hit, they can send us into a deep funk. (and not the good Sly and the Family Stone kind) The only ultimate cure for moron episodes is to get good enough at your field that nothing throws you completely for a loop, and get accustomed enough to speaking, teaching, and dealing with others in your field that you don’t feel dumb in those situations. For those of us who would like help before we retire, though, I have only one suggestion. Advisors, close your eyes: do extracurriculars. Do something you’re good at for sure, to keep you connected to the non-student side of yourself. Get involved in your church, join a music group or take dancing lessons. Universities usually have activities for cheap, or venture out into the community. My sister is going to learn some medieval dances and rapier fighting through her local chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronisms. A couple of our department members have joined the women’s boxing club. And every community has volunteer work that needs doing.
Incidentally, a thick skin is an attribute you might work on acquiring – in the sense of not taking academic criticism personally. I have no advice on how to cultivate such a thing, though.
Extracurriculars are not a cure, however, and the rest of this is about damage control. A grad student friend of mine told me an interesting statistic recently. I forget the exact numbers, but a study found that somewhere upward of 90% of grad students spend the majority of their time emotionally in “crisis mode”. She liked that statistic because it made her feel less alone in her anxiety.
With that idea in mind let’s talk about support groups. Internet-based support groups for graduate students do exist, including ones specific to particular groups (by discipline or for women or minorities). I can’t rate any of them (it seems a personal matter anyway), though, because I fortunately have a wonderful built-in support group here in my program. The other students in your program are the best choice whenever possible – they know exactly what you are going through. From my advanced age of being in the third year of studies, I can tell you that when you are in your first year, doing coursework, and up through your candidacy or qualifying exams, older students are wonderful support. They know what you’re going through, as do your peers, but they are not insane with the same work and they also have first-hand knowledge of the light at the end of the tunnel. Here’s something to try: when you’re feeling completely overwhelmed, go into a sympathetic older student’s office and make frustrated noises, such as yelling “argh!” This in itself is a great stress reducer, but will often lead to a conversation about the current state of your life, which is the ultimate goal.
Moving on: post-candidacy, I’ve found that my peers, those within about a year of me, are the best support. We’ve branched out into different fields, which eliminates any competitive aspect that may have been there originally, but we’re hitting the same problems in our research. We all have to deal with our advisors in some productive way, which includes finding time to meet and getting satisfactory answers to our questions. We also are experiencing similar frustration with difficult or unclear papers to read. I spend probably more time than is wise talking with my officemates about the troubles of the day, but I think it is helping all of us with our mental health.
That’s all I have to say on the matter – everything listed above is from my thoughts or the thoughts of others I’ve talked with on the subject. I’d have to have a lot deeper understanding of human consciousness to write much more, and the only thing I do have is a deep experience of what it is like to be a graduate student. But I hope it helped, if only to let you know your problems are universal.