There are a few major things I'll remember about the Spring of 2014. All the sweet moments with Emme, of course. But I'll also remember the crazy stress (and excitement) of building a house--more on that later--and finally, the even crazier stress of having Murphy's Law apply to my Ph.D. It felt like everything that could possibly go wrong, did.
Truth be told, I had really struggled with finding my way writing a dissertation. My chair, Dr. Mays had been a very inspiring teacher. She was enthusiastic, her classes were always organic and stimulating, and she always super critical of my ideas in a way that helped me to improve...or so I thought. Because I always wanted to go into Victorian Literature and she is a well-published scholar in this area, she was the super obvious choice for my dissertation chair.
But as I struggled over a year and produced several mediocre and meandering proposals for my dissertation topic, she began to really give up on me. She wouldn't tell me what she to write on, but she wanted me to find my own way. Finally, she asked to have lunch with me after what seemed to be some encouraging reception of my latest idea. We met at this Mediterranean restaurant right by UNLV's campus. I was so excited to see this professor that I had been trying desperately to impress and please. She was kind to me but candid in a way that crushed me. In the midst of our 2 hour long lunch, she said something to me like this: "I don't think you really want to do this. I mean, you have a beautiful family, you already have a job. Do you really NEED to finish your Ph.D.??"
Need to finish?? I insisted that I always finished what I started.
"It's not that I don't think you can do this. I just don't think you want to. Your work ethic won't get you through this. Finishing your Ph.D. is really more of a calling."
She never said the words, but I couldn't help but think, "She thinks I'm a stupid, uninteresting, and incapable Mormon housewife." I remember moving my food around on my plate and barely eating it because I was afraid it would come back up.
I bawled to my mom and Shaye the whole way home from Vegas. It's funny because I feel like people think that being a student in pursuit of an advanced degree means you're super smart. I've always insisted that I just had time (because I couldn't get pregnant) and liked school. The truth is, the more schooling I've had, the dumber I feel. The more I know, the more I realize that I don't know. I'm pretty positive that this moment when my dissertation chair tried to convince me to throw in the towel and stop pursuing my doctorate was the most stupid that I have felt since Kindergarten.
Over the next few months, I poured over a new research area in my field, Neo-Victorian Studies, and came up with an idea that felt brilliant to me. The picture above is one that I took with all of the novels I was reading. I was hopeful that I had found the perfect topic and carefully crafted a proposal. I sent Dr. Mays my new proposal, and she proceeded to ignore me for a full month. After multiple follow-up emails and screened calls, I realized that I had been dumped. Suddenly I realized that this professor I had idolized really just made me feel small and weak. Her exploiting and harping on every weakness didn't push me to be better--it crippled me with fear. Something about working with her made me want to apologize for who I am. She had even been subversively combative toward my LDS faith in requiring one class of mine to read an anti-Mormon novel, "A Study in Scarlet" by Arthur Conan Doyle, and then having a student present on Joseph Smith being a con-man.
Suddenly...and not with the flair of sour grapes that you might imagine...I realized that even though this professor had given up on me and didn't want to work with me, I didn't want to work with her either. Despite her considerable academic renown as a scholar and her great intellectual mind, she was not a good mentor for me. I began to search for a few chair, but Dr. Mays began to block me. A few professors who initially showed interest in working with me ended up talking with her and then refusing to work with me.
Thus a new sort of crisis ensued for me. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. I had never thought of myself as difficult to work with. I work hard, am punctual, and take criticism in stride. I have always felt likable and relatable in a field of many introverted literature-lovers, but all of the sudden I felt like a total social pariah. I started to despair and seriously wondered if I would be able to continue. Was all of my hard work--all of the years of classes and the difficult comprehensive exams I had taken--for naught?
During this super stressful time, I remember Shaye sweetly reassuring me: "Babe, just do all that you can do. If nothing works out, we will be okay." Despite the great investment we've made in my education, he has remained comforting and non-pressuring through it all, which has been amazing.
By the grace of God, it all has worked out. I am still not totally out of the woods yet, but I have a new dissertation chair, Dr. Erwin. This professor respects me and my point of view. He has guided me as a kind friend would, and in his enabling and encouraging mentorship, my dissertation--on the first topic that I chose some 2.5 years ago--has flourished. I am still chipping away at this huge project and will have many mountains to climb in this challenge, but I am progressing. I believe I will have those 3 little initials behind my name this fall.
It's been amazing to see Heavenly Father's hand in this academic work. I'm not sure why it has been His plan for me to get my Doctorate--I mean, does he really care about classic British literature as I do?--but I have seen His help so much since this day of failure. My failure and the rejection I faced was a pretty serious intellectual crisis for me, but I felt the Lord's loving guidance in reassuring me that He has always had a plan for me and that if I relied on Him that He would guide my path and help me.
Now, as I squeeze in whatever writing time I can, I feel His love and help. I'm so grateful for this. I'm grateful for His grace and help, and the knowledge that it is okay to fail and it is okay to feel stupid. To not feel this way is to not be human. Now, I continue on my path humbled and anxiously engaged in literary analysis that no one but my committee will ever read!
4 weeks ago
0 comments:
Post a Comment