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Friday 18 November 2016

A manifesto and a spark - My recap of 'Creating a research culture in the workplace'

Chris Powis, Head of Library and Learning Services at Northampton University, came to Cambridge to deliver a session about the research culture that seems to be thriving in his workplace, providing an interesting case study and much food for thought for those of us working and researching in Cambridge libraries. His most powerful thesis to my mind was this: the reason librarians should do research is that it's one of the activities of universities. We are a service, yes, but we are also part of the academic fabric and as such we have a responsibility to take part in teaching and research. I have seen the difference it makes working with academics who think of us as colleagues in research, both to the quality of support we can give them and the quality of insight they can give us. It's a mutually beneficial relationship I feel lucky to have in my role.

At Northampton research by librarians is supported and encouraged at all levels. Chris emphasised that enthusiastic staff alone do not make a research culture, nor can you create one by managerial mandate. A true research culture derives from a collaboration between top-down and bottom-up support for research (not from some farcical aquatic ceremony - sorry, I went a little Monty Python there...). Support for research is included in the vision and plan for the library and staff who are interested in doing research have opportunities for training and resources that allow them to run with their ideas. The library has its own research ethics board, adapted from that of the University, and they report on the impact of their research annually as well as promoting published work by their staff in monumental banners in the library. All of this is serving to expand the perceived role of librarians to include research, just as it had to be actively and forcibly expanded to include teaching.

One of the most interesting practical steps they took to promote and develop a community and culture of research has been to hold library conferences that showcase NU library staff research. There are no keynote speakers - no external speakers of any kind - and so no-one's work is held above anyone else's. Most importantly, the conference is opened by the Vice Chancellor and open to academics from the university to attend. Additionally, research is often done in collaboration with academic colleagues. This level of visibility, professionalism and interdisciplinary work is a remarkable tool for changing both the perception of librarians and the quality of the research produced.

At Cambridge we do a lot of things very well with regards to library research. Our autonomy allows some wonderful small-scale, agile research projects to flourish. However, I think that lack of communication between libraries can sometimes lead people to believe that they can't do research because there's something fundamentally different about the libraries that do it, or that what they're doing already isn't research when in fact it is. I think it's worth tackling the barriers to a research culture across the University and developing a community of practice that would help cultivate top-down and bottom-up support. The session sparked a tentative discussion and it is my (not-so-secret) hope that this will provide a spark to get more of us involved with creating a research culture that fosters a rise in the quality of research and wider dissemination of what we do across all Cambridge libraries.


Saturday 12 November 2016

Fires on the road

"Dissent is the highest form of Patriotism." - Thomas Jefferson 
“The likelihood that your acts of resistance cannot stop the injustice does not exempt you from acting in what you sincerely and reflectively hold to be the best interests of your community.” - Susan Sontag, At the Same Time: Essays and Speeches
As I write this I am listening to Leonard Cohen after an evening indulging in a little wallowing by watching videos that firmly justify my sadness and anger. I have read advice to take the time to mourn and be alone, the advice to comfort others and allow yourself to be comforted, the advice to roll up your sleeves and get involved, to speak up, to be silent. I've done a little of everything, vacillating in the directionless way of the bereaved.

I debated whether to write anything here about current events at all. After all, this is a quasi-professional blog and while I have never hidden my political leanings in my professional life, I've tended to be cagey about discussing politics openly in that context. I feel like that position has become unsupportable now. I feel the pressing need to become more of an activist. I need to speak up. The problem is that I have no idea what to say.

I could say something about the danger of echo chambers and need for media literacy. I could provide resources attempting to analyse what went wrong, how it happened, who is to blame. I could theorise about the best and worst case scenarios that could emerge over the next four years. I could talk about the role of libraries in supporting their communities during difficult times or the transformative power of reading in crisis situations. I could discuss any and all of these, but I think others have said it better and frankly I don't have the energy to analyse or prosthelytise right now.

I think what I need to do right now is be honest.

I'm terrified. I know that this fear was mirrored by those on the right when contemplating a Clinton presidency. I know that it's a symptom of the unhealthy divisiveness that has grown up in American and British politics, that Brexiters and Trump supporters find my political views as insupportable, as alien as I find theirs. It's a different set of values that has been thrown into sharp relief against my own by the polarising forces of journalism, social media, isolationism and confirmation bias. But right now I find it unhelpful to empathise, to agree with President Obama when he asserts that deep down we all want the same things, because from my point of view, here and now, I can't see how that's the case. Because what I want is for women to have equal rights, opportunities and treatment to men, for working class families to be able to afford to live without having to work multiple jobs so they can actually see their children and afford healthcare, for Muslim Americans to not feel demonised, for Mexican Americans to not feel outcast, for Black Americans to not feel criminalised, for LGBTQ+ youth to not be contemplating suicide as an alternative to facing the next four years of watching their few small, hard-won rights be stripped away. Because I am a pacifist and fear the bellicose instincts of the President-elect. Because every human has dignity and rights and I fear his ableism. Because I am pro-choice and a feminist and fear his misogyny. Because I believe that the most pressing issue facing the entire world is not "Obamacare" but the dangerously rapid warming of our planet due to human influence. Because I am an immigrant, a friend of immigrants, a supporter of immigration and I fear the growing nationalism around the globe that the President-elect has tapped into, emboldened and legitimised through his success. Because I am at heart a progressive and I fear his authoritarianism.

