Like the common cold, imposter syndrome is a reoccurring ailment that plagues the graduate student bodies of most programs, especially early American history PhDs. There are very few jobs, we often analyze many of the same archival materials in the same libraries, and the opportunities to compare ourselves to other peers or professors abound. We feel like we are not good enough; that somehow, we ended up here and shouldn’t have. Despite its ubiquity, it is an experience we grapple with alone. And it can be difficult to wrestle ourselves away from those feelings, even after finishing our doctorate.[1]

A recent NIH study has found that PhD students are six times more likely than the rest of the American population to experience imposter syndrome on a regular basis.[2] So while toxic comparison loops and feelings of not being good enough exist outside of universities, they are much more concentrated in academic environments. Academia was built as a space of privilege for white, male populations, so it is very common for women, non-white scholars, and other sidelined groups to feel imposter syndrome in spaces that weren’t intentionally built for them. In an environment where the systems are more difficult to understand, decisions are often made with minimal feedback or behind closed doors and the assumption that our PhD work is our entire lives runs rampant; it’s no wonder PhD programs are rife with this ailment. To reference The Offspring: “The Kids Aren’t Alright.”[3]

Unfortunately, this post will not provide a universal antidote to imposter syndrome (sorry!). Instead, I want to use this post to “diagnose” some of the ways I have seen imposter syndrome affect me and my peers in the immediate post-COVID world of academia. While the world continues to manifest new threats to our field of study and as time pushes us farther away from the early 2020s, I want to reflect on how we can mitigate these experiences. To those who grapple with these symptoms: I see you.

The COVID-19 pandemic exposed the challenges graduate students face in a way that only a pandemic could. It revealed the problematic systems upon which our societies are built, including the experiences of those trying to get doctorates. Because of COVID, there was a glimmer of light. There were new articles, posts, and blogs that made terms like “burnout” more colloquial in our vocabulary. I think my general cohort was among the first to commiserate mutually about imposter syndrome when we would convene. Yet at the same time, I noticed that while we were getting better at vocalizing our feelings, many of us would sit in that despair instead of working to prevent future bouts of imposter syndrome.

 Signs & Symptoms

 My imposter syndrome developed during the pandemic. It blossomed out of the survivor’s guilt I felt from having a PhD stipend that allowed me to sit at home while millions had to risk their lives for a paycheck. I would hear how other people would make great strides with their dissertations in a matter of days or weeks (think of all the free time we now had!), while I, on the other hand, would sink deeper and deeper into my couch re-watching The Great British Bake Off and ruminating on the state of events that were unfolding around me in spring of 2020.[4] Later, I would see and experience imposter syndrome behaviors like an inability to write (one of the classic symptoms is shrinking away from open Microsoft Word tabs), consistent self-deprecating thoughts (the inability to see positive aspects of one’s self), and a failure to recognize time passing (months passed in a blink of an eye, with no progress made on the dissertation). Weeks would pass before I had the mental clarity or confidence to write out a paragraph of my dissertation. This had never happened to me before, and I did not realize how bad it was until the end of my PhD. I, and some of my peers, developed a fear of our research and floated around aimlessly to avoid it because we thought we weren’t doing it well enough.

To me, the biggest concerns with imposter syndrome are that it (1) reinforces an idea that graduate students are only graduate students: tying self-worth to the ability to produce dissertation work that is deemed high-quality or ground-breaking by someone else. And (2), it snuffs out the joy found in historical inquiry that led many of us to a doctorate in the first place. These two symptoms defined my last year of the PhD, even when I was successful enough to land a job. I still felt like I was not meant to be here.

 Treatment Options[5]

 Nearly three years later, I continue to think about that time when I was trying to complete my PhD before moving on to my new job. Unfortunately, imposter syndrome does not go away. However, I have found that reflecting on those months allows me to take control of those feelings and name them when they reappear in my life—during summer breaks when I work on my book or toward the end of each semester when I don’t produce as much scholarship as I planned. Recognizing that those emotions are tied to imposter syndrome has helped me to meet it at the door when it comes knocking. These are feelings tied to this experience of imposter syndrome: It is not in fact true that I am an incapable person.

