At a recent event, I overheard an aspiring graduate researcher ask a colleague, ‘Is doing a PhD hard?’.

After a little thought, my colleague replied, ‘Yes. It’s really tough and takes more thinking and work than you’d believe, but what’s really hard is if life gets in the way’.

I thought this was a very succinct assessment of what completing a PhD can look like, but also of academic writing more generally.

My writing habits as an early career academic began while I was completing my PhD. I achieved what I had to during the initial twelve months of my PhD journey to be ready for my first milestone, but there was no pattern or regularity to what I was doing.

I was fortunate enough to be lecturing early on in my PhD, which was good for the experience, but not so good for my writing. Teaching meant that some weeks a lot would get done, and some weeks very little would get done if marking or other work duties had to take precedence.

When I reflect on the first year of my PhD, I know I’m quite lucky that period went smoothly. It mostly happened because I was fortunate enough that the good days outweighed the bad.

The turn in my writing habits came in the second year of my PhD.

Post-fieldwork jetlag was responsible for a week or two of waking up at 5am. The logical use of that time was to sit down and write because it felt like bonus time. Usually, I wouldn’t have even been awake, but I quickly realised that was a pattern that worked for me.

The result was that my PhD was largely completed between the hours of 5am-9am, 7 days a week. The added bonus of this was that, because I had a good start to the day and the writing process had begun, I tended to be able to continue that throughout the day and even around meetings, classes, and other work and life commitments.

The crucial part of this success, however, was that my life at the time let me work like that. I had no distractions at home and I lived close to the university. I could go from my front door to my office door in about 10 minutes. Life isn’t as interruption-free nowadays, but my PhD experience taught me that I needed some form of routine if I wanted to get writing done.

The evolution of my 3-4 hours of writing each morning as a PhD researcher to now having to balance research and writing with other aspects of an academic career mean that, first, I try to be realistic about what I can achieve in a day. I have around a 45 minute commute each way now (though it used to be 90+ minutes). If I look at my calendar and know I have to teach, attend an all-day workshop or PD, or have a meeting-heavy day, I accept before the day even begins that no writing is likely to happen. This acceptance works better for me than unrealistically planning to squeeze in some writing that doesn’t happen.

If I think there’s a chance some writing could occur, I revert back to my PhD days a bit and make sure I can at least get some writing done before I leave the house or as soon as I reach my office. Even if it’s just twenty-minutes, that’s what I need to get the process going to make sure I can maximise any time I have available to get some writing done.

A shift I’ve also noticed is that I seem to work better when I’m working on several projects at once. I think doing a PhD is such a big solid chunk of work that you can (or at least I did) get used to having that be your only focus. I had been in the habit of only writing one paper, or only doing revisions on one paper, at a time. Now, I find that I’m much more productive and can better focus on the task at hand when I’m writing or doing revisions on several papers across my available writing time.

What I’ve really learnt over the evolution of my writing habits is that it’s about what works for you at a given time, around your life and other commitments.

In my case, right now, I’m a research and teaching academic so writing has to be a priority, but it’s not my only obligation and I have to work within those parameters. What works for me now also wouldn’t have worked for me three years ago and probably won’t work for me in three years’ time – but I think that’s exciting!

My writing is influenced by my work and life. If an office move, new university, or life change means things are going to look different, I know I’ll be able to find a new way to work, even though it might take some initial effort.

Dr Troy A. Heffernan is a Lecturer in Leadership and Learning in the School of Education at La Trobe University and lectures within the Master of Educational Leadership and Management program. 


His current research includes working with Vice-Chancellors and Deans to explore the emotional work required to carry out senior leadership roles, and exploring the perspectives of university staff members’ experiences of leaders to identify and understand effective higher education leadership practices. Troy tweets from @troyheff.

The post Writing habits of an early career academic (Troy A. Heffernan) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

What is it about a cup of coffee that can lead to a $48,000 research grant and world leading research?

The answer is that if that coffee is had at a university Early Career Researcher (ECR) event then, more likely than not, emerging researchers will be also talking for the first time with other researchers from outside their discipline where they have exchanged ideas and realised the linkages that exist between their seemingly disparate research interests.

The scenario described above actually happened in October 2015 when we – Dr Samantha Grover and Dr Greg Dingle – were chatting between sessions at the La Trobe University ECR Network Conference in the John Scott Meeting House.

We were there to give presentations on our latest research and explore the potential for collaborating with researchers from outside our disciplines. Sam is a soil scientist, and Greg is a social scientist specialising in sport management. In addition, Greg thinks that the opportunity to have a free lunch should never be missed!

Greg had given his presentation in the morning session with the curious topic of “major sport stadia and climate change”. Over the lunch that followed, we had that coffee, and began chatting about our various research interests. As a soil scientist, Sam is naturally an expert with the natural world and how biogeochemical processes work. Sam’s research canvasses the potential of soil carbon, greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions from agriculture and native plant species, and even the impacts of fire on grasslands. This is important work as it expands human understanding of soils and plants, but also because it informs the science that underpins the management regimes in agriculture, and in natural eco-systems.

