What have you done, then?

I was rather horrified this week to receive an email asking me - and the other first year PhD students - to give a talk at the bi-monthly postgraduate seminar about how our research is progressing. My initial reaction was "But I've only been here a few weeks!", quickly replaced by "Oh God, it's nearly December..." And hey presto, you've all the necessary ingredients for a bout of depression, self-recrimination and anxiety.

It's something I continue to marvel at, that having left a career-route in the NHS mental health services to follow an academic path, I see many more instances of these mild problems than I ever did in the Adult Psychological Therapies Service. (To be fair, many of these instances may be mine...) This feeling of inadequacy we apparently all feel at various points is tricky in nature. Every time, I believe I am the only person to believe I have gone no where, that I have done nothing worthwhile, and that I am just waiting to be "found out" and dishonourably discharged. However, spend even just a tiny amount of time googling PhD Panic and you get a huge number of hits.

What do you know, I'm not the only person to have felt this way.

So returning from my emotional crises tangent, what have I done in the last couple of months? My first instinct is to say "Not very much", but my more rational mind reminds me to take a second to think about that answer, because I haven't spent all of the last couple of months on Facebook and playing World of Warcraft. (Just a little of the time).

I believe that what I have done so far is to lay a foundation. No, I haven't carried out an experiment yet. I have, however, submitted ethics and am just waiting for them to be returned. I also have my ethics for my next experiment written up, with just a couple of things to be added (based on the outcome of my pilot) before they can be submitted. I've also created an experiment plan. In other words, I've spent time thinking about my big question and what sorts of investigations I'd need to carry out to answer it.

I've spent a lot of time reading. Sometimes, reading is hard. It can be tiring and monotonous sifting through a seemingly endless pile of possibly relevant papers. I may have not written anything yet, or even developed a particularly tangible "story" in the literature, but I still think I've learned something. I'm beginning to see what makes a good paper and what makes a bad one. I'm beginning to think critically, on more than just a surface level.

Maybe the most important thing I've done in my first couple of months is settle in. I've learned how I like to work, I've met everyone in the department (and begun to be known by a few people too). I've developed friendships with my fellow PhD-first years, even though I kind of knew them already I do feel we've become closer. I've picked a second supervisor, and surprised myself by identifying him as someone I do really feel I could trust and like very much. I've gone to talks, seminars and presentations. I've started making plans for the long-term in my PhD and started to ask questions. Can I do this? Is this sort of experiment possible? Can I go to that conference? Could I work with this person?

So maybe I don't have much on paper. Nevertheless, when I actually think about it, I realise I've done some pretty important groundwork. The best thing about that, of course, means that the only way I can go is up.

Academic Underground

So, life got a little in the way last week in ways I won't go into, but having returned 'life-as-usual' I'm back to blogging too.

What I want to write about today is about something, up until now, I thought only existed in fiction and The Sims 2. What am I talking about? Secret societies. After a little more reading, I am aware there are several famous ones both in the US and Oxbridge here in the UK. (However, famous secret societies seem something of a contradiction).

What has surprised me even more is that there's a secret society in my own university! Apparently, this is a society for whisky lovers known only (unsurprisingly) as 'The Secret Whisky Society'. Amongst all the rumours and myths, I've gathered some intelligence on how to join said society. According to the legend, you need to present a bottle of whisky to society members when there are at least three present at one time. There are two catches to this seemingly simple plan:

1. You must present a bottle of whisky the society hasn't seen before. If you give them one they've already got, they drink it and you don't get in. Present a new bottle and you get in (but they still drink it).
2. No one knows who is in the society, apart from members of the society themselves.

I only know this from a friend who inadvertantly discovered the identity of one of the members, who was telling a story about how another academic had been boasting about being in the secret whisky society. However, our own academic knew he wasn't because he was a member himself! It's very convoluted, but I have to applaud their dedication to the cause. How cool is your society, if people are lying about being in it?!

