Eigen

So after some of the recent discussion elsewhere on the board, I thought it might be nice to start an (admittedly early) job market support thread for those of us going on (or back on) the market in this upcoming cycle. 
For people on for the first time, I thought it might be nice to start early as a place to ask questions as you're preparing materials, and give those of us on for multiple years a place to commiserate and soothe our souls by helping someone else out. 
Since we have such a relatively small group of people at this stage, lets start with a combined thread for all of our woes, and can split it into disciplines if we want at a later date if the crowd grows enough. From conversations with friends, the application process isn't so different that there isn't a ton of overlap. 

Both of these things are, imo, normal parts of grad school (getting asked random questions with no preparation, as well as feeling like other people think you don't belong), as well as the rest of academic life.
You can only prepare so much, especially depending on what your background is. That said, what you should focus on being able to do is, as you say, think on your feet. You can preface it (I'm not that familiar with past project X, but...) and then give what you feel is a reasonable answer. 
One of the most important things to be able to do, really for the rest of your career, is give reasonable off the cuff answers without having it stress you out. I get this type of random question in campus interviews, I get it when I'm giving seminars at a new school, and I even get it from colleagues. I also get it an awful lot from students, who seem to be able to (with no malice) find the one tangential area to a lecture that I didn't read too deeply into, and asking probing and insightful questions that I have no idea how to answer. 
For the second part, I think a lot of what you're feeling is what's called "imposter syndrome". It's the feeling like you don't belong, like everyone else is smarter, and they think you don't belong either. It's really common among academics, and I encourage you to read some of the great resources here, on the Chronicle of Higher Education forums, and other academic sites about how to deal with it. A lot of times knowing it's normal and common is one of the crucial first steps. 

I can say with absolute certainty that the MSW students in my area do not get enough training that is science based nor are they prepared for the myriad of consequential job responsibilities. Working with local state organizations (e.g., Child Welfare Services, Department of Human Service, etc.), I've seen many Social Workers make assessments, recommendations, or suggest interventions based on past/personal experiences. When asked how decisions were made and if they had a set of procedures (specific to situations or populations), I learned that decisions were commonly based on other cases or personal beliefs and no such procedure existed. Which worries me deeply - how do we know Social Workers are not influenced by biases in making their decisions? I've also witnessed Social Workers who categorize individuals into a immutable mold: "Oh, they've experienced sexual trauma? Well, then you can expect to see [X, Y, and Z] from them. They will not like [X, Y, and Z], so be sure not to do any of those things. Only [X, Y, and Z] will help in this situation." Perhaps, this is only my experience. To improve practice and service, attention needs to be focused on the ways that Social Workers form judgements and make decisions with an aim to have the most efficacious outcome. And, that's where research comes in, how do we train competent Social Workers - who are expected to make crucial assessments or provide counseling - when they simply do not know/implement the science? To be absolutely clear, I am not saying a MSW is lesser than a PhD. I am saying that a MSW should not be tasked with responsibilities nor make crucial, lasting decisions that are above their training level. 

Hello, 
I'm writing this in order to help understand something that's currently dumbfounding me - how can it be that Social Workers are prepared to practice counseling and therapy? 
I'm currently attending grad school in order to obtain my LMFT, and I have a bacholers in Psychology. My grandpa was a Psychologist, so I grew up understanding the depths of psychoanalysis,  psychometry, and CBT. 
I've worked in several agencies that offer therapy by people who have social work degrees, and have found that many people who are receiving therapy by social workers often don't get the psychological treatment and cognitive/behavioral change seen with people that hold degrees with a Psychological and Therapeutic/Counseling background. 
In fact, while researching several Masters level programs in Social Work, I have yet to run across any programs that offer in depth classes that promote therapeutic approaches - such as  Theories of Psychology, or Basic Counseling classes...
It was shocking to find out that Oklahoma allows Social Workers to practice therapy on someone, when I don't feel they're adequately trained! 
Please help me understand what I'm missing here... 
 