The most detrimental symptom of this ailment is the notion that our entire worth is tied to this one part of us because we chose a life in academia (“I chose this life and need to deal with its consequences; sink or swim”). Luckily, in the past three years, I have committed more time to doing other things to help my sanity (thanks, long-distance running!). This is not a novel concept, but it is worthy of emphasis: We are complex people who are worth more than just the career we decide to pursue at one point in our lives. Like a needy pet, our academic PhDs try to consume all our time and resources. We should extract ourselves from that pattern and set boundaries. Maybe there is a fiction book club you could join, a hobby you could pick up, or other people outside of academia to hang out with. Pick something that highlights other aspects of your worth and energizes you to get the work done when you next sit in front of your laptop. By intentionally incorporating a hobby into your life that can give you joy and the satisfaction of progress that might be hard to find when writing, your hobbies can stay hobbies and not turn into avoidance mechanisms (like procrasti-baking[6]).

How “The Doctor” Can Help

 This is also a call to action for faculty or professional advisors to step up and check in with their graduate students and recent graduates.

Students are busy panicking over their research, the job market, and all the brand-new experiences of doing high-level and high-intensity scholarly work. They shouldn’t be left to find community on their own. Can faculty or mentors offer opportunities for students that are centered on community, regular support networks, or bonding with them over hobbies separate from the PhD? Can we create spaces to see our students (and our colleagues! And ourselves!) as people, not just scholars? Can we show students that we see them as more than just the content they send to us for feedback or grading? Where can we provide more instances of support?[7] If you have a student that has gone MIA, can you check in on them instead of assuming they will eventually reach out to you?

I was lucky enough to have two advisors who would make time for us to chat about hobbies outside of just writing. We would check in and be honest about how we were feeling, and all the other things we were trying to juggle or do aside from the PhD. It was refreshing to have that space to just be a person, and not a machine expected to make regular progress. If an advisor is investing in a student for five, six, or more years, can they be open about their own lives to show that we are all people, and not just scholars? Those moments of mentorship mean more over time and have offered me a way to re-frame the work I do as important, even while I was getting it done in a non-traditional timeframe.

Conclusion

 I’ve characterized imposter syndrome as a disease that is taking a toll on our graduate students, not just because I am a historian of medicine, but because I truly see it as an ailment that disables a portion of our community, sometimes for years. While in small doses imposter syndrome can motivate us to do better by recognizing our areas for growth, I see so many comrades frozen or fading away because of it. It causes students to leave the field hopeless and exhausted. It saps the joy of historical inquiry from the people meant to be the future of our field.

I’ll end with a final takeaway, or mantra, I often heard and felt from my thesis advisors, which is to be gracious. Be gracious towards yourself, your peers, your mentors, and your mentees. Students: If you see your mentors putting in work to build community, show up and take advantage of these efforts. Answer your advisors’ emails and be honest. Mentors: Make time regularly to show up to listen and talk with your advisees. It is a privilege to be where we are, but it is not the only option for us as historians, and it isn’t what defines us as people. There are treatments and prophylactics available to minimize the grip of imposter syndrome, and if we can work together, we can reduce or prevent further outbreaks of it.

Endnotes

[1] Header Image: Christine Nishiyama, Cartoon Drawing, “How to Overcome Imposter Syndrome as an Artist” on Might Could, https://might-could.com/essays/how-to-overcome-imposter-syndrome/ (accessed Dec. 30, 2025).

[2] Yanyan Wang and Wanhe Li, “The Impostor Phenomenon among Doctoral Students: A Scoping Review,” Frontiers in Psychology 14 (Oct. 2, 2023), doi:10.3389/fpsyg.2023.1233434.

[3] “The Offspring—The Kids Aren’t Alright (Official Music Video),” posted Jan. 17, 2017, by The Offspring. YouTube 3:00, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7iNbnineUCI.

[4] Remember when some cities had curfews? When we would need to wait in line for 30+ minutes to get swabbed and tested for COVID-19? Or when we would have to wake up at 2:00 a..m to secure a coveted Instacart slot to get the next week’s groceries?

[5] Therapy is always a strong option to help with the feelings and symptoms that surround imposter syndrome and similar experiences. It is nothing to be ashamed of and can help us reach these conclusions. It can often be a healthier way to cope, especially if the suggestions mentioned in this post seem overwhelming or burdensome for you to do on your own.

[6] Julia Moskin, “Why Work When You Can Procrastibake?” New York Times,. May 15, 2018. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/15/dining/procrastination-baking.html.

[7] I also want to recognize that faculty and mentors often are overburdened with their own work, scholarship, imposter syndrome symptoms, and/or other responsibilities. I am noting these questions to start a discussion that I hope can improve how we support our graduate students while also supporting ourselves.