Happy (almost) holidays, readers! I apologize for my extended absence. I was looking back at my posts and realized I hadn’t blogged in 4 months, almost down to the day.
If you follow me on Instagram, you may have seen my posts on recent medical battles and coming to terms with my anxiety. To sum it up (and after visiting my neurologist yesterday), I’m doing much better! And in that, I felt that I was ready to get back to doing things I enjoy in my life.
I will be leaving soon to go back home for the holidays for a short spell. Whenever I go home, I always find myself explaining how grad school is really, really different than undergrad. It’s not just about taking some extra classes in your field, it’s about learning how to be good at failing, over and over and over again (because that’s what some parts of science are all about).
So, I thought I’d take this opportunity to discuss (probably mostly for me) just how grad school is 1) different than any previous type of schooling you may have had and 2) what makes it just so DAMN difficult all the time.
The hope here is to talk about the struggles grad students face, for those hoping to pursue graduate degrees. But also as a way to explain something that tends to be really hard to explain in between bites of lechon and arroz con leche: what I actually DO as a graduate student.
Disclaimer: I’d like to make the point here that there are a large variety of graduate degrees, and my experience below is specific to those that require a research component in order to complete. All graduate programs are difficult in their own way, this is my experience in a specifically science-focused degree program.
Graduate school isn’t just about learning more about a particular field, it’s about learning how to contribute to it
I started off my grad school career as most other grad students do, taking courses in the theory behind my field (anthropology) and learning how to frame my outlook on the world. These classes also helped me frame my potential research questions while also showing me how the scientific process has been employed before in order to test hypotheses and produce good quality work.
All of that sounds nice when you’re reading about other scientist’s work, and it may seem logical even as you read through a scientific paper. I regularly found myself saying “DUH, how ELSE would you have tested this?” I know now that my naivety and lack of experience was speaking for me at the time.
As I moved forward with my coursework during my first year, and began my Master’s project, I realized something that I was regularly told but never really internalized.
The questions that I am trying to answer have never been answered before. I don’t mean this in the way of like, “WOW, SO COOL, YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE TO HAVE THOUGHT OF THESE QUESTIONS, SO MAGICAL, SO SMART”. I mean it in the way of “Holy crap, I literally have ZERO clue what I’m doing because no one has ever asked this really, really specific question before and I have to figure out almost every step of the way in order to answer it.”
And these steps are not necessarily intuitive (and that’s why having a good advisor during your grad career is so, so important). So what do I spend most of my time doing while researching my questions? Reading, troubleshooting, fixing code, reading more, doing quality control, Googling code that will allow me to do a VERY specific function, more reading, writing, writing, writing, and producing pretty figures. And along the way, learning.
Although it is (semi) important to do well in my classes, those grades are by far the most inconsequential part of my graduate experience. Perhaps this is different in other fields, but for me and my program, the grade at the end of the semester is just a small check for the degree requirements, and one of the easier ones to obtain.
The hardest part comes from actually figuring out how to be a scientist, and no amount of coursework or good grades is going to help you with that. Yes, you’ll learn a lot of what you shouldn’t do, and examples of what you could do, but in reality, the skills you’ll need in order to effectively contribute to your field (which is the only way you’ll get that Master’s or PhD) is to do it and fail, over and over again.
This is probably the most difficult lesson I have learned (and am still learning) in grad school. That failure is part of the process. It’s not the end of the road, it’s not the end of the project, it’s a necessary step along the way. And sometimes, shit happens, and there’s really nothing you can do about it. Learning how to be ok after those moments, learning how to become resilient in this setting, is one of the most powerful attributes you can possess.
Trying to explain this concept of acceptable failure to my family is difficult. Because, unless you’ve been in a program or situation in which this was the way to learn, failing is only ever seen as a negative. Not only do I have to explain that some things haven’t gone to plan (basically almost everything), I also have to explain how that’s ok and part of the process. I do my best and hope my family understands.
Graduate school can be about much more than taking classes and doing your research, though
I’m pretty vocal about the extracurricular activities I do while also pursuing my graduate degree. I have made a few blogs posts on them, one on the outreach work I’m involved in and another on the graduate welfare committee I helped form.
I am often asked if I am required to do these in order to obtain my degree. And my answer is: well, yes and no.
Yes, because doing these activities, although they are definitely a form of extra work, keeps me happy and sane. I love doing outreach; it fills an aspect of my life that I really can’t get anywhere else, and taps into feelings of nostalgia, appreciation, and love for sharing that I don’t often have the opportunity to engage with on a regular basis. Being a happy and healthy individual makes me a better scientist, student, and human. All of these factor into my education and my graduate experience. Plus, if I hope to secure any funding through NSF, I can use these activities as proof of my commitment to the broader impacts of my work.
Not only so, but engaging in these activities also shows potential employers or collaborators that I care about more than just doing science. I care about social justice, equality, education, inclusion, underrepresented minorities, and mental health. All of this makes me a more well-rounded individual. Some employers definitely see this as a plus, and others may see this as a distraction from what you’re actually supposed to be doing, which is your research. This is important to remember as you move through your graduate education: your job is to pass your classes, complete your requirements, and do your research. Everything else is extra, which brings me to my next point.
No this is not part of my job, because there is nowhere in any of my requirements that says that I have to engage in these activities. There’s no box that gets ticked every time I talk to elementary school teachers or develop material to teach about primates, or even write this blog post. In fact, you could realistically go your entire graduate education without doing ANY extracurricular activities and, most likely, you’ll be just fine.
But, I’m just not that kind of person.
So, Maggie, what do you actually DO in grad school?
- I learn
- I teach
- I do research
- I take classes
- I engage with both the scientific community and the general public
- I make posts and write blogs to talk about the struggles I experience because I am the first in my family to pursue a PhD, and part of the first generation to go to college
- I am part of organizations specifically dedicated to mentor and help other students
- I am becoming a scientist
It’s hard to think that all of these can be wrapped up in a single experience, but they really are a part of everything that I do and everything I want to do. I feel like the ability to engage with all of this makes my job pretty great. Hard, for sure. But really great.
Have you had similar experiences in grad school? Or have they been 100% completely different? Part of writing this blog is sharing my experience, but also learning about the countless ways in which others navigate this varied space that we label “graduate school”. Drop a comment or email me. I’d love to hear from you.
Hopefully not too long until next time,
Maggie
