Ceremony matters; even for things that seem in the scheme of things to be relatively unimportant. It is surprising how attending a ceremony, or missing a ceremony can have an impact on perceptions of status or identity.
In late 2010 I applied for the award of Australian Health Promotion Association Post Graduate Student of the year, including the Carole Bailey scholarship, and won. There was nearly three months between hearing I’d won and the awards ceremony, and I was requested to hold off officially announcing it until after the ceremony. I was really excited about going, working out what to wear, and enjoying some recognition. I had asked Mandy (my supervisor) to attend with me. I wrote to the AHPA Vic contact person the night before the ceremony in Melbourne, (which was combined with the AHPA Vic AGM) asking about background information re the Carole Bailey scholarship, who was she, that sort of thing, because I wanted to say thank you properly. This is the reply I received, a few hours before I was due to leave for the two hour drive to Melbourne, my reaction, and subsequent reflections, written in 2011 soon after the miscommunication debacle, and follow up written today, Aug 5 2012:
Good Morning ladies
We are looking forward to seeing you all tonight at the AHPA Vic Branch
AGM and film night.
Unfortunately due to the tight time running of the evening there will not
be time for personal presentations. There will be a brief highlights
speech delivered by our executive committee when you are announced as the
successful winners of the Carole Bailey scholarship awards.
Can you please email your bank details so that I can arrange for the award
payments to be paid electronically into your accounts.
I need your full account name, BSB code and account number.
If you could prefer to give them to me in person I will be there tonight.
Many thanks and I look forward to meeting you all tonight
Kind regards
(name removed).
I read this as meaning that we would not be presented individually with our award certificates. I was devastated. There was no way to contact this person to clarify.
I didn’t feel good about dragging Mandy down anyway, and if there was no presentation where she could cheer and take photos what was the point of driving for four hours? I wondered if I should still go, or not. I’d been looking forward to it for ages, worrying about what to wear, feeling proud about receiving the presentation. The depth of my distress was profound, and quite surprising to me. I suppose I value and need those celebrations of success because I don’t get much external recognition for what I do. I’d asked the new post grad coordinator if there would be seminars (the previous coordinator had promised them, but none happened). Her reply? ‘There was one last week, I should have told you’. That was after I’d attended a health science staff meeting where it was emphasised that support, encouragement and capacity building (via a writing retreat) would be given to those already successful at publishing, but no encouragement for those learning was mentioned. In fact when I asked if PhD students would be welcome I received a vehement no. I’m still not on the uni website as a PhD student of Mandy’s, either. I’m not really out to big note myself, but am realising just how important recognition is to encouraging me to keep going.
2012 update: I chose not to go to the AHPA AGM and ceremony, believing that the award was not going to be presented, just my name read out as part of a busy evening. It felt like I never won the award. A certificate eventually turned up in the post, and the $300 prize was put in my account. I was supposed to spend a day ‘work experience’ at VicHealth as part of the award, and tried to set up something that would be useful, such as shadowing someone, but was offered the opportunity to attend the launch of a sporting thing, which did not interest me. Attending a VicHealth sponsored conference was suggested instead, and I asked for information about what was available, but never had a reply. I felt so demoralised I didn’t follow up, and missed out on that aspect of the prize. It really felt like I never won the award.
Another prize: When I won the La Trobe Alumni, Bendigo Chapter, Post Graduate award this year, I was determined to go to the prize giving. I was allowed three guests, and wondered who would be interested to go. I have lots of friends, but wasn’t sure who would be appropriate to invite to this sort of thing. Bendigo on a week night was too far to expect my sisters or daughter to get to, especially as I had to be on a bus to Melbourne at 5.15 the next morning to get to a conference. I asked Jim to come, who agreed (but I’m not sure if he really wanted to be there) and I asked my friend Ben to come as I felt he would be appreciative of the event and what it meant to me. I asked son Will to come and show off his new suit, but he was not enthusiastic. The day before the ceremony my friend and labmate Karen said she would actually like to come, and cheer enthusiastically, which made me feel good. I checked that Will was serious about not going; he was, so Karen was guest three.
As I prepared for the ceremony at the Capital Theatre, a grand venue in Bendigo, all the feelings about the AHPA award ceremony and the debacle of the miscommunication, fuelled by my own insecurity, returned. I decided that this was the opportunity to put all that to rest, enjoy the ceremony and prize and reflect on how far I’d come in the time since with progress on my PhD, confidence about the validity and relevance of my research topic, and a sense of pride that I was valued and appreciated by my La Trobe Bendigo community. I was rather excited in the car going in to the event, but calmed down after a while. I bought the official (poor quality, expensive) photo:
I also love the pictures of me with my guests. My dear friend Charon came too but left early as she was not feeling well, so no photo of her was taken.
This experience has reinforced for me the importance of acknowledgement and ceremony, and taking such occasions seriously. Also, if you are organising something and people are coming, providing a contact phone number in case something happens really helps. It has also been interesting to think about PhD imposter syndrome, how PhD students don’t really think they are worthy, and what the consequences of this can be. I’m feeling much more secure in my role now. What other prizes or awards can I apply for?
Lindathestar 