In 2005, when SCAD was considering offering a writing major, I thought to myself, “Self, it would be great to teach in that department.” Though I had oodles of work experience, I knew that SCAD’s accrediting body prefers terminal degrees in the field of instruction. So I had two choices: Get another M.F.A. (the one I have is in performing arts) or get a Ph.D. I chose the latter.
I had three criteria in mind as I researched programs: areas of study offered (journalism or communications), proximity and reputation. The one that fulfilled all these requirements was University of South Carolina.
Eddie badgered me to apply. “But that would require taking the GRE!” I whined. “And I’m pregnant!”
“So?” he said, with very little compassion, I might add.
Lest you think he is heartless, his philosophy was that I might as well get on it while the kids were very young. That way I would be done when they got old enough to start extracurricular activities that I wouldn’t want to miss.
I knew he was right. I forced myself to take the GRE and apply to the doctoral program in the USC School of Journalism and Mass Communications. I was accepted, and began coursework Fall 2006. The total courses involved for most folks: 16 (48 semester hours). For me: 18 (because my master’s is not in the specific area).
I finished the coursework in April 2009. I spent the summer procrastinating on my dissertation proposal, and dreading the comprehensive exams (four days, three hours a day of answering questions in four areas: theory, methods, ethics and rhetoric, which is my outside area). I passed the foreign language proficiency test in October (see related post). The comps dread continued.
The time came, though, for me to put up or shut up. I studied my haunches off in preparation for the comps, which I stupidly scheduled for the week after Thanksgiving. The 19 people in my house for the holiday might not have fully understood why I was so stressed out.
Along with the written comps, there is an oral defense. That happened today. After my committee slowly roasted me over an open fire for two hours, they decreed that I had passed. To be honest, the first 20 minutes were horrendous, but then the rest was fine. The discussion will help me hone my dissertation proposal, for sure.
And that is the next step. I defend said proposal in front of my committee Feb. 19. Once I pass (the power of positive thinking), I will work exclusively on my own research for my dissertation. Then I will have to defend my dissertation in front of the same committee. Thumbs up, and my hooding awaits. Thumbs down, and … well, that’s really not an option for me.
So if I look a little frazzled in February (and over the summer), you’ll know why.
So proud of you!
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Thanks! And don’t you have one of these crazy Ph.D.-pursuit stories of your own?
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I knew why you were stressed. And I’m moving, for sure, if you are going to be stressed out in February AND all summer. Adios Savannah and Beth!
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No dude, you have to keep me calm with dock time.
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Keep it up, prof. Good luck!
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Way to go Beth!!!
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