Reflections on My Three-Year Graduation Anniversary, for my Academic Journey, and as a Woman of Color in Academia…
“Great spirits always encounter violent opposition from mediocre minds.” – Albert Einstein
Dear Fellow Warrior,
I write this for Me, myself, and I. And all those who felt invisible in Academia, and deserved better. Three years after walking that stage, I’m not just reflecting, I am reclaiming. This isn’t just an ongoing moment of self-empowerment and celebration. It’s a declaration.
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This week, Monday, May 19, was my 3-year anniversary since I walked across the stage at my School graduation ceremony. As I looked back at the memories that have resurfaced on Facebook, I took a moment to reflect.
I wanted to make more progress on the academic front, as I try every day. After sending more job applications, I refined a script for my YouTube video that I will be recording, which tells my story and makes my case for the 2025-2026 Academic job market. I hope to share it with you soon.
All this felt like a reclamation.
For a moment, I needed to pause and reflect on that day three years ago, my progress, and where I am heading.
I am glad I started this year at the APSA Teaching and Learning conference, presenting on DEI and Belonging in Academia, which I called, “Reclaiming the B in DEI: the Bridge to Belonging in Academia.” Right after my first campus visit in a second round interview, which was an exhilarating and rewarding experience.
Reflecting on this moment, at my school graduation and overall, I continue to have faith that time will heal things. Because healing continues to be necessary. And I hope there will come a day when I can be able to look at my graduation photos and memories and not remember what I was missing, what I didn’t have that day, who wasn’t there, and rather what I did have, and who was there for me even in spirit. A time when I wouldn’t focus so much on the traumas and valid hurt and pain I felt that was never resolved or properly processed, but I remember the moment that I honored for myself.
I won’t remember feeling sad, as I saw so many people with their families and friends cheering for them in that massive auditorium, after always celebrating everyone else. I won’t remember feeling guilty for my sadness because at least 3 loved ones were there for me during the doctoral hooding months before. I won’t remember being “othered” and blamed for my challenges and traumas of that time by people who had it better than me. I won’t remember people not willing to understand the layers of reasons on why it was a special, important moment for me…
And I will remember that I showed up there for myself. And I will never be ashamed of that. I will never be ashamed of sharing the pictures online, sharing my academic journey from the beginning to present day, publicly, proudly, boldly, and honestly. In fact, it should be seen as a privilege for those who witnessed it.
Time can heal. And it is healing Alhumdullilah. You forgive those who deserve forgiveness first and even without being heard, but that’s the thing, it is harder to forgive when you are never heard, when you are always silenced, or worse, when you always so misunderstood.
But I showed up for myself. And I refused to dim my light. Even to this day.
I recently shared a clip of a video from Oprah Winfrey talking about embracing the idea of being “full of ourselves.”
Every woman of color who has experienced that look, that energy, that “who does she think she is”, the “how dare she,” the “she’s so full of herself” recognizes it whenever she gallantly walks into the room, with all of her soul, beauty, and light.
I felt it that day from faculty and administrators as I walked past them on the stage with my name called. You get that fake diploma, but it was nice that they actually pronounced my full name almost correctly, and I received a genuine hug from a favorite professor.
I was grateful that despite the glares I got from others sitting on the stage, I saw the nods and sincere smiles from the two male members of my Committee, that believed in the research I was doing. And that was precious enough for me. That’s really what I hope to always remember about that moment, when the pain subsides.
When I am finally able to make all of the hard work count towards a well-deserved next opportunity…
The administration made it clear they had their favorites. It wasn’t me, the one who raised concerns about a professor for making Islamophobic and racist comments to me, telling me to “forget my Muslim identity” and that “Palestinian children are trash,” raising the concerns only after he falsely reported me to campus police for a disagreement regarding my grade, telling them he was afraid of me, like so many white people do when they have a disagreement with people of color.
This was in the middle of my PhD program, and I was forced to present a rebuttal in front of the Office of Student Misconduct. I was found not-responsible, and not guilty, but the shameless school administration did nothing for retributions against that racist Professor and never informed that Professor either that I was exonerated. Ironically, he was let off the hook for many transgressions against multiple students, including me, and even promoted as a Director of a regional program at that school in 2020.
