My sincerest acknowledgments

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single PhD thesis, in possession of a respectable number of pages, will never be read in its entirety. However diligently written, only one chapter will truly be read by all: the acknowledgements. 

I’m just finishing with mine, and I think I've written them all: my supervisors (for bearing my breakdowns), my committee (for enduring 300 pages), and friends and family (for more breakdowns). I had to be brief: I couldn’t devote 50 pages to this alone.

It's for the best. If I had more space, the list would be so long. It would include even the smallest contributions to this journey of mine: fleeting, casual encounters that somehow stayed with me. 

I can think of a few, at least. 

Dear PhD of the post-doc of the ex-PhD of my main supervisor (my academic… cousin?). Thank you for explaining at my first conference that I could skip some sessions. It was the permission slip that I learned all too well: conferences became my favourite thing.

Dear academic publishers, thank you for showing me the shameful digits it costs to publish my papers. I don't think anyone else has ever made me feel like my words were this precious.

Dear ginger cat of the student house where I wrote my first paper, thank you for distracting me every half hour. Those useless breaks kept me writing. 

Dear printers of BBG, thank you for choosing the moments of urgent deadlines to become defective. You taught me the true resilience of desperation. 

Dear postman of my first house, thank you for telling me my "danjewel" sounded Dutch. I promptly started a language course that had no purpose other than to embarrass me, but it was excellent practice to explain myself while feeling uncomfortable.

Dear Dutch universities, thank you for considering PhDs as employees. You saved me from underpaid, time-bound scholarships. I used to think: not a student, not a teacher, I only know what I am not (yes, Balto was actually a PhD). Now, I am proud to be both in my mind, but so glad to be one on paper. 

Dear unwritten rule of working overtime, thank you for giving me the freedom to sleep in and work in the quiet hours of the evening instead. I feared always feeling at work; instead, work felt lighter in the evening light.

Dear girl I met at a festival in my first year, who asked me what I was researching, in the chaos of the dance floor. I was full of doubts when I told you my topic, and you screamed in my ear that it was dope. That is not a word I would have used, but it made me laugh and think you were right.

I know, too chaotic a list for the real thesis, and yet a truthful picture of my PhD: a messy mix of nice people, coincidences, and academic ironies. Trust me, though - all of this chaos really is, somehow, dope.

On Staff's Viewpoint, UU's employees share their views with the UU community. Isabela Saccardi, a PhD candidate in the Human-Centred Computing Group, is one of the columnists invited to write in this space. You can also read students' perspectives on Students' Viewpoint and click here to check out students' and staff's columns in Dutch.