By Eileen Faulkenberry

I recently facilitated a session on “Overcoming Imposter Syndrome” for a group of incoming Freshmen STEM majors. While preparing for the presentation, I found myself doubting my ability to effectively lead the conversation. Surely there was someone else more qualified. I began to think through who else might be “qualified” to lead this discussion. This was quickly followed with the thought that my doubts simply reinforced the idea that I am actually quite well-qualified to lead this session. So, I began to think through my journey in academia, through which Imposter Syndrome has been a frequent companion, to provide a first-hand account along with tips and tricks I have learned along the way to help these freshmen at the start of their journey.

As a high school student, I can vividly remember looking up to the seniors as the ones who had it all together. I couldn’t wait until I was a senior so I would be “grown up” and have the confidence and abilities they all seemed to have. I was very disappointed when I became a senior and realized that magic had not occurred overnight. I didn’t have it all together. I had more questions than answers. I didn’t feel “grown up.” In fact, I felt quite the opposite. I was not at all ready to launch into the world of adulthood.

In graduate school, I spent many days wondering if today was the day everyone figured out that I was not as capable as my professors and colleagues seemed to think I was. I was sure that I would be discovered to be a fraud and invited to leave. Until then, I would just keep my head down, do my work, and wait.

It wasn’t until I was in my first tenure-track position that I had a name for these feelings, and could identify them as imposter syndrome – the inability to believe that one’s success is deserved or has been legitimately achieved as a result of one’s own efforts or skills. Being able to name the feelings of inadequacy didn’t eliminate them. I still experienced many days filled with doubt. However, I was able to more easily recognize when imposter syndrome was rearing its head and combat it with intentional, positive self-talk.

As a young assistant professor, I would see the more experienced faculty as the “grown-ups” in the room, looking to them for guidance and leadership. I didn’t see myself in that role. As I progressed through tenure and promotion, balancing teaching, research, and service, becoming a mother, and trying to find work-life balance, I was continuously feeling as if I were in a wave pool where the water level was just below my chin, even when I was standing on my tiptoes. Sometimes the waves would crash over my head, leaving me scrambling to find my footing again. I never really expected that others would be feeling the same way. I didn’t want to talk to the more experienced faculty about my feelings of inadequacy, because I didn’t want to let them know that I didn’t have it all together, believing they would think less of me. Once again, I found myself keeping my head down, doing my work, and hoping for the best.
I wish now that I had found a trusted mentor with whom I could share these (very normal) feelings. I would have realized that the more experienced faculty also struggled with these same thoughts. I think every faculty member has experienced a crisis of confidence at least once in their career. I realize we NEED to talk about these experiences to help those coming after us. They need to see that it is ok to struggle. It is ok to have doubts. It is ok to make mistakes, as long as we learn from them and use them to become better. I now know that I need  to let these incoming freshmen STEM majors know how to recognize and address imposter syndrome, to prepare them for its occurrence, and to let them see how common it is.

After 20 years in higher education, I realize that I am now the “grown-up.” I still don’t feel very grown-up, but I realize that I have experienced many things that give me a different perspective than when I began so many years ago. I have navigated tenure and promotion (twice), job searches (twice), hostile work environments, supportive colleagues, administrative roles, raising a family, surviving a pandemic, caring for aging parents, and so many other things. It is time to fully embrace the responsibility that we have to the younger generations.

Thus, I found myself in front of a group of bright-eyed young minds telling them “I almost wasn’t going to be here with you today. I almost didn’t apply for the administrative role I now find myself in that gives me the opportunity to be here with you today. I almost scrapped the whole topic of discussion today. But… it is important that you know… these feelings have a name, and more importantly, they can be overcome.”

Dr. Eileen Faulkenberry is a Professor of Mathematics and Associate Dean for the College of Science and Mathematics at Tarleton State University. Her research interests are in mathematics education and she has received over $3.5 million in grants to provide professional development for in-service and preservice teachers. She is currently serving as the Chair of the Texas Section and will begin her term as Chair-elect of the MKT SIGMAA in January. In addition, she serves on the board for the Conference for the Advancement of Mathematics Teaching (CAMT). Dr. Faulkenberry is married to an academic (whom she met at an MAA meeting many, many years ago), and is the mother of three children.