Roger Eardley-Pryor received his PhD from UCSB in 2014 and is currently an oral historian in the Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley’s Oral History Center. During his time at UCSB, Eardley-Pryor completed a dissertation titled, The Global Environmental Moment: The Limits of Sovereignty and American Science on "Spaceship Earth," 1945-1974. The project examined the rise of global environmentalism in the decades after World War II. Below, Dr. Eardley-Pryor shares his advice for current graduate students, as well as some fond memories of his time at UCSB!  

1. Tell us a little about your time in graduate school. What was your research focus? When did you graduate?

Grad school at UCSB was too much fun! No wonder I took so long to finish. I began my MA program at age 27 in Fall 2005, a month after my wife and I got engaged while wine tasting in the Santa Ynez Valley—an intoxicating experience all around. I filed my PhD (finally!) in Spring 2014, soon after turning 36. During that magical decade, we married, met incredible friends, and lived in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. At UCSB, I studied with exceptional professors and learned new ways of seeing the world that totally transformed my reality. And despite History's reputation as a solitary discipline, I learned there that I learn best in a community, listening and sharing dialog with others. Today, those lessons are at the heart of my work as a full-time oral historian. The friendships and relationships I forged at UCSB changed my life in wonderful ways.

As for my research focus? Well, it wasn't very focused. (Another reason I had such fun and took so long!) I studied American history, especially the 20^th century, but my interests wandered with every new subfield I found. I started doing cultural history, read a ton of Cold War studies, flirted with world history, and ultimately dove deeply into the histories of science and technology with a healthy dose of environmental history. I grew especially curious about politically inclined scientists who became environmental activists, and about political actors who used environmental science to advance their politics.

Several professors patiently abided my evolving interests, especially Patrick McCray, my amazing PhD advisor, who guided my studies in the histories of science and technology, and who created opportunities and made personal introductions for me that I continue to benefit from today. Salim Yaqub was an early and long-lasting mentor in my grad school journey who advised my thesis work. Peter Alagona also advised my thesis and deeply expanded my understanding of environmental history. All three of these mentors shared their immense expertise and good humor, and each fostered research communities (including CCWS!) that both sharpened and broadened my thinking in supportive and social environments.

Other UCSB professors also shaped my graduate experiences, including Lisa Jacobson, who graciously accepted me as a wide-eyed and frankly unprepared MA student, and who provided my first paid experience as a researcher. Alice O'Connor taught me 20^th century US historiography and, incredibly, chose me to TA in her UCDC course, which enabled months of my archival research in our nation's capital. Greg Graves introduced me to the wonders of environmental history, and Randy Bergstrom guided the US portion of my comprehensive and oral exams. Paul Spickard's raucous world history seminar reoriented my narrow notions of change over time and, appropriately, helped expand my worldview to a planetary scale. Research seminars with Tsuyoshi Hasegawa and Mary Furner helped me craft and support arguments, while John Majewski and Anne Plane modeled methods of teaching and managing students that still guide my collaborative work today.

After many years, I eventually assembled a sprawling thesis examining the rise of global environmentalism in the decades after WWII. I argued that planetary environmental concern arose from the Cold War contexts of atomic fallout, and it achieved an apotheosis in the early 1970s with the United Nations' first intergovernmental conference on the world environment. Like many UN gatherings, events surrounding the Stockholm Conference in 1972 were extremely influential to ideas about international development, if ultimately ineffectual on how that development proceeded. We should have expected as much. As the scientist and environmentalist Barry Commoner wrote in 1971, "Anyone who proposes to cure the environmental crisis undertakes thereby to change the course of history." And as Niccolo Machiavelli wrote in the year 1505, "There is nothing more difficult to carry out, nor more doubtful of success, nor more dangerous to handle, than to initiate a new order of things." At UCSB, I became convinced that we need a new order of things. And now, given the escalating consequences of climate change, the sooner the better.

