So here’s the first of my Research Encounters – with Dr Simon Potter, Reader in Modern History. Simon was game enough to be the guinea pig for this endeavour, telling me about his journey from straight-forward archival research to thought-provoking questions about the role of the media.
It's hard to imagine a time when news wasn’t instantly at our fingertips – from the internet to Twitter on our smart phones it’s possible to get news from around the world as soon as it breaks. But this was not always the case – in the 19th and early 20th century news could sometimes take weeks to flow from one part of the British Empire back to the UK. Then, as now, news was not always unbiased – with national institutions such as the BBC using broadcasting as a propaganda tool. So what pictures did the media create for those living at the time who may have been part of the Empire but never saw any of it? How did it connect places separated by thousands of miles? And what role did these transnational organisations and media corporations have on how people saw the world around them? These are questions that are rooted in history but which certainly are of relevance today.
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
Knowing our Bristol
Another post from the Know your Bristol blog - looking back on the events last year, the value of non-academic knowledge and how it will be used to shape future decisions in Bristol.
How well do you know your neighbourhood? This has been the question at the heart of Know your Bristol as it aims to celebrate memories of Bristol as seen through the eyes of the community. In the past year, through seven road shows at locations throughout Bristol, we have managed to collect around 40 oral histories and capture over 750 digitised images – with photographs ranging from family outings to special occasions to snapshots of everyday life. The stories have been poignant, with tales of loved ones no longer with us. They have been entertaining – a highlight of mine being the tale of a zookeeper being knocked over by a dead giraffe (it’s surprisingly hard to conduct an interview when you’re trying not to burst into laughter). But above all, they have been an insight into a part of Bristol that hasn’t been documented before, and in some cases a Bristol that no longer exists.
It’s clear from this project that Bristolians, past and present, have a wealth of information about this city and we have attempted to capture just some of this in a booklet summarising the series of events so far. Know your Bristol has shown the value of non-academic knowledge in thinking about our lives and our heritage. And for some of us who are new(ish) to Bristol it’s been a fabulous way to get out of the ivory tower and explore parts of the city we may have never come across otherwise.
But the project also has a longer legacy than that. The images and oral histories are steadily being uploaded onto the Know Your Place site, run by our partners at Bristol City Council. This site not only provides a rich and detailed history of Bristol through the ages but the material is also being used to inform decisions about planning at a neighbourhood scale and in schools as part of a locally relevant learning resource. So people’s memories aren’t trapped in their heads, or even hidden away in a dusty archive – they are readily available for people to use as they wish. And this is not the end for Know your Bristol. Thanks to additional support from the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the Heritage Lottery Fund we will be working with more community groups to explore areas we didn’t manage to reach last year. So watch this space for more stories from our events and let’s see what more we can find out about this diverse and fascinating city we live in.
How well do you know your neighbourhood? This has been the question at the heart of Know your Bristol as it aims to celebrate memories of Bristol as seen through the eyes of the community. In the past year, through seven road shows at locations throughout Bristol, we have managed to collect around 40 oral histories and capture over 750 digitised images – with photographs ranging from family outings to special occasions to snapshots of everyday life. The stories have been poignant, with tales of loved ones no longer with us. They have been entertaining – a highlight of mine being the tale of a zookeeper being knocked over by a dead giraffe (it’s surprisingly hard to conduct an interview when you’re trying not to burst into laughter). But above all, they have been an insight into a part of Bristol that hasn’t been documented before, and in some cases a Bristol that no longer exists.
But the project also has a longer legacy than that. The images and oral histories are steadily being uploaded onto the Know Your Place site, run by our partners at Bristol City Council. This site not only provides a rich and detailed history of Bristol through the ages but the material is also being used to inform decisions about planning at a neighbourhood scale and in schools as part of a locally relevant learning resource. So people’s memories aren’t trapped in their heads, or even hidden away in a dusty archive – they are readily available for people to use as they wish. And this is not the end for Know your Bristol. Thanks to additional support from the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the Heritage Lottery Fund we will be working with more community groups to explore areas we didn’t manage to reach last year. So watch this space for more stories from our events and let’s see what more we can find out about this diverse and fascinating city we live in.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Encountering research (and researchers)
I’m in the enviable position of spending a large part of my time interacting and working with researchers from across the entire University. As such, I get to hear about just some of the fascinating research that takes place here, from areas where I have a passing knowledge to questions and issues I had never even thought about. It seems a shame to keep all these remarkable stories in my head. In addition, I have been known to say that I’ve never come across a researcher who hasn’t been able to explain their work to a lay audience (OK, admittedly it’s easier for some, but given time and a few handy tools I still believe this is the case). But it’s a bit glib for me to state this and not rise to the challenge of whether I can explain other people’s research.
