Rejection

It's been busy the past few weeks. 

As part of my role in the company I work for is Director of a management institute.  Over the past year we've branched out quite a bit and begun working with external groups, including academics, on various projects (some emperical research).  Last week we hosted our inaugural symposium, with guests from all over the US (and a couple of speakers even joining us via videoconference from Europe). 

A few of the speakers were professors from some very good schools.  They're all folks whose work I've read and who I've forged a relationship with, but it was really good to have them out as our guests to present some of their research.  I was able to spend some time discussing research ideas and we've outlined a few research paths that we're going to begin working on in the coming weeks.

All in all, very exciting.  It feels really good to build these relationships with such great academic minds, and it's a great opportunity to be able to work with such incredible people.

At dinner one evening, one of the professors asked me what draws me to academia.  I thought that was an intriguing question and I answered as truthfully as I could.  I told him that the thought of forming an idea, exploring and proving the concepts, and then disseminating that idea as something that was birthed, at least in part, in my mind, was really appealing to me.  He accepted that.

He had some interesting comments for me too, though.  The most successful academics, he said, are those who can find a place in themselves where they receive energy from the endless rejection that comes with research and publishing.  Many researchers, he indicated, are beaten down by the rejection (he admitted that at times it's difficult not to be) and their productivity slows because of it.  But finding a way to channel that feedback (even though it seems overwhelmingly harsh) into fuel for your work is a key ingredient to a prolific research career. 

That's going to be difficult for me, I think.  It's hard for me to hear how stupid my ideas are; I'm finding myself working to psych myself up for it (I know; that's really weird).  One of the other researchers at dinner made a comment that I think will help.  She said that she looks at the review and rejection process as an opportunity to better her work.  She tries to read past the harsh language in each letter and focus on pulling out the nuggets pointing her toward a more refined work product.  The first professor concurred.  He's an editor of a prestigious journal and he said that his job as an editor is to try to get papers published; that means he focuses on ensuring the author has a clear perspective as to the strengths of the article, and how those can be expounded on.  I think if I get some of that with every rejection letter, I can deal with the rejection portion.

Family Balance

The PhD process, I hear, is stressful no matter who you are.  Making the life change required in order to pursue this particular dream is particularly challenging as a husband and parent (with this whole life that we've built, the trappings of which we're going to have to pare away in order to do this).  I'm going to have to walk away from a great career, move away from a great place with wonderful friends and a great church, and leave our lovely house--and move to someplace far away, and life on substantially less money in a home (or perhaps apartment) not nearly as beautiful as this one, and meet all new friends in some strange place. 

I'm stressing myself out just writing about it. 

I'd be lying if I said it's not going to be a sacrifice; it is.  As I've "grown up" and we've had children, the natural order of life has snuck up on us and, without realizing it, we've put down some pretty deep roots.  Even my children are a little worried about leaving their school and their friends.

But then, nothing comes easy, and most things worth doing cost something.  We've talked a lot about it, and we are committed to the change.

I've been a little worried about the family/life balance once in the program, though.  A friend put me in touch with two married-with-children PhD ABD's; I chatted with each of them this week.  It was nice to pick someone's brain a bit about trying to maintain a balanced life while pursuing the PhD. 


Neither of them painted the process out to be a walk in the park; they both impressed upon me the heavy time commitment that is the PhD process.  But they also both indicated that they have a fulfilled family life; it's not the same as it used to be, they both admit, but still healthy and fulfilling.  And their children and spouses understand and are supportive.


All in all, I think that, in a strange way, the conversations were both reassuring.  It helps to know married parents who are doing this successfully--to talk to them, and know that they're not superhuman or something.  As strange as it sounds, a real conversation with a real person like me, makes me feel a little more certain; if they can do it, so can I. 

Sometimes I feel like I'm obsessing over the smallest details, but I have this desperate need to know everything there is to know about what I'm getting into.  Nothing wrong with that, is there?

I doubt I'm all that different from most others who've passed this way.