Greg, as a sport management researcher, is naturally an expert in…sport management! Organisational strategy, organisational culture, public policy for sport, sport events: all key facets of a global industry with importance across national boundaries, languages and a multiplicity of cultures! Greg’s research asks a fundamental question: what does climate change mean for sport? Medicine, engineering, economics and most other disciplines are asking this question, so why not sport?

During our conversation over our respective cups of coffee, the potential linkages between our research interests became apparent. As Sam said many months later, “I could tell straight away that our research interests were so complementary yet so different that this was a rare yet exciting opportunity to bring together our respective research work under the umbrella of climate change”. Sam was right. A lot of sport is played on plant-based playing surfaces. Think grass turf football and cricket fields, hockey fields, tennis courts, and horse-racing tracks. All of these sports facilities require curators who are experts in producing and maintaining high quality grass crops that, at a more fundamental level, are ecosystems. They are complex systems of soils, plants, water inputs, fertilisers, and biogeochemical processes such as microbial decomposition – all interacting to produce the high quality, safe, cost-effective and sport-specific surfaces.

An interesting, yet little understood, feature of the biogeochemical processes that underpin contemporary sports turf management is the potential for plant-based ecosystems to be sources and sinks of GHG emissions. Yes, plants and soil are both sources and sinks of GHG’s. In basic terms, plants and soil can either extract GHG’s from the atmosphere, or release them, depending on a range of variables (temperature, water availability, and fertilisers). In an era of climate change, Sam (as a soil scientist) was able to identify the linkage between sport and GHG emissions.

As the coffee progressed, an important question emerged. All at once, Sam said, “So, what are we going to do about it?” and Greg said, “Would you like to have another coffee?”

Sam and Greg began devising tentative research questions for a potential research project investigating the GHG emissions of grass turf sports fields. The project was cast as a pilot study to be conducted on a small scale, with a possible follow-up study to be conducted later…thing is, we had funding. Sam proposed other soil and plant scientists join the conversation, while a more senior sport management colleague was brought in to offer advice. Getting the right team was critical – Matt and Tony were really supportive. Tony suggested working with David. David suggested bring in Professor Ian.

A series of conversations then followed. It was unquestionably a leap of faith. We were a group of researchers who didn’t know each other that well, researchers from vastly different disciplines and methodological approaches. But the leap has been absolutely worth it.

A successful Sports, Exercise and Rehabilitation Research Focus Area grant for $48,000 followed, and our research was under way.

We have now have data, and results that challenge the conventional wisdom about sport and climate change. Our first paper has been submitted to the Science of the Total Environment journal. A second paper is in preparation based on a case study method. We’re now putting together an ARC Linkage Grant application to extend our research!

It is challenging., though, the research paradigms we share and don’t share – the challenge of multi-disciplinarity? We’re all busy. We’re still figuring out how to take our research forward.

The moral of the story? Our experience speaks to the value of ECR Network and RED events, and their capacity to stimulate multidisciplinary research. You just never know where a cup of coffee will lead you.

So, if you are still wondering about the power of coffee, go try one. Just make sure you do it at an ECR event!

————————————

Greg Dingle is a Lecturer in Sport Management in the Department of Management, Sport and Tourism in the La Trobe Business School, and an associate of the Centre for Sport and Social Impact at La Trobe University. Greg’s expertise is in sport management, climate change, sport and environmental sustainability, and Education for Sustainability (EfS). He tweets from @gdingle1.

Sam Grover, based at RMIT University, is a soil chemist by training. She is particularly interested in integrating soil science with other disciplines to solve real world problems around climate change and sustainability. Her current research focuses on safeguarding the carbon stored in peatlands, with projects in Australia, Indonesia and China.

The post How cups of coffee lead to world leading research (Greg Dingle and Sam Grover) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

Monday 25th September 2017 

Life
as an ECR can be demanding and stressful as you find your feet as an
independent researcher. Being plugged into an active research community
can be vital to sustaining momentum, keeping up-to-date with
information, and building your network of potential collaborators. 


This
one-day conference has been designed by ECRs for ECRs with the aim of
providing opportunities for networking, learning, and building a
community of support for ECRs at La Trobe University.

What’s on for this year’s conference?

Supported
by the Deputy Vice Chancellor Research Professor Keith Nugent, we have
planned an exciting and diverse programme for the 2017 conference: 

• Delegates will have opportunities to put questions to a panel of La
  Trobe’s research executive and senior management teams on issues most
  relevant to ECRs;
• Two invited external keynote speakers will
  lead us through their research career journeys with lots of tips and
  ideas on how to carve out a career in research;
• A futurist panel will lead discussion on what the future looks like for ECRs;
• Lightning round presentations from ECRs will bring delegates up to
  speed on the range of research that is occurring across the University.

Last
year’s conference was attended by over 70 people who gathered to hear
from University senior management on ECR-specific issues and to learn
about how the Research Focus Areas (RFAs) fund ECRs. One of the
highlights of the conference was the sandboxing activity, where
delegates worked in teams to compete for a $1000 prize! Participant
feedback was positive and informative: delegates said it was useful to
hear from research leaders at the university and they enjoyed to
opportunity to present their own work. 

