How To Write (And Finish) A Dissertation In 9 Months

I started writing my dissertation in August of 2010 and I finished the first draft February 2011 and submitted the next to final draft in April of the same year.  The April submission was the one I defended one month later in East Lansing, MI to an audience of 12 or so people.  How did I do it?  Simply put...I sat my ass down in a chair and wrote.

And I wrote and wrote and wrote until my behind grew a bit bigger and the pages increased in numbers.  But, there was a game plan to my madness that I found worked for me and maybe it can work for you (depending on your committee and requirements).

I decided to stay in the UK to write as I had a job as a researcher and social policy analyst.  My partner was also with me having given up his job in the US and obtaining a 3 year work permit.  We wanted to make a new life in the UK and I had no intentions of returning to the US (well at that time).  Come the summer of 2010 I discovered one my committee members was leaving the university at the end of the 2011 school year so I knew I really needed to get my dissertation in before he left or risk putting someone on my committee who I did not know at a late stage in my degree.  This ended up happening anyway - and lucky the person who came on was amazing and didn't try to change anything.

Given all of this I made a work plan and stuck to it like white on rice (cheesy but effective).  After doing an outline of the chapters and what should go into them I focused on a chapter a month.  Really, this is do-able if you have transcribed your interviews along the way and written out your field notes (this I HIGHLY recommend you do). 

Each chapter was reviewed by my major adviser the following month and we had a phone meeting scheduled in each month to review the submitted chapter.  This meant a continuous write, hand-in, phone meeting, revise routine. But this allowed me to be accountable to someone and to get feedback early enough in the process to stop me from going in the wrong direction.  I wrote chapters out of order as the theory and methodology chapters were much easier to write then the data or introduction.  And really, the conclusion won't come until you have done multiple drafts of the other chapters. 

But, I was not just writing full time. I also had my job.  This meant my brain and fingers were always going and my ass was always glued to a seat.  Not my ideal situation, but it made me keep to a schedule as I had no time to just wallow solely in dissertation misery.

Seven months later I had enough of a draft to send out to the full committee.  By March 1st I was sitting in my home office on Skype with them to discuss my work.  I was full of hope since I had been revising along the way but that hope was quickly crushed by the onslaught of critique I endured (mainly from members of my committee who had refused to give me feedback along the way).  Multiple things were not up to par for members of committee- primarily in the way I wrote up my findings.  I was not strong enough in the delivery and too timid in the use of the information I presented.  I agree with most of it - I was too tired to argue much and I just wanted the damn thing passed.  I said give me a month and I will give you want you all want.  Everyone was skeptical I could turn it around in time to defend.  I wasn't though  -I wanted to be out of school and working so I took a month off of work and just wrote.

I wrote and wrote and wrote, working 12 hour days in my office.  Rockstar energy drinks and popcorn became my new best friends and I was permanently in sweatpants and t-shirts.  I focused on the critiques I was given and made sure to address them in my revisions.  I added two new chapters and fixed the hell out of my others.  In 31 days I produced the document that would allow me to defend. But - and this is KEY - I also submitted with the dissertation a one-page document outlining the 5 major issues the committee found with the first draft. I then said how I addressed each of those issues and gave the exact location in the dissertation where those changes could be found.    This made my committee happy and as they all say - happy committee happy life.

So there you go - writing a dissertation in nine months, or less, is do-able.  But before I go I just want to impart a few lessons I learned along the way, some of which  you might (or most likely) have heard already. 

1) The dissertation is NOT your life's work - it is the BEGINNING
     
        I think too many times grad students think that dissertation has to be perfect and is the culmination of your life's work.  That is ridiculous - you have never written a dissertation before (unless you have already received a PhD and then if so you are ridiculous for getting another).  This is a learning process and the dissertation is evidence that you know how to conduct a research project and write up the results in a suitable manner for you field.

2) Your dissertation topic DOES NOT HAVE TO BE your life's work

        After spending anywhere from 3 to 10 years on one topic you just might become sick of that topic. It's normal and apart of life.  Your future research, if you choose to still remain in research, does not have to be on the same topic(s) as your dissertation.  Again, the dissertation is about showing you can do research and the skills you learned should be transferable.

3) You DON'T HAVE TO GO INTO ACADEMIA if you don't want to....and you are not a "failure" if you don't

      This is a topic that comes up again and again amongst people I know.  When you started as a grad student you were most likely full of energy and hope.  You had some amazing vision of sitting in an office with books all around talking with students and coming up with theories.  This was heaven and you were working towards it.  Fast forward 5 to 10 years later and you are tired, annoyed, and trying to just finish your degree before you debt becomes astronomical.  Then, when you are done you realize you might not want to go right into the academy.  Maybe you want to take a few years and work in the public or private sector, for an NGO, or just bum around the world.  You know what - that's OK.  Again, how are you to know what you will feel in the future?  So, if your plans change roll with it.  But, don't allow others opinions to influence your life decisions once you have the diploma in hand.  Take what you learned during your studies and find the path that is right for you. 

4) You are MORE THAN your dissertation

     It's funny how easy this is to forget.  You are you and you is a multifaceted being.  What you research is just that - what you research. It is not who you are.  It's simply what you do, and only one aspect of what you do.  You also may sing, paint, run, read, tell funny stories, drink, smoke.  But your dissertation and graduate school is simply one aspect of what you do.  Remember that the next time someone is bragging to you about all the articles they have drafted while writing up 4 grants and reading Foucault on the side for fun.  Tell yourself that's what they do and be happy you do other things. Most of the time the talk is all for show. 

5) Check your EGO at the door

      Let's face it - if you want to complete a PhD you need to check your ego at the door.  You will be critiqued, critiqued and critiqued some more.   I found that you have to separate your personal feelings from the task at hand, which is to learn the necessary skills that will allow you to say you are an expert in a particular academic field.  This means you have to learn when and how to pick your battles and let your work, and not always your mouth, speak for itself.  Now, I have heard horror stories of committees not getting along and advisers not passing students.  I had my fair share of committee drama during my Masters defense.  But, if you can navigate the egos you will encounter in these processes then when you are done you can navigate just about anything.

So, this is just my two-cents on how I navigated the dissertation write-up.  Feel free to share your own experiences.  But to all those writing up I wish you well.  Keep truckin and remember...

