The Downside of Higher Education
This last Saturday, gasping for mental respite, I received a Masters of Public Health diploma signifying the end. Or at least a break.
The last two years have been profoundly eye-opening and humbling. My awareness of the nuances that play into health systems, both local and global, has greatly improved. I’m genuinely excited to possess a MPH degree, to apply vital knowledge to other industries/systems that could greatly use an outside perspective: policymaking, sustainability, energy transitions, mental health, and so on. With words and language as the main tools, no topic exists that can’t be influenced through a health lens. But, I’m burnt out.
The timeline is fuzzy, but it goes something like this: “La lala lala lala….oh shit, I’m kinda struggling.” Somewhere in the fall semester of my second year, that intrinsic fire went out. It felt like a return to my high school and undergraduate experiences, where I was checking off assignments and satisfying credits for someone or something else. Survival?
Like I’ve said, I loved graduate school……I think? When I’d ask those around me, faculty and students alike, how they’re doing, I’d hear, “Good! Busy, but good.” But when did busy=good? Yet, every time I numb myself with news articles and current events, I see what real problems look like. In the face of those, how can I not be doing good?
There’s a common misconception that mental health challenges politely refrain from impacting those with social, financial, or other advantages. Demographically, graduate school itself is a predominantly white, male environment. Pushing through this myth of mental health, and my past belief that personal responsibility and good habits can fix any funk, has been a challenge. That being said, I can also understand how the hydra-esque demands of college might push students to pursue more intentional health practices, as I experienced.
While higher levels of education are often associated with improved mental health later in life, the same is not always true while in college.
The Hustle
My gripe here is one of culture, not directed at any specific individual or group of people. The hustle culture, as it’s called, is pervasive in today’s world. It holds an even more sweaty grip in America—propagating from the seeds of The American Dream myth—and a downright deadly stranglehold on Academia.
Academia is a system, and systems are designed to work for the majority, not necessarily the individual. If it operated for the individual, faculty tenure—the pinnacle of success—wouldn’t rely on continued grant funding and grinding out publications. On the flip side, curriculum standards, originally designed with the theoretical in mind, no longer satiate undergraduates’ desire for applied learning.
Today there exists a tension between what higher education originally set out to be—Plato’s Academy and the pursuit of knowledge for the sake of discovery—and the standards present today, standards which often stamp out pure learning and curiosity. Free or reduced college tuition would certainly ease the anxiety many students feel regarding money, perhaps widening the opportunity for educational exploration.
Let’s talk about concept maps
Concept maps and logic models are beloved public health tools, intended to visually describe a process or phenomenon. The ironic thing about a model is that it’s often best understood by the brain which created it. With that in mind, I won’t try to explain too much about what was primarily a creative exercise—me exploring the process by which I personally develop and embed beliefs and/or values.
This question of how individuals’ construct beliefs is among the core efforts of public health researchers.
Theoretically starting at any point in the cycle, the process can involve either intrinsic (internal) and extrinsic (external) inspiration, or a figure-eight combination of both. But what cannot be removed is the central component—metacognition. Reflection. Contemplation. Meditation. Thinking about our thinking, in the hope that we receive something from the process during the process, not only at the end.
This is the piece that I’ve missed these last months: pausing to ponder the purpose and implications of my learning and professional work. This is not the fault of any individual or academic department, but the result of a system which produces perpetual deadlines, unrealistic work-life balances, and, for some, unhealthy outcomes.
Looking Forward
I am thankful for graduation, and proud of the commitment accomplished by my classmates and I. This is an upside of higher education: the bonds that are forged through a difficult, but shared experience. Few, if any, areas of life come without potential pitfalls. Research tells us in retrospect we nearly always remember the good parts more than the bad.
I am hopeful about the future of my learning. I’m excited to slow down and self-learn, taking things at my own pace and using these newsletters to help sort out my thoughts. I apologize if any of these newsletters come across as rambly or incoherent—they are often a windy roadmap of my thoughts, made more coherent (hopefully) for a broader audience. In this period of transition, I’ll follow Flannery O’Connor’s words for guidance, “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.”
As always, thanks for reading :)
Dedicated to Dr. John Bieter | Professor of History | Champion of Metacognition