practical phd

a transparent source for all things PhD

About a month ago, I realized I had stopped planning somewhere along my tenure journey.  With the pressure to produce, I was so focused on individual articles, I had lost sight of the big picture.  So I set out to fix that and get back to a systematic, strategic approach to my research work.

Strategic planning should be a regular part of our work.  Like a nonprofit or research center, academics have a vision and mission for their research work.  This means we need to take the time to define what we’re aiming to accomplish and assess how the work we’re doing and have planned fits into that vision.

In my planning process, I started with what Cathy Mazak calls an academic mission statement.  As Mazak describes, “The big idea here is to clarify and articulate your mission, then line up all your activities so that they are serving this mission.”  The mission is an overarching guide that should be used to organize the rest of your work.  Just as a nonprofit might have a mission to alleviate child poverty in the U.S. by 2050, you can have a mission that drives your work as an academic.  In fact, as Mazak talks about frequently on her podcast, you should use your mission to identify what work you should say yes and no to.  That was the first thing I did after crafting my mission statement by reviewing all of my research projects and ideas with the question “Does the topic align with my mission statement?”

While my mission statement focused on the kind of scholarship I wanted to produce, I was also thinking about my goals for how I wanted to produce scholarship.  Here, I thought about how I work best, drawing on Michelle Boyd’s writing metaphor and her book Becoming the Writer You Already Are.  For example, data analysis is the part of the research process that brings me the most joy, so while it may be necessary to outsource data analysis for some projects because I do not have time to do all of the data analysis, I would like to always have data analysis work to do myself to have those moments of pure joy in the research process.  

The other aspect of how I do research that I tackled was thinking about how research gets done.  Out of necessity to keep research moving forward towards tenure, I have taken on more solo research than I originally thought I would do as a faculty member.  In stepping back to plan for the future, I want to have a balance of research projects that (1) I lead, (2) I collaborate on with peers, and (3) I lead in a mentored research project with graduate students.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what a reasonable workload looks like moving forward.  Here, I turned to the common advice to tenure-track professors at research institutions to always have 2 articles under review at any time.  What isn’t commonly discussed is what the rest of your research pipeline should look like to accomplish this goal due to differences in how faculty approach the research process (see prior paragraph).  Without any clear guidance on this, I got stuck on this point for a bit.  I talked to my frolleagues (friend-colleagues) about what they thought they would need in the writing and data analysis stages to maintain a goal of 2 articles under review.  I also looked at my current research pipeline (which is frankly clogged with too much in writing stage) in search of an answer.  I landed on an answer that is personal to the kind of research that I do and aim to do, which is solo and collaborative with small teams of up to 4, and includes both article and book writing (I count each book chapter as an article): 2 articles under review (or chapters out for feedback), 3 in writing stage, and 3 in data analysis or collection stage.  To be transparent, this is not a tested ratio, so I cannot say whether it is effective or not, but I will see over time.  

With my mission statement, writing metaphor, thoughts on how I want to do research, and goals for my research pipeline, I wrote tenets for my research work and strategies for how to achieve each of them.  This included tenets like “Collaborations produce stronger research” with strategies like “Approach frolleagues about joining existing and future research projects,” so that each tenet has a clear list of strategies that I can use to implement it.

This process is experimental and on-going, so the last thing that I have implemented, and perhaps the most important, is reflection and revision.  I started a research journal where I work through each of these parts of the process, reflect weekly on how the changes I’m trying to make are going, and think through new parts to this strategic planning process as I realize the need for something else.  

How are you reflecting on your research process and goals?

As I worked on the first article I submitted for peer review, I was given the advice to submit my draft article to a journal to get more feedback.  The logic was that I had workshopped the paper with several experts and it would be helpful to get fresh eyes on the paper.  Submitting it to a journal for peer-review would provide additional feedback from a different group of experts in the area.  I’m not sure how common this kind of advice is, but I’m sure some of you have heard this before.  So should you use peer-review to get feedback?  Ultimately, the choice is yours, but let me share a few things I didn’t know about the process at the time I was given that advice to help you decide what to do.

