SGSSS Team – SGSSS Social

Women’s Safety from Male Violence – A Societal Issue With Resonance Across Our Universities

As with many individuals and organisations, SGSSS wished to show our solidarity around the issue of women’s safety from gendered violence and, in particular, to highlight the specific connections to the places where we work and study. To this end, we have commissioned a blog from Professor Michele Burman to reflect on the most pressing priorities for our institutions. With a background in sociology, psychology, criminology and law, Michele Burman is a feminist criminologist, based at the University of Glasgow, with long-standing research interests in women and crime, and responses to gender-based violence.

Mhairi Mackenzie
Deputy Director SGSSS

Recent tragic events have forcefully reminded us once again of the threats posed to women’s safety from male violence, sexual harassment and street harassment. The death of Sarah Everard, abducted as she was walking home, has struck an angry chord with women of all ages and backgrounds, who have been recounting their own stories of harassment, victimisation and violence alongside their strategies of safe-keeping. What these stories tell us is that women’s fear is rational; it is based on our lived experiences and those of people close to us, and reflects our location in a gendered world.

For these reasons, it is vital to ensure that the safety of women and girls is kept high on the agenda in all of our social institutions. Not through knee jerk political posturing, or advising us to self-regulate our behaviour to stay safe. But through close attention to the voices of women and girls and the education of men and boys.

University can be a positive, empowering and enriching experience; a catalyst for intellectual growth and human development, and a place where lifetime friendships are made. But for students who experience gender-based violence, it can be devastating, with a raft of negative emotional and educational outcomes and disruptions. In a university setting, these consequences are compounded by the unique conditions of campus life. Survivors may face challenges related to living in close proximity to their abusers, may attend the same classes or belong to the same student organisations. Anonymity may prove impossible and academic performance reduced. Beyond the individual impacts, gender-based violence has damaging effects on the University and its wider campus community.

Universities are under obligation to ensure the safety of their students on campus, to investigate all allegations, and to prevent possible future incidents. Inadequate prevention and responses perpetuate the problem, putting other students at risk. Safety in and around campus must be a priority for universities, which should be places of safety, support and inspiration. A comprehensive approach is needed to effectively address gender-based violence, which includes developing strategies and policies that address the attitudes, norms, behaviours, and practices that condone it. Challenging gender-based violence in universities takes commitment and institutional courage, strong leadership and coalition-building between academics, professional services and, crucially, students. These partnerships are key for facilitating and supporting transformation in the complex and risk averse environments of higher education (Burman et al 2020).

There are growing efforts within Scottish universities, many of whom are working to challenge gender-based violence through policies and programmes on and around university campuses, and the introduction of specific initiatives to understand and address the problem within the university context. But as part of this, it is important to address the full spectrum of gender-based violence, including rape, domestic abuse, stalking, and anti-LGBTQI harassment within this ambit. All of these are features of students’ lives, damaging their opportunities to benefit fully from the transformative effects of higher education. Work is also needed that focuses on staff misconduct to students and to other staff, and the institutional responses to it. Moreover, an intersectional approach to addressing gender-based violence on campuses is needed, in order to understand how sex, race, religion, disability and sexual orientation, among other characteristics, intersect to exacerbate risk of such violence, and how such violence manifests and is experienced by different groups in our diverse campus communities.

References

Burman, M, Dawson, K. McDougall, L., Morton, K. and Nokhbatolfoghahai, F. (2020) ‘Building authentic partnerships for responding to gender‐based violence in universities’ in R. Lewis and S. Marine (eds.) Collaborating for change: Transforming cultures to end gender based violence in higher education Oxford: Oxford University Press

SGSSS Team 18 March 2021

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Urban Life, The Untold Dimension of Happiness

We are indeed aware of some spatial forces behind our actions, or for that matter, inactions. No one has ever doubted how doors enable us to move through, a possibility that a solid wall robs us from. In fact, we are so intrinsically adapted to architectural manipulations, no one is shrinking from how decisive architecture can be, when a window not only guide our gaze but also the rays of sunlight. The list goes on beyond the simplicity of doors and windows. As Lefebvre elaborates in his celebrated The Production of Space, we are impacted by architecture at all levels, “Facades were harmonised to create perspectives,” and “Streets and squares were arranged in concord with the public buildings and palaces of political leaders and institutions.” Which in turn affect us “From family dwellings to monumental edifices, from ‘private’ areas to the territory as a whole.”[1]

The moment you leave your home, you enter into a dialogue with the urban fabric. Have you ever asked yourself how much your moods are influenced by the city? After all, doors and streets do privilege some activities over others[2], but to what extent spatial features dictate our behaviour, or affect our emotions and moods? Can architecture make us happier? ‘Urban Life, The Untold Dimension of Happiness’, was a workshop that I led as part of the Festival of Creative Learning 2019 supported by Edinburgh University. The session by employing deep discussions, interactive debate and hands-on activities, was aimed to change our relationship with the city, in a way that it turns into the narrative of happiness in our everyday lives.

