becoming academic: Chronicles of graduate school

I became an ESOL teacher for the purpose of going out of the world and helping the people that needed it. I lost some of the meaning in my life when I started pursuing research. Since switching degree programs back, I have felt my mid-semester slump ease off. I know exactly what I’m doing now, and it’s something I am so proud of. I will be able to, after all, pursue those non-academic dreams one day after all. No need to rush the PhD. 

On October 31, my boyfriend and I saw The Bacchae at our university. We attended a talk about the show, and about theatre overall, and learned that theatre is a place of opposition, participation, dialogue, and further, in the Greek world particularly, a model for the ideal society. The Bacchae is a dangerous tragedy that makes you question your humanity. I recommend it.

On November 1, I started my own tragedy for NaNoWriMo. And, I won, writing 50,000 words in 25 days. I am so proud that I could do that among all of my schoolwork and other ambitions. I am currently plotting for what I call GraNoWriMo, Graphic Novel Writing Month, which I’d like to pursue either this month or next. I adore the time I’m spending on myself and developing these personal projects. I feel like my life is so utterly full.

I have four big milestones to finish up this semester: my final paper for cognitive development (a literature review on trauma and ESL students), my final paper for educational research (my final literature review on humanities education), and finally, a quiz and exam for Greek. I’m hoping I can get through everything quickly and feel at ease. I want to feel proud of myself, and relax until winter term.

I hope that everyone facing finals and papers now can be diligent and focused, and create things that they are utterly proud of.

October has shown itself to have been latent with possibility. I’ve applied to internships at the Smithsonian, attended career sessions in publishing, and expanded the boundaries of my graduate education to do many things for me: equip me for a career, sharpen me for several graduate school paths in different departments, allow me research options in several departments. My professors have gone out of their way for me in each department; my Greek professor offered to have an independent study with me so I can read the works that suit me best; my research professor has gone out of his way to help me develop my seminar paper into a stronger research proposal; my old philosophy professor met with me to encourage an interdisciplinary Classics degree which would allow me to specialize in ancient philosophy and pursue my love of Greek all the same. 

Adler (2016) attributes a part of the “crisis” to the most prominent model of higher education undergraduate curricula—the general education system—which “informs students that no subject is more worthy of attention than any other.” This ideology, Adler reports, deters students from taking “taxing” courses, such as the ancient languages which comprise his field of Classics. Similarly, it offers no rationale for students to enroll in humanities courses at all, since all classes in this curricula have more-the-less the same value. Adler describes the ways in which professors can navigate the system and make it convincing to enroll in humanities courses, such as designing syllabi that highlight modern relevance and applicability. But how is this relevant to the university’s role in increasing student employability in its humanities majors? A system that reduces many humanities courses to merely optional general education requirements is publicly devaluing those programs, rather than encouraging students to find the value that is in them. In contrast, establishing a wide-audience program that defends the value of the humanities and identifies specific employable skills would benefit all students seeking to increase their employability. Adler advocates a traditional core curricula model, which clearly presents the benefits of the humanities. Yale University’s Directed Studies advocates the workforce skills students develop in humanities classes and provides alumni testimonies on how those skills have contributed to their careers (Yale University, 2019). Their students have names for, and concrete examples of, the skills that make them competitive when they market themselves to employers, unlike other students of humanities. 

Unfortunately, recognition of employable skills developed by humanities students is unconvincing in solving the humanities “crisis,” as students continue to struggle to enter the workforce (Lewin, 2013). McNeil (2013) acknowledges the value of skills developed by  humanities students, but declares that “they need to demonstrate the relevance of their skill sets outside of an academic context.” A solution to that, as argued by both McNeil (2013) and Moss (2013), is weaving co-op programs into the fabrics of humanities degree programs. Co-op programs, which are commonplace in degree programs like engineering and akin to less-demanding internship opportunities, allow students to opt out of a full schedule of classes to work in professional settings full time. This context helps students to “develop their network, build their resume, and explore further career options” (McNeil, 2013). Students would no longer have to argue the case that their humanities skills make them good workers; their capacity for success in the workplace will be proven with the experience they’ve accumulated. 

