Marcus Board Jr. Transcript

Iris Girgin, PhD student studying Political Science in the Social Sciences Division, talked with Marcus Board, Jr., MA’07, PhD’17, whose unconventional path to success is marked by resilience, determination, and an unwavering commitment to personal and community growth. Their conversation offers insights into the transition from MAPSS to a PhD at UChicago, the power of finding people who believe in you, the struggle against impostor syndrome, and the importance of being deeply engaged with one's community for academia and beyond.

Iris: Why political science?

Marcus: That's a good question. I was a political science major in undergrad. Even before I turned 17 and went to college, I believed that understanding government and power was crucial for anyone who wanted to change the world.

I don't know if I feel exactly the same way now, or at least not as strongly, but back then, I really wanted to help end oppression. The only way I thought I could figure that out was by studying political science. I believed there might be some secret I could discover to achieve greater freedom, so I delved deeply into the subject.

Iris: Did you consider a career in government?

Marcus: No, I definitely didn't want to be in government. My father was in the Air Force, so I grew up in a military environment. I never wanted to run for office or work for the state in any functional capacity. That being said, I did end up working for the government in a roundabout way. When I was 17, I started working in after-school programs on a military base. It was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. So, while it wasn't what people typically mean when they say "working for the government," in theory, it was a form of government work.

Iris: How did your journey lead you to UChicago?

Marcus: I wasn't really familiar with grad school. During my undergrad at UMBC (University of Maryland, Baltimore County), a professor I trusted, Christel[SD1]  Temple, encouraged me to join the McNair program. She believed in my ideas and thought grad school would be a good fit for me.

Also during undergrad, I worked with Tyson King-Meadows, with whom I still collaborate today. They introduced me to a lot of authors, including Michael Dawson. By my senior year, I realized political science wouldn't give me the secrets to revolution, but Dawson's work resonated with my desire for change.

I applied to UChicago’s doctoral program, but I was not admitted. However, my application was forwarded to MAPSS. I had to choose between paying for this program or attending another school for a PhD. I decided to take a risk, go to UChicago, and study with Dawson.

In my first year, I took the PhD sequence through the master's program. My professors were impressed with my ideas, and the next year, I had strong letters of recommendation from them. That's how I ended up at UChicago.

I actually ended up being a preceptor in the MAPSS program. By the time I was finishing my PhD, I was mentoring students. It was enlightening to see students in the same position I once was and to observe how their thinking about the world and their approach to school had evolved over the years. Looking back over that nine-year span, the changes were incredible. I don't regret it at all.

The relationships I built and the people I met there have been lifelong blessings, and for that, I am very grateful.

Iris: With whom did you work with for your thesis?

Marcus: Michael Dawson. I worked on neighborhood poverty and African American attitudes towards police, an amazing project with a lot of support from the Office of Multicultural Student Affairs. Ronnie Rios who was there at the time, was incredibly supportive. 

It was a tough year because I had some personal losses back home in Maryland, where a few friends passed away untimely. Dawson was there for me during that time. I don't know what exactly drew him to support me, but I came to him because he was the only person I knew who had written a book that I had read. So I just approached him and said, "Hey, I really liked your book." He responded, "Cool, you should stay here." So that was the master's thesis.

Iris: And for the PhD dissertation?

Marcus: For the PhD, it was Michael Dawson, Cathy Cohen, John Brennan, and Bernard Harcourt. 

Iris: How did you decide to pursue a career in academia?

Marcus: My trajectory to academia wasn't common. I guess it was common in the sense that I was good at school from a young age, and I can acknowledge that. But I didn't cooperate with schools as a young person. I was a very angry child. From a very young age, I was thinking about justice and revolution. That’s not the reason I was angry, though. I was angry because I couldn't find any outlets to have my perspective validated.

So I was a big Tupac fan when I was young because he was the only person I could see talking about the same things I did. On the flip side, I was surrounded by the United States military. There are very explicitly written rules about politics, segregation, and the ideas you’re allowed to be a part of. They are laws.

So the idea here that around enlisted people, who didn’t go to college, many had the same story my family did. They had kids young, got married, joined the military, moved away from their homes, families, cultures, and communities to join this thing some folks see as rescuing them. There’s that kind of savior complex.

But then there’s also the reality of being Black in the US empire. It’s not built to encourage, inspire, or sustain you in any way. That made me want to do something about it. I quickly learned about the limitations of my own power and eventually that politics in isolation is always bad politics. I didn’t understand that at the time. Now, you know, I ended up going to Chicago. It’s the only place I’ve ever called home. I built a community there—political, spiritual—learning lessons about radicalism, organizing, and Black feminist theory. These things changed me in ways I had been looking for my entire life. And so I’m grateful for that.

Iris: How did that experience shape your current work?

Marcus: It is complicated. Cathy Cohen, Michael Dawson, Bernard Harcourt, and John Brehm accomplished something with me that I will be grateful for the rest of my life. But it’s also the students. My peers were amazing. Folks in my cohort were incredible. 

It ended up being a thing where I learned and grew, developing a community to the point where I found something I called home. 

The university itself, especially the Office of Multicultural Student Affairs, was a crucial space. It was a gathering hub, a safe space to think, learn, and grow. For me, that and the Center for the Study of Race, Politics, and Culture were the two most important spaces on campus. Without them, there’s no version of me that survives at the University of Chicago. So I’m deeply grateful for their existence.

Iris: What advice would you give to prospective students?