I also asked for more support through the NSF process, or more support for transcriptions for completing over 178 interviews, or some understanding of the need to keep my desk space while I finished my coding of those transcriptions (which took 6-8 months unnecessarily), considering my documented disabilities with the school.
I learned that the reason they gave for not allowing me to keep my space for just a little longer was “favoritism” when they obviously would favor other students for many things, including desk space, they would profile others, recognize certain students over others for conference organization, and fellowship wins.
I have had my own experience of being invisibilized. Even at that graduation ceremony. I was nominated for the dissertation award, and I asked about the process, never hearing back from the school, and only finding out at that graduation ceremony that I didn’t win, by seeing two male students stand up to be recognized.
On top of that, when the school recognized a Faculty Scholar for funding the International Conflict Resolution scholarship, talking about 6 Fellowship winners, unlike the other students who were recognized for the other awards, I was not asked to stand up as the only Fellowship recipient present at the graduation. I have always witnessed students who have won these fellowships be recognized in award ceremonies, especially if they are present in the room. I was dismissed.
That’s the thing, we are either invisibilized or hypervisibilized as women of color and people of marginalized backgrounds if we do anything that may “color outside the lines.”
These things are actually very important. Because they add up and are connected to the larger DEI challenges.
It isn’t the bitterness of a woman of color, it is the accumulation of inequity. It is a woman of color seeing how others are treated right before her eyes, and wondering why she was treated differently and unfairly.
And as always, when she raises those concerns, she is the villain.
I experienced racism, sexism, academic bullying, sexual harassment, discrimination, administrative hurdles and gaslighting, evil eye, mental health challenges, DEI challenges, all while pursuing a very difficult topic of study, with a very difficult methodological framework, in a very complex region of the world, through extremely challenging circumstances. I did this while holding a “political inconvenient” identity, during a global health crisis.
So yes, I walked across that stage, feeling and knowing with confidence that some administrators and faculty members didn’t like that I was there. I wanted to be there, even if other PhDs didn’t feel it important to attend their school graduation.
But I showed up anyway. I walked anyway. For myself. Regardless of the imposter syndrome, the “belonging uncertainty,” the DEI challenges, the disrespect, I deserved to be there. I deserved to walk on that stage. I deserved to honor myself.
I know that what I shared on social media, celebrating the moment for myself, must have generated a lot of jealousy sadly… as it always does when a woman honors and celebrates herself. Even when I tried to explain why you shouldn’t be jealous, and rather inspired by a woman taking the spotlight, there were and will always be some people who feel threatened or resentful.
That is their burden to carry, not mine. But it is still harmful.
It will always shock me that it persists, even after knowing that I overcame, I survived, and I achieved my dreams despite all that adversity.
And I allowed that to hurt me and even at times make me feel guilt for celebrating because others could not get out of their own minds to honor someone else for just one tiny moment.
I hope one day I can look back without guilt for celebrating myself. Without shame for feeling I deserved better then, and still deserve better now… And to appreciate myself in the fullest, for myself, even if others did not think it was worthy of an acknowledgement.
A day when I wouldn’t allow that pain to hurt me anymore. My pain was and remains valid and I am proud that I have stayed resilient through it.
My healing will take time. And that’s okay. And it should be totally understandable. I called it my PhD Wedding because it was that important to me. For all the reasons above and more. It will take time with respect to how things have gone, with my academic journey, the setbacks that continued to follow, and it hurts that sharing and expressing this pain, for trying to heal, trying to fight through the solitude, has only punished me more and led to further alienation and hurt. This is precisely how the stigma works in silencing people and making them walk in their pain alone.
There are women who choose silence through all of this. But the women who desire to be heard should be heard without retributions.
It was a different time, and that is why time heals.
Because witnessing the students today, for sacrificing their celebratory moments for the people of Gaza, has been humbling for me. Even as it may be easier when you are with community and support during a crisis moment. The crisis moment I had gone through was the Pandemic and the aftermath of broken relationships and connections through a politically charged climate.
They still have all of that, plus the Gaza Genocide. I hold that in perspective, but due to my prolonged transition post-Graduation, still in the market, as a Palestine supporter, I too am with them in a way, it is all still fresh, regardless of the time passed. And I can imagine that I am not the only graduate from the Pandemic times, still navigating those hurdles on top of the DEI challenges from school, and the failed neoliberal efforts post-graduation, and on top of this big one now.
