Category Archives: Uncategorized

Guest Post: Black Boi Does Grad School—A Couple of Tips for Navigating the Bullshit

When I started my PhD program last fall, my biggest fear was the academic work. I wondered if I would be able to keep up with the other students; imposter syndrome gripped my anxious mind as I rehearsed all of the disastrous moments that were sure to ensue: I would forget a major deadline, fail all of my classes, sound like an idiot whenever I tried to voice my opinions, and ultimately, bring great shame to all of my friends and family who were so confident that I was well on my way to becoming Dr. Smoot. Much to my relief, as I slide into the finish line of my first year of doctoral education, I can confidently say that my initial worries were unfounded. While my work has been by no means easy, it has certainly been manageable. I am brilliant, and slowly beginning to own this as my truth, in spite of copious external forces that try to wrestle this fact from my hands. What has been the most challenging, however, is navigating all of the unspoken politics and quotidian instances of systemic violence that are intrinsic to navigating graduate education as a Black, queer, trans masculine scholar.

From recognizing that my voice has been tokenized in a number of spaces—wherein my actual opinions were completely devalued—to having classmates openly espousing deeply hurtful and problematic rhetoric aimed at multiple of my identities, this past academic year has been fraught with realizations regarding my emotional resilience, as well as the innumerable challenges of graduate education at a PWI. To be clear, I love the work that I am producing—as dorky as it sounds, I can feel myself getting smarter, and sometimes I re-read my papers and think “damn! I wrote this?! I’m lit!” But sometimes I sit in my apartment and cry, wondering if I am right for academia, or if academia is right for me. Thankfully I have managed to make a few, very kind, very supportive friend-peers who regularly reassure me that I am valued, in spite of the moments in which this process makes me feel worthless. That said, below are a couple of things that I’ve learned, all of which I would have liked to know before starting this degree. Hopefully sharing them here will help someone else as they begin their doctoral program journey.

Visit the school/department before you accept admission.

I cannot stress this enough. A PhD program is a marathon, not a sprint. When I did my masters, I was relatively unconcerned about what my long-term future would look like in the city where the school was because I was fairly confident that I would not have a long term future there. However, my PhD was a different story. I figured, having lived in more than a couple of college towns, that I would have a pretty good idea regarding what life would be like here—without taking the time to visit. I was…incorrect. And in transparency, that decision has definitely been one that I’ve thought about often, and wondered if I would make again if given the chance to go back. The answer is, honestly, I don’t know. I am here now, and committed to staying present and enjoying all of the positive things that this experience has to offer me. But, one thing that I know that I would do, if given a do-over, is visit. That way, if I did make the same choice, I would have a very clear understanding of the life that I was signing up for—at least for the next several years.

People are important, but not everyone should be a close friend. Build community, but prioritize good energies; quality is better than quantity. 

This, I believe, is paramount to one’s social success and mental health in grad school. I came into this program assuming that I would quickly make friends, many of whom I would become very close with, based on my assumption that we would have shared interests and/or world views. This was…not the case. My first few months here were lonely as hell. Fortunately for me, I have a large network of good friends and family scattered around the country, so I struggled through that time with copious teary-eyed phone calls to my folx. I did ultimately end up connecting with some people from school, but if I’m being honest, I have yet to develop what I would consider to be a very close friendship. And I’ve come to realize that this is okay. Actually, it’s ideal. The people with whom I get along are great, but I am able to prioritize study/alone time, and see them when I need social time. Plus, having spent almost a full year here, I have come to effectively identify the people that I enjoy, and have identified the people that I enjoy…less. And that might not have happened if we had all latched onto each other from jump, purely motivated by loneliness. Loneliness is okay. It will pass, but surrounding yourself with kind, affirming people takes time. Don’t rush the process!

Advocate for yourself. Be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. 

