Category Archives: Graduate student writers

Doubting my Ability to Complete my Master’s Program

By Barb Fouts-Melnychuk

This is my first official blog post and I am thrilled and nervous to write at the same time.  I have just finished my seventh course for my master’s program in Curriculum and Instruction focusing on Literacy.  At this point in this 13-month journey I fall asleep if I sit still for more than ten minutes.  Hilarious but true!  Being a literacy consultant, doing a master’s program and trying to balance a family simultaneously is tough.  What made the workload even tougher is having Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) and a learning disability.  Translation:  I do not process directions, readings, people’s comments or class discussions in the patterns my classmates did.  My unique learning style translated to 25 very rewarding years teaching junior high, or as you say in BC, middle school, but the learning style has not made grad school easy.

I started a master’s program in July 2017 because as a consultant last year in Alberta, I supported 13 junior high schools and coached 100 teachers.  I was asked to come back month after month and every meeting there were more and more teachers in attendance.  Junior high teachers want to adopt practices that transform their student learning.  In my school district in Edmonton, there are 100,000 students, and approximately 263 schools.  Translation:  many teachers want to adopt their classroom practices to meet the varied needs they see hourly. My master’s program has given me the language and capacity to walk into every classroom or school, see the strengths of the staff, listen to their “what if we could . . .?” questions and find the scaffolds and strategies to support the inquisitive professionals. The master’s program also highlighted my learning disability and required me to ask for help.

I have always had difficulty writing for academic purposes because I could not understand the patterns I was to follow.  I saw connections between the theories and classroom practice. Twenty-five years of reading, studying, practicing and planning, which resulted in 55 to 60-hour work weeks, allowed me to find ways to motivate and engage my students. My whole career I was able to get results from students that were supposedly unattainable or from the students who don’t care. In my classroom I have LOVED making literacy theory practical for my students and my colleagues!   What my insane work schedule did not do was develop my writing skills for academia.

Then the Learning and Teaching Centre came on my radar after a professor this summer handed back a paper saying, “Barb you get the ideas and theories, but you need an editor to find the transitions and develop the coherence.”  The comment was said with kindness and in support, and I had already come to this realization during my last 12 months.  One of my supportive cohort members suggested the Centre for Academic Communication (CAC). I was spending HOURS trying to meet the academic standards and barely making it.

It is so humbling to ask for help once again in my academic studies.  New to me, NOT!  My grade 12 Chemistry teacher was so excited when I got a 67% on the provincial diploma exam.  He told me that mark meant more to him than so many of the students who got honors because of the hours of work he saw me put in that did not result in higher grades.  Yet now I was in a master’s program asking for help. Did that mean I did not actually have the stuff to be here?

At the CAC I asked for an editor and received a writing coach!  What a delightful surprise.  Someone who read aloud what I had written and allowed me to hear the lack of coherence and then that same someone asked me to clarify how the ideas related?  These were easy questions and I quickly rattled off the answer and then typed as if the keys were on fire and I had to quickly unload my ideas from my hands.  The words flowed from me because the gift of ADHD is that I learn the material to a level of specificity that most people don’t see.  My brain wants to understand the theory of literacy to the degree that I can disperse the theory into practical application for all the teachers I support.

I would leave an hour’s session at the CAC so excited and energized that many of my cohort group are planning on using the writing supports during the 2018-19 year as we complete our project.  My fellow grad students could not believe I revised 800 words in 45 minutes and took the quality of my writing to a much higher standard.  Not only was my writing more aligned with masters degree benchmarks but my confidence soared after each visit.  I started to realize I could write and that I was in grad school for valid reasons.  I want to help teachers so that I am really helping teenagers embrace the potential they have and encourage them to heal and bring hope to combat some of the ugliness in our world.

Who knew one hour could do so much?  Luckily, I did not, and I was so grateful to have been able to sign up for three hours in my last week.  My writing abilities can almost leap tall buildings in a single bound and it’s just in time.  This master’s project is going to take every writing skill I have and now I have more.

 

About Barb

Barb has taught junior high/middle school for 25 years and is now a literacy consultant with Edmonton Public Schools.  She has taught for many years, in all four disciplines, but landed in English Language Arts.  Her love of diverse learners has allowed Barb to teach the spectrum of learners who are gifted to learners identified with special needs.   Barb is part of the international Freedom Writer Teachers and is looking forward to the year when she finally figures out all there is to know about teaching. She can be reached at barb.melnychuk@epsb.ca

 

 

 

Writing the Dissertation Proposal

By Emanuela Yeung

After finishing my major and minor candidacy exams (which took several years of research), the prospect of writing the Dissertation Proposal (DP) seemed like a daunting and mammoth task. Like many other graduate students, I had a number of different avenues I wanted to explore and had difficulty narrowing down an area of interest, let alone a specific research question. When I began “seriously” working on my DP, months seemed to go by without much progress, yet in the end (after about 6-7 months of reading and note-taking), I was able to write a complete draft in about two weeks. Admittedly, this was surprising to me, as I was used to “big papers” taking months and months of writing; however, looking back I can identify 2 points about writing that helped me better understanding the process.

