One day bleeds into the next
When I got up for real around 6 AM, I took some Tylenol and tried to work on the slides for my presentation a bit. I woke Kakali per her request at 6:30, and went to Chris’ at 7 to wake her up, while I slowly and carefully chewed and swallowed a piece of dry toast, since I was still feeling ill, but knew I needed to eat something. I fiddled on my presentation more while she showered, and I suddenly realized that really I needed a print out of my notes pages, which I was unsure I’d be able to get. I had all the transitions worked out between slides on paper, but wasn’t sure I’d remember them in the presentation itself without looking. We headed up to campus on the shuttle I’d arranged at 7:50. Chris was very impressed I’d remember to do that the night before. I was definitely feeling the effects of not enough sleep and too much to drink. My head hurt and everything just felt muted, like I couldn’t quite wake up. Although we got to campus and the proper building early, they weren’t ready for me to set up and test my presentation. I asked Jenine if I could possibly print out something, and she, to my surprise, said yes, but in a few minutes. Hooray. I was going to have my notes pages. We stood around for a bit, looking out the windows. The Ecocentre, where we were, is in the middle of the bush. Much of the Griffith campus is bush. But the Ecocentre particularly, is very environmentally conscious, and rumor has it, the whole building could be disassembled, packed away, and no one would even know it had been there. The bathrooms were outside. No joke. You actually had to walk outside onto a deck to get to the bathrooms. I’d hate to have to go to the bathroom if it was raining.
Dan came up to Chris and me and asked how we were. A little fuzzy, I said. And worse, I was losing my voice. That’s because you were drinking last night, he said. Yeah, well, you were drinking too, I said to him. He nodded and made some remark about everybody feeling fuzzy today. Good, I said, I hope they stare out the windows during my presentation! It wasn’t that I was feeling nervous about it; I was just not feeling anything at all. And I know me better than that. To be a good presentation, I have to get at least a little jolt of adrenaline. I went and found Jenine again who said that I could do my printing thing while they finished the pre-set-up for my tech testing. I got my stuff printed at the info desk, and returned to the presentation room. They were having problems, and the keynote speaker was supposed to start in five minutes, so no testing beforehand.
Back in the hall, I ran into Tom. “You’re going to be happy with me today,” he said. “Oh?” I said. When am I not happy with Tom? “I had them switch the order of presentations so you can see the other video analysis one,” he said. There was only one other group presenting on video stuff, and we’d initially been scheduled for the exact same time slot. The format of the conference was to have three rooms running with presentations at all times. I had bitched about this in Melbourne, and Lyn’s response had been, “Well, conferences are hard to organize” while Tom had said that I had a really good point and yes it WAS stupid for them to have done it that way such that people would end up missing other potentially similar and certainly of interest presentations because of their own presentations. I don’t know who Tom bribed, but the people in the other room had agreed to swap the first two slots.
For the keynote, I sat in between Chris and Supriya. Chris was making notes for the panel discussion happening in the afternoon. I read the e-mail printout Supriya was holding. It was descriptions of each of us for her intro of the panel. Did you know that I’m a research fellow at Harvard? Yeah, me neither. I turned to Supriya and helped her make the appropriate corrections. TANGENT: This is one thing that has driven me nuts (just one thing, there are others!) about Lyn – she has somehow got it in her head that I’m from Harvard, so this is what she tells people. That’s fine. She’s confused. But nowhere in my paper or in any correspondence I ever sent Jenine did I say I was from Harvard. And yet, on my nametag, it said Harvard, and in the description Supriya had been sent by Jenine it said Harvard… And I would have liked for Jenine to pay attention to who and where I said I was from, not to listen to Lyn when all that information was explicitly asked for by the conference organizers, I had provided it correctly. I scribbled it out on my nametag. (By the way, Chris says that this annoyance is one thing she remembers me ranting about on Wednesday while we were drinking…) END TANGENT.
