If it was easy, everybody would do it!

I come from a highly-educated family. On my mother's side, she's 1 of 6 kids, and each has at least a college diploma. On her side, I have 4 uncles (a pediatrician, chemical engineer, architect, insurance agent) and 1 aunt (a lawyer). My parents both earned Master's degrees, and now Mom's working on completing a Ph.D.

My older brother and sister, and their respective spouses, all have college degrees. So, going to college, in our family, was always a given. It was expected. Once I finished college, I was immediately encouraged to earn my Master's. My parents advised me: "Don't get a job now. Get your Master's over with, because if you go back to school after working for a few years, it'll be much harder to make that adjustment." They were absolutely right.

I'm so glad I followed their advice...so much so that I started grad school the very next month after I finished college. So, I literally went straight through. 

But over time, I've realized something. I'm starting to feel as though all my certifications and diplomas reflect a certain level of self-worth. Not only getting the certificate or diploma, but even more so, from the institution conferring it upon me. I earned my Bachelor's at Texas A&M International University. I earned my Master's at Texas State University-San Marcos. I've earned my Kodály Certificate through the OAKE-endorsed Texas State University Kodály Certification Program.

In our world, on planet Earth, it's my understanding that a Doctorate (Ph.D., D.M.A., Psy.D., Pharm.D., Ed.D., J.D., M.D., etc.) is the highest level of academic achievement one can earn, with a Master's being the 2nd highest. Of course, these are documentations implemented by humans to measure someone's commitment to ongoing professional development and excellence. The more you earn, the more reputable you are as an expert in your field...to the point where you are a sought-after to train and present new research on an international level.

That makes me remember something: During one of my semesters in grad school, I called my mom on the phone, worried I couldn't finish because of the level of difficulty of my assignments. She gave me a valuable reality check. "Of course getting a Master's is hard," she said. "If it was easy, everybody would do it!"

So now, I live in a beautiful home, living the American Dream  in a city I absolutely love with the man I love, the house I wanted, car I wanted, career I love, and so many more blessings.

I have a Master's, and the only thing harder I can earn is a Ph.D., and if I pursue one, I choose to pursue it in music education.

But the only university around here that offers a Ph.D. in music education is the University of Texas at Austin (UT). Other universities in Texas and other states offer this degree, but I'd have to relocate, and that is NOT an option. UT is a school I've applied to twice before, and got rejected from twice: once for the Master's (before I landed at Texas State), and again for the Ph.D. Both times, I had applied for the music theory program. Now, because my husband happens to be a UT alum, and also because our home is consequently adorned with some UT décor, I feel even more pressed to get a degree from UT...but not just any degree: the highest and hardest degree in my favorite concentration, from one of the most competitive higher learning institutions in the country (if not the world).

Can I do this? Why should I do this? What do I have to prove? If I have to prove anything, to whom do I have to prove it? Is it just because I'd love for people to address me with "Doctor" before my name? Well, that's a little vain, isn't it? Is it because I'd love to see the letters "Ph.D." appear after my name on a business card? That's probably vanity all over again, and those are probably the worst reasons to take on something like this.

How do we as a society measure worth? I've heard this saying before, "The more you know, the more you're worth." That holds great truth when it comes to job hunting and retention. If someone came up to me and said, "Give me every reason why I shouldn't fire you right now," I could only respond: "I hold 2 degrees in music, I've completed my Kodály certification from an OAKE-endorsed program where I studied with 5 internationally renowned master teachers for 3 years, I can read, write, speak, and understand 3 languages fluently (English, Spanish, ASL), I excel in my written and verbal communication skills, I'm certified to teach both GT and all levels of music from PK - 12th grade, I'm proficiently skillful when using technology, the administration has evaluated my teaching several times and has determined that I exceed expectations overall, and I'm the only one on this campus who can do my job the way it's supposed to be done."

So, if all that (and possibly more) is enough justification for me keeping my job, why should a Ph.D. matter? Why does it matter so much to me that I get one? The only people in my school district who hold Doctorates are usually administrators at the district level, not elementary music teachers. Besides, I know for a fact that my school district wouldn't pay me extra for having a Ph.D. 

So why do I want one?. I sure don't need it. I just want it...very badly. I want to feel a certain way about myself that I feel only UT accepting me and conferring on me the highest possible degree would make me feel. But I'm a very lazy person, and that type of person shouldn't pursue such a difficult workload. It would be a massive time commitment, not to mention a costly one. And yet, those 3 little letters, Ph.D., mean the world to me.

Before I even apply, I have to face and conquer many inner demons, including (but not limited to), my utter hatred for the GRE (which stems from my hatred of standardized tests in general).

I don't know if this will ever happen. I obsess and obsess over it. But every time I walk the UT campus and see students with their backpacks, I think to myself, "What do they have that I don't, and how can I get it?" I view UT students like an elite intellectual club that I yearn to join.

If I go through with it and push myself, I just have to remember what Mom told me: "If it was easy, everybody would do it."