My Body

It's the New Year.  As we all know the new year brings with it new (and old) resolutions.  Some people want to stop smoking, others learn yoga, travel, meditate, find a partner/break up with a partner...the list goes on and on.  But the number one resolution that seems to be pouring from newspapers, TV, the Internet, and people's lips is to...wait for it...LOOSE WEIGHT!  Now, I can't lie.  That is kind of one my resolutions as well and has been for the past 2-3 years.  But, being inundated with constant messages about loosing weight to feel great in the New Year got me thinking about my relationship with my body.  If I had to give it a Facebook status I would say "it's complicated."

I'm 6'3" - I've mentioned this before I'm sure.  I am also a female (just in case you forgot).  My hair is curly, my skin is brown, and my mouth is loud.   Over the years I have loved, hated, despised, embraced, hated, despised, loved, embraced, hated, despised...you get the point...my body.  During the down times I realize I detested my body because I felt it did not look or feel feminine enough.  My body was too tall, my shoulders too broad, my hair too short - or if long it was too curly and big, my weight too high.  OH WEIGHT - really it mostly boiled down to that fact that I was just too damn big to be feminine.  To be a female and be comfortable in my femaleness.  Even at my leanest I still, at times, felt too big because my body was strong and muscular due to long sessions at the gym and on the trail and the woman around me small and petite and able to fit into a size 6

But, it's a new year after all and so I decided a new year needs new ideas and beginnings.  For the past three years I have belittled myself internally for gaining and loosing weight.  For starting and stopping training programs.  For allowing stress and school/work to get in the way of my body's well being.  But all that has left me with is frustrations, self-doubt, and a pain in my ass (from the sciatica).  Then I read two interesting articles that, after letting them ruminate in my mind for a bit, made me rethink this whole resolution thing.

The first was a blog post from Jezebel called "A Call to Arms (and Abs, Quads, Calves and Shoulders)."  The author writes about her own frustrations with lady fitness magazines always having articles about loosing weight - and not about being ft and healthy.  For a woman, working out = loosing weight and looking good FOR OTHER PEOPLE.  But what about all the women who work out to build muscle, jump higher, run longer/faster, climb better, swim harder.  What about women who work out cause they want a strong body that allows them to keep moving into old age?  What about woman who want to challenge their mind, body and soul?  Who want to push their limits and see what they can do?  What about all the women who dont' give a rat's ass about being a size 2 but want to see if they can bench 200lbs?

Reading that article over and over again I realized...shit that's me!  I want to see how long I can run for, how much I can push my physical and mental being.  I want to see muscle replace fat in order to make my body move in ways I can only imagine. I want to be 70, 80, hell maybe even 90 and running ultramarathons in random places around the globe.  I realized, finally, I just want to be me.

But, I was only half way there.  I still saw myself as a fat slob, a blob, that was doomed to repeat this damn cycle over and over again.  During the holiday season I was gluttonous - eating whatever was in front of me and drinking even more. I constantly woke up hungover, either from food, drink or both.  I told myself I was "relaxing," but really I was depressing (myself).  I ran once, lifted twice, and felt like shit three times over.

Then New Years Eve hit and I looked at Mike and said, "Dude after tonight I can't keep doing this.  Something's not right and I feel like crap."  Mike looked at me and replied, "That's good but you got to start loving yourself more for this to stick.  You got to love you for you now, and not what you want to be."  DAMN...the truth hurts.

Three days later, as if the universe wanted to smack my upside the head some more, I saw an article in the Daily Mail (yes I read it sometimes) about...loving yourself slim.  Basically it was the long form of Mike's advice - you can't reach your goals until you love yourself for who you are at that moment.  It makes sense really.  How am I going to lean out, and stay lean, if I am constantly critiquing and ridiculing my body?  How am I going to run longer if I keep telling myself I am to slow, to big, to knock-kneed to increase the miles?  It's self-sabotaging.  If I think I am fat and will always be fat and will never be able to run past a certain mileage or a certain time then I won't.  Why?  Because the slightest hick-up will be made into an end-all-be all, an all or nothing and I'll fall off the wagon (again).  It's with anything in life.

Finally, I saw an article (the same night) in The Guardian about bad-ass Ironman athlete Chrissie Wellington.  This woman has won Kona three times (the first win was her first time in the race), has set numerous records around the goal, and is just overall my hero.  She makes no qualms about her body and embraces her faults.  She strives to push her body to the limits and is considered by many to be the greatest female endurance athlete on the planet.  Not bad for a woman who didn't even start doing athletics until her 20s!

I guess the point of this long rant is that I decided to make a new, New Years Resolution.  Instead of striving to loose X amount of weight in Y amount of time and getting frustrated if that does not happen, I instead resolve to love my body more.  Just pure and simple LOVE.  LOVE every inch of my height, every amount of flesh, every strand of my curly (quickly greying) hair.  In doing so I make it a priority to treat my body with respect - and respect for me is washing it, caring for it, watching what I put in my body, and working it out so it does not become stiff and underused.  The more I love my body the more my body will love me.  I think that's a resolution I can, and should, stick to.

What do you resolve to do in 2011?

Goodbye 2010...Hello 2011

As the New Year closes so does my brain.  I have been on "holiday" since December 18th from my job and since the 23rd from my dissertation.  During this time I have ate a lot, drank a fair bit, worked out a little and overall felt tired, bloated, annoyed, anxious, excited and...dare I say hopeful!

2010 has been a year of ups and downs, like more years.  I started the year hiking a mountain in the snow in Northwest Wales. By March I had run a half marathon in Prague and trimmed 25 lbs off my frame.  April hit and with it a hip injury that only progressively got worse over the year due to my stubbornness and not properly resting.  By late June I visited the States, saw some family and friends, and met my advisor who told me my initial outline of my dissertation was crap.

It was here that I began my anxiety ridden second half of the year.  July was full of festivals, data transcriptions and theoretical readings.  By August I had turned the big 2-9, wrote my first chapter, and I dropped out of my second half marathon.  September thru December was more of the same same, but different.  I continued to write, work, work out less, went on a few walks, became more irritated, dabbled in yoga, and then wrote some more.