First and most importantly, getting rejected from a journal means that you have eliminated that journal for eventual publication of your article.  Most journals have a clear policy that they will not accept rejected articles because of the volume of submissions that they receive.  So if you submit to get feedback and receive a rejection, your article is permanently rejected from that journal.  This is important to take some time to think about because there are only so many appropriate journals.  For instance, I do research in urban sociology that is relevant for journals like City & Community, Urban Studies, and Urban Affairs Review.  If those three journals are the best fit for my article and I submit to one of them and get rejected, then I am down to two journals left.  Two journals may be plenty, but sometimes you need three (if not more) journals to find the trifecta of journal fit, editor support, and supportive reviewers to get your article placed.  If the article you’re working on is speaking to a very specific audience and has very few venues, it isn’t ideal to eliminate an option to get feedback.  

Second, even if you have a long list of journals in which you could publish your article, you may have preferences about what journal you would like it be published in.  This means that you should think carefully about where you would like to send the article to get additional feedback and not include the journal(s) that you are most excited about.

Third, submitting to a journal does not mean that you will get peer review.  Depending on the quality of the article and the fit with the journal, you could get a desk rejection, which provides you with little to no feedback on what you’ve written.  In my experience, most desk rejections are form letters that basically say the article wasn’t a good fit for the journal.  Occasionally, editors provide a little more information like “we don’t publish quantitative studies” or “the paper’s framing was too underdeveloped.”  The former comment is less helpful for revising an article to improve it for the next submission, but the latter comment provides some (although vague) direction on what to work on.  

Finally, it’s worth considering what other options you have for feedback.  You may not be able to ask the person who suggested that you submit it to get additional feedback, but you’re likely to have some other options at your disposal.  Consider sharing the paper with a workshop, a writing group, or other experts in the field.  I use the word “experts” broadly to not just reference someone familiar with the literature that you’re in conversation with, but to also include the prolific article writer who is not an expert in your subfield.  The prolific article writer knows how to formulate a journal article and can provide feedback on where your article does not follow important conventions you may not be aware of.  Think of these kinds of other options and figure out if there are any that you haven’t yet exhausted that could be used instead.

At the end of the day, whatever choice you make should be what is best for eventually publishing your work.  So weigh your options carefully in deciding when to click submit.

I’m not someone who sets resolutions in a new year. I’ve found that I rarely achieve resolutions and often feel guilty and unaccomplished upon reflecting on that failure. Instead, I like to set themes and intentions for the year to come. For my research work this year, my intention is to tackle the book project that has long been on the back burner behind many articles. 

When I first finished graduate school, I spent time learning about the book publishing process and thinking through whether I wanted my dissertation to become a book or a series of articles. I went to panels with book editors (they were incredibly helpful!!), talked through the dilemma with mentors, asked friends who had made a decision how they came to their choice, and talked to my new colleagues about what would be best for my tenure track journey. Based on the intel, I ended up pursuing a tenure plan focused on articles with the promise to myself that the book would be a post-tenure project. Over the years, the book has come to the front burner a few times as I have worked on the book proposal as a way to envision the pieces of the book and the broader argument, new data analysis that I’m integrating throughout the empirical chapters, and rough first drafts of some chapters to take a stab at what I want the chapters to look like. But the bulk of my research time has been focused on articles to make sure I’m meeting my goals for tenure.

This year marks the first time that I’m close enough to my tenure goals to think about my post-tenure research pipeline. (This is both scary and exciting.) Soooo…I have declared 2024 to be “the year of the book.” The challenge is that I still have a number of articles at various points in my research pipeline. That work is not coming to a stop partially because some articles are still in the review process and partially because they include a number of collaborative projects that need to keep moving forward. The point of declaring 2024 “the year of the book” is to make sure that the book stays at the top of my to do list. To make sure that even when I need to turn my attention to an article, it is with the intention of turning back to the book. 

To accomplish this, I’m splitting my months into 2 weeks for the book and 2 weeks for articles. Which weeks are allowed to vary depending on if I’m ready to turn away from what I’m working on or whether something comes up that needs to be dealt with immediately, but 2 weeks of every month WILL be for the book! It’s a simple way to prioritize the work that I want to accomplish and an effective way to make sure that work is a priority. 

So here’s to the year of the book!

