Client UC.88M - Session 1

(Beep. Music fades in.)

I feel ya… Being locked in a library and locked in your home aren’t as different as some people might be inclined to think. I mean, you weren’t sitting out in the open areas with the sunlight pouring in from those giant windows like the brochures would always show. I can’t blame ya for that. I would also find it hard to focus there. So instead I would do what you did and retreat to the study carols in the back of the library, in the dark, cold recesses of an otherwise welcoming building.

And your makeshift office in the apartment is modelled after that cubicle in the library. But being face down in a book of theory, packed full of long and rambling prose that you don’t even care about anymore… Well, that’s a great equalizer. Everything looks the same from that angle. And you feel just as lonely in your tiny apartment as you did there. Maybe the lighting there was a bit better. But not socializing is still not socializing. The details aren’t overly relevant.

That’s the weirdest part about all this for you, at least: that the venue has changed but little else has. You went from studying and reading cafes and the library and maybe even the occasionally sunny spot on the grass when the weather was good to being cooped up in your small apartment, which is more dreary, on one hand. But the shelves now properly assembled do help. And so does opening the window shades. When you can. When the neighbor next door isn’t at his desk. Because his desk points to the window and you don’t know if he can see into your unit or not.

Rightfully so, this whole thing has felt like a nonstop comedy of errors.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

And by whole thing, I do mean your graduate school experience. What was once a dream of yours has just… Well, it’s been anything but. And sure, there’s an element at play that is just reality. Reality will always be quick to tell you that things are never idyllic. I’ve heard many travelers to Paris express much the same thing. But also… No. It’s kind of different. Your experience, your miseries, aren’t that simple. And they aren’t tied to this one fact.

To be honest, I once considered graduate school. Like getting a full PhD to become an academic. A teacher, mostly. A college professor type mentor figure. I had a very good one in college and a very bad one, and one that seemed to transcend that spectrum entirely and be more like a saint to me. All in all, it was several different ways to reach one conclusion, but that was before I considered any of the actual details. Like the research element. Or the administrative side. Or a lot of things.

I was lucky that I had this advisor who was able to tell me the harsh truth of it. Not everyone can be so frank. At the time, I was in a master’s program, a program designed to pad resumes, mostly for grad school. But even if people don’t go down that route, it’s a good school to be affiliated with. And then they get their tuition money, so everyone wins.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Not everyone had a good advisor though. Not everyone was lucky to have an advisor that honest and blunt with them. Not everyone has someone who will tell them the truth when it… when it doesn’t benefit them. Only you. I’m sure it would have been great for my master’s degree advisor if I went on to a PhD program. If I became an ideological copy of him and promulgated his research to the masses. Neither of us really doubted that I was capable of it. But the question remained: whether or not it was in my best interests. And we both seemed to know that it wasn’t.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

I mean, maybe there are some aspects of it that were glamorous. And after knowing… a hero of mine, I really did like the idea of getting into teaching. And maybe having someone like me show off would have a ripple effect. But there were other things that would have been outright poisonous to me. There is this sense that… Well, I need more freedom than what academia gives. I need to not have my ability to write to be limited by academic norms and calendars. And there are other ways to look out for people. To guide and take care of them. 

Sometimes things work out. And that mentor is actually still on my resume as a reference. Though maybe I should stop using him. Maybe I should move on, but he’s good at giving references, so there’s that. 

I landed on my feet after such a break from the plan. And that’s really the hard part. Well jumping is the hard part. I mean… It felt like I was trying to jump off a speeding train. The wind blowing in my hair and sucking the air out of my lungs. The ground racing past, making any sort of landing seem impossible but also dangerous. You feel trapped on that train, regardless of the reasons that you need to get off. It’s just so hard to build the momentum necessary to push past those currents. To initiate. To jump.

And that’s not an exaggeration is it? It’s not a literal train, but it doesn’t need to be. This is still strong and powerful. And you are not always that way. Especially now.

(Music fades out and new music fades in)

Because what will you tell your family? And your friends: both those pursuing their own PhDs and those who are not? I mean, it seems like a no-brainer to get an advanced degree, at least once you’ve started the program. I mean, won’t they say that you’ve already put so much work in, so why wouldn’t you finish it? Why not get the benefits? Why discard all the work you’ve already put in? Just keep pushing forward. Sunk cost fallacy and all that.

On paper it looks like you’ll be done in three years. Because that’s when the funding ends, but that’s not usually when people finish. Usually the money ends long before the degree arrives. And then what are you going to do? 

There are answers to that question, but why are we taking it that far?

In some ways, I do think you have reasons to be grateful to be cooped up in your home where you don’t have to answer to anyone. No one is there to see the concern and fear written on your face, and so there is no one to ask you what is wrong. And then you don’t have to come up with something on the fly, to hide your real plight. 

You feel bad for even calling it a plight, right? That was your word, not mine. And it still didn’t sound right in my own mouth.

But shame is an affliction… Not guilt, mind you. Guilt is the impulse by which we are pushed to make things right. Shame is the external compulsion to adhere to someone else’s notions of “right.” One is more objective. Or at least more personal. It is something that you can claim ownership of. It is something that can and should guide you. 

And I’m not talking about shame. Not at all. It can be hard to see the difference between the two of them. They have this nasty tendency of dancing together. But in your case, they’ve done a bit of a break away, as it’s called in ballroom dancing. 

You should probably do something about this before they come together again. Just saying.

(Beep. Music fades out)

The Oracle of Dusk is a production of Miscellany Media Studios with music licensed from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. It was written, edited, produced, and performed by MJ Bailey. And if you like the show, tell friends about it or the quasi-friends that are still on your social media feeds because social norms evolved before words did, am I right?