Now I sit here on December 30, 2010 writing some more and planning to stop soon because it is just making me more annoyed.  But, the good thing is the dissertation is there. I am really just now making massive edits to the five chapters I have and plodding through until February 7th when I submit the first full daft to my entire committee.   For the New Year I intend to write a bit more, run a hell of a lot more, get a dog, graduate with my PhD and finally....just finally...maybe I can just be and enjoy my life.

But really Katt Williams says it best...




What do you hope the new year will bring you?

Stroke, Float, Sink...Repeat

The cold weather is slowly setting in throughout the Southwest over here in the good-old UK.  Barefoot running is more like numb foot running and my hips are acting up to much for me to even enjoy the sport at the moment so my runs have become minimal.  So I am trying to make the pool my friend at least once a week to take the pressure of my joints while I get the blood flowin and the heart pumpin.

Problem is...the water and I aren't friends or really even associates yet.  We have this weird relationship.  If I don't visit the pool on a regular and consistent basis then when I do get in I feel as if she is going to swallow me whole and then spit me out.  It's like she is back handing me and making me feel bad for cheating on her with the rowing machine or free weights.  I then feel I need to tell her it's not her...but me.  My confidence in the still body of water is still minuscule.  I can kick and stroke but not for very long or very far and if I can't put my feet on the floor then I don't go in...PERIOD.

However, that has to change because I have gotten this crazy idea in my head that I want to learn how to row next year and I want to join the Bristol women's rowing club.  But to take the learn how to row class I need to be able to swim 100 meters in light clothes - makes sense if I am to be in a BOAT in the middle of a BODY of WATER.

Now some of you might be thinking "Why would you want to learn to row if you don't necessarily like the water?"  Answer: "Why the hell not?"  See I miss a team sometimes.  I miss the camaraderie between teammates and the fun of being active with a group of people.  Plus, it's a good way of making friends in a new place where I am still learning the local ways of...making friends.  Besides, it just looks cool.

I mean let's face it - I taught myself to run long distances even when doctors told me I might not be able to even walk properly again.  I jumped out of a plane twice in one day attached to another person.  I got myself on a bike at age 27 and learned to not fall of.  I made myself get in the water and learned to at least get my feet off the floor and kick not long after.  I even found myself on a side of a mountain in snow on a new years morning with no crampons and a bad fear of heights, and got back down without killing myself.  So I figure if I can get myself to make the water my friend then I can find myself one day in the middle of a lake in a row boat with 5 other women working up a sweat and getting some definition back into my shoulders and back.

Today I got back into the pool.  Second time in two weeks.  I said hi to the water, took a deep breathe, and pushed off the wall all by myself.  I had Mike stand next to me instead of in front and I made it down and back again - stopping only 7 (ok maybe 8) times.  6 lengths total which is a nice start for me.  It's a shallow pool. I still have problems learning how to breathe, and my body gets tired quick with the new movements but dammit I will be able to swim 100 meters in light clothes so I can at least see if I can learn how to row a bit farther.  I'll keep you updated.

Oh and HAPPY AMERICAN THANKSGIVING to all...and to all a good day.

Storytelling

My dad was a man who use to tell stories.  Stories oozed from his lips like smoke from a cigarette.  Long drawn out stories from days gone past, my dad taught me about life through his elaborate tales.

I learned how to drink by listening to my dad recall his days of old.  My favorite? The time he says him and  two friends "accidentally" drank his grandpas potato moonshine.  From the "old country" my dad's grandpa liked to brew his own drink. To great-granddad beer was always room temperature and alcohol always homemade.  My dad was a skinny red head who didn't realize the difference between moonshine and regular vodka.  The only thing he remembered was drinking in the basement of his grandpas house and then waking up in his room in a rocking chair naked.  His car was on the front lawn and the front door wide opened.  His dad asked him what the hell happened and my dad replied "Well I was drinking grandpas vodka.."  His dad cut off by saying "that shit is pure moonshine.  Surprised your not dead."  The hangover lasted 3 days.  Lesson: Don't drink shit you don't know.  Easy enough.

My dad also taught me the fine art of enjoying my liquor.  To him a good woman should know how to drink whiskey straight and play blackjacks.  When I was 10 he sat me down with his good Jack Daniels cards (ones we were NEVER allowed to touch without him being present) and instructed me on the fine art of blackjack.  He showed me when to hit and when to call, and tried to guide me in the practice of bluffing (or what it also know as bullshitting).  These transferable skills of bullshitting are ones  I call upon often in academic writing.  I use my understandings of whiskey on the weekends to recover from the bullshitting performed during the week.

I also learned to appreciate the musical artform known as country.  A hard core country (and Elvis) listener, my dad always had 99.5 US 99 blasting from the radio on all car trips.  Brooks and Dunn, Garth Brooks, Wynona Judd, Reba MacEntire, and Trais Tritt were all some of my favorite singers in the 80s and 90s.  As the years went on I leaned away from my country roots, letting the opinions of others influence my music preference.  But then I moved to the South and my relationship with country was mended.  One of my dad's proudest moments was when I called him to tell him I bought my first real pair of cowboy boots at a cowboy store in Baton Rouge.  He told me "good job" and then proceded into another story about his first part of cowboy boots.  Apparently they were a bitch to break in and the first few times he put them on he looked like he was crapping his pants cause he was walking so bad.  So his advice was to start off small and break them in.

Being a know-it-all I didn't really listen to the story and its lesson until it was to late.   I was on the streets of New Orleans during Halloween in so much pain all the whiskey in the world wouldn't cure.  I still have the scares of the multiple blisters that appeared on my feet that night.  But I broke them damn boots and have been stompin in them every since.

I loved my dad's stories as they took me to other places and times.  When I was kid all I could every dream about was getting out of the Southside of Chicago and into the world.  Books, school and my dad's stories let me escape.  When he died I decided I needed to stop living in book and through his stories and make some stories of my own.  So I took a little backpacking trip to Guatemala 6 months after the funeral and it was there, in the back of a chicken bus on a old mountain road that I realized something that I have kept special in my heart to this very day.

