Archive for May, 2007

The eight types of graduate student

Not my words but an article from The Guardian that I thought was pretty good. Like the author I think I am also probably no 6 with a touch of 2.

Why are we postgrads here? Well, for lots of reasons, says Patrick Tomlin

Tuesday May 15, 2007
The Guardian

When I started this column, I promised myself I wouldn’t let it become a
monthly whinge about how poor I am. Partly because that would be as boring
as if I stood in your garden and recited excerpts from my thesis, and partly
because, as graduate students go, I’m not too badly off.

But I have had to make financial sacrifices to pursue my studies. Given that
everyone else has presumably had to do so too, I initially figured that we
must all be there because of a pure thirst for knowledge. I’ve since
realised, however, that the impulses that draw someone to academic study
beyond graduation are a lot more varied than that.

While I’ve only been at it a short while, I am sufficiently aware of the
unwritten columnists’ code to know one is expected to make wild
generalisations, shun nuance, and present categories in a list format. So,
without further ado, I present the eight types of graduate student:

1. The Wannabe Undergraduate

They had such fun as undergraduates that they cannot bear it to end. They
prop up the bar, talking to undergrads about their thesis, rather than
actually writing it. They judge success by notches on the bedpost and
hangovers accrued instead of marks, grades and the intellectual respect of
their peers.

2. The Student Who Tried Employment

Some postgraduates have been out into the real world and had a real job,
with a desk and a computer and a pay cheque and a lunch break and a pension
and appraisals and meetings and everything. And, for whatever reason, they
have found it wanting.

3. The Couldn’t-Survive-Anywhere-but-at-University

The group most likely to be cultivating eccentricities – keeping a mouse in
their pocket or wearing socks with Marxist slogans sewn into them – while
still too young to shave.

4. The CV-Filler

Their primary focus is not what they study, but what it will look like on
their CV. They believe this qualification will give them “that extra edge”.
Most likely to end up as accountants or lawyers, never employing the
knowledge gained.

5. The Prestigious Scholarship Recipient

Rather than worrying about what the subject they study will look like on
their CV, their primary focus is who is paying for it. In a reversal of the
usual relationship between funding and studying, in which the former is a
means to the latter, the funding is regarded as an end in itself and the
studying something that has to be endured to be able to call themselves a
[insert name of dead white man] scholar for the rest of their lives.

6. The One Who Just Needs Answers

They really are motivated purely by the desire to find answers about their
specific area of interest.

7. The Eternal Student

They are not bothered whether their academic career shows linear progress,
they’re just collecting qualifications and trying to get every letter of the
alphabet after their name.

8. The Polymath

These geniuses could have studied anything, anywhere. They will probably go
on to great things across several disciplines, and already understand your
thesis better than you do. An unfortunate subset are also charming, witty
and good-looking, and therefore hated by everyone.

And which am I? I’d like to think No 6, but I suspect there’s more than a
touch of No 2 about me, too.

· Patrick Tomlin is researching a doctorate in political theory at Oxford
University. His column appears monthly

Hell is where good people are sent to mark 1st year essays.

I would like to say for the record that ‘marking sucks’. Official.

I’m faced with a pile of first year reading logs, plus assignments for two other modules I teach on, and am slowly loosing the will to live. There is a strange lump forming on the middle finger of my right hand through clutching a pencil for 16 hours, and my eye-balls feel oddly sore.

Marking is the short straw when you’re a lecturer on an hourly rate. It takes time to mark carefully and give useful feedback and I, like so many other research students do not get paid for this or the preparation for classes. Therefore the deceptively decent rate of pay when divided by actual time invested in the role, works out at roughly £1.23 per hour at a rough guess.

Grrrrrrrr!

Stop. Transfer time!


Transfer time is a bit like ‘Hammer Time’ – remember he of the peculiar pyjama pants, and nifty running man dance moves?

As is usual with per her ders I am registered as an MPhil. I have been working on the research for 2 years now so it is time to face a panel and explain why I am making an original contribution to knowledge and should be allowed to progress to a PhD and write the damn thing up. No pressure then.

