Part II - Beginning your Career

3 Your First Year of Graduate School

Mitchell J. Prinstein , Kara A. Fox , Nathan H. Field , & Olivia H. Pollak

You got into graduate school! Hooray! Before embarking on a multiyear journey, it’s worth a moment of self-congratulation for this extraordinary achievement. It’s the culmination of everything you have accomplished since, well, kindergarten. It’s also worth recognizing that you did the hard work needed to survey your interests, discover your passions, and determine what field most deserves your talent and energy throughout your professional life. It’s fine if you don’t know what you’ll do with your degree yet – that will come once you have had more experience over the next few years. For now, be excited that you chose psychology – a field that has the potential to understand and improve people’s lives through a focus on literally every thought, feeling, and behavior for literally every minute of every day for every human on the planet. No other discipline can say that, and soon you will be an emerging expert in this most exciting field.

But back to celebration for a moment longer. It is harder to get into graduate school in psychology than most other areas of graduate study, at least in the US. Data are not available for every subdiscipline, but for doctoral programs in clinical psychology, for instance, only 8 percent of applicants get into US programs, and during the pandemic that proportion got a lot smaller as the number of applications nearly doubled. That means that your admission to graduate school may have been harder than getting into med school, law school, or even veterinary school, which means that you have some unusually advanced skills and experience that will most likely be sufficient to ensure you will thrive over the next few years. While admission into these programs is a uniting factor for successful applicants, each student comes in with varying levels of experience, presentations, and publications. You may be tempted to compare yourself to others on these metrics during your first week of classes. Don’t. Each applicant was selected for admission based on their potential to excel in our field, and most of those metrics reflect the generosity of mentors more than students’ potential anyway. Be assured that if you were admitted, you deserve to be in graduate school as much as everyone else. (See Chapter 5 on Imposter Syndrome to help you understand why it’s normal if you sometimes doubt yourself.)

What should you expect during your first year of graduate school and how can you be successful and happy for the next 12 months? That’s what this chapter will touch upon below, with a focus on graduate coursework, some thoughts about your general demeanor and sources of support now that you are on the path to a graduate degree, and some discussion on getting started with research.

1. Graduate Coursework

For many first-year students, graduate coursework may present a confusing paradox. On the one hand, succeeding in courses is kind of in your wheelhouse. It was probably your ability to complete reading assignments, write essays, study for exams, and get good grades that led you to get into a remarkably competitive graduate program. Most programs also contribute to the illusion that coursework is what graduate school is all about; it is common for many first years to take about three courses in each semester of their first year, which leads many people to determine that although this is a lighter courseload than you had as an undergrad, these are graduate courses and thus perhaps more advanced, requiring you to dedicate even more effort on them for your first year. Indeed, these classes can be time-consuming – they will soak up whatever time you allot to them.

Therein lies the paradox, because in actuality, most professors would agree that your coursework actually represents a relatively less important aspect of your graduate training. Of course, it’s not that coursework is unimportant, and you certainly should not ignore your assignments. It’s just not your main focus. That’s for two reasons. First, it is completely expected that you will pass these courses. The graduate school selection process usually is successful in admitting high-achieving, scholastically inclined, and perhaps even perfectionistic (more on this later) students, each of whom has a long history of getting good grades. Assuming you apply a reasonable amount of effort and bring your well-established intellect and thoughtful inquisitiveness into each class, you will do fine. I would not lose sleep over a graduate-level class midterm or final (except perhaps in statistics), because these classes are not expected to yield great variance in students’ performance, and it is widely assumed you will do fine just by being the student you have become in the last 17 years of formal schooling.

But note that there is also a second reason why graduate coursework should not be your main focus: no one will ever see your grades. No internship, postdoctoral fellowship, or eventual job application in academia, practice, or industry will ever ask for your GPA or graduate transcript. (Note: If you apply for a training grant from the National Institutes of Health, they may ask, however.) No one lists a graduate GPA on their CV, and no one will care what grades you got. In fact, some graduate schools don’t even assign formal grades of A, B, C, etc. but rather list Pass vs. High Pass. Now, again – a quick caveat. You should not aim to fail these classes. In fact, most graduate schools will put you on probation if you get a “Low Pass” grade and will expel you for a “Fail.” But under the assumption that this chapter is being read by a student with a long history of academic success, a strong work ethic, and a small dose of perfectionistic tendencies, it is safe to say that you do not need to worry about your grades.

You may be wondering – what is the best orientation to have in graduate coursework, then? It may be worth thinking of your coursework as a context to get exposure to a wide array of theories, findings, approaches, and techniques to expand your thinking in psychology. Probably for that reason, graduate professors are known to offer far more reading assignments each week than any human could possibly complete thoroughly, and each class session is dedicated toward group discussion about these readings to expand your mind and debate the concepts referenced therein. Your understanding of the facts is important, of course, but your ability to engage with the material – question it, apply it, discuss it – is often emphasized more, with graduate training focused on seeing “how you think,” and helping you to become a questioning, informed scholar rather than a regurgitator of facts. It’s good to speak up in graduate school and it’s great to challenge concepts you’ve read about, and point out their limitations. It is NOT great to have your computer opened to surf social media during class, even if you got away with that as an undergrad. Remember, your goal is not to know enough material to get an A; it is to discuss and think about the material in a thoughtful way. Perhaps for those reasons, your assignments will be essays and term papers, and rather than discussing your grades at faculty meetings, your professors will discuss how well you explained and questioned concepts in your written work and during class.

With the exception of your statistics classes in your first year, there is not a lot of studying, per se, in graduate coursework, and truth be told, not all students have completed all readings before all classes (i.e., splitting up readings and trading outlines among classmates is a common practice). But there is a lot of information to digest. In many training programs, graduate training is conceptualized as helping you to progress through three levels, which can be conceptualized as a pyramid perhaps. Those levels are based on the concept that in graduate school your training is meant to help you gain exposure, experience, and expertise. You start at the bottom – the widest level – gaining broad exposure to tons of concepts and ideas (thus, many classes with an abundance of readings). By your second year, you are already taking only two classes a semester (with perhaps zero to one class each semester in your latter years of graduate school), but delving further into your research, teaching, and/or practice where you can apply the information you have been exposed to and gain practical experience. As the pyramid shape implies, you won’t get to experience everything you had exposure to, and there will be some areas of psychology (or some ideas within your area) that were foundational but never lead to applied experiences. That’s ok, and there’s no reason to worry that you are ill-prepared or missing out. Your exposure is supporting your future experiences and will inform your work for decades to come. Similarly, your expertise will represent only a thin sliver of all you were exposed to, or all you experienced. For most students, this expertise comes from your work on your dissertation – the topic of which may be the one area you will feel an expert in when you graduate. This truly is the pinnacle of your graduate school journey and note that it is not based on a class; it is informed by the material you were exposed to in your coursework, and emerged from your experience, but reflects a narrower focus and specific question for which you are one of very few in the world that can claim to be an expert.

In other words, you don’t have to stress out over your coursework as a first-year graduate student, and you are not expected to dedicate excessive energy toward becoming an expert in each class, or on each assignment during your first year. Graduate school is hard enough, and this year should be dedicated toward the enormous adjustment it takes to become a new kind of student. Save some energy to focus on those areas of adjustment below, and trust your well-honed academic skills to be sufficient when it comes to graduate classes.

2. Time Management, Combating Perfectionism, and Getting Support

If you are not hyper-focusing on graduate classes, then what are you doing during your first year of graduate school? Of course, your first year will include a start to your independent (yet, mentored) research career (more on that below), but it may be worth conceptualizing this year as an adjustment year, which includes a focus on skills that are not formally taught, but will be sorely needed for you to succeed in a career in psychology. It has been said that (ok, no it hasn’t, but we are saying it now) that the greatest accomplishment in your first year of graduate school is to develop work habits that will guide you for decades to come.

Graduate school will ask more of you than anyone can achieve. This is not meant to inspire a challenge; this is a fact, and it is one that requires a substantial change in your approach to your graduate career, and perhaps your professional career for years after that. Put simply: you are intentionally being tempted to bite off more than you can chew so you can struggle a bit and learn a new way of chewing. During graduate school, you will learn that you cannot accept every opportunity, you will not do your best on every task, and you will experience critique and rejection. This is a good thing. If you did everything perfectly the day you got there, then you would get the PhD upon admission. You are supposed to fall on your face, get substantial revisions on most of your drafts, and have to redo your work, sometimes from scratch. In graduate school, you should have learning goals, not performance goals. If you strive to be perfect at everything in graduate school, then ironically you have failed in understanding the point of your education. Instead, strive to learn as much as you can in graduate school, and remember that we often learn the most after we stumble.

These challenges will not just come from your formal graduate training. Moving to a new city or state, as is often required, is strenuous on its own. For some, going to graduate school often necessitates leaving behind friends, family, and loved ones. For others, graduate school occurs during the same life stage when we are living truly independently for the first time (i.e., not in a dorm), when we form stable, enduring romantic relationships, or fully realize sexual and gender identities. We are managing a budget to live on (often coming from a small stipend), and beginning to accrue substantial student loan debts. It is the time when we have to keep an apartment, develop a life outside of school that is not created for us by campus life administrators, and develop hobbies that help us find respite. These are the years when parents or grandparents may experience severe illnesses, our siblings may begin to have children, we may be exposed to significant life events, societal stressors, or face new forms of discrimination. It is also a life period when research suggests we may be susceptible to the onset of some types of psychological symptoms. It is a time psychological research refers to as emerging adulthood and all of this is layered on top of a rigorous, demanding, multiyear course of study.

Before we discuss the ways to handle the new work- and lifestyles that graduate school demands, the importance of keeping up with your physical and mental health cannot be overstated. Many graduate students seek psychological treatment to focus on emotional wellness. Your program (or more advanced students) might have recommendations for providers in your area. You will be much better positioned to deal with the demands of graduate school if you make a conscious effort to take care of your body with exercise, regular and healthy meals, and adequate sleep. It sounds simple, but with the potentially consuming nature of your new responsibilities, it’s easier than you might expect to neglect these areas. It will take time to find balance, but you will be better off for it.

You have a lot to adjust to, and one piece of this is the experience of setting your own schedule, determining when and how you best work on graduate school tasks, and developing self-directed initiatives to take on many responsibilities, often without the structure of externally imposed deadlines. It’s important to note that you are the one managing your own work; that is, you likely won’t have a structured list of tasks laid out for you by somebody else. You also are responsible for setting your own agenda and holding yourself to it. That’s a new experience for most people, which means that you are not expected to know how to do it on the first day of graduate school. In a given day during your first month of graduate school, you may have class readings to complete, lab meetings to attend, research ideas you would like to explore, perhaps grading or research responsibilities to finish to earn your stipend, as well as the need to start determining the topic of your master’s thesis, and the daunting notion that there have been about four million articles published in APA’s PsychInfo database, a few hundred of which you will eventually need to read, comprehend, and critique.

That list may make you feel overwhelmed just by reading it, but you can handle it! You may run into trouble, however, if you attempt to do it all at once, if you expect to do it all perfectly, or if you can’t get started. Let’s discuss each of those issues one at a time.

2.1 Time Management

No one takes a course in time management skills. We all kind of test out new ways to impose structure, deadlines, motivators, and reminders into our chaotic lives and we find our flow when we discover which techniques work best for our own workstyle. As a first-year graduate student, you have a system or habit that got you into graduate school … but it may or may not work for you now. Your first year is a time for experimentation, and you should expect that it may take that entire time (or longer) until you have figured out what works for you. Some people use project management software to set deadlines and compile notes they need to keep tasks moving forward. Some have elaborate systems of post-it notes stuck to their computer monitor. Others set daily, weekly, or monthly goals, with reinforcements (hello, frozen yogurt!) for completing tasks along the way. Ask around. Talk with your mentor. Try a system or two to see what works for you. Some graduate students set up writing blocks, and drive to a nearby coffee shop to work so they don’t get distracted. Others prefer to stay up late at night when emails slow down to get some focused time. Some like to plan to draft a paragraph a day and others like to binge-write until an entire paper draft is completed. Just as you are not expected to know how to grade papers, write manuscripts, or run new types of statistical analyses yet, you are not expected to know the best approach to use to accomplish these tasks. It may be a good idea to let your mentor know that you are experimenting so they can support your approach and maybe even offer tips. It will also be a good way to communicate that you are adjusting well to the new demands of graduate school and learning about your workstyle. As your workload increases in later years, you may need to adapt or altogether change your system. But this “meta-understanding” of how you work, and what works for you, is a process that helps you be productive and learn about yourself in a way that will let you understand your strengths, challenges, and when you need to ask for help.

2.2 Combating Perfectionism

As you work through this process of managing your time, you are also collecting data informally on how much time it takes for you to complete tasks. This is a very important piece of your first year of graduate school because it will provide the information you need to help combat perfectionism. As noted above, you simply can’t do all that is asked of you, and you can’t do it all at your best. Reread the prior sentence a few times until it really sinks in, please, because this may be the hardest lesson you learn. You have been positively reinforced for doing your best since the day you were born. But you can’t do your best at every task now that you have reached this level of training. The plain truth is that you’re going to have to half-ass a few things on your list, knowing that your half-ass is probably still an A-level of quality in the grand scheme of things.

Imagine you carve out a day to write an abstract for a poster presentation submission. Could you spend an entire 8 hours working on this task? Sure! Could you spend 3 days on this task? Absolutely. Will there ever be a point when you will look at your draft and say, “This is perfection! Beyond reproach! Every word is gold!” Nope. The fact is that at some point your work has exceeded the bar necessary for the task (i.e., in the case of an abstract for a poster submission, note that over 75 percent are usually accepted at most national conferences) and extra time you spend on it is either unnecessary, or it is suffering from diminishing returns. In other words, you are improving the work less and less with each passing hour.

The same goes for planning a class lecture, grading papers, reading for class, and so on. Some of these are tasks you want to apply your full perfectionistic tendencies toward. But you can’t do so for all of them and one of the best things you can learn during your first year is an understanding of how long it takes you to do a good (maybe even great), but not perfect job on each kind of task. If it takes you about 5 hours to write a poster abstract, schedule 5.5 hours to get it done. Even if you have all day, don’t let yourself obsess over it. Finish and move on. By the end of your first year, you might start learning more about your rhythm and you will have amassed a few cognitive-behavioral “exposure” exercises demonstrating to you that when you turned in your “good” or merely “great” work, the world did not collapse. This may sound easy, but after a lifetime of praise (including at the start of this chapter) for doing excellent work, it may feel quite uncomfortable for some to go to sleep knowing that you did not complete the days’ tasks as completely and perfectly as you are used to. But getting used to that feeling is in some ways what graduate school requires.

Some students feel fine about “good enough” work on lower priority tasks, but get particularly anxious when they must share their work, for fear that it (or they) may be evaluated negatively. This means that perfectionism kicks in when work will be seen by an instructor, a clinical supervisor, or perhaps especially by a mentor. While all teachers, supervisors, and mentors are different, it is probably safe to say that they will be most impressed by growth, rather than perfection right out of the gate. In other words, it is “safe” to show your mentor work that does not represent your best, especially if you communicate where you think improvement is needed, what you are learning and struggling with, and request support as you strive to improve. Mentors prefer to review imperfect work and help students learn new skills than to see students paralyzed or delayed by unnecessary self-imposed expectations. In fact, the discussions about the struggles to make progress or the areas of growth that are needed are often the most rewarding aspects of mentoring for many who chose this as a profession.

An especially productive conversation during one’s first year of graduate school is to talk explicitly about the concepts articulated in this chapter, so you can get candid input from your advisor about their own tips for surviving their first year of graduate school. How did they learn to balance multiple tasks? What do they feel is worth your highest (and next highest, and so on) priority, and what do they feel will offer the most benefit to your education? How long do they spend completing specific tasks, and where do they feel that moderate effort is sufficient to get the job done and turn to higher priority activities? You may learn a lot about your mentor’s workstyle from a conversation like this, and your mentor may appreciate that you are thinking so deeply about the processes required for successful graduate life.

Conversations like these with your mentor will aid one of the most important parts of your first year – you and your mentor getting to know each other and how you work together. This is the start of a years-long, and hopefully lifelong, working relationship. Many first-year students may initially regard their professors as unapproachable experts and often feel funny about calling them by their first name (as is customary in graduate school). Yet unlike an undergraduate professor, your mentor is there to support you through the entire experience of graduate school, which includes not only the struggles with perfectionism and time management discussed above, but also someone to help you find resources and make your life easier when inevitable stressors emerge. Mentors hopefully will not be pushy, or pry into your personal life, of course, but they may share some information about their own lives in an effort to model natural struggles in academia, and to demonstrate coping skills. Talking with other graduate students is a great way to learn about a mentor’s workstyle and mentoring style, and like all relationships, an open channel of communication will allow you to be more efficient, productive, and satisfied with your mentor. This also includes an honest conversation about the boundaries that allow you to feel most comfortable in this relationship.

2.3 Addressing Procrastination

How long was it from the moment you were accepted to graduate school until the moment you first thought: “Holy crap, I have to write a whole dissertation!”? Or did that moment happen just now when reading the preceding sentence? Most students realize the graduate school is a big deal and in addition to the dissertation, there are several important hurdles that each may feel like a big deal (i.e., your master’s, your first presentation in front of the faculty, your qualifying exams, your first patient) – so much so, that it may be hard to get started. This happens to many smart and accomplished people, and it does not reflect weakness or disorganization; it is a sign of respect that you have for the heft of the task before you and your desire to do well. If that pause before working is helpful and allows you to organize your thoughts before working, then all is okay. But if it starts to interfere with the ability to work at all, then it has officially become procrastination.

A note on procrastination and coursework: it can be tempting to use graduate coursework as a way of procrastinating or avoiding one’s own research. This may be a deceptive form of procrastination, as you are still working on something you need to do, but prioritizing coursework before research can be a way of avoiding the more difficult (and, arguably, more important) task of working on one’s own research. Further, students may take comfort in coursework because grades provide semesterly feedback, and validation for students’ efforts, something that may be sparse in other aspects of graduate school. While coursework may feel more manageable, straightforward, or familiar, setting aside protected research time is critical. For instance, some students may find it helpful to dedicate specific days to coursework and others to research, or to set time limits on course assignments.

There should be no “all-nighters” in graduate school, or other last-minute strategies to complete your work, because this is not sustainable for your career. As noted above, this is a time to develop habits that will last you a lifetime. You may have never completed tasks like those assigned to you in graduate school; thus, you won’t necessarily know how much time you need to complete each one. Large tasks can be easily chunked into smaller bits, colloquial drafts can be polished later, and voice memos in your phone can be transcribed later to help you turn what you may find easy to talk about into written prose later, without the experience of a blank screen staring at you judgmentally (note: writing “private drafts” to express what you are really thinking before you start writing the version you will turn in also is a remarkably effective strategy to get started when one is “over-thinking” their work). Procrastination also can be driven by exhaustion or burnout; taking regular breaks is critical. Stepping away from work is important not only for one’s mental health, but also for productivity and for idea generation. Students who have never procrastinated before may find strategies like these helpful when they encounter their first “block” or resistance to working in graduate school. If this happens to you, take it as a good sign. Your strategies in secondary school and in college should not work for you here. This is graduate school and it is not the same type of “school” at all. It should feel different; you should be challenged in new ways; your drafts should have so many track changes from your mentor that the page looks like it is bleeding; and you should feel like you could easily become overwhelmed with opportunities and projects to complete. That’s how we grow in graduate school.

3. Getting Support

Graduate school is not quite like medical or law school, and is very different from a full-time job that one may get in the business world, or at a local commercial establishment. It may be hard to find support because it often takes so long to explain to people what exactly your life is like now. Your fellow graduate student peers may be an outstanding resource for you as you begin.

Graduate school represents a period of unprecedented change and growth for many of us, and having others to commiserate and empathize may be a social necessity. If you have entered your program with other first-year students, this cohort represents a group of individuals who will most likely have similar interests, ambitions, and prior experiences. As discussed earlier, first-year graduate students are thrust into a brand new social environment, often without the comfort of their close friends nearby. Luckily, most others in your class also likely have recently vacant social lives, providing a mutually beneficial opportunity for friendship. These individuals can uniquely relate to the trials and tribulations that may arise during the first year of graduate school. Additionally, growing close with your fellow graduate students may confer unique academic opportunities. Having a small group of individuals to share ideas related to coursework or research is enormously beneficial. Fellow first years also can provide expertise in their specific niches, and thus are valuable resources for fresh perspectives and collaboration across a variety of diverse topics. Indeed, brainstorming creative ways to intertwine your own research interests with those of your peers can lead to exciting projects which may intersect multiple subfields of psychology. But of course, beware – these interactions with your peers are also fertile ground for social comparisons, particularly if your friend asks you if you’re planning on applying for some fancy grant you’ve never heard of, or mentions they are pulling together a symposium for a conference while you’re working on your first poster. Try to turn these moments of intimidation or insecurity into inspiration. Everyone learns and reaches milestones at different rates and it will be all the more sweet when you can motivate and celebrate each other. Anecdotally, it is more common than not that the student you were in awe of as a first year will tell you years later that it was you that seemed intimidating to them.

4. Starting Your Research

You talked about research in your graduate school applications, you discussed it in your interviews, you have tried to explain it to your family and friends a zillion times (“No, it is not just searching for things on Google”) and now you are here, and everyone says you are supposed to get started doing research.

Umm … do what, exactly? How do I start doing this, and why does everyone talk to me like I understand what ‘research’ is already?

If you are a first-year student who has had this thought, know that you are not alone. Many first-year students have had experience assisting graduate students or faculty with their own work, but many have never been an “independent” or principal investigator on their own. So you may feel ready to “run subjects,” supervise undergrads, or search PsychInfo, but you may not feel like you are clear on the steps needed to start your own research program. This makes the first year of graduate school potentially challenging and anxiety-provoking.

Let’s start at the very beginning. As a first-year student, “doing research” could mean a million (well, ok, actually about a dozen) different things, including reading articles on topics that interest you, learning about available data sets in your advisor’s lab, reading the study protocol from recent studies done by your peers and advisors, reading the human subjects or grant applications that support your lab’s work, watching videos of prior subject “runs,” running some simple descriptive statistics (e.g., means, correlations) on available data sets, watching conference presentations online, or just sitting around and thinking of hypotheses that could be interesting to test. As a first-year graduate student, all of this “counts” as research, and it is probably useful to establish a foundation of knowledge about prior work in the field, extant resources, and a self-assessment of what excited you the most. Particularly essential – ask tons of questions of your peers and mentor about their recent research: what did they study, why, how did they think about prior work in the field, how is their work unique, where do they think the field is going, what were their initial ideas and what pitfalls did they experience, what have they recently discussed in the lab, what other investigators do they follow, and so on, and so on. You find yourself now in an exceptionally rich intellectual environment, surrounded by faculty and students. Use the people around you as resources. In addition to learning from their answers to these questions, you can and should explore collaboration possibilities, ask for help, ask them if they have access to the software you need, bounce ideas off each other, share skills, or just enjoy their friendship and social support. If the first year of graduate school is meant to develop your ability to “think” like a researcher, then these conversations will be enormously helpful to achieve that goal. Don’t worry about bothering people, because enjoying these types of discussions is likely a large part of why they are in academia to begin with.

Based on your lab, and how data are collected, analyzed, and prepared for presentation/publication, you may have an opportunity (or requirement) to begin coming up with your own research questions. See the sections above in this chapter about the best way to get started with this task, without becoming plagued by time management challenges, paralyzing perfectionism, or procrastination. It is helpful to develop a system for keeping track of ideas, whether in a notebook, spreadsheet, or other format. You may also consider saving relevant research articles or identifying and following researchers whose publications interest you. In fact, if you feel comfortable thinking of research ideas early in your first year, or by the beginning of your second year, you may want to even consider applying for a graduate fellowship. This is briefly discussed below. Lastly, the research idea phase can seem daunting, undefined, and limitless; it may be that starting a project (e.g., a fellowship application, publication) even before you have finalized your research focus is necessary in order to move forward. Often research ideas are developed in the writing process, and beginning a project can help when the brainstorming phase begins to feel stagnant.

Once you begin writing, you may notice an interesting quandary: most scientific writing in our field has an authoritative and didactic tone, often using statements that seem to capture an entire field or trend with decades of knowledge behind it (e.g., “For a scientific discipline focusing on the study of behavior, it is ironic that so few investigators have examined the behaviors that best predict scientific productivity”). Yet, first-year students almost never have the experience to encapsulate an entire body of literature with statements such as these, making it hard to write in the manner that academic scholarship may require.

This is one reason why it is so common for even fantastic writers to go through many, many drafts when they begin writing scientific presentations and publications in graduate school. Each draft leads the writer back to the literature to learn more, which helps inform both changes in the content and writing style of the next draft, and so on. Nevertheless, first-year students can rely on two tips to help them accelerate the development of their scientific writing acumen. First, a terrific and recent review paper (especially in a high-impact journal) is worth its weight in gold. If done correctly, a paper that has well summarized the extant literature and listed areas of repetition vs. gaps has given you most of what you need to begin writing in an authoritative voice. Beware of the literature review that is not very high in quality, or in a highly respected outlet. Of course, you also need to do exhaustive searches of the literature yourself. But a great literature review can help you feel more confident that your conclusions are supported by other experts who may have been in the field for longer than you, and you can probably find many terrific papers to read by searching for the papers in this literature review first.

A second tip will send you back to your mentor’s office, and that’s a good thing. Mentors often have thought deeply about the field and the topic you are writing about, so it is great to simply interview them for their perceptions of the “current state of the literature.” Assuming that your mentor will likely be an author on whatever you are writing in your first year, it is acceptable to include their own perspective in your writing, and even to use their words in your writing (i.e., after all, they are an author too). Some labs may offer you an informal chance to hear your mentor’s perspective on the literature as you discuss recent, relevant papers. If not, then asking your mentor to talk about their opinions, their impressions of other scholars’ work, and why they think your research will make an important contribution is a great way to get started. Mentors think of this as a “scaffolding” approach, to borrow a term from the parenting literature in developmental science. The mentor will give you as much structure as you need to help you stand on your own, and will slowly remove that structure or tangible support to keep you working just beyond your current skill level. Data suggest that is the way that you will keep growing, but never feel like you will fall flat on your face. Let’s acknowledge, however, that this approach has two potentially negative consequences: (1) you may rarely feel fully competent while in graduate school; and (2) you may feel frustrated that your mentor is constantly raising the bar of expectations as the years progress. If this seems true for you, it is always ok to ask your mentor if you are progressing well “based on your current level of training,” to help you gain your footing and know that although you are still growing, you are on track.

4.1 NSF Graduate Research Fellowship

The National Science Foundation (NSF) offers research fellowships to hundreds of young scholars, including those involved in the study of psychological science. These fellowships require only a few pages of essays (i.e., one is similar to a personal statement, the other is a research proposal). Applicants can apply either (a) before attending graduate school; and/or (b) in the first or second years of graduate school. Applicants may apply once per eligibility window; in other words, a student may apply before graduate school and, if unsuccessful, may apply once more in the first two years of graduate school. Applicants who receive an honorable mention are not eligible to reapply, and additional eligibility criteria exclude students with a master’s or other professional degree (see the NSF GRFP website for more information on eligibility).

NSF applicants are evaluated differently based on how many years of experience they have at the time of applying. Applications are reviewed by 2–3 scholars with relevant areas of experience broadly (i.e., within all of developmental or cognitive psychology, for instance). An honorable mention is a prestigious honor that can be proudly listed on one’s CV. Fellowship winners get three years of funding (that need not be consecutive) with a stipend significantly higher than most graduate assistantships and access to other potential resources of ancillary experiences afforded to fellowship winners. More information is available at www.nsfgrfp.org/.

Many students in psychology apply for the NSF graduate research fellowship, and it is quite competitive. So is the NIH National Research Service Award (F31 grant) that is available to graduate students when they are planning dissertation-level research. Because the preparation of the application for the NSF has become very common among students in research-oriented doctoral programs, a few tips are offered here.

First, as noted above, applicants are evaluated based on their level of training, and those with above average accomplishments are naturally likely to stand out from their peers. Often, this is evaluated by the number of presentations at national conferences or publications in high-impact peer-reviewed journals. Applicants applying as an undergraduate or post-baccalaureate typically have zero publications; thus, authorship on two may gain favorable notice. This would seem less unusual for a research-oriented student applying at the start of their second year. Applicants with impressive academic pedigrees (i.e., from top-ranked undergraduate institutions, those with very high GPAs) tend to receive more favorable scores in the NSF grant review process (a database of all recipients is available on the NSF website), although an emphasis on diversity and first-generation students in recent years may have helped reviewers move toward more inclusive academic indicators that more equitably reflect achievement across all promising young scholars.

Perhaps most important is that applicants show a lifelong commitment to science, and a strong capacity to develop rigorous and unique scientific questions. The two required essays for the NSF Graduate Research Fellowship, a personal statement and a research proposal statement, offer opportunities for applicants to demonstrate each.

