Posted on by ijeomaopara

Like Sand Through the Hourglass And Other Amusing Realisations

Here we are, six months later…what has changed?  

Well… life has been a rollercoaster OF NOTE.  

The past six months have felt like three years almost, as I’ve been evolving rapidly without so much of a chance to recalibrate authentically. Academically, things have been progressing in an interesting way; I presented at two international conferences in June, and have had some of the most amazing networking opportunities within my field. The first conference I attended was the London School of Economics Media Futures Conference, where I presented parts of a working chapter. The second one was hosted by the Stellenbosch Business School on Gender, Work and Organisation, and I co-facilitated a workshop on feminist activism in the academy with my supervisor Professor Amanda Gouws. On paper, it feels like I’m doing the right things to make sure my academic career is on track, but I can’t help but feel like there is some level of stagnancy that’s preventing me from pushing myself like I normally do.  

My personal life has also been topsy-turvy, and I have been going through the motions of true grief for the first time in the 28 years of my life. The phrase ‘nothing lasts forever’ has taken on a completely different meaning, as losing people is something that is always hard to deal with. It’s also part of the reason why my vlog this month has taken on a somewhat abstract format, where I focused more on showing what the days in my life have looked like recently, as opposed to a linear, cookie-cutter ‘day in my life’.

For some reason, it felt disingenuous to set up my camera, press record and pretend to wake up and put together a routine that seemed void of flaws. My days really have felt like a case of jumping across different universes, almost like that movie Everything Everywhere All at Once (2022).To be completely honest, my ethics application has been a source of frustration since the beginning of the year, impacting my creative flow. While I understand the importance of due process and acknowledge the validity of concerns, it’s led me to question the worthiness of pursuing my research in the first place. Which really sucks.  

However, I’ve taken steps to address this. I’ve recently gained a mentor from the African Feminist Initiative at UPenn, Professor Tarez Graban. Our first session together was incredibly affirming, reigniting my belief in the value of my work. Naturally, I have the support of my supervisor and co-supervisor. Still, without a clear sense of direction in my work, it becomes difficult to communicate expectations if I am in a period of struggling with where to draw strength from. At the end of the day, this PhD will be completed. Every day that brings me closer to the finish line may not look the same, but it’s part of the bigger picture. And we’re never alone in this journey, always supported by those around us. 

Almost there.  

Posted on by johanne_marais · 2 Comments

Academics as Architects: How to Build a House

I used to dream of becoming an architect. Quite literally. I would conceive of geometric buildings which defied all natural laws and then wake up to sketch my creations. My earliest memories of drawing hotels and other-worldly homesteads is around the time when I was eight years old. I liked structure; shadows; lines; shapes. I think more than anything, I liked playing with the concept of home.

I moved around plenty in my early youth. Sometimes this left me longing for the spatial stability of that “This is the home I grew up in” narrative which so many of my friends told. Now, I feel most comfortable in the newness of exploration, and houses unbuilt, and places where I haven’t lived yet. This comes with realizing that the only home we ever truly have is our body: the physical form that takes up space, moves us through the structures which we inhabit, and into the professional or interpersonal positions we occupy.

Jun’ichirō Tanizaki writes this short but expansive stanza in his essay called “In Praise of Shadows”:

“In making for ourselves a place to live, we first spread a parasol to throw a shadow on the earth, and in the pale light of the shadow we put together a house.”

The parasol here is what I see as casting a foundation. Postgraduates may do this alone, or maybe the groundwork was laid with a supportive family, or by a privileged secondary education. The pale light of the shadow is the determination to see a project through.

Many tertiary students attend a university far from home. The postgraduate experience has reminded me how we can quickly spend more time in the university than we do in our houses. As a postgraduate, you finish a degree in at least two years but sometimes up to five (or seven if you stick around for a postdoc). There’s an intimacy and proximity in pursuing postgraduate studies together, not the least because we spend a wealth of time in the same space.

Ultimately, we are all building one another’s houses. Stay with me on this:

Imagine for a moment your life as a dream; a plan… You are the architect. You have an idea of which stairs need to lead where, the type of windows you want to gaze through at the world, and which areas in your life you’d prefer to keep private. As I have engaged in my higher degrees, I encounter peers, professors, groundskeepers, cleaning staff, administrators or undergraduate students who actively build me up or (hopefully, unintentionally) break bits of my house down. This allows me to understand myself better through my strengths and points of weakness; areas where I need to put in work; humility to ask for help when I need it.

Research groups are to the postgraduate experience what architecture firms are to the industry of construction. They have a particular niche; a style of design they like to follow; shared interest in brainstorming new projects. Still, opportunities to collaborate across research groups or even across research institutions can build the strongest houses.

Over time, just as in construction, each academic scholar gathers the knowledge of how to build from the ground up. Their expertise is shaped with experience and through making mistakes. So, my unsolicited but honest advice for anyone laying the foundation for a postgraduate degree or path in academia is this:

  • Know enough about the type of house you want to build that your vision is clear.
  • Work with people who have skills where you have space to learn.
  • Accommodate using new materials or adjusting your planned budget and timeline.
  • Remember that things will likely go wrong, and you may need to return to the drawing board.
  • Keep building your house, and one another’s, one brick at a time.

Somewhere between a childhood dream and placement on the waiting list for the Bachelor of Architectural Studies, a natural human process occurred: I changed my mind. I had experienced compromised health for some years, and my problem-solving side nudged me into a pursuit of understanding the human body. I’m still fascinated by structure; shadows; lines; shapes. Biology is the architecture of deities, and even architects look to the natural world for sustainable solutions. In following my own advice, I embrace both the biologist and the architect within – ever ready to return to the drawing board again.