ie.impensive

Just peeking my head out from behind my curtain in the corner to drop a couple of words in, which folks may or may not find helpful – as someone who’s been in academia for a while now, and graduate school for most of it, it’s important to remember that most departments in college/university are run in a state of chaos – no matter how organized they present themselves on the face of it. For the most part, academics and artists are necessarily independent workers, and few of them are good at meeting deadlines themselves – even though they’ll insist everyone around them to do as they say – and not as they do. So, it’s worth remembering that prodding them for info isn’t bad form – it’s sometimes necessary to shake-loose information that you are due, but is caught in a backlog of poor-organization. (Along the same lines, if you run into some snippy, administrative person on the other end – it’s more likely they’re feeling harassed by peers, rather than yourself. This is not to excuse their bad behaviour – they should absolutely know better – but don’t take it as a reflection on your own, reasonable conduct.) On a separate note – I know most of the folk posting here are going through the unforgiving wringer that is applying to full-time programs with potential funding attached – which is a heart-wrenching, awful process you should all be extremely proud of taking on, no matter the outcome – but if there are any other lurkers out there waiting to hear back from low-residency programs for the upcoming term, I know for certain that Stonecoast started making calls last week, and Bennington only started contacting people over the past couple of days. If anyone is headed to Vermont in June, I’ll hope to see you there!

I'd like to weigh in on this—as there are a number of things I wish someone had said to me when I first started putting myself through the process of agony and ecstasy that is graduate applications: Where it comes to assessing your sense of self-worth—especially when taken within a creative context—be kind to yourself. I’ve been lurking and reading through this board's discussions over the past few weeks, and I can say with absolute confidence you're all talented, dedicated, and generous people—and should be proud of the risk you’re taking, just by putting yourselves out-there. It’s hard to communicate how valuable it is to tackle the prospect of major change—even more-so when the stakes can feel so high—and especially when you’re aiming to achieve something you truly care about. Making that move is an immense accomplishment, on its own, and many people don’t have the guts to attempt it. I know it’s essentially impossible it is to avoid measuring yourself against the yardstick of the other people's success—but you’ll drive yourself crazy. Holding your personal trajectory through life to that of anyone who exists in the public eye—or idols in cultural memory, or strangers who encapsulate the apex of a dream—is an exercise in anxiety, and it privileges unreasonable expectations that boils down to giving credence to false-equivalencies. Your own life experience cannot find objective measure against standards set by the lives of others; nor should it. You’ll find yourself hollowed out by an existential anguish, and do yourself a great disservice in the process. There is no right way to find success and accomplish amazing things, and that won’t mean the same thing to everyone. It took me far too long to realize that change doesn’t come without risk; but even longer to realize that what makes my life exceptional has nothing to do with my colleague, who’s high-profile accomplishments came early—though I truly loathed how much I envied him for the longest time. The realization finally set in a couple of years ago when I accepted that I simply couldn’t have reproduced what or how he got where he is. My life has been characterized by a monumental series of improbable complications and unexpected barriers, but I wouldn’t be half-way proud of where I’ve come to in life if I hadn’t swallowed a great deal of self-doubt, and just took on what seemed to be the hardest path in the world. (I have also realized that I’m not that fond of my colleague's writing; or his work; and that most people we both associate with aren't fond of him at all.) So, success comes in different forms. Ultimately, I suppose my point is that in making the effort, risking rejection, etc., you’re building toward a kind of change will alter how you see your own life—and likely contribute to how you gauge your own accomplishments. This all sounds quite saccharine and platitude-y, but there’s only so many ways you can go about making your own life into something that you’re proud of. That doesn’t mean the same thing to everyone, by nature, and you can also be sure that it will change as you move forward in life. I think you’re all doing an amazing job of representing yourselves honestly, and that you have a tremendous amount to be proud of already.

Speaking as someone who returned to university as an undergrad at 32; applied to graduate school closer to 40; and have now taught undergraduates myself as a fresh instructor, well into my 40s; mature students are not at a disadvantage when applying to programs at any level. If anything, most schools will give them closer consideration. It’s important to remember that every program, regardless of the discipline, is looking for dedicated candidates who they feel are likely to thrive and complete their degree successfully. That’s the bias the rules a review committee, and not an ageist attitude. Mature students bring a level of dedication that younger candidates can lack, or will fall out of with a rapid change in circumstances. Without fail, every mature student I have been to school with, as well as taught, are present, motivated, and determined to get the most out of their education experience — simply because they are absolutely sure they want to be there. It’s not an easy thing to step into — or return to — higher education as a more mature adult. I can say from experience that it’s easy, and normal, to feel conspicuous during early days, each school year; but professors and instructors love having someone who is motivated to participate, and bring different levels of perspective into classroom — especially in more communicative disciplines. I would never try to dissuade anyone from applying to go back to school, and pursue something they’re passionate about, later in life — if a review committee sees your potential, the school will be happy to have you.