My mind keeps wandering back to a book I read last year called Stones from the River by Ursula Hegi. The main character is a young woman in Germany in the 30s and sees the world around her change, sees her neighbours and friends become complacent, then fearful, then complicit in atrocities that start to feel mundane. The xenophobia, paranoia and cruelty fostered by fascism became the new normal. I saw a tweet a few weeks ago that I wasn't able to find again to attribute it that said something along the lines of: If you could travel back in time the question is not whether you would kill Hitler. The question is, would you vote for him? With hindsight we forget that the figure we rightly deplore was democratically elected, that there is something appealing at particular moments in time about a strong leader who gives us a common enemy to blame for our problems and promises a solution. Now that we've voted for him (though I feel it's only right to point out that only about a quarter of registered voters actually did as half of them didn't vote at all), will we be complacent until it's too late? Will we cheer as lives are destroyed because we can sleep a little more soundly knowing that at least people who look like us have finally got what we deserve?

Like many others I know I'm desperate to find ways to help; protests I could join, petitions I could sign, acts of defiance I could perform. I will do all of this that I can but I think and hope the small daily acts matter just as much. Being kind, being there for people, listening, including people. I think this comes back to the Buddhist idea of "Right Livelihood"; doing the work that's in front of you to the best of your ability. That's all you can do. It feels small. It feels insignificant right now in the face of huge forces mobilised by hatred and greed. But, as Susan Sontag observed, that's no excuse to not do it.

Saturday 5 November 2016

23 Research Things - Thing 11

While I don't think I'd ever really use them to put out my own content online, I am an enthusiastic consumer of YouTube and podcast content, and it's not just weightlifting tutorials and funny cat videos either. I love learning from these platforms. For example, I credit fandom podcasts such as The Tolkien Professor and Witch Please for making me a more careful, critical reader of fiction. Through 99% Invisible I've learned a lot about design and the way humans interact with the world.

The podcast I'm choosing to highlight for Thing 11, however, is Hello PhD, a fortnightly podcast "for scientists and the people who love them". I mentioned it in my previous post as a great example of communicating research and, although it doesn't focus exclusively on specific research projects, it provides great insights into the structure and culture of postgraduate science education. It takes a refreshingly critical stance toward that structure and also talks about mental and physical wellbeing in postgraduate training, mentorship, productivity, alternative routes outside of academia etc. Throw in the weekly science etymology puzzle and I'm totally hooked! The hosts are great at communicating complex issues within academia and advocates for loving what you do as a researcher. The podcast has a slight biological science bias but don't let that discourage you - the information is useful for all researchers and the people that work with (and/or love) them!

Source: http://hellophd.com/page/9/
From YouTube there are too many good educational videos out there to be able to pick the best, from the now outrageously popular TED talks to SciShow, the Gates Notes, VoxCrash Course... the list goes on and on! I did need to pick one, though, so I thought I'd go in for some good old fashioned nepotism and share my friend Peter's YouTube channel, The Binary Tree.


Peter's great at explaining the theory behind computer science - something I admit I'm way more into than learning programming languages - in simple terms that appeal to my visual learning style. He's a great example of how accessible it is to share what you know with the world and get others excited about your area of interest.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

23 Research Things - Thing 10

I'll do my best to encapsulate my rambling and multifarious thoughts on communicating research into a single blog post. I suppose the people to whom it makes sense are already doing it, so I will do my best not to preach to the converted but instead address people who may not see the point in spending their valuable time translating their research into plain language.

Georgina and Ryan made some great points in their podcast on the topic, not least of which is that if you've devoted your time to researching something in great depth, hopefully it means you're quite excited about it. I recently asked one of my classes to chat to each other about their research topics and overheard one student ask another, "What are you geeking out on lately?" It's the same sort of language people use around a show they really love or a hobby they've gotten really into. I hope all of the researchers I work with feel that way about their work at least periodically.

To me, the "geeking out"- getting excited about an idea or a question or a problem and then pursuing it, finding it difficult to talk about anything else over dinner or out at the pub - is what it's all about. It's why I've always wanted to go into some field in education; to watch that spark ignite and help people take down the barriers to pursuing that shiny new piece of knowledge. The most influential people in my life have been educators, but first and foremost they've been great communicators who were able to share their enthusiasm, passion and curiosity. They're the Neil deGrasse Tysons and Bill Nyes of the world, but they're also the Katie Browns and Debbie Aldouses of the world. These are people who are passionate about knowledge and who are able to share that passion.

One of the chief advantages of the tools explored in previous Things is that they mean you don't have to be a brilliant public speaker or teach in a classroom to communicate your passion for your research. People like Katie Mack (AKA @astrokatie) have found the power of tools like Vine (RIP) and Twitter for sharing their research and have huge followings because they get people excited by and interested in what they're doing. The "Dance your PhD" Contest launched by Science shows how engaging, funny and accessible communicating research by video can be, while podcasts like Hello PhD provide a forum for those who prefer the spoken word.

The thing in common with all of these is that they've learned to make complex research topics accessible. The first step is letting go of the idea that your research is too complicated for other people to understand. Obviously they won't understand it at the level that you do, but I agree with Ryan that there is no concept or process that can't be explained relatively simply. I would also argue that in translating your work into a simpler, more easily communicable form, by coming up with your "elevator pitch", by trying to condense it into the length of a Tweet, or by explaining it in an animation, you change your perspective on your subject. You can actually learn more about your subject by simplifying it and communicating it.

When you communicate your research, you never know where the conversation will take you.