If you got to this page because you are interested in working with me at Penn, I want to thank you for reading my work and for being interested enough in it to consider working with me for the PhD. That’s a real gift, and I don’t take your interest in my research and teaching lightly.
That said, the first thing that I’m going to do is to discourage you from even thinking about applying to grad school. That's not because I'm trying to pull the ladder up behind me. The academy probably needs someone just like you, and I'm particularly interested in continuing to diversify the professoriate by mentoring students from traditionally underrepresented backgrounds. I am also very committed to ensuring that the academic study of religion continues for many generations beyond my own. But there are structural issues at play that you must consider when applying to PhD programs. The rest of this page covers the basics of what I tell my own students who are thinking about graduate school as well as the typical stuff I tell prospective students when they first contact me. (See here for a very comprehensive overview of the issues at stake written by a recent PhD in another humanities field.)
First Things First:
Do you really want to go?
I would not be doing my job if I pretended that all is OK in the academy. It is not. Professorial jobs are scarce and funding for graduate fellowships is dwindling. Normative timelines to completion are shortening even as grad students typically need more time between the moment they deposit their dissertations and the day they finally land satisfying tenure-track (TT) jobs. Many never get TT jobs, many become underpaid and underappreciated contingent faculty, and many sacrifice all sorts of other things along the way. COVID-19 added an additional challenge because the austerity measures universities adopted in response to the pandemic brought hiring freezes and even fewer jobs for junior academics. Bluntly stated, in the absence of some major structural changes, the future of the academy looks pretty bleak.
If you are considering graduate studies at Penn, I want you to know at the outset that going to grad school does not guarantee you a slot in the professoriate. In fact, your chances of landing a TT position straight out of the gate are slim. You must know this, and you must be OK with it. You must have a contingency plan in case your dream of entering the professoriate (or whatever other dream you may have) does not pan out.
This sort of contingency planning will probably be easier for you if you have had some time outside of the academy working “in the real world” for a while, and having some non-academic professional experience under your belt will make the demands of grad school easier, too. I generally encourage prospective students to take time off between undergrad and grad school to get their priorities straight.
Second:
Do you know what you're getting into?
Let’s talk about money. Not about how much grad school costs, but rather about the hidden costs of getting an advanced degree. The whole time you are in school you will likely earn a small stipend, but you won’t be buying houses or saving for retirement unless you are either independently wealthy or incredibly frugal. Committing to a PhD program can deny your future self about 5–10 years of retirement savings. That adds up really quickly.
Also, family planning is different for everyone, but if kids are in your future then you need a plan for how you will pay for it all. You also need to think about the ideal time to start a family. Some people swear by having kids while in grad school. Others put it off until they have stable employment. I’m child-free so I can’t offer much insight on this one, but you need to think about it before you apply.
If you decide to go to grad school, don’t go unless you get a free ride. The only exception to this is that for some students it may make sense to take out loans to get a partially funded MA as a way of getting the chops to get into PhD programs. Indeed, this is exactly what I did. I recommend this path for students who need to build up their background skills.
That brings me to...
Third:
Do you have the chops?
If you’re reading this because you are interested in working with me on a subject related to Japanese religion, then you need to have a degree of fluency in Japanese that is equivalent to being able to read a newspaper, a novel, or (ideally) an academic article. You also need to have serious work toward another research language (either another East Asian language or a European research language like French or German). If you’re not quite there it’s not a deal-breaker, but we would need to have a frank discussion about how to get you there within your first year or so.
If you are applying to work with me in other department subfields, requirements for admission will vary, but at a minimum you will need to have serious work towards a research language other than English.
Your writing in English must be clear, and you must have a compelling research question. My department does not require GRE scores, but if you are a non-native speaker of English you are required to submit TOIEC scores or equivalent. I don’t think standardized tests tell us much about actual language competency for research, so if you are applying to work with me, I may ask that we speak by Zoom or phone so that I can assess whether your English is proficient enough for grad school.
I will be most excited about your proposed project if it demonstrates a nice balance of careful evidentiary research (historical, ethnographic, etc.) with participation in broader theoretical conversations in religious studies or related fields. One of the easiest (though not guaranteed, and potentially prohibitively expensive) ways of developing these skills is to do an MA in religious studies, Asian studies, or another related field prior to applying to the PhD.
There is no MA in religious studies at Penn, but there is an MA in EALC and as a member of the EALC grad group I can advise both MA and PhD students in that program. (Please note that I would prefer that you have some institutional diversity under your belt if you come to work with me for the PhD, so applying elsewhere for an MA is a good idea if you’re thinking of Penn for the PhD. Conversely, if you apply and are accepted for the EALC MA, I will do whatever I can to prepare you for the PhD.)
