It’s Wednesday! Happy Hump Day. I have a paper due. Welcome to Student Mom Life.
Let’s talk about education because I have neglected many questions about my current educational path. In the fall of 2017 I began a PhD program. Earning a PhD has been in my life plan since I was 23 when I was in graduate school studying occupational therapy, in which I received a Masters of Occupational Therapy (the degree offered at that time). I knew early on that I wanted more than what a clinical OT degree could offer. I love working with patients but my curious and persistent heart belongs in research and teaching, in which a PhD is required. My 23 year-old self mapped out my next decade and there I stood, Lesleigh Kowalski, PhD. I even doodled that name over and over again during class as if I was fantasizing about a crush. In a way, I kind of was: I fantasized over the kind of woman I would one day become. Of course the path that actually happened was not anywhere near as linear and I am definitely a few years behind my predicted timeline. However, my children appeared a few years ahead of this schedule, because life happens but goals are goals.
“I truly believe the universe conspires in our favor.”
I then proceeded to spend the 10 years after OT school researching different doctoral degrees (MD vs PhD vs EdD vs OTD), specialties (neuroscience, rehabilitation science, education, or health science?), schools, funding, etc. I picked everyone’s brain I knew to pick. I called on colleagues, former professors (even from undergrad), former supervisors, and scoured many online forums. This was not a decision I took on casually. Throughout the past decade my interests have changed depending on my geographical and clinical setting: In my early 20s I planned to study rehabilitation science as I was still consumed by the loss of my swimming career; in my late 20s I planned to study neuroscience as I was consumed by working with patients who had cerebral palsy. Then, in my early 30s I applied to a PhD program to study health science because I was consumed by the inequity of healthcare in Alaska; I did not get in due to conflicting research interests. Don’t you love the timing of life though? I decided to postpone that dream and we then had Magnolia. What would our life be had this sequence not occurred? I truly believe the universe conspired in our favor.
Then last year around this time as I was fuzzy from sleep deprivation and parenting an infant my favorite former OT professor contacted me about a new program and encouraged me to apply. However, I dismissed it quickly because the degree is in health professions education. What? That’s ridiculous, I thought, I do not want a PhD in Health Professions Education and I am way too tired to think about this right now. But, I stayed in the loop to see how the program transpired and applied just for kicks with only a slight interest in attending. I was accepted and decided to “try it out” for a while. I did not even commit myself to the full semester; I was convinced I would despise it.
“Life happens but goals are goals.”
It turns out that this program is the exact program I need at the exact right time. It is an interprofessional program of healthcare providers (all already possessing a clinical Masters degree at minimum) in which we get to share our discipline-specific lenses and create our own area of expertise. My first semester surely contributed to my newfound sense of self and I felt pieces of my former self rise up to the surface. Oh hello, I kind of, vaguely recognize you. A large motivating force shoving me forward was, at the time, the need to take control over my life. I felt, as many mothers do, that I was in the backseat of my own life. Our former moves depended mostly on Nate’s job, my schedule was dictated entirely by tiny humans, and I needed to feel like I was the driver of my own life. Me. Not Nate. Not my daughters.
It has not been all roses and sunshine though. Academically, I struggled at first with shifting from “hard science” to “soft science.” I thought I was giving up a key piece of myself and found my ego raising her ugly head many times wishing it were different, wishing I was studying at a certain school on the east coast or that the degree was actually in neuroscience so I could finally, finally prove to people that I am smart. I don’t think the teenager whose crappy report card that got taped to the refrigerator with the words, “These grades are not even good enough for OSU,” written on it or the girl who barely passed her senior thesis in undergrad will ever shake those feelings, though, regardless of the degree or the granting institution.
“I needed to take control of my life.”