What is an ECR?

ECRs
are typically Level A/B staff within 7 full-time years post-PhD,
excluding career interruptions such as non-research employment,
part-time status and personal leave (e.g. parenting). Mid to late stage
PhDs are welcome to apply, as well as honorary LTU staff.

Are you an early career researcher at La Trobe University? Get involved! 

We
invite you to submit an abstract to deliver a lighting talk (<4
minutes). This is an exciting opportunity to showcase your work to
researchers from across La Trobe’s Colleges and campuses. We welcome
abstracts that are related to your research or, you can submit a more
lateral abstract about an aspect of your community or service
engagement, e.g., how you have formed collaborations, your experience of
writing for non-academic audiences, your thoughts on applying for
grants.

For all abstract submissions, remember you will
be writing for researchers who are possibly not experts in your field so
it is best to avoid all professional jargon and acronyms. Further
details, including an abstract template and abstracts from the 2016
conference, will be available soon on the website. 

Travelling from a regional campus?

Contact the conference committee for information on how we can help fund your travel to the conference.

Interested? Here’s how to register

Conference
registration is free and the event is fully catered. However, spaces
are limited. Registration will be open from early August. Please email
the Research Education and Development (RED) team’s Emma Curtis-Bramwell
(E.Curtis-Bramwell@latrobe.edu.au) to join the ECR mailing list and be
kept informed of all the news! 

Funding is available to
assist with travel to La Trobe’s Melbourne campus. We strongly encourage
ECRs from regional campuses to submit an abstract. If you’re interested
in accessing a travel bursary, please contact ECRcommunity@latrobe.edu.au.

Key information

• When: Monday 25th September 2017 9am-4pm
• Where: Bundoora Campus · Registration: via Eventbrite

Key information for abstract submission

• Abstract submission deadline: 5pm Friday 25th August
• Word limit: 200 words max · Abstract submission: Please send to ECRcommunity@latrobe.edu.au with subject line ‘2017 Abstract’
• Feedback on your abstract: Early September

Questions? Contact the ECR Networking committee: ECRcommunity@latrobe.edu.au

We look forward to welcoming you on 25th September! 

2017 ECR Network Committee members:

• Dr Sarah Hayes (ASSC)
• Dr Marcella Carragher (SHE)
• Dr Hannah Schurholz (Hallmark Program)
• Dr Prue Atkins (SHE)
• Dr Matt Meredith-Williams (ASSC)
• Dr Leah Kivivali (SHE)
• Dr Clarice Tang (SHE)

The post The 3rd LTU Early Career Researcher (ECR) Network Conference CFP appeared first on Research Education and Development.

Emma during her first days at the high Arctic | Photo from Emma Bland

I’ve just started a 3-year postdoc in middle atmospheric physics at the University Centre in Svalbard (UNIS).

Located in Longyearbyen, Norway, way up in the high Arctic at 78° latitude, UNIS is the world’s northernmost higher education institution.

So, how did a PhD graduate from La Trobe wind up living on Svalbard?

First, there are some world-class research facilities here, including an optical observatory for studying the Aurora Borealis, and a brand-new radar that is part of an international collaboration of which La Trobe is also a member.

Second, I visited Svalbard for a conference two years ago and went home feeling rather inspired! It seemed like such a fun place to live, with many opportunities for hiking, skiing and snowmobiling adventures, as well as unique wildlife and spectacular mountain scenery.

You can imagine my delight when I discovered that UNIS was advertising a postdoc position during the final year of my PhD candidature!

With zero experience on the academic job market, I didn’t know what to expect when I submitted my application. The online application required my CV, academic transcripts, publications, and a research plan. At the end of the form, I was asked to tick a box stating that I consented to my personal information being released in accordance with the Norwegian Open Files Act. This seemed akin to checking the “I have read the privacy policy” box on an online form – of course, I haven’t read it, just sign me up already!

So, it was a bit of a surprise when, a few days after the application deadline, I received a document from the hiring committee stating the names, dates of birth, employment history and education of all the applicants.

I learned that six other people had applied for the position. Some applicants, including me, were PhD candidates nearing completion, while others were several years post-PhD. I joked that I now had enough information to eliminate my competition! More seriously, though, I actually felt a great sense of relief. If nothing else, this experience would be an opportunity to obtain some constructive feedback that might help me with future job applications.

Unknown to me at the time, this initial report was merely a trailer for what was to come. About a month later, I received a second report evaluating each candidate’s suitability for the position, based on their research experience, publication history and research plan. The comments were frank, and some candidates were identified as unsuitable for the position. At the end of the report, the candidates were ranked and the top three were offered an interview. I was ranked third.

It turns out that this transparent academic hiring process is the norm in Norway. While my opinion may be coloured by the fact that I was ultimately offered the job, I think this process is fabulous. It was clear from the report what the hiring committee was looking for, and I could easily understand the merits and weaknesses of my own application relative to the other candidates.