2. Why did you decide to pursue your PhD? Why did you choose UCSB?

When I began grad school, I didn't know what I wanted to study. I knew I loved learning, and I had vague notions of becoming "a teacher," perhaps at a community college or in a small liberal arts college like the one I had attended. At Miami University in Ohio, I did one of those choose-your-own-adventure undergraduate degrees they called "Interdisciplinary Studies." I loved it. It taught me to think in terms of relationships, to appreciate complexity, and to become comfortable with uncertainty. After undergrad, I lived in Australia and New Zealand for a year, spent a few years snowboarding in Colorado, and then followed my heart to California where my now-wife had moved. These were privileged pursuits of passion more than intellect, and increasingly I missed academic learning. Waiting tables in restaurants allowed me to travel and work in a social environment (and, unbeknownst to me then, provided an introduction to systems thinking), but it wasn't the future I imagined for myself. The world was messy and marvelous, and I wanted a job where I could explore it endlessly. My naïve vision of "being a professor" seemed the best way to become a professional learner and teacher. I had little idea of what "being a professor" actually entailed, nor what subject I might want to study for the rest of my life. What discipline could study any discipline? Since everything has a history, I figured History was the most interdisciplinary! That's how I chose History for graduate school. As for UCSB, well, it was the only school in California foolish enough to accept me! I still can't believe my good fortune.

3. Can you tell us a little bit about your experience with UCSB’s Center for Cold War Studies (or COWHIG)? Any favorite memories of particular events, professors, friends?

CCWS fundamentally shaped my UCSB experience. It defined my early grad school years, and ballistic-like, launched me towards successful (if protracted) completion of my PhD. Salim Yaqub's outstanding teaching and mentorship is how and why I first engaged in CCWS. Lucky for me, Salim joined UCSB's faculty the same year I began my MA degree, and I'm so grateful he continued mentoring me on my dissertation committee! In the Winter 2006 term, I enrolled in what I believe was Salim's first-ever UCSB graduate seminar: "Cultural Approaches to US Foreign Relations." Who knew history could be such fun?! I wanted more. In pursuing those interests, I soon fell into the wonderful CCWS community, where I met incredible scholars as well as fellow grad students who were equally curious about the ways the Cold War helped define the past and continues to influence our contemporary world.

I especially remember Paul Hirsch, a fellow grad student and dear friend who shared generously his passions for cultural studies, Cold War comics, and rare bourbons. Together with Paul Baltimore, a grad student with Salim in US-Middle East relations who also became a dear friend, we spent countless late-nights of conversation and fun debating the past and dreaming (sometimes fearing) our futures.

I remember then-postdocs Jessica Chapman and John Sbardellati, as well as fellow grad students Dimitri Akulov, Nicole Pacino, Henry Maar, and Ken Hough. All became friends, confidants, and colleagues in what is, inevitably—what must be—our shared-yet-individual and crazy-making journey through grad school. What a blessing to find these amazing people and share our unique journeys together! CCWS spurred my interests in contemporary history, and it gave me a community in which to explore it.

I remember Toshi Hasegawa hosting a CCWS gathering at his beautiful home near UCSB's campus. Especially, I remember Toshi's home office with an entire wall of built-in wooden shelves, all full of fascinating books—several in various languages, the alphabets of which I barely recognized. Toshi's study was near his lovely backyard patio where professors and students alike devoured appetizers and sipped good wine. Ah, Santa Barbara!

Importantly, my graduate fellowship as administrative assistant for CCWS in 2007-2008 helped me feel I belonged at a (reoccurring) time when I questioned if grad school in History was the right path for me. Paul Baltimore, now sadly departed and an absolutely unique and incredible human being, had served as CCWS admin assistant in the year prior to me, and in his special way, he helped show me the ropes. Paul, and then-post-doc Jessica Chapman, and I then organized and hosted the 2008 joint-annual Cold War grad student conference at UCSB that year, which included George Washington University and the London School of Economics. Whew! Hosting an international grad conference at UCSB was intense, and awesome! One grad student almost passed out during their panel after I foolishly scheduled a conference day with barely any lunch break. I learned a ton that year (and thankfully, that student survived).

