On August 20th I’ll walk across a stage and someone will read out my thesis then call me “Doctor”. My “wanky hat” (thanks for that name Tim Minchin) arrived last week.

And honestly? Part of me is still waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say there’s been a mistake.

I’ve spent years learning and teaching others that this feeling has a name (imposter syndrome) but naming it doesn’t make it disappear. What’s helped me is realising that almost everyone I admire has felt it too.

So this post is a celebration…and a message to anyone else wondering if they belong in the room: you do. You earned your seat. Take it.

Returned from my relaxing Bali “snooze-cation” and found this had arrived at the front door! Super excited. It was also way heavier than I expected.

CQUniversity’s lovely SGR team and the amazing Susan Kinnear GAICD were kind enough to allow me to use some of my prize money (from Visualise Your Thesis) to print an extra copy. That means I can gift one to my grandad! He’s been a lifelong influence and supporter to me, and also contributed chapter heading drawings for each chapter in the final version (dog themed of course). He’s 99yo so can’t attend my graduation in August but will love having his own copy.

I went through White Law Binding in Melbourne and while we did have some shipping hiccups (they used couriers please (arrrrgh) the overall product and customer service was good. They also had an easy to navigate online site and were very competitive with pricing.

At CQU they do this amazing thing (because they are a fairly small cohort of higher degree by research students) called “conferral corner”. Every time someone completes their research degree, the Dean of Graduate Research does a wonderful post on LinkedIn to celebrate. I’ve been watching conferral corner for 3.5 years now and was very stoked to make it in there the other day.

So, I am writing a short book. Because a thesis wasn’t enough! Here’s my mocked up cover.

I am l self-publishing a short book about surviving a doctorate, and it is called Show Your Working: An Honest, Practical Guide to Surviving Your PhD. My experience was pretty full on and I hit a lot of barriers and challenges….and I wish there had been something I could read with handy, authentic tips.

If you have been following along, you know I have tried to document my doctorate honestly. The wins, yes, but also the parts we usually keep quiet. The feedback that left me frozen. The job I did not get. The examiners who disagreed with each other so strongly a third had to be brought in. The strange, lonely waiting. Every single time I shared one of those harder things here or on LinkedIn, people sent me a version of the same message: thank you, nobody told me it was like this, it’s nice to know I’m not alone.

That sentence is the whole reason for the book.
We are so good at sharing the shiny outcomes, and not so good at sharing the messy middle, the rejections, and the results that are not a tidy “pass with no revisions.” I wanted to write the honest map I wish someone had handed me at the very start. Not a list of rules from on high, just one person who has recently walked the road and still has the mud on her boots.

I also bring a slightly unusual angle to it. Before academia I spent twenty years as a classroom teacher and school leader. My whole job was taking something hard and scary and breaking it down so the person in front of me could actually engage with it. It turns out that is exactly the skill set a PhD demands, so the book runs on that teacher’s lens the whole way through. Practical, kind, and refreshingly free of the toxic positivity that somehow makes you feel worse.

The book is growing straight out of this blog. Many of the posts you have read here are becoming chapters, expanded and tidied up, and each one finishes with three little features:

• A Teacher’s Note, where I reframe the challenge the way I would scaffold it for a learner.

• A Real Talk box, for the unvarnished truth about how it actually felt.

• A tiny Your One Small Thing action, because momentum beats motivation every time.

I am self-publishing on purpose. It means I get to keep the book honest, affordable, and genuinely useful.

So that is what I am quietly working on behind the scenes. And I would genuinely love your help shaping it.

Update: you can click here to read it.

Here’s the direct link as well: https://amzn.asia/d/04Fu2kdz

Officially conferred on May 25th 2026! I even got the tattoo to match the thesis.

Click here for my researchgate link to my thesis!!

After a few solid (long) days of work, I am about halfway through responding to the revision comments on my EdD thesis. That’s halfway in numbers – not actual content changes!

I have taken my supervisors advice and started with the smaller edits first before slowly working my way through the bigger sections. There are… quite a few comments, but that’s the nature of the revision stage. It’s all about strengthening the work and tightening the argument.

A quote I keep coming back to during this process is one I CONSTANTLY quote at my own students: How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.

So in thesis terms, one comment at a time.

Slowly, steadily, getting there 🐘🍴

I was asked again today about what to wear for graduations from someone who would like to wear a dress. I’m now going to expand on what I’ve learnt over 4 University grads and working at a uni. I actually wrote some of this up ages ago as a blog post and a linkedin post and it gets a fair bit of traction. I’m going to update it!

My advice:

Okay – so the most important Q is what colour is the gown and sash!? That’s your starting point.

1. In Australia our gowns for UG and Masters are generally black and open at the front, which can look very different to other countries. So your dress or clothing will be visible.
2. The gowns usually come to midi dress length. This adjusts based on how tall you are but generally halfway between knees and ankles is about right
3. With that in mind, I recommend a plain coloured dress that does not clash with your sash colour. Here’s what I wore for mine:

• undergrad light blue sash: patterned blue top and long pants NO NO NO! Wish I could redo this one. Plain colours! And my pants were dark so blended into my gown and it just didn’t work so well. I looked very stumpy. This is also why I don’t recommend ankle length skirts or dresses if you have an option – they don’t seem to work as well with the length of our gowns. If you are wearing longer pants or a longer dress because that’s your style, I actually encourage patterned pants/skirt with a plain top. This will give definition between the gown/legs but also allow the sash/bonnet to stand out.
• masters 1 – dark blue bonnet style sash: black fitted dress to just above my knees and bright red flat shoes. I also had bright red hair. This look was a good one! I love my photos from this event.
• masters 2: bright yellow sash: would have reworn a variation of the black dress style to my knees I think, ended up cancelling as it was interstate and I was in hospital. Alternatively I would have gone with something that matches yellow. What matches yellow? Maybe purple?
• Doctorate: I attended the uni known as “the parrot gown”. It’s the brightest in Australia – blue, green, gold and red! Bonkers! I also get a beautiful emerald green doctoral bonnet!! I had a few style thoughts rotate through for this one. I had a lovely purple dress which was winning for awhile (embrace the colour!) but after looking at lots of photos I went with a knee length plain black dress with a cinched in waist (and pockets!). I had to wear flats due to my back injury so went with some emerald green suede rollie flat shoes….they matched my bonnet!

A few other notes.

Hair – if you have a standard mortar board style wear your hair down or partially down. The second time my hair was up and it did not occur to me how hard it would be to get the hat on! Friends ended up having to take down part of my lovely up-do I had paid $100 for so we could get the hat on. Did not think that one through.

Shoes – please, reconsider if you want to be a baby giraffe. Wear sensible shoes you are confident and comfortable walking in. You’re probably gonna have to go up a couple of stairs and walk over a stage…don’t be the person who trips!

Dress length – I know mini dresses are the style at the moment and if you’ve got the legs friend, I envy you! Not saying don’t do it BUT be aware the gown will make a short dress look even shorter. Kinda like a dressing gown? So I would really suggest mid thigh at least and closer to knees if you can find one you love. Maxi dresses can be a bit much and have a lot of bulk at the bottom so that’s also something to consider.