This post is meant as an encouragement and reassurance for all people facing the two-body problem in academia. An encouragement I wish I (we) had had.
We made it work in combination with an open marriage. (OK, it's only been a year - full disclosure)
Many of you might have seen this article on Open Marriage in the New York Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/05/11/magazine/is-an-open-marriage-a-happier-marriage.html?_r=0
(A rather convoluted but honest presentation of what my - our - experience has been with that.)
In a nutshell: the main issue with open marriage is jealousy. My spouse and I were unable to overcome it. But we have found ways of avoiding it, and since we have established a set of rules, the main of which is "don't ask don't tell", our marriage has become happier.
The reason why we needed to go with open marriage was because both my spouse and I are currently in graduate school, just not in the same country. And the way it looks, I doubt we'll ever live in the same town due to the nature of academic careers - we are not willing to settle for anything less than the best we can get. So we now live apart, and we had been together for 10 y. But we have our needs, and our "philosophy" says that polyamory is fine just fine. So ever since we started living separately we have been in an open marriage and it has been great. We renewed our vows mid-way through the academic year, because we felt a much stronger connection than ever before once we met on a honeymoon-style vacation.
That's the big advantage of solving the 2-body problem by living separately. You only get the best of the relationship:
-- Nobody gets frustrated over not being able to fully pursue their career potential. And we f----ing love what we do.
-- Every meeting is a honeymoon, when each spouse makes an effort to be at their sweetest, most exciting, most energetic self.
-- When you're away, you share with each other the best things happening to you, you share happiness and joy, and you don't overload each other with the transient day-to-day crap that gets resolved within a day (I'm not talking about major issues).
-- You get to make your own schedule for sleep, work, play and you pick what you eat
-- You learn to deal with stuff by yourself, and you become stronger from it.
-- You get lots of free time to explore who you are, to pursue hobbies or other lovers, instead of just compromising on your time off with your spouse. Then, you share with each other the independent discoveries that you made and you make each other that much richer.
-- You get funny comments like: "You're a power couple" and it makes you all nice and fuzzy inside. (That's actually an important point: you gotta project the image of success and learn to present the long-distance relationship in a positive light, and "power couple" is one socially acceptable way of talking about it.)
And it's not just us! I have talked to other academic friends and once they heard me talk openly about the pluses of living in different cities, they all confirmed that yes, they actually enjoy extended time off from their spouses/families. It's just that society makes it so unacceptable for anyone to ever admit that.
So to all you out there contemplating sacrificing one of the careers over living separately, it is not always the best choice. Long-distance relationships are not that bad. People focus on the bad when they talk about it because that's expected of them, but you make your own happiness and the smart couple of academics that you are - you are in an excellent position to make it work if career is key for you.

Actually, by offering a point in a discussion thread specifically based around this issue, you did indirectly ask for advice (or at least commentary) on your situation. 

