Do y’all remember baby boy who stood up in front of the congregation to let the people know he was “tired of this church”?
I watch this video every few months to remind myself that it is okay to be honest with myself and everyone else — I’m tired of this dissertation. Over it. In past blog posts, I have shared my fatigue from running myself ragged in the name of wellness, but I have spoken very little about the actual dissertation process. That has been intentional. To be honest, the people-pleasing, introverted perfectionist in me has been censoring myself/my narrative about this process. I feel more hopeful when I write about my struggles from a place of having overcome them. Everyone loves a good success story. At the same time, when I witness someone’s success, there is a part of me that wonders about the process. What did it cost? What was it like, forreal forreal?
If I am being forreal forreal, I feel depleted.
I am completing this doctorate in Ann Arbor, MI. Ain’t nothing going on here but the rent. I see Black people around, but don’t really see Black folks. At least not like I do when I go back home to Newark, Philly, or the Bronx. Starting this semester after visiting Ghana for two months has only intensified my culture shock and intolerance for another Michigan winter. It’s perpetually too cold for this (whatever this is), and there’s no light at the end of the tunnel because the sun refuses to shine. Meanwhile, every week I go through Uber Eats and Doordash, hoping that I’ll find a Jamaican restaurant to kick this oxtail craving I’ve been battling (because it is a fight) for the past two months. And every week I act surprised to find the same restaurant options and promotions for Wingstop (shout out to Rick Ross).
Despite me “living” in the Ann Arbor area for 3 years, due to Covid, I haven’t actually lived here. For me, dealing with the aftermath of Covid looks like having to remind myself that I can go out and be social again. I’m beginning to find my go-to spots for eating, shopping, aesthetic maintenance, and living — which is comforting — but my transition has been anything but transient. It probably doesn’t help that I have moved 3 times in 4.5 years while conducting most of my research outside of Michigan.
Speaking of research, that is what really has me out here tired. For me, the process of getting to, and through, the actual writing of my dissertation has felt like trying to complete a 1,000-piece puzzle, except there is no picture to show what I am trying to create; there are missing pieces, and just when i started getting somewhere, someone steps on the pieces, forcing me to start over. Experiencing something as confusing as it is daunting requires a level of mental gymnastics that is exhausting. Sometimes I feel like I live more in my head than I do in Ann Arbor. Currently, I’m not sure which residence I prefer, which, based on what I just shared about Ann Arbor, tells you everything you need to know about where I am at mentally.
I deeply care about Black girls and Black women healing, being free, and living their best lives. While this is at the center of my research, I have learned that there is a difference between my research and my articulation of it in the form of an article, dissertation proposal, dissertation, or my “favorite” genre: grant writing. Imagine you have a really dope idea for a project that you want to share with a friend, and instead of being met with excitement you’re asked the following:
- What is the problem space you are intervening on? Can you say this in 300 words? In fact, tell me about your whole project in 300 words.
- Who is participating in your project? Why did you choose them? Why not choose someone else?
- In order to arrive at your dope idea, whose work have you been engaging with? What have you learned about this work? How does this work inform how you think about your work? What gaps exist in the current field that justify the need for your work?
- Without actually doing the project, who is the work going to impact, and how will it impact them?
Does that project still sound as exciting as it did when you were envisioning it? If you said no, you are in good company. For some folks reading this, these are the basics of research and writing. I don’t deny that some of these questions (and there are many more not listed here) are useful and important considerations, but for someone like me who loves doing the work way more than I like talking about it/convincing others about its obvious relevance (to me), this process is a killjoy.
The barrier to entry feels counterintuitive. It is hard to reach the next milestone or secure the bag to fund your work when you haven’t done the work yet and are still in the process of creating the project. Yet, you need to speak with a level of decisiveness and clarity about the project, which everyone involved in reading your work knows is b.s because this document is merely speculative. And now that you are spending so much time trying to convince others about something you haven’t done yet, you haven’t had the chance to actually work on said project. You finally make it through the ringer and then have to muster up the energy to do the work you said you were going to do, but thanks to time and growth, you’ve actually figured out you are trying to do something else. If you are me, you are trying to figure all of this out based on one Qualitative Methods course you took online when the world was ending. You finesse. You figure it out. You do what you said you would and then it is time to write about it, so you chase more grants to have the spaciousness to write and not have to work as much (because I always need to keep a job based on how I’m living). That is how I arrived where I am now — tired of this dissertation.
Also, this has nothing to do with writing my dissertation, but I miss my friends. I miss living on the East Coast where my people are a train ride away. As toxic as it is, I miss being in other people’s business, trying to fix their problems for them. I miss seeing Black children. I miss a good brunch party, because sometimes I need to remind myself that I still got it. There’s so much that I miss and have been missing out on — baby showers, weddings, birthday parties, etc.
In the last blog, I was deep in gratitude, so this post may feel like a detour from the journey. This is the part of the dissertation process (and other ambitious pursuits) many of us experience in varying degrees and ways but don’t show because it is uncomfortable. I want all of us to witness the struggle I am experiencing now, so when I come out on the other side, we will know what and why we are celebrating. I will be fine. Thoughts, prayers, calls, gifts, etc. are always welcome, but I want to be clear that this is not me sending an SOS. This is what it looks like to process the process, acknowledging my thoughts and feelings honestly, so I can meet myself with the grace and tenderness I deserve.
If you are having a hard time navigating your own journey, whatever that looks like, let’s talk. Trust me, you’re in good company.
With gratitude (still),
Mimi