By Roseanna Doughty |

A few weeks ago I had a major breakthrough- I finally worked up the courage to ask a question in a lecture. Small victories! Granted I went bright pink in the face and there was a considerable amount of spluttering, but eventually I managed to spit it out. Unsurprisingly the speaker, who had given an excellent paper, did not laugh in my face and instead gave me an equally excellent, in-depth and useful answer.

Since I started my PhD in September the ability to open my mouth in an academic setting, let alone formulating a question, without turning a wonderful shade of magenta has eluded me. So I have become extremely adept at listening, and while this is an honourable quality I am increasingly aware that I need to find my voice. Asking questions is after all an essential element of the historian’s craft. I am by no means a quiet person though, in fact when I pitched the idea of this blog to friends and family they openly laughed (Rude!). Like many historians I suffer from sometimes having too much to say, but over the last few months nerves have got the better of me. Even in social situations I have often elected to stay silent for fear of coming across as ill-informed; although I do find it easier to interrogate speakers over a glass of wine than across the seminar room. There are of course benefits to waiting until the mandatory post-seminar pub visit as it can facilitate… dare I say networking. Once off-duty there is certainly more scope for further conversation, which for obvious reasons can’t be given free rein in the seminar Q and A sessions.

Nevertheless, I still feel I need to master the art of the seminar question; not least for the sake of my liver. Yet providing I manage to come up with a question on the spot I find myself plagued with doubts. What if they answered my question in the presentation and I didn’t pick up on it? What if I woefully misunderstood the whole paper? What if in those two minutes I was daydreaming about Swayze (other celebrities are available) they discussed this? What if this is just a really silly question? I don’t think I am alone in this- chatting to those older, wiser and much closer to the viva it is reassuring to hear that they too suffer from the same malady. Nonetheless it is still easy to feel like the only one in the corner especially when everyone around you seems so self-confident.

I have yet to re-enact my recent battle, but while it may be a long time before I manage the metaphorical lift at least I have made a start. Unfortunately I don’t think a Patrick Swayze character is going to be on hand to coax me into the spotlight; mores the pity.

Dirty Dancing

 

(Image 1: www.wikimedia.org; Image 2: Tourism Victoria Flickr Account)