I'm finding it hard to get going this morning. Maybe it's because it's cold outside and I don't really want to move. More likely, I feel a bit bored. I spent all day yesterday doing coursework, trying to make an impossible project fit into a minuscule word limit. It doesn't do much for the motivation, I can tell you. In addition, I feel like I'm going for some sort of world record in email checking. I know I won't get an answer from any of my PhD places for at least a few weeks, but what if they email me? It is ridiculous, but I've never been much good at waiting, and this has such a large impact on my future (in my view anyway), that the waiting is even more agonising.
Today, I'm faced with the same again. More email checking, more writing. All I really want to do at the moment is go on holiday somewhere. Do something new. Anything. I'm not fussy. Still, in a couple of weeks I've booked to go and see an opera in town. I know, it probably doesn't sound interesting to anyone other than me, but hey, I like it and it's something to do!
Other than writing coursework and checking emails, I really haven't done anything else. This is the downside of being a student: if you're not into the partying madness that goes on, you're pretty much stuck slaving over books. It gets pretty boring after a while, and I would love nothing more than a change.
Still, I can console myself with the fact that next week I am halfway through my first term. So, I'll have a Christmas break, another term, the Easter revision period (let's face it, it isn't a break at all), four exams and I'll finally be done with my degree. It is a hell of a lot easier to break the year down like this - it seems somehow less of a stretch to the finish this way. I know, it's still a long time, but I try not to think about that too much. Once I'm done with my exams, I intend to enjoy myself over the summer. I don't want to get any work placements, I just want to make some time to do what I enjoy, and to kill off the boredom. Quite what this involves, I'm not sure. Mostly, it will depend on who is around and who wants to do stuff, and of course whether I have any money left by then. Hopefully, if I get my PhD place, I'll have to spend at least some of my summer finding a new place to live - I can't really think about this until I know where I'm going though. Which means checking my email. Here we go again...
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Friday, 25 October 2013
One-Third Down
Well, in stark contrast to last week, this week has been pretty good! I've joined another French class (much easier, with much more talking - I'll skip the singing though), I've completely re-written my coursework (thanks to being able to see it on my brand-new shiny laptop) and I've applied for one of the two PhD programmes that I have wanted for months. I suppose this is why I'm now ill - you can't win them all.
The past week was week 4 - I can't believe I've been 'back' for a whole month now. Of course, in reality this means I've had only four days of lectures in total, but that's just how it is. Overall, I have another 8 weeks to go before the Christmas break, and I'm sure after this break time will run even faster. Although I'm not wishing the time away as such, I think now I want to move on to bigger and better things. There are only so many times I can read about Freud and Pavlov without being bored.
Speaking of bigger and better things, I managed to buy myself a new laptop! I'm being paid for my work as a clinical study coordinator, and so for the first time I've found myself with money to spend on things other than rent, bills and food. After much deliberation over the weekend, I finally took a deep breath and pressed the 'buy' button. While it's the most expensive thing I've ever bought, in reality it was pretty cheap for what I've got, and I'm enjoying watching stuff in HD and actually being able to properly see what I am writing. I could easily get used to this whole 'treating yourself' thing.
So, to my final big news of the week: my PhD application. I had a draft cover letter written for quite some time now, but I was never particularly happy with it. While lots of people told me it looked good, I was never totally convinced. I hate writing about my achievements - talking about them in person is fine, because you have all the subtleties of my tone of voice and so on. Writing is a whole other story - it's very easy for me to sound arrogant, and I want to avoid this at all costs. Luckily, there are some great lecturers at my university, and I had a meeting with someone on how to improve my cover letter. The upshot of the meeting was that I was too modest - I'm sure not a lot of my peers would agree with this! Still, I got lots of tips on how to 'sell myself' more effectively, without sounding arrogant, and my cover letter was complete at last.
Thus, on Wednesday I sent my application. The programme to which I applied was one of two that I have been dreaming about for months (my family and friends are pretty sick of hearing about this, I think - sorry!). So, it was a huge relief to finally send off those forms. I must admit though, that while one weight was lifted, another one has now been put in its place, and the next couple of weeks will be a tense wait. Still, I have another two applications left to send, so I should have plenty of options.
While the range of options should be reassuring, I'm fairly certain I will be a complete bundle of nerves until I get my answers. I honestly don't think I have wanted so much in my life, but all I can do is wait for the responses. At least time seems to be going much faster now - hurry up, January!
The past week was week 4 - I can't believe I've been 'back' for a whole month now. Of course, in reality this means I've had only four days of lectures in total, but that's just how it is. Overall, I have another 8 weeks to go before the Christmas break, and I'm sure after this break time will run even faster. Although I'm not wishing the time away as such, I think now I want to move on to bigger and better things. There are only so many times I can read about Freud and Pavlov without being bored.
Speaking of bigger and better things, I managed to buy myself a new laptop! I'm being paid for my work as a clinical study coordinator, and so for the first time I've found myself with money to spend on things other than rent, bills and food. After much deliberation over the weekend, I finally took a deep breath and pressed the 'buy' button. While it's the most expensive thing I've ever bought, in reality it was pretty cheap for what I've got, and I'm enjoying watching stuff in HD and actually being able to properly see what I am writing. I could easily get used to this whole 'treating yourself' thing.
So, to my final big news of the week: my PhD application. I had a draft cover letter written for quite some time now, but I was never particularly happy with it. While lots of people told me it looked good, I was never totally convinced. I hate writing about my achievements - talking about them in person is fine, because you have all the subtleties of my tone of voice and so on. Writing is a whole other story - it's very easy for me to sound arrogant, and I want to avoid this at all costs. Luckily, there are some great lecturers at my university, and I had a meeting with someone on how to improve my cover letter. The upshot of the meeting was that I was too modest - I'm sure not a lot of my peers would agree with this! Still, I got lots of tips on how to 'sell myself' more effectively, without sounding arrogant, and my cover letter was complete at last.
