Checklists & Health Fits

I am exceptionally good at checklists. I think I take them as a personal challenge. Case in point: In my first semester of my PhD program I...

- passed the Hebrew exam
- passed the French exam
- got Aramaic waived
- had my first TA job (well, first as a PhD student)
- submitted the necessary papers for research readiness review

In other words, on the outside at least, I look like I have my act together. Sure there have been failures and setbacks, but overall, I have made great progress on the protocols checklist. But I can check things off a checklist all day. The actual feeling like I know what is going on, like I am half as smart as the other students, like I actually belong in a PhD program--that's a whole other story.  Things are improving. I am actually pretty proud of my final papers. They aren't exactly earth-shattering, but I think I was able to find a new angle for each topic. Hopefully my professors will agree.

And just like that, I am a quarter of the way through coursework (God willing!) The semester was tough. Far tougher than anything I have ever done. Far tougher than moving to Jerusalem for nine months. But I survived. I may not be thriving yet, but I am surviving. And I am learning a lot about myself along the way. I am learning it is okay to do things my own way, at my own pace. For the first time in my life, I had to document my health problems with my school, and that was hard. I am officially "differently abled." It's not really an issue of needing help--I realized long ago that asking for help is part of my life. But it is different when I am asking a friend to walk me home because I am lightheaded than having official notification sent to my professors to let them know that my health impacts my classroom performance. It never used to, not really. I don't know if it is the change in environment, the added stress, or just adjusting, but my health went from being an occasional nuisance to being an almost daily issue. And I have had to make changes in my lifestyle as a result. I have never viewed my health as a weakness--it is what it is, it is part of my life--but I also have never let it affect how I live my life. I have never had to plan things according to what my body could handle, not really. And suddenly, I am realizing that it has to be a factor. Not that I am going to let it ruin my dreams, but it may mean a different time frame. And that's okay.

I went on a date a while back (that's as weird for me to say as it probably is for those of you who know me to read). The guy kept asking me what I like to do with my free time. For the life of me, I couldn't get him to understand that as a PhD student, I don't have any free time. Finally I told him I like to read. He asked me what I like to read, for fun. He was a bit shocked when I told him biblical studies books, much like what I read for class. I looked at him and said, "You gotta understand, this is what I am passionate about. This is what I do for fun. You don't end up in a PhD program by having hobbies." Needless to say, there was no second date. But it's the truth. As hard as it is, as time-consuming and stressful as it is, I wouldn't have it any other way. I am doing this because this is what I love.

Today, I Like Lists

At this point in the semester, my ability to form coherent narratives is reserved for papers. Thus, I present to you a random list of random thoughts about life in and lessons from a PhD program on the West Coast.

- Taize on Wednesday evenings is the highlight of my week. (I was greatly disappointed this morning when I realized that today was Tuesday and not Wednesday...)
- Professors should not be allowed to assign homework after Thanksgiving if they expect us to also write 20 page papers.
- People who ask for my advice, ignore it and then proceed to whine to me because I was right annoy me.
- Pumpkin cheesecake is amazing.
- For the first time in my life, I had to document my health problems with my school. I am now a "differently abled student" and I am okay with that.
- Sleep has been relegated to an activity that I get to do in my free time. If only I had free time...
- Constant self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy are central to the process.
- MDivs who whine about having to write 10 page papers annoy me.
- Sometimes the best way to be a good friend is to not be a good friend.
- My health has to come first.
- I really like smoothies. And my Keurig.
- Sometimes I really am a horrible person. But it's okay because most of the time I am busying mothering the first year MDivs, so they forgive me.
- The best way to deal with never-ending to-do lists is to first not actually make the list and second to focus on getting through one thing at a time.
- It's okay if I only take 3 classes a semester.
- Having health problems is not a weakness. Neither is asking for help.
- I have some amazingly supportive classmates and friends.

And now, back to the never-ending world of paper-writing...

Self-Doubts

So it’s been like six weeks. Reading week just ended, so I am halfway through my first semester. I haven’t updated like I intended, in part because I have been so busy but also because there hasn’t been much to say. I am completely overwhelmed and spend more time doubting my abilities than feeling sure of myself and what I am doing here. Don’t get me wrong, there are moments when I feel like this is exactly where I am supposed to be and that this is exactly where I am supposed to do. Those moments, unfortunately, tend to happen outside the classroom. It is when I am TA-ing and when the first year MDiv students are coming to me for help and advice that I feel confident.  So in a way, those experiences affirm my own sense of call, which is more to teaching than to scholarship, but in order to get to there, I first have to prove that I can do the scholarship.

