Diary of a Sociology Student: Why does everything seem so hard?

Returning to postgraduate studies has been difficult. I have been on leave from my thesis for about a year and a half. As I try to think and write with academic rigour, I feel like I am trying to wade through molasses. Why am I not running lithe and smooth, like an athlete? Why do I struggle so hard with words, fiddling clumsily with ill-fitting concepts? What can’t I just remember what I read, for goodness sake?

It is such a change of pace, locking myself away in order to focus on my studies. I miss action. I miss meeting migrants and refugees. I miss attending meetings and learning from fellow activists. I miss the sense of community we have developed through our shared passions. It is a dual change of pace – a deliberate quietening of my body, forcing it to stay still, and a purposeful revving up of my mind, forcing it to read, think, and process information quickly.

Returning to studying is harder than it seems, because I think (automatically) that I am older and wiser than I was when I last put my pen away. I find in fact, that I am unable to do what I did before and need time to develop analytical competences again. I am ashamed of this; I feel like I have regressed in my abilities rather than strengthening them along the way.

Returning is also harder because I have been considered a civil society ‘expert’ on migration in the time that I have been away – being a student again is humbling. At yet, you cannot learn if you think you know everything. The more you read and write, the more aware you are of your ignorance. This is the greatest irony in scholarship.

As I remember some of the ‘great scholars’ I have met over the past few years, I realise that they have some characteristics in common. First of all, they are curious. They are interested in many topics, they ask lots of questions, and they pay attention when people speak. They also demonstrate intellectual humility. They tell you how hard it was for them to write their books and papers (now well regarded); they tell you of the mistakes they made in their analysis. The older ones, nearing retirement, are surprisingly patient and generous. They answer the straightforward questions of a novice without arrogance. They encourage young students to take up the mantle of scholarship. They have a sense of legacy.

Being a student again is difficult. We make it easier for ourselves when we accept this fact. We need to allow ourselves time and space to ‘grow’ into our roles as scholars again. We need to redevelop our intellectual capacities, practice our information processing skills, and read up on current literature, rapidly proliferating. This takes time. We need to give ourselves a chance to catch up.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”

Thirst
Mary Oliver