New Prospects, Old Worries...

One year ago, I was deep into the production and composition of my thesis. Little else mattered. I churned out chapter after chapter, sending it to my adviser for review and then taking it back for revisions. It was a weird type of purgatory; for even though I was steadily whittling down the faults and cracks in my writing, it always felt like I was "busy going nowhere." The work of writing and revising was constant, but the product I made never seemed to measure up. Then it happened. My prof. emailed me an approval for my manuscript in the late Spring and I was approved to publicly defend my thesis and prepare for Summer graduation. Defending led to approval by the thesis editor which led to graduation. I still remember the day that I received my diploma in the mail; I sat and stared at my Master's degree, wondering if the time I had invested into its acquisition was worth it. It's the kind of introspection that I imagine Niccolo Machiavelli must have had after writing The Prince or Henry David Thoreau after writing Walden. A point where each author must look at its creation and ask, "OK, now what?"

For me, the answer was easy. I had applied to several jobs, PhD programs and law schools in anticipation that I was bound to get at least one of them. I have never been more wrong in all my life. All of my prospects dried up like autumn leaves. Refusals came in waves with each letter signifying another closed door. When the new academic year rolled around, things were at rock-bottom. No job offers, no PhD prospects and no way out of SLC. It was a time that I've come to call "The Summer of Fail," for lack of better words. Christ, what a dark time. I could barely look Lisa in the face and the unfaltering love and respect from my children only made me feel more wretched. If they couldn't count on me, then who?

Thankfully, all was not lost. My adviser offered me a year of funding for the U's PhD program.
It was a year of elbow-room to try again...A second chance to get on my feet.

I've since made the most of my mulligan. I've traveled to (my third) GEOINT and set wheels in motion for a shot at a job. I've been in touch with potential advisers at good, quality political geography schools in hopes that one of them will be impressed by who I am and what I can offer. I'm even in the process of trying to publish the old thesis and present my findings at next year's AAG meeting in NYC. I'd like to think that I'm better prepared for the application processes this time around, but there's a quiet nagging in the back of my mind that takes me back to the SoF and its lost opportunities. Who's to say the outcome of my last batch of apps won't be replicated? What makes this go-around different than the Summer of 2011? What if history repeats itself? Exactly how many times can I pick myself up after hitting the ground?

It makes me shudder to think about it. This type of doubt always creeps in and damages part of my resolve before I can catch it. But writing about it like this, it helps. It helps when I identify and keep these fears at arm's reach. Not necessarily so I can "understand" what's at stake. Trust me, after being a parent for twelve years, I know exactly what I've got to lose. No. Knowing the stakes allows me to prepare. It allows me to dig in and put contingencies in place. I will not be caught off guard, regardless of the outcome.

And deep down I know that, unless I'm dead, I will get up after every fall. I will recover from every setback. I will regroup and soldier on. It's a strength given to me from my family.

Now comes the tough part...Having to rely on others for my advancement.
Here goes nothing.

Willie Colon said it best:
"Si el destino me vuelve a traicionar
te juro que no puedo fracasar
estoy cansado de tanto esperar
y estoy seguro que mi suerte cambiara
pero ¿cuando será?"