Not only that, but I've heard tell of another society coming to life in the university. I don't know much about that one, but I'll do some digging. Maybe I can even join! Let's just say it's one of the things on my "Cool things to do other than my PhD" list.

Eureka

Last Friday, I had a meeting with my supervisor to discuss some of the literature I'd been reading. I think it's fair to say I was struggling a little. My project is novel - which is great! - but I was finding it increasingly difficult to ground it in the literature - not so great. It is the type of project that draws on many different areas, but doesn't really belong to any. So, having stressed out for a week, I plucked up the courage to say "Help!!". Let me tell you, I came out of the meeting saying "Best. Day. Ever!" like Rapunzel in Tangled.

Have you ever had the experience of finishing a conversation with a great idea, but being unsure where that idea came from, what exactly triggered it or who's idea it was? All you know is that it is just brilliant. That is what my meeting was like.

Through our conversation, my supervisor and I identified not so much an error in our thinking, but the point at which we had stumbled. The great thing as well is that it hasn't rendered what I've already done useless. In fact, I don't think we could have drawn these conclusions without the work I've done already. Now, we have the opportunity to build and move on from that, let the idea grow and blossom and suddenly, we had three new experiments planned with a multitude of ways to look at the data and most importantly, a renewed enthusiasm and excitement about the project.

Truly one of the best feelings in the world, and I can understand why people strive to feel it again and again. I might not quite have run naked through the streets, but I certainly announced my joy to Facebook and anyone who would listen (and some who wouldn't). Awesome.

From under the marking pile

I've been somewhat absent for the last 10 days or so, being under my first pile of marking. Relatively small to some, seemingly huge to me. Marking second year undergraduate work has surprised me with how little I remember of what it is like to be one of them. Before dissertation and final year exams, before working all hours to get PhD applications just so - it's all a blur.

I am having a short break before beginning on my next pile of marking. (And I mean around half an hour, not a couple of days... unfortunately). I think it's necessary to get out of that zone where the world gets tuned out and my brain is reduced to scoring, key phrases and frustration with students' inability to reference.

I'm also writing today though, because the monotony of marking is blanketing out a small but rising panic. I believe I am encountering the first stages of PhD Panic (with touches of imposter syndrome) where the voice in the back of my head vacilates between feelings of inadequacy, inability and sheer stupidity to being overwhelmed with the enormity of a thesis and a PhD project as a whole.

This is something I am aware everyone goes through. My calm, grown-up internal voice is telling me to just be patient and sit with these concerns, that they are a part of the process and trying to block them out will just make them worse anyway. It's early days and I am perhaps being too hard on myself.

So really, this post is about riding the wave. By next time, perhaps I'll be a little less panicky and a bit more under control. I think coloured pens and pencils are required.

Growing arms and legs

Once you're settled in and are used to the rhythm of the academic life in your university, it can be a little bit difficult - I reflect after only being here three weeks, I know - to figure out how exactly you want to map out your own progress. As I mentioned in my last post, I'm currently waiting for my supervisor to review my ethics so that I can submit the application to the ethics board and hopefully begin my pilot.

What I'm discovering though, is that even something as simple as a pilot with only two participants can grow arms and legs. My study uses a portable eye tracker mounted on glasses frames. It has two cameras: one that points at the eye and one that views the scene. Once you compile the two, you get a pretty idea of where a person is fixating within the scene their head is pointed at (to put it very uneloquently). In theory, this is great! No more bite bars or chin rests, much more resemblance to real-world vision, what could go wrong? Well, those things are true, but there's some underlying complexities in there too.

Adjusting cameras (whilst being terrified I might break it), getting the balance of the calibration right, allocating the right amount of time etc. are all procedural things that I'm sure I'll get used to. After having a bit of a practise using the eye tracking and collecting some arbitrary footage, I'm getting a better picture of the sheer extent of data two participants will produce.

