Until now, I’ve avoided giving prescriptive advice (and so has Yen) about how to manage life in academia. I’ve been motivated by the idea of creating a space for open and honest discussions driven by individual experiences. But recently, it occurred to me that some (if not all) of us may be experiencing the same outrage; we may all be silently screaming down the walls of an institution that crushes individuality and snuffs out originality, which are at the core of creativity. Learning to swallow and smile is not healthy.
With this disclaimer, I want to take a stab at this blog post by sharing a few personal thoughts and proposing some antidotes about preserving mental and physical health. To be clear, I don’t believe that there is cure-all for the bad agents of academia. Of all the lessons we learned in 2020, one most of the most important is that racism—anti-diversity, anti-inclusivity, anti-humanity—is a public pestilence that pervades all layers of our society.
What makes the strain of racism in academia especially virulent is the widespread performance of woke politics that win out over intention and is more important than reception and recognition of different perspectives. And the fact of the matter is you never know who is acting.
Even some of your feminist allies will not hesitate to leverage their support to push back BIPOC, to deny BIWOC agency. This was not an easy lesson for me to learn. So, this isn’t a how-to on fighting racism in hostile spaces, but rather on keeping true to who you are in them.
First thought, as a Black woman I came to academia with the hope and dream of lifting myself up and with that my community. I suppose, one might interpret that motivation as passion—the kind of pursuit that you feel deeply is the right one. Passion is rooted in individuality and lends to creativity. But passion in academia becomes obsession. How so? Well, the thing that academia values the most is conformity; while it demands originality, it comes at the cost of individuality. Think about this in terms of language usage (my area). Language can either prescribe or describe. The prescriptive mode helps you earn a good grade—A+. The descriptive mode helps you (re)formulate the world.
Second thought, as a first-generation college student (not just grad school) it was too easy to confuse academic success with happiness. This relates to the chase for external validation. Imposter syndrome—the feeling that you don’t belong—ignites a deep desire to prove that you are good enough. When your work is then met with accolades, you get a temporary boost, a taste of what if… You are happy, and the next thing you know, another signpost is up. Celebrating an achievement in academia for BIPOC is really just surviving. It means you jumped that guardrail; you didn’t disturb the hegemonic norm; you’re passing in more ways than one…
I started graduate school in 2014 with the idea of (re)imagining how the world saw different bodies. Along the way, the project stopped being enough. I started to look for external validations. Were my ideas good enough? Were my thoughts clearly expressed? Were the theories stable? Were the interpretations valid? In looking for the answers to these questions outside of my own ambitions, I gave up a piece of myself. This professor said to tweak this; that professor said to cut that; this reviewer said to edit this; that reader said to rewrite that… many turns of phrases later and I no longer remember the argument that I wanted to make. But, hey, I made the grade. I get to move on to the next thing. So then, why do I feel this lump in my throat.
There had to be something else; some countermeasures?
A friend reminded me recently that “I” always have a choice. It’s a little-known fact that I had forgotten to do “me.”Thus, our starting point for learning to be healthy. This is a hard lesson to learn, so let’s start with just three steps:
1. Your choice is your own. You will unwittingly displease others, but you will certainly please yourself even if it doesn’t turn out ok.
2. Your boundaries are unmovable. The line that you draw, which you don’t cross and you don’t allow others to cross, is self(ish). Accept the uncomfortable feeling of saying “No” and meaning it.
3. Your success is you and it is not academia. Academic spaces are not immune to the hustle culture. So, keep in mind that the hustle doesn’t define your life. One more time for the academics… your scholarly production—number of articles, books, conferences, fellowships and grants—is not who you are; it is what you do!
Now go get yourselves some boundaries! They look healthy on you.
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