Bitch, Ph.D. comments and academom responds to the issue of getting a graduate degree while simultaneously raising children. Dr. B ends with this observation:

because, though I hate to say this, academia is not the easiest field for women with kids, especially in the plural; and graduate school, especially when you’re still doing coursework, is probably about as bad as it gets. You might get the degree, but in all honesty it’ll probably end up being seen a vanity degree: you’ll have worked your ass off to finish, but while you were focusing on your work, you’ll have been sidelined in the minds of your department as someone who isn’t going to go beyond grad school and will somehow be reabsorbed into the non-academic world with a nice diploma to hang on the wall of your home office.

I personally think this sucks. Yeah, I see some truth in it, but I think Dr. B, of all people should try to suggest ways that this can be fought. Madeleine offers this response, which I think is spot on:

if we moms continue to ACT AS THOUGH we are marginalized, if we expect such treatment, I daresay we will get it. If you expect to be not taken seriously, you run the risk of falling into that predetermined role by acting like someone who doesn’t deserve to be.

I never even considered my position as a mother as an issue. I thought of myself as a graduate student. I might have done things slightly differently than my single colleagues. For example, I always began working on big assignments early. I knew that daycare, illnesses, and other unforseen child issues might sidetrack me. But I didn’t discuss this way of working with anyone. I typically came into my little grad office, worked from 9-5 and went home. And yes, there was often more work to do when I got home, which does get old. I never felt marginalized. I was offered work as a mentor and in the writing center. I won awards. Perhaps this was because I wasn’t the only parent in the program or because the program isn’t highly ranked. But I always felt that the program was supportive of my work as a grad student.

I started grad school with a 2 year old. I had my second child after I completed my masters. I restarted work on the dissertation after both kids were in school. And yes it’s easier to handle, but I also have a full-time job, which I think makes it much harder. I have to work around the edges of the regular work day. With young children and reliable childcare, at least you can work during semi-normal hours and carve out some time for yourself and your family.

I’ve seen friends who waited until they finished grad school and got tenure before starting to think about kids. Some of them were unable to have kids. Some adopted. All are in their early 40s. I knew I couldn’t do that. So I had my kids when I wanted to and worked everything else around it.

I also think it’s okay to try and if you don’t make it, that’s okay too. Part of why I didn’t finish earlier was because I found it difficult to juggle everything and I had no support. And plenty of people without kids never finish. Now, in the push to the finish, I’ve let a lot of things go–real cooking, laundry, free time, reading books for fun. Depending on the kind of program you’re in, you and your family will have to be prepared for living in less than ideal conditions (possibly financially too).

The other, semi-related issue I was thinking of is the way we push people to work in the *best* program with the *best* people. Such a program might be good for someone who wants to go on to a prestigious position at a good school. And although I do think there are programs whose existence might be questioned, I also think there are perfectly decent jobs for people from *lesser* programs–community colleges, satellite schools, high schools. And some people want those jobs; they’re not just settling for them. Just as you can get a good B.A. education from a school without a reputation if you put your mind to it, I think you can get a good Ph.D. education from such a school too. And I know all the caveats about the academic hierarchy and how people look at the school and all that. And I think that sucks and we should resist it and let a person’s work speak for them instead of the degree. We all know that a Yale degree doesn’t necessarily mean that person has learned anythng. All it means is he gets to run our country.

Update: Spelling corrected! I told you I’m not right in the head. Thanks LLA!

Update 2: We have a large hole in the side of our house. Damn squirrels!

We have a real squirrel venturing periodically into the attic. I’m reminded, in fact, of the scene in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation when the squirrel jumps out of the tree. Someone yells “squirrel!” Panic ensues and destruction follows. Geeky Girl freaks out when she hears the squirrel. It is primarily underneath her room and so she believes the squirrel can get to her. She, like the people in Christmas Vacation, has a tendency to panic.

My metaphoric squirrel is all the stuff I have going on. Periodically, like the real squirrel, I hear it scratching around, trying to get out (or in?). And, I’m tempted to panic. But I haven’t yet. I just keep working as if there is no squirrel. But that’s not without its consequences. It’s true. I am a bit stressed and holding most of it in, coping with it the best I can. But I’ve now got this TMD thing that’s keeping me up at night and causing me headaches and dizziness. It comes and goes–like the squirrel. I’m planning to have this looked at today, but I’m a little fearful. There’s not much one can do for TMD and most people advise against extreme measures. So, we’ll see. It’s quite difficult to concentrate when one’s head is swimming and your jaw aches. It also sucks to not be able to eat quite right. I’m just hoping this will resolve sooner rather than later. Sigh.

I’m about a third of the way done with this chapter. I finished writing the first section today and now I begin (re)reading for the second. I was able to use about a page of the material I’d written before, including the introduction, which I thought worked pretty well. It might need to be tweaked once I’m finished with the whole thing, but it’s a useful guiding force for now. It’s really weird to write about how people learn to write while you’re writing. I find myself measuring methods against my own process. I was discussing some of my ideas with Mr. Geeky, who has a Ph.D. in cognitive science, and he kept saying, “but you don’t know what your brain is doing; that’s the point.” But I think I do and for some reason, I think that’s important. I think I understand how I process information and when I think it’s not processing well, I find ways to get myself back on track. In essence, that’s sort of what I was thinking we do with students sometimes. We figure if we know where they’ve gotten off track, what’s going on in their heads, then we can help them. But we can’t know because they can’t know exactly what’s going on and so we try other things as well. It’s not an efficient system. Whether it’s writing or math or science or history, my impression is that there’s no definitive method out there for teaching these subjects. It’s all an educated guess. There may be evidence that one method is better than another, but there’s still no method that stands out as perfect. Partly that’s due perhaps to our lack of understanding about how people at various levels actually learn and partly that’s due to differences among individuals. Also, I think at the college level, there are all kinds of emotional and motivational issues that have nothing to do with learning that sometimes get in the way. It seems as if, sometimes, we’re asked to be amateur psychologists running little experiments on our subjects. I know most of us, myself included, don’t think of teaching that way, but reflecting on my teaching methods and figuring out how to improve things often feels that way. Why, we often ask, when we use the same method from class to class, does one go well and one go poorly? Sometimes it has nothing to do with what we do and more to do with the makeup of the class–the personalities, the socioeconomic backgrounds, the motivations and desires–things out of our control. It is, as I often say, a complex and emerging system. How to manage that system and turn out students who have actually learned something is the million dollar question? I think I’m comfortable answering that question, but only tentatively because things change. Knowledge changes, the students change, the classes change and we have to adjust. Yes, it makes teaching harder. It makes thinking about teaching harder. But it seems worth it somehow.