This is happening again: Janet’s class (ABR) has not even started, and I am already in that mental “leavening” mode: my head teeming with ideas and arguments why some ideas are worth pursuing and others are not.
This time, in the summer 2018 break, I did not allow myself slouch between the semesters: I have been trying to read Erin Manning’s “In the Minor Gesture” book that Jenni recommended months ago, but I have not had the time to read. Side thought bubbles up: “How do professors do it? Where do they find the time to read to stay intellectually fit? I hope that in my professional future I am afforded the opportunity to read texts not directly related to my job objectives.” I also have been reading Foucault: “Madness and Civilization” (Richard Howard’s translation). I have not gone past the introduction. Reading is heavy, but not so much because I do not understand it, but because I am compelled to highlight every other thought–they all seem so profound. I wonder if this is how all my philosophy readings are going to be.
Speaking of philosophy… I signed up to do a presentation on Autoethnography in Janet’s Qual 1 class, and there has been a constant stream as I imagine what I will say and why. It is a jumbled mess at the moment. I feel the urge to teach this class sometime, but right now I am still processing and organizing all that I learned. I do not have a good autoethnography to show for myself–just bits and pieces that need time to ferment and grow as I am still walking on this shaky ground trying to justify that my voice as a researcher and participant is important. I have been down this road many times by now, and I am fairly confident that if I find some other person’s story of her experiences as an individual with autism fascinating and illuminating, then likewise, my story as a parent of a child with autism will find someone’s attention. But there is more significance to my struggles than I originally thought: it is not that I struggle with self-esteem (I have in the past, and I still do in certain areas); not that I lack confidence as a researcher and a speaker (I know I do, though oddly, I am extremely confident that my lack confidence is just lack of experience easily remedied); it is that I realize that I am trying to shed the skin of positivism and grow a new one, not yet sure which one. I like Foucault. I like Manning. I am sure I like others as well, but I am not yet familiar with them. This is where my struggles with autoethnography brood. This is where philosophy comes in.
So I consider my idea for a dissertation that focuses on my journey from a mother, graphic artist, an undergraduate psychology major to a researcher and a PhD (see here, Idea Number Four), and I realize that this might actually be good. I wonder how many of us students graduate as doctors of philosophy without considering philosophy beyond the Philosophies of Inquiry class. I know some students who want the degree to prove to someone they can, some need the degree to stay relevant in their jobs, others are there for the knowledge and training, many are driven by a mixture of reasons. But how many of us are actually delving into philosophy because we sense the developmental need? How many of us make the time to read anything other than our textbooks? It is incredibly difficult with all the other competing needs and wants. I want to enjoy my children–they are amazing! I do not want to wake up one day and realize that time flew by and I missed it all. I want to say “yes, they grew up too fast, but I enjoyed watching them grow.” Danny now is in first grade–he is still lovey-dovey, cuddly, cute. He needs a lot of attention and both Ed and I are happy to give it to him, but what about the time to read and to think? I look at Eddie every day and I marvel at how he became such handsome, strong, kind, and intelligent young man. He is barely 13, but he is more mature than this. I enjoy him as a peer and find it difficult to talk down to him. Becky, too. She is a teenaged girl with all the frustrating and annoying attitudes and habits, and I catch myself being too critical and not at all supportive because her attitudes drive me crazy, but she fascinates me with her insights into her world of autstic perception, and I love the moments when we hang out and talk; when she wants me to do her hair or asks me to go for a walk. Where do I find the time to enjoy my husband? We both seem to agree that in this stage of our lives our children are a priority, so we try to connect whenever we can knowing our seeming lack of attention to each other is temporary. We still manage to challenge each other intellectually whenever we can and keep making our journey together, but also somehow parallel to each other. Hence, my development as a philosopher cannot follow a traditional academic path (is there such thing as “traditional academic path,” anyway? I guess, I am referring to a brilliant young undergraduate who just kept going to school instead of taking a break to start a family, to figure out who I am and why I exist) I must live and find my growth through daily experiences. A month ago, as I was rambling about Foucault to Eddie, he must have referenced whatever concept he formed about philosophy, commented about my interest in philosophy and asked whether I still want to do research, then I answered “well, I am going to be a Doctor of PHILOSOPHY,” and suddenly, it dawned on me that so far, my experience with philosophy has been shallow, not nearly enough to count toward the “Ph” in the “PhD.”
As for the idea for my dissertation, the one where I want to talk about my journey to the PhD, I keep interrogating it. This time, I apply Manning’s discussion of what counts is a good research problem and what does not: ”
“Here I am following Henri Bergson, who suggests that the best problem is the one that opens up an intuitive process, not the one that already carries within itself its fix. A solvable problem was never really a problem, Bergson reminds us. Only when a question is in line with the creation of a problem is it truly operational. Most academic questions are of the solvable, unproblematic sort. What the undercommons seeks are real problems, problems intuited and crafted in the inquiry.” “The challenge, as Bergson underscores, involves crafting the conditions not to solve problems, or to resolve questions, but to illuminate regions of thought through which problems- without- solutions can be intuited.” p. 10
So I think my idea is a good one as it helps shed some light into the androgogy of developing a student into a PhD. It is certainly in line with the mission of education and preparation of research methodologists.