To that end, we first verified to what extent our happiness is located in the urban environment and secondly, how much we are aware of the built environment impact on our happiness. The 21 participants of the workshop shared their insights into some of the spatial dynamics behind our activities, such as the interplay between nature and urban space, the density of the urban configuration and the skyline in view, the property usage or the extent of which all our senses are engaged with the environment, and so on and so forth. When you imagine a happy place, is it like the Bank area in London where you can walk for at least an hour in the shadow of skyscrapers without a chance for a peek at sun, where chances are high a passenger whose business meeting is running late shoves you carelessly; or is it Edinburgh’s Victoria street where you have the skyline in view, and fresh baked bread aroma from a close by café is drifting away with a breeze? Accordingly, our moods are influenced by a combination of all these urban factors that participants personally felt strongly about.

Since Shakespeare shared his legendary question, we have come a long way. People are living roughly 45 years longer on average than Shakespeare’s compeers. All the extra time on our hands, demands a greater quality of people’s lives. Now, it is not simply the matter of being anymore, to be happy, or not to be happy, is the question. Does the answer to that question have a spatial and architectural method to it? Well, trying to get connected to our emotions and navigate their origin in our surroundings, as we did in ‘Urban life The Untold Dimension of Happiness’ workshop, certainly is a solid first step to be more mindful and a simple exercise that will eventually nudge us to find our happy place in the city.

References:

Lefebvre, Henri, and Donald Nicholson-Smith. The production of space. Vol. 142. Blackwell: Oxford, 1991.

Molotch, Harvey. “The space of Lefebvre.” Theory and Society 22, no. 6 (1993): 887-895.

[1] Lefebvre, Henri, and Donald Nicholson-Smith. The production of space. (1991):47.

[2] Molotch, Harvey. The space of Lefebvre. (1993): 888.

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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Maintaining Motivation

I’m delighted to have had the opportunity to contribute to the SGSSS Cohort Building Programme this month. The student pitches and presentations demonstrated huge impact and productivity on their projects but also demonstrated the challenge of doing a PhD. I was asked to share some thoughts on maintaining motivation to acknowledge the challenge and give some insights into how to keep my own motivation going.

I’ll start the blog as I started the presentation – by being clear about how difficult it can be to stay motivated at times. I describe myself as a “work in progress” at all the presentations I’m asked to give about professional and personal development, particularly those with a focus on productivity. Ahem.

For those who weren’t at the event , I am Dr Sara Shinton, Head of Researcher Development and my role at UoE is to oversee our training programmes for researchers at all levels. I’m also a researcher on an EPSRC funded Inclusion Matters project, Evidence Base (link: https://evidencebase.org.uk/) looking at academic culture and leadership of large strategic projects.

Rather than claiming there are universal rules of motivation, I’ll start with some insights that help me understand where my struggles with motivation come from

I know I work best under approaching deadlines, but really struggle to motivate myself without time pressure
I’ve deliberately chosen a challenging role (and add to that challenge regularly with new projects) which means progress can be slow and hard

These insights have come from a mix of experience, profiling tools and feedback. Although I don’t agree with everything that the tools report, there’s enough in them to be helpful. If you want to feel more motivated, I’d encourage you to reflect on your own drivers and barriers. One image used in my presentation was of the stressors associated with my MBTI type (link http://www.cppblogcentral.com/assets/stress-heads/esfp-stress-head.html) which include not being appreciated, having uncertainty about purpose and working without flexibility.

I asked the researchers at the programme a few reflective questions to help them understand their motivation

What naturally drives you?
What baggage do you always carry?
What enables motivation?