My interview was conducted over Skype and lasted about 45 minutes. There were three people on the panel – two academics and an HR representative. We spent roughly half of the interview discussing research, and the other half talking about living in the high Arctic. I was asked about my hobbies and what contribution I could make to the local community. This is very important in a remote settlement – the people I write papers with are also the people I will go hiking with on the weekends!

I was offered the position in October 2015, on the condition that my PhD was passed by July 2016. Looking back, it was helpful to have an incentive to stay motivated in the months before submission, but it certainly added to the stress and uncertainty of the submission and examination processes.

The big move north happened at the end of June 2016.

It’s midsummer, and the town of Longyearbyen is filled with beautiful wildflowers, birds and reindeer, all making the most of the 24-hour daylight and balmy 10°C temperatures! Svalbard is also home to about 3000 polar bears, so it is necessary to carry a rifle and flare gun for protection when leaving the settlements. What a unique part of the world! I’m keen to make the most of it.

——————————

Emma Bland completed her PhD in space physics at La Trobe in 2016, and is now a postdoc at the University Centre in Svalbard. 


You can follow her Arctic adventures on her personal blog.

The post From PhD to high Arctic – my postdoc experience (Emma Bland) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

I saw it as a great opportunity for La Trobe ECRs from different disciplines and campuses to come together to support and inspire each other, share ideas and experiences, and potentially forge new research partnerships. I believe we achieved those outcomes with the inaugural conference in 2015.  

Personally, I have enjoyed getting to know the ECRs on the committee, have learnt valuable skills in conference organisation, and have had an insight into how the university works. It has certainly been a worthwhile experience, and one that I would encourage other ECRs to considering volunteering for if the opportunity arises.

Being involved in the ECR network and conference has proven to be an effective way of expanding my network across the University. It is too easy to immerse yourself in your own research and for your networking opportunities to reflect an ever narrowing focus. Through the network, I have met other ECRs who I would not have met in the ordinary course of my work – I enjoy hearing about their research, finding the commonalities in our work or research approach, or just marvelling at the differences in how we think.  

Building a broad network of connections can only be beneficial in terms of widening our thinking and creating opportunities for collaborative projects and grants.

It was just what I needed to get motivated and re-engaged with work! Spending the day with researchers at a similar stage in their careers and learning about some of the amazing ECR research happening at La Trobe was inspirational.  

The conference and subsequent ECR Network events have provided me with lots of practical advice and helped me engage with my work in new ways. When the opportunity arose to join the committee for the 2016 conference, I really wanted to help out on something that I have benefited from so greatly.

Being part of the network has given me the opportunity to meet great people and be involved with activities that provide a stable platform of discussion and exchange between ECRs at La Trobe.  

To me, this affiliation has been contributing to building my confidence, and helped me plan out a more coherent pathway as an academic.  

Apart from learning more about the support program for ECRs, specifically at La Trobe, I can now actively help to create events that further build, extend and strengthen the interdisciplinary ECR network at this university. The La Trobe ECR Conference in September is a great opportunity for people to come together, share their research interests and network in a positive and supportive environment.

As a new staff member at La Trobe, being involved in the ECR conference committee has enabled me to meet great people and to contribute to the broader ECR community. 

The ECR Network conference committee aims to facilitate discussions about navigating an academic career, and positively sharing ways that early career academics can build careers in the academy.

————————–

Dr Tseen Khoo is a lecturer in research education and development with the RED team at La Trobe University. Melbourne. She has held research-only fellowships at the University of Queensland and Monash University, and was a research grant developer at RMIT University.

Tseen created and manages the Research Whisperer with Jonathan O’Donnell. 

She convenes the Asian Australian Studies Research Network (AASRN), and publishes on critical race studies, diasporic Asian cultures, and racialised academic identities. 

She’s on Twitter at @tseenster.

The post Why would you join an ECR Network? (Compiled by Tseen Khoo) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

Photo by Edgaras Maselskis | unsplash.com

With internal Expression of Interest (EoI) dates fast approaching for various major funding schemes, La Trobe Early Career Researchers (ECRs) may be weighing up their odds for success.

Considering the substantial time and effort expended in honing grant proposals, could this energy be better spent on, I don’t know, research and writing papers…? I know I had these thoughts.

Reflecting on the vacant application form that confronted me a few years ago, I’m pleased with my former self for saying, “Ugh, fine, I’ll do it!”.

This decision to forge on with the paperwork changed my career.

Taking shape around me today is a small, talented group of graduate researchers, shiny new laboratory equipment and even some modest funds locked in the research account.

And how did I get from staring at a blank application form to here?

Sneaking through in my final year of eligibility, I was fortunate enough to score a Discovery Early Career Research Award (DECRA)** from the Australian Research Council in 2014.

Along with institutional support from the La Trobe Institute of Molecular Science (LIMS), the DECRA grant has provided an unparalleled opportunity to pursue my independent research and a foundation on which to build my profile as a group leader.

