PhD Anxieties & Enjoying the Moment

Last week I went to a forum for prospective PhD students. We spoke with students currently enrolled in PhD programs, as well as young professors who recently graduated from PhD programs. While there was positive feedback from most, there are inevitably some rather gloomy details about graduate school that tend to sometimes weigh out the good, including (but not limited to) the extreme stress of obtaining a degree and writing a dissertation, a very bad job market, very competitive PhD programs, and a lack of tenure teaching jobs. While I am painfully aware of such realities, the forum brought so many “What if?” questions to the forefront of my mind.

I came back to my apartment and called my mother (aka Ultimate Source of Wisdom and Encouragement) and she said, "Are you enjoying what you're doing right now? If so, let that be enough." Although at first it seemed like overly simple and sentimental advice, when I sat down at my kitchen table that night to write a paper, her words returned to me. Am I enjoying what I am doing right now? Right in this moment? Well, yes. Yes, I am. 

I am reading many new books--some that I love, some that I don't love, but all that I appreciate. I am being exposed to new sets of ideas that can inform my life both within and beyond the walls of the university. I am engaging in deep discussions about race, gender, and sexuality with like-minded people. I am becoming a better writer and researcher. I am writing about the relationship between ideology, culture, and literature. I am developing a new vocabulary. I am being taught how to be an active and critical reader. My mind is being stretched and I am learning something new every day. And I am doing that all for free, because I’ve been blessed with complete tuition remission. How many people have the privilege of taking two years of their life to dedicate solely to reading, writing, researching, and discussing that which is meaningful to them? There may be no other time in my life that I can do something like this, and some never get the luxury at all.

It dawned on me that even if I don’t get my PhD—even if I were to go in a completely different direction after my MA degree—I am still blessed with the unique experience to study what I love, with no financial hardships. PhD or no PhD, I still graduate as a richer person, equipped with a broader vocabulary and knowledge, as well as a unique set of experiences that both challenged and fulfilled me. Most importantly, here in this very moment (all that's truly guaranteed anyway) I am enjoying what I am doing. And for now, that's enough.

Election Reflections

This past Tuesday, I sat in my apartment and watched as the words, "President Obama Re-Elected!" flash across my television screen. I voted for President Obama months ago via absentee-ballot, and since then had no other choice but to wait patiently while my fellow Americans decided who should be our next Commander in Chief. After watching Mitt Romney's concession and the president's acceptance speech, I tossed and turned in bed that night until close to 4am reflecting on everything that I learned this election season.

I learned that politics are personal. I think I always knew this, but it became even more profound during this election with issues such as gay marriage and abortion/women's health being important topics in political discourse. There were moments when I read Facebook statuses from my conservative friends about gay marriage and I would feel mentally and physically drained, exhausted from arguing and defending the rights of my gay loved ones. I was reminded that as much as we like to separate ourselves from "political" issues, we are forever attached to them. The personal is political. It's tied to everything important to us: our religions, our experiences, our present and future lives, and our values concerning life, death, faith, ethics, sexuality, and work. The immense significance that such topics can hold reveals why it is so important to make sure we talk about them, and especially that we talk about them in constructive ways.

This election taught me how grateful I am for intelligent and respectful debate. I have many people who disagree with me, but only a few who can disagree with me constructively and politely. I have a few Republican/moderate friends in particular--Gene and Rachel--who are always willing to dialogue with me, share ideas with me, and listen to my point of view. I must admit that sometimes it's nice to sit around with my most passionate liberal friends and rant about how "utterly stupid" we think Republicans are. Sometimes you need that. But, at the end of the day, we all know that while such dialogue is momentarily gratifying, it's not productive; it doesn't make me or anyone else better. The kind of discussions I have with people like Gene and Rachel, however, hold potential to do something powerful: they can force us to see another perspective and/or force us to are-evaluate our own. I especially experienced the latter this election season. While most if not all of my ideas stayed the same even while being put under question, they did nonetheless actually strengthen after being tested. I walked away with a renewed commitment to my own values. I would hope that even if I did not change my conservative friends' minds, that they too felt a deeper, more thoughtful and reasonable investment in their own principles. 

Additionally, I learned that I am still a believer. Obviously, I am careful not to fall into the "One Leader Solves All" trap, because I know that neither Barack Obama nor Mitt Romney have the power to single handedly destroy or fix an entire country. I know that true world-changers are not politicians, but rather, activists who receive a hell of a lot less money and fame. However, despite this realization, I am still a believer in the power and ability of my government to make and maintain positive change. I still believe that I can elect leaders who will defend my rights and the rights of my loved ones. I am still honored to be able to have the freedom to participate in this messy yet wonderful democracy.

And lastly, I learned that this "belief" can be rewarded, because when I woke up on November 7th 2012, I had more reason to hope in my society than I did the day before. After that election night, I had four more years of a president who I believe is doing good things for my country. I had more women representing me in Congress than ever in American history. A record number of young people showed up at the polls and voted. A record number of Latino, African American, and female voters showed up at the polls and voted. My gay friends could get married in three new states--Maryland, Maine, and Washington. For the first time in American history, gay marriage was passed by popular vote. The first openly gay female senator was elected. Elizabeth Warren was elected. And, Todd Akin--the man who made some brutally stupid comments about rape and pregnancy earlier in the year--lost reelection by a landslide.

I told a friend recently that I will have so much more time to dedicate to other things now that the election over. She looked at me and said, "You're freaking insane." She's right. I am freaking insane for arguing over the same issues again and again with people who may never change their minds. I am insane for reading the articles, the opinion columns, the political comics, and the polls. I am insane for believing that a flawed yet powerful system can create positive change. I am insane for looking forward to doing it all over again in 2016; not because the process in itself is enjoyable, but simply because I still hold onto the irrational yet self-sustaining hope of this democracy: that my vote and my voice can somehow make a difference.