My next point was the motivation is built when we find “footholds”. Mine include

Clarity of objectives – knowing what to do
Having the power to do the work – being able to do it without seeking approval or permission
Clear, immovable deadlines – externally imposed as I am not a natural “finisher”
Working on tasks where my value is obvious
Others depending on me (although this can create problems if these demands grow)

Another reflective question:

What external milestones or deadlines will help you to keep going when motivation dips?

It’s vital to remember how difficult it can be to stay motivated when things are uncertain. I was reminded of this in 2018 when I got trapped in Edinburgh by the weather for four days. Although I could have used this time to catch up on writing, make progress on a proposal and be productive, I found it impossible to work. The uncertainty of not knowing when I would get home (bearing in mind I was safe, warm and being well looked after by a hospitable friend) completely corroded my motivation. By doing a PhD you are jumping into uncertainty. If this paralyses you, seek support and build certainty by remembering what you know and how you’ve grown and developed.

Another tip from my own thesis writing days was to break tasks down into things that are possible to plan and possible to finish on short timescales. The more demotivated I am, the smaller the bites I need to take (I remember motivating myself to write just one sentence at one point when writing my thesis.) If I have to write, I now use the pomodoro technique (link https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pomodoro_Technique) which strictly times focused bursts, with regular breaks. By breaking things down you also build a memory of small achievements to silence the voices which may whisper disparagingly about your ability to succeed. And whilst we on that, make sure you celebrate your successes to reinforce those memories.

Motivation and resilience are strongly linked, but rather than adding more here, I’m going to share the two resources that I drew my suggestions from. Don’t be put off by the intended audiences (physicists and research staff). They are relevant to PhDs in social scientists.

The Institute of Physics Resilience Toolkit https://www.iop.org/careers/resources-for-members/file_68925.pdf

The UoE Guide to Thriving in your Research Position: https://www.ed.ac.uk/institute-academic-development/research-roles/research-only-staff/career-management/thriving-in-your-research-position

As always, an audience of researchers adds more value than it takes so I’ll include some thoughts on a question and a comment.

How regular should deadlines be?

For this we discussed the role of the supervisor and regular meetings, perhaps monthly although this should be agreed and be flexible to the demands of the project. Meetings are deadlines and should be used to demonstrate progress and discuss challenges and choices. They will be more effective if everyone involved in engaged and prepared so many supervisors will ask for written work or an agenda in advance.

Motivation through debate

One researcher commented on the motivating impact of debate and disagreement. They were most motivated when their ideas were challenged by their supervisor which made them go away and think about how to present them better. This is a great example which illustrates how important it is to understand your own preferences. For me, debates with my supervisor were so difficult that I stopped suggesting ideas for much of my PhD. Only when he expressed disappointment with another student for not being interested in debate or working together to develop ideas did I realise this is what he was trying to do for me. I overcame my aversion to disagreement and started to develop the skills to defend and explain my ideas which I needed for my viva.

Some final points to finish

Remember what you’re aiming for and why
Equip yourself to deliver success
Protect your time and energy
Knowing your skills and strengths and use them
Manage your weaknesses
Take responsibility, but use support

Good luck and be kind to yourself!

Image credit: Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay
https://pixabay.com/photos/stairway-wooden-bridge-wooden-1149473/
https://pixabay.com/users/free-photos-242387/

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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Presenting at the Social Policy Association (SPA) Conference – trepidations and reality

The first time I heard about the SPA conference, I was not sure whether my research would fit in. My PhD focuses on the practice of community development. It compares the effect of approaches aimed at helping people “navigate the system” to those approaches aimed at helping people “change the system” to see which better advances the well-being of communities facing disadvantage. This has little to do with, what I thought was, the focus of a social policy conference: policy development in traditional areas like housing, labour markets and social security, policy discourse and the welfare state. Yet, the SPA conference was much more diverse than I had expected. For a small conference, it had a wide variety of research areas including migration, equalities, gender, youth and voluntary community sector. Attendants also represented a wide range of disciplines, which I found extremely useful during my session.

The SPA conference was also supportive of postgraduate and early career researchers. It offered a mentor scheme that paired senior academics with postgraduate researchers. This was a great opportunity to meet experts in the field and receive further feedback. In my case, my mentor was extremely supportive, giving me useful tips before the conference and detailed feedback after my presentation. Besides the mentor scheme, the conference also provided dedicated spaces for postgraduate and early career researchers such as welcome breakfasts and lunch forums.