Pockets – omg pockets in dresses are amazing and also mean you’re not carrying around a bag, your award, possible flowers etc. Pockets!!! One of my dresses did not have pockets so I wore bike shorts under it with deep side pockets and stuck my phone and my makeup touch up tools in each side. My dress flared out so they wouldn’t be visible.

Stockings – I didn’t mention this initially but am adding it in. I’ve gone up and down in weight in my life (as you can see in the below photos) and I always wear stockings with dresses. It covers up my chunky knees, my varicose veins and makes me feel way less self conscious. Even with the bike shorts I’ll likely have stockings! So you do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable but stockings can be as light as 7 denier now.

————- other countries ———-

If your gown doesn’t open at the front (more common in the US/UK), I still recommend a knee-length dress – your gown should ideally be longer than the dress unless you have reasons otherwise. Avoid full-length boots; ankle boots or heels/flats look better for this style of gown.

Most importantly and regardless of what you wear, take lots of photos! At my undergrad, I gave my guest tickets to a friend (no regrets – it meant her whole family came), but as a result I only have two photos….and that I do regret.

Photo my of my doctoral gown, bonnet and very plain black dress underneath

**note: originally published 25 Jan 2025, updated August 2026

In the interests of continuing my transparent doctoral journey, I recently received the examination outcome for my Doctor of Education thesis. I want to share my result because I’ve felt very lonely experiencing this the past few months…we often share about the minor and no revision outcomes (as we should!) but don’t talk about the other outcomes and the process that happens after that.

The result was major revisions – internal review, which means the thesis has successfully passed the external examination and now moves towards an “extra” final revision stage. The next step is to address the (detailed) examiner feedback before submitting the corrected thesis to an internal university panel for final approval.

This outcome took a little longer than expected. The first two examiner reports returned very different recommendations, so a third examiner was appointed. With that process unfolding over the Christmas period, the timeline stretched out more than originally planned. The thesis was submitted in October, and the reports arrived last week.

People don’t really talk about these delays or this aspect of the process and I’ve met a few people recently experiencing similar delays and feeling a bit lost – I was happy to be able to share my experience and reassure them! But also to tell them IT IS OKAY TO FEEL THE FEELS. People kept telling me to focus on something else and while I know they were trying to help, I really wish I’d been able to talk to someone who had been through this.

My three examiners have asked for a number of revisions to strengthen the presentation of the evidence and clarify aspects of the methodology. It’s a substantial amount of work, but it doesn’t change the core of the research. One thing that has really stood out to me is how much the revision stage is about refining and strengthening the work, not tearing it down.

So the next few months will be spent editing, clarifying, and polishing the final version of the thesis before it goes off to that internal panel for a final outcome.

The finish line is getting closer, and I’m incredibly grateful to my supervisors and to the many people who continue to support me along the way.

Shout out to the PhD Australia Facebook page who continue to offer wonderful (informal) support and share their own experiences.

After winning the CQUniversity 2025 Visualise Your Thesis (VYT) competition, my claymation video on reading-to-dog programs as literacy interventions has now entered the international round. It’s been such a joy seeing my little clay dog take on a life of his own and help share my research story with a wider audience.

This week, I’ve been working my networks across Facebook and LinkedIn to spread the word and encourage people to watch the video – because in the international competition, the Trending Prize is decided by views! The response has been heartwarming. Friends, colleagues, and even strangers have shared, commented, and sent messages of support.

One of the highlights was seeing the Dean of Graduate Research at my uni resharing my post to help boost visibility. It’s a small gesture that means a lot…a reminder of how supportive academic communities can be when it comes to celebrating research communication and creativity.

I was also featured in the CQU Review newsletter as well.

You can still watch (and rewatch!) the video here:

🎥 https://doi.org/10.6084/m9.figshare.30134638.v1

I’m so grateful for everyone who’s taken the time to click, view, and share. Every view not only helps in the competition but also helps raise awareness of how dogs can support reading and wellbeing in schools.

As I have been updating my progress recently I have been asked what different milestones actually mean? What is a doctoral degree? It’s not just “writing a really long book” although that’s definitely part of it. It also differs from country to country. So heres a summary in Mel-speak for you.

Here’s what the journey looks like at my university (CQU) in Australia. About I’m an EdD student, this is the same for PhD students in all faculties. The only minor difference is in Business and Law they verbally present their CoC as well as submit the written version.

👉 The early days – You start with a rough idea and spend the first months figuring out what on earth you’re actually researching. At this point it’s normal to have a lot of changes. You put together a proposal to prove the project is doable and sometimes there is compulsory coursework as well at this stage to build your skills. CQU has one self paced unit that directly leads into the CoC submission below

👉 Confirmation of Candidature – or CoC – is 6-12 months in. This is the first big hurdle. You hand over a chunky plan (mine was 16k words at the end), present it to a panel either verbally or just in writing, and basically convince them your project deserves to exist. Once you pass, you’re officially “confirmed” as a doctoral candidate. 🎉

👉 Ethics (straight after confirmation of candidature) – I have included this as a milestone because for me it was absolutely bonkers. Some people only need a uni ethics approval which can take a couple of months and then be done. I needed the uni approval first, then three different state education departments….then sector approval in each of those states (public, Catholic, independent) and then individual school and principal approval. Then each participant had to give their consent! I also hit lots of rejections here (because my research isn’t about phonics or science of reading) and had to pivot a few times.

👉 The messy middle – Data collection, fieldwork, experiments, interviews, analysing data using specific programs, writing, rewriting, doubting yourself, editing, applying feedback, more editing and then doing it all again. This is the part that can take years.

👉 The final writing stretch – Drafts, more drafts, and the dreaded “pre-submission review” where you prove the thesis is nearly ready to go to your supervisors. In my case this part was really overwhelming and I fell over a few times….but I got back up. Caffeine becomes a food group at this point.

👉 Professional proofreading – at my uni, we are allowed to use some of our funding to send our final draft to a professional proofreader approved by the university. They edit (no content review) and send it back to ensure grammar, punctuation, flow etc are up to standard.

👉 Submission day – You hand in approximately 65000 – 80000 words of your blood, sweat, and tears. Feels surreal.

👉 Examination – Experts read it (2-3 examiners usually) and send back their feedback, and you make corrections. This can take a few months. Examiners can be in Australia and international. Unlike some countries, there is no live exam or “defence” for me…just extensive written reports. Results at this stage can be:

• Pass with no revisions (unusual but it happens!)
• Pass with minor revisions (make changes within a few months and senior school of graduate research academic checks them – then you’re done!)
• Pass with major revisions (significant changes that can take up to another 6-12 months before being reviewed again by your uni staff)
• Re-examine with major revisions (significant changes that are expected to take 12 months and then need to go out to two external examiners again)
• Fail (not common in Australia and especially not at my uni which has a lot of systems in place to avoid this)

My goal? Minor revisions!!