Thus, on Wednesday I sent my application. The programme to which I applied was one of two that I have been dreaming about for months (my family and friends are pretty sick of hearing about this, I think - sorry!). So, it was a huge relief to finally send off those forms. I must admit though, that while one weight was lifted, another one has now been put in its place, and the next couple of weeks will be a tense wait. Still, I have another two applications left to send, so I should have plenty of options.
While the range of options should be reassuring, I'm fairly certain I will be a complete bundle of nerves until I get my answers. I honestly don't think I have wanted so much in my life, but all I can do is wait for the responses. At least time seems to be going much faster now - hurry up, January!
Friday, 18 October 2013
And Breathe
After an abysmal start to the week, I've finally finished all of my work. I wasn't too happy at the beginning of the week, largely due to frustration at not learning anything new. Think back to the angry six year old who didn't want to repeat already-known material. Luckily, yesterday was much better (even if I did spend 12 hours on campus, eight of which were in lessons).
Today I've managed to re-write large sections of my coursework, type up all of my notes and begin other aspects of my coursework. So far, I've not managed to get going with my PhD cover letter, but I still have a few more weeks to think about it. All in all, it's been a fairly mixed week.
Yesterday was an incredibly long day. A meeting with my supervisor, then straight into one lecture, a short break, then two lectures and a two-hour French class all without a break. I managed to get home some time around 9, and had tea and biscuits for dinner...
I was quite surprised at myself yesterday. I'm not exactly renowned for speaking up in classes, preferring to keep my answers to myself, but I actually managed to lead a group discussion. This is so rare for me, I'm not quite sure what came over me! In addition, I managed to spot some clever methodological observation that nobody else had seen - not even the lecturer - and when the lecturer asked me to explain I did so in front of a class of 90 people without any problem. Don't get me wrong, I don't get anxious about speaking in front of people - I'm no longer shy (as perhaps I was when I was younger), but I rarely contribute in such situations. I'm confident in my own answers, I don't often share them. Yesterday though was different for some reason. I think to be honest a lot of this is down to my placement. I seem to have approached these things with a different attitude, and yesterday I managed to surprise myself.
Most of the other classes yesterday were fairly standard. Lecturers droning on for two hours about what they thought and so on. While at times this could be moderately interesting, if it didn't have neurons, brains in general, or some other connection to neuroscience, I wasn't overly excited.
After my last lecture finished, I had to run to my French class. I have never taken a language class in my life, but I started learning French over the summer, and figured it was about time I take a proper course. I have to admit, the class I was in was going a bit too fast for my liking. I could understand most of what was going on - I even answered questions and spoke in front of the whole class again (in French this time too!) - but it was difficult to keep up. I was pretty pleased though with how much I understood, and how much I spoke. The tutor was pretty strict on pronunciation (someone who was speaking without many problems [god knows what he was doing in the class] was still being pulled up on his pronunciation), but apparently I didn't have any problems at all. Whether she was humouring me or not was another story, but still, I felt pleased with myself. To make things a little easier, I'll be joining a different class. This time, it's on another day (so I won't feel like my brain has melted when I get there) and it's at a slower pace, so I'm hoping I'll be able to make real progress and actually learn something this year!
Today I've managed to re-write large sections of my coursework, type up all of my notes and begin other aspects of my coursework. So far, I've not managed to get going with my PhD cover letter, but I still have a few more weeks to think about it. All in all, it's been a fairly mixed week.
Yesterday was an incredibly long day. A meeting with my supervisor, then straight into one lecture, a short break, then two lectures and a two-hour French class all without a break. I managed to get home some time around 9, and had tea and biscuits for dinner...
I was quite surprised at myself yesterday. I'm not exactly renowned for speaking up in classes, preferring to keep my answers to myself, but I actually managed to lead a group discussion. This is so rare for me, I'm not quite sure what came over me! In addition, I managed to spot some clever methodological observation that nobody else had seen - not even the lecturer - and when the lecturer asked me to explain I did so in front of a class of 90 people without any problem. Don't get me wrong, I don't get anxious about speaking in front of people - I'm no longer shy (as perhaps I was when I was younger), but I rarely contribute in such situations. I'm confident in my own answers, I don't often share them. Yesterday though was different for some reason. I think to be honest a lot of this is down to my placement. I seem to have approached these things with a different attitude, and yesterday I managed to surprise myself.
Most of the other classes yesterday were fairly standard. Lecturers droning on for two hours about what they thought and so on. While at times this could be moderately interesting, if it didn't have neurons, brains in general, or some other connection to neuroscience, I wasn't overly excited.
After my last lecture finished, I had to run to my French class. I have never taken a language class in my life, but I started learning French over the summer, and figured it was about time I take a proper course. I have to admit, the class I was in was going a bit too fast for my liking. I could understand most of what was going on - I even answered questions and spoke in front of the whole class again (in French this time too!) - but it was difficult to keep up. I was pretty pleased though with how much I understood, and how much I spoke. The tutor was pretty strict on pronunciation (someone who was speaking without many problems [god knows what he was doing in the class] was still being pulled up on his pronunciation), but apparently I didn't have any problems at all. Whether she was humouring me or not was another story, but still, I felt pleased with myself. To make things a little easier, I'll be joining a different class. This time, it's on another day (so I won't feel like my brain has melted when I get there) and it's at a slower pace, so I'm hoping I'll be able to make real progress and actually learn something this year!
Monday, 14 October 2013
Selling Yourself
Today marks the start of week 3 of the academic year - only 29 weeks of term left! Ok, this really is nothing to get excited about, but I suppose it's progress. After a sleep-deprived weekend (no, don't worry, I haven't suddenly turned into your average party-going student - I watched F1 early in the morning instead), I've spent all day today reading textbooks and journal articles.
