phd « Ed's Slipper

Last week, somewhere around 4,000 students graduated from Warwick University. At the same time, I know a few people who are moving on from their current place of work to a different place of work when the new academic year starts. It so happens that I belong to both groups of people. After 4 years in a PhD programme, and 8 years at Warwick university, this period of my life is finally over, marked in pomp and circumstance in a ceremony where I got to wear a silly hat. (James, if you’re reading this, it’s a bonnet, not a beret)

graduation

It could feel like the end of an era. 8 years are, after all, a long time. But that feeling – like a new chapter was about to begin – happened last year, when I plunged into the real world and became a teacher. That’s when I was worried and upset about closing a chapter of my life – because that felt like losing part of my identity. If you’re at this stage, I can only recommend reading these three previous blog posts (given in chronological order):

A New Chapter – to state clearly that this is not the end of an era, not the loss of your identity, and that the change in the seasons of life is simply natural.
A life lost for a life gained – to nuance the bold statements of the previous post and point out the continuity in the traits of your identity.
Transitions – to round it all off and look firmly towards the future, towards the new chapter.

After three posts on the topic, you may wonder why I bother writing yet another one, or what more can be said about changes, but bear with me.

There is a stark difference between this graduation and what I felt – the fear of the unknown, of losing my identity etc. – when I actually moved. Beyond the hindsight that everything turned out for the best, I also realise something I hadn’t at that stage.

I have momentum.

That is to say, I am not stopping everything and starting something wholly different. I have practices, ways of living and ways of dealing with situations that I am inheriting from my degree. More importantly, I have a direction. I have a fundamental feeling for where I’m going; that was nurtured in my years at Warwick and beyond.

This momentum is not decreasing, on the contrary. Even though I am changing schools come September, I am keeping the same direction. Yes, there may be obstacles that will slow down the implementation of this (getting to know the new staff, etc.) but they are not changing the direction in which I wish to go, nor my determination towards it.

In addition to momentum, I have rooting.

I am keeping in touch with people at Warwick. In doing so, I realise that some of the things that came naturally at Warwick were actually deliberate, if subconscious acts, that I can keep on doing wherever I go. This rooting fuels my momentum.

Sadly, I can’t keep in touch with everyone I have met, and I am missing a fair amount of people, including most of my students. But the memories I have of these people also remind me of both successes and failures, and keep me looking forward (cue song from Oz)

With both momentum and rooting, this graduation ceremony is neither the closing of a book, nor the opening of a new one. It is simply a gateway I went through: with speed that is essential to keep on going afterwards, with footprints left behind and with dust on my feet.

And so to all of you who graduate or are changing jobs or situations: it is also simply a gateway.

For about as long as I can remember, I’ve been a student. High school, then undergraduate, and so on and so forth until the PhD. There hasn’t been much of a respite, either: rather than a clean cut-off between my Masters and my PhD; or between my PhD and the start of my teaching life, there was an overlap where I was juggling both at once.

And now it is over. I passed the final piece of examination last Thursday – and now, beyond the graduation ceremony and (probably) some paperwork, it is finished. And I find it oddly weird – to not consider myself as a student any longer.

transitions

I won’t say I miss it. The whole research process is not one I have found particularly enjoyable. By the fourth year of the PhD, I couldn’t wait for it all to be over. But at the same time, it was familiar: not necessarily comfortable, but at least safe and predictable. And so, the closer I got to the Viva (examination) date, the less I was looking forward to it – not out of fear of failing, I knew my stuff; but because I knew about being a PhD student.

Procrastination, not of the task, but of the reward that marks the end of the task. We all do that sometimes: finishing up an essay when you’ve done all the reading, getting a house when you’ve already worked to be able to afford it, etc.

Israel in exile reacted in much the same way – they delayed getting their inheritance. Never mind that they had traveled in the wilderness for many years, and toiled hard towards that inheritance. Never mind that this was a land of plenty, ripe for the taking. No, Israel was procrastinating not the task – that was done – but the reward itself.

I never fully got why. But here’s what I now think: wandering tribes in exile, that’s an identity. That gives us something to moan about (maybe the Hebrews were somewhat British) And it’s one we’re used to. This new freedom and land-ownership, that’s good, yes, but we’re not used to that. So, yeah, we want it, but we’ll only get around to it a bit later.

Silly, eh?

Shift forward to the New Covenant. We know our identities as sinners. We sometimes hide from it, we sure don’t like it. But we’re not always ready to go and claim our inheritance – that of repentance and redemption. We’re slow, not necessarily because we don’t realise that we can claim it, but because we’re not told enough to stop delaying it.

So stop delaying it. And claim what is yours: new life.

Ed's Slipper

About predestination and smaller matters

phd

A graduation

Transitions