So I haven’t posted anything because I wanted to have something to say other than I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t want to be that person who is self-deprecating in order to have others re-assure her. That’s not what I am looking for. Really, it is just a statement of reality – I am stressed out and often feel like I am not as smart as the other PhD students. I also realize that this is part of the process. I spoke to my advisor last week and confessed my lost-ness, especially in one particular class, and rather than trying to tell me not to feel overwhelmed and under-qualified, he acknowledged that my feelings were valid and good – not because he doubts my ability to complete the program, but because the purpose of PhD studies is to stretch, grow and teach us. If I feel confident and certain, then something is wrong. Of course, knowing that this is what we all go through and that it is what we are supposed to experience doesn’t make it any more enjoyable. It doesn’t keep me from sobbing to my parents for over an hour because I don’t understand my class or feeling completed frustrated with myself because I didn't do something as well as I thought I should have.

Thankfully, though, I have a good support system, both here and at home. I think that is what keeps me from packing up and going home, knowing that I am not alone in this. I have people who believe in me when I don't believe in myself, and I have people who are willing to be completely lost and overwhelmed with me.

What was it my friend Seth used to tell me all the time? "Take a deep breath, say a quick prayer and smile."

Life Lessons, On Being Me

Four weeks living in Berkeley and two weeks of classes and I'm still standing. Okay, actually I am sitting on my bed, but same difference. Part of me is still in shock that I am in a PhD program. Part of me feels like it is the most natural thing in the world. Part of me is still wondering why the hell I thought moving to the Bay Area would be such a great idea. Couldn't I have gotten a PhD elsewhere??

But here I am, nevertheless.

I have a lot to learn, not just about the Bible but about life in general and life on the West Coast in particular. One of my first lessons, before classes even started, was that around here, you have to "come out" as straight. Maybe it's because I am from the Midwest, maybe it's because I am straight, but it's not something I ever thought about before. Back home, I can hang out with a female without anyone assuming we are anything more than friends. Out here, I have been asked numerous times if my (female) friend and I are partners. It is interesting. I guess it is a reflection of the assumptions we make about people's sexual orientation, as if it matters--or as if it is even our business.

Despite all of the horror stories and stereotypes about the cut-throat world of PhD studies, the PhD students are fairly nice and supportive of each other. There are, of course, exceptions to that; I have experienced some cattiness and hostility after getting a TA job so early in the program. But I'm not going to let it get to me. Rather, I find it amusing that someone further along in the program seems to feel threatened by me or something. I admit, luck factored into me getting the job; I wouldn't have gotten it if I wasn't his advisee. But the bottom line is that my advisor changed his mind about having a TA because he wanted me to be his TA. I'm not going to apologize for that. And most of the other students are happy for me, and when they get the TA job next time instead of me, I will be happy for them too. Because we are all in this together and we all need the same things. Just because one person succeeds doesn't mean someone else won't.

All in all, life is good. There is drama living in the dorms, and at times I feel very old, but in a good way. After eight years of higher education and numerous health issues, I have learned both the art of self-care and the need for self-differentiation (looks like Church Leadership paid off after all!). I don't have the time or energy to get caught up in other people's drama, nor do I really care if that makes them think I am bitch or what have you. I am who I am, no apologies. There are enough people who can appreciate me for me; I don't need to waste my time on people who are only going to bring me down. Okay, that totally sounds bitchy, but whatever. At the end of the day, I'm gonna be me. I'm gonna be true to who I am. And really, what more can I do?

At church this morning, during the children's time, Pastor Mark talked about being the best me that I can be, rather than trying to be better than someone else. It's so true. I can only be me. And all I can do is try to be a better me today than I was yesterday.

Overly Oriented, Exhausted from Excitement

I keep starting a new post, only to delete or abandon it. I can't seem to find the words to capture the whirlwind of craziness, excitement and exhaustion that I have experienced over the past two weeks since moving into my dorm here at the GTU. So I guess I am going to have to forget all those English classes and my incessant need to make everything sound nice and pretty and just write.

