The Cost That No One Talks About

I read a few articles not long after having started my PhD that laid out the costs of obtaining a degree in higher education (see blogs Slate and  Quartz). While I personally found many of the statements true, the emotional cost that it spoke of, did not directly speak to me. It mentioned that many people become depressed, suicidal, emotionally unstable, and either act on it or leave the program. I say this as a preface for the things that have all been happening within the last few months that I have not taken the time to update here. I haven't because, dealing with it in person has been taxing and the idea of rehashing it, as it is all happening around me, was too much.

An important piece of information is that statistically, the attrition rate at the PhD level is roughly 50%. While my cohort originally started with six (five first year students and one vet-med dual degree PhD) we are now down to three. Two of those left because they realized that they weren't doing the thing that made them happy, or that a PhD wasn't for them and opted to cut their losses. One came into the program with a lot of emotional baggage and during our second year was hospitalized for depression and alcoholism; as such, they have been quietly asked to leave the program, given a year to get their life together, and may be given the opportunity to return. My class is pretty much batting average.

The class below me, the current 2nd years, are wrapping up their last bit of class work and are soon to be taking their qualifying exams. They too are a class of 6 and have already begun seeing that people will leave. One of their cohort, a friend of mine, has struggled with handling intra-lab politics, as well as interactions with her boss. While no mentor-mentee relationship is perfect, theirs is/was a sordid mess. Her boss is someone whom I have a very strong distaste for, I have said I will never work with again, and I can only imagine what being in her lab would be like. The boss is a vile venomous person and I cannot think of a nice thing to say. As such, the kind of vitriol that spewed forth from her mouth and toward my friend has left a potential lethal wound. Recently, my friend was in the hospital for reasons not disclosed to any beyond a select few. Having some deductive reasoning skills of my own, along with a contextual understanding, I believe she was there due to a worry of inflicting self harm. Two weeks ago, her lab members were reckless and did something that put lives at risk. For my friend, this was the last straw. She has decided to leave the program until September and quite frankly, I really don't think she will return. The statement itself is awful because she has a brilliant mind and could do wonderfully given the right mentorship but I don't think she had that opportunity.

The combination of those now gone from my cohort and the new absence has others talking. It has the current second years questioning who will be the next to go, to throw in the towel and walk away. And truthfully, it isn't just the second years talking either, the first years are watching and they are all a bit scared. Several of them have talked about being nervous that they won't make it through. Made jokes about hoping that it won't be them next to leave. It is in the program's best interest to have a lower rate of attrition but how do we accomplish that? How do we reshape this culture of cruel behavior? It isn't in the interest of academia to raise a bunch of softies who can't take a punch (by which I mean who can't compete for grant funding, who can't defend their work, who can't take constructive criticism) but that isn't all what is happening here.

I see that there needs to be a culture change but of the three of my cohort remaining, I'm the only active participant in program activities. The dual-degree has a year left before her return to vet-school and as such has been under the wire to publish and produce as much data as possible, leaving little to no time for anything else. The other student works at a lab on part of our satellite campus and he is, from what I've heard, struggling. While this student did pass his qualifying exam, he has been struggling to maintain consistent progress and may not make it through the program. So of the six of us, I may be the last one standing. That is a huge undertaking for one person and in the interest of self preservation and success I honestly just want to finish my work so that I can graduate.

Lastly, a lab member of mine has recently had a lot of health issues. In trying to identify what is the source of the illness, he has undergone a myriad of tests, the results came back inconclusive but pointing to one of several diseases that may leave him wheelchair bound or dead within the next 5 years. This news was shocking and surprising, and he took me into his confidence for two main reasons: 1) if anything should happen to him while working, he wanted someone to know what to tell EMS, and 2) to have someone to talk about and confide in. This has obviously raised a lot of questions for him about what to do next. I mean, if someone told you that the clock is ticking and in 5 years you wouldn't be here anymore, what would you do? Would you keep working? The problem is, he doesn't have a timeline yet, there are still so many tests left to be done to narrow down the cause of his symptoms and questions left unanswered. It could be something that kills him in 5 or 30 years. That's a big difference and one that would make a lot of choices easier or more difficult...but he still needs more information. As that has been unfolding, I have been a sounding board, absorbing the information he has so far, offering comfort where I can, and proffering advice when asked. I can't empathize with him because that isn't a situation I've ever been in nor can I fully grasp (and I doubt anyone could unless they too received that kind of news).

