How To Crack the Grad Code: A Survival Guide. Book Review of “Making the Most of Graduate School: A Practical Guidebook for Students in Applied Linguistics, Education, and TESOL”
Monica Martinelli, University of Connecticut, Storrs, USA
Ever wondered why academia feels like an exclusive club with an almost impenetrable entrance? There’s a reason it’s often referred to as “the ivory tower”—a world that’s tough to navigate and seemingly reserved for a select few. In a landscape where the quick availability of information doesn’t always equate to reliability, and even academic advisors can leave graduate students searching for answers, a growing niche of academic consultants has emerged to fill the gap. Kessler and Casal’s (2024) Making the Most of Graduate School: A Practical Guidebook for Students in Applied Linguistics, Education, and TESOL is one such example, offering a thought-provoking exploration of how academia’s hidden strategies shape the way we learn, grow, and succeed.
To Plonsky (2020) the fact that many of the practices and strategies surrounding the academic system are “often shrouded in mystery and, occasionally, misinformation” (p. 2) called for guidance beyond what is typically offered by academic advisors. Books like his Professional Development in Applied Linguistics (2020), Kelsky’s (2015) The Professor Is In, and even the platform ProfHacker have taken on this task. Emerging from this fertile research field, Kessler and Casal’s (2024) aim to provide practical advice on “the day-to-day activities of being a graduate student” (p. 99).
As a female first-generation international PhD student in Applied Linguistics myself, I wish Kessler and Casal’s book had been published eight years ago, at the start of my M.A. It would have spared me many headaches. I emphasize all three components—female, first-generation, and international—here because (1) research has suggested that women are more likely to experience feelings of inadequacy and heightened episodes of imposter syndrome (Cowie et al., 2018), which is central to the second chapter of the book; (2) the guide provides valuable insights into the American academic system, which can be a game-changer for anyone unfamiliar with it; and (3) each chapter includes stories from current M.A. and Ph.D. international students, helping readers feel less lonely by underscoring the commonality of the challenges encountered in graduate school.
The truth is that, graduate school can be fun. We will likely make lifelong friends, experience a new culture depending on where we study, and have the opportunity to focus on what we’re passionate about (and, even get paid for it, if we’re lucky). However, this comes with the considerable challenge of balancing deadlines, managing work-life balance (the ever-daunting graduate student dilemma: work, sleep, exercise, or have a social life?), and dealing with imposter syndrome, competitiveness, the “publish-or-perish” mentality, and rejection—just to name a few.
Most existing books on graduate student professional development (PD) tend to focus on transitioning into full-time academic posts or developing specific skills. Published by Plonsky’s experimental open-scholarship press, Applied Linguistics Press (ALP), and serving as a “prequel” to his Professional Development in Applied Linguistics (2020)—an edited collection addressing practical professional development issues such as writing convincing cover letters, reviewing academic manuscripts, or writing for non-academic audiences—Kessler and Casal’s book fills an important gap. Specifically, it is dedicated to new graduate students and provides “helpful advice, relatable stories, and tips on how to deal with different situations that are likely to arise during the first year of most graduate school programs, along with guidance on how to succeed” (p. 2).
The seven content chapters of the book are organized in a linear progression, from personal topics to public and program-related issues. They cover imposter syndrome (Chapter 2), achieving work-life balance (Chapter 3), defining research, teaching, and professional interests (Chapter 4), establishing relationships with academic advisors and networking with colleagues (Chapters 5 and 6), and coping with crises, failure, and rejection (Chapters 7 and 8). The introduction and conclusion tie everything together.
One of the incredible novelties of this book is its recognition of the importance of diverse graduate students’ stories and perspectives, particularly in Applied Linguistics, TESOL, and Education. These perspectives are captured in boxes titled “Personal Reflections: Stories from Current Graduate Students” in each chapter. Not only does this approach make the book engaging and accessible, but it also enhances its relatability. Although it is specifically targeted at graduate students in the said disciplines, in fact, the guidance within is invaluable for anyone pursuing an academic career in the Humanities or STEM fields.
While holistically useful, this book is particularly successful at dismantling three long-standing academic myths that are as solid as they are detrimental, especially to fresh graduates.
Myth #1: You need to read everything.