If you’ve been reading Practical PhD for a while, you know that one theme is that there is no ONE way to do things in this academic life.  In the spirit of this, I want to share something that people are often shocked by about my publications.  I am five years out of grad school and four years into a tenure-track position and I have not published anything from my dissertation.  To be clear, I have been publishing.  I just haven’t published anything based on data from my dissertation yet.  I share this to highlight that there’s not just one path in publishing.  

Some folks have their very first publication come out of their dissertation.  Many start careers on the tenure track revising their dissertation into articles and/or a book manuscript to start producing publications that count for tenure.  My path was to start by reviving old work that had sat on the back burner while I applied to jobs and postdocs and finished my dissertation.  This included research projects I started before graduate school such as MPA thesis, as well as early graduate school projects like my MA paper.  I also worked on new collaborations as opportunities arose and ideas came up that provided opportunities to not just focus on sole-authored research.  I also invested in some new ideas as there were CFPs for special issues closely related to my research interests.  

As I did that, I was weighing my options for what to do with my dissertation.  During my postdoc year, I debated whether I wanted to write a book or not and, if so, if I wanted to get tenure based on a book publication given that I had a good number of articles already in the works.  Having decided I want to pursue a book publication post-tenure, I have spent time developing the overarching argument that I want to put forth in the book and have worked on incorporating new data and analyses, outlining the new chapters, and even drafting some.  I’ve also planned out which chapters I’d like to modify to publish as articles and am working on some of those now.  

You have options in your path to publishing.  Whatever path you choose should develop a pipeline including projects in the phases of idea development, data collection, data analysis, drafting manuscripts, and submitted for publishing.  This doesn’t mean that you have to pursue your research in a linear fashion.  You can skip to an idea or a project in data collection before coming back to something that is already drafted.  In fact, that can provide some distance from a draft to see it with fresh eyes, lead you to work on a project that brings you joy (something that is easy to lose in the grind of chasing publications on the tenure track), or allow you to prioritize something that is timely.  

In my case, I wanted to get those pre-dissertation projects out the door, while also pursuing opportunities for new research that came with those special issues.  While I would not recommend the timeline on which I wrote those two special issue papers from scratch to anyone, I am very proud of the scholarship I produced.  Those special issue articles also contributed to my thinking about future research projects including the book I want to write based on my dissertation.  

So as you’re making plans for your path to publishing, remember that there is no one way to get there.  You have to find the path that keeps you moving forward without killing your joy. 

Graduate school is a place that can break down the most confident of students. It isn’t just that you may go from being the smartest student in a room to being one of many brilliant students. It is also in the disparities with which graduate students are treated through mentoring in the classroom setting and beyond. Whose ideas get engaged with with zealous during class discussion. What kinds of ideas get public praise. Who is called out as doing innovative research or advancing theory. Seeing the patterns, it’s easy to focus on who you are not and thus associate certain labels with others and not yourself.

That was my experience with theory in graduate school. I was new to theory as I was also new to Sociology as a PhD student. The required classic sociological theory course was the first theory course I had ever taken. I did my best to keep up, but also to understand why this was a required course and why there were not one, but two required theory courses in our curriculum. During that time, the idea of who a theorist was among my colleagues and I solidified in my mind as someone who engaged with theorists. That is, someone who advanced the ideas of Marx, Weber, Durkheim, Gramsci, or Bourdieu. It was someone would you could add an “ian” to a name to describe their work as Marxian, Weberian, etc. Someone who was consistent in their use of and engagement with someone else’s theoretical ideas.

That vision of a theorist excluded me. It also excluded anyone who didn’t define theory in a very particular way. Ironically, the one reading I refer to constantly over the years since taking theory points this out. In “The Meaning of Theory” (2008), Abend identifies 7 different ways that sociologists use the term theory. Only one of the definitions (Theory4) aligns with the way I had identified theory and thus theorists during my early years of graduate school. And yet, despite strongly embracing Abend’s argument that there is more than one way to think about theory, I strongly held onto this one vision of how someone was a theorist throughout my time in graduate school.

To be clear, my research has always engaged with what Abend (2008) calls Theory1 or “a general proposition, or logically-connected system of general propositions, which establishes a relationship between two or more variables” (p. 177) as well as Theory2 or “an explanation of a particular social phenomenon” (p. 178). Theory guided my early research on the racial wealth gap. It defined my interest in studying how racial segregation affected parolees’ employment outcomes. It informed my Master’s research and subsequent article on race and gentrification. It was what led to my dissertation topic on how the news media represents gentrification.

