Reflections on PhD Year 2

I’m going to be…a third year? That’s crazy. I just got here.

In my final year as an undergrad, I consulted a range of people for advice about whether I should pursue grad school. Some students warned me about the time investment and mental toll. Other students were having an easier time. The professors mostly said it would go by fast. I guess they are a skewed sample though … considering they’re the subset of people who completed a PhD and liked academia enough to stay in it.

While I do acknowledge the time and mental energy that a PhD requires, I think I chose the right path for myself. Graduate school has fostered significant growth in my patience, open-mindedness, and overall thinking process. So with that, I’m going to outline a few lessons that stood out from this past year.

Set realistic goals and standards

Through my increased interaction with industry and other institutions, I have come to believe that whatever career I pursue (in academia or otherwise) will be similarly frustrating and draining at times. It’s just a matter of which challenges I’m willing to face, and in what context. Thanks for that tip, Mark Manson.

I’ve learned to acknowledge that every institution and every role will have its flaws, and while I’d like to be able to resolve all of them, that’s probably impossible. But that doesn’t mean we should not strive for improvement—because the goal is not to reach a point of perfection, but to improve the existing conditions for those who the institution/system/etc. currently impacts.

The same realism applies to our own ambitions. We hold ourselves to too high of a standard, hoping to make a large-scale impact on society. While it’s admirable to aim that high, most of us will not reach that level, so for my mental sanity, I like to think more in terms of the impact that I can make on those within proximity to me. Because those are the outcomes I will see most immediately, which will gratify me sooner and motivate me to keep going.

Create the space you want to take up

I once told a friend “I don’t have imposter syndrome because I am actually an imposter,” to which she responded, “Meryl, that’s literally the imposter syndrome talking.” I’m still not convinced I’m wrong. Most advice about imposter syndrome has the goal of convincing you that you are NOT an imposter. That you belong. That you’ve earned it. That you deserve to be here. Maybe that works for some people. But if you’re as stubborn as I am, it doesn’t. It’s easy to feel inadequate when you’re comparing yourself to peers, especially the shiny high-achievers who seem to have never-ending success. I have a habit of stalking personal websites (I mean, why else are they there?) and looking at the lists of publications and awards. It’s easy to forget the work, the time, the rejections, the revisions that went into each one when they’re condensed to a single bullet point. We also overlook the fact that most opportunities are not handed to you. In fact, sometimes they’re not even offered. You often have to create them.

In my recap from last year, one piece of advice I gave was to talk to a lot of people—I still stand by this. It’s important to have a range of mentors beyond your advisor, varying in field, experience, sector, etc. Several of the people I cold emailed are now mentors of mine whom I feel comfortable consulting for advice, help, or ideas.

My friends tell me I’m good at networking. I am not. I stumble on my words. I talk for longer than I should. At most 30% of my “coffee chats” go well. And even fewer have actually culminated in anything beyond a friendly interaction. I’ve had more awkward conversations than I can count, several of which I left feeling like I had made a complete fool of myself.

To my friends who say it’s hard for them to do this because of social anxiety, I have social anxiety too. But I keep pursuing cold conversations because it has worked out on occasion. And while I have become better at talking to strangers, I have more so become used to the awkwardness. Do I like it? Not at all. But exposure therapy works. The other person is surely not ruminating on the awkward exchange as much as you are. They have probably moved on with their day because they have other things to do than to think about you, no offense.

In the few times where these cold conversations have worked out, I’ve gotten some really great things—mentors, a research assistantship, a paper, a friend, a party invite. And because I had to proactively seek out conversations, and these opportunities and relationships were not offered to me first, I often feel like I have barged into spaces where I don’t belong and made connections that I don’t deserve.

So say I am an imposter. Then what? What am I going to do about it? I’ve decided to take full advantage of the imposter benefits.

Sometimes I forget I already have a degree. I feel like I know nothing. I sit in rooms I don’t think I belong in, talking to people who have no business talking to me—and yet they keep doing it anyway. And that makes me giddy. Isn’t it impressive I have pushed into spaces I’m underqualified for? Isn’t it amazing I have somehow tricked so many smart, accomplished people into thinking I’m worth their time? How long until they realize I’m an imposter?

I’ve given up on getting rid of that feeling that’s always lingering, so I’ll enjoy these benefits for as long as I’m able to hide my imposter identity. I’ll keep attending these meetings, talking to these people before they realize I don’t belong or that I’m incompetent. I’ll keep acting like I know what I’m doing and feigning confidence when I share my ideas. I’ll acknowledge mistakes and pretend like I’m not fazed by them. For as long as they don’t realize I’m an imposter who has created this space for myself, I will stay and put in the work and keep taking the opportunities that I don’t deserve.

FYI I’m being satirical, if that wasn’t clear.

Give yourself grace

I’ve gotten better at not feeling guilty about rest, and I think that makes the time I spend not resting much more productive. “Work hard, play hard” is a pretty healthy mentality. Some of my most productive friends go clubbing regularly. As I recently learned from this year’s CHI conference, researchers party hard. While that’s not my typical pastime, I make sure to regularly spend time hanging out with friends, baking, or watching TV. Keep a loose schedule of work hours, but allow yourself flexibility. Strict rules often backfire and lead to burnout.

Now that I’m taking fewer classes, I’ve had the flexibility this year to work when I want to and relax when I want to. Sometimes this means I’m baking cookies at 10 am on a Tuesday, but this go-with-the-flow attitude has worked well for me.

I am impressed by the amount of growth I’ve observed in myself this past year—in terms of productivity as well as mindset. I still call myself a “baby” and “not a real adult”, but the more “adults” I encounter, the more I realize no one really knows what they’re doing. And honestly, that’s probably for the best lol. Thanks for following me along on my meandering.

Peace ✌︎︎

Meryl