Stephen Leaves a PhD Program - Twice

In this post, I'd like to talk very frankly about why I chose to leave not one but two PhD programs before finding my home here in Curriculum Studies. While this is less of a specific event as directed by the prompt, it has deeply effected how I approach my work, academic and professional, my identity construction, and how I choose to share these experiences. In some sense, this post is really about relationships, particularly with your advisor. 

I think every PhD student remembers the day they got their acceptance letter/call. For me, the first time, it was early April 2014. I was set to graduate with my MA from Ball State in May and had spend much of the last year focused on PhD applications. I applied to 6 schools and was rejected by 5 of them; luckily, the school that accepted me, IU, was my first choice. After multiple interviews, a campus visit, and several emails, I finally received a formal offer letter to join the Telecommunications (Media Effects) program. It was one of the happiest days of my life - my Dad and I both cried. In August of that year, I moved to Bloomington, IN and settled into a new life. I met my advisor, and we seemingly got along well. He appeared supportive, we shared a sense of humor and research interests; he was working on several cool projects, including consulting for a Netflix documentary. While I don't intend to drop names in this post, my advisor was one of the most respected researchers in pornography effects. In fact, we even bonded on mental health struggles. 

Unfortunately, the honeymoon period was all-too-short. I remember chatting with another of my advisor's students around mid-terms; she was nearly in tears from the discussion they had - and even mentioned that he wondered "what the ****" I had been up to. I'd asked to schedule a regular meeting but go no response; after this, it took mustering some courage to finally reach out again and request another meeting. It was nerve-wracking. I had planned to ask how I could get involved in research and what else I should be thinking about in my first semester. I was verbally derided for what felt like an eternity. Still, I tried to follow the confusing advice given. I followed up with another meeting a few weeks later where my advisor eventually said "well you don't know how to write, and you don't know how to do research, so I'm not really sure why you're here." He then spent the rest of the meeting telling me all of the gossipy reasons I shouldn't work with any of the folks I'd reached out to get involved in research projects. Long story short, that was my last meeting with him. I was without an advisor for the spring term, and was luckily able to move to a new advisor - one of the most distinguished faculty in the field, with awards named after her. 

Unfortunately, while we were a great match personality-wise and with regard to research interests, life seemed to get in the way. My mom got a cancer diagnosis at this time, and I was spending a lot of time driving back and forth, as I was her only real caregiver. After about a semester of this, my new advisor also shared that she intended to retire next year - well before I would get through a dissertation - so I'd again be without an advisor. After some time reflecting, I decided I would take some time away from the program to care for my mother and reassess if I wanted to continue.

During my time away, I was initially relieved, but quickly felt like I had become a failure. It was difficult to talk about - all of the folks in my life who would ask how it was going now had to get an explanation as to why I was back home. The depression and identity crisis from this, along with my mom's health, were altogether devastating. I eventually reached out and tried to return to the program about a year later, but could never seem to get a straight answer (or any) about re-enrollment, so I eventually cut my losses and moved on. 

Fast-forward to 2019, I had just started a career here at Purdue as entry-level academic advisor in First-Year Engineering. Frankly, I had a lot of free-time during the workday, and I thought why not see what PhD options were available. I applied to the newly created Higher Education PhD program; I was not accepted to the first cohort but strongly encouraged to apply again the following year, which I did. I was accepted for the second cohort and felt the same rollercoaster of excitement I described above. This time, I felt I knew what to do and what to avoid. I did a much better job of connecting with my peers and developing a sense of belonging; I excelled in coursework and had multiple projects in process with both peers and mentors. 

Unfortunately, personality and ethical conflicts would present again. In the Higher Ed program, students take courses year-round, cohort style, including research credits. Typically, these credits involved working with our faculty mentors/advisors on revising coursework into publishable projects to be included in a three-article dissertation. However, during the summer, my assigned advisor told me "your on your own, we're not on contract during the summer, you'll need to find someone else to collaborate with." So, I did just that. I got involved with a project operating out of the Provost's Office with some Engineering Education faculty, and we made good progress. When we returned for the fall semester and reported out on our summer research efforts, I was publicly criticized in front of my peers for not disclosing my project sooner, and then I was told I could only be involved in this project if the other faculty would "give me the data as extant" and then "you can do the write-up with us." To me, this felt very unethical; data aren't to be traded around like that and my advisor had no expertise in the topic area; my advisor was, however, pre-tenure and quite eager to get their name on publications. This same advisor had also told one of my peers that the advisor needed to be listed as second author on all publication submissions because of the feedback she'd given; in some cases, this feedback was only simple things like a comma splice or an APA style error. This too made me deeply uncomfortable, and after meeting with a graduate ombudsperson and the wonderful faculty here in EDCI, I decided to move programs. 

So, what are my takeaways from these experiences?

1. Trust your gut - if something doesn't feel like a good fit, it probably isn't, and you don't have to be stuck with a bad fit. 

2. Do not ever sacrifice your mental or physical health for academics - it simply isn't worth it, and you are worth standing up for if you're experiencing this kind of bad treatment. 

3. Personality/Work-Style fit >>>> Research expertise - look, some of the world's best researchers are complete assholes. They simply are. Your job in grad school is to finish your degree and get out. Don't let an asshole get in the way of that. You can find the research expertise elsewhere or get consults as needed, but don't but your life in the hands of someone who doesn't care about it.