jargon

I’ve turned my new dissertation proposal over to my committee. Now, I wait for them to read it and hope they approve so I can get started.  So odd to think that I am still at the beginning, when it feels like I’ve been thinking about it for so long. I have a road map and a timeline now, and, if all goes as planned, I will finish my dissertation in June 2013 and I will defend in August.  Then I’ll be Dr. Megan, and I’ll begin my life as a scholar.

The proposal is built on the ideas I wrote about in my last post, but, of course, it is written in the kind of jargon you would expect from a dissertation proposal. The funny thing is, the more I try to explain what I’m doing, the more I find I am in need of this jargon, and, in fact, I am making more jargon.  This is not unlike my experience with the philosophy of quantum mechanics course I took at Columbia in 2004. When I signed up, it didn’t occur to me that a philosophy class might be based largely on mathematical representations of information, but this one was.  I hadn’t taken a math course in almost twenty years, but I proudly kept up with the math (to some degree). My final paper was riddled with mathematical symbols and formulae, but I needed those symbols to properly convey my point.  I found there was no way to understand quantum mechanics without the symbols; no direct translation. This was when I reconsidered my interest in Columbia’s History and Philosophy of Science program. I was interested in public engagement with science (though I did not yet know that is what it is called), and I had just written a paper about science that no one I knew could understand.  When I discovered the Cornell program in Science Communication, I was elated because I thought I’d found a program that would allow me to work on things that anyone could understand. But here I am, developing my own untranslatable symbols and formulae.  They may be words found in any English Language dictionary, but that doesn’t mean the concepts can be illuminated with that dictionary.  Many of these words are imbued with a whole history of discourse (is this sentence jargon?), and when I use them, they are meant to evoke that discourse. Over the next year, I think I will use this blog to test out my jargon and its definitions, to see if I can make it clear to someone who hasn’t read my dissertation or anything on the five page (and growing) bibliography attached to it.

something to say

Alright, I’m going to try to get some of this out here before I start the formal abstract and proposal.  I’ve been pretty down about my dissertation, in part because I didn’t feel like I had a “book worthy” dissertation, and in part because I wasn’t sure what I had to say.  Well, I’ve futzed with the proposal, and dragged my heels and worked on a few other papers for a while now.

A few nights ago, I said out loud that I didn’t like my dissertation.  I told my friends it wasn’t what I’d hoped it would be.  I then made an off-handed remark to one of my committee members that I wished I was writing my dissertation on Charley Harper, whom I had been researching for another paper.  ”Why don’t you?” was her answer.  ”This is really cool stuff.”  There were many reasons not to change my whole dissertation to another topic that used different research methods and had a different epistemological foundation than the design work that formed the basis of my current dissertation.  But her comment got me thinking, so I began to think about what it would mean to start over, and how I would do so. I then began to think about what was really bothering me about my dissertation.

There are a few standard sections in a dissertation.  One is the literature review.  The lit review is where you position yourself in the scholarly community by discussing the ways others have written and thought about your topic and similar topics.  Well, the only part of my dissertation I was actually excited to write was the literature review. This is a problem, because the dissertation proposal has an overview of the lit review, but it also includes a long discussion of your research questions.  I hated mine.  I didn’t like the questions because I wasn’t compelled to answer them. It wasn’t that Frontstage wasn’t a worthy pursuit, it just wasn’t dissertation worthy.  It didn’t say enough about my research, past and present, in a compelling enough way.

But what would?  Did I want to do the other project? Or a totally new project?  I don’t want to scrap everything I’ve done on Frontstage or on the Harper project.  So I began to think about what they have in common.  I did some sketching out of what I have been doing here over the past few years:

Doc 12 1 11 1 11 PM page 1The image is rough, and you don’t need to bother to read it all, but what I’ve found (I think) is a way to incorporate all of my projects into one conversation.  And I like that conversation.  Here’s what it means:

I am working on three major projects right now: Frontstage, the Harper Project, and Emergence, which is a Redshift project to develop a play that showcases condensed matter physics (think of it as physics of the normal).  My role in each project is quite different.  In Frontstage, I am a designer, and I’m doing a design as research project, in which I provoke the world to respond to a design, and I learn something about them and about the design.  My role in the Harper project is much more traditional.  I have done archival work and will continue to do historical work, I will also do visual analyses, and possibly interviews or focus groups.  In the third project, I am a participant observer, meaning my role in the development and production of the show is part of my research.  I’ve been a participant observer in arts projects before.  First for my MS thesis and next for my second year project.