Marcus: I think fit is the most important thing in graduate school and master's programs. Typically, you don’t have the opportunity to find an intellectual fit because master's programs can be rigid about who you work with and who you get introduced to. Find the person who encourages you to think broadly - find a faculty member who can validate, encourage, and cultivate your ideas for your benefit and for others. It might not be the person you expect, but you need to find them because that's the only way to develop your ideas. That's the only way to survive at the University of Chicago—by developing your ideas in a way that pushes, challenges, encourages, and inspires you. Without that, you will struggle intellectually. Ideas are fuel there, and you have to create your own fuel with the help of others. 

But, ultimately, it's up to you. Without this support, you might find yourself not moving forward. It's hard to be in a space where everyone is moving at a rapid pace, with their brains churning, often to the point of failure, which is not healthy. But you still want to find your own space.

Iris: What did you do outside academics?

Marcus: I did a lot of community work in my neighborhood. There was the First Baptist Church of Chicago, where I lived. Many young people would hang out at the nearby basketball court, and since I played basketball, I joined them. Coming from working with youth at the Youth Center in Maryland, I naturally continued that work in Chicago. We played basketball and talked about life, and over time, it evolved into an informal organization. During the harsh Chicago winters, we moved our activities indoors to the church on Saturdays, and it grew into a significant community event. Hundreds of young people would come every week, and we built supportive, caring relationships. 

Now, I work with Not Me We, an organization that advocates for tenants' rights, educational justice, environmental justice, and housing justice. This stemmed from a program I did with Kenwood High School, in collaboration with Cathy Cohen. We also ran similar programs at other schools like UCW, Kenwood, King, Harlan Academy, and Phillips. I still stay in touch with many of the high school students I met during my time in Chicago.

Additionally, my friend YJ started a basketball league called CBL, aimed at bringing UChicago undergrads and grad students together for community work. YJ connected us with a middle school where the principal invited us to speak with the kids. It was fantastic. I had worked with middle school kids for so long that I felt right at home. She was so impressed that she invited me to be their graduation speaker, which was my first formal public speaking gig.

Chicago's history of community organizing, activism, and civic engagement is second to none. Having moved around a lot, I can say that the opportunity to get involved and show care for the community you're in is unmatched at the University of Chicago. Its proximity to the city, especially on the South Side, offers unique chances to engage deeply with the community, despite the challenges of displacement. I would strongly encourage folks to get active in these communities. Commit to the people—they will welcome you with open arms. It's the reason why Chicago is the only place I call home.

Iris: What challenges did you encounter during your time in Chicago or at UChicago? 

Marcus: I was in Chicago in my 20s, and those years were rough. I faced serious mental health challenges, experienced intimate partner violence, and was houseless for a time. Racism, homophobia, misogyny, and patriarchy all affected me while I was there. I missed a lot of family events, including funerals and weddings. Financial struggles were a constant. It was tough seeing people I cared about leave the program.

Iris: What advice would you offer to students dealing with similar issues?

Marcus: My advice? Definitely go to therapy. Start therapy before you get there, but if not, start as soon as you arrive. Have someone you can talk to professionally who can help you sort through these challenges. Self-care is crucial, but so is community care. The idea that you can do it alone is just wrong. Prioritize your physical, spiritual, and social well-being over academic goals. You can't be good for anyone if you're not good to yourself.

Build real connections, maintain them, commit to people, love them, and trust them with your struggles and truths. This may not guarantee you'll complete a degree, but it will make your time in that space worth it. And that's much more important.

Iris: I really wish more faculty members would open up like you have. So many of us face similar struggles, even if they take different forms, and it's incredibly important to know that these challenges are real and that we can still succeed despite them. Thank you for sharing. Do you have any final thoughts you'd like to share?

Marcus: Growing up as a military kid, I moved around a lot and went to many different schools. I never had a positive experience with the U.S. education system. Schools always felt rigid and mean-spirited. When you're smart, you get segregated early, problematically early. You're separated, and it's not just about being elevated for being smart. The kids deemed "not smart" are cast aside, and I always noticed and hated that. No one ever acknowledged it, always saying, "You'll understand when you're older," or "When you become a professor, you'll understand." Well, I'm a tenured professor now at a place I never expected to be for various reasons.

And the problem still exists—treating students like investments to be measured and weighed in ways that are inhumane. If I left students with anything, it would be this: Do not let yourself be defined by these measures. Don't let your worth be determined by someone whose validation you desperately seek. It's a setup for disaster. Even if you make it through, you'll be worse off for it.

I think of a distinguished scholar, an extraordinary woman and long-time organizer who was sought after by top universities. She interviewed at an Ivy League school, and the interviewer assumed she would be honored to be there. She ended up not taking the position, much to his shock. The lesson here is important. When dealing with impostor syndrome, remember that places like Ivy League schools are not the reference group. They're not the people I want to make proud or disappoint. My reference group is the communities with whom I work and build a life with. Ella Baker used to ask, "Who are your people?" Where are you coming from and where are you going? Those questions are key to a good life. If you don't have a good life, you won't do good work, you won't excel, and you won't be satisfied just because you have a degree.

I encourage people to find community, love, and joy in people. Whatever happens from there, you'll be OK. I have friends who didn't finish their PhDs, but they are happy, healthy, and whole. I'm no better than them because I'm now a senior faculty member. It just worked out differently for me. They're happy, have families, and live healthy lives. So, that has to be the priority. Being a good person is the secret to doing good work.

Marcus’s top picks:
Favorite study spots: Center for the Study of Race, Politics, and Culture
Best place for coffee: The coffee shop at the base of Divinity School (but I am a tea drinker).
Best food in Hyde Park: Food Trucks
Favorite activity in Hyde Park: Community Engagement and basketball