The keynote speaker was not fantastic. I left during the questions and answers to pace around in the hall, trying to wake up my soggy brain, and get myself excited about my presentation, which was first thing after the morning tea. I had a few half slices of tea bread and a cup of tea, trying to strengthen my blood sugar and my voice. While everyone else was having their morning tea, I spent half an hour helping the tech folks set up my laptop with my presentation. It was fraught with problems. First, the video looked like you were watching it through Venetian blinds. There were horizontal lines through it! But not on my screen, just when it got projected. Then, the audio was terrible. Although we got the video problem fixed, the audio was improved only slightly through multiple maneuvers. The real problem was their speaker. Next issue was, if I had the DVD program open on my computer, although I could switch to my Powerpoint slide show on my computer, it was the DVD that remained projected. I literally had to close the DVD program to get the projector to show my PP slides. And, we were already running ten minutes late. I was supposed to have half an hour – 20 minutes for the presentation, 10 minutes for Q&A. At some point in there, Chris, bless her, had come in and asked if I needed anything (I gave her my water bottle to fill up), and pulled me aside to ask if she should ask a question after the presentation. I told her she could if she felt like it. She asked if there was anything I wanted to be asked! I had to laugh. I hadn’t thought about setting it up like that, so no, there wasn’t anything I needed asked, but it was nice of her to offer. She sat down in the front, my moral support. Finally, I shook the tech guys off. We’d already spent 40 minutes playing with it, and I was holding up the entire group of presenters in that room for the day.
I greeted the audience (I was surprised by having about 30 people in my room), and apologized for the technical difficulties, joking about “audio, visual, and audio” [my voice] issues, and recalling my joke to Jenine that if the technical stuff didn’t work, next year, she’d be forced to host a QualI conference, instead of QualIT. Then launched into my presentation. I was trying to speed it along, and after the first two slides, completely gave up on the notes pages. Things went pretty well. I showed my first set of video clips with only a little stumbling around on the computer, but stopped them early because 1) the audio was still awful, and with kids speaking in American accents, I wasn’t sure how much was being understood by the audience anyway and 2) I was trying to make up time. What surprised me was how well the JS piece went over. The slides fell into place, my description made sense, I had the audience envision the scene while I read it, then, when I showed the video, you could tell they were amazed. They were definitely into me after that. So at least things ended with a bang! I had finished in 15 minutes, and immediately multiple hands shot up with questions. I had time to get to four of them, and spoke coherently and well to three of them. The fourth question, I dodged, and said something else entirely, but it turned out that that anecdote was what many people later remembered, since many people mentioned it to me after, and people who hadn’t seen the presentation had heard about that from their friends, so that was good too. (I forget the question exactly, but I responded by telling about JW having an asthma attack and taking the camera, and doctors being on the edge of their seats, etc.)
Then, I ran into the next room to see the other video analysis presentation. They were doing something where they needed access and analysis of three video streams at once!! There is more to it than that, but suffice to say, it’s different enough from what we’re doing that their system doesn’t help us. Ask me when I get back if you’d like more details. One noteworthy bit, though, was that they have defined “scenes”, “events”, and “tasks”. Tasks make up events, and there are multiple events in each scene. It’s almost identical to our tapes, scenes, and scenelets.
After that presentation, my brain was in need of a short break, so I sat on the stairs with Chris and we debriefed on my presentation (the first of several talks about it – it was still too close temporally for me to be objective about it at that point) and talked about the upcoming panel. We had some good brainstorms for that, and it helped crystallize exactly what I needed to say.
I went to another presentation on grounded theory which was fine, but very basic, and nothing I hadn’t heard before, except it has made me realize I need to at least skim Glaser and Strauss, Strauss and Corbin, and Glaser because I had no idea they didn’t all agree all the time! Big picture thought: One of the things I got out of the conference and these two weeks with Kakali and Chris, particularly, is that it’s okay that I don’t know big words like epistemology, and the details of the theoretical underpinnings of qualitative research. It’s okay that I don’t know grounded theory inside and out, but use Michael’s “Cumberland Gap” metaphor instead. What’s important is that I know what I’m doing in VIA, and that it makes sense to me in a way I can transmit to other people. And it’s fine that I’m very experienced in VIA and not in anything else. What I’m doing is important and worthwhile. What has been elucidated very clearly, unfortunately, is the gap between researchers and people who work in the “real world” with qualitative research as opposed to those with a more academic or theoretical mindset. This was talked about a lot over the past two weeks and I’m seeing things quite differently now. I had gone into all this (and this had been my mode of operation all along) thinking that I was a naïve, young kid at all this, and that I really couldn’t play with the big thinkers. What Chris helped me realize is that I don’t need to. Because I know what I’m doing. And that’s all I need.