I realized that I am my father's daughter...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Gentle

While I was in yoga class today attempting to "relax" into a side bending, squatting, stretching pose (don't ask me the name cause I don't have a clue) I had a revelation.  I don't think it was the big  "Enlightenment" but rather a small "enlightenment" that made me realize I need to be much gentler with myself.   Let me explain.


Over the years I have engaged in numerous sporting events.  Basketball and softball throughout high school and volleyball all through college.  I attempted rugby at one point and considered playing football (American) during these times as well.  The list of injuries I accumulated is a never-ending one: concussion (I mean who slides into a brick wall instead of home plate?), sprained ankles, dislocated fingers, busted nose, strained shoulder, and one broke back and dead leg.  But I always thought, well I seem to heal fast so what the hell - just keep going.


Then somewhere in the back of my mind I realized that maybe team sports were not the way to go.  College volleyball wore me out, mentally and physically, and the thought of having to be on one more team with one more bitchy coach left a bad taste in my mouth. So I turned to running.


Running.  A sport of individuality that can be done in a group but you compete on your own. No fancy equipment really needed, just some decent shoes and breathable clothes, open space and on you go. But, that back injury and dead leg thing from my college days stayed with me throughout my running.  Once that was somewhat under control I then developed...fuckin sciatica!  So now I can put that to the list of injuries along with a tight IT band on my left side and a pinch nerve in my right shoulder (who in the hell pinches a shoulder nerve in running?  I do) and tense neck muscles.  Essentially I am verging (or am I already there) on being a HOT...ASS...MESS.


Today in yoga as my body protested with every upward dog, downward dog, side bend, back bend, kneeing and sitting posture it hit me that I need to be more gentle with myself.   Gentle is a word I don't use when describing my relationship with myself.  I go hard or go home - not use to any other way of understanding how to do things.  I powered through my education, never stopping on the quest to a PhD and I am making my deadline of finishing before 30.  I powered through grief of loosing my dad and of trying to loose all the weight it took me years to put on.  Now I am fully aware that my body just can't power through another damn run or gym session when it is obviously telling me to slow (or sit) the fuck down and chill out.  I think it is time to listen this time around.


So I am re-evaluating my physical activity goals and giving myself a bit more flexibility in my time frame for all those competitions I want to do.  I am keeping up this yoga thing cause "everyone" tells me it is good for my body and mind.  Even though I wanted to throw up and sit down at the same time while in class today I have to agree.  Come on, where else would I learn that I not only have tight hamstrings, tight hips, tight groin muscles but ALSO tight ankles (to the degree where me and child's pose are not even associates yet) and then LEARN how to "breathe" into the tightness to loosen it up?  


I could easily say F it and go back to what I know - pounding the roads and hitting the weights hard but...I really don't want to.  And that is a good thing I think.  Self-realization is a bitch, but when you actually start listening to your body the things it tells you are amazing.  So simple, yet so true.  That simplicity is what I forget sometimes.  Of course it makes more sense for me to take a few months and focus on my flexibility and hit the pool and bike to take the stress off my joints and nerves.  Of course it makes more sense for me NOT to train for my first marathon and run it while I am are also writing and scheduled to defend my dissertation so I can graduate after 12 years of higher education.  Of course it makes sense to practice activities that calm my mind so I can handle the current and impending stress.  But as my dad use to say...not all sense is common and not all people have sense. 

Work Plan

The hardest thing about writing a dissertation is trying to do to much.  I had a rough last week with overwhelming stress from writing and feelings of neglecting work and running.  This weekend I spent mostly in my house on my couch physically and mentally exhausted.  Downloading songs to run to from the 90s and early 2000s made me think back to times when I was less in my head and more in the moment.  It's amazing how powerful music is on the psyche and after an intensive downloading session Sunday afternoon I began to understand that I need to re-evaluate my work plan

So what is this work plan you ask?  Well, basically I don't need to do so much.  Period.  It really is simple in theory but harder in execution.  I am not writing a masterpiece and I don't want to. I actually can't stand the damn dissertation and once I am done want to go in a different research trajectory anyway.  This is not unusual  - after you spend anywhere from 5-10 years on a research project it essentially gets old and you move onto other interests.  I prefer to look more at economic inequality and the effects government policies have on disadvantaged communities if I were to take a research focused job.  I also prefer to write books - still figuring out what kind but I have an idea and a basic outline on paper for when I am finished with the dissertation.  Hell I wouldn't even mind writing speeches of press releases as long as I was able to use my brain and writing skills for some type of betterment of society.

But in the meantime I have to get my work plan in order.  Once running started to feel like another thing I needed to do I knew I had taken this school thing a bit to far.  Let's be real  - I am technically still a student and so I am technically still learning how to be a PhD.  The last step is learning how to write up a research project in a longer format than is really necessary.  Nothing more.  

But reality is setting in and once Mike has a job I will able to stop my current one and focus solely on finishing this degree.  Until that happens I know I need to calm my body and mind so I am starting yoga once again.  And I am practising on my breathing.  It's funny how the most basic thing a human needs to survive is one of the hardest things to learn how to do effectively.  

I can be dramatic, but last week was more than me being a dramatic Leo. It was a wake up call.  To slip in and out of depressive states at such an intensive rate is giving into the meanings other attach to life and not my own.  Lets be real - I don't want to do that.  When it comes down to it I want to listen to music, run in the woods, write in comfort and live a life that I can enjoy.  So I hope you all can enjoy a little bit of the music that reminded me of the joy of life this weekend.  

Birthday

I turn 29 Saturday.  Twenty flippin nine...and I'm still in school.  I've been in school since the age of 3 so my mother tells me.  Non-stop I have had a book in my face and a pencil/pen/keyboard in my hands.  As I near the end of this long (and I do mean long) relationship with education I find myself a bit confused and whole lot of tired.

Writing, that is all I do.  I wake up, get a cup of herbal tea, open my laptop, check the email/Facebook/newspapers for an hour and then start writing.  Sometimes I don't know what the hell I am writing, but I do know just seeing the page numbers increase makes me feel like I am doing something.  I treat it as another job - do something for at least 6-7 hours in the day, preferably between the hours of 9 and 5 and then stop.  Problem is I am also working in a "real" job that to requires me three days a week to do something in front of the computer, preferably between the hours of 9 and 5.  Balancing the work with school dissertation writing is already proving to be a bit to much, but what can you do when both need to get done and without one the other is just not as meaningful.

