One of A's best friends got her a Pipi Longstockings book for a birthday gift last year. Two books, actually, one in English and one in Swiss German. And at first A was too young to understand them, but she's gotten into them lately. She and this friend, L, are like two peas in a pod, and at daycare they will drive the teachers a bit nutty singing the Pipi song. So much so that they wind up relegated to the nap room to sing ad nauseum. I approve of this solution.
I also highly approve of Pipi. She's the strongest girl in the world. Stronger than the strong man at the circus. She can carry her horse on her shoulders. She wears mismatched socks, plays "don't touch the floor" around her kitchen furniture, gets eggs and hot chocolate in her hair when she cooks, and is generally a bad-ass.
And last weekend, when we had to go under the train station to get to the tram, and A had her scooter with her, she didn't ask us for any help with it. She hauled that thing up on her chest, and headed down some steep stairs. As only a proud 3 year old can do. And all she said, pleased as punch, was "I'm strong like Pipi."
My little girl was trying to emulate a female role model by being strong. And liking her own strength. Feeling good about it.
In this underpass, filled with Beyonce's new clothing like for H&M that makes you wonder are they selling clothing too cheaply or selling female sexuality too cheaply (answer: both), my daughter was only concerned with how great it was to be able to carry one's own scooter by oneself.
I love Pipi Longstockings.
Showing posts with label self-esteem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-esteem. Show all posts
Monday, May 6, 2013
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The alumni newsletter just came in! Great.
I just finished filling out an online survey for a Prestigious Graduate School Fellowship I once received, back when I was in Astronomy (about 1500 years ago). It dropped me right smack down in the middle of all the mixed (okay, mostly bad, actually) emotions I had every time I got my yearly "What kind of cancer have you cured this year?" call from the head of a different Pretigious Graduate School Fellowship program. Let's say that I started off my university life as a pretty prestigious kind of student. I studies physics and math and astronomy and I did really well in homeworks and exams. I did research projects and went to conferences and even taught some lectures as an undergrad. I got into all the grad schools I applied for, and I didn't set the bar low.
And at the end of 9 years in astronomy grad school, I quit. Dejected, depressed, no publications to my name, very little belief in myself. Single. Childless. (Although, I was going to be married soon, which was one of the very few points of light in my days back then). But every year since I'd spent a year at Cambridge, I'd get a call to see what glorious accomplishments I'd racked up. My fellow Fellows had gotten early tenure and professorships, some at Harvard or Princeton. They had research groups and I had a cat with kidney failure that I treated with subcutaneous fluids each day, I small house my mom had been smart enough to encourage me to buy in super-cheap Tucson, and a surprising hidden talent as a swing dance teacher. These yearly calls made me feel so low, so unaccomplished.
And let's face it, the alumni updates from, well pretty much anywhere I had attended, were depressing. So, in honor of not having started crying filling out this online survey just now while marking "extremely poor" on a number of aspect of my grad experience, I've decided to put up my own alumni update.
Or rather, two of them. Because, in the intervening years I've learned that everyone has their pain and failures, even the early tenure at Harvard folks, and that some are just better at masking it, or have it in more private aspects of their life.
Almuni update that makes me feel good about myself
"A" received both an NSF Graduate Fellowship and a Churchill Scholarship after graduating with a 4.0 GPA in Astronomy and Physics. She went on to get master's degrees in astronomy from both Cambridge University and the University of Arizona. While completing a PhD in science education, she was asked to talk about her research on the culture of communication in academia at locations as varied as IBM and Harvard, and internationally. She and her husband, daughter and beloved dog currently live in Zurich, Switzerland, where she works part time in academia and concentrates the rest of her time on raising her daughter in Lithuanian (her parent's first language), English and Swiss German. They have been enjoying traveling across Europe especially this summer - to Rhodes, Amsterdam, Torino, Istanbul and Stockholm. Also, she has recently decided just to love her 6 foot tall frame as it is and give up on worrying about fashion trends, instead following her creative instincts.
But really, wouldn't we all prefer the kind of alumni update that made the rest of us feel better about ourselves?
Alumni update that should make you feel better about yourself.
Friday, June 24, 2011
How did you manage to fool everyone into thinking you actually deserve your job?
Yes, I just posted something about 10 hours ago (believe you, me, my brain can tell it didn't get much sleep), but I'm trying to get motivated again to work from home for an hour and what I learned during the last few months of grad school was that writing leads to motivation, not the other way around.
