I recently read this very depressing LA Times article that discusses the bleak prospects for those with a PhD, particularly in the humanities. 
The article is titled "Universities are offering doctorates but few jobs." Well, really, in today's economy, who is offering a lot of jobs?
The article discusses the plight of universities and their current hiring processes:
"Many universities are cutting costs by reducing full-time staff and hiring adjunct or part-time professors. The number of full-time faculty members at universities was around 51% in 2007... That leaves many doctoral degree candidates stuck with adjunct work, which can pay as little as $2,000 a semester."
$2,000 a semester? A semester? Are you kidding me? That's nearly what I get in unemployment in one month! I would never be able to pay rent, bills, and student loan debt on that kind of abysmal income.
Those students with degrees in the humanities have the toughest road ahead of them:
"Graduates with humanities doctorates are particular[ly] vulnerable to the downturn in university hiring. In 2008, 86% of humanities doctoral recipients ended up in academia, whereas only 15% of engineering doctoral recipients did.
The number of jobs listed in the Modern Language Assn.'s Job Information List, a clearinghouse for English and foreign literature doctoral students, is down more than 40% over two years, the steepest decline since the association began keeping count."
And the graduates themselves are making personal pleas to prospective graduate school students:
" 'If you're thinking about going to graduate school, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it,' said Erin Williams Hyman. After receiving a doctorate in comparative literature from UCLA in 2005, she looked three years for a job as a professor but was unsuccessful...
Stover, the graduate-turned-poker-player, isn't bitter about switching careers. She said she was sick of the long hours and 'soul-sucking' world of academia. She still has friends who hold low-paying academic jobs who want out.
'In retrospect, doing a PhD was not worth putting in six years of my life, she said. 'But going through that whole process taught me a lot about how to work hard.' "
The funny thing is, these are exactly the things I say about law school! I warn people not to do it, that it's not worth it. And I also say that I learned a lot from the experience, particularly about hard work and accomplishing something.
So maybe it doesn't matter what you study. In today's market, if you're looking for a career, for a secure and well-paying job, higher education is not a guaranteed path to that outcome. In fact, I believe there is no guaranteed path to that outcome. And so I return to my mantra - if there is no guarantee of security and financial success, regardless of the career you choose, then do what you love.
That's what's in it for me. I am going back to grad school to do what I love.
My personal plan of action is to go back to school to become a literature professor. I want, someday, to teach creative writing at a university. So I fall right into the group of people the article discusses, and if present times are any indicator, my competition will be great and my chances of success slim.
How do I cope with the prospect of going back to school in the face of this job market? The answer is all about what's in it for me. Or, rather, what I'm in it for.
I am first going back to school for my MFA. An MFA is a terminal degree, which means it is not intended to be followed up by more schooling. An MFA is supposed to prepare a person for being hired as a professor if that is the career they choose.
But an MFA is also, perhaps more accurately, thought of as an opportunity to write. Given the competitive job market, given that creative writing teaching jobs often go to published and well-known writers, MFA students are encouraged to think of their time in graduate school as two or three years set aside for them to write.
This is how I view my impending time in grad school. Particularly since I plan to attend a school that funds, I look at this as two or three years that I have to write. Hopefully what I write will be good, will get published, will earn me a bit of a name, and will help me get a teaching position. Hopefully my MFA itself will get me a teaching position. But regardless of whether the degree produces the fruit of employment, what's in it for me is two or three years to write, and that itself is invaluable.
At the end of my two or three years of my MFA program I plan, like a groundhog, to poke my head out of my schooling hole and take notice of the weather. If it is a better time in this country, a better time for education, and thereby a better time to find a university professor position, I will put my effort into that. If, on the other hand, things look much like they do now and my prospects of finding a position are slim, then I will head right back into my study hole for my PhD. That will give me another five or more years to become an expert in my field, to be paid to be educated, and to allow the American climate some time to take a turn for the better.
If, after about eight or more years of schooling, the job market still looks bleak at the same time my law school student loans become due, then I'll do what I have to do to succeed. I may apply my expertise in the private sector, I may go back to the law, or, like Elena Stover from the LA Times article, I may become a professional gambler.
The point is that my decisions will not be made out of fear. Fear will not deter me from following my dream. One way or the other I always land on my feet. I am smart and capable and at the end of this road I will be excessively educated. I do not fear failure. I only fear not pursuing my dreams. Read More