When I first 'came back' to uni (let's face it, I never really left over the summer break), I had to admit it was a struggle getting back into the swing of things. I spent the past year on placement, and I was so used to working - running studies and EEGs and so forth. I found it incredibly difficult to sit and read through something I wasn't overly interested in, but had to for my courses. I was so used to reading up-to-date articles about neuroscience (neurological disorders and brain stimulation mainly), that reading dusty old sociology books about labelling theory and articles about theory of mind just didn't do anything for me. I think it was the first time in my life I had been so apathetic. Sure, I read about stuff I didn't like before, but I could see the point in doing that (passing my exams). By contrast, this stuff seems pointless, irrelevant and boring...
However, today I think I've turned a corner. I remember how I did it in second year. I would say that studying is like riding a bike - you never really forget - but since I can't actually ride a bike... You get the picture. I've managed to power my way through most of the week's reading (bar the dusty clinical psychology stuff - that's a job for tomorrow), and I have the headache and neckache to prove it. While the reading hasn't really brought me anything in the way of progress towards the end of my degree, it's all preparation for the final exams and thus, my ticket out. Now, if only they'd give me something interesting and new to read...
Something I haven't managed to do is finish writing my cover letter for one of the PhD programmes I'm applying for. This is the programme I desperately want, and so I have to get this cover letter right. However, I seem to have spent the last half an hour just staring at the screen of my computer. I've got the broad format of what I want to say, but it's difficult to say it. I need to 'sell myself' all the websites tell me. Great. Only I'm not too good at that. Sure, my academic record speaks for itself, and I have tons of experience, I just don't know how to say any of this without sounding like a complete moron.
I've never been too great at talking up my achievements. When I think about what I've done over the last three years of my degree, the experience I've gained, the knowledge I've built up, it's a lot. But it doesn't seem that way to me. I'm so used to running studies and getting great grades, I can't make it sound exciting. I've been told I'm too modest with my achievements. I've also been told I'm too arrogant. I've been told I'm not confident enough. I've been told I'm too cocky. I can't really win. When I write in the typical cover letter style, I sound like I'm bragging, and I feel like nobody would particularly like me as a person. When I tone it down, I sound like a complete idiot. So, for the moment I have a bad case of writer's block - something incredibly rare for me. I don't like it, and it's another thing driving me insane.
I suppose a lot of this is to do with my personality. I'm 'quietly confident', as my supervisor put it. I know I'm a good student, I know how to work towards something, but I just don't like to talk about it in detail too much. I think if I manage to get an interview, I'd easily be able to talk about my achievements and why I'd be suited for a PhD. On paper, it's not so easy - I think I spend half the time staring at the screen, and the other half cringing at what I've written. Sadly, quiet confidence is hard to get across in a letter, so I think I'm stuck at sounding arrogant or sounding like an idiot. In any case, the deadline for applications is a fair way away, so for now I'm waiting for a sudden hit of inspiration, and I'll stick with the quiet angst about what to write while reading my dusty books.
When I first 'came back' to uni (let's face it, I never really left over the summer break), I had to admit it was a struggle getting back into the swing of things. I spent the past year on placement, and I was so used to working - running studies and EEGs and so forth. I found it incredibly difficult to sit and read through something I wasn't overly interested in, but had to for my courses. I was so used to reading up-to-date articles about neuroscience (neurological disorders and brain stimulation mainly), that reading dusty old sociology books about labelling theory and articles about theory of mind just didn't do anything for me. I think it was the first time in my life I had been so apathetic. Sure, I read about stuff I didn't like before, but I could see the point in doing that (passing my exams). By contrast, this stuff seems pointless, irrelevant and boring...
However, today I think I've turned a corner. I remember how I did it in second year. I would say that studying is like riding a bike - you never really forget - but since I can't actually ride a bike... You get the picture. I've managed to power my way through most of the week's reading (bar the dusty clinical psychology stuff - that's a job for tomorrow), and I have the headache and neckache to prove it. While the reading hasn't really brought me anything in the way of progress towards the end of my degree, it's all preparation for the final exams and thus, my ticket out. Now, if only they'd give me something interesting and new to read...
Something I haven't managed to do is finish writing my cover letter for one of the PhD programmes I'm applying for. This is the programme I desperately want, and so I have to get this cover letter right. However, I seem to have spent the last half an hour just staring at the screen of my computer. I've got the broad format of what I want to say, but it's difficult to say it. I need to 'sell myself' all the websites tell me. Great. Only I'm not too good at that. Sure, my academic record speaks for itself, and I have tons of experience, I just don't know how to say any of this without sounding like a complete moron.
I've never been too great at talking up my achievements. When I think about what I've done over the last three years of my degree, the experience I've gained, the knowledge I've built up, it's a lot. But it doesn't seem that way to me. I'm so used to running studies and getting great grades, I can't make it sound exciting. I've been told I'm too modest with my achievements. I've also been told I'm too arrogant. I've been told I'm not confident enough. I've been told I'm too cocky. I can't really win. When I write in the typical cover letter style, I sound like I'm bragging, and I feel like nobody would particularly like me as a person. When I tone it down, I sound like a complete idiot. So, for the moment I have a bad case of writer's block - something incredibly rare for me. I don't like it, and it's another thing driving me insane.
I suppose a lot of this is to do with my personality. I'm 'quietly confident', as my supervisor put it. I know I'm a good student, I know how to work towards something, but I just don't like to talk about it in detail too much. I think if I manage to get an interview, I'd easily be able to talk about my achievements and why I'd be suited for a PhD. On paper, it's not so easy - I think I spend half the time staring at the screen, and the other half cringing at what I've written. Sadly, quiet confidence is hard to get across in a letter, so I think I'm stuck at sounding arrogant or sounding like an idiot. In any case, the deadline for applications is a fair way away, so for now I'm waiting for a sudden hit of inspiration, and I'll stick with the quiet angst about what to write while reading my dusty books.