CCWS also guided my first real research endeavors. Salim Yaqub taught my first-ever UCSB graduate research seminar, where I wrote a paper that spawned my long-standing (and relevant to my current job) interests in scientists and environmentalism. When I was first figuring out how to even get to JSTOR, let alone how to search it, I stumbled upon letters to the editor in the journal Science that debated the use of herbicides in Vietnam. In the late 1960s and early 1970s, just as the US environmental movement reached a crescendo, American scientists debated the ethics and ecological implications of using chemical weapons in war to kill jungle canopy, and thereby better destroy Vietcong soldiers and their travel routes. Those topics of science, environment, and international politics evolved eventually into my dissertation on the rise of global environmentalism. In spring 2009, I presented my own research paper for my first time ever at that joint-annual Cold War graduate conference, that year at the London School of Economics. I remember Odd Arne Westad gently but certainly tearing my paper to shreds. That night, appropriately, we laughed over pints of bitter. Also, the paper I wrote in Toshi Hasegawa's graduate research seminar about the use of tear gas in Vietnam is only work I ever published (in a book as part of a collected volume). My evolving interests in science soon connected me to Patrick McCray, who became my exceptional PhD advisor, and who I also first met through CCWS.

In terms of even doing archival research—let alone writing, presenting, or publishing it—my CCWS grad fellowship and my work on that 2008 Cold War grad conference is the only reason I was accepted in summer 2008 to SICAR, the Summer Institute on Conducting Archival Research. SICAR was held in Washington, DC, and hosted by the George Elliot School of International Affairs at George Washington University. Really, it was run by GW Professor Hope Harrison, a wonderful person who I first met at that 2008 Cold War conference at UCSB. (While at the conference at UCSB, I recall she drove to see the wildflowers up Figueroa Mountain.) Honestly, before SICAR, I didn’t really know what an archive was, and I was already a few years into grad school! Learning about how to do archival research—especially in Washington, DC, at NARA and other archives there—helped define my graduate experience, and it enabled my current career. Today, I help create new archival records by conducting oral history interviews for The Bancroft Library, the research archive at UC Berkeley.

4. Could you tell us a little about your career path? What is your current position? How did you end up in it?

My career path, from graduate school through today, emerged from luck in a series of mostly unplanned, privileged, and often undeserved opportunities that I either fell backwards into or somehow stumbled upon. Seriously.

Despite the odds, I now have a fabulous job as an oral historian in The Bancroft Library at UC Berkeley's Oral History Center. My formal job title is Academic Specialist. Basically, I research fascinating people we call "narrators" who then share their life histories and reflections with me over several video-recorded interview sessions. I usually conduct oral histories with narrators who have engaged somehow with science, technology, or the environment. Before we begin recording together, I research and work with narrators to create a loose, iterative outline for their oral history. We then record our conversations over multiple hours, often over several days, typically at their home or workplace, but increasingly over Zoom or some other remote interviewing software. The recordings of our conversations then get transcribed into text that we both lightly edit to ensure our meaning and words are clear. Once a narrator approves the final text of their oral history, the Oral History Center publishes the transcript online and makes it freely available as part of UC Berkeley's Digital Collections. A printed and hardbound version of their transcript also joins the extensive oral history archive in Berkeley's Bancroft Library.