However, my claim for a DECRA was anything but assured after clicking the submit button – it was closer to a remote chance, really. It’s not that I doubted my abilities to generate high quality research, but more that DECRAs have a success rate of less than 15% and the scheme attracts applicants from almost every research field imaginable. One can only think of one’s chances as slim, right?

For me, as an astrochemist (think a chemist… in space!), not falling within a research priority was at the forefront of my fears.

I remember my anxiety when faced with the selection of FOR (Field of Research) and SEO (Socio-economic Objective) codes. These critical numbers suggest to the funding body which expert assessors are best suited to tear your application to shreds…er, assess your project, and how crucial to Australia (or not…) your research is deemed to be.

My choices ended up being the most general FOR codes and the “miscellaneous research” SEO box. That can’t be good, right?

For those, like me, who occupy the more exotic niches of academic pursuits, you may be surprised to hear that I ended feeling okay about it.

By embracing my position as an outsider of sorts, I quickly confronted the truth that my ‘square pegs’ work did not fit a (supposed) pressing national need for ’round hole’ research. Only then did I feel liberated enough to let my ideas flow through uninhibited onto the page.

Even if I was still apprehensive about the shadowy assessor who would receive my proposal in their Inbox, at least I stood secure in the knowledge that my passion for strange space chemistry was shining through in the text. I guess the approach worked!

Well…it worked the second time around, anyway!

My first attempt at a DECRA the previous year was a complete mess in comparison. Stressed out with trying to plan my next move while finishing up an overseas postdoc, I was fixated on the idea that my only hope for a stable career back home meant plugging directly into one of the preferred SEO fields.

As this misguided notion took hold, the clear path I had envisaged as an extension of my knowledge, prior experience, and career aspirations began to distort. What should have been a well-constructed, logical statement of ideas and plans turned out to be 10 pages of drivel.

My project must have read like a strange deviation from my previous successes, and it was all due to me trying to find a hook into the areas I felt had the only chances of getting funding.

I didn’t take it to the extent where I proposed something like “cyanide chemistry on Saturn’s moons has important implications for Australia’s food security and fighting terrorism”, but I feel that I lost the essence of my research, what made it exciting, different and important. The proposal was too broad, with lots of tenuous connections.

This is all easy to say in hindsight and, if I had to review my first application now, the somewhat contrived research goals would see red crosses flourish. Rather than general grant-writing ineptitude, I’d like to think that it was the pressure to find job security that caused me to initially (1) lose focus on my successes as a postdoc, and (2) fail to articulate how these successes translated directly to the career I wish to shape.

So, particularly for those of you who might feel like you’re a bit of a black sheep as far as your research interests go (be it in science or any other academic endeavour), I hope these experiences lend you some support to push forward with those research grant applications despite the daunting percentages.

Embrace doing something different and put your aspirations out there! Don’t just tell the story you think the powers-that-be want to hear. It may see you elbow your way towards grant success. Here’s hoping it does!

———————————–

Dr Courtney Ennis is a Research Fellow at the La Trobe Institute of Molecular Sciences (LIMS).  

Courtney is interested in astrochemistry, where he studies the chemical reactions that generate organic building-blocks in space environments. Such locations include the atmosphere of Saturn’s largest moon Titan, where chemical reactions produce ‘Complex Organic Molecules (COMs);’ species of biological importance. In order to understand the make-up of the COMs, their spectral signatures must be compiled. Here we use a specialised cell to mimic the cold conditions of Titan to perform experiments with the intense infrared beam at the Australian Synchrotron. With clues to the chemical composition of the COM material, we search for biological building-blocks such as amino acids and DNA nucleobases, species that may help untangle the chemical origins for life on Earth.

The post Competitive Early Career Researcher grants – what did and didn’t work for me (Courtney Ennis) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

In this week’s RED Alert, we interview Dan Bendrups, who recently started with the RED team at Bendigo Campus. Dan talks candidly about his research background and offers some great advice to Early Career Researchers.

1. How did you end up researching in the field you’re in?

I’d love to say that it was all part of a well-planned career strategy, but to be honest, my transition into a research career was part serendipity and part pragmatism. Like many current HDRs, I entered research from an industry or ‘practice’ background. My field of practice was music performance. When the opportunity arose to do a PhD with a scholarship (something quite attractive to a struggling musician), I took it, but without much thought for where it would lead. My doctorate considered the role of music in cultural sustainability on remote Easter Island (Rapanui). This led to further engagement with music and culture in the Pacific region, especially in Polynesia and Pacific-rim Latin American countries, where I already had some language and cultural knowledge. My emerging profile in this area led to my first real academic appointment in New Zealand, where Pacific-focused research is strategically significant to the nation’s cultural and research agendas. I maintain a specific interest in Rapanui as a primary research field, however, I have also been able to extend this to include topics in which Rapanui (and, for that matter, music) is perhaps more peripheral. At present, this is reflected in my work concerning trans-Pacific cultural phenomena, especially those that connect Oceania with Latin America.

