Degrees and doctorates

It’s been a while since my last post and I’ve been fairly quiet on Twitter lately, so a project update is definitely needed. And there’s no better time than now as we celebrate a significant milestone – last week I submitted the first draft of the first full chapter of my thesis for review by Gerry and Danny.

At 22,500 words, it’s big (the other chapters will probably be in the region of 10,000 words), and it’s been a long time coming, but it does cover the 15 months of work that has gone into analysing Burns’s letters for evidence of mood disorder. Quite simply, the rest of the project can’t happen without it, so the time taken to get it right is time well-invested.

But that’s not the only reason I’ve been quiet lately and not the only milestone I’m celebrating. Almost five years ago, and with much apprehension, I took up taekwondo; this weekend, I finally achieved my 1st degree black belt.

Trust me, no-one is more surprised at this than I am! I never expected to stick it out so long or to make it so far, so it really is a huge achievement for me.

As I’ve been preparing for grading, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the connections between my taekwondo training and my research work. They have a lot in common: they have both been new starts for me; I’ve come to them both later in life than many others; the end goal of both (or what you think it is the end goal) takes a long time to reach and you don’t realise how much work it takes until after you’ve done it.

What has resonated with me most though are the tenets of taekwondo – courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control and indomitable spirit. The more I thought about them over the past few months, the more I realised that just as they worked in getting a creaky old thing like me through to black belt, so too do they help in getting me closer to a doctorate.

For those who don’t know, taekwondo is a Korean martial art created in the 1950s by General Choi Hong Hi. Literally translated, it means the ‘art of the hand and the foot’. But the –do of taekwondo – the art – isn’t just about learning how to perform the moves and use them correctly. It’s also about a way of thinking. Within taekwondo, this is defined by the student oath, the first line of which is a promise to observe the tenets.

So, to celebrate my first chapter and my first degree, I thought I’d share a little of my thinking – what do the tenets mean in my taekwondo and how they connect to my research life.

Courtesy

This is about treating those of a higher grade with respect – bowing to instructors at the start and end of classes, thanking them for teaching points, addressing them as ‘Sir’ or ‘Miss’, turning up to class on time.

And the same is true of research – you treat those with more knowledge and experience courteously. You never know when you might need their help or find yourself collaborating with them or have them sitting on your viva panel. However, the idea of courtesy should extend to everyone; regardless of their position or status, others can bring valuable skills and knowledge. Things can be achieved much more easily if people don’t think of you as rude or abusive or difficult to work with. So it’s courtesy that always makes me double-check that email before I send it – is the tone appropriate? Is my request reasonable? Am I asking someone to take time out to find me an answer when I could do it myself?

Besides, what goes around, comes around – you want to be treated courteously too.

(Although I might draw the line at bowing when I go for supervision meetings!)

Integrity

This is about knowing right from wrong, acting appropriately, and being able to admit guilt when you’ve been wrong. In class, it might be apologising when you’ve been too rough during sparring, being honest when critiquing a fellow student’s performance, admitting you’ve not learned your theory or practised your patterns at home.

In research, integrity is a fundamental requirement. Peers expect that your work and your results are reported and represented honestly and accurately. It’s the assumption of integrity that gives research-generated knowledge its value. It might be about calling out the failure of others’ integrity (hopefully not something I’ll ever have to do!) It can be a difficult path to tread – sometimes it involves admitting a hypothesis is flawed, that a methodology doesn’t work, that results don’t show what you wanted. But it’s a much better personal reflection to admit these things that to try to fudge it to get the data you want…you’ll always be found out in the end.

Perseverance

Perseverance is all about patience and sticking with things. It’s the grind, the hard work for the small gains. For me, this is always true when I’m learning a new pattern in class. It takes a while for me just to get the basic sequence of movements memorised. Then I have to start refining the small details. I’ll never be perfect but I can always be better if I keep working at it, one step at a time. For me, this is the most important of the tenets – it’s the ‘one step at a time’ approach that has got me through to black belt.

The same has been absolutely true of producing this first thesis chapter I’ve submitted. Fifteen months is a long time to spend on one aspect of a doctoral project, especially when you’re looking to complete in less than 4 years. And there were times where this was VERY difficult – three rounds of analysis, looking back over the same letters repeatedly, refining the results. Again, it was all about ‘one step at a time’, breaking it into manageable chunks, whether it was getting a particular group of letters done or a particular section of the chapter written. Perseverance got me there in the end. And perseverance will get me through to completion.

Self-Control

Within taekwondo, each belt colour also has a symbolic meaning. The red belt, which comes before black, symbolises danger. It warns the opponent to stay away but also cautions the student to exercise self-control. Learning taekwondo isn’t just about learning how to perform the techniques but also when to perform them. Losing control turns you into a scrapper, a street fighter, rather than a trained martial artist. (Although if anyone has seen me spar, this distinction is quite dubious…sparring is probably my least favourite bit of training.)

In research life, it’s self-control that underpins being self-directed, developing the discipline to set your own targets and work towards them under your own steam. It’s also self-control that’s got me through my first attempt at submitting an article to a peer-reviewed journal – tightening the writing up to squeeze what could have been 8000 words into a 5000-word limit; not taking the reviewer comments (too) personally, putting in the extra hours to revise the article and respond to those comments. And it’s definitely self-control that is stopping me chewing my fingernails down to the quick as we wait for a final decision. (Fingers crossed we’ll hear back soon and it’ll be good news!)

Indomitable Spirit

Indomitable spirit is about not giving up, about getting back on the bike when you fall off, even if lying on the ground seems much more attractive. Never has this been truer that with my grading at the weekend. The final thing I had to do was break a board with a side kick. I’d done it plenty of times before in class, but a combination of nerves and exhaustions (we’d already spent 12 hours training across the weekend before the grading) meant I failed to break three times. A step to the side, a few deep breaths, and a stern talking to myself about how disappointed I would feel if I didn’t do this led to success on the fourth attempt.

Time and patience and determination had got me through the grading and secured me my black belt. It’s been difficult journey but I’ve shown myself that I can do it.

In comparison, finishing the research and turning out a 100,000-word thesis seems like a walk in the park.