Don't Throw it Away!
by Catharine Randazzo, Ph.D.
Ours is a throwaway society. We use disposable cameras that we don't worry about losing. Tissues are easier than washing handkerchiefs. Baby wipes replace washcloths. And sometimes, feeling storm-tossed and exhausted in the midst of an enormous project such as the dissertation, we feel like throwing the whole thing out. But check that impulse! Some things are worth holding on to. Along with your self-esteem and your sanity, hold on to the initial view you had of your dissertation as a whole, and each part of it. Hold on to your vision!
The general process is to write. Ponder. Re-write. Have your writing evaluated. Have the plan adjusted. Ponder and write some more. This happens section after section, day after day, and month after month. Of course, the idea is to avoid extending this into one year after another. (It might sometimes feel like century after century!) If something akin to imagined senility, acquired in what seems like centuries of work, has obscured your initial vision for your dissertation, go find it! It is that initial idea that spurred the beast to action. Hang on tight! Don't throw it away!
I wish I could say that the following story is just a story, but it is true:
When I was at the beginning of my dissertation, I noticed some interesting "quirks" with one of my co-chairpersons. (Yes, that's right; I had TWO. I recommend against this most strongly!) I noticed that each evaluation brought me further away from the vision I had of my project. Luckily, my studies in psychology had me evaluating the behaviors of my evaluators. Luckily, too, I am a bit brazen at times.
First, I accepted that chairpersons have ideas that differ from ours, despite the initial agreements made. That sort of issue can often be resolved in discussion. Do try discussion. It often helps the relationship while unclogging the pipeline leading toward completion. Sadly, this was not so for me.
My next realization was more disturbing. More specifically, I realized the dissertation process was much like a wrestling match. For some, there is a struggle between Ph.D. candidate and a chairperson solely for the sake of the struggle. It seemed to me that my vision was getting lost in the expectation that the student must be wrong a certain (but undisclosed) number of times. Please do not misunderstand me. I am not accusing anyone of purposeful torture. It seemed more like a habit of thought or even an ego issue.
I then hypothesized that, perhaps, the chairperson in question simply responded to a deeply buried notion that the process of the dissertation is meaningful only under certain conditions. The much spoken of jumping-through-the-hoops idea could be in play. Perhaps, in the attempt to instruct, even to support, a chairperson feels the duty to revise and respond with suggestions, over and again. Thus, the more revisions made, the wiser the chairperson, and the more wisdom imparted to the suffering student. Ah, tradition.
In my case, the revisions drew me further and further from my vision. I felt like my dissertation was being dragged out to sea, with me in tow, as a new ersatz was being installed, by my own hand and against my will. It was the lost vision, not the product of all the revisions, that held my enthusiasm (as I had begun the dissertation with enthusiasm). The lost vision held the simple guidelines for where I meant the project to finish. Where was it? In my search, I found it in my first draft. So, this is what I did:
I resubmitted my first draft. Yes, that's what I said. I admit it. I'll even swear to it. It was a clean, newly printed copy, but it was my starting point. After months of revising and unsuccessful verbal meetings of the minds, I just reprinted what I felt was my best work. That first draft was just what I meant for that dissertation to be. I held my breath, awaited the potential explosion and the spilling of red ink in ugly scribbles of error marks and angrily suggested revisions. The draft came back with just one comment: This is what I've been looking for.
You most probably do not have my chairpersons advising you. So, why do I tell you this? I'm relating my experience because I learned something about my method of project construction. After an initial sigh of exasperation, I realized that I can, and should, refer to my starting point during the extended process. The initial drafts might not be pretty, and they probably will not be perfect. But since that first draft is created temporally close to the vision, and since it is untainted by others' revisions, it is likely to hold the spirit of the information I want to share with others. Will the same be true of you? Don't throw it away!
Just for the record, this little trick of resubmitting an "old" version of my work is not an isolated event. It has worked for me each time I've tried