This isn’t the blog I was expecting to write today.
I wanted to discuss Australia’s aging population and introduce the topic of residential aged care facilities but we had a visiting academic and I took the opportunity to make some new connections and joined the team for morning tea.
I wanted to discuss Australia’s aging population and introduce the topic of residential aged care facilities but we had a visiting academic and I took the opportunity to make some new connections and joined the team for morning tea.
I listened, fascinated, as they talked about their experiences as parents, raising young children, private schools, and backyard hens. The conversation turned to children's birthday parties and hand-made birthday cakes and the joy such celebrations bring.
At the risk of sounding maudlin, we didn’t have birthday cakes in our family. Mine was a poor family, we struggled to make ends meet and birthday cakes were a luxury we couldn't afford.
As I listened to these women I felt so…other. They were from a world I knew nothing about. Although we all shared the common point of postgraduate research, I felt like a complete and utter fraud. I didn’t belong here.
At that point, it dawned on me. I was experiencing ‘imposter syndrome’.
As I listened to these women I felt so…other. They were from a world I knew nothing about. Although we all shared the common point of postgraduate research, I felt like a complete and utter fraud. I didn’t belong here.
At that point, it dawned on me. I was experiencing ‘imposter syndrome’.
My supervisor warned me that imposter syndrome was very common. Imposter syndrome is commonly described as ‘the fear that someday someone will discover you are not the person everyone thought you were’ (1).
What surprised me was the way in which I felt like an imposter. I expected that I would feel academically inferior. I was prepared for that moment when I was facing a complex statistical analysis and started telling myself “I can’t do this, I’m not smart enough”.
That’s not what happened.
What surprised me was the way in which I felt like an imposter. I expected that I would feel academically inferior. I was prepared for that moment when I was facing a complex statistical analysis and started telling myself “I can’t do this, I’m not smart enough”.
That’s not what happened.
I’ve always been what is politely referred to “lower class”, less politely we are called "bogan trash".
I was forced to leave home at fifteen, this meant giving up high school in favour of work. Where once I had dreamed of going to university I was working at Hungry Jacks. Instead of a career, I had children.
All of my life I have lived below the poverty line, sometimes surviving on welfare but mostly making ends meet on a single income.
I felt socially inferior.
I was forced to leave home at fifteen, this meant giving up high school in favour of work. Where once I had dreamed of going to university I was working at Hungry Jacks. Instead of a career, I had children.
All of my life I have lived below the poverty line, sometimes surviving on welfare but mostly making ends meet on a single income.
I felt socially inferior.
I compared myself to these incredibly accomplished and respected women and I felt like a second-class citizen.
The phrase “you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear” clanged through my brain. You cannot produce something refined, admirable and valuable from something which is unrefined, unpleasant or of little value (2).
When I caught those thoughts I realised what I was experiencing was more nuanced, and far more insidious, than imposter syndrome. I was experiencing internalised stigma (3).
I was repeating to myself the same classist and discriminatory comments I had heard my entire life. When I let this sink in I had an epiphany. It wasn't that I didn't belong, I was simply under-represented.
The phrase “you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear” clanged through my brain. You cannot produce something refined, admirable and valuable from something which is unrefined, unpleasant or of little value (2).
When I caught those thoughts I realised what I was experiencing was more nuanced, and far more insidious, than imposter syndrome. I was experiencing internalised stigma (3).
I was repeating to myself the same classist and discriminatory comments I had heard my entire life. When I let this sink in I had an epiphany. It wasn't that I didn't belong, I was simply under-represented.
Going through my undergrad degree in Nutrition and Dietetics I was keenly aware that I was the largest person in the room. I eventually understood this didn't mean I was in the wrong place but rather, there is a lack of diversity in our profession.
I realised today that my history didn't mean I was in the wrong place.
Although it might be uncommon for a previously uneducated middle-aged woman from a lower class background to undertake postgraduate studies, that was not an indicator that I do not belong. Quite the opposite, in fact. It told me how very important it was that I am there, representing others like me.
I realised today that my history didn't mean I was in the wrong place.
Although it might be uncommon for a previously uneducated middle-aged woman from a lower class background to undertake postgraduate studies, that was not an indicator that I do not belong. Quite the opposite, in fact. It told me how very important it was that I am there, representing others like me.
If you don't see anyone who could be your role model that means you (yes, you) are going to be a role model for someone else. I think that's incredible. Lonely and challenging perhaps, but incredible.
I invite you to share the words of the talented Shane Koyczan with me.
(1) http://geekfeminism.wikia.com/wiki/Impostor_syndrome
(2) https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/make_a_silk_purse_of_a_sow%27s_ear
(30 https://www.mentalhealth.org.nz/assets/ResourceFinder/individual-self-stigma-resource-card-4.pdf
Image courtesy of Pexels.
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