There was one down-side to the conference, though. It was expensive. Fees for SPA members were around £400 (lunch and dinners included) and on the top of that, there was the price of accommodation. There were one-day tickets available, but these were also pricey and limited opportunities to network. I was lucky to get a postgraduate discount, which reduced the price of the conference significantly. If you are thinking of attending the conference next year, make sure you apply as soon as possible, since there are a limited number of tickets available.

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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Big Data in Small Packages

North of Sonderborg, alongside the Alssund, the gentle farmland of Jutland stretches into the horizon. Fields of early autumn colours keep small patches of woodland company as the summer comes to a close with a final, and intense, hurrah. Deer move freely between the grasses and the trees, ignoring the hedgerows and fences demarking man-made borders, and graze watchfully as human visitors descend onto their land. Along the shoreline, the sun-drenched waters of the Alssund lap with a knowing urgency that the summer will soon be gone, shimmering in the evening gloom with a blue luminescence that mirrors the ether above. The end of the season leaves hay baling at the forefront of many minds in Jutland, but not those of the visitors. Wedged between the Alssund and a small lake, as tightly as the thatching of the roofs that litter the area, is the yellow mansion of the Sandbjerg estate. Within the mansion the visitors have a different agenda – personal sensors. How can they be used? What are their practical and ethical implications?

I’m attending the inaugural summer school hosted by the Big Data Centre for Environment and Health (BERTHA), where the chosen emphasis for the six days in which we have taken over the Sandbjerg estate is the use of personal sensors in research. At first glance this seems quite a niche focus, but it immediately becomes clear the world of personal sensors is a broad church with room for interest from across disciplines. This is exemplified as summer school participants (MSc and PhD students alongside Postdocs) come forward to deliver short presentations summarising their own research. For me, this is an opportunity to share my developing understanding around the sub-second measurement of movement and its relationship with neurodevelopmental risk. For others, it is an opportunity to discuss humans and companion robots, the use of sensors for environmental particle measurement, or the use of machine learning in neuroscience. The extensive range of topics, disciplines and interests makes the entire event a trip beyond my comfort zone and into a realm of academic uncertainty.

Initially this is an unnerving experience as each day we are presented with a different personal sensor and tasked with designing a study that will utilise its potential. I’m genuinely surprised at how easy it is to become intimidated when those around you possess skills very different from your own. However, with each sensor we work with a new group of participants and begin to exploit the skills and expertise of each team member. This not only allows for an efficient work process and improved final product, but creates the opportunity for us to learn from and appreciate the backgrounds of one another. By the final project we are working as finely-honed research teams, any trepidation has vanished, and the whole process has become a thoroughly enjoyable learning experience.

Our time spent working with and understanding the role of fitness sensors in research is especially thought provoking. As well as gaining hands on experience with the sensors we are also exposed to experts who are currently using them (in conjunction with mobile applications) in their own research, which allows us to hear the opportunities and challenges associated with off-the-shelf fitness monitors. The evenings provide the opportunity for continued access to the experts in a more informal environment that prompts not only the sharing of thoughts and ideas, but also an exploration of the motivations and differences that come with working alongside individuals from different countries and cultures. Conversations in the sauna, over table tennis, and during games of Kubb (a Scandinavian lawn game that Wikipedia describes as a cross between bowling and horseshoes – it’s a lot more fun than it sounds) focus minds, build relationships and cement the first BERTHA summer school as a success.

As the final day of the summer school dawns, so has autumn. Clouds blot out the sun that has drenched Jutland and rain replaces the rays that warmed the soil and the sea. It bombards the fields and woodlands, bouncing from leaves and quickly saturating the earth. The once serene Alssund no longer laps at the shore, but has found a renewed menace that lay subdued over the summer months. Deer continue to cross borders without care and are oblivious to the visitors departing Sandbjerg estate. Each visitor takes with them an enhanced understanding of both the opportunities and challenges associated with using personal sensors in research, along with the experience of working on testing assignments with colleagues from different countries and disciplines. As groups of attendees disappear into the rain, the ongoing deluge marks both the end of summer, and the culmination of the first BERTHA summer school.

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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PhD ‘Must-knows’ from attending the Big Data Centre for Environment and Health (BERTHA) Summer School

PhD ‘Must-knows’

In late August I attended a summer school in Denmark run by the Big Data Centre for Environment and Health (BERTHA). The lessons I learned in those few days changed how I perceive myself, academia, and the potential impact my research could have on the world.