  1. “Writing” isn’t “typing,” but rather a process that includes reading and note-taking

It did not feel like it at the time, but most of the work that went into my DP was completed during my research visit to the University of Copenhagen. After teaching for two semesters, I was fortunate to have four whole months to focus on my own research and luxuriated (as one of my dissertation committee members put it) in reading whatever I wanted day in and day out. I had gone to Copenhagen with the intention of working on my proposal, but in practice I became interested in the work that was happening at the research centre and read many papers and books that were outside of my own discipline. I filled several notebooks with a seemingly disparate assortment of notes and ideas, and when I returned to Victoria I had to admit to my supervisor that I not made much progress in my “writing.” However, the bulk of my DP ended up being comprised of these notes with just a few transitional and connecting paragraphs and sentences added in. It was in weekly progress meetings with my supervisor that I was able to articulate the common themes the ran through much of what I had been reading, as well as the open questions that had yet to be addressed. These open questions became the starting point for my dissertation project and the background/introduction of the proposal itself.

  1. Reframing the task at hand might be the impetus you need to start

My DP began as a ten-page grant proposal that I decided to apply for five days before the deadline. Given that I had written several funding applications in the past, I was familiar with the structure (background, literature review, objectives, method, implications) and could break the task of writing down into smaller, more specific steps. After submitting this application, I was able to use the proposal as a detailed outline for my DP. What had seemed like an overwhelming task (writing a dissertation proposal from scratch) became much more manageable and I was able to turn the grant application into my proposal in about ten days by expanding on, and adding detail to, the structure that was already there.

I often find the biggest hurdle to writing is getting the first sentence on the blank page, however, it’s important to keep in mind that writing is (long) process that involves reading, doing research, and note-taking. By recognizing this, I find there is less pressure to write so many words or pages a day, and much of my “writing” involves integrating or restructuring notes that I have already written. Moreover, reframing a large project (such as a dissertation proposal) into a series of smaller papers or into a format that I’m already familiar with (e.g., grant proposal) has helped to motivate me to keep moving forward.

Emanuela Yeung

About Emanuela

Emanuela Yeung is a PhD candidate and sessional lecturer in the Department of Psychology. She received her MSc. from UVic in Lifespan Development and BSc. from the University of Toronto in Psychology and Human Biology.

How to build an argument

By Regan Burles

Regan is a PhD student in Political Science, studying political theory and international relations.

 

The first thing to remember is that an argument is not something already in the world, waiting to be discovered, but must be built by you.

 

 

 

 

Almost any academic writing assignment involves making an argument, but for graduate students, building an argument comes with a particular set of challenges. This is because at the graduate level, making an argument is not simply a matter of expressing what we think, but of making an original contribution to a field of study. This involves convincing other academics, who often have considerable experience and expertise, of the value and significance of our views. Even if we know what we think about a given subject, building an argument that accomplishes these goals can be a daunting and difficult task.

The first thing to remember is that an argument is not something already in the world, waiting to be discovered, but must be built by you. This involves articulating the argument itself, identifying relevant and convincing evidence, and developing connections between your argument and existing literature, events, or problems. This can be done in a variety of ways, and it is important to remember that arguments can be constructed differently depending on the discipline they are speaking to, the kind of supporting evidence employed, or the particular style of the author. Sound, compelling arguments can be built with materials and techniques as different as empirical research and analysis and close reading of texts, or synthesis and analysis.

Despite this diversity of methods, I find that the best arguments tend to have the same qualities: thorough, clear, logical, relevant, and critical. This last quality—critical—is particularly important, as it implies that the author has incorporated a consideration of the limits of their own argument into their analysis. This strengthens the argument itself, as it shows the author has thought about the particular beliefs, assumptions, and rationales that inform their own perspective.

A key element of building an effective argument is identifying your audience. Figuring out exactly what your argument is can be challenging, not least because of the need to make an argument that is original. Finding out what others have said about a particular topic can help you identify what is unique about your own position. By identifying similarities and differences between your own position and those of others who study the same subject, you can create what is sometimes called an “argument space,” a set of texts, concepts, and concerns the contours of which can help determine your guiding questions, central concepts, and main interlocutors. When trying to identify your audience, ask, “Which scholars or disciplines might be able to learn from what I am saying? To whom might my argument be most relevant and interesting?”

Once you have constructed a strong, clear argument supported by ample evidence, your task is still not complete. Don’t forget, an argument on its own is insufficient. It is crucial that you have some idea of why and to whom your argument matters. In other words, making a strong argument requires thinking about its implications. This means thinking about your argument as one element in a much broader context, whether that context is a policy arena, a particular set of literatures, or a problem that needs solving. This understanding will inform how you make your argument, what evidence you will gather, and the weight and inflection you will give to both.

Good luck!


