Letter to My PhD Advisor

Farewell academia (for now)

To My PhD Advisor:

I’m sorry you haven’t heard much from me since I completed my general exam. Every day, I reach for the dissertation I proposed in January and find myself unable to “lock in” and access my enthusiasm for doing science in the same way that I did before. 

Before this week, I still believed that there wasn’t anything in the Epstein files that I “didn’t already know.” Yet, I am now watching both my outer and inner worlds shatter as our society confronts its history of sexual violence through buried emails at the same time that I am uncovering my own through buried memories. And, through this gradual-yet-rapidly-accelerating uncovering, I am also realizing how the cycles of trauma and oppression that perpetuated my abuse were used, and even created by, the same system that brutalized these girls. Here I am confidently but also nervously using the word “system” in place of the less-threatening “bad people” because what I am learning is that all of these evil men are just the latest heirs to a system built on patriarchy, capitalism, and imperialism—the three of which are inextricably tied in ways that those in power have tried to obfuscate. 

Despite this and the other horrors of totalitarian rule, I try my best to show up to campus everyday for our students, for you, and for the part of me that loves science. But, if I’m being honest, it’s becoming harder and harder to “show up” everyday and pretend like none of this is happening. Whereas I used to worry that made me a bad graduate student or a bad scientist, I am now starting to wonder if I’ve just been conditioned to feel that way by a system that was carefully and intentionally crafted by these men to always minimize harm perpetuated against women, immigrants, and other marginalized groups. And when I see all the women around me express the same version of self-doubt, it suddenly becomes clear how the harmful and violent acts facilitated by Jeffrey Epstein have echoes across space in time—closely mirroring the harm and violence I have experienced in my own relationships within academia, in my personal life, and in my upbringing. Maybe we were never meant to “lock in” to a system that wasn’t built for us.

The ties between science and power I am discovering aren’t just abstract theories, they’re carefully laid plans communicated through sloppy sentences like “good work. thx.” (in reference to a HuffPost article that centered private donors aka billionaires as the antidote to Trump’s war on science)

There’s a level of absurdity and disbelief when we see how the rich and powerful talk about us like we’re sheep being herded to certain conclusions; we scientists, after all, are trained to be skeptical and critical. But when I reflect on how Epstein’s influence spans (present) across MIT, climate, and even apparently Trump’s “war on science,” it’s hard not to feel like my entire academic career has been entrenched in all this horrific shit (pardon my language). And, while I may at some point have been able to delude myself into thinking I could be a force for good within a broken system, how can I possibly justify moving forward for the sake of a science, an institution, that so clearly supports and is supported by the whims, will, and deception of the rich and powerful. 

How horrific is it that, as an undergrad at MIT, I so easily swallowed the explanation the administration provided for the Media Lab’s ties to Epstein. 

And how sickening is it to realize that I was predisposed (or perhaps, more accurately, preconditioned) to accept that because of what I witnessed as a young girl coming of age during the #MeToo movement (which emails show Jeffrey Epstein was also deeply invested in). Somewhere along the line, I came to genuinely believe that men were the real victims of sexual misconduct allegations. That to simply name harm was to fire a loaded gun into a room full of good and innocent men. 

And so when my first boyfriend got upset at me for “trying to cancel him”after I expressed discomfort after sex, I accepted that I had crossed some dangerous (for him) societal boundary. And so when more and more uncomfortable situations arose and my own boundaries were disrespected, I never allowed myself to even think words Iike “abuse” “manipulation” “coercion” “violated”—instead choosing the safer option: masking my discomfort with words like “toxic” “unhealthy” and focusing on the cheating (a harm that was undeniable) to justify my breaking up with him. 

In the same way, I only want to tell you about all the verifiable, undeniable interactions that made me want to quit my PhD—the macroaggressions. But the truth is, those macroaggressions were made possible by the accumulation of many microaggressions that tested my compliance and maintained a constant level of fear. 

