August 28, 2006
Helloooooooo
(Snowdonia, August 2005)
Writing a dissertation is an isolating experience. I spent hours contacting and then interviewing farmers and food suppliers, one on one. I’ve quietly read and re-read articles, facts and figures, studies and reports on my study area, including census and geohistorical information about Cornwall, academic debates about relocalisation of food, food miles as a measure of sustainability, rural economic development, farm strategies, quality food networks, and theories of learning and methodology. And then there are all the government strategies, statements, studies and pronouncements. Very few of these have I discussed with anyone at any length. And now, I have pages and pages of text, some of it chunked together from my previous essays, quotes from my interviews, and my own thoughts. Now I’m working on how all this fits together. What is the story I’m telling? Which elements are necessary, and in what order, to take a reader through the discovery process? How much background is required for clarity and to bring out the significance of various findings? What are the relevant and useful findings to policy? What constitutes valuable analysis as opposed to mere description of the case study details?
If you know me at all, you probably haven’t forgotten that I like to talk. When I’m working on a play or dealing with a breakup or trying to make decisions about my future, I talk. And talk and talk and talk. I used to say that I was incapable of thinking without actually saying things to someone out loud. I’ve since given myself credit for having evolved to silent thought, but I still find epiphanies by talking about things. And this is in addition to the obvious learning by discussing that most people do, where the actual input from another party is enlightening. Sometimes, just having to explain things makes them suddenly clear to me.
And I can’t really do that with my dissertation. At this point, I am the only person I know who is familiar with the region, sector, issues and details of my study. So, day after day, I wallow around in the facts, figures and ideas in my head and try to make them stand up straight and get into formation. Herding cats, let me tell you. And what’s most frustrating of all is that it seems simple in my head. I know the stuff. I know what was interesting and useful in what I’ve learned. I know the background, am familiar with the trends and the representativeness of my interview subjects, know the limitations of my research and why it is useful to policymaking. But if I sit down it’s just a big pile of facts and bits of thought and won’t get its act together.
Glad to see you're back. Why not just take all those ideas in your head out for a walk and tell them to the hills. Who knows, they might just talk back at ya. And even if they don't, at least you'll be looking at some lovely land.
Thought of you the other day while listening to the radio. No, not so lucky as to have heard the MountainGoats. It was a TalkOfTheNation program on local food. And it was good show. Made me hopeful that there's actually change in the air.
And, of course it cemented your reputation as cool-huntress extraordinaire. Always out ahead of the curve!
That's not a bad idea, that talking to the hills thing. If only they were a little closer! For now, I'm just plugging away at it, rattling away to myself silently at all hours of day and night. One way or another it will all be over in a couple of weeks!
I hope they give cool huntresses jobs.
Posted by: appalachia at August 28, 2006 11:07 PMI think it's time to search for the hero inside yourself... chin up, Trish! keep at it!
Posted by: Phig at August 29, 2006 01:10 PM