This one is hard. Well, harder. Being a graduate student renders one extremely vulnerable. To the powers that reign supreme over your academic/financial fate and trajectory, to your peers, to many sorts of illnesses, and to your own insecurities. There are many instances in which you will be forced to make very difficult decisions: study vs sleep, work outand eat healthy vs eat affordably and take leisure time, stay silent and stew in heartache vs speak up and face the consequences, stay because of all the work you’ve put in to get here vs leave because you are being dehumanized. The choices are endless, and unlike my examples, most of them are not binary in nature—they are nuanced and murky and scary and hurtful. Being vulnerable all of the time is exhausting. But ultimately, I am of the belief that no degree is worth literally destroying yourself for. As long as it remains feasible (and conscionable) carry on, but care for yourself. Sometimes, pick the gym over that hour of Netflix; sometimes pick the Netflix. Make that dentist appointment if you get health insurance through your institution. Maybe decide not to curse out that person in your class that said that heinously racist thing, and instead call a friend from back home to vent. Get some rest—that paper is not going to be A1 if you write it at 4am after staying up for the prior 36 hours. Also, realize that faculty and administrators aren’t gods, they are people just like you. And while you owe them respect, they don’t have the right to bulldoze your emotions or abuse you. Draw that line of distinction for yourself, and if it’s crossed…check them. Again, a degree is not worth your total degradation.

You can’t read everything. It’s literally not possible, unless you don’t enjoy human-ing. 

Get the main ideas, and craft some interesting discussion questions for class. Skimming is not only helpful, but it’s a necessary skill. You have to be able to read something, synthesize information, and make new meanings from it, quickly. That’s literally what this is about. Welcome to Skimming Bootcamp, y’all!

You don’t need to put your life on hold for 4-7 years; this is your life. Here. Now. Enjoy it. 

This past week my niece was born…6 hours away from me. Next week I will be driving those 6 hours to meet her—during finals week. Amidst final papers. Why? Because I value my chosen family, and they are just as (if not more) important to me as finishing this semester with relative ease. I know I can do both, so I will. In the short time that I have been in grad school, I have traveled much, gone to parties, hosted parties, photographed my best friend’s engagement (also 6 hours away), attended 2 funerals, and managed to get my hair done once a month like clockwork. Because I am a whole person, not just a student. And life is still happening around me. I refuse to be that person who denies myself fulfillment and close relationships with the people I love the most in the name of prioritizing school. All of my life is important to me, not just the portion of it that is in front of me on a daily basis. Showing up my best self to this process means showing up whole.

Ultimately, though, you will determine what works best for you. No one’s experience needs to be the blueprint for your graduate school experience. Take what you need and leave the rest.


Kelsey Smoot is a queer, non-binary writer. They consider themselves to be bicoastal but culturally southern, a master at crafting hypothetical questions, and really damn cool. They are currently working on their PhD in the interdisciplinary social sciences and humanities.

Week 14, or Dealing with the Urge to Quit

I have been struggling with whether or not to write this post the entire semester. I pride myself on writing blog posts that have a positive tone because I recognize how difficult graduate school is without added negativity. But the fact of the matter is, sometimes you stew in the negativity and you can’t help yourself.

That’s where I was for much of this semester. I wanted to quit. I wanted to take my Master’s degree and find a job in publishing or editing. I avoided doing my readings and spent my time job hunting, googling What kind of job can you get with a Masters in American Studies? My parents didn’t take me seriously, but I spent much of January waiting for my Master’s degree to be conferred so that I could leave with it on my transcript. I hated talking about school, I was second guessing everything that came out of my mouth in class, and I was so tired of it all that I even told my advisor that I was considering walking away. I couldn’t fix my mind to write and I wasn’t retaining anything I was reading– it all slipped through my mind like water through fingers.

I managed to pull myself out of that funk, but not before I had scared my parents, my advisors and my friends. I wish I could say that love convinced me to keep going, but nothing anyone said made any difference. It lasted so long and I became so brittle that my friends in my program felt like they were walking on eggshells around me.

