Yesterday I almost lost my sh*t in front of an auditorium full of college sophomores.
I spoke at a symposium at my undergraduate alma mater (Wheaton College) and it was a rather amazing day in several respects — from the thoughtful programming aimed to inspire sophomores to avoid the traditional slump and explore life options, to the fact that some 100 or so sophomores opted in to this programming on a Saturday, to the honor of being invited to tell the story of my linear then divergent paths, to the pleasure of interfacing with a remarkably thoughtful, smart, and mature group of students who allowed me to (at least temporarily) cast away my fears that all girls end up being the bullies or the bullied.
To take a few (relevant) steps back: Wheaton was where my passion for studying music and psychology bloomed, and as I later progressed through my M.A., Ph.D., and postdoctoral fellowship, the notion that I had evolved into something of an academic poster child for the college was not lost on me. Let’s be frank: I photograph and speak well, was pursuing an interesting interdisciplinary research trajectory, and was an active alum. The stars were aligned.
So when I left academia in 2006, I felt like a black sheep for jumping ship. Part of me fretted that my professors were disappointed in me (I’m one of those people who hates to disappoint…), and part of me was disappointed in myself for not achieving my dream of going back and teaching at Wheaton alongside my mentors. However, while guilt used to be an effective catalyst to propel me into action, more pressing was the fact that I needed to exit my postdoc immediately. It was not the right fit for me creatively, I was emotionally drowning, and I also was in physical harm’s way.
My talk at Wheaton signaled the first time I have been asked back to the college to speak through the lens of my second, non-academic career. And as I reeled off my story and jokes, I realized two things. First, my father was clearly on my mind — I referenced his desire for me to be a lawyer then politician then talk show host (because I’m a talker), as well as his lack of support when I opted against the Ivy League for my Ph.D. (as in, he hung up the phone on me when I told him and didn’t speak to me for a good stretch of time). Second, at Wheaton a remarkably thoughtful and generous collection of mentors were instrumental in helping me rule out various careers (said lawyer and politician) and carve out my path as a music and brain scientist, and many of them were in the room, spending their hard earned Saturday guiding countless students forward in their journeys.
So why did I nearly lose my sh*t in front of a group of kids some 15 or so years my junior? I was at the point in my story where I was talking about my Ph.D. acceptances. This whole phase of my life was very loaded: I was devastated when I didn’t get accepted to Ph.D. programs immediately after undergrad, and I was burnt out after my M.A.; I actually was very close to leaving the field. However, as soon as the acceptances started rolling in I forgot all of the reasons I was planning on leaving the field because someone wanted me. I narrowed my decision to two schools: an Ivy League with a lunatic advisor (I was advised against working with her by graduate students and faculty alike) and a not as well known (at the time to me) Canadian university with a well respected advisor. My father and my M.A. advisor were concerned only with pedigree; they told me to head to the Ivy League and just put my head down and power through it. And they made it very clear that I would be disappointing them (and the lab, the family, the world, etc., if I made a different choice). But something felt wrong to me so I called one of my key mentors in psychology from Wheaton, Derek Price. And it was this moment — during which I recalled Derek and my conversation, and all of the rationalizations my father and M.A. advisor made about going to the Ivy League, and Derek’s urging that I would be crazy to march into certain death; that an advisor dictates your quality of life and that the clear choice was the Canadian university — that I felt the tears well to my eyes, my throat tighten, and my voice start wobbling. I couldn’t even make a joke about being faklempt I was so faklempt.
That phone call not only saved me from several guaranteed years of hell, but it also made clear that to Derek, I was a person, not a commodity. And on Saturday, as I told my story to these sophomores — on the campus where I forged all of the skills that allowed me to leave a decade long career and start a new one successfully — it dawned on me that I wasn’t being “welcomed back” per se, because my family at Wheaton never hung up the phone on me in the first place.
10:50 pm on January 31st, 2010
And many of us are so lucky that you did choose that Cdn University…otherwise we may not have known you. Plus you came to stay with me when you visited…and helped me figure out how to put contact lenses in…it was true love…
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12:14 am on February 1st, 2010
Aw, hell, now you’ve made me all farklempt. What an amazing moment for you. Congratulations on making this discovery about your academic family.