And I'm preparing to do a workshop next week, on the culture of giving talks in academic physics and on the Impostor Syndrome. In my notebook, I have a bunch of keywords written down that look very cool, and they start with high stakes speaking, pass through asking questions and beliefs about intelligence and get all the way over to the Impostor Syndrome by the end. No problem. Apart from the actual content and method of delivery, my workshop is ready.
You think you've made it as far as you have in physics or astronomy (or a host of other careers) because of luck, chance and that those around you have made it there because they actually have what is required - intelligence. You just have to work extra hard so that whatever gatekeeper missed your sorry, lazy, dumb but on those previous tests of competence and right to be employed in science, never finds out he or she made a horrible mistake. You should have been kicked out (preferably while your ex-colleagues joked about your inability to do elliptical integrals in you sleep) long ago.
I know you think I'm mean for writing about you, personally, but actually these are the hallmarks of a person who has what is called Impostor Syndrome. Female grad students have it, but guess what, so do male grad students. And professors. And members of the National Academy of Sciences. Probably Nobel prize winners, too. Not every one of them, but there are people in each of these positions, who you think have it made and way better at this than you, that feel exactly like you do. At least that is what the research says. These feelings of inadequacy go all the way up the ladder. A person who feels this way is often worried that others will find out how "unfit" they really are. And it tends to influence behavior, by making the person try to hide their lack of knowledge - they don't ask questions for fear of being found lacking, they avoid challenging situations, etc.
I've felt this way before. When I was an astronomy graduate student. I had phenomenal undergraduate grades, and awards, and a pretty good physics GRE score. I had great letters of recommendation, and got into a lot of good programs. And I never raised my hand in class or in any kind of talk. Everyone remembered more than I did, knew more than I did, was better at math than I was. It was just a matter of time before I was found out.
The advice I've seen in most places on overcoming Impostor Syndrome focuses on being less critical of yourself, not saying "yes I accomplished that, but..." all the time. And I have to say, that advice didn't do much for me. It didn't help me rethink my role and competence from the inside out. It maybe made me more gracious about compliments, but it didn't make me feel much better. Knowing other people felt the same way, that made me feel better. Less alone. And then doing research on people's feelings about talking in academic settings made me feel much less alone. And after hundreds of hours of thinking and reading research, and going over and over my interview data, and talking with others, it made me look at the culture of academia and how it reinforces the Impostor Syndrome. I'll write about that in another post.
So here is my contribution to the debate - I don't think the goal should be to make people feel less like they got where they were by luck, and to aim to make them feel as smart (however that might happen!) as those they fear around them. I think it is time to highlight that everyone around us got where they were by luck. Sure you have to prepare, you have to work, etc. But you need the right mentor, the right opportunities and the ability to take advantage of them at the right time. I think that those of us with Impostor Syndrome are tapped into a very core characteristic of academic success - to a large extent, it is about luck and not about how smart you are. So yes, you're right, you got where you were by luck. Thing is, so did everyone else.
And I'm preparing to do a workshop next week, on the culture of giving talks in academic physics and on the Impostor Syndrome. In my notebook, I have a bunch of keywords written down that look very cool, and they start with high stakes speaking, pass through asking questions and beliefs about intelligence and get all the way over to the Impostor Syndrome by the end. No problem. Apart from the actual content and method of delivery, my workshop is ready.
You think you've made it as far as you have in physics or astronomy (or a host of other careers) because of luck, chance and that those around you have made it there because they actually have what is required - intelligence. You just have to work extra hard so that whatever gatekeeper missed your sorry, lazy, dumb but on those previous tests of competence and right to be employed in science, never finds out he or she made a horrible mistake. You should have been kicked out (preferably while your ex-colleagues joked about your inability to do elliptical integrals in you sleep) long ago.
I know you think I'm mean for writing about you, personally, but actually these are the hallmarks of a person who has what is called Impostor Syndrome. Female grad students have it, but guess what, so do male grad students. And professors. And members of the National Academy of Sciences. Probably Nobel prize winners, too. Not every one of them, but there are people in each of these positions, who you think have it made and way better at this than you, that feel exactly like you do. At least that is what the research says. These feelings of inadequacy go all the way up the ladder. A person who feels this way is often worried that others will find out how "unfit" they really are. And it tends to influence behavior, by making the person try to hide their lack of knowledge - they don't ask questions for fear of being found lacking, they avoid challenging situations, etc.
