Beginnings and Endings

Just over five years ago, I posted the first post on this blog, beginning what I thought would be a process of recording the researching and writing of a book about the men of the Royal Army Medical Corps in the First World War. Just under two weeks ago, I submitted the completed manuscript to the publisher, on the final day the university was open this calendar year. It was a climax, a culmination. But it wasn’t an ending.

There are several reasons why I say this with some confidence, about both the book and this blog. As far at the book is concerned, there is still a great deal left to do – permissions to be sought, images to be sourced, indexes to be completed – and the manuscript itself is to be sent to yet another reader. And this blog has, in the past five years, wandered into all sorts of byways unrelated to the project it was set up to chronicle.  In spite of my neglect of it over the past few months as I’ve concentrated on finishing the manuscript, it remains an important outlet for me, and I will continue to use it to chronicle the ups and downs of academic life, my new research project, my eternal struggle to create an acceptable work/life and, inevitable, a range of thoughts and responses the commemoration and memory of the First World War in British culture.

Yet, while this has been a moment of transition rather than ending, there have been points of ending and new beginnings along the way. The direct funding for this project ended two years ago. In its place, I’ve started on new (related) research , as well as gaining two new job titles. Intellectually and personally life has interwoven, overlapped, bled into itself.

Which, particularly at this time of year, doesn’t stop me looking for tidy endings and new beginnings. Even as I am aware of the chaos of books all over the floor that awaits my return to the office, along with all the projects I’ve been putting off for the past three months, I am also hoping that having given myself permission not to work for two weeks over the holiday period will give me the energy to start if not anew in January, then at least afresh.  There is the blog post I’ve been meaning to write since the summer which, with space from other deadlines, I hope to finally complete; there is the pile of books I’ve been collecting, looking for the time and space to engage with them properly.

There will, I hope, be more, and more definite endings in the coming year, with the final completion of the book. There will also, I anticipate, be beginnings – of ideas, projects, collaborations – as well as the new beginning marked by moving to a new home in the spring. All have looking forward to the near future in ways that hasn’t been true for the past couple of years.

So, at this turning of the year, I wish you all successful endings and hopeful beginnings for the new year.

Happy new year, one and all.

 

What I do

Over the summer I wrote a piece sort of in response to the furore surround Andrew Adonis’s attack on higher education. I returned to it this morning, after this weekend’s renewed attacks in the wake of the National Audit Office’s report on the supposed ‘lack of value’ in the higher education ‘market’. Based on what I have read and heard, in the print media, on Twitter and on national radio, I am starting to wonder, however, if it is not so much that academics aren’t very good at explaining what it is they do, as that those who enjoy pontificating on the subject don’t want to listen. Radio 4’s Today programme, for instance, managed to interview one lecturer that I heard in the entire course of a 3-hour programme focussed on the subject (a second presented Thought for the Day). Sonia Sodha’s dismissive response to Peter Mandler on Twitter is sadly symptomatic of this attitude.

Anyway, I’m sure Lord Adonis, Ms Sodha, Jo Johnson, Jeremy Vine and the editors of the Today Programme are far to busy to read what I wrote, just as I am rather too busy to repeat myself in another blog, but here it is again for anyone who might be wondering why academics are quite so angry about the implication that they have enough time to properly teach two- rather than three-year degrees. Now, if you will forgive me, I have work to do today (numbers 1, 4, 8 and 9, if you are wondering).

armsandthemedicalman

This isn’t going to be a response to the recent Andrew Adonis discussions, at least not directly.  I’ve put in my direct tuppence ‘orth on Twitter already. It is, however, going to be a response to one of the more obscure byways that the discussion trickled into over the course of the day arising out of two comments. The first, from an academic, pointed out that academics really aren’t very good at communicating what it is we actually do. Listing all the jobs we have to do in a way that can give an impression of competitive business, yes; actually communicating to non-academics what our job entails, not so much. Which was reinforced by the second, from an anonymous Twitter user who, agreeing with Adonis’s argument about the laziness and unproductiveness of academics who don’t teach during the summer, stated that academics had never done a ‘real job’.

So the…

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