Lesson 1: Selling your research

After briefly presenting my project to the group someone boldly asked the question “who funds this research?”. They then went on to imply that they didn’t think the public would be happy that their money was spent in this way. Initially the comment stung, but the more I thought about it, the more I realise what a great question that was. Thinking back at what I had said, I realised I hadn’t spent much time at all emphasising the potential impact of my work in the outside world… so to people outside my field it probably all seemed a bit bizarre!

Top tip: as researchers we are under increasing pressure to make an impact, help people, and make a difference… so be ready for questions about the impact of your own research. Also, tailor your presentation to your audience! Although it may be obvious to you why your research is important, others may need a more explicit explanation!

Lesson 2: Cultural differences

After me there was another presentation – someone planning a project in Madeira, monitoring the movement of babies immediately after birth. I proceeded to ask how this was possible, as mothers are encouraged to hold their child close after birth. They responded saying that in Madeira babies are placed in cribs immediately after they are born, and there isn’t the same emphasis on skin-to-skin contact that we have in the UK. This was such an eye-opening moment.

Top tip: it’s natural to try and figure out the world based on your own experiences and knowledge, however beware of the assumptions you’re making. Although we are training to become experts there is so much we don’t know, and other people have experienced things we have probably never even considered. When thinking about your own research, do consider cultural differences. It might complicate things, but it’ll likely improve your understanding of the world we live in.

Lesson 3: Control the narrative

In a discussion about ethics, a professor recounted a story of how their results had been misinterpreted by the media. This incorrect interpretation was then picked up by politicians who proceeded to use them in their campaigns and arguments. Listening to this story made me realise the influence that our research can have, but also how difficult it can be to ‘put things right’ when incorrect information gets out.

Top tip: although it can be difficult, as researchers we need to control the narrative as best we can. In addition to talking to your supervision team, your university/organisation should have a press/media liaison team that you can chat to about how best to convey your research… and avoid common pitfalls!

Lesson 4: Choose your words wisely

On day three we had a talk stressing the impact of the language we use. They emphasised that if we slip into using words like something “causes” or “leads” to something else, it’s not trivial. In addition to making big claims about your skills and the validity of your measurement tools, you’re also implying that you fully understand what is likely a complicated interplay of factors.

Top tip: If you’re going to use the word cause, be ready for the scrutiny… and also be ready for the media and the public to latch on!

Lesson 5: Take it personally!

After presenting again later in the week I was pulled aside by a professor. In addition to complimenting my presenting style they mentioned that they were slightly distracted by my repetition of the phrase “and things like that”. I felt a pang of stupidity as I realised my phrasing had taken away from the message I was trying to convey. Rather than letting this become a negative though, I filled my head with gratitude and thoughts of becoming one the best presenters out there. I then ‘bit the bullet’ and asked for further feedback about my presentation. In the process I learnt a huge amount about myself and the way I come across to other people.

Top tip: if you want to get better at something, you could watch videos and read about how to improve, but a more efficient route is to ask for help from someone with the skills you desire. It can be tough to hear (especially when it’s things like your words, body language, and behaviour) but with the right mindset you can use the information to change your life for the better!

Final Comments

In addition to these lessons I learnt a huge amount from Big Data Centre for Environment and Health about big data, data protection, and the complexities of monitoring the environment using sensors. I encourage anyone with an interest in big data and/or personalised sensors to check them out at http://projects.au.dk/bertha/. In addition to thanking BERTHA I am extremely grateful to the SGSSS for funding the experience. To explore the range of training opportunities they have to offer visit https://www.sgsss.ac.uk/training/.

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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Overseas Institutional Visits: I went, I saw, I conquered (my own fears) by Hazel Booth

On a chilly November day just over two years ago, I sat in a room which reeked of excitement and fear. It was emanating from me, and possibly the rest the new intake of ESRC-funded PhD students who sitting with me at the SGSSS induction event. In those early days, we hadn’t worked out how to tell others about our studies in the snappy accessible phrases we’d eventually adopt, so every coffee-break conversation that day took forever. It was during one of those breaks that I remember a fellow newbie asking whether I was thinking of taking advantage of the funded overseas institutional visit we had just been told about. ‘Nah mate, not for me. I’d never manage to live abroad on my own, let alone work confidently with academic types I’ve never even met’.

Fast-forward two years, and here I am, tanned by late-Summer Canadian sunshine and writing a blog about my trip. Who’da thunk it? Not me, that’s for sure. So why did I do it? What had changed since that November day two years ago?

