(no subject)
The Dissertation-Writing Process: A Review of Two Scholarly Articles
Prior to enrolling in the doctoral program at Northcentral University, I was concerned that I was not suited for a program of this caliber. How would I infuse my own learning and writing style, my unique understanding of the world, into any form of research worthy of this level of achievement? Could I bring myself to the task? Or would I have to pretend to be someone else for the next few years?
I estimate that I am one of those unpredictable risk-takers, eccentric, and capricious. I am a person who asks “why” for no good reason other than to make people feel ill at ease. I am impulsive, less reticent than, shall we say, a guest on Jerry Springer. Fundamentally, I am the antithesis of the scholarly, bearded gentleman in the ivory tower. I’m more the bloke on the roller coaster with his hands in the air.
Because these are the claims I make about my own character, the questions I am asking myself seem quite reasonable. But after reviewing two scholarly articles on the subject of dissertation writing (Reibschleger 2001; Saban 2000), I am now convinced that there is not only hope for me, but also a legitimate compromise.
Reibschleger (2001) and Saban (2000) each applies their own insightful, yet conflicting perspective to the process of writing the doctoral dissertation. Reibschleger presents what she refers to as an “insider” point of view of the “sometimes paranoid” process of writing the dissertation (p. 579). Saban, on the other hand, focuses his reader on the method by which he gathered his research data, while an investigator in residence at a modest, village school named “Rainbow.” (We can only imagine that a school named Rainbow can only be found in a small, New England township named “Yummy.”)
Both authors allow an aerial tour of an academic world few will ever see. And both articles have their own particular merits. At least one, however, left me wondering: “Will my parachute fail, after I take my own leap into writing a dissertation? Will I be sent spiraling to the ground?”
Aside from the link Reibschleger (2001) and Saban (2000) share in relating their experiences of having both written a dissertation, the parallel between these two articles seems to end there. Reibschleger supplies her reader with seven lessons she learned while pursuing the doctor’s degree. Each of her lessons, however, reads like the directions to operating an iron maiden. In fact, her tone seems, at times, less anecdotal and more emblematic of all dissertation writing and research experiences that have ever been and ever will be.
In her opening paragraph, Reibschleger (2001) dedicates the article to “doctoral students who are sweating over another draft of a rising pile of discarded dissertation drafts [italics added]” (p. 579). Her dedication, however well intentioned, seems to be bent on leaving her readers, who may be in the midst of preparing for some portion of the dissertation, anticipating inevitable victimization by a faceless, gratuitously cruel review committee. Caught up in a whirlwind of disappointment, left languishing in the process, students in Reibschleger’s world can expect to be examined, poked, prodded, and reexamined, ad nauseum.
Enter Saban (2000) and his Rainbow school--a place full of happy children and smiling faculty, ready at anytime, day or night, to pitch in, hold and comfort one another, and make everything they touch turn, well, yummy. Saban reflects that the purpose of his article is to provide “an example of how to use the self-reflection and writing processes as a means of personal and professional growth” (p. 1). It is in those very words I found salvation, a denouement, a sheer contrast to the dismal prison Reibschleger (2001) alerts her reader to anticipate. In Saban’s exposé I found the fresh scent of Febreeze and a warm serving of Brie with a pecan, Kahlua, and brown sugar topping. Saban (2000) offered me hope that my parachute will, indeed, open. Not only that, it will open to expose a rainbow of color and, of course, warm Brie.
Far removed from Reibschleger (2001), Saban seems to have danced and sung his way through his dissertation research. He seems to have been celebrating his learning adventure, delighting in the pursuit of knowledge and his contribution to scholarly research. In contrast, Reibschleger’s exercise in futility culminates into much the same relief one would feel after escaping from a prisoner of war camp. (It is sometimes not the joy of freedom that is so great as the glee of tricking the guards.)
One of the more inviting aspects of Saban’s 2000 article is his use of the constructivist approach to gathering research data. This system of fact gathering may be likened to picking daisies in a field and then asking random people which one is prettiest. This sort of research is ever so inviting to me. While Reibschleger (2001) writes of “one-tailed T-scores, low statistical power, missing theory, statistical procedure assumption testing,” (p. 580), Saban writes of the “qualitative case study” (p.1). Contrary to Saban’s invitation to learn, Reibschleger’s approach seems to be akin to nailing railroad spikes into one’s head, for no other reason than to measure the room in which the incident occurred.