So I’ve decided to combine the two and keep track of my encounters with researchers – when I meet a University of Bristol researcher as part of my work I’ll try and get them to explain their work to me. I’ll then write a brief snapshot of what I think their research is about* and post it here, with the hope that others get to see just what amazing and unexpected things people work on at the University of Bristol.
* with the caveat that it’s my interpretation of their work so any errors or inaccuracies are mine.
So I’ve decided to combine the two and keep track of my encounters with researchers – when I meet a University of Bristol researcher as part of my work I’ll try and get them to explain their work to me. I’ll then write a brief snapshot of what I think their research is about* and post it here, with the hope that others get to see just what amazing and unexpected things people work on at the University of Bristol.
* with the caveat that it’s my interpretation of their work so any errors or inaccuracies are mine.
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
Why the REF is like writing a novel
Another post from the Centre for Public Engagement blog.
Last week I went to a workshop that the NCCPE was running on developing impact case studies for the REF. The REF is, unsurprisingly, on the minds of a lot of people within the University at the moment so it was a good time to get some tips on writing a good impact case study.
The first revelation of the day was that we weren't going to focus on the evidence required for a case study. So far, the majority of my thinking around the REF has concentrated on coming up with ways of developing evidence of reach and significance; so I was expecting the workshop to include techniques and methodologies for producing this evidence. However, apart from a mention that the REF panel will appreciate the challenge of gathering evidence retrospectively, we left that aspect of the case studies alone.
In the REF pilot, the highest scoring case studies were those which had a coherent narrative. So instead of thinking about evidence, we found ourselves looking at the narrative arc and how the format of the case studies could be used to fit the progression of a story. This is not to say that a good case study should be a work of fiction - the quality of the writing is always going to be less important than the story it tells. But like all good novels, you need a narrative that hooks the reader and keeps them involved. At the heart of this is the research itself, which should be thought of as the main character in the story. If you don’t engage with the main character it can be quite hard to maintain your interest in the novel, as I have found on many occasions (since this is my personal version of the post, I can digress - see below*). Once this is done, there is only the not so small task of describing the impact, both in summary and in more detail, and providing the evidence for the research and impacts. And all of this in a very limited word count – this is definitely no War and Peace.
Bearing all of this in mind, there are still challenges to face with writing impact case studies – not least the difficulty of attributing impact and disentangling it from all the other factors that might have affected the outcomes. One helpful suggestion from the audience was to use language that focused on the contribution that the research and impact had, rather than making over-ambitious claims about impact in a vacuum. And of course there is still work to do in writing and honing the impact case studies at the University. But hopefully we now have some more techniques to help us with making the most of the impressive impact that research here has had, whether it’s on the economy, culture, policy or society.
* There are many instances where I don't agree with or sympathise with the main character but total incomprehension is much harder to deal with. A good example of this is Don Quixote, one of the only books I have failed to finish. I just cannot work out if he is crazy or idealistic or why he even does half of the things he does - his character is unfathomable (and why would anyone walk around with a bathtub on their head?). However I've been told by a friend that I might just have a poor translation, so perhaps I'll give Don Quixote another go some day.
Last week I went to a workshop that the NCCPE was running on developing impact case studies for the REF. The REF is, unsurprisingly, on the minds of a lot of people within the University at the moment so it was a good time to get some tips on writing a good impact case study.
