Happy New Year!

My goodness, it feels a long long while indeed since I was last here. The Finland conference was but three months ago, but conceptually is much further away. Somehow taking a summer off has given me the distance I needed to recharge my academic self-confidence and creativity. And after the madness of June and three conferences almost back-to-back, I feel like I can face anything now. Anything. Famous last words..?

Yes, June was too busy really to take in anything much: the Warwick postgraduate conference was fine, but I was tired and a little under-organised, and didn't really make the most of it as an opportunity to engage with another research community. My presentation went well, though, and my audience of 7 asked some stimulating questions and got a bit of chat going, which was a change from my previous conference. The Manchester School of Education Student Conference was also (more or less) fine, though IT felt rather tired and was certainly poorly organised - the chair for my session announcing, on entering the room, that we actually had 10 minutes to present instead of the scheduled 20, with a hurried compromise for 15 negotiated just as I was about to start speaking - but it was good to see what my colleagues are up to, and a useful opportunity to air some of my thoughts about Bakhtin. I do think now, though, that there is much room for improvement in my presentations: the Finland conference, where I was presenting for the first time, was really just about getting it done, about reaching that milestone; but with the other two, and particularly my Manchester presentation, it became clear to me that I'm too wordy, too complex, and essentially presenting a condensed written text. I think perhaps I'm so complacent about my written communicative ability that I expect this to carry over into my presentations, and of course it doesn't. This will be a focus for this year, starting with the Society for Research into Higher Education Newer Researchers' Conference in Newport in December: I'll be presenting my thoughts on motivation and critical EAP to an interdisciplinary group of HE researchers, and will be unable to assume anything like the level of knowledge and expertise of my previous audiences. The first of many challenges this year...

My submission to Gender and Education was rejected, which was far less of a disappointment than I expected it to be - possibly because it wasn't directly connected with my doctoral work and doesn't have the same level of emotional involvement. Anyway, the chief criticism was that the scale of it was too small, which gives me a useful frame of reference regarding scope; and I've come away from it feeling like I've had a trial run at something for which I'll know how to be much better prepared in the future. And, importantly, to ask for help with - but that too, I think, will be easier now I have a clearer idea of what is expected. That was the fear, actually - that if I brought my work to someone saying I wanted to try and publish it, someone I knew, they might think me ridiculously deluded; but from an anonymous reviewer it's far, far easier to take. And besides, having done it once, I now know that no-one WILL think me ridiculously deluded - or if they do, it'll almost certainly never get back to me. Wow - see, this is why blogging's great. I've only just articulated that. There's always a bend in the learning curve...

So this is looking rather like a review of recent(ish) developments, which might be a good way to leave it, as for the verbally unchallenged such as myself these blog posts can easily over-extend themselves. I have thoughts on the future to spew forth also, but to keep it continent I'll end this here and blog again later in the week, when meetings have been had and thoughts/autumn skirts have been gathered.

From my splendid new study at Plas Heulwen, and the lovely rusting tree outside my window - am hwyraf!

Ups and downs and merry-go-rounds

A Good Thing happened this week, and also a Less-Good-In-An-Immediate-Sense-But-Ultimately-Good Thing, both as a result of all this public profiling on blogs and websites and such things as wot da kidz like to get down wiv. I've reached out to the world and the world has reached out to me in response - and it's good to be reminded of that reciprocity, of the connectedness of all things.

Having posted on the Language Teacher Education blog that I was submitting an article to Gender and Education, I got an email from a colleague suggesting, in very friendly and collegial terms, that I seek help and advice from my colleagues when involved in such an undertaking, as it is something of a big deal. He deduced that I hadn't done so from my supervisor's response to my announcement (something along the lines of 'What are you publishing, and where?'), and told me that this particular supervisor had been invaluable in helping him shape his own work. No big thing, on the surface - very supportive, and a pleasing reminder that people want to engage with me and my work. But it was painful to read, and tapped into a raw feeling: it was a reminder of the extent to which I'm still blocking full participation in the academic community. I've been struggling with the loneliness of academic life and the endless examining of the inside of my own head, and as a result of this ambivalence I've been resisting the very thing that might have made me feel better - reaching out to people. I felt a little ashamed of myself at this recognition, and at the fact that not only did I not ask for help but that it never occurred to me to do so. And I've made something of an identity shift in response: whereas before I thought my self-starter, getting-on-with-it mentality was ideal for PhD study, now I'm seeing it as just another trait to be held in balance - sometimes it will serve me well, and sometimes it will need challenged. (Oh - I do enjoy it when Scottish English creeps into my idiom...)

