One: On Road Trips
“How was the drive,” goes the usual question.
“You’ve seen the film, Mad Max, haven’t you?
“Yes, but what does that have to do with driving to and from Austin?”
“Well, that’s what it’s like driving through west Texas along the 10. Except, sometimes I think Mad Max had more people. I’m not kidding. It’s just brutal.”
“Then why do you do it?
“Because I have to. It’s the only way to get back and forth and, more importantly, have a care while I’m in California.
“Oh, I see. Seems… like it isn’t worth the hassle.
“Lots of things seem like they are not worth the hassle until you do it: then you realize it’s worth all the trouble and probably much more.”
Two: Kill Bill, Vol. 2 as a metaphor for Graduate School
“How’s the grad program going, Luke?”
“Have you ever seen, Kill Bill? Volume 2?”
“Uh, yes—I think so.”
“You know the scene when Beatrix Kiddo finally meets Pai Mei for the first time?”
“Yes.”
“When he tells her to attack him”
“Yes?”
“She’s convinced she’s a bad ass—that if she won’t win, she can at least hold her own.”
“Uh, where are you going with this? I want know how your program is going.”
“I’m getting there. You see, graduate school, especially a Ph.D. program is like that scene. In fact, that whole sequence must have been ripped from the pages of typical grad-school life. Every day you get your ass kicked. Every day you think that it didn’t matter how much A-game you brought: it wasn’t enough. You’re tired, broken, and on the verge of eating rice out of the bowl with your bare hands—but the Kung Fu Master forbids it. Thing is, eventually—a very long long eventually—you learn the Five Point Palm Exploding Heart Technique. You look back in retrospect and realize that your game got better, sharper, faster, and stronger without your notice. You just have to survive. You have to keep on pushing, not getting discouraged by setbacks, criticism, or disheartened.”
These are variations on conversations that I’ve had over the last few years. First when I was completing my Master’ degree, and more recently as I’ve begun the doctoral program in political theory. I’ve driven to and from Ohio and Philadelphia for years, and now that my drive is only effectively half the distance from California as before, the dread to which west Texas can be mirrors the way in which many approach the long road toward the Ph.D. It’s often used phrase to say a doctoral program is a marathon not a spring; and while there is some truth to that, the road trip is more apt because it’s a project that requires much planning, contains many opportunities for things to go run that are beyond your control, and offers little celebration at the end other than the simple pleasure other than some decent rest (until the job starts—if one finds a job). Still, many of us wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. The pay sucks, the hours are long, and workload difficult; but the social milieu is a perfect mix of inspiration, dialogue, and structure to foster creative research endeavors.
