Dr. Abigail Leigh Phillips

Category: phdlife

  • “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch”: An Accidental Unwinding

    A Response to College and Research Libraries (C&RL) New’s latest post, “Librarians and Degree Seeking: The “Paper Ceiling” and Advancement in Academic Libraries”, a conversation between Nancy Shore, Kristina Clement, and Katherine Rose Adams

    During my last session, my therapist suggested I write a response, my own little Op-Ed, to the conversation circulated earlier this month. Not necessarily to publish or share with anyone. Writing is one (of the few ways) that significantly helps me process, reflect, and attempt to understand emotions, accounts, triggers, and encounters I struggle to verbalize. My therapist felt this practice may help me work through my intensely trauma response to the “Librarians and Degree Seeking” post which I read the morning of June 10th.

    A link to this post dropped into my Outlook while I sat in my very college town feel coffee shop and edited my summer course. I made it through the first exchange between the three authors. I could not keep reading. I felt numb, and, then quickly, I dissociated. Fully plunged back into experiences from my doctoral program. I spent my therapy session (thankfully) the next day unpacking how I relived my doctoral years so vividly and excruciatingly – all through that Monday, into the sleepless night, and bursting into Tuesday’s session. I did not (still do not) understand what these academics could discuss so brightly, enthusiastically, and almost flippantly what, in so many ways, shattered me.

    My doctoral experience appears distinctly different from those of the authors. I pursued a PhD because of the focus on deep research, writing, my need to feel as though I am contributing to something, and the lifelong pressing expectation for me to excel. I only worked in academic libraries, briefly, as an intern during my MLIS program. I had no interest (still have no interest at all) in ‘climbing the ladder’, becoming a dean, taking on any fully administrative position. Those roles would only take me away from the research, writing, and teaching thrive on. I am going up for tenure this fall, but even with that I took a year extension due my lengthy recovery from COVID.

    My actual degree, the nitty-gritties of my PhD program, and my relationship with doctoral life sharply differ from the EdD, asynchronous program the authors worked through. I left public librarianship to become a full time, funded PhD student in an information school at a large university from August 2012 until April 2016. I relocated to be near the university. I worked 20+ hours weekly for my teaching assistant, then a research assistantship, and, finally, lead instructor stipend. I spent my first two years of the program taking in-person seminar courses. I read and discussed and learned and engaged in research with faculty and independently. A very traditional PhD route. Not accessible to everyone. My lack of a partner or kids. My supportive family, the financial support through my doctoral program (Well. For the most part.) are privileges I fully recognize. I am often asked (not sure why) if I would do the PhD program over again. My answer is the same as when I graduated in 2016. A long pause, weighty inhale and exhale, and “I don’t know.”

    There are a number of specific quotes from the authors that did not anger me as much undid what had, while not exactly healed, been decently processed. I will highlight a few to shake them from my own rumination. Or attempt to do so.

    “I knew graduate school at this level would be a lot of work, but I didn’t want doctoral studies to take up all my time.” ~ Nancy Shore

    The author. Art Institute of Chicago. Mid-PhD program.

    The doctoral program became my entire life. Academia and our mentors, not just the doctoral program, encouraged us to never stop working. I wrote and graded and read and took notes and coded nights, weekends, and holidays. Switching work off felt like a failure. If you aren’t working, thinking about work, or explaining apologetically what has taken you away from work, shouldn’t you be? I identified as a doctoral student, a doctoral candidate, and, eventually, an official Doctor, wearing regalia and freshly hooded at graduation that sweltering spring in 2016. A post-doctoral and tenure-track faculty position later yet I cannot stop the impulse to fill every hour of the waking day with a task that will get me closer to something. A grant proposal, an almost finished manuscript, a service opportunity that will look good as a line on my CV, whatever will show that I am worth something to an institution that does not feel or care or remember you.

