The Endless Review Process

Welcome to the humiliating world of academic writing, Psyche. Being ahead of the curve is not always so great. As a result of being on the publishing track for your Honours Thesis, you don't know any of the 'unspoken rules' of academic publishing, including: dealing with order of authorship, reporting effect sizes and confidence intervals according to APA guidelines, or dealing with a work study student who may have corrupted your entire data file.

Oh, or the delicate emotions involved in CO-authoring.

I want to be clear. I did the bulk of the work on this paper to get it ready for publication, but there is NO way I would have been able to get it in shape or respond to the demand for revisions without help from three other people: a PhD in my lab, my supervisor, and another person who attached to my lab who guided my rewrite of the lit review. I certainly could not have got it done on time. The other side of the coin though, is that I also would not have suffered from sheer blinding panic where some invisible enemy puts my lungs in a giant vice grip and squeezes for an entire week.

Basically, I got the paper accepted to a journal with major revisions and had two weeks to get things done. Having never done this before, I assumed that a two week deadline was a HARD two week deadline. My supervisor was away on vacay... I had NO idea how to deal with some of the reviewer comments... mind boggling... Sure enough... I panically (wrd?) sent out assertive emails that didn't go over too well with the powers that be... stepped on some toes... you know, all the graceless stuff we tend to do without realizing it while stressed out.

I'm so thankful that there is another person in my lab that I could go to when the stats hit the fan and basically be guided through the delicate emotional rats' nest I had got myself into. You know who you are!!! THANK YOU!

So anyway, this brings me to my point. It AMAZES me how many people in this field really need help negotiating relationships. I've always been pretty good with people being direct with me. "Hey Psyche, I don't like what you just did!" "Okay, let's sit down and talk about it." No problem. When I do start to see problems is when people try to avoid problems/conflict, or try to sugar coat it or tip toe around it. Too many questions are left in my mind. Having already worked as a therapist for 5 years, I have something of an idea of how to word things carefully, how to say what I mean, how to use "I" statements and not accuse. Even so, many people can feel threatened by an assertive communiction style, even when worded "perfectly." There is a lot of sensitivity in this field, apparently.

It gets me thinking about how we are all really defending against something most of the time. Like we are all walking around in transference. It amazes me how many people in psychology don't seem AWARE, not just of their transference - but the fact that they are capable of EXPERIENCING TRANSFERENCE.

It's also interesting that there seems to be a bit of an attitude in this program that one should not be in therapy. Like you have PROBLEM if you go to counselling. It really surprised me. I couldn't imagine not being in therapy and being a therapist. I can't imagine becoming a therapist without having been in therapy. How does one do a good job if they've never experienced it from the other side? How can one deal with one's countertransference without a safe and experienced person in the biz to debrief it with? That's not stuff you want to bring home to your partner or family.

I know it's not like this at every school. But it seems to be the case here. Maybe due to the non-psychodynamic outlook. Psychodynamic theory seems to be quite focused on this kind of experiential learning and support. I really like that style. So it will be interesting. I don't have any kind of practicum or anything this year, and when I do, it will be first with assessments, so not counselling of any kind. Still I wonder what kind of opportunities I will find for that kind of therapy experience? Perhaps I'm lucky that I've already worked at the ORG for so long and had some experience and even freedom to experiment with certain therapeutic techniques (narrative, writing, solution-focused etc...)

I'm also very excited that I am finally getting paid for my TAship this month. It's all going to go on the credit card, but still...

Going Back And Forth

The coincidence that I am TAing for an $Eduational $Psych class while being educated in the same department is not lost on me. I now need to complain about the professor that I hated, then loved, now hate again.

This dude can NOT read an email. Lordy no.

I write to him asking for instructions for how to get a print job done for my students' information sheet. I wait. No answer. I email again saying that I am leaving for work and will not have access to the Internet so he will have to send the print job to his secretary on his own because he has not approved what I have written.

An hour later he writes back to say not to worry, it is on his secretary's computer now.

An hour after that, he writes back to say that I should send it to his secretary.

What part of "I don't have Internet access" or "You need to send this yourself" don't you understand?

