Today via email, for the first time, I was referred to as David's "assistant." Yes, I know that my title is Research Assistant, but my business card title is Project Manager. And I do research and work for the center, and yes, I suppose I assist David. I have met and come to rely on a number of assistants, administrative and otherwise, in the past couple weeks. They are some of the hardest working people here, and I deeply respect what they do and how underappreciated they are. And yet, today, I felt my entire body stiffen. My parents did not raise me to be someone else's assistant.
I think this just hit me at a vulnerable time. I've been watching my boss carefully lately. He's fairly young to have the amount of academic responsibility he has, and I'm going to soak it all up like a sponge. I'm also going to learn about university finances and I'm sure one day that will come in handy too. And in the past couple years I've started to feel much more confidently about my path. I didn't go to grad school right away because I didn't know what I wanted to do. I think that was a great decision.
When I do make it back to grad school in a couple years, I'm going to be bringing all this great life and academic experience with me. I'm going to be motivated and invested and used to making more than dirt and therefore ready to get in and get it done. I know this. That is my plan. I'm working toward that plan every day I'm here.
And then someone called me David's assistant, in writing, where somehow it seemed more permanent perhaps, and the feeling that I have sometimes, that maybe I've waited too long, pokes me in the kidneys. I want to work for NSF or NOAA, and bright shiny up-and-comers work for them. They get internships when they're 12 and get young innovator awards. It doesn't matter what amazing things I do, I won't ever get a young innovator award because by the time I get there, I won't be young anymore.
Have I waited too long? Have I missed my window? Am I spending my best brain years making someone else look good?
In a sense, all this doubt is pointless. I couldn't have done it any better; I'm sure of that. And even if I could have, I can't go back now. All I can do is press onward, but I wish someone could tell me Yes, there's still hope, keep going, or No, it's too late. Settle in there and make the best of it. And I know I can still be an academic, which honestly, compared to the rest of the world's problems makes this whole blog post fall under the "whiny first world bitch" category. But I don't want to work at some tiny college in the middle of nowhere teaching English for Engineers. I want to study interesting things and talk to people who might actually be able to effect change. Will anyone listen to someone who didn't get their degree until they were 35?
** After re-reading this, it still just sounds so bitchy and prideful. I suppose pride is part of it, probably a lot of it, and if it's true, there's no sense denying it. But it also sounds so disrespectful to "assistanthood", which I don't know what to do about. I value what they do. The amount of stuff they have to remember and juggle and make work is incredible. It's just not for me.
I think this just hit me at a vulnerable time. I've been watching my boss carefully lately. He's fairly young to have the amount of academic responsibility he has, and I'm going to soak it all up like a sponge. I'm also going to learn about university finances and I'm sure one day that will come in handy too. And in the past couple years I've started to feel much more confidently about my path. I didn't go to grad school right away because I didn't know what I wanted to do. I think that was a great decision.
When I do make it back to grad school in a couple years, I'm going to be bringing all this great life and academic experience with me. I'm going to be motivated and invested and used to making more than dirt and therefore ready to get in and get it done. I know this. That is my plan. I'm working toward that plan every day I'm here.
And then someone called me David's assistant, in writing, where somehow it seemed more permanent perhaps, and the feeling that I have sometimes, that maybe I've waited too long, pokes me in the kidneys. I want to work for NSF or NOAA, and bright shiny up-and-comers work for them. They get internships when they're 12 and get young innovator awards. It doesn't matter what amazing things I do, I won't ever get a young innovator award because by the time I get there, I won't be young anymore.
Have I waited too long? Have I missed my window? Am I spending my best brain years making someone else look good?
In a sense, all this doubt is pointless. I couldn't have done it any better; I'm sure of that. And even if I could have, I can't go back now. All I can do is press onward, but I wish someone could tell me Yes, there's still hope, keep going, or No, it's too late. Settle in there and make the best of it. And I know I can still be an academic, which honestly, compared to the rest of the world's problems makes this whole blog post fall under the "whiny first world bitch" category. But I don't want to work at some tiny college in the middle of nowhere teaching English for Engineers. I want to study interesting things and talk to people who might actually be able to effect change. Will anyone listen to someone who didn't get their degree until they were 35?
** After re-reading this, it still just sounds so bitchy and prideful. I suppose pride is part of it, probably a lot of it, and if it's true, there's no sense denying it. But it also sounds so disrespectful to "assistanthood", which I don't know what to do about. I value what they do. The amount of stuff they have to remember and juggle and make work is incredible. It's just not for me.
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