Regan Burles is a PhD student in Political Science, studying political theory and international relations. He is also a tutor at the Centre for Academic Communication. He did his MA here at UVic in Political Science and the Cultural, Social & Political Thought Program. Regan has a BA from the University of Ottawa in History and Political Science (French Immersion).

Candidacy Exams: Just get them done!

 By Tracey El  Hajj

If you are a PhD student and candidacy exams are part of your program, you are either already thinking about them or very glad to have completed them (congratulations!). Candidacy exams, in the English Department at least, are structured in a way that allows students to read for months and then take the exam (twice: A Major Field and a Focused Field) either in the form of a take-home exam over a three-day period or an on-campus exam written in five hours. The exams have three major components: preparing, writing, and defending. This post will focus on the writing process for the three-day take-home exam.

First of all, before the day your exam is set to begin, take a moment to realize the amount of information you have acquired over the preparation period, embrace the fact that you have accomplished what you have so far, and acknowledge the fact that you have done your best and the time has come for you to engage with your knowledge and skills. Now you have the questions and you are supposed to pick one from each of the three sections. It goes without saying that you should pick the ones that sound the easiest and most doable for you. However, make sure to choose ones that allow you to cover the different texts you have to engage with and ones that allow you to demonstrate your understanding of the field as fully as possible. Some supervisors advise their students to set a back-up fourth question they could go to as a plan B.

Once you have picked your questions, pick the texts you want to refer to in your answers. Make sure you stick to the number of texts advised in your exam prompt and that the ones you choose do not overlap across questions. Once you have this down, breathe and pat yourself on the back; you’ve already done something. As a next step, outline your answers–yes, all three of them. Writing the outline will reveal to you that you know what you want to talk about and how you are going to approach it. It also eases you into the process of writing, and prepares you for the second and third day of your exam, during which you will be thankful that you don’t really have to do much brainstorming. Note that it is important that you have a thesis, or something close to that, as part of your primary outline. Also note that it is okay if these outlines change a little. Their purpose is to rid you from the heavy load of planning and brainstorming on your two later days, so minor edits are acceptable and even expected. Next, you write.

Start with the question you are least comfortable with. You are on your first day, you are well rested, and quite alert. You can tackle the hardest question. Besides, once you are done with this first answer, you will feel more confident and more comfortable approaching the two “easier” questions. When you are writing, follow the process you are most comfortable with: if you free write then go back, add sources, edit, etc., stick to that; if you write and edit as you go, do that. The point is, this is a very structured setting, so call upon your most confident strategies and adopt them. Make sure, however, that you are aware of the time constraints and that you have time to go back and edit your essays before you submit. In addition, keep going back to your main argument and make sure that your claims speak to it. Just as with any other argumentative piece, your thesis is meant to guide the rest of your work; this exam is no different. Your committee wants to read a work that is clear, concise, and coherent. Though they are aware of your constraints (time and word count), they also know very well how capable you are, and they expect a certain level of competency, nothing you haven’t already achieved. Aim to finish the first question on the first day; set the tone for the rest of the exam. Don’t worry about final editing right away. As you may know by now, it is good to step away from your work and come back to it with a fresh look. However, if you feel like you need to completely finish every question on its own, then do whatever keeps you in a good mental space.

A few things might come up as you are writing. This is a very stressful time; acknowledge that. If you feel the stress creeping up, and you think you need a break, take the break. Go for a walk, grab a coffee with a friend, call someone dear, take a breather. If you engage in a conversation and feel the urge to brainstorm with a friend, do that, jot down some notes while you’re at it. Do whatever you feel will keep you going. You know you can do this, but the setting and the structure are definitely adding to the stress. Some of your colleagues may have smoothly cruised through their exams, and you might as well. But if you don’t, you’re not alone in this. Many students, including myself, give in to the haunting load of candidacy exams; we make it through nonetheless. One way I managed to overcome a writer’s block on day one is a change of scenery. I went to a nearby coffee shop where other students were also immersed in their work. I set a goal (number of words) and only left after I achieved it. Once back in the original setting I automatically acknowledged the progress and felt a little more confident. It’s the little things, the little steps, the brief moments of “I got this” and the large coffees/smoothies/juices/energy drinks or whatever keeps you running. It is important that you eat well and be well rested. These exams are doable, that’s why they’re there. These exams are not meant to be easy though, and that’s also why they’re there. Just write those answers; get it over with!


About Tracey

Tracey is  a PhD student in the English Department at the University of Victoria. She received her Master’s from the American University of Beirut, after developing a Social Network Analysis tool for post-war Lebanese Anglophone novels. She currently works in the field of Digital Humanities, focusing on Critical Technical Practice. Her research focuses on the intersections between computing and culture, looking at how the humanities can help shape more socially aware technologies.  She is also a TA in the English Department and a tutor at the Centre for Academic Communication. Tracey has a passion for teaching alongside research.