I now realize that a PhD is a PhD and this is one I can accomplish in the here and now without uprooting my entire family. I really adore these words of encouragement from Nate, the sheep hunter, about my unintended path departure: “When you’re out sheep hunting you have a spot in mind that you want to get to, so you hike all day to get to the peak of a mountain for a better vantage point of your goal destination. But then you might look over a bit to your right and see what you’ve been looking for is in a different spot than predicted, but you wouldn’t have seen that huge ram without hiking towards your first plan first.” Right? I know. I looked at him scrupulously after that, too.
Then real life hit. There is so much to consider when taking on this endeavor, even more so now as a mother with a family life balance to incorporate into my master plan. I took a leap of faith into this program because, in the end, my priority is to maintain mothering my daughters and not attending a big name school. So how does it work? Well I have class on Tuesdays and Thursdays; they are online in real time with webcams, presentations, guest lecturers, and pop quizzes. At first I did not realize this and assumed we’d watch pre-recorded lectures at our leisure or something like that, therefore I “showed up” to orientation at 8:00am in bed, still in my pajamas with bedhead and no makeup on, quickly growing horrified as I sat staring at my new classmates (all in their offices at work, by the way, professionally dressed and not trying to hold an infant out of eye sight) while the director of the program went through the week’s agenda.
“Women can do anything; we can be mothers, we can be professionals, we can earn degrees after children are born if we choose to.”
The live classes are at the absolute worst time of day for a family with young children: starting at 6:00pm. This means a highly choreographed chain of events needs to occur in order to allow me to be present for class. An early dinner is made, yet not often eaten by me until class is done, and Nate often has to rush home from work to relieve my parental duties. Or, we utilize the help of our amazing nanny to be present for the hand-off period because I also work at the hospital on Thursdays. Usually Waverley has swim lessons or there is some sort of conflict where we inevitably all need to be two places at once. Then Nate feeds the girls dinner, gives them a bath, and puts them both down for bed while I hide in some corner of our tiny house pretending not to hear the girls screaming or dumping bath water over the side of the tub for the millionth time in their lives so I can pay attention and not sound like an idiot if/when randomly called on. Most nights Waverley comes and sits next to me with an iPad while Nate puts Magnolia down. I love this part because I feel stronger and more determined in these moments; I am doing this for you, I think as I look at her. Women can do anything; we can be mothers, we can be professionals, we can earn degrees after children are born if we choose to. I hope someday she will feel the weight of these sentiments that I attempt to instill without her knowing. I let her pop her head into my camera view for a moment so she can see my classmates and offer a wave.
A very seminal experience of sacrifice for me occurred over Waverley’s birthday weekend. My classmates and I were in the midst of what can only be referred to as an intellectual storm, when all instructors contrive to make huge assignments simultaneously due in an effort to test the limits of sanity and force the processing of information. I struggled with giving Waverley the birthday she deserved and the celebration my party-loving self wanted to throw. It was an impossible weekend but Waverley had a fantastic birthday with those she loves most (her cousin), I learned to survive on less decorations and easier desserts, and Nate took the girls out of the house for 1/2 a day so I could write my papers in peace. I learned that doing it all is only possible when re-examining what “it all” actually means.
“The best things in life always require sacrifice and are always inconvenient.”
I tell you all this for one simple reason and it is not to humble brag about our “busy” schedule. When there is something worth doing, when we make a choice to pursue something for ourselves or pursue a lifelong goal, it can be messy and it is usually inconvenient. The best things in life always require sacrifice and are always inconvenient, like exercise, maintaining friendships, and compromising in marriage. My schooling is not solely comprised of idyllic study sessions at the coffee shop or writing a paper with children who play quietly nearby. It entails sacrifice from many ends, especially Nate’s, but we make it work. I just don’t want people to think that, a) it is somehow easier for me, or b) you are not capable of the same thing. It is way too easy to get caught up in the daily grind of motherhood. Believe me, I have been swallowed whole by it, but I’ve found that being highly intentional with my time and priorities allows me to do this, too. Because life happens but goals are goals:)
