On the PhD Journey: Its Past and Future

Vulnerability is part of the human experience, as uncomfortable as it can be. Why am I making myself vulnerable in this essay? My desire is for other PhD students to know that what they go through is normal (or at least felt by others), and for future students to enter this journey being more aware of its struggles.

Along my PhD journey, I heard a few professors say how their PhD time had been like living a dream life, and how they were somewhat missing this 'liberty'. But a dream life it is not, for many of us, most of the time.

Undertaking a PhD has been the best decision I've taken in my life, although it has not been an easy road. Here is a part of my story.

This text is an attempt to reflect on the past and future of the intense journey that is called the PhD. It is a kind of sense-making exercise: retrospectively reflecting on it and seeking order and meaning.

My thesis is about time and temporality, which are, in my opinion, amongst the most essential topics underlying most of human experience. Time and temporality have not only been the focus of my research, but they played an important role in how I experienced the PhD journey. Accordingly, I will present this essay by introducing the stages of the PhD: before, during and what is to come.

Before the PhD

Earlier in life, most of my decisions were based on opportunities which were within reach, avoiding competition.

When choosing the field for my undergraduate studies. I was tempted to study journalism, but it was difficult to get into, and even more difficult to secure a job afterwards. The profession was starting to experience difficulties. and I was afraid of the outcome. therefore, I went into communications studies (a bachelor's degree with specialisation in media and culture industries) - a field I was nonetheless passionate about and that seemed more promising career-wise.

And then I realised, as well. that there was a lot of competition to get the jobs in this trendy field. "You'll have to start as an assistant for a few years and then climb the ladder", many teachers told us. Well, I did not decide to go to university only to find a position that I was not truly interested in afterwards. And the idea of endless unpaid internships and fighting for a job did not enchant me.

So I did a master's degree in project management, since I had realised through the years that more important than the content of the project itself was the project as a mode of organising, and that the people with whom I worked were really important to me.

I finished my master's degree and worked in the project management field, holding different positions in diverse industries. I was learning a lot, and it was nice, but this was not it.

You know what I mean? 'It', as in something that wakes you up with excitement in the morning, making you eager to work on what thrills you; something you love, and in which you excel.

I took time to reflect on my life. What do I really like, and what am I good at?

I already knew I would want to do a PhD one day if only as a personal challenge. I'm the first in my family to even go to university. I was raised by a single mother in a more than modest context and did not know then that, statistically, where I came from did not destine me to a bright future. I realised, only while doing my master's degree, how privileged most people pursuing higher education really were. I told myself, 'One day I'll prove the statistics wrong and do a PhD, just to show that nobody is "destined to get the short end of the stick"'.

I was expecting to work for a while and to do my PhD later on, to pursue academia as a second career, And then I ran into one of my master's professors at a professional event. We were chatting about our field, and she looked at me and told me, "Julie, you must really do your PhD".

Serendipity The idea grew in my head, and I realised that this was it: I was made to be a professor Now. Not after 20 years in a career not made for me. I was passionate about pedagogy I had the perfect balance of analytical skills and practical grounds. I needed autonomy, diversity and intellectual challenges. I was made for that career, and that career was made for me.

I didn't even do a master's thesis, since my master's degree was not research oriented. I enrolled in a methodology class and prepared for the test required for admission into the PhD programme, while still working full time. I was on a crazy schedule, rising before dawn to study for my class before going to work. Despite these crazy hours, I was feeling more energised than ever, excited about the future, I got accepted to the PhD programme and left my job. It was the beginning of a 5-year (or so) adventure.

For the first time in my life, I decided to do something despite the competition. I knew most people did not finish their PhD, and that amongst the ones who finished, most did not get an academic position. But I felt at peace anyway at least at first. (I do admit to have been overwhelmed with anxiety by the end of my PhD - I will elaborate more on that soon.) I knew I was doing the right thing, despite not being especially confident in myself in general. I had the strong belief that no matter how few people succeeded in getting an academic position, I would be part of them.

The PhD roller coaster

During the PhD, I felt I was on the right path. I liked every dimension that a professor must pursue: teaching, research and services to the community I had the opportunity to teach my first classes then, and I enjoyed it as much as I expected. I was passionate about my researches, which provided me with a strong purpose. I was implicated in many initiatives and enjoyed contributing to my community Really it was (still is) the dream job for me.

I did promise you to 'elaborate' on the darkest time in my PhD. Well, I realised that anxiety and depression being very high amongst PhD students was definitively not a myth. I experienced an intense amount of anxiety through this PhD. It was enough to make me read the whole Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5) (whose ontology is far from mine) used by psychologists to diagnose mental health issues. I felt I had so many of those issues. (Actually not, but I recognised myself in many symptoms of many issues, which is apparently a normal thing when you read it, unless you're a psychopath.)