Also last night, I have a telephone convo with the other TA who is very upset with how rude this prof was to her because she has another class right before his and can't come to his office a half hour early to pick up his teaching materials. I've already had to let go of my coveted friday morning therapy appointment for this guy. Not liking his 'tude.

But he was so awesomely nice in person... could he just be the worlds worst emailer?

I hope so. Because the other option is largely taken with douchebaggery.

Making A Case For "Retards"

The Almighty has finally smiled upon me as I realize that the Prof for my TAing course is pretty keen, laid back, funny and not interested in me doing a ton of work for him. Jesus, Allah, Budda, I love you all. It went really well today and I think I am going to enjoy working and performing with this prof, Professor Happycat, since his last name is the same as my, constantly purring feline's.

Today he made reference to "Seymour Butts," "Hitlerism," used the phrase, "Freud's little fascist, Jung," and made a case for retards.

Huh?

Well, we are all familiar with the colloquialization of the word "retard" to that of an insult. It is, or at least was not, politically correct to use this term by the time I finished high-school. You know, just like the terms "fag," and "faggot." It's not okay to use these words as an insult or put-down to someone. I talk about this with kids who bully all of the time at the org. I mean, how would they like it if suddenly everyone started to use their name as the new slang insult? "Oh, my god, he's such a DAVID!" Or, "Stop Douging my fries, get your own!" Or even, "Did you see how short her skirt was? What a Yoshi!" You get the point. And sometimes the kid who bullies does too.

So sure enough, when the prof of EDUCATIONAL PSYCH started talking about how we don't want people who are retarded in the military, a few people gave the knee-jerk-i'm-in-university-so-i-know-better disgusted face. And the prof was awesome. "C'mon, don't give me that. It's a diagnostic term in the DSM people, look it up. I'm not insulting the military, I just don't want it full of retarded people."

Bless him.

It's weird for me. I have never felt comfortable with using the terms "fag" or "dyke" or using the phrase, "that's so gay." Probably because I did once with a girlfriend and got tsked within an inch of my life. But I've always been fine with "that's so retarded."

A double standard? Why do I feel comfortable with something that is clearly inappropriate??

[I want to be clear here, I'm questioning WHY I FEEL okay with something that I know is not polite or respectful behaviour. The following does not EXCUSE my habit... I'm trying to understand it first so that I can proceed accordingly.]

I don't know... I mean, homosexuality has not been in the DSM since the second edition? I *think* the third was released in 1980 (but don't quote me on that, and hey, screw you, you're on a computer -- you can look it up as easy as I can and I'm mid-thought right now). So that's like, almost 30 years. Many homosexuals have "reclaimed" these words and under certain circumstances it is fine to say them, provided you know the people you are with and feel confident that THEY are not offended by them. I mean, clearly it's not dinnertime with your new thesis advisor language, but hopefully you understand what I mean. And still, when theonion.com put on their list of top ten resume verbs: "faggoted-up" - I went beet-red and coughed like a polite englishman. But I can say "retarded" till the cows come home, and don't feel any shame or guilt. And that, knowing several retarded children and their parents. Why is that? What is going on with me that I feel bad with one and not the other?

So... back in the classroom now... Prof. Happycat is going on and on and on about all these different tests for retardation and schools and the military and special funding and that we'd better get used to saying the word retarded in his class and that it really means late, a late learner, someone who is literaly delayed in their learning. He turns to mek I'm attempting to synchronize the video/projector/slides/camera/volume all layed out like the lighting board for a Pink Floyd concert, and says, "Oh, are you having trouble?" And I naturally reply, "Yeah, I'm a little retarded."

And I've won them over.

Interesting...

Next week, we're looking at the WISC IV. Looking forward to it and DYING for him to ask me my IQ. Here's a hint: I belonged to Mensa. Here's another: I could qualify for the Triple 9 Society. Huh, and despite that, I couldn't work the freakin' VCR. Just goes to show, intelligence isn't everything.

Maybe that's it. Maybe it is everything in the case for "retards." Maybe the issue is that retardation is so the opposite of me that I'm afraid of it. Maybe I'm afraid that this can happen... using the word colloquially is a way of distancing myself from the whole idea and my discomfort of it. A defense mechanism? It makes sense in terms of what we know about kids who bully... a reaction formation of sorts. I could go into all kinds of psychological reasons why I feel stupid and inadequate sometimes... I could talk about being called stupid as a kid... I can even discuss the fact that despite being identified as gifted, I had horrible social problems as a child and was ostricized (sp?) in a similar way that children who are actually clinically retarded might be by those who are developing typically.

