Yesterday I turned 31 years old. This morning, I felt like I was five. As I accepted the reality of my need to return to Maryland for school, I silently threw a tantrum; I didn't want to leave home.
This past weekend, I finally got to come to New York without the weight of the academic world on my shoulders. I caught up with friends, got to see the new beautiful babies, and had dinner and fun with my immediate family. This year, there were no huge plans for the birthday, I just wanted the comfort of being at home.
On Sunday, my actual birthday, I went to church and then made it to momma's for the traditional family party. There was the ritual "telephone call" that brought me downstairs to a decorated birthday table with presents and foods befitting my dietary nuances, and loved ones singing multiple renditions of the birthday song. As I blew out my candles, I felt like I was living the possibility that I'd created at 12 that morning; I felt real joy and real love...(and a little bit of a competitive spirit as we battled each other in a game of "spoons"!).
I can see how getting to this part of the program produces a lot of ABD's (all but dissertations). After the long haul of coursework, you kinda just want to be a "normal" human being again; you want your time back and not to have to always be a responsible student. This weekend, I just wanted to have fun; this morning I just wanted to keep the fun going, I did NOT want to board the bus back to all things school.
It really took everything in me not to cry. I reluctantly booked my bus ticket at the last minute, and slooooowly packed my belongings, secretly praying that I'd get an email canceling tomorrow's 9:30am grant meeting so I could just have one more day...but, it never came, and I'm definitely writing you from my seat on the bus heading back to the DMV.
In my big girl voice, I give big thanks to my mom and siblings and to Lawrence for creating a space for me to feel really celebrated and loved. The warmth of those moments over these past five days really hit the spot, sending me on my way to do what I gotta...well, really to do what I have chosen and what I believe God has chosen for me.
I give major thanks to the Creator for giving me a chance at a new year in life. I'm committed to making You proud. I'm committed to living a life that I love.
Happy Born Day to Me!!!!
Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Now What?
I'm slowly getting back in the rhythm, but now, with only one class and no other real reasons to consistently trek to campus, some days feel kind of...confusing. After going so hard for that test, and for these past two years, it feels kind of surreal to be the orchestrator of your own time. But there's definitely lots to be done.
Last night, as I was talking to my cohort member, I realized that I really need to embrace the idea that I'M IN DISSERTATION MODE. The last leg is finally here. I thought it would feel so much calmer after comps and classes, but there's still anxiety.
At this point, I need to start writing and submitting drafts of my research/dissertation proposal to my dissertation advisor; I need to use my time to build the near 150 page document that will be presented before the Dean and my committee members in a two-hour proposal defense which, done successfully, will grant me permission to commence my research.
Secret: I'm not sure what my topic is yet. (Insert blank stare emoticon). Okay, wait, before you judge me, I do know that I want to work on something related to African-American adolescent mental health, but it is a very complex process to actually nail down your researchable question. I have some ideas, and I've been reading literature in this area for the past two years, so I'm not totally in the dark, but over the next few weeks, I need to solidify something so I can get the conversation going with my advisor, get feedback, and make some headway on that buck fifty (the hundred and fifty or so pages I just said I need to write).
So, there needs to be a formula to this madness. When you get to this point, you need to do a lot of self-reflection and stretching. For me, I know I need to develop some new habits. I admit, I have struggled with being consistent with things, you know, like working out, going to bed before Wendy Williams comes on (don't judge me), and waking up and starting my day before noon approaches (wait, I do get up around 9, but I move pretty sloooooooooowly in the morning). So, a part of me needs to work the muscle of some new rituals to get myself in shape for success. I need to balance these new habits with things that take me out of my comfort zone, but that also resonate with my spirit. Like, I'm not a fan of going to the gym (even the one that's about 12 flights down from me and open 24 hours. Don't...). I do, however, like to dance, so maybe finding a weekly dance class will be a good compromise. Something like that.
Okay, so here's your part. Sometimes, having people to hold you accountable to things gives that added little push you need. So, I'm going to tell you some things that you should take me to task on. In the next few weeks, I need to implement a juicing, exercising, and dissertation proposal routine that I will do for one month straight until it becomes habit. I'll report back on that routine...no, not as a procrastination, but I really want to invest in a plan that'll be effective. Ask me for it in about two weeks (I'm going home next week for my birthday, so I'd more than likely start when I return).
This weekend (today is Saturday), I'm going to start by organizing all of these papers I have in here for easier access and to take out those that may be helpful to my writing process. I will also work on a concept paper (a two-page write-up of my ideas for the proposal) so I can submit this to my advisor before going home to NY. I also have some articles that I want to read and I'd like to find a dissertation writing book to guide my process.
Alrighty, that's where I'll start for now. I'll keep ya posted.
Here it goes....
Last night, as I was talking to my cohort member, I realized that I really need to embrace the idea that I'M IN DISSERTATION MODE. The last leg is finally here. I thought it would feel so much calmer after comps and classes, but there's still anxiety.
At this point, I need to start writing and submitting drafts of my research/dissertation proposal to my dissertation advisor; I need to use my time to build the near 150 page document that will be presented before the Dean and my committee members in a two-hour proposal defense which, done successfully, will grant me permission to commence my research.