I find I am more like Saban. Throughout the article, I imagined Saban with a smile on his face, like a big, redheaded house cat that has made friends with a wolf. Contented. No longer in fear of h/er life. On the other hand, I imagined Reibschleger with her finger in an electrical socket. (I am a visual learner.)
I am encouraged by Saban. I know a majority of people believe that “[the dissertation process] is a painfully difficult, page-by-page, decision-by-decision development sequence” (Reibschleger, p. 581) and less of an “[honor] to know that I have made a contribution” (Saban, p. 6). But I am formulating an hypothesis. I know there is a compromise.
I realize now that the fear and dread articulated in Reibschleger (2001) article may be, in fact, her way of resting laurels on her own head. And I realize that Saban (2000), who states that he is “conducting his doctoral research in the United States” (p.1) and that he is an “international doctoral student” (p.3) may not be held to the same standards as Reibschleger describes, upon returning to his unnamed homeland. But, I know there is a compromise, although needing much more investigation, to be found in the delicate balance between Saban’s and Reibschleger’s worlds. It may be that I will find a way to build a roller coaster around the spiral of an ivory tower. I may be able to complete my dissertation as a nonconformist, all the while being ever reverent of the very strict rules imposed on what is evidently more of a process than a learning adventure.
References
Reibschleger, J. (2001). Writing a dissertation: Lessons learned. Families in Society: The
Journal of Contemporary Human Services, 82 (6), 579-582. [Electronic version]
Article retrieved May 22, 2005, from WilsonSelectPlus Web site: http://firstsearch.oclc.org/WebZ/FSFETCH?fetchtype=fullrecord:sessionid=sp01sw05-44463-e9fqwcj2-l5y798:entitypagenum=3:0:recno=7:resultset=1:format=FI:next=html/record.html:bad=error/badfetch.html:entitytoprecno=7:entitycurrecno=7:numrecs=1
Saban, A. (2000). Professional growth through self-reflection and writing. Education,
120 (3), 512-518 [Electronic version]. Article retrieved May 22, 2005, from
WilsonSelectPlus Web site:
Prior to enrolling in the doctoral program at Northcentral University, I was concerned that I was not suited for a program of this caliber. How would I infuse my own learning and writing style, my unique understanding of the world, into any form of research worthy of this level of achievement? Could I bring myself to the task? Or would I have to pretend to be someone else for the next few years?
I estimate that I am one of those unpredictable risk-takers, eccentric, and capricious. I am a person who asks “why” for no good reason other than to make people feel ill at ease. I am impulsive, less reticent than, shall we say, a guest on Jerry Springer. Fundamentally, I am the antithesis of the scholarly, bearded gentleman in the ivory tower. I’m more the bloke on the roller coaster with his hands in the air.
Because these are the claims I make about my own character, the questions I am asking myself seem quite reasonable. But after reviewing two scholarly articles on the subject of dissertation writing (Reibschleger 2001; Saban 2000), I am now convinced that there is not only hope for me, but also a legitimate compromise.
Reibschleger (2001) and Saban (2000) each applies their own insightful, yet conflicting perspective to the process of writing the doctoral dissertation. Reibschleger presents what she refers to as an “insider” point of view of the “sometimes paranoid” process of writing the dissertation (p. 579). Saban, on the other hand, focuses his reader on the method by which he gathered his research data, while an investigator in residence at a modest, village school named “Rainbow.” (We can only imagine that a school named Rainbow can only be found in a small, New England township named “Yummy.”)
Both authors allow an aerial tour of an academic world few will ever see. And both articles have their own particular merits. At least one, however, left me wondering: “Will my parachute fail, after I take my own leap into writing a dissertation? Will I be sent spiraling to the ground?”
Aside from the link Reibschleger (2001) and Saban (2000) share in relating their experiences of having both written a dissertation, the parallel between these two articles seems to end there. Reibschleger supplies her reader with seven lessons she learned while pursuing the doctor’s degree. Each of her lessons, however, reads like the directions to operating an iron maiden. In fact, her tone seems, at times, less anecdotal and more emblematic of all dissertation writing and research experiences that have ever been and ever will be.