Even now, I don’t allow myself to use words like “racist” to describe uncomfortable exchanges like the one below:

Instead, I opt for more crowd-friendly adjectives like “bizzare” and “weird” that point out personality “quirks” rather than harm. 

I’m not telling you this because my leaving is your fault or something you can change by doing something differently. If anything, your support and acceptance of me as I am throughout these past few years has changed my life and confidence in ways I wish other graduate students could also experience. Letting go of the bad also means letting go of all the ways you have shown me science can be fun, curiosity-driven, and collaborative. And I am heartbroken to leave it all behind. But I have to be honest about how this is all affecting me and the ways in which systemic issues cannot be separated from the harm I experience by merely trying to exist and persist within academic spaces. 

And you might warn me that even if I leave the PhD I can’t escape from these harmful systems. And you would 100% be right. But I’m also starting to question this old-school-indentured-servitude-like-contract grad students and academics sign onto where success in career depends on one single person or, at best, institution. Although we can never truly escape from systems like capitalism, patriarchy, and racism, academia is set up to force us to accept and endure SITUATIONS AND PEOPLE, not just systems. And this is not to say that academia is unique in this violence, but rather just to point out the difference between personal, structural, and systemic harm (see graphic):

For me, to go on would mean continuing to stay silent when people steal my things, make derogatory statements about women and students of color, and violate my boundaries in a myriad of other micro- and macro- ways. To go on would mean continuing to support and encourage my fellow students while ultimately having no power to make systemic change. In sum, it’s a feature not a bug. 

Does this mean I’m going to give up on being a scientist? While I cannot be one in the structures that exist now, I choose to remain hopeful that academic institutions and the men that created them do not own the practice of science (try as they might) and remember that my ancestors and the indigenous people of the world have and will continue to practice science long before and long after the rise and fall of our self-serving Western institutions. 

What’s my plan for the future? I’m not sure, but I think I need to give myself permission to slow down for the first time in my life and allow myself to not be sure. To consider other ways of being “Lily” or, as adrienne maree brown puts it, to dream and to free myself from the “trappings of someone else’s imagination”. What this looks like in practice probably involves a lot of questioning why things are the way they are and taking the time to think deeply and test different hypotheses as you have taught me. I want to figure out how to remain curious and joyful and kind while also being angry and empathetic and sad and fearful. And I’m now realizing that all of those things can coexist when you stop “accepting the things you cannot change” (Angela Davis).  

To start, I’m challenging a core assumption I subsumed early in life: stability comes from staying in academia. In the past year, I have been fortunate enough to find people, communities, and spaces within my city that make it feel like home. And while I met many (but not all) of these lovely humans through academia, our friendships transcend our work identities and roles within society. And so, I challenge myself: if I love this city, love living here, love the places and the people, why shouldn’t I try to find ways to set down roots? One way that my imagination has been limited by the structure academia imagines is this idea that I need to wait to find joy and stability and happiness and fulfillment. As we get shuttled around from institution to institution in the beginning of our careers, we are taught that community and identity are tied to our career--the only thing that is permanent in an academic’s life. Again, a feature not a bug. 

Despite feeling like I have outgrown the degraded systems and structures that define academia, I feel that it’s important for me to end this letter by saying that, despite it all, I loved my time in academia. There’s a common misconception that people who leave their PhDs or academia “didn’t like science enough,” didn’t work hard enough, got too burned out, or were disagreeable in some fundamentally incompatible way. I used to believe that narrative too because it allowed me to believe that as long as I worked hard enough and enjoyed science enough I could still “make it.” That I had something the others didn’t (spoiler alert: it was trauma). And so, because I know many of the people in this story will try to spin it otherwise, I want to say loud and clear: I love teaching, I love my department and its people, I love science, I love going to conferences, I love meeting new people, I love mentoring, I love my project, I love running climate models and asking questions and, not to brag, but I know I was pretty good at it too. The problem is, while I was good at all these things, the things I enjoyed the most were the things the system actively suppressed. And it has always been that most amazing/kind/generous/supportive scientists and graduate students I know are the ones who suffer the most. And what was supposed to be the light at the end of this long tunnel—the end goal of the scientific enterprise isn’t some noble pursuit of either theoretical or even *shudders* applied knowledge but rather the generation of capital, just in a different and more deceiving form. And worst, we academics are fed this delusional exceptionalist mindset that the supposed benefits of our work to society and ourselves is worth the human cost, and that we should be grateful and happy while being paid 20 hours a week to work 40+ hours at all times. I reject the tempting but poisonous expectation to embrace the role of a bitter and angry woman and all of the other false binaries that keep us from seeing one another.

