Posted by Regina Miranda, Ph.D.
This month, I will end my first academic year as one of the Directors of Clinical Training (DCT) of the Health Psychology and Clinical Science Program at The Graduate Center, City University of New York . This academic year was a “crash course” in being a DCT — quite action-packed. There was no easing into the role. Leaving my sabbatical year and entering my first year as a DCT, my goal was to take “baby steps” towards creating an inclusive environment for our students, one in which trainees of all backgrounds could ultimately thrive and find their place in academia. Having spent over 10 years co-directing federally-funded programs aimed at diversifying the US biomedical workforce, I have many unarticulated thoughts about our current assimilationist approaches to clinical and research training (more on that, perhaps, in a future blog). But others have written about this more clearly than I might be able to do.
The year was full of highs and lows. During some of the difficult moments, what kept me motivated was the hope that ultimately, we would keep growing in a direction that would help develop the careers of clinical and health scientists who would go on to not only have an impact on our field, but to be part of transforming it. Below, I revisit the first email I wrote to students in my role as DCT. It is a reminder of one of the things I continually chase in this career — an environment where I and others can be our full, authentic selves.
August 23, 2021
Dear HPCS Students,
A warm welcome to our returning and new students. I am excited to be starting the Fall 2021 semester as your Director of Clinical Training. I am still learning my way around this role, know I have big shoes to fill, will make many mistakes along the way, but nevertheless, look forward to putting my own little stamp on the program and to working collaboratively with Tracey, Jen, and other HPCS faculty and students to help you all achieve your professional goals and to help you imagine how you might put your own stamps on our field.
In the spirit of new beginnings, I know that many of us were hoping that we’d be starting this semester in a “return to normal.” Or were we? I find that I don’t want to go back to “business as usual.” Yes, I would love to be back in person without restrictions and without the uncertainty surrounding this pandemic. But I also think the past year has caused us to pause and reflect on what is important, mourn losses, perhaps even make important decisions that we had been putting off, and collectively, take note of and experience greater urgency toward addressing long-standing problems affecting marginalized communities. That requires something more than where we were before.
I started my doctoral training 24 years ago at the age of 21, quite young and idealistic. And I remember in that idealism of my graduate training, as I encountered a field that was at times friendly, curious, and motivating, and at others overly critical, cynical, and just plain tired and worn out, wondering if I would ever reach the point where the spark that led me to become a clinical scientist would also wear out. There have been moments, but I’m still here. I am here because the parts of this career that motivate and excite me outweigh the parts that can wear me down.
Graduate school is an opportunity to have dedicated time to learn new things and to develop your identities as health and clinical scientists before embarking on your careers. But it is hard, and in psychology, this is especially the case for health and clinical scientists balancing courses, research, clinical work, and teaching. And to top it all off, for some, academia tends to gradually chip away at the things about us that make us who we are so that we can fit a certain mold of what a scientist is supposed to look, sound, and act like. Being stripped of important parts of our identities, to fit a particular mold of what a scientist is supposed to be, stifles progress, inhibits open communication, excludes people whose participation is critical to our field, and ultimately fosters environments that are harmful to us.
This summer, with everything going on, I found myself struggling with anxiety and depression. To supplement my therapy, I started running. I have never been a regular runner, so I started out both walking and running, taking a break when I needed to, until I built some endurance to run longer distances at a time. One song that I listened to during my runs is Pink’s “All I Know So Far.” It reminds me of what it’s like when you lower your defenses and allow your true self out. It can be scary to be ourselves, to admit what we know and what we don’t know, and to be open to feedback and change. But when we do, we move forward and grow. It takes persistence — first walking, then running, taking a break when we need to, and asking for help when we need it.
I hope that, despite the fears you might have about the upcoming year, that we, as faculty, will foster an environment where you feel you can bring your whole selves to the program, and when that happens, we will take a step towards creating enduring long-lasting change in our profession. It is my goal that, as a program, we can provide the training, support, mentoring, and community you need to carve out your paths…