Green grass all around. . .

The first few weeks of my doctoral program I was asked versions of these questions on a number of occasions: "Why did you come to New Zealand?" "Do you really want to do a Ph.D.?" or "Why aren't you doing your Ph.D. in the United States? They have an amazing doctoral educational system." 

Most recently I was told, "If you want to study the United States, then you need to go home."

It just so happens that I am extremely passionate about the American system: history, government, its existence in its strange republic/democratic form.

The insults about Americans (see my Facebook news feed) have been minor compared to the questions listed above. I've been asking myself the same questions: 
Do I really want to do a PhD?
Do I want to go back to the US to study?
Do I want to stay in New Zealand, study what my committee wants me to study and be completely self-motivated for the next 3 years? Can I be completely self-motivated for the next 3 years?
Can my family, my husband, endure the sacrifices which have been required of them/him?
When is enough, enough?

Ryan and I are often intrigued by the people who think we are so brave. We often feel too vulnerable, too weak for the awkward transition we've taken upon ourselves. Before we came, we definitely had a "grass is greener" mentality, not realizing that the green grass had nothing to do with the fence.

So, I was excited when a former student ask me what it was like to study outside of the United States and wanted to know details about the process since she was thinking of engaging in a similar adventure.  I was excited because I finally had a place to share all the "little" surprises about living in New Zealand. 

This is what I wrote her:

PhD's outside the US are completely different. No coursework, no classroom. They are called research degrees because that is exactly what you are doing--researching, you're own ideas AND the "stuff" your supervisory panel wants you to research.

To apply, you submit an initial research proposal, the faculty read the proposal and then professors in the department decide if they want to research with you or not. If they don't, it's the end of the road. It's a mentor system, sort of an academic apprenticeship. If you don't know the faculty you'll be working with, you'll be mentored by strangers. There are pros and cons to this. In the States you'll get to solicit (if they're available) who is on your supervisory committee; in this model, you do not. (The educational model is amazingly "top-heavy;" highly bureaucratic and subjective---lots of that you'll get in the States too. Here, people are incredibly difficult to access. Lots and lots of gatekeepers to maintain the hierarchy.)

I thought it would be a more independent model, which is what I liked and why I wanted to apply. And it is. . .so independent that if you don't work for a month, that's your problem and natural consequences will inevitably result. But, it's also an illusion. Everyone I've spoken to has had to adjust their research to meet the needs of their supervisory committee. It's sort of like, "You pick the topic and then you'll research it how I want you to research it." No kidding. . .this week my supervisory panel told me what my research questions would be. I didn't get to decide them for myself. 

In New Zealand "being independent" is beyond the educational model as well. I am considered an international student but have had NO support from the International Student office. Because I speak English, SO much is assumed about what I should know about the educational model most of it I do NOT KNOW.  Silly things like: "No the rec center is not for students, it's a private company close to campus. You can sign up for a discounted membership." Gratefully, I had an Irish immigrant that works on campus tell me, "Kiwis won't explain anything to you. They'll let you flounder and learn it for yourself. It's really hard on our international students." Her explanation is what is helping me stay sane. I tell myself, "It's all part of the culture" (organizational and local).

Migrants are truly and intentionally kept on the peripheral edges of the society in this city. I say intentionally because we've had government employees consistently share this sentiment with us. "Don't plan on getting a job because the locals don't like to hire migrants." As a side note, most of the people we've met are children of immigrants. Weird! (Going to write an autoethnographic piece about this using standpoint theory, at some point).

Whew, tangent. . .so after the initial research proposal, if "they" like it, you'll receive an acceptance offer. The acceptance offer is actually an offer of conditional enrollment. Conditional enrollment is a 6 month probationary period where the student writes a full research proposal. Again. . .there is a weird passive-aggressiveness in this process. Everyone I've spoken to will work fairly well and uneventfully for the first 4 months and inevitably will be whammed with extreme changes to their proposal last minute at the request of their supervisory panel and sometimes in direct conflict with their supervisory panel.

This is not a system for people (like myself) who do not like uncertainty (working on adjusting that).