I've felt this way before. When I was an astronomy graduate student. I had phenomenal undergraduate grades, and awards, and a pretty good physics GRE score. I had great letters of recommendation, and got into a lot of good programs. And I never raised my hand in class or in any kind of talk. Everyone remembered more than I did, knew more than I did, was better at math than I was. It was just a matter of time before I was found out.
The advice I've seen in most places on overcoming Impostor Syndrome focuses on being less critical of yourself, not saying "yes I accomplished that, but..." all the time. And I have to say, that advice didn't do much for me. It didn't help me rethink my role and competence from the inside out. It maybe made me more gracious about compliments, but it didn't make me feel much better. Knowing other people felt the same way, that made me feel better. Less alone. And then doing research on people's feelings about talking in academic settings made me feel much less alone. And after hundreds of hours of thinking and reading research, and going over and over my interview data, and talking with others, it made me look at the culture of academia and how it reinforces the Impostor Syndrome. I'll write about that in another post.
So here is my contribution to the debate - I don't think the goal should be to make people feel less like they got where they were by luck, and to aim to make them feel as smart (however that might happen!) as those they fear around them. I think it is time to highlight that everyone around us got where they were by luck. Sure you have to prepare, you have to work, etc. But you need the right mentor, the right opportunities and the ability to take advantage of them at the right time. I think that those of us with Impostor Syndrome are tapped into a very core characteristic of academic success - to a large extent, it is about luck and not about how smart you are. So yes, you're right, you got where you were by luck. Thing is, so did everyone else.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Almost tomorrow's post
My laptop clock says 11:56pm. So it must be. By the time I finish writing, it will be tomorrow, so this post will count towards Friday.
Can a bar of dark chocolate really keep me up like this? I should stop experimenting with it. I don't really like the milk chocolate, and tonight, around 8:30pm, I ate a bar of dark. Like, the whole thing.
The city is finally under a dark sky, and the lights of the industrial area peek through the outlines of sunflowers and zucchini plant leaves in the garden. I'm not usually up this late. At least, not after sunset this month.
....
Hmm. Well, dang. That bar was about 3-5 oz of chocolate. Which apparently has 60-100mg of caffeine. Really? As much as brewed coffee or espresso. I guess that settles it, we need both dark and milk chocolate in the house for desserts. And I need to start eating chocolate in place of a coffee drink. Ok, maybe not that last part. So eating the bar of dark chocolate was pretty dumb.
So many things to think about when you can't sleep. Played too much of the Doodle God game, that isn't as logical as I'd like, but keeps sucking me in. You just keep trying to cross different pairs of items to create new ones, and the goal is 248 items, from zombies and superheroes, to seeds and lightbulbs and fish and sky scrapers. And money. And law. And concrete and wood. And you get a new hint to help you out every 2 minutes. Maddening in a slow enough drip that you keep going back.
Ooh, there's A, coughing and crying a bit.
And quiet again. Sweetie pie.
There is also a talk to think about, on my dissertation and on impostor syndrome, to a women physicists group next week. And the book on quantum physics and consciousness that has finally arrived at the consciousness chapter. So if there really isn't much of a self or an "I", where do all these hangups we have (low self-esteem, fear, embarrassment) come from? If the Buddhists have it right about there being no singular, constant self, why all these issues and therapists? If there is no "me" why should I care what someone else thinks of that "me" that doesn't even exist?
Which reminded me of something a counselor once told me regarding worry or sadness. That sometimes, for a chronic worrier like me, the sensation of worry comes before the assignment of that sensation to something. In other words, the body and brain worry first and then a reason is found for that worry. But since they happen so closely together, it feels like the reason comes first, followed by the physical response. I've noticed, now that I'm on a lower dose of antidepressants, that I'm a bit more emotional again. I get more teary more quickly during conflict. And I just feel sad sometimes. And for some reason, this time around, it makes sense what that counselor said - maybe because I'm really watching my moods and tracking when I should be PMS-ing, to try to see if the depression is coming back. I just feel sadness, or hopelessness sometimes. Okay, today a headline about child abuse started that feeling, but somehow I can step back more than before and sense that it isn't always caused by something. Sometimes I just feel sad. Like a hormone thermometer, that fluctuates with some chemical level. Maybe my body is just more sensitive to that kind of thing, and I need to practice not looking for reasons I feel sad.
