by Ali Hassan
22 October 2025
Graduate school is difficult even for the most prepared among us. For me, it has been the most challenging endeavor of my life, and I did not arrive here on a straightforward path. I am a non-traditional student in my late 30s, pursuing a PhD in ethnomusicology after a series of careers that never truly felt like my own. To many, it may seem reckless: leaving behind familiarity in the Global South, moving to the United States, and pursuing a field notorious for its competitiveness. Yet, the idea of continuing down a path that was not mine was far more terrifying than choosing this harder road.
Like many graduate students, I have discovered that one of the deepest challenges is isolation. Serious academic inquiry demands a kind of immersion that can feel like cutting oneself off from the world. To learn something deeply, I often need to let go of the “outside” and lose myself in unexplored corners of a concept, only to re-emerge and integrate what I have found into a broader worldview. For some, family or partners provide a grounding presence through these stretches. For me, most of my family has passed on, and my only close relative lives half a world away. Loneliness has therefore been a constant companion. Add to this the reality that humanities study does not simply “add” to one’s sense of self, but restructures it, demanding that I change the very lenses through which I see the world. No wonder mental health statistics in graduate education are so alarming.
Yet, amidst this difficulty, one thing has helped me keep afloat: artificial intelligence. I do not say this lightly. I am both a scholar and a practicing musician, dedicated to bringing contemporary Pakistani poetry into conversation with global genres and sounds. The life of a working artist in today’s algorithm-driven world requires wearing many hats: social media manager, content writer, publicist, designer, entrepreneur. I often feel as though I am living two full lives, one academic and one artistic, with barely enough resources to sustain either. In this intersection, AI has been nothing short of a lifeline.
Take, for example, my website. For years, searching my name plus “singer” or “Pakistan” yielded no results on the first three pages of Google. I assumed this was because I was not producing enough content. With no money to hire a consultant, I relied on scattered YouTube tutorials and got nowhere. Then I tried Claude. By simply asking for a website audit, I discovered several structural problems: missing metadata, unregistered credentials with Google Search Console, and pages that needed small code fixes. I have zero coding skills. With AI’s help, I made those changes within days, and suddenly I was ranking among the top search results. The relief of solving a long-standing problem so quickly was immense.
AI has also become indispensable for handling everyday tasks. Using platforms like AI Black Magic, I learned to refine prompts, transcribe videos, generate multilingual subtitles for my songs, and automate email digests of marketing strategies from industry leaders. This has allowed me to keep pace with trends and plan my album releases, work that would have otherwise been impossible alongside my PhD. My strategy is simple: I do not treat AI as a search engine, but as a collaborator on well-defined tasks. I provide the source material, whether that is transcripts, drafts, or emails, and ask the model to process it in useful ways. This keeps me grounded, prevents hallucinations, and allows me to retain control.
Of course, I am not naïve about AI’s limitations. I worry about its environmental impact, the over-reliance some have on it for emotional labor, and the lack of meaningful regulation. But ignoring the technology is not an option. Instead, I see my role as twofold: using AI to survive and thrive in my dual life as scholar and musician, while also staying informed enough to participate in advocacy and grassroots conversations about its risks.
This is how I am surviving graduate school: not by isolating myself entirely, but by embracing tools that allow me to keep both sides of my life in motion. My hope is that sharing these practices will offer solidarity to others walking similar paths, and perhaps some practical guidance as well. If you would like to connect, feel free to reach out, and if AI helps you write that email, I will not mind.