181 Letter from Xiang Ying Mei

Dear aspiring future generation of tourism scholars,

First, let me say how proud I am of each of you for embarking on this journey. Tourism, with its complexities and opportunities, is a fascinating field. What makes it truly special, however, are the diverse perspectives, passions, and insights that scholars like you bring to it.

My own journey has given me a variety of insights that shape how I work as a tourism scholar today. I was born in Shanghai, China, and moved to Norway when I was seven years old, where I spent almost my entire adolescent life. Later, I moved to Brisbane, Australia, to pursue my undergraduate degree. After gaining a few years of experience in the industry, I returned to Brisbane to complete my PhD. Along the way, I worked in and co-owned a family-run eatery and a larger chain in the hotel sector, which gave me first-hand experience of the challenges and joys of running a small business versus working for a larger hotel. These experiences, spanning multiple countries, cultures, and industries, have shaped my understanding of tourism and business operations in diverse contexts.

Someone in the industry once said to me, ‘We need researchers who can do research for us, not just about us.’ That statement resonated deeply with me, and I understand their perspective. Having lived and worked on both sides, as a practitioner and as a researcher, I know how important it is to bridge the gap between academic theory and real-world challenges. This dual perspective drives my passion for tourism scholarship, and I hope it inspires you to bring your own unique experiences and insights to your research as well.

As you navigate this path, I want to share some important lessons. We are not born as superstars, excelling in whatever we do, most of us anyway. We learn and develop through our experiences, which include rejections and setbacks. So, it is okay to face rejections and setbacks because they do not define your worth or capabilities. They are simply part of the process of growth. Whether it is a rejected paper, a failed funding application, or a project that does not go as planned, remember that every scholar, no matter how accomplished, has experienced the same. These moments are not failures but stepping stones that teach resilience, humility, and determination. It is also perfectly okay to not have all the answers. Uncertainty is a vital part of learning. It is in those moments of not knowing that curiosity thrives, and that is where true discovery begins.

You also do not need to master every skill, exceed every expectation, or be the best at every task. Nobody can. That is what makes us human. Embrace your strengths and do not be afraid to acknowledge your limitations. They are not weaknesses but reflections of your individuality and humanity. It is also important to acknowledge that the journey of a female scholar often comes with its own set of challenges. Balancing academic work with family responsibilities can be overwhelming. I began my PhD journey when my boys were one and three years old. This would not have been possible without a supportive husband who shared the responsibilities of raising our children and managing our household. Sadly, many of my female PhD colleagues were not so fortunate. Some lacked the same support system and had to make the difficult decision to leave their studies behind.

Undoubtedly, competition exists, and as women in academia, we are constantly being compared with male colleagues. Even in systems like Norway, where there are strong policies advocating for equality, statistics show that men still tend to get promoted faster and earn higher salaries than women. This is true across many industries, including academia. These disparities can be disheartening and frustrating, especially when you are working just as hard, if not harder, in your field. Recognising these inequalities is important, but remember that they do not diminish your value or the importance of your contributions. Change is slow, but by continuing to push forward, we collectively help pave the way for fairer systems for future generations.

I also realise how fortunate I am to live and work in Norway, where policies and benefits make it easier to balance work and family life. Here, we have access to extensive sick leave, leave to care for sick children, and nearly a full year of maternity leave with full salary. These benefits have been instrumental in allowing me to pursue my academic career while being a mother. I am deeply grateful for the support that has made this possible, but I also know that many female scholars around the world are not so fortunate. Their struggles are a stark reminder of the need to push for systemic change and support for women in academia globally.

Another valuable lesson I have learned is this: be true to yourselves. Follow your passions, interests, and what excites you, even if it does not align with someone else’s idea of success. The most fulfilling work is not about competing with others or trying to be better than anyone else. There will always be someone more accomplished, more published, or more experienced. But what does better even mean? Success is deeply personal, and it is about finding joy and purpose in what you do. Focus on your own journey, not on comparisons. The field of tourism does not need copies of others. It needs the unique voices and perspectives that only you can bring.

In this competitive environment, remember that your journey is yours alone. It is not about following someone else’s timeline or achievements. Take pride in the small victories, whether it is completing a draft, receiving feedback, or having a meaningful conversation about your work. These moments of progress, no matter how small they may seem, are worth celebrating. They reflect your growth, your passion, and your drive to contribute something meaningful.

Enjoy the process. Research, teaching, and learning are as much about the journey as they are about the outcomes. Tourism thrives on diversity, creativity, and connection, and your individuality will make your contribution meaningful and significant. Celebrate the small victories, whether it is a new idea, a meaningful discussion, or the joy of pursuing something that matters to you. Find what fuels your curiosity and makes you want to keep exploring.

Remember, it is not about perfection. It is about passion.

Xiang Ying Mei

University of Inland Norway, Norway