Using one’s personal statement from graduate school admission for the NSF application is not always advisable, whereas using one’s NSF personal statement in a graduate school application can work well. That’s because unlike the typical graduate school statement that begins discussing undergraduate coursework and research experiences and a specific set of refined research questions to match a specific research lab, the successful NSF personal statement essay is far grander. The narrative often starts earlier, with a discussion of a love for science that may have begun very early, a discussion of extracurricular and volunteer activities that demonstrate a penchant for science, and/or a drive to change a major societal issue or injustice through investigation and dissemination of psychological science. NSF reviewers may prefer an applicant who thinks big and has been unusually committed to a cause or an opportunity for change since relatively early in life. Successful applicants weren’t only president of their local Psi Chi chapter, or recognized a variable missing from prior work on a topic; they are more likely to have developed a new student association in high school to address societal issues (e.g., world hunger, disparate access to education, discrimination, etc.), founded or led efforts for a charity, or worked across disciplines to develop innovative new directions for science. Don’t worry – a Nobel prize is not a requirement for the NSF fellowship, but a more typical essay about loving psychology after Psych 101 class, or participating in a lab before you graduated, may not always cut it. While the personal essay should primarily tell a personal narrative, it is wise to draw connections between your prior experiences and the specific research interests or aims articulated in your research proposal essay. For example, if your proposal focuses on mechanisms of emotion regulation, a strong personal statement would include discussion of prior experiences through which an interest in emotion, emotion regulation, or related constructs developed.

NSF reviewers also would like to see the potential for rigorous and innovative scientific questions within the research proposal statement, the second essay of the application. This is a peculiar essay to write because the successful applicant is not necessarily expected to actually conduct the research proposed in the application (i.e., funds are not provided to conduct a large-scale study, and as many applicants don’t know where they will go to graduate school, it is unknown whether subject populations or necessary resources will be available to conduct the proposed research). Yet the application requests a specific research proposal that might represent the best possible study (not a fantasy study, but an actual, potentially feasible one) that could be done assuming reasonable research resources. Further, the research proposal should avoid an explicitly clinical focus. This is a particular challenge for clinical psychology graduate students, whose research interests, prior research experiences, and graduate coursework largely center around psychopathology and related topics in clinical psychology. However, an NSF application should adopt a more “basic science” approach and avoid focusing on clinical outcomes. This does not mean you need to write a research proposal statement that deviates radically from your research interests; instead, the NSF application may require recasting your interests into a different, though related, research question. It may be helpful to think of constructs that are relevant to clinical psychology (e.g., emotion, development) but that do not necessarily involve psychopathological outcomes. Keep in mind that you will need to select a subdiscipline within psychology under which to submit your research proposal statement (e.g., social, cognitive, developmental, affective, etc.), and that this category can help guide the angle you take in your research proposal.

NSF reviewers have plenty of experience reviewing grants, so you can expect lots of specific comments on small details in the proposed research that could substantially lower one’s score. Most students work on these essays with their mentors, naturally. Mentors don’t write the application, of course, but the process of discussing the proposed research is a learning experience in itself, with applicants finding the balance between their interests and real-world limitations. As with all applications for funding, it is always best to read as many successful and unsuccessful applications as possible when beginning, and to have as many readers of drafts as possible before submitting. The deadline for the NSF fellowship is typically in late October, so this can make for an active jump start to graduate school for those who apply in their first year.

5. Summary

Getting into graduate school is a huge achievement, and the start to an educational pathway that is quite different from the many years of schooling preceding matriculation. You are not expected to know what you are doing when you arrive, and your first year is likely best spent adjusting to a new university, with new colleagues, peers, mentors, and expectations. The first year of graduate school is a great time to establish habits that you can benefit from for decades to come, including the recognition that our field will ask more of you than any human could ever deliver. So it’s essential that you learn how to pace yourself, set expectations that are reasonable, and find ways to be kind to yourself. You will never be less busy from this point forward, but in this year, you can learn to be someone who will keep work stimulating, find ways to be productive, yet also recognize that life is more than your career in psychology.

4 Following the Scientific Path in Applied Psychology

Steven C. Hayes & Nicholas M. Berens

If the average applied psychology student is asked confidentially why they are pursuing a career in their field, the most likely answer is “to help people.” Although this answer is such a cliché that it sometimes causes graduate admissions committee members to wrinkle their noses, in fact it is perfectly appropriate. The ultimate purpose of applied psychology is to alleviate human suffering and promote human health and happiness. Unfortunately, good will does not necessarily imply good outcomes. If mere intentionality were enough, there would never have been a reason for psychology in the first place, because human beings have always desired a happy life and shown compassion for others. It is not enough for psychology students to want to help: one must also know how to help.

In most areas of human skill and competence, “know-how” comes in two forms, and psychology is no exception. Sometimes knowledge is acquired by actually doing a task, perhaps with guidance and shaping from others, and with a great deal of trial and error. This approach is especially helpful when the outcomes of action are immediate, clear, and limited to a specific range of events. Motor skills such as walking or shooting a basketball are actions of that kind. The baby trying to learn to walk stands and then falls hundreds of times before the skill of walking is acquired. The basketball goes through the hoop or it does not, providing just the feedback needed – even experienced players will shoot hundreds of times a day to keep this skill sharp. In areas such as these, “practice makes perfect,” or at least adequate.

Sometimes, however, knowledge is best acquired in part through verbal rules. This approach is especially helpful when a task is complex and the outcomes are probabilistic, delayed, subtle, and multifaceted. You could never learn to send a rocket to the moon or to build a skyscraper through direct experience. For rule-based learning to be effective, however, the rules themselves have to be carefully tested and systematized. One of the greatest inventions of human beings the last 2000 years has been the development of the scientific method as a means of generating and testing rules that work. Human “know-how” has advanced most quickly in areas that are most directly touched by science, as a glance around almost any modern living room will confirm.

The problem faced by students of applied psychology is that the desire to be of help immediately pushes in the direction of “learning by doing” even though often the situations applied psychologists face do not produce outcomes that are immediate, clear, or occur within a known range of options. Consider parents who want to know how to raise their children. There are times that poor advice can seem to produce good immediate outcomes at the expense of long-term success. For example, telling children they are doing wonderfully, no matter what, may feel good initially but the children may grow up with a sense of entitlement and a poor understanding of how hard work is needed to succeed. Similarly, a clinician in psychotherapy can do an infinite number of things. The immediate results are a weak guide to the acquisition of real clinical know-how because effects can be delayed, probabilistic, subtle, and multifaceted.

All of this would be admitted by everyone were it not for two things. First, some aspects of the clinical situation are and need to be responsive to directed shaping and trial and error learning. Experience alone may teach clinicians how to behave in the role of a helper, for example. As the role is acquired, the confidence of clinicians will almost always increase, because the clinician “knows what to do.” Some of this kind of learning is truly important, such as learning to relate to another person in a genuine way, but trial and error does not necessarily lead to an increase in the ability to actually produce desired clinical outcomes. That brings us to the second feature of the situation that can mistakenly capture the actions of students in professional psychology. Clients change for many reasons and what practitioners cannot see, without specific attempts to do so, is what would have happened if the practitioner had done something different. Many medical practices (e.g., blood-letting; mud packs) survived for centuries due to the judgmental bias produced by this process. Many problems wax and wane regardless of intervention, and some features of professional interventions are reassuring and helpful almost regardless of the specifics. Thus, with experience, most practitioners feel not only confident, but also competent, because in general it appears that good outcomes are being achieved. It is natural in these circumstances for the practitioner to respond based on their “clinical experience.”

That is a mistake. Over more than half a century in virtually every area in which clinical judgment is pitted against statistical prediction, statistical prediction does a better job (Grove & Lloyd, 2006). Yet even when faced with clear clinical failures, practitioners are most likely to rely on clinical judgment rather than objective data to determine what to do next (Stewart & Chambless, 2008). This suggests that it can be psychologically difficult to integrate the rules that emerge from research with one actual history of ongoing effort to be of help to others.

Part of the problem is that science can suggest courses of action that are not personally preferred, which takes considerable psychological flexibility to overcome. Consider the use of exposure methods in anxiety disorders, which arguably have stronger scientific support than any other form of psychological intervention for any mental health problem (Abramowitz et al., 2019). Despite overwhelming empirical support, few clients receive this treatment, and when they do, often it is not delivered properly (Farrell et al., 2013). Dissemination research has helped explain this distressing fact. Meta-analyses show that training in exposure increases knowledge about it, but not its use (Trivasse et al., 2020). Instead, what most determines use of exposure is the psychological posture of clinicians themselves. When practitioners are unwilling to feel their own discomfort over causing discomfort in someone else, even if it will help them, they avoid using exposure methods or detune their delivery (Scherr et al., 2015). Problems of this kind abound in evidence-based care. As another example, drug and alcohol counselors need to learn to sit with their discomfort over “using drugs to treat the use of drugs” to encourage the use of methadone for clients addicted to heroin (Varra et al., 2008). Rules alone do not ensure use of evidence-based practices: practitioners themselves need to be open to the psychological difficulties of that scientific journey and scientists need to think of practitioners more as people than as mere tools for dissemination (Hayes & Hofmann, 2018a).

In one sense, scientist-practitioners are those who have deliberately stepped into the ambiguity that lies between the two kinds of “know-how.” They are willing to live with the conflict between the urgency of helping others and the sometimes slow pace of scientific knowledge. Fortunately, due to the past efforts of others, in most areas of applied psychology this is a road that fits with provider values: this openness to discomfort is for a larger purpose. There is considerable evidence that the use of empirically supported procedures increases positive outcomes (Hayes & Hofmann, 2018b). When agencies convert to the use of such methods, client outcomes are better, especially if practitioners are encouraged to fit specific methods to specific client needs (Weisz et al., 2012). Improvements tend to be longer-lasting (Cukrowicz et al., 2011), and staff turnover is reduced (Aarons et al., 2009).

But in other ways, this is a road with difficulties. Most patients given psychosocial treatment do not receive evidence-based care (Wolitzky-Taylor et al., 2015). There are some understandable reasons. Adherence to treatment manuals does not alone guarantee good outcomes (Shadish et al., 2000) and the important work of learning how to use scientifically supported methods in more flexible ways to fit individual needs is still in its infancy (Fisher & Boswell, 2016; Hayes, Hofmann, & Stanton, 2020). It is important to know the specific processes of change that account for the effects of these methods, but that is often not clear (Hayes, Hofmann, & Ciarrochi, 2020; La Greca et al., 2009). While there is considerable evidence that relationship factors are key to many clinical outcomes (Norcross & Wampold, 2011), there remains limited evidence of the specific variables that alter these factors while maintaining positive outcomes (Creed & Kendall, 2005; Hayes, Hofmann, & Ciarrochi, 2020).

What often drives the research of an applied scientist is the possibility of doing a greater amount of good by reaching a larger number of people than could be reached directly. Ultimately the idea that scientifically filtered processes and procedures will help more people more efficiently and effectively is the dream of applied science. Unfortunately, this dream is surprisingly hard to realize. It is difficult to produce research that will be consumed by others and that will make a difference in applied work. For the practitioner, a reliance on scientifically based procedures will not fully remove the tension between clinical experience and scientific forms of knowing, because virtually no technologies exist that are fully curative, and only a fraction of clients will respond fully and adequately based on what is now known.

This chapter is for students who are considering taking “the scientific path” in their applied careers. We will discuss how to be effective within the scientist-practitioner model, whether in the clinic or in the research laboratory. We will briefly examine its history, and then consider how to produce and consume research in a way that makes a difference.

1. History of the Scientist-Practitioner Model

From the early inceptions of applied psychology, science and practice were thought of by many as inseparable. This is exemplified by Lightmer Witmer’s claim that:

The pure and the applied sciences advance in a single front. What retards the progress of one, retards the progress of the other; what fosters one, fosters the other. But in the final analysis the progress of psychology, as of every other science, will be determined by the value and amount of its contributions to the advancement of the human race.

(Witmer, 1907/1996, p. 249.)

This vision began to be formalized in 1947 (Shakow et al., 1947) when the American Psychological Association adopted as standard policy the idea that professional psychology graduate students would be trained both as scientists and as practitioners. In August of 1948 a collection of professionals representing the spectrum of behavioral health care providers met in Boulder, Colorado with the intent of defining the content of graduate training in clinical psychology. One important outcome of this two-week long conference was the unanimous recommendation for the adoption of the scientist-practitioner model of training. At the onset of the conference, not all attendees were in agreement on this issue. Some doubted that a true realization of this model was even possible. Nevertheless, there were at least five general reasons for the unanimous decision.

The first reason was the understanding that specialization in one area versus the other tended to produce a narrowness of thinking, thus necessitating the need for training programs that promoted flexibility in thinking and action. It was believed that such flexibility could be established when “persons within the same general field specialize in different aspects, as inevitably happens, cross-fertilization and breadth of approach are likely to characterize such a profession” (Raimy, 1950, p. 81).

The second reason for the unanimous decision was the belief that training in both practice and research could begin to circumvent the lack of useful scientific information regarding effective practice that was then available. It was hoped that research conducted by those interested in practice would yield information useful in the guidance of applied decisions.

The third reason for the adoption of the scientist-practitioner model was the generally held belief that there would be no problem finding students capable of fulfilling the prescribed training. The final two reasons why the model was ultimately adopted is the cooperative potential for the merger of these two roles. It was believed that a scientist who held at hand many clinical questions would be able to set forth a research agenda adequate for answering these questions, and could expect economic support for research agendas that could be funded by clinical endeavors.

Despite the vision from the Boulder Conference, its earnest implementation was still very much in question. The sentiment was exemplified by Raimy (1950):

Too often, however, clinical psychologists have been trained in rigorous thinking about nonclinical subject matter and clinical problems have been dismissed as lacking in “scientific respectability.” As a result, many clinicians have been unable to bridge the gap between their formal training and scientific thinking on the one hand, and the demands of practice on the other. As time passes and their skills become more satisfying to themselves and to others, the task of thinking systematically and impartially becomes more difficult.

(p. 86)

The scientist-practitioner model was revisited in conference form quite frequently in the years that followed. While these conferences tended to reaffirm the belief in the strength of the model, they also revealed an undercurrent of dissatisfaction and disillusionment with the model as it was applied in practice. The scientist-practitioner split feared by the original participants in the Boulder Conference gradually became more and more of a reality. In 1961, a report published by the Joint Commission on Mental Health voiced concerns regarding this split. In 1965 a conference was held in Chicago where the participants displayed open disgruntlement about the process of adopting and applying the model (Hoch et al., 1966).

The late 1960s and 1970s brought a profound change in the degree of support for the scientist-practitioner model. Professional schools were created, at first within the university setting and then in free-standing form (Peterson, 1968, 1976). The Vail Conference went far beyond previous conferences in explicitly endorsing the creation of doctor of psychology degrees and downplaying the scientist-practitioner model as the appropriate model for professional training in psychology (Korman, 1976). The federal government, however, began to fund well-controlled and large-scale psychosocial research studies, providing a growing impetus for the creation of a research base relevant to practice.

The 1980s and 1990s saw contradictory trends. The split of the American Psychological Society (now the Association for Psychological Science) from the American Psychological Association, a process largely led by scientist-practitioners, reflected the growing discontent of scientist-practitioners in professional psychology disconnected from science (Hayes, 1987). Professional schools, few of which adopted a scientist-practitioner model, proliferated but began to run into economic problems as the managed care revolution undermined the dominance of psychology as a form of independent practice (Hayes et al., 1995). The federal government began to actively promote evidence-based practice, through a wide variety of funded initiatives in dissemination, diffusion, and research/practice collaboration. Research-based clinical practice guidelines began to appear (Hayes & Gregg, 2001), and the field of psychology began to launch formal efforts to summarize a maturing clinical research literature, such as the Division 12 initiative in developing a list of empirically supported treatments (Chambless et al., 1996). An outgrowth of APS, the Academy of Psychological Clinical Science (APCS), began with a 1994 conference on ‘‘Psychological Science in the 21st Century.’’ In 1995, the APCS was formally established and began recognizing doctoral and internship programs that advocated science-based clinical training.

In the 2000s, the movement toward “evidence-based practice” began to take hold in psychology (Goodheart, 2011), but the definition of “evidence” was considerably broadened to give equal weight to the personal experiences of the clinician and to scientific evidence. The penetration of formal scientific evidence into psychological practice continued to be slow (Stewart & Chambless, 2007), which began to receive national publicity. For example, Newsweek ran a story under the title “Ignoring the Evidence: Why do psychologists reject science?” (Begley, 2009). Practical concerns also began to be raised about the dominance of the individual psychotherapy model in comparison to web- and phone-based interventions, self-help approaches, and media-based methods (Kazdin & Blasé, 2011). Treatment guidelines (e.g., Hayes et al., 1995) began to be embraced even by leaders of mainstream psychology (Goodheart, 2011). Finally, more science-based organizations took stronger steps to accredit training programs that emphasize a “clinical scientist” model, and to advocate for these values in the public arena. In 2007 the APCS formally launched the Psychological Clinical Science Accreditation System; in 2011 there were about a dozen doctoral programs accredited by this process; a decade later there are over 60 accredited programs and 12 internships.

The last decade has been what looks like a retrenchment in many ways, but really it is more of a revitalization and reformation of the scientist-practitioner model. A substantial body of evidence about what practices work best is now available, but the systems for disseminating that evidence are faltering. For example, the National Registry of Evidence-Based Programs and Practices maintained by the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration in the United States Department of Health and Human Services (www.nrepp.samhsa.gov/) has been shut down by the United States government, and the list of evidence-based intervention methods maintained by the Clinical Psychology Division of the American Psychological Association is being updated only irregularly. At the same time, professional training programs that eschew the importance of science to day-to-day professional practice continue to grow.

With the publication of the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of the American Psychiatric Association, the funders of research in mental illness appear to have abandoned hope that research focused on syndromes will ever lead to a deep understanding of mental health problems. In part in response to criticisms of the DSM-5, the National Institute on Mental Health (NIMH) established the Research Domain Criteria (RDoC) program that aims to classify mental disorders based on processes of change linked to developmental neurobiological changes (Insel et al., 2010).

Meanwhile, psychology is turning in a more process-based direction as well (Hayes & Hofmann, 2018b), with a greater emphasis on theory-based, dynamic, progressive, contextually bound, modifiable, and multilevel changes or mechanisms that occur in predictable, empirically established sequences oriented toward desirable outcomes (Hofmann & Hayes, 2019). If this transition continues, trademarked protocols linked to syndromes will receive less attention in the future as a model of evidence-based therapy, and comprehensive models of evidence-based processes of change, linked to evidence-based intervention kernels that move these processes, and that help a specific client achieve their desired goals, will receive more attention.

The student of applied psychology needs to think through these issues and consider their implications for professional values. Professionals of tomorrow will face considerable pressures to adopt evidence-based practices. We would argue that this can be a good thing, if psychological professionals embrace their role in the future world of scientifically based professional psychology. Doing so requires learning how to do research that will inform practice, how to assimilate the research evidence as it emerges, and how to incorporate empiricism into practice itself. It is to those topics that we now turn.

2. Doing Research That Makes a Difference

The vast majority of psychological research makes little impact. The modal number of citations for published psychological research between 2005 and 2010 was only two (Kurilla, 2017) and most psychology faculty and researchers are little known outside of their immediate circle of students and colleagues. From this situation we can conclude the following: If a psychology student does what usually comes to mind in psychological research based on the typical research models, he or she will make only a limited impact, because that is precisely what others have done who have come to that end. A more unusual approach is needed to do research that makes a difference.

Making a difference in psychological research can be facilitated by clarity about (a) the nature of science, and (b) the information needs of practitioners.

2.1 The Nature of Science

Science is a rule-generating enterprise that has as its goal the development of increasingly organized statements of relations among events that allow analytic goals to be met with precision, scope, and depth, and based on verifiable experience. There are two key aspects to this definition. First, the product of science is verbal rules based on experiences that can be shared with others. Agreements about scientific method within particular research paradigms tell us how and when certain things can be said: for example, conclusions can be reached when adequate controls are in place, or when adequate statistical analyses have been done. A great deal of emphasis is placed on these issues in psychology education (e.g., issues of “internal validity” and “scientific method”) and we have little additional to offer in this chapter on those topics.

Second, these rules have five specific properties of importance: organization, analytic utility, precision, scope, and depth. Scientific products can be useful even when they are not organized (e.g., when a specific fact is discovered that is of considerable importance), but the ultimate goal is to organize these verbal products over time. That is why theories and models are so central to mature sciences.

The verbal products of science are meant to be useful in accomplishing analytic ends. These ends vary from domain to domain and from paradigm to paradigm. In applied psychology, however, the most important analytic ends are implied by the practical goal of the field itself – namely, the prediction and influence of psychological events of practical importance. Not all research practices are equal in producing particular analytic ends. For example, understanding or prediction are of little utility in actually influencing target phenomena if the important components of the theory cannot be manipulated directly. For that reason, it helps to start with the end goal and work backward to the scientific practices that could reach that goal. We will do so shortly by considering the research needs of practitioners.

Finally, we want theories that apply in highly specified ways to given phenomena (i.e., they are precise); apply to a broad range of phenomena (i.e., they have scope); and are coherent across different levels of analysis in science, such as across biology and psychology (i.e., they have depth). Of these, the easiest to achieve is precision, and perhaps for this reason the most emphasis in the early days of clinical science was on the development of manuals and technical descriptions that are precise and replicable. Perhaps the hardest dimension to achieve, however, is scope, and, as we will argue in a moment, that is the property most missing in our current approaches to applied psychology.

2.2 The Knowledge Needed by Practitioners

Over 50 years ago, Gordon Paul eloquently summarized the empirical question that arises for the practitioner: “what treatment, by whom, is most effective for this individual with that specific problem, and under which set of circumstances does that come about” (Paul, 1969). Clients have unique needs, and unique problems. For that reason, practitioners need scientific knowledge that tells them what to do to be effective with the specific people with whom they work. It must explain how to change things that are accessible to the practitioner so that better outcomes are obtained. Practitioners also need scientifically established know-how that is broadly applicable to the practical situation and can be learned and flexibly applied with a reasonable amount of effort and in a fashion that is respectful of their professional role.

Clinical manuals have been a major step forward in developing scientific knowledge that can focus on things the clinician can manipulate directly in the practical situation, but not enough work has gone into how to develop manuals that are easy to master and capable of being flexibly applied to clients with unique combinations of needs (Kendall & Beidas, 2007). With the proliferation of empirically supported manuals, more needs to be done to come up with processes that can allow the field to synthesize and distill down the essence of disparate technologies, and combine essential features of various technologies into coherent treatment plans for individuals with mixed needs.

That is a major reason that a focus on processes of change has grown. In essence, Paul’s question is being reformulated to this one: “What core biopsychosocial processes should be targeted with this client given this goal in this situation, and how can they most efficiently and effectively be changed?” (Hofmann & Hayes, 2019, p. 38.)

The only way that question can be answered is through models and theories that apply to the individual case. It is often said that practitioners avoid theory and philosophy in favor of actual clinical techniques, but an examination of popular psychology books read by practitioners shows that this is false. Practitioners need knowledge with scope, because they often face novel situations with unusual combinations of features. Popular books take advantage of this need by presenting fairly simplified models, often ones that can be expressed in a few acronyms, that claim to have broad applicability.

Broad models and theories are needed in the practice environment because they provide a basis for the use of knowledge when confronted with a new problem or situation, and suggest how to develop new kinds of practical techniques. In addition, because teaching based purely on techniques can become disorganized and incoherent as techniques proliferate, theory and models make scientific knowledge more teachable.

Book publishers, workshop organizers, and others in a position to know how practitioners usually react often cringe if researchers try to get too theoretical, but this makes sense given the kind of theories often promulgated by researchers, which are typically complicated, narrow, limited, and arcane. Worse, many theories do not tell clinicians what to do because they do not focus primarily on how to change external variables. Clinical theory is not an end in itself, and thus should not be concerned primarily about “understanding” separated from prediction and influence, nor primarily with the unobservable or unmanipulable.

To be practically useful, psychological theories and models must also be progressive, meaning that they evolve over time to raise new, interesting, and empirically productive questions that generate coherent data. It is especially useful if the model can be developed and modified to fit a variety of applied and basic issues. They also need to be as simple as possible, both in the sense that they are easy to learn and in the sense that they simplify complexity where that can be done.

Finally, to be truly useful, applied research must fit the practical and personal realities of the practice environment. It does no good to create technologies that no one will pay for, that are too complicated for systems of care to adopt, that do not connect with the personal experiences of practitioners, that are focused on methods of delivery that cannot be mounted, or that focus on targets of change that are not of importance. For that reason, applied psychology researchers must be intimately aware of what is happening in the world of practice (e.g., what is managed care?; how are practitioners paid?; what problems are most costly to systems of care?; and so on). The growth of websites, apps, bibliotherapy, peer support, and other ways of delivering psychological help indirectly is exploding. The expansion of psychology from mental health to physical and behavioral health, as well as social health in areas such as prejudice and stigma, is obvious.

2.3 Research of Importance

Putting all of these factors together, applied research programs that make a difference tend to reach the practitioner with a combination both of a technology and an underlying theory or model that illuminates how processes of change apply to the individual case and that is progressive, simplifying, fits with the practical realities of applied work, and is learnable, flexible, appealing, effective, broadly applicable, and important. This is a challenging formula, because it demands a wide range of skills from psychological researchers who hope to make an applied impact. Anyone can create a treatment and try to test it. Anyone can develop a narrow “model” and examine a few empirical implications. What is more difficult is figuring out how to develop broadly applicable models that are conceptually simple and interesting and that have clear and unexpected technological implications. Doing so requires living in both worlds: science and practice. The need for this breadth of focus also helps makes sense of the need for broad knowledge of psychological science that is often pursued in more scientifically based clinical programs.

3. The Practical Role of the Scientist-Practitioner

In the practical environment, the scientist-practitioner is an individual who performs three primary roles. First, the scientist-practitioner is a consumer of research, able to identify, acquire, and apply empirically supported treatments and assessments to those in need. This requires well-developed practical skills, but it also requires substantial empirical skills. The purpose of this consumption is to put empirically based procedures into actual practice.

Second, the scientist-practitioner evaluates his or her own program and practices. The modern day scientist-practitioner “must not only be a superb clinician capable of supervising interventions, and intervening directly on difficult cases, but must also be intimately familiar with the process of evaluating the effectiveness of interventions … and must adapt the scientific method to practical settings” (Hayes et al., 1999, p. 1). This requires knowledge of time series or “single case” research designs, clinical replications series, effectiveness research approaches, and idiographic analysis of change processes viewed as complex networks, among others. Additive model group research methods, which use existing programs as a kind of baseline and thus raise far fewer ethical issues than group research protocols with no treatment control groups, are also gaining in popularity in applied settings.

Third, the scientist-practitioner reports advances to applied and scientific communities, contributing both to greater understanding of applied problems and to the evolution of effective systems of care. In today’s landscape, a wide variety of contributions are possible from practical sites.

For example, clinical replications series and open effectiveness trials in applied settings are highly valued in the empirical clinical literature (e.g., Persons et al., 1999; Watkins et al., 2011). Clinical replication series are large collections of single case experimental designs and empirical case studies using well-defined treatment approaches and intensive measurement. Their purpose is to determine rates of successes and failures, and factors that contribute to these outcomes, in a defined patient group.

These kinds of contributions are essential to the overall goal of developing scientific know-how that will help alleviate human suffering. Clinical replication series provide an excellent example. For clinical research to be useful to practitioners, it must be known what kinds of client are most likely to respond to what kinds of treatments in the real-world setting. Indeed, sometimes methods that succeed in highly controlled efficacy trials fail in effectiveness trials when real-world issues are factored in (e.g., Hallfors et al., 2006). This question cannot be adequately answered purely based on data from major research centers because the number and variety of clients needed to address such questions are much too large. Only practitioners have the client flow and practical interest that formal clinical replication series demand.

As processes of change have come to the fore, the role of idiographic research has also been increasingly emphasized (Hayes et al., 2019). That is true for several reasons, but a profound one is that behavioral science is realizing what the physical sciences concluded 90 years ago: processes of change based on analysis of collections of individual units will apply to those individual units only if they are “ergodic,” that is, if they are identical and unchanging (Molenaar & Campbell, 2009). That means that psychology will not be able to understand how change processes work unless they begin with idiographic findings, and only the practice base has adequate access to the numbers of cases needed, one at a time.

3.1 The Scientist-Practitioner in Organized Healthcare Delivery Systems

The combination of roles embraced by scientist-practitioners give them a special place in the healthcare marketplace as organized systems of care become more dominant. No one else is better prepared to help triage clients into efficient methods of intervention, to train and supervise others in the delivery of cost effective and empirically based approaches, to deliver these approaches themselves, to work with complicated or unresponsive cases to learn how to innovate new approaches, and to evaluate these delivery systems.

4. Looking Ahead

The history of science suggests that, in the long run, society will ultimately embrace scientific knowing over know-how that emerges from trial and error whenever substantial scientific evidence exists. That has happened in architectural and structural design, public health, physical medicine, food safety, and myriad other areas, presumably because scientific know-how is a better guide to effective practices. The same shift is beginning to occur in mental health and substance abuse areas. But while progress has been made in the identification of techniques that are effective with specific problems or in promoting specific goals, it is clear that we still have a long way to go. Today’s students will help decide how fast the transition to an empirically based profession will be.

If the trends seen in other fields are a good guide, ultimately applied psychology will be required to adopt an evidence-based model. In the present day, however, professional trends continue to pull the field in both directions. Some in the practice leadership have argued against embracing the movement toward empirically supported treatments, preferring instead the adoption of new forms of professional training (e.g., pharmacotherapy training).

Meanwhile, changes in the field itself make the scientist-practitioner model more viable than ever. For example, the skills needed to add value to organized behavioral healthcare delivery systems are precisely those emphasized by the scientist-practitioner model. Idiographic analysis of processes of change requires a vast network of evidence-based practitioners. Expansion from mental health to behavioral health and a positive social goal will require careful empirical thinking. The scientist-practitioner model may yet provide the common ground upon which psychology as a discipline can become more relevant to human society.