It wasn’t until I began to read the literature of W.E.B. Du Bois for a new project during my postdoc that I started to truly see myself as a theorist. Perhaps not surprising that I only first saw myself as a theorist as I engaged with a Theory4 like definition. Moving beyond that took me writing my own theoretical take on gentrification as a racialized process of class change, my first non-empirical, non-methodological publication. Today, I know that what makes me a theorist is that I am constantly seeking to move beyond documenting racial inequality to explain why racial inequality persists and reproduces. This means engaging with more than one theorist. It means thinking innovatively about how theories of race and racism can better inform the study of racial inequality in my areas of study. It means putting theories across subfields in conversation to produce better explanations.

I may never be the kind of theorist I saw amongst my peers in graduate school, but I have emerged as a theorist despite that. Maybe you are a theorist too.

Teaching new courses requires a significant time investment.  Many of you already know!  I did a new course preparation for spring semester this school year, so I thought I would share some of the ways that I recycled and reused to save some time in the process in the hopes that it sparks some ideas for you.

First, I copied another course’s format.  I teach a course on segregation that is organized roughly as follows:

  • Background history 
  • Relevant contemporary factors
  • Implications for individuals’ life outcomes
  • Potential solutions to the problem

I used that as a template for my course on how city neighborhoods change with the exception of ending with opinions about gentrification.  Having a generic set up helped me organize my thoughts, which initially were quite scattered.

Second, I recycled my assignments.  In my segregation course, I use a series of methods assignments that students have to incorporate into a final paper.  I like the assignments because they give students practice with some practical skills like working with Excel, but are also interesting to read, which makes grading easier.  Lucky for me, the assignments also fit for my how city neighborhoods change course with a slight tweak in the instructions and focus of the prompts.

Third, I reused any and all readings that I could from other syllabi.  I was actually able to pull from my segregation course and my race/ethnicity course for this.  This let me integrate readings that I already knew worked for my undergraduate students and met the needs I had for a topic area.  To be fair, reused readings only appear in about 6 weeks of my class, but that meant I had little to no readings to find for those 6 out of 14 weeks.

Finally, because I reused readings from other courses, I was able to reuse slides that I had already developed and refined.  That helped tremendously in week-to-week lecture preparation.  Again, I didn’t have reused readings every week, but on the weeks that I did, it saved a lot of time.

The point is you don’t have to recreate the wheel for every new course prep.  You can reuse and recycle elements from classes you’ve taught before.  If you’re new to teaching or have a course prep that is a stretch from your prior course topics, you can also borrow elements from other instructors’ syllabi.  Starting from something makes the hard lift of new course preparations a little bit more manageable.

I just finished the first week of the semester and I’m already falling into patterns of trying to do things that I know don’t work for me in time management practices.  It’s been easy for this to happen because what works for me is not aligned with the common advice that is dispensed about how to manage your time and balance the demands of research, teaching, and service.  What I hear most often is to break up tasks and assign them to time slots on your calendar.  It sounds great in principle, but I need more flexibility in my work since I prefer to focus on something until it’s at a stopping point or finished instead of just because it’s been an hour.  I’m the kind of person that will fixate on what I left behind instead of moving onto the next task.

So what did I do wrong last week?  I put tasks on my to do list for each day that assumed I would have time to go back and forth between a bunch of tasks each day. A little bit of time for X then some for Y then some for Z between meetings and other commitments.  It worked on Monday when I had no meetings and my other commitments went smoothly.  But Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday just became days where I pushed several to do items to the next day and the next day and the next day, never actually getting to them.  So the literature review I was supposed to get back to, the comp I was supposed to grade, and the HR trainings I would rather not do (but have to) just never got done. 

Part of that was because I had deadline sensitive work to complete.  The teaching prep for next week for a new course had to happen and took all the time I had on my teaching days (Tuesday and Thursday).  The grant application that has a hard deadline took all my non-meeting time on Friday.  The problem was not how I used my time, but how I allocated tasks to my to do list assuming I would switch between tasks to get to them all.  I did not stop to take an hour everyday to complete another module on the HR trainings.  I did not go through one book from the stack on my desk for the literature review on my research days (Monday, Wednesday, Friday).  But I still checked things off my to do list. That I was still getting things done reminded me that it was my expectations in the process that were off.  

