Don’t Understand Something? Write About It.
For most of my life, I assumed that the reason I couldn’t find information about certain topics online must be that I was the only person that didn’t understand those topics.
Academia in particular always felt like that.
It felt like a secret club that everyone else was already in, and my lack of basic knowledge was so unusual, I would definitely never be invited to join.
The primary reason I came to that conclusion was the fact that it was strangely difficult to find answers to basic questions about academia online. So difficult, in fact, I thought the only plausible explanation for the lack of basic resource material must be that everyone else already knew the answers to the questions I was asking. If that wasn’t the explanation, then why weren’t more people discussing the basics of academia online?
To be clear, it is relatively easy to find listicles about how to get into graduate school. In addition to reminding you to do as well as you possibly can on the relevant entrance exams, these posts typically include directions like, “Write a great personal statement”.
So let’s use the personal statement as an example of this phenomenon.
The graduate school personal statement
If you are a first generation student thinking about graduate school, you may not know what a personal statement is. You may have written some type of explanation about why you wanted to go to the undergraduate school of your choice, but it may not have been called a “personal statement” and may not resemble the graduate school version of this essay at all. So you’ll start watching YouTube videos, searching through random forums, and looking up different university guidelines. You may find people offering personal statement editing services or “consultations”. Then you’ll find other posts warning that these services are frowned upon. There is probably some nuance to what is considered acceptable and what isn’t that you won’t understand at all, but you aren’t looking for any paid services anyway, you are just trying to find examples or basic direction so you can figure out what personal statements are, how they should be formatted, and what yours should include. Ultimately, you’ll probably walk away from your research with the understanding that personal statements are different for every school and every program so there are no set rules, but if you mess yours up, you aren’t getting into a top graduate program. That takeaway will be very clear.
I probably don’t need to point this out, but “don’t mess up” is not an answer to the question, “How do I do this?”
Why is it so difficult to find practical information about academia and graduate school?
Maybe they are keeping this whole system vague on purpose.
This past weekend, I ran across a conversation on Twitter about how a large portion of what you do in a PhD program is teach yourself things. I thought this conversation was great for two reasons. First, it reiterated something I’ve noticed since I started this publication about academia: I’m not the only person that doesn’t know everything about academia. In fact, some people seem to be able to make it into the club without knowing everything (if PhD candidates are still feeling a need to teach themselves things regularly), so that is encouraging.
Second, the system may be set up this way on purpose.
There were a fair number of replies to people stating that “90% or more of a PhD program is teaching yourself things” that said something along the lines of, “That’s the point”. After all, we could argue that a PhD is a degree in learning. If you are on the cutting edge of an academic discipline, there won’t be anyone to teach you what to do next or how to do it. You are in a position to break new ground, so you’ll have to figure out how to break it yourself.
To some extent, I agree with this argument. In our personal statement example above, I obviously didn’t expect it to be easy. I always expect that there will be a fair amount of research, time, practice, and failure involved in figuring out how to do something you don’t know how to do. If you’re going to graduate school you need to be willing to research and spend the time it takes to teach yourself things, no argument there.
I’m less convinced that it is useful to make prospective students conduct their own extensive research but still not be able to find any actionable, useful information.
It would be one thing if we knew that everyone applying for every graduate school program had the exact same vague material available… but we know that isn’t the case. Even if schools don’t want to be prescriptive or clear about what they are looking for online, at least some of the applicants will be able to obtain that information. They will be able to ask their parent, sibling, or family friend for copies of their successful graduate school personal statements. In many cases, I would venture to guess they can probably obtain a copy of a successful graduate school personal statement for the specific program they are interested in, at the specific school they are interested in, simply by asking someone in their network. That is the power of knowing a network of academics.
While first generation students will eventually figure out what a graduate school personal statement is, learn how important it is, and find some example personal statements somewhere so they can teach themselves how to write one, first generation students are much less likely to find a perfect match for the program we’re looking into. There will be a fair amount of hoping for the best involved, even after extensive research.