Rogers (2015) argues that it is “essential” that students are offered ‘alt-ac’ (alternative-to-academia) career preparation immediately upon matriculation in graduate school in the humanities. Currently, programming such as career workshops, guest speakers, and networking opportunities outside of academia are little-to-none in humanities departments (Grafton & Grossman, 2011). These interventions would be significant because 74% of students at this point strive to be tenure-track professors (Rogers, 2015), but only approximately 6% of students will eventually obtain that goal (Schumann, 2013). This predilection towards professorship is likely contributed to the fact that there is a strong disapproval for ‘alt-ac’ plans in the academy (Schumann, 2013). An intervention that would ensure students are prepared for professional careers might consist of: creating an academic culture which encourages career preparation; providing that career preparation in the department such as programming listed above; and giving students opportunities outside of the department to actualize their goals, such as giving students space in their schedules to take relevant coursework outside of their degree area (Grafton and Grossman, 2011). 

I have identified and described three potential interventions to the humanities “crisis” in universities. However, I am left unsatisfied with the literature’s inability to show me examples these interventions in context that provide evidence (or even just probability) for potential success. The next question to pose the literature would be this: in what context might we be able to accurately gauge the potential success of wide-scale interventions like the ones proposed above?

References

Adler, E. (2016). Classics, the culture wars, and beyond. University of Michigan Press.

Directed Studies. (n.d.). Retrieved from https://directedstudies.yale.edu/.

Grafton, A. T., & Grossman, J. (2011). No more plan B: a very modest proposal for graduate programs in history. Perspectives on History, 49(5).

Lewin, T. (2013). As interest fades in the humanities, colleges worry. The New York Times, 30.

McNeil, A. (2013). Co-op and career centres and faculty collaborating to support graduate students' career success. ESC: English Studies in Canada, 39(4), 13-16.

Moss, L. (2013). Sustaining the humanities. Canadian Literature A Quarterly of Criticism and Review, 1.

Rogers, K. (2015). Humanities unbound: Supporting careers and scholarship beyond the tenure track. Digital Humanities Quarterly, 9(1).

Growing up on the outskirts of the Smithsonian Institution, I have always been captivated with the museum world and considered in an alternative to academia. This is my life raft, though one that is also competitive. I’m enrolled in a certificate program in Museum Studies; I have several internship applications in the works for spring museum positions. However, the more I develop this plan and strive to make it complete, I feel the possibility of academia shrinking, as would have likely been predicted by Zamudio-Suarez.

The more I invest in the back-up plan, the less time I have for developing myself academically. Zamudio-Suarez declares, “it’s hard to keep [students] on that main path when you admit there’s a secondary path.” I was lucky this semester to complete two abstracts already (and they are merely abstracts, not even the papers themselves) outside of my schoolwork and assistantship. If the spring brings me an internship on top of my 20-hour per week assistantship, I can’t imagine being able to pursue these extra efforts to build myself as a scholar and especially when those extra efforts are, likely, for absolutely nothing.

For scholars to have any chance at achieving the future they seek in academia, they must be the best of the best. A small step back to focus on anything else can jeopardize them, if they’re not already jeopardized by an academy that will gleefully train them, take their money, and promise them something impossible. If you refuse to go all-in, does is always mean you don’t have faith in yourself, as Zamudio-Suarez expressed? Not necessarily. But you are, in a way, giving up on that miniscule chance by not investing everything you have in your academic career. It makes me wonder: have I given up already?