Just do it: Enter our contest now!

photo of student writing near a windowGraduate  students:  Tell your writing story

For a chance to win a prize, enter our blog post contest about how the University of Victoria’s extraordinary environment matters to your writing.

Describe where you love to write, take a picture of yourself in that location, and share with us how the amazing environment at the University of Victoria and its environs inspire your writing.

Or, describe who helps you write: a writing group, counsellor, tutor, librarian, instructor, supervisor, or friend? Tell us how this relationship matters to you and your writing and include a photo of yourself and whoever makes UVic an extraordinary environment for you and your writing.

Submit your entries (blog post plus photo) to cdrcac@uvic.ca by 11:59 p.m., February 28, 2018 for a chance to win one of three prizes:

  • First prize: $100 gift certificate at UVic Bookstore
  • Second and third prizes: $50 gift certificates at UVic Bookstore

Winning entries will be published on the Graduate Student Writers’ Community blog.

Please read the Contest RULES

 

 

 

 

Being passionate about your project is not enough: Be specific and plan well

Satty Virdi

By Satinder Virdi

Whenever I am asked what I’m studying at university, my response is always “I’m doing my Masters in Education.” This isn’t technically true as I’m actually completing a Master of Education known as the M.Ed. degree program. Apart from their titles, significant differences exist between a Master of Arts (M.A.) and an M.Ed. degree.

The M.A. in Education is a research degree primarily for students who have an interest in conducting research in the field of education. It is well suited for those who intend to pursue doctorate level study. In order to earn an M.A., students must complete and defend a thesis.

In comparison, the M.Ed. can be classed as a professional degree, which is ideal for licensed educators looking to expand their career options. This degree often focuses on more practical, field-based research and experiences, which critically evaluate educational practices. The M.Ed. does not require a thesis; however, it does contain research elements on par with the standard required by an M.A. This requirement can take the form of a capstone project, development of a portfolio, and/or comprehensive examinations.

At UVic, the final requirement of the M.Ed. program is a comprehensive examination. The penultimate task is the completion of a research project, which cannot include human subjects. The project is typically 50-70 pages and can take a number of different forms. While some projects are more theoretical, the majority aim to serve a practical purpose. Projects can range from policy development to the implementation of arts-based workshops.

The focus of my project is the mental well-being of schoolchildren. I am carrying out research that will be used by the Ministry of Education to establish guidelines for school leaders on how best to support the mental wellness of children in their schools. Mental well-being has become a recurring theme in my work over the last 10 years. During my time as a classroom teacher, I frequently came across students feeling stressed due to the fear of failure. In addition, a course I completed earlier this year sparked my interest in the mental well-being of schoolchildren further. This was a project that was completed for the Ministry of Children and Family Development. It focused on the provision of sexual health education in the schools of British Columbia. According to my research, one of the key elements associated with young people making sensible and informed sexual decisions was directly related to their mental health. This led me to investigate the Ministry of Education’s research priorities. I was unsurprised to learn that mental well-being in schools is a big agenda item for the Ministry at present. This motivated me to involve myself with the project in an attempt to support current research and investigate developments in this area.

My interest and passion for the subject led me straight to the UVic Library. I spent hours searching through various databases to find everything I could that has recently been written on mental well-being. At this point, I had no research questions or framework to work with, and I knew my approach wasn’t ideal. I downloaded paper after paper and had highlighting everywhere! When I attended my research methods class, my project supervisor taught me the importance of being specific. It was exactly what I needed to bring order to the chaos I had unintentionally created. Now that I knew exactly what I was searching for, it also lent a hand in beginning the writing process. There is no set format for writing your project. However, it is a good idea to use a basic outline regardless of the approach you use. Supervisors seem to like the three-part structure and it is what I am using too.

Following an abstract and table of contents, the first part of the write-up is an introductory chapter that explains the overall purpose and objectives of your project. It provides the general context that helps readers understand the problem being tackled and the significance of your research. Chapter two is where you outline the theoretical foundations and framework of your study. References to literature can help demonstrate your understanding of similar studies and the findings of scholars in your area of interest. The final chapter, which is what I am currently working on, is where you showcase your findings. Depending on the type of project you complete, this can take the form of a report, a workshop, or a piece of artwork. As part of the discussion and conclusions section, you can share ideas for further research or make specific recommendations.

At times writing my project has been challenging. Referring back to my original handwritten draft outline is what has always helped me stay on track. In my experience so far, being truly passionate about the subject alone hasn’t proven to be enough. What we learn and what we may know mean very little unless we can translate them into written words. Feedback from my supervisor states that my writing is persuasive and effective, which reassures me that I’m heading in the right direction. Focusing on one aspect at a time and writing in short bursts is working out well for me. As writers, our approaches and styles may vary, but I honestly believe that good planning can help lead the way for us all.