👉 Conferral and Graduation – Conferral comes first and means you have made all your changes and they have been approved by the uni. You then get a magic email addressed to “Doctor” and the title is officially yours! Graduation can come anytime in the year or two after that if you choose to attend. I’ll be travelling interstate for mine and you can bet I’ll be wearing my wanky hat for days 😂

FYI: my thesis length was approx 70000 words and 334 pages.

In the PhD facebook group there are a lot of Qs about the enrolment and application process. That is a little bit different….and has to be answered very carefully.

Last week I hit a big milestone: I submitted my thesis for examination! After 3 years of writing, revising, and living with this project, it’s finally out of my hands. Now comes the strange in-between space – the waiting. As I’m in Australia, the next steps for me are two external examiners review it over a few months → I make any required changes → final submission → Conferral (Dr title time!) → graduation

The waiting is both a relief and a challenge. On one hand, I no longer need to wrangle chapters or chase down references. On the other, I can’t do anything to speed up the review process. So how do you stay grounded, motivated, and (dare I say it) even enjoy this period?

Here’s what’s in my personal “Thesis Submitters’ Toolkit” right now.

1. Writing… but differently

I’m giving myself space to write in ways that feel lighter and more creative. I’m drafting an article that grows out of my research, but the tone is different….more exploratory, less pressured. I’m also shaping an abstract for an upcoming conference. These smaller, bounded writing tasks keep me connected to my academic voice without dragging me back into thesis-mode.

2. Play as recovery

After months of serious, weighty writing, I’m deliberately making time for play. For me, that looks like building Lego botanical sets to add to my extensive collection. There’s something wonderfully grounding about following instructions, clicking pieces into place, and seeing progress in colour and shape rather than paragraphs. It’s productivity of another kind…creative, tactile, and completely non-academic.

3. Quiet space for myself

Submitting a thesis doesn’t just use brainpower; it takes an emotional toll too. I’m carving out time for walks, long cups of herbal tea, and catching up on books that have nothing to do with literacy, research methods, or thematic analysis. These pauses are as important as the projects. They remind me that rest isn’t wasted time, it’s a resource.

4. Looking ahead

Finally, I’m gently planning. I’m not diving into a huge new project, but I am sketching out what might come next eg papers, presentations, and the small seeds of new ideas. Having a loose plan helps channel the energy that used to go into the thesis, while still honouring the fact that right now is a time to wait.

Why share a toolkit?

If you’re in the post-submission limbo too, know that the waiting doesn’t have to feel like a void. Filling it with small, meaningful activities can make the weeks ahead feel less like “time lost” and more like part of the journey.

And if you’ve been through this stage, I’d love to know: what was in your toolkit while you waited?

My Visualise Your Thesis (VYT) 2025 entry is now live in the international gallery!

The competition showcases graduate researchers around the world, each sharing their work in short, engaging videos. My entry was the CQUniversity winner in 2025 and uses claymation to share my doctoral research on reading-to-dog programs as reading interventions 🐶📚.

You can find my video here: https://youtu.be/LCKdJK4BLo4

My Top VYT Tips:

1. Start with your story, not your data

Your audience doesn’t need every detail of your thesis….they need the heart of it. Ask: What’s the one big idea I want people to remember?

2. Think visually, not text-heavy

Use images, animation, or symbols that capture your research message. Less text = more impact. If you can say it in 3 words and a strong visual, do that instead of a paragraph. If you compare my 2024 attempt to my 2025 one you’ll see I removed nearly all text for 2025.

3. Keep it simple and engaging

Imagine explaining your work to a curious 12-year-old or a friend outside academia. That clarity will help both judges and the public connect with your entry.

4. Focus on flow

Your 60-second video should feel like a smooth journey – beginning (the problem), middle (your approach), and end (why it matters). Storyboarding helps a lot.

5. Use sound strategically

Background music or narration can lift your message, but only if it complements the visuals. Test with and without sound to make sure it still works. I also had to record-record my voiceover quite a few times to ensure the correct sections were aligned for impact.

6. Prototype and get feedback

Show your draft to people who aren’t in your field. If they “get it” quickly, you’re on the right track. If not, refine.

7. Don’t forget accessibility

Use high-contrast visuals, clear fonts, and subtitles. This not only helps reach more people, but also shows thoughtfulness in presentation. Make sure to submit a transcript as well.

8. Have fun with it

Play, experiment, and let your personality come through. A memorable creative hook (like a claymation doggo 🦮) can make your research unforgettable.

I didn’t get the job.

And I want to say it out loud, because we don’t often share the “no.” And we especially don’t do it on that shiny FB self promotion site we all use to try and get work.
We share new titles, promotions, opportunities. We rarely share the rejection email that makes your heart sink after weeks of hope.

For most of my career, I’ve been good at getting jobs. I’ve built a reputation as a highly accomplished teacher and leader, and I know my field inside out. In fact, the last few roles I had in schools I was the preferred applicant from the get go. In fact, I built a small business helping teachers to get their dream jobs – that’s how good I was at it!

But stepping into academia as a new “almost a Doctor” feels like starting over. It means new rules, new benchmarks, and sometimes, new rejections.

Not getting these new, “starting out” academic jobs doesn’t mean failure.
It means:

• I was brave enough to apply.
• I learned (and practiced) how to shape my story and skills.
• I gained feedback I can use next time.
• I kept moving forward, even when the outcome wasn’t what I hoped for.

For anyone else navigating new career chapters: the “no” doesn’t erase everything you’ve achieved. It’s simply part of the path.

So today I’m choosing to name it, share it, and keep going.
Because the right “yes” will come.

There’s a strange mix of relief and panic that comes with the final months of a doctorate. Submission suddenly feels real and within reach, but so does the long list of edits, formatting tweaks, and final checks. It’s a season of tying loose ends, trusting the work I’ve put in, and finding small ways to keep momentum.

Here are some of the things keeping me on track as I head toward submission.

Mindset Rituals

I’ve learned that little daily rituals matter more than heroic bursts of productivity. For me, it starts with a morning beverage routine (not coffee…..but still caffeine. Done come for me!) where I set just one clear goal for the day. Sometimes that’s a big one (rewriting a section), and sometimes it’s tiny (checking two references). Naming the task helps me avoid spiralling into overwhelm and keeps progress tangible.

I also try to end each work session by noting what’s left undone – not as a failure, but as a marker of where to begin next time. It’s like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for my future self.

Practical Tools

The checklist is my lifeline right now. Mine covers everything from double-checking APA referencing to ensuring figure captions match formatting requirements. I’ve also broken submission down into mini-milestones: proofreading one chapter at a time, running Turnitin checks, and cross-checking appendices.

I’ve found that sub-tasks make the mountain feel less intimidating. “Revise Chapter 7” is daunting. “Check headings and transitions in Chapter 7” is achievable. This one was key for me as I was getting so overwhelmed I was getting myself stuck and doing nothing.

Anchors for Well-Being

It’s easy to forget that this stage is just as draining as data collection or analysis. So I’ve given myself some anchors: walking the dogs, leaving weekends free where I can, and keeping evenings as screen-free as possible. These small pauses help reset my energy so I can return to the work with more clarity.

I also love flowers and have been making sure I have fresh and visible flowers at the moment while I am struggling a bit. It really improves how I feel when writing at home.