12:15am, the webpage announces that my draft of this post is autosaved, and I'm going to try to go to sleep again.
Can a bar of dark chocolate really keep me up like this? I should stop experimenting with it. I don't really like the milk chocolate, and tonight, around 8:30pm, I ate a bar of dark. Like, the whole thing.
The city is finally under a dark sky, and the lights of the industrial area peek through the outlines of sunflowers and zucchini plant leaves in the garden. I'm not usually up this late. At least, not after sunset this month.
....
Hmm. Well, dang. That bar was about 3-5 oz of chocolate. Which apparently has 60-100mg of caffeine. Really? As much as brewed coffee or espresso. I guess that settles it, we need both dark and milk chocolate in the house for desserts. And I need to start eating chocolate in place of a coffee drink. Ok, maybe not that last part. So eating the bar of dark chocolate was pretty dumb.
So many things to think about when you can't sleep. Played too much of the Doodle God game, that isn't as logical as I'd like, but keeps sucking me in. You just keep trying to cross different pairs of items to create new ones, and the goal is 248 items, from zombies and superheroes, to seeds and lightbulbs and fish and sky scrapers. And money. And law. And concrete and wood. And you get a new hint to help you out every 2 minutes. Maddening in a slow enough drip that you keep going back.
Ooh, there's A, coughing and crying a bit.
And quiet again. Sweetie pie.
There is also a talk to think about, on my dissertation and on impostor syndrome, to a women physicists group next week. And the book on quantum physics and consciousness that has finally arrived at the consciousness chapter. So if there really isn't much of a self or an "I", where do all these hangups we have (low self-esteem, fear, embarrassment) come from? If the Buddhists have it right about there being no singular, constant self, why all these issues and therapists? If there is no "me" why should I care what someone else thinks of that "me" that doesn't even exist?
Which reminded me of something a counselor once told me regarding worry or sadness. That sometimes, for a chronic worrier like me, the sensation of worry comes before the assignment of that sensation to something. In other words, the body and brain worry first and then a reason is found for that worry. But since they happen so closely together, it feels like the reason comes first, followed by the physical response. I've noticed, now that I'm on a lower dose of antidepressants, that I'm a bit more emotional again. I get more teary more quickly during conflict. And I just feel sad sometimes. And for some reason, this time around, it makes sense what that counselor said - maybe because I'm really watching my moods and tracking when I should be PMS-ing, to try to see if the depression is coming back. I just feel sadness, or hopelessness sometimes. Okay, today a headline about child abuse started that feeling, but somehow I can step back more than before and sense that it isn't always caused by something. Sometimes I just feel sad. Like a hormone thermometer, that fluctuates with some chemical level. Maybe my body is just more sensitive to that kind of thing, and I need to practice not looking for reasons I feel sad.
12:15am, the webpage announces that my draft of this post is autosaved, and I'm going to try to go to sleep again.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The bounty of American magazines
I love Utne Reader. And WIRED magazine, and BITCH magazine (big surprise, huh?). And I intend to enjoy every minute of Black & White Photography magazine, American Scholar magazine, and Philosophy Now magazine. And whatever other things I scooped off the rack at the Border's in Tucson last week. It was glorious, to have that much choice. And to imagine myself taking one of these periodicals with me on a tram or to the dining room window seat.
Ahhhh, a little slice of familiar. But also new.
So on my way into town yesterday I has Utne reader with me. I only read a few articles, hoping to save it for a few more trips. And one of them was about a study on increased depression and low-self esteem in kids who see more advertising. You see what you don't have, what appears to make all those glossy happy people so happy, and want it. You find yourself lacking.
And as I sit here checking out how my blonde highlights spray is working, wondering if I should have bought the red flip flops at Target, too, I think "how dumb." It isn't just kids - it is all of us. Okay, it is me. And I didn't really think how dumb.
I looked at all my catalogs. Did you even realized J. Peterman still existed?! I haven't gotten a catalog from them in over 15 years! And they are the worst. Not even photos in that catalog, but watercolor drawings, and stories about each piece. It will help you marry Prince William's brother, it will make you like that Out of Africa Movie, it will make you....a Mistress of Milan.