It's awesome work—not to say it's easy, but I do love it. As a full-time oral historian, I meet fascinating people who tell me deeply personal stories about their lives, relationships, and careers. I work with great colleagues and UC Berkeley undergrads to edit, preserve, and share these interviews. My fellow oral historians and I collaborate on grants for new oral history projects, as well as on podcasts and museum exhibits featuring our archived interviews. I present my work in academic conferences and public forums, and I draft an occasional post for the UC Berkeley Library blog. I get to use my PhD knowledge and research skills, and thankfully, I don't have to publish academic prose, which I've struggled to do well. But the job requires entrepreneurism. Berkeley does not provide funding for my position. To do the work, I help raise funds for my salary and for the outsized costs of conducting each recorded hour of oral history. (We now charge $2300 per interview hour, and my oral histories range anywhere from four to over twenty hours in length.) My position has no tenure. However, Academic Specialists are now unionized in the UAW along with UC postdocs, graduate researchers, and teaching assistants. But if my office does not raise enough funds each year, then we don't have money for new interviews and I no longer have a job. Thankfully, Berkeley's Oral History Center has been doing this work with a similar funding model since 1953, and today, we have enough demand for our work—and therefore enough funding—to provide me a sense of security, at least for the foreseeable few years. My work is constantly challenging and enlightening. And I don't know any other job quite like it.

How did I score this job? Like I said, mostly dumb luck. My career opportunities came more from personal relationships than academic prowess. Hindsight helps me tell a linear tale, but the actual path was hardly planned. After my fellowship with UCSB's Center for Cold War Studies, and after TA'ing over several years, I was incredibly lucky that my PhD advisor Patrick McCray offered me a multi-year graduate fellowship in UCSB's former Center for Nanotechnology in Society, an interdisciplinary research center funded by the National Science Foundation. Patrick headed the center's research group on the history of nanotechnology. Like most people, I knew nothing about nanotech. Even today, I see nanotechnology mostly as a policy term to rationalize funding for science more than a field of scientific research. Nonetheless, I studied nanotech's perceived environmental implications, which in the process, paid for my tuition and for me to present my research at conferences across North America and Europe. At these conferences and at UCSB's nanotech center, I met wonderful scholars and shared adventures, both intellectual and extracurricular. Those relationships later saved me from the punishing samsara of impecunious adjunct teaching.

Upon completing my PhD in 2014, I found myself in Portland, Oregon where once again I waited tables in a restaurant for income, while also shuttling each day between local universities as an insecure adjunct instructor. Then suddenly, without hearing about it nor applying for it, folks I knew from old nanotech meetings called me out of the clear blue to offer a three-year postdoctoral fellowship to study the history of science at the Chemical Heritage Foundation in Philadelphia, now called the Science History Institute. Three years employment? As a researcher!? In history!!? See what I mean about dumb luck? As soon as my wife finished her own graduate schooling in acupuncture, we moved from Portland to Philadelphia. At the Science History Institute, I met more remarkable scholars, researched interdisciplinary science at academic institutions in Illinois and California, and again I was paid to present my findings at conferences around the world, including in Sweden, Singapore, and South Korea. My wife and I very much enjoyed our lives in Philadelphia. On a profoundly personal note, after several years of trying before ultimately doing invitro fertilization, we finally welcomed our daughter into the world at our nation's first hospital, which Benjamin Franklin helped establish in Philadelphia.

Importantly, the Science History Institute also trained me in the art of conducting oral histories. I'd heard of oral history at UCSB and even used them in my dissertation, but I had never conducted one. Immediately, I loved it and found the practice suited my personality. At the Science History Institute, I recorded several oral histories with scientists, including with a Nobel Laureate in chemistry. When the end of my incredible three-year postdoc approached, I applied furiously for traditional academic jobs as a professor. But despite my many opportunities, I had never published a peer reviewed article. As we all know, in today's tight job market, no publications meant no interest from academic hiring committees. Of the many places I applied, the only one that called me back was UC Berkeley's Oral History Center. Miraculously, my dream institution offered me a dream job. My wife and I received their job offer while still in the hospital when our newborn baby arrived. We wondered, could we afford to move and live in California again? Then again, with my postdoc soon ending, could we afford not to try? In Spring 2018, with our then-four-month-old daughter, we moved to Sonoma County and I began work at UC Berkeley. Louis Pasteur supposedly said "fortune favors the prepared mind," but I remain skeptical. My fortune far exceeds my mind, despite many years of preparation at UCSB and beyond!

5. What skills do you think your experience in graduate school provided you with, and how do you utilize these skills in your current career?

