photo by PhotosNormandie
About a month ago I successfully defended my dissertation. The time since then hasn't been spent on some deserted beach somewhere or in an unholy celebratory glut. Instead, as you will see, it has been spent tying up all the loose ends necessary to graduate. I find it fitting that I started writing this on tax day. As a symbolic gesture, I try to plant all of my tender vegetables on April 15th, or close enough, each year. It's one productive area of life still untaxed. In a similar vein, I see today as one of my first days back from what has been a difficult and taxing journey. The whole doctoral process, and all of music school for that matter, is a story for another day. This article will be aimed at those seeking help going into a final defense. It may also be of interest to those wondering what it's really like.
I'm skipping all the wackamole that took place scheduling the defense and all the work that went on with my advisor prior to the defense, except to say that the final draft that is being deposited into the library is the fifth version. The day before my defense, I drove 500 miles from my home in Knoxville all the way to the University of IL in Urbana-Champaign. I checked into the motel, the same one my wife and I checked into five years before when I was auditioning. On a lark, I drove almost the entirety of my old paper route from one of my summer jobs. I was surprised I still remembered it. That night, I finally got in touch with my advisor for one last pep talk, and I reread the document one last time before bed. You might think it would be hard to sleep, but I didn't have too much trouble. The realization that I knew my paper better than any one else possibly could was comforting.
The next morning, I ran down stairs to send one last reminder to my committee about the defense. You can never be too careful, especially now that the graduate school has decided that if one of your committee members fails to arrive, you are not allowed to defend. I was a little nervous about this, because one of my committee members had not responded to any of the latest emails. Yikes! I drove to the music building and parked at a meter. I couldn't help but expect to see my many classmates. Three years had passed, and almost no one was left in the trenches. So, it was the same old place with all new faces. It was a little surreal, but ultimately I think I got some closure from the experience. It's hard to explain to people why I still felt attached to Urbana when I moved home three years ago. I really was ready to get out of there, but I had underestimated the attachments I had made with my friends and classmates during course work. The bonds seemed stronger than those I felt from my two years in Chicago completing my master's of music degree. I think it comes down to the level of misery you experience. It must be something similar to what army vets go through in the trenches. The context for your relationships mostly evaporates when you ship home, but some of those friendships last forever.
When it came time for the defense, I was getting nervous. It wasn't as bad as before my preliminary defense two years ago, but I still coldn't shake the importance of the moment. The time came, and the meeting room door opened. Handshakes and smiles were exchanged while we waited for everyone to arrive. It was really happening. My advisor spoke first. Unlike in the preliminary exams, he served more as an advocate. He told the committee what I had been up to in my career, and how he thought I had put a ton of work into the project. With the pleasantries out of the way, I was asked to leave the room for a moment during which time the committee talked over my project in private. After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity, they asked me back in. At this point, the defense resembled my prelims. The round table gauntlet ensued as each committee member, barring my advisor, began their questions and comments. In the prelims, I was asked to defend my answers and also answer other tangential questions. The tone of the final defense was different. It was far less about me and my knowledge and more about the paper itself.
One word of advice for any one about to defend would be to resist being overly defensive. Unless the committee member is factually inaccurate or is misunderstanding or misreading your paper, resist arguing. Instead think of it like a music lesson. The professor is making criticisms in order to improve the project. There may also be a certain amount of perfunctory critiques put out there. In other words, depending on the individual members of your committee, they may feel the need to justify their existence by trying to change your work. Just see it coming as you go into it. We were truly mincing words in there. Comments were made like, "don't use the word problem. Use the word issue instead." Another now humorous example was when I wrote that this study "only uses interviews for data." One member suggested not using the word "only" because it sounded "negative." I don't disagree with these changes, I just was surprised that there were not any substantive changes made. I guess I should be glad about that. Everything else was about formatting or specific word choices.
