For me, personally, starting a PhD programme seems like Pandora’s Box of secrets, the weighty lid of which excitement keeps firmly closed. Beyond these imaginings, however, the Postgraduate Research Student Induction event held over four consecutive days from Monday March 17 to Thursday March 20 provided paradisal calm. Its purpose, to introduce the rigours of academic life, the university’s pedagogical expectations, its rich research culture, and the library’s abundance of scholarly resources to attendees. Thanks to those who ran it, I now see a twinkle of light where before there were dark shadows of doubt.

As I strode through campus I stumbled across the Learning Hub and went inside. From then on the registration process proved plain sailing. Quick, efficient, and seamless for me. The warm and welcoming administrators immediately made me feel at ease. A short while later one of the facilitators came to greet us all in the atrium, his effervescent energy alleviating much of my first day nerves. It was clear from the start that everyone working on the Induction was invested in my progression to becoming a PhD candidate.

The Induction itself was full of comprehensive well-balanced overviews of essential elements, themes, and topics I will need to grapple with throughout my studies. Together with my cohort I explored the importance of research integrity, referencing, and data management and other such subjects. Each day followed a logical progression balancing presentations, workshops, and group discussions promoting periods of personal reflection and collaborative learning. The session which stood out for me most was the dreaded project presentations. Thankfully, an ethos of mutual respect, support and understanding was in the air. It was fascinating to learn about other peoples’ projects and their motivations for pursuing them.

As experienced public speakers all of the facilitators proved to be engaging in their delivery. Each captured our collective attention no matter the topic. Whether it was the Zotero reference management system or Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion for Researchers, it did not matter. The appropriate use of visuals, interactive group work and Q and A sessions proved to be extremely helpful when trying to comprehend, remember and recall key concepts that will surely later reveal themselves to be useful.

The fact that the Induction followed an in-person format rather than online or blended approach was of significant benefit to me. An in-person induction helped me to build strong bonds with my cohort. Indeed, a significant benefit from the induction was the opportunity to cultivate friendships and potential future working relationships. There were many group activities interspersed throughout each day with well-timed breaks for small talk. I had the opportunity to meet and work with everyone in my cohort at some stage on a task or while consuming coffee and biscuits.

In addition to meeting my cohort I learned who my subject specialist librarian is, the expertise of IT Services staff who I need when I just can’t get Word to work, and the fact that counselling and mental health professionals are at hand when the meltdown comes. There was also an effort to forge strong connections with current Postgraduate Reps who were further down the PhD road than myself. I now feel reassured that the academic and personal support is available to me should I have the need to cry out for help.

All in all my experience of the Postgraduate Research Student Induction was positive with my fear and foreboding abating for a short while at least. In all aspects the four days

exceeded my expectations and I left with a sense that although the road ahead will be bumpy the university has everything in place to make the journey as smooth as they are able. I would surely recommend the Induction. I am about to discover whether I would recommend pursuing a PhD.

Blog post written by: Michael Bowden

Mention a trip to the Arctic and people’s eyes generally widen a little. For some, the Arctic conjures images of heroic explorers manhauling sledges in a blizzard: for others, Instagram photos of the northern lights come to mind. Either way, visiting the far North has connotations of adventure, mystery, and perhaps, danger. When I explain the reason for the visit is to further my understanding of the lives of the women who have inhabited the Arctic, as part of my postgraduate research project, I get mixed responses.

I don’t need, or seek, other people’s approval, so why am I made to feel a little bit guilty about my self-funded, week-long research trip?

Firstly, it’s comments about my responsibilities. How on earth can my husband look after the dogs and carry out grandparent duties to our two-year-old grandson, as well as cook, clean, and get the shopping? I point out that my husband is extremely capable and hasn’t once complained about the hours I need to devote to my research. (Interestingly, he was never asked how I was managing when he was commuting to London to work twelve-hour shifts for the London Fire Brigade while I was going slightly insane looking after twin babies and a two-year-old toddler at home in Northampton.)

Secondly, maybe I’m just a product of an education system that was stuck in the past regarding women’s potential. My girls’ grammar school still taught how to make a bed, how to iron men’s trousers, and how to cook a nutritionally balanced three-course meal for a family. It wasn’t until my children were all at school that I decided I was worthy of studying for a degree. Despite going on to achieve my Master’s, am I still harbouring concerns that I’m over-reaching?

Yet, despite more guilt – this time about my carbon footprint – I boarded my WhizzAir flight to Tromso. I’d planned my research trip to coincide with the week of the Sami Festival, which gave me the opportunity to immerse myself in multiple cultural events: I learnt about the traditional Sami music, the joik, and went to a performance by a Sami choir ; I chatted to reindeer herders, who explained about the effects of climate change on their animals and their way of life; I practiced crafts at a workshop run by the Sami community, and I also spent hours in the numerous museums, researching not only about the lives of the Sami but also that of Wanny Wolstad, the first lady taxi driver in Tromso and the first female hunter-trapper of the high Arctic. It was invaluable to my research project to access such a wealth of historical artefacts and information.

And, yes, I witnessed the mysterious Northern Lights as they lit up the sky above the Lyngen Alps and, yes, I fell in love with the reindeer that were roaming the hills around the coastal village of Sommaroy, and, yes, I was emotionally moved by the sublime beauty of the snow-covered mountains and the ice-crusted fjords.

I don’t think I should feel guilty for any of that.

Blog post written by: Clare Moss