I thought my summer would consist of an easy transition back into the 9 to 5 world. I was fortunate to have a job, working for a company that I truly adored and on a project that felt inspiring and important. This new transition meant that I would not have to balance the weight of school and work, something that was so hard during the past two years of graduate school because I was equally fulfilled and committed to both endeavors. My post graduate life meant that I would at last have time for the gym and happy hours. Finally I could forego the required reading (that I never skimped on) and the weekend papers, which I meticulously crafted so they were perfect. I could always attend the staff meetings, never having to leave for a class or lab. I thought everything would be grand during this transition, after all, now I’d made it into the club of colleagues with the esteemed MPH. No longer an imposter, I had succeeded (in my mind) and certainly everyone would recognize that my years of hard work and now a graduate degree meant that new doors would open and bigger paychecks would ensue.
Just two days after graduation, I returned to work with enthusiasm and a chip on my shoulder. To my surprise, apart from the water cooler congratulations, the only real difference was that I was working 40 hours a week instead of the 20/25 I’d been holding down in graduate school. There were no shooting fireworks, no gold plates with my name in big, bright letters and not even newly printed business cards showcasing one of the biggest accomplishments of my life. Something felt very out of place. It was like for two years I had been cresting the large hill of a roller coaster and there was no exciting decent. I was just there, like it hadn’t happened at all. Had I expected too much?
After a few weeks, I emerged into a sort of depression. I had put two years of my life on hold, having completely succumbed to graduate school and the world of public health. Old friendships faded. I missed family holidays. I bailed on girls weekends with college friends. And what did I have to show for it except a piece of paper and thousands of dollars in student loans.
This melancholy perspective continued for weeks. Never did I regret plunging into public health or dedicating two steadfast years of my life in pursuit of an advanced degree but something was off. By expecting some monumental shift, I was loosing my grip on why I do what I do.
Then one week, in late August, I had some inspired conversations. Perhaps meaningless to those around me, these discussions revealed something I needed to see. Public health – or specifically reproductive health – was alive, and I was a part of the mix. There are women needing services and I had good ideas on how to help them. People asked me about my opinions and they listened when I talked. This passion that I have for family planning emerged and suddenly I was alive again, regaining that grip that I was frightfully loosing. There was no big bang that was going to happen post graduate school but the culmination of little yet important fireworks to light the fire in me.
About this time I started conducting some data analysis of DHS reports, looking at trends in unmet need, fertility rates and contraceptive use. I was running numbers alongside health worker density ratios and making scatter plots to see what kind of story emerged from the intersections of these data. This was work, it was fun and I could physically feel the knowledge I’d gained in graduate school put to good use.
There is no exciting ending to my summer. Despite some really lovely vacations (Chicago, Outer Banks), I let my summer slip by. There were days I felt inspired but most days I just felt that professionally something was empty. I’d rather be honest than share glossy tales of exciting workdays post grad school. Not to say there were not good moments - there were and I have learned a lot in these transition months. I know there will be more exciting days ahead in my career and certainly more woes.
In a final reflective moment, I don’t recall caring as much about how I felt about my career before graduate school. I think I learned to care so much more after dedicating myself to pursing my MPH and holding down a job that is so important to me. The knowledge I gained over the past two years both in school and on the job was extremely motivating to me so that I could do my best to improve health, especially in developing countries. This is a powerful revelation. I have developed quite a relationship with this world of public health and it is so much more than a job. This summer I learned that I really care about my career and what contributions I can make to better the lives of my fellow global citizens. I learned to get off my “high-horse” about what I expect the big man owes me just because I have a Masters degree. I know in my heart that I am a much better worker and far better person because of the work I have done the past two years. Who would have thought that I had to experience a blasé of a summer to learn just how much I care about my career?
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