This is not to make me feel bad for wanting more for myself, this just makes me realize how much I want to be with the students.
How much I want to remain connected to Academia. I know I am a great mentor, a great colleague, and a great collaborator. I am an Academic. I always have been. And I deserve an opportunity to prove it.
My truth, my story, and my pain doesn’t make me any less valuable, doesn’t make my research any less credible, doesn’t make me any less of an asset.
And None of this makes me selfish, it makes me human. It makes me see the humanity within myself that others cannot see.
But I know now, more than ever before, that it is politics that can prevent you from getting those opportunities. Politics often gatekeep opportunities from those who deserve them. And I stayed true to myself, to my story, to all my identity factors, in almost every way.
My courage and integrity will always be intact.
As Oprah says, if this means I am full of myself…so be it.
Because I know I was that beautiful, sexy, ethnic, long-nosed, loud-voiced, shy extrovert, Pakistani American Muslim woman, with invisible disabilities, an imposter syndrome and a slight stutter in my voice.
I walked into neoliberal and conservative white-dominated spaces where people turned silent, glared, rolled their eyes, just seeing my beauty, elegance, and my warm smile, and my desire to connect.
And the bullying in grad school was worse than high school.
It feels so empowering and liberating to be able to name the negative forces: the bullying, the racism, the evil eyes, the jealousy, the Islamophobia. The social exclusion, the harm. Because no, it is not something you are making up in your head. This exists.
All of these forces are real, embedded within the design of the social structures, they are there to harm and limit you from harnessing your greatest potential. They were designed to diminish you…..Anyone who questions the status quo simply by existing and persisting.
The evil eye…. Jealousy, of all kinds, is a corrosive force, and it is deeply painful and disheartening when it comes from people you once trusted, who you thought were rooting for you. It is so painful that it can be paralyzing.
People don’t share their journeys and accomplishments online because they know those forces exist, but they contribute in the normalization of those behaviors when they participate in it. They contribute to the very harm we suffer from.
This harms DEI efforts. It harms the fight to decolonize pedagogy. It is part of the culture that reinforces narrow epistemic norms that marginalize underrepresented voices and uphold dominant frameworks of knowing, making it harder to create truly inclusive and liberal learning spaces.
And women of color face the brunt of this challenge.
The world can deny you, your identity, your education, your hard work, no matter how many receipts you show, because you are not “politically convenient” for them. I know that firsthand now. The world may deny me. People and structures may ignore my voice.
The world attempted to crush me, but it did not succeed. And it will not going forward.
I take responsibility for how the hate affected me, absolutely. I see how much I let it impact me and my dreams and my goals. I continue to fight it today.
But I also must extend compassion to myself. I was vulnerable, given limited support, and hurting. I was in fight mode and survival mode. But I still moved forward. Still tried. Still trying…
I must respect myself, and acknowledge the injustice. Life is not fair, but it doesn’t mean we just let it be unfair, that we don’t keep doing what we can with what we can control. And especially to make it better for others. I cannot possibly be the only woman of color who has experienced these kinds of challenges. I know because I did the research and I have seen the data.
Over the years I have literally watched men who copied ideas from me, men who transgressed against me land post docs, professorships, and nice jobs, while I struggled with “imposter syndrome” that originated from systemic forces, biases, and injustices. It is the result of environments not built to hold us. And yet, we persist.
Imposter syndrome is never your fault. DEI experts have emphasized this, especially for women of color. This trauma does not in any way disqualify us from opportunities. It makes us even more ahead of others in ways liberal academia has not caught up with yet.
So yeah I had every right to celebrate, honor myself, and I still have that reason today… I have good reason to be “full of myself” in this moment as someone who stayed resilient and will never give up for the opportunity that I deserve.
No, I never thought I was better than anyone, because I dared to honor myself, because I dared to be proud of my accomplishments, because I achieved a dream that I once thought was an impossible dream for me, because of my ailments.
People who chose to be jealous instead of inspired by my academic journey and celebration of milestones through my invisibility…those who responded with jealousy instead of collaboration ultimately lost the chance to create something beautiful with me.
There is nothing wrong with a woman honoring herself. Being “full of herself” isn’t arrogance….it’s reclamation.
And I name the harm not to dwell, but to be free.
I always say this. Celebrate others. Cheer for others. Do not compare your journey with others. Do not fall in that comparison and competition trap. You are better than that.
The truth is people won’t be jealous of the person who is on top of the mountain, who got there with all the privileges in the world given to them, they would be jealous of the person who has the most disadvantages, who is struggling, who is fighting, and trying to climb up the mountain.
The underdog isn’t resented for making it to the top; they’re resented for daring to try. The world hates those who rise without permission.
I don’t think people realize how difficult it is to do advanced research and scholarship when people and systems are actively pulling you down because of your identity.
And I’ve stood in the light even when it hurt. I took the mic even when my voice shook.
Women of color in academia often hold and carry this pain alone. I have carried mine alone. But it has fueled me. Because everyone who doubted me only added to my determination. And this determination, this fire, is even greater to this day.
I don’t control others’ emotions and reactions. But I know I never deserved it. And yes, getting my PhD was a form of vindication.
Walking across that stage in my jumkey with a big smile on my face was a powerful moment for me, even when I was alone.
Although my academic trajectory didn’t follow a conventional arc after my PhD, what I’ve built in the years since has been nothing short of radical perseverance. I’ve developed a strong academic portfolio, put in a myriad of applications, had strong interviews and demonstrations, designed an active original research agenda, published and have more manuscripts in progress than many on the tenure track. I launched two deeply meaningful newsletters and I’ve continued to show up: to pitch, to write, to speak, to protest, to paint, to present, to teach, even when the world wasn’t always watching.
And I’ve pushed forward a message of mental health, belonging, and resistance in a time that often prefers silence. Through all of the structural barriers, and personal and professional adversity, I kept going. Not perfectly, but powerfully.
This moment, this anniversary, is not a delayed celebration. It’s a declaration that I have not perished. I am just beginning to emerge.
And now, with recent changes in my life, I have come to wonder if things would have been different had I worn the hijab, my true identity that always belonged to me, throughout my entire higher education. I remember experimenting with it during some Ramadans and moments of coursework. Prejudice comes in many forms, even from those who should know better.
The academic market is tough, but it is always evolving. And so am I. And I am still here. My story is still unfolding. My identity is still evolving, in the best of ways. And I trust that Allah (swt) is not done with me yet.
Because I am not behind. I am arriving.
A prayer I recited often when I was near the Holy Kaabah and in Madinah:
“Allahumma yassir li amri waftah li baban min fadlik. Innaka ‘ala kulli shay’in qadeer.” (Oh Allah, ease my affairs and open a door for me from Your bounty. Indeed, You are capable of all things.)
I believe in myself. I know I deserve better. I was not born to be small. I was not born to be silent. I was not created to be digestible and agreeable and convenient. I do not exist to be validated by institutions that have never known how to see people like me.
I am visible, even when ignored. I am valid, even when unsupported. I am worthy, even when overlooked. My voice matters. My work matters. I am building what they tried to gatekeep.
I am not invisible. I am becoming undeniable.
I will continue to show up, call myself by my well-earned title, honor myself, and take up space. Whether or not people are behind me, I am and must continue to be behind myself.
9 times out of 10, the underdog wins. Because she’s hungry, she’s sincere, and she never gives up.
Fall seven times, get up eight.
My favorite number has always been 9.
I trust the process, no matter how merciless time may be. I trust that Allah (swt) has written something great for me. Because Greatness is the path toward Allah.
And I am here. I am still here. And as long as I am still breathing, I am not going anywhere.
Labaik Allahumma Labaik.
Thank you for reading.
In Solidarity, Peace, Warmth, and Blessings
Your Sister, Dr. Elsa Talat Khwaja, PhD
Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was Looking for a Sword.” – Atticus
“All your scholarship would be in vain if at the same time you do not build your character and attain mastery over your thoughts and your actions.” – Mahatma Gandhi.
“You are only free when you realize you belong no place – you belong every place – no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great.” – Dr. Maya Angelou
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Evil eye Supplication: A’udhu bi kalimaa ti-llaahi taam-maati min sharri ma khalaq. “I seek protection in the perfect words of Allah from every evil that has been created.”
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