How a peer network made my worst day as a grad student bearable Strengthening our communities from within can provide relief, says Taylor Tibbs
Anxiety and depression affect nearly half of all early-career researchers
I remember the first time I considered quitting my PhD programme. The day was overcast. Grey and damp. It took all of my strength to leave the warmth of my bed, step out of the front door and start the uphill trek to the bus stop. I felt every cell in my body scream to go back home. Back to bed. Back to the blank, peaceful solitude of sleep.
I sat on the bus and rummaged through my bag, fishing out a journal article published that month, which I had managed to read while working on my 10-hour experiment the night before. That day, I had two seminars to attend, an undergraduate course to lecture, a preliminary exam to study for and another experiment to run. It would easily be another 10- to 12-hour day.
My phone buzzed. “In more pain than yesterday. Really hate this chemo stuff,” my mother, sitting in a hospital chair 350 kilometres away, had written. “Wish you were here xoxo.”
I slipped my phone back into my pocket. I didn’t have the heart to answer.
At my stop, I stepped off the curb and onto the white stripes of the crosswalk.
“Plop.” Something wet and solid hit my head. As if the Universe had spat at me, bird poo landed on my head. My colleague’s words from the previous evening rang in my head: “Just quit.”
The overworking culture grind
Life as an academic scientist is hard. Graduate students are six times more likely than the general population to have depression or anxiety; in a Nature survey last year, more than half of 3,838 postdoctoral researchers from around the world said they had considered leaving their career paths owing to mental-health concerns from work-related stressors.
And these struggles are not limited to early-career researchers in science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM). Some STEM trainees go on to become faculty researchers, who are also prone to the same cycles of burnout, depression and anxiety.
Academia is exciting and fulfilling. It is also demanding and unrelenting. Being at the precipice of scientific discovery undeniably takes hard work, but many academic institutions enshrine a culture of overworking. Graduate students and postdocs routinely work 50 or more hours per week, and often through the night. Eighty-nine per cent of respondents to the Nature survey reported having worked during weekends and on their days off in the previous month.
Passion drives overworking, but so does the race to make discoveries while competing for shrinking research funding. This high-stakes culture weighs on principal investigators (PIs) and trickles down to junior researchers. A PI’s career depends on their publication rate — which means that secondary responsibilities, such as mentoring, can be deprioritized. All of these factors can contribute to a stressful psychological environment.
Such working environments can easily turn toxic. Twenty-four per cent of postdoctoral researchers and 21% of graduate students reported in surveys that they had experienced harassment or discrimination.
To make matters worse, the US Supreme Court struck down affirmative action in June at my own institution, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill (UNC) — and the consequences will shake every US university. In response, many institutions are dropping diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives altogether. This is a major step backwards for racial equity, which will undoubtedly result in Indigenous scientists and scientists of colour fleeing US academia.
Peers can shore up supports
Tackling the root causes of mental-health concerns in STEM is no easy task, and it will require a multifaceted approach. A plethora of plausible solutions have been proposed, including increasing mental-health awareness, establishing living wages, requiring mentorship philosophies to be disclosed in grant proposals and training scientists on how to recognize and manage stress in themselves and others.
As a trainee who is already working seven days a week, I find it challenging to gather the energy required to advocate for myself. But peer-driven support has made that feel more achievable. In 2020, I and a handful of graduate students and postdocs at UNC formed an organization called the Peer Mentor Network (PMN). Our goal is to promote community, inclusivity and support for students in our department, especially researchers who are of colour, are LGBTQ+, are disabled and/or have caregiving responsibilities. We recognized a growing need for professional and emotional support among our peers that we felt was not being met by our institution, so we chose to meet that need ourselves.
Together, we designed a peer-led programme in which researchers at different career stages and in different disciplines were matched into groups. We set up groups of eight to ten individuals, half of whom were more junior (undergraduates and first- or second-year grad students) and half of whom were more senior (grad students in their third year or beyond and postdocs) to have monthly discussions. The goal was not only to facilitate professional connections, but also to provide a space for students and postdocs to express their concerns, doubts and struggles. With DEI initiatives being heavily targeted in the United States, it’s imperative to bolster community structures that support early-career researchers from under-represented communities.
The groups discuss a wide range of topics, from brainstorming a solution to a tough experiment, to navigating conflict with a lab mate or mentor, providing advice for the next career stage or discussing strategies for setting healthy work–life boundaries. These are more than just gripe sessions. They have been a space to recognize, encourage and celebrate the hard work that we all put into our research each day. Every year, the PMN celebrates the efforts of grad students who have completed the daunting task of completing their written preliminary exam — whether they pass or fail.
The PMN also provides valuable mentorship experience for senior students and postdocs, an essential skill for aspiring PIs that is often overlooked. Trainees learn how to navigate conflict, support junior colleagues and effectively manage a diverse team.
Over the years, the PMN’s programming has evolved. We began with panel discussions about navigating preliminary exams and thesis committees. Now, we also hold seminars on mental health, mindfulness, trainee health insurance and how to ‘cold e-mail’ other professionals.
Each year, the PMN has united more than 40 pre- and postdoctoral researchers in our department. Last June, I surveyed our members to assess their overall satisfaction, and 83.3% agreed that the PMN had improved their university experience. Respondents reported that sharing their struggles and hearing those of others helped them to feel seen and less isolated. Some participants felt that the PMN gave them the opportunity to share negative experiences in a way that could help others to avoid similar outcomes. “Realizing that you are not the only one struggling is empowering. We help build each other up,” shared one respondent.
The PMN has not been the sole factor in healing my own wounds, but it has improved my mental well-being. After I successfully defended my PhD last May, a colleague asked me, “What are you most proud of in your career?” I stood with a furrowed brow. No particular publication, experiment or award came to my mind. The thing that made me feel the proudest was helping others in my community to build strength, resilience and solidarity, benefiting more than just myself. And it’s not just my own warm feelings about my peer cohort — emerging research shows that peer support can reduce depression and anxiety and encourage development of effective coping mechanisms.
This strategy will not be a cure-all. Many things will have to change to resolve the mental-health crisis in STEM. Systemic change takes time. Changing policies takes time. Tearing down an academic culture historically built on the pernicious mentality of “I went through hell, so you have to, too,” takes time. But strengthening a community starts with that community.
On your worst day, when a bird poos on your head, remember, it is easier to face a shitty situation with help from others.
doi: https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-024-00048-1
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This story originally appeared on: Nature - Author:Taylor Tibbs