Accountability and Support

I’ve been leaning more than ever on my supervisory team, but also on peers who understand the strange push-pull of these final weeks. Sometimes it’s about feedback, but often it’s just about encouragement: a quick message that says, “You’re nearly there. Keep going.”

That reminder…that I’m not doing this alone…has been one of the most valuable supports of all.

Closing Thought

The finishing line is in sight, and while the list feels endless some days, I’m reminded that every ticked box is progress. If you’re in the same stage of your doctorate, take one sub-task at a time. Submission isn’t a single giant leap as much as it’s a series of steady steps.

And step by step, we’ll get there.

Written by Melissa Smith, Doctor of Education student (teacher for 18 years), Central Queensland University

I’ve always believed that the most meaningful educational programs often have a spark of creativity – the kind that lights up students’ eyes and makes learning feel less like work and more like an exciting discovery. In July this year I was lucky to present at two different conferences – The National Education Summit https://www.nationaleducationsummit.com.au/nes-blog/paw-sitive-reading-how-dogs-can-help-struggling-readers-thrive and the AATE/ALEA National Conference. Unfortunately I ran into some issues at the AATE/ALEA conference which were very stressful! Luckily my peers on the PhD Students Australia Facebook page had some great suggestions and workarounds.

The final stretch of a thesis is supposed to feel like the end is in sight… right?

But right now, it doesn’t. I’m in the thick of it. The last lot of feedback hit harder than I expected, and instead of motivating me, it’s left me frozen. I know it’s meant to strengthen my work…and it will…but it’s hard not to feel overwhelmed right now.

Balancing feedback, revisions, work, and life feels like spinning plates on a tightrope some days. It’s exhausting.

I’m sharing this not for sympathy but to remind others (and myself) that the final stages of a doctorate are tough. You’re not alone if you’re struggling. Sometimes “just keep going” looks like taking a break, admitting you’re stuck, or asking for help. Today, I asked for help and all the wonderful people I am lucky enough to be visiting in Rockhampton at CQUniversity rallied around. I had student mentors, visiting academics and school of graduate research staff step in to talk to me, reassure me and provide some concrete advice on how to progress. Not to mention other students attending the intensive and also sharing their experiences.

If you’re also in the messy middle (or end) of a big project – academic or otherwise – I see you.

Let’s keep showing up, even if it’s just one word at a time.

I’ve seen a lot of online queries lately asking how people manage working part-time (or casually) while completing a PhD – and still have time for themselves. I thought it might be helpful to share what’s worked for me in one place.

Let’s be real: juggling academic work, a thesis, and a life isn’t easy. Here are some practical things that helped me stay sane(ish) and protect my weekends:

Containerised Browsing + Email Boundaries

I do a lot of casual academic teaching, which means I get emails at all hours from multiple employers and students. One of the best things I did was to use browser containers and schedule blocks to turn off those notifications when I’m focusing on my writing – vice versa. It took me way too long to put that boundary in place, but once I did, my ability to concentrate improved massively.

Saying No (Even When It’s Hard)

In my second year, I made the tough decision to leave an ongoing academic role, partly because the expectations just didn’t align with being part-time. I was constantly being contacted outside of hours and expected to jump in like I was full-time. Quitting was scary – hello job insecurity – but the improvement to my wellbeing was immediate and real. Sometimes you have to choose yourself.

Scheduling, with Wiggle Room

I use a shared calendar with my partner so we both know what’s happening and when….including non-negotiable downtime. I schedule my days with blocks, but I’m also realistic. I manage chronic pain, so if I have a crash day midweek, I’ll reshuffle things – maybe move a writing block to Sunday arvo. Flexibility within my desired structure has been key.

Communicating Crunch Times

When I’m in a crunch (like right now!), I let friends and family know. I still do my casual teaching work, but my writing schedule gets intense with tight deadlines. Being upfront means there are fewer expectations around spontaneous catch-ups or late-night dinner….and fewer guilty “sorry I can’t” texts from me.

No system is perfect, and things still fall through the cracks sometimes. But these strategies have helped me protect both my time and my energy. If you’re navigating the same mix of study, work, and life, I hope some of this is useful. And if you’re at the start of the doctoral level study I recommend you set those boundaries early. You’ll thank yourself later.

Let’s be honest: when you’re juggling teaching/work, research deadlines, writing, and the mental load of Research by Higher Degree (RHD) study, the idea of attending a conference social event might feel… expendable. It’s easy to convince yourself you’ll skip the welcome drinks or dinner, head back to the hotel, and catch up on work (or sleep). For someone like me who also manages chronic pain it can be even more tempting! There’s a lot of peopling at these events.

But here’s my advice: don’t.

Some of the most meaningful, memorable, and career-shaping moments happen after the formal sessions end.

On Day 1 at the National conference I am currently attending, I spent 10hrs on planes and in airports and arrived at the hotel just as the welcome reception started. Saying I was not in the mood was putting it lightly! But I went anyway and since I have no conference buddies here I wandered up to various groups to introduce myself. Lo and behold, I connected with someone who works at a uni I just applied for sessional work at! She took my card and assures me she has some casual work available next semester.

On Day 2, I found myself sitting between two lovely educators from different states while we painted at a “paint and sip” class. We weren’t dissecting theory or pedagogy or research – we were sharing stories about why we started in education, the messiness, and the many joys we see day-to-day. It was warm, real, and deeply validating.

Conference social events aren’t about networking in the cringey, corporate sense. They’re about connection. They’re where you meet the person who recommends a reading that reshapes your lit review. The person who’s trialled an idea you’ve only just begun exploring. The RHD student (or finisher!) who gets exactly what it feels like to be drowning in ethics forms, writing, editing etc.

Yes, you’ll be tired. Yes, it might feel awkward. But show up. You don’t need to stay all night. You don’t need to work the room. You just need to say hi, share a table, and let the conversation meander.

Because the magic of conferences isn’t always in the keynotes – it’s in the connections you carry home.

P.S. I’m a big advocate for business cards at these sorts of events. I know it’s considered a bit old school but something easy to carry you can hand to people is very useful. This is mine and while I do think it’s a bit cluttered, I give it out to a huge range of people so it needs to cover a bit! I made these on Vistaprint.

P.P.S I do just want to add a comment in here to conference organisers about ensuring conference social events are accessible. Lots of “conference dinners” seem to be shifting towards a cocktail style to reduce cost. I get it. But those events are not much fun for those of us using mobility aids or with invisible illnesses that make standing a challenge.

As an external doctoral student with CQUniversity’s School of Education and the Arts, I don’t always feel the buzz of campus life. But this week, that changed. I opened my mailbox to find a crinkled (but heartfelt!) letter from the research team – and two tiny, delightful surprises: a Yorkshire Terrier mini-block set and a snack based mini-block construction kit.

The letter invited me to the upcoming 2025 School of Education and the Arts Symposium, with a reminder that research is about connection and piecing together ideas and experiences to build something meaningful. The mini-block kits were a playful nod to that idea, encouraging us to take a breather and reflect on the process of building, in every sense.

I ask the important Qs though: like did someone at CQU know my doctoral research explores reading-to-dog programs?