So, after all the missiles were fired, I was asked to step out one more time. When I came back in, my advisor gave me the verdict: not guilty with a sentence of 6 months parol, which is to say I passed with revisions. This was the outcome I most anticipated. I was pleased and relieved to be sure, but I knew it wasn't over yet. By the looks on their faces it was as if they were Pat Sajak and I had just won a new car. I think my reserved expression disappointed them. I'm sure this is one of the highlights of their jobs, getting to be the nice guy. I couldn't help but feel like there was still much to do. Even before I left Urbana I had to play errand boy and take some forms from the music building across campus to the graduate office.
Don't get me wrong. It felt good, but I couldn't totally breath a sigh of relief just yet. I did do a little celebrating, however. Luckily one of my friends was still in town, so we made plans to eat lunch at Lil' Porgy's, a barbecue place. And I phoned a friend now living in California, to share the good news and rub it in his face that I was getting to eat at our old stomping grounds again. After a half slab of ribs with texas toast, I was back on the road on my way home.
The month that followed was not that different from the months of rewrites prior to my defense, except that this time there was a clear finish line. I knew it had to be done by the 21st of April, and that included getting it through all the right channels and into the library. It was strange because everyone around me was congratulating me on graduating. It was nice, but I was still very much in the midst of it all. So, I continued with the same old routine of writing in the mornings before work and at night after dinner. This time, revisions consisted of turning lists into charts, making the bibliography conform to the Chicago Manual of Style, turning chapters into sections, and more mind numbing minutiae. Did I mention that I had a total computer crash during this time? It wasn't the first data emergency either. About a year ago my home was broken into, and my computer was stolen. So, if you are in the writing process or about to start, just know that you will lose your data at some point. Back it up religiously.
After the rewrite, I sent it back to my four person committee and got only one reply. I emailed my advisor and found out that it had been passed along to an administrator, which meant that this part was over. I went back and forth with the administrator, and she gave me a list of revisions to make consisting of additional formatting changes. I plowed through it again, sent it back, and to my surprise got a response saying, "Your paper will be deposited in the library this afternoon. Congratulations!". My heart skipped a beat. I guess part of me thought it would never end, and so I was surprised. Another part of me expected the sounds of trumpets and to have glitter and confetti fall from the sky. Instead the process ended, as T. S. Elliot wrote, " not with a bang but a whimper."
This should have been expected. Every semester, every major goal or project has been this way. Long ago I started using the metaphor of racing toward a cliff. You run as fast as you can, and suddenly you are in free fall, with none of the context of your previous experience. It has always been jarring for me. I don't, however, expect to have the post-dissertation blues as many others have. I have too many other things in my life that I care for, and now, for the first time in a long while, I have time to pursue them. This website is one such pursuit.
So, what advice or lessons learned can I share? Well, now I can say I know why half of people who finish course work never finish their dissertation. It took me three years. And that's with a fairly steady pace. I took a week or two off here and there, but largely graduating has been my primary task outside of meeting life's basic necessities. It takes time and energy, lots of it. And by the way, you may hear me call the paper a thesis or a dissertation. That's because it has changed status several times. In fact, I walked into my defense calling it a dissertation and left calling it a thesis. At this point I don't care what the university decides to call it. 240 pages are enough for me.
The outcome of my defense is the one I expected. Not everyone has this experience. Of course, my prideful ego would like to say passing all came down to the hard work I put into the project, but I know that there are many other variables. I think the committee members and especially your advisor play a big role. Are these people you can work with or are they on a power trip? One classmate asked me if he should use a certain instructor for his committee. I told him that she had a 1000 page dissertation and that she said she didn't know when to stop writing. That's a big red flag! Generally, instructors will ask as much from you as was expected of them. So, keep that in mind. One reason your advisor in so important is because he or she will have the greatest sway in your committee. If they are squarely in your corner, there is a good chance you will at least pass with revisions. On the other hand, if your advisor was MIA or you failed to pester them adequately enough, they may simply throw you under the bus in the defense. In my opinion, this would be capricious, but I've certainly heard of it happening. In the end, that which seemed like such a solitary effort is dependent on the cooperation with and approval of your committee. In my situation, I was blessed with some reasonable people. Plus I do feel like I was thorough in both my own writing standards and in incorporating the input of my advisor and my proof reader. Despite the success, this whole experience has felt like the breakout scene from shawshank redemption.
Now it's time to get busy living.
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