 

About Satty

Satinder (Satty) Virdi is a UK qualified secondary school teacher with 10 years of classroom experience. Since moving to Victoria in August 2016, Satty has been an M.Ed. Leadership Studies student in the Faculty of Education. She is currently completing her final project, which focuses on the mental well-being of schoolchildren. Along with her studies, she also works at the University of Victoria as a CAC tutor and the Teaching Assistant Consultant for the Educational Psychology and Leadership Studies department. Off-campus, Satty works as the Executive Director of The Society of Friends of St. Ann’s Academy; a non-profit organization, which raises awareness of and tackles issues of gender and social justice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3300 Miles, Two Toddlers, and a Dissertation

By Tanya Manning-Lewis

Tanya Manning-Lewis

Writing is a journey. It is an emotional, physical, and psychological journey graduate students have to be willing to take to get to that state of academic fulfillment. For many of us, it is one of the most difficult journeys to take, and we rarely experience true contentment with the final product, but still we press on. My life, like writing, is a journey, and a constant reference point of why I should write. After travelling thousands of miles with two toddlers to do my PhD, it is a journey I am now fully committed to whether I am ready or not! Writing my dissertation in a timely manner is the journey I must take that justifies uprooting my family to pursue a degree. I am among the myriad students who experience this crippling fear of giving up everything to move to another province or country to pursue higher education. But this blog post does not dwell on the challenges, rather on how to overcome these and move beyond the typical excuses of “why I can’t write” to actually writing. It looks at how we can carve out spaces in our very busy lives to meet the demands of writing as a graduate student and ultimately accomplish our goals.

On my journey as a writer, PhD candidate, tutor, and instructor, I have learned a few lessons, albeit not necessarily from academic scholars, that have supported my writing.

The first lesson I have learned is that we all need a supportive community of writers. We need colleagues who are experiencing similar challenges and successes to support us. I have two supportive communities for my writing. First, I meet monthly with a group of international students to share our graduate experiences including writing. Many of us within the group struggle to balance family and writing demands for projects, conferences, and journals. In these sessions, we share tips, sources, and strategies that are useful in helping us to achieve our writing targets for the month. The Centre for Academic Communication (CAC) is one resource we continually refer to as a strong support for our writing. This group is most useful in encouraging me to stay on track and reminds me I am not alone–which is key to graduate work that can be so isolating.

Another supportive writing community is the “Shut up and Write” sessions co-created by Linda Edworthy and myself. This is a concept originating from the San Francisco Bay area in which graduate students are encouraged to meet for two hours each week to simply write. Five minutes are allotted after each 25-minute writing session to engage your fellow writers in discussion. These intense writing sessions have been incredibly useful in getting me to really zone in on my research topic, build on original ideas, and synthesize content.

The second lesson that I have learned is to be fearless with your writing. Take risks–it will strengthen you as a writer. Surprisingly this revelation came from my older son whom I watch adapt to a new way of life in a different country with such zest and openness. While he struggled a bit with contextual differences and communicating, it never stopped him. He wakes up each day just as enthusiastic as the day before to learn and try new things, and soon I see him blossom into this confident, sociable, and thriving student.  At this point, I think to myself, why not approach my writing with the same level of enthusiasm and fearlessness? So what if I fail at it sometimes? So what if I write an entire draft and someone says, “I don’t get it”? What does this mean for me? It means it is not a critique of me as a person, but my writing. It means I will have to be open to criticism and suggestions if I truly intend to grow as a writer. I will face rejection from journals and other institutions, but it is no excuse not to write. It is by writing that I will hone my skills. The moral of this, we should not burden ourselves with the thought of being perfect writers at all times. If you have a story or point of view to share, go ahead and share it. Your work is important, and your writing is your avenue to do that. Feeding into your fear will not only deprive you of the benefits of sharing your work, but your colleagues who would have profited from your insights. Many of my colleagues in my home country thought I was a bit crazy to move my family over 3000 miles to pursue a PhD. It may have been a crazy thought, but if there is one thing I have learned from this journey, it is you have to be willing to take risks. It was quite risky asking my husband to give up his flourishing career for five years to support my educational pursuits and most certainly risky moving with my two young sons not knowing how they will adjust to life in another country. But what is a journey without some risks? The same principle applies to writing; we have to take risks sometimes, put our writing out there for others to see what we are doing and not let our fears of the unknown cripple us. Often, we are so petrified at the thought of sharing our writing with others, we fail even to begin the process.

Writing this blog is certainly one way I am conquering my fear of sharing my writing. Here I am sharing my failures and triumphs with my own writing. I am hoping this will encourage you to break free from your own writing shackles.

Finally, I would say one of the most important lessons I have learned is to avoid the trap of complacency. While it has been difficult balancing family, school, and work, I have learned and am still learning that it is important to set aside time to write daily and commit to it. I have never missed one of the writing meetings with any of the groups. This commitment allows me to get some writing done, which is critical to my growth as a graduate student. I have also learned to be intentional about my writing and set goals so I am motivated to do so and not become complacent. I realize that the optimum time for me to write is at 10 pm when everyone is in bed. Hence, my goal each night is to commit at least 2 hours of writing to either my research or any publication I may be working on. Having these set targets force me to get the writing done, even when I would rather sleep. My constant reminder is that my journey is not mine alone, but that of my family as well.