Because… a Yorkshire Terrier mini-block kit seems more than a fluke!

Coincidence? Or the most adorably on-brand academic encouragement I’ve ever received?

Recently I’ve been supporting several students as they head towards the end of their thesis journey at my Australian Uni. I’m also at that stage and was asked about the proofreading process and budget allocation for this. Below are the points I wrote out specific to my own experience.

1. Talk to your supervisors and ask who they recommend. Often, they will have had a recent experience with someone (either positive or not so positive), so they can help to build a list with a few options 

 

2. They have to be on the uni approved list. Can’t use them if not on the list. 

 

3. It is important to plan ahead and know a month or two before you are aiming to send to proofreaders. They are often booked out right now, but will be able to allocate space to you in 6-8 weeks. This was how I got my first choice!

 

4. Contact them one at a time with an approximate word count and estimated date you will be sending it to them. Confirm they are available first. Then, ask them to send you a quote. The quote is based on word count and discipline so you will need to be able to give them a rougn word count idea for the quote. The cap for funding for proofreading is $1200 at my uni.

 

5. You can then send the quote to your School of Graduate Research and get it approved. You are encouraged to check your budget beforehand ito make sure you have the funds available. 

 

6. When you submit your document to the proofreader, my supervisor also recommends completing the “intention to submit” form for SGR at that point. This is usually done 4-6 weeks beforehand. 

 

At the start of my doctorate, everyone talked about the big things: research questions, ethics approvals, coding frameworks, findings chapters. But what helped me most? A GANTT chart and a stack of colour-coded sub-tasks.

This blog isn’t about “how to do a GANTT chart” (there are plenty of templates out there). It’s about why it’s worth doing and continuing to update it consistently….and why sub-tasks are the underrated heroes of getting your thesis done.

Big goals are great. But sub-tasks are how you move.

Saying “I’ll write Chapter 5” is kind of like saying “I’ll climb Mount Everest.” Sure, that’s the goal. But where do you start? What gear do you need? How do you know if you’re halfway?

Breaking each big task down – really down – helped me actually move. My GANTT chart includes things like:

• Organise and import transcripts

• Code a small sample and refine approach

• Revisit and add to researcher journal

• Identify illustrative quotes

• Conduct trustworthiness checks

Some of these took hours. Some took weeks. But none of them were as overwhelming as “do analysis.” And that made all the difference.

My example here shows you some of my subtasks in the last stages:

A visual plan gives you perspective (and proof of progress)

Research can feel endless. You can spend whole days thinking deeply and still have nothing “ticked off.” That’s where the GANTT chart helped. I colour-coded each phase of my research based on the initial example given by my school – ethics, data collection, analysis, writing – and could easily see how far I’d come.

It also helped in supervision meetings. Instead of saying “I think I’m behind,” I could say, “I’m in week 6 of this phase, and about halfway through my coding.”

Clarity, not confusion.

Sub-tasks are your best defence against burnout

There’s something oddly motivating about ticking off a task…even a small one. When I felt overwhelmed or stuck, I’d open my GANTT, pick a sub-task, and do it. Even on low-energy days, I could review transcripts or clean up quotes.

It wasn’t just about productivity. It was about momentum. And in a long-haul project like a thesis, momentum matters.

My advice? Start small. Get specific.

You don’t need to create a perfect GANTT chart at the start. I updated mine regularly as my project evolved. But having something to work from – and towards – kept me grounded.

If you’re early in your Masters of Doctorate or just about to start a major phase (like data analysis or writing up), take 30 minutes to break your big tasks into smaller ones. Then space them out. Give them colours. Print it out or keep it visible. Let it guide you.

Because in the end, a thesis isn’t written in chapters. It’s written in sub-tasks.

I was reading responses today on a PhD forum around who people thanked in their thesis acknowledgement/personal thank you section. 

Some were very simple (committee, god, family) and others were much more extensive. One person even had none! 

I’m a few months off that stage now so it’s been on my mind recently. My list is lengthy because my journey hasn’t been straight forward: 

• My husband 
• Supervisors. I have been so lucky to have amazing supervisors 
• My dogs (my research is animal based and my doggies started me on it and kept me company while writing)
• The many teacher and uni colleagues l’ve worked with who supported me emotionally and practically as I hit speed bump after speed bump
• The many people who voluntarily helped out with my research for no personal gain, including numerous volunteers in the community who gave so much of their time. They saved my bacon a few times when I had ethics issues trying to go into schools
• My besties who listened to me complain a lot. Like….a lot! 
• My family, especially my grandparents. My 97yo grandad has drawn me a dog themed illustration for each chapter so his illustrations will live on forever.

I’m also currently considering adding my recliner which has supported me through most of my writing. 

And finally….most importantly….Bluey gets a mention!

I’m a teacher. I’m used to guiding, explaining, facilitating. So when I started interviewing volunteers, I brought that with me.

But reflexive interviewing, I learned, is not about guiding. It’s about holding space.

I added a final question to every interview:

“Is there anything else you’d like to share?”

That one question changed things.

So many rich, unplanned insights came in response to that. Stories that reshaped themes, exposed contradictions, or brought forward emotion that earlier answers hadn’t touched.

And often, those insights came after a long pause.

Silence used to make me uncomfortable. Now I understand it as part of the data. Holding space isn’t passive – it’s deeply active. And sometimes, it’s where the best stuff lives.

Here’s something I didn’t expect in my data collection: how hard it would be to get online with participants.

Many of the volunteers in my study weren’t tech-savvy. Teams links didn’t open. Emails got missed. One participant dropped out because she couldn’t figure out how to turn her camera on.

These weren’t “difficult participants.” They were generous people navigating tools that weren’t designed with them in mind.

Eventually, I simplified everything:

• Switched to digital signatures

• Created a youcanbook.me calendar with automatic reminders and an easy scheduling tool to avoid back and forth

• Always had a phone backup ready

Reflexive research isn’t just about epistemology. It’s about logistics, empathy, and meeting people where they are. That’s part of being ethical, too.

I expected my data to show volunteers feeling rewarded and impactful. And many did. But then a few started saying things like:

“I’m not sure it made any difference.”

And I froze.

My instinct was to treat those comments as outliers. But I kept hearing them. And eventually I had to ask: what’s being revealed here that I don’t want to see?

Reflexive thematic analysis reminded me that disconfirming evidence isn’t a disruption—it’s a gift. It pushes you to deepen, expand, and challenge your early assumptions.

So I created a new code: ‘volunteer uncertainty’. And it changed how I saw the entire landscape of my findings.

Don’t ignore what makes you uncomfortable. That’s where the meaning often sits.

I used to think coding was clean. Apply a label, sort the data, move on. Then I started actually coding for reflexive thematic analysis.

Suddenly I found myself staring at a phrase like “She seemed more relaxed” and asking: is this a semantic code? Or am I interpreting too much? Is this about child confidence… or am I just hoping it is?

Reflexive thematic analysis invites us to sit with that mess. Braun & Clarke don’t ask for perfect distinctions – they ask us to be reflexive about our role in making meaning.

