Hello! My name is Carolyn Mak and I am a school social worker in Toronto, as well as a sessional lecturer at the University of Toronto. I am also a QRB Alumna (Fall, 2020) and today’s post will be about something personal that affects my professional life: Impostor Syndrome. I hope that what I have to share will help those of you who also experience this, as well as to broaden understanding of it from a systemic perspective.

In April, 2016, six years after beginning my doctoral studies in social work, I defended my dissertation. Even now, I remember the incredible relief when they congratulated me and called me, “Dr. Mak.” Yet, to this day, I have struggled to reconcile the fact that I actually accomplished this achievement.

While I loved my doctoral program and cohort members, it was unlike traditional programs; we did our coursework intensively on campus during summer months, but then students scattered to their own cities to conduct the dissertation research. Advising with my Chair was done by phone (this was before Zoom and videoconferencing got popular) and email. I found my motivation and ability to steadily chip away waxed and waned; and as a result, I made decisions about the way to analyze my data that got me through the program. Ultimately, I doubted whether those decisions made the analysis rigorous enough. My committee of four did not raise concerns, and neither did my peers, but in my mind, I had gotten away with something; my dissertation had somehow passed, somehow squeaked through unnoticed – I felt like a fraud.

My cultural upbringing taught me to be humble, and I was raised not to take up space – as a female, as a person of colour, as a Chinese-Canadian. My impostor syndrome is not intense because of any slights and microaggressions from those around me, nor is it because there is something so psychologically wrong with me, but because in fact, there are many societal factors conspiring to perpetuate this kind of self-doubt.

While “impostor syndrome” is not a new phenomenon, and in fact, was “discovered” in the 1970s, only in more recent years has there been a more intersectional analysis on what this actually means. Researchers and authors have often discussed how impostor syndrome impacts women more than men, partly because they see fewer women in positions of power as role models, for one. More connections are now made to the inherent sexist society in which we live; like racism, this kind of bias is part of the air we breathe and impacts our thoughts, behaviours and attitudes towards ourselves and our own accomplishments. I have also wondered how my identity as a woman of colour may or may not have contributed to my own relentless seeking out of legitimacy, such as more and more professional development, and academic status.

In fact, finding out about Dr. Quantanilha and Quali Q, and enrolling in QRB were ways that helped me realize I am not alone. Finding like-minded researchers from all over the world among the QRB participants reminded me that learning is an infinite journey, and that validation and care among community is so important.

Speaking out against my impostor syndrome is my act of rebellion and resistance against those biases and forces that would expect me to stay quiet, to continue to meekly feel like a fraud.

There are dozens of articles that speak to how we can heal ourselves from impostor syndrome. For me, the first way has been to openly acknowledge that I actually did earn my PhD! For years, I kept my degree under wraps, substituted in “graduate studies” instead of saying “doctoral work,” I kept the title off my email signature, asked people to call me by my first name, rather than recognizing my “Dr.” title. It was only recently that a student of mine told me that she had no idea that I had a doctorate, and apologized for not acknowledging my title. I realized that for her, and other women of colour that I teach, being able to own my own title is just one step to show that “yes, we can.” If I can’t acknowledge my own hard work and achievement, I am indirectly telling other women of colour who might see me as an aspirational figure, that they have nothing of which to be proud.

While the first step is the acknowledgment, a second step for me has been self-care. I don’t mean bubble baths and mindful colouring (though nothing is wrong with these!) but really making choiceful decisions about how I spend time. That can include limiting how much time I spend fretting about my career and projects in my pipeline, to also declining things. Part of the way my impostor syndrome has manifested is to continue seeking out coursework, and signing up for a barrage of webinars and learning. While there is value in learning, of course, the motivation should not be fear of being found out. So, instead of adding something to my list, I am going to relieve myself of the pressure to “keep up” and instead, acknowledge that with almost twenty years of professional experience, I can be enough.

Lastly, part of the healing journey is speaking up, being open about my challenges with impostor syndrome. I know I am not alone, and the worst feeling is when one feels silenced. As I grow as a researcher, as an academic and a person, I am finding my voice and wanting to share this experience with more people. Thanks for reading.

~ Dr. Carolyn Mak