Personal relationships and interdisciplinary learning were at the heart of my best graduate school experiences. Those two aspects remain essential to my work today as an oral historian. For me, it was always with people, not books, when I did my deepest learning. At UCSB, I learned how to learn, and I did so with marvelous people in a supportive community. There, I learned how to pursue and think about new knowledge, how to organize it and adapt it to my interests, and how to share it with others. These are life-long skills, and I'm lucky to use them in my current job.

6. What can students do throughout their time in graduate school to best prepare for the job market (academic or alt-ac) and get the most out of the PhD experience?

Amid my interdisciplinary wanderings, my advisor Patrick McCray often asked me, "Who are your people? With what community do you want to engage?" His questions, I think, suggest good advice for grad school: pursue your passions and find your people. Then hope that the hard work you'll do, and the chances that will come, can help you continue pursuing your passions and your people, wherever the journey takes you.

That said, throughout grad school and beyond, I refrained "Fake it 'till you make it," and I still wrestle with imposter syndrome. I also harbor survivor's guilt for landing unexpectedly in a wonderful pseudo-academic job at a school that, as a student, I never could have gotten into. Honestly, as a white, privileged, American male, I was born lucky, and that's continued through most of my life. In hindsight, my remarkable years as a grad student at UCSB are like a dream, and Santa Barbara is still one of my favorite places on the planet. But that dreamy hindsight cloaks the serious struggles—for direction, for purpose, for funding—that also saturates most grad school experiences.

So I'll reiterate this: Life is short, so pursue your passions and hold close the people, places, and topics that fuel your fire. If you're able, try to strike a balance between passion and pragmatism, but let your passions light the way.

Even though grad school at UCSB felt long and sometimes desperate, especially when writing that damn dissertation, it was a special time with amazing people in a stunning place that would not last forever. While you're there (or anywhere, for that matter), do your best to love your life. Today will never come again. Living through tomorrow, however, demands some thoughtful planning. Living in the moment and planning for the future requires serious reflection about yourself, your relationships, and your ever-evolving circumstances. (And aside: in my first year at Santa Barbara, grad students sold a "UCSB History" t-shirt that bore the Socrates quote, "The unexamined life is not worth living." That shirt's now over fifteen years old and full of holes. Much to my wife's chagrin, I still wear it proudly.)

As for pragmatism, at UCSB, I bounced from one academic interest to the next—and it was glorious! I justified my roaming interests with a fleeting hope to eventually apply for any academic job offer I could find. "Sure, I can teach American history! Or international history, or world history, or cultural studies, or history of science, or environmental history!" Jack of all trades, master of none. A mile wide, but an inch deep. I didn't get hired to teach any of those topics (except in insecure stints as an adjunct instructor, one underpaid term at a time). Yet somehow, I got damn lucky that my wide-ranging pursuit of interests, academic and otherwise, all aligned. Today I interview a variety of experts on a variety of topics, but I didn't prepare consciously to be a full-time oral historian. In grad school, I didn’t know this job existed. I imagine many (most?) history grad students will eventually find careers they didn't or couldn't imagine. Since you never know what might help in your unknown future, I'd say follow your heart, both in class and beyond, and cherish your relationships.

7. If you could share any piece of advice with graduate students who are about to enter the job market, what would it be?

Advice for today's job market? Based on my experiences, I'd say, "get lucky." But that's absurd advice. I'm a white, privileged, male who stumbled into opportunities. Perhaps I could say "be open to new opportunities, especially when unexpected," but that's so trite. I guess I'll just say go with the flow, but if the time comes to change streams, do it before you drown. Then again, that metaphor's not useful during a drought. So, I wish you the best of luck. I hope you can find or create a life you find meaningful.

