Sucking It Up and Wearing the Big Girl Pants: No MATX PhD

This week, I contacted VCU and learned that I was not accepted into the program for which I had applied. The official letter has yet to arrive, but I received a very compassionate and brief email from the head of admissions for the MATX PhD.

So far, the professional academics in my life are greatly surprised. I wish I could say I was, having grown fairly accustomed to rejection in general. Writing an associate yesterday, I said that while I was surely disappointed, I was at least relieved that other choices could open themselves. With family being so far, being locked into our current location another two to three years may not be in our best interest. Only time will tell. Luckily, everyone has been very kind about my rejection. A freshly delivered arrangement of flowers, sent by my parents, perches on a bookshelf by the window.  The blooms have already started to open. Perhaps, this is a sign of hope.

Yesterday, I decided not to take this setback too personally, and I wrote the gentleman at VCU to let me know what I could do to improve my chances of acceptance should I apply again. What I wondered was this: how can I continue to grow? In the meantime, I try not to grapple too much with the feeling of rejection--something everyone experiences and ultimately overcomes. Maybe I have finally learned to cope better with it.

What I separate from rejection is the alternative choices I am meant to walk. I wish I knew what that was exactly. I created a plan B for myself when I applied to school—renewing a teaching license for neighboring states, for example. I also wish to take additional coursework in graphic design, computer animation, and certain copywriting software, et cetera. We’ll see what happens.

Until I am sure of what to do and where to go, I’ll keep editing test prep material for this little firm, I’ll still enjoy some creative writing on the side, and I will continue to enjoy my children and their schools, as I did today. And yes, I’ll try hard not to sulk too much about not getting my way on this one.

Opportunity and Journey: the MATX

This past week, I submitted a substantial amount of materials to VCU for consideration into graduate school. Should I be accepted, the lovely, aging homes that house classrooms and offices on campus will become a familiar backdrop as I pursue a PhD in MATX (media, art, and text). This week, my children and I walked the campus, then gently tread the worn and creaking stairs of the graduate admissions building to drop off my transcripts. Under the bare trees outside the office, we paused to breathe the sharp scent of promise: a cold winter of waiting between hopefulness and an answer. I scanned the street for signs of welcome—anything that said this place was as much for me as it was for the young students that wandered in chattering pairs, their backpacks slung nonchalantly in place.


I thought of my mother and how she must have clasped the little hands of my sister and me when she herself first stepped onto a campus again. My mother had returned for her master’s, which she did complete after years of covering our dining room table with her books and papers. I told my daughter this.  She is still unsure of what my pursuit of a doctoral degree might mean, even though I promise a better future for all of us. Regardless of what letters behind my name might signify, my passage through this campus, even my effort to do so, will mark for her that she, too, has a future she can carve, one not necessarily pegged by gender role, family history, or outside expectation. Looking at VCU, even as the campus began to sleep with the approaching Christmas holiday, a tinge of excitement ran through us. The children and I, holding each other’s mittened hands against the chill, exchanged smiles.

Below is an image from my painting portfolio and an excerpt from my entrance essay. Wish me luck!

There are obvious reasons why an artist and writer like me would wish to return to school: the lure of a PhD with the potential of teaching at the university level; the connection with other artists, writers, and professionals who wish to share their interests; the desire for a saturated education in new computer and online media. The internal reasons, however, are the reasons I wander the path in the first place and they come with the very questions that the MATX may help me explore: As a mother still in child-rearing years and having lived in multiple states, I am lost in the woods. Where was I going before everyone else’s life took precedence? Can I break out of my gender role and become the explorer that will eventually guide other writers and artists to a plane of recognition, reason, and purpose?

Happy holidays, Readers.