Goodbye, Grad School!

By Jack Sturm

Jack Sturm

Throughout my entire life, I always wanted to be a teacher. Only knowing what I had been exposed to, I transitioned from wanting to be an elementary school teacher to a junior high teacher and then, finally, to a high school teacher. When I started at North Central College, I decided to pursue secondary education. I picked math as my subject of interest because I was always good at math and it was just about as interesting as anything else. When I got into my math classes at North Central, though, my appreciation for math was deepened due to the faculty who were so passionate about the subject material and made the courses interesting and engaging. After my first year, I decided to drop my secondary education minor because I realized that I wanted to be a college professor.

So, my senior year of college, I applied to a ridiculous number of graduate schools and ended up choosing to attend the University of Tennessee. When I look back at my graduate school experience, I knew what I was doing for the first few years. I knew how to take courses, do homework, and study for and take exams. The work was hard but doable, and even though I wasn’t always successful (for example, I failed my analysis preliminary exam the first time around), I knew that I could make it through. I persevered, worked hard, and got through it. Then came the research stage which felt totally different. Suddenly, I was faced with answering (and asking?!?) questions that didn't have clear answers. I thought I knew what “math research” was, but it turns out that I really had no idea what it entailed or how to do it successfully.

When I started working with my advisor, we started by doing small projects and reading papers together. We had weekly meetings which were extremely anxiety-producing for me (not because of anything she did - my advisor was extremely welcoming and helpful) because I felt like I had to have a certain amount done each week in order to facilitate a reasonable amount of discussion and make sufficient progress. I got into bad cycles where I would avoid research because it was hard and I didn’t think I was good at it. I would put it off, and work on other things. I became really good at procrastinating my research in lieu of other tasks I needed to complete (including teaching, extracurricular activities, etc.). These things needed to be done, but they were happening at the expense of my research. I would then get really anxious about the fact that I hadn’t done enough research (which, ironically, made me less likely to work on it). Then at the last minute (usually Sunday late afternoon/evening), I would lock myself in my room and force myself to get something done. Needless to say, those weren't the most enjoyable evenings and this cycle wasn’t sustainable or healthy for me.

It was in the midst of this that the pandemic happened. We were sent home for spring break and while on break, we were notified that everything would move online for (at the time) a few weeks. That later turned into the rest of the semester. Teaching during the early pandemic required a lot of work, so I naturally shifted away from my research and focused on teaching. I didn’t want my students to feel as though they were being slighted in any way by our course moving online. And I was also being asked to help others transition online since I was one of the few instructors in the department who had taught online pre-pandemic. So, I avoided my research, but it seemed okay since everyone was dealing with crazy world events and we were all just doing our best. As time went on and we settled into our new routines, I began to think more critically about whether research (and therefore the Ph.D. and therefore a career as a professor) was something that I really wanted to pursue. I knew that I could do it if I really pushed myself, but I wondered if the cost to my mental health was worth it. Did I really want to make myself miserable for (at least) two more years so that I could get my Ph.D.? And then what? If I did end up getting a tenure track position (which was also a huge stressor for me), I knew that research would always be a part of that position. After lots of restless nights and discussion with family and friends, I made the difficult decision to leave the Ph.D. program.

Leaving the program (and coming to terms with the implications of doing so) was a difficult process that took a fair amount of time to work through. It meant saying goodbye to dear friends - there’s nothing quite like friendships forged by shared difficult experiences. It meant that I wouldn’t be getting a Ph.D., and it meant accepting that I could never get a job as a tenure-track professor. None of that was easy, and there are still aspects of leaving that I’m coming to terms with. But I haven’t regretted my decision for a second. I’m glad that I started the Ph.D. program because I made amazing friends, learned a lot, and challenged myself. But I’m also glad that I had the courage to leave when staying and maintaining the status quo (at my own expense) would have been the easier thing to do. Now, I’m back in the department in a teaching-only position. I couldn’t be happier. I get to work with awesome students and colleagues on exciting projects and courses.

At the end of the day, graduate school is hard! It’s hard to stay and get the degree. I have so much respect for my peers who are continuing to push through, and I’m especially proud of the ones who had to overcome so many more obstacles than I ever faced. At the same time, it’s also hard to leave graduate school without a terminal degree. It can feel like you failed or you’re giving up, like you should just stick out (especially if you’ve put in a significant amount of time). It can feel like you’re losing friends and you’re disappointing people who care about you. And it can feel like you’re giving up on your dream.

But it doesn’t always turn out like that. My friends, family and advisor were amazingly supportive, and I’m now able to pursue teaching (my dream job!) without having to worry about doing any research. So many people struggle in graduate school, whether they ultimately finish or not. You’ve got to do what’s best for you. Realize that you are the only one who can make this difficult decision since you are the one that is most impacted by it. And once you make your decision, own it. You are not a failure. Instead, you are finding a path that brings you more joy and meaning, a path that leverages your strengths. And isn’t that the ultimate goal?