8. What was your favorite spot on UCSB’s campus?

Obviously, the Lagoon trails and nearby beach satisfy the soul. Often, Professor McCray dispensed wisdom as we walked those trails, and once, with our feet in that beach sand, we watched a Vandenberg space launch streak fire across a blue sky. But also, I absolutely loved wandering the stacks in UCSB's Library. While searching for that one book on your list, you might discover nearby dusty titles of mind-opening historiography and maybe exhume a hidden gem. Tucked somewhere in those stacks, I once found a review copy of The Doomsday Syndrome (1972) by John Maddox, then editor of Nature. It was heavily underlined by ornery UCSB biologist Garrett Hardin, who had donated his copy to UCSB's library. Hardin's snarky scribblings throughout the margins told a far more interesting story than his eventual staid review. I also simply miss having the time to wander those stacks, to stumble upon a fascinating section, and to just sit down right there on the floor to leaf through volumes. If your graduate experience affords you such time now, revel in it!

David Baillargeon graduated from UCSB in 2018. After graduating, he secured a three-year postdoctoral fellowship at the University of Nottingham in the United Kingdom. In the spring of 2021, Dr. Baillargeon began teaching European History as a tenure track Assistant Professor at the University of Texas at Arlington. Below, Dr. Baillargeon shares his advice for current graduate students, as well as some fond memories of his time at UCSB!

1. Tell us a little about your time in graduate school. What was your research focus? When did you graduate?

I began graduate study at UCSB in 2011 and finished in 2018. I started the program with a master’s degree from University College London, and although I had worked on issues related to anti-slavery and abolition in Britain century while at UCL, I entered the program at UCSB really only knowing that I wanted to study the British Empire in some capacity. Ultimately, I ended up working on the history of British colonialism in Burma. Although it took a while for me to get there, my dissertation project focused on the Bawdwin silver-lead-zinc mines in the Northern Shan States of Burma. The project looks at how this mining enterprise, which was one of the world’s largest during the late colonial period, developed and operated over time, despite the fact that most agents associated with the mines – whether financiers, management, or labor – came from far beyond Britain or Burma. The project – which is now the subject of my first book manuscript - exists at the intersection between histories of colonialism, capitalism, and historical geography, and reveals how utilizing a place-based approach can reveal fresh insights about the nature of empire in the modern period.

2. Why did you decide to pursue your PhD? Why did you choose UCSB?

I finished my undergraduate degree in history from the University of Vermont in 2006 and knew fairly early that I wanted to attend graduate school. However, because I was not entirely prepared when I graduated, I did take a couple years off before receiving my MA in London, and then took another two years off prior to the PhD. I ended up attending UCSB for a few reasons. First, and because I was living in frigid Vermont when I was making my decision to attend graduate school (and I’m pretty sure it was winter at the time), the idea of moving to Santa Barbara seemed appealing, particularly since the other programs I was accepted to were in cold weather locations. Most importantly, though, was the fact that I knew I would be working with a fantastic advisor. While at UCSB, I worked with Professor Erika Rappaport, who is a leading scholar in the history of Britain and the British Empire, and who based on emails and conversations early in the process, I knew would be a great fit for my research interests and an incredible mentor. And honestly, it was one of the best decisions I ever made!

3. Any favorite memories of particular events, professors, friends?

I have many fantastic memories from my time at UCSB. Whether in the many wonderful (and funny) conversations had on the third floor of HSSB, the shared love and/or dread experienced as TAs or in reading seminars with my fellow graduate students, or in all the fun adventures that we had off campus while I was there, my time at UCSB was an enjoyable one. A few moments do stand out, though. For starters, I was very lucky to have had the opportunity to take classes with both Pekka Hämäläinen and James Brooks, the former of whom left UCSB after my first year in the graduate program. For the class with Professor Brooks, which focused on “borderlands” history and was split evenly between history and anthropology/archeology graduate students (and co-taught by Elizabeth DePalma Digeser and Stuart Tyson Smith), we visited Santa Fe and stayed at the School for Advanced Research, which was an incredible experience. I also remember going to many fantastic talks as part of Nelson Lichtenstein’s Center for Work, Labor, and Democracy, which had a significant impact on my scholarly development. Most importantly, I did also meet my wife while at UCSB (who was also a graduate student in the history department), so UCSB and Santa Barbara will always hold a special place in my heart. But as you might expect, there are too many memories to list!