The first revelation of the day was that we weren't going to focus on the evidence required for a case study. So far, the majority of my thinking around the REF has concentrated on coming up with ways of developing evidence of reach and significance; so I was expecting the workshop to include techniques and methodologies for producing this evidence. However, apart from a mention that the REF panel will appreciate the challenge of gathering evidence retrospectively, we left that aspect of the case studies alone.
In the REF pilot, the highest scoring case studies were those which had a coherent narrative. So instead of thinking about evidence, we found ourselves looking at the narrative arc and how the format of the case studies could be used to fit the progression of a story. This is not to say that a good case study should be a work of fiction - the quality of the writing is always going to be less important than the story it tells. But like all good novels, you need a narrative that hooks the reader and keeps them involved. At the heart of this is the research itself, which should be thought of as the main character in the story. If you don’t engage with the main character it can be quite hard to maintain your interest in the novel, as I have found on many occasions (since this is my personal version of the post, I can digress - see below*). Once this is done, there is only the not so small task of describing the impact, both in summary and in more detail, and providing the evidence for the research and impacts. And all of this in a very limited word count – this is definitely no War and Peace.
Bearing all of this in mind, there are still challenges to face with writing impact case studies – not least the difficulty of attributing impact and disentangling it from all the other factors that might have affected the outcomes. One helpful suggestion from the audience was to use language that focused on the contribution that the research and impact had, rather than making over-ambitious claims about impact in a vacuum. And of course there is still work to do in writing and honing the impact case studies at the University. But hopefully we now have some more techniques to help us with making the most of the impressive impact that research here has had, whether it’s on the economy, culture, policy or society.
* There are many instances where I don't agree with or sympathise with the main character but total incomprehension is much harder to deal with. A good example of this is Don Quixote, one of the only books I have failed to finish. I just cannot work out if he is crazy or idealistic or why he even does half of the things he does - his character is unfathomable (and why would anyone walk around with a bathtub on their head?). However I've been told by a friend that I might just have a poor translation, so perhaps I'll give Don Quixote another go some day.
Wednesday, 22 August 2012
The value of memory
This is the last of my posts (at the moment) for the CPE blog. I wrote this following the pilot event in our Know your Bristol series which I have been the project manager for. The project has given me an insight into Bristol and the lives of its inhabitants, not to mention all the wonderful images and stories that have been captured. These are currently being developed into a booklet which will be launched at the final celebratory event in December.
“But I really don’t know why you’d be interested in my memories” said an elderly gentleman to me at Hillfields library the other week. I was there for the pilot of Know your Bristol – a series of events organised by the University about sharing and capturing the heritage of Bristol, as seen through the eyes of its inhabitants.
In public engagement, the perception used to be that researchers are the experts, keen to impart knowledge and understanding of their work. But in recent years this has evolved into a more nuanced argument: researchers may well be the experts in their field but members of the public have opinions, values, and lay and professional knowledge that can contribute to research. From the plumber who gives the biologist an insight into networks to the family photos that give a greater understanding of a period in history – these examples are all around us now. However, one of the challenges we face is to convince people, from funders and researchers to the public themselves, that these conversations can be of value. Events such as Know your Bristol give us an opportunity to get out of the office (or the laboratory) and experience first-hand what we can learn from the public.
So to return to my elderly gentleman – what was the value of his knowledge? Well, it turns out that the ‘official’ record of how the Hillfields estate was constructed isn’t entirely correct. Apparently there’s a mistake about which houses were constructed first and he should know – he moved in to one of them! It’s not a massive change but now, at least, the historical records of Bristol are a tiny bit more accurate. All this from one conversation at a library; let’s see what we can uncover from the next events.
“But I really don’t know why you’d be interested in my memories” said an elderly gentleman to me at Hillfields library the other week. I was there for the pilot of Know your Bristol – a series of events organised by the University about sharing and capturing the heritage of Bristol, as seen through the eyes of its inhabitants.
So to return to my elderly gentleman – what was the value of his knowledge? Well, it turns out that the ‘official’ record of how the Hillfields estate was constructed isn’t entirely correct. Apparently there’s a mistake about which houses were constructed first and he should know – he moved in to one of them! It’s not a massive change but now, at least, the historical records of Bristol are a tiny bit more accurate. All this from one conversation at a library; let’s see what we can uncover from the next events.
