Third Culture Kid(s)

When I try to describe the actual process of writing a dissertation, The Lord of the Rings always makes a good analogy. I was secretly pleased to discover that I’m not alone in thinking this, and this woman does a much better job here in Frodo Baggins, ABD.

It just works. And in the LoTR of my dissertation, I’ve barely made it out of the Shire. I’m probably laying on the ground after getting all stabbed by the Ringwraiths at that place…you know the one I’m talking about.

And don’t even get me started on poor, poor Sam/M.

The only thing I’d read differently is the Ringwraiths themselves; sure, the unending financial difficulties, the feeling that I’m not pulling my financial weight, the costs of attending conferences on my own dime, it’s hard. But that’s nothing but the LoTR equivalent of camping out along the way to Mount Doom - huddled in the rain under cloaks, eating nothing but Lembast bread, that kind of thing.

The Ringwraiths are really the phantom voices of disapproval that you can’t escape. The academic who emailed you to criticize your first real publication without having actually read the piece first, thus sending you into a spiral of insecurity for three years and counting.* The fellow conference-goer who takes one look at your nametag and breezes right past you and into the company of someone better known. The faceless, nameless masses of established academics who will certainly recognize your dissertation/publications for the tripe they are.

THOSE are the real Ringwraiths, and damned if they’re not everywhere.

*This is true; s/he actually said “I haven’t read it all yet, but…”