The brief paper I posted yesterday was the depth of this week. I had an interesting conversation in my seminar last night, paired with a soon-to-be doctoral student studying motivation and emotions in “objective” science. While part of my will-be thesis research will include motivation in studying Classics, it was actually a pair of perfect opposites. The most interesting thing about talking to her, someone straight out of STEM, was her lack of understanding of what the “humanities” are. It was eye-opening to see that if you haven’t properly pursued the humanities, they aren’t just self-explanatory. On her end, she was surprised at my being a humanist not being able to find any value in the science classes that I took as an undergraduate. We delved into what our fields mean to us, and tried to convince each other along the way. It was reflective, I think, of what our research hopes to advocate.

I submitted my first abstract today to a Classics conference. I’ll hold off on posting my abstract until (perhaps?) good news might come. Nevertheless, it felt really good to feel apart of the larger system of academica by taking that leap. There are two more Calls for Papers that I hope to respond to; I have already written an abstract for one of them and as for the other, hopefully I can come up with a topic soon. It is a little more Classics-heavy (rather than pedagogically focused like the abstract I submitted today) and I am very nervous about my abilities. 

Campion (2018) argues that departments are contributing to the stagnation of the humanities because they are faculty-focused and not student-focused, thus ignoring learning outcomes that students want. Mills and Moulton (2017), following a synonymous hypothesis, shows that there are differences in the student’s goals and the faculty member's goals in Foreign Language departments. The problem at hand is not what is thought of as the humanities crisis described above nor is it that students cannot find employment—these are merely factors. The problem itself is that departments are not conforming to their students in order to help them meet their needs.

My degree in Classical Languages and Literatures made me a ‘better’ person—from critical thinking to decision making to articulation—skills that overwhelmingly helped me in every job I’ve held since. These soft skills are valued by employers “over the long term” (Lewin, 2013), and championed in defense of the humanities. But they don’t help grads to initially enter the job market (Lewin, 2013). While I consider studying the humanities was the best thing I have ever done, it was true: I was not adequately prepared for a job upon graduation. Was that the fault of humanities? I would argue instead that it was the fault of the institution. Universities need to step up and meet their students where they are, regardless of their field.

This problem is meaningful to me because it is my reality. As someone who may soon take the risk of pursuing a PhD in the humanities, which is warned against by professors themselves (Benton, 2009), I want to be supported by academe and society alike. I was appalled in my research to find articles boasting that we should just cut humanities departments because they do not produce jobs (Cohan, 2012). Studying the humanities is what made my life worth living again after my father passed, and I wouldn’t want anyone to lose the opportunity because of the fear that is associated with it. 

Benton, T. H. (2009). Graduate school in the humanities: Just don’t go. The Chronicle of Higher Education, 30.

Campion, C. (2018). Whither the humanities?—Reinterpreting the relevance of an essential and embattled field. Arts and Humanities in Higher Education, 17(4), 433-448.

Cohan, P. (2012). To Boost Post-College Prospects, Cut Humanities Departments. Forbes.[online][Accessed: 09/18/2019].

Lewin, T. (2013). As interest fades in the humanities, colleges worry. The New York Times, 30.

As Interest Fades in the Humanities, Colleges Worry (Levin, 2013).

Graduate School in the Humanities: Just Don’t Go (Benton, 2019).

Students’ and Instructors’ Perceived Value of Language and Content Curricular Goals (Mills & Moulton, 2017). 

The Humanities’ Fear of Judgement (Clune, 2019).

Liberal Education and the Possibility of Valuational Progress (Callard, 2017). 

The theme is obviously the connection of higher education in the context of the liberal arts and humanities. A few of these were personal readings that emerged from the rabbit hole of The Chronicle (the fact that I sneak my free time at work to explore HIgher Education news speaks for itself), and a few of them are articles pulled from from Google Scholar in relation to a current class project that is requiring me to identify a problem in education that is important to me. 

I’ve only skimmed the first few readings on my list, and thus will not pretend to reflect on them. However, the titles are nearly self-explanatory in how this is relevant to me being a Classicist-Turned-Educational-Researcher. 