What did help was a project. I can’t say much about it because I don’t want to scoop myself, but thanks to a little help from a colleague, an amazing academic project fell right into my lap. It was perfect, a little black studies, a little comic studies and a little literature, all in one. I enjoyed the pursuit of the story, getting to meet people, getting to write about something I truly cared about. I wanted the story to be good because this was something that was bigger than me. I suddenly found myself rewriting history.

What did help was a community of Black graduate students also blogging/writing/podcasting about their graduate school experiences. The creator of the podcast “Blk + In Grad School,” Allante Whitmore, wrote a post featuring about 40 resources people of color had created for other POC in graduate school. While the post was amazing, what really helped was that she then invited all the creators that she had featured to join a GroupMe together. Through this community, we have been helping each other build our respective empires by lifting as we climb. Black Girl Does Grad School was no longer an island, but one of many sites working to aid women of color in their journey through the Academy. It made me want to redouble my efforts because working with this coalition made me feel like I was no longer shouting into the void.

What did help was time. Sometimes, you just fall into a funk and the only thing you can do is wait it out. I’ve written about how I journal, get organized and meal prep to make myself feel better, but occasionally, it just isn’t enough. If you discover that what you need is time, I hope that you have friends and family who are patient enough to weather the storm with you and they will continuously remind you that this, too, shall pass. And if you don’t find that support, be your own support system. Be gentle with yourself. Be firm about what you need to feel better. And be kind to yourself and others.

In order to get through this process, you really need to know how to prioritize yourself. It is mentally taxing, overwhelming and enormously lonely. I pulled myself out of my funk by first recognizing that I was in one, then taking the necessary measures to take care of myself, but I mostly gave myself time. I was unusually patient with myself, even when others weren’t with me.

I wrote this post because I owe to myself. This isn’t the first time that I’ve wanted to quit and it won’t be the last. I owe it to myself to acknowledge my discontent and to also acknowledge what helped to gently move me back to solid ground. I owe it to myself to write about how I sustain myself during this marathon when it feels like I’m running on fumes. Everybody has these moments, but what matters is how you pick yourself back up and keep running the race.

Take 1: NYU Bound

You’d think after two years of pure hype anticipation for FINALLY being qualified to write for this blog I’d know how to introduce myself. But I don’t. My name’s Micah… I like making playlists. I make films and wear space buns. I love Cheerwine and I write plays. I’m about to graduate from UVA and you can’t convince me that Jesus was not Black. But, most recently, I’M A BLACK GIRL [ABOUT TO DO] GRAD SCHOOL!

The past six weeks have felt, in a word, brazy. I’ve gotten recognized three times by the Kennedy Center and accepted to three graduate programs of my dreams, all while making two films and staging a play. I also got baptized again—I’m especially happy about that. Everything has felt so incredibly surreal. I mean, literally. I walk around UVA’s grounds and people want to congratulate and interview me and I always feel like they’re looking for the wrong person. Like my communities have crafted me in their minds as some artistic prodigy. Sure, that sounds great (and tbh this entire paragraph is obnoxious), but it feels really bananas when I’m focusing on making sure I sleep and editing scripts and trying not to fall in love with Jonathan McReynolds. So I don’t really know who it is that everyone is asking for a quote from, but I’ve just been eating my pb&j and grinding. The present is all that’s felt real to me.

But today I feel infinite. And exhausted.

So why now?

One—because I’ve been promising Ravynn I would write something before I even put the words grad and school together.  Two—because I actually verbalized the phrase “I’m going to NYU.” this week. Three—because this is the first time that I’ve been excited about the future. I mean really excited. I’m not saying that I’ve been dreading the future, or that I’ve even had low expectations for myself (I mean, have y’all even met my God yet!?). But until this week everything has been so abstract. It’s been me trying to articulate myself into a statement of purpose. Or wiping spit from my ear after some nice church lady tells me that “God’s got plenty of plans for you.” Or my collaborators telling me that they’re gonna ride my coattails (stop it y’all! We’re in this grind TOGETHER.) But throughout this entire process, the future felt sometimes achievable, but never tangible.