Over lunch and in between things, several people came up to me and asked more questions about VIA or the analysis, or just generally said they really liked the presentation, so that was cool.
Then came the panel. I have resisted writing up the conference days because of the panel. Remember our agreed on format from the night before – Chris (7 minutes to present her paper as the basis for the discussion), Kakali (5 minutes because she’s got a lot of complex things to say), me (2 min), Dan (2 min), Lyn (2 min). We had 55 minutes. The rest was to be discussion with the audience. Supriya began by doing cursory introductions of everybody, and then handed the floor to me. I gave it to Chris. She did her thing, and Supriya indicated when her time was up. Kakali did her piece, and Supriya indicated when her time was up. I talked briefly on VIA and how using qual software didn’t change our field process or our aims, but did change our analysis as a process. Easily done in two minutes. Dan basically said his opinions were too complex to be expressed. Then Lyn. “You have less than five minutes,” said Supriya. And proceeded to let her talk for FIFTEEN MINUTES. I was already annoyed at Supriya for telling Lyn she had 5 minutes instead of her agreed upon 2 minutes. But when she didn’t cut her off or even indicate time to her, I was furious. I even indicated to Supriya that Lyn was running over, but was ignored. Then we had only twenty minutes for questions, so we could only take a couple, and Lyn answered most of them with what were, essentially, advertisements for QSR. Also, I am not sure she had read Chris’ paper at all. I didn’t say a thing the rest of the time, and it was good that I didn’t have much of a voice by that point because I would have said some uncouth things probably too loudly. I was quite upset. My exact fears, which I had spelled out to people in advance to make sure they didn’t happen, had come to pass. I felt that Supriya was in Lyn’s pocket, as her former graduate student and current friend, “light of my father’s life”, Lyn had said. And, I had stressed multiple times that I wanted for all of the panel to be equally involved in the discussion that would ensue from our short blurbs. Which of the panel was involved? Mainly Lyn. Some Dan. Very little Chris or Kakali. And no me. What was the point of my sitting there the whole hour? It was farcical to pull me up there to deliver my 120 seconds worth if it wasn’t going to be used, and wasn’t necessary for the rest of the panel.
Chris pulled me out of the building and I started ranting with my remaining squeaks of voice. Chris, Kakali, and I felt very much like we’d been put down in a big way. Along the lines of “well, now that the little ones have had their fun at playing qualitative research, the experienced adults will tell you all the right way to do it”. I was livid and embarrassed besides. It seemed so obvious that the three of us had prepared, tying our remarks to Chris’ paper, and being respectful of our time constraints. And then Lyn had just gone off, particularly after blowing off our planning meeting the night before and not being around for other discussions we’d had (some planned) about the panel. My rant was stopped short by the approach of a conference participant, who was asking directions back to the hotel, and telling us how much she appreciated the panel. “How did you think it went?” she asked Chris. Chris smiled through clenched teeth. I forget the exact discussion, but Kakali had arrived and then we started talking about going back to the hotel. For some reason, Amee had started to tell us about how she had lost her luggage years ago, and when she got it back, half her underwear was missing – and it was dirty underwear, “worn four times – inside, outside, backwards, and forwards”. (I’m sure I’ve already told this story somewhere in this journal, but this is where it happened chronologically.) We managed to pick up a ride with Alamein (one of the trainers we’d met the week before), and Kakali, Chris, and I went out to sit by the pool and vent about the day. The plan had been to take a nap before dinner that night, but venting seemed more important. I couldn’t help though, having no voice, so after several glasses of orange juice, I indicated that I really could use a nap before dinner. Kakali had to go do something too, and Chris wanted to shower. I didn’t feel like walking back to my room, though, and Chris’ had two beds, so I lay down in her room. Unfortunately, I just lay there, and never really slept. Chris was in and out a bit, and even lay down for a while, similarly not sleeping, and rather wound up. She checked out the CD that came with our conference program and found that her paper was on it, but specifically noted as “not peer-reviewed”, which completely angered her because Jenine had told her it was reviewed. (There’s a longer story here, too, obviously, but I’ll spare you unless you ask me in person.) So finally we just lay there shaking our heads.