It's a cliche, but it's been an emotional roller coaster. My life in Berkeley began with the placement exams, which were brutal. I passed the Hebrew exam, which was a huge relief, but I did not pass Greek, which means I have to take the advanced Greek class in the spring. I had one day off (which my mom interrupted by waking me up at a quarter to 7am, thinking we were 3 hours ahead) and then orientation started. Four long, overwhelming days. By the end of it, I was exhausted and completely drained. So much information, so many new people. And, while the website says the PhD can be completed in 4 years, we were told on the first day that the average is 7 years--and then I was told by biblical studies people that it takes us even longer because we have so many more requirements. All of it resulted in me breaking down in tears at the "buddy" luncheon. That was rather embarrassing, but those who witnessed it were really supportive. Apparently it is just part of the PhD process. [And, as a side note, after talking to my advisor and other students in the program, I think I can be done in 4-5 years.]

So the end of orientation was rough, but the very next day is when I found out I passed my Hebrew exam, right before I had my meeting with my advisor. I was so excited and enthusiastic that he decided to take a TA for his intro class after all, so I begin that tomorrow. I never thought I would be TAing right away, but it is a great opportunity and I am lucky to have received it. Talking with other PhD students, there doesn't seem to be enough positions to go around. Just goes to show it is as much (if not more) about luck and enthusiasm as it is about talent and knowledge.

I won't go into all the boring details of my life. I have met a lot of great people, and a lot of challenging people. Living in PSR housing, I have gotten to know many of the new MDiv students, and it's been fun helping them navigate through orientation and planning their first semesters. One of the biblical studies PhD students had a party last night, so I had a chance to meet and talk with a lot of the other biblical studies students (along with a few others), although I was the only first year student who went.

As much as I didn't want to move to California, I know this is the right place and the right program for me. It's already starting to feel like home in some ways. I have found some supportive friends, both inside and outside the biblical studies program. And I have a new church home, which is always nice.

There is much more I could say, but I will save it for another time.

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish...

Last week, when I was visiting my godmother, we were talking about her granddaughter, who is both beautiful and brilliant.  Remembering that there had been talk at one point about her skipping a grade, I inquired if this ever happened.  “No,” was the answer, “her mom would rather her be a big fish in a small pond than a small fish in a big pond.” 

This familiar saying is a pretty good description of my own life.  The school district which I attended from the first day of kindergarten through high school graduation was small, semi-rural and better known for its drug use than its academics.  I was one of four valedictorians and had a flawless GPA.  I was also a cocky, know-it-all.  But despite my arrogant exterior, I knew that my high school academic success amounted to very little in comparison to most high schools.  The thought of college terrified me because it would mean breaking out of my little world in which I was queen nerd and facing the competition that a good academic program entailed.  And college was a big adjustment.  I remember calling home and telling my parents that I was the stupidest kid in the honors dorm.  Not only were my professors using words I had never even heard of but so were my newly made friends, not only in classes but also in late night conversations.  But despite my initial bewilderment and feelings of self-doubt, I quickly found my footing.  Again, I flourished.

After college graduation, it was onto seminary.  For some reason, I had no doubts in my ability to succeed.  Perhaps it was because I felt assured of my calling.  Perhaps it was because my undergraduate professors spent so much time telling me that I was destined for PhD studies.  Whatever the reason, I knew I could do it.  And I did.

And then, I decided to do something as un-Christina as I possibly could:  I decided to pack up and study abroad in Israel for an entire school year, at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, one of the top universities in the world.  I was terrified, terrified of moving so far away, terrified of surviving in such a well-known and well-respected program.  But again, despite some language barriers and cultural differences, I came out on top.

[I do not mean to suggest that I have not been challenged in the past eight years.  My professors and classmates have stretched me and how I think about the Bible.  There have been other students who not only pushed back against my interpretations but have also offered their own that I would never have considered—and sometimes could not entirely follow or understand. But never has a professor really given me any reason to think I was anything less than extraordinary.]

And now, here I am, just days away from starting a PhD program.  I am incredibly excited.  This is my dream.  But at the same time, I am completely terrified.  I have, in many ways, always been the big fish in a little pond, and I know I am about to became a little fish in a big pond.  Perhaps the past eight years should convince me otherwise.  But I have heard the horror stories, the tales of professors who love nothing more than to chew graduate students up and spit them out, the recounts of dissertations being shredded and students told to start all over.  And even if those are the worst case scenarios, the fact remains that all the other PhD students have the same credentials as me.  We were all the best, which means we cannot all still be the best.  Add to all my insincerities the fact that I have to move clear across the country to a state that I really had no interest in inhabiting, into an area that is probably far more liberal than I can imagine.  Nothing about this is going to be easy.

But I guess that is why it is called a dream.  What is it I wrote on my bedroom wall last fall?  “The only dreams worth pursuing are the ones for which you must fight.” 

Bring it on!