So I started keeping a “murky codes” list – entries I wasn’t sure about, to revisit later. Some became strong latent themes. Some I dropped. But the point was, I thought through my decisions, rather than pushing uncertainty aside.

Reflexivity isn’t just about the emotional stuff. It’s about being honest when your analysis isn’t clean and knowing that’s not a flaw, it’s the work.

When I first started writing up my findings, I thought vignettes were just nice narrative touches…something to make the data “come alive.” But as I worked through my reflexive thematic analysis, I realised they were doing much more.

Vignettes became tools for meaning-making.

Rather than dropping in quotes to support a point, I began stitching together multiple data sources – interview excerpts, field notes, pauses, body language – to build short, situated vignettes that captured complex moments. This helped me show nuance, not just tell it.

Braun & Clarke remind us that theme development is interpretive. For me, vignettes helped carry that interpretation in a grounded, layered, and human way.

One tip? Don’t treat vignettes like sidebars. Build them into your themes. Let them do analytical work.

I’m using reflexive thematic analysis as outlined by Braun & Clarke, which makes room for subjectivity – not just as something to “manage,” but as a central part of meaning-making. That means your values, experiences, and responses matter and should be visible in your process.

For me, journaling wasn’t just about transparency for the sake of a future methodology chapter. It helped me:

• Track how my thinking changed over time

• Record doubts, questions, and decisions so I could revisit them

• Notice emotional responses I might have brushed off

• Stay connected to the humanity of my participants

In short, it helped me be a better, more self-aware researcher.

Why I Chose Day One as My Journaling Tool

First of all, I paid full price for Day One on apples App Store and was in no way gifted or sponsored anything for this. I did start with apples free journaling tool which may also work for you.

I wanted a digital journal that was:

• Easy to access across devices (I could journal straight after interviews on my phone, or type up a longer reflection on my laptop…or access things from my iPad during supervisor meetings)

• Searchable and taggable (so I could find entries linked to certain interviews, moments, or themes). This was the biggest downside to the Apple free one as they simply did not have it and the tags were really important for me

• Flexible (I could insert screenshots of coded segments, voice memos, or links to articles I was thinking about)

Day One ticked all those boxes. It also has a really clean, distraction-free interface, which meant I actually used it.

What I Wrote About (with Real Examples)

I didn’t use a rigid structure, but over time, a few types of entries emerged:

• Post-interview reflections: What stood out? What surprised me? What emotional responses did I have? Did anything feel hard to hear or hard to believe?

• Coding notes: After a coding session, I’d jot down what I found challenging or energising. Sometimes I’d question myself: “Am I forcing this theme because I want it to be there?”

• Theme development entries: When a theme was forming or changing, I’d write about how it emerged and why I thought it mattered. These entries were messy and full of “maybe it’s actually about…” moments.

• Supervisor meetings: I’d quickly record what we discussed, what I felt unsure about, and what I was excited to try next. This helped track how our conversations shaped the project.

• Messy feelings: I wrote entries like “I’m worried this isn’t interesting enough,” or “I think I’m over-identifying with this participant.” These were often the most useful entries when it came to writing my reflexivity section.

How Often I Journaled

This varied depending on the phase of research. Roughly:

• After each interview (within 24 hours)

• After each major coding session

• Anytime I felt stuck or had a strong reaction

• After supervision meetings

• When something shifted in my thinking

I didn’t force myself to write every day. But I did treat journaling as an essential part of the research, not an “extra.” I’d often set a timer for 10 minutes and just see what came out.

Prompts I Used (or Wrote to Myself)

These were a mix of pre-planned and spontaneous:

• What assumptions am I bringing today?

• What is sitting uncomfortably with me?

• What did I want to find, and did I find it?

• What voices or perspectives am I ignoring here?

• Is this theme emerging from the data…or from me?

• What’s changed in how I see this topic since I started?

Sometimes I just started typing: I don’t know what to write but I feel like something’s shifted…

What I’d Do Differently Next Time

Looking back, a few things I’d improve:

• Be more consistent in tagging entries by theme, stage, or emotional tone

• Include more screenshots from my coding software (NVivo) to link journaling directly with data

• Write the messy stuff sooner, I often waited until I had a “neat” insight, but the raw uncertainty was just as valuable

• Schedule regular reflection time into my week, not just when things felt intense

Why This Helped So Much

Journaling helped me stay accountable to my values. It reminded me that I wasn’t trying to be an objective robot sifting through words…I was a human, engaging deeply with other humans’ stories.

It also gave me material I later used in my methodology and discussion chapters. I could literally quote past entries that showed how my themes emerged, or how I wrestled with a particular coding decision.

More than anything, it was a space to think. Not to prove anything, just to notice, reflect, and stay open.

Final Thoughts

If you’re doing qualitative research and have been told to “keep a reflexive journal,” I hope this helped lift the veil a little. You don’t have to write perfect, poetic entries. You don’t have to journal daily. You just have to show up with honesty and curiosity – and find a method that helps you track your learning as you go.

Day One worked for me. Maybe a notebook, Word doc, or voice memo app will work for you.

Whatever you choose, just start. The messy thoughts are often the most meaningful.

Last week I attended the RHD intensive at CQUniversity where I spent my days hanging out with lots of newbie PhD and Masters students.

The question I got asked the most was “Mel…where do you get your personalised shirts?!”

I make them myself on Vistaprint! I’ve attached some images of the mock ups and the final products that I have in white, black, blue and pink 💜

This the link https://www.vistaprint.com.au/clothing-bags/t-shirts?PCXTVATINCLUSIVE=&utm_id=3BPS010442886B4B42DE41&coupon=&partner=google&ps_vtp=75661903%7C3011118583%7C%7Ckwd-6057327674%7Cm%7C9070592%7C%7Cg&ps_vtp2=g%7Cvistaprint%20tshirts%7Ce%7C448965191026%7C%7C%7C%7C%7C&gad_source=1&gbraid=0AAAAACUDNVspm2boHz4-kgh65ehi1QD4e&gclid=Cj0KCQjwv_m-BhC4ARIsAIqNeBsTDEBqiq8FHysX46M8vaX1voYbdoPvXtALVEqKZEBvwetvdWbzbIIaAvYXEALw_wcB

This week, I’ve been lucky enough to attend the Pre-Confirmation of Candidature Research Higher Degree (RHD) Training Intensive at CQUniversity Rockhampton – not just as a researcher, but as an RHD Mentor.

It’s once again been an incredible experience connecting with early-stage researchers, offering guidance, and witnessing the energy and dedication they bring to their projects. The program is packed with skill-building sessions, networking opportunities, and invaluable insights from experienced academics and peers.

One of the best parts? The sense of community. Research can sometimes feel isolating, but events like this remind us that we’re part of a broader network of scholars who support and challenge each other. Whether it’s refining research questions, planning literature reviews, tackling methodology, or just sharing the ups and downs of the RHD journey, these conversations are what make the experience so rewarding.

To those considering attending in the future – do it. A huge shoutout to the CQUniversity SGR team who made this week such a success!

I haven’t taken many photos this time around but this is myself and one of my fellow RHD mentors enjoying a well earned wine at one of the group dinners.