But this post is about my birthday.  I'm turning 29 in case you forgot - don't worry I do as well sometimes.  And...I'm still in school.  I don't know why but this is bothering me a bit more than usual.  I will graduate next May come hell or high water.  I can't stomach the thought of going into my 30s still in school, not taking a break since the age of 3.  It's like a bad haircut that you thought was the shit but over time realize that its a pain in the ass to up keep, expensive to boot, and the appeal start to slowly wear off making you just want to shave your head and start again.

I don't know what I want to do with my life if I am being honest.  I saw an education as way out.  A way out of the Southside, out of the State, out of my life.  I saw education as the ticket to a better life where I would be able to understand what was going on around me and contribute in a fruitful way rather than turn up another statistic.  Hell, so far education has lived up those expectations - I did get out and in the process traveld to places I would never had imagined, took up sports I deemed to be for other people not like me, met a man I would have never come across and moved to another country where I do have a part time job that has me knee-deep in politics, race equality and community activism.  Shit...I really couldn't have asked for much more.

But I am tired and it is wearing on me mentally and physically.  Education got me to where I am now, but I don't know if education will be able to get me to where I want to be.  That may sound weird cause really having the education is opening up my eyes to all the possibilities in front of me so I guess it will always get me to where I want to be, but I am not sure if that will leave me into the academy after I graduate next May.  The dream of being a professor is not there anymore and as I approach 30 the feeling gets stronger and stronger that the dreams of my 20s are quickly changing and morphing into new dreams for my 30s,  That is a little scary, but overall exciting as who in the hell know what will happen.

I feel as if I am saying the same thing over and over, but it is like I have to in order to get it into my head that it's ok to change - physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  I am still trying to come to terms with my physical changes and have just now realised I was self sabotaging myself every time I was getting closer to my "dream" goal size/ability.  I don't want to do the same with my career goals - I spent to damn long in school and racked up to much debt to allow that to happen. (Again Sam if you can help me with the to, too situation I would be very appreciative)

 So...I turn 29 on Saturday and all I want are good vibes and good times.  I want to reassure myself that I can finish this dissertation and that I can start a new career path, whatever that may be.  I can "not be in school" and I look forward to that day.  I don't expect some rosy life is easy picture to magically emerge once I leave school and enter into a job, but I do expect something different that still challenges me mentally.  As I leave my 20s I want to leave behind a lot of the insecurities and self doubt that plagued me and welcome my thirties with an open mind and heart.

Lost

I have to pull out of the Bristol half marathon.  My right hip can't handle the mileage or the pain at this point.  I realized this Sunday after running only 2 miles.  I stopped, looked at Mike and started to cry.  My frustrations crept up as I could feel my pace getting better and my stride becoming stronger, but my hip just gave up.  I stretched and started again, this time only lasting another 10 minutes before my run turned into a jog and then a pathetic limp.

It was then it hit me in the face that I have 5 weeks left and have only completed a 4 miler for a long run - that just won't cut it for the 13 mile event.  So I have to drop out and start again.

I'm waiting for the referral to a physio by the doctor I saw and need to go in and get x-rays done tomorrow of my right hip and lower back.  But I've been down this route before and know what I really need is another MRI, a full back X-ray and someone to readjust my hips and rehab my back.  That takes money I don't have and time I am loosing so I'll just have to make due and use my remedy of cutting the fat off my body, strengthening my core and stretching like crazy.  However I do need some professional help so I need this damn referral to get here sooner rather than later.

Honestly, it hurts a bit.  I had it in my mind to run this race and now that it is gone I am a little depressed.  I still plan to run Rome marathon next March and will start a 6 month progression program for that in September.  I am hoping by then to be in a rehab program that will work well with the training and have my shoulder in good enough shape to begin yoga once again (seems as if I tore something there but the doctor ignored it so I need to go back and have them look at that again - don't ask me how I did it cause I really don't know but it hurts like a bitch to raise my arm and I can't put weight on the damn thing).

Overall I am a little lost.  The writing is overwhelming - trying to balance it and working is hard at best. The running gave me some balance but now I need to cut down the mileage so I am turning to spinning as an alternative and hitting the trails when I can to keep the pressure of the road off my hip.  But it really doesn't feel the same as a long run on a Saturday morning...

I miss having close friends around and sometimes I go through periods of feeling utterly alone and hopeless.  I want my mom which is strange since I have been on my own for over 10 years, but I guess every girl wants their mom at some point in their life no matter how fucked up or strange that relationshop.  I try and go out but I get annoyed as I'm not drinking and I'm tired of people trying to push a drink down my throat or asking me the same boring ass questions week after week-  "Where are you from?  How long have you been here?  Do you like it here?  What do you study?"  I've learned to never ask those questions to others as just trying to spit out those words makes my skin crawl.

Ok, so I am in an annoyed mood that may pass - don't know when but it will pass...

Graduation

May 6, 2011.  This is the date that I will be graduating with my Ph.D in Anthropology (specialising in socio-cultural aspects of race, racism, identity, citizenship, and nation) from Michigan State University.  About 2 weeks ago I had a skype meeting with my adviser and we both agreed that I can push hard these next few months and get it done.  After 6 years at MSU and 12 (DAMN) years in total since I graduated high school I will finally end my love-hate relationship with studenthood.

Am I ready?  Simply put...HELL YEA.  My entire 20s have been spent within the academy.  I'v raked up student loans in excess of $70,000 WITH fellowships in ever year but this last one (not even sure of this figure but that is the bare minimum I know I will be paying back). have moved states and now countries, loss my dad, found my soul mate, loss some weight, gained some of it back, and now am loosing it again, and in general have grown a hell of a lot.  And, I'm tired of being a student.  Tired of being broke, relying on fellowships and loans to get by on.  I'm tired of being underpaid based on the fact that I am a student (cause come on those TAships are a joke with all the work you do).  But I have learned something valuable in all the jobs I have taken- unless you realize your own value no one else will - Period.

