I recently graduated (yay!), which means I am in a long and sometimes painful process of handing over various service obligations to the very few people who, chances are, have already been disproportionally burdened. But this will not be a primarily ranty post; I promise.
I have noticed a strange phenomenon lately. As is typical, I now remember some past instances that would fall under the same genre. This is a post in which I try to make sense of it all.
Recently I was recruiting organizers for this year’s Wonder workshop. Since it’s the third iteration already, the actual work is fairly straightforward. I wanted to get a few junior students involved so they can perhaps carry on after I’m gone. Obviously, these things should be entirely interest-driven and I am totally fine if no one wants to do it in the future. But if people are interested, I really do think this is a good opportunity.
It’s not that people are not interested. It’s that people are interested in “helping out”, and they show up to meetings with no opinion about anything. I really don’t understand where that’s coming from. If the workshop has ever been “mine”, it should be obvious that it will soon not be. They are not doing *me* a favour by working on it, and *I* will not be the one to compensate them. It is baffling because, like I said, it is totally okay to not want to do this. But if someone wants to do it, shouldn’t there be something specific that they want to do? Why would someone “want to help out” without seemingly having any idea what, exactly, they want to do?
It is perhaps unfair of me to be more annoyed at people wanting to help out than people who have never offered to do anything. I suppose some part of it is the connotation that this is *my* job. There is a phenomenon where equity concerns are seen as personal problems of those who voice them, and so any efforts at addressing them are seen as personal favors to these people. This is not quite the same as in my case, and I understand that it might be a bit tricky navigating between giving someone credit for earlier work and inappropriately ascribing ownership and responsibility.
A few years ago, I was involved in an incident which I alluded to in an earlier post. I was the one who first voiced concern and, technically, “got it started”. But a number of other people soon voiced similar or different concerns as we, collectively, tried to figure out what was going on and what to do about it. People were looped in for different reasons: some were my close friends and confidants; some were people with similar experiences and cared about the issue a lot; some were part of the resolution attempts. At some point the whole department was made aware of this in a rather ambiguous way. It wasn’t by me but it was clear that I was a concerned party. Some people reached out to me afterwards.
At some point, a friend of mine messaged me in a rather annoyed tone. “The department is too secretive,” he said, though it was clear that he thought I was being secretive, “there has been no communication about this and I feel very excluded.”
I was simultaneously furious and amused. “Did you ask someone and was refused an answer?” I asked. It was not my responsibility to ensure everyone was up-to-date on the gossip, I explained. I did not organize a movement and hand-pick some people to exclude. I was concerned about something and talked to my friends about it, who suggested we should do something. But what should we do? Maybe ask X because X cares about these things and might have an insight. X suggests that Y has a related experience and asks if it’s okay to loop Y in. Z sees me in the hallway and comments that I look distressed. I vaguely alludes to something distressing and Z really offers to help out. That’s how these things work. We don’t exactly hold an election on who to call on when dealing with stressful situations. I am not in charge.
The friend, of course, apologized, which is why we are still friends. But I think about this exchange a lot. I appreciate the fact that he confronted me about this, and I often wonder how many people have not. In fact, on another occasion I have heard someone express a concern that the few grad students who do most of the service work would accumulate too much power and oppress those who never volunteer. I did not have a good enough relationship with this person to have a conversation, but I remain baffled — where does he think the power come from? What does he think we are doing with this power? How does he think these things work?
To be fair, I do remember what it’s like to not know what is allowed. The rules are rarely clear and common sense is unreliable. You might do something you take to be a completely ordinary show of friendliness, only to discover, when it’s much too late, that it is widely considered unprofessional or even offensive. The safe option, and the option often advised if you are so fortunate as to receive advice, is to check with a trusted authority, such an advisor. Unfortunately, oftentimes the answer you get there is ambiguous at best. “I suppose you can do something like that if you want to”, which is not very helpful. I used to find it deeply frustrating, but now I understand why: the permission is (often) not theirs to give, and it’s often not clear what else the student is asking.
At some point, I figured this out. The climate survey sat in limbo for a year after its full revision because I kept looking for the “go ahead” from other people and not finding it. I was not tasked to do this by anyone with authority, though everyone I talked to said it was a great idea. But it felt wrong, like how you can’t just decide to sit in on a bunch of college classes and give yourself a diploma. Someone has to give the green light.
But the permission was no one’s to give, and the project was mine. Eventually I tired myself out and went with it and it worked out. People treated it with as much legitimacy as I was looking for. It just wasn’t the sort of thing that needed sanctioning.
Part of this lesson was learned by observation, too. I have met a number of inspiring women on this regard. “It would be nice to have something like X”, they’d think to themselves. Then they discover that nothing of this sort currently exists. “I’ll just make something, then.” And they do.
It is a mental hurdle to get over and there usually is not a clear guide on how one should go about getting over it. So, I do understand some aspect of this. I suppose what still baffles me is why some people seek permission from *me, or other grad students who can in no way be imagined to be in charge.
What makes it stranger is that there’s usually little to no incentive in these things, so it’s not even like people wanting to “get in” on a sweet deal. Why would one go out of their way to volunteer only to not not have any ideas?
I’m just repeating myself at this point. Hopefully it was at least vaguely coherent. I remain baffled for now, though.
- It might happen after all - May 14, 2023
- Another job market data point - December 17, 2022
- Our place in the fediverse - November 30, 2022