I’ve been accepted into the Thesis Completion Initiave (TCI) at CQUniversity!

TCI offers RHD candidates the chance to re-direct unused funding from their RHD budgets to support their thesis drafting. More importantly, it is a writing support program, aimed at providing candidates of all disciplines with peer support, motivational support and tips on writing productively. The typical structure of sessions is time spent discussing each participant’s progress towards their thesis goals; sharing successes and challenges; and supporting one another with potential solutions to common problems such as writer’s block, lack of motivation, managing time and other concerns. We then goal set and revisit those goals in the next session.

As an online/external student it can be a bit lonely….and overwhelming when writing things like findings and discussion chapters for the first time! So I’m excited to have some accountabil-a-buddies to keep me focused and positive.

My grandad is 97 years old and one of my favourite people. He keeps telling me my thesis publication is too far away for him! So, I asked if he would like to draw some doggy line drawings I could add to each chapter. He’s taken to the task with gusto and I love them so far.

Another fantastic session during the CQUniversity RHD Online Intensive with Maria Gardiner today. The conversations inspired me to update my (very cheap Vistaprint) business cards to include a few recent achievements and ensure they are more “me”.

We also spoke about the importance of LinkedIn these days, google scholar (which I need to explore) and things like this website and blog. In fact, Maria used this as an example of what to do which was a bit exciting for me!

I’ve written before about how my coursework set me up for confirmation of candidature. What I haven’t really talked about is how stressful the whole confirmation and ethics stage actually was. So here’s the honest version.

On paper, I was prepared. I had my drafts, my feedback, my neat little list of things to address. But confirmation isn’t just a document. It’s the first time your project is formally judged by people outside your supervisory team, and it felt like my whole doctorate was on trial. In particular, as a qualitative research spanning a few niche fields I really copped some harsh critiques from people in specialist areas that didn’t quite get the “big picture”. I got through it, but I came out the other side exhausted.

Then came ethics. If you haven’t done a human research ethics application before, imagine filling in a very long form where every answer creates three new questions. Because my research indirectly involved children in schools through drawing (as well as adults working with them), there were a lot of moving parts. And of course, after my original program withdrew, parts of it had to be reworked. There were moments where I genuinely wondered if I’d ever get to collect data.

What made it harder was feeling like I was the only one struggling. As an external student in WA doing qualitative research in a niche area, I didn’t have a cohort to compare notes with. I didn’t know if my experience was normal or if I was doing something wrong. Spoiler: it was very normal. I just didn’t know that yet. So when I saw the call for HDR Student Mentors at my uni (CQU), something clicked. I’d just spent months wishing someone further along would tell me “this is hard for everyone, here’s what helped me.” I could be that person for someone else.

I applied, and was offered a casual role in July 2024. In the role I have been working with two other student mentors to revamp the program. We are running online drop-in sessions, meeting one-on-one with students, helping with milestone prep, pointing people to university services, attending in person intensives and planning to introduce shut up and write sessions as well.

The thing I love most is that my messiest experiences are now my most useful ones. When a student tells me they’re panicking about their confirmation panel, I can say “me too, and here’s what I’d do differently.” When someone is on their third round of ethics amendments, I can tell them it’s not a sign they’re failing. It’s just ethics.

A few things I find myself telling mentees over and over:

Your confirmation of candidature panel wants you to succeed. Their questions are there to strengthen the project, not to catch you out, even when it doesn’t feel that way in the room.

Ethics takes longer than you think. Build buffer time into your plan, then add a bit more.

Talk to people. Your supervisors, your graduate research school, other students, the ethics committee. So much of the stress comes from thinking you’re the only one.

If you’re a doctoral student who’s come through a hard milestone, consider whether your university has a mentoring program. Your rough patch might be exactly what someone else needs to hear about.

I wanted to share something I’ve found super helpful on my doctorate journey – I created my very own personalised “colour-as-you-go” progress tracker. It’s nothing fancy, just a fun way to keep track of all the big milestones, like submitting my thesis draft, presenting at conferences, or hitting those smaller steps, like coding data for the first time!

I designed it in Word as I’m not creative enough to free draw. Canva would also be a great tool. What I love about it is the satisfaction of colouring in each section as I tick things off. It’s a little (low cost) thing, but it makes the whole process feel a bit more manageable. Plus, it’s nice to have a visual reminder of how far I’ve come, especially on the tough days.

In February of this year, a coach and business leader I know put forward the idea for a collaborative book. It was going to be all about the stories behind successful women in business.

I thought….I don’t fit that shape.

I thought….sure I’ve run small businesses but only little ones to allow me to redirect my career. That’s not success  

I thought…who would want to read my story anyway? 

Apparently quite a few people! 

Kindle link here

Purchase a signed copy here

The books advertising blurb 

We all have THOSE books…

The ones that no matter how many times we read, we discover something new.

The ones you always recommend to friends when they’re looking for a new book.

The ones that have dog earred pages throughout, signalling hidden gems you want to forever remember.

The 24 authors from ‘Try And Stop Her’ have those books too, and we’re excited to drop a new book into your collection that will be inspiration for many years to come!!

 

 

I won my university’s 2024 three minute thesis competition! This means I move forward as the CQUniversity representative in the international (Asia pacific region) 3MT competition. In October 2024, representatives from universities across Australia, New Zealand, Japan, Hong Kong, Malaysia, and Singapore will compete for the title of the 2024 Virtual Asia-Pacific 3MT Winner.

I was also runner up for the CQU people’s choice award.

The 3MT competition allows Higher Degree by Research candidates to hone their communication skills, receive international peer review, and gain skills surrounding the presentation of their research to a wider audience.

Imagine this: you’ve spent years crafting an 80,000-word PhD thesis. Now, you’re expected to condense that research into 3 minutes for the 3MT (Three Minute Thesis) competition. If you’re aiming for the VYT (Visualise Your Thesis) competition, you’ve got just 1 minute!

Turning an academic masterpiece – whether it’s an 80,000-word thesis or a 15,000-word confirmation of candidature – into a 1-3 minute performance isn’t just about simplifying; it’s about presenting your ideas in a tight, captivating art form.

For context on these tips, I’m nearing the end of my second year and have completed my confirmation of candidature and ethics approval. I’ve submitted a 15,000-word literature review and methodology framework, made changes based on external reviewers, and commenced a pilot study.

Tips from a first-timer for 3MT and VYT:

• Scripts and video planning: Creativity is key. Shorter is necessary. Review and edit obsessively. Read it aloud! I edited my VYT captions around 20 times, and my 3MT script even more. Align your captions with visuals and get a range of feedback.

• The Importance of Visuals: VYT allows flexibility (video, images, slides). One of the very early pieces of VYT feedback I got was on a slide where I say “now imagine that dog wagging its tail as the child reads aloud….” and to use a video of a kid reading to a dog while the tail wags. Cue 4hrs of attempting to film that! For 3MT, I will use a single evocative image—think minimalist.

• Title Changes: Use a snappy, descriptive title that grabs attention. Avoid your thesis title!

