It’s finally here: I’ve attended the last seminar of my last graduate class. I’m graduating on the 14th of December with my Masters in History. It’s odd, as soon as class adjourned Wednesday night I found myself thinking, “Wait, that’s it? It’s over?”
It ended with almost a whimper. The reason for this is that the hard part was two weeks ago. Two weeks ago I sat my MA exams. Two weeks ago, I fought for the right to call myself a historian. Two weeks ago, I won that right… and now I’m just waiting for everything to wrap up, for commencement, for dinner at Fox Brothers with my family to celebrate, and a graduation party.
Welcome to the real world, self. What’s next? I’m not entirely sure. I’m looking for a full-time job, I want to start learning to play the guitar, I want to take up tennis, I want to start a novel… so many choices. So many opportunities.
Let me tell you the most valuable lesson I learned during my graduate program. It’s not how to gut a book. It’s not how to manage my work and school responsibilities and maintain a social life (hell, if you asked me how I did that, I’m not sure I’d be able to answer you anyway). It’s not even how to write a solid 5-page response paper within the ticking confines of a lunch hour.
The most important lesson I learned? Show up.
I don’t just mean show up to class, though that’s pretty much one of the most important aspects of being a graduate student. What I’m really talking about is getting anything done in the university system. The website is hardly ever helpful. Calling a department doesn’t work unless you actually like to sit on the phone with an undergrad who is getting paid diddlysquat to pretend to know the answers to your questions. Emailing is a crapshoot depending on who is on the other end.
If you want to actually get something done, you have to walk in there determined to get it done and you have to become That Person, the person that repeats themselves incessantly, that emails once a day until a question is answered, that “sends back the steak” if something isn’t right, and that walks into Financial Aid and refuses to leave until they talk to the person with whom they wish to talk. The person that sends emails via smartphone from outside someone’s empty office that say, “Hey. I’m here for our 5:30 meeting, and you are not. I’m going to hang around for 10 minutes in case you are stuck in traffic. Then I’m going to leave and we’re going to reschedule this, and you are going to show up next time, or I’m going to set your office on fire.”
(I never actually threatened anyone.)
(But I wanted to.)
(Oh, I wanted to.)
I’m not entirely unconvinced that the university system’s goal of providing its entrants with higher education is only a front for its One True Goal: teaching its entrants the art of patience. I learned just as much about dealing with ridiculous paperwork and logistical issues as I did about Modern European History during my two and a half year Masters program. I extended the short leash I had on my temper and I honed my strategic planning skills. And I became very good at getting my ducks in a row. My ducks are lined up.
I’m done. I’m graduating on December 14th with a Masters in Modern European History… and an unofficial minor in Handling Real-World Nonsense. I feel pretty accomplished.
I think the main goal of most graduate programs is to test your patience in dealing with bureaucracy and jumping through hoops and loops.
I also learned to become That Person and I really believe that I am all the better for it. I was definitely not That Person in undergrad — it reminds me of something a colleague once told me – that we are responsible for making sure we take care of ourselves and our priorities are set.
Congrats on finishing your program, Teija! You are now a Master! Welcome to the club.