Continuing through the list, Clune’s excerpt on The Chronicle was particularly interesting. It discussed how the works discussed in humanities classes are supposed to be special in some way, perhaps even “better” in a sense. But when different people have different tastes and perspectives on what is “good,” is it appropriate for professors and teachers to deem something as worthy of teaching whilst something else is not? In an increasingly multicultural American learning environment, how might we make value judgements between different cultural works, objectively? Callard’s work continued to discuss, how do we teach the “value” that is in these works? How do students, over time, see a value that they have not seen before? Is it objective, based on the perspective taught by the instructor, or is it a subjective value? I am fascinated by these questions. 

Before I turn away from my readings, I wanted to throw in another article that I found to be a nice read this week: Why Young Koreans Love to Splurge (Kim, 2019). Just an interesting take on modern culture that it is rational for millenials to make everyday purchases that most people would consider unnecessary or wastes of money (like my bubble tea obsession?) because the instant gratification adds higher life value than miserably saving for an “unattainable” future goal of buying a house, for example. Incredibly relevant to American culture. 

On Thursday (my 25th birthday), I had both an advisor meeting and my first presentation of the semester, which was just a briefing of the previous classwork. In the meeting, I indicated my interest in continuing to a PhD, whether that be Classics or Education. For the latter, my advisor was not optimistic. He said, “To get a faculty position in a College of Education, you will not be competitive without K-12 Certification and teaching experience.” It didn’t quite sound right to me, but I realized that I was mistaken when I introduced my intentions. I had told him I wanted to “continue my current research” (which is a thesis regarding secondary school reader response of classical texts in translation) as opposed to build off the implications of that research in order to study students at the undergraduate level and how they perceive Classics. It might even end up that my thesis will become comparative---we will see. Nonetheless, I realized that applying to a PhD in Education would likely be a Higher Education program. Continuing forward to my briefing, I employed several student engagement techniques in order to spark discussion. I learned these last week in a supplementary program that I participate in at my university: a University Teaching and Learning Program for students and faculty to develop their teaching in university settings. It felt nice heading a university level class, even for a few minutes. I feel more secure and determined than ever in the career path I am chasing. 

Academic Reading

What Research District Leaders Find Useful (Penuel, Farrell, Allen, Toyama, Coburn, 2018). This study examined what educational research is used by district leaders and how. The top uses of educational research are: to support district leader’s own professional learning, to provide instructional leadership, to design policies, programs, and initiatives, and to support and monitor implementation efforts. We are currently critiquing this study in small groups during class time. 

Marching Forward, Marching in Circles: A History of Problems and Dilemmas in Teacher Preparation (Schneider, 2017). This essay provides a historical account of teacher preparation in the United States. The history is split into four eras: Teaching Unregulated (1800-1860), Early Bureaucracy (1860-1920), Late Bureaucracy (1920-1980), and Resurgent Deregulation (1980 - Present). Throughout the descriptions of the eras, Schneider poses problems and dilemmas of teacher preparation over time. The difference between problems and dilemmas is that problems and be solved, dilemmas can only be managed. For example, a problem in Era I was that standards for teacher preparation were null; this was fixed over time with increasing standards. But the associated dilemma is that we must balance with these standards with teaching remaining an accessible career, lest we are left with a shortage of teachers. Personally, I enjoyed the articles historical methods. It inspired me to start thinking about writing a similar piece to highlight the challenges of classical education in the United States, particularly in the university setting. I have been interested in writing a higher education piece about the state of the humanities Classics for awhile now, and I think this would be a great starting point.

The Case for Self-Care as a Core Practice for Teaching (Peercy, 2019). Peercy highlights the particular challenges of novice ESOL teachers in secondary schools. Their unique struggles include having to work with students that are emotional traumatized, prove themselves and their worth in the school system, and counteract the perceptions of other professionals, which frequently will use ESOL teachers for grunt work. Just coming out of my first year of teaching ESOL in the private sector, this article was particularly interesting to me. It encouraged me to think about the struggles that I had as a novice teacher, namely: a feeling of dispensability as a teacher, a lack of trust and support in staff, and expectations for unpaid administrative work and preparation. I’m curious to how much research has been done on other private sector teachers. In seminar on Thursday, Peercy herself spoke to us via webcam and discussed her research methods, qualitative and inclusive of self-study. The most interesting part of the conversation was that she and the participants “co-generated knowledge” involved in this study. Until the teachers involved in the study started discussing what was happening with other teachers, they didn’t necessarily realize that self-care was what they each were missing to counteract their stress.