In her opening paragraph, Reibschleger (2001) dedicates the article to “doctoral students who are sweating over another draft of a rising pile of discarded dissertation drafts [italics added]” (p. 579). Her dedication, however well intentioned, seems to be bent on leaving her readers, who may be in the midst of preparing for some portion of the dissertation, anticipating inevitable victimization by a faceless, gratuitously cruel review committee. Caught up in a whirlwind of disappointment, left languishing in the process, students in Reibschleger’s world can expect to be examined, poked, prodded, and reexamined, ad nauseum.
Enter Saban (2000) and his Rainbow school--a place full of happy children and smiling faculty, ready at anytime, day or night, to pitch in, hold and comfort one another, and make everything they touch turn, well, yummy. Saban reflects that the purpose of his article is to provide “an example of how to use the self-reflection and writing processes as a means of personal and professional growth” (p. 1). It is in those very words I found salvation, a denouement, a sheer contrast to the dismal prison Reibschleger (2001) alerts her reader to anticipate. In Saban’s exposé I found the fresh scent of Febreeze and a warm serving of Brie with a pecan, Kahlua, and brown sugar topping. Saban (2000) offered me hope that my parachute will, indeed, open. Not only that, it will open to expose a rainbow of color and, of course, warm Brie.
Far removed from Reibschleger (2001), Saban seems to have danced and sung his way through his dissertation research. He seems to have been celebrating his learning adventure, delighting in the pursuit of knowledge and his contribution to scholarly research. In contrast, Reibschleger’s exercise in futility culminates into much the same relief one would feel after escaping from a prisoner of war camp. (It is sometimes not the joy of freedom that is so great as the glee of tricking the guards.)
One of the more inviting aspects of Saban’s 2000 article is his use of the constructivist approach to gathering research data. This system of fact gathering may be likened to picking daisies in a field and then asking random people which one is prettiest. This sort of research is ever so inviting to me. While Reibschleger (2001) writes of “one-tailed T-scores, low statistical power, missing theory, statistical procedure assumption testing,” (p. 580), Saban writes of the “qualitative case study” (p.1). Contrary to Saban’s invitation to learn, Reibschleger’s approach seems to be akin to nailing railroad spikes into one’s head, for no other reason than to measure the room in which the incident occurred.
I find I am more like Saban. Throughout the article, I imagined Saban with a smile on his face, like a big, redheaded house cat that has made friends with a wolf. Contented. No longer in fear of h/er life. On the other hand, I imagined Reibschleger with her finger in an electrical socket. (I am a visual learner.)
I am encouraged by Saban. I know a majority of people believe that “[the dissertation process] is a painfully difficult, page-by-page, decision-by-decision development sequence” (Reibschleger, p. 581) and less of an “[honor] to know that I have made a contribution” (Saban, p. 6). But I am formulating an hypothesis. I know there is a compromise.
I realize now that the fear and dread articulated in Reibschleger (2001) article may be, in fact, her way of resting laurels on her own head. And I realize that Saban (2000), who states that he is “conducting his doctoral research in the United States” (p.1) and that he is an “international doctoral student” (p.3) may not be held to the same standards as Reibschleger describes, upon returning to his unnamed homeland. But, I know there is a compromise, although needing much more investigation, to be found in the delicate balance between Saban’s and Reibschleger’s worlds. It may be that I will find a way to build a roller coaster around the spiral of an ivory tower. I may be able to complete my dissertation as a nonconformist, all the while being ever reverent of the very strict rules imposed on what is evidently more of a process than a learning adventure.
References
Reibschleger, J. (2001). Writing a dissertation: Lessons learned. Families in Society: The
Journal of Contemporary Human Services, 82 (6), 579-582. [Electronic version]
Article retrieved May 22, 2005, from WilsonSelectPlus Web site: http://firstsearch.oclc.org/WebZ/FSFETCH?fetchtype=fullrecord:sessionid=sp01sw05-44463-e9fqwcj2-l5y798:entitypagenum=3:0:recno=7:resultset=1:format=FI:next=html/record.html:bad=error/badfetch.html:entitytoprecno=7:entitycurrecno=7:numrecs=1
Saban, A. (2000). Professional growth through self-reflection and writing. Education,
120 (3), 512-518 [Electronic version]. Article retrieved May 22, 2005, from
WilsonSelectPlus Web site: