Reflecting on My LL.M. Experience In the Netherlands

A Year of Disappointment and Frustration that Turned Out to be a Total Success

This post is based on the post-thesis Reflection Paper required of all students. I elaborated on some areas since its submission and added the first section about my experience in the program in general. 

The day I picked up my diploma, it drizzled and the sun came out (wet hair was certainly my Netherlands “look,” haha). I thought about holding the diploma open for this picture but decided leaving it in the tube was just fine since my name was printed wrong, despite numerous email attempts to update it from my maiden name to my married name. *Sigh* Sometimes academia is like having a rock in your shoe, there’s always something small annoying you. But there was still a sense of completion when I held this piece of paper in my hand. I’m proud of what I did and I met some great people that keep my hope alive for a better world.

Reflections on the Public International Law LL.M. at Utrecht University (Ocean, Environment & Sustainability track)

I was really excited to apply to this program because it was one of the few I found with a track specifically for the Ocean. I was also impressed with the research facilities and professor bios. I anticipated a progressive learning environment where students are exposed to new, innovative ideas that push the boundaries of law and society. 

I was disappointed. Whatever cool research the professors were working on, it didn’t reach their classrooms. Several students and I were surprised to learn that this LL.M. is one of the few in the world that doesn’t require applicants to have a law degree. While I love transdisciplinary work, I found this detrimental to the learning experience because we had to spend nearly two terms learning what international law is so that everyone is on the same page. Students with law degrees were frustrated at the loss of their time and money that could have gone to studying their areas of interest. Certain classes were purely review because I had just taken them in law school less than a year before. This would have been ok IF I was presented with a new perspective on International Law—this is why LL.M.s are done abroad, to gain a new perspective on law. But it was the routine: “This is what the law is” curriculum with a couple of articles critiquing it. 

I was further disappointed by the lack of ocean-based courses. Of course, even if there were more courses, nearly half my year was taken up by the basics. It felt disingenuous to have “Ocean” as the first word in the title of my track and yet offer so few courses on it. I suppose the fact that the course is called “Oceans” with an ’s’ should have tipped me off, since there is a movement to drop the ’s’ from Ocean to emphasise the fact that world has one big Ocean completely connected around continents.

All of this disappointment made it ever more challenging to physically show up on campus (as required). I was relieved when I was sick because I had to stay home. Staying home for a bit notably improved my mental health because it removed the social pressure of sitting in a classroom, being taught things I fundamentally disagree with while wishing we had time to critique and brainstorm solutions. That is what I want higher education to be: you should already have learned the basics, now let’s figure out how to make shit better.

There are three ‘moments’ that stand out. The first was in my International Environmental Law class. It was the second term and I was thoroughly bored and frustrated with the repetition of curriculum and the (almost complete) lack of criticism for the failures of modern environmental law to be sustainable or equitable. The professor tried to tell us the Paris Agreement was ‘working’ to address climate change, and I insisted it was not. She countered, and I exclaimed in a somewhat exasperated manner, “BUT you just showed us the graph that shows it’s not!” The whole class was quiet for a minute. I don’t remember how we moved on, maybe some comment on room for improvement, but let me tell you… it was a long bike ride full of existential dread that day. It was the first time that I thought I’d made the wrong choice; maybe I should have done a PhD instead to have the time to dig into my interests and find like-minded academics. 

The second moment was when a few classmates and I were discussing course materials and I said something about my frustrations and feeling like talking in class is pointless and maybe I should just shut up. They said no, carry on—I’m saying what they are all thinking. That felt good because often classes can be so quiet you don’t know if people agree with you or are bored, annoyed, or just half asleep because their commute is 2hrs so morning classes are awful.

The final ‘moment’ is more like a series of moments. There was this one professor who’s face would light up when I related Earth Law issues to our coursework. She encouraged such ideas and I could tell she knew what I was talking about. I would have like to spend more time with her and professors like her; but alas, the program was only one year.

By far the best part was writing my thesis because I finally had the time and freedom to explore what I cared about. Upon completing the thesis, I knew I made the right choice by attending an LL.M and not a Ph.D. because I learned something about myself: how I want to give back to the world.

Reflections on the Thesis Writing Process & Advice to Future Students (of any grad program)

Writing this thesis drove home the argument that professionalism is a scam and solidified my disillusionment with most institutions. And I think that’s a good thing. I’ve pursued higher education out of a somewhat desperate desire to understand how the world works and the more I learn the more “radical” I become because it seems the only rational way to be. For example, when I say “professionalism is a scam” I don’t mean respecting colleagues or wearing personal protective equipment in a lab; I’m talking about the ‘professionalism’ that requires people to assimilate into Western Society to be creditable and the elitist gate-keeping of knowledge, knowledge production, and ‘appropriate’ presentations of knowledge. Even something as basic as citations killed my desire to publish. I’m all about giving credit where credit is due, but it shouldn’t take a 60-page manual to figure out how to give credit. It’s tedious busy-work that costs academics hours better spent elsewhere and drives scholars mad. There’s absolutely no reason why citations, across disciplines, can’t be as simple as Author, Title, Publisher, Date, Page and then one type of short cite. The frustration with things like citations goes beyond annoyance. It speaks to the larger issue of gate-keeping, time lost to meaningless tasks, proving oneself by jumping through meaningless hoops, and how this level of nit-picky perfectionism is an example of why the general public doesn’t want to engage with the highly educated ‘elitists.’ How is scholarship going to contribute to society and change the world if people don’t want to engage with you or trust you? What are we doing about the anti-intellectual, anti-expert movement in society? 

Clearly, my thesis challenges were mostly existential. This is my fifth thesis, so I came with a solid research and writing practice and largely knowing my desired topic. Ironically, community is an important theme in my thesis and I found myself lacking it. In hindsight, I would have benefited from having more interactions with students and professors who share my interests, even just friendly chats over tea. Living far from campus, tending to family, the large age gap between me and most students, and my naturally introverted nature were all factors. I am grateful for the friends I made and the conversations with them illuminated my enjoyment of such idea-sharing and my need for this type of intellectual stimulation. However, universities in general could do a better job of providing more casual situations for students to share and discuss their ideas in a way that supplements their coursework. Of course, I also think this would require less assigned reading and more freedom to dive into topics of interest. Most students I talked with felt there was no time for a social life, especially if they also had to work to support themselves, never mind attending casual academic events.

As for the writing itself, my greatest challenge was constantly being asked to change my research question after approval of my proposal. I suspect this was due to my supervisor wanting me to focus on the information he was most familiar with, but it was not the focal point of my research and that information was part of a larger examination of systems thinking. Furthermore, my advisor had ‘old white man’ syndrome: he told me he is not convinced by the argument that the law was written by colonisers and maintains power imbalances today and is otherwise skewed and unjust. The only real conversation we had about it was me then asking, “If all these established scholars I’m citing don’t convince you, then how am I supposed to convince you?” To his credit, he said he didn’t have to agree with my thesis to recognize that I wrote a good paper and grade me accordingly. While that’s fine, I felt being paired with him was a detriment to my education because my advisor and I did not discuss fundamental elements of my subject. I was not guided, inspired, or challenged by him in any way. I essentially wrote my thesis alone. Good thing it was my fifth one or that lack of advisorship could have been a disaster.

I also found myself annoyed with the application of the ‘scientific method’ to research and writing. This is a humanities practice, not a science experiment with repeatable results. Hundreds of students could be given the same research question and they would write hundreds of different papers with different sources and different conclusions. The research question, in my previous education, has always been a launching point to pursue something that interests you, while allowing the research to lead the way. Again, this speaks to the gate-keeping of knowledge production: western science is held above all else, to the point that other fields are trying to copy its methods to appear more credible. So what if the research takes you down an unexpected path? Isn’t that the point of research, to discover and learn and grow? 

My advice to future students is this: ask questions, go to the writing centre, study and write together, read each other’s drafts (and read them out-loud, it’s the best way to catch errors or difficult to understand sentences even if they are grammatically correct), and do NOT allow yourselves to be stressed. Everything is a social construct. The law is made up. Academic rules are made up. Grades are not as important as you think. Decide for yourself what you want to get out of school and don’t let other things bother you. A ‘poor grade’ will not ruin your career. Perfection is a paralytic. Be humble and come from a place of kindness. If you’re trying to make the world a better place, remember, some social norms have changed in as little as one generation. You can help create change.

And that’s my next step: to create change. Synthesizing the last 15-years of my education and life experience into this thesis resulted in stumbling upon a new approach to sustainability consulting. I’m using the Questions of Care to create a tiered program for any organisation to ensure their actions meet at the intersection of sustainability and equity. It addresses the problems inherent in the Western worldview without requiring immediate radical legal change (as much as I would love to see that). By inviting all members of an organisation to think differently about our relationship with ‘Nature’ and each other, my program promotes innovative ideas that unite human activity with our habitat. Law lags behind society, so I’m going to push the law by pushing society.

Starting my own business is not something I ever thought I would do and it is somewhat intimidating. But I can’t see myself working somewhere with a purely Western worldview because that has not and will not address our multitude of trans-disciplinary problems. Through this thesis and my existential frustrations, I have found the best way I can be a positive force in this world. As my mother taught me, “Kill them with kindness.” 

Overall, this last degree was mostly disappointing and frustrating, yet I managed to get exactly what I needed out of it. So, this year of disappointment and frustration turned out to be a total success.