For these students, doing a PhD has caused their worlds to come crumbling down around them. Their health has declined, by which I mean both physical and mental. Their support systems aren't there, and those of us who can identify and support them are too wrapped up in our own work to really offer the kind of help they all need. Doing a PhD isn't easy, no one ever said it was, but until recently, people haven't spoken about the true health cost of getting one and it needs to be voiced. It is only when we give it a voice that I think we'll be able to tackle the conversation of how to change the culture so that this kind of emotional damage isn't inflicted upon the students. There is a high cost to this degree and for some, they do pay with their lives...that price is too high and no one should have to pay it.

The first year in review

I've not been writing as religiously as I intended. The beginnings of this program were rocky and I felt I almost lost my footing. Now, my first year as a PhD student is coming to a close, I feel like I've been through so much this since I've moved and began this journey that it couldn't have all taken place in such a short amount of time.

Beginning with home life, I move in with my girlfriend and together we've made a very nice place for ourselves. There are still a few things we'd like to change or do, but living in an apartment definitely limits your options. Living with someone else has taken some adjusting, on both sides, but I think we're cohabit acting quite nicely together. 

My girlfriend moved up here with a cat (Abbey) and, back in September/ November, we felt she was getting rather lonely...so we adopted another friend for her to play with. His name is Perry, after the Disney character, due to the loud purring noises he makes and propensity to disappear. He is fun, full of love and a little Derpy. He has become very attached to me in a very short amount of time. He likes to sit in the office with me while I study or read and during my breaks from work I've taught him several tricks (including: sit, stand, shake, lay down, roll over). He also likes to play fetch with us, and occasionally runs around with his tongue hanging out. 

The first year of a PhD is filled with classes, seminars, reading and rotations. It seems like they ask you to learn and do so much...way more in fact than anyone actually has time for. We lose a lot of sleep, eat poorly, and exercise less than we'd like. By we, I mean the collective first year cohort. The first quarter we were here, we had 4 classes together and saw each other rather frequently. As the year has progressed, we've begun seeing much less of one another...due to difference in classes and difference in lab locations. The campus and lab spaces are spread throughout two cities so locations of labs do play a role in where you rotate and eventually where you will live during the remainder of your degree here. 

My first 2 rotations were in labs located 30ish minutes away by car from main campus. Initially, for my first rotation, I was biking every day to main campus and then taking an inter campus shuttle to the secondary area. This did make commuting rather difficult as the bus stopped running at 7:30 pm. For "normal people" this wouldn't be much of an issue, but for graduate students who live in the lab it does present a problem. My first lab was one that never stopped. Without exaggeration, there was always someone in that lab...24/7 there is someone there. Everyone keeps very different hours and there were no windows in the lab so you rarely felt the pull of night telling you it was time to go home. I began feeling that my commuting via bus was causing tension (having to leave early, so I wouldn't be stuck in a city without a ride home) and so I bought a parking pass and began driving out there. Where this did ease some the stress and tension I still felt like things weren't quite clicking. The research done in this lab involved a lot of cancer biology, a bit of HVGD and some emerging studies with viruses. I felt that the environment was a tough one, but I could thrive there given the opportunity to do so. The PI of the lab was rarely there, living in another state, and relied heavily upon the opinion and information provided to him of his current students. Upon exiting his lab, he stated that he liked my work but had another student rotating with him and needed to give them a shot before offering me a position. I said that I understood and moved on to my next rotation.

My second rotation was in a lab that was also part of a hospital. There were several layers of security and screening to go through just to rotate there. The first 2-3 weeks of my rotation, the PI of the lab wasn't present. He was gone due to an illness and a conference and so I began my rotation very haphazardly. There were conflicting reports of what project I was to work on and who with. Things got off to a very rocky start, but eventually settled down a bit. I found myself working hard and being asked to help with other things, but the research itself wasn't one that really got me excited. It focussed heavily on the immune regulation of arthritis. I wanted to be thrilled and excited about it...I really did. The PI knew it wasn't the area I wanted to go in to and while he liked my work, he acknowledged that fact. As I exited his lab to start my 3 and final rotation the PI of Lab 2 offered me a spot and indicated that I would be free, in his lab, to pursue my interests of infectious models while working on immune regulation of arthritis. I thanked him for the offer and said that I had to give my 3rd rotation a shot before I committed. 