Secret: I'm not sure what my topic is yet. (Insert blank stare emoticon). Okay, wait, before you judge me, I do know that I want to work on something related to African-American adolescent mental health, but it is a very complex process to actually nail down your researchable question. I have some ideas, and I've been reading literature in this area for the past two years, so I'm not totally in the dark, but over the next few weeks, I need to solidify something so I can get the conversation going with my advisor, get feedback, and make some headway on that buck fifty (the hundred and fifty or so pages I just said I need to write).
So, there needs to be a formula to this madness. When you get to this point, you need to do a lot of self-reflection and stretching. For me, I know I need to develop some new habits. I admit, I have struggled with being consistent with things, you know, like working out, going to bed before Wendy Williams comes on (don't judge me), and waking up and starting my day before noon approaches (wait, I do get up around 9, but I move pretty sloooooooooowly in the morning). So, a part of me needs to work the muscle of some new rituals to get myself in shape for success. I need to balance these new habits with things that take me out of my comfort zone, but that also resonate with my spirit. Like, I'm not a fan of going to the gym (even the one that's about 12 flights down from me and open 24 hours. Don't...). I do, however, like to dance, so maybe finding a weekly dance class will be a good compromise. Something like that.
Okay, so here's your part. Sometimes, having people to hold you accountable to things gives that added little push you need. So, I'm going to tell you some things that you should take me to task on. In the next few weeks, I need to implement a juicing, exercising, and dissertation proposal routine that I will do for one month straight until it becomes habit. I'll report back on that routine...no, not as a procrastination, but I really want to invest in a plan that'll be effective. Ask me for it in about two weeks (I'm going home next week for my birthday, so I'd more than likely start when I return).
This weekend (today is Saturday), I'm going to start by organizing all of these papers I have in here for easier access and to take out those that may be helpful to my writing process. I will also work on a concept paper (a two-page write-up of my ideas for the proposal) so I can submit this to my advisor before going home to NY. I also have some articles that I want to read and I'd like to find a dissertation writing book to guide my process.
Alrighty, that's where I'll start for now. I'll keep ya posted.
Here it goes....
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Regrouping
In the past four months, I have not had one conversation that did not include mention of the words "Comprehensive Exams". When I reached the end of my second year, there was little time for celebration and little time to really take in the summer because anxiety began to loom about the beginning of this third year where I would have to sit before some questions and write my way into candidacy.
Three days after the first portion of this exam, I still feel a little numb. I laid down last night to sleep and still found myself rummaging through my mental files of semesters' worths of information that I'd memorized...needless to say, I'm still trying to recover.
So, let me back up and bring you into the world of what I just went through. If you recall, after the first year I took a seven day "Qualifying Exam" which essentially meant being sequestered in my home for a week straight pounding out answers to questions about all of the coursework I'd done over the first year. This year, I needed to supplement my first year knowledge with my second year course material, commit as much to memory as my body could endure, and then sit for three days, three hours per day, in front of a computer at school, with no books or access to any notes etc., and respond to questions. I prayed for months, I studied hard, my sister coached me, I participated in review sessions with my cohort member, I carried my books with me EVERYWHERE...I tried very hard to minimize anxiety in all ways I knew how...but as it got down to the wire, I fought hard to stay in the game.
As August approached, I was growing weary. I physically and mentally pushed my way through with everything I had; I spent hours in different libraries on campus, studied over chai tea at the local coffee shops, and began to fill up the walls of my home with notes written with colorful markers to keep me stimulated. But, as the days crept closer, I could feel my energy diminishing and I was growing increasingly...over it! There were points where I felt like I couldn't take it anymore; while I knew I studied, at a point, I wasn't even sure of what I knew anymore.
Some before me have described the importance of having a strong cohort and of how lonely a process this can feel at times; well, these were times when I truly understood the significance of both. My cohort member was, once again, the only person who had a true frame of reference for what I was going through. Everyone else knows that you're in some "process" for a "test", but their conversations with you about it can seem so distancing, because they just innocently have no idea.
More than a test, I definitely feel like this was a transformation point in this academic experience, but also in my life. At times, I asked myself: "Well, after two years, what is it that I really 'know'"? There were moments when memorizing material felt like the elementary school process and I didn't want to be in that space, so I challenged myself to really breathe the material, know it to a point where I was sharing it and not just repeating facts. Sometimes, and in some subjects I felt like I could do that, masterfully; other times, I felt more challenged.
I had to push myself with my writing. I think, secretly, this test meant more to me than proving myself to the professors who'd read it, but it was a personal rite of passage for a girl who had to come face-to-face with her own insecurities about writing, about her voice, about feeling validated in the things that she has to say. Let's just say, for a lot of reasons it felt like the pressure mounted. And so sometimes I cried. The feeling of uncertainty brought me to tears as I questioned being able to make it through. I cried before, during, and after. Am welling up with tears now as I connect myself back to those very moments, recognizing that even after the first part of the exam is over, I still feel vulnerable to this process, this experience.
