Being in Academia cuts both ways. On the one hand, you could imagine doing nothing else. Driven by passion, you strive each day every day to further knowledge, to feed that hunger for knowing more, for discovery and surprise, and you go to sleep at night knowing that you are 'almost there'. For those at the pinnacle of their career, thousands and thousands (some even millions) of dollars get thrown at them to help them reach their goal; universities grant honorary doctorates; institutions, fellowships; and they get to jet-set around the world giving guest lectures and setting up new 'schools of thought'. Etched on walls, busts, awards, and most of all minds, their names and all that they represent will be set in perpetuity.
And the deal is not so shabby for those who are not such 'stars'. They can experience all the same things on a smaller scale. They reap the benefits of setting their own hours doing what they love best. They can choose how high up they go, whether to continue to prioritise teaching or to climb the ladder. For scientists, they can collaborate with industry and see the idea through to its functional manifestation. The job is flexible, allowing you to choose any two of three areas to focus on at any point in time. Oh, and did I mention that academics have a job satisfaction rate of about 80%? highest in any area according to one survey.
But with all things, there is another side. And life hardly allows such rosy panes to remain unsmashed. Few make it to such a pinnacle; many end up in podunct jobs they cannot write themselves out of. Where the broken glass is, are many disillusioned idealists and disheartened dreamers. Funding is difficult to come by and you soon learn that asking for money requires a certain amount of pretense and absolutely no shame. Until you have worked long and hard enough to have established yourself, you go through an identity crisis each time you fill out a funding application; you are constantly proving your worth.
At the first 'professionalisation' seminar I attended in fourth year undergrad, my classmates and I were told: 'bottom line: you have to love it. Because it is only in loving it will you be able to make it through those long years of research, solitude, frustration, and work that sometimes won't amount to anything'. I took it to heart and silently reassured myself that I was therefore okay because I did 'love it'. But 'loving it' also cuts quite deep.
To put it plainly, I am tired. And in saying all this I am in no way discounting the hard work that other people in different areas put in. I do not agree, however, that all fields of occupation are the same; even slight nuances make huge differences.
I think the thing about academia is that it really is an area that is driven by passion: the thirst for knowledge sustains it. It is replete with unmet desires left, right, and centre: why this? what if this? I wonder whether - ? could it be? and 'loving it' becomes so personal.
And because you 'love it', it never really leaves you. My friend asked me last night: 'do you think you're a workaholic?' I denied it, being a person who is strict on her working hours and makes sure she gets enough sleep in order to go full force the next day. But leaving my supervision today, I really wonder. It feels like I have been going non-stop ever since I got back from Christmas. Each day consists of hours of mental gymnastics, crafting and re-crafting and trying to pull together disparate ideas. A friend who is going his PhD in Engineering commented on the weekend that it must be difficult for artists to sustain hours of concerted mental activity when he and other scientists are allowed to spend a decent percentage of their time carrying out procedures and performing more material tasks. My other friend, who is a philosopher, told me that she has it worse than I do: at least part of my work is historical, her's is all in her head (less reading, even more thinking).
I wanted to be finished this draft chapter last week. Instead, it spilled over and the number of things that I need to do just keeps on growing. One thing leads to another and some days I just want to stop. But because I love it, I am constantly striving for more, even when my brain hurts so much from reading and thinking. Looking at mailing lists, calls for papers, conferences, workshops, and funding yesterday overwhelmed me. There is so much to think about - post-docs, jobs, free-lance writing, publishing. All these things I have not even touched.
My dad is coming in a week. I'm excited and at the same time so conflicted. Up until now I have held off from travelling. Everyone else has taken time off to explore and learn experientially. So why do I feel so guilty? Why am I so anxious about my work? I am tired and burnt out and feel like I need this; I just now need to stop looking at everyone else who will be working at that time. It's a scary feeling, not to be keen.
Yesterday was Palm Sunday, which kicks off a week of penitence and prayer. I don't want this week to pass by without deep thought. I am in need of a saviour; that I know for certain. So as Easter Friday comes closer and closer, I want to lay more and more at the cross. I have so much to give up. I want to lay even this 'passion' at the cross.
1 comment:
AUTHOR: Dez
DATE: 04/04/2007 01:45:10 AM
Academia is so very like a hydra. You think you've answered one question, but in the process have posed 3 others. Such is the nature of the beast. And to me, so much of the challenge lies in being able to see this as a blessing. Knowing that the work will never be done no matter what you do, and therefore allowing yourself that much needed time off. At the same time, enjoying the really challenging, thought-provoking nature of what you've chosen to pursue.
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