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Blog
Balancing Ambition with Obsession: Learning to Thrive, Not Just Survive, in Grad School
If ambition brought us to Duke, it’s because we’re the type to seek out challenges, to dive into the unknown, and to put our heads down when the going gets tough. But in the whirlwind of deadlines, achievements, and constant comparison, ambition can quietly slip into obsession, narrowing our vision until all we see is the next milestone. And at times, it blinds us to what’s right in front of us: the people, experiences, and growth that could shape us beyond the academic checkboxes we aim to complete.
Graduate school is often a delicate balance between achieving goals and learning to reframe what those goals mean. It’s not that ambition itself is bad; it’s the tunnel vision that can come with it, where the next goal is always just out of reach, where we’re so focused on the endgame that we miss the value in what’s right in front of us. If you’re a fan of Shakespeare, it’s a bit like King Lear—a play that might seem far from relevant to our everyday lives but holds a cautionary tale about tunnel vision. Lear’s ambition, his drive for validation and control, blinds him to what truly matters: the relationships that anchor his life, the trust of those who care for him, and the moments of joy that aren’t tied to his title or power. He’s so focused on what he thinks he needs that he doesn’t see what he already has, and by the time he does, it’s too late.
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In graduate school, it can be eerily similar. We can get so wrapped up in chasing achievements- publications, perfect grades, fellowships – while important, that we can lose sight of the importance of the relationships around us or the simple joy of exploring ideas just for the sake of curiosity. How often do we skip a chance to connect with a classmate, take a walk outside, or even savor a win because we’re already onto the next challenge? (If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably celebrated a big milestone by immediately starting a new to-do list.)
And that’s one of the hidden truths about grad school: it’s supposed to shatter some of what we think we know. We come here to confront the unknown, to break down old ideas and explore new ones. And yet, that process of breaking down, of risking—and sometimes experiencing?—failure, doesn’t always feel like growth. Sometimes, a wrong decision or a stumble can feel like it’s taking us backward, not forward. But I’ve learned that a “wrong” decision isn’t meaningless. Even mistakes can offer us clarity, showing us what we actually value, or pointing us to new directions we never considered. It’s this willingness to question, to take risks and accept setbacks, that keeps ambition from turning into a fixation.
The Role of Emotional Intelligence in Academic Relationships
Of course, learning from these experiences often depends on the people we surround ourselves with, especially in a high-stakes academic environment. One of the most rewarding but surprisingly difficult parts of grad school has been learning to build and rely on academic relationships. Emotional intelligence—the ability to understand, empathize, and respond to others—becomes just as valuable as academic achievement. Yet the reality is, not everyone in grad school is wired for deep empathy or active listening. Sometimes, it feels like a lot of academic relationships are purely results-driven. I can almost hear a few of you saying, “Jonathan, we’re not all here for group therapy.”
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And that’s fair. But even in these results-focused environments, I’ve found that leaving the door open for empathy—setting the tone with a bit of openness—can make a difference. It’s amazing how a small gesture of understanding can turn a stiff academic interaction into something meaningful. And no, that doesn’t mean relying on one person for everything. Grad school has taught me the value of building a community, where each person brings something unique.
One mentor might be the person to listen to your half-baked ideas, the safe space for creative exploration. Another might be all business, there to hold you accountable for deadlines and professional standards. There’s value in each type of connection, and with so many diverse perspectives and personalities at a place like Duke, taking the time to build these relationships becomes its own form of professional development. Everyone here is brilliant in their own way, and there’s something humbling and inspiring in realizing that we all have something unique to bring to the table.
Reframing Ambition and Success
So, where does that leave us in the quest for success? For many of us, our sense of identity has always been closely tied to achievement. It’s what brought us here; it’s the drive that keeps us pushing for “the best.” But when that drive becomes all-consuming, it’s easy to feel like our whole self is on trial with every deadline, every paper, every project. Grad school can amplify this pressure until a missed deadline or a single misstep feels like a total unraveling. It’s easy to look around and think everyone else is on top of everything while you’re just barely keeping afloat. (I promise you’re not alone in that. And if you don’t believe it, know that I’m definitely in that boat with you.)
Success, though, isn’t just about meeting deadlines or outshining others. It’s a lot messier than that, and honestly, no one figures it all out on the first try. This balancing act—learning to separate who we are from what we achieve—isn’t something we’re going to master by the time we graduate. It’s a process we’ll likely keep refining well into our careers, maybe even for the rest of our lives.
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One thing I’ve learned is to start recognizing the small wins. Not every achievement has to be a milestone, and not every measure of success needs to be monumental. There’s something valuable in finishing a day feeling just a bit more resilient than the one before, in reaching out to a classmate to share the load, or even just taking time to step back and breathe. These little victories keep us grounded; they remind us that we’re more than our academic achievements, more than our GPAs or résumés.
In the end, ambition is part of what makes us who we are, but it doesn’t have to define our entire identity. As we move through grad school—and eventually into our careers—learning to balance drive with self-compassion, ambition with appreciation for the everyday, becomes part of our growth. If we can remember to see the journey, not just the destination, we’ll find a sense of success that’s more meaningful, one that feels like our own.
AUTHOR
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Jonathan Kennedy
M.S. student, Global Health
Jonathan Kennedy is a student in Global Health at Duke University focusing on the intersection of mental health, child health, and ensuring access to care for underserved populations without incurring catastrophic healthcare expenditures. Outside of his studies, Jonathan enjoys writing, photography, running, Duke basketball, and watching movies.