So I've decided that since I'd rather not need the anti-depressants for more than the essential life conditions, it is out with the catalogs, unsubscribe from all the Gap and Old Navy email lists, and I'm going on a shopping fast. Because according to CB2, even my balcony is hopelessly insufficient for the fun I'd like to have this summer. Think of it as a late lent, and I still get to eat chocolate whenever and meat on Fridays.
I've marked 40 days on my iPhone calendar, and no purchases for home or body decoration in that time. Just to take a break from all that encouragement to want to be more, better, different. I will stop shopping or even browsing.
Right after my trip to IKEA this afternoon. Hey, even dieters "start tomorrow."
Ahhhh, a little slice of familiar. But also new.
So on my way into town yesterday I has Utne reader with me. I only read a few articles, hoping to save it for a few more trips. And one of them was about a study on increased depression and low-self esteem in kids who see more advertising. You see what you don't have, what appears to make all those glossy happy people so happy, and want it. You find yourself lacking.
And as I sit here checking out how my blonde highlights spray is working, wondering if I should have bought the red flip flops at Target, too, I think "how dumb." It isn't just kids - it is all of us. Okay, it is me. And I didn't really think how dumb.
I looked at all my catalogs. Did you even realized J. Peterman still existed?! I haven't gotten a catalog from them in over 15 years! And they are the worst. Not even photos in that catalog, but watercolor drawings, and stories about each piece. It will help you marry Prince William's brother, it will make you like that Out of Africa Movie, it will make you....a Mistress of Milan.
So I've decided that since I'd rather not need the anti-depressants for more than the essential life conditions, it is out with the catalogs, unsubscribe from all the Gap and Old Navy email lists, and I'm going on a shopping fast. Because according to CB2, even my balcony is hopelessly insufficient for the fun I'd like to have this summer. Think of it as a late lent, and I still get to eat chocolate whenever and meat on Fridays.
I've marked 40 days on my iPhone calendar, and no purchases for home or body decoration in that time. Just to take a break from all that encouragement to want to be more, better, different. I will stop shopping or even browsing.
Right after my trip to IKEA this afternoon. Hey, even dieters "start tomorrow."
Friday, March 4, 2011
The orange trench coat wants to go somewhere
I've been lusting after bright (not light) orange clothing items online for the last few months. There was this J Crew coat that I stalked for a while, watching the price go down, then realizing the quantities in my size had just done the same. Oops. It was a great coat and I'm sure I would have been an overall happier person wearing it instead of my mainstay black coat.
Just like I was sure about the orange H&M sweater today that I didn't buy, and the orange H&M trench coat that I did. There sure are a lot of orange coats that I'm not sure I'd be happier in on Etsy, too. Now the weather has to actually get a bit warmer so it can be a grey, rainy but not so cold day and I can brighten it up in my orange trench coat.
I am also frantically emailing all manor of B&B's and vacation rentals for an upcoming trip. I put this part off a bit too long, and there is not a lot left now. Although, yet again, AirBnB.com seems to have come through again. They list rooms, apartments and houses for rent all over the world. We stayed in one in Chicago that was perfect - a one bedroom loft apartment with a washer dryer and baby bed available. Free street parking. Close to museums and shopping. Great person doing the renting. Large cities have a lot of options on AirBnB, smaller cities, not so many. But with a toddler, it is nice to have more floor space, a fridge, a stove, etc.
But back to the coat that will make me happier (as well as prettier, more interesting, and way cooler). It really needs to warm up now, because I'm stuck being boring, bland, and tragically unhip right now. Ok, I'm mostly joking. But I do judge myself pretty harshly on a daily basis about things like this. I see those happier, better woman on the tram, bus, coffee shop, everywhere but in the mirror. And it isn't just about learning to feel good enough intrinsically anymore (although this should be the main goal). It is about teaching my daughter the same. I mean, she's absolutely adorable (and, conversely, can be a screaming demon) no matter what she's wearing. I love her just the same. And my husband. And my friends. Family. Pretty much everyone gets this pass from me but me.
That's not true. I can be brutal to women on trams and buses. In my head. But (have I written about this before?) I notice so many little details. Now, the step that follows, where I then connect those details to the person's worth, that's the part I'm trying to change. Because I'll always notice a lot. But it doesn't have to turn into America's Next Top Model in my brain.
The trench coat is very quiet at this moment. But I've promised her that even if I do find some hidden spring of confidence, she'll still be going out to see the sights soon. I mean, she's bright orange after all.
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