4. Could you tell us a little about your career path? What is your current position? How did you end up in it?

When I finished at UCSB, I was very fortunate to secure a position as an ERC Research Associate and Research Fellow on the European Research Council-funded Cultures of Occupation in Twentieth Century Asia (COTCA) project at the University of Nottingham in the United Kingdom. As part of the position, which was a three-year postdoctoral research fellowship, I ran my own research project on the spatial history of British Malaya, with an emphasis on the history of the Malayan Emergency of the 1950s. Among the many “outcomes” of the project (publications, etc.), I created digital map and website about the spatiality of the Malayan Emergency (https://cotca.org/case-studies/the-malayan-emergency-1948-1960/), which was a great learning experience. Even more fortunately, and right before the pandemic started, I was offered and accepted a position as a tenure track Assistant Professor of European History at the University of Texas at Arlington. I started at UTA in the Spring of 2021, and that’s where I’m currently located.

5. What skills do you think your experience in graduate school provided you with, and how do you use these skills in your current career?

I learned many skills while at UCSB. While I had written many history papers and argumentative essays prior to my time there, I wouldn’t say that any of my work was especially original or research-intensive (or good) before I arrived at UCSB, and so really all of the skills I learned about being a “historian” – i.e., how to write a historiography paper, how to conduct research, how to write grant applications, how to put together a CV, how to teach, etc. - were acquired during my time there. However, I would say that the most important skills I learned at UCSB were some of the “smaller” things. Whether it was learning how to manage my time, how to think about audience in my writing (from seminar papers to fellowship/job applications to dissertations), or in how to be diplomatic and actually helpful in grading student assignments (thanks, writing program!), I learned all kinds of skills – both small and large - that have really helped me advance in my career, and that have served me well in all kinds of situations that aren’t strictly limited to research outputs.

6. What can students do throughout their time in graduate school to best prepare for the job market and get the most out of the PhD experience?

This is a tough one. Obviously, everyone knows how dire the job market situation is these days, but I do think there are some things you can do to help improve your prospects if you’re hoping to land a tenure track job. First, apply to everything! Although you might be lucky and not necessarily need funding every step of the way, it’s good to apply to fellowships as early and often as possible, as smaller fellowships can often make you look more competitive for larger fellowships, all of which will make you a better candidate on the job market. Similarly, when applying to jobs, if you think you might have an opportunity for a position but you’re really not sure you will be a great fit, apply anyways! Not only do you never know what a department is looking for in their search, but sometimes even those same departments don’t know what they’re looking for until they start receiving applications, so don’t be afraid to apply. It’s obviously always good to do your research to determine/guess what the hiring committee might be looking for, but there are many factors in a search that are often impossible to know from simply poking around online (upcoming retirements, new research centers on campus, other areas they’re hoping to hire in the future, etc.). So, my recommendation is that even if you’re not sure it’s a perfect fit, apply anyways.

7. If you could share any piece of advice with graduate students who are about to enter the job market, what would it be?

Honestly, I never thought I’d live in the UK again after I finished the PhD, but going to Nottingham and having that time and space to research and publish was a game changer for me. So, above all else, I’d recommend keeping an open mind and being as flexible as possible!

8. What was your favorite spot on UCSB’s campus?

I very much miss going for long walks on the bluffs over by family housing with my dog Finch. But if that doesn’t count, then I’d go with the racquetball courts at the Rec Center.

Kathryn Statler is a professor of History at the University of San Diego. She is one of the founding members of the CCWS (initially named COWHIG—the Cold War History Working Group) and graduated from UCSB in 1999. In 2007 she published her book, Replacing France: The Origins of American Intervention in Vietnam. Below, Dr. Statler shares her advice for current graduate students, as well as some fond memories of her time at UCSB!