The bottom line is that I have three projects, with three different methodologies, that are equally important to who I am as a researcher (and a human).  What do they have in common? What do they say about my work? How do I position myself on the job market? I began to draw out what they have in common and I realized that there are are two things I am truly fascinated by:

 

  • Crossing boundaries. I am fascinated by work that crosses boundaries.  My work in the boundary of research and design  and my work with artists and scientists both reflect this, as does my work looking at Harper’s images as both tools for science education and works of art.
  • Engagement with publics. I am committed to understanding relationships between experts and publics, and the changing nature of the way experts frame and understand their interactions with the public.  As a designer, I work with users in the design process, and as a researcher I am interested in topics in which art and science (or art or science) are presented as ways of engaging with the public.

Both boundary crossing and public engagement have become a part of the academic consciousness in recent years, and, as it turned out, these two themes formed the basis of my literature review, but not necessarily my research topic. Now, I intend to write about the ways this is not a coincidence; the ways these might be a part of the same conversation.  What does it mean when we look at them together rather than separately? We begin to see changing patterns and attitudes toward engaging with people in other fields and people in the public, and, as a result; perhaps we see the beginning of a new way to be a scholar. So my dissertation now becomes the work I want to do to define what that new kind of scholar looks like.

 

 

the emotional roller coaster of dissertating

Last time I wrote that the dissertation was feeling a bit mundane.  The truth is, it was feeling very mundane.  I’ve come to realize that I measure the worth of my dissertation by how interesting/useful/groundbreaking it will be when it becomes a book.  Why? Because, my first year of grad school, one of my committee members made an offhanded remark about my dissertation becoming a book.  It wasn’t so much what he said, but the way he said it, with complete confidence.

There are two models for transforming a dissertation into something that someone other than your advisor will actually read.  The first is an article model, in which several chapters of your dissertation become peer reviewed articles. The second is a book model, in which you get a book deal to turn your dissertation into a book.  Most scientists in the natural or physical sciences go the article road, because there is no academic value in science books (other than textbooks, which are not the stuff of dissertations, but wouldn’t it be cool if they could be? Just saying…) In the social sciences and humanities, it is split; it t really depends on your focus.

So, somehow, the way my committee member talked about it, I got it into my head: my dissertation must be book-worthy.  Since that moment, every time I think about it, I either recognize the potential value of the book I will write, or I don’t . When I don’t, I am not excited about the dissertation, and when I do, I begin to think about all of the possibilities, even within such a limited study.

Today is a good day for dissertating. I  met with someone from the Science Cabaret, and we talked about the possibility of studying the monthly cabaret, and also working with them on an art/science festival that will be held in February.

the dissertation proposal

I’m still rewriting my dissertation proposal.  I’ve been slogging along, working more on other papers and projects, because, frankly, I’m not inspired.  I know I will be once I get out there and start researching, but, right now, it feels like a mundane project.  I think this is because I haven’t started actually collecting data.  Once I get in the field, things will get interesting because, no matter how unhappy I am with the ideas I have now, I’ll have something interesting to talk about.  That’s how it works.  I thought I’d have nothing to say about the first user tests for Frontstage, but watching the videos of people watching videos and typing on their phones actually told me a lot more than I thought it would.  Data will always surprise you (at least when you collect the kind of data I collect).

For the data for my dissertation, I will be conducting interviews, observations, and focus groups.  These are all methods used by the audience studies scholars I wrote about for my a exam for T.   So, all of these methods will be part of how I learn from the people I am studying.  I’ll also be using Frontstage, which I mentioned in my last post, where I wrote about design methodology.  It’s true, Frontstage uses design as a way to inquire about audiences and presenters, but Frontstage won’t play as large a role in my dissertation as I initially imagined.  I suspect that’s one of the reasons I am having difficulties re-writing my dissertation proposal.  The problem is really that there are too many pieces in this puzzle, and they aren’t all fitting.  I can’t put them all in there and expect to say something about design AND audiences and experts AND presentations AND art and science.  And removing one of these fascinating aspects of my work is still just too hard.  I still see all of these connections and these resonances.