As I set out to read and review this book, the following suggestion became crucial to me: pay close attention to the amount of time you spend with unpredictable tasks such as journal reviews/revisions, as they can become “major time sinks” (Kessler & Casal, 2024, p. 25). As I began to ask myself if I should have spent more time on this review, in fact, I found relief by learning that even individuals as successful as Albert Einstein or Steve Jobs had the habit of scheduling moments of both “me time” and “no time” (Kotler, 2021, p. 26), deliberately disconnecting from work to recharge. This kind of knowledge, along with Tip #2 at the end of chapter 3—“Know what you must read in-full versus what you can skim” (p. 31)—would have been particularly useful in my first years, when I thought I needed to read each book on my course reading list from beginning to end.
Myth #2: Academic jobs are the only jobs.
Kessler and Casal’s acknowledgment that the expectations of doctoral programs are shifting away from tenure-track faculty positions toward non-academic careers is especially relevant in today’s academic landscape, marked by both an oversupply of doctoral students and a shortage of academic positions, particularly in the Humanities. In light of this, they argued that networking and relationship-building are vital for career success and survival. However, they also pointed out that these strategies “often receive little-to-no attention in many graduate programs” (p. 60), especially in fields like TESOL, Applied Linguistics, and Education, despite their importance in both academic and non-academic career paths.
They wisely discussed networking and skill diversification, offering practical suggestions such as tutoring at university writing centers, seeking out teaching assistant opportunities at different institutions, or looking for adjunct positions at local community colleges. In fact, as they pointed out, “gaining teaching experience is often a key component in successfully securing a job” (p. 41). However, it’s important to note that the idea that you can “create your own opportunities (and be paid for them!)” (p. 43) may not be true for international students, who often face visa restrictions on their ability to work outside of their sponsoring institution, putting them at a distinct disadvantage in the job market. The inequality faced by international students—particularly in countries like the U.S., where regulations can vary by state or institution—is not something a book can easily address. Still, it would have been insightful to further explore how international students navigate these barriers, particularly in terms of finding financial support and relevant work experience, without resorting to unpaid positions with journals, programs, or professors.
A significant part of the book is dedicated to other kinds of relationship-building and networking skills, such as the importance of having friends and what the author called “confidants” (p. 61), keeping your ego in check, “engaging in critical self-reflection” (p. 96) or being kind to others to have more chances of being invited to social opportunities and collaborations (Chapter 9). However, similarly to what is done on page 53 where Kessler and Casal suggested readers use Lovitts’ (2008) model for creative performance, it would have been useful to provide a section with practical guiding questions, if not activities, to guide students in understanding their goals and establishing priorities both when choosing an advisor and when taking personal initiative on how to create opportunities for oneself.
Myth #3: Adults—and academics—don’t cry.
While some emotional reactions, such as kindness, humility, and empathy, may come naturally, others—especially the unpleasant feelings associated with failed academic expectations (including factors such as a lack of departmental financial support, teaching or lab tasks that leave insufficient time for personal research, limited institutional mental health resources, a lack of diversity and inclusion, and inadequate career preparation, among others), negative feedback, and rejection—can be difficult to manage. New graduate students in particular often don’t know what to expect from their advisors’ mentorship, and this lack of preparation can be disorienting. This was also the case for me, and I would have been grateful for Kessler and Casal’s guidance along the way.
I vividly recall approaching my advisor in my third year to inquire about available scholarships and grants after realizing I needed financial support. My advisor, slightly surprised by the question, explained that while they could point me in the right direction or add me to a listserv, I needed to take the initiative to research and organize these opportunities myself—perhaps in a Google Doc or Word file. At the time, this was one of the first instances in which I was, admittedly, on the verge of tears. However, to echo Kessler and Casal, advisors are not “your parent or some sort of agent who makes decisions for you” (p. 52), and recognizing this distinction is crucial for establishing a respectful and productive relationship. This understanding also underscores the importance of doing your own research before deciding if an advisor is the right fit for you. As Schlosser and Gelso (2001) emphasized, advisors should be perceived as “(1) an expert, (2) attractive (in terms of their supervisory style), and (3) trustworthy” (p. 50). By the same token, they must view you as someone worth investing their time in—reliable, somewhat independent, and able to take initiative. This includes, for example, seeking out your own publishing and presenting opportunities, taking the lead in your teaching role or—like me—finding your own financial support. However, keep in mind that with initiative comes feedback, and with feedback, inevitably, comes yet another potential reason to reach for the tissues.
