“This is the worst thing I’ve ever read.” That is what my advisor told me as I handed him the key to his lab while balancing a box of my belongings on one hip. It was my last day. My departure date had been written into his calendar for more than two months. He chose this moment to tell me that he wanted me to completely re-write my thesis, the same thesis he did not read until after my defense. I left in tears, enrolled in another semester of thesis hours and then moved to start a new job. My advisor said that he would give me notes and revisions, but months went by without hearing from him. So, I started working on it on my own, mirroring the style of journal articles. I sent my revision to my advisor, but never heard anything back. Finally, Chris camped outside the man’s office with the final copy and sign-off form. My advisor signed the form. I don’t think he ever read any version of my thesis. Two years later, my advisor died from a heart attack. One of his then graduate students contacted me with a manuscript that he wanted to get published. It was written in the style my advisor preferred, but by then I had some experience and new something about the writing style of a journal article. I told the student that the data was good, but that the paper would never get published written in that style. The graduate student replied that he didn’t want to change the style in honor of our advisor.

My work in that lab was never published. I never heard another word from that graduate student. I never received any notification of publication.

Graduate school wrecked my confidence and self esteem. I left with my masters, pretty sure that I was never going back. I told myself that I was not smart enough to get my doctorate and I wallowed in my failure for a few years. I had been under the impression that graduate school was meant to wreck you, but I have seen time and time again that this does not have to be true. I just had a bad experience. I have also worked with enough PhDs to know that I am smart enough to get a doctorate. The reasons I have not gone ahead with it now has more to do with a lack of interest. It wouldn’t get me anything but bragging rights, but I will admit that I’ve always held on to some bitterness over the unpublished work I did in graduate school. I do not have any digital copies of my thesis. All that is left is a hard copy, a thick stack of papers that I have been carting around with me for twenty years. Every time I clean out the filing cabinet, I think “I should just throw this out.” But I never do.

This week a researcher from a spectroscopy company tracked me down to ask about the work I did in graduate school. I was at work and I sent a text to Michael asking him if he would see if my thesis was still in the filing cabinet. He dug it out and sent me a picture of it so that I could confirm his discovery. I replied “Holy shit. That’s it!” I still can’t believe I never threw that thing away. That evening when I got home, I skimmed through it so I could find the answers to some questions the researcher had asked me. I cringed the whole time while reading through it. It still holds the taint of being the “worst thing” I’ve ever written, but I found the answer to the researcher’s questions. I don’t know if they’ll end up using any of my data or information, but there was something validating in their request for information on my work. Maybe finally it will actually be put to practical use.

And it only took twenty years.