What’s wrong with that, you ask? If a first generation prospective student is already struggling with imposter syndrome, the amount of work, anxiety, and alienation involved in trying to obtain basic information about putting together an application could ultimately lead them to decide this whole graduate school thing may not be for them after all. That is an outcome I think we should all be trying to avoid.
Maybe this club doesn’t like questions.
Whether we’re discussing academia, corporate America, politics, or a whole host of other powerful, hierarchical corners of the world, it is simply a fact that questions aren’t welcome everywhere. In some contexts, asking a “dumb” question may get you fired, or hold you back from a promotion you are seeking, or leave the wrong impression, or be culturally unacceptable. Even if there may not be any actual repercussions to asking a question, people in many environments operate under the belief that there could be negative consequences. And that belief in negative consequences works just as well as actual negative consequences to deter questions.
If you’ve ever been in a situation where people act like they know things they don’t know for some type of personal gain or to avoid a (real or perceived) negative consequence, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Honestly, who hasn’t been in a situation like that?
Obviously, getting into a competitive graduate school program involves proving that you are intelligent. So admitting that you don’t know how to do something that you know other people you are competing against already know (like how to write a personal statement) may be something you avoid doing. I can’t argue with that logic: people have generally had at least some life experience(s) that taught them it is safer not to admit what you don’t know.
But does admitting you don’t know how to do something so you can learn how to do it mean you are unintelligent? Actually, I think it means the opposite. It isn’t as if you won’t be able to learn how to write a graduate school personal statement, you just need some resources to teach yourself how. You’re still going to have to write it yourself, and you’ll be judged on your own story and the quality of your written product. If that written product and the rest of your application proves you are intelligent enough to get in, the fact that you needed a few example personal statements to get started is irrelevant. Ultimately there may be some stigma attached to asking “dumb” questions about academia, but it doesn’t make much sense.
There is only one way to learn things you don’t know: ask.
And if you’re already asking Google but can’t find any answers, it may be time to get creative.
How do we close information gaps?
Create the information we need as we go.
I think more people should write (or make podcasts or videos) about what they don’t know. Record the process of learning something or figuring out how to do something. Sure, this will include some level of admission that there is something “basic” you don’t know. But it will also include the story of how you learned that “basic” thing… and moved on to more complicated topics. I’m unsure how someone could hold the fact that you taught yourself how to do something against you in a future endeavor, but if they do, that endeavor may not be the best option anyway.
Talking or writing through questions, especially questions about vague, interdisciplinary topics that are difficult to just Google, is very helpful. When a topic is brand new to you, you may not know where to begin or even the full extent of what you don’t know about that topic. Writing things down as you go can really help with organization.
You should also share that writing.
It may be too soon to say that this experimental publication you are currently reading is working, but since starting The Aspiring Academic in May, I’ve learned more about academia than I was ever able to learn previously. After I started writing down my questions about graduate school and academia, I realized there were other questions I needed to answer before those. Although there isn’t a large audience for this publication currently, something about the fact that I’m publishing this process online as I go adds a level of discipline that my writing would not have if I was randomly jotting things down in a journal. Sure, this is still a casual publication written in my own voice and style, but the requirement to fully explore a topic, organize my thoughts, and formally publish it online helps me learn and retain what I’m learning.
It also holds me accountable to keep learning.
While I do believe that sharing my writing about this topic I don’t know much about is helping me, the ultimate reason I decided to do this was for the benefit of others. My goal is to create the information I need as I go, so that others will also have that information. Hopefully, someone searching for more detail about the vague, interdisciplinary topic that is academia may find something written here that helps them on their own journey in the future.
What have you tried to teach yourself but haven’t been able to find resources to do so? Would you consider creating those resources yourself, as you go? If you already are taking this approach to a topic, let me know. I would love to follow along with your project.