2. Do you ever have topic envy? If so, what research topic do you fantasise about?

Actually, I’ve more often been the subject of others’ topic envy, especially those who think that doing music-based field research on a subtropical Pacific island sounds like a holiday. It’s not. My work depends on important relationships, built up over time, with an indigenous community facing considerable social, economic, political and cultural challenges. I try to ensure that my research goals are responsive to community concerns, and I advocate a decolonisation perspective. All of this makes for quite intricate work with strong personal and emotional demands on the researcher. Sometimes I fantasise about being able to just go to the Pacific on holiday, not for research.

3. What’s the best research moment you’ve had?

Hard to narrow it down to just one, but perhaps this: in 2012 I accompanied the Rapanui delegation to the quadrennial Festival of Pacific Arts. The delegation included the children and grandchildren of culture bearers who had informed my doctoral research a decade prior. It was great to see these young people engaging with the cultural practices of their ancestors, and I felt privileged to have played a small part in helping to sustain their knowledge.

4. If you were a graduate researcher again, what would you do differently?

I would be much more protective of my time. I took many of the freedoms of the PhD journey for granted, and perhaps indulged a bit too much in side projects that were not strictly necessary. Now, after 12 years in academia, I’ve realised that I’m unlikely to have the luxury of being able to focus on a single research project like a PhD again.

5. Do you have any advice to offer on scholarly collaboration and/or networking?

Take advantage of the formal and informal opportunities offered through your institution. Be proactive about finding a place in your field, don’t just sit back and wait to be noticed. At the same time, try to avoid overstating the importance/significance /etc. of your work, as chances are that the academic community has seen something similar before. Really unprecedented work tends to stand on its own merits, but still needs to be communicated well, so prepare your research presentations, and pay attention to detail. Try to convey a sense of the future significance of your work, a sense of where it might all be heading.

——————————————–

Dan Bendrups is an Australian musician and ethnomusicologist. 


He is best known for his work on music and cultural heritage on Easter Island, reflected in multiple publications, recordings and collaborations with museums and other cultural institutions on Rapa Nui and in mainland Chile. 


His research has been funded by FONDART (Chile), UNESCO, universities and other government agencies in Australia and New Zealand. He has produced over 50 publications concerning music and heritage in Australia, Latin America and the Pacific, as well as contributions to theory and method in practice-based research.

The post Interview with Dan Bendrups (Research Education and Development (RED)) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

Earlier this year, Melbourne novelist Steven Carroll spoke at a La Trobe University seminar on how to creatively write about the past.

He suggested writers are always present in their writing and that the best writing involves passion.

Perhaps the same is true of interviewing?

I have spent the first few months of my research carefully not doing this.

I have struggled to keep myself out of interviews, to keep an emotional distance and, most importantly, to not talk about my children. This is relevant as I am researching parenting. 

A recent emotionally difficult experience has prompted me to question this approach.

This post is an attempt to understand where I fit as an interviewer and as a researcher within my research project.
My oral history project examines memories of parenting in suburban Melbourne. It is based on life review interviews with women between the ages of sixty to eighty-five, focussing on their stories of parenting. There have been significant social changes since the end of the Second World War. I am hoping that these women’s memories of parenting will act as a lens to help understand how these changes have affected some women’s lives.

I have interviewed twelve women. Interviewing is tiring for the interviewee and interviewer– both physically and emotionally.

As a novice oral historian, I am learning to manage this. I allow plenty of time to get to interviews, for the interviews themselves, plan for breaks and allocate time immediately after the interview to write up my notes – before returning to the chaos of my own family life.

However, like parenting, interviews sometimes resist planning.

My most recent interview was in an area of Melbourne I have never visited. After the GPS instructed me to drive the wrong way down a one way street, I resorted to my handwritten map and unreliable sense of direction.  As a result, I arrived late and more nervous than usual. There is always a moment before knocking on a stranger’s door when you question whether you are in the right place and who will open the door. I am becoming familiar with this moment and I try to consciously catch my breath and pause. Running late, this time I forgot.

The subsequent interview ran reasonably smoothly but was somewhat flat. I wondered whether my own rushed emotional state had some bearing on this but decided some interviews simply work better than others. I began packing up my recording equipment and made polite conversation. My thoughts were already focussed on my own children, waiting for me at home. Part of me felt frustrated that I had given up a day of the school holidays for what had turned out to be a fairly humdrum interview.

Then my interviewee asked me “have you had anyone cry on you?”

I gave a non-committal reply about personal topics like parenting evoking complex emotions.

She then began a tragic story involving her daughter – a story tied up with a sense of mother’s guilt for not being there to protect her daughter. This five-minute story explained the silences in her earlier interview, and completely changed my understanding of her three hour interview.

However, this story was not recorded. My interviewee clearly wanted it to be this way but, I also have to assume, she wanted to tell me this story. Why? Did she want to fill in the spaces in her “official” story? Did my questions provoke these memories? My dilemma now is what to do with this “off the record” information.

Clearly, this part of the story cannot be told but I cannot “un-know” it. It necessarily colours the way I understand this woman’s life and influences the way I think about the larger historical picture I am developing of parenting. It has also changed how I feel about my own mothering.

