Unpacking PhD Failures and Future Plans
I applied to eight doctoral US-based programs and got rejected by all of them. Yes, it was one of the worst experiences I’ve ever had to endure. Yes, I crashed out. Yes, it can only be up from here.
I don’t have a single picture of myself from late February or early March. It was a dark time. At some point, though, I had to dust myself off and remember who I am, regardless of who admits me into certain spaces.
There was a time I didn’t fight hard enough to secure a role as a personal assistant to a renowed media professional at a huge media conglomerate. I wanted to follow the rules, and at the time I was an international student who couldn’t say “yes” to many opportunities; I kept thinking that by playing the right cards at the right time and in the right way, everything would eventually come in full circle. That didn’t happen. Somebody else became the personal assistant to Elaine Welteroth, just like somebody else was probably being given sound advice on how to break into the media industry at the ripe age of 20-something-years-old. I gave myself many chances to break into the industry, one full year of OPT. The mentors, the sponsors, the emergent new fashion media darlings of the creative scene were all around me, but none were really willing to share their resources with me nor were they interested in betting on me in a tangible way. No, I’m not talking about an IG follow and call it a day. I’m referring to concrete practices and advices that could have fostered in me a lot more confidence in myself and in my own craft.
Today I can say that I scratched many itches: I have a few accolades, bylines, some titles, lots of job experiences, and I’m content with that. If today is my last day on Earth, I would leave some nice projects behind, including a book, a start-up, and a few articles elevating Black voices. For each of the thousands “no” I got from 2019 to 2023 in the media industry, I got closer to a crowd of professionals who are so diverse and so intellectually driven that I became every single day more and more inspired to keep focusing on my own journey. I never had an ounce of stability in my career: rejections, and lack of authenticity coming from the industry and its leaders led me to the spaces that I’ve been proud to be part of, including academic spaces. However, it was very dumb of me to think that this kind of grit, perseverance, and ambition could ever be rewarded in academia. We live and we learn, they say.
Rejection Season
I completed HYROX in 2 hours and 7 minutes. First time. Talking about endurance. HYROX gave me back the confidence and the mental strength to believe in myself again after a heavy season of rejections.
I’m not new to rejections, but last round of PhD applications (for Fall 2026) was brutal. Orange-man (who shall not be named) sat on his crumbling throne imposing new regulations and projects that dismantled the little stability I had fought so hard for and that I was hoping to get. Last December I was notified that my job at Saint Peter’s University would come to an official end, in addition to the news that NJCU and Kean University would finally merge, introducing new Kean faculty and laying off NJCU professors (you can imagine… NJCU adjunct lecturers were thrown in this mix of undesirables). Here I was thinking that a PhD would be a great thing to think about and go for it, especially when every single person around me at that time would tell me “apply to a PhD program”, “go for the academic freedom, leave the industry behind”, “you’re so bright, innovative, and determined, anyone would be lucky to have you.” I never had this amount of people, career-wise, believing in me. Shoot, they must be right: I’ll apply to a few programs.
Last December was brutal, but the worst was yet to approach. January and February hit. Rejections started to flow in my email inbox, but not only from the PhD programs I had applied to. I was rejected from the grants I was hoping to get for my business, I was rejected from the Pilates instructor program I was eager to get into, and I was rejected from something else too (I forgot what, probably a series of jobs, because as an adjunct lecturer I’m always looking for the next gig - my husband and friends make fun of me saying that my hobby is to stay employed, I mastered the skill to do that). On top of that, I was waiting for my green card and I couldn’t yet see my parents back in Italy (nor my relatives in Brazil). I also got accepted to a few academic conferences, but guess what? It wasn’t recommended to leave the US on an EAD card while waiting fro the green card, so I had to decline many invites and opportunities (similar to the Elaine Welteroth thing from a couple of paragraphs before). I fell into depression for a whole month, my birthday month. Until this day, I don’t know if my scholarship really means jack shit in academia, but objectively speaking there are people who are attracted to it and see validity in it. And if no one does, I sure am the biggest fan of it.
Applying my Preaching (otherwise everything is counterproductive)
The contemporary and modern world runs on a general highly-powered and dynamic consumption of news and mass media. Lifestyle journalism, particularly fashion journalism, presented me a world of possibilities through which I could learn more about myself by analyzing my body, experiences, and opinions in relation to the perspectives and ways of life of other people, especially Black. A world without media literacy generates echo-chambers filled with ignorant people. We can use media literacy and the mechanisms of the creative industries (that feed the cycle of media, pop-culture, and any other lifestyle editorial production segment) as background filters to introduce intellectual frameworks such as intersectionality, respectability and desirability politics into the minds of the general audience.
