Month: March 2024

Starting from scratch: Delivering Thematic Analysis sessions for the first time.

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Starting Thematic Analysis (TA) is a daunting task for most first-time researchers. TA is not something I have personally undertaken as part of my studies, yet it grew organically as most things at work do, taking root in the job and slowly but surely gaining ground. What had previously been taken for granted was now being overtaken with new ideas, fresh inspiration. Why did I decide to start running sessions for Writing Development on this type of qualitative analysis? It’s a slightly unusual story.

I had applied for an internal job at the University and one of the interview questions the panel asked me was ‘what methodology can you teach?’ I struggled to find an answer. It was a hot day and I felt under pressure to perform. It didn’t work out – I failed to get the job. I had to face reality – although I felt that I had bounteous experience supporting students with thematic analysis, it was never formalised. I never afforded myself the time to set aside and plan a session on thematic analysis as I was always too busy with back-to-back student appointments in my job as an Academic Subject Librarian for the Lincoln International Business School. I only worked for Writing Development three hours a week back then – not enough time to plan a new session or grapple with new concepts. Routinely I taught reflective writing or report writing year after year for Writing Development, with little option to broaden my wings and soar into unchartered territory. Starting as a full-time Writing Development Advisor last year gave me that opportunity.

That standalone interview question inspired me to think things anew.  Gone were days that the same old format would fit the bill. Writing Development needed new ideas, fresh approaches. Statistics about sessions on topics that we have not covered before far exceeding older, more established workshops. Students needed eye-catching variety, not an unquestioned itinerary of events. Our concept of the student experience is often far different than student needs and standing still could mean the format goes stale after a while.

How did I start? I conducted some preliminary research, pulled together some slides and met an academic from the Lincoln International Business School. We met and shared content, discussed ideas. What were the seminal works on Reflexive Thematic Analysis? Do you need to be a visual learner to carry out thematic analysis? Would this presentation work? It was a promising start: ‘I think students would really benefit from your workshop’ she said. Everyone needs encouragement, especially when embarking on something untested. It ignited my hopes of doing something different. I called it ‘Thematic Analysis for the first-time researcher’. No pun intended. Then I recorded the session and added it to the Writing Development site, before delivering a webinar on the slides. I subsequently adapted the slides and researched some more, adding richer depth to the content. I believed in a practical, step-by-step guide, envisioning students going through the same tentative stages as myself. During the first webinar, students popped questions into chat, generating ideas and different perceptions.

Diversifying what you offer is a key response to today’s unpredictable Higher Education climate. Statistics in this data-driven era has never been more scrutinised. What began as an unanswered question in a job interview eventually helped others embark on their research journey while sending me on a road of discovery which made the role more interesting and fulfilling as a result.

Ego Problems in Writing Support

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The ego is sometimes used to mean a kind of self-agrandizing principle of the psyche. Ego-centric can also mean that we focus on ourselves at the expense of others; this is a related but not identical meaning to the first sense. These differing meanings are related insofar as they both entail some psychic action by which we seek to prop up ourselves as individuals, one by self-promotion, one by self-interest. Both generally are related to a degree of insecurity in the individual in question. All people are different and have different histories; the ego level is contingent up various factors related to these differences.

A one-to-one support session is necessarily a meeting of egos. There is an imbalanced power relation between the student and the support worker. This is not an ego-trip itself, but a position of necessity. The student wants help with their writing and the writing support worker theoretically has the skills/knowledge to help them. This means it is not only a position of necessity but a position of responsibility, that is, the writing support worker is responsible for the student. Interestingly this means the power relation is more complicated than it first appears, for from this perspective the student is actually in control. They place the burden of their writing problems upon the support worker, whom they expect, to a greater or lesser extent, to solve them.

The initial manifestation of the support worker in this relation will be varied, but we all can be seduced by the desire to please, to be liked. Much more important than being liked though, is needing the student to trust us; this means we need to have (some) confidence in ourselves. If we project confidence, the student will trust us —unless we screw up so much that it’s painfully laid out for them to see. There is a difficult borderline (depending on our ego-structures) between the successful projection of confidence with the aim of inspiring trust and the confidence which inspires ‘being-liked’. We’re not supposed to care about ‘being-liked’ but because of the borderline, it can sometimes be hard to not do so.

I have often found myself lost in the early stages of a consult. Worried I won’t know where to go with it. Listening to the student, scanning the work. Looking to convey a mixture of honesty, but not so much honesty to give away the rising sense of ‘what to do with this?’ whilst also bringing the aforementioned confidence. I referred before to periods of quiet reading in the session that help let the problems in the work show themselves. These periods enable me to find a space in which any desire to be ‘liked’ can largely be eradicated as I get deeper into the work. Slowly seeing the problems emerge from the reading and talking about what they are trying to say, brings has a satisfaction that is not egoistic but only has its own satisfaction, like finding the solution of a puzzle on one’s own.