Students of professional psychology will have a large role in determining how these struggles for identity will ultimately work themselves out. The scientific path is not an easy one for applied psychology students to take, but for the sake of humanity, it seems to be the one worth taking.

5 Impostor Syndrome in Graduate School

Donte L. Bernard & Steven Stone-Sabali

1. Introduction

Congratulations for either beginning or continuing your journey as a psychology graduate student! From an outsider’s perspective, attending graduate school can be viewed as a very exciting accomplishment. As such, family and friends likely shower you with supportive comments such as, “You’re so smart!”, “We had no doubt you’d get in!”, “We always knew you’d be successful!” While you may certainly share in this excitement, you may also find yourself thinking: “Wow. I really got accepted into graduate school? This had to be a mistake!”, “I doubt that I’m actually qualified.”, “It’s only a matter of time until everyone realizes I’m not as smart as they think.”

If this internal dialogue sounds familiar it’s likely that you’ve experienced (or are currently experiencing) what is formally known as the impostor syndrome, also referred to as the impostor phenomenon. However, don’t worry, because all is not lost. You are indeed qualified, and you certainly do belong in your graduate program. Furthermore, you are not alone in experiencing impostor syndrome. On the contrary, the impostor syndrome is a common (yet seldom discussed) experience that is particularly salient in graduate school. Thus, the purpose of this chapter is to provide an overview of impostor syndrome, factors that may influence the intensity of impostor cognitions, and ways that graduate students can adaptively navigate these unhelpful ways of thinking.

2. What is Impostor Syndrome?

The impostor syndrome represents a maladaptive set of cognitions that impedes individuals’ ability to internalize their own success and take pride in their accomplishments. Specifically, the impostor syndrome refers to internal beliefs of intellectual incompetence among high-achieving individuals that are typically accompanied by difficulties internalizing success and chronic fears of being discovered as a “fraud.” Despite objective evidence of professional and/or academic success, individuals who endorse high levels of impostor syndrome often question how they have obtained a particular position or status (“How did I get into this graduate program?”), believe that they have somehow deceived those around them (“My acceptance into this program was due to some kind of error”), and worry that one day their self-perceived sense of fraudulence will be confirmed by others (“Someone will figure out that I don’t belong”).

While initially coined to capture the experiences expressed by high-achieving women (Clance & Imes, 1978), the impostor syndrome is a nearly ubiquitous experience. In fact, one study estimates that up to 70 percent of people in the United States (Matthews & Clance, 1985) will experience impostor syndrome at some point in their lifetime. To this end, scholars have established the relevance of impostor syndrome among both males and females in a range of different contexts including adolescents (Bernard & Neblett, 2018), high school students (Cromwell et al., 1990), undergraduate and graduate students (Cowie et al., 2018; Stone et al., 2018), faculty and professors (Hutchins, 2015; Hutchins et al., 2018), and medical professionals (Mattie et al., 2008; Villwock et al., 2016). In fact, even high-profile figures who have reached the pinnacle of success in their respective professions such as Maya Angelou, Michelle Obama, Tom Hanks, Ryan Reynolds, and Serena Williams (just to name a few) have spoken about their own experiences of impostor syndrome.

Despite its prevalence, impostor syndrome “represents a private, internal, emotional experience” (Lane, 2015, p. 117), which may prevent individuals from acknowledging or speaking about their feelings of intellectual incompetence, especially within highly competitive and evaluative contexts such as graduate school. Thus, while it is almost certain that you will encounter conversations about impostor syndrome with peers (and maybe even professors), don’t be surprised if folks are hesitant to have in-depth conversations about the origins or severity of their impostor-related thoughts and feelings. With that being said, it is important to recognize that there may be variation in impostor experiences. For some, impostor syndrome is fleeting and manifests within acute instances of stress that may not cause any marked issues over time. However, for others, impostor syndrome represents a more chronic set of thoughts and feelings that can make their already difficult graduate school journey all the more stressful.

Chronic experiences of impostor syndrome are stressful and taxing, and erroneous self-perceptions of fraudulence (i.e., impostor syndrome thoughts) have even been linked to increased anxiety and depressive symptoms (Austin et al., 2009; Bernard et al., 2017; Cokley et al., 2017). Furthermore, individuals who experience impostor syndrome may also set extremely high standards of perfection; typically as a strategy to reduce the chances that they will somehow be “discovered” as a fraud (Clance & Imes, 1978; Clance & O’Toole, 1987). While these perfectionistic standards may manage the impressions of others, they may also cause individuals to become overly focused on negative evaluations, mistakes, and instances of falling short of their very high standards (i.e., perfection). For instance, although criticism, feedback, and failure represent normative experiences associated with graduate school (e.g., receiving extensive feedback on a research paper, having findings questioned at a research conference, not winning a competitive fellowship), individuals who experience impostor syndrome may be more likely to internalize and misinterpret a lack of success as confirmatory evidence of their perceived lack of ability. As a result, they may experience increased anxiety about future academic-related evaluations. Thus, it follows that individuals with higher levels of impostor syndrome have also been found to report lower levels of self-esteem and lower levels of general and academic self-concept (Cokley et al., 2015; Schubert & Bowker, 2019). In light of this evidence, it is perhaps not surprising that the literature has connected impostor syndrome to symptoms of mental fatigue, exhaustion, and burnout among students pursuing advanced degrees (Legassie et al., 2008; Villwock et al., 2016).

3. Distinguishing Impostor Syndrome

The impostor syndrome has many similarities with other constructs relating to self-perceptions of competence, yet it represents a conceptually valid and distinct construct (Cozzarelli & Major, 1990; Kolligian Jr. & Sternberg, 1991). To avoid confusion, it is important to highlight the defining and differentiating characteristics of impostor syndrome from other conceptually similar constructs before moving forward. For example, impostor syndrome and self-efficacy, or an individual’s beliefs regarding their abilities, appear to be similar in nature. However, at a conceptual level, an individual with low self-efficacy might feel and perform poorly on tasks, whereas an individual experiencing impostor syndrome may feel incompetent in spite of objective evidence of competence, such as a strong performance on an exam (Lane, 2015; Leary et al., 2000). Thus, while self-efficacy may accurately map onto an individual’s performance on a particular task, feelings of impostor syndrome are inconsistent and in conflict with their high levels of objective success.

Social anxiety and its associated symptoms also bear strong resemblance to impostor syndrome (Leary et al., 2000). However, social anxiety is marked by significant fears of scrutiny from others, which causes considerable impairment in social, academic, or vocational contexts (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). In contrast, individuals endorsing high levels of impostor syndrome are high-achieving and excel (Kumar & Jagacinski, 2006), despite disparaging internal beliefs of intellectual inferiority (Ross & Krukowski, 2003). As posited by Chrisman and colleagues (1995), impostor cognitions of intellectual incompetence may undergird desires to be perceived by others in a positive light, and as such serve as the impetus for social anxiety.

Finally, it is also important to distinguish impostor syndrome from stereotype threat – the threat of confirming a negative social stereotype about one’s own group (Steele & Aronson, 1995). Although similar, research suggests that stereotype threat operates to impair performance when activated within specific evaluative settings and situations (Spencer et al., 2016). Conversely, impostor syndrome has been conceptualized to permeate beyond any one particular setting (Chrisman et al., 1995). As noted by McClain et al. (2016), “the nature of impostor syndrome as an emergent identity might allow impostor cognitions to be present across contexts and, thus, may affect various domains” (p. 103). Therefore, the impostor syndrome may represent a chronic experience that is unbound to a specific context, thereby distinguishing it from the relatively situationally activated nature of stereotype threat.

4. Impostor Syndrome in Graduate School

The academic context is among the most fertile grounds for impostor syndrome to thrive, especially among graduate students. Why might this be? Pursuing a graduate degree is a major commitment that commonly uproots students, placing them within unfamiliar environments that sometimes are a considerable distance from friends and family. This major life transition can feel isolating, particularly at the onset of graduate school, as students are attempting to learn the ropes of a new academic institution. For some students, this transition may feel like a true “fish out of the water” moment, as they begin to learn the expectations and demands of being in graduate school (“You want me to see patients?!”). This is only compounded by the inevitable social comparisons made with cohort members and other graduate students. Indeed, although there is no “right way” to get into graduate school, it is easy to make assumptions about the intellect and capabilities of fellow cohort members who came straight from their undergraduate degree, who had impressive jobs before coming to graduate school, or who come into graduate school with other advanced degrees, at the expense of our own laurels. These comparisons only continue as students matriculate through their program as individuals begin publishing manuscripts, applying for competitive awards or fellowships, and defending theses and dissertations.

From its onset, pursuing a psychology graduate degree can be a particularly stressful time that is characterized by a constant state of evaluation by course professors (e.g., class performance), mentors (e.g., semester evaluations), research reviewers (peer review process), and even clinical patients, which may feel particularly anxiety-provoking and overwhelming. And although the pursuit of a psychology graduate degree comes with milestones worthy of celebration (e.g., having manuscripts published, presenting at conferences), these high points are infrequent and often overshadowed by the more mundane and stressful realities of pursuing a graduate degree (e.g., rejected manuscripts, competing responsibilities, personal demands) that can lead to the development of impostor syndrome.

5. The Impostor Cycle in Graduate School

Although graduate students may readily identify with impostor syndrome, it may be more challenging to provide a first-person account of the precipitating or sequential events that caused impostor cognitions. To this end, the “impostor cycle” represents one possible sequence of events and behavioral patterns that are typical of impostor syndrome and the manifestation of impostor cognitions (Sakulku & Alexander, 2011). As depicted in Figure 5.1, the impostor cycle begins with an academic- or graduate school-related task (e.g., an exam; teaching a lecture for the first time) in which one’s performance will be evaluated or observed by others. Graduate students with higher baselines of anxieties stemming from fears of negative evaluation may attempt to alleviate these concerns by over-preparing (e.g., excessive studying; overworking to prepare for a client) or self-handicapping behaviors (e.g., procrastination) followed by frantic last-minute preparation. When the task is completed, individuals may experience a brief, yet temporary, sense of relief, which is often followed by positive feedback on performance or praise on successful completion of the initial task. Rather than interpreting positive feedback and objective success as evidence of their own intellectual ability, individuals experiencing impostor syndrome may minimize their accomplishments and instead attribute their success to over-preparation or luck, dependent upon how they approached the initial task. Previous research notes that individuals who experience impostor syndrome hold fixed beliefs about the mechanics of success, and as a result do not equate over-preparation or hard work as a sign of true intellectual ability (Clance, 1985). Thus, when faced with the next task, fears of negative evaluation or failure may only be heightened as impostor cognitions lead individuals to believe that their previous success was erroneous and outside of their control, therefore reinforcing tendencies to over-prepare.

Figure 5.1 Impostor cycle.

(adapted from Sakulku & Alexander, 2011)

While the impostor cycle represents a general pattern of beliefs and behaviors that may occur throughout graduate school, it is important to acknowledge that this cycle may look different as students matriculate through their program. As an example of these differences, we contrast the experiences of hypothetical first-year and fifth-year students.

5.1 First-Year Student

Serena is a first-year graduate student attending a prominent graduate school in clinical psychology. Serena did not take a gap year after receiving her undergraduate degree and transitioned immediately to her graduate program. As Serena begins her program, she is surprised to find that many of her cohort members are older, have more research and clinical experience than she does, and seem to be more comfortable and familiar with course content than she is. When faced with her first graduate research paper as a part of a psychological neuroscience course, Serena experiences significant anxiety and worry that she may fail, and fears that if she fails, others in her program will find out that she is not qualified to be in graduate school. In efforts to combat this anxiety, Serena spends the next two months leading up to writing the paper conducting extensive literature reviews that extend well-beyond the scope of the research paper, frequently at the expense of other academic, professional, and personal responsibilities. Following completion of this paper, Serena experiences an initial sense of relief when she receives a high score on her assignment and positive praise from her professor, but is disheartened when she overhears her peer mention that she received a higher passing score and that her assignment was written only a day before the due date. Upon hearing this, Serena begins to question the grade, and positive feedback, thinking to herself “I only received this grade because of the excessive amount of work I put into this paper. How am I going to keep this up?” This internal dialogue increases feelings of self-doubt, causing this impostor cycle to continue as she is faced with her next exam.

5.2 Fifth-Year Student

Robert, a fifth-year graduate student in clinical psychology, is working to complete his dissertation. Although a highly successful student, Robert is feeling overwhelmed with his growing “to-do” list and finds himself worrying and doubting that he will ever be able to complete his project. Although knowing that a draft of the introduction chapter of his dissertation is due to his advisor next week, Robert remains focused on other negligible tasks such as references and figures that prevent him from working on the content of the introduction. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he thinks to himself, until the day before it is due, which leads to Robert frantically working on a draft of his introduction well into the night. In finishing a draft of his introduction chapter, Robert experiences a short-lived bout of relief, until he receives an email with his advisor’s feedback. Initially panicked, Robert is surprised to see that the feedback he received is overwhelmingly positive. However, realizing that he has several more sections of the paper to write, Robert feels that he may have “pulled one over” on his advisor, and thinks to himself “I got lucky on writing this one. How many more times can I keep doing this before my advisor figures me out?” This external attribution of success to uncontrollable factors such as luck or good fortune makes Robert feel especially anxious, knowing that his advisor will be reading additional chapters that are increasingly complex to write. As such, Robert may become apprehensive of writing more demanding chapters in fear that he will not be able to replicate the same quality of work, thus causing the impostor cycle to repeat itself.

While these vignettes are just two examples of what the impostor cycle may look like, they serve to exemplify similar impostor-related patterns in very different situations. To be sure, there is no “right way” to experience impostor syndrome, and you may find yourself resonating more with one vignette over the other, a combination of both, or neither. Further, while the examples provided above explain the basic pattern of the impostor cycle, they in no way capture the complexity of the ways in which this cycle may manifest. Indeed, a myriad of factors at the individual and contextual level can individually and conjointly impact the saliency of impostor syndrome. Accordingly, we provide below an abbreviated review of some of the empirical correlates of impostor syndrome.

6. Correlates of Impostor Syndrome

As mentioned earlier, the graduate school setting is a prime environment for impostor experiences to surface and thrive. Thus, it is important to be aware of where impostor syndrome comes from and what makes it worse. Despite its inception more than 30 years ago, there is little consensus as to where impostor syndrome originates. Several studies have hypothesized various origin points, with some suggesting familial messages (Clance & Imes, 1978), others suggesting self-presentational concerns (Leary et al., 2000), and others suggesting that it may be societal messages and experiences (Bernard & Neblett, 2018; Stone et al., 2018). While we may not be able to precisely locate where experiences of impostor syndrome stem from, there is an abundance of research that may shed light onto what makes impostor syndrome worse.

A general consensus in the literature is that impostor syndrome does not exist in a vacuum. Rather, the prevalence, salience, and impact of impostor syndrome within graduate school can be considerably influenced by several individual and contextual factors. To this end, a brief review of these factors is warranted, as some (or many) may resonate with experiences you have had to navigate as you have prepared to begin your graduate degree in psychology, or as you have matriculated through your program. However, as a caveat, the overview presented below represents a brief review of individual and contextual factors related to impostor syndrome and by no means is exhaustive. A more detailed analysis of these factors can be seen in other papers (Bernard & Neblett, 2018; Bravata et al., 2019; Peteet et al., 2015a; Sakulku & Alexander, 2011; Stone et al., 2018).

6.1 Individual-Level Factors

Existing research has documented a wide range of individual characteristics relevant to graduate students that may set the stage for and ultimately perpetuate impostor syndrome. For example, at its core, impostor syndrome reflects a wide set of psychologically disparaging cognitions that stem from an internalized fear of negative evaluation (Vergauwe et al., 2014). Furthermore, several studies have documented an inverse association between self-esteem and impostor syndrome (Chrisman et al., 1995; Kolligian Jr. & Sternberg, 1991; Neureiter & Traut-Mattausch, 2016; Topping & Kimmel, 1985). As such, some have argued that impostor syndrome actually represents an underlying self-esteem issue, especially among graduate students (Schubert & Bowker, 2019).

Several personality traits that are associated with higher baselines of anxiety, worry, and interpersonal concern have also been shown to be positively associated with impostor syndrome. More specifically, neuroticism has been found to be a particularly robust predictor of impostor syndrome (Ross et al., 2001). As discussed in previous research, higher levels of neuroticism may increase risk for internal distress, self-doubt, and poor self-evaluations (Bernard et al., 2002), which may be especially prominent within evaluative contexts (e.g., graduate school) in which criticism and failure is possible (Chae et al., 1995). In addition to neuroticism, personality traits characterized by exceptionally high-performance standards and/or concerns (i.e., perfectionism) have been recurrently implicated as predictors of impostor syndrome (Cokley et al., 2018). Altogether, perfectionism can be viewed as a double-edged sword for psychology graduate students that may inadvertently lead high-achieving students to experience impostor syndrome.

To further illustrate how individual factors may contribute to impostor syndrome, let’s revisit the vignette of Serena. Serena considers herself to be particularly attuned to how others may view her, and also considers herself to be a bit neurotic at times. By going above and beyond in her studies to perfect her academic and research projects, Serena has developed an impressive CV that has also come with the admiration of her peers. However, Serena is also aware that the excessive amount of time and energy invested into each of these projects may have been in excess to the actual project requirements. As such, Serena finds that these high self-imposed standards have made her develop the habit of comparing herself to others, focusing on her perceived inadequacies more than strengths, and internalizing and overgeneralizing instances where high standards are unable to be met (e.g., equating not earning the highest grade in the class to failing as a graduate student).

6.2 Contextual-Level Factors

At the contextual level, the challenges and demands of graduate school can generate feelings of alienation that may further amplify risk for impostor cognitions (Peteet et al., 2015a). For some, the internalized belief of intellectual incompetence may stem from being the first in their family to attend college or to pursue an advanced degree, which has been shown to intensify impostor syndrome within competitive academic environments (Canning et al., 2020; Craddock et al., 2011). Scholars suggest that the unique challenges reported by first-generation college students (e.g., parental unfamiliarity with college, familial pressures to excel, lack of financial resources, competing personal and academic obligations, limited mentorship; Pascarella et al., 2004) are also relevant among first-generation graduate school students (Cunningham & Brown, 2014). Thus, first-generation students may feel less prepared and equipped to excel in psychology graduate school programs with few mentors or opportunities to dispel these beliefs, especially when compared to non-first-generation peers who may have a greater array of financial, professional, and academic resources at their disposal. To be sure, this does not mean that individuals who are not the first in their families to attend graduate school do not experience similar stressors; however, first-generation students may be more at risk to report such challenges, and in turn may also be at an increased risk for impostor cognitions.

Apart from first-generation status, an extensive body of literature has also documented the intersection of impostor syndrome with unique cultural issues associated with one’s race and ethnicity. More specifically, research indicates that undergraduate and graduate students of color are at a heightened risk for impostor syndrome, in large part, due to the salience and impact of stressors associated with one’s racial minority status (e.g., racial discrimination, negative stereotypes), which may compound stress related to general academic demands (Cokley et al., 2013; Peteet et al., 2015a). It has been argued that experiences of race-based mistreatment among students of color can be perceived as confirmatory evidence of one’s already internalized sense of intellectual incompetence (Bernard et al., 2017), thereby increasing fears of negative evaluation from peers and professors. Interestingly, qualitative studies have also found that when students of color discuss factors that may shape impostor cognitions, the awareness of underrepresentation within the academy is frequently referenced (Craddock et al., 2011; Stone et al., 2018). Thus, it is perhaps not surprising that recent research has found students of color to report higher rates of impostor syndrome within academic contexts that are less diverse (i.e., predominantly White institutions), relative to those who attend predominately non-White institutions (i.e., historically Black colleges/universities; Bernard et al., 2020). With students of color being considerably under-represented within psychology programs and in the field of psychology as whole, it follows that some have made the case that graduate students of color may be particularly susceptible and vulnerable to the noxious effects of impostor syndrome (Bernard et al., 2018; Cokley et al., 2017; Peteet et al., 2015b).

As an applied example of the impact of contextual factors on impostor syndrome, let’s revisit the above vignette of Robert, who is completing his dissertation. During his entire five-year graduate tenure, he noticed that he was the only African American person (student or professor) in the graduate program. This racial under-representation (i.e., a contextual feature of the academic environment) may engender impostor cognitions and cause Robert to question his belongingness in the academic space (“No one else in the graduate program looks like me. Maybe I don’t belong here?”); thoughts that are akin to embedded themes in impostor cognitions (i.e., questioning one’s intellectual competence and belongingness). In addition, Robert may have had to also contend with discriminatory treatment and negative stereotypes that suggest African Americans are anti-intellectual or only gained entry into academic programs because of affirmative action initiatives, both of which can worsen the impostor syndrome over time (Cokley, 2015; Ogunyemi et al., 2020).

7. Navigating Impostor Syndrome

If you find yourself resonating with the content of this chapter, you may be thinking “That’s great, but what do we do if we have impostor cognitions? How do we treat it?” With respect to these questions, there is good news and there is okay news. The good news is that conversations about impostor syndrome have ballooned in recent years, with some discussions taking center stage at national conferences (Jaremka et al., 2020), making it easier to share experiences and find others who are going through the same thing. The okay news is that only a handful of research has investigated interventions for impostor syndrome. Although limited, this extant research provides valuable insights as to strategies or approaches that can systematically address impostor syndrome.

So, what can be done to alleviate the effects of impostor syndrome? First, if impostor syndrome is disrupting your day-to-day functioning in key areas (school, work, relationships, sleep) then you should consider seeking help from a mental health professional. One great source for help are the university counseling centers, which often support students who experience academic stress, which often includes impostor syndrome. Although impostor syndrome is not formally listed in the American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), mental health practitioners are typically aware of impostor syndrome and its associations with anxiety and depression. Indeed, several studies have discussed the utility of cognitive-behavioral interventions that are frequently used by mental health professionals (e.g., cognitive-behavioral therapy) to manage anxious and depressive symptoms, such as uncontrollable worry or decreased motivation, and target distorted or maladaptive cognitions that are related to impostor syndrome (Bernard et al., 2017, 2018). In addition, mental health professionals may know of other resources for managing impostor feelings, such as counseling support groups for graduate students.

Beyond seeking help from a mental health professional, two scientific studies offer more insight as to how to overcome impostor feelings. In the first study, Zanchetta and colleagues (2020) sought to assess how well a coaching intervention reduced impostor feelings. The researchers randomly assigned participants to a coaching intervention (treatment) or training intervention (control). Topics in each group included, but were not limited to, creating measurable goals, taking inventory of their abilities, and then completing an activity that helped participants internalize their identified abilities. Although the coaching and training interventions involved nearly identical activities, participants in the coaching intervention received one-on-one coaching to process the activities, whereas individuals in the training condition processed the activities in a small-group format. In all, the coaching intervention was more effective in reducing levels of impostorism. However, what’s really important to note is that each intervention involved learning about and discussing the fear of negative evaluations and the value of not hiding mistakes from others. This is particularly noteworthy given the key role that fears of negative evaluations play in manifestations of impostor syndrome (Clance, 1985; Clance & Imes, 1978). Moreover, the researchers found that acknowledging and discussing fears of evaluation, via the coaching intervention, was the only statistically significant component of the intervention that reduced impostor thoughts and feelings. Thus, above all else, talking about your impostor-related thoughts and feelings to others (e.g., peers, mentors) may be among the more effective ways to reduce the salience of impostor syndrome.

In the second study, researcher Jonathan Cisco (2020) tested the effectiveness of an academic skills training intervention that was specifically designed to reduce impostor feelings in graduate students. This group format intervention aimed to increase students’ comfort with reading and synthesizing academic articles, a common task for graduate students. Four 90-minute interventions were used to (1) introduce and discuss impostor syndrome experiences; (2) normalize the commonness of cultivating scientific literary skills while in graduate school, as opposed to developing those skills prior to graduate school; (3) develop and practice skills for reading academic journals; and (4) develop and practice skills for writing literature reviews. Altogether, the study provided evidence that the academic skills training intervention significantly reduced levels of impostor syndrome for graduate students in the treatment groups relative to students in the control group, and the intervention decreased impostor cognitions across the duration of the intervention (pre-test and post-test levels). Thus, taking steps to discuss and normalize that novel skill acquisition continues well into graduate school may be useful in reducing social comparisons, which may in turn reduce internal perfectionistic pressures that underlie impostor cognitions.

Altogether, the above discussion and available empirical evidence for reducing impostor cognitions can be summarized into four takeaways that may help with managing impostor syndrome. The four takeaways are as follows:

1. 1. Seek professional help if you experience distress that impacts your functioning.

2. 2. Actively resist the temptation to hide your perceived flaws and mistakes.

3. 3. Possibly alone or with a professional, use deep reflection to examine fear of being negatively evaluated.

4. 4. Recognize that skills needed in graduate school are often developed during graduate school (not prior to), and that those skills can improve through support and training.

Beyond the existing empirical evidence, there may be additional strategies one can employ to help prevent or mitigate impostor cognitions and the related stress, anxiety, and depressive symptoms. To this end, five research-informed strategies are presented next. First, it is important to be able to identify if and when you are experiencing the impostor syndrome. Paying close attention to the vignettes presented in this chapter, reading about other’s experiences of impostor syndrome in books or pop culture writings, or accessing educational resources (e.g., TED Talks, empirical papers, conference workshops) may increase your ability to recognize common signs and situations that are related to the impostor syndrome. These strategies may be useful in helping individuals to identify and label internal thoughts of impostorism that may have otherwise gone unnoticed (e.g., “My research paper probably only received high marks because Dr. Mulki is such a nice person”).

Second, individuals who experience impostor syndrome may feel a need to hide “deficient” or imperfect parts of themselves from others, which aligns with empirical evidence that suggests shame and the impostor syndrome are positively correlated (Cowman & Ferrari, 2002). However, hiding one’s suffering and distress may cause an individual to become more isolated and disconnected from crucial social supports that can normalize the impostor experiences and offer positive support. In fact, research suggests that social support is negatively related to impostor syndrome (Bravata et al., 2019). Therefore, it may be especially important to remain connected to social supports during distressful impostor syndrome experiences. As detailed above, sharing impostor experiences with others can be therapeutic and may actually help to normalize (and even challenge) distorted self-perceptions and beliefs regarding one’s own intellectual ability.

With recent research alluding to the fact that impostor syndrome may diminish in intensity as individuals become more acclimated and experienced with a particular context or task (Rudenga & Gravett, 2019), a third strategy is to adopt a growth mindset to manage impostor cognitions. Put forth by psychologist Carol Dweck and colleagues, a growth mindset suggests an individual’s abilities can grow over time, versus remaining fixed and unchangeable (Dweck & Yeager, 2019; Yeager & Dweck, 2012). In other words, your skills and abilities as psychology graduate students, such as scientific writing or analyzing statistical data, are not fixed but instead can be improved over time. In fact, Zanchetta and colleagues’ (2020) above impostor syndrome empirical intervention uses Dweck’s mindset framework to conceptualize how a growth mindset could prevent or reduce the impact of impostor cognitions. Specifically, the authors suggest that a fixed mindset can cause individuals to be fearful and avoid constructive feedback that is important for their professional development. Conversely, embracing a growth mindset allows one to recognize that their skills and abilities are malleable, which can be furthered by feedback.

The fourth strategy targets the context of impostor syndrome. As mentioned previously, impostor syndrome does not happen in a vacuum. It is not fully explained by a lone individual characteristic, but instead is likely influenced or exacerbated by the surrounding context. Given that recent research points to a mental health crisis among graduate students, especially for marginalized students (Evans et al., 2018), graduate programs and faculty mentors should continue to create healthier graduate environments. For instance, a systemic approach to preventing or alleviating impostor syndrome distress may be to craft policies that promote self-care and school–life balance. Graduate student associations and committees can also advocate for and put forward possible systemic solutions. At the least, these efforts could require academic programs and graduate schools to widely acknowledge and validate the existence of impostor syndrome in graduate school. Ideally, acknowledgment of this type could give individual graduate students permission to acknowledge their own distress and resultantly seek support.

8. Conclusion

As you prepare or continue to embark on your graduate journey, we hope that this discussion has provided some insight into impostor syndrome, which represents a common experience that will more than likely rear its head on more than one occasion! Despite what this internal dialogue of being an impostor may lead you to believe, questioning your own competence does not reflect an internal fatal flaw, but rather a normative experience that is particularly prevalent within graduate school. Accordingly, it is important to remember that you do belong in graduate school, you are competent, and that many skills are expected to be developed during graduate school, and not prior. As such, we hope this discussion about impostor syndrome adds structure to your current or upcoming graduate school experience and equips you with the knowledge and resources that will help you recognize and challenge thoughts and feelings that question the validity of your own intellectual ability.

Acknowledgments

The preparation of this chapter was partially supported by the National Institute on Mental Health (NIMH) Grant T32MH018869 (MPI CK Danielson, D Kilpatrick) and the National Institute of Minority Health and Health Disparities (K23MD016168-01; PI: Donte L. Bernard). All views and opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect those of the funding agencies or respective institutions. The authors have no conflicts of interest to disclose.