I also read Piaget’s Theory of Development and I also have a few extra associated readings that I have not attended to yet. I will likely follow up later on these, but what I will mention now is that I was really challenged by Piaget. I have never read anything in the field of development, psychology, cognition, etc., etc.! 

In terms of Greek this week, we translated an adaption of Herodotus. I fervorously studied principal parts and subjunctive forms for yesterday’s quiz...but it ended up just being more Herodotus. 

Personal Reading

Empress (Shan Sa). I’m about halfway through this novel. At first I was disinterested by it, but the pace picked up pretty quickly and the dynamics of the Inner Court during the Tang Dynasty became fascinating to me. I’m pretty hooked on it now.

The Academic Self (Donald Eugene Hall). I’ve only read the introduction, but I’m also hooked on this read. So far, it’s just been a commentary on the struggles of life in academia. That’s of course relevant to me, so I’m looking forward to continuing through and posting some reflections every once in awhile. 

“Gin, Sex, Malaria, and the Hunt for Academic Prestige” (Charles King). I loved this excerpt from King’s book regarding the adventures of early anthropologists and how their studies influenced not just anthropology, but social science at large. My biggest takeaway from this reading is the length of which an academic’s work is an extension of his or herself. Margaret Mead wrote in a letter: “I’m more than ever convinced that the only logical place for the anthropologist is in the field — most of the time — for the first ten years, or even fifteen years of his anthropological life.” To me, Mead’s use of “logical” indicates urgency, and this reminds me of myself; I have often felt an urgency to needing to be on campus, in classrooms, among library shelves. As anthropologists must be in the field, academics must be in the academy.

As a Classicist lost inside an Education program, I was scared to meet with my faculty advisor. What if my research isn’t interesting enough? Relevant enough? Important enough? What if I’m not permitted to continue Greek? Or take classes to my benefit? What if I’m not welcome? Accepted? Liked? Supported? But, immediately upon entering my advisor’s office, I was lauded for my initiative, engaged in about my research interests, and given autonomy over my coursework. I foresaw a dark academy, but was met with only daylight. 

My classes this week were not just relevant, but fascinating. If I ever had had to picture a graduate classroom, it would be exactly as these are: long tables with students on either side, facing each other as a means of engagement; hours of intelligent discussion, reflection, idea-sharing, growth; a trusting autonomy of research and projects; professors wearing blazers, suspenders, or t-shirts; the implicit notion that our research is valuable and that we are all working to expand a universal knowledge. I felt it on my very first day: those classrooms are like home; the academy is like home. 

I’m currently working on my first big research project, a paper to submit to the upcoming CAMWS conference. I am writing about pedagogy of Classics-in-translation in secondary school classrooms and how graphic novels can be used to engage students of diverse backgrounds and abilities. There is an underlying intention of introducing how we can build equity in English/Language Arts classrooms by the incorporation of different materials. I almost felt overwhelmed by the vast amount of research that I am encountering and considering, but I did not and will not let myself face discouragement. This is, with certainty, the nature of the rest of my life. I am prepared to go forward. 

And as I go forward, my intentions and expectations for myself are the following: 

Exceed any requirements posed by an instructor, assignment, syllabus

Prepare for each class, discussion, etc. with an open and expansive mindset; be clever

Interact with everyone and everything intentionally, which specifically means not giving attention to things that don’t deserve it (namely: people that I used to know on campus that I bump into, social media---which I’ve cleaned excessively for this purpose, and negative emotions and doubts)

Account for everything in your planning

Be better than I ever was (just like @taylorswift is)