WHAM met Maria, a 26-year-old who is currently a doctoral student in Tampere and spoke about the challenges she found before being accepted to do a PhD.
“My name is Maria, I am 26 years old, and I am currently a doctoral student in Tampere, Finland. “Prior to pursuing a PhD, I worked as a teacher, and now the focus of my research is in educational policy. I haven’t achieved anything incredible in my life—what I’m doing is being done by many others. However, I did face a few hurdles to get here, and I want to share my story in the hopes that if there is anyone out there facing the same obstacles, they might find some encouragement.”
- Reflecting on your upbringing, how did those early experiences shape your perception of education?
Ironically, for someone who is quite academically oriented, I really did not fit in at school. During my primary school years, I was an average student, but I was forgetful and aloof. I often forgot homework, and I was bad at memorising things (and I definitely still am quite bad at remembering things). I also did not share the most common interests that other students my age would have. If I had to liken school to a puzzle, I was that one puzzle piece which was always trying to find its place but not quite fitting in. I still loved learning, reading and writing—but at school, ‘learning’ meant that we had a curriculum, and it was meant to be followed; anything outside of it isn’t relevant. Eventually, I took this to mean that who I was, was somehow ‘abnormal’ and school was just not for me. I was not one of the high achievers nor one of the popular girls, and I felt like I could never be.
- Can you share more about any personal struggles with self-esteem and feelings of unworthiness during your school years? How did these challenges influence your career choice in becoming a teacher?
Not fitting in meant that I tried to make myself as quiet as possible. In turn, this meant that I was an easy target for bullies. I was made fun of for wearing glasses, called a ‘midget’, and once thrown down the stairs at school. I was so desperate to fit in that when these things happened, I laughed along with the students doing these things—I did not believe I deserved anything better.
As this life unfolded at school, at home I was feeling the pressure to perform well academically. This pressure was well-meaning—we all encourage children to perform well at school. However, a part of me felt that I was not worthy, not a ‘good’ daughter, if I did not do well at school.
Struggling with the feeling that no one liked me at school, and the feeling that I was just not a good student, translated into “I am not good enough”. When this becomes your main belief, it shrouds your entire world in a black cloud—eventually, it became ingrained, and I navigated any new experience with the premise that I’d probably fail at it or just not get it right ‘enough’.
- As a teacher, what specific moments or realisations made you see the transformative power of education, both for students and teachers?
Despite my struggles at school, I met many educators along the way who believed in me and made me realise that maybe, I can do it. I clearly remember and cherish my secondary school English teacher, who I used to discuss reading books like Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf with (authors that are not usually read by teenagers). She never made me feel ‘weird’, and she never told me to stop reading those books and instead read the books of the curriculum.
Moments like these made me realise that schools have the power to shape one’s identity—especially for those students who are sensitive. A label given to someone when they’re at school can be carried throughout someone’s life. This led me to become a teacher because I felt and understood how much teachers could make a difference.
Unfortunately, working in a school, I quickly realised how difficult it was to enact change. Teachers need to work within the system they are in. As much as I hated the idea of exams and making students learn by heart, the system requires it for students to achieve O’levels, A’levels, etc. I think that these experiences ignited a small fire within me, and I wanted to do more.
- What personal experiences motivated you to pursue a PhD—how challenging was your journey?
With that little fire inside, I remember meeting my Master’s supervisor and asking her whether she’d be my supervisor for a PhD. I remember clearly how she told me that she would love to have me as a student—but she believed that I should go abroad because I’d be able to learn so much more. I remember thinking, “I’d never be able to do that”. Even here as an adult, I still felt incapable and not ‘good’ enough.
During this time, I lost a school friend to suicide. This loss shook me to my core, and I struggled (and still do) with feelings of guilt and wondering whether, if I was a better friend, this life could have been saved.
I felt paralysed and helpless for quite some time. Eventually, knowing that my Master’s supervisor (and other lecturers I met along the way) believed I could do it and knowing that I owed it to my friend who lost her life, I started applying to universities to do a PhD.
- Did you find encouragement and support, or was it a difficult journey to get to where you are today?
The journey from deciding I wanted to pursue a PhD to actually starting it, took roughly two years. This is quite normal, considering that to apply, you need to think about what you want to research and write up a research proposal. There’s a lot of reading and soul-searching that needs to be done.
However, along with this, I was rejected from 2 universities, then I was initially rejected from the university I am currently at, but provided with feedback and told to re-apply. After working on my research proposal, and re-applying, I was then accepted.
For someone who is already questioning their worth and wondering whether they’re good enough, these rejections were incredibly hard. Each time felt like I was hitting rock bottom, and each time I wanted to give up. It was the one thing I really wanted to work hard for, and I felt like I was useless at it.
To make matters worse, I had people tell me, “Maybe you should stop trying”, “Maybe you got rejections because you’re not good at it”, and the very poignant question, “Why do you even want to do this?”.
- Being accepted to pursue your PhD in Finland must not have been an easy journey – and you possibly faced many challenges; how did you cope with any feelings of helplessness and hopelessness? Were there specific strategies or support systems that helped you persevere?
Along with the more negative comments, I am extremely lucky and grateful to have many friends who believed in me. I thank them all from here for the hours they’ve listened to me, encouraged me, made me laugh on the darkest days, and just believed in me when I couldn’t.
I also went to therapy, which helped me work through these feelings of low self-esteem and still try again and again.
- Now that you are finally in Finland pursuing your PhD, how has this experience shifted your perspective with regard to never giving up and resilience? What advice would you give to others who may be facing similar challenges?
Looking back, I am surely grateful that I kept on persevering. My feelings of ‘not good enough’ are still there (and I don’t think they’ll ever leave completely), but now they are easier to deal with—especially because I work with colleagues (who have become my friends) who also share these feelings. I feel lucky and grateful because I work in an extremely supportive environment.
- In the context of your journey, what do you believe is the broader lesson about resilience and not giving up, especially in the pursuit of educational and personal goals?
My advice is to seek help and support whenever you are struggling. This could be professional help, like a psychologist, but also help from friends and colleagues. Many moments throughout my life I needed people who believe in me more than I believed in myself—seek those people and keep them close to you. Other times I had to leave environments and place boundaries with people who made me question myself further—it’s okay to do this, and it’s not selfish.
It’s easy for me to write: do not give up and keep on trying. It is so much easier to say it but so much harder to do it when you feel helpless. I believe that we all have a little fire within us, find that fire and hang on to it, and if you can’t believe in yourself, believe in that fire within you.
