I began my first semester in the Cultural Studies doctoral program at George Mason University in August. The decision to attain a terminal degree was an established and long-held forgone conclusion complicated by a number of factors – both legitimate and illegitimate. Ambivalence, after a certain point, is depleting. At first, it is understood as a responsible thinking-through of your current circumstances and the contemporary environment. Then, it is understood as a sign that you do not truly want to get a terminal degree. For me, I was always told that anything short of a tunnel-vision desire to get one means that you should not try. However, in both cases – the “responsible” ambivalence and the “second guessing” ambivalence – neither dispositions are to be trusted. My pre-emptive desires, my thoughts, resentments, etc. – they are always deserving of a skepticism and mistrust that prohibits self-certainty. I can never claim with confidence, even subjectively. When someone asks if I want to get my PhD, I can only respond by saying, “I think so.”
On the one hand, I know I have a love and appreciation of scholarly work – academia, problematizing everything, complicating everything. On the other hand, those activities don’t require a structured environment (i.e. committing to 4-5 years of school). Further, the academic job market is nothing more than a cautionary tale to the point that any expectation that you can get a job (beyond an adjunct position) after getting your PhD is naive at best, delusional at worst. On this point, the power of anti-education/learning sentiment that is so prevalent does a lot of work. It is truly disruptive and it certainly has the effect of making one feel ashamed of wanting to learn with the goal of being more civically, historically, and culturally informed. Any desire to learn rather than be trained is stigmatized because in the former there is no clear or sure way to exploit it financially. It’s one of the most depressing dimensions of our current environment – this distaste and dismissal of education — specifically in the liberal arts. Our pursuits and passions have been so extremely disfigured and re-oriented towards alienating metrics that we become hostile towards them. As such, we become hostile towards ourselves. I say this as someone who does feel hostile towards themself – as someone who often feels silly, disgracefully privileged, selfish, and childish for deciding to apply and attend. I have, for some reason still unbeknownst in many aspects, decided to remove myself/alter from my domestic space and attempt this difficult goal. A goal that I have to constantly remind myself of the reasons why.
Ideally, for my daughter, this decision will reflect something positive, something beneficial that she can take away. Something akin to commitment and belief; something about pursuing goals despite opposition or inconvenience. I hope. Because right now, it feels as though I’m simply not home. And that’s all. I’m not home.
In those more inspiring or reassuring moments – I remind myself of how fortunate I am to have been accepted into a program and offered a fellowship. I think about how scholars, academics, and thinkers have inspired me. I think about the role education has played in resistance and revolution, in developing an understanding of one’s self, identity, and society towards empathy and solidarity.
I am saddened by the fact that this decision is so complicated, that it creates this uneasy feeling. I hate encountering the stereotypes in class. I hate being reminded of the parodies. I hate when I feel like the embodiment of the parody. I hate feeling so vulnerable to sentiments I know are wrong.
Who is ever sure of themselves?
Like anything else – a desire for something is disrupted by the potential of both failure and success, and underscored by the sacrifices required to attain it. Desires that remain singular in focus are the blessing of youth.
fragile ambition 