However this is not the end of the struggle. If the problems are successfully identified and a path forwards (that is not too disheartening) is found, then the student will often be very pleased. This pleasedness is then projected onto the the support worker in the form ‘being-liked’. Which is worse now, as it is not artifical (in the sense of inspired by the projection of confidence) but a genuine pleasure that their writing problems (for now) are resolved. It is course hard not to take some excess of pleasure in the pleasedness of the student, however it is to be avoided as much as possible.

The reason for this is that the classical issue of hubris is a very real one. If we allow the either spoken, or unspoken praise of the student to go in, then we may generate an attitude that will serve us very badly on another occasion. The projection of confidence, secure in the knowledge this is a contrivance is one thing, but the real thing is perilous. The tempered projection of confidence, should always contain the possibility of admitting to not know the way forward —a piece of writing for another time- whereas when hubris crashes into such difficulties the result will be an embarrassing mess, leaving the student lacking faith in the service and the support worker with another level of ego crisis to resolve.

Signposting dyslexic students to Wellbeing

Daren MansfieldLeave a comment

Reflective insights from a three-point map

Over the years I have frequently encountered undiagnosed dyslexia during 1-1s. Lately I have been reflecting on my own responses when a piece of writing exhibits traits of dyslexia, breaking them down into three parts. Not that I am an expert. These are purely general observations gleaned through years of experience. A feeling or perception, in other words. In a meeting with a student common dyslexia characteristics may become known from the first or second paragraph. Little signs that might explain the student’s difficulty with writing an assignment, indicating that further exploration is needed and the three-point map is carefully unfurled.

These three steps that I recognise as my approach to signposting students to Wellbeing and advise them about obtaining a screening for dyslexia are a regular reminder that although I am not an expert, or sufficiently qualified to diagnose dyslexia, there are brilliant services available to students at the University helping them to progress in their studies through correct diagnosis. If they are diagnosed with dyslexia, students may receive funding for an accessible laptop or obtain software like Dragon Naturally Speaking.

1st step: Initial signs

When I first met dyslexic students, I was looking for such tell-tale signs as misplaced word order or spelling, but I am increasingly aware that these are not the most common traits. Nowadays, tell-tale signs are more likely to include spending ages on an assignment, difficulty with translating their ideas onto paper, disorganised structure, confusion around capitalisation, and muddled syntax.

These broad observations lead to a short series of leading questions, which might illuminate the path ahead.

2nd step: Leading questions

The second stage in the process of considering signposting a student with potential dyslexia to Student Wellbeing might involve the following:

Q. ‘So, how long did you spend writing this 2000-word essay?’

A. ‘It took me all night to write two paragraphs’ or ‘I spent all day in the Library and produced nothing’.

Q. ‘Have you struggled with writing?’ (i.e. an open-ended question.

A. ‘Yes, when I was at school…’

Then we may comfortably enter into a discussion about screening: ‘have you ever thought you may be dyslexic?’

I would then point out where Student Wellbeing is located on the Brayford campus and their drop-in times.

As I indicated earlier in one of my blog posts, establishing the therapeutic relationship is essential in sensitively handling this discussion and attuned to whatever the student is saying through employing active listening skills (not interrupting, listening not responding, withholding judgement, and so forth). Otherwise, such a discussion might upset the student and discourage them from seeking further help.

3rd step: Learning strategies and signposting

Following on from this stage, we might discuss blue-sky thinking, problem solving, mind maps….getting the student to think visually; exploring ideas, not sentences.  LinkedIn has recently championed Dyslexia Thinking as a skill, not as an impediment.

Writing sentences can be a great inhibitor for a dyslexic student. Hurdles in word form. Breaking a sentence up into constituent parts drawn from ideas or images from a mind map is a great way of formulating a sentence. Bullet points can also kick-start an essay; an easy way to get started without worrying about the mental block of paragraphs. Think of small starts, but with big ideas.

It is often a relief for the student to realise that there is an issue where their struggles at school and college could be explained. Such a moment can be life-changing. Dyslexia is often hereditary. One of the student’s parents might be dyslexic. It may be common knowledge that they struggled in school and experience the same issues as their children, but it can be largely unspoken in family circles. Understood, but not officially diagnosed. As society moves on from the notion that dyslexia is an obstacle – as LinkedIn has recently done – students can feel confident at achieving academic success, and look forward to a brighter future.

Digging for words: Alex Quigley’s ‘Closing the Vocabulary Gap’

Daren MansfieldLeave a comment

The first chapter of Alex Quigley’s Closing the Vocabulary Gap reads like a resounding call to arms. A restricted vocabulary hinders a child’s academic progress, which impairs their mental health and future employment prospects as an adult. To succeed academically, developing word consciousness is fundamental. By way of a benchmark, readers of Closing the Vocabulary Gap typically know between 50 and 60 thousand words: in other words, a competent reader.

Knowing vocabulary is transformative: there is over a million words in the English language. In Shakespeare’s Hamlet there are 30,557 words alone. Students need to equip themselves with at least 50,000 words to thrive, otherwise their lack of ‘vocabulary knowledge deficit can prove an insurmountable hurdle’ (Quigley, 2018, 3). Vocabulary gaps start at an early age. Studies reveal that children with poorer vocabulary at aged five experience higher rates of unemployment along with poorer mental health problems (Nagy, 1987, 7). Although it is not a ‘bullet-proof solution’ (Quigley, 2018, 3) it is argued that academic achievement rests on broad vocabulary development:

Vocabulary size is a convenient proxy for a whole range of educational attainments and abilities – not just skill in reading, writing, listening and speaking, but also general knowledge of science, history and the arts’ (Hirsch, 2013).

Many children are in tears sitting their SATS reading examination in primary school – in one Key Stage 2 SATS reading examination the words ‘unearthed’, ‘drought’, ‘freshwater oasis’, ‘parched’, ‘receding’, ‘suffocation’ were contained in a single paragraph.  To meaningfully comprehend a text, you would need at least 95% reading comprehension. However, imagine reading a 300-word passage and not understanding 15 words then multiplying that for an 85,000-word textbook as a graphic illustration of the challenge ahead. Pupils struggle with harder GCSEs as A-Level concepts are absorbed into the curriculum. It is perhaps no surprise that socio-economic status lies at the heart of academic achievement, compounding the problem:

‘From birth to 48 months, parents in professional families spoke 32 million more words to their children than parents in welfare families, and this talk gap between the ages of 0 and 3 year – not parent education, socio-economic status, or race – explains the vocabulary and language gap at age 3 and the reading and math achievement gap aged 10’ (Horowitz and Samuels, 2017 ,151).

Someone (indubitably a male) educated at Eton College will have access to the best education available. Compare that with an under-privileged inner-city school and a chasm – not a gap – appears. Vocabulary can be simply outlined as the difference between rich and poor. Yet simply having access to a dictionary can make a big difference, and we have a great opportunity in the here and now, regardless of our social status:

‘by closing the vocabulary gaps for children in our classrooms with their peers, we can offer them the vital academic tools for school success, alongside the capability to communicate with confidence in the world beyond the school gates’ (Quigley, 2018, 2).

All very simple in theory. But where is the hook? How do we get children to read in the first place? By what means do we spark interest and inspire children to pick up a book and read on their own? A good 10-year-old reader encounters a million words in a year. Using public libraries are free. They are warm, inviting places. Having access to thousands of books on a wide variety of subjects opens the mind and gives the reader plenty of opportunity to expand their vocabulary. This is one solution.

Children need to be exposed to more complex reading earlier on. Reading lots of books for pleasure is key to expanding vocabulary but such practice does not hold all the answers. Word learning is necessary to crack the academic code; developing word consciousness where the child is curious about a meaning of a word is essential in digging deeper – to its etymology. Digging down to its roots and unearthing word parts – known as morphology exposes meaning. Take circle for instance. The roots of circle are ‘cycl’. This word part has many functions: ‘recycle’, ‘bicycle’, ‘cyclone’, ‘encyclopaedia’, ‘tricycle’, and ‘motorcycle’., thus creating word families. Deconstructing the core purpose of a word gives it traction, motivating the reader to learn more. Get digging, uncover the roots of words, break down each word and know its design. Only then we will be able to traverse the socio-economic chasm and fulfil our true student potential in our vocabulary journey.

References

Carpenter, K. (2020). Education, Education, Education: 500 years of Learning at Eton College. Available from: Education, Education, Education: 500 Years of Learning at Eton College – History of Education Society [Accessed 22nd February 2024].

Hirsch Jr, E.D. (2013). A wealth of words. The key to increasing upward mobility is expanding vocabulary. City Journal, 23 (1). Available from: A Wealth of Words | Education Analysis | Expanding Vocabulary (city-journal.org) [Accessed 21st February 2024].

Horowitz, R., & Samuels, S. J. (2017). The achievement gap in reading: Complex causes, persistent issues, possible solutions. New York: Routledge.

Nagy, W.E. & Herman, P.A. (1987). Breadth and depth of vocabulary knowledge: Implications for acquisition and instruction (in) McKeown, M. & Curtis, M. (eds.) The nature of vocabulary acquisition, 19-35. Hillside, NJ: Lawrence Eelbaum Associates.

Quigley, A. (2018). Closing the vocabulary gap. London: Routledge.