Whatever your journey may be, you have to carve your own path to academic writing success. It does take work, but as is proven by many before us, it is achievable. While these are some of the strategies I use, there is a multiplicity of support systems for graduate students’ writing. It is important to find what works for you and commit yourself to doing it.

About Tanya

I am from the beautiful and welcoming island, Jamaica. I attained both my Bachelor in Education (Language & Literature) and Masters in Education (Language & Literacy) at the University of the West Indies, Jamaica. I have been a teacher of English and Literature for 14 years and  Lecturer for over 6 years. I am currently a PhD student in the Faculty of Education, Department of Curriculum and Instruction with special interests in language and literacy. My research focuses on four Jamaican adolescent boys’ (from low income families) almost exclusive use of Jamaican Creole (JC) and the impact on their academic success in a selected school in Jamaica, a country that only recognizes English as its official language in spite of the fact that 92% of the population experience great difficulty speaking it and the same percentage are fluent JC speakers.

Tanya tutors at the Centre for Academic Communication

 

Writing to get your ideas heard

Qian Liu

By Qian Liu

Writing is a process of thinking. In the process, ideas are recorded and become important sources for further thinking. Publication is a by-product of this process. Instead of keeping your ideas to yourself, publishing your work is a way to communicate with others and makes the journey of thinking less lonely.  At the very beginning of my Ph.D. program, senior students in our program told me that being a Ph.D. student is very isolating, as you spend too much time in the carrel alone working on something that people do not care about. They said that you may end up spending five years writing a dissertation that only your supervisory committee members will read carefully. This does not discourage me to continue my studies, because I believe that writing a dissertation helps me address the questions that I am always trying to address or know more about. Besides, there are always plenty of opportunities out there to have our ideas heard during the process of dissertation writing.

One good thing about conducting a research study that you are passionate about is that often there are moments when you feel that it is your responsibility as a scholar to get your ideas out both inside and outside academia. Doing research on the impact of law on Chinese women’s choices in marriage and childbearing, I always feel the need to say something when I see any chance to contribute to social and legal changes to benefit women. In 2015, I wrote a commentary for Blogging for Equality when the law’s denial of Chinese single women’s access to freeze their eggs became a hot topic worldwide after a famous 41-year-old Chinese actress and film director announced that she had travelled to the U.S. to freeze her eggs. When feminist activists and lawyers in China put forward a report titled “Single Women’s Reproductive Rights—A Research Report on Policy and Lived Experience” and received media attention worldwide, I published an op-ed for Impact Ethics and argued that an overemphasis on state law’s impact on unmarried women’s childbearing may shift our attention away from some other social norms that are more influential than state law in stopping Chinese women from being single mothers by choice.

“Instead of keeping your ideas to yourself, publishing your work is a way to communicate with others and makes the journey of thinking less lonely.”

I also write journal articles and book chapters, but I have realized that it is more rewarding and enjoyable to write commentaries (also known as “op-eds”). Journal articles and book chapters may contribute to the knowledge in your academic field, while writing op-eds is a better way to disseminate knowledge to the general public and get your ideas out quickly. I remember it took me more than half a year to develop my first major publication for the Asian Journal of Law and Society, with quite a few emails back and forth with the editors. A commentary, however, usually only takes a few days before your ideas are delivered to the public. More importantly, op-eds can be very influential. In August 2017, I received an invitation from BBC World News to comment on Chinese women’s egg freezing issues for their live show. The journalists contacted me because they found my commentaries online when they were looking for a legal expert to speak about this issue. Although I may not be among the most influential scholars in the field of women’s studies and women’s rights, I got this opportunity because of my willingness to share my research outside academia.

I am very grateful to my supervisors Gillian Calder and Maneesha Deckha, as well as the founder of Informed Opinions, Shari Graydon, for always encouraging me to write op-eds about my work. As an international student coming directly from China, I had no experience in writing commentaries for Canadian blogs. Fortunately, my supervisor recommended Informed Opinions to me, and I learned how to write op-eds from this website. The website provides a variety of resources, which includes op-ed elements, engaging openers, editors’ advice, submitting commentary, turning media requests into opportunities, and even building relationships with reporters and columnists. If my experience convinces you to start the very enjoyable journey of blogging, you may find this website helpful to you as a beginner.

You may be wondering whether you, as a graduate student, have the authority to speak to the public about a particular topic. This thought haunted me for a long time. Sometimes, however, somebody just needs to stand out. A message from Shari after my BBC interview reconfirmed the belief that I should get my ideas heard by the public. Shari said, “diverse women’s voices are so necessary to address topics that otherwise get little attention.” Still not sure whether you can write and publish commentaries? As I said before, writing is a process of thinking and publication is the by-product of this process. If you understand writing and publishing in this way, you will find that publishing is simply a way to share your imperfect ideas in order to get some useful comments to help you think.