Right around the time I was leaving Lab 2, I had heard back from Lab 1 and was told that I would not be offered a position. That did make me a bit worried...I mean, I knew I wasn't the best fit for that lab, but I really wasn't thrilled about Lab 2 and Lab 3 was to have 4 of the 6 graduate students rotating through with only enough money to take on one student. That left me feeling like I had little hope of getting in to Lab 3 and that Lab 2 would really be my only option.

I felt stressed, tired and frustrated. I felt rejected. 

While most of this was occurring classes were still going on and in the first quarter. One of my classes only had 2 exams...a midterm and a final. I studied hard for the midterm but wasn't prepared for a section and got a C on it. I was eventually called in to the Dept. Chair's office and he asked me what happened, why I wasn't performing and told me I needed to make a change. I felt defeated. I broke down that night. After the final, I knew I hadn't aced the exam, but I didn't fail it either. I got the score back and was excited at first. I got enough points, or so I thought, to earn a B in the class. But the grade on the website said C+... how could that be? Each exam was weighted differently and as such it shifted my grade downward instead of upward. I was crushed. I thought this meant academic probation. Academic probation means no stipend. No stipend means loans. Loans were not an option in my mind...so that meant I was done.  What a failure, what a waste...of time, money, energy. What was I going to tell people back home? That was just too much and I was scared. I was never so happy to have my girlfriend with me. She talked me through it, told me everything was going to be okay. And it was. The official grade ended up being a B. I'm sure they curved it so that I wouldn't get a C+ and to keep me off of academic probation...that's the thing they don't tell you when you get into grad school. They don't want you to fail, they've already invested a lot of money in you and don't want you to drop. So they help...where they can. My Second quarter went much better, I was back in the swing of classes, back to studying harder than ever and I got mostly As and a B+.

During my Second quarter my 3rd rotation started. When I began my rotation, the PI indicated that this spot was a highly sought after one and that he tested his students to see how badly they wanted in the lab. The way that he knew that they were passionate about this work was that they would know not only about their projects but about everyone else's as well. I knew I had to be on point. I worked hard, stayed late, slept little, I asked everyone about their project and took notes while they explained. I said yes to whenever anyone needed anything. I made suggestions, I asked for input, I did everything I could. In the end, a week before my rotation was to end, I had a meeting with the PI. He quizzed me, asked me hard questions and each time I answered, I was asked another. It was terrifying. At the end of the meeting, the PI told me he needed to think about things and confer with the current students. I waited almost a week before he sent me an email offering me a position.

The sense of elation was mirrored only by my acceptance to this program. I was in. I had a new home. It meant being in a lab that studies the kind of stuff I want. I didn't have to move to the secondary campus. It meant that things really would work out.

It really was fantastic and I couldn't have been happier.

My third and final quarter of my first year, as I said, is coming to a close in a couple weeks. The second week in June is the week of finals...rapidly approaching and in that time, so much has changed.

Since moving here, I've flown home a few times to see my family and they've come a few times to see me. It is different, like I knew it would be. My room is still..."my room" but...it is distinctly not at the same time. I miss my parents a lot, and I know they miss me too. It is really hard for my mom. Each time they or I leave, she hugs me tightly and cries. Even when we Skype, she tears up. It is hard being away from my family, but it had to happen sooner or later. At 26, now 27 years old, it was time to move out...time to move on. I lived at home as long as I could and it was time for a new adventure.

With all of these changes, I'm excited and terrified to see what year 2 will bring. 

Hopefully this coming year, I'll be writing more. 

Quite a lot of baggage

This week I've begun packing up my things.

After living in this house for 26 years, I've clearly accumulated quite a lot of stuff. As I place things in boxes to move, others to give away and in bags to throw away, I find myself reflecting on each item. I look at each piece and recall the story behind how that came into my possession. Most have wonderful memories tied to them, some are sad or bitter, and others just receive a confounded look as I ask myself "where did this come from?" or "why did I keep this?" I've held onto some weird things; I've found old homework from the 8th grade, toy robots that will never be played with again and pictures from yesteryear. Some tough decisions have been made about some of this stuff too; there is so much I'd like to keep or to take with me, but I don't see a point. So I am giving away what I can, leaving behind what I can part with, and taking the rest. These boxes do fill up rather quickly though and I feel like the whole house is in chaos. We've done a lot of shopping and had a majority of the furniture we want delivered to my house. It is a sea/maze of boxes in my house.