Where did I say anything about "going out to bars"? Oh, that's right. I didn't. My concern is more that someone who is singlemindedly focused on coursework and research misses out on some of the key learning that's necessary to succeed in academia. As much as I loathe drama and politics, academia is full of them and being able to navigate these successfully is crucial when you're junior faculty. Even outside of academia, every workplace has its drama and it pays to pay attention, even if only so you can avoid getting caught up in it. You don't have to take my advice but, maybe someone else on this thread will find it of value.
@SarahBethSortino, I did plenty of socializing (both with my cohort and with others) in grad school that didn't involve going to the bars. We would go out for coffee, have work sessions in local coffee shops, work out together at the gym, watched sports together (live or on tv) etc. A lot of what I did with people was driven by our shared interests. I know that others would go biking, hiking, or rock climbing together, for example.
Looking back at my PhD, I had two good friends in my cohort (one MA/PhD student and one PhD student) plus two good friends (one each from the two cohorts ahead of mine*). As others have said, those are the people who have reviewed my grant, fellowship, and job application materials (yes, even when we were applying for the same thing!), given me feedback on drafts of journal articles, etc. In my case, we all have similar-ish research interests, which makes some of those things easier. I've never actually published with any of them, though I also wouldn't rule it out as something that might happen in the future. Those in the cohorts ahead of me were useful for thinking about exams, committees, coursework strategies, navigating weird institutional policies, etc.
Here's what I've noticed about those who were from the city where I did my PhD and had a network outside of campus. They didn't make close friends with anyone but then would all of a sudden become very friendly when they needed something. This meant that they were a lot nicer to others when they wanted a copy of your successful fellowship application, for you to share a syllabus and set of assignments you developed, or wanted your feedback on their fellowship/grant materials. I... dislike when people do that. It's one thing to share with your friends and another to share with someone who is basically a stranger that you've seen in the hall sometimes. So, regardless of whether you make lifelong friendships, I'd encourage everyone to cultivate collegial relationships with others in the program so you gain these informal benefits.
*BTW, when I say "cohort", I'm referring to when we started our degrees. For any number of reasons, several of us finished around the same time, despite not starting in the same year.

Actually, by offering a point in a discussion thread specifically based around this issue, you did indirectly ask for advice (or at least commentary) on your situation. 

I know you didn't. The OP mentioned this in her post and I was providing what has worked for me as an alternative. I was offering my perspective as an older student and did not ask for your advice or judgement. 

Actually, by offering a point in a discussion thread specifically based around this issue, you did indirectly ask for advice (or at least commentary) on your situation. 

Actually, by offering a point in a discussion thread specifically based around this issue, you did indirectly ask for advice (or at least commentary) on your situation. 

Are you planning on continuing in academia? Because, if so, you may find that there are things to do besides go to class and do your work if you want to be successful...

Thanks for your unsolicited feedback. Yes, I do "other things" in order to be successful. There are many ways of networking and cultivating interpersonal relationships, but "going out to bars" every weekend with your cohort doesn't have to be one of them. 

FWIW, even though I had a number of friends already in the city where I did my PhD.... the very close friends I made in my cohort are at least 30% of the reason I made it through sane and graduated. Even with my wife as a grad student at the same school, people in my cohort were going through what I was, when I was, and I trusted them to give me advice about what I was going through. 
Your cohort mates (in a non-dysfunctional cohort) are the people who should act as a safety net. The people that will know when you're going to have a bad day, or who can read the signs part way through and make sure you take time off in the evening to blow off steam. Also, as mentioned, they are your future colleagues. Not all of them are people who you want to keep up with after grad school, but getting to know your department enough to know which ones you do is key. My two close friends from my cohort and I still try to get together a few times a year (conferences or otherwise), and have gone on vacations with our significant others now that we're out and actually making decent salaries. They're the people I trust to look over manuscripts, give feedback on grants I'm working on, and help me through tough career decisions. 
I definitely saw people who got "over involved", but I think keeping a healthy balance of fun intermixed with grad school is crucial. For you, that may not be with your cohort or going out to bars (not really my thing either), but making sure you have time that you spend doing things that are not productive is important. 

You're assuming you'll be the only one who isn't the traditional age, or that doesn't fit in easily to the culture. 
Graduate school is largely a bunch of people with really divergent backgrounds and interests and experiences that can make for some really great friendships, or at least acquaintances. Not always the case, and there's definitely a slice of grad students that are "traditional" heavy partiers just out of undergrad... But I can guarantee that anywhere you end up that will not account for all of your cohort. So find the people that are unusual or interesting, and make friendships there. 
My officemate was ~10 years older than the average grad student, and married with kids. We had one guy in our cohort that had been a professor in Russia for quite some time and was swapping fields, and another that was in his late 50s.

