Koalafications

Even before starting grad school, I knew quals would be the most difficult hurdle to overcome, even more so than difficult classes, reviewer comments, and the defense itself. The qualification exam, or quals, is a black box. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of consistency between the programs when describing or preparing for it, and students that I have talked to about the process act as if I have just uttered the dark lord Voldemort’s name. Comments like “I think I blacked out my quals” or “It was just so awful”, really did not inspire much confidence. There were a few “you’ll be fine”s in the mix, but during the pre-quals era, that felt more like a platitude than an assurance.

The entire ordeal was made worse by grant writing class. Although extremely helpful for quals preparations, it became a semester of feeding on our own and each other’s anxieties, and the seemingly endless discourse about quals did not help in giving us distance and perspective on the matter.

During Spring semester, it seemed like everything was even more so about quals. It felt like our lives wouldn’t really start until after quals were over. And though many of us tried to punctuate our preparations with fun activities, it was always with the thought of quals looming at the back of our minds. Attending others’ practice talks really highlighted the unpleasantness surrounding quals and reinforced my observation that some academics are just enamored with hazing. In some cases, it became less about examining the student and more about others showing how much they knew. Regardless, the practice presentations were brutal and exhausting. Thankfully my own practice quals were the worst part of the process.

The day of quals came around and I could barely sleep the night before from anticipation. I was nervous as I sat in the conference room waiting for my committee members to arrive, but it was nice to see familiar faces and really calmed me down some (so try to request people you already know and are comfortable with on your committee). I started talking and before I knew it, it was over. I was asked some questions that I knew I was going to get and was prepared for. There were some questions I didn’t see coming at all, or the answers were hidden so deep in the recesses of my brain that I word-vomited them out. And there were some questions I knew I was going to get but didn’t prioritize preparing for, and it still turned out okay. After I left the room for my committee to deliberate, I took a second to just breathe-it felt like I had been holding my breath for a year.  My presentation seemed solid, and even though I didn’t have the best answer to every question, I knew that I tried my best, and I found comfort in that. When they called me back into the room and told me I passed, I was really excited. But the question of “now what?” really stood out in my mind. I think I had overhyped the whole thing in my head to the point where I was almost disappointed after it was all over. I had planned to spend the rest of the day with the people closest to me just relaxing and unwinding, but after everything was said and done, it didn’t seem like that experience was worth all the stress and sleepless nights. After all, I’m still in my second year. I can definitely see how this period in time can make some students feel burned out and too tired to want to move on, but what’s the solution?

For me, having more peers open up about specifics regarding their experiences would have been more reassuring. Even having access to some data detailing the percentages of passes, conditional passes, and fails would have helped me frame things in a different light. It doesn’t help that everyone has such divergent experiences, but that’s why it’s even more critical to explore the spectrum. We can even take a silly approach and start calling them koalafications to be playful instead of demonizing the experience. Although this is just a start to reframing the way we approach quals, I think it can go a long way in supporting our student population. 

My takeaways from the whole experience:

● Everyone’s experience will be different. Some have really developed projects with tons of data, some have less-developed ideas with hypothetical data, and there are many in-between. AND ALL STATES OF BEING ARE OKAY. Your exam will vary by what you bring to the table, but that’s a big insight into how you can prepare.

Find your people. It is necessary to have people to commiserate with and air frustrations, but don’t let others’ frustrations bog you down. Quals season is a really stressful time so it’s important to surround yourself with friends and colleagues that can offer you constructive support while helping you maintain a positive attitude.

Practice makes perfect. Well not really, but you get the idea. Practice your talk in front of as many audiences as you can. More senior graduate students are a fountain of knowledge on how certain PIs ask questions, or what their expertise is, and can provide critical feedback. There will be a lot of stressful interactions as you give practice talks that can make this process difficult, but try to keep the perspective that each situation may help you grow as a scientist.

Trust yourself. This is probably the most difficult thing for some. Imposter syndrome is real, and this process inherently makes you focus on what you don’t know. But know that you deserve to be here, and you are here for a reason. If you’re ever feeling like you can’t pull yourself out of that hole, reach out to someone who can reassure you.

Overall, the preparations for the exam are the true test. It is easy to get overwhelmed with wanting to know every detail but prioritize and don’t let perfection be the enemy of good. Remember that this is YOUR science and hopefully you like it enough to share your passion with your examiners. 


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