6 Cultural Humility in Psychology

Maysa Akbar

In a day and age when racism, xenophobia, and bigotry are at an all-time high, cultural competency, cultural humility, and multicultural growth are of the utmost importance in our field. As a psychologist, it is inevitable that you will work with people who are different from you – not just in race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, or ability status, but in ideology, values, and beliefs. The world we live in is ever evolving, changing, and advancing, as is our understanding of individual differences and intersectional identities. As a professional you must know how to be responsive to those that you work with, be aware of what may be offensive, and be conscious of your own biases as they may manifest. As a graduate student, you have an outstanding opportunity to grow in your understanding and application of multiculturalism and cross-cultural psychology. But be aware that to engage in this process, and to do so successfully, there likely will be moments when you feel uncomfortable, you confront biases or stereotypes you did not realize you had, and you discover “blind spots” revealing your ignorance on topics or issues well outside of your own lived experience. That’s okay. These moments of discomfort, shame, or even embarrassment can be where growth most occurs. So, come prepared with an open mind and an eagerness to learn. Challenge yourself to embrace cultural competency and implement new skills that will enhance your ability to promote equity, diversity, and inclusion. It is not only a great way to ensure that your work as a psychological scientist, teacher, or practitioner is best able to benefit all people in society; it is a social responsibility and an ethical duty to treat all people with respect. This chapter includes a brief description of key terms used to discuss your own personal journey related to cultural humility and offers advice for how you can make necessary strides in your graduate school experience.

1. Cultural Competency

As a graduate student, you may receive training in “diversity” that will provide you with greater awareness, new knowledge, and develop skills that are a core part of your professional and personal development. All psychologists interact with people: as students, mentees, research participants, or as patients. Thus, deepening your learning toward cultural competence is essential for all graduate students in order to succeed in your career, and to ensure the broadest impact of your work as a psychologist in the world around you. Cultural competence has been defined as the ability to understand and interact with people from cultures or belief systems different from one’s own (DeAngelis, 2015). This theory has been a key aspect of psychological practice and scholarship for many years; however, implementation of this concept to create equitable and inclusive places has trailed behind. Many psychologists that are involved in social justice work view cultural competence as an important element in combating systemic racism and socioeconomic disparities in health and mental health care. It is the understanding that different cultural beliefs positively impact the quality of care and interventions used in treatment.

Within health service psychology (i.e., clinical, counseling, and school psychology sub-disciplines), training in cultural competence has become an integral part of graduate curricula. Recently, the American Psychological Association (APA) made it a requirement for accredited programs in these areas to specify and implement a plan for integrating diversity into both didactic and experiential training. These requirements are not mandated to graduate training in other areas of psychology; however, more work is needed to ensure that all psychology students receive this type of instruction during graduate school.

The majority of the cultural competence training emphasizes learning the patterns of thoughts and belief systems in other cultures, thereby reminding you to constantly reflect on your own thoughts and actions, and work on adapting theories, concepts, and interventions to meet the expectations of other cultures (Chui & Hung, 2005). In the health service psychology areas, research thus far has shown that 85 percent of graduate students report their graduate school provided multiple courses in diversity and 83 percent report supervised clinical experience with diverse populations. This is a drastic improvement from past decades where graduate students felt ill-equipped in their knowledge of cultural competency.

2. Multiculturalism

Another concept to be aware of is multiculturalism. Multiculturalism promotes the value of diversity as a core principle and insists that all cultural groups should be treated with respect and as equals (Fowers & Richardson, 1996). It highlights humanity, tolerance, human rights, and authenticity. A huge part of multiculturalism is observed in culture and pays particular attention to honoring differences and amplifying diversity. Central to multiculturalism is the promotion of cultural equity within psychology.

Multiculturalism deserves special attention within our field. Reports suggest that only 5 percent of psychologists in the APA identify as Asian and Hispanic, 4 percent identify as Black/African American, and 1 percent identify as biracial/multiracial (Freeman, 2019). In addition to low representation, for many decades there has been a lack of urgency for a multiculturalist perspective in psychology (see “Even the Rat Was White” by Robert Guthrie, 2004). However, this has begun to change. Active learning about multiculturalism is required for healthy and helpful interactions with diverse populations, facilitating broader impacts in research, teaching, and practice. Adopting the principles of multiculturalism also promotes a stable, cohesive environment for both you and the population you’re working with. Imagine how belongingness is enhanced when someone understands your cultural values and does not find them offensive, odd, or unacceptable.

3. Cultural Humility and Multicultural Growth

Although the terms “cultural competence” and “multiculturalism” have been used frequently within psychology, a more recent construct preferred in discussions regarding diversity is “cultural humility.” Cultural humility reflects the process of gaining cultural competence and multicultural awareness, knowledge, and skills, but also reflects a recognition that one is forever striving to learn, to address areas of ignorance, and to be consistently open about what one doesn’t know. Cultural humility also reflects the fact that due to countless possible forms of intersectionality (i.e., possessing many different identities simultaneously), it is always necessary to value lived experiences and differences more than to assume a comprehensive understanding of others’ experience. A focus on cultural humility will teach you to embrace the process of reflection and make it a priority during your years of studying and work in psychology. Cultural humility also can be conceptualized as the development and implementation of diversity competence as a psychologist. It is the awareness of the impact of one’s culture and diverse experiences that shapes an individual’s experiences and perspectives. This includes the impact of power, privilege, and oppression (Fisher-Borne et al., 2015) and can be developed when scientists, teachers, and practitioners understand their own culture, privilege, and bias. These dynamics can impact one’s interactions with others (Fisher-Borne et al., 2015). Because we each have a lived experience, we see the world around us based on that worldview.

In certain instances, when biases are created, whether implicit or explicit, it can affect the way we encode, interpret, and respond to stimuli around us. Biases are the attitudes or stereotypes that affect people’s understanding, actions, and decisions. This includes both negative and positive perspectives and thoughts that occur at times without full awareness. Biases can limit the capacity to relate to another person. At times biases also lead to marginalizing or diminishing another person’s experience. Unchecked biases limit our tolerance and acceptance of differences. So while it may initially feel uncomfortable to explore your biases, judgments, and perspectives, it’s critical to the process of gaining cultural humility.

The process of cultural humility teaches us to recognize these biases, reflect upon them, and recognize that we must understand one another’s “truth” without imposing our own biases to undermine, or rewrite, that truth. Indeed, it is in the acknowledgment of one’s own cultural biases, stereotypes, and prejudices where the true work of gaining cultural humility begins.

For some, the process of developing cultural competency, the awareness, knowledge, and skills of multiculturalism, and introspective experience reflecting cultural humility began long before graduate school. For others, the journey is just beginning. Either way, graduate school training should include a goal to make great strides in these areas. Because diversity is ever changing and evolving, so must be your understanding. Research from the US Department of Health and Human Services indicates that progress in these domains improves relationships between people from diverse identities and backgrounds (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, 2014). Research also suggests that many foreign countries do not see Americans as harnessing cultural sensitivity and acceptance (Murray-García & Tervalon, 2014), suggesting that there is room for continuous improvement in relationships with people from other cultures characterized by respect, consideration, and open-mindedness.

As you begin your graduate school journey, ask yourself:

1. 1. How were you raised to treat someone of a different race?

2. 2. What comes to mind when you meet someone of a different background than you?

3. 3. What are your identities with regard to each area of diversity (gender identity, gender expression, race, ethnicity, religion, sexual attraction, sexual behavior, sexual identity, social class/socioeconomic status, physical ability, geographic upbringing, neurodiversity) and how might your identities allow you to experience the world differently than someone with different identities?

4. 4. What limitations do you have in understanding others given your own unique experiences?

4. Graduate School is a Growth Opportunity

You will develop a greater appreciation for cultural humility in graduate school, and increase your own cultural competence and multicultural awareness, knowledge, and skills as well. But it’s not easy. A few tips are below. Overall, remember that cultural humility is a process, not a destination. During your time in graduate school, take every opportunity to grow in multiculturalism. Be mindful of the attitude and perspective that you have during this time. Be open and accepting of biases that you will discover in the books and theories that you will learn. Explore the inequities inherent in psychology and question why they persist. Challenge the status quo. Are you ready to look inward?

1. 1. Developing cultural humility requires introspection. You will be surprised to learn how much your own ideas, assumptions, and automatic beliefs about what seems true may not be true for everyone. In other words, you will begin to recognize the important role of lived experience in shaping our perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors and creating multiple truths. It is important to recognize that these are all equally valid and important perspectives that can coexist. Thus, what may seem “obvious” or “peculiar” or “confusing” to you may be remarkably ambiguous, profound, or certain to someone else. Your job when discovering these moments of unique points of view is not to determine who is “correct,” but rather to realize that all perspectives are valid, informative, and allow for greater dialogue to occur. In short, your job is to listen and to better understand what you don’t know, and could not have known before.

2. 2. Cultural humility is relevant for everyone, even those who have been historically marginalized. Of course, the process required to develop cultural humility is relevant not only for those with limited experience interacting with others from historically marginalized backgrounds, but also for those who themselves represent diverse identities. This work is relevant to everyone, which means first that all individuals have areas of cultural competence to develop, and second, approaching others who may appear to represent a historically marginalized identity under the assumption that they possess advanced expertise places an unfair burden on people who are engaged in advancing diversity work. Rather, it is essential for everyone to respect that we are all working toward cultural humility and simultaneously experiencing challenges and epiphanies.

3. 3. Determine when you may be most open-minded towards growth. People are most likely to grow when they are not under stress or feeling overwhelmed. So it may be important to recognize your natural tendencies to be defensive or dismissive when challenged. Your attitude can either become a roadblock and hindrance to your growth or it can thrust you into a new level of understanding. Avoiding, ignoring, and blocking out are common forms of resistance, especially if it is different from your worldview. There will be moments where difficult conversations with peers or mentors may be needed, and it is understandable if fears and anxieties arise. Use those moments to further develop ways that you can commit to learning skills that will allow the needs of historically marginalized and minoritized populations to be addressed meaningfully. Take this work with you outside the classroom. Of course, your commitment to cultural competence, multiculturalism, and cultural humility can extend well beyond the classroom or your graduate curriculum. You can think critically about your research and teaching activities. Follow thought leaders on social media who represent novel viewpoints, and attend lectures that allow you to hear about diverse perspectives. There are dozens of fantastic books and podcasts that allow people to move through the journey of cultural humility, and you can establish safe forums for discussion and growth among peers at your department or university.

4. 4. Enlist the support of a mentor. Finding a mentor is also key. The most effective mentors provide discussions and processing time to further help foster the development of cultural intelligence (Murray-Garcia et al., 2014). Mentors can also help benchmark your personal growth, and give you an objective perspective on your progress. Mentors will also help you with perseverance when you are struggling due to inevitable stumbles.

5. 5. Apply your work, everywhere. Outside of your own personal experience and the acquired knowledge you will attain from graduate school, pay attention to the systems that exist within society that further complicate or inhibit diversity and/or inclusion due to systemic racism. Challenging yourself will help you to overcome emotional hurdles, hindrances, and roadblocks that may come later during your work as a psychologist. During this time of learning and understanding, make time for self-reflection. Try to evaluate the impact of your personal power, privilege, or marginalization. Try to go outside of your social circle to expand the diversity of your peer group.

6. 6. Elicit peer support. Psychology graduate school is often regarded as a marathon, not a sprint, and it is important that you establish strong support systems to help you succeed. Creating a positive village that is inclusive of relationships with your peers and cohort is essential. Having others keep you accountable, sharing ideas and resources, enhances your development and training. For people who themselves represent historically marginalized identities, the village may include people who can help provide support when you are burdened and feeling pressured to represent not only your own emerging identity, but also the reputation of the group you may represent. In addition, as a diverse graduate student, you may feel compelled to respond to questions, provide explanations, or confront incorrect assumptions that can lead to exhaustion and frustration; moreover, the pressure to avoid reifying negative stereotypes while doing so is extraordinarily challenging. Peer support will be essential to allow you the space to be yourself and cope with these remarkable challenges.

7. 7. Take action. As you embark on your journey toward cultural humility and recognize the systemic inequities that have existed, and have been passively maintained for centuries in some cases, you may become angry, frustrated, and feel helpless. Turn that into meaningful, tangible, impactful action. These feelings are a good sign that you are becoming an ally, and your allyship is most valuable when you elevate the words of others, use your power to create change, and push for action where others may be less able, perhaps because their power has been taken away through systems that they were born into. As future psychologists you have the capability to be strong and influential agents of change. You can proactively call out systems of racism, power imbalances, and social injustice. As an exemplar of cultural humility, you can create and advocate for psychological science that will reduce structural forces and institutional inequalities (Fisher-Borne et al., 2015). Your very actions, ideas, research, and guidance regarding equitable and inclusive practices can challenge and begin to build a better world for us all (Fisher-Borne et al., 2015).

So what have you learned thus far? Cultural competence, multiculturalism, and cultural humility are more than just terms you will likely learn during your time in graduate school. They are action words that require you to rethink psychology, and perhaps your own life today. As future and current psychologists, the possibility for real change is limitless. Make a conscious decision to intentionally address issues of diversity and inclusion, from the start of your graduate school journey. Explore diversity training within your doctoral psychology program and during your studies. Create platforms for new cultural experiences so that you can be exposed to people with alternative values, beliefs, and ideologies. By approaching psychology with cultural humility you advance multicultural growth, cultural competency, and real change.

7 Graduate Training for Students of Color: Belonging Required; Fitting In, Not Recommended

Keyona Allen , Amanda Parks , & Shawn C.T. Jones

Graduate training in psychology is both an exciting and a challenging time for all students. However, there are both historical and contemporary elements that can make training in graduate programs in psychology particularly unique for students of color. The purpose of this chapter is to provide an overview of the realities but also the possibilities for graduate trainees of color in psychology. This chapter defines students/trainees of color using the US Bureau of the Census definition of color: African/American/Black, American Indian, Alaskan Native, Asian-American/Pacific Islander and Hispanic/Latino(a)/x. We also utilize the term Black Indigenous and People of Color (BIPOC) when referring to these trainees of color.

Who Are We?

Positionality concerns the description of one’s social location, privilege, and areas of marginalization. We feel that it is imperative to outline who the writers of this chapter are, as it informs why we decided to agree to pen this critical chapter. Notably, we are three current and former graduate trainees of color. We have all been trained at a bevy of Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs), which we note have provided both immense challenge and opportunity for us as Black psychologists. One of us (S. Jones) also now has the distinct privilege of training graduate students, both White and BIPOC, which has provided a full circle experience.

Who is the Intended Audience of This Chapter?

If there were only one demographic that were to read this chapter, it is our hope that BIPOC graduate trainees will find the contents herein useful. From that perspective, this chapter could be viewed as a FUBU (For Us By Us) offering, an homage to the 1990s Black-owned clothing line, or Solange’s (2016) R&B track of the same name from her award-winning album A Seat at the Table. However, we also believe that the experiences highlighted in this chapter and navigated by many BIPOC graduate trainees may serve as fruitful multicultural understanding for non-BIPOC graduate students in psychology who count themselves as allies or accomplices of BIPOC trainees of color. According to Ayvazian (1995), allyship is “intentional, overt, consistent activity that challenges prevailing patterns of oppression, makes privileges that are so often invisible visible, and facilitates the empowerment of persons targeted by oppression” (p. 6). Being an accomplice (or co-conspirator) has been described as a developmental step forward in allyship, one that has been described as connoting more risk-taking on the part of the accomplice (Suyemoto et al., 2021). Simply put, we would implore White graduate trainees to not shy away from this content, as it could aid you in having some context for understanding and supporting your fellow cohort-, class-, or lab-mate.¹ Whether accomplice, ally, or BIPOC trainee, it is our hope that this chapter will be edifying.

Chapter Outline

In the sections that follow, we take up three principal aims. The first aim is “explaining the terrain.” In the immediate following section, we will provide a coarse overview of the most recent data on the representation and experiences of graduate trainees of color in psychology programs, with an emphasis on U.S.-based data. The second part of this section centers on briefly defining key challenges that have been identified as impacting the quality of life of graduate trainees of color. In addition to presenting these definitions, we also, where possible, provide examples of the manifestation of these challenges. Our second aim is devoted to “equipping the toolkit.” In this section, we focus on navigating the terrain of graduate school using culturally relevant relationally centered strategies, as a means of making sense of and maximizing one’s time in graduate school. We see our third aim as “embracing the thriving.” In this section, we consider how to embrace “small wins,” eschew feelings of impostor, and proverbially live your “best life” while in graduate training.

1. Explaining the Terrain

We see the sun. We feel the warmth. We see so much sand and we imagine the ocean. This painful wretched truth can wake us up to recognize that the warmth and sand surrounding our “semi-peaceful” existence does not mean that we are relaxing at the beach, but that we are parched and dehydrated horizontal and face-down in the desert.

Dr. Howard Stevenson

We chose to begin this section with this quote from Black psychologist Howard Stevenson (Stevenson & Jones, 2015). Stevenson’s words were initially applied to the realities of parents of Black children in predominately White schools, but we find them equally apt here. You have applied to, interviewed at, and been accepted to the program of your dreams. You excitedly find a place to live in your new city and show up to your graduate student orientation full of excitement and promise. We remember this excitement. Moreover, unfortunately, we each remember a moment when the place to which we had arrived began to look and feel a bit different than we had imagined. While this moment looked different for each of us, and will also look different for you, it is nevertheless important to “explain the terrain”: some of the potential realities for BIPOC trainees. Notably, many of these realities are not specific to graduate training in psychology per se, although they are nonetheless relevant. In the subsections that follow we outline the numerical (by the numbers) and narrative (beyond the numbers) experiences of graduate trainees of color in psychology programs.

1.1 Behind the Numbers: Graduate Trainees’ Representation in Psychology Programs

The numerical representation of BIPOC students in graduate training in psychology in the United States is a tale of “low and grow.” This is perhaps not surprising, as it mirrors the field at each stage of the pipeline. For example, the most recent American Community Survey reported that about 84 percent of the active psychology workforce was White, an over-representation given that only 76 percent of the nation is White (APA Center for Workforce Studies, 2018). The American Psychological Association’s (APA) Center for Workforce Studies (CWS) also provides annual information on graduate degrees awarded in the field by race/ethnicity. According to these data, across the 2010s (2010–2019), 72 percent of doctoral degrees were awarded to White trainees, meaning 27 percent of doctoral degrees were awarded to groups defined as trainees of color (American Indian/Alaska Native, Asian, Black/African American, Hispanic/Latinx, Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander, Bi- and multiracial; www.apa.org/workforce). Notably, the most recent available data (2019) suggest a slight improvement, with only 66 percent of degrees being awarded to White trainees. These racial/ethnic data are similar at the master’s level, with 66 percent of degrees awarded to White students from 2010 to 2019 (61 percent in 2019). While it is clear that the number of BIPOC trainees getting doctorates has been low, the data also suggest growth in representation for these groups collectively, as well as for most at the subgroup level. Overall, BIPOC trainees’ awarded doctoral degrees increased by 64 percent over this time frame. Moreover, with the exception of American Indian/Alaska Native trainees, a group that has frequently vacillated year over year, each racial/ethnic minoritized group saw at least a 20 percent increase in degree obtainment.

Continuing down the pipeline, it is important to understand the data for current graduate trainees of color. According to the most recent demographics from the APA’s Graduate Study in Psychology, 63 percent of doctoral and 59 percent of master’s students were White (per academic year 2019). Based on these data, there is a slightly higher number of BIPOC trainees in programs than those who ultimately receive degrees. However, much like the degree data, recent trends suggest that the representation of most racial/ethnic subgroups is growing: Compared to 2014–2015 data, there appear to be increases for every BIPOC trainee group. A final important quantitative marker, particularly as we consider the qualitative, lived experience of BIPOC trainees, concerns attrition. Although these data are not as robustly kept as those on degree earning and enrollment, a December 2017 report on diversity in health service psychology doctoral programs (i.e., clinical, counseling, school) indicated an attrition rate for BIPOC students of 3 percent in 2015 (noted as a decrease of 2 percent from 2012 data; Page et al., 2017). The White student attrition was noted to hold steady at 2 percent across these time points (Page et al., 2017). In addition to these numerical data, a 2012 study by Proctor and Truscott specifically assessed the attrition experiences of seven Black school psychology trainees. Of note, these students identified a number of contributing factors, including those ideological in nature (e.g., misalignment with career goals), but also, importantly those that were relational (e.g., relatedness with peers and faculty). Notably, with regard to the latter, racial aspects of connection with faculty and peers emerged from the data. These experiences, and others, are elevated in our next section.

1.2 Beyond the Numbers: Qualitative Experiences of Graduate Trainees of Color

One of the racialized elements that trainees in the Proctor and Truscott (2012) study alluded to concerns a result of the aforementioned data we presented: the issue of being a numerical minority. Indeed, while the growth of BIPOC trainees in psychology programs is notable, these data are at the national level. In any given program, BIPOC students as a collective may represent a small number of students, with the representation of any one racial/ethnic group even smaller. To illustrate this, the most recent available data from the Graduate Study in Psychology database (academia year 2019) suggested that the median number of Asian graduate students was two, with the median number of Black and Latinx graduate trainees at one, and all other groups too infrequent to provide meaningful measures of central tendency. Feeling like “one of the only” in a given program may lead you as a BIPOC student to wonder if tokenism is at play. Tokenism has been defined as psychological experience among persons from demographic groups that are rare within a setting, in this case, graduate school (Niemann, 2003). Of importance for the experience of graduate school for BIPOC trainees, a tokenism experience may leave one: feeling a sense of isolation and loneliness; feeling overly visible or distinctive; feeling like the “poster child” (representativeness) or trapped to engage in a limited manner (role encapsulation); exposed to stereotypes and racism; and being uncertain how to maneuver to interpret certain interpersonal interactions (attributional ambiguity) (Niemann, 2003, 2011, 2016). Moreover, these experiences may lead BIPOC trainees to contribute disproportionately to any diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts in their program, department, or even university. Although a more extensive discussion of the effects of tokenism is beyond the purpose of this chapter, we recommend the work of Yolanda Flores Niemann to unpack these experiences.

Underlying a number of the tokenized experiences noted above are the realities of racism and microaggressions that, unfortunately, are present in the institutional and interpersonal dynamics of some graduate departments and/or programs. Briefly, racism is defined as a system propped up by the belief in the superiority of one’s race combined with the power to act out that believed superiority, either at the individual, institutional, or cultural level (Jones, 1997). Microaggressions are defined as covert (or at least not overt) insults, assaults, and slights experienced by BIPOC individuals (Sue et al., 2007). Lest we respond too defensively within our field about the presence of these systems, structures, and in-vivo and vicarious experiences, it is worth noting the first guideline related to the APA’s most recent Guidelines for Race and Ethnicity notes: Psychologists strive to recognize and engage the influence of race and ethnicity in all aspects of professional activities as an ongoing process (APA, 2019, p. 10). Moreover, the APA’s Graduate Student Guide for Ethnic Minority Graduate Students (www.apa.org/apags/resources/ethnic-minority-guide.pdf) devotes an entire section to these two topics, replete with real-life examples. BIPOC trainees have indicated that these racist experiences can emerge in research, clinical, and teaching aspects of their graduate school experience (e.g., Jernigan et al., 2010).

Although not unique to BIPOC trainees, a third phenomenon that may impact the graduate training experience is feelings of Imposterism. Initially conceptualized for White women in corporate America (Clance & Imes, 1978), Impostor Phenomenon has been defined as an internalization of unhelpful thoughts related to one’s intellectual competence and has been outlined as perhaps a particularly relevant experience for BIPOC emerging adults (e.g., Cokley et al., 2013). Of note, Cokley and colleagues (2013) have highlighted that such cognitions may be present among BIPOC individuals as they move through many of the aforementioned experiences in the academic environment, including racial discrimination and several of the sequelae associated with tokenism (e.g., isolation, marginalization, stereotyped exchanges). It manifests as feelings of being “out of place” or seeing our achievements as due to “luck” rather than ability. Germane to this chapter’s title, it is feeling that one neither belongs nor fits in. Our dear colleague Dr. Donte Bernard has an entire chapter in this volume devoted to this topic, which we see as required reading for understanding the psychological outcomes of feelings of impostorism more fully.

In a recent investigation, Bernard, Jones, and Volpe (2020) elucidated that one way in which BIPOC trainees may attempt to cope with feelings of Impostorism is through the use of high-effort coping strategies such as John Henryism Active Coping (JHAC). Named after the Black American folk hero and “steel driving man” who famously bested a drilling machine in building a railroad only to die of exhaustion, JHAC has been defined as “efficacious mental and physical vigor; a strong commitment to hard work; and a single-minded determination to succeed” (Bennett et al., 2004, p. 371). Breaking down this definition in lay terms, we would define John Henryism as “going above and beyond” or “doing the most” as a means of navigating a difficult environment that does not seem inviting. Interestingly, the research on JHAC has been mixed: in the short term, some research has suggested that this type of coping can be effective; however, other research has suggested that over time JHAC contributes to negative physical health outcomes and potentially worsened psychological well-being (Bronder et al., 2014; Volpe et al., 2020). From our perspective, this high-effort coping is harmful over time; another contributor to what is an added burden that can befall many BIPOC trainees. This burden has been referred to as an “emotional tax”: experiences that threaten the health, well-being, and thriving of these trainees (Travis et al., 2016). This tax, we would argue, can make graduate training in psychology an “expensive” proposition, and one that may leave BIPOC trainees counting the costs and benefits.

2. Equipping the (Relational) Toolkit

The combination of the factors we have discussed (i.e., tokenism, racism, microaggressions, impostor syndrome) have the potential to individually and synergistically leave BIPOC trainees feeling a long way from the proverbial day at the beach. At times, in fact, these stressors may resemble the desert experience we highlighted in the previous section, with even occasional wins feeling like a mirage. That said, we find it critical to note that graduate school does not inherently have to be an arid journey. In fact, even if some graduate programs may be more desert than beach for BIPOC trainees, we believe in the ability to find the oasis: a fertile, lush, hydrating place, even in the midst of the desert. In this section, our goal is to identify tangible tools that you can use to navigate the terrain of graduate school, creating a veritable culturally informed relational toolkit. In particular, we focus on the importance of relationships, which we feel is generally congruent with the communalistic cultural orientation of many BIPOC trainees.

2.1 Relationship Building 101: How Can I Get Myself Through Graduate School?

As BIPOC graduate students and early career faculty, we have learned firsthand that relationship building and maintenance is the key to our success and happiness in graduate school. We realize that there are many ways to approach relationships in graduate school, and we include a few that have worked for us along our journeys to the PhD.

First, determine your non-negotiables. Dr. Hailey tweeted, “Passing along some good advice: When entering grad school, a friend told me to write down the non-negotiable things that sustained my well-being and joy. She said no matter how difficult and hard things get, never negotiate on your list. That list kept me going all six years” (Hailey, 2021). Importantly, she added that this list can be crafted at any point in your journey as a psychologist (i.e., applying to graduate school, during graduate school, post-doctoral fellowship, or in your early or mid-career) and should be frequently assessed, reflected upon, and amended (Hailey, 2021). This advice can be applied to all parts of your life, even outside of school. For example, our therapist colleagues and I (A. Parks) often utilize values exploration and identification activities in our sessions with our own clients, who may be struggling with boundary setting or experiencing distress in their interpersonal relationships or with choosing a career path. There are several ways to approach creating this list. Figure 7.1 outlines one activity that my colleagues and I have found to be successful in our own priority setting in graduate school.

Figure 7.1 Activity for assessing priorities and values.

Figure 7.1 depicts an ice-cream cone. There are three pieces highlighted: the cone, the ice cream, and the cherry. The cone represents your non-negotiables; these are values, activities, categories, or items that you believe to be essential to your success as a person and a graduate student. The ice cream cone represents your negotiables; these are important to your success and happiness, but you are willing to compromise the frequency or intensity in which they exist in your life. Lastly, the cherry (or your favorite topping) represents the activities, items, or categories that you consider to be a treat. They are not required for your daily success and happiness, but when present, they add a little more joy or pleasure to your life. Importantly, these non-negotiables may look very different from what your colleagues or your institution may deem essential. The work in academia does not stop; however, that does not mean you should not take time to slow down or even go at your own pace. Our “embracing the thriving” section will further describe the importance of authenticity and how, through trial and error, to quiet the outside noise and learn to distinguish your own values from the values of others.

Keeping our ice cream cones in mind, relationships are a non-negotiable that will be vital to your success in graduate school as a BIPOC student. As people of color, traditionally, our communities sustain us. Communalism, familismo, and filial piety are similar yet unique values of BIPOC communities that reflect a shared collectivistic nature, harmony, and appreciation of interconnectedness among people (Boykin et al., 1997; Kim et al., 2001; Rivera et al., 2008). Extant research has demonstrated that academia and many institutions were not designed for BIPOC students and currently perpetuate oppressive practices and inequities for students (and faculty, staff) of color. Many of us will serve as activists and advocates during our graduate school journey and try to dismantle a number of those oppressive practices and systems. However, we must first focus our energy and time on our humanity. There may be nothing more human than our ability to feel, empathize, and relate with others. Given this, we describe how to nurture your relationships, including the one with self, and to find your people, your family, your community, or your tribe while in graduate school.

2.2 Nourish Your Relationship with Yourself

In order to endure the oft traumatic experience of graduate school as a BIPOC student, you must first advocate for and prioritize your wellness. As a result of having to cope with discrimination, systemic racism, and racism-related stress, BIPOC folks often develop many chronic health conditions and mental health concerns. If your graduate school and/or department does not include health insurance with your funding, and you have the emotional and mental energy, try to advocate with other students and faculty for them to provide it. Unfortunately, this may take several years. In the interim, as much as possible, prioritize your own therapy and other medical appointments. Ironically, graduate students training to be therapists often neglect their own mental health while supporting the mental health of so many others. One hour a week or every other week is vital to your self-preservation as a person of color and should not be compromised. If possible, place these appointments in your schedule before scheduling your other commitments. We must always remind ourselves that we are humans, not machines. Our bodies and minds are to be treasured, nourished, and treated with respect and kindness.