Thursday, 9 August 2012
Not really a book review
Daphne du Maurier’s novels exude magic, and I don’t mean in a Harry Potter kind of way. There is something slightly otherworldly and mysterious about her stories, largely because of the settings. Several of her novels are based in Cornwall, where she lived most of her life, and the ethereal but rugged landscape seems to permeate through the text. My Cousin Rachel, which I have just finished reading, is no exception. From the sun-drenched villa outside of Florence where time seems to stand still, to the dreamlike but surprisingly domestic Cornish estate, the scenery sweeps the reader away in a flood of images and sets the tone for the story.
It’s difficult not to see in Rachel the shadow of du Maurier’s most famous protagonist – Rebecca de Winter. Rachel could easily be dismissed as another femme fatale – manipulating men (in this case the hapless and naïve Philip Ashley) into doing her bidding, pretending she is in love them with them while secretly despising them all. But whereas the plot of Rebecca is designed to slowly uncover the true nature of her character, no such conclusion is possible in My Cousin Rachel. In fact, if you are someone who likes stories to finish unambiguously and tie up all loose ends, this is not the novel for you. Just when you think Rachel’s motivations are about to be uncovered, the final twist in the tale leaves you wondering, just as Philip does, who Rachel really was.
Rebecca has been one of my favourite novels since I first read it years ago, and is one of several books that I will happily re-read again and again with no loss of enjoyment. I even spent ages looking for a second hand copy because, at the time, the paperback version made it look like a Mills and Boon romance! So it was with a little trepidation that I embarked on My Cousin Rachel – no one likes having their illusions shattered. Thankfully the story is just as entrancing and Rachel is as fascinating as, and even more complex than, her counterpart. Just when you think you have her figured out she slips through your fingers like smoke. Like all the characters in the story, I think I am a little bewitched by the elusive Rachel. I may have to go searching through the second hand bookshops to find a copy to match the version of Rebecca on my shelves.
It’s difficult not to see in Rachel the shadow of du Maurier’s most famous protagonist – Rebecca de Winter. Rachel could easily be dismissed as another femme fatale – manipulating men (in this case the hapless and naïve Philip Ashley) into doing her bidding, pretending she is in love them with them while secretly despising them all. But whereas the plot of Rebecca is designed to slowly uncover the true nature of her character, no such conclusion is possible in My Cousin Rachel. In fact, if you are someone who likes stories to finish unambiguously and tie up all loose ends, this is not the novel for you. Just when you think Rachel’s motivations are about to be uncovered, the final twist in the tale leaves you wondering, just as Philip does, who Rachel really was.
Rebecca has been one of my favourite novels since I first read it years ago, and is one of several books that I will happily re-read again and again with no loss of enjoyment. I even spent ages looking for a second hand copy because, at the time, the paperback version made it look like a Mills and Boon romance! So it was with a little trepidation that I embarked on My Cousin Rachel – no one likes having their illusions shattered. Thankfully the story is just as entrancing and Rachel is as fascinating as, and even more complex than, her counterpart. Just when you think you have her figured out she slips through your fingers like smoke. Like all the characters in the story, I think I am a little bewitched by the elusive Rachel. I may have to go searching through the second hand bookshops to find a copy to match the version of Rebecca on my shelves.
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Debating a mayor for Bristol
This was a post I wrote for the Centre for Public Engagement blog about the lively debate we held in February 2012 on the referendum for a mayor in Bristol. In May, Bristol was the only city that voted to have a mayor; elections for the post have yet to be held so there will be further discussion of the issues, especially as part of the University's Thinking Futures festival in November.
There was a buzz about the Council House on Wednesday night – so much so that one person (a local Councillor, I presume) expressed a wish that Council meetings could be so popular. But this time people were gathering to debate one particular issue: should Bristol have an elected mayor? In a couple of months Bristolians will be asked this question in a referendum (albeit in a convoluted way that was the source of much amusement, and possibly bemusement, on the night). However, there has been limited discussion of what this would entail outside of the political sphere so our aim in organising this public event was to open up the discussion to the community.