Wednesday, 9 October 2013
Independent Learning
For eight years before starting college, I was home educated. Lots of people found this quite strange (and many people still do to be honest), and wondered whether coming out of a school environment would harm my chances later on. I suppose the prevailing image of home educators as spiritual worshipping-the-mother-goddess-hippy-types didn't really do much good for the perception of the decision, but nonetheless, I left school. I had the usual tirade of 'How does she socialise?' 'Who teaches you?' and so on for many years (again, I still do), however my responses of 'I socialise a lot more out of school than I ever did within school' and 'I teach myself' usually shut people up.
In school, my life was hell. I was bullied for being top of the class (I still get snide comments and derision from a lot of people - difference is now I just don't care and I'm proud of what I'm doing), and I simply wasn't learning. The people who know me realise that I love to be stretched. I'm not happy unless I'm really learning things. I like being confused, then finding a solution to a problem. Home education allowed me to do this. If I found a topic interesting, I'd go and learn about it. I'd often give myself projects to do, and would devote myself to asking questions and finding the answers myself. I think this is perhaps a reason why I want to go into a research career. There's only so much you can learn from existing knowledge and the chance to create new knowledge is a step up. I digress...
When I negotiated my way out of home educated life and into college, I thought that the step from GCSEs to A-Levels would allow me to be stretched once more. To be honest, it didn't really happen like that. Sure, I worked hard and learnt a lot, but it wasn't necessarily 'difficult'. Exams are always something I've done well at - they don't test your knowledge per se, but rather they test your ability to pass exams. Finding out the best exam technique is what gets you the marks, and this is something I've figured out early on.
Of course, once I'd gained everything I possibly could from college, I moved on to university. I never wanted to go to university. I didn't think it was for me - I thought it was for those rich kids who had previously had a private education. Still, one of my tutors in college suggested that I'd find it a challenge - I'd learn a lot, and meet like-minded people who also wanted to learn. So, I applied.
Now, before you get the wrong idea after reading the following pages, let me be clear on something. I don't regret coming to university. Far from it. It's been one of the best experiences of my life, and I'm eternally grateful to that tutor who told me to go. I've met some amazing and inspiring people, and it's given me a stepping stone for my future.
However, I don't feel I've been challenged enough. My placement year was perhaps an exception to this notion - when you're on your first day of placement and you have to run an EEG with a seriously ill patient, that's a challenge, believe me. During the rest of the time, I think I could have learned more and done more. I'm not saying that the three (nearly four) years have been completely without their difficult moments - negotiating six exams in second year was definitely a tricky one - but overall I feel that most of my degree has been repetition.
Year 1 for example was pretty much a repeat of my A-levels, the only difference being statistics (which I had never done before). Even then, statistics wasn't difficult (stem and leaf diagrams and calculating the mean were a large part of the exam I took). To be honest, I had expected this anyway. On a personal note, I think the social side was more of a challenge than the academic. Living with housemates who were the complete opposite to me in terms of personality, and trying to find a group of friends who were similar to me were more difficult than the coursework. In first year, we also had to take classes about our studying technique. This was a bit of a contentious point for me - after eight years of being home educated, I was well aware of what worked well for me and what didn't work so well. I didn't need to do a quiz about 'what kind of learner' I was. I didn't need to be told that an essay had a beginning, a middle and an end (surely this is common knowledge anyway?). No matter, I'd assumed it was just part of the process of settling in to university life.
Year 2 was challenging in terms of the work load, rather than the work content. Statistics brought with it group work, which was fine on some levels, and not so fine on other levels. When you're working with someone who's 'aiming for 40%' and you're looking for high firsts, you have to expect problems. What was surprising, was the fact that we still had 'study skills' seminars. Yes, again we were told that an essay had a beginning a middle and an end. Apparently the aim of these seminars was to help us become independent learners...
Now that I'm in my final year, I thought that perhaps I'd finally see an end to the whole 'independent learner classes' thing. Not so. Last week, I had a lecture about 'what is a journal article', in which we learnt how to read and evaluate articles. This surprised me, as I figured that most students should be able to do this by their final year of university, and something very wrong must have happened if students were incapable. Still, it was the first week and perhaps things would be different.
Well, this week it seems I have a lecture about 'how to write an essay'. Over the course of my degree, I have lost count of the number of essays I have written. I knew from the outset that an essay has a beginning, a middle and an end. I'd be astounded if anyone on my course didn't realise this. To be honest, I find lectures like this less helpful, more patronising. I've never been very good at 'learning' things I already knew. I remember when I was around 6 years old coming out of a class and throwing my homework at my Mum because we'd been asked to spell things like 'I' 'We' 'Are' 'You' and 'A'. I knew all of this, and it made me angry that we were going over it all again. I suppose I still feel the same way.
Similarly, last week we had an introduction to a module that I already disliked - even before starting. In the introduction, it was explained to us that a lot of psychology graduates lacked the ability to be self-directed learners. Thus, we were taking this module to be taught how to be self-directed. Can anyone else see the flaw in this?
Apparently, my university can't see the issue, so I'll spell it out. In order to become a self-directed or independent learner, you have figure things out on your own. You shouldn't be spoon-fed information. Going away and finding this out for yourself is important. So, having someone teach you how to learn by yourself is a bit of a contradiction in terms. Perhaps I'm too cynical, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks this way. In any case, by the final year of university, I expected people to know how to study. I suppose overall my opinions on this haven't changed throughout my life. I can still see the angry six-year-old in me coming to the surface when I have classes about this. All I can hope for is that the coming weeks will be more related to psychology, and less about how to study.