Additionally, nourish your relationship with yourself, by paying yourself first! I (A. Parks) received this advice in my fifth year, and it has slowly improved how I navigate my graduate program. At the beginning of every year, semester, month, and day, pay yourself first. Outline what you need to complete your milestones and goals in the program and your personal life, and work on those items first every morning. In your physical or electronic calendar, schedule a recurring time for your own work and writing, as you would a class or a meeting with your advisor. Days fly by and tasks pile up; often we do not get to our work until very late in the evening, when all of our energy has been depleted. Paying yourself first is one way you can practice radical self-care, and it will guarantee that by the time you graduate, you will be as excited and hopeful as you are now reading this chapter. Our “embracing the thriving” section will expand upon the definition of radical self-care and additional strategies for its prioritization.

2.3 Maintain Relationships that Began Before Graduate School

Community is central to the successful transition to graduate school for BIPOC students. However, too often the focus is placed on the new community you will encounter. It is important to also pour into the people and relationships that contributed to your journey and helped to make you the person you are today. In graduate school, it can become very easy to unintentionally neglect your friends and family. There is no course on how to balance work and our personal relationships while in graduate school. We must fight the urge to succumb to the outside pressure to devote all our time to our graduate work. The more we engage our communal nature, and attempt to reject individualism and its friendly associate, competitiveness, the more we will succeed.

Some suggestions for engaging your community that were present before graduate school include to first communicate, frequently and intensely, with them. Share your wins with them as much as possible! You may begin to unintentionally neglect your friends and family because of the outside pressure to devote all of your time to your school work. Upon reflecting on my time in graduate school, I realized I habitually avoided talking about my school work with my friends and family. I quickly shut down questions about important projects that took up most of my energy on a weekly basis. I began to realize this as a symptom of being disconnected from my purpose. When I began to open up more about my wins and smaller accomplishments with my tribe, my creativity and motivation was reignited. Our close friends and family know us well and can serve as important reminders for our purpose when we begin to use avoidant coping, feel numb, or have thoughts of giving up altogether. They can provide insight into problems and barriers we have experienced with our clients and research ideas and can help us to avoid retreating to the ivory tower. They can also assist us with accountability and can help reinforce us when we notice that our cup is rapidly draining. Disengaging with our tribe can lead to isolation, increased anxiety, burdensomeness, depression, and maybe the most underemphasized, inauthenticity.

Questions you may consider asking yourself to assess your maintenance of “pre-graduate school” relationships: How often do you check in with your loved ones? When you talk to them, do you find yourself asking them more questions about their lives? Do you find yourself avoiding bringing up your graduate school projects? If so, why do you think that may be? Are you worried they won’t understand? Are you worried that they may judge or criticize your progress? Do you find yourself growing disinterested in your own work?

If you answered “no” to most of these, then great job! You seem to be navigating your “pre-graduate school” relationships with harmony and reciprocity. If you answered “yes” to most of these, then we gon’ figure it out together! Our first recommendation would be to begin to reflect on why you may be more disconnected from these relationships. This reflection can also occur in collaboration with your support system. Additionally, it may be helpful to begin weaving your pre-graduate school relationships into your graduate life, in moderation of course, as many find that keeping school and personal life separate serves them best. One way to involve your pre-graduate school folks in your accountability could be to schedule half-hour check-ins, biweekly or monthly, where the time is spent solely on explaining your research to them and receiving feedback on its accessibility. Many BIPOC students feel encouraged by inviting their pre-graduate school folks to their thesis and dissertation proposals and defenses or introducing them to their graduate school mentor and friends. Regardless of what works best for you, the crucial piece is to ensure you are utilizing your community in a way that feels authentic to you, as you cannot make it through graduate school alone.

2.4 Find and Build Relationships Within Your Graduate Community

Finally, we cannot forget the relationships that we will create while on our journey to the PhD. These relationships are diverse and can include other doctoral students in your program, psychology department, your university institution, and even on a national scale (e.g., APAGS, APA division special interest groups, or social media). For example, @blackwomenphds on Twitter features Black women graduate students and PhDs and hosts space for reflection and writing. Ideally, your program or department may have a student-led initiative with an aim for peer mentoring and event curation, which may more easily allow you to meet and get to know your cohort on a personal level. For BIPOC students, finding your people will be essential to thriving in graduate school. These people may or may not always share your racial and ethnic identities, but must share your values and priorities. One way that BIPOC graduate students in our program helped to create community was through hosting parties or kickbacks where the new BIPOC students could meet current students and learn more about the culture of the department. Further, graduate students created a GroupMe, titled Black Girls Matter, to sustain our relationships, discuss our gripes with the program, process microaggressive interactions, or most importantly, to laugh with each other about the latest viral thread on Twitter or plan outings together to focus on our wellness. Below, we have included additional concrete tips for sustaining your relationships with your graduate school tribe. These can also be applied to all relationships you develop along the way.

Tips for Sustaining Relationships

• Engaging each other for accountability and support. Start a weekly writing group with other BIPOC students where you can prioritize your work and provide feedback to each other throughout the writing process. Expand upon this weekly time by considering attending or creating writing retreats with each other for a weekend or two throughout the semester.

  1. ◦ Working on fellowship, scholarship, and internship applications together.

  2. ◦ Taking trips out of the city and developing boundaries about school. For example, only discussing school for 15 minutes and ensuring the remainder of the trip is a school-free zone.

• Using our strengths to help each other. For example, if you are very disciplined when it comes to sleep, but you have a friend who struggles with insomnia, consider developing an accountability plan wherein you text the friend every night an hour before bed and remind them to wind down and check in on them in the morning.

• Sharing cultural celebrations and traditions with each other. Family dinners, book clubs, watch parties, and group chats, or celebrating cultural holidays together.

• Celebrating and promoting each other. Attending proposals and defenses, nominating each other for appropriate scholarships or awards, and sharing research and fellowship opportunities with each other. Finding a weekly time to celebrate all wins with each other.

Outside of the people you meet in graduate school, who are also pursuing a graduate degree, you will also find community in the people of the city or town of your graduate institution. Recalling our activity in Figure 7.1, where you elect to spend your time, and subsequently build your relationships, will be dependent on your values. For example, you may hold existing spiritual or religious identities you want to feed, and you may find home and support in local churches, temples, synagogues, or other religious organizations. The people you meet at these places will undoubtedly connect you with additional supports and organizations or areas of the city that may further align or expand upon your interests. Additionally, for BIPOC students, engaging with cultural organizations may help you to feel at home, away from home, and nourish your cultural values even further. One way to find cultural organizations and events will be to follow local social media accounts and connect with university student-led cultural organizations or university centers. These organizations or centers will be more knowledgeable about how to get involved in your racial/ethnic community, outside of or within the institution. At the end of your graduate journey, when you walk across the stage and your degree is conferred, these relationships will be what you remember, what will persist, and what will matter.

2.5 A Brief Word on Jegnaship

As we close out our section on the toolkit, we would be remiss if we did not briefly discuss a relational approach to mentorship that we find is critical. We did not provide an exhaustive discussion of mentorship, advising, and sponsorship because we feel that the aforementioned APAGS Resource Guide provides a fantastic overview of these vital relationships. Nevertheless, there is a form of advisement rooted in Afrocentric perspectives which we feel has benefited each of us, and is worthy of excavation: jegnaship. Black psychologist Wade Nobles (2002) describes the jegna as one who has shown determination and courage in protecting their peoples, land, and culture; produced an exceptionally high quality of work; and dedicated themselves to the protection, defense, nurturance, and development of future generations. The Association of Black Psychologists has long recognized the importance of jegnaship as a transformative experience that goes beyond what is typically considered in a mentor/mentee relationship. It invokes community, family, village, many of the elements we have described before. Although jegnaship is considered a pillar of Black psychology and thus highly applicable to Black trainees in psychology, we would encourage you all to find your version of a Jegna, someone who will pour into you holistically, providing the nourishment needed to traverse the sands of graduate school.

3. Embrace the Thriving

In our first two sections, we have made the case for understanding what the landscape may be for BIPOC graduate trainees in psychology and have provided some tools for such a journey, centered on the critical role of meaningful self- and other-relationships. However, despite our extended desert/beach metaphor, and the realities that graduate school can be an exhausting experience for BIPOC students, we reject that graduate school for BIPOC students should merely be a time of surviving (mere existence). Rather, we proclaim and affirm that your experience can be a time of thriving (growth and flourishing). This is the focus of our final section.

3.1 Rise and Thrive: Using Healing Justice to Thrive and Resist Oppression

Attention BIPOC trainees: we absolutely can live our best lives during graduate school and enjoy the ample experiences and lessons along the way. We can and we deserve to flourish and enjoy the unique opportunities to grow personally and professionally and to develop meaningful and lasting connections with colleagues, mentors, and friends. More importantly, we each can contribute to changing the racially oppressive culture that remains rampant within psychology graduate programs. Our thriving and resistance can pave the way for more supportive and equitable experiences for BIPOC graduate students to come. One critical strategy towards promoting our thriving and resistance against oppression in academic settings is adopting an ethic and practice of healing justice. Pyles (2018) defines healing justice as “a framework that identifies how we can holistically respond to and intervene on generational trauma and violence and bring collective practices that can impact and transform the consequences of oppression on our bodies, hearts and minds” (pp. xviii–xix). The principle of healing justice offers a pathway toward addressing and mitigating the traumas and stressors uniquely imposed upon racially and/or ethnically marginalized communities in higher education. Prioritizing your healing and wellness not only contributes to individual and collective emotional, cognitive, and physical preservation, but also serves as a form of resistance against the racially oppressive impositions of “grind culture,” inauthenticity, and perfectionism that have historically plagued BIPOC graduate students. Healing justice can provide us with an opportunity to partake in the facilitation of systemic change. When you care for yourself, you care for others, especially those with whom you share common identities. Similarly, when you care for yourself, you challenge racist ideals that render BIPOC students undeserving of grace, compassion, rest, and pleasure. Furthermore, we believe that we can maintain a culture of healing justice in graduate school by (1) embracing mediocrity; (2) showing up as our authentic selves; and (3) celebrating your achievements and promoting yourself.

3.2 Embracing Mediocrity

“You have to work twice as hard to get half as far” – sound familiar? I (K. Allen), like most BIPOC students, grew up hearing and living by this expression. I believed that I needed to be excellent at every step of my academic journey to reach the spaces and positions I desired. I thought that achieving consistent perfection would give me a sense of vindication and liberation in white-dominated academic settings; however, graduate school taught me otherwise. By my third year, I had begun to seriously question whether I had enough energy to make it through the remainder of my doctoral program. My relentless pursuit of excellence and perfection had propelled me onto a fast track to burnout. I realized that I would likely not make it through to the finish line if I were to continue to overextend myself. This prompted my interrogation of my and other BIPOC students’ tendencies to “do the most” for every single assignment, task, and role. Oftentimes, BIPOC graduate students feel pressured to demonstrate effort, intellect, and creativity that exceed well beyond that of White students, just to be considered for “equal” opportunities and recognition. To be clear, this pressure is not derived from mere perception. It is true that White people are rewarded more opportunities and accolades than racially marginalized people for the same or lesser effort, and they receive less penalization for mistakes and shortcomings. This is just one of many ways institutional racism manifests in academia. However, succumbing to this expectation often leads BIPOC to overwork to the point of near exhaustion. Furthermore, many of us find ourselves spiraling into a perpetual struggle with perfectionism.

Graduate school will be one of the most challenging and demanding life experiences that you will likely encounter. Psychology graduate programs, in particular, will stretch you to inconceivable lengths. Your schedule will be jam-packed with research projects, assistantship tasks, clinical work, preliminary exams, dissertation writing, class attendance and assignments, and a host of other responsibilities. In addition, as a BIPOC student, you will likely expend much time, as well as emotional and mental energy, processing and battling incidences of racial discrimination within your department and beyond. Given the demands on your time, energy, and effort, it is inevitable that you will have to aim for completion, rather than perfection, at times. It is impossible to read every article and book chapter, submit an “A”-quality paper each time, attend every club meeting, take on every available leadership position, and so forth, while sustaining sound physical and emotional wellness. Your work will need to be mediocre, at times. This is not just okay, but necessary for self-preservation. Embracing mediocrity can be especially difficult for BIPOC students to accept and practice, as we have long used perfectionism and overexertion to cope with discrimination and bias. However, these coping mechanisms are not sustainable, especially within psychology graduate programs. To thrive and resist academic racism, you must grant yourself the grace and compassion to be imperfect. Reclaim the energy you might otherwise expend in pursuit of perfection and invest that into yourself. Not every task requires your best effort and thought. Observe and learn what tasks truly require your best work, and limit the time and energy you expend on the rest. Your weekly reflection papers for courses do not need to contain your most profound questions and commentary. You need not thoroughly read every assigned book chapter. Furthermore, we have discovered that more often than not, our “mediocre” performance was actually far better than we give ourselves credit. Our grades did not change when we committed ourselves to unlearning the habit of overworking, but our overall happiness and well-being most certainly did.

When we embrace mediocrity, we reject the racist ideologies that have denigrated the intellectual capabilities and value of BIPOC in the field of psychology and elsewhere. We transcend, rather than accept, the White supremacist falsehood that the value of our work, skills, and effort is lessened by our racial identities. Remember, you do not have to prove your worthiness of existing in a psychology graduate school program. You are already excellent and deserving as you are. Be mediocre when you need to. Reinvest your energy into yourself and your community. This simple yet profound act of resistance and radical self-compassion can contribute to genuine, meaningful transformation of psychology training programs.

3.3 Authenticity

Self-altering is an age-old coping mechanism that many BIPOC have adopted to navigate racially hostile terrain within collegiate settings. We may “put our heads down and get through,” a strategy that is sometimes even advised by well-meaning BIPOC faculty for whom this approach was adaptive during graduate training. Thus, each day, we negotiate which parts of ourselves we will leave at home and which parts we will bring with us into our academic spaces. We may silence our voices, suppress our valid and real emotional responses to racism, alter our hair and clothing, and even change our voices and dialect to meet the Eurocentric standards that are deemed acceptable in the academy. Truthfully, suppressing your authentic self will not protect you from experiencing racism, but it will almost certainly drain your spirit. Indeed, behaving in manners incongruent with your values, beliefs, and genuine interests can negatively impact your overall well-being (Harter, 2012). On the other hand, embracing authenticity can reduce your risk of burnout, contingent self-esteem, and psychological distress.

Challenge whitewashed standards of “professionalism” that have historically been used to denigrate, exclude, and silence BIPOC students and faculty. Showing up authentically will not only support our overall well-being, but in doing so, we can shift the racist tradition of professionalism in graduate school. The following are some ways in which you can persist as your authentic self in graduate programs:

• Speak in your native language(s) and dialect. Do not feel pressured to “code switch.”

• Dress in a way that is congruent with your personal and cultural identity, especially during presentations and conferences.

• Wear your hair in its natural state.

• Integrate your genuine values and customs into your research and clinical practice.

3.4 Self-Promoting and Celebrating

Many BIPOC trainees come from collectivist cultures. As we stated earlier, many of these cultures emphasize the community over the individual. Although we all have a healthy appreciation for this perspective, we nevertheless want to highlight the importance of effective self-promotion. At a minimum, this includes having and distributing business cards. However, beyond this traditional tool, we also advocate for creating blogsites, websites, and social media profiles as relevant as a means of networking and sharing your research and accomplishments. If your program or department has some sort of newsletter or blast for recognizing graduate student awards, consider letting the proper administrative personnel know. If this feels too misaligned with your values, this may be a great ask of your mentors or jegnas, or even your fellow colleagues.

Closely related to the notion of self-promotion is celebrating. Perhaps also eschewed by some cultures represented among BIPOC trainees, we feel that it is impossible to thrive in graduate school without frequent celebration and joy. Researchers have found that some of the greatest minds have been able to endure because they took stock to identify “small wins,” and then, upon recognizing that a small win, some progress toward a more protracted goal had arrived, they took time to celebrate (Amabile & Kramer, 2011). In the same way that we reject the lies of hyper-productivity and inauthenticity, we similarly rail against notions that the only moments in graduate school worth celebrating are “major” milestones. Yes, please celebrate passing your thesis, comprehensive or qualifying examinations, and dissertations. But also: finally figured out that stats syntax? Celebrate! Submitted that fellowship application? Celebrate! Got through year one of your program as whole as possible? Celebrate! Got an e-mail from a student sharing how much your help as a Teaching Assistant helped them figure out their major? Celebrate! I (S. Jones) personally encourage you to craft a celebration playlist that you have queued up for just such an auspicious occasion. Perhaps it’s Cake By the Ocean or Vamos a La Playa or Soak Up the Sun or Beach Chair (are you catching our beach theme here?). Celebrating sustains us; the joy it produces is the nectar of BIPOC thriving in graduate school.

4. Conclusion

As we close out this chapter, we wish to draw attention back to the post-colon portion of our title. This supplication is a play on the words of Brene Brown. In her book, The Gifts of Imperfection, Brown (2010) distinguishes “fitting in” versus “belonging” in the following light: whereas fitting in is described as “becoming who you need to be to be accepted,” belonging simply requires us to “be who we are.” This is our hope for every BIPOC trainee at every program in the country. As you understand the terrain that is your school and unit, take up core strategies for traversing, and embrace a spirit of thriving rather than simply surviving, we trust that it will lead you to a feeling that you belong at your program as your authentic self, without needing to conform, transform, or assimilate. Indeed, whether the sand between your toes is beach or desert, you belong at your graduate school program.

Nevertheless, in the immortal words of Levar Burton on Reading Rainbow “don’t just take [our] word for it.” We invite you to read the following list of affirmations provided by trainees of color (Table 7.1).

Table 7.1 Affirmations from current trainees of color in psychology programs

Change is the only consistent thing in life. Be yourself and you are enough. You have your own timeline and journey; no need to compare yourself to others. Your time will come. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Take care of yourself first before others. You’re not going to do everything and that’s okay.

Finding a community that can help you thrive is essential.

I advise you to take deep breaths when you feel frustrated or discouraged and recite that internal phrase that motivates you or has motivated you to get to that program. I always think of the people that have inspired and supported me. Celebrate every little victory because that makes the slow process of a PhD feel like there has been progression. Finally, remember that self-care helps get you through your program because that is what re-energizes you and growing in self-care along with your PhD knowledge makes you a more whole person (in my opinion).

Just because others do not understand your ideas or consistently criticize your reasoning for studying a particular topic, does not mean that your work is not important. Sometimes, just showing up is enough! Your presence is enough!

Please know that rest is important. If you are lacking this as a graduate student, you won’t magically get it as a faculty member or professional.

Protect your magic. I would pass that on to students of color generally. You are a hot commodity in these spaces. Don’t let everyone take your energy.

Remember that you deserve to be where you are. A lot of people feel like impostor syndrome can be endearing but that mindset can be detrimental to developing the confidence and competence you need to be successful in these settings.

Some of your greatest sources of support in the difficult times will be your family, friends, and colleagues that affirm the challenges associated with the journey you are embarking on. Lean on this support and hold fast to it when things get overwhelming. In the moments where you get lost in the difficulty these are the individuals that remind you of who you are and give you the support and encouragement to press on.

Take care of yourself physically and mentally. Say no and stick with it. You don’t need to deal with the academia trauma.

You are much smarter and more capable than you give yourself credit for! I promise, you wrote enough (for that assignment)!

You are human. You are more than a student. There will always be work. Please rest. Please call your family and friends. Your future self says thank you.

You are worthy. Those who have come before you will guide you, just as you will be there to guide those who come after you. Your voice matters, even in spaces that are invalidating or seemingly inhospitable. There’s a community out there for everyone – find one that values you for YOU!

8 Navigating Graduate School in Psychology as a Sexual and/or Gender Minority (LGBTQ+) Student

Leigh A. Spivey-Rita & Ilana S. Berman

Why are we writing a chapter in the Portable Mentor for sexual and gender minority (SGM) graduate students in psychology? Recent data from Gallup indicates that the number of individuals openly identifying as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or queer (LGBTQ) in the US is rising and that the largest increases are happening among individuals between the ages of 18 and 36 (Newport, 2018). As our community becomes increasingly visible – particularly among young adults – the field of psychology needs to talk more directly about how to provide mentorship for sexual and gender minority trainees to meet their unique needs. We intentionally use the term “sexual and gender minority” as a broad umbrella term to be inclusive of the wide range of identities and lived experiences of individuals within the LGBTQ community.

Why is the fact that you are a member of the SGM community relevant to your graduate experience? There are many universal graduate student experiences (e.g., professional skill development, research milestones) that you will face alongside your cisgender and heterosexual peers. However, as an SGM graduate student, you will need to navigate unique circumstances related to your identity. Due to both the successes and challenges we have had, we recognize how important it is for SGM graduate students in psychology to have access to identity-specific mentorship. Given that it can be hard to find an SGM-identifying mentor in your field – which can be further complicated if your SGM identities are invisible – we hope this chapter will serve as a supplemental mentor to guide you through personal and professional issues unique to SGM students.

Although this chapter is first and foremost written for the benefit of SGM students, we hope it can be helpful for allies at any level of training in psychology to learn more about the unique considerations for SGM students. For example, the information here may be beneficial for peer allies seeking guidance on how to support SGM colleagues, or for faculty mentors to learn how to effectively mentor SGM students.

We have structured this chapter chronologically to follow your trajectory through the early stages of a career in psychology, as we know that professional considerations related to an SGM identity will evolve as you advance through your training. Specifically, we will discuss common concerns and opportunities experienced by SGM students before, during, and after graduate school.

This chapter is informed by our experiences as queer, cisgender women who navigated personal and professional issues in graduate school related to our identities and research interests in SGM populations. We recognize that we cannot speak for the lived experiences of all individuals within the SGM community; thus, this chapter is not intended to be a comprehensive guide for all SGM graduate students. There are several other published resources available for SGM graduate students in psychology, which we hope you will explore in addition to this chapter (see Table 8.1), including a resource from the American Psychological Association of Graduate Students (APAGS; “Proud and Prepared”) that highlights voices and experiences from a range of SGM students. Ultimately, we hope that this chapter can support you as you seek out personalized mentorship and as you navigate your own professional development as an SGM psychologist.

Table 8.1 Resources for SGM graduate students in psychology

Resource	Website	Description
APA Proud and Prepared	www.apa.org/apags/resources/lgbt-guide	A guide for LGBT students navigating graduate training
APA Resources for Graduate Students of LGBT Psychology	www.apa.org/pi/lgbt/resources/graduate-students	Funding opportunities, research resources, guides, etc.
APAGS-CLGBTC Climate Guide	www.apa.org/apags/resources/clgbt-climate-guide.pdf	Guide for evaluating the inclusivity of graduate programs
A Guide for Supporting Trans and Gender Diverse Students	www.apa.org/apags/governance/subcommittees/supporting-diverse-students.pdf	APAGS resource for supporting trans and gender diverse students in graduate school
Consortium of Higher Education LGBT Resource Professionals	www.LGBTcampus.org	Provides a map of campus LGBT centers with at least one paid employee. Note: Other community (non-campus affiliated) centers and/or unfunded campus groups may exist but are not listed here
Transgender Law & Policy Institute	www.transgenderlaw.org/	A list of colleges and universities with LGBT protections
Guidelines for Psychological Practice With Transgender and Gender Nonconforming People	www.apa.org/practice/guidelines/transgender.pdf	Guidelines for culturally competent, gender-affirmative psychological care for gender diverse clients

1. Before Graduate School: The Application and Interview Process

So, you have decided to pursue a graduate degree in psychology – great! The process of applying to and interviewing with potential graduate programs carries both opportunities and challenges related to your identity as an SGM individual. We will provide recommendations specific to SGM applicants that may help you through the process of identifying and narrowing your list of prospective mentors and programs. Similarly, this section will guide you through unique considerations relevant to the application and interview process that will help you to succeed as a prospective SGM graduate student.

1.1 Personal Considerations

There are a number of factors about your personal journey as an SGM individual that may influence how you navigate this stage of your professional career in psychology. At a fundamental level, it is important to self-reflect: To what extent are you “out” or open about your identities? How comfortable are you discussing your identities with others? How relevant or central are your personal identities to your professional identity? How important is it to you to share these aspects of your identities within your professional spheres? To what extent do your personal identities overlap with your professional interests? The answers to these questions will shape how you approach various aspects of graduate school training and your career in psychology.

It is important to emphasize the autonomy and control you have in deciding how, if at all, your personal identities intersect with your professional development. Whether and to what extent you choose to incorporate your SGM identities into your professional life is ultimately a question related to your values. Regardless of whether you choose to be “out” and vocal about your identities, or whether you prefer to maintain privacy and not discuss your identities in professional settings, your choice is valid. We recognize that not all sexual and gender minority students wish to be visible. Your comfort level with visibility may vary relative to other people, and may even change over time during the course of your graduate training.

1.2 Identifying a Research Mentor

One important lesson we learned in graduate school is that mentorship is one factor that helps already exceptional students to develop successful careers in psychology. There is no doubt that most, if not all, students enter graduate school with the inherent capacity to succeed. And yet, the ability to identify and utilize good mentorship can make a world of difference within a field that relies heavily on professional connections and learning from others’ experience.

The first step in applying to graduate school in psychology is deciding what you are interested in studying, including which broad area of psychology (e.g., social, developmental, clinical) and a general sense of a specific topic within that field. This is important because one of the primary components of the application process is identifying a compatible research mentor, given the field generally operates on a mentor model. If you have the ability to relocate, you may be considering programs across a wide geographic area. The process of developing a list and narrowing down potential programs and mentors can quickly become overwhelming!

You will want to identify a primary research mentor who can provide mentorship on your research interests, and with whom you also feel comfortable on a personal level. Evaluate for yourself what you are looking for in a mentor (e.g., area of expertise, their personal identities). For instance, some prospective SGM students may wish to work with a mentor who openly identifies as an SGM professional – although it may be difficult to find a mentor who shares both your research interests and SGM identities. Regardless of how your prospective mentor identifies, it is important that they seem able to effectively guide you toward resources to navigate professional issues as an SGM individual. Consider how important it is to you that your primary research mentor is involved in this aspect of your career development, as you can also seek out additional mentorship outside of this relationship.

1.2.1 Students with SGM Research/Clinical Interests

Some SGM students also have research or clinical interest in working with SGM populations. However, particularly in the small field of SGM psychology, it can be difficult to find a mentor that studies exactly what you are interested in. Therefore, you may find yourself in a position of having to compromise on some aspects of your research interests in the service of finding a good research mentor fit. The question is, do you prioritize working with a mentor who has expertise with SGM communities, or do you prioritize expertise in the specific phenomenon you wish to study? There are pros and cons to either approach that warrant consideration if you are not able to find a mentor whose interests perfectly align with yours.

Mentors with Content Expertise.

If you want to study SGM populations, there are implications of prioritizing working with a mentor who only has expertise in your desired content area. The extent to which challenges arise in this mentoring scenario may depend on the specific content area and how relevant it is to the population. For example, if you wanted to study depression and/or suicide in SGM populations, you may be able to find a mentor who has expertise in depression or suicide but who has not studied it in SGM populations.

If you select a mentor without knowledge of working with SGM populations, some mentors may be willing to delve into the research area with you. However, your mentor may rely on you to provide the expertise on SGM-specific topics. In this scenario, consider how comfortable and capable you are of providing expertise on SGM issues from a research standpoint. A note of caution when evaluating your own competencies: Generally speaking, it is not uncommon for individuals early in their training to overestimate their knowledge or abilities. It can be particularly challenging when we have a lived experience to recognize that our viewpoint is not representative of the diverse range of SGM experiences, nor does it necessarily equate to knowledge of the empirical literature on the broader population. It is important that you accurately and objectively assess your competencies, and to identify when you need further guidance and support, whether you have to seek it independently or with assistance. Ideally, your mentor could help facilitate consultation and collaboration with colleagues who have expertise working with SGM populations.

You may encounter challenges related to data collection when working with a mentor who does not usually study SGM populations. Typically, engaging in research with new populations, especially under-represented minorities such as SGM communities, requires collaborating with a network of community agencies and partners (e.g., community advisory boards). If there is no existing infrastructure within your lab to establish community partnerships, it may slow down your productivity and could even interfere with your ability to complete program milestones (e.g., collecting a dissertation sample). If you have the option to analyze pre-existing samples or data sets, it is possible that your variables of interest may not have been collected comprehensively or there may not be a large enough sample size of the particular group you are hoping to study. These challenges are not insurmountable, but you should think carefully about how they may impact your training experiences before committing to joining a lab.

Mentors with SGM Expertise.

If you prioritize finding a potential mentor who has expertise working with SGM populations, but they focus on a different content area from what you hope to study long term, you can benefit from learning about the unique concerns that impact SGM communities. Many faculty members will indicate they are open to incorporating students’ interests into their work, and it is very likely that their interest is genuine, yet the feasibility of doing so is variable. This could be a unique opportunity for you to begin developing your own research program early in your training, which could place you in the role of a valued junior colleague to your mentor. On the flip side, adding a new arm to your mentor’s research program may be difficult to implement, especially if their existing areas of interest are already well-developed (and/or funded). Again, a note of caution to not overestimate your abilities to manage large responsibilities independently.

1.3 The Application

It is understandable that as an SGM individual, you may have concerns about disclosing your SGM identities in your applications to graduate programs, whether related to fear of discrimination or uncertainty about how to navigate identity disclosures in a professional manner. Graduate programs will vary in what demographic information they collect on their application. Regardless of what information graduate programs proactively ask for, you will also have the opportunity to consider identity disclosure in your cover letters or essays.