Professor Alex Marsh started the event with a brief history of mayors in Bristol and how this current trend towards elected mayors fits with the Government’s localism agenda – see Alex’s blog for his thoughts on the evening. Then the four panellists – two for the motion and two against – were allowed a few minutes to briefly outline their positions. The ‘For’ panellists, Mark Weston and George Ferguson, argued that at present the leader of the Council (the nearest thing we have to a mayor) is chosen by 70 Council members – leaving the remaining 316,930 (or so) citizens of Bristol with no say in the matter. An elected mayor would be chosen by Bristol and would act as a champion for Bristol. The ‘Against’ panellists, Barbara Janke and Deborah Hallett, countered that a mayor would not be a panacea for all the problems in Bristol and the city-centric focus would restrict Bristol as an economic and strategic powerhouse.
However, things really started getting exciting when the discussion opened up to the floor. Insightful questions were raised about the lack of information on the mayor’s role and mandate, how the system would work and how the electorate were meant to reach any kind of decision without these basic facts. Even the heckling added something to the evening, with an impassioned plea from an audience member to resist the fear of change. And to top it off the interactive voting system, which gave us sleepless nights beforehand, worked perfectly and tracked the audience’s shifting views. At the end of the night, the ‘Yes’ vote was higher than the ‘No’ (47% to 36%) but the percentage of ‘No’ votes had increased significantly.
Our aim in setting up this debate was not to sway people in any direction or to endorse any political (or party political) view. So, for me, the most interesting statistic was that 83% of attendees felt that the debate was useful in helping them shape their opinions on whether we should have an elected mayor or not. What the result is going to be on the 3rd May is still anyone’s guess. But I’d like to believe that people left with a feeling that they were able to contribute their thoughts and views on what Bristolians want for our city. And let’s hope this discussion continues all the way to the polling booth.
There was a buzz about the Council House on Wednesday night – so much so that one person (a local Councillor, I presume) expressed a wish that Council meetings could be so popular. But this time people were gathering to debate one particular issue: should Bristol have an elected mayor? In a couple of months Bristolians will be asked this question in a referendum (albeit in a convoluted way that was the source of much amusement, and possibly bemusement, on the night). However, there has been limited discussion of what this would entail outside of the political sphere so our aim in organising this public event was to open up the discussion to the community.
Professor Alex Marsh started the event with a brief history of mayors in Bristol and how this current trend towards elected mayors fits with the Government’s localism agenda – see Alex’s blog for his thoughts on the evening. Then the four panellists – two for the motion and two against – were allowed a few minutes to briefly outline their positions. The ‘For’ panellists, Mark Weston and George Ferguson, argued that at present the leader of the Council (the nearest thing we have to a mayor) is chosen by 70 Council members – leaving the remaining 316,930 (or so) citizens of Bristol with no say in the matter. An elected mayor would be chosen by Bristol and would act as a champion for Bristol. The ‘Against’ panellists, Barbara Janke and Deborah Hallett, countered that a mayor would not be a panacea for all the problems in Bristol and the city-centric focus would restrict Bristol as an economic and strategic powerhouse.
However, things really started getting exciting when the discussion opened up to the floor. Insightful questions were raised about the lack of information on the mayor’s role and mandate, how the system would work and how the electorate were meant to reach any kind of decision without these basic facts. Even the heckling added something to the evening, with an impassioned plea from an audience member to resist the fear of change. And to top it off the interactive voting system, which gave us sleepless nights beforehand, worked perfectly and tracked the audience’s shifting views. At the end of the night, the ‘Yes’ vote was higher than the ‘No’ (47% to 36%) but the percentage of ‘No’ votes had increased significantly.
Our aim in setting up this debate was not to sway people in any direction or to endorse any political (or party political) view. So, for me, the most interesting statistic was that 83% of attendees felt that the debate was useful in helping them shape their opinions on whether we should have an elected mayor or not. What the result is going to be on the 3rd May is still anyone’s guess. But I’d like to believe that people left with a feeling that they were able to contribute their thoughts and views on what Bristolians want for our city. And let’s hope this discussion continues all the way to the polling booth.
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