I think it's important to also consider the context/reason why these grad school websites suggest making an effort to make friends with your cohort. In my opinion, the reason is that you do not want to be isolated in your program. Grad school can be a tough time and having a strong social support network is important. 
So, building good friendships in grad school is one (maybe the most common) way of getting this support. However, for you, @SarahBethSortino, since it sounds like you are already going to be in a good place in your new city, with friendships already established, then this might not be as relevant to you. If you find your own support elsewhere, that's great. 
I would say that friendships in grad school can serve other roles too though. Briefly, here are some reasons to try to make friends with your cohort and/or other students in your program (in different years):
1. They can provide support specific to your department/school and look out for you. For example, when I was starting out, if I have a weird interaction with a prof, I can go to my older friends to see what it might mean. Or, now that I am almost done, I help my younger friends navigate things like picking a committee, preparing for quals, etc. My friends and I, of all years, also can share school-specific resources or help each other out because if one of us needs to know about X, another one might know someone who knows a lot about X.
2. If there's something difficult going on in your life at some point, your grad school friends can help you out. Maybe they can take notes for you in class. They can make sure you're not falling too far behind. They might be able to submit homework/paperwork on your behalf or do random things that you might not be able to be physically present for. And of course, they can still do all of the other stuff that friends do for each other, this is mostly a list of reasons why friends in your department can be helpful that non grad school friends might not be able to do.
3. Friends in grad school (whether it's your department or another school) can relate to your grad school experiences more directly and sometimes it's easier to talk to other students about difficult situations involving grad school. Friends outside of grad school are also great though, as they help put things in perspective.
4. Finally, if you want to continue in academia, your cohort and other grad students will eventually be your future colleagues. At least in my field, they will be the ones reviewing your papers, your grants, deciding who gets invited to conferences etc. They will also be your future collaborators, potentially. A lot of people think about networking only in the context of going to conferences and meeting people, but you can build some of the strongest networks within your own department because you have way more time/chances to create a strong relationship. And your colleagues are also going to go on and do great things and meet more people and they can be the link to someone you need later on in your academic life. This is more related to the second reason why I think these websites suggest you make friends to succeed in grad school (and beyond). 
That said, I also don't really think it's necessary to go bar hopping and to do all of the partying stuff in order to make friends in grad school. Sure, depending on your department's culture, it might be a really good way to do it, but it's not the only way to do it. Friendships take time to build and I actually spend most of the time building friendships during the work day and on campus. You don't have to be uncomfortable in a bar if you don't like it, and you'll find people that share your feeling too, in grad school. It's not like everyone thinks that going to bars is the only way to socialize. Some of my best friends in grad school don't drink at all, or very rarely.
I do think that spending time with your friends outside of work, i.e. when you both choose to invest your personal time into the relationship, is an important part of creating stronger connections though. For me, I do go to an occasional party, play on intramural teams with my friends, participate or plan in fun outings once in awhile on the weekends (e.g. Disneyland one year). There's lots to do that doesn't revolve around drinking, bars, partying etc. I personally take the strategy of saying yes to everything at first, meeting everyone, and then being a little more selective and choosing to spend more of my personal time with people I click with better.
And also as @AP pointed out, you don't necessarily have to make friends with only your cohort. You might click/have more chemistry with some of the older students, or the more mature younger students!

As a 26 year old married to a 37 year old, I'd probably say you could be a bit more open-minded. Not all 20 somethings are straight out of college. You might find it difficult to connect to someone whose life thus far has included going to high school and then straight into the US college system (which, to an Australian who spent a semester at a US college in 2010, seems very much like a continuation of high school). But that's not going to be every single person in your cohort. I guess these are the types of things you can't really know until you're there.

Computing depends a lot on what you do. For my work that is heavily computational (or graphics intensive), I don't even try to use a laptop. I have a desktop in my office for that (two, actually, one mac and one PC). 
For a laptop, I wanted something light and easily portable, so I went for a Macbook Air as well. Got it in 2010, and it's still running fine for me today. May think about upgrading it this year or next, but not in a hurry. 
That said, I strongly recommend waiting to get a computer until you know exactly what you'll need for graduate school. Having the same OS choice as your PI (if in STEM) can help a ton, as programs will be the same. I had a nightmare when I started (back in the dark ages) when I was using a PC and my advisor was using a Mac. Word files didn't directly transfer perfectly, and some of our manuscripts would completely reformat going between us, to immense frustration. 
Once you start grad school, you'll know what's available (in terms of software) and you can ask people in your program for recommendations that work with the school infrastructure well. 