At 6:30, Kakali met us at Chris’ room and we walked up to take a taxi to dinner. It was the conference dinner that night, at Southbank in Brisbane. As usual, we got a taxi driver who didn’t know where he was going. Then we wandered around on Southbank, lost for a bit, even on foot. Finally, we did make it to the restaurant, the River Canteen. They were doing drinks and hors d’oeuvres outside. I had water. On the rocks. The thought of alcohol, and particularly red wine, made me nauseated.
The guy whose question I dodged walked right up to me and introduced me to a woman who hadn’t been at the conference but who he had wanted me to talk to. Of course, my talking capability was slim. The woman does work with disabled individuals, trying to advocate for better industry response to them for when things don’t meet their needs. We talked (she talked, I whispered) for a while.
When dinner was called, I bee-lined for Chris. We still stood around for a bit, and when someone asked me a question, I turned to Chris, and she answered it, speaking for me. “Is she channeling you?!” the questioner asked. “We’ve spent a lot of time together,” said Chris. I smiled. I am so glad Chris really GOT me and GOT VIA and GOT my use of NVivo to the point where she could literally talk for me about it, and further, that she was happy to do so.
Right before we sat down at a table, I’d been introduced to the guy who’d done the other presentation about video analysis. He hadn’t seen my presentation, so Chris gave him the highlights. During dinner, I had the guy on my left, and Chris to my right. I held my own when whispering to the guy, but if I wanted to be involved in the table discussion, Chris had to help me out. It became very funny because sometimes I’d lean over to her and she’d respond to me without telling the table. This would pique the interest of others at the table who’d then want to know what I had said. No one else was listened to as attentively as I was that night. They all seemed to realize that if I was going to take the effort to get it out, it was probably worth hearing. Chris’ best performance came later in the evening when we were talking about ways to screw up your coding or useless ways to code. I had leaned over to her and said simply, “At first, I was coding objective as “objective” and subjective as “subjective” – gave that up quick!” She laughed and everyone demanded to know what I said. So she explained it – to people who didn’t know VIA or obj and subj. She even gave examples of each and talked about the difference when they are logged, and why that meant coding it wasn’t necessary. She gave the whole response, almost exactly as I would have. The girl’s in my head!
And speaking of performance – I have mixed feelings about the Aboriginal performers who came and danced and sang for us. Here we were – a group of predominantly white, certainly middle to upper class, educated people, and something about having this older Aboriginal guy and his maybe 10 year old grandson dancing and singing for us just seemed exploitative. People didn’t know when to clap, people in the back couldn’t hear what the guy was saying even when he was explaining in English (this was us – way in the back), and after the first ten minutes or so, people went back to having their own conversations and stuff. It was really odd and quite uncomfortable.
Dinner was a choice of several main courses. Nearly all of us chose the kangaroo because, come on! Kangaroo! But now I’ve had kangaroo. It was alright. Dinner conversation was lively the whole time, although one young woman across from me was particularly annoying and frequently presented an academic supremacy viewpoint to which the actual researching people took some offense. Reaching her limit with this girl, Chris excused herself several times for a cigarette or trip to the loo. If it was the former, I tended to be inclined to join her, even if to just stretch my legs and be outside for two minutes. Dinner was a very long event, with probably 45 minutes between dinner and dessert. Dessert was also average – a choice, again, between pavlova, apple-fig tart, and a white chocolate-macadamia nut thing. I had the apple-fig tart.
Didn’t win any of the door prizes, although the guy next to me did. Just after stating loudly that he didn’t want an NVivo book, that’s what he won. We were all amused.
After dessert, a group of us realized we were all going to the same place, so we had the restaurant call a “maxi taxi” which can sit 11 people. We walked up to meet it. The group ahead of us, of all the dignitaries, Lyn, Tom, etc., had also ordered one, and it arrived just as we got to the pick up. So off they went – they actually had 11 people. We met up with three more people and made 9. We sent away several single taxis and finally the Maxi Taxi arrived and we piled in. Slightly tipsy conversation continued and there was much laughing about the difference between partners, lovers, and spouses. We had a good time. One thing I really like about Australia is that people automatically talk about their “partner” instead of immediately saying “my wife” or “my boyfriend”. I like the openness that indicates.
Even though I hadn’t really felt like going to dinner and being social with a whole crowd of people, I was really glad I had gone. But already, thoughts of how this was all coming to an end were creeping into my head…
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