For example, I can’t get out of my head that these two ideas are connected:

  1. I am interested in looking at the way artists and scientists think about their audiences, and how it might be helpful for them to work together, using both of these perspectives, so that what they present is richer.
  2. When I use a design to do research, I am also thinking like a designer and like a researcher for the same project, and I think that what I find when I combine these two perspectives is richer than what I’d find if I just did research or design.

Hopefully, you can see how these are related.  Two ways of approaching the world might have something to offer one another, and those ways are traditionally seen as dichotomies.  But, for the dissertation, it isn’t enough to say there is a resonance between the way each of these supposed “either/or” scenarios of art/science and design/research both become “and” scenarios.  Well, I should say, it isn’t enough and it’s too much. There isn’t enough information, there are too many ideas, and I just don’t have a way of making them all clear and concise, or a way of folding them into a good research story.  It’s like the third season of LOST, when there are too many characters and plot lines, and you kind of lose interest because you can’t make sense of it all.  Yes, I am comparing my dissertation to a a television show with smoke monsters, time travel, and tropical island-dwelling polar bears.

hello ABD

Last week, I finished my A exams, and became a doctoral candidate, rather than a PhD student.  So far, so good.  I’m working on a proper dissertation proposal for my committee now, and getting things going with the project about which I will write my dissertation.

It was a bit of a harrowing journey to completion, followed by what felt a bit like a break up–I watched TV and ate junk food for a day and half, had trouble getting back into the swing of things, and I replayed my worst moments of the oral exam over an over in my head, obsessing about what I should have said.

But I passed, so it really doesn’t matter now.  I can breathe a sigh of relief and begin the real work of dissertating.  Believe it or not, I think that begins with this blog.  I’m going to be using it to think through some of my ideas and to try to make sense of what I’m doing and why I am doing it.

There’s a catch, though.  Because it is a blog–a public forum–my plan is to speak to a wide audience rather than a narrow one.  So the blog will be addressed to everyone: other academics, scientists, artists, and audiences of all kinds.  Since my work is about how experts and publics relate to one another, I figure I better put my money where my mouth is and make this a conversation with the people I am studying as well as those I am addressing in the dissertation.

So, I’m just going to dive right in and describe the project.

The dissertation will be about 3 case studies in which audiences interact with professionals in art and science. First, I’m going to be studying a theatrical production called Long Ago in May, which will be performed in April 2012 at the Schwartz Center at Cornell.  I’m also planning to work with the folks at Science Cabaret, though they don’t know it quite yet.  Finally, I’m hoping to look at a science museum, though I’m not sure which one.

Now, the question is, what am I going to do with these three cases?  I’m using what’s called a design methodology, which means that I am investigating these cases by making something.  Almost all of my research has been like this, I suspect because of my background in theatre.  I am more at home when I’m making something than when I’m observing, but I’m also pretty good at making things that can get people thinking and talking about what I am trying to understand.  And that’s what I love doing.

In this case, I am designing an iOS app (an application for iPhones, iPods, and iPads) called Frontstage.  The app is named after Erving Goffman‘s Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, a theory that describes human interactions using theatre as a metaphor.  According to Goffman, we present our frontstage to others, accentuating our most positive qualities while concealing our worst.  Our front and back stages are contextual, meaning we do not present the same self in every situation.

Okay, explaining Goffman was a bit of a digression, but a fun one, because Presentation of Self is also the inspiration for the title of this blog.  Back to Frontstage, the app.   The traditional term for Frontstage is an audience response system, or ARS.  But, Fronstage will not be a traditional ARS, which is not surprising because I don’t do anything traditionally.  I’m not going to go into too many details about the design or the design process in this post, but I’m sure I will write about it in the future.  For now, I’ll wrap up by explaining that I am going to observe people using Frontstage in these three contexts, and then I am going to write about it.  And this will take the better part of the next two years of my life.

