“The split occurs in the history of the English language during the Regency period; division between unreason and reason, the point of departure from Play too Dangerous in language.”
—J. Peters, Contesting Admission
This story first appeared in my university writing, published in University on Watch, during a time when I was piecing together the fragments of my life after a turbulent experience. It was a moment of transformation, and one that ultimately shaped the trajectory of my ambitions. In the face of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, I turned to creativity and community. What began as a playful idea during my undergraduate years—designing polo shirts for my friends—evolved into something far more ambitious: the creation of the Doctoral Guard. Let me take you back to that pivotal moment…
The Birth of a Uniform
Back in college, I had designed polo shirts for my friends—simple, custom-made shirts with a hand-stitched insignia representing our little clique. Those shirts became symbols of our camaraderie, and years later, some friends still keep them as mementos of those halcyon days.
As I navigated the challenges of my doctoral ambitions, I revisited that idea, this time on a grander scale. I envisioned not just a shirt, but a movement. I dreamed of an “army” of academics and allies, a group I called the Doctoral Guard. Together, this band of supporters would champion my cause and shield me from further obstacles.
Designing the Guard
I spared no expense. I worked with an artist to create a logo and partnered with a uniform store to bring the designs to life. The uniforms were elaborate—complete with pre-military-style stripes for rank and two lightning bolts on the collars, a nod to the striking imagery of power and mystique. My own jacket had my name and “Ph.D.” embroidered above the pocket, and the inner lining featured a breakaway vest bearing the insignia.
In total, I invested thousands of dollars into crafting twenty full-body uniforms, each tailored down to the last detail. This wasn’t just about clothing; it was a statement of resilience, a visual representation of my determination to overcome.
A Vision Meets Reality
But as grand as the vision was, reality had other plans. When the uniforms were finally ready, I discovered that no one—not a single person—wanted to wear them.
The rejection stung. Here I was, pouring my creativity, resources, and hope into a project that, in the end, no one seemed to believe in. The uniforms, with all their promise of unity and empowerment, became a symbol of isolation.
Reflection: The Armor We Create
Looking back, the Doctoral Guard was more than a physical creation; it was a metaphor for the armor I needed at the time. When the systems around you feel overwhelming, it’s natural to want to shield yourself with something—whether that’s a uniform, a title, or even a dream.
The experience taught me a valuable lesson about resilience and reinvention. While the uniforms didn’t achieve their intended purpose, they became a stepping stone in my journey. They reminded me that sometimes, the tools we create to protect ourselves also reveal our vulnerabilities—and that’s okay.
As for the uniforms? They’re still with me, tucked away as relics of a bold and unrelenting chapter in my life. And every time I see them, I’m reminded of the fire it takes to keep moving forward, even when no one else sees the vision quite like you do.