“The sun sets, only to rise again.”
A gross, wet Tuesday, foreshadowing an unfortunate start?
Real student life has kicked in. As I alluded to in my previous post, posting a new entry once every week seems like it will become the new standard for me. In hindsight, I now realize my “On Being a Student” post was written in the “honeymoon phase” of my doctoral student life, when I was definitely at a high point during the week, feeling exhilarated, confident, and ready.
One week later, I can tell you that I hit an absolute low point in my self-esteem this week, doubting my sense of worth. Have you ever felt like you are an imposter, like you don’t belong? That’s how I felt on Tuesday, the first “official” day of one of my doctoral seminars in the program. Although I thought I had done everything right to prepare for this class, I left that evening (9pm) feeling distraught. Not only was participation graded, and I had only shared once (and only to be called on because I had my hand raised for a long time, but every aspect of the professor’s body language indicated that he/she was ready to move on; even the visual slides displayed had been taken down in anticipation for the next discussion), but also could I not coherently articulate what I had prepared in my mind while I was waiting for my turn to finally come. I had substantive points to make, but no opportunity to make them. Everything was just so fast-paced (a 300-page book condensed into a five minute share-out?). I usually don’t see myself as an anxious person, but that class gave me enough anxiety to last me days. Oh, and it did not help that I could not properly read a syllabus (has it really been that long?) and had only barely skimmed through the articles that I thought would be due AFTER week 1 (and hence, I was being a proactive student) that were actually due BEFORE class. Bravo, Catherine, bravo.
In short, humiliated, embarrassed, underprepared, foolish, and insecure are only a selection of the myriad of emotions I felt leaving class. I quickly walked out of the building, head down, my umbrella shielding me from the rain, but also from any passerby who could read my emotions from looking at my face. I did not want to make conversation. I wanted to be left alone.
I make it to the Columbia University/116th Street subway station. It is packed with students who had also just finished their respective classes. Great. I cannot tell if these are graduate or undergraduate students (I suppose because I did not look at their faces, with fear of making eye contact). I keep to myself, tears building up (but not quite reaching the point of breaking surface tension), pouring my wounded soul onto the keys of my iPhone, desperately in need of a few words of encouragement and perspective---a reality check, really. Max immediately texts me back. And then my sister. Just letting some of my bottled up emotions out made me feel less suffocated. I had, you see, been keeping the feelings inside since 6:50pm, when that first class was over---maintaining my calm and sense of composure for the next two hours and ten minutes until my second class concluded. Having endured similarly humiliating experiences while as a high school teacher, I was a pro at putting a brave face on in front of my students, whom I did not want to have worried about me.
Text message to Max, my fiancé, not Max, my dog (I don’t have a dog).
Text message to my sister (name removed to protect her identity?)
Everyone is human. Yes, even teachers who seem incredibly put-together on a day-to-day basis. Yes, even perfectionists and I’ve-been-a-straight-A-student-all-my-life people are flawed, fragile, and vulnerable. Yes, even those individuals who seem eternally optimistic and bright-eyed can feel pain and distress. You may not know it because these people are incredibly good at hiding their emotions behind a facade, removing their demons and tucking them away in a drawer somewhere, until that drawer gets very, very full.
Shake Shack at 10:08pm (a very late dinner for me). A shack burger and fries make it all better :)
Three full days have already passed since that evening, and my emotional state has returned to a more “normal” state for me. I thought about staying up Tuesday night to write about that day in class, while everything was vivid in my mind, and my emotions were raw, but I was too exhausted, and the blog entry would have likely turned out really, really emotional (like, embarrassingly emotional; like over-the-top to someone calmly reading a blog over a cup of coffee, hoping to start the day right). In the end, besides my feeling of exhaustion, I decided against writing that evening because I needed to do some soul-searching and some quiet reflecting. I also just needed to sleep. I had been up all morning, and I had several meetings scheduled for the next day. I needed a fresh start---a better start.
I think I will end this entry here. There was much more that I wanted to say and write about, but I cannot remember what they are right now, so they must not be terribly important. From time to time, I just have to remember to take the advice and words of encouragement that I give my own students, namely, “The beginning of anything new does not define who you are or who you can become.” As a student, it can be easy to put yourself down first, to generalize your experiences and feelings, and to lose sight of all the good things that are happening around you, to you, and by you. Everyone has shortcomings and my weakness is to get lost in my own thoughts and to have doubts about myself and my ability to cope as soon as something does not go quite right. My reactions are immediate and they are emotional as opposed to rational. Yup, I’m definitely back to life as a student :)
On a positive note, I will say that I was presented with some much-needed humor on social media that Tuesday evening, along with an Instagram post that put some of my feelings of inadequacy in perspective (I will share it below). Oh, and never underestimate the power of a genuine hug of care and love (thank you, Max).
Thank you for reading.
Warm regards,
Catherine
P.S. The next day was a much better day. I will capture it in a separate post.
P.P.S. For the record, you CAN start a doctoral program in education without a master’s degree. You are not automatically an imposter if you fit this criterion.
P.P.P.S. Never underestimate those younger than you are. I sometimes wonder whether I’m truly the older sibling :)
