My PhD Defense
This past Monday, February 17th, I defended my PhD dissertation. This was an experience that my fellow postgraduates and I have been talking—and worrying—about since day one at VUW. In some ways, it was exactly what everyone said it was going to be; at the same time, it was an experience unique to me and my thesis. I’ve decided to reflect on it here because this blog is, after all, partly meant to chart my professional development.
What struck me the most about the oral defense was the toned down atmosphere. I had imagined it in turns as either formal and serious or as an animated discussion. It was neither. Someone (I can’t recall who) said afterwards that it was one of the most “chill” examinations they had been a part of. (“Chill” is kind of New Zealand’s national slogan, but I assure you that it was by no means “chill” from where I was sitting!) Now that it’s been a few days, I can articulate the atmosphere a bit better. For everyone except me, it seemed like a Monday morning meeting: subdued, resigned, a box ticked at the start of a particularly busy week. For me, it was exciting and momentous. My hands shook. I reminded myself to make eye contact with my examiners, but I couldn’t meet my supervisors’ eyes. I was too nervous.
At the time, I couldn’t really understand why the atmosphere felt the way it did. I found myself trying to match the vibe of everyone else in the room. Now that I think about it, the rainy weather also probably played a role, especially after two weeks of summer sunshine. Still, I went in keenly aware that this was the snake fight all academics had to brave at some point. To most people, a PhD seems formidable, even unfathomable. I wanted it to be that, too, in a way. I wanted to come out of there knowing that I had prevailed against unlikely odds. In reality, the oral examination was not the battleground.
This important professional accolade has gone hand in hand with the most precarity I’ve ever experienced in my personal life. It is more than embarrassing to admit, but I cannot afford rent anymore; I have a very small amount of money that has to last until…I find a job? The truth is that I still have the same anxiety about tomorrow as I did the day before my defense. The real battle was not passing the defense; it was keeping my sense of self worth over the course of four years of producing a body of work.
What has changed is that I can talk about my PhD in the past tense now. All of the big milestones are behind me. My proposal was accepted a full three years ago! I wrote the introduction, which I saved until after I had drafted my discussion chapters, one year ago. I submitted in September 2019 and didn’t defend until 2020. Now I have to wrap up loose ends, which does not entail the kind of mental pressure of research and writing. Yay! The strange part is that I actually feel equipped for that kind of mental strain in a way that I had a tenuous hold on throughout the last four years. I can attribute this new level of confidence to my thesis.
Do I feel different? One thing I was secretly hoping for—and that did not happen in the end—was that they would call me into the room by saying, “Congratulations, Dr. Heward.” All I can say is thank goodness for the Facebook friends who caught on to my new moniker. They might not know about the pitfalls I faced, but through their heartfelt congratulations, I feel triumphant.
What’s next? Despite the unknowns I’m facing right now, I am looking forward to what the rest of 2020 holds. I imagine spending this year preparing articles for publication and applying for jobs. Ideally, I will be progressing my career from a new location. I will definitely spend some time with my family, who I haven’t visited in two and a half years. I’m excited to develop this website, too. I hope to enter 2021 richer (literally and figuratively), ready to hit the ground running on many new projects.