Harvard Divinity School has a relatively affordable MTS program, University of Colorado-Boulder has historically offered some funding to MA students, and the University of Alabama is aggressively expanding a new MA in religion that includes fierce training in theory, method, and media. The University of Chicago Divinity School is a major American center of robust thinking about religion. Florida State University is another place with both religious studies and Asian studies MA programs.
There are a number of really excellent places to do MAs at Japanese universities, and non-Japanese students can even apply to get funding from the Japanese government to do so. Examples of places you might consider include Tōhoku University (working with scholars like Orion Klautau and Clinton Godart on Japanese religions and intellectual history) and Kyūshū University, which has an English-language MA program with an emphasis on premodern Japan and a lot of strength in religious studies. The University of Tokyo also boasts one of the oldest religious studies departments in the world, and is a great place to familiarize yourself with the Japanese religious studies academy. I studied there as a “research student” (kenkyūsei) from 2006–2007 and again in 2012–13, and it was a really formative experience for me.
Fourth:
Do you know how to get in?
There are no guarantees that you will be admitted, even if you are brilliant and even if you have the best research topic in the world. You need lots of things going for you. Only some of these things are in your control. The most important are the personal statement, the writing sample, and the interview.
Your personal statement needs to be based on a clearly stated research question. Autobiographical details should be kept to an absolute minimum. (Save those for the interview.) The personal statement also needs to show that you have some awareness of the state of the field. (Who has already published on the subject? What did they miss or leave out?) It needs to show that you have a plan for making use of the various resources and people at the institution to which you are applying. (If you are applying to RELS at Penn, you need to demonstrate that at least three faculty on campus can support your project in some way, but they don’t have to be RELS faculty.) Usually the end of the statement will gesture toward your long-term career plans. Don’t simply say that you want to be a professor. Instead, talk about a trend you see in the field that you want to contribute to or change. Talk about a longstanding assumption that you would like to overturn. Talk about yourself as both a future researcher and a future teacher. Finally, the general rule of thumb for every application letter you will ever write is that it is better to show than to tell. If this doesn’t mean anything to you, ask a trusted mentor.
This principle of showing rather than telling also applies to the writing sample. It should be polished, and it should unambiguously demonstrate your research capabilities: Can you read primary sources with proficiency? Can you construct an original argument that is in conversation with what others in the field have been saying? Have you mastered the basics of academic style and presentation? Do you have a distinctive writing voice? You don’t need to have mastered all of these (grad school is training, after all), but you need at least some of them to be taken seriously by the department. For those working on projects that involve sources in a non-English language, it is important to demonstrate fluency by engaging with sources in the target language. (In Japan studies, that includes citations of both primary and secondary sources.)
Crucially, admissions are never just about the applicant-advisor relationship. Sometimes departments try to build synergy between incoming cohorts based on perceived points of overlap in research interests, for example, and there are complex deals between faculty members to try to spread grad training around. For example, if one faculty member hasn’t had a grad student in a while, they may have “dibs” on a fellowship slot in a particular year. How this plays out in practice varies from department to department, but the point is that applicants can’t control it and their prospective advisors may have minimal say over it, too.
It is very important to represent yourself and your interests honestly. If you misrepresent what you are interested in working on just to get your foot in the door, you’re setting everyone up for disappointment and frustration.
Finally, I’ll note that applications that foreground stories of personal hardship at the expense of outlining intellectual questions typically get rejected. Do mention personal challenges and triumphs over adversity in the relevant section of the application form, but don’t build your whole application around narratives related to disability, class, or race. Do not present yourself as the “abject applicant” who needs a hand up or a handout, but rather as a curious and flexible thinker who will eventually make an original contribution to scholarly knowledge.
To be absolutely clear: Personal factors such as class, gender, sexuality, and race are important aspects of who you are. You do not need to hide them, and you can even share them as appropriate for the genre. But personal circumstances and demographic markers are not what get you into graduate school. To reiterate: A successful personal statement is focused on a research question, not your autobiography.
Fifth:
Do others have your back?
Your letters of support need to be unambiguously supportive. When you ask people for letters, don’t push it if the potential referee seems hesitant. A reluctantly written letter will almost certainly work against you. Letter writers are overburdened and it shows in the cut-and-paste letters that they write. You need someone to be excited enough about your application that they are ready to write the best letter ever.
