My dissertation is unlovable. I really want to, but it is pretty uncooperative. I thought two Amazon shipments of Japanese office supplies would motivate me to sit down and finish my literature review in one fell swoop, but unfortunately, what I really need is UPS to drop off data.
The problem is data. I previously worked as a research assistant in healthcare policy, which has a lot of qualitative data and literature on basically every topic. My topic, however, is interdisciplinary and comparative. The literature I rely on is written in English my western scholars, so there is an entire world of Japanese scholarship I am unable to penetrate from my vantage point, and of that literature that is available, it comes from disciplines that are unlike mine.
It is all great scholarship and I admire the academics who did such thoughtful work. But it feels like sewing a patchwork quilt of facts I scavenged. It is difficult to find original research and supporting data; most of the work is interpretive, bolstered by anecdotes, media reports, and interviews as primary sources.
I can accept this at face value and do what everyone else does, which is cite each other, or try to find the primary data, but frankly, I am at a loss of how to do this.
Part of the problem is that I simply do not have access to the resources I need. My university does not specialize in Asian topics nor has a law school, so we never purchased access to those databases.
My wish list includes numbers and statistics on litigation rates over a number of a decades and court decisions.
For the litigation statistics, they are published in an annual report which is available at a midwestern university and my library is more than happy to request it. The problem is that the annual report has four parts and they are bound copies, not electronic, which would like make quick translation a nightmare. The next issue is making thirty interlibrary loan request. I am certain my dissertation would never be finished and the librarians would revolt with pitchforks. Certainly there is an easier way, but I don't know what it is.
The next issue are the court decisions. I can reach out to one of those great law libraries that has access to those databases. . . But come on. I expect more of the internet. Those cases have to be somewhere unrestricted.
The lack of those resources do not make or break my own research. But perhaps, like most doctoral minions, I want my dissertation to be perfect. I also want to publish something authoratative and concise, the kind of work I want to read.
I just really need to get the literature review done. Nobody said it had to be perfect. In fact, people are pleading for it to be imperfect.
It does not need to be perfect. In fact, as I am discovering, much of the literature I consult is wrought with errors, sometimes critical (as in the content is inaccurate) to minor (typos, misspelled words, grammatical errors). I am assured the quality is just fine and I will do no better.
I read one such chapter from a dissertation today. I gained no more insights that I previously knew, except that this individual apparently worked for a prominent scholar who hates my guts for no other reason that the sky is blue when the sun is out.
That did not help my sense of feeling like I am locked out of a house or denied access by a stone-faced bouncer at a party.
Why do academics maintain silos? Articles are secure unless your institution purchased the journal for a hefty fee, off the grid and the work is $39.99, on the server, it's "free to you", as though it is a benefit of a club. A scholar acknowledges his work would not have been made possible without the help and connections he made along the way, yet coldly rejects any requests for assistance from a student who admires his work. The prestigious university in the posh side of town ignores collaborative inquiries from the large urban research university downtown. Tenured faculty acknowledge the poor working conditions of adjuncts and collateral faculty, yet do little to fight the good fight on their behalf and have them sit at the table.
I don't know the answers to any of those questions, dissertation or rhetorical. I am just going to have to gird myself and start asking.
When a notification popped up for a cultural group I belong to from an undergraduate at my institution who wanted to know about internship opportunities, she was curtly greeted with a response from another member that the committee did no such thing. I enthusiastically replied to her.
We were a lot alike, our academic journeys, dual-enrolled at two institutions to study a language and eager to find a toehold in the field for the career of our dreams but no idea how to do it. Seeing my 20 year old self in this 20 year old, I shared my experience and suggestions with her via chat. Mostly because she wanted to know about "the internships u know about." My information was met with "that's cool" and "uh huh."
I encouraged her to reach out to me if she needed any help after giving her four points of contact. I would be happy to discuss my journey or read her materials.
She wrote back asking if I knew about a committee because she heard back from a woman at my university it. I replied that yes, I knew about it-- I responded to her post on the committee page. That is, she did not put two and two together, it was the same committee. I also explained that the committee did not offer internships.
"Actually, it does," she replied. "She just offered me one." Like that? I spend nearly fifteen years working on three academic degrees and multiple professional positions to develop a career and all I had to do was be blissfully unaware of an organization that just gives me an internship because I ask? If I had known that, the ensuing years where I tried on several jobs for size would certainly have been kinder.
Yet somehow, in the six hours between propositioning a Facebook group for an internship and reaching out to a complete stranger she had no idea was affiliated, this student got the jackpot. Suddenly, I am useless, and maybe she'll see me at the event next week she did not know existed until I informed her of it, even though she is just started working there three minutes prior.
I remember the first intern I encountered. I studied four languages and actually had my degree in hand already, yet landed a low paying entry level job while the kid next to me completed tasks that were far above her pay grade of free (and mine too). She likely started with a salary at least $10K higher than mine for that brief two month stint. Lovely.
I would like to think I made a difference in my student's, advisee's, and mentee's lives, but maybe they only liked me because of my cynical humor and superb bangs.
And maybe there in lies the problem. Some of the siloing occurs because some people and institutions really believe they are better. But maybe some siloing happens because most of us spend blood, sweat, and tears to break on through and are too tired and too jaded to lend a hand to a earnest, peppy kid who has time on their side.
I cannot write everything I am feeling on a public blog post, other than I have been dragging my feet on this dissertation because there is a club I am seeking admittance, and my work is just as good but unrecognized. I am tired of tiptoeing around the silo, pretending I belong or trying to prove I do belong, but doing so timidly, asking permission.
My work is just as valid, I worked twice as hard, and I am not going anywhere.
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