I'm writing this because after the first draft of this post, a friend challenged me on this and I think I have a responsibility to go beyond the first draft of my thoughts. What really does lie behind this for me and why the difference in feeling for me behind these two words? It's not like my life hasn't been touched by both conditions. What does one do when they know intellectually that their behaviour is not appropriate but they are, for some reason, missing the manifest physical cues that tell them so? Or is there something else going on, in that maybe I don't want to take a hard look at this issue because it is really very threatening to me?

And is it safe to talk about anywhere other than the therapy room? (Jeez, I hope so...)

After having meditated on this for a few hours, one thing does stand out to me. I realize that my child-bearing years have peaked and I'm now on a downward slope. I know I would like to have a child but am not sure if it is in the cards. When I think about my friends who have children and see the wide variety of experiences that they have between them, I do feel afraid. I have seen many instances where my friends have had to rethink, reevaluate, and after a long period of mourning, redefine what their parenting experience will be like -- because they have a child or children with special needs. And while I have lots of these children in my life (both personally and professionally), they are not MY CHILD. I know that parents, whether they intend to or not, inadvertantly have "personal hopes" for what their child will "be like." Good parents work through them and try their best not to put their dreams onto their children. It's hard... it can be a challenge for parents to even become aware of when and how they are doing this. So much of it has to be brought into consciousness before the mamoth task of changing parental behaviour can even begin. I've worked with children and teens on this issue, I've worked with parents on this issue - in the counselling environment.

But it has never even approached being personal, until recently. I have never had to stare this particular challenge in the face. And honestly, really absolutely honestly? I don't know that I would have the fortitude, the strength, the resiliance that I have seen an encouraged in others - clients and friends. And I think, that as I approach possible baby-making decisions, THAT scares the bejeezus out of me.

Psyche

For Tomorrow We TA

I already am having TA issues, and the class hasn't even met yet. My prof wants me to come early to help him carry his instruments to the classroom. Normal request, but I have my therapy appointment down town right before this class. I can make it... I have an hour from end of therapy til class starts... but figured I would be a few minutes graced with leeway.

Not so apparently.

I'm not about to tell him that the reason I can't come early is for therapy. My prized friday morning therapy time slot. But what other excuse can I make that will pacify him?

Oh, and he already has me buying bristol board for him. I have a feeling I am about to become an executive assistant type of TA. We shall see?

Oh, and his surname is one of my cats' names. Too funny.

Yeah, but already irked. I never took this course ($educational $psych) in undergrad so I don't even know what to expect really. He will apparently have a textbook waiting for me. Time to earn my money, boys and girls!

I suppose I should also mention the killer stats exam I had on Wednesday? Now, I LOVE math, I even love stats. I get sexually excited about the visual display of quantitative information. And yet, this prof has managed to suck the love of $univariate $stats from me almost completely. The exam was scheduled for 3 hours. No one finished it. Most of us concurred that 5 or 6 hours would have been more suitable. BRUTAL. Killer. In the middle of it he wildly digressed about backgammon and parchesi - assuming that we would all know how to play so that we could compute the probabilities of winning in certain circumstances. Tell me again, how is that related to statistics for the behavioural sciences????

We needed group therapy and several pints before any of us could form coherent sentences.

The problem is that he is a nice, kind, nerdy and pleasant man... and I'm certain a talented reseracher. It's just that, like many profs, he SUCKS as a teacher, but moreso. This is beyond sucking. This is major Hooverism. I worked for half an hour on a question (oh, the exam was worth 170 marks and he did half marks) when I noticed that he had not reported the data in cumulative percentages (as was indicated in the question itself). At that point I seriously wondered what would happen if I just started crying, sobbing and got up and left the room.

Would he even get the idea? I doubted it and held back the hypothetical tears. Fantasies of traumatizing the man still linger. Maybe another day... maybe another day.

I still have to write two more assignments, another exam and a minor paper for Professor Oblivious.

Wish me luck.
How dare ANYONE threaten my love of numbers???