And the Good Thing... A few days ago I got a phonecall from a student in Denmark, also studying motivation for learning English, who had been guided to my website by one of my collegues here in Manchester and was interested in sharing ideas. It was very exciting, as I don't really know anyone else working in the L2 motivation field, and testament to the power of networking. We've been exchanging emails and he has inspired me to contact some of the people whose work I've been reading, to introduce myself and ask if they can put me/us in touch with any students they know with similar research interests. So I'm starting to feel like a participant in a community, with some control and (of course) agency in terms of shaping my role within that community. And it feels good.

And that's me for now, with nothing to report except that I have a sore throat in the midst of all the spring loveliness, which is just wrong. And that I saw a particularly depressing piece of graffiti in a pub loo over the weekend, saying GIRLS, MAN THE FUCK UP AND GET SOME SELF-ESTEEM. Thanks for that, genius. If ever there were an indication of why girls' self-esteem may be at risk...

First article submission

Ahhh - a beautiful sunny weekend we've just had, more June than April, and I got myself nicely sunburned on the beach at Porth Dafarch and atop Barclodiad y Gawres, Anglesey, North Wales. Sadly I hadn't brought my swimming togs, though the sea was bone-achingly cold even for a paddle; certainly my compadres thought so, as they sat on the beach clad in grey-and-black trainers and hoodies, watching me wade in my sundress. Ah well. With a nod to the Derridean proclivities of one of my co-Cymrics: Vive la differance.

Just submitted my first article to a peer-reviewed journal - in this case, Gender and Education. Am quite delighted at having something of which I'm proud enough to submit (whether its quality is commensurate with my pride is another matter); but, more immediately, at having hauled myself through the online submission process.

For.It.Is.Tedious. And no-one tells you this stuff. I had to:


a) download a Word template to tell me what headings went where and in what font/style;

b) excise my table from the body of the text, indicating only [Table 1 near here], and put it in a separate document;

c) rewrite my references in Chicago style, with initial line-overhang;

d) rewrite my abstract in 200 words, according to the publisher's direction; then saw the journal's stipulation of a max. 150-word abstract and rewrote it again;

e) write a cover letter with a 'statement of relevance' - why my article is of interest to the journal and what is novel about it;

f) choose preferred reviewers - well, I didn't have to do this, but I did. I just assumed the journal itself would send to appropriate reviewers, but it seems there is the option to give the names of two or three people you think might read your work from a sympathetic standpoint. Again - no-one tells you this stuff. After mildly panicked consultation with my vastly more experienced Dr and PhD housemates, Aggie Hirst and Chris Rossdale, I suggested two academics who have been particularly influential for me - but still feel uncomfortably presumptuous about doing so;

g) tick lots of boxes confirming all sorts of legal requirements - that you have not submitted this manuscript anywhere else, that you have read the copyright terms, that you understand the ethical dimensions;

h) excise all identifying markers from one of the manuscripts in preparation for blind peer review.


And more, for the whole business has taken me a good two full days. In fairness, when I created my account and actually started the submission process, it was quite straightforward - the system was reasonably user-friendly and took me through everything step by step. What was frustrating, though, was the absence of one definitive checklist for the journal - there were author guidelines on the journal page that said one thing (e.g. 'submit author details on a separate page'), then links to guidelines on the publisher's page that said something else ('submit author details on a separate document'). That slowed the process down considerably. However, it is done - and I know what to expect for next time.

Speaking of which, am thinking of putting something together from my qualitative MSc assignments, in particular the Qualitative Data Analysis module, in which I explored interview data from both an inductive and a deductive perspective in order to understand how learners perceive and experience agency. It was interesting, it was. I'll poke around some of the qualitative inquiry journals, I reckon, and let you know.

Photosynthesise well, my friends!