So this next 10-11 months will entail me writing my ass off.  I signed up for the Bristol half marathon and will do the Rome marathon March 20, 2011 as a way to have something else to also aim/train for alongside the writing and working.  Balance is key and Lord knows I have forgotten that far to often when deadlines start to approach and stress levels create blinders that allow me to forget that I have a life outside of work/school.  This summer challenge with the following one in winter helps me remember to keep eating healthy food and work out.   Running saved my life so I make that  a priority and not just an extra thing I do if I THINK I have the time because really one can make time for anything they actually prioritize.

But you may be asking - will I really finish?  Again...HELL YEA.  Why?  Because it is not in my reality no to (Sam is this the right form of "to"?).  I can actually picture myself giving the defence, passing, turning in the dissertation to the grad school, getting my fancy cap and gown, and walking across that stage with a big smile on my face and most likely a little tear in my eye.  Thoughts become things and my thoughts are completely  focused on getting done and getting a job that I enjoy and allows me to pay my bills and live a comfortable life.

When I finish I will be 29 years old, 3 months shy of turing the Dirty 30.  I will close one chapter of my life and begin another.  I wonder what my 30s will bring...

Summer Challenge 2010

I did it again.  I went and signed myself up for another challenge to coincide with my training for the Bristol half marathon in September.  Some of you may recall the winter challenge I did over the holiday season at the end of last year through the Burn the Fat Inner Circle online community that my favorite health guru Tom Venuto is in charge of (see picture on right).  It's simple really - I had to get my weight and body fat, calculate my lean body mass and my fat, do my body measurements, state my long and short term goals, and then take pictures of myself in my underwear from the front, side and back (lovely).  I posted this all to a thread with my name and after 98 days I do this all again and see how much my body has transformed over that time.

The last challenge was a success and helped me to kickstart my body transformation - it will take me a year to reach my goals so I am a 1/3 of the way there.  the past 3 months have seen me at a plateau - not really losing but not gaining so it's time for another kick start.

Now I have 14 weeks (98 days) to reach my short terms goals.  That involves shedding 14-28lbs (1-2 lbs a week), 6-7% body fat (.5% per week), and finishing this challenge with my second half marathon (where I plan to run the whole thing, no walking).  It's nice to have this to help me along the summer.  Usually people lose weight over the summer cause its hot and you are outside more.  The past few summers I have actually gained due to drinking in excess which leads to eating in excess. Plus I was in Michigan working on my dissertation and teaching, so being outside was not something I actually wanted to do.  My trip to SE Asia last summer left me even more depressed because I saw how much I had let myself go, making traveling more uncomfortable than enjoyable.

I learned alot from that trip and so am glad it happened the way it did - I can't allow a place to dictate my happiness and lease on life.  I was miserable in Michigan and blamed it on being in Michigan.  That was only part of it as I had said the same thing about Louisiana, Chicago, D.C. and Wisconsin - it was always the location I was in that was making my unhappy.  The real problem was that I hadn't made peace with myself - made peace with the fact that I was once very large, made peace with the fact that my dad had passed, made peace with the fact that I didn't "need" friends to rely on me for support, made peace with the fact that I am sensitive (cause I am you know).  I mean I had to make peace with myself and not take the easy way out and think once I moved/traveled I would all of a sudden be happy and lean.  Traveling through SE Asia I saw that I was miserable and my misery was of my own doing - I was hot, overweight, out of shape, hair a mess, and had pink eye (that actually really did suck).  When I arrived in Bristol none of that magically changed for the better.  I was living in a living room with Mike on a blow up air mattress with another couple who had 2 pain in the ass cats with no job prospects for Mike and no idea how to start "doing" fieldwork.  Again, my problems didn't just go away once I hit the shores of the British Isles.  After 2 weeks of feeling sorry for myself I got going with Mike - hunted down apartments, set up utilities, looked for work and got myself a gym membership.   Once I started to take care of my body again  - working it to its max and fuelling it with whole foods - other parts of my life started to fall in place.  The depression began to lift and I started to see more opportunities appear.  Thought do become things so for me working on my body connected to me working on my mind, allowing various positive things to manifest before me.

So back to this challenge - I am doing it to keep my mind and body inline with one another.  Especially now that I am starting to write up my dissertation.  Gradation is May 6, 2011 and I will be walking across that stage with diploma in hand.  The next 11 months are going to be a roller-coaster ride of writing, working, running, lifting, and traveling.  I use this challenge as one way of outlining the first 3 months of this longer 11 month journey to ending my student career.  Now, first things first - a trail run on this Bank Holiday (aka Memorial Day in the US) and then working on a grant for work.  Work it out!

Academia

I'm at work and just finished reading the "The Long Haul", an article published in The New York Times on April 8, 2010.  While reading it two paragraphs grabbed me, hit me on the head, and then placed me back into my seat with a new found reassurance in my recent decisions/revelations about my future career prospects.  Have a read:
Dr. Pannapacker has rebuked graduate schools for perpetuating a culture in which unattainable academic careers are portrayed as the only worthwhile goal, and for failing to level with students about their true prospects. With more transparency — if every graduate program published its attrition rate, average debt of its students, time to completion, and what kind of job its graduates got — undergraduates, he says, could make more-informed choices.
“Academe encourages students to think of what they’re doing as a special kind of calling or vocation which is exempt from the rules of the marketplace,” he says. Those who look to work outside the scholarly world are seen as rejecting the academy’s core values. “They socialize students into believing they can’t leave academe or shouldn’t, which is why they hang on year after year as adjuncts, rather than pursue alternative careers.” 

Now, this is what I am talking about!  Over the past year I have been going through a see-saw battle with myself over my future.  I am coming to the end of a 10 year run in academics where, when finished, I will have accumulated 4 degrees in the same damn subject (but at least in different sub-fields to give myself some credit).  In that time I have been trained to think in these unrealistic, stifling, and bank breaking ways.  To mention that I MAY not want to work in academics the rest of my life left many other graduate students and some professors in a tissy - how dare I not want to work the rest of my life in an institution where I work 60+hour weeks for little pay in a competitive environment where only a few people will every read my work and I am always critiqued.  Even if I do get to the high status role as a professor I will be 60 and ready to retire since I would have had at least 1 heart attack, 2 nervous breakdowns, a head full of grey hair and a chronic pain in my ass from sitting in front a computer for my whole adult life.  Looking at it in this light I realized I am flippin crazy to invest all my time and energy into a disciple that doesn't want to return the love back.

