Academia is a highly competitive battleground like no other. It is costly, not only financially, but also emotionally, riddled with rigorous long-term pressures in isolation. With the added pressures of employment and motherhood, life can become incredibly challenging, wholly incompatible with mental health. Unsurprisingly, not everyone thrives in this arena as evident in the high attrition rates. In fact, I have questioned my own progress many times along the way. So far, I have found that it is also a battle with oneself: the ability to endure, to persevere, and to remain resilient.    

Building My Identity in Academia

Statistically, I am not even supposed to be here, at the pinnacle of academia. A foster child and later a Permanent Ward of the Government of British Columbia from birth to age 18, the odds of even completing high school were against me. As a child, there was endless chaos. Many times, I lacked basic needs. For instance, I did not know when I would eat my next meal and what little clothing I had was mismatched and dirty. English was my second language and with little guidance, I was left woefully unprepared with substantial disadvantages, not just in school, but for life itself. A loner with little social skills, I found solace in books where other worlds existed, and school became my sanctuary. Even though I did not fit in nor have to mentality to learn, school provided shelter until my life stabilised enough for me to focus on learning, instead of survival. I knew that education was key to a new life because it did not matter where I came from, only what I could achieve. Still, I struggled.  

For years, I felt out of place, unworthy, with trauma in my formative years echoing in my head. Without consistent role models, I lacked realistic goalposts, so I set extremely high expectations for myself, and this led to perfectionism and anxiety. I learned to pour my energy into study. Academia’s rules and the scheduled timetables offered me the structure I craved as my home life lacked rhyme or reason, and the more I learned, the more I yearned for knowledge. Most importantly, what I earned could never be taken from me.   

With time, I was able to focus on my studies and eventually do well. Academia’s meritocracy gave me a chance to succeed on equal footing despite the great odds against me. Indeed, my psychology degree taught me about the mysteries of the human psyche, and my education degree taught me about the stages of child development without which I would have been utterly lost as a mother, especially when play was a foreign concept. Through it all, I kept my past hidden due to the stigmas and the shame. I also refused to play the victim, nor did I want the pity of anyone who might treat me differently. After years of hard work and luck, I have arrived at the summit of my figurative Everest, my chosen symbol of resistance against my unconventional trauma. Now, it is time to reconcile my past and my present, a renegotiation of my own identity, developed throughout academia. 

Identity Renegotiation 

Coming full circle, it is not surprising that my dissertation topic revolves around the identity renegotiation and reconstruction among displaced people. Specifically, I am exploring how their identities may have shifted through the forced departures from their homeland, how they experience navigating different life in a new land, and their agency with a foreign language. Through a multi-phase study, I have glimpsed into their struggles of loss and adapting to new realities. Though there are stark differences, these undertones are familiar and have awaken my own trauma. I have discovered that what I had considered resolved remains an echo.     

Unsurprisingly, I find myself reflecting more upon my own identity, pondering some of the very questions I ask my participants: Who am I? How have my experiences impacted my identity? How has my identity impacted my experiences? Though I am fully entrenched in academia as a student, I am also near the end of my doctoral journey. Will I be able to thrive outside of academia? At the junction where I should know who I am and where I am headed, I am also incredibly lost. Further, how can I possibly continue identity research when I do not even know who I am? This makes me feel hypocritical and fraudulent. Spiralling down into the recesses of my mind is a dark experience, one I have experienced many times, and I hardly recognize myself sometimes. 

Full Circle

I am not sure of what path awaits me after I complete my doctorate degree. There are numerous paths I can take with various degrees of appeal, including the non-profit sector, starting my own charity, taking a much-needed vacation to truly rest, or even just disappearing and starting a new life in somewhere. On the other hand, I have also already mapped the next programs that I want to pursue. Now, more than ever, I realize how fully entrenched I am in academia. It has been my sanctuary for so long that I am unsure who or what I am without it. Sadly, this complex, competitive, chaotic world is my comfort zone, which ironically, has preserved me yet also keeps me entrapped. 

I cannot speak to my classmates’ thoughts and experiences. Despite being in a cohort together, we are all on our own paths, far apart. We have all came together from our respective destinations and embarked on this journey for our own reasons. We travel at different paces and lead such hectic lives that we do not ever share our personal journeys or the toil of our mental health. We do not discuss our isolation, the exhaustion, how all-encompassing academia is and how it impacts us. It is difficult to speak of such things because it is a privilege to have even reached this level and it does not seem logical to complain about this path that we have chosen. 

For me, identity is multifaceted: who I am, my values, how all these factors impact me and I them. Similar to the displaced individuals who have generously shared some experiences with me, I realize that without that which defines us, we can lose our anchors and footholds, yet life continues, albeit in a different and unexpected way. This is true for me as well. I am a woman, a wife, a mother, an educator, a student, and a friend. I am all of these in different capacities and intensities. There are other aspects of my identity outside of academia. It is a part of me, but it does not define me. Regardless of your journey, academia does not define you either.       

Artificial Intelligence (AI) Statement

No AI tools or technologies were utilised in this blog.

Biography

May holds numerous degrees in psychology, education, and educational research. She is a knowledge seeker with thousands of questions and numerous interests. She continues to negotiate her identity within and beyond the scope of academia.

This blog is kindly sponsored by G-Research.