researchers – R3ciprocity Blog

I’m an Associate Professor. But I don’t want to be a Full Professor. I don’t want the accolades. I don’t want the endless push for prestige or citation counts. It’s not that it wouldn’t be nice. That is not what I am saying. It’s just that I have seen too much. I am older now. 45, and with older kids. I have seen my kids encourage others--That matters to me a lot. https://blog.r3ciprocity.com/navigating-academia-as-a-parent-or-caregiver-the-dual-challenge-of-phds-and-parenthood/ I have lived too long in this world to keep pretending that any of that prestige makes me feel whole. I’m not even good at “professoring” in the traditional sense. I don’t play the game well. I have made peace with that. You should meet my family. I like them--That matters to me a lot. What I want now is simpler, quieter: I want my students to feel safe enough to ask the questions they have been afraid to ask. I want my colleagues to feel like they can laugh around me. Really laugh. I want my kids to know that they are seen and heard. My wife to know I am there for her if she gets sick. I want joy—not performative joy for the next keynote or CV line. I mean the kind you feel when someone finally says, “I never thought of it that way.” That’s the real win. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-JgYMTnnzg Parenting and Living Like A PhD I Never Felt Like I Belonged I thought being a professor would make me feel smart. It didn’t. I thought tenure would be the answer. It wasn’t. It is just a sign on the wall. I used to get up at 4 am to write when my kids were small. I couldn’t afford childcare. The only quiet time was before dawn. I lived below the poverty line during my PhD. And even now, with tenure, the fear of not having enough has never fully left me. I remember using teaching clinics for medical and dental care. Arguing with my wife about money, and asking whether we should downsize our home. This life was never glamorous. It didn’t feel like the brochures sold on university websites. I didn’t go to the right schools. I didn’t look like the academic mold. I didn’t fit. And that’s the point. (Here is a great post if you have self-doubts as a PhD) Academia Wasn’t Made for Me—But I Showed Up Anyway I wasn’t confident. I wasn’t polished--people still think I am rather crude at times. I didn’t have a clear plan. I just kept showing up. I still don't. I wasn’t loud. I wasn’t certain. I didn’t have a pedigree. But I built something anyway. Not because I was chosen, but because I refused to disappear. If you’re a first-gen student, if you didn’t go to an Ivy League school, if your life feels more like chaos than clarity: You belong here, too. We don’t need to replicate broken systems. We can build warmer ones. One small act of courage at a time. You don’t need to fit to matter. It's okay. It really is okay. For Those Still in It I’m sharing this for the PhD student who’s broke, exhausted, and wondering if this path will ever make sense. I’m sharing it for the Postdoc who’s applying to jobs and getting silence in return. I’m sharing it for the Assistant Professor whose confidence is being chipped away. Here’s what helped me keep going: 1. Detach your worth from your productivity. You are valuable whether or not you publish, get grants, or get cited. 2. Keep showing up. Quietly. Stubbornly. You don’t need an audience to do something meaningful. Especially when no one is watching—that’s when it counts most. Be ugly. Keep showing up. 3. Don’t wait for permission. You don’t need to wait for someone to validate you. Start building something that matters to you now. From where you are. With what you have. By the time you get permission, they will be long gone. Because here’s what’s true: You’re not behind. You’re just early. https://blog.r3ciprocity.com/is-the-education-system-failing-us-why-the-best-scholars-teach-themselves-everything/ I Don’t Want a Fancy Legacy. I Want a Human One. I want a few students to feel seen. I want someone to say, “Thank you. You were there.” I want my kids to love me. To know that I chose them, too. I want to laugh in the office. I want to dance in the kitchen. I want to teach without fear. Write without posturing. Live without calculating. Maybe I’ll never be a top scholar. But I’ll be at peace. Peace matters more to me now. Because what matters can’t be counted. Give me a curious person. Give me a little joy. Listen to this podcast if you think you are struggling in academia. Let’s build a better version of academia—not the one we inherited, but the one we choose to create. We don’t have to replicate. We can redesign. Together. (Share this with someone who needs to hear it today.)