• The Hook: Avoid the overused “imagine that…” start in 3MT. Go for a fresh, engaging opening that situates the viewer in your research. Build connection and emotion. 

• Jargon Be Gone: Simplify complex terms like pedagogy, emergent, fluency, phonemes for a general audience without being patronising.

• The Art of Storytelling: Use “I think…,” metaphors, similes, and rhetorical questions. Follow a story structure – start with a hook, provide details, and circle back to your opening.

• Significance: Explain why your research matters. Don’t overlook this, especially in the early stages. I missed it in my first drafts, as I’m in my second year with limited “output” yet.

Here is my V1 versus V6 script after sitting through lots of amazing training opportunities provided by my uni, including two extremely helpful sessions run by Simon Clews.

In short, distilling a thesis into an ‘elevator pitch’ is like condensing a complex recipe into a single bite-sized appetiser. It’s a challenge, but with the right approach, you can effectively capture the essence.

I attended an RHD intensive presentation today (an AMAZING presentation I should add!) by Melanie Hayman. Aside from participating in all the awesomeness of research proposal speed dating, I also wrote down and highlighted “Twitter/X has been replaced by LinkedIn for networking now + Instagram for younger target groups”.

Personally, I started my “teacher twitter” 11 years ago and had built quite a community of educators and academics over the years…including a number of my former MTeach students. I definitely agree X has decimated the platform though and I rarely use it now. In fact, at dinner the other night when a few other RHD students and I exchanged details it was all LinkedIn connections.

I’ve read through many RHD student posts recently (catching up on my internet scrolling after travelling!) and noticed a recurring theme: people feeling overwhelmed by their confirmation of candidature and writing. I wanted to share some of my journey. It’s been an eye-opening experience since I started full-time in February 2023.

For context: I’m an expert in my field. I was a high achiever – winning awards, leading programs, mentoring. Entering a doctoral program has been a shock because I am not at the same level now.

• Initially, I felt lost. Meetings used unfamiliar terms, and directions were vague. I struggled. Thankfully, my uni required a coursework unit (at that time) to build confirmation of candidature sections, providing structure and examples. My first drafts were heavily criticised by my supervisors, which was a little bit distressing. I had to process the critical feedback. A senior colleague advised me “criticism of your writing is not criticism of you as a person.” It’s true, but separating the two is challenging when it’s your passion.
• By Nov 2023, I was ready to submit my CoC. Though not perfect, my supervisors agreed. I submitted in early Dec, the same day both supervisors went on leave. Around the same time, I was awarded an RTP Stipend Scholarship. To incorrectly quote the Lego movie “everything was awesome”
• Three days later, I received an email. The program central to my research had withdrawn their support without notice. I quite literallly threw up. I had to call my supervisors who advised me to take leave to extend the finish date, have a break and take time to process what changes I would need to make to my (now withdrawn) confirmation of candidature
• Do you think I took time to relax and process? Haha no. I contacted every smaller organisation in my field, spending hours researching, calling, and emailing. By Feb, I had a list of smaller organisations willing to support my research. We rescoped the method and lit review and by April, it was ready to resubmit.
• Finding external reviewers took time but eventually two agreed. This was tricky as both areas of my research (dogs and books) were quite different so reviewers were worried they would be okay with one but not the other. The feedback I received was one very positive and one very negative with many, many revision requests and some fairly harsh personal comments. My supervisors were amazing, as were the school of graduate research at my uni and it was decided I would respond to all of the feedback and action it where relevant. So, I responded to every comment in my response table which ended up being 27pgs long. Working through them one by one, I found much of it was helpful when viewed discretely. My CoC document grew from 10,000 to 12,000, then 15,000 words.
• With my supervisors’ support, I completed the changes and the review table (most edits were where I had been too sassy with my reviewer comments) and resubmitted (now at 16,000 words) in June. We also submitted my university-level human ethics committee application early, as my ethics process involves state education departments and will be lengthy. That had 24 attachments and was a mammoth effort!

While I was on holiday in July, both my CoC and uni human ethics app were approved. It’s been quite a journey to here, but it’s a huge step forward and a relief to know I am on the right track.

Here’s a photo of my favorite shirt ready for the upcoming RHD intensive week with CQU!

I’ve been quiet on here for a bit and I want to explain why, because I think this is one of those doctoral experiences nobody warns you about.

My research was designed around a specific reading-to-dog program – Story Dogs. The largest reading-to-dog program in Australia. My data collection, my timeline, my ethics application, everything was built on working with them. And then, on Dec 5th 2023, they withdrew. It was one day after I had submitted my confirmation of candidature for review.

I’m not going to go into why, and honestly the reasons matter less than the feeling. I was in an absolute panic. A doctorate is already a long project with a lot riding on it, and suddenly the foundation was gone. I kept thinking: have I just wasted 12 months? Do I have to start again? Is this the end?

My supervisors were brilliant. Their suggestion was to immediately withdraw the confirmation of candidature (which luckyily had not been sent to reviewers yet) take some leave over Christmas and January so my deadlines would be extended and I’d have breathing room to regroup. Sensible, right?

Here’s the confession: I did take the leave… and then I spent a big chunk of it frantically working anyway. I combed through hundreds of google results and contacted other reading-to-dog programs (much smaller, more niche ones) explaining my project and asking if they’d be open to being involved. I reread my methodology and started restructuring my approach so it wasn’t dependent on one single program. I also rewrote my ethics to be across several states and settings.

Would I recommend “working on your leave”? Probably not, and I’m not proud of it. But I also know that doing something helped me stop spiralling. By the time I came back officially, I had a revised plan, revised research aims, revised methodology and I felt like the project was mine again. In fact, my project is now even stronger for it.

If this happens to you: breathe. Talk to your supervisors early. A research partner pulling out feels like the end, but it’s often a redirect. It was for me.

In my last post I talked about how the compulsory coursework in my EdD ended up being way more useful than I expected. This post is about the payoff: using it to get through confirmation of candidature.

Quick explainer for the non-academics: confirmation of candidature is the first big milestone in an Australian research degree. You submit a proposal (background, literature, methodology, timeline, ethics considerations), then present it to a panel of internal reviewers who decide whether your project is feasible and you can continue. It’s basically “prove this is a real doctorate research study.”

This is where my coursework really earned its keep. I didn’t start my confirmation document from a blank page. I had 2 large assessment pieces that had already been drafted, marked, and commented on. My job was to stitch them together, update the reading, and address the feedback I’d already been given. That’s a very different headspace to staring at an empty Word doc at 11pm. I also had connections with other students and academics who supported these units, and could help answer extra questions.

The marker feedback was gold here. Comments like “reference the methodology earlier” and “ensure your ontology aligns with your approach” were exactly the kind of questions a confirmation of candidature panel asks. I’d already had a practice run at answering them.

Was it still nerve-wracking? Absolutely. I ended up with a third reviewer and some additional challenging questions – not a surprise for a qualitative research project. But I walked in to the process feeling like my project had been tested, poked and prodded before that day, and that made a huge difference.

If you’re heading toward confirmation: go back through every bit of feedback you’ve received so far. Make a list. Tick them off. Your panel will very likely ask the same things.