Learning how to handle feedback—especially negative feedback—is just as essential to your growth as learning to take your own initiative. Kessler and Casal wisely suggested that feedback, especially on works submitted for publication, can be viewed as “an invitation to a conversation [because] you are almost always free to ask” (p. 95). However, certain forms of rejection—such as job rejections, unfavorable teaching evaluations from students, or negative anonymous reviews on websites like RateMyProfessor—are much harder to cope with, as they often lack clarity or opportunities for follow-up. These instances are not extensively discussed in the book, but Kessler and Casal’s invitation to document recurring patterns in the feedback we receive over time —whether from students, professors, or conference reviewers—still proves a helpful strategy to address them. The idea is that repeated concerns likely point to areas in need of improvement. While this advice may seem obvious, it’s surprisingly difficult to focus on what we can control and change rather than blaming external factors. For instance, as a European student, I struggled to adjust to my students’ requests for rubrics, study guides, and reminders—things that were rarely offered in the educational system I grew up in. The book also discusses how our reactions to feedback shape how we, as educators, give feedback—emphasizing transparency, respect, and honesty. This made me wonder how the authors would address preparing graduate students to be instructors in today’s rapidly changing academic landscape, where challenges like AI-assisted writing (e.g., ChatGPT) are increasingly relevant. The book doesn’t directly tackle this, though this omission may be because such matters are usually handled differently by individual colleges’ and departments’ policies on plagiarism.
After all, one of the greatest strengths of this book is that it does not aim to help graduate students succeed in specific academic areas but to deliver its overarching message: graduate school is not a solo endeavor. While the challenges may seem “unique, and in some cases, overly stressful and insurmountable” (p. 104), the reality is that graduate school is an experience shared by many, and with the right tools and perspective, it can be both manageable and enjoyable. In conclusion, Making the Most of Graduate School: A Practical Guidebook for Students in Applied Linguistics, Education, and TESOL provides valuable insights to overcome common challenges—such as the belief that you must read and know everything, attain a perfect work-life balance, that academic jobs are the only viable career path, and that academics don’t experience emotional struggles—which are all grounded in the realities that many of us face. The authors’ emphasis on networking, skill diversification, and emotional resilience is especially timely, given the increasing competitiveness of academic and professional environments. However, the book leaves room for further exploration, especially in terms of giving more concrete guidance to address the unique struggles faced by international students who often find themselves navigating additional institutional barriers and visa restrictions, as well as in light of the shifting intersection of technology and academia.
References
Cowie, M. E., Nealis, L. J., Sherry, S. B., Hewitt, P. L., & Flett, G. L. (2018). Perfectionism and academic difficulties in graduate students: Testing incremental prediction and gender moderation. Personality and Individual Differences, 123, 223–228. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.paid.2017.11.027
Kessler, M., & Casal, J. E. (2024). Making the most of graduate school: A practical guidebook for students in applied linguistics, education, and TESOL. Applied Linguistics Press. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1GZNREqGBwcVadfWi-Xd8TEFk3Eir4obK/view
Kelsky, K. (2015). The professor is in: The essential guide to turning your Ph.D. into a job. Crown.
Kotler, S. (2021). The art of impossible: A peak performance primer. Harper.
Lovitts, B. E. (2008). The transition to independent research: Who makes it, who doesn’t, and why. The Journal of Higher Education, 79(3), 296–325. https://doi.org/10.1080/00221546.2008.11772100
Plonsky, L. (Ed.). (2020). Professional development in applied linguistics: A guide to success for graduate students and early career faculty. John Benjamins. https://doi.org/10.1075/z.229 Top of FormTop of FormBottom of Form
Schlosser, L. Z., & Gelso, C. J. (2001). Measuring the working alliance in advisor-advisee relationships in graduate school. Journal of Counseling Psychology, 48(2), 157–167. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-0167.48.2.157
Monica Martinelli is a PhD student in Applied Linguistics and a Graduate Assistant in Italian, Cognitive Science, and Education at the University of Connecticut, where she is also a fellow in the TEAM-Terra Training Program for Socio-environmental Justice.