In school, my life was hell. I was bullied for being top of the class (I still get snide comments and derision from a lot of people - difference is now I just don't care and I'm proud of what I'm doing), and I simply wasn't learning. The people who know me realise that I love to be stretched. I'm not happy unless I'm really learning things. I like being confused, then finding a solution to a problem. Home education allowed me to do this. If I found a topic interesting, I'd go and learn about it. I'd often give myself projects to do, and would devote myself to asking questions and finding the answers myself. I think this is perhaps a reason why I want to go into a research career. There's only so much you can learn from existing knowledge and the chance to create new knowledge is a step up. I digress...
When I negotiated my way out of home educated life and into college, I thought that the step from GCSEs to A-Levels would allow me to be stretched once more. To be honest, it didn't really happen like that. Sure, I worked hard and learnt a lot, but it wasn't necessarily 'difficult'. Exams are always something I've done well at - they don't test your knowledge per se, but rather they test your ability to pass exams. Finding out the best exam technique is what gets you the marks, and this is something I've figured out early on.
Of course, once I'd gained everything I possibly could from college, I moved on to university. I never wanted to go to university. I didn't think it was for me - I thought it was for those rich kids who had previously had a private education. Still, one of my tutors in college suggested that I'd find it a challenge - I'd learn a lot, and meet like-minded people who also wanted to learn. So, I applied.
Now, before you get the wrong idea after reading the following pages, let me be clear on something. I don't regret coming to university. Far from it. It's been one of the best experiences of my life, and I'm eternally grateful to that tutor who told me to go. I've met some amazing and inspiring people, and it's given me a stepping stone for my future.
However, I don't feel I've been challenged enough. My placement year was perhaps an exception to this notion - when you're on your first day of placement and you have to run an EEG with a seriously ill patient, that's a challenge, believe me. During the rest of the time, I think I could have learned more and done more. I'm not saying that the three (nearly four) years have been completely without their difficult moments - negotiating six exams in second year was definitely a tricky one - but overall I feel that most of my degree has been repetition.
Year 1 for example was pretty much a repeat of my A-levels, the only difference being statistics (which I had never done before). Even then, statistics wasn't difficult (stem and leaf diagrams and calculating the mean were a large part of the exam I took). To be honest, I had expected this anyway. On a personal note, I think the social side was more of a challenge than the academic. Living with housemates who were the complete opposite to me in terms of personality, and trying to find a group of friends who were similar to me were more difficult than the coursework. In first year, we also had to take classes about our studying technique. This was a bit of a contentious point for me - after eight years of being home educated, I was well aware of what worked well for me and what didn't work so well. I didn't need to do a quiz about 'what kind of learner' I was. I didn't need to be told that an essay had a beginning, a middle and an end (surely this is common knowledge anyway?). No matter, I'd assumed it was just part of the process of settling in to university life.
Year 2 was challenging in terms of the work load, rather than the work content. Statistics brought with it group work, which was fine on some levels, and not so fine on other levels. When you're working with someone who's 'aiming for 40%' and you're looking for high firsts, you have to expect problems. What was surprising, was the fact that we still had 'study skills' seminars. Yes, again we were told that an essay had a beginning a middle and an end. Apparently the aim of these seminars was to help us become independent learners...
Now that I'm in my final year, I thought that perhaps I'd finally see an end to the whole 'independent learner classes' thing. Not so. Last week, I had a lecture about 'what is a journal article', in which we learnt how to read and evaluate articles. This surprised me, as I figured that most students should be able to do this by their final year of university, and something very wrong must have happened if students were incapable. Still, it was the first week and perhaps things would be different.
Well, this week it seems I have a lecture about 'how to write an essay'. Over the course of my degree, I have lost count of the number of essays I have written. I knew from the outset that an essay has a beginning, a middle and an end. I'd be astounded if anyone on my course didn't realise this. To be honest, I find lectures like this less helpful, more patronising. I've never been very good at 'learning' things I already knew. I remember when I was around 6 years old coming out of a class and throwing my homework at my Mum because we'd been asked to spell things like 'I' 'We' 'Are' 'You' and 'A'. I knew all of this, and it made me angry that we were going over it all again. I suppose I still feel the same way.
Similarly, last week we had an introduction to a module that I already disliked - even before starting. In the introduction, it was explained to us that a lot of psychology graduates lacked the ability to be self-directed learners. Thus, we were taking this module to be taught how to be self-directed. Can anyone else see the flaw in this?
Apparently, my university can't see the issue, so I'll spell it out. In order to become a self-directed or independent learner, you have figure things out on your own. You shouldn't be spoon-fed information. Going away and finding this out for yourself is important. So, having someone teach you how to learn by yourself is a bit of a contradiction in terms. Perhaps I'm too cynical, but I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks this way. In any case, by the final year of university, I expected people to know how to study. I suppose overall my opinions on this haven't changed throughout my life. I can still see the angry six-year-old in me coming to the surface when I have classes about this. All I can hope for is that the coming weeks will be more related to psychology, and less about how to study.
Monday, 7 October 2013
Tied up in Knots
Ok, if you follow my motorsport blog you'll realise that two updates in a row is very rare for me. However this morning I think a combination of sleep deprivation, too much sugar at breakfast and overthinking has led me to write this.
As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I'm applying for PhDs this year with a view to start next autumn. I've decided to move away from psychology and towards neuroscience, as I find biological explanations of behaviour and illness more tangible. That's not to say that psychological explanations and theories don't have their place (believe me, they do), I'm just more interested in the underlying physical processes behind these.
My current university isn't great for neuroscience. Yes, I worked predominantly in clinical neuroscience across my placement and will do so for my final year project, however the resources we have are severely limited, which makes working in this field somewhat harder. So, I've decided to move away. Or, at least, I'm trying to.
