The grad school situation
I don't remember anymore how much -- if anything -- I've written about the problems with the grad school application process. I apologize in advance if some of this is repetitive.
GRE: Essentially, I got in the 92nd percentile in verbal, 75th in quantitative, and 84th in analytical writing. Decent, all things considered. It's more than enough to make the minimum requirements for the school that hasminimum requirements (UK in Lexington mandates 1000 combined verbal and quantitative, and I made 1360 total), but that doesn't guarantee anything.
Applications are in, and it's a matter of putting finishing touches on letters of intent and getting those sent in. I'm glad now that I hadn't actually turned those in yet, for reasons I'll explain in a moment.
One of the professors who had agreed months back (we're talking late April, early May) to write a letter of recommendation only got back to me a few days ago, despite the fact that I've been sending gentle messages for the past month asking what he needed from me other than stamped addressed envelopes. It would be a lie to say that the period during which I was waiting to hear from him was not nerve-racking. Granted, it was my fault for waiting until two months before the deadline to start contacting him again, but the three weeks of not hearing from him led to a minor freak-out during which I interpreted the situation as the Universe's way of telling me that I had no right to even bother.
The three professors I'd developed the closest relationships with during undergrad at UIC were Dr. D, Dr. G, and Dr. W. Several months back, I got some feedback from both Dr. D and and Dr W about the schools I was thinking of applying to at the time (a list which, at the time, included UT and UK as well as three other schools in Georgia and North Carolina). Dr. R had offered a consultation on the matter unsolicited (and I was more than happy to take her up on her offer!), and Dr. A had just happened to come and visit her during our meeting and gave his two cents while he was there. I hadn't asked Dr. M, despite my very high regard for her opinion, because she is a very busy woman, and I figured Dr. R's input would be enough.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Based on new information I've received from Dr. M in response to what my research interests are, I must now reevaluate everything about the approach to grad school. I knew that UT's program was stronger in archaeology and forensic anthropology, but there was one prof whom I thought would be a good match as an advisor, and a few more who would have made good committee members. Admittedly, my vision has been somewhat clouded because UT is in Knoxville, and therefore close to our new home. But the more I find out from Dr. M, the clearer it is that Lexington's program is infinitely better-suited to what my academic goals are. Not to mention that according to Dr. M, "Knoxville's anthropology program is famously dysfunctional. I understand the geographical attraction. But it does not compare to Lexington. It also might be a difficult place to survive as a grad student. Just so you know."
The previous thinking was that even if UT wasn't the best fit, it would still be doable. It would entail far fewer complications, would be the least expensive option (in-state tuition, no moving expenses, et cetera), et cetera. But if the program is as "dysfunctional" as Dr. M says, even on the off chance I got accepted, it might not be worth it.
This complicates matters severely. Because -- assuming I get accepted to either program -- my going to grad school hinges also on being able to afford it. Fiancé and I each contribute about half to our household income (I make more than he does, but we're at about 55-45). To continue paying my share of expenses as they currently stand for our abode in Blount County, Tennessee, I would have to take home at least $20,000 a year on top of whatever part of my income/loans/grants/whatever went toward tuition, books, school fees, et cetera. The cost of living is definitely higher in Lexington proper; I've no idea about the surrounding suburbs. And while Fiancé is open to moving to Kentucky for a few years, he would still need to get a job up there. It would be profoundly disruptive even if we could afford it.
The other day, Fiancé tried to comfort me by saying that no matter what, we would make sure I went to grad school. "Maybe it'll take five years, but we will make it happen." But that notion just reduced me to tears. In five years, I'll be on the verge of running out of time on the baby front. I've been warned by countless medical professionals not to have children after age 35 because of the potential health issues on both my end and on the potential baby's end. Grad school would be challenging enough under our current circumstances. I've known students -- including women, who for better or worse usually wind up taking up the brunt of child rearing -- who have gone through grad school with small children, so it's obviously possible. But I don't know that I can do it. Especially with the combined time/energy constraints on top of the financial problem.
As previously stated, I'm not giving up on the prospect entirely. Whether or not I should even bother is still in question, but regardless, I'm still bothering. I've already paid the application fees for both schools and can't get that money back now. Might as well see them through to the end.
But it's also evident that an adjustment of expectations is necessary. The vast majority of people on Earth don't even have the equivalent of a high school diploma, so for me to attach my happiness to a piece of paper and a furthering in education is absurd. Especially when, realistically, the chances of an advanced degree improving my employment prospects is not great. Dreams are beautiful things, but dreams and goals also need to be at least somewhat practical. A pig can wish she or he could fly, but without wings, it just isn't going to happen. This isn't pessimism: this is realism. I might have to be content with graduating magna cum laude in undergrad, and if I'm lucky, being able to frame at least one letter of acceptance and know I could have gone further if circumstances outside my control had been different.