The reasons I went were simple, and resolutely academic. Canada is the birthplace of my field, Mad Studies. In the second half of the 20th century Canadian intellectual heavyweights were thinking Big Thoughts about what it was to be mad in a sanist world. When I’d entered my own PhD decades later, it was this theoretical perspective which seemed to speak loudest and best for me. I knew I needed to learn more, and I’d long understood that ploughing through books could only get me so far. After all, some of my best ideas in HE had come from those random encounters and surprising conversations I’d had over a teeny-tiny cup of coffee at training events. I’d learned that knowledge is often a group exercise. I realised I needed to immerse myself in the field and create a chance to mingle with some of my heroes. I knew that my own study, knowledge and skills would be immeasurably better as a result. The problem was that although fine and esteemed scholars had taken up the mad gauntlet for the UK, I felt that if I could, I’d best benefit from going to where it had all started.

In my head, however, was that ongoing fear that I wasn’t up to it. The turnabout came when I acknowledged to myself that my studies have already made me braver. Anxiety is my constant companion, but I’ve learned to ignore its constant negativity. Inch by inch I’ve responded to a supportive supervisory team and the enticements of my academic curiosity, and I’ve stretched myself. What used to terrify me, now just gives me a tingle of adrenaline. Speaking with a degree of research-based confidence to conference goers, students, senior academics and to my fiercest critic of all, Dad? I can do it. Attending bustling conferences? Bring it on. Dealing with critical feedback? Still not fun, but absolutely necessary and totally do-able. I’ve crawled from underneath my safety blanket. Could I add a new one to my list of personal triumphs? Travelling, living and working abroad? Holding my own with other academics? Of course I could. The benefits outweighed my eroding fears. First, I made my case for going on an OIV to myself, then I stuck it all on an application form and applied for funding.

Funding was secured and I was Canada-bound two years after I’d drunk coffee in that hot room and told somebody I wouldn’t dream of doing an OIV. The trip certainly lived up to my expectations. A lot of that was the result of some pretty detailed planning. In the lead-up to the OIV I’d worked with my host in Canada, my supervisors, a person I knew who’d been on an OIV before, my Uni HE admin, PhD peers and anybody who I thought might be able to add their tuppence-worth. It meant that I worked out in advance what I wanted to achieve, and had established that it was achievable. I’d converse and learn and maybe get a paper out of it. I’d deliver a talk about my study. I’d attend an event where I’d certainly get a chance to improve my networks. I’d get some ideas about how scholars in Canada managed to create impact with their thinking, and get some ideas about to create my own.

As I got closer to the visit logistical planning became important; how was I going to get to the airport, travel around when I got there, how would I use my phone, did I need a visa, was my passport in date, would I have free access to wi-fi, did I need sunscreen (I did++)? Because I know me well, I made sure that I had a clear idea about who to contact if I went into a meltdown 3500 miles from home. Planning is important. My experience tells me that if I’ve planned enough there are few worrying surprises to freak me out, but this OIV was to teach me to rethink that script. It seems that over-planning is a thing. Surprises aren’t always worrying. Sometimes they’re absolutely wonderful. In Canada, I produced the outcomes I’d planned for, but that was only the half of it. My host was busy. I couldn’t monopolise her time, so I had to take advantage of meeting and speaking to others whenever I could. This was a real value-add. Remembering the random conversations I’d had over teeny-tiny cups of coffee throughout my PhD, I already knew that some of the best ideas, discussions and learning was opportunistic. In Canada I met my heroes, but it was there that I created some new ones. I met people and visited organisations that made me fizz with excitement, filled my head with ideas and intellectual connections, and filled my address book with names. Exploiting random opportunities was an important outcome for me, and one I didn’t think to put on my application.

I realise that the benefits of the OIV have been far-reaching, and in part unexpected. The academic case for going to Canada was solid and the preparation thorough, but there was a great deal of advantage to be found in seizing unplanned opportunities. My personal circumstances made the prospect of going to Canada challenging, but I took courage from my reflections about the huge personal growth I’d already made during the PhD and took a bold step into the Canadian sunlight. The summary of this blog is clear: don’t chuck it in the ‘too hard for me’ bin. If there’s a Canada somewhere in the world for you, you owe it to your study and yourself to find a way to go if you possibly can.

SGSSS Team 30 April 2020

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