This whole process of moving has been interesting, introspective and emotional. There are so many things I've seen every day that I will be leaving in my room (for now); it is weird not knowing the next time I'll be back in my own room or what will change between now and then. My parents have upgraded several things in the house in the last few years and it has morphed into quite a different place. I'm curious to see what the next few years will bring for this house and when I return, what will be different.

As more and more of my stuff is leaving my room in boxes, the emptier my room feels and the sadder I get. It hadn't really hit me until I began boxing up some of my clothes, just now, that this was it. This is the first time I've ever moved... I learned to walk in this house and while it will always hold so many memories, the next time I return, this won't really be home. Things will never be the same; I am excited about starting a new chapter in my life but it is hard letting go. The last several nights, as I've said goodnight to my parents, my mom has begun to cry; not only am I the youngest but the relationship between my parents and I has grown into more of a friendship. It is weird seeing your parents as peers, but it is definitely a facet of adulthood that I enjoy; I am aware that not everyone has that kind of relationship with their parents, but some do and they'll understand how cool it can be. They've both come to confide in me, and I in them, and where it is tough not seeing parents it will be hard not seeing my two friends.

This past weekend I had a "See you later party" to see all the friends that could before I leave. It was an open house event, allowing people to arrive at noon and lasting until about 11 pm. I got to spend a bit more time with my (now former) boss, my mix of friends and my family. When the last few people left, we cleaned up and it all felt very surreal. I feel very detached from a lot of what is happening and at the same time I know what is going on and I'm not sure how to respond to it all. Between boxing up my things this week, I am trying to squeeze in a bit of time to see a few people that couldn't make it to my party. I'm going to miss, so very much, seeing everyone and where I know that I'll make new friends, it does little to ease the loss of the old.

Next week, I am to pick up the moving truck. Thursday I am going to drive to pick up the keys to my apartment (~5.5 hr drive...6 if you leave time for gas and a food break) and then fly back home later that night. A week from this coming Saturday I will be driving to my apartment to stay. I'm excited and nervous about it all.

I still have to pack my clothes and to box up my electronics, but I feel like that is a job to do next week.

Time to go meet some friends for lunch.

Till next time.

"Summertime and the livin is easy"

It has been just over a week since I've left the lab.

In the days that followed, I've had several conversations with, now former, labmates about the affairs of the lab. Some of those conversations have even been attempts to bring me back. Where the offers are, of course tempting, I stay my distance.

There have been a great many advances in the process of moving since my last update. I've done lots of homework on several different things for the apartment; purchased a bed, a desk, dining table and chairs, and a dresser. It has been an intense week on my bank account. Though my parents are helping pay for these things, it is still tough to see how much money is being spent. There is still lots to organize. I'm currently working on a new problem that has cropped up with moving and that is PODs versus Trucks. There seems to be an issue that was only just discovered last night and now I am working to see what I can do. It is frustrating and it is also weird. The process of buying all of this stuff... seeing several thousand dollars disappear from my bank accounts or seeing several thousand show up on credit cards, bargaining for lower costs of furniture; these moments have made me feel more like an adult than ever before. All of the problems of packing and delivering, organizing the logistics...it is all rather exhausting and I don't know that I feel mature enough to handle all of it. Sometimes it is all rather overwhelming and I'm not sure I know what I'm doing.

When I've expressed those sentiments to other "adults", they have similar sentiments; which leads me to the conclusion that no one really knows what they're doing, everything is just anyone's best guess most of the time. That is pretty startling.

In the week I have had off, I've accomplished all of that and still found time to read the new Dan Brown book (Inferno). This book was especially enticing because it dealt both with Europe travel (visiting most of the places I had just seen on my trip) and with some interesting questions of population control. I don't think I much cared for the book, it was mildly disappointing, but I thought it was interesting how he brought a very important topic to a very large audience. The issue discussed in the book is very really and very startling. He makes some great points and in the end, I think may broaden some minds.

In the time I have while still at home, I am doing my best to see all of my friends and to relax as much as possible. There have been lots of drinks by the pool and naps. Today is a movie day, followed by dinner and some trivia. I'm excited for a bit of relaxation time before the next storm.

Till next week.