Sunday, September 17, 2017

The Imposter

There is a term that many graduate students throw around called Imposter Syndrome. Yet I think, for the most part, we use this term incorrectly (kind of like "intersectionality" but I won't go there right now). Basically, when we talk about imposter syndrome, we usually mean we feel like we don't belong, like we're going to be exposed as frauds, that actually we aren't smart enough to be in grad school. Yet there is an important component to imposter syndrome, which is the inability to internalize our accomplishments. Because to feel like an imposter also means one has to be incredibly accomplished because for some stupid reason she can't believe she is really that amazing.

I've written about this before, and this little syndrome monster rears its head every once in a while. However a couple of weeks ago this little monster came on strong and unforgiving. I am working on applying for some dissertation fellowships, and as I was working through writing the narrative for one of them I just started freaking out. I've been working in a vacuum for the entire summer, and not talking to really anybody. Talking with Miriam about my ideas is great, yes, but she doesn't give me much in the way of intellectual conversation (although her smiles are darn encouraging). So I've been working away, alone, and re-writing large portions of my dissertation proposal, and also cutting it down to 10 pages that makes a coherent argument for why I deserve a bunch of money, and I just flipped. The slow creep of the imposter monster was upon me, and I got up from the cafe table I was at and walked around the parking lot breathing heavily. Then I phoned a friend. Then I sent an email to my advisor telling him I was freaking out.

I don't want to make light of this, because it is very real. I often feel that I have to work harder to prove myself, this could be my own doing, or it could be that there are few women in academia so any number of us has to be better than someone else. (I saw a perfect headline this morning that said, "Uber's search for a women CEO gets narrowed down to 3 men.") So I look and compare myself to my peers, men and women, and I flail. And I don't believe those around me who tell me I'm doing good work, important work.

So that was a couple of weeks ago. I'm still dealing. But I have at least made some good progress on my fellowship applications as well as gained more confidence in what I'm writing about. It's hard. It's hard to write about women in academia (why did I choose this topic for my dissertation?!?!?) and this all gets squeezed by my sleep deprivation.

So here it all is. Imposter Monster, Sleep Deprivation, Grad School Stressing. For now I've got some good water wings, and soon I'll be swimming again on my own. But darn that Imposter Monster, it's the worst.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

It's 8:23pm on a Tuesday

Well, here I am. Four months after my last blog post. Its 8:23pm on a Tuesday and the dishwasher is humming, the drying is going, and Kevin is... in the bedroom with a 3 and a 1/2 month old baby.

I won't go into the details, except to say that life is different. I'll save the sobs about how newborns can't do anything. Like really CAN'T DO ANYTHING (eat, poop, pee, burp, digest, sleep, smile, etc). Oh wait, I take that back, they can cry. And they can root around for milk. But other than that, really, uh, nothing else comes to mind. And I'm not harshing on my little baby, because she's absolutely the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing, smiley, crying, fussy, over-tired sometimes, bright-eyed, curious infant I have every known. (I won't divulge my sample size on knowing infants). But seriously, she's amazing and I mean that totally objectively of course (can you hear my whispering "she's advanced for her age"?). But having a baby is hard. Turning 40 two months after you have a baby is hard. Trying to make revisions on a dissertation proposal with a baby after turning 40 is hard. But it's also one of the most miraculous events in my life. I'll spare the gritty details, and just post a bunch of baby pictures for now*. Later I'll write about my meltdown with imposter syndrome and my revisions to my dissertation (fun times!)

*This post is for you, Bev.

Here's my chunky monkey at 3 months!


First time with a cloth diaper (and mesmerized by the ceiling fan)
Visiting with her NEW BEST FRIEND Petra who came to see us from Seattle