As a person with lived experience with a minority identity, it makes sense that you may have concerns about discrimination. However, given the current socio-political climate of the field, having your application rejected on the basis of sexual or gender minority status would be an unlikely outcome (and generally illegal!). It is more likely that a program would value the unique perspective you may bring to the program or department. Some individuals opt to share elements of their SGM identity when it is professionally relevant in their application materials (e.g., “As an SGM researcher, I valued your program’s stated commitment to diversity”).

Gender minority students may face several specific concerns when it comes to navigating personal identity disclosures in the application process. Students whose name differs from their legal name, or whose gender differs from their legally recognized sex, may quickly encounter situations that necessitate identity disclosure when applying to graduate school or other training positions if those applications involve a formal background check. It may be helpful for you to plan ahead for these situations so that you can decide how to navigate it in a way that feels right for you. For example, you could choose to proactively reach out to human resources to have a direct conversation about any discrepancies that may arise on personnel paperwork. Be sure to familiarize yourself with the institution’s non-discrimination policies so that you know your rights.

1.4 Interviewing

Congratulations! You’ve identified mentors to apply to, and have now been invited to attend interviews at some wonderful programs. Remember, interviews are just as much an opportunity for you to interview the graduate program as it is a chance for them to get to know you. You may have the opportunity to interview in person or may be offered interviews via phone or video conferencing. There are pros and cons to each interview format when it comes to eliciting information relevant to the program’s climate for SGM students. Here, we will offer a few thoughts on what you may want to consider at this stage.

1.5 Identifying an Inclusive Environment

Finding a supportive and inclusive environment for graduate school is crucial for your well-being as a graduate student. The overarching culture and recognition of diversity within a department can make a big difference in your day-to-day activities in graduate school. It will likely impact how you feel in the classroom, conducting your research, and interacting with colleagues and students.

The weight of a non-inclusive environment can be very heavy to carry with you every day for four to six years, depending on the length of your program. The empirical literature on the health and well-being of SGM individuals indicates that minority stress experiences – proximal and distal stressors such as internalized stigma, expectations of rejection, discrimination, harassment – have a significant negative impact on physical and mental health (Meyer, 2003). An inclusive culture within your graduate program fosters growth, as you will likely be more fully engaged in your training when you do not have to worry about acceptance. Moreover, an inclusive environment allows you to dedicate more of your emotional, mental, and physical resources to focus on the essential academic tasks at hand.

As you evaluate potential programs, there are several things you can look for to identify an inclusive environment before you ever step foot on campus. Look at the department website – is there a statement about inclusivity? Do they mention a departmental and/or program-specific diversity committee? When you receive email correspondence from faculty, staff, or students in the program, do they include their pronouns in their email signature? Another great source of information is the program handbook, which is often publicly available on the program’s website. Read about the program’s training on diversity and multiculturalism. Some programs may offer stand-alone courses, whereas others may build in a multiculturalism training sequence that spans across graduate training years. Are these training experiences optional or required? These descriptions may give you a sense of the program’s commitment to incorporating multicultural training into students’ coursework.

It may be helpful to examine the university’s non-discrimination policies prior to your interview, in case you have any questions. The United States Supreme Court ruled in June 2020 that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibits firing of employees on the basis of their sexual orientation or gender identity (Bostock v. Clayton County, 2020). Nevertheless, it is important that you know your rights as an SGM student, and potentially employee (e.g., teaching assistantships), at any institution you are considering for your graduate education.

1.5.1 Practical Considerations

Bathroom access is an essential, but perhaps uncomfortable, topic to address. For some SGM students, bathrooms may not feel like a safe space. As you prepare to go on in-person interviews, or at the beginning of the interview day, it may be helpful to find out where the closest gender non-specific or single-occupancy bathroom is located by asking the program coordinator or a current graduate student in the program. While this question is most directly relevant to your experience during the interview day – the day will be stressful enough without having to worry about where you can relieve yourself – it is also going to be relevant on a daily basis when you start your graduate program. What would you do if the department does not have a bathroom that feels safe and affirming to you in their building? You may be able to manage for a single interview day, but remember that your graduate training will span several years.

As you gather information, you may want to investigate beyond your department’s specific building to learn what the broader campus community offers in terms of gender non-specific or single-occupancy restrooms. As a graduate student, you may find yourself moving around campus throughout the day (e.g., serving as a TA, attending seminars), which could offer opportunities to find safe restrooms even if one is not located in your building. If you are not interviewing in person (e.g., telephone or video-based conferencing), it will be important for you to identify someone to whom you feel comfortable asking these questions so you can make a fully informed decision.

Another practical consideration for in-person interviews is navigating housing accommodations if offered, given programs sometimes attempt to match prospective and graduate students by gender. If you think this will be a concern for you, consider reaching out to the program coordinator in advance to learn about your options and advocate for your needs.

1.5.2 During the Interview

Interviews are your chance to obtain information about a program that may be difficult to find in any published medium (e.g., handbooks, websites). Thus, conversations during interviews may offer unique opportunities to ask about the program’s climate on diversity and inclusion, as well as to get a sense of your personal fit with potential mentors and student colleagues.

Speaking with members of the department community and physically being in the department’s space (for in-person interviews) offers you a wealth of information about the inclusivity of the environment for SGM students. As you are walking around the psychology building, notice the visibility of inclusive messages (e.g., posters, pride flags, “Safe Zone” training signs). When you are talking with students or faculty in the program, pay attention to their verbal and non-verbal responses when you discuss topics related to inclusion and diversity (if you choose to bring up those topics!). Do they seem comfortable, or do you notice a tendency to minimize or over-generalize concerns related to diversity and inclusion? Importantly, gather data from multiple people and across interactions (e.g., staff, students, faculty) to see the patterns in responses that might be indicative of the program’s culture, rather than focusing on isolated interactions.

We have included a list of sample questions that you could consider asking while interviewing (Table 8.2). Keep in mind that during interviews, faculty and graduate students in the program cannot ask you questions that may relate to employment discrimination (e.g., national origin, disability status, sexual orientation, gender identity; Parent et al., 2015). Despite these guidelines, you may still encounter individuals who ask inappropriate personal questions on interviews; depending on the setting, there may be avenues for reporting this type of misconduct.

Table 8.2 Sample questions for SGM students to ask on interviews for graduate school

	Sample questions
To ask a potential mentor or other faculty members	What resources are available to support students of minority statuses? How does your lab typically assess sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression in your research? (Research with SGM populations) I am excited about your research on Topic A, and I am especially interested in how SGM individuals are impacted by it. Do you routinely collect data on participants’ sexual orientation, gender identity, and gender expression? How does the department acknowledge and address issues related to multiculturalism and diversity? (Within classes, research, clinical-settings, student well-being) Are there training opportunities specifically related to sexual and gender diversity? Are there other researchers in the department that study topics related to SGM communities who may be open to collaboration?
To ask graduate students	How are multiculturalism and diversity incorporated in the training curriculum? How do you and/or other students in the program feel about the quality of multiculturalism training? (If comfortable disclosing your identities) What diversity and inclusion and/or LGBTQ+ specific student groups exist on campus? In the community? (If applicable) What are the options for gender non-specific or single-occupancy restrooms on campus? How does program faculty solicit graduate student feedback? What student-initiated changes have been made since you entered the program? (Clinical/counseling) What populations are served in the various practicum sites you train in? Have you been able to obtain clinical experience with underserved populations? What are your experiences with SGM clients? What do students in the program do for fun outside of graduate school or the department?

Note: If you feel comfortable disclosing your identity statuses, you may want to tailor your questions more specifically.

Although representatives of the graduate program cannot ask you about the topics above, you are not prohibited from bringing up personal topics if you feel it would be helpful to discuss. Be mindful of your rationale for disclosing personal information on interviews, as the context and tone can impact how you are perceived by the interviewer. For instance, you may want to disclose your personal identities so you can learn about the job market in the community for your same-sex spouse. This type of question would be professionally relevant as it communicates your realistic interest in moving to the area.

In contrast, saying, “My partner really doesn’t want to move here given all the conservative religious people in this town – I don’t know if we could live around those kinds of people,” would likely not be received well. This type of statement communicates a low level of interest in the program as well as personal biases, both of which are likely to hurt your chance of receiving an admission offer from the program. Instead, the same concern could still be expressed in a more professional manner, such as, “I understand there is a prominent religious community in this area. How accepting is this community with regard to diversity?”

1.5.3 Assessing the Broader University and Community Culture

One aspect to consider about the broader university is whether there is a sexual and gender diversity center or student-run organization on campus. If so, do they provide programming for graduate/professional students? We recommend searching online and, if you feel comfortable, asking faculty or current graduate students about these offerings. An active campus sexual and gender diversity program is a great way to find and build community after starting graduate school.

Universities exist within a broader community that has a culture of its own. Similar to how you assessed the department culture, keep an eye out for indicators of the community’s culture during the interview process. If you have the luxury of staying over the night before or after in-person interviews, try to take a walk or ride around town. If you are able to visit a local establishment, notice how their bathrooms are labeled. What types of events are advertised on community bulletin boards? It is also helpful to ask current graduate students about their experiences in the community.

Regardless of your ability to explore the area in person, you may want to investigate local offerings with regard to community centers, non-profit organizations, or utilize social media to explore social events and activities geared toward SGM young adults or professionals. Many graduate students center their social network within the program or department, yet it may still be helpful to know what else is available. If you identify with a religious denomination, you may want to explore the religious institutions in the area surrounding campus to determine if there is a spiritual community that espouses inclusivity.

2. During Graduate School: Navigating Life as an SGM Graduate Student

You’ve made it! You successfully entered a graduate program in your chosen area of psychology, hopefully with a research mentor that provides a good fit for your interests and needs. Ideally, you enrolled in a graduate program that provides an inclusive environment for SGM students, although you may still recognize areas for potential improvement. So, now what? In this section, we discuss considerations for SGM students as you navigate your day-to-day life in graduate school.

For some SGM students, especially if you moved to a new city and are developing new social circles, starting graduate school in psychology may offer a wonderful opportunity to introduce yourself as you wish. Particularly for transgender and non-binary students, whether you have been using your affirmed name and pronouns for a long time or you are at the beginning stages of transitioning, starting graduate school affords you the opportunity to present yourself however you wish to be recognized in professional spheres.

2.1 Personal Support and Self-Care

We intentionally discuss personal support and self-care at the beginning of the section on life as a graduate student as we strongly believe that prioritizing your own well-being is the key to success in graduate school. In addition to professional mentorship from your primary advisor, it is crucial that you also seek out social support. This advice applies to all graduate students, but is particularly relevant for SGM students who may face additional stressors as a function of being a member of a minority group(s). Find peers who can support you both personally and professionally either within or outside of your graduate program. This may mean seeking out opportunities for social connection or support outside of your program (e.g., joining community sports teams, interest groups, volunteer programs, SGM-specific cultural centers). Similarly, self-care is an essential component of professional development during graduate school, although this is not always addressed directly during training. Be proactive in exploring methods of self-care to determine what works best for you during this stage of your career, and be sure to set personal boundaries to develop a work–life balance. In the event you need additional mental health support, seek out options for individual therapy that may be available for graduate students. We have also included a brief list of SGM-specific mental health resources (Table 8.3).

Table 8.3 Mental health resources for SGM individuals

Resource	Website and phone number	Description
Fenway Health	http://fenwayhealth.org/care/wellness-resources/help-lines/ 888-340-4528 for ages 25+ 800-399-PEER for ages 25 and under	SGM-focused health center helpline and peer listening line
LGBT National Hotline	www.glbthotline.org/national-hotline.html 888-843-4564	Anonymous and confidential hotline for SGM individuals to discuss SGM-related and other issues
Trans Lifeline	www.translifeline.org/ (877)-565-8860	Trans Lifeline is a trans-led organization that connects trans people to the community, support, and resources they need to survive and thrive Spanish-speaking extension available
The Trevor Project	www.thetrevorproject.org/get-help-now/ (866)-488-7386	Phone, chat, and texting support for SGM individuals up to age 25 in crisis

2.2 Navigating Relationships

If you have not already, you may come to learn that the answer to most questions in the field of psychology is, “It depends.” That will be entirely true for this next section as the way in which you navigate relationships will depend on your interpersonal style and preferences. We will present some of the situations and choice points you may navigate during your graduate training, but how you manage the situations is a very personal choice that varies across settings.

2.2.1 Primary Research Mentor

An offer of admission is an invitation from the faculty member to join their lab as a junior collaborator and they accept responsibility to be your professional mentor. By accepting their offer, your relationship will develop based on this mutual interest and agreement. The mentoring relationship offers a unique opportunity to form a close relationship with someone invested in you who chose to support you; mentors often have an intrinsic and extrinsic desire for you to succeed. For some SGM students, this may be in contrast to previous experiences within your family or community of origin. We encourage you to explore and take advantage of this unique setting where someone understands and supports your specific career interests and can support you as a flourishing early-stage professional. Although mentor changes can and do occur on occasion, you are working to develop a professional partnership that you cultivate with this person for the next several years and will hopefully last throughout your career.

Now that you have entered graduate school, you and your mentor have the opportunity to learn more about each other beyond what you shared in essays and a brief interview. Most mentors will check in with their students about how they are adjusting to the transition to graduate school, with coursework, and potentially with their move to a new area. This may invite a natural and more appropriate opportunity to disclose more personal information than you initially shared during the interview process (if you so choose). Some people prefer to be more reserved with sharing personal information initially and may disclose more as trust is built in the relationship. Occasionally, discussing aspects of a trainee’s personal life may help the mentor provide better overall support for the student’s well-being. Like any relationship, your comfort level with your mentor will hopefully grow over time as you begin to learn each other’s interpersonal and professional styles.

Often in an effort to learn more about you and connect, some eager research mentors may unintentionally ask you questions that feel inappropriately personal. Remember that you are not obligated to share information about your personal life but can if you feel comfortable doing so. Your relationship with your mentor may feel like a personal relationship, but the framework still exists in a professional setting. It is okay to keep your professional relationships professional.

Faculty members and mentors will remain important to your career before, during, and after graduate school. We cannot understate the importance of interpersonal relationships as a method of enhancing, or potentially impeding, your career trajectory via evaluations of your performance, letters of recommendation, and their willingness to provide networking opportunities and professional connections within the field, including job prospects and publishing opportunities.

2.2.2 Other Faculty Members

It is unrealistic to expect that one mentor can meet all of your needs in graduate school. Many graduate students in psychology develop mentorship relationships with other faculty in the department. Beyond classroom instruction, mentorship relationships with faculty can develop via individual meetings for office hours, research collaboration, or general professional mentorship. Explore and take advantage of opportunities to work with faculty who you admire and who seem invested in fostering student growth. This will help build and round out your professional network.

By developing a broad network of faculty mentors, you will have more support as you navigate challenges during graduate school. In particular, if you were to face discrimination as an SGM graduate student in psychology, you can rely on these faculty mentors for support and consultation. Most programs have specific guidelines, often included in the department handbook, that outline the steps of who to contact to address an instance of discrimination or harassment. These procedures often instruct students to begin by addressing the topic directly with the individual, if possible, and/or speaking with your mentor, then working up the chain of command within the department before filing a formal grievance or complaint with the university at large.

2.2.3 Seeking SGM-Specific Mentorship

Some SGM trainees find it useful to find a mentor who can provide guidance on professional development related to their SGM identity. If you choose to do so, you can learn from professionals in the field who have navigated similar challenges and can connect you to relevant resources or networks of other individuals. The reality is that most psychology departments have a small group of faculty members. Given that only 4.5 percent of the US adult population identifies as SGM (Newport, 2018), the odds of having one or more queer-identifying (and out) faculty are low. You will most likely need to use creativity to find SGM mentors to help you navigate concerns of presenting your identities in the academic world. For instance, you may be able to identify SGM faculty in other departments at your home institution.

For SGM mentorship specifically within the field of psychology, you may also consider curating a network of psychologists outside of your university. Throughout the interview process for graduate school, you may identify faculty members with whom you felt comfortable but the overall fit of the program for your graduate training was not optimal. Consider that you can maintain connections with anyone you meet along your journey and continue to network with them as you enter graduate school at another institution if they are open to it. From personal experience, most SGM faculty members are willing and eager to provide mentorship to other SGM individuals. Several professional organizations now have specialty groups for members who identify as SGM or for psychologists studying or working with individuals in SGM communities (Table 8.4). You can form individual connections, utilize professional listservs, and access relevant resources by joining these specialized organizations.

Table 8.4 Professional groups and networking for SGM graduate students in psychology

Resource	Website	Description
APA Committee on Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity	www.apa.org/pi/lgbt/committee/index	APA-wide committee
APA Society for the Psychological Study of LGBT Issues (Division 44)	www.apadivision44.org/	APA division for research on SGM issues
APAGS Committee on Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity	www.apa.org/apags/governance/subcommittees/csogd	Graduate student committee
APA LGBT Graduate Student Mentoring Program	www.apa.org/apags/governance/subcommittees/clgbtc-mentoring-program	Mentoring program for LGBTQ+ students (year-long commitment)
APAGS Individual Peer Support	www.apa.org/apags/governance/subcommittees/lgbt-peer-support	Individual peer support program coordinated by APAGS Committee on Sexual Orientation and Gender Diversity
ABCT Sexual and Gender Minority SIG	www.abctsgmsig.com/	Clinically focused special interest group

2.2.4 Peer Colleagues

Being part of a small psychology graduate program is a unique gift. Training alongside a small group of peers often results in quickly establishing close bonds. Because fellow graduate students often include peers of similar ages and life stages, you are likely to develop friendships with these colleagues as many graduate students spend time socializing together outside of the department. A unique aspect of these peer relationships is that these colleagues will also become professionals in the field after graduation with whom you may continue to interact (e.g., at conferences, collaborations, networking opportunities). Consider if the potential for these to be career-long connections may alter how you choose to interact socially or professionally.

2.2.5 Lab Members

Within most research labs you will interact with a range of other lab members, potentially including other graduate students, undergraduate research assistants, post-baccalaureate research assistants, and postdoctoral fellows. Working closely with other lab members on mutual projects offers the opportunity to develop meaningful professional and/or personal relationships. You may find that you develop friendships with lab members outside of work. It is possible that, as an SGM student, it may be more complicated for you to navigate the gray space between the personal and the professional. Be proactive in thinking through how you wish to navigate disclosures about your personal life so that you can maintain the type of professional presence that you hope to develop.

As a graduate student, you may take the lead on research projects within the lab or may be acting in a supervisory role for others. You may even have the wonderful opportunity to serve as an unofficial mentor to more junior students (e.g., graduate students earlier in their training, undergraduate students). Being an SGM graduate student also places you in a unique position to serve as a mentor and role model to more junior SGM students. In the same way that it may have been difficult for you as an SGM graduate student to find a faculty mentor, more junior SGM students may also be seeking guidance from another SGM person with lived experience in the field of psychology. Keep in mind as you are developing relationships with lab members and potential mentees that hierarchies and power dynamics exist even within research labs, which may impact the appropriateness of social relationships.

When interacting with research participants (e.g., undergraduate students, community members), we recommend following the same professional guidelines as outlined above with regard to disclosing aspects of your personal identities. In experimental psychology, even if your research is completely unrelated to your identities, personal characteristics may become relevant factors as studies commonly consider experimenter-level factors. Therefore, you may find yourself in a situation where you are expected to disclose some aspects of your identity (e.g., gender identity). For non-binary and transgender students, this may be a time to lean on those trusted relationships you have been working hard to establish to navigate this situation (for specific guidance on empowering non-binary trainees, see Matsuno et al., 2020).

2.2.6 Undergraduate Students and Teaching

The relationships you develop with undergraduate students you teach in the context of being a TA (e.g., grading assignments, leading lab sections), guest lecturer, or graduate instructor (i.e., teaching courses) may be different from the relationships you have with undergraduate students in your lab. As a graduate instructor, you have unique opportunities to shape the learning experiences of undergraduate students. Although you may have access to previous materials for syllabi, slides, and classroom activities when creating your own course, you also have opportunities to customize the content. For instance, you may choose to promote equity by including a diversity statement in your syllabus and highlighting research from scholars in underrepresented minorities. Oftentimes, the culture around diversity and inclusion in a graduate program may differ substantially from that of the undergraduate population. If you choose to include an emphasis on diversity and inclusion in your courses, you may be offering undergraduate students their first exposure to these topics and ideas. This is a wonderful opportunity, but may also raise challenges if students react negatively. When contemplating how to include potentially thought-provoking or controversial material (e.g., topics related to SGM communities), you may want to seek consultation from faculty or teaching mentors.

Some instructors with SGM identities may fear judgment or scrutiny from their students related to their own identities or their choice to incorporate diversity-related material into their course. As an SGM graduate student, this is another important topic to seek out mentorship from trusted faculty. During the early stages of your teaching career, it may be helpful to develop your own evaluations to seek feedback from your students to understand their perceptions of your course material and the emotional safety of your classroom. Collecting informal feedback forms throughout the year may help your students feel heard and respected, and can help you tailor course content for the next time you teach it.

2.2.7 Clinical Settings

For SGM graduate students in clinical, counseling, or school psychology, you will have the opportunity to work with a diverse range of clientele. Graduate training programs approach self-disclosure (e.g., of identities or values) differently, yet, as always, you are in control of how much personal information you share. When considering self-disclosures, it is often advisable to discuss the purpose or rationale for sharing personal information with your clinical supervisor(s) in advance. Clinical supervisors typically provide safe spaces to discuss navigating your own identities as they relate to clinical work, as well as broader conversations about diversity and inclusion. These conversations can help you feel more prepared and comfortable when SGM-related topics arise in clinical interactions.

In the event that you find yourself uncomfortable in the context of your supervisory relationship (e.g., experiencing microaggressions against you or a client), you may want to reach out to another supervisor or training director to seek guidance about how to approach the difficult topic with your clinical supervisor. Learning to work with a variety of supervisors may itself be a growth opportunity, which often requires seeking external support along the way.

There is legal precedent that trainees may not refuse to provide clinical services to clients based on their belief systems (Wise et al., 2015), which is great for our field’s commitment to anti-discrimination policies and inclusion! However, this means that as an SGM trainee you may also encounter clients who hold views or values that oppose your own (e.g., discriminatory beliefs). First and foremost, it is important to prioritize your physical safety by clearly communicating potential concerns with your clinical supervisors. With regard to providing client care, we must similarly separate our beliefs and value systems from our clinical practice. It may be difficult to respond effectively when faced with discriminatory comments! This is another area in which consulting with your supervisor can help you manage your internal emotional reactions and external responses to facilitate appropriate and effective client care.

Conversely, you may also find yourself working with SGM clients, which offers an opportunity to provide an affirming environment for the client. It would not be uncommon, however, for these clients to be affiliated with local SGM-related communities that you may also be embedded in. In these circumstances, it would be wise to consult with your clinical supervisor(s) with regard to upholding APA Ethical Principles of Psychologists and Code of Conduct (2017) related to multiple relationships and conflicts of interest. You may be able to navigate these overlaps if they do not interfere with objectivity, or occasionally clients may be reassigned as needed.

2.2.8 Social Media

All graduate students and many other young professionals face the challenge of how much personal information to share publicly via social media. As an SGM student, your decision about what to share about your identities on social media stems from your values. Most importantly, we want you to be in control and aware of who is able to access what information about you in a way that is consistent with your personal comfort level. For example, if you are out to your friends, but do not feel comfortable being out to your professional colleagues, think carefully about your privacy settings. When in doubt, err on the side of caution, particularly related to potentially explicit content. This applies to photos, videos, descriptive posts about your day or life, political statements, relationship status and tags, and comments in a group or on friends’ pages. Colleagues, students, clients, prospective employers may all search for you on social media platforms or potentially be in similar networks or groups. Meanwhile, some forms of social media are becoming increasingly important as a professional platform to share your work so consider the intersection between your personal and professional social media presence.

Graduate school often overlaps with important life stages, such as engaging in romantic or sexual partnerships (casual and long-term) or even building a family. This can be a wonderful time in your life to be pursuing these aspects of personal development! As with broader considerations about social media, be cautious and intentional when it comes to utilizing virtual dating platforms (e.g., apps, websites, dating services). Think about how you can protect your privacy if there are aspects of your personal life you are not comfortable sharing with your professional colleagues. For example, although maintaining an active profile on a popular dating app may be fully consistent with your values and in alignment with you and your partner’s open relationship agreement, consider how you would handle a situation in which an undergraduate in your lab stumbled across your profile and rumors began to spread. You may be perfectly capable of navigating complicated circumstances such as this example with grace and professionalism, but a bit of advance thought and planning may help you avoid them altogether.

2.9 SGM Identity-Specific Considerations

2.9.1 Affirmed Name

When you begin publishing (if that is part of your career aspirations), your name will be the way others in the field recognize your work, which can pose challenges for students navigating name changes during graduate school. Some SGM students may feel comfortable using their affirmed name from the outset. On the other hand, if you end up changing your name after you have started publishing, know that many others have done so before you and that it is not a problem from a professional perspective. Some transgender researchers have changed their name but kept their initials consistent, beginning with only initials for publication purposes. One option if your publication record reflects different names is to include your former initials as a second line on your CV under your current name or as a note in the publications section. This can help rectify confusion, but, of course, may prominently highlight your gender history.

2.9.2 Tokenism

Although there are certainly some stressful aspects of being an openly SGM graduate student in a psychology department, there are also many wonderful opportunities. First, people in your program may look to you for information or resources on topics related to SGM identities – oftentimes with positive intentions! Faculty and peers may be able to recognize their own biases and gaps in knowledge and may genuinely be interested in learning. This means that you may have ample opportunities to educate others on issues related to SGM communities, should you be interested in doing so.

On the other hand, some people may be afraid or hesitant to ask questions about SGM topics due to fears of “messing up.” This is especially true in social circles or professional settings where people have an awareness of the impact of their words (i.e., psychologists!). This concern can lead to silence from members of the majority groups, who may intentionally or unintentionally rely on minority individuals to provide education for others. Whether or not others recognize your important perspective as a member of an SGM minority group, you are under no obligation to carry the burden of educating others.

Regardless of your decision to engage in these conversations, be as prepared as you can be to be put on the spot. If you receive an unwelcome question in a class or lab meeting, it can be helpful to take a pause before responding. If you wish, you can take these opportunities to share your experience and/or expertise on the subject, and use the situation as a teaching opportunity to note how that person could more effectively approach the topic in the future. If you decide you do not feel comfortable answering, you could offer a gentle redirection, “You know, I am not actually familiar with the literature on that topic. Does anyone else know the answer to that question?” Alternatively, you could be direct, “I don’t feel comfortable answering that question or speaking on behalf of a large and diverse community.” Be patient with yourself as you learn how to professionally navigate these situations in a way that feels authentic to you. You will likely have numerous occasions to practice and refine your preferred response style.

2.9.3 Advocacy to Address Concerns

As someone with one or more minority identities, you are likely very aware of how systems of power and privilege impact your life. Understanding the systems of power and privilege at play in graduate school will benefit you as an individual who will be navigating those systems. Your experience in the microcosm of a psychology department might be different in some ways but will likely still broadly reflect society at large. In the best-case scenarios, we can hope the psychology faculty consists of introspective individuals who are keenly aware of their role in the department, personal status and privileges, and consider the impact of their behavior on others, regardless of intention. The reality is that psychologists are humans too. Being surrounded by psychologists, unfortunately, does not mean everyone you encounter has overcome their personal biases, nor will you be free from systemic injustices.

It is certainly reasonable to expect that within professional settings such as a graduate program in psychology, you will not witness or experience acts of overt discrimination against SGM individuals. However, it may be more common to notice nuanced microaggressions – subtle moments that assert or defend cisgender and/or heterosexual values as normative, or unintentionally express an internalized stigma or implicit bias against SGM identities. This may present as discrete oversights or exclusions (e.g., forms noting only binary gender choices or “other,” describing family structures using exclusively heterosexual models), or through assumptions about your personal life made in informal interactions. Most often, advocacy efforts can occur in these micro-moments amidst everyday interactions. Although it takes a substantial amount of courage, challenge authorities and peers when you witness microaggressions. Even in your position as a graduate student, faculty may appreciate you drawing attention to issues of diversity and inclusion, given that you are uniquely suited to do so. For students with intersecting minority identities, such as SGM students of color, there may be further barriers to being vocal; however, diplomacy may assist in getting the message across in an effective manner. If or when you find yourself navigating these types of challenging situations, it is critical that you seek out others who can support you in advocating for yourself or further advocate on your behalf. Learning how to be assertive and advocate for yourself and your values may feel difficult or intimidating at the beginning of your graduate training, but will likely get easier with practice.

Consider and respect your own boundaries with regard to the emotional labor of advocacy work. It is important to balance your desire to advocate for changes aligned with your values with the real need to care for yourself and avoid emotional or physical burnout. If you are undertaking advocacy work, assess the status of your personal, emotional, and psychological resources and acknowledge what it might take emotionally and literally (e.g., time, investment) before jumping into a larger initiative. As a graduate student and human, there is no shame in taking moments for self-protection. Consider for yourself: What could I lose by speaking up? What is at risk if I do not speak up? Is now the best time for me to invest my resources? For example, if your master’s thesis is due next week, maybe wait – especially if a faculty member you are hoping to engage in a difficult discussion is on your committee. Is this the best platform for my voice to be heard? Choose your battles wisely but fight fiercely when you do.

2.9.4 Proactively Fostering a More Inclusive Environment

As a graduate student in a psychology program, you have the ability to foster an inclusive environment through your own actions. At a personal level, you will have to navigate your own personal relationships to develop an affirming environment for yourself. If you have the desire and drive to do more to benefit others, there are steps you can take to advance the inclusivity of the broader department. As a minority student, there is not an expectation that you have to advocate for changes, although you may be in an advantageous position with the lived experience to do so.