At 6 months, the student defends the research proposal. By this point, you will know if you are motivated enough to do this "type" of PhD or not. At my first supervisory committee meeting (they happen as frequently as the student chooses), one of my committee members asked, "Do you even want to do a PhD?" (All I could think was, "Wow, thanks for the self-doubt question?") Like I said, you'll know by the end if the 6 months if the system is for you--frankly, I doubt this for myself.

I was surprised, but that's what's interesting about this, it is emotionally and mentally stretching from the beginning. I've been in my conditional enrollment for 1 month. I have rewritten the first 7 pages 3 times. I started over again yesterday. (Oh, and never mind, the family drama that's going on behind the scenes as well.)

After the student has finished his/her conditional enrollment period (which can be extended beyond 6 months) and have survived their research defense, s/he is actually enrolled in the program. It's from this point the PhD can take 3-4 years. Only 50% of the people I have met fit in this requirement. I'm noticing the average is 4-5 years.  Of course, while your researching, you’re supposed to be publishing and doing conferences on side subjects.  So, it’s a weird independent study/dissertation/learn everything you can. . .something. . .I’m still finding it a bit foreign.

Once the research is done—the  3-6 years is complete—and your committee is happy with your work, they send your research to two experts in the field. The final defense/oral exam is with the field experts with whom you are required to have no contact with during the course of your doctoral work.  They read it, interrogate you on whatever they want and then THEY (the experts you do not know and have not been working with) decide if you've done sufficient research. Once the research is completed to the satisfaction of "the experts" and the defense has concluded, THEN you receive the award of PhD.

It’s strangely simple and complex at the same time.  AND, depending on where you were to go, would determine how supportive the environment actually is. In New Zealand, they pride themselves on being “supportive” PhD programs. The European systems, I am hearing from individuals who have studied there, have a completely different pedagogy: i.e. the student "must be humbled” throughout their doctoral candidacy. 

This, of course, is completely separate from the cultural adjustments, etc. As you know, the organizational culture of the school is going to be different, although influenced, by the local culture.

I was telling Ryan, if I was going to do this all over again, I would have done a certificate of some kind first, to decide if I liked the educational system and the local culture or not.

As far as living in another culture, it is pretty awesome and enlightening. It's a blast to meet new people who are generally kind and sincerely motivated to help others.

Financially, it’s a completely different issue. All the students I have associated with have struggled, no matter their family situation. As migrants in another county, the services and rights you are accustomed to do not exist.  For example, Ryan cannot find a job in his field or any decent job because there is a HUGE government campaign in New Zealand to “hire a Kiwi”first. Sucks. It sucks way more than I thought it would.  There is financing available through scholarships (usually AFTER the conditional enrollment period); honestly, depending on the school, you can even get US Stafford loans.

Another reality are visas. Every country would be different. In NZ, we can only have 1 year visas with a potential of 3-4 years of study. It can get complicated really fast. In order for our family to stay in New Zealand beyond August of next year, we will be required to reapply for our visas. Since we are not in the United States (where applications are free) we will have to pay around $2000 for our visa applications. IF, I do not have funding and Ryan doesn't have a better job, our  visas will be denied ($15000 per student visas x 4 people on student visas = yep, deployment).

On paper, the tuition seems cheap and the educational process seems fast;  I can study in NZ for 5,000 a year, or I can study from a distance for $25000 a year. But the cost of living here completely offsets the “cheap” cost of education.  I paid $5 NZD for 1 lb of pinto beans. Even with the exchange rate, that’s still $4 for a pound of beans.  Take something like electricity: in the States you pay about 10 cents a kilowatt; in New Zealand we pay 25 cents a kilowatt. There are HUGE benefits to living in a large economy (even if the government makes dumb choices, it’s still a wonderful country).

Honestly, now that I’m here, it's sometime hard to justify why I’m here. It’s been weird, and very different than I expected. I don’t regret coming because of the cultural experience, but I would have done it completely differently.

Like I mentioned before, I would have done a study abroad FIRST or a certificate to see if I liked the educational system or not.  Another option to living abroad, is getting a job abroad first and then move. In that case, you won’t have to worry about the financial weirdness, but you’ll still have the cultural experience and have visas associated with your needs.

For me, the real  question is: do you really want to live abroad or do you want to travel abroad for extended period of times? Slightly different objectives and perspectives.

Attend to the grass where you are.