So next week, I’m going to give myself the big blocks of time I need to first finish this grant application and then grade that comp exam before I turn to that literature review.  I will remember that I don’t do well juggling between multi-day (or week) tasks in a day. I work best when I focus on one thing at a time and knock it out.  If you were also feeling like your time management had been off, assess your time management strategies based on how you work best, not what someone says is a best practice! 

I was recently interviewed by Dr. Betty Lai who has a forthcoming book and website providing guidance on the grant writing process. The tips below that I shared with her during our conversation were published in her newsletter (which you can sign up for here: https://thegrantwritingguide.com/) and I am sharing with readers of Practical PhD with her permission.

Here are Dr. Rucks-Ahidiana’s top three tips for people who are learning to navigate grant writing (plus one bonus tip).

1. Don’t give up just because you get rejected one time. It doesn’t mean you’ll be rejected for life. There are some grants that have restrictions on how many times you can apply, but that’s rare. Most grants are more open. You can apply multiple times. You can apply and get rejected. And then revise and apply again. Don’t give up on your projects.

2. Ask for feedback if it’s not provided. There are applications where funders have feedback, but they don’t necessarily automatically give you the feedback. Request that information. If you get a rejection, follow up. Say thank you and ask if there’s any feedback. They may tell you they cannot provide individual feedback, but they may send it to you. Feedback helps you figure out what’s working and what’s not.

3. Look for samples. Look at who’s been funded before. For most grants, the websites will list projects and scholars. For example, you could look up the sociologists who’ve been funded. That can give you an idea of what kinds of projects they’re funding, but also look to see who you know on that list. Ask those people if you can see their application. You can also reach out to people you don’t know who are from a similar field. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by folks’ generosity, particularly folks I only know from Twitter, who have been willing to share grant applications with me. Sometimes the samples are not similar projects to what you’re doing at all. Don’t dwell on the particulars. Look at: what’s the level of detail they provide for their methods? What do they say about what they’re going to do with data analysis? How in depth do they go? Do they have a timeline chart? Break down the elements in the sample. Don’t feel like you need to replicate the kind of study that they’ve done.

Bonus Tip: Don’t be scared to ask questions. You may not feel comfortable asking a program officer for a meeting, but that’s part of what they’re there for. It’s beneficial for them to screen out applications that aren’t relevant. It’s OK to ask questions.

I was recently interviewed by Dr. Betty Lai who has a forthcoming book and website providing guidance on the grant writing process. The transcript of our conversation below was published in her newsletter (which you can sign up for here: https://thegrantwritingguide.com/) and I am sharing with readers of Practical PhD with her permission.

BL: How did you get started with grant writing?

ZRA: Fellowships are helpful for understanding my trajectory with grants. I applied to fellowships before I even got into a PhD program. I had no idea what I was doing. I learned a lot in my first few years in grad school, because there was a lot of support and community around applying for NSF fellowships, Ford Foundation funding, Soros, and other predoctoral fellowship options. I didn’t secure any pre-doctoral fellowships from outside the university, but having that experience and getting feedback on those applications helped with my applications for dissertation funding. Before I graduated, I secured an AAUW fellowship and was an alternate for the Ford Foundation Dissertation Completion fellowship. Since then, I have received the Emerging Poverty Scholars Fellowship from the Institute for Poverty Research, a Ford Foundation Postdoctoral Fellowship, and the Mellon Emerging Faculty Leaders Award from the Institute for Citizens and Scholars.

BL: What was your biggest challenge as you learned how to write grants?

ZRA: Every application is a little different. You can build off of the same application, but a funder will ask for a diversity statement, or a personal essay, or want certain headers. The peculiarities of each application make it a challenge. Especially if you are applying for more than one. I definitely recommend applying to as many funding sources as you’re eligible for. From my experience, you have to throw a lot at the wall to get something to stick. I recently secured a Mellon Emerging Faculty Leader award. That was one of four applications I submitted to try to get funding for this summer. That one came through, but there are also three that didn’t. You don’t know what’s going to stick.

BL: How did you feel as you were learning grant writing?