It should be fun.

I will wrap this up soon, but I want to say a bit about why I am doing this.  I’m hoping for a couple of things.  First, I am hoping to make new knowledge.  In this case, the knowledge will be about how audience and presenters interact with one another in different disciplines.  The thing that sets my research apart is the fact that I am looking at these relationships in art and science, and in situations in which involve both art and science.  What are the differences in the ways artists think about audience and the ways scientists do?

So, there’s the new knowledge piece, but there’s also the practical piece.  I’m hoping that I can improve the relationship between experts and audiences, especially in the sciences.  I’m hoping that I’ll be able to provide practical insights on how scientists can better engage the public.

I’m sorry that this post is mostly exposition, but I promise the good stuff is coming.  Not hair-pulling-reality-show good stuff, but, hopefully, what I learn will be of interest and of value.  And I’m sure there will be plenty of good stories along the way.   I’m going to writing about Frontstage here regularly, and I hope you will all keep me honest.  I also hope that being able to explain what I am doing in plain English will help me explain it in academic-ese as well.

art and…

On March 17, the United Nations held a discussion with the cast and creators of Battlestar Galactica that dealt with, among other things, human rights, race, and the reconciliation of people of different religions.

Of course, this a very high honor for the series, and for sci-fi nerds everywhere (myself included). But it is more than that.

This event was part of the UN Department of Public Information’s new Creative Community Outreach Initiative (CCOI). The CCOI has also granted access for Law and Order: Special Victims Unit to film at UN Headquarters in New York (this has never happened before, apparently). From the press release

As one of the launch projects of the Creative Community Outreach Initiative, this event will show how skilful storytelling can elevate the profile of critical humanitarian issues,” said Kiyo Akasaka, United Nations Under-Secretary-General for Communications and Public Information. “Not only does it present an opportunity for creative discussion, but, more importantly, it offers a chance to deliver a message about the many harsh realities that still exist worldwide.

While it may be that the CCOI is little more than a glorified PR campaign, I think there’s some potential for a real exchange of information. The fact that their first two events were so different is a good sign.

The opening of their doors for the creative community, they’ll allow programs and other works of art that seek the knowledge or history of the UN to understand the UN in new way. Their invitation to the creators and stars of Battlestar Gallactica was a humble admission that they do not have the answers, and that the people who use the arts two wrestle with difficult issues have knowledge from which they might benefit.

Yes, this two way street is very promising. But what is not so promising is the dirth of information about this initiative. The pdf I linked to above is really all I was able to find, aside from mentions of the program here and there in press releases about the Battlestar Galactica event.

There are a few video clips from the BSG event, and I’ve heard rumors that the whole event will be available at some point. In the mean time, here’s what the UN released from the event:

What do you think?


painting to write

I have spent most of the last year and a half being schizophrenic about whether I am an artist/designer type person, or a social scientist/researcher type person. Recent events have made it clear that I am not going to be able to choose. One event, in particular, has me reeling: Today I got the following email from the Chair of my department:

Since I am writing a letter for you I started to look for other signs of your previous life on the web. I knew a bit about your work before, but upon closer inspection, you have done some amazing & creative things.
Think you should think about design communication rather than social sciences as your framing.

This comes on the tail end of a course in Human/Computer Interaction Design, a course in which I tried my best *not* to be a designer, but I could not avoid it.

This has made me feel as though I am walking on the edge o a knife, and if I let my ‘inner-designer’ out, I will not be able to keep my ‘inner-researcher’ from disappearing.

I love the praise, and the attention she has bestowed upon me, but I also wonder if her advice is wise. I do not design human/computer interactions, I design human/human interactions. I am also wary of switching gears once again. I don’t want it to seem as though I follow any whim, but I do want to let my creativity define my work.

I recently discovered that I can write more eloquently when I first do a little painting or drawing; that I must prime myself to work by indulging in creative outlets. But this is an impossible habit to keep up in the face of deadlines.