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9:12 am on February 1st, 2010
Thanks so much for being a part of this experience, and for sharing such an intimate part of yourself with these sophomores. As evidenced by the group you sat with at lunch, your story truly resonated with them. Thanks also for being a part of *my* Wheaton family — I’m so lucky! XOXO
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10:40 am on February 1st, 2010
Aww..such a wonderful moment. We all need these revelations in our lives.
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10:43 am on February 1st, 2010
Christine -
I had an eerily familiar experience at my alma matta BC just 2 weeks ago, speaking to a group of college athletes. I emphasized seeking out ‘advisors’ to help with the experience - as nobody prepares you for some of the difficult challenges and decisions to be made during those years, and sometimes parents are unavailable. Geez, we should connect. I have been thinking more about how to better support these great college kids, as right now I’ve been talking to a few of them who have reached out on an individual basis. It would be great to have a network with easy access to all those kids (girls) who could use the support of someone who has been there, done that, and who is not too personally vested in a relationship with them.
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10:44 am on February 1st, 2010
I’m glad to hear that you ultimately made the right choice for you. Too often we let others choose the wrong path for us. How nice that you had someone in your corner to support you and allow you to do this.
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11:03 am on February 1st, 2010
hear, hear! and ditto to what leslie said! I still struggle with the academic fall out, and it is likely that because I still live in the same community where I did my grad work, that I feel the “frowns” more acutely because I’ve decided to go against the grain, take chances, get messy and make mistakes. Apparently, around here, you can’t be legit if you focus solely on private practice. go figure.
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11:22 am on February 1st, 2010
Thanks for sharing this! I can identify with your story. I jumped the art history/museum academic ship, initially because of illness. Then I realized I liked the outside world and ended up starting Chroma Lab.
In many ways I shared your feelings of personal failure and the fear that I was disappointing advisors when I left school. I realized after awhile that even if people were honestly disappointed (and I’m not convinced they are), I couldn’t let that dictate my life.
I’m very glad to hear how you have followed the path you are meant to be on! Not only is it best for you, that’s also the best possible example you could set for your daughter.
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11:23 am on February 1st, 2010
Moving, powerful, memorable. Thank you, Christine. This piece is the perfect length, the perfect snapshot of your academic career and the event. Thank you for letting us in.
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1:29 pm on February 1st, 2010
Rock on. I always loved Prof Price too.
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4:33 pm on February 1st, 2010
Hi Christine,
I can only imagine how emotional that speech must have been for you. And I hope that your father has since forgiven you for making that choice, and is as proud of you as he should be…
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9:14 am on February 2nd, 2010
It’s so fascinating to hear other peoples’ stories… to see what moments defined their journey. Thanks for sharing!
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2:07 pm on February 8th, 2010
I appreciated this post. As an academic who mentors many, many, undergraduate and graduate students, I try very hard to nurture their goals, whatever they may be (many of them have taken the traditional academic route, but others have ended up in teaching jobs, social work, medicine, law, the arts, or at home with their children). I understand that while this is my dream job, it may not be the case for my students. I have also come to understand over time the tremendous impact that my approval has on them, so this piece was a terrific reminder for me in that regard.
Of course, this understanding is a two-way street. Sometimes, people who do not end up on these ‘predicted paths’ (in this case, the ivory tower) feel the need to denigrate those who mentor them or their peers who stayed the course and who love their own career choice just as much. The bottom line is that mutual respect is needed: everyone is on their own trajectory and there are multiple pathways to success (which I’ll define here as personal happiness).
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10:22 am on February 16th, 2010
You were, and still are, my Wheaton poster child! Most especially I love the way you have always negotiated your way through the family, forging your personal identity and maintaining those connections that I know are so important to your mother and daughter now. THAT’s the next story to tell for all the dutiful Korean daughters… both biological and adopted. Love ya!
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11:50 am on March 12th, 2010
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