I second the suggestions about seeking some professional help. I speak as someone who developed a language problem as an adult (neurological, acquired) and basically went from being an award-winning orator to struggling with speaking. Most days you won't be able to tell I have a problem, but some days, I struggle with finding simple words like "bird." I might come into the room and name everything that flies except "bird" (flies, geese, aeroplane, bats).
But like everyone says, this is academia. If you accept the "job" of being an academic, even if temporarily as a graduate student with no intention of being going further beyond your PhD, then you accept the mores of academia. So, temporarily, you accept this. Even for students with disabilities (like me!), standards are not lowered. We have to show we can meet the essential requirement that everybody else meets, with accommodation. What this means is sometimes, if I say, bat instead of bird, and I tell my professor that is not what I mean and ask for a second to find the word I want, they understand. But for them to understand, a conversation needs to take place (preferably with the disability office helping).
I'm sorry this is an ordeal for you.
It is an ordeal for me, too. But I gotta do it anyway. Unfortunately, so do you.
You can do this. I know you can.

I'll say I agree with everything Fuzzy said (and especially echo that taking jabs at other fields is not kosher), but I also want to take a bit of time to dig into the "not everyone has the same skills" line of thought. 
While not everyone has the same strengths, there are some skills that are integral to doing a job, or getting a degree. To me, oral and written communication are at the top of the list in STEM fields. As an adviser of mine once said, it doesn't matter what you know, or how groundbreaking your work is if you can't communicate it.
You are tearing into other people's writing skills (something you're good at and they struggle with) and saying how important writing is, but then turning around and saying that just because you don't see the importance in oral presentation skills, it must not be important. Would you be as willing to say that someone who couldn't write, even passably, shouldn't have to write a dissertation if doing so caused them high levels of stress and anxiety?
i understand you a frustrated, and at to the process is getting to you. That doesn't mean it's OK to lash out, and it doesn't mean it's good to say "what I'm good at is hats important, and I shouldn't have to do the rest". 

Well. I'll ignore the "maybe linguistics and history aren't as rigorous as the science I am studying" bit and other not so subtle jabs at me. I'll also not spend time writing a long post about presentation skills and their usefulness in areas outside academia. I'll say this: if you've had this problem for over a decade, then this is something you could and should have planned for. I assume this exam isn't some secret they only let you in on after you've joined your program -- it's probably on the department's webpage and you could have known about it. The fact that you didn't plan for it is not anyone else's fault. Now the question is what you are going to do about it. If the entire point of this thread is to blow off steam, you're doing a good job. But if you want to actually get advice, that means being open to opinions other than your own. So here's mine: have you had a conversation with your committee about alternative ways of satisfying the requirement? Have you had a chat with the office of disabilities? Have you taken any action at all to try to fix the situation? There very well might be people who want to help you, but you need to ask for help, and you need to make a good faith effort to find alternatives, if you want to be able to move forward. You might also want to refrain from assuming you can know what experiences people have had, where they come from, or what they can relate to, if you know nothing about them. 