After this conversation I drove to a café to write up my notes. A family came and sat at a table near me. The little girl looked to be around the same age as my daughter – about ten. Severely disabled, she could slightly move her head. Her mother ordered her a babycino and proceeded to struggle to spoon feed her daughter the frothy milk. The whole process of drinking an expresso cup of froth took about twenty minutes. That girl’s mother was there for her.  I found myself overcome with tears. So much so, I had to leave the café.

I am not sure what provoked my tears. “Being there” seems to be intimately connected with the idea of the “good mother”. Perhaps I was reminded of my own feelings of guilt for not always being there for my children, that my study necessarily means I am often absent from my children.

Oral historians capture moments of other people’s lives. We gather traces of stories like blotting paper. However, sometimes we absorb our interviewee’s emotions and the mark remains part our own story.

So, yes, I have had people cry on me. And I have cried myself.

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Miranda Francis is a history PhD candidate at La Trobe University’s School of Humanities and Social Sciences. 


She is a recipient of a scholarship funded by the Transition to Contemporary Parenthood research program at La Trobe University’s Judith Lumley Centre.


Her research is an oral history of parenting in suburban Melbourne over the second part of the twentieth century. 


It involves life history style interviews with women over sixty focusing on their memories of parenting.

The post “Have you had anyone cry on you?” Difficult lives and difficult stories (Miranda Francis) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

The initiation of the La Trobe Institute for Molecular Science (LIMS) Fellows society began like any other story of beginnings, with a range of random elements being brought together by engaging forces.

The LIMS Fellows grew from early informal brainstorming meetings to a full-fledged society with a formal constitution and over 50 members in less than a year.

The idea of a society was raised when a large group of LIMS-affiliated postdocs sat together and agreed that a group facilitating more inter-departmental and Institute communication and support was needed.

Strong research institutes are lifted by a central body of talented – often junior – benchside scientists, and an internal community that could initiate and foster this development was ideal.

A group of postdocs volunteered their own skills and experiences and a committee was formed.

LIMS Fellows at their first speed-networking event in June 2015 Photo courtesy of Erika Duan

The founding committee was made up of:

• general committee members (Lilian Hor, Rommel Mathias, Ivan Poon, Erika Duan, Lesley Cheng and Daniel Langley)
• event committee members (Thomas Shafee, Rohan Lowe, Pauline Huang and Michael Thomas)
• a central IT/ design officer (Fung Lay)
• a treasurer (David Greening)
• a fundraising officer (Marta Enciso)
• an Olivia Newton John Cancer Research Institute (ONJCRI)/external liaison officer (Nikola Baschuk) and 
• a secretary (Jenny Chow).

Many postdocs brought their own experiences from organising other societies and previously representing PhD candidates and Early Career Researchers (ECRs).

The first LIMS Fellows networking event was successfully held in June 2015, bringing together over 30 members (including fellow postdocs from ONJCRI).

A peer-to-peer science and Wikipedia workshop was presented by Thomas Shafee, and monthly morning teas are now held to provide a space for all postdocs to meet.

The first of our career development workshops is scheduled for Wednesday 28 October, organised by Jenny Chow and Ivan Poon. Focusing on transitioning to industry, representatives from Thermo Fisher, GSK, and ONJCRI will present their experiences and insights on the differences between academia and industry and how best to prepare oneself for a possible sector transition.

LIMS Fellows society aims

The LIMS Fellows society is founded on three key, interlinked aims: support, inclusion and growth.

As academia becomes an increasingly competitive place and ECR positions more ephemeral, connecting postdocs to foster collaborations, exchanges of ideas and career development awareness becomes crucial to the health, productivity and morale of any academic organisation.

A collective identity also allows us to connect formally with other postdoctoral and ECR societies at Monash University, University of Melbourne, Walter and Eliza Hall Institute (WEHI) and Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre, and establish ourselves as a fellow institute with many engaged and talented scientists.

The LIMS Fellows society aims to foster support, communication, and career development for all final-stage PhD students and postdocs affiliated with LIMS and our partner institutions (including ONJCRI).

It represents postdoc interests at Institute, College, School, and Departmental levels at La Trobe University, provides information and support so that postdocs can make the most of their time at LIMS, provides communication and networking opportunities and creates a social and intellectual network for postdocs throughout LIMS and the wider University community.

If you’re thinking of starting a society

The first thing to do is research whether any societies already exist that can represent you and your group’s needs. Having a larger society can maintain a critical mass of engaged members, which is vital for the longevity of any productive society. Larger societies may also enable access to resources that smaller societies may struggle with.

A larger collective voice can also help promote awareness of topical issues within a larger community and – just like bacterial flora! – diversity can be beneficial for innovation and evolution.

Ongoing funding and budgeting are also critical to sustaining a society, and creative options for industry sponsorship may help boost monetary resources to allow for more ambitious events. These could well increase your society’s reach.