NOTE: A big name is often not enough. A lazy big shot may even tank your application. Get somebody who knows you and the field well, who is willing to write you a tailored letter that includes specific information about the institution, and who can comment on your ability to analyze and who can provide a concrete example or two about how you have learned or improved. Usually this person will have read multiple drafts of the same piece of writing or will have had you in multiple classes. By all means give your letter writers copies of your statement of purpose long before the deadline (weeks, not days). Letters of support from profs who have gotten last-minute requests have a certain tone that never helps the applicant. If you are disorganized about requesting letters, you are probably also going to be unprepared for the rigors of the PhD.
Pro tip: When applying, you might be tempted to refuse to waive your right to see letters of recommendation. It is of course your right, but an unwritten rule in the academy is that screening committees trust “blind” letters more (that is, letters that the applicant has not seen). Trust that your letter-writer has your back, and waive your right to see the letter unless you have a compelling reason to do otherwise.
Sixth:
Do you know the risks?
Grad school is immensely rewarding. It is also stressful. Mental health issues are common among grad students, and people deal with imposter syndrome, feelings of isolation, and all sorts of challenges related to peer review and satisfying the demands of multiple dissertation committee members. You must be prepared for this. Grad school also puts stresses on romantic relationships, and academic careers often create “two-body problems” where partners feel pulled toward different opportunities.
I say this from experience because I’ve been there. My wife and I have spent years commuting between distant states, video chatting across oceans, and driving back and forth across the state of Pennsylvania just to see each other. We count ourselves fortunate that we were able to work out a solution to our own two-body situation by securing tenure-track jobs at universities in the same city, but not everyone is so lucky. Please consider the strain on you and your family before applying.
Seventh:
Who do you need to meet, why, and when?
If you made it this far and you are determined to talk with me more about grad school, please know in advance that I have a policy of not responding to every request. Unprofessional or sloppy emails won’t get a response—you’re asking for years of my time and energy, so the least you can do is put the time into crafting a professional message. Come correct, and please proofread.
To be clear, meeting a potential advisor before submitting an application is not a requirement to be taken seriously, and it is generally not in your interest to waste professors’ time with requests for meetings that could have been an email. Many faculty actually prefer not to talk with prospective applicants until after they have seen a full application package and are considering a shortlist of names. And contacting faculty prematurely comes with some risks, because professors sometimes use such preliminary contact to discourage prospective applicants from even applying (see “Do you have the chops?” above).
With that said, I personally welcome serious applicants to contact me with specific questions, but only after you have looked at the Department of Religious Studies website, which includes detailed information about the application process, our collective mentoring philosophy, and program requirements. We even have recordings of annual informational webinars we do for prospective applicants up there. (Word to the wise: if you request a meeting and then just ask questions that are already answered on the website, I’ll assume that you can’t read and aren’t ready for grad school.)
If you’ve looked over the website and it still seems like a meeting would help us both determine whether Penn is a good fit for your interests, I may arrange a meeting by Zoom. In some cases I might also arrange a coffee meeting at an academic event such as the annual meetings of the American Academy of Religion or the Association for Asian Studies. But again, meeting before you apply is not a requirement for me to take your application seriously.
If you apply and are admitted, I’ll put you in touch with one of my current or former students so you can get more information about my advising style. If you are admitted and decide to come to Penn, I will encourage you to think about an ideal advising team of faculty in the RELS Graduate Group (including faculty from other units on campus) so that you can pitch a dissertation project that has maximum faculty support.
Eighth:
What do you need to know me as an advisor?
Grad training is one of the great joys of my job. I haven’t had a lot of students, but I’m very proud of my record so far. I had a PhD student in EALC who defended his dissertation in April 2021 and started a three-year postdoc the same year, and I have another PhD student in RELS who is on track to defend her dissertation in 2025. I have another RELS student finishing up his coursework this academic year. I’ve been on several dissertation committees, have served as Grad Chair for my department, and have mentored several MA students through to successful placement in top-tier PhD programs at places like Columbia, UCSB, and Yale. Students at other institutions also regularly reach out to me for mentorship and guidance. I think it is safe to say that I have a good reputation as a demanding but supportive advisor.
The day-to-day of grad school looks different depending on where a student is in the program. In the first couple of years when a student is in coursework, we will probably meet pretty regularly and do one or more independent studies together in addition to normal seminars. Once a student has advanced to candidacy, I do whatever I can to help them earn funding for fieldwork. I turn around dissertation chapters pretty quickly, all things considered, with a combination of structural comments and line edits. I like to think that I write a strong letter of recommendation. In short, if I bring someone on, I am committed to seeing them through.
Finally, my guiding assumption now and always is that anyone who works on a PhD must simultaneously prepare for both academic and non-academic work. As someone who is employed in the academy, my ability to mentor students on securing non-academic jobs is naturally limited. Nevertheless, I see such mentorship as part of my job.