As some of you will be aware (and probably sick of hearing about - sorry!), I'm currently mulling over my best choice of PhD. I'm aiming for good universities with excellent international reputations for neuroscience, and universities which offer fully funded four-year programmes. Until a couple of weeks ago, I'd excluded universities outside of London - and that includes Oxford and Cambridge. They just didn't appeal to me. After nearly four years in the same small city, I wanted to move somewhere that would have plenty of things to see and do. After looking into my options, I'd set my heart on one university in particular, and was set to apply for a few programmes there. I'd also applied for a 'back-up' option. So far so good, you'd think.
Well, as with everything in life, it's never that straightforward. I had a chat with my academic supervisor a few weeks back. After telling him that, yes, I was sure I didn't want to stay at my university, he agreed to be one of my referees for my applications. Great. However, he then told me that I should really be applying to Oxford. Or Cambridge. Or Harvard. That's when things suddenly became less clear, and led me to today's predicament.
Alright, Harvard I excluded immediately. While it's one of the best universities and neuroscience labs in the world, I didn't want to spend five years in a country so far away. I enjoy going home on the weekend to see my family (and watch F1), and I'm reluctant to give that up. Plus, the funding situation was incredibly unclear. However, Oxford and Cambridge - they could be good options.
I'd initially excluded Oxbridge because I simply didn't want to live there. A few days after my supervisor's initial suggestion, I had returned to my previous plan of applying to my chosen London university. Then, my supervisor suggested it again - more persuasively this time. In hindsight, I should have asked him to convince me why Oxbridge was a better choice than London, other than the name. Yeah, I'm a good student and I should be applying for the best universities, but why specifically those ones? No doubt, I'll ask him again in time. After this second suggestion, I looked more closely at what courses and programmes the two universities had to offer. Cambridge, it seems, doesn't offer the four year programmes I'm after. So, that was another university excluded. I was still left with Oxford though, and this time there's a programme which has potential. My dilemma remained.
Once again, I stopped thinking about PhDs for a while, and decided to ignore the possibility of going to Oxford. I'd simply stick to my original plan of the London universities. Problem solved? Of course not. When I went to my presentation evening last week, a second lecturer suggested I should go to Oxbridge. Again, being the fool that I am, I didn't ask why I should go there. This time, I've remained in a genuine quandary about my best option, and now the choice of which university to go to is turning over and over in my mind most of the time. From the programmes I like, three are equally good options. Two are in London, and one is in Oxford. I just have no idea which one is the best option.
The simple solution is to make a list of what I do and don't like about each programme. I tried that, and all come out equal on paper. You know that old saying about listening to either your head or your heart (which is, by the way, nonsense - everything comes from your brain)? Well, both of mine are stuck for ideas. I'm on my own. I suppose my next step is to ask someone else why Oxford is a better option (if, indeed, it is). I have a rough idea of who to speak to, so hopefully that will give me a bit more clarity. If not, then I guess I'll still be just as confused right up until I get any offers for places. Actually, I'll probably still be in this dilemma even when I get offers. I just don't know.
I know, I shouldn't complain. It's a great position to be in. Which of the best universities shall I choose? Wonderful! However, it's stressful. Really stressful. I don't know which way to turn or whose advice to believe. I'm currently anxiety personified. I'm sure whatever I choose, there will be things I like and things I dislike - that's life. But, I don't want to forever regret missing an opportunity, or spend another four years living somewhere I don't particularly enjoy. Sure, my future won't be decided in a day. Following a PhD, I have to do at least one postdoc, and I could go to the 'unchosen' university. But, which is the best option now?
Of course, all this is assuming that I even get any offers. It could be that only one university accepts me, in which case my problem is solved! If nobody accepts me, then I guess I have a whole new kind of problem. I try not to think about that one. I expect I'll apply everywhere, but I fear I'm delaying an inevitable choice. All I have to hope for now is a sudden epiphany, a eureka moment. However, with my brain the way it currently is, I doubt this will happen any time soon.
Overall, it's quite a funny situation. My brain can't decide where to go and learn more about how brains work. I expect one day, I'll look back and laugh. Right now, I'll sit here confused for a while longer.
As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I'm applying for PhDs this year with a view to start next autumn. I've decided to move away from psychology and towards neuroscience, as I find biological explanations of behaviour and illness more tangible. That's not to say that psychological explanations and theories don't have their place (believe me, they do), I'm just more interested in the underlying physical processes behind these.
My current university isn't great for neuroscience. Yes, I worked predominantly in clinical neuroscience across my placement and will do so for my final year project, however the resources we have are severely limited, which makes working in this field somewhat harder. So, I've decided to move away. Or, at least, I'm trying to.
As some of you will be aware (and probably sick of hearing about - sorry!), I'm currently mulling over my best choice of PhD. I'm aiming for good universities with excellent international reputations for neuroscience, and universities which offer fully funded four-year programmes. Until a couple of weeks ago, I'd excluded universities outside of London - and that includes Oxford and Cambridge. They just didn't appeal to me. After nearly four years in the same small city, I wanted to move somewhere that would have plenty of things to see and do. After looking into my options, I'd set my heart on one university in particular, and was set to apply for a few programmes there. I'd also applied for a 'back-up' option. So far so good, you'd think.
Well, as with everything in life, it's never that straightforward. I had a chat with my academic supervisor a few weeks back. After telling him that, yes, I was sure I didn't want to stay at my university, he agreed to be one of my referees for my applications. Great. However, he then told me that I should really be applying to Oxford. Or Cambridge. Or Harvard. That's when things suddenly became less clear, and led me to today's predicament.
Alright, Harvard I excluded immediately. While it's one of the best universities and neuroscience labs in the world, I didn't want to spend five years in a country so far away. I enjoy going home on the weekend to see my family (and watch F1), and I'm reluctant to give that up. Plus, the funding situation was incredibly unclear. However, Oxford and Cambridge - they could be good options.