Qian Liu is a Ph.D. candidate at the Faculty of Law, University of Victoria, Canada. Her research interests include gender and China, legal consciousness, legal pluralism, feminist legal theory, reproductive rights, law and policy implementation in China, and qualitative research. Qian is the recipient of an IDRC Doctoral Research Award from the International Development Research Centre, Canada. She has published in the Asian Journal of Law and Society and the Asian Journal of Women’s Studies. Please direct correspondence to Qian Liu at liuqian@uvic.ca.

 

 

The abstract is “an argument, writ small”

By Madeline Walker

The word abstract is a bit confusing.  When I looked up this word in the dictionary, I found the first definition is for the adjective, to do with “thought rather than matter, or in theory rather than practice; not tangible or concrete.” Thus an abstract concept, such as love, good, or evil, has no physical referent. The noun definition is “a summary of or statement of the contents of a book.” When you write an abstract for an article, thesis, or conference, you are “abstracting” (a rarely used verb form of the word, meaning to extract or pull out) some key bits from the whole. Yet contrary to the adjectival meaning of the word (non-concrete), it’s a good idea not to be too “abstract” when writing your abstract! An abstract abstract is likely to be ineffective because your goal is to deliver a clear picture of your research in your reader’s mind, and abstract language won’t do that. When you have only a few words to say a great deal, you had better be as concrete as possible in order to deliver your purpose to the reader directly.

I am a big fan of Thomson and Kamler’s four-move abstract described in Detox Your Writing: Strategies for Doctoral Researchers (available as an e-book in our library). Their model works well for all types of abstracts, and it can also be used to kick-start your writing. Thomson and Kamler write that the abstract is not a summary—it’s actually an “argument, writ small,” and it must contain your central argument in abstracted form.  You might say, “Well mine is a computer science article—I don’t really have an argument.”  I imagine T & K would respond that any piece of academic writing can be abstracted into an argument. You are trying to persuade the reader that your computer science finding/development/algorithm contributes to the research/makes a difference in some way. And that’s an argument. Here are Thomson and Kamler’s moves; please refer to the chapter “Learning to argue” (pp. 83–106) in Detox Your Writing for more information and samples of ineffective/effective abstracts.

LOCATE: this means placing your paper in the context of the discipline community and the field in general. Larger issues and debates are named and potentially problematized. In naming the location, you are creating a warrant for your contribution and its significance, as well as informing an international community of its relevance outside of its specific place of origin.

FOCUS: this means identifying the particular questions, issues or kinds of problems that your paper will explore, examine and/or investigate.

REPORT: this means outlining the research, sample and/or method of analysis in order to assure readers that your paper is credible and trustworthy, as well as the major findings that are pertinent to the argument to be made.

ARGUE: this means opening out the specific argument through offering an analysis. This will move beyond description and may well include a theorisation in order to explain findings. It may offer speculations, but will always have a point of view and take a stance. It returns to the opening Locate in order to demonstrate the specific contribution that was promised at the outset. (Thomson & Kamler, 2016, p. 92)

The authors encourage you to keep writing and rewriting your abstract throughout the broader writing process; each time, you will  refine it further. Try preparing a draft abstract of your article/thesis, regardless of the stage you are at. You’ll be surprised at how it focuses your writing and cements your motivation.  I’ve had more than one student tell me it worked to get them writing again after a dry spell.

Call for graduate student blog post writers!

A huge thank you to all of our student writers so far this year: Kaveh Tagharobi, Russell Campbell, Kate Ehle, Marta Bashovski, Cindy Quan, Jonathan Faerber, and Arash Isapour.  Your writing resonated with so many of your fellow graduate students. Thank you for taking the time to craft wonderful posts and share your experience.

We need more student writers for the 2017/2018 academic year, so please consider writing for us.  We need students from different disciplines and backgrounds and at various stages of study to volunteer to write for the blog. Your topic can be anything related to academic communication and graduate students; see the guidelines here. If you feel uncertain that your writing skills are sufficient to the task, please make an appointment with me cdrcac@uvic.ca  I’ll be happy to coach you on how to improve your draft until we are both happy with it.  As Peter Elbow says, “Everybody can write.”

Additionally, we need some specific topics covered this year, and perhaps one of these attracts you:

  • The “thesis by publication” or article-based dissertation. This model, popular in the sciences and social sciences, requires that you write three or more “publishable” articles (plus weave them into a whole with intro/conclusion). Although the book-length dissertation is still with us, the article-based version is definitely a trend in our university, and I’d love somebody to write about it. Are you a student who is following this model or considering it?
  • Writing in different disciplines. Perhaps you are writing an interdisciplinary thesis, dissertation, or article and you need to negotiate with supervisors from various faculties. How’s that going for you? We would love to hear from you if you’ve had this experience or you have written in different disciplines (say, you did your MA or MSc in one area and are doing your PhD in a different one).  What have you learned about disciplinary differences in writing?
  • Communicating with your supervisor.  Okay, this may seem elementary, but some of us have struggled for hours to craft communication with supervisors or other professors.  EAL students unfamiliar with the Canadian university context may find this especially difficult. Would you like to write about this challenge and some strategies that have worked for you?

