A project update: when things don’t quite go to plan.

Thomas Edison, Walt Disney, Henry Ford, Orville and Wilbur Wright. What do these famously successful people have in common? They all failed at first. Thomas Edison made 1000 unsuccessful attempts at inventing the light bulb. Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because ‘he lacked imagination’. Henry Ford failed and went bankrupt five times before he succeeded. Orville and Wilbur Wright created numerous failed prototypes before building and flying a plane that could stay airborne. Things don’t always go to plan the first, or second, or indeed nine-hundred and nighty-ninth time.

So, let me set the scene: it’s Tuesday morning and by morning I mean 3.15am. A 30-year-old woman sits at her desk, in her pyjamas and oversized sweatshirt, limbs twisted in all directions as she attempts to comfort the hot mess that she is right now. In (almost) complete darkness she switches, quite unpredictably, between crying and writing what resembles a diary entry. Why? Because she was just awoken by feelings of fear, stress, and defeat. Her masters project, a project that exhilarates her, that she loves, has become her adversary: stopping her from sleeping, fuelling feelings of anxiety, and trying to convince her that it just wouldn’t work. Yep, that’s right, a masters project was at the root of that grown woman’s mini break-down at 3.15am. There are worse things in life, right? Yeh, I know and yes, if it wasn’t already blatantly obvious, that woman is me.

In April I wrote a blog post about ‘The (un)joys of choosing a research project’. Project 1 had already fallen through at this point but I was enthusiastic to make Project 2 work. However, I soon realised that the direction of the research was facing a dead-end before it even really began. I looked at ways to adapt the project but something felt forced, as if I was trying to fit a circle piece into a square cut out. I also knew that I wanted, maybe even needed, to be really passionate about what I was researching. So, I decided to take a risk and develop a completely new project that excited me, that challenged me, and that produced important and relevant insights for conservation practice today. Third time lucky, aye?

As a result, I have developed a study to investigate multi-stakeholder perspectives on issues relating to escalating violence and human rights abuses in the context of law enforcement practices in Virunga National Park(VNP). I will be using a critical systems heuristics framework to explore how law enforcement practices in VNP affect how issues of expertise, values, ethics, securitisation and power are handled in conservation.

For the past 4 weeks I have been designing this project from scratch. It’s a process that takes time but unfortunately, time is a luxury that I do not have and I can feel that now more than ever. It’s a branch of conservation that I am absolutely fascinated by but I only know as much as a masters student can and it is not an area that my supervisor has expertise in, so we are going in brave but a little blind.

So, why the early morning wake-ups (no, last Tuesday was not the first 2.45am start)? There are probably four main reasons:

1) Risk vs. reward

In all honestly, I am quite simply scared that the risks I am taking, won’t pay off. I flip between feeling incredibly confident in the project progress, to realising I am in many ways out-of-my-depth, which in itself isn’t a problem but when you lack the time to learn how to swim properly the fear of drowning becomes more real.

2) Time

Despite the huge amount of exploratory and preparatory work I have put in over the past month, I can’t spend any more time ‘preparing’ and just have to dive in. As a result, I feel that I am not as in control as I would like to be, which is a sensation I struggle with.

3) Comparison

I am, at this point, weeks behind most of my peers, which reinforces everything that I have not yet achieved or completed.

4) The compounding factors

Stress compounds and my compounding factors are trying to live on a student budget and knowing that, by September, I will be unemployed and without a house to live in (dramatic? Yes, but at this point, also true).

However, thanks to the wisdom of my peers, who have written brilliant and insightful blog posts of their own, I know these moments aren’t strange or unique to my situation. The research process can be overwhelming at times and that’s okay. Having moments to allow that stress to release doesn’t mean I’m failing, it means I am human. Grace, a special thanks to you for your suggestion to journal the research process; it encouraged me to put pen to paper which was cathartic and made the causes of stress visible. Now, I can see which issues worry me and can put steps in place to address them.

So what do these next steps look like for me?

1) A bit of daily exercise, some healthy, wholesome food, and 10 minutes of meditation a day.

2) Learning to not attach myself to what I cannot control. The compounding factors can be deprioritised for now and I will make time my friend through organisation, planning, and efficiency.

3) When I gauge where my peers are at in their research process, I will remember that our research is different, our motivations are different, our approaches are different, our methods of study are different, and our situations are different.

4) When I need it, I will give myself real time off and not feel guilty about it!

When Edison was asked why it had taken him 1,000 unsuccessful attempts at inventing the lightbulb he replied ‘I didn’t fail 1,000 times. The light bulb was an invention with 1,000 steps.’ I don’t know what step I am on but I do know I will continue to take the next one and the one after that and the one after that and……

Kathleen Drake