1. Tell us a little about your time in graduate school. What was your research focus? When did you graduate?

My focus in graduate school was on how the Franco-American alliance affected both U.S. and French policy in Vietnam during the 1950s. I became fascinated with how the United States replaced France in Vietnam as the major western power after the 1954 Geneva Conference. The United States systematically took over military, political, diplomatic, economic, cultural, and educational affairs, slowly but inexorably reducing the French presence in Vietnam. Ultimately, I published a book, Replacing France: The Origins of American Intervention in Vietnam, on the subject. I graduated in 1999.

2. Why did you decide to pursue your PhD? Why did you choose UCSB?

I knew I wanted to pursue an M.A. my senior year of college but was not sure about the Ph.D. I also took a class with the then brand new Assistant Professor in U.S. Foreign Relations, Fredrik Logevall, and was so impressed I wanted to work with him. So, I entered the combined MA/Ph.D. program, figuring I could stop after receiving the MA.  My first day as a teaching assistant my second year of graduate school sealed the deal.  I remember walking out of the class and being 100% sure that was what I wanted to do with my life.  I still feel the same way.

3. Can you tell us a little bit about your experience with UCSB’s Center for Cold War Studies (or COWHIG)? Any favorite memories of particular events, professors, friends?

I was one of the founding members of COWHIG, the brainchild of Fredrik Logevall and Toshi Hasegawa.  I loved all the student presentations, guest speakers, and conferences that COWHIG hosted.  One of my favorite memories was watching Andy Johns and Ken Osgood work overtime to organize the annual graduate student conference. My other favorite memory is when Kimber Quinney graciously agreed to read my research paper for me in front of COWHIG faculty and grad students (I was the UCSB teaching assistant for the UCDC program that quarter, so no zoom in the 1990s).  She then had to field questions from the audience on my research. I owe you Kim.

4. Could you tell us a little about your career path? What is your current position? How did you end up in it?

I had the most fortuitous career path of any graduate student in the history of the world, so my experience is a definite outlier. I went straight from undergrad to graduate student at UCSB, and then straight from grad student to Assistant Professor at USD where I am now a full professor.  I prepared, of course, but honestly, I attribute this path primarily to good luck.

5. What skills do you think your experience in graduate school provided you with, and how do you utilize these skills in your current career?

Well, grad school taught me to digest, synthesize, and prioritize immense amounts of information, and then to be able to explain it in a way that makes sense to others.  I use that skill every second of every day.

6. What can students do throughout their time in graduate school to best prepare for the job market and get the most out of the PhD experience?

As far as preparing for the job market, three things: 1. Publish an article.  Even if you are not ready to present your brilliant research to the world, you need to publish it anyway; 2. Polish your teaching. You should have a couple of lectures in the bag and you should have multiple syllabi ready to go that address the courses being offered at the universities you are applying to; 3. Do your research on the institutions. Most departments these days are looking for people who actually want to be there. You should research the faculty and their research (not exhaustively but do your homework) and the culture of the institution and then speak to how you are the perfect fit.

For me, I got the most out of my Ph.D. experience by working with my fellow grad students and the professors to build a sense of community. We created shared knowledge but we also created a group of people genuinely interested in each other’s successes and failures.   

7. If you could share any piece of advice with graduate students who are about to enter the job market, what would it be?

Someone has to get the job, it might as well be you. What I mean is that if you can make it into the top 20 finalists, your odds are now 1 in 20, and if you make it to the top 3, well, funny things happen.  The other two candidates accept job offers elsewhere, or decline the job offer.  Who knows?  Not trying in the first place is the worst thing you can do.

8. What was your favorite spot on UCSB’s campus?

Well, my favorite spot near UCSB was Sands Beach. Right as I went through the gate leading to the beach I would always pause to appreciate the fact that I got to go to school at UCSB.  On campus, I would probably have to say the conference room on the 6th floor of HSSB, the views are awesome, and even though I was terrified pretty much every time I was in that room presenting my research to faculty and other graduate students, the views are still awesome.