I have been working on the report for a few weeks in between teaching 1st and 2nd year undergrads and was hoping to have the whole process over and done with, but alas I have to wait for the panel to schedule a date that all necessary peoples can be in the same room at once – hopefully some time this decade. There is also a bit of political argybargy at my place about who should attend. The SuperDupers are very keen to get the report perfecto and dazzle the panel which has been frustrating as advice is somewhat organic, there are no consistent guidelines on what the report should contain and SuperDupers are occasionally given to a nebula communication method during counsel (though advice given is usually superduper once harnessed and processed by me), plus being dyslexic my grammar sucks when I am tired and I seemed to have developed a new car-crash approach to syntax.

I am beginning to feel bogged down with the waiting and where as a few weeks ago I was uber confident that I would enjoy the experience, I am getting more anxious the longer the wait goes on. I would like to write the thing and move on with my life at some point y’know? Don’t get me wrong, I am not one of those research students who has grown to hate their project and feels trapped by the burden of finishing. Not in any way shape or form, in fact I love and believe in my little idea (cue torch ballad), but I do not want to work on it for the rest of my days and I am feeling as if this might be the case. Therefore I am thinking of telling them all to hurry up, come around to mine for a BBQ instead and I will present a copy of the report and a performance to make clear why I should be allowed forward, because….

Can’t touch this
Can’t touch this
Can’t touch this
Break it down!
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)
Stop! Transfer time!

Shaking my arse with ‘The Others’

Last week I joined the long suffering b.f, and some of his work colleagues on a music industry jolly to the launch of Groove Armada’s new album.

I have been to this type of event before (actually a younger, pre-PhD version of myself used to organise this type of thing, though sadly never for anyone as cool as Groove Armada) Nevertheless, the usual set up with a showcase is that it is quite a small audience of influential industry bods, music journalists and radio types.

Imagine my horror when we turned up to the venue to find the world and his wife and someone she knows who knows so and so, queuing around the block. Obviously at this point I was not taking into consideration that ‘I’, who had no intention of submitting a review to MixMag/ TimeOut / Guardian etc. had managed to blag an invite by association and what was OK for me should therefore be acceptable for the other 200 or so hangers on. But at the time I sniffed at the prospect of queuing up to a be constantly knocked and pushed past once inside, whilst clutching a plastic glass of cheap booze.

The door policy was utter chaos, with the PR co giving out different coloured wristbands that allowed access to various free bars. I never really managed to work this out, but it appears they were actually grading their guests, which doesn’t strike me as the best policy for bringing in new business. Blue – you’re really important, Pink – we like you but don’t give a monkeys if you have to stand at the back where you can’t really see the band and you can only drink sugar infused bright blue alcoholpops, and finally yellow -you have wronged us and must therefore stand at a bar 5 people deep waiting to be severed by a surly and overwhelmed barman only to be told the bar has run out of drinks and you have missed the first 4 songs. This resulted in a lot of “Do you know who I am?” and ringing of mobile phones, furtive calls on the mobiles, air kissing and saying hello to people they clearly had never met to demonstrate position within the hierarchy. Imagine this at an academic conference dinner –you’re a professor so you get three courses and a glass of wine, you’ve recently published a paper in a well known journal so you get after dinner mints and you – well you’re just a research student so you may sit at the table and make conversation but do not under any circumstances touch the table setting.

As a friend of one of the performers long suffering b.f was given a special wristband whilst the rest of us were actually deemed the lowest of the low and left bare wristed – the shame! However before the band had even arrived on stage the free bars to which he had access had run of drinks completely, so I stupidly volunteered to make a foray into a crowd of others to begin a long and arduous journey to the paying bar.
35 minutes later I was finally served 4 bottles of beer, but only after having my oxygen supply cut off and nearly suffocating in the throng /passing out from dehydration and being elbowed out the way by a bloke who also told me to F*** off when I pointed out that he had pushed in-front of me and stepped on my foot. It then took another 10 mins to make my way through the crowd and find my party. What joy – what fun.

Thankfully Groove Armada was absolutely brilliant, and can really pull it off as a live act. (They play all their own instruments you know!). I really enjoyed their set even though they only played a few tracks off the new album – the classics like super styling and my friend were fantastic and made it all worth it –particularly the live trombone and vocalists. I even managed to shake my arse a tiny bit despite the ridiculous lack of room within the multitude for major arse shaking.