I think one of the great challenges of my career will be the challenge to be a social scientist and a designer at the same time. I think the second great challenge I will have will be to make the dual nature of my work understood, and understandable to both groups of people.


academia has seeped into my subconscious

My dream last night:

I leave class to be told by my arch nemesis in the grad office that my defense is at 9pm that day.  I have just begun my research for my thesis, and am in no way prepared for a defense.  I was under the impression my defense would be at the end of next semester.

I run to the library and frantically print things out.  I run back to my desk, thinking it is about 7pm and I have 2 hours.  I get to my desk, and my clock says 9:35 pm.  I assume it is daylight savings, and that it is 8:35pm.  Shit. I have 25 minutes to prepare for the defense of a thesis I have not even begun to write.

My arch nemesis (who doesn’t even exist in real life) tells me that my adviser was looking for me.  I discover that my computer clock was indeed right, and it is 9:35pm.  I have missed my defense.

I wake up in a cold sweat.

art and geography

Here is the largest drawing in the world.  If you have any neices and nephews or kids in early grade school, you’ve seen a flat stanley or two.  This project seems like the ultimate flat stanley.  What, if anything, could grade school children learn from a project like this?

family and otherwise

I enjoy facebook. It has been a great way to stay in touch with some of my friends from far away, and also a way to get to know the new friends I make as I start this whole new life in Ithaca. I admit to superpoking daily and even to ‘facebook stalking’ people I want to know.

Two days ago my half-sister friended me on facebook. Ten years ago, when I moved to New York, I called her. I wanted to meet her now that we lived in the same state. She didn’t appear to have any interest. It seemed to me that she did not want to meet me because it hurt her that our father gave her up for adoption to her mother’s new husband. I could not blame her. That was the last and only time I spoke to her.

I know our grandmother kept in touch with her (somewhat forcefully), because told me when my sister (half-sister) married and had her first child. At some point my grandmother grew angry and cut her off.  Most likely because my half-sister didn’t spend as much time or energy on my grandmother as she did on the grandparents that raised her.  Bitterness was kind of an art form for this woman, so I didn’t really blame my half-sister.  So I didn’t hold anything against her, but I never planned on knowing her.  She had her life, she had a sister she was raised with, and I was sure she didn’t need me.

Then she friended me on facebook. In one sense, this is great, I now have a way to get to know my half-sister. In one sense it doesn’t matter because I’ve been an only child for 33 years, and am likely to always be an only child, even if ten sisters came out of the woodwork (there’s only the one so far as I know).

But in another sense, this makes me kind of sad.  Now, each time I update my status, I am acutely aware that my sister will only ever know me from these status updates, from who I superpoke, or from the silly pictures someone took of me at the bar last weekend.  This is true of most people I ‘friend’ or am ‘friended’ by on facebook.  It doesn’t so much matter to me when it is that dude I met at a conference last week.  But I think it does matter when it is my only living relative on my father’s side.  Technically, she’s not the only living relative on that side anymore, I gather from her pictures she has three sons.  That means I have three nephews.  I don’t know their names or ages, but I know that she has *hugged* her husband in the past 24 hours and the belongs to the group ‘six degrees of Jewish separation’.

I am puzzled by her ‘friendship’ after ten years of silence.  Our father died 14 years ago, and we’ve spoken once during my entire lifetime.  Why did she friend me?  Am I a notch on her friend belt?  Helping her get to a number of friends that is acceptable?  Or does she really want to know me now?  If she does want to know me, is she pouring over my page?  Does she know that my friend Lizzie and I play scrabulous constantly, or that my friend Claudia *did a bodyshot* with me yesterday?  Do the cryptic wall posts mean anything to her?  I supposed I have to ask myself if anything on her page means anything to me.  I’m not sure.  I don’t know what it means that she joins alum groups for camps she went to in middle school, nor do I know what it means that she’s visited 102 cities in 6 countries.

I am left wondering if by accepting her ‘friendship’ I’ve started a relationship with her, or I’ve just added an acquaintance who will know slightly more about my life than the woman who sells me my lunch every day.  Ultimately, while I believe that facebook can enrich or maintain a relationship, I don’t believe it can start one.