Well, a PhD in Music, to be accurate. This morning, Facebook obligingly reminded me that it was exactly ten years since my thesis revisions were accepted, meaning that I would definitely be graduating in November 2009.
We couldn’t let the decade go unmarked! After all, I’ve since published a book, been a postdoctoral research assistant on one grant-funded project, PI (Principal Investigator) on another, and added the PGCert in Learning and Teaching and a couple of fellowships to my post-nominals. (I’d like to say my rateable value had also gone through the ceiling, but sadly, that’s not the case! Part of me still works as a librarian, and I don’t have the freedom to go in search of promotion in another part of the country.)
But it still hasn’t been a bad decade considering it’s the decade in which many people are tempted to coast downhill to retirement! Retirement isn’t even on my horizon yet – I’ve got several articles about to be published, a couple more ideas for research yet to be explored, and am about to start another grant application.
Anyway, I acknowledged the decade milestone on social media, and off we went to celebrate. There will be fizz later – rather tame fizz, but fizz all the same!
I hesitate to blog about this, but I feel I should. I received a distressing phonecall at home the other day when I was off work and shortly to attend a medical appointment. There are some sick individuals out there! He used my full name, called me “horrible and pretentious” (I hope I’m not), accused me of calling myself “Doctor” when I wasn’t a General Practitioner, then finished with “IDIOT!”, and put the phone down. Not knowing the difference between PhD and GP would be ignorance, of course. Anyone who knows me knows what a PhD is – and how hard I worked to get mine!
What I find disturbing, on the other hand, is the thought that the caller must have known me to have had such a well-thought out, articulate script. To answer my greeting so sharply with what they calculated would be a suitable barb takes either a quick mind or premeditated malice. Did the caller know I would be at home that day, when normally I would be at work? (Hardly anyone did know.) Or did they just get lucky when I answered?
So, is this an ignorant but quick-thinking bully, or someone who knows me – or knows of me? If the former – shame on you. Get a PhD and you, too can call yourself “Doctor” without being pretentious. If you do know me – or of me and mine – then rest assured we’ll find out who you are.