Some describe these exams as all a part of "academic hazing"; I wouldn't disagree. After each day of the exam it took us a while to recover. Not always so much about the question, but sometimes just about the fact that our bodies and minds were stuck in a weird trance; caught in between trying to grasp the fact that this daunting exam was finally here and the fact that after each three hour session we had to dig deep into God's reserve to push through for the next one until it was finally over.
Each day, we found ourselves just sitting somewhere trying to gather our composure to push forward. By the last day, it was this weird feeling of not knowing how you did on particular sections and continuous pinching to connect with the reality that we finally made it through.
We prayed hard, we worked hard, we gave the test all we had. And now we wait. I definitely trust God, but there were times when my own belief and trust in self seemed to challenge my faith. Just keeping it real.
In the next couple of days, I'll receive an email with the final part of this exam process. In that email will be a series of questions about my special interest area that I will need to respond to and submit within 7 days. In the meantime, I'm taking one more research methods course and preparing to work on my dissertation proposal so I can keep going and prayerfully keep myself moving toward the real end of this academic process in a timely fashion.
I'm sure I have lots more to say, but really, I'm still processing.
In the meantime, I'm back and will be doing much better to keep you posted. Please keep me in prayer, as I will you.
Three days after the first portion of this exam, I still feel a little numb. I laid down last night to sleep and still found myself rummaging through my mental files of semesters' worths of information that I'd memorized...needless to say, I'm still trying to recover.
So, let me back up and bring you into the world of what I just went through. If you recall, after the first year I took a seven day "Qualifying Exam" which essentially meant being sequestered in my home for a week straight pounding out answers to questions about all of the coursework I'd done over the first year. This year, I needed to supplement my first year knowledge with my second year course material, commit as much to memory as my body could endure, and then sit for three days, three hours per day, in front of a computer at school, with no books or access to any notes etc., and respond to questions. I prayed for months, I studied hard, my sister coached me, I participated in review sessions with my cohort member, I carried my books with me EVERYWHERE...I tried very hard to minimize anxiety in all ways I knew how...but as it got down to the wire, I fought hard to stay in the game.
As August approached, I was growing weary. I physically and mentally pushed my way through with everything I had; I spent hours in different libraries on campus, studied over chai tea at the local coffee shops, and began to fill up the walls of my home with notes written with colorful markers to keep me stimulated. But, as the days crept closer, I could feel my energy diminishing and I was growing increasingly...over it! There were points where I felt like I couldn't take it anymore; while I knew I studied, at a point, I wasn't even sure of what I knew anymore.
Some before me have described the importance of having a strong cohort and of how lonely a process this can feel at times; well, these were times when I truly understood the significance of both. My cohort member was, once again, the only person who had a true frame of reference for what I was going through. Everyone else knows that you're in some "process" for a "test", but their conversations with you about it can seem so distancing, because they just innocently have no idea.
More than a test, I definitely feel like this was a transformation point in this academic experience, but also in my life. At times, I asked myself: "Well, after two years, what is it that I really 'know'"? There were moments when memorizing material felt like the elementary school process and I didn't want to be in that space, so I challenged myself to really breathe the material, know it to a point where I was sharing it and not just repeating facts. Sometimes, and in some subjects I felt like I could do that, masterfully; other times, I felt more challenged.
I had to push myself with my writing. I think, secretly, this test meant more to me than proving myself to the professors who'd read it, but it was a personal rite of passage for a girl who had to come face-to-face with her own insecurities about writing, about her voice, about feeling validated in the things that she has to say. Let's just say, for a lot of reasons it felt like the pressure mounted. And so sometimes I cried. The feeling of uncertainty brought me to tears as I questioned being able to make it through. I cried before, during, and after. Am welling up with tears now as I connect myself back to those very moments, recognizing that even after the first part of the exam is over, I still feel vulnerable to this process, this experience.
Some describe these exams as all a part of "academic hazing"; I wouldn't disagree. After each day of the exam it took us a while to recover. Not always so much about the question, but sometimes just about the fact that our bodies and minds were stuck in a weird trance; caught in between trying to grasp the fact that this daunting exam was finally here and the fact that after each three hour session we had to dig deep into God's reserve to push through for the next one until it was finally over.
Each day, we found ourselves just sitting somewhere trying to gather our composure to push forward. By the last day, it was this weird feeling of not knowing how you did on particular sections and continuous pinching to connect with the reality that we finally made it through.
We prayed hard, we worked hard, we gave the test all we had. And now we wait. I definitely trust God, but there were times when my own belief and trust in self seemed to challenge my faith. Just keeping it real.
In the next couple of days, I'll receive an email with the final part of this exam process. In that email will be a series of questions about my special interest area that I will need to respond to and submit within 7 days. In the meantime, I'm taking one more research methods course and preparing to work on my dissertation proposal so I can keep going and prayerfully keep myself moving toward the real end of this academic process in a timely fashion.
I'm sure I have lots more to say, but really, I'm still processing.
In the meantime, I'm back and will be doing much better to keep you posted. Please keep me in prayer, as I will you.
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