Finding my voice

Author: Martia Bevan, University of Brighton

Bio:

Martia has just completed the first year of a ESRC SCDTP-funded PhD at University of Brighton in the School of Humanities and Social Sciences. Her research focuses on the lived experience of visually impaired women’s surviving into thriving following domestic abuse. The study aims to use storied accounts of survivors to contribute to service provision and policy change. Having both personal and professional understandings of the research topic, Martia is informed through counselling work, creative writing and lived experience.


 

The first academic year has been a journey of unknown territory as I have grappled with the pride at the opportunity to study at this level, alongside a sense of doubt that I have sometimes felt. Added to this is determination to be “good enough” as a researcher and acquire skills that will enhance my study. It has assisted me in the realisation that on reflection, other things I have achieved have encouraged me to transform the question of ‘Can I?’ into a confident ‘I can.’

When reflecting on my research, I consider the literature that has felt overwhelming at times, demonstrating how information can feel ‘lost’ when trying to meet perceived expectations especially when those expectations are unclear. This emphasises that academic study is about more than simply learning knowledge. It relies on understanding the ‘mechanics’ involved in uncovering or discovering truth – my truth. It has also brought a sense of acceptance that I do not yet fully know what I do not know and that this, along with acknowledgement of learning style and the challenges of sight loss, is ok.

I have hesitated to make changes, but I acknowledge the PhD, much like human experience, is not static, nor can it be if I am to allow the process to evolve and develop as it needs to. This in itself identifies a move towards an increased ability to give myself permission to return to my original intention when things become a bit cloudy. It grounds me as I recall the knowledge and skills I have developed throughout my life. It is a good reminder that transferable skills and experience have a part to play in research and are contributing to my own PhD journey, more than I realised. I am in a different phase now, using resources to lay the foundation for my own study and expand my understanding of a task which is considerable.

When I reflect on my experience so far, it has at times touched on the inevitable “imposter syndrome”. I have questioned more than once whether I should be here at all. Yet, the process is serving to find connection and identify my ‘place’ within the research I have ventured on. I feel more settled, being able to trace a fairly concrete path, attaining the required “milestones” with a willingness to treat every day as if it is a “school day”.

Progressive familiarity with what is going on has given me some confidence that I am doing the right thing, or I am on the right track at least. It has helped to counteract feelings of vulnerability that may get in the way of decisions. This portrays a shift in “knowing”, where I was, where I am now, and where I am going, even if this is still sometimes veiled in shades of darkness. It addresses a simple but often omitted realisation that not knowing how to do something does not matter. An acceptance of having elements of ourselves we do not acknowledge or ‘areas for development’ that we struggle to notice or admit to may help with sensitivity to the challenges faced by others. It is a process that questions our own values, assumptions and enables increased awareness of self as we question not simply what we do but why and how we do it.

In a sense this questioning that forms the basis for my research has increased my ability to start thinking “outside the academic box” and be confident to use my creativity. I was reminded about this recently when addressing a tendency to sometimes allocate the “creative” and “academic” to separate camps. The various forms of writing I have done have required a different take on the written word and how it reaches the target audience. It has seemed I sometimes consider the 2 forms of writing disconnected, rarely to meet or become tangled as I perhaps thought they might. Yet, I acknowledge that creative writing and creativity lends itself to the ‘academic voice’ as much as a traditional piece of academic writing. It serves to contribute to and often enhance a wider lens through which to view the topic in question.

I suggest that we write because we have something to say and want to share it, whether for an assignment, a report, a poem or a book. We are storytellers by nature, sharing what we know and learn. Whatever form that takes—academic, creative, or otherwise—is valid and valuable.

I am curious about the “why”, “what” and “how”. This makes me think about not only writing but my research potential. It offers possibility to broaden and expand my ideas whatever they look like. Furthermore, it also allows me to be my authentic self in my writing and embrace the creative strands that have travelled with me and assisted in the process that has got me to the point of being a PhD research student.

I have not yet come up with a formula for how to measure or allocate space, time or indeed words to my academic or creative voice but I don’t think it matters. It is perhaps more about finding out what is there, within me as I interact with others, absorbing, gathering and learning – always learning as I go. The written word is important to me. It is an extension of what I may want to say at times I find it easier to write than to use my voice.

My research is progressing. I notice my interest in the study and my passion for the topic grows steady and strong, as I move with enthusiasm into the second year. These ‘notes to self’ may not hold all the answers, but they remind me that I am building a strong foundation from which to step confidently into the next chapter of my PhD journey

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