Sometime in late June 2015, my mom and I drove down from Pittsburgh to Charleston, SC where I would start my Phd at Clemson University. My research would be done at the Coastal Research Center in Charleston. My mom stayed a few days and then flew back to Pittsburgh. Today, May 9, 2019 I would have been given my diploma had I chosen to be there, but I chose to stay in Tampa and receive it through the mail. No ceremony, no closure, no celebratory drinks or dinner after. But then, my whole Phd has been rather unorthodox, and that's partly my own choosing. So I'm ok with leaving behind the pomp and circumstance this time.
Anyone who knows me knows this has not been an easy journey. I nearly quit many times, especially my first year. I shed many tears, I opened up for help to a lot of people and exposed my vulnerable, self-doubting, confused, and lonely self at the worst of it. I had to dig myself out of a dark depression my first year, with the help of therapy, my closest friends, and my now husband who I was very lucky to meet in my first semester. I would break down in tears in public places, without explanation. I would wander the campus looking for a place to study, that wasn't in the cavernous basement of a building where no one talked. I took solace in reading the biographies of great scientists in search of an answer--should I stay here or not? Should I stay to attain this degree, to achieve a new level of scholarly knowledge, or should I move on to something else? I learned that Gregor Mendel, the iconic monk, had episodes in his youth of deep depression, where he would stay in bed for weeks on end and feel hopeless and worthless. I learned that Charles Darwin doubted himself and his theories too. I learned from Francis Crick about his so-called "gossip test", which he used to embark on a new career from physics to biology. This test says that whatever interests you most (and what you should pursue) is what you find yourself gossiping about the most.
I gave myself until the end of my first year to decide if I should stay, and then whatever decision I made would have to be final--no going back if I decide to stay. That is obviously what I did. And now that is officially over, I have many different feelings. Relief. Anxiety. Excitement. Confusion. What comes next -- now that I've gotten to this point, where do I go? My experience doesn't give me a great feeling about returning to academia, so I'm pursuing an alternative route. With such specialized skills, it is daunting to find a position where I fill that empty niche. I know I would probably be happy doing a variety of different jobs, but of course my goal in doing 6 total years of graduate school was to be able to work as conservation biologist or to contribute to conserving biodiversity in some other capacity. So for now, I feel that I will be happy about my Phd when I know that is has made me more employable, which at this point is still questionable to me.
Don't get me wrong--I am grateful for the experience, and the knowledge I have gained, and the way I challenged my problem-solving skills and my leadership skills. Being in the field and learning about all the creatures I studied was so much fun, and is the real reason why I chose to be a biologist in the first place. On the weekends in the summer, just for fun I would go to my sites and take photos of all the insects, to document them, observe their behaviors and learn as much as I could. I had such a great group of undergrad volunteers the last two years, and being a mentor to them was something I will always treasure.
As for the less fun times, I know that they forced me to become more independent, learn from my mistakes, reflect on how to treat others more kindly, to carry out promises I make, and that is how I choose to see it, although to be completely honest I am not there yet. I was called personally on my phone and told I was not a "go-getter" by one colleague, and therefore could not get any more contacts for farmers for my research. A member of my committee also called me personally to tell me I almost failed my qualification exams a couple hours after completing them, that I was doing very poorly and I wasn't committed to my Phd. I thought, "he's right, who are you to think you can do a phd?" , as I struggled to suppress the old voices in my head that used to always tell me I wasn't smart, that I wasn't worthy or good enough to do anything great. After telling my no-nonsense husband what happened that night, he made me realize, it does hurt to receive that feedback, but what I choose to do with it is what matters. It was true that I didn't do great on the oral part of the exams, that is not my forte and I guess the nervousness got to me that day. I have worked on that ever since, and will keep needing to improve long after. I made my voice heard about the lack of involvement from my committee and my personal struggles my first year after I summoned the courage to be honest, and was met with statements like "don't expect much from your committee". With the stats on mental health issues, especially depression, among grad students, I know that I am not alone.
While I don't love to speak negatively about anyone, this was my true experience doing my Phd and I don't want to sugarcoat it. Others may have glowing reviews of theirs and I'm so happy for them. It isn't for everyone, and there should be no shame associated with quitting one if it isn't for you. I didn't wake up and feel like a different person when my dissertation was finally finished and submitted--I'm still me, just a little tougher and wiser through the experience.
The last of my bees I dropped off in Clemson
My last day on campus April 12, 2019