The root of suffering is desire; therefore, in order to avoid suffering, I need to curb desire, or at least be reasonable about my wants. It's a concept I've readily applied to material wants and need to get better at applying to academic wants. I'm not quite to the point of completely giving up on these dreams, but I know that I will probably never have a doctorate, and may never even get a Masters. And if I'm ever going to have a chance at being happy, I need to be okay with this.
Applications are in, and it's a matter of putting finishing touches on letters of intent and getting those sent in. I'm glad now that I hadn't actually turned those in yet, for reasons I'll explain in a moment.
One of the professors who had agreed months back (we're talking late April, early May) to write a letter of recommendation only got back to me a few days ago, despite the fact that I've been sending gentle messages for the past month asking what he needed from me other than stamped addressed envelopes. It would be a lie to say that the period during which I was waiting to hear from him was not nerve-racking. Granted, it was my fault for waiting until two months before the deadline to start contacting him again, but the three weeks of not hearing from him led to a minor freak-out during which I interpreted the situation as the Universe's way of telling me that I had no right to even bother.
The three professors I'd developed the closest relationships with during undergrad at UIC were Dr. D, Dr. G, and Dr. W. Several months back, I got some feedback from both Dr. D and and Dr W about the schools I was thinking of applying to at the time (a list which, at the time, included UT and UK as well as three other schools in Georgia and North Carolina). Dr. R had offered a consultation on the matter unsolicited (and I was more than happy to take her up on her offer!), and Dr. A had just happened to come and visit her during our meeting and gave his two cents while he was there. I hadn't asked Dr. M, despite my very high regard for her opinion, because she is a very busy woman, and I figured Dr. R's input would be enough.
Oh, how wrong I was.
Based on new information I've received from Dr. M in response to what my research interests are, I must now reevaluate everything about the approach to grad school. I knew that UT's program was stronger in archaeology and forensic anthropology, but there was one prof whom I thought would be a good match as an advisor, and a few more who would have made good committee members. Admittedly, my vision has been somewhat clouded because UT is in Knoxville, and therefore close to our new home. But the more I find out from Dr. M, the clearer it is that Lexington's program is infinitely better-suited to what my academic goals are. Not to mention that according to Dr. M, "Knoxville's anthropology program is famously dysfunctional. I understand the geographical attraction. But it does not compare to Lexington. It also might be a difficult place to survive as a grad student. Just so you know."
The previous thinking was that even if UT wasn't the best fit, it would still be doable. It would entail far fewer complications, would be the least expensive option (in-state tuition, no moving expenses, et cetera), et cetera. But if the program is as "dysfunctional" as Dr. M says, even on the off chance I got accepted, it might not be worth it.
This complicates matters severely. Because -- assuming I get accepted to either program -- my going to grad school hinges also on being able to afford it. Fiancé and I each contribute about half to our household income (I make more than he does, but we're at about 55-45). To continue paying my share of expenses as they currently stand for our abode in Blount County, Tennessee, I would have to take home at least $20,000 a year on top of whatever part of my income/loans/grants/whatever went toward tuition, books, school fees, et cetera. The cost of living is definitely higher in Lexington proper; I've no idea about the surrounding suburbs. And while Fiancé is open to moving to Kentucky for a few years, he would still need to get a job up there. It would be profoundly disruptive even if we could afford it.
The other day, Fiancé tried to comfort me by saying that no matter what, we would make sure I went to grad school. "Maybe it'll take five years, but we will make it happen." But that notion just reduced me to tears. In five years, I'll be on the verge of running out of time on the baby front. I've been warned by countless medical professionals not to have children after age 35 because of the potential health issues on both my end and on the potential baby's end. Grad school would be challenging enough under our current circumstances. I've known students -- including women, who for better or worse usually wind up taking up the brunt of child rearing -- who have gone through grad school with small children, so it's obviously possible. But I don't know that I can do it. Especially with the combined time/energy constraints on top of the financial problem.
As previously stated, I'm not giving up on the prospect entirely. Whether or not I should even bother is still in question, but regardless, I'm still bothering. I've already paid the application fees for both schools and can't get that money back now. Might as well see them through to the end.
But it's also evident that an adjustment of expectations is necessary. The vast majority of people on Earth don't even have the equivalent of a high school diploma, so for me to attach my happiness to a piece of paper and a furthering in education is absurd. Especially when, realistically, the chances of an advanced degree improving my employment prospects is not great. Dreams are beautiful things, but dreams and goals also need to be at least somewhat practical. A pig can wish she or he could fly, but without wings, it just isn't going to happen. This isn't pessimism: this is realism. I might have to be content with graduating magna cum laude in undergrad, and if I'm lucky, being able to frame at least one letter of acceptance and know I could have gone further if circumstances outside my control had been different.
The root of suffering is desire; therefore, in order to avoid suffering, I need to curb desire, or at least be reasonable about my wants. It's a concept I've readily applied to material wants and need to get better at applying to academic wants. I'm not quite to the point of completely giving up on these dreams, but I know that I will probably never have a doctorate, and may never even get a Masters. And if I'm ever going to have a chance at being happy, I need to be okay with this.
posted by E.L.K. @ 3:20 PM
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