Fear & Ethics

Last week was spring break at USC, so I was in denial about all things related to doctoral degrees. That state of bliss came to a screeching halt today, quickly replaced by fear.

I had a meeting with pal, Abbey, and our advisor to plan an independent study we're doing this summer (**LAST COURSE!!**). My advisor is really quite nice and lovely, but she makes me terrified when she most likely doesn't mean to. During this meeting I learned the following:

1. I have six months to finish comprehensive exams (which requires writing 3 big papers). That part was fine, until she added that if we don't finish in six months, we'll be kicked out of the program and have to reapply.

Fear: I've been in the "program" for four years now. That's 25 courses (if you include the year of an extra Masters degree). So you do the math: 25 X approximately 1000 dollars per course. If I spent that much money only to be kicked out of the program before being given the go ahead for dissertation writing, I will absolutely fall apart. Besides the money part, I've learned a lot and should get to at least attempt finishing without fear of being kicked out of the club.

2. I have to prove to my committee that I know how to use Nvivo, which is a qualitative software program. I'm learning to use it now. I thought I would for sure be able to demonstrate my knowledge/understanding of this program, until she said that after I share my work, they'll most likely ask me to do things I haven't already done like make tree diagrams and other visual chart/graphs/analysis type things. This is fine, I thought, until I also learned that if I can't prove that I know the program, I'll have to go back and do another research tool.

Fear: I'm actually learning this software program. Two days ago I was psyched about how awesome it is. Now, I fear that I'll never really know everything about it, so that most likely I'll have to go back and do more. It's always about doing more.

3. I have to ask professors to be on my committee. I have in mind who I'd like to ask. My advisor said they'd make a good group, but one of them, the one I really, REALLY want to be on my committee team, might say no because she's super, legitimately busy.

Fear: In my head, I need this professor on my team. I've convinced myself that I need her, so it must be true. I already knew she could possibly say no because she really is so busy, but ahhhh! what'll I do if she says no!?


Okay, I think there were a couple of other fearful moments, but that's all I can remember. These might seem somewhat minor if you aren't me, but here's the thing about these moments of fear: I don't understand why I'm supposed to be afraid that I won't finish this degree. Every single time I have a meeting, I'm somehow reminded of the impossible nature of ever finishing this doctoral degree. I won't get into the details of the previous spiral-into-hysterics moments, but it seriously happens every single time. Today was a bit different though. Today, I skipped the falling apart stage where I cry and question my intelligence, my mental capacity, my time-management skills, and just got kind of ticked off. Not super ticked off, just majorly annoyed at the fact that I keep letting this degree thing make me feel crazy and inadequate. When I stop to think about it I can easily convince myself that I'm not inadequate. Here's why: I've been taking courses since 2007. I've worked full time plus staying after school to teach/facilitate courses, lead meetings, etc., I've been married and loved my dogs and taken trips and visited my family lots and gone running and gone to the gym and I have even thought about having kids. I've done all of that AND taken courses for four years, and I'm still standing (metaphorically). So, please tell me why I would all of a sudden not be able to continue this degree until I graduate, other than the constant and looming possibility of being kicked out of the program which I am often reminded of? So, you see, instead of crying, I'm just pretending to feel super confident instead of feeling like an inadequate mess. Now, I'm being careful to NOT name myself to the Important Club, which I've referenced before. Deeming myself confident is much different than deeming myself important.

After this meeting and debriefing with Abbey, I announced the following: "It is unethical to scare small children and doc students." Don't you agree? I'm a teacher, and I always do my best to not scare kids. I don't want to scare them. What I want to do is make them feel good enough to do what's right because it's right not because I'm making them terrified to screw up. I think the same should apply to doc students. We are just as fragile as five-year-olds or twelve-year-olds, even when we do pretend to be confident.

In class, following this meeting, I obsessed about how I WOULD finish this degree. I'm going to do that again for a second because this is my blog and this is me giving myself a speech of sorts. There's this book, The Art of Racing in the Rain. I read it three or four years ago. It has stuck with me ever since. I'm about to quote a bunch of it. Hang on (or stop reading here).

There's this guy named Denny. He's a race car driver, and he is watching some old video of his racing with his girlfriend, Eve.

******

"This part of the track is really slick in the rain," he said. "He has to back way off. By the time he gets his grip back, I'm out of his reach."
On the back straight again, the headlights illuminating the turn markers against a sky that was still not completely dark, the Camaro could be seen in Denny's panoramic racing rearview mirror, fading into the background.
"Did he have rain tires?" Eve asked.
"I think so. But his car wasn't set up right."
"Still. You're driving like the track isn't wet, and everyone else is driving like it is."
Turn 12 blasting down the straight, we could see brake lights of the competition flicker ahead; Denny's next victims.
"That which you manifest is before you," Denny said softly.
"What?" Eve asked.
"When I was nineteen," Denny said after a moment, "at my first driving school down at Sears Point, it was raining and they were trying to teach us how to drive in the rain. After the instructors finished explaining all their secrets, all the students were totally confused. We had no idea what they were talking about. I looked over at the guy next to me--I remember him, he was from France and he was very fast. Gabriel Flouret. He smiled and he said: "That which you manifest is before you."
Eve stuck out her lower lip and squinted at Denny.
"And then everything made sense," she said jokingly.
"That's right," Denny said seriously.
On the TV, the rain didn't stop; it kept coming. Denny's team had made the right choice; other teams were pulling off into the hot pits to change rain tires.
"Drivers are afraid of the rain," Denny told us. "Rain amplifies their mistakes, and water on the track can make your car handle unpredictably. When something unpredictable happens you have to react to it; if you're reacting at speed, you're reacting too late. And so you should be afraid."
"I'm afraid just watching it," Eve said.
"If I intentionally make the car do something, then I can predict what it's going to do. In other words, it's only unpredictable if I'm not...possessing...it."
"So you spin the car before the car spins itself?" she asked.
"That's it! If I initiate the action--if I get the car a little loose--then I know it's going to happen before it happens. Then I can react to it before even the car knows it's happening."
"And you can do that?"
Dashing past other cars on the TV screen, his rear end suddenly stepped out, his car got sideways but his hands were already turning to correct, and instead of his car snapping around into a full spin, he was off again, leaving the others behind. Eve sighed in relief, held her hand to her forehead.
"Sometimes," Denny said. "But all drivers spin. It comes from pushing the limits. But I'm working on it. Always working on it. And I had a good day." (pp. 40-42)

*****

The lesson from all of this is multilayered. Here's a breakdown as I see it:

1. Be careful that you don't make others doubt themselves.
2. Be careful that you don't let anyone scare you out of knowing what you are capable of, especially when you've known you are capable of it all along.
3. Envision what you want and keep working to get there, even if it is difficult.