The PhD experience has been a roller coaster, bringing me excitement and fulfilment, but also despair I often had the thought that, had I known, I would never have done it. And all this while having the two most wonderful supervisors - inspiring, generous and supportive, and having secured financial support through grants. I cannot even imagine the nightmare other less fortunate ones are going through.

The end of the PhD was especially excruciating, since I had then a full-time job and was also teaching, while still finishing my PhD in the early mornings and weekends. Five years is a long time, and I was dying to put an end to that adventure. I had had enough. I don't even know how I made it through to the end. The day before I submitted my thesis, I broke down in tears on the sidewalk while talking on the phone with one of my (still very supportive) supervisors. I'm not even sure I could have gone one more day without completely breaking down (I was definitely not far).

I was not as relieved as I had hoped after my submission. After all, I still had a full-time job, classes to teach, a bunch of marking to do and other deadlines I had pushed forward - still too much for one person. My weekends were far from free, and I had to catch up on sleep and rest (which my schedule would not allow, before what seemed like a long time), I felt kind of empty inside, and still stressed out. The treadmill was still too fast, and nothing could make it stop. (But don't worry... this essay has a happy ending.)

I know that it can be hard to bounce back when you make it to the bottom. Although I have been spared so far my readings on well-being and burnout are making me cautious and concerned. I think I've been very close to that bottom. I could see it, but I stopped just before crashing. I promise myself to take better care in the future. It will be a challenge, since academia is so demanding and reinforces that you can always do more. The funny thing is that my research interests include work intensification, overwork and work-life tensions and paradoxes. It's no wonder why.

An especially interesting issue for academics is the autonomy paradox: the more autonomy you have, the more hours you work, ending up controlled anyway (Putnam, Myers. & Gaillard, 2014). Academia is so prone to that paradox!

Overwork is all around in academia. And it all starts at the PhD, a particularly precarious situation - so little openings. so many brilliant candidates... you can always do more, it's never enough.

"Don't fall into the comparison game", one of my supervisors wisely told me. I had to repeat this to myself so many times. I often felt that everyone around me had more publications (which was not hard to beat, since I had none until recently). But my journey has been distinct and interesting for its own reasons, I guess. I started a business, did a lot of academic and practitioners' conferences. taught a few different classes, did my PhD within a reasonable timeframe, etc. Others, having many publications but maybe fewer outside activities, have probably fallen into comparison games with me. How many times did I have conversations like:

- Another PhD candidate: How can you do everything you're doing?! How productive you are!

- Me: Well, I have no publications so far, and you've got [x]! Isn't that most important if we want to land an academic position? Stop comparing! (And neither should I)

You always emphasise what you didn't achieve, instead of what you did. After submitting my thesis while working full time and teaching, I had two other papers to submit for special issues. My proposals had been accepted, so I could not consider missing these opportunities, even if I had no more time and energy at that point. However instead of celebrating what I had achieved so far (which was considerable), I was upset with myself at the idea of not being able to get everything done.

This is something I want to change from now on: acknowledging what I achieve, and not only where I fall short, or what the end results will be. There is so much invisible work in that career. so much effort behind a single published paper. We need to be proud of ourselves all along the way for doing difficult and meaningful work.

The dark side of academia (overwork, guilt and anxiety) may ruin the bright side of a career (purpose, accomplishment and excitement), which can be so fulfilling if you don't end up completely burnt out.

So the real relief actually came after the defence, when it was clear and official that I had made it through. Because I was unsure until I got the official news. meaning was dependent on the outcome. I felt, as with tests: How did it go? "Well, I'll tell you how it went when I see my mark".

The PhD is over now. I feel like the luckiest person on earth, since I already had a position as a professor even before my defence. I was right to do it. I made it. I landed the most fulfilling job in the world. I will get to work with brilliant people, do research that will help organisations and people, and teach the next generation of leaders. Call me naive. if you like, but I think it is one of the most fundamental roles you can have if you want to change the world.

The PhD experience has taught me many things - as much about how to be a researcher as about more personal matters. It is quite a challenge. It puts you in situations where you really have to work on yourself and show resilience.

Sometimes you have to be strategic and follow opportunities. but sometimes, despite challenges, you have to follow your dreams. I did the former all my life, and finally the latter when I decided to do my PhD. Knowing the end result, of course, I have no regrets. I now look forward to and feel excited for the future. Really meaningful journeys are difficult, but worth it all.