It has at least given me several new questions to answer: How much do I really need to know about where a participant looks? What's important to where they look? Do I really need a frame by frame breakdown?

At the moment, I am sitting on my hands - at least in regards to this - until ethics are approved, but these questions are churning over and I hope that that's something I can figure out soon, so I can best figure out how to run my pilot. The point of this post, I suppose, is to remind myself to think small. It's something I really need to learn, because look how something as small as two participants can grow into something big!

Let's hope the data grows into something big too :)

Earning your keep

I'm aware I keep saying this, but I still find it really hard to believe that already we're nearly done with September. Now it's really time to start putting my skills to use.

One way I'll be doing that very soon is to start earning my keep. The deal with a studentship (at least within my own School) is that PhD students funded by the School earn a certain amount as a stipend no questions asked with no work involved, other than your PhD of course. In addition to this, you can earn extra income through marking undergraduate essays/reports or teaching undergraduate research classes. This year I’m doing marking and I’ve been lucky or unlucky depending on how you look at it in that all my marking falls within a four week period this semester, then another four week period next semester. Good because it gets it over and done with, bad because that’s a really big chunk of time where I’m going to have no time for anything else. I’m sure you will soon find out just how well I’m managing that particular dilemma.

The other way in which I’m starting to use my accrued skills is to run my first experiment. This is exciting and terrifying in a way I can’t seem to convey in words. I think most likely actually “doing something” is exciting because it feels like progress, but terrifying too because I’ve not really run my own experiments since my undergraduate dissertation. Let’s just say, they don’t exactly feel comparable.

My pilot is nice and simple with just two participants. I have a magic trick selected and I’m intending simply to find out what happens when they try to learn it. Well, I might add that it sounds simple, but the amount of data that’s going to come out the other end is ridiculous. It’s certainly giving me an appreciation for why natural-environment eye tracking studies have fewer participants. You’ve screeds and screeds of eye movement data to get through and doing that for 100 participants would be a close approximation of a “kill me now” situation.

I’m not sure how soon I can get it up and running as I’ve yet to find out the ethics situation, but it’s more than likely going to be after my marking marathon. I’m getting prepared though, and with perhaps one more meeting with my supervisor, I might even start booking some time slots in the lab. Exciting times!

Early days

It's now week two of the academic year and I am slowly settling into postgraduate life.

I have an office (how exciting!) which will hopefully soon have my name on the door. And yes, you will be subjected to photographic proof. I've met people and shook hands and attended talks including one by Keith Rayner (psycholinguistics celeb) who also came to our Lab pub lunch on Friday. I've been to classes, I've learned how to use a mobile eye tracker and I've slowly started adding to my stationery and book collections in my office.

Up until now, it's been a bit of a whirlwind, but there are some very vivid moments of panic interspersed amongst them. If I'm honest, those mostly consist of thoughts like "They all know loads! You have to understand things to ask questions... I'm so far behind!" and "I really hope they don't find out how little I know about [insert whatever the current subject is] or they won't want me as a PhD student anymore!" and, of course, "Where the hell do I start?!" I've been assured by my supervisor and many others that these are feelings that everyone experiences at some time or other. Know it, but doesn't stop it.

The question of where I start is the most pertinent to me just now. I've begun by familiarising myself with a bit about eye tracking in real world scenarios as this was something I didn't know much about and made sense to have that background to help me shape my reading. Now, I'm trying to put together some rough ideas for a first experiment, which is a lot harder than I could have imagined. I take each day at a time, and am slowly building up a picture of where I need to start investigating and what I need to start reading about. It has given me a real appreciation of what previous PhD students I've known meant when they told me I'd need to be very blinkered. As soon as you start looking at what X, Y and Z are doing, you're making unfair comparisons because we've all come to this with different knowledge, experience and research topics.

So, blinkers on, I wonder what I'll get up to this week. Pub night tonight, for a start. I have my priorities straight. :)