I'd initially excluded Oxbridge because I simply didn't want to live there. A few days after my supervisor's initial suggestion, I had returned to my previous plan of applying to my chosen London university. Then, my supervisor suggested it again - more persuasively this time. In hindsight, I should have asked him to convince me why Oxbridge was a better choice than London, other than the name. Yeah, I'm a good student and I should be applying for the best universities, but why specifically those ones? No doubt, I'll ask him again in time. After this second suggestion, I looked more closely at what courses and programmes the two universities had to offer. Cambridge, it seems, doesn't offer the four year programmes I'm after. So, that was another university excluded. I was still left with Oxford though, and this time there's a programme which has potential. My dilemma remained.
Once again, I stopped thinking about PhDs for a while, and decided to ignore the possibility of going to Oxford. I'd simply stick to my original plan of the London universities. Problem solved? Of course not. When I went to my presentation evening last week, a second lecturer suggested I should go to Oxbridge. Again, being the fool that I am, I didn't ask why I should go there. This time, I've remained in a genuine quandary about my best option, and now the choice of which university to go to is turning over and over in my mind most of the time. From the programmes I like, three are equally good options. Two are in London, and one is in Oxford. I just have no idea which one is the best option.
The simple solution is to make a list of what I do and don't like about each programme. I tried that, and all come out equal on paper. You know that old saying about listening to either your head or your heart (which is, by the way, nonsense - everything comes from your brain)? Well, both of mine are stuck for ideas. I'm on my own. I suppose my next step is to ask someone else why Oxford is a better option (if, indeed, it is). I have a rough idea of who to speak to, so hopefully that will give me a bit more clarity. If not, then I guess I'll still be just as confused right up until I get any offers for places. Actually, I'll probably still be in this dilemma even when I get offers. I just don't know.
I know, I shouldn't complain. It's a great position to be in. Which of the best universities shall I choose? Wonderful! However, it's stressful. Really stressful. I don't know which way to turn or whose advice to believe. I'm currently anxiety personified. I'm sure whatever I choose, there will be things I like and things I dislike - that's life. But, I don't want to forever regret missing an opportunity, or spend another four years living somewhere I don't particularly enjoy. Sure, my future won't be decided in a day. Following a PhD, I have to do at least one postdoc, and I could go to the 'unchosen' university. But, which is the best option now?
Of course, all this is assuming that I even get any offers. It could be that only one university accepts me, in which case my problem is solved! If nobody accepts me, then I guess I have a whole new kind of problem. I try not to think about that one. I expect I'll apply everywhere, but I fear I'm delaying an inevitable choice. All I have to hope for now is a sudden epiphany, a eureka moment. However, with my brain the way it currently is, I doubt this will happen any time soon.
Overall, it's quite a funny situation. My brain can't decide where to go and learn more about how brains work. I expect one day, I'll look back and laugh. Right now, I'll sit here confused for a while longer.
Sunday, 6 October 2013
Catharsis or Madness
Today I was in the mood to write. Most of what I do is surrounded by writing - my coursework for example. I also write a motorsport blog (Musings of a Motorsport Geek), from which some of you may already know me. I've always been generally good at writing, although I don't always recognise this in myself.
I figure that most of you reading this already know me (if, indeed, anyone at all is reading!). But for those of you who don't know who I am, let me give you a brief overview. I'm a final year psychology student at university, and I'm hoping to progress to a PhD in neuroscience over the coming year. I've been at university for four years now, having done a placement in the 2012-2013 academic year. I learnt a lot from the placement year, more than perhaps I have learnt throughout the rest of my degree. Lots of my friends graduated last year, and so I'm finding that this year I'm pretty much on my own and I have to admit, I've not been looking forward to it. Part of the reasoning behind this blog is to ramble on about university, hopefully without boring everyone to death. I thought it would be interesting to see how my opinions change over the course of my final year, and hopefully one day I'll look back and find it funny how I used to think. We'll see, it's a long way off.
My university experience to date has been a rollercoaster (for want of a better cliche). My first year was hell, I'll admit. Those of you who have known me for many years realise I'm crazy to the core, but not in the stereotypical student partying/drinking way. Think more along the lines of nose in a book/quiet madness. Thus, when I was living in a student house during year 1, I didn't particularly fit in. I even caught my housemates talking about me behind my back one evening ('She's so weird, she always stays in her room studying!'). I suppose I was perceived as a bit of a recluse (I probably still am, come to think of it!), but all I really did to offend people was read books and write essays. I always tried to be friendly towards my housemates, even when they were having parties until 3am when I had lectures the next day. Thankfully, I survived the first year on campus, and in my second year I moved in with good friends, so the following two years were great (if completely insane!).
My placement year was fantastic. Sure, I had the usual ups and downs (who doesn't?) but overall I learnt a lot and gained a lot of experience. I even published an article about hemispatial neglect (a disorder of attention following a stroke which leaves patients unable to attend to stimuli contralateral to the site of injury - following all this?). On Friday last week, I presented a poster about my placement experience, and it was nice to hear what other students were doing. It was also pretty good hearing from a lecturer (who's quite a harsh marker by the way) that my writing was 'exceptional', and I should apply to PhDs at Oxbridge. Confidence boosts are fun, although the accompanying pressure to apply to particular universities is not so great. No matter, decisions don't have to be made in a day.
So now we reach my fourth year. I've chosen to take modules in clinical psychology, developmental psychology and neuroscience - although having learnt so much on placement, I'm doubtful I'll find anything very exciting in these classes. I also have very little coursework (only eight assignments, seven of which are due in next term), so aside from dissertation/final year project work (running a randomised clinical trial) I'm not so sure I'll have a lot to do. On the plus side, the free time means I'm able to take a French course (call me crazy) and I'll have enough money to perhaps go away and see new things. Time will tell.