ZRA: It was overwhelming to figure out where to find funding. After graduate school, I knew there was National Science Foundation funding. I knew it was highly competitive. I went to a grant writing workshop before I started my tenure track position. My big takeaway was I needed to get smaller grants under my belt to show I’m getting funding and being acknowledged for my work. But it’s a hunting game. You have to do some investigative work. I often look at the CVs of scholars who are doing similar research to me. I go to the grants section. Where have they gotten money from? The only problem is sometimes pots of money disappear, but it’s a good place to start. Twitter is great as well, because folks announce when they’ve won funding. I often click on the link to see more information about the funding program. Is this something I could save for the future? Or is it outside of my areas of research? Some funding comes under different names. Sometimes it’s an “award” with a pot of money, sometimes a “fellowship,” sometimes a “grant.” I have a bookmark folder for funding including grants, scholar in residence programs, and things like that.

BL: What changed for you after submitting your first grant?

ZRA: Grants let me focus on the job market my final year of graduate school. I would have stayed in graduate school another year or two otherwise. Once I landed a job, I was able to focus on the dissertation and getting that wrapped up. It was also a change in my CV. None of the departments I interviewed in required a grant to get tenure. But it certainly did come up in my job interviews. People said, “Oh, you’ve gotten funding.” To them it was a sign that I could get more funding and bring grants to their departments. There is prestige for the university that comes with getting funding. So it’s something folks like to see at all levels of administration. They like to see folks that are landing pots of money in some form, so I think it did open up some opportunities.

Look out for Part 2 with my advice for new grant applicants!

Graduate school is full of hidden curriculum. From how to get an office to where to find sample comp exams to why to use independent study credits, there are a lot of things you won’t know about when you start and some things you won’t know to ask about. There are books you can read to get some insight on the hidden curriculum, but I want to share something I found helpful in grad school, asking questions.

I spent a lot of the first year of my PhD asking questions. In proseminar, in office hours, in staff’s offices, and with advanced grad students. (Ask my cohort mates…I got a reputation for this.) I asked questions to understand the program requirements, funding opportunities, and to feel out who I wanted to work with.

You could call what I did a form of informational interviewing. Normally informational interviews are used to gain insight into a career path. In some ways, my questions were just that: asking about how to successfully complete a PhD. But my questions were also a way to learn about the culture in the department, which faculty communicated in ways that worked for me (and which didn’t), and to get a better sense of the challenges that students often faced in the program and department that I might also face.

While I think asking questions is particularly important in the beginning of your time in grad school to make sure you understand what you’re signed up for, informational interviewing can be also be helpful to get broader information along the way. So for instance, faculty feedback on draft proposals and articles is often in response to what you have written. But behind that specific feedback is an opinion about how a proposal or article should be written. (Trust me, we all have opinions about these things!) Most faculty don’t phrase feedback like “A literature review should…” Instead they say, “Make a clearer argument in your literature review,” responding to the words you have on the page.  

You can make conversations about your specific work broader by asking questions: What does a strong literature review do in your opinion? How do you prefer to organize your data and methods section? What are the common mistakes you see in the articles you peer review? While faculty may be inclined to give specific feedback in response to your draft, you can push the conversation with these sorts of questions to figure out their broader view of what makes for a good journal article. You can apply the same technique to book writing and grant applications as you advance in your career.

Now obviously asking questions only works if you know to ask so keep an ear out for things that don’t make sense to you to follow up on.  It is more than okay to ask for clarification and more information.  Actually, it is sometimes helpful for folks to realize they’re not talking about something that is widely known.  That could be dropping an acronym, a name of a program or an office on campus, or even referencing something you haven’t read.  Having these kinds of interactions can actually inform future interactions with other students in my experience.  

One thing I found helpful in illuminating some of the things I didn’t know to ask about was talking to advanced grad students and asking faculty very open questions.  With advanced grad students, I asked what they wish they had known.  With faculty, I asked what do I need to know about the next step in this process (e.g., qualifying exams).  These kind of questions always brought up really helpful insight I wouldn’t have known to ask about directly.  

Lastly, let me end by reassuring you that part of the faculty job in programs with grad students is to advise and mentor them.  Answering questions is part of the job.  Asking questions is not being disrespectful of someone’s time in any way.