Written by Paige Cox, General Member
Introduction:
Imposter Syndrome is “self-doubt of intellect, skills, or accomplishments among high-achieving individuals…They experience pervasive feelings of self-doubt, anxiety, depression, and/or apprehension of being exposed as a fraud in their work…objective evidence of their successfulness.” (Huecker,2023). I have felt this many times in the last year and a half why because I am a graduate student with a disability. Within post-secondary education there is many references to the “hidden curriculum” the perception that students with disabilities, like myself never make it to graduate school. I am entering my last semester, an average higher than I have ever had as a graduate student. Still, I have never truly felt a sense of belonging. What is the hidden curriculum? What is my story? These questions will be examined in the following paragraphs.
Investigating the Hidden Curriculum:
By definition a hidden curriculum is “implicit academic, social, and cultural messages,” “unwritten rules and unspoken expectations,” and “unofficial norms, behaviours and values” of the dominant-culture context in which all teaching and learning is situated.”(Tierney & Sablan, 2014) The hidden curriculum within graduate education is something that I have faced more times then I can count, but the big thing is, it is systemic. University affairs published an article explaining the complexities of the hidden curriculum and within their article it states that “within higher education reinforces oppressive social norms (e.g., colonialism) by advancing unwritten rules, values and expectations that exclude already marginalized groups.” (Anderson, 2022)It makes specific reference to graduate education. Looking into that these specific norms are engrained within a system which leaves students with disabilities paving there way and faculty wondering what can be done for something that is beyond the capabilities of being handled in the institution.
The best way to explore the hidden curriculum is threw looking at a story of a student that has navigated- I am an example of that. Navigating that hidden curriculum has been one of my more challenging aspects of graduate school. Sometimes even harder then my courses. As I enter my final semester I look back, I am grateful.
My story, navigating the hidden curriculum in education
I struggled majority of my degree with imposter syndrome. I never felt like I belonged I was continuously fighting the system. That being said, on the other end of it I know I was meant to be there, but it took a long time to get to that point.
When you think about things that happen in someone’s life, it is said that everything happens for a reason. The people you meet, the pain, and the love all happen for a reason. I think that sometimes you never know why. When I took my first Master's course, I wrote my story. It was the first time I had put to paper my life as an individual with a learning disability in my own words. I wrote this passage to describe where I was, looking at this when I was almost done with my master's. It’s incredible.
I wrote, “I am accomplishing my dream. Do I screw up? Yes, most definitely. I have 0 impulse control sometimes, and it gets me in trouble. I am lucky, though; I have people in my corner. Even when I do not deserve it, I will continue to make myself uncomfortable, to help the people that are coming behind me to help them so that they can learn from my mistakes.” I think I’ve done that; in a year, I have lived a dream, and I have also lived a nightmare. But I would not regret a single minute.
Growing up, I never thought that having disabilities would have a profound effect on my life. As I got older, I reflected on what I had been through I have been. When you become aware of what is happening or how something affects you, it is easy to fall into the trap of I’m not good enough. I always joke that I am my own greatest mystery; from a textbook standpoint, I know why someone with similar challenges as me may do things. I do not know how to stop them when I do them.
At the age of 11, I was diagnosed with multiple learning disabilities as well as generalized anxiety disorder. Some of my earliest memories are of my anxiety. I do not remember school being an enjoyable experience. I never knew what my feelings were at the time. All I knew was that sometimes it felt like the world was spinning out of control. I would get dizzy, and then I would not remember what happened. A few minutes later, I would become aware again, and everyone would be crowded around me.
A panic attack, I know that now. When I was in late elementary school, I just felt like an emotional weirdo. What else are you supposed to think? So then came my first two diagnoses, Panic disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. I also could not keep up in school, and I fell behind. I could hardly function in math and was a year behind my grade level. They did not ask me to remember something from 10 minutes ago. It will not happen. I can surely tell you something that happened 2 years ago last Thursday. That is an exaggeration. But my long-term memory is wicked, short-term… not so much. So, a 10-year-old me sat through 2 days of testing so that the adults in my life could land on the diagnosis of learning disabilities. I can't help but wonder what they thought I would be able to do when they made this diagnosis. Part of me, as well, is okay with not knowing.
I went through junior high; I made it through. At times, it may have been questionable. I have fond memories of getting in trouble for staring out the window. I used to watch the people walk past, wondering about their lives. I was so inquisitive. Were they having a good day or a bad day? Where did they live? Were they happy? I was bullied quite a bit. Someone thought starting a rumour would be so fun that I could not read or write. I was called SPED, the abbreviated form of Special Education or Special Needs. I didn’t have many friends. That was okay, though; dance was my everything. It allowed me to tell stories when my words just would not. It got me through the hard years of Jr. High, and I am so grateful for it today.
Then came high school, a whole different ball game. I came to realize I did not like busy schools. I spent my off periods in my resource teacher’s room. Lunches in the far corner of the school with one friend or in the learning center away from everyone. I flew under the radar for most of my high school experience. My first high school dance was grade 12, only because my resource teacher drove me nuts until I agreed to go. As I got older, I got self-conscious, I got anxious. I may have been starting to catch up academically, but socially, I fell behind. I could not sit still, and why I would go for long walks in the halls and inevitably get in trouble—I even got asked if I had a bladder problem because I would go to the washroom every class. No, I just must move. If I don’t, my brain will explode. Now, at 28, I know I have ADHD. I am on medication, and the difference is incredible. The long walks, numerous bathroom breaks, and the feeling that ten thousand minor bugs were crawling on me when I couldn't get up. It all makes sense.
One of the main memories that I have of feeling different from my peers is when I entered university when my best friend looked at me and said I would probably fail out of university because I needed extra help. The ironic thing about that is that 4 years later, I was the only one to walk across the stage. It was at university that I started to tell my story. I realized I could speak and make people feel something. I have memories in my undergrad of having panic attacks in class after failing a midterm and running out of class and to the washroom, sitting on the floor crying and hyperventilating. Then I calmed down, picked myself up, walked back into class, and continued my note-taking. I spent much time getting to know every square inch of the Cape Breton University staircases and washrooms. They are pretty nice. These experiences shaped me, though, and I would not be who I am without them.
Fast forward almost 10 years of crippling anxiety, self-destructive behaviour and here I am. One semester away from finishing my master's degree. Do I still have my bad days? Yes. Am I fighting? Also, yes. The hidden curriculum in university settings is that you are different, you don’t make it through, and it needs to change. I think, though, it is. These changes are systemic; they are not going to change overnight. As I finish my degree, I hope to push the boundaries just enough to start the change. With the right people in your life, you can accomplish anything. I am proof.
References:
Huecker MR, Shreffler J, McKeny PT, et al. Imposter Phenomenon. [Updated 2023 Jul 31]. In: StatPearls [Internet]. Treasure Island (FL): StatPearls Publishing; 2024 Jan-. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK585058/
Anderson, E. (2022, July 12). Navigating the ‘hidden curriculum’ as a graduate student with disabilities. University Affairs. https://universityaffairs.ca/career-advice/navigating-the-hidden-curriculum-as-a-graduate-student-with-disabilities/
Tierney, W. G., & Sablan, J. R. (2014). Examining College Readiness. American Behavioral Scientist, 58(8), 943–946. https://doi.org/10.1177/0002764213515228