Don’t want to write, but want to read about something in particular? Please email me to suggest a specific blog post topic: cdrcac@uvic.ca.

We are taking a break for August, and the next post will be published in mid-September. Happy summer everybody, and thank you for reading the blog.

 

 

 

First diary entry of “The Little Prince” who just arrived in Victoria from his far home planet

By Arash Isapour

New Ph.D. student Arash Isapour arrived in Victoria only six months ago.

The moment I received my admission letter from UVic, I experienced a weird feeling of anxiety, which was a combination of happiness and stress. Right off the bat, I can continue my educational career at the Ph.D. level, but at the same time, this Ph.D. fella felt the duty to come to grips with his academic flaws which are gathered under one title: language.

As a Theatre History student, I am aware that everything I’m dealing with is under the shadow of my English language abilities, including academic and literary writing, reading (not just journals or mathematical articles), speaking (not just at parties or for dating but for being a part of the interaction in a methodology class), and listening (not to Roger Waters’ new album but to a fast speaking English professor whose tongue takes you to the 18th century). And by the way, language is not just language, it is considered as a conveyor of culture.

As you can see, during my first days at UVic, I encountered all the aforementioned challenges at the same time with not even an epsilon of exaggeration. It was not just at the university but everywhere else I went. The neighborhood I am living in looks like a Hobbit village (Oak Bay). Not only were the people smiling at me but also the dogs. In public places, from groceries to banks, from standing at bus stops to sitting in non-stopping buses, people started conversations, and what I gave back was a smile, pretending as if I deeply got what they said, but I did not. The interesting thing was that they were not surprised by seeing me speak like a Martian, in other words like E.T. So, unexpectedly, I saw myself plunged into all these states. My first class was a methodology course in which the sweet, energetic professor wanted us to read books and essays by critical thinkers from Frye to Nietzsche, from Freud to Kristeva, from Hegel to Marx (my beloved), from McLuhan to Fredric Jameson (The reader killer, even for English speaking folks). I not only had to read and grasp all these frameworks but also had to discuss my opinions on them in class, each session. For the first days, the phrase “HOLY SMOKES” kept playing in my mind. I started recording the prof’s voice in class and tried to talk during class, despite the fact that I knew most of my words would make no damn sense, and those people were really looking at me as if they were saying “What in heaven’s name is he talking about!?” My self-esteem started to tremble as “The Earth Trembles” (My favorite Italian Movie).

In this dilemma, I had to choose either the easy way—let it go to any direction it wants to like the  wind—or the hard and better way—stand still and choose my own path even if it is against the stream. I might still be a successful Ph.D. student in the arts and humanities if I select the first, but I would definitely be a prosperous and industrious scholar from the beginning if I choose the second. In other words, when you find yourself in the uncomfortable zone, you either choose to surrender and pull back or challenge whatever jams you up. The first would be like a boring love story movie, and the second would be like an unpredictable romantic movie, such as “La La Land.”

So what I did was a bunch of silly sounding stuff that works:

  • I asked my sweet landlady to correct me whenever I speak, and she happily accepted to be my home teacher (which is free). And because she is from the 70s, I have learned a lot of nice expressions and am still learning. An example would be what people said when it was the first of May starting with “Hooray, hooray, it’s the first of May . . . . ” As you can see, I am learning a new culture, not just language in a technical way.
  • I carry a notebook with me wherever I go to write down whatever I hear from people in public places, see on the walls, hear from movies, TV series, and everything I need to learn while I’m reading something, from a book to an article, even if it is about my own country’s political and social news.
  • I make ten sentences with the new words to memorize them.
  • I read novels and stories in English that I have always wanted to read but never had time to. Now it has become a constant five-gold-star mandatory pleasure.
  • I go to the Centre for Academic Communication at the McPherson Library and try to learn everything I know about writing based on the papers I write. I share whatever I am confused about the language and ask as many questions as I need to ask, even if they make me look like a dummy, which might be cute.
  • I try not to meet too many people from my own nation, obliging me to speak English in order to keep the dynamic of my training zone. Remember, the more you are in the training zone, the more you improve in your career.

If you keep doing all these in an organized manner, gradually you will see yourself overcoming barriers. And you move to the next level of improvements. Yeah! It is exactly like a video game. But keep it steady and be patient. Some of these things are not new; you just have to deal with your daily jobs (e.g., reading news, watching movies, going out with friends), but you ought to use only the secondary language for all of these, except in one case: when you are speaking with your parents.

Arash Isapour arrived in Victoria in January 2017 from Tehran. He is a PhD student at UVic’s Phoenix Theatre. Besides being literature-crazy, he is a film buff, in other words a walking movie database.