Listen, I am not naive enough to think any career will love me back.  But I am also not naive enough (now) to think that just because I obtain this magical Ph.D after 6 years at Michigan State University I will somehow get a fabulous job in a university with my own office and instant respect.  And, I am not sure if I even want the dream to come true.  Working in the job I have now as part of my research showed me the value of my skills - those skills being reading and writing well.  It also showed me there is life and money outside academics...and I like it. I like coming home and (for the most part) having my work stay at work. I mean what a concept - most work is done at work and when you come home you can actually enjoy being at home.  I like having my weekends to myself and not worrying about the next paper deadline - ok I still worry since I am in the final year of my dissertation and I need to publish for technical reasons, but you get my drift.  I like the work I am doing and I can see the value in marketing the skills I have learned in this long ass process called graduate school.  And, you know what I actually want to make some money and do some good and not have my finances dictated by another university, period.  No, I don't feel bad about trying to make a comfortable living and enjoying my life.

I guess the point of this rant is to say that there is life outside of the academy.  If you do want, or decide to, go into academics I think you need a clear reason why and more than one exit plan once that degree is done.   In those different plans realize that non-academic jobs are out there and waiting for your CV/Resume to come into those doors.  You will be amazed at what you CAN do OUTSIDE the ACADEMY once you think outside the box. If your argument to me is that higher education breeds knowledge and eduction is the ticket to a successful life I counter by saying the real success is knowing how to use that education to YOUR advantage and not going along the same old tired ass narrative that historically and in the present day is still inherently prejudice.   Yes, I have gained plenty of knowledge along the way but knowledge for knowledge sake can be learned outside of four walls as most of the time the knowledge you really want comes outside of a classroom.    
NOTE: I do want to add - these are my opinions and I am talking about my experiences within the U.S.  I am not attempting to be comprehensive but really to work through how I am understanding my journey in higher education.  What I have learned in my time in the academy has been very valuable and I would not change it, but most of it was actually learned outside of the classroom and in my navigation of the politics and discrimination (based on class, race, and gender) inherent within the process.   The world "outside the academy" is not going to magically be better but it is a sector that I wish to explore and where I want to utilize my skills - that's all.  Having the article in the New York Times speak to issues that are talked about in lounges, coffee shops, and during breaks in class or at conferences is comforting as it lets me know that I am not crazy for thinking the way I do.  Work is work and to get anywhere in life there needs to be work done, but I want the work I do to mean something to me and not just be another checkbox on my CV.  Having seen a professor have a heart attack over the stress of the job, another be pushed out as chair because others in the department didn't like the "new guys" politics, and having been told to me face that I will never amount to anything in the academy I choose to leave it behind for a while when I am done.  I may come back, but for my own sanity and growth the separation between myself and the institution of higher education is one that needs to be done.  

Stress

Stress is a pain in the ass.  For me stress has become one of those friends that you know you have to talk to but you really can't stand being around them for more than 5 minutes cause they have a high pitched voice that makes you just want to bash their face into a concrete floor to numb the pain from your ears...  Ok, maybe I took that a little to far, but you see what I mean.

I am in the process of organising my first conference.  Collaborating with a senior researcher from London Southbank University  we are putting on a conference called: Exploring Race and Ethnicity through the Arts on June 10th.  I will be debuting my first short story called "Uncomfortable" which Samantha Moy and Celeste Ramos have both helped tremendously on in editing and fine tuning.  I submit the story to an anthology of short stories about the experiences of mixed race women in North America.  If I am accepted it will be my first published piece!  If I am rejected it will be my first rejection of a short story that I submitted as a published piece - so either way a milestone is done.

On top of that I am working 3 days a week for an organisation as a researcher/grant writer/policy analysts/office bitch (oh did I say that), drafting another version of a working paper for online publication, coming up with ideas for an article that I have to submit to a journal within the year as part of my obligations for student visa, and still working on my dissertation which is now going to have be done by May 2011 since one more of my committee members is leaving Michigan State to go onto greener pastures.  Then I decide to take up running as a personal sport so am training for another half marathon with a marathon in the works for next March along with trying to shed the last of this baby fat that has been clinging onto my body since birth.  Damn, I am tired just thinking about it.

But with all of this comes my good old friend stress.  Now I have had a long and hard relationship with this beast - at times it has motivated me and gotten me to finish that last assignment, submit that last grant, or complete that last requirement.  Other times it has given me headaches and stomach problems, made my hair start to turn grey, and made me want to go to sleep and not wake up in the morning.  Right now stress is making its way back into my life, but this time we need to re-evaluate our relationship.  I know people say you should meditate, do yoga, work out, or not take things so seriously.  But you know what that advice can flippin annoying sometimes.  What if you do take things seriously?  What if finding your "chi" is not everyone's cup of tea?  I do take things seriously - it is who I am.  If I do something and my name is attached to it then damnit I want it done well and with quality.  Working with other people to accomplish this will lead to a bit of stress as you negotiate between different perspective and ideas.  I do run, but you can only for so damn long in a day before you get tired and running everyday is not an option.  Meditation is cool, but I don't do it properly and I can't get my mind to calm down long enough to just "be".  Yoga - ah look at my other posts on yoga.

I have to accept that I am a person that can get stressed out, but through the stress I get things done.  Now, I am just trying to redirect my stress and not let others dictate where and how I can and should get stressed out.  By this I mean I can't let someone else freaking out then freak me out so we are two freaked out hot messes.  Trying to email people and negotiate with them on their ridiculous demands and questions can be a stress but I can't let that stress ME out.  I'll try that thinking for now and see how it goes.  If worse comes to worse I'll go off and find an abandoned log cabin somewhere in the woods and just "be"....for at least an hour and then come back to my email.

Training

It's been 12 weeks since I started my training program for the half marathon in Prague.  On Saturday morning, March 27th, at 11 am my foot will be on the starting line (well in the back of the pack) and I will run my first 13.1 mile race.  A flat fast 1 loop course in the heart of the city around the river, the race is suppose to have bands/music every kilometer and beer at the end (what more can you ask for).  But, as every cliche sport movies, or your old high school/college coach tells you, it is not about the destination but the journey.

