Posts Tagged ‘PhD’

What NOT to Ask Your Professor

Dear Stu­dents,

I wanted to offer you some advice. If you have to ask the fol­low­ing ques­tions be pre­pared for your professor’s head to explode.

*Do I really have to buy the book?
*Do I have to actu­ally read in this class?
*Do I even have to come to class?
*Can’t you just give us all the answers for the exams?
*Are you, like, even old enough (or aren’t you like REALLY too old) to teach this class?
*Dead­lines are kinda hard for me, could these be optional deadlines?

So, word to the wise think these sorts of ques­tions in your head.

Do NOT ask your pro­fes­sor them, prior to the explod­ing head her/his answers will NOT be ones that you want to hear.

In addi­tion, to answers you never wanted to hear & an explod­ing head your pro­fes­sor may acci­den­tally lob an eraser in your gen­eral direc­tion. I mean how could it not hap­pen? THE PROF’S HEAD JUST EXPLODED!!

And for those won­der­ing, trust me when I tell you that the explod­ing head thing is not a pretty sight. It also leaves a nasty stain on your clothes.

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January 1 2010: New Year, New Decisions

The New Year starts here with Win­ter in full swing. The trees out­side my house are bare with only the Ever­greens hold­ing onto the out­ward signs of life. Life for the other trees is not vis­i­ble to oth­ers but it is there because it is wait­ing in the silence of the morn­ing, in the busi­ness of the day, and in the soft sounds of night to reveal itself in the Spring.

In many ways the hid­den nature of the life to come out­side my door expresses what I am feel­ing. I have a lot of deci­sions to make. I fin­ished my degree, I have it, & now what? I am not so sure any­more. When I started I assumed I’d go for a Tenure Track posi­tion and a Research Uni­ver­sity. I would pub­lish, attend con­fer­ences, and teach. The lat­ter I have done even through­out grad school, I’ve done well, & could still cre­ate in this capac­ity regard­less of other deci­sions I make in my life. Yet, I am not sure any­more if acad­e­mia is my home & I am not sure if it ever really was. But leav­ing what I thought would come next is not an easy deci­sion. Like um, there are BILLS. A Ph.D. it turns out doesn’t get you much by itself, minus debt.

So, yea it’s a New Year. One full of pos­si­bil­i­ties, like every new moment. How­ever, look­ing for­ward seems less clear to me. I know there is a new life with its roots in my fam­ily ready to reveal itself for me, but I also know that I have to met it 1/2 way. Like the joke my Hubby read the other day in our parish bul­letin (which I’ve read/heard done a vari­ety of ways).

A guy named Joe finds him­self in dire trou­ble. His busi­ness has gone bust and he’s in seri­ous finan­cial trou­ble. He’s so des­per­ate that he decides to ask God for help. He begins to pray…

God, please help me, I’ve lost my busi­ness and if I don’t get some money, I’m going to lose my house as well, please let me win the lotto”.

Lotto night comes and some­body else wins it.

Joe again prays…

God, please let me win the lotto! I’ve lost my busi­ness, my house and I’m going to lose my car as well”.

Lotto night comes and Joe still has no luck. Once again, he prays…

My God, why have you for­saken me?? I’ve lost my busi­ness, my house, and my car. My wife and chil­dren are starv­ing. I don’t often ask you for help and I have always been a good ser­vant to you. PLEASE just let me win the lotto this one time so I can get my life back in order … ”

Sud­denly there is a blind­ing flash of light as the heav­ens open and Joe is con­fronted by the voice of GOD himself:

JOE, MEET ME HALF WAY ON THIS ONE … BUY A FREAKING TICKET!”

I’ve writ­ten here before I love the cre­ative out­let of writ­ing, I love to cre­ative, and I love being with my fam­ily. But I am not sure how to decide what the next step is sup­posed to be. I know I can’t sit around think­ing it will hap­pen with­out effort on my part.

Any­one else ever sit on the edge of a big deci­sion like this? How did you fig­ure out what to do? I could some advice as the year before me stretches out.

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It’s Official: Mom, Ph.D.

The other day I arrived in my Depart­ment, after feel­ing that my nerves were going to push me over the edge. That edge where you fall into an abyss of ran­dom def­i­n­i­tions and infor­ma­tion float­ing around your head but none of it makes ANY SENSE AT ALL!! ALL morn­ing long & by all morn­ing I mean ALL MORNING. Because “the time” had arrived. It was time to defend my dis­ser­ta­tion, the long road was ending.

I met with my adviser before the big event started. My adviser gave me great advice, remind­ing me that I wouldn’t have made it to this point if I wasn’t ready. Darn log­i­cal rea­son­ing. Of course my hus­band had told me the same thing. In fact, he told me about a MILLION times that morn­ing alone. But what does he know? He has to tell me those things, it was in our vows. I believe right after the line that went some­thing to the affect of “And always tell you that your butt looks great in those pants.”

Then it was time to make my way around the hall and into the room. Oh, “the room” that sounds omi­nous doesn’t it? Like I was on a walk toward the exe­cu­tion cham­ber, you know “the room.” But it wasn’t that intense. Unless power point is like a slow death.

Then the rest of the com­mit­tee arrived & there were actu­ally audi­ence mem­bers. Which I have to admit was SO WONDERFUL!! To have peo­ple from my Depart­ment, fel­low stu­dents, show up to sup­port me was just amaz­ing. Def­i­nitely helped put my nerves at ease.

The process itself took about an hour & 1/2. It was pretty smooth. I didn’t throw up, ran­domly fall over into an abyss of ran­dom def­i­n­i­tions or infor­ma­tion and I didn’t pass out from the sheer mag­ni­tude of hav­ing to actu­ally sound coher­ent after not sleep­ing for the last 2 nights. Thank good­ness for kids who decide to NOT sleep right before a big moment like your dis­ser­ta­tion defense, eh? What would I have done with­out that lack of sleep?

My com­mit­tee did ask chal­leng­ing ques­tions, but they were fair ques­tions. I was pre­pared for them, I know my research back & forth, noth­ing was asked that was too left field even if they did chal­lenge me to push myself fur­ther. I can hon­estly write that I respect my com­mit­tee immensely & I appre­ci­ate the sup­port they gave me through­out the dis­ser­ta­tion process.

Except I’m going to admit it was a lit­tle anti-climatic when all was said & done. Yea, I fin­ished & it’s offi­cial but still I was hop­ing for some­thing a lit­tle bit more. Really, when I think about it a lit­tle more, I blame the 80s for the let-down.

See, I was hop­ing that at some point I would have been forced to show who I was in a dance off. I even thought it out ahead of time. It would start with me being told “You don’t belong here. This place isn’t made to accept peo­ple like you.” Then, I’d have to prove them wrong. You know, like Elec­tric Booga­loo style, prove to the world I DO belong. I then would rip off the sleeves of my shirt or my shirt would mag­i­cally go all off shoul­der ala Jen­nifer Beal in Flash­Dance & then off stage music would play. As the music starts & my sassy style was front & cen­ter I’d express myself in street meets ivory tower dance moves.

But alas that never hap­pened. Instead every­one was nice, I knew my work (I mean after all it’s MY work), and I passed. When I got home I received a bal­loon & a very lovely card at the front door from my hus­band and kids, along with lots of hugs & kisses. That did kind of make up for the lack of a dance off. It’s a really nice bal­loon after all.

TCH_10101

What can I say? Except thanks for the love & sup­port, now feel free to call me Dr. Mommy.

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The Kick in My Step