Academic nomadism and impostor syndrome

Academic nomadism and impostor syndrome

Two years ago at a conference, I was talking to a professor whom I deeply respect, telling him that I honestly do not know where my home is. I left the country I grew up in when I was 18, spent 11 years in another one pursuing my studies, moved again to a new country to get the postdoc experience I wanted, and here I was 7 years later, moving yet again to another country for academic reasons. 

As you undoubtedly know, it’s common in academia to move around. There are several reasons for it: the university we got accepted to, a research line that we are passionate about, a grant we obtained, the only super special institute doing that one thing no other one does…

So, how is our identity affected when the environment (and the relationships) are repeatedly disrupted? Is our sense of self more uncertain or is it just fluid?

Serial tribalism in academia

Humans are strange. We have some rooted needs that are not very obvious to us when we first realize that we are human. One of these is the importance of belonging to a community, a tribe. It used to be essential for our survival. It most certainly still is.

The nature of the research environment, the short limited contracts, the new techniques waiting to be explored, the funds running out, makes it that our tribe is in perpetual movement. It’s not easy to build a community to begin with: it takes time, and this environment makes it a lot harder. Even if we don’t move around, people around us change. So, we are in a constant state of rebuilding trust and credibility to be accepted into the tribe. 

Sometimes, it might seem easier to just avoid it all together and remain an outsider.

“Hey my fellowship is only for a couple years, I’m just passing by.” 

But I don’t recommend it. We have everything to gain from being part of the tribe. Not only do we need it psychologically and socially, but the connections we build are sometimes the keys to the doors we will encounter in 5, 10, 15 years. And many times we end up being the key that helps others step through their doors. 

A dreaded side effect

Once again you leave the comfort of an established tribe membership to join another group/lab/team. A new place is always intimidating and that is normal.

“I just ended up here because I got lucky.” 

Does this sound familiar? Is this exactly what happened to you? Well, I have some news, that is not you speaking, it’s your impostor syndrome. Most of us have it, and it means that we care and want to contribute to the community. 

So, it is not a bad thing in itself, but can set us back if we don’t deal with it and get rid of it. It makes us less likely to ask that question at the seminar, to reach out to the potential collaborator, to apply for that big grant…and it places that imaginary obstacle right in front of us.

There is a way to kick that away and overcome it though. We not only need to look back at our accomplishments, but also to celebrate them as they come. Stop moving the goalpost. Acknowledge reaching it (burn it down if you want) and get a new one.

We need to remember that we don't come empty handed to new places, we do have stamps on our “passport” with our previous research and our publications. They not only establish trust but also serve as proof of our belonging. As we build our credibility in our new tribe, we also build it within. 

So where do I belong?

Here is the wise advice I got from the professor I mentioned in the beginning of this post:

“Once you arrive there, you make that decision to claim it as your own. You plant your flag, and you make it your home.”

Our identity is not place-based, we have been part of many tribes and we partly remain as such. In fact, this involvement gives us a remarkably multifaceted, unique perspective.

So welcome home, get comfortable. 

You belong here now.