My journey involved a 12 week training schedule that I started January 4, 2010.  Beforehand I was working out, trying to shed some weight from my frame and build a decent mileage base.  But once January hit I knew I had to get on a training program and then, well, stick to the damn thing until race day appeared.  I found a schedule that was do-able for a scared first timer whose longest run ever was a 4 miler, once, when I was "attempting" to train for a half marathon right before I left for a 3 week holiday to Thailand.  Needless to say a bad case of travellers diarrhoea on the way back and a long, hard, cold Michigan winter nipped that idea before it ever really got started.

But this time I told myself that I just had to suck it up and do the damn thing.  So run I did, along with the strength training and rehab on my hip.  With each mile I put in I discovered that I cold actually run!  It is an amazing feeling to know that the thing I see "other people who are smaller/faster/younger/older than me" do I can also do myself.

Through running I rediscovered my non academic side - the side of me that just likes to be active for active sakes.  To be sweaty and so physically exhausted that by 8pm on a Saturday night my bed looks a hell of a lot more enticing then a pub/bar, nice clothes, or makeup - and I don't feel "lame" or bad about it.  I found a new spark in life, even through the stress of fieldwork, reports, talks, and now the dreaded data analysis and write-up phase to come.  And you know what...it's kind of nice. It's nice to know that I can release from stress by putting on my trainers and going outside for a run or hike rather than sitting in a pub or in my living room drowning my sorrows in a pint, seeing the pounds pack on around my waist, and then having some more cause I feel overweight.

Now, I am not saying all is perfect in the little land of England - but it is stable and I like that.  Writing down in my running journal every run gave me a sense of accomplishment and as the weeks went on I could see my mileage slowly improving along with my times.  My feet felt lighter and my waist smaller.  The puffiness in my face began to disappear, wiping away the relics of a year of bad habits.  I found out over these past 12 weeks that I can start, and now finish, a running schedule.

So after Saturday I'll enjoy 2 days more in Prague, come back to Bristol and move house, prepare an article and a talk, and find another race to run.  Keeping the balance between career and personal life is hard at best, but I realised with the right training plan in hand all things can be possible.

Cities and Growing Older

It's amazing how growing older can completely change your outlook on life. When I was in my early 20s I thought I had my whole life planned out.  I was to get a Ph.d in Biological/Forensic Anthropology, work in a university and do cases on the side, get a man, and live in a big city doing "city things" (whatever the hell that means).  The outdoors and I did not get along and I was fine with that because I thought that I was not suppose to "do" the country.

In my mid-20s I was still on the city track, but the career focus took a slight turn.  I found out during my Masters program that I hated forensic anthropology, preferring to work with living people instead of dead.  I still wanted the Ph.D so I made a decision and switched my focus of study to Socio-Cultural Anthropology.  After three years at Michigan State I switched my focus even further - tossing the idea of examining the use of race in genetics research and changing it to understanding the intersections of national and ethnic identity within the UK.  Nothing really that drastic to be honest - I still saw myself with a Ph.D and working in the academy.

Now I am 28 and find my future to be more uncertain then when I was 20.  I am still studying and am in the middle of my fieldwork in England.  I love it and see myself really get more involved in issues of national identity, immigration, policy, ethnic identity, and ideas about democracy and civic participation.   So essentially I have gone from looking at dead people's skeletons to understanding how living people try to keep "others" out of "their country" - good stuff!  But what has drastically changed is my idea of where I want to live.  I find that I now don't like cities - I find them claustrophobic, sterile, and overwhelming.  Now I know cities are different all around the world, but the more I visit them the more I want to get out of them.  For me the countryside and the mountains replace architecture, busy city centers, and trendy nightclubs/bars.  Don't get me wrong, cities can be great  - but I realize it really is whatever floats your boat.  In my life, at this time, the concrete jungle is being replaced by rolling hills and mountainside valleys as places to explore and enjoy.  I am ok with this.  Who knows when I get older my feelings will certainly change again.  But until they do I plan to embrace my new tastes.

Me

I have tried many times to begin this blog, but didn't know what to talk about or what to do.  I see friends create them to update world travels, display new dishes they have made, or talk about the joys of new found motherhood.  But me, I had no idea what to talk about.  Then I had the famous "revelation in the shower" and realized I like to talk about, read about, and think about sports.  Yes, I am an academic and I can debate about anything from politics to race to nation to identity.  But really, in the long run it gets old...and who cares?  You are who you are - but that doesn't get you funded so I leave those debates in the academic and political realms of society.

Instead I want to talk about me - my actual life goals and what I want to get out of this life.  I have lost and gained weight over the past 6 years, thinking that if I was "smaller" I would be happier.  Instead I have found myself going up and down in emotions, hating life at one minute and then embracing it the next.  Exercising like a maniac and then eating and drinking myself into depression. The death of my father, graduate school, relationships - general life really - has placed me on a roller coaster. At one point I thought I had no control over the ride, no brakes or steering that would allow me to control the next direction.

Now, I have taken back the reins and re-evaluated this thing called life.  I have let fear, anxiety, uncertainty, and good old doubt kept me from doing the things I have only dreamed about.   What has been the difference you ask?  For the first time I have decided where I want to live and what I want to do. I moved to Bristol, England to finish my degree with no real intentions to leave. I decided what I wanted to study and now I am deciding what I want to do with this thing called life.  So I being my journey of conquering the fears that have held me back for so long.

I want to run in long distance races, compete in triathlons, learn yoga, become a spin instructor, rock climb, and climb mountains - no really climb real mountains around the world.  And why the hell not?  Life is worth living when you push your mind and body to the extremes.  Doctors told me I wouldn't be able to run with my knees, height, back, weight - but I run.  I was told I was not smart enough to get a Ph.d - but I am.  I was told I wouldn't get funded for my research - but I have.  So now I challenge myself to do the things that I have only dreamed about, and talked about, in a half-ass way. 

I start with a half-marathon.  The Prague Half Marathon to be exact.  March 28th, 2010. I paid the entrance fee, have a vision board created, a trainer working with me, and the fear of actually running 13.1 miles keeping me going.  So I use this blog to keep me honest, keep me motivated, and to keep track of my goals.   
Prague Half Marathon 2010