Speaking of this process, let me run that back for y’all real quick:

In a very distant way, grad school has always been a part of the plan. Not as something that I necessarily wanted to do, but as another box on the “Twice As Good Checklist.” I didn’t really want it for myself until my second year of undergrad (l said “undergrad;” Am I a grownup now?) when I watched Ravynn and Kelsey go through their application processes during The Black Monologues. I wanted to love my work so much that I had to pursue it. That’s been reinforced by my hourly conversations with Ravynn about Blackness, literature, art, superheroes, film, afrofuturism, Buzzfeed quizzes. We’ve become so intellectually hungry together. I’ve gotten to a point where I have to satiate that desire. Add on to that my cohort/squad/family of Black artists at UVA that make me want to continue working with collaborators.

So I decided to apply to MFA programs in screenwriting and/or playwriting. The process didn’t go as smoothly as I would have hoped. Against the wishes of my brilliant mother/life advisor/future agent, I procrastinated attacking these applications until eh, say, October? Mind you, my first app was due November 1st. I figured that I’d already written the [copious] play and screenplay samples and could write a personal statement in my sleep, right? Wrong. I didn’t realize that this process would require so much of me. Not only were the apps more involved than anticipated (@Common App, I miss you, babe), but they also required me to bare my soul in a way that I wasn’t prepared for. I had to be able to tell the world in 500 words who I was and who I wanted to be. I don’t even think I’d even worked that out with God at that moment.

But I did it. And waited. And prayed. And fasted.

Then my acceptances came in and my life started to feel like the season finale of Grown-ish. All three programs had incredible things to offer. Honestly, I would have been happy attending any one of them. But there was one place that just felt…right. It’s the place that God had been showing me in prayer, the place in which my community envisioned me, and the place that I just haven’t been able to get out of my head. It’s the place that both scares and excites me the most. So just so we all know what I’m talking about: next fall, I will begin pursuing my MFA in Dramatic Writing at New York University Tisch School of the Arts…and it just got real…

As I write this, I am in the middle of the national Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival with a bunch of uber talented MFA and undergrad students. I think I’ll mark this as my first grad school experience. I’ve been learning from masters, watching and listening to truly incredible and (bonus word) diverse plays, and meeting some the dopest theatre artists I’ve ever encountered. Actually, the meeting folks part is what’s surprising me the most. You’ll learn that networking and being social is really, really difficult for me. It’s not that I don’t like people; it’s not that I’m quiet. It’s that I never quite believe that people will genuinely care about what I have to say. I’ve seen God growing me this week. As I share my ideas and sustain conversations with strangers with whom I want to collaborate and champion, I feel like I’m having an out of body experience. I feel like I’m getting a glimpse of what God’s been seeing all along.

I’m so excited to get my hands dirty and to write like a madwoman, only to have my words get ripped to shreds. Then build them back up again, love them, and repeat. Sure, maybe I’m being idealistic. Lord knows grad school isn’t going to be chocolate and roses everyday. But, even for just a short while, I’m excited for the work. I think I owe myself this moment.

I feel infinite. And exhausted. And confused, and excited, and scared, and limitless, and full, and unprepared, and regal, and infantile, and hungry, and bubbly, and humble, and hype, and reverent.

And hopeful…

P.S.

Actually, making playlists is the first thing I do when I have an idea for a play or film. So let’s think of this post as one of those, yeah?

  1. Diddy Bop x Noname
  2. All The Time x Swoope
  3. Lover of My Soul x Jonathan McReynolds
  4. Weight of the World x John Bellion
  5. All The Stars x Kendrick
  6. Follow You x Christon Gray
  7. DNA x Kendrick
  8. I Got You x Chris Howland

 


Micah Ariel Watson is a filmmaker and playwright. After graduating with a degree in Drama and African-American Studies at the University of Virginia, she will be attending NYU as an MFA student in Dramatic Writing. Her work focuses on the ways in which historical and contemporary events mirror one another, often employing poetry and hip-hop to tell Black stories. The only thing that she loves more than art and Black people is Jesus “Real One” Christ. Twitter: @micah_ariel11