After several years of serious thought, I've pretty much ruled out the idea of getting my PhD. It's been a slow, difficult realization for me. Since about my junior year in college, I've always assumed that I would go to grad school for English. I, probably more than most, have been stubborn about that goal in the face of the mounting evidence
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We've been setting our hopes on what, from a distance, looks like the idealized job. Then you read, and in your case, learn through experience, about all the politics, the enormous pressure to constantly publish, and the horrendous job prospects. The job we really want doesn't exist, and the reality is a lot to swallow. Medical doctors go to school for 4 years and will definitely find a job, most likely making a ton of money. English majors go to school longer to get an equivalent degree, then aren't respected nearly as much and in many cases are paid criminally low salaries for the amount of schooling. I've always been the first to say its not about the money, it's about doing what you love. But it reaches a point where you have to let logic creep in, and a PhD in the humanities is like career suicide these days.
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