Today's my PhD birthday. Every year for the past 34 years, I celebrate this day because it's the day I turned in five copies of my signed dissertation, and started driving my red Mercury Lynx 3600 miles to my new professorship.
Most people don't remember the day they pass their dissertation defense or the day they get signed off because they expected it. For me, both of them seemed like a miracle because I struggled so hard in my PhD program and had such a weird dissertation. And on those days, I also call my advisor to thank him, which I just did. Because he wasn't my first choice. Typically, the gravitational pull for choosing an advisor is strongest for those with big reputations. Picking the hottest, most famous person in a field is one way to pick an adviser. After all what could go wrong? Case Study #1. A number of years ago at a different university, I had a good friend who was starting her PhD in environmental engineering over a second time. Her first go-around had been after she chose the “most famous” person in her field at the most famous school in her field as her adviser. She hated it, hated the school, and ended up leaving with what she called “a consolation Master’s degree.” She said her famous adviser had never around, never cared about her, never thought she was smart enough or working hard enough, never liked her ideas, and that he played favorites with the more advanced students. Case Study #2. I too had originally chosen the “most famous” person in my field, and things didn’t work out. As a 3rd year PhD student I thought I was going on the job market. Instead I was told my funding was being eliminated, and that I had 4 months to find a new dissertation adviser, a new dissertation topic, and to defend that topic, or I would be asked to leave the program (probably without the consolation Masters). One conversation rescued me from having to start a PhD a second time a different school. Three shell-shocked days after being blind-sided, I was talking to a church friend who was a professor in the medical school. I told him what had happened and about my confusion. He said, “If I knew you were going through this, I would have told you what I tell my graduate students. ‘When it comes to picking a thesis committee, you pick your best friend to be your thesis adviser, your favorite uncle to be one committee member, and your favorite cousin to be your other.’” This is a radically different approach than what I had used. The advice was to “Pick your best friend to be your advisor.” Not “the most famous” person in the department. Not even the person whose research interests are most like yours. Pick the person who likes and believes in you and your best interests. You might not be as “hot” when you graduate, but you might be a lot more likely to graduate in the first place. Most of the "I chose the most famous advisor" stories don't pan out, in my experience. Picking a star-spangled dissertation or thesis committee that you think will make you “hot” on the job market is a great strategy for Super-Duperstars. For the other 90% of us, we should pick one that will help us graduate.
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Kenny G is the universe's highest-selling jazz musician, and he magically appeared behind me at the Syracuse Jazz Festival. His band opened with three standing ovation songs before he spoke.
I’ve been lucky enough to see tons of great concerts – from Led Zeppelin about 50 years ago to Bruce Springsteen about 50 days ago. When all of these musicians make their opening remarks, they usually exude cool attitude or unrestrained ego. None of them said what Kenny G said next.
He talked about the debt he owes to his high school music program. He held up his sax and told people it was the same saxophone his Mom and Dad bought for him 50 years ago in high school band. He said he was playing with these same guys for over 40 years. He went on to say they all got their start in their public high school music programs. He then introduced each person by saying what their hometown was and naming the specific high school they attended. For instance, he and his keyboard player had met in Franklin High School jazz band in Seattle and have played together ever since. In 50 years of watching concerts, I've heard superstar musicians sing that "we don't need no education, we don't need no thought control," or about throwing fastballs during their high school glory days. I've only heard one of them ever say how grateful they are to the education they got in public high school, and how grateful they are for their music teachers. As amazing of a musician as this guy is, I think he's probably also an amazing person. |
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