If it is consistent with your values and goals to take action, here are a few ways that you can foster further inclusivity within your psychology department and program. First, as a graduate student, you will be part of the recruitment process for incoming students. This gives you a voice in shaping the department’s culture of inclusivity as you will be able to advocate for prospective students who may contribute to a diverse scholarly environment. Additionally, you can voice the importance of talking about diversity and inclusion during the recruitment process so prospective students can be fully informed about your department’s culture.

Second, critically examine your department or program to evaluate what is missing when it comes to diversity and inclusion. Is there a diversity committee? If no, can you form one? You may have identified areas for improvement in the program when you were going through the interview process or after starting the program. Now that you are an established student, think about how you can act on those areas to improve the climate for yourself and other students.

Third, be bold and speak out when you see a need for change. For instance, if you notice demographic forms that are not inclusive in clinical or research settings, talk with your team about how changes can be made to improve the forms. As you recognize areas for improvement, identify people who can help you make changes. If you are not in a position of power, finding someone within the hierarchy who has more power, or who can help you advocate to those who do have power, to make the change can improve your chance of succeeding. Talking with your peers about diversity and inclusion is a very powerful way to make change, as you have a great deal of influence on one another during the formative growth that happens during graduate school.

3. Leaving Graduate School: Early Career Considerations

We wrote this chapter as we were completing our predoctoral internship in clinical psychology and began our postdoctoral fellowships, so we want to acknowledge that our lived experience of early career considerations for SGM trainees is just beginning! Nevertheless, we hope to leave you with a few thoughts regarding the transition from graduate school into your early career in psychology.

3.1 The Next Stage

The process of applying for an internship, post-doctoral fellowship, or faculty position carries many of the same considerations that you navigated when you applied to graduate school. As before, you will likely want to evaluate whether your next professional setting will be an inclusive environment. You will likely navigate many similar decision points about whether and how to disclose your own identity statuses. What is different at this stage is that, due to your substantial growth over the course of your graduate training, you will be more comfortable and confident in your professional identity. You may find that you have further clarified your personal values and that your approach to navigating interactions where your personal and professional identities intersect has evolved. Seek consultation and advice from your trusted mentors and peers as you go through the process of applying, interviewing, and negotiating for your first job so that your compensation and benefits accurately reflect your worth and expertise.

As an early career psychologist in a new setting, continue to keep your advocacy eyes open. What sort of training is available and/or mandated for new staff and faculty regarding issues related to diversity and inclusion? Are you satisfied with the approach taken? Recently, there has been more attention and training in diversity and inclusion for current graduate student trainees; do your senior colleagues have similar exposure to such training (e.g., “Safe Zone”/ally workshops, ongoing discussions)? If you work on a multidisciplinary team, what can you offer as an informed psychologist to advance inclusivity across all team members?

3.2 Becoming a Mentor

Eventually, the day will come when you are on the other side of graduate school. Regardless of your professional path, there will be opportunities for you to step into the role of being a mentor or leader. Entering these roles with lived experience as an SGM professional in the field gives you a unique and valuable perspective on how to support trainees. Undoubtedly, the successes and challenges you faced related to your identities will inform how you mentor students in the future.

As a mentor, there are many steps you can take to support students regardless of their identities. First and foremost, you have the opportunity to create safe and affirming environments in your relationships with your mentees as well as in your lab culture. Communicating respect and inclusivity in your everyday interactions goes a long way in fostering an affirming environment, particularly for SGM students. If you have the opportunity to mentor an SGM student, focus on helping connect your mentee to resources that may be beneficial to their training and professional development. This may mean finding written resources (see Table 8.1) that both you and your mentee can review, or helping to establish professional connections between your mentee and other professionals in the field who can provide additional mentorship (Table 8.4).

Finally, be willing to have direct conversations with your trainee about what they would find helpful. It is important to be mindful of your trainee’s privacy and boundaries around discussing their personal identities. However, if your trainee brings up topics related to their identity as an SGM student, enter the conversation with cultural humility – a genuine professional curiosity, openness to learning, and appreciation for their willingness to share. Following your conversation, you may want to do an independent search for more information based on what your mentee shared rather than relying on them to provide your full education on the topic. Perhaps you will want to learn more surrounding unfamiliar terminology or an issue you did not realize affected SGM students. Being able to further your learning and return to future conversations can lead to a mutually beneficial mentoring relationship.

4. Closing Thoughts

Reading this chapter was a great place to start, and you are likely well on your way to developing a successful career as an SGM psychologist. There are many paths to success, and only you know what will be right for your career. Your perspective as an SGM psychologist will likely change over time, both due to your developmental stage and broader societal processes. For instance, we witnessed substantial socio-political changes regarding SGM communities in our time in graduate school (e.g., federal recognition of marriage equality). Your professional development as an SGM psychologist will be a dynamic process that will benefit from revisiting the topics in this chapter throughout your early career stages and beyond.

9 Considerations for First-Generation Students in Graduate School

Casey D. Calhoun , Donte L. Bernard , Luis D. Medina , Evelyn Behar , April R. Smith , Adam B. Miller , Angelica M. Diaz-Martinez , Angela Scarpa , Matthew K. Nock , & Mitchell J. Prinstein

Many graduate programs are sincerely invested in fostering diversity and increasing the number of students from under-represented backgrounds who will contribute to our discipline. But increasing representation is only one step needed to address inequities, disparities, and injustices. Helping all students thrive and have an equal opportunity to achieve their educational goals requires the creation of “safe spaces” in which demographic differences are understood, appreciated, and considered in larger educational systems.

A frequently overlooked identity characteristic that can significantly impact the graduate school experience is being a first-generation (first-gen) college student. First-gen status can present unique challenges that not only affect students’ performance and graduate training experiences, but also their identity development and relationships with loved ones. As such, first-gen status is an important aspect of students’ identity that warrants consideration and tailored support. In this chapter, we (a) define first-gen status; (b) note the common strengths of first-gen students; (c) elaborate on challenges first-gen students may face; and (d) share examples of how first-gen status may intersect with other aspects of one’s multicultural identity. Following this discussion, we provide specific recommendations for first-gen psychology graduate students navigating academia.

We would like to acknowledge up front that the discussion that follows is not intended to equate the experiences of first-gen status with the litany of challenges faced by students belonging to minority groups (e.g., students of racial/ethnic minority, international, or LGBTQ status). Rather, we are noting that first-gen students have unique experiences, compared to continuing-generation students, and these experiences may be particularly relevant and impactful for minority students.

1. A Note About the Authors

All authors were once first-gen, doctoral graduate students in clinical psychology programs, with graduation dates ranging from 1993 to 2019. Currently, the authors are of different professional statuses, ranging from postdoctoral fellow to tenured faculty. In this chapter, we present shared themes that characterized our, and others’, collective experiences as first-gen graduate students. Throughout, we provide personal anecdotes to illustrate how being of first-gen status impacted our personal and professional lives as graduate students.

1.1 First-Generation Status

First-gen students are typically defined as individuals whose parents or legal guardians did not receive a degree (associate, bachelor, master’s, doctoral) from an institute of higher education. That is, they are typically the first in their immediate family to attend college. According to the Center for First-Generation Student Success 2015–16 National Postsecondary Student Aid Study, approximately 59 percent of US undergraduates are first-gen college students. Approximately 76 percent of first-gen undergraduates decide not to pursue graduate education (Mullen et al., 2003), and those who do are more likely to drop out of graduate programs before obtaining their terminal degree (Kniffin, 2007; Nevill & Chen, 2007). Unfortunately, data on the representation of first-gen students in psychology graduate programs are lacking, and as such, little is known about experiences that may be unique to first-gen graduate students in these programs. Admittedly, the authors of this chapter all received a doctoral degree in psychology and may not adequately represent those students who did not matriculate. However, we provide our perspectives here to help elucidate factors that may contribute to attrition and resiliency among first-gen students in psychology graduate programs. Although the discussion that follows is centered on the experiences of first-gen doctoral students in psychology, much of the content may also be relevant for first-gen graduate students pursuing a master’s degree in psychology and/or specializing in an allied field.

1.2 The Strength To Be First

First-gen students offer a number of unique strengths within academia, at least anecdotally. They often have reputations for being resourceful, persistent, independent, and self-reliant students who have been able to figure out how to successfully gain admission to highly competitive graduate programs despite having few, if any, exemplars to guide their path. These students may also possess unique insight into the underserved patient populations that many psychologists hope to serve – able to communicate with, and relate to, those who come from a diverse range of backgrounds and experiences. Similarly, many first-gen students report a strong personal focus or connection to their work, with challenges faced by themselves and their families often motivating various aspects of their professional goals (research, clinical work, etc.). In many cases, these assumptions likely are true: many first-gen students have worked tirelessly to overcome a wide array of barriers and demonstrate grit, perspective, and commitment that helps them thrive in our field, and as such often possess expertise in factors that inform resiliency. Such considerations may hold particularly true for first-gen students with marginalized or under-represented multicultural identities, which present a litany of additional challenges (e.g., racial discrimination, acculturative stress) that may cause the journey to, and through, graduate school to be particularly stressful (described in greater detail below). The determination and perseverance needed to overcome these pervasive and stressful life experiences speak to the exceptional strength and resiliency of many first-gen students (Roksa et al., 2018), which may inform their preparation and approach to the rigorous training requirements of a psychology program.

1.3 The Challenges of Being First

Despite their strengths, first-gen students may have faced, and continue to face, substantial personal and logistical challenges by deciding to pursue a unique occupational path. These challenges can greatly influence first-gen students’ ability to achieve their academic goals (Seay et al., 2008).

What follows is a list, by no means exhaustive, of various challenges typically encountered by first-gen students in psychology.

1.3.1 A Lack of Role Models

First-gen students are disadvantaged from the time that they initially decide to pursue higher education (Cunningham & Brown, 2014). As they apply for and enroll in college, they are in immediate need of support outside of their immediate family, given that their family often cannot provide informed advice about a student’s many “new” experiences. Although there are academic counselors to assist when needed, these relationships often feel impersonal, short-lived, and are primarily focused on a specific area of need (e.g., 30-minute meeting to assist with course enrollment). For first-gen students, there is no singular form of support that can offer a comprehensive perspective on how to maximize success during and after college; this is true for continuing-generation students as well, but these students may require much less frequent extra-familial support. While academic mentors are highly valuable and desperately needed to “fill the gaps,” they often do not have the shared experiences to understand the nuances of first-gen students’ backgrounds and intersecting identities, and even if they do, they aren’t able to offer the level of support that an emotionally and financially invested parent may provide. Further compounding the issue, a lack of diversity in program leadership (i.e., mentors, supervisors, training directors) often results in first-gen students having limited access to faculty who can offer general advice and recommendations about navigating first-gen challenges, including those intertwined with other aspects of diversity (e.g., race, ethnicity, country of origin, language). Many of us learned that some grad school colleagues had parents who helped them find post-baccalaureate research assistant positions, reviewed grad school/internship/postdoc applications, proofread theses and dissertations (and later, even scientific articles), practice for internship/postdoc interviews, and so on. One of us had a labmate in graduate school whose father was a successful academic who not only co-authored a paper with his child, but also informally mentored his child in how to prepare manuscripts, conduct peer reviews, and seek external funding. Without easy-to-access familial supports who pursued higher education, first-gen students may become conditioned to rely on themselves to a greater degree, and in the end, feel more isolated in their academic pursuits.

1.3.2 Navigating Without a Map

Many first-gen students “don’t know what they don’t know” and are often behind in learning about various academic processes and opportunities. They frequently learn by trial and error, sometimes making unwise decisions or missing out on experiences that could boost their competitiveness for graduate programs or later career opportunities (Lunceford, 2011). For instance, one of us didn’t know about the undergraduate honors thesis until it was too late to apply for the program, and after entry into graduate school, it seemed that those who had completed an undergraduate honors thesis were better prepared to conduct research, particularly the first grad school milestone project (the master’s thesis). Moreover, some of us had continuing-generation peers that had entire mentorship teams developed well before they entered graduate school to help them identify funding mechanisms, research awards, and training opportunities to best prepare them for a career in psychology. First-gen students who “learn as they go” often have fewer such support systems to keep them on the right path, and this deficit could have both emotional and financial repercussions.

1.3.3 Financial Challenges

First-gen students most commonly come from low-income families that are not able to provide financial assistance (Gardner & Holley, 2011). As such, these students may accrue significant student debt to cover tuition and living expenses while completing their undergraduate education (several of us had loans in excess of $100K upon receiving our undergraduate degree). With these loans looming, first-gen students may be hesitant to pursue an advanced degree. Despite the availability of funding mechanisms that may cover tuition and provide a modest stipend for students in psychology graduate programs (e.g., research and teaching assistantships, NIH training awards), these funding opportunities are not guaranteed and can be quite competitive. Even if a student is able to obtain a stipend or funding award, extraneous costs can be difficult to cover and may require part-time employment or additional student loans. For instance, conference travel is a major expense for first-gen students that they must often pay for out of pocket. Attending and presenting at conferences has become a necessary component of success in the pursuit of an advanced degree in psychology, as it is one of the most accessible opportunities to gain visibility in the field during earlier stages of training. Restricted access to conferences reduces the likelihood that undergraduate, post-baccalaureate, and junior graduate students will have the “currency” needed to stand out among other well-qualified candidates as they continue to pursue opportunities and awards in psychology. Unfortunately, access to this form of currency can be especially restricted for low-income, first-gen students.

Low-income first-gen students often face challenging financial decisions that their families do not understand. From the start, some of us were strongly encouraged to forego a career in psychology and told instead to pursue a career that would generate a higher income, such as law, business, or medicine. Indeed, one of us has a father who said, “I’ve worked 7 days a week for 30 years so that I could send you to medical school. If you don’t want to become a surgeon, can’t you at least try to become a psychiatrist?!” Additionally, some families may rely on young family members to provide financial assistance, and hold on to the notion that one day their child will earn large sums of money that will alleviate their financial stress. In these situations, first-gen students may feel selfish for being a “professional student” who plans to remain in school well into their thirties, only to make a relatively modest income upon receiving their terminal degree in psychology. Choosing a career that aligns with one’s passion but produces a more modest salary can understandably lead families of origin to worry about their child’s long-term financial comfort, as well as their own. These concerns are, of course, amplified as the student accrues more and more student loan debt, which can make the decision to attend graduate school seem financially irresponsible.

1.3.4 Lack of Family Understanding of Chosen Schooling/Career Path

Because first-gen students’ families lack firsthand knowledge of the graduate school experience and the training goals specific to psychology, they often “don’t get it” and have inaccurate assumptions about what their family member does on a daily basis (Gardner & Holley, 2011). Parents might not understand the nature of what it takes to get an advanced degree, and assume that their child is simply taking a lot of classes for five (or more) years. Many of us have been asked “What do you do all day?” and when trying to explain how reading, writing, running analyses, teaching, and clinical work can be taxing and stressful, the idea of being exhausted from “thinking all day” doesn’t quite connect. And, we have all found it challenging to explain academic milestones such as comprehensive/qualifying exams, the dissertation process, and internship (“Wait, you have to move again? And you get paid how much as an intern?”). Following graduation, the pursuit of an academic job or postdoctoral position only extends the confusion that much longer (“You’re moving again?!?! When is this going to stop? Can’t you find a job closer to home and settle down?”).

For many of us, whether we are recent graduates or 20 years into our careers, our families still don’t quite understand what we do for a living. Often their perspectives are influenced by the stigma associated with mental illness, and our careers are described with comments like “My daughter treats crazy people for a living” or “He does research, whatever that means.” The complexities of clinical work are reduced to “So you just talk to people about their problems?”, and attempts to explain the difference in talk therapy and modern, empirically supported treatments is often met with a blank stare or resistance (“I would never talk to a stranger about my problems”). As researchers, the scientific process also is easily lost on our families (“Research? Like on Google?”), especially when attempting to articulate our study of abstract, intangible (and according to our relatives, potentially non-existent) psychological concepts. And, of course, we’ve all been angered by the familiar saying about teaching (“Those who can’t … ”). With these perspectives fueling conversations with family, first-gen psychology students naturally begin to question the value of their careers (“If my family doesn’t even understand or appreciate what I do, then is it really all that meaningful?”), leaving them feeling confused and unfulfilled. Such ambivalence may lead first-gen students to minimize or ultimately avoid speaking with their families about the significance and meaning of their research, clinical work, and teaching, despite these tasks being the main focus of their day-to-day life.

1.3.5 Family Values Conflicts

First-gen students often feel as if they have abandoned their families, and have become odd, unfamiliar, or no longer relatable (Gardner & Holley, 2011). In many cases, including several of our own, the decision to pursue graduate education is perceived by parents as a rejection of the family’s core values or identity, which creates distance between first-gen scholars and their loved ones. Some families perceive the pursuit of higher education or a scholarly career as unnecessary, “elitist,” or an abandonment of the family business or trade, and these sentiments may be expressed in various ways. Many first-gen students have had the experience of being shamed within their families, assumed to be “showing off” or “selling out” when sharing their accomplishments, accused of being “super liberal,” and being mocked with statements like “Is that what they’re teaching you in college?” when they make a mistake or express a viewpoint not held by others in the family. These criticisms are not necessarily offered out of cruelty, and are sometimes even delivered as a back-handed compliment. Sometimes this criticism stems from the pain and fear that family members feel when their child begins to become less recognizable. Regardless of intent, the comments can still cause first-gen students to feel less accepted and understood by their parents, siblings, or non-academic peers.

Some parents may initially experience great pride in their child’s success (“My child is going to be a doctor!”), but as their child grows increasingly independent, and acquires academic role models, they may feel less relevant and important to their child. These feelings may be amplified when their child moves far away (as often is required for academic careers) or discusses psychology-related topics that remain stigmatized back home. At the start, parents may encourage their children to “do better than they did” by going to college, but the implications of these good intentions for family relationships can later be surprising and difficult to bear. Over time, parents’ pride may dwindle and be replaced with concerns that their child’s chosen path is diverging from family values, which in turn can strain family relationships. Some of our parents feared that we would become “one of those ivory tower liberals” who would forget our humble beginnings. For others of us, the pursuit of individual success, although it was rooted in helping others, was perceived as an offense to our collectivistic cultural backgrounds. A few of us were raised in religious households, where our parents worried that studying psychology would promote secular views that would conflict with our religious faith. Additionally, almost all of our parents shared concerns about when we were going to “get married” and “start a family,” pointing out the impact of our career decisions on these family-oriented life goals (“If you wait any longer to have kids, I might not be around to see them graduate high school”). While these concerns can be helpful for reminding first-gen students to reflect on and balance their personal and career goals, they can also feel invalidating as first-gen students assess the value of the sacrifices they made to pursue higher education (“Wait, I thought getting a PhD was a good thing?”).

1.3.6 Identity Challenges

The challenge of fitting in with family and academic colleagues can create a perpetual identity conflict (e.g., Leyva, 2011). On the one hand, first-gen students could cling to their unique, decidedly non-academic roots, which can make them feel vulnerable or insecure when surrounded by their professional-background colleagues. On the other hand, first-gen students who assimilate to their professional environment may feel guilty for betraying their family of origin. Ironically, attempts to satisfy both identities simultaneously can leave individuals feeling unfulfilled in both realms, as though they are always sacrificing one part of their identity in some way. Those who are practicing clinicians may advise their clients to strive for alignment and reconciliation between their personal and professional values. Yet, many first-gen students (and some of the authors) may struggle to do this, as they find that having separate identities specific to each context is often reinforced with positive social feedback.

To further complicate the identity clarification process, first-gen students are among those who are particularly vulnerable to acute (and chronic) experiences of “impostor syndrome,” wondering whether they deserved admission to a graduate program, feeling compelled to explain why they did not have similar prior experiences to their peers, and being afraid to ask questions about things that “everyone else just knows” (Bernard & Stone-Sabali, this volume; Canning et al., 2020; Craddock et al., 2011). The impostor syndrome can amplify the internalization of negative feedback across all professional contexts (“They’ve finally realized that I’m not as competent of a clinician/researcher/instructor/etc. as I’ve pretended to be!”), leaving a first-gen student’s identity and self-esteem in constant limbo. First-gen students may be fraught with high levels of anxiety and stress when faced with seeing patients, giving presentations, writing research papers, and defending research projects, exercises commonly associated with pursuing an advanced degree in psychology. As such, they may work extremely hard on these tasks, set unreasonably high expectations for their performance, and put in excessive amounts of time and energy relative to their continuing-gen peers in efforts to “prove their worth” to themselves and others (Sakulku, 2011). While this may lead to success and praise in the short term, as the next impending project arises, the cycle repeats. This psychologically draining process can lead first-gen students to experience academic burnout as this approach to overcoming internalized insecurities may not be sustainable over the course of their graduate school tenure.

1.3.7 Intersecting Multicultural Identities

The challenges of pursuing a graduate degree may be especially amplified for first-gen students who come from historically under-represented racial/ethnic backgrounds or who possess other marginalized multicultural identities (e.g., religious minority backgrounds, LGBTQ). Given that the range of intersecting multicultural identities is limitless, attempting to capture them all far exceeds the scope of this chapter. Instead, we focus on two multicultural identities that most commonly add to the challenges faced by first-gen students.

One prominent challenge comes from being a first-gen student who is also a member of a historically under-represented racial or ethnic group (Howard, 2017; Leyva, 2011). Indeed, the journey of obtaining an advanced degree in psychology in itself represents a stressful period denoted by major life transitions, increasing scholarly independence, and struggles to maintain a healthy work/life balance. However, for first-gen students who are one of the only students on campus of a particular race, these stressors may be compounded by feelings of isolation and marginalization (Stone et al., 2018). Unfortunately, the relevance of microaggressions and other negative interactions pertaining to one’s race or ethnicity may serve to instantly invalidate the years of hard work and effort that students of color have put in to attain success. For instance, at least one of us who identifies as a person of color can recall being told as a graduate student, “You only got this award because you are Black” when sharing with a professor news about receiving a competitive fellowship. These invalidating messages may directly refute affirming messages provided by family and friends that led many of us to pursue advanced degrees in the first place. Such experiences may be particularly taxing for first-gen students who may be attending institutions with no formal programming or support systems in place for students of color to feel supported and validated.

Another challenge in particular lies in the experience of first-gen students who come from immigrant families in which the student’s parents and other role models do not speak English and/or have limited understanding of the US educational system. This presents a unique set of challenges over the course of the student’s academic life. Beginning in early childhood, the student may not have had the luxury of having parents who could help with homework assignments, advocate for their child in the school system, or help their child navigate the complexities of academic transitions. When applying to college, and later to doctoral programs, these students did not have the advantage of parents who could proofread personal statements, assist with demystifying the process of applying for financial aid, or help with the practicalities of transitioning to university life. In addition, in some immigrant families, there may be an overreliance on children and/or other family members due to a limited proficiency in the English language, which could continue even as the child pursues higher education.

1.4 Program Support and Mentorship

We all agree that graduate programs and individual mentors can increase the likelihood of a first-gen student’s success. Some first-gen students have been fortunate to have mentors who were extraordinarily sensitive to some of the above challenges and who took them “under their wings,” providing mentorship that went above and beyond what is typically expected. Others may not have had such good fortune, but have strived to provide a higher level of mentorship to their own first-gen students. Doctoral programs can strive to institute practices to help first-gen students navigate challenges they may face throughout their graduate training. In the next section, we provide specific pieces of advice to first-gen students to avoid some of the challenges discussed above.

1.4.1 Program Support

First-gen students are likely to seek out and feel supported by programs that have relevant support mechanisms in place. To start, determine if your university has a first-gen organization, and if so, reach out to see if they provide resources and support for first-gen graduate students (many focus primarily on undergraduate students, but some of the resources they provide could benefit graduate students as well). Encourage your graduate program to host or identify seminars on funding opportunities, financial planning (e.g., student loans in the long term), and professional development could be particularly helpful for reducing financial stress among first-gen students. A peer mentorship program led by more senior students could help first-gen students boost their proficiencies in academic writing, statistics, applying for awards/internship, submitting conference proposals, conducting peer reviews, and more. Peer mentorship may be especially effective for helping first-gen students set realistic expectations (through peer comparison), which could alleviate stress caused by the impostor syndrome. Self-care seminars hosted by fellow students could help first-gen students establish a healthy work–life balance. Establishing a student resource library funded by the program could also reduce the need for first-gen students to locate and purchase training resources (e.g., costly statistics/therapy manuals). To reduce the financial burden of conference travel, programs may consider setting up a travel fund (funded by donations from alumni, other donors, or clinic proceeds) to prevent first-gen students from incurring any upfront out-of-pocket costs from conference travel; programs could also advocate for such funds to be offered by the department, college, or university. If your program forbids students from seeking outside employment, you may ask them to revisit this policy, as first-gen students may rely on additional funding to make ends meet, or be responsible for providing money to their families of origin.

Universities and training programs that offer a variety of supportive mechanisms for first-gen students also alleviate burden on mentors, who may at times feel overwhelmed by the different layers of support a first-gen student may need. Being able to refer first-gen students to other available resources (e.g., resource library, peer consultation, institutional organizations) can help ensure that mentors are able to provide more targeted support that best capitalizes on their expertise. If your program does not have a diversity committee, advocate for one. Supporting and training increasingly diverse students, and creating an accepting culture in a program/department, requires a team-based approach, especially given that the time dedicated to these efforts is often based on volunteerism. Diversity committees can alleviate some of the burden on individual mentors to seek resources relevant to first-gen students’ needs. Pushing for increased diversity among the faculty will likely increase awareness of first-gen training needs and potential support mechanisms. However, it is important that program faculty share the responsibility of supporting first-gen students and do not overburden under-represented faculty with this task. For instance, instead of tasking a faculty member of color with leading a seminar on a topic relevant to first-gen students, programs might choose to create regularly scheduled panels of faculty who can share advice and guidance to these trainees.

1.4.2 First-Gen Students and the Mentor–Mentee Relationship

Given the power differential in the mentor–mentee relationship, it can sometimes be difficult for students to openly share their first-gen status. Students may fear that doing so will lead mentors to see them as less capable or qualified than other students. However, sharing your first-gen status and discussing relevant personal growth areas could lead to collaboratively developed support efforts that will increase the chances of achieving your goals and having a rewarding graduate school experience. Personal disclosures of this nature do not necessarily need to happen right away; it can take time to build trust with a mentor and feel safe sharing personal information. If your direct mentor is not able to support you in the ways that you need, seek supplemental mentorship. Many programs have a diversity training committee that may be able to offer additional guidance and mentorship.

Additional tips for students are provided below.

2. Tips for Dealing with Financial Challenges

• Be proactive in seeking funding opportunities. In many programs, grad school costs can often be deferred or mitigated through TA-/RA-ships and other fellowships. You may also explore national and federal funding mechanisms. For instance, female-identified students can qualify for very low interest loans (www.peointernational.org/about-peo-educational-loan-fund-elf) and/or apply for a $15,000 dissertation award (www.peointernational.org/scholar) through the Philanthropic Education Organization. In addition, the American Psychological Association, National Institutes of Health, and numerous other organizations provide funding opportunities to support students at all levels of training.

• Apply for travel awards to buffer travel costs for conference attendance. These awards may exist at your home institution and through the organization hosting the conference; for some conferences, students can receive registration and travel subsidies for volunteering. If you are unable to obtain (or are ineligible for) external travel awards, ask your mentor if any laboratory or departmental funds could pay for conference expenses. Determine if there are ways for larger expenses (air/hotel/registration) to be paid directly by your department’s grant manager or the entity funding a travel award, so that you do not have to pay out-of-pocket and wait for reimbursement.

• If you are unable to travel home to see family for the holidays, explore alternative ways to make holidays away from home feel less lonely. You might organize program holiday events, suggest community holiday events in the area, or simply talk to other students about the difficulties of being away from family during these times. Many college campuses coordinate (e.g., through their International Student Affairs Office) social events for students, including for those unable to travel for the holidays.

3. Tips for Increasing Professional Familiarity and Engagement

• Set professional growth goals and ask for support you need in achieving these goals. Student success programs on campus and elsewhere (e.g., writing center, study tip training workshops) can provide low-pressure opportunities to practice your writing and research skills (e.g., journal clubs). Discuss different options for support with your mentor, and be specific in telling them how they could be most helpful (e.g., “it would be helpful if you could walk me through the process of creating a narrative outline for the introduction section of a paper”). It can be particularly helpful to seek support as you apply for various awards or positions (e.g., internship), as having opportunities to receive feedback on application materials and engage in mock interviews can increase the likelihood of a successful outcome.

• Seek out opportunities to expand your professional awareness and knowledge. Attend conferences and professional meetings when possible, and ask others how to make the most of your time at these events. If you are hoping to learn more about writing empirical manuscripts, ask your mentor if you could assist them in reviewing manuscripts for journals that relate to your interests.

• Ask your mentor to connect you with important others in the field. For example, at an annual conference, your mentor could reach out to a colleague to introduce you as a potential future intern or postdoc. Mentors could also support you in asking a “big name” in the field to serve on your thesis committee.

4. Tips for Managing Challenging Issues of Identity

• Seek support (e.g., from the program, mentors, local therapists, your family) to balance competing personal and professional demands. Admit when competing demands are difficult to manage and ask for help when needed. There may be options, solutions, or ways of thinking about a situation differently that you have not yet considered!