Well, "stage fright" and even "serious stage fright" do not adequately define this. Not that the things you describe aren't important, but they're mostly applicable to academics, which I do not want to stay in. And, the consequences of not being great in the situations you describe are not life altering, besides giving a job talk maybe, and I have zero intention of applying to jobs where a job talk would be relevant. It's a blip and people move on. This is not, it is life altering, and I am not overreacting. Without this one portion of an exam, I not only am forced to leave my program, but I will also lose my NSF funding.
To be forced to do something that creates such a degree of distress in another person is just cruel. And I think to imply otherwise is ignorant and insensitive. Again, everyone has their strengths and programs should be building those, not making you feel like shit about yourself because you aren't exactly as they want you to be. And unless you have actually experienced this degree of distress in a similar situation, you cannot relate to it and have no right to tell me it's not that big of a deal.
And maybe the field of linguistics and history is different but there is no way that several weeks to prepare is enough to know everything about even one field, much less multiple. In fact, most people can't speak about the specifics of even their own field because science has broadened so much into hundreds of sub-disciplines.
And what I'm trying to convey is that this isn't something that someone can "just get through" or "learn to deal with." If I could just suck it up and make it happen, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. I've been working on this problem for 10 years now and it's not getting better.

It does feel like an over-reaction. I think you may be both blowing this out of proportion and under- or misestimating the importance of being able to present yourself orally in a variety of occasions. Writing ability is important, but if you can't sell your ideas in person as well, you'll suffer as an academic. If you give an atrocious job talk or you aren't able to answer questions from left field (and some people specialize at asking those at job talks!), you'll have a hard time getting a job. Students might ask you any question out of the blue, whether or not it's actually related to what you are talking about. And similarly at conferences you might be able to prepare for the talk, but it's very hard to prepare for the question period. You can't panic and run off-stage every time someone asks you something you weren't prepared for. (And here, in fact, you've gotten several weeks precisely in order to prepare!) That aside giving engaging talks is a good way of getting yourself and your ideas out there, or getting invited to conferences and to give talks, and the conversations of the kind you have when not on stage are important for building connections. Those are sometimes as important, if not more, than the actual ideas you're trying to sell, and you can't control the direction they go in.* I'm sure you've noticed that success only has some correlation with good ideas. (As in, you can have good ideas and not be as successful, or not as good ideas but really good inter-personal skills, and be quite successful). So, I think this is a more useful skill than you might be giving it credit for. 
That aside, given that there are people around who agree that the current form of the qualifying exam might not be ideal, maybe there is a way to work something out where it's manageable for you but also meets the department's requirements. You'd need to work this out on an individual basis with your committee; I'm sure you're not the first person to deal with serious stage fright. That said, I would advise you not to do or say anything drastic until after you've calmed down, because right now it sounds like you're over-reacting. If you have a supportive advisor and committee, they should be willing to help you through this milestone in your program and move on to the next steps, especially if you're otherwise successful and could have a successful career in your field. Try to figure this out with them before you do anything quite as drastic as taking your grant and walking away. 
 
* For example, I've been asked on some interview what I think were the most important 3 inventions of the 20th century and why. Another person once asked what book I'd take with me to a deserted island. More than once someone asked some version of "young/old man/woman/person I admire in [my field/other field/science]", what paper I read recently that made me change my mind about my research (and what specifically it was), the most impactful paper/presentation of the year, and other things that caught me off guard. Those are just a few example. I doubt the specific answers mattered, but my reaction did. And then of course random people will ask about hobbies, books you've read recently, your favorite foods, recent travels, and any other thing that pops into their heads. Unless you plan to pre-rehearse every possible conversation you might have with other academics, you need to learn to deal with unexpected situations, including high-stakes ones. 

Honestly, what you need is to work with your advisor and students in your department. They're the ones who will know the most about the preferred/ideal format for a poster in your field.

What did you tell the students you would do with their complaints? Unless *they* understood the issue to have been resolved right there, I think it's your obligation to let the professor know. You should probably also let the other TA know that there were some complaints, and you felt that you had to let the prof know. In the future, if you think fast enough on your feet, the best thing to have done would have been to tell the students to take the complaint directly to the professor and leave you out of it; nothing good can come of this for you (generally, you don't complain about an employee's performance to a peer, you go to a manager). But yes, from your description that sounds like distracting behavior. None of those in isolation is too bad, but if combined and done to an extreme, some students might be negatively affected -- though it'll be impossible to quantify how much.