Assign individual roles that suit the experience and strengths of your team. For instance, David Greening was the past treasurer for Walter and Eliza Hall Medical Research Institute (Melbourne) and Ludwig Institute for Cancer Research (Melbourne), and we are especially indebted to our IT/designs officer and former La Trobe University Biochemistry Society president Dr Fung Lay for the creation of our society logo, society facebook page, constitution, mailing list and email address (just to name a few things!).

Do not underestimate the importance of the soft skills required for the active maintenance of a society. They are crucial for management and operational tasks like writing group emails, creating meeting calendar invites and documenting meeting minutes.

Make use of existing technology platforms to promote or organise events (like Eventbrite, Doodle polls, Facebook and Google groups). The creation of a professional and unique image will help spread awareness of your individual organisation and build its profile.

At the end of the day, a society is only as good as the enthusiasm (and presence) of its participating members.

Navigating the line between events promoter versus spam-like robot may be a daunting task, but creating a committee that can listen to and engage all members is the key!

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Erika Duan is a junior postdoc from the Chen T cell laboratory (Department of Biochemistry and Genetics, LIMS). Her major research interest lies in lung innate immunity, which is central to the development of both acute and chronic inflammatory lung diseases. 


She is a general committee member for the LIMS Fellows society and the Day of Immunology program, an annual public awareness program raising awareness about the roles of the immune system in human health.

The post LIMS Fellows – Building the next generation of science leaders (Erika Duan) appeared first on Research Education and Development.

When I started my PhD in 2013, my son had just turned four. It wasn’t easy for either of us to leave our home and move to a new country.

For me, it was like starting from scratch. I was so busy looking for the things that my son used to love back home. For him, it was like moving from one
planet to another. It was a totally new environment in terms of language, culture, and friends, one which I found difficult.

At that time, my son had just started speaking in my language, which is Bangla. Now, added to that, he had to learn how to communicate in English, which he
had never heard from his mum or dad back home. While he was struggling with his new-found life at the La Trobe Childcare Centre, I was grappling with
shaping my research questions. The emotional journey for both of us was huge. It almost became too much when, after three months, my husband left Melbourne
to start his postdoctoral fellowship in North America.

At that point, life seemed not as easy as I thought it would be! Childcare had changed from our home
experience of my son having fun to him having to listen to his care-givers in a different language and trying to adapt to an unfamiliar culture. At the end
of almost every day, my son complained about his experiences with his new care-givers. On our way back from childcare, both of us used to cry, without
knowing the way out or how to feel better about our new life here!

When I was four months into my PhD, I was asking my supervisor lots of questions about the area I was about to explore. I was very restless about not being
able to identify the research topic that felt right for my thesis. My supervisor stopped me and smiled. He said, ‘Listen, it’s your PhD; treat it as your
child. You will feel comfortable enough to handle it soon.’

Only then did I realise that I was expecting my second baby; a baby not in my tummy but in my mind!

Those words from my supervisor were magic words for me. I realised it was true that both of my babies were young, and they were struggling to settle down
in a new environment. Being under pressure from two babies, I stopped for a while and thought I should seek some professional support for my mind. I
visited the La Trobe Counselling Service and spoke with one of the counsellors there. The counsellor advised that I give both my kids some time, and to
have patience; everything will soon be under control.

Life became a little easier when I discovered that I was not the only one on this journey. I found that a lot of my colleagues were doing their PhDs
without having their partners with them in Australia, and they felt the same anxieties. We shared our experiences and learned from each other. We spent
some weekends together so that our kids could find a community within our circle. We explored places where both mums and their kids could have time
together. It worked, and now my son has best friends whose parents are mostly my colleagues at La Trobe. My thesis also began to take form as I joined in
with various training sessions from the Library, Graduate Research School’s RED team, Departmental seminars, and even a Business School seminar on How to finish a PhD on time.

As I write this, two and a half years into my PhD journey, I feel that both of my babies are doing well, and that they are behaving in the way that I was
hoping and expecting. My son is in prep this year. Every day, I am learning something new from him, especially about Australian culture. The other day, I
was learning the Australian national anthem from him and found it really touching to listen to and sing.

My other baby, my thesis, is growing towards its delivery phase, both inside my mind and in my documents. I edit it, feed it with new references, reshape
it, analyse it, or sometimes edit it back to make it healthier. Now, I’m beginning to realise what I’ve achieved by managing these two babies together: it
has been an amazing experience.

I don’t juggle with them anymore. Rather, I play with them every day!

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Shawgat Sharmeen Kutubi
worked as a senior lecturer in Finance at Independent University, Bangladesh, before moving to Australia to undertake a PhD in 2013. Shawgat has also spent
4 years in London undertaking a Master’s at the University of London (SOAS).



She is currently a third-year graduate researcher in the Department of Accounting, researching banking governance. She also works as an Assistant Health and Well-being Coordinator (Student Leader) at La Trobe’s Accommodation Services.


Shawgat enjoys sightseeing around Melbourne. She practices meditation to calm her mind and loves to visit the La Trobe Sports Centre.

The post My PhD experience: Juggling, or playing, with two babies? (Shawgat Sharmeen Kutubi) appeared first on Research Education and Development.