• Acknowledge the impostor syndrome (e.g., unobtainable standards, unsustainable work habits, internalizations of self-doubt), and work to develop healthy work habits that will help daunting milestones (e.g., defending theses, writing dissertations) become more manageable. Establish reasonable timelines and expectations for research tasks (e.g., writing, analyses). Challenge disparaging cognitions (e.g., “I’m not qualified to help”) that may arise when you begin to see patients in a clinical capacity. Set appropriate expectations that normalize the difficulty and nuance of being a clinician to buffer feelings of self-doubt when faced with challenging sessions, slow treatment progress, and/or other unforeseen circumstances (e.g., conducting a first risk assessment). Other students are likely struggling with imposter syndrome as well; talk with them to support, and learn from, one another.

• Consider and disclose competing personal and professional values when considering career trajectory and goals. First-gen students’ overarching values may be unique to their families of origin (e.g., more collectivistic than individualistic, more in need of a balance between their family’s needs and their own), which may influence the type and geographic location of positions they pursue. Identify other mentors who may help with various aspects of your intersecting identities while building your personal academic community.

• You may consider introducing your mentor to your family if the opportunity presents itself. This could help to increase family emotional support, demystify the graduate school process for the family, and help you integrate these two facets of your life.

• If you are a first-gen student of color, you may benefit from attending national conferences designed to promote the development of underrepresented groups in psychological science (e.g., Black Graduate Conference in Psychology) and become a member of affinity groups associated with national organizations (e.g., Latinx Caucus of the Society of Research on Child Development).

5. Closing Notes

At long last, the field of psychology has begun to seriously consider a multicultural framework, recognizing the biases that exist in our professional gateways, traditions, and even in the content of our scientific and clinical work. Far more work must be done to acknowledge potential barriers to professional advancement of racial, ethnic, sexual, and gender minorities. In recent years, our field also has recognized blind spots with regard to religious and political diversity within our psychology community. We believe these remain high-priority areas for attention as our field increasingly values diversity and commits significant resources to the future of our discipline. As reflected in this chapter, first-gen status is an identity characteristic that often intersects with more visible, and commonly discussed, forms of diversity. By acknowledging first-gen status as an important factor contributing to the graduate student experience, we can improve upon our collective efforts to support the increasingly diverse cohorts of students entering graduate programs in psychology.

10 Developing and Practicing Ethics

Kenneth S. Pope , Nayeli Y. Chavez-Dueñas , & Hector Y. Adames

1. Developing and Practicing Ethics

We bring our personal ethics to graduate school and start to create our professional ethics. We face important questions: Are ethics central to who we are and what we do? Do our professional ethics depart from the values that we lived by before graduate school? How do we respond when the choice we view as most ethical means risking or sacrificing a golden opportunity, money, a valued relationship, our job, or reputation? What do we do when ethical decision-making leads us into overwhelming complexity, gray areas, and conflicting values? How do we do no harm when clients’ traditional cultural values conflict with the profession’s ethical values?

Graduate school often presents us with intriguing situations involving the ethics of research and publication, faculty–student interactions, psychological assessment and intervention, and other aspects of what we do as psychologists. Consider the following scenarios.

• As a research assistant for one of the department’s most respected and influential professors, you compute the inferential statistics on a large data set. The findings are not statistically significant and fail to support the professor’s new theory. The professor then throws out the data from 20 percent of the participants. When you rerun the stats, the test results become significant and support the theory. You receive your first authorship credit (congratulations!) when the results are published in a prestigious scientific journal and you’re listed as coauthor. The article makes no mention of the initial tests or excluded participants.

• For the past 10 months, you have been working with an undocumented artist who immigrated to the United States two years ago. Your client was the primary caregiver for their mother, an 80-year-old woman who suffered from dementia and recently passed away. Prior to your next scheduled session, your client sends you an email thanking you for helping them cope with their mother’s illness. They shared that your support has been invaluable and you have become their family in this country where they feel so lonely. On their next appointment the client brings you a gift, a stunning painting they created specifically for you and your office. Because local galleries and art houses display and sell this person’s art, you know that this gift is worth thousands of dollars. You also know that in the person’s culture, gifts have deep meaning and that rejecting a gift is a deep insult. You consider the power dynamic and feel torn between the client’s cultural way of expressing gratitude while being mindful of not exploiting the relationship by accepting a lucrative gift. You also reflect on ways in which accepting a gift of such value might affect the therapy.

• Your dissertation is on how young children think about their own creativity. The contract and form for informed consent – which you sign along with your supervisor and a representative of the university prior to the parents signing – assures each parent that in exchange for their consent, you, the supervisor, and the university attest that (a) your contact with the child will be limited to a single hour session, and (b) the session will be absolutely confidential and that the names and any other personally identifying information will never be shared with anyone else. In each session, the child makes up a story during the first half-hour, then you ask questions about how they thought up the theme, characters, plot, and details. One girl, whose father is a famous attorney who has won multimillion dollar judgments in both defamation suits and contract law cases, makes up a story about how a little girl is terrified of her father, an attorney, because he comes into her room almost every night and has sex with her. He has told her that if she ever tells anyone their secret, he will kill her dog and that no one would believe her anyway. When you ask her how she thought up the story about the little girl, your research participant says, “Well, she’s almost exactly like me in a lot of ways.” When you ask her what she means, she says she is afraid to talk anymore and remains silent until the hour is up.

• You and your best friend are talking about how much you’re both looking forward to graduating next spring. Your friend confides: “I had no idea how I’d ever get my dissertation done but luckily I had enough money to hire a consultant to design the study and analyze the data. And I was so relieved to find a good professional author who could write it up for me.”

What do you consider the most ethical response to each situation? If the scenarios involve conflicting values, responsibilities, or loyalties, how do you sort through the conflicts and decide what to do? What are the costs, risks, and possible outcomes of the various approaches you can imagine to each situation? How we work our way through such complex situations not only reflects but also actively shapes our professional ethics and character.

Developing ethics is, for most, a career-long process. Ethical development that stops at graduate school can be a little like the professor relying on the same yellowing lecture notes, PowerPoint slides, and stale jokes decade after decade, never bothering to update, rethink, or renew. The rest of this chapter is organized into two parts. The first discusses seven steps that seem key to developing professional ethics, including:

• Start with what we actually do.

• Stay awake, distrust quick answers, and keep questioning.

• Know the ethics codes – their similarities and differences – but don’t let them replace critical thinking, professional judgment, and taking personal responsibility.

• Know the legal standards, but don’t let them replace critical thinking, professional judgment, and taking personal responsibility.

• Prevent needless mistakes by actively and proactively addressing our weaknesses, limitations, and blind spots, which we all, beginner and seasoned psychologist alike, have and fall prey to from time to time.

• When looking for ethical missteps, start with ourselves. Question what seems beyond questioning.

The second part looks at 16 of the most common ethical fallacies that help us justify unethical behavior.

2. Developing Professional Ethics

Taking the following steps can help develop professional ethics that are informed, useful, and practical. Some of the material in this section is adapted from Pope (2010) and Pope et al., (2021).

2.1 Start with What We Actually Do

Professional ethics are meaningless unless they fit what we actually do. We’re not in a good position to consider the ethical implications of our acts unless we clearly understand what we do as psychologists. Teaching, research, supervision, mentoring, assessment, consultation, and intervention are abstractions until we understand what they mean in our day-to-day lives. This is not always easy. In 1947, APA president Carl Rogers appointed David Shakow to chair a committee on defining and teaching psychotherapy. Shakow’s report resulted in the influential Boulder Conference and the “Boulder Model” of training (i.e., the scientist–practitioner model) of clinical psychology. On August 28, 1949, the recorder for the Boulder task force attempting to define therapy and establish criteria for adequate training wrote the following summary: “We have left therapy as an undefined technique which is applied to unspecified problems with a non-predictable outcome. For this technique we recommend rigorous training.”

It is important to ask ourselves: Do our own professional ethics fit what we actually do as psychologists? Do they take account of the pressures, conflicting needs, ambiguities, subtleties, gray areas, and other realities we – and our students, supervisees, research participants, therapy clients, and others – face? The ethics codes, standards, and guidelines tend to be abstract so that they can apply to a variety of extremely diverse situations, fact patterns, and contexts. They lack the almost infinite variety of details involved when two or more unique people, each with their own cultural contexts and assumptions, each changing over time, meet in a relationship that constantly evolves.

Life in the real world tends to be messy, with gray areas, contradictions, blurrings, unknowns, overlaps, complexities, surprises, and rough edges that don’t match up with the clarity, clean corners, and smooth edges we’ve come across in some courses, books, and codes. For example, professors and therapists, trained and accustomed to working in person with their students, and clients suddenly found themselves cut off from in-person meetings when the novel coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic hit, and were forced to meet with students and clients using Zoom and other videotelephony and online chat service apps. Do our professional ethics give us reliable guidance or other forms of help when the specifics of a situation throw us into confusion and the texts, codes, authorities, support, and traditions we’ve drawn on fail us?

2.2 Stay Awake, Distrust Quick Answers, and Keep Questioning

However fun and fulfilling psychology can be at times, there are other times when it can be daunting, draining, and discouraging. Conflicts with administrators, supervisors, endless paperwork, urgent needs that go unmet, meetings that make the Ice Age seem like the blink of an eye, bureaucratic barriers, worry about making ends meet, shortages of resources and support, concerns about the well-being of clients and colleagues, sheer exhaustion, and so much else can overwhelm us, drain us dry, dull our awareness, and lull us into ethical sleep. To the extent that what we do as psychologists is meaningful and important, our work requires us to remain actively alert, mindful, inquisitive, and aware of the implications of what we are choosing to do and not do.

When we’re tired, running late, distracted, or burnt out, we can grow careless or desperate, grabbing the first answer that occurs to us, that we hear from a consultant, or that we read in a book. However, a mindful approach to ethics recognizes that ethical alertness is a continuous, active process that involves constant questioning, seeking new information and perspectives, and avoiding premature closure.

2.3 Know the Ethics Codes: Their Similarities and Differences – But Don’t Let Them Replace Critical Thinking, Professional Judgment, and Taking Personal Responsibility

Understanding relevant codes of ethics is a key step in developing and practicing ethics, but codes cannot replace a thoughtful, informed, creative approach to meeting the ethical challenges of specific situations. Codes can expand and sharpen our awareness, inform the ways we think through a problem, and provide helpful guidance. Codes can not serve as a substitute for thinking, provide an excuse to duck a difficult decision, or remove our personal responsibility for our ethical choices. Developing and practicing ethics never means following codes in a reflexive, thoughtless manner or using codes as a shield against personal responsibility. Knowing how ethics codes evolved, the values they embody, the forms they take, and how they resemble and differ from each other can strengthen our ethical development and practice. The American Psychological Association’s (APA) and the Canadian Psychological Association’s (CPA) ethics code provide examples.

Founded in 1892, APA saw no need for an ethics code for its first 60 years of existence. APA created its first Committee on Scientific and Professional Ethics (CSPE) in 1938. Without a written code, the committee tried to come up with informal approaches that relied on persuasion to address complaints. Beginning in 1939, the committee spent 8 years considering whether a written code would be helpful. They decided that a written code would be useful in part because an “unwritten code is tenuous, elusive, and unsatisfactory” (APA, 1952). APA designated Edward Tolman to chair a Committee on Ethical Standards that would develop an ethics code.

The decision sparked controversy. Some exceptionally prominent members argued that a written code would be a terrible mistake. Calvin Hall, for example, believed that even the best possible code would favor the crooked psychologist. An unethical psychologist would study a written code “to see how much he can get away with … and since any code is bound to be filled with ambiguities and omissions, he can rationalize his unethical conduct” (Hall, 1952, p. 430).

CPSE came up with a revolutionary way to develop a code. The method broke sharply with the traditional methods that had been used by over 500 professional and business associations (Hobbs, 1948). The problem with the traditional methods, according to CPSE, was that they resorted to what Hobbs termed the “armchair approach” (p. 82) in which a committee of those presumably most qualified – or at least most well connected – would consider the available codes, critical issues, and scholarly literature; then issue general calls for case studies, comments, suggestions, and other input. The calls would appear in various publications, but would not involve sending a call to every individual member of the organization.

Instead of the old methods of general calls for input, CPSE recommended that developing the ethics code actively put to use the methods of psychological science, specifically empirical survey research. APA would reach out to each member individually, sending each a letter that would ask about the psychologist’s personal experiences. This empirically informed method of contacting members individually could establish a direct and explicit connection between the committee and each member that would be more effective than running a general announcement in some APA publications that members might or might not happen to see and would not be personally addressed to the individual. It conveyed how much the committee valued each individual member’s views and experiences and the care and seriousness of the committee’s attempt to actively draw input from the full diversity of all members.

The revolutionary method held other advantages as well. Contacting every member individually and asking for personal experience would give all members, rather than just a relative few, a personal stake in the code. Their views and experiences would make up the primary data from which the code emerged, would serve as a firm foundation, reflecting the association’s full diversity, and would actively shape the code by which they would have to live. Nicholas Hobbs described this method of contacting each member as one firmly rooted in the scientific principles and able to produce “a code of ethics truly indigenous to psychology, a code that could be lived” (Hobbs, 1948).

In 1948, every APA member received a letter asking that the psychologist share “experiences in solving ethical problems by describing the specific circumstances in which someone made a decision that was ethically critical” (APA, 1949). The critical incidents led to a draft code, published in American Psychologist (APA Committee, 1951a, 1951b, 1951c), consisting of six sections:

• Ethical standards and public responsibility

• Ethical standards in professional relationships

• Ethical standards in client relationships

• Ethical standards in research

• Ethical standards in writing and publishing

• Ethical standards in teaching

After extensive discussion and revision, the first APA ethics code was adopted in 1952 and published in 1953. New versions of the code appeared in 1959, 1963, 1968, 1977, 1979, 1981, 1990, 1992, 2002, and 2010. The current version includes:

• Introduction

• Preamble

• Five general principles

• Ethical standards

The preamble and general principles, which include beneficence and nonmaleficence, fidelity and responsibility, integrity, justice, and respect for people’s rights and dignity, are aspirational goals representing psychology’s ethical ideals. The specific ethical standards are enforceable.

The code was always to be revised by mailing a survey form to each APA member (Holtzman, 1960, p. 247). Maintaining this unique empirical approach would preserve the stake that all members had in a code, reflect the experiences and values of the full diversity of APA members, and cultivate loyalty to the code. It reflected beliefs about empowerment, management style, group process, and allegiance (e.g., Golann, 1969; Hobbs, 1948; Holtzman, 1960).

APA’s unique approach was believed (a) to empower all members by involving them meaningfully and individually (through the mailed survey) from the start, (b) benefit from better group or organizational dynamics by creating a psychological sense of community among all members, and (c) produce a better revision. The code and its revisions would be “based upon the day-to-day decisions made by psychologists in the practice of their profession, rather than prescribed by a committee” (Golann, 1969, p. 454). Surveying all members individually was considered essential to maintain an ethics code “close enough to the contemporary scene to win the genuine acceptance of the majority who are most directly affected by its principles” (Holtzman, 1960, p. 250). However, no APA ethics code revision to date has been based on critical incident survey forms mailed individually to all APA members.

Formed in 1939, the CPA functioned for two decades without a written ethics code. Still representing only a small number of psychologists living in diverse parts of a large country, CPA incorporated in 1950 and recognized the need for an explicit code. Deciding that it was unrealistic at that point to bring together a sufficient number of psychologists often enough to carefully think through how a code should be created and then develop the code, CPA decided “to adopt the 1959 … APA code for a 3-year trial. This was followed by adoptions (with minor wording changes) of the 1963 and 1977 APA revised codes” (Sinclair & Pettifor, 2001). Dissatisfaction with the APA code grew, and when APA released the 1977 revision, Canadian disagreements with the APA approach to ethics reached the stage of irreconcilable differences (Sinclair et al., 1996). Canadian psychologists viewed the APA ethics code as running “the risk of changing the nature of the professional relationship from a primarily fiduciary contract to a commercial one” (Sinclair et al., 1996).

Sinclair (1998) reported that CPA set four criteria for its first indigenous code:

• Conceptual coherence, which would make it better suited to use in education.

• Inclusiveness, so that it would embrace more new areas of psychological practice.

• Explicitness, so that it would provide clearer guidelines for what to do when two or more ethical values were in conflict.

• Usefulness, so that it would include helpful rules for the ethical decision-making process.

Taking an empirical approach, CPA sent 37 ethical dilemmas to its members, inviting them to describe not only what they would do when confronting the dilemmas but also what decision-making steps they followed (Truscott & Crook, 2004). Content analysis revealed that the Canadian psychologists had relied on four basic values, which became the foundation of the new code (Canadian Psychological Association, 1986):

• Respect for the dignity of persons

• Responsible caring

• Integrity in relationships

• Responsibility to society

To meet the four criteria it had defined for the code, CPA created a code that represented “a radical departure from previous codes of ethics in both its underlying philosophy and structure” (Sinclair, 2011, p. 152). Aspects of the new code included:

First, an overriding theme … was the concept of a discipline or profession having a “contract with society,” in which members of the psychology community strive for excellence in ethical behaviour, not just meeting minimal standards or rules. Second, rather than containing primarily a list of rules to be followed, the Code emphasised the importance of ethical decision making …. Several aids to ethical decision making were provided in the Preamble, including a model for ethical decision making, ordering the ethical principles according to the weight each generally should be given when they conflict, differential weighting of the ethical principles to be considered, and a role for personal conscience. Third, all ethical standards, which included both minimum and aspirational standards, were organized around four ethical principles: Respect for the Dignity of Persons, Responsible Caring, Integrity in Relationships, and Responsibility to Society.

(Sinclair, 2011, pp. 152–153)

The original CPA code (CPA, 1986) was “welcomed both within Canada and beyond its borders” (Pettifor & Sinclair, 2011). Pettifor (2011) notes that the current CPA code receives “continuing international attention and acclaim” (p. 230). The CPA model has influenced a wide variety of subsequent codes (Pope, 2011). For example, Seymour (2011) wrote: “Undoubtedly the most powerful influence on the development of our Code of Ethics for New Zealand Psychologists working in Aotearoa/New Zealand (2002) was the 1991 Canadian Code of Ethics for Psychologists. The working party that developed our new code was directed to produce a code that was modeled on the 1991 Canadian Code of Ethics for Psychologists” (p. 232). Similarly, Hernandez-Guzman (2011) wrote that the Mexican Psychological Society’s ethics code, the Codigo Etico del Psicologo, “is based on the experiences and problems faced by Mexican psychologists during their professional practice, with the Canadian Code of Ethics for Psychologists as the main guideline. Today, many universities and professional associations, not only in Mexico but in several Latin American countries, have adopted the Codigo Etico del Psicologo as their main decision-making reference concerning ethical issues” (p. 232).

Pettifor (2011) summarized some of the CPA ethics code’s most valued contributions:

First, the most valued contribution of the Canadian Code appears to be the formulation of an explicit moral framework or foundation of ethical principles that are defined separately but linked to specific conduct and behaviours. The second theme seems to be the delineation in the Code of a process for value-based decision-making in contrast to an emphasis on complying only with rules about what psychologists must or must not do. It is recognised that rules cannot cover all possible situations, and especially cannot be used to negotiate solutions to dilemmas. The third valued contribution is the emphasis in the Code on positive aspirations rather than on the bottom line for acceptable behaviour. Fourth is the conceptual clarity, user-friendly language, and practical approach, which are thought to enhance the effectiveness of teaching, supervising, and learning ethics and ethical decision-making.

(pp. 230–231)

Finally, members representing the four Ethnic Minority Psychological Associations (EMPAs) in the United States including the Asian American Psychological Association (AAPA), Association of Black Psychologists (ABPsi), the National Latinx Psychological Association (NLPA), and the Society of Indian Psychologists (SIP) met with the APA Ethics Committee at the 2011 annual APA convention. During this meeting the EMPAs and APA agreed to review whether the ethics code addresses issues of culture adequately, appropriately, and knowledgably. Specifically, the EMPAs shared their thoughts on how the ethical code both “assists or hinders their work as Psychologists of Color” with the goal of broadening knowledge on “how culture intersects with ethical dilemmas” (APA, 2012, para. 15). Several EMPAs have developed and published their own set of ethical commentaries (see SIP, 2014), guidelines (see NLPA, 2018), or standards (see ABPsi, n.d.). More recently, scholars and practitioners have written about the core ethical principle of “justice” in psychology (Hailes et al., 2021, p. 1; see also Leong et al., 2017; Pope et al., 2021; Varghese et al., 2019; Walsh, 2015). They offered seven guidelines for social justice ethics including “(1) reflecting critically on relational power dynamics; (2) mitigating relational power dynamics; (3) focusing on empowerment and strengths-based approaches; (4) focusing energy and resources on the priorities of marginalized communities; (5) contributing time, funding, and effort to preventive work; (6) engaging with social systems; and (7) raising awareness about system impacts on individual and community well-being” (Hailes et al., 2021, p. 1).

2.4 Know the Legal Standards, But Don’t Let Them Replace Critical Thinking, Professional Judgment, and Taking Personal Responsibility

A complex array of constantly evolving legislation, case law, administrative law, and other legal standards governs our work as psychologists. These standards change from time to time and from jurisdiction to jurisdiction. A psychologist may be required to do something (e.g., breach confidentiality) under certain conditions in one state or province, be forbidden to do it in another, and be allowed but not required to do it in a third. Keeping up with the legal standards in the relevant jurisdiction is essential, but as with an ethics code’s standards, the law should inform but not replace professional judgment.

Focusing too exclusively on legal standards can blind us to ethical issues, sometimes leading us to mistake what is legal for what is ethical. All too often public figures holding positions of trust resort, when caught doing something ethically wrong, to claim “I broke no law”; “While some may disagree with what I did, all my acts were clearly legal”; or “All of my acts were consistent with controlling legal authority.”

2.5 Actively Address Fallibility to Prevent Problems

It is a cliché but true: None of us is perfect. Each of us makes mistakes, has limitations, gets things wrong sometimes. All of us have vulnerabilities, shortcomings, and blind spots. The major differences are not so much between those with many imperfections and those with few (or at least those who think they have only a few), but between those who freely acknowledge – to themselves and others – how their own flaws and weaknesses affect their work and those who look down on others as inferior versions of themselves.

It’s easy to make pro-forma admissions of “I might be wrong, but … ” and remain passive in the face of what we know or suspect are the barriers between us and our best work. It is something else entirely to question ourselves constantly, actively; to ask “What if I’m wrong about this?”; “Are there facts, fallacies, contexts, unintended consequences, or perspectives I’m overlooking?”; “Is there a more creative, positive, effective, comprehensive way to address this ethical challenge?” This approach can prevent countless problems.

2.6 When Looking for Ethical Missteps, Start with Ourselves

It is so easy to spot the ethical blunders of others. Even while reading this sentence, we might find our minds drifting to times we spotted – or thought we spotted – a colleague’s ethical carelessness, questionable behavior, or intentional wrongdoing. We miss a wildly waving red flag if we fail to recognize something amiss when our critical gaze remains exclusively outward. We need to spend at least as much time and energy questioning our own behavior as we question what others do.

2.7 Question What Seems Beyond Questioning

All of us have certain tightly held beliefs. We throw away chances to learn, grow, and discover if we don’t loosen our grip on these beliefs enough to take a fresh look, engage in critical thinking, and pursue creative questioning. It is relatively easy to explore areas of uncertainty, minor concern, or little consequence. The challenge is to question our most cherished and “unquestionable” assumptions, those beliefs that are most central, those principles that form the core of our ethics. Following this open questioning can lead us into areas that are confusing, (temporarily) disorienting, and sometimes frightening. It can take us through ideas that are politically incorrect or what tends to be more uncomfortable for many of us – “psychologically incorrect” (Pope et al., 2006). It can also show us the path toward more ethical behavior.

2.8 Avoiding Ethical Fallacies

However well-developed our individual professional ethics, we may face times when the temptation is just too great and we need to justify behaving unethically. The following rationalizations – adapted from those originally suggested by Pope et al. (2006) and by Pope et al., (2021) – can make even hurtful and reprehensible behaviors seem ethical or at least trivial. All of us, at one time or another, have likely endorsed at least some of them. If an excuse seems absurd, it is likely that we have not yet needed it desperately. At some future moment of great stress or temptation, those absurdities may seem plausible if not downright self-evident.

1. 1. It’s not unethical as long as a departmental chair, administrative supervisor, or managed care administrator required or suggested it.

2. 2. It’s not unethical as long as the professional or educational association you belong to allows it.

3. 3. It’s not unethical if you don’t know of any ethics code, legislation, case law, or professional standard that specifically prohibits it. Two basic fallacies are at work here: specific ignorance and specific literalization. “Specific ignorance” means that if you don’t know about, for example, a prohibition against making a custody recommendation without actually meeting with the people involved, then the prohibition doesn’t really exist in a way that applies to you. As long as you weren’t aware of certain ethical standards in advance, then you cannot be considered ethically accountable for your actions. The fallacy of “specific literalization” allows you declare any act that is not specifically mentioned in the formal standards to be ethical. Interestingly, this rule can be called into play even when the psychologist knows in advance about a specific prohibition, if the psychologist also invokes the rule known as “insufficient qualification.” Consider, for example, a psychologist who knows that there is an ethical standard prohibiting sexual involvement with a therapy client. The psychologist can call attention to the fact that the sex occurred outside of the consulting room and that the standards made no mention of sex occurring outside the consulting room, or that the psychologist’s theoretical orientation is cognitive-behavioral, psychoanalytic, or humanistic, and that the standards do not explicitly mention and therefore presumably are not relevant for his or her specific theoretical orientation.

4. 4. It’s not unethical if you know at least three other psychologists who have done the same thing. After all, if there were anything wrong with it, do you really think others would be doing it so openly that you would have heard about it?

5. 5. It’s not unethical if none of your students, research participants, supervisees, or therapy clients has ever complained about it. If one or more did complain about it, it is crucial to determine whether they constitute a large representative sample of those you encounter in your work, or are only a few atypical, statistically insignificant outliers.

6. 6. It’s not unethical if a student, research participant, supervisee, or therapy client wanted you to do it.

7. 7. It’s not unethical as long as the student’s/research participant’s/supervisee’s/therapy client’s condition made them so awful to be around that their behavior evoked (that is to say: caused) whatever it was you did, and they must own responsibility for it. Which is not, of course, an admission that you actually did something.

8. 8. It’s not unethical if you have a disorder or condition (psychological, medical, or just being tired and cranky) and that disorder or condition can be made to assume responsibility for your choices and behavior.

9. 9. It’s not unethical if you’re skilled at using the passive voice and a “looking forward rather than wallowing in the past” approach. If someone discovers that our CV proclaims degrees we never actually earned, honors we never actually received, and accomplishments that were not ours, we need only shrug non-defensively, note that apparently mistakes were made and that it is time to move on.

10. 10. It’s not unethical if you’re basically a good person and have upheld most of the other ethical standards. This “majority rule” gives you time off (from ethics) for good behavior. This means that all of us can safely ignore a few of the ethical standards as long as we scrupulously observe the other, far more important ones. In tight circumstances, we need to observe only a majority of the standards. In a genuine crisis, we need only have observed one of the standards at some time in our lives, or at least given it serious consideration.

11. 11. It’s not unethical if you don’t mean to hurt anybody. If anyone happens to get hurt it was clearly an unforeseeable accident because you didn’t intend it, and no one should be held responsible for something that is a chance, accidental happenstance.

12. 12. It’s not unethical if there is no set of peer-reviewed, adequately replicated, universally accepted set of scientific research findings demonstrating, without qualification or doubt, that exactly what you did was the sole cause of harm to the student, supervisee, research participant, or therapy client. Few have articulated this principle with more compelling eloquence than a member of the Texas pesticide regulatory board charged with protecting Texas citizens against undue risks from pesticides. Discussing chlordane, a chemical used to kill termites, he said, “Sure, it’s going to kill a lot of people, but they may be dying of something else anyway.”

13. 13. It’s not unethical if it’s a one-time-only exception to your customary approach. Really. This is it. Last time. Never again. Don’t even ask.

14. 14. It’s not unethical if you’re an important figure in the field. Many psychologists have defined importance using such criteria as well known, extensively published, popular with students, popular with granting agencies, holding some appointive or elective office, being rich, having a large practice, having what you think of as a “following” of like-minded people, etc. But many of us find such ill-considered criteria to be far too vulnerable to Type II error. In deciding whether we are an important figure in the field, who, after all, knows us better than ourselves?

15. 15. It’s not unethical if you’re really pressed for time. In light of your unbelievable schedule and responsibilities, who after all could really expect you to attend to every little ethical detail?

16. 16. It’s not unethical if we stress the importance of judgment, consistency, and context. For example, it may seem as if a therapist who has submitted hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of bogus insurance claims for patients he never saw might have behaved “unethically.” However, as attorneys and others representing such professionals often point out: It was simply an error in judgment, completely inconsistent with the high ethics manifest in every other part of the person’s life, and insignificant in the context of both the unbelievable good that this person has done and the much-needed good he can continue to do if let off with a token penalty or a good talking to.

We’re guessing that each of you reading this chapter could extend this list. Our abilities to think creatively and respond ethically to even the most daunting challenges seem mirrored by the strategies available to rationalize even the most unethical approaches.

3. Conclusion

Developing and practicing ethics requires an active, mindful approach that continues from graduate school throughout our careers. The psychologist who remains unaware of the constantly evolving ethical and legal standards, fails to engage in critical self-examination, and stops actively seeking to do better is like – in light of the possible consequences of ethical missteps – the driver who dozes at the wheel. A human endeavor that focuses on humans in all their infinite variety, psychology never runs short of ethical challenges that are complex, filled with gray areas and conflicting values, and lacking clear, easy, or definitive answers. Meeting these challenges is an inescapable responsibility that confronts each of us.