May we remain tender and kind, angry and joyful, sad and hopeful as we learn and unlearn more and more:

With love,

Lily <3

—-

WARNING

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME

And Other Author’s Notes

1: This is not a declaration of war but a love letter to all of the brilliant amazing scientists who I watched leave academia and anyone else who has been made to feel like they’re not “scientist” enough. You were never the problem and let’s see if they will try to explain me away too :) 

After all, who would voluntarily choose to enter into such an exploitative contract unless they were genuinely interested in science/teaching/research/mentoring and believed that it would bring joy and meaning to their lives and others. We may have willingly entered into this relationship, but did so after being shown example after example of how academia “solved” racism and sexism and being told the promise of DEI committees and department initiatives. Again, this is a no shame space, and we should give ourselves the grace to recognize we simply did not have all the information to give informed consent.

And the people were never truly the problem either, at least not the ones that tried to help—it was always about the structure. But when the people refuse to topple over structures that support abuse, then two become indistinguishable in shadow. 

And so I am angry and I am quitting, but I am also filled with joy and hope that someday I can return to being a scientist with all of you, whether it’s in this building or another system.

2: This letter is not meant to be advice for any graduate students experiencing similar sorts of existential crises. I am still in the process of learning and unlearning and the more I learn the more I unlearn and then learn more. So let’s leave the shame at the door and just treat these ramblings as food for thought. If you do want guidance for your personal existential crisis, I recommend reading words written by people who have been thinking about this much longer than me. Here are some of the ones that have helped me stay sane:

• What My Bones Know by Stephanie Foo

• Blood Over Bright Haven by M. L. Wang

• Babel by R. F. Kuang

• Katabasis by R. F. Kuang

• Living a Feminist Life by Sara Ahmed

• Play the Game. Change the Game. Leave the Game. by James Livingston

• Disordered Cosmos by Chanda Prescod-Weinstein

• Emergent Strategy by adrienne maree brown

• Year of the Tiger by Alice Wong

3: To my friends and mentors and therapists who have sat through dozens of values cards and various versions of these thoughts, thank you. You have changed my life and given me the hope and the courage to be brave and kinder to myself and others. And in turn, I see how I have turned that energy into a positive force for change back in your lives and the lives of others you may never meet. We are all in these networks of influencing and being influenced by one another through our individual relationships, and it lends me to believe that we are perhaps more powerful than we think.

4: If you are reading this and immediately thinking about how you can solve my discomfort. First of all, thank you, truly. I know it comes from a place of care and deep empathy but also I promise I am okay!! What I ask from you is to pause for 10 seconds, just 10, and sit with the discomfort and feeling of “things are bad”. Because they are. After doing so, instead of looking at my situation, look around you and try to find the same patterns and try to think about ways that you can improve your environment by helping those around you. While systemic change is necessary to achieve justice, I do believe we could get there more easily if we just tried to be kind, brave, and honest with those around us. If this is hard for you, I highly recommend therapy (or, alternatively, Heated Rivalry). 

5: On that note, I don’t use any full names in my story because it doesn’t really matter who I am nor who any of these people are. There are people like me and men like them are all around you. And to all the men in my life who have always believed, supported, and accepted me as I am—thank you for showing me that I can and should expect better. You have changed my life and I have carried that positive force for change to the lives of those around me as well <3