The Grass Is Always Greener

A few weeks ago, I ran into a classmate that I've always thought of as my Grad School Nemesis. She asked me, "Have you published any articles yet?"

She knew very well that I haven't. In academia, it's very important that you publish articles in academic journals that nobody else but other scholars read. The titles of the articles are stuff like "Daddy Issues in Frankenstein" and "If You Use Enough Academic Jargon, Everyone Will Think You're Smarter than They Are" and "A Marxist (Over) Analysis of the Economic Hierarchy in The Great Gatsby." (Okay. So those aren't the real titles. But they might as well be, if you've ever read the articles.)

I was tempted to respond, "I haven't published any articles yet, but I have learned some very effective moves in my kick-boxing class. Allow me to demonstrate," or "If your head keeps getting bigger, you're going to start scaring people into thinking that you're Godzilla."

Grad School Nemesis went on to brag about the articles that she'd published in academic journals and the prestigious conferences that she'd been to. She knows that I haven't accomplished as much as she has in our field, which I think is one reason why she always makes sure that I know all about how well she's doing.

I've never been a very good scholar. I was always more interested in teaching, partly because it's the one job I've ever had that I'm actually good at. My students drive me up the wall sometimes, but I keep showing up in the classroom every day because that's where I want to be. It makes me think of the movie Tenure. Luke Wilson plays a college professor who is pressured to publish more academic articles and books in order to get tenure, but he's a better teacher than he is a scholar. Watching that movie made me feel better, because it made me feel like I'm not the only person who struggles in academia.

I've been feeling depressed lately because of the fact that it's going to take me an extra year to complete my Ph.D., especially because my graduate funding will run out next year. So it doesn't help when people like my Grad School Nemesis keep bragging about how they're doing better than I am and then make condescending comments about how I've failed to measure up.

It's one thing to feel jealous of people you don't know. I wrote a post a while ago about how I felt jealous of Snooki, because she got a book deal (and now I hear she's got ANOTHER book deal), even though she's not really a writer. She just lets someone else do the writing for her. But it's another thing to feel jealous of people you do know, because it hits close to home. In the back of your mind you keep thinking, "If they can succeed, why can't I?" And that makes it even harder to accept it when you don't get what you want, while they keep getting what they want.

Anne Lamott wrote a very good chapter about jealousy in her book Bird by Bird. She said that it was normal to feel jealous, and it was also okay to not feel happy for the people that you're jealous of. We are only human after all, and everyone has their limits. Reading it made me realize how insensitive people like my Grad School Nemesis are, especially because they know how I've been having a hard time just trying to keep up with everyone else. I might not be able to tape the lips shut of my Grad School Nemesis, but I can limit my interactions with her so that I don't have to listen to her anymore. And that's something, at least.

Are there people in your life who constantly brag about their accomplishments? How do you deal with it when you feel jealous?