In other news, I had my first lectures last week, and they were the usual introductory things that tell you very little and let you go home early. I wasn't overly impressed with what I saw to be honest - although to be fair I was pulled out of my first lecture by my supervisor (long story!). I figure that I'm now very clear on where I want to go in my career, and having had a taster last year I'm reluctant to go back to learning about bearded men pontificating about how they think the mind works. I'm hopeful that the year will improve and I'll learn a few things, although at the same time I may be overly optimistic here. I'll keep an open mind and see how things progress.
Now, my PhD applications. I'll probably keep this part obscure over the coming weeks (those to whom I am close will know about all of this, and the rest of you will hear when I'm certain of what's happening), but let's just say I'm applying to multiple universities to undertake a project in clinical neuroscience. I'm still waiting for a lot of applications to open, but once the forms are in the waiting should be over, and my sanity restored somewhat.
Lastly, I feel I should write a bit of a disclaimer. I have to confess that my academic career hasn't often won me friends, as I suppose people can sometimes think I'm arrogant or obnoxious. I think the centre to this problem lies in the fact that I often write about my achievements, and without the cues provided by face-to-face interaction you can't tell that I'm often surprised by how well I do, even if people tell me I should be used to it by now. I don't brag, but I am proud of what I've done to date and when I'm saying this through the medium of text these two may seem similar. So, if at any point during this blog you think I'm being obnoxious, arrogant or anything else of that ilk, please don't be offended. It's likely that I've become over-excited about some piece of coursework, and want to share my excitement. We'll see what the coming year holds...
I figure that most of you reading this already know me (if, indeed, anyone at all is reading!). But for those of you who don't know who I am, let me give you a brief overview. I'm a final year psychology student at university, and I'm hoping to progress to a PhD in neuroscience over the coming year. I've been at university for four years now, having done a placement in the 2012-2013 academic year. I learnt a lot from the placement year, more than perhaps I have learnt throughout the rest of my degree. Lots of my friends graduated last year, and so I'm finding that this year I'm pretty much on my own and I have to admit, I've not been looking forward to it. Part of the reasoning behind this blog is to ramble on about university, hopefully without boring everyone to death. I thought it would be interesting to see how my opinions change over the course of my final year, and hopefully one day I'll look back and find it funny how I used to think. We'll see, it's a long way off.
My university experience to date has been a rollercoaster (for want of a better cliche). My first year was hell, I'll admit. Those of you who have known me for many years realise I'm crazy to the core, but not in the stereotypical student partying/drinking way. Think more along the lines of nose in a book/quiet madness. Thus, when I was living in a student house during year 1, I didn't particularly fit in. I even caught my housemates talking about me behind my back one evening ('She's so weird, she always stays in her room studying!'). I suppose I was perceived as a bit of a recluse (I probably still am, come to think of it!), but all I really did to offend people was read books and write essays. I always tried to be friendly towards my housemates, even when they were having parties until 3am when I had lectures the next day. Thankfully, I survived the first year on campus, and in my second year I moved in with good friends, so the following two years were great (if completely insane!).
My placement year was fantastic. Sure, I had the usual ups and downs (who doesn't?) but overall I learnt a lot and gained a lot of experience. I even published an article about hemispatial neglect (a disorder of attention following a stroke which leaves patients unable to attend to stimuli contralateral to the site of injury - following all this?). On Friday last week, I presented a poster about my placement experience, and it was nice to hear what other students were doing. It was also pretty good hearing from a lecturer (who's quite a harsh marker by the way) that my writing was 'exceptional', and I should apply to PhDs at Oxbridge. Confidence boosts are fun, although the accompanying pressure to apply to particular universities is not so great. No matter, decisions don't have to be made in a day.
So now we reach my fourth year. I've chosen to take modules in clinical psychology, developmental psychology and neuroscience - although having learnt so much on placement, I'm doubtful I'll find anything very exciting in these classes. I also have very little coursework (only eight assignments, seven of which are due in next term), so aside from dissertation/final year project work (running a randomised clinical trial) I'm not so sure I'll have a lot to do. On the plus side, the free time means I'm able to take a French course (call me crazy) and I'll have enough money to perhaps go away and see new things. Time will tell.
In other news, I had my first lectures last week, and they were the usual introductory things that tell you very little and let you go home early. I wasn't overly impressed with what I saw to be honest - although to be fair I was pulled out of my first lecture by my supervisor (long story!). I figure that I'm now very clear on where I want to go in my career, and having had a taster last year I'm reluctant to go back to learning about bearded men pontificating about how they think the mind works. I'm hopeful that the year will improve and I'll learn a few things, although at the same time I may be overly optimistic here. I'll keep an open mind and see how things progress.
Now, my PhD applications. I'll probably keep this part obscure over the coming weeks (those to whom I am close will know about all of this, and the rest of you will hear when I'm certain of what's happening), but let's just say I'm applying to multiple universities to undertake a project in clinical neuroscience. I'm still waiting for a lot of applications to open, but once the forms are in the waiting should be over, and my sanity restored somewhat.
Lastly, I feel I should write a bit of a disclaimer. I have to confess that my academic career hasn't often won me friends, as I suppose people can sometimes think I'm arrogant or obnoxious. I think the centre to this problem lies in the fact that I often write about my achievements, and without the cues provided by face-to-face interaction you can't tell that I'm often surprised by how well I do, even if people tell me I should be used to it by now. I don't brag, but I am proud of what I've done to date and when I'm saying this through the medium of text these two may seem similar. So, if at any point during this blog you think I'm being obnoxious, arrogant or anything else of that ilk, please don't be offended. It's likely that I've become over-excited about some piece of coursework, and want to share my excitement. We'll see what the coming year holds...
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