How time affected my experience

Weick (1995) mentions that delays bring negative emotions. We are told that a PhD should take 4 years5 (which very few students doing qualitative research accomplish). But that creates an expectation and a goal. My interest regarding time is not innocent. I have always noticed the impact of deadlines, timeframes and delays on people, but, most of all on me. The timescale of the PhD often stretches. You can't rely on a linear and predictable paradigm. Things unfold in their own way. Reflection requires time.

But I was secretly (or not) hoping to reach that 4-year target, which I was even hoping would be the very maximum, since doctoral scholarships are allocated for 3 years. What comes after is a struggle between other paid commitments and finding time for research (you now know how this struggle felt for me). I was even pushing for more: I would turn 30 years old 4 years after having started the PhD. How awesome it would be to finish before! - a totally arbitrary goal. How time is related to meaning and how meaning is built around time!

Every delay along the way (administrative or otherwise) has been lived as a true challenge. I could see how all these micro delays were putting this overall goal at risk. At some point it became clear that I would not be done in 4 years. I was comforting myself by saying it was ok, since I took an 8-month break (to focus on growing the business I co-founded a few years before - another thrilling but nerve-wracking story adding to the PhD journey). I thought: If I make it in 4 years and 8 months, it will kind of be the same as 4 years (I will be in my thirties though, but well, who cares after all?).

But then that 'new goal' also slipped away. Like a mirage, an oasis in the desert, I felt the end was always moving away. I panicked a bit before my 5-year milestone, but it seemed so close now! Closer than ever! I stayed hopeful and continued my walk in the desert towards the mirage. And this was it. 64 months in, I submitted my thesis.

Most of the people around me (outside of academia) had been constantly asking me if I'd be done soon, even from the very beginning. (I guess the word that we should never ask a PhD student if he/she will be done soon has still not spread enough. I hope you are taking note.) I think that by the end, my irritation was obvious when I tried to explain to them that a PhD is not a 6-month endeavour I almost threw myself into the arms of the few persons I met afterwards who told me "Wow, this was fast" when I mentioned getting it done in 5 years, or so. Yes, it was (relatively) fast (for social science and qualitative studies), thank you, finally! How weird it was to find that it was 'fast', though it felt so slow.

I guess that those delays are harder for time-urgent individuals, having a preoccupation with the passage of time, deadlines, and the rate that tasks must be performed (Mohammed 6 Harrison, 2013). Time-urgent individuals are "chronically hurried, trying to fulfill all of their ambitions and commitments under deadlines situations that they have often created" (Waller Conte, Gibson, & Carpenter, 2001, p. 589). Well, this is me (and I am not so alone in academia, am I?): committing to so much, and struggling to get everything done on time.

Time urgency is regarded as a stable individual difference, but I'm working on myself to be more flexible with time. Because academia is filled with expanding delays and long timeframes, I need (and am getting) to be more comfortable with all this.

After the PhD (future perfect thinking)

Seeking order, clarity and rationality is an important goal of sense-making (Weick, 1995). These three have been lacking so much throughout my PhD. This essay gives an overview of what the sense-making process has been for me. But given that sense-making is a process, it is continuous and never stops.

According to Weick (1995), we make sense of the future by thinking retrospectively about it, which corresponds to future perfect thinking. Even when thinking about the future. we imagine it as being in the past.

My PhD has set me on what will be a long and fulfilling academic career. I will work on fascinating topics, contribute to build knowledge around organisations, teach students with a never-fading passion. collaborate with brilliant colleagues and contribute to academic life in many ways. I can see it as if it were already past. I know struggles will be real, as well, but at least the PhD experience gives us part of the means to continue on this journey

Footnote

*Corresponding author: Julie Delisle, Email: [email protected]

5. Four years is the expected duration of the PhD in administration in Canada. It includes more than 1 year of coursework, a synthesis exam, a thesis proposal and the research work.

References

References

Mohammed, S. & Harrison, D. A. (2013). The clocks that time us are not the same: A theory of temporal diversity task characteristics, and performance in teams. Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, /22(2), 244-256. doi: I0.l0l6/j.obhdp.20l3.08.004

Putnam, L. L., Myers, K. K. & Gaillard, B. M. (2014). Examining the tensions in workplace flexibility and exploring options for new directions. Human Relations, 07(4), 413-440. doi: I0.II77/00I87267I3495704

Waller, M. J., Conte, J. M., Gibson, C. B. & Carpenter, M. A. (200I). The effect of individual perceptions of deadlines on team performance. Academy of Management Review, 26, 586-600. doi: I0.2307/3560243

Weick, K. E. (I995). Sensemaking in organizations. University of Michigan, Sage.