"The way you put it all out there - how you're open about your challenges and successes and everything in between. I admire that."
Of course, I was both extremely flattered and flustered by these kind words uttered by my PhD cohortmate last week. The former because, who wouldn't be touched by such generosity, and the latter because, well such generosity. Here's why: there's nothing particularly unique or special about the challenges and successes and everything in between concerning my experiences as a first-year doctoral student thus far. And in many ways, I have it easier than many of my cohortmates, or at least my day-to-day involves fewer immediate demands or dependents to balance alongside my studies; I have no idea how classmates effectively navigate school needs (i.e., class, studying/homework, RA- or TA-ships) and raising children, taking care of their parents, etc. Objectively, any sacrifices I've had to make to date also pale in comparison with others; my heart hurts whenever I think about how so many classmates are pursuing their scholastic and professional dreams while their spouses, children, and families are literally continents away.
From my perspective, there's so much strength to be found in vulnerability - not only for yourself, but also for the people around you. The ability to recognize one's flaws or weaknesses or challenges and actively try to improve on them however you can. The willingness to genuinely apologize for your mistakes, to admit when you're wrong. The understanding that, by acknowledging that you want or need support beyond your own capacities, you're paving a better path forward - and not being weak. In so many situations and places - particularly for women - showing any kind of vulnerability is automatically cast as a negative trait, an act that needs to be squashed. I know numerous talented people who - due to whatever circumstances or reasons - would rather bend over backwards, walk over hot coals, etc. than say "I'm sorry" with no buts, follow-up explanations, or other types of apology hedging. In a similar vein, I truly believe there's strength in being open about if various experiences have been challenging and how they've been overcome. Again, not only for yourself, but for others as well.
It took me years - nearly a decade - to finally, fully believe that I too could be smart enough, talented enough, capable enough to join the ranks of prospective PhDs. The people I knew pursuing doctorates seemed to effortlessly learn and excel; to apply and be accepted for awe-inspiring internships, fellowships, jobs, etc.; to know what and how and where they wanted to go and be. I existed in, or at least I thought I occupied, a different orbit of intellect and indecisiveness. Yet in more recent years, they - and others, so many brave others - have talked or written about their challenges and insecurities in the same breath or page as their successes and achievements. It turns out that we're all more similar than different - and this kind of understanding needs to be shared more often and with more people. As I talk with many early career professionals (again, particularly women), too many mental barriers remain between where they are and the places they'd like to be. So, if I can do anything, literally anything at all, to help one person find their strength amid their vulnerabilities...well, I can't imagine many things better than that.
Today I learned...
I still remember some tricks of the trade for R, which means I retained some modicum of coding knowledge gained in CSSS501 and the half of CSSS503 I took last year. Thank you Jeff Arnold!
Today I'm grateful for...
Annie Haakenstad, a woman who constantly inspires me and then makes me cackle with glee. It makes me so happy that we can have serious discussions about research, grad school, and career aims followed by gchat-based /ponystream(s) and testing of what combinations of "ha ha" elicit giggling chickens to pop up. I sometimes I think about what my life would be like if we hadn't been officemates for ~2.5 years and then I stop doing that because life's too short to ruminate on such terrible what-ifs.
Today's best part...
Was a dinner-working night with Roy Burstein. Few people are more enjoyable as both friends and colleagues as Roy, and well, I feel pretty darn lucky to know Dr. Burstein.
Of course, I was both extremely flattered and flustered by these kind words uttered by my PhD cohortmate last week. The former because, who wouldn't be touched by such generosity, and the latter because, well such generosity. Here's why: there's nothing particularly unique or special about the challenges and successes and everything in between concerning my experiences as a first-year doctoral student thus far. And in many ways, I have it easier than many of my cohortmates, or at least my day-to-day involves fewer immediate demands or dependents to balance alongside my studies; I have no idea how classmates effectively navigate school needs (i.e., class, studying/homework, RA- or TA-ships) and raising children, taking care of their parents, etc. Objectively, any sacrifices I've had to make to date also pale in comparison with others; my heart hurts whenever I think about how so many classmates are pursuing their scholastic and professional dreams while their spouses, children, and families are literally continents away.
From my perspective, there's so much strength to be found in vulnerability - not only for yourself, but also for the people around you. The ability to recognize one's flaws or weaknesses or challenges and actively try to improve on them however you can. The willingness to genuinely apologize for your mistakes, to admit when you're wrong. The understanding that, by acknowledging that you want or need support beyond your own capacities, you're paving a better path forward - and not being weak. In so many situations and places - particularly for women - showing any kind of vulnerability is automatically cast as a negative trait, an act that needs to be squashed. I know numerous talented people who - due to whatever circumstances or reasons - would rather bend over backwards, walk over hot coals, etc. than say "I'm sorry" with no buts, follow-up explanations, or other types of apology hedging. In a similar vein, I truly believe there's strength in being open about if various experiences have been challenging and how they've been overcome. Again, not only for yourself, but for others as well.
It took me years - nearly a decade - to finally, fully believe that I too could be smart enough, talented enough, capable enough to join the ranks of prospective PhDs. The people I knew pursuing doctorates seemed to effortlessly learn and excel; to apply and be accepted for awe-inspiring internships, fellowships, jobs, etc.; to know what and how and where they wanted to go and be. I existed in, or at least I thought I occupied, a different orbit of intellect and indecisiveness. Yet in more recent years, they - and others, so many brave others - have talked or written about their challenges and insecurities in the same breath or page as their successes and achievements. It turns out that we're all more similar than different - and this kind of understanding needs to be shared more often and with more people. As I talk with many early career professionals (again, particularly women), too many mental barriers remain between where they are and the places they'd like to be. So, if I can do anything, literally anything at all, to help one person find their strength amid their vulnerabilities...well, I can't imagine many things better than that.
Today I learned...
I still remember some tricks of the trade for R, which means I retained some modicum of coding knowledge gained in CSSS501 and the half of CSSS503 I took last year. Thank you Jeff Arnold!
Today I'm grateful for...
Annie Haakenstad, a woman who constantly inspires me and then makes me cackle with glee. It makes me so happy that we can have serious discussions about research, grad school, and career aims followed by gchat-based /ponystream(s) and testing of what combinations of "ha ha" elicit giggling chickens to pop up. I sometimes I think about what my life would be like if we hadn't been officemates for ~2.5 years and then I stop doing that because life's too short to ruminate on such terrible what-ifs.
Today's best part...
Was a dinner-working night with Roy Burstein. Few people are more enjoyable as both friends and colleagues as Roy, and well, I feel pretty darn lucky to know Dr. Burstein.
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