All of this sounds fancy, but how I can bring all of this in the classroom or in front of an audience?
After getting all the rejections, I first took a brief break. While on a depressive mode for two long weeks, I started re-emerging out of the blues with a fresh mindset: let’s never apply to a PhD ever again and let’s keep treating this scholarship as its own independent “thing”. I started practicing more gratitude every single day, kinda out of nowhere, in order to get out of my feelings and sense of worthiness. My partner helped me lots, bless his heart and patience. Not many friends of mine knew what I was going through, nor my parents. As a first-gen student, no one knows what a PhD is and the possibilities that this route could open me. Alas, while I still dream about this opportunity, I needed to get back to feel grounded, and I started training for HYROX (I hadn’t secured the tickets in February… I got last minute tickets… that was another rejection I had to apparently wait for to see that it was only a redirection for something better).
A few months later, I wrapped up the semester without any fuss and started prepping for my time at Vogue Summer School. And then, right in the midst of all these rejections, the wonderful news came: I'd been accepted into a volume, and my chapter will soon be published in a legit academic publication. That gave me back my full confidence: whether I like it or not, PhD or not, fancy media title or not, I can create wonderful editorial products and I am a media professional who can do all the things she sets her mind to.
My time at Vogue Summer School sealed the deal. I saw that all those rejections really were redirections. I'm happy with the way I look now, the what-ifs have ceased to exist, and I'm even more motivated to keep building what I'm doing. It would still be nice to have more structure and more of a send of job security, to know these pieces of work will actually land with students and young folks, because I really want to work with the next generation of media consumers (that's where the gold is, metaphorically and financially speaking). I never thought the same industry that spat on me would hand me every reason to believe I made the right choice to pivot, and that all those industry-related rejections now make sense, especially once I learned how many of those people don't have a life outside their job bubble. Most of them are in debt, have no social life, while I had to lean on people outside the industry just to stay sane and alive.
And then, to top it off: I applied and got accepted to present new academic papers. I will make sure to document more on that, but in the meantime you can always check my LinkedIn.
Oh, I will apply to a few other PhD programs by the way. The expectations I will set for myself this round are zero, because I can’t afford to ruin my mental health again, especially when I know that I can be a successful scholar even if I will never have nor benefit from a title or an institution.
After long months in academia, dealing with job insecurity and future career-related plans that seem to fly our of the window constantly, I felt myself again at Vogue Summer School. While this is a short contract, it was good to be around like-minded people and fellow media researchers whose creativity and impact in the classroom is vivid, reciprocated, and powerful. With a hindsight, I am proud and lucky to have received lots of rejections from the media industry, because I also (to keep it a buck) have seen people whose energies were off, heard stories that made my skin crawl, and have observed how these editorial products really make an impact on the minds and hearts of the next generation of media consumers: weirdly enough and long story short, I know a lot more about fashion media than certain media executives, especially when it comes to representing non-White voices and talents.
What Am I Doing Now?
I realized that as much as I genuinely want a PhD, I was acting out of fear and a scarcity mindset. I wasn't operating with the mindset that would let me believe I could prosper regardless of the rejections, but instead, I was weighing the pros and cons of getting a PhD based on the job stability I could feel from it. For almost a decade I've been living in limbo, waiting on immigration paperwork, and dealing with industry rejections based on my capacity to say yes or no and a lack of active sponsorship. So a PhD would have meant some sort of stability. Sort of. Some. It would have been a traditional step, because I still often, as radical and creative as I am, crave for a structure and for a group of people who can give me feedback and mentorship. I consider myself a work in progress, and I never want to stop learning. I’m comfortable by mown self, I proved it many times, beat the odds, but I also recognize that a little bit of resources - whether is money or are intellectual products - would make a difference in the way I treat, promote, and elevate my research and writing.
Now my mindset is different. I've been building a reputation where people know me for supporting the underdogs, the radical dreamers, and the image-makers who break the ceiling, and for being like "Barbie" (to quote a few students of mine from Vogue summer school: "You're literally like Barbie, you can be anything and anyone you set your mind to at any time, miss"). I have a healthy, lovely home life that I want to keep cultivating, and I don't want to disappear into the politics of academia. Just like I dodged a bullet and cried over the many missed opportunities in media, I think I saved myself from a lot of pain by not getting into a PhD program this upcoming fall. I'll apply in a much more strategic way to the new programs and schools I'm considering.
Finally, I won't have to wait on a green card anytime soon. Finally, I've secured a few jobs and contracts for the next few semesters that'll keep me afloat while I keep writing and producing editorial material for some upcoming ventures. And finally, I can enjoy life now in the future, with confidence and more determination, and see that I'm worthy, no matter the job, the title, or the terrestrial failures I endure.
