Ten things I learned about getting into a PhD program

So as you know, if you made it to the end of my last post, the life of the Feminarian will continue at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley come fall. Sorry to disappoint all the Canada fans; I’m just a California girl and I can’t deny it.

I thought I’d write a bit about some of the things I learned in the process of applying for a PhD. I had a lot of great advice going in, and some of it worked well and some of it was less applicable in my case. So I want to throw out my own take on the conventional wisdom, in the hopes that it might be useful to anyone who’s considering this path.

1. Initial contact by email is good, but it is not the only determining factor. The only instance in which email worked the way I was told it could – that is, I emailed a professor I wanted to work with and we wound up with a great conversation that led to my application and acceptance – was in the case of Laurier. With GTU, I had emailed some of the profs last summer in my initial inquiries; I didn’t even hear back from the person who eventually became my advisor. The others were decidedly lukewarm about my prospects there (in a turn of events I find quite amusing, one of the people who is now most excited about my project had initially really tried to turn me away!). Had I relied on the email contact alone, I never would have even applied, much less decided to attend. Which leads me to my second point…

2. Nothing can replace in-person contact. I made the effort to meet one of the GTU profs in my field when he was in town giving a lecture. He encouraged me to visit the school, even though I’d entirely written it off as a place not interested in me or my work. I’m still not entirely sure why I listened to him, except that he was just so charming. So I went there, and wouldn’t you know, I fell in love with the place. Most importantly, I was able to be myself with them, talk face-to-face about my goals and passions, and convince them – and myself – that I did in fact belong there. I don’t think I could have possibly done that over email alone; I certainly couldn’t have gotten the “feel” of the school without actually visiting. And while I was there, I learned…

3. Don’t stand for misperceptions about your school or your degree. There is a reputation involved when you are coming from any school (let’s hope) or armed with any degree. I was coming from the Evangelical world, where liturgical studies is not exactly all that valued. People had no idea what kind of experience I could possibly have in the field. Furthermore, I was coming with an MDiv, a “professional” degree that, at many schools, is kind of the Mickey-Mouse program designed to train pastors but certainly not theologians or academics (which is the opposite of Fuller, where it’s the most rigorous academically). So after educating myself about the obstacles in my path, I had to…

4. Learn to translate your experience into their vocabulary. For GTU, that meant literally translating the words Fuller uses to refer to liturgical subjects into the more traditional terms used by liturgical theologians. The fact that I could hold my own in several conversations about the topic tipped off the profs that I was a serious scholar in this subject. It also helped a lot that I had good papers to show them from the doctoral seminars I’d taken. I had to know how to speak both languages: the Evangelical “worship” words and the more traditional “liturgy” language. Then I was able to explain how I had in fact gotten the experience they were looking for; I just had it under different terminology. A similar situation occurred with Laurier, where they were looking for a candidate with experience in religious studies. There I had to show that I was not only a theologian but also a scholar of religion. Having been around such persons through my interfaith work, I knew how to talk that talk as well. I was able to…

5. Present the candidate they want in their program. I’m not saying don’t be yourself. But there are ways, as mentioned above, that you can help them understand how well you fit with them. For me, the biggest aspect of this was in my transcript; mine was somewhat of a liability for both schools. So I created an addendum to the transcript for each school that explained the classes I’d taken, listed out the books we’d read and the papers I’d written, and connected the experience I had with the experience they expected to see from a person with an MA in either liturgy or religious studies. Beyond the transcript I also played up my experience as a TA, research assistant, and the interfaith work I did. Interestingly, the latter was spawned by my internship at USC, and internships are often pooh-poohed as non-academic wastes of a scholar’s time (they are part of the “professional” degree). In fact, I could show how mine had deepened my scholarly interests and played into exactly what I wanted to study. Every experience you’ve had can count; you just have to figure out how to present it. If you do this well, you’ll be accepted into programs that initially were very suspicious of your suitability. And then it’s time to…

6. Know thyself. As you know if you kept up with my decision process on here, once I knew where I was in it became less about the programs and more about myself. I realized that I had to discern who I really am, not only as a scholar but also as a person, to determine which program would fit me the best. It wasn’t just about future goals and how much money they offered, though those played a role, of course. It became about digging into myself and seeing where the deepest parts of me – my passions, my curiosity, my years-long fascination with worship, my sense of calling, and even my childhood dreams – matched one of these schools. And what I kept coming back to, I can only say was to…

7. Follow your heart. Or, as one of my mentors put it, “Go with the very center of your heart, not the peripheral stuff.” Or as several of my friends advised, “Trust your gut.” The fact is, when I was at GTU it just “felt” right. Add to that the fact that it matched what I’d wanted to do for years: since I was young and felt called to helping people get more out of church somehow to when I decided to go to seminary because I wanted to be part of worship renewal. The very middle of my heart was, I had to admit, in theology. I mean, look at what I do here on the blog – I mostly write about theological subjects in my spare time for fun! Once I focused on these things, the decision became clear. And I owed it to…

8. Surround yourself with honest people who know you. One of my mentors half-jokingly (or maybe not jokingly at all) told me I could come ask him when I was ready to know who I was, because he knew (and he wanted me to choose GTU). And my husband was great about listening to all my back-and-forth, but he had said from the beginning that he could tell where we belonged. Still, my most valued mentor was the person who kept pointing out the assets of each school, who forced me over and over to reevaluate and keep asking questions until I was sure I really knew everything I wanted to know to make the decision. Most importantly, he was brutally honest in his references for me, even telling schools not to take me if they couldn’t be for me what I needed. And he knew me well enough (and the schools I applied to well enough) to be able to say exactly who I am and how I may or may not fit with them. That is who you want writing your recs, my friends. Even if it causes you to get a rejection letter, it’s better than choosing a prestigious school where you’d be miserable. In the end, I honestly can’t say which school he wanted me to choose, because he was so incredibly neutral. Well, almost…

9. Don’t settle. The one issue on which he wasn’t neutral – and didn’t work in his favor, either – was that he admitted that Fuller simply did not have the resources, financially or academically, to match the other programs I’d been accepted to. Here was the person who admitted me to work with him (one of two he takes each year), who I’m pretty sure wanted me to do so, and yet he flat out told me not to settle for the comfortable school, the easy school, because he could see down the road that I’d hit a ceiling and be ultimately frustrated. I cannot express how grateful I am to have had people able to look me in the eye and say yes, Fuller will be a simpler choice, it will make your life easier now, but in the long run, it can’t serve you as well as the other programs. That was truly humble, honest advice that was finally about serving me well as a student and not about serving the school’s interests. And so once that final hurdle was removed (that is, the temptation to go the “easy” route and stay put)…

10. Never look back. My decision is made, and it’s all forward from here. Today my letter finally showed up from Laurier (I knew it would as soon as I sent my acceptance to GTU), and there simply wasn’t anything in it that tempted me. I was able to tell Fuller they could give my spot and my scholarship to another student, and that felt really good too. Now I can get to the fun work of reading up on the people who I will work with (which, btw, conventional wisdom says to do before you apply – and I did somewhat, sort of, ummm….not as much as I probably should have! But I had great mentors to trust!), and planning out my program for the next few years, and learning about where I’ll be living and the fabulous foodie world that’s up there. Yes, it’s going to be one helluva ride, and who knows how we’ll pay for it all? But me, J, and baby, we’re ready for the next great adventure. And we know God’s with us every step of the way.

And of course the blog can – and really, must – continue, even though I’m no longer going to be in seminary. Wouldn’t you agree?