Guest Blog: Are you coming out to play?
I’m in the process of selling my house. I’ve done the
frantic facelifts required for the wide angled photographs, images that have
the tall order of turning a 1950s miner’s semi into a “modern family home with
quirks and character”. I’ve grabbed the wood glue to fix the banister my son
destroyed in one of his action figure inspired leaps. I’ve bought the scented
candles, the flowers, and the tablecloths. I’ve parcelled the kids off for the
viewings, praying that my dad doesn’t think 5 months is a suitable age to
introduce my youngest to chocolate. I’ve shown people around, talked up the odd
shaped garden, bragged about the great BBQ spot on the back, and I might have
accidentally mentioned where the old iron fireplace is buried in the garden.
They say selling a house is one of the most stressful things you can do and so
far I’ve found nothing that contradicts the adage. Most difficult is the way in
which, as the woman in the house, I am supposed to explain to strangers how
we’ve lived our life in the space and where it is less than perfect, justify or
apologise for it. In Harriet’s first blog
she talks about how ‘doing the laundry’ allows us to present ourselves as
“fully-functioning” adults. Let me tell you, showing people around your home
takes doing the laundry to a whole new level - it’s inviting people into the
very space where your laundry can be as dirty as it needs to be, and even
telling them about it!
There was a Friday afternoon where my house was
superficially spotless, kids tucked away in the shed (their grandfather’s
house, don’t worry) that I sat in Pot Poruri heaven waiting for the next
viewing to start. A little late turned into a no show and I was faced with a
choice – dutifully go and collect the children, or steal an hour to do
something fun. Reader, I obviously chose the second. I joined the Non
Traditional Research Methods Conference that I had been looking forward to for
nearly a month but had realised I would need to sacrifice due to the
aforementioned house selling. I topped up my tea, may have sent a white lie
about doing housework, and logged on. It was joyous, not least because I was
cheating on all my domestic duties. I’d gone out to play without parental
permission and like a naughty teenager, I thought, “to hell with it”.
The first session was about reflective drawing – awesome.
The second session was about collage as method – more awesome. I sat in the
corner of my very tidy, sickly smelling home, and indulged in 60 minutes of
creative thinking; doodling, drawing, noting key ideas, chatting with other
thinkers, it was the most fun I had had in a long time. I had been sad when the
viewer didn’t show up but I was gutted when I had to leave the event. It was
one of those moments when there is so much buzzing around your head that you
almost feel dizzy, your blood feels warmer, your smile feels brighter. If you
can’t relate to the feeling being described, treat yourself to a massive dose
of candy floss for the sugar rush – it might give you a greater insight than my
words.
When my husband came home and asked how my day had been my
quick reply was, “incredible!”. He mistook it for us receiving an offer on the
house and it took me a while to understand his vague expression as I rushed out
the words “glue stick”, “magazines”, “charcoal”, and “blog”. The afternoon for
me had been generative and inspiring, I couldn’t wait to get to play with some
of the thinking from the conference. Pause right there; pay attention to the
word choice of that last sentence.
I consciously chose the word “play” knowing there is a
danger that what would follow might be perceived as ‘less than’ or ‘immature’,
but I’m hoping I might win you over. As Harriet mentions in another of her blogs,
artography is considered a “border methodology” (Wright, 2023), with an idea
that creative works when employed as a methodological practice somehow straddle
a binary bridge; a step from the traditional into non-traditional, the serious
into non-serious, the arduous into fun. It’s the Cinderella thinking in the big
house of academia. Or is it?
Let’s grab hold of Hooks’ (2003) proclamation that we could suspend simplistic binaries and see research as being something other than drab. If we do, we might find that the processes that bring us joy are as robust as those that bring us dread. In a recent blog of my own (Shameless self promotion) I talk about the ways that to an outsider I might look bat poo crazy but internally there is so much happening in my thinking that I don’t have time to look up let alone care about what I look like. When did we get so attached to beating ourselves up for the sake of research? Research is often painted as painful but really, research is about curiosity and following a “I wonder if…” to find an answer. Stenhouse told us in 1981 that “Curiosity is as ever dangerous because it leads to intellectual innovation” (pg. 103) but in his musings about what counts as research he didn’t tell us we have to do it through gritted teeth. I often find myself labouring over what an academic text has told me, or sitting with a theory that I just don’t quite understand. Rather than putting myself through the cognitive torment, I make use of what is around me to help my thinking. It might be that I go for a walk, it might be that I get water colours out, it might be that I stand in front of my mirror and explain the trouble I’m having to my reflection through BSL. The reading is recognised as research, but I would argue, the walk, the painting, the signing all belong in the research domain too. The following image is of a collage that I made to think with the provocation for this blog and does as much for my thinking as any piece of written work does.
'Flights of Fancy' by Charlotte Marshall
So, who is coming out to play with me?
References
Hooks, B.
(2003). Teaching community: A pedagogy of hope (Vol. 36).
Psychology Press.
Lorde A,
(1981) "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's
house", in This Bridge Called My Back Eds C Moraga, G Anzaldua (Persephone
Press, Watertown, MA) pp 98-101
Stenhouse, L (1981)
What Counts as Research British Journal of Educational Studies 29 (2),
pp. 103–14,
Wright, L. C. (2023). Reintegration as Border Pedagogy: A Female Text. Qualitative Inquiry. https://doi.org/10.1177/10778004231176087