    “My theory is that if you’re going to get a “free” degree, it might as well be a big one!” ~ Nancy Shore

    I’m a blue collar, trailer park, scrappy kid from Southwest Georgia. The quote, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.”, is very familiar to me. It’s almost laughable to think otherwise. You will pay in one way or the other. Maybe those from middle class and upper middle-class backgrounds believe in “free”, but I know better. I exchanged my sanity, any sense of self-worth I once possessed, and my physical health for my PhD. I reverted to unhealthy habits I learned as an undergrad to feel some ounce of control amidst the constant criticism, ableism, classism, sexual harassment, victim blaming, self-loathing, and fear. I graduated from the program numb, broken, and so very, very bitter. I gave everything I could. I received that fucking piece of paper in the mail, and I still felt like a failure. It is still in that envelope, next to other paperwork in my hallway closet.

    “Wait . . . maybe we should end our discussion here as I do not want to create any more competition!”~ Katherine Rose Adams

    Create any more competition? The competition is always present. I wrote about it in this very column last September with a former MLIS student and dear friend. I am not a competitive person, but the system will push you to engage in a battle for funding, recognition, tenure, or, the ever so rare, praise. Who you are competing against does not matter as much as how much you push yourself. You compete with yourself, other doctoral students, colleagues, others in your area of expertise, et al. Give me a minute, and I can spot competition, perhaps slyly concealed as a collegial discussion or constructive ‘feedback’.

    This is not intended to be combative, critical, or dismissive. This is just for me. To get out of my head and feel real. Somehow I felt that my doctoral program experience was discounted. Was it all in my head? Despite conducted research with LIS PhD students on their experiences (bleak), and all the (anecdotal) conversations I’ve had over the years with dear friends who shared similar experiences at other institutions. Still, I questioned myself and judged my sense of reality, even in my therapy session, “Did all that actually happen to me? Why does this post dig into me so uniquely and excruciatingly?”. Again, I don’t know. But I keep trying to find a new way through the wreckage.

    Abigail L. Phillips, MLIS, SLIS, PhD

    Shore, N., Clement, K., & Adams, K. (June 2024). Librarians and degree seeking: The “Paper Ceiling” and advancement in academic libraries. College & Research Libraries News, 85(6), 263. doi:https://doi.org/10.5860/crln.85.6.263

    The saying, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch”, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.”, or the initialism TANSTAAFL is attributed to Robert A. Heinlein’s sci-fi novel “The Moon is a Harsh Mistress“. I read that book in high school, but I remember hearing this quote randomly, outside of reading. It has been used by others including economists. Naturally. TIL.

  • When the narrator becomes confused because change is necessary yet intensely hard.

    I recently moved from Logan, Utah to Milwaukee for a faculty position at the University of Wisconsin (wait for it) Milwaukee. The nature of academia means you move where the job takes you. I’m pleased that it took me to a new part of the country and a new work environment with supportive and welcoming faculty and staff. The goal for many leaving a doctoral program or post doc (as I did) is a tenured track faculty position. A challenge to achieve that (honestly) I try to share with doc students or those considering entering a doctoral program. During your last year of a doc program or post doc, you apply, apply, apply, interview, interview, wait (for what seems like an excruciating amount of time), and maybe have an on-campus interview and (possibly) get something. There’s so many of us searching for these idealized tenure track positions while there are so few of actual positions to go around. I am where I am now for a number of reasons (hard work, mentorship, networking, a great post doc). Some that I may not even know about. I am happy where I am. But the transitional period from post doc to faculty and from Utah to Wisconsin has been much harder that I expected.

    (more…)

  • Thank you for explaining research to me.

    We’re going to go back to ALA Annual 2017 for this post, but in an entirely different way my last two (see Part 1 & Part 2). In this post, I’m dealing with an experience that happened before Annual officially began. Apparently, it helped set the tone for the rest of the conference.

    A bit of backstory. Right now I’m collaborating with a colleague, Dr. Laura-Edythe Coleman, on a study about how librarians and museum professionals understand and perform empathy in their everyday work. My colleague (and close friend) was also in town for Annual and wanted me to meet some important museum people from the Chicago area. She mentioned a Twitter hashtag that helps bring together museum-minded individuals during different conferences for drinks, socializing, and shop talk. There had been an informal gathering set up via the hashtag for that Thursday and wanted me to attend. Okay. Makes sense. I like museums. It would be a good idea to meet more professionals in an unfamiliar world to me. Especially since I’ll be interacting with participants from museums as part of our research.

    Already stressed, sleep-deprived, and overwhelmed, I was not in the best headspace for high pressure social interactions. I never imagined that this social would be so intense, but it definitely turned out to be exactly that. I arrived at the designated bar with some half-hearted excitement to meet non-librarians before an (almost) all librarian conference. A small group of the museum people and my friend were there, already into drinks and appetizers. After brief introductions, I began to feel anxious and slightly paranoid. Most of the time my anxiety and paranoia isn’t justified, but in the case I believe it was.

    I immediately felt on the defense. I sensed a general disinterest in me and a patronizing attitude towards my librarian status. This mainly came from three men at the table. My attempts at common “getting to know you” conversation starters failed miserably. I tried asking about where people work, what they like to do in Chicago, etc. A conversation about local craft beer started. I mentioned some of my favorite breweries in town. And received the sneering feedback I almost always get (from men) when I express an opinion about beer. Then the man across from me asked, out of the blue, “Why do you do research?”. Seemed like an odd and bit aggressive question. I responded with, what I think, are the reasons I do research. Stuff like: Because I’m a naturally curious person. Because I enjoy it. Because I’m (occasionally) good at it. Because I think it actually does some (tiny) good in the world. And because, honestly, a big part of being an academic is doing research that you can then present and publish. Job search, tenure, and such. Also, I’m a Postdoctoral Research Fellow. Research is right there in my job title.

    Those reasons did not meet his approval. He sent me a very clear look that demonstrated his criticism of my thoughts. Whatever I said clearly was not the right (or his right) answer. Obviously all my doctoral work, dissertation, and postdoc efforts have taught me nothing about research. I had no idea where to go with this conversation. I asked why he did research and he responded with something esoteric and with the intent to put me in my place. I was so furious that my brain refused to comprehend his words fully. All I could think was, “I am going to lose it.” Which I almost NEVER experience. I don’t remember the last time I did. But I didn’t explode this time. I sort of wish I did, but also sort of glad I didn’t. People like that don’t deserve the amount of energy I would need to go off. I didn’t even have anywhere near that energy at the time. In these situations, it feels like they want my anger. They want an argument. A chance to show off what they know and what they think I don’t.

    But here is what I would have said:

    I have a fucking PhD. Did you know that is a research degree? I’ve spent about five years conducting research either in collaboration with colleagues or on my own. I’ve been (and continue to be) mentored by AMAZING researchers. I completed a dissertation a year ago. This means that I came up with original research, dealt with the IRB, collected and analyzed my data, wrote up, presented, and defended my research, and proved to my committee that I can produce quality research. I’m in the middle of a postdoctoral fellowship, a terrific position that allows me to participate in really interesting research, learn more about research, and discuss research. I’m definitely not the best researcher. Occasionally I’m good at it. But for the most part I’m constantly learning how to become a better researcher and a more critical thinker. Finally, research research research.

    I’m often on the defense with men. Whether it’s what I’m doing, what I’m reading, where I’m going, what I believe, and even what I feel. I know other women have experienced this too. I do love to learn. I’m excited when someone teaches me a new thing, shows me a different way to look at something, or gives constructive feedback. But I know when people are being kind and helpful versus trying to break me by dismissing my intelligence, education, and interests. I have so little patience for this as I grow older. But I’m (finally) able to detect when men are explaining things to me. No longer shrinking inside myself quite as much. Instead, trying very hard to stand tall.

    Obviously, I’m still working through some issues relating to conferencing (see Part 1 & Part 2). Thank you for continue to read. Writing helps me process uncomfortable, confusing, painful, and overwhelming experiences in ways that even therapy cannot. As I write, I learn more about myself and whatever I’m struggling with. I make connections and discoveries that I would never had if I kept it all in my head. I figure out what really happened and why I responded the way I did. Writing also helps tame my tendency to overanalyze everything. I never know exactly where writing will take me but maybe that one reason I love it. I write to go forward.

  • Guest Blogging: “Transforming Teen Services: The Empathetic Librarian”

    Guest Blogging: “Transforming Teen Services: The Empathetic Librarian”

    On Monday, March 24, my post for the YALSA blog appeared.  It’s my first blog post in a monthly series of posts on Transforming Teen Services. You can read the post on the YALSA blog here. Or you can read it below! Please share your thoughts. I would love to hear from you all!

    While libraries have long participated in the struggle for social justice and equality, it hasn’t been until recent months thatour efforts have reached the attention of the public. We’ve pushed diversity and inclusiveness to the forefront with movements like Libraries 4 Black Lives and Libraries Are For Everyone. Libraries and librarians have also begun to incorporate social services alongside more traditional library services. We’re connecting patrons with mental health agencies, public health workers, and housing assistance. Libraries including San Francisco Public Library and Denver Public Library are offering themselves up as safe havens for the homeless; places where these patrons can find support and compassion.

    Although the majority of these programs are directed towards adults, many libraries are reaching out to teens. School librarians are collecting materials specifically for LGBTQ youth while public librarians are providing outreach to homeless teens. The YALSA Futures Report explicit calls out for libraries to serve underserved youth including those incarcerated, homeless, or otherwise in crisis. At the root of these services is empathy. By empathy, we mean the “ability to understand and share the feelings of another” (Oxford Dictionaries, 2017). It requires that librarians look beyond collection development, teen programming, and readers’ advisory as tasks to carry out. Instead, we need to carefully assess how we explicitly (but sometimes not) provide help and support to teens through this work. Empathy is inherently a part of the work we do every day. Libraries serve as community hubs and safe spaces, stepping beyond the traditional perception of libraries as warehouses for books. As community anchors, libraries advocate for teens through political engagement and outreach. Advocacy itself is an empathetic activity, nurtured by understanding and compassion. By promoting services and advocating for underserved youth, we demonstrate our commitment to and empathy for teen patrons along with promoting the well-being of our community as a whole.

    However, our empathetic work with youth is often overlooked or ignored. In the research and professional literature, empathy in libraries is frequently referred to as customer service. Yet this work is much more than that providing a teen patron with a library service. Being empathetic requires us to be active and engaged listeners who have a mindset of helping. This is already a core component of librarianship. Librarians impact the lives of youth by offering the library as a welcoming space for teen emotional, social, and psychological development. By being empathetic, we reach out to youth who may not have anyone else or feel misunderstood by peers, parents, or teachers. Through our engagement with teens, we display compassion and understanding that improves that quality of all library services.

    Libraries serve as a critical “third place” for youth, particularly underserved youth. Separate from home and school, libraries act as a judgement free space where teens can express themselves, hang out, and find support. Whether through teen mentorship, interest-driven education, or teen library space design, librarians place great value on teens and serving teens. A transformation of teen services and the ways in which a library can support teens is in progress. By incorporating empathy into library work with teens, librarians illustrate the continued importance of libraries in communities.

    You can find great resources about serving diverse and underserved teens at this YALSA wiki.

    Abigail Phillips, Ph.D. is a Postdoctoral Fellow in the Department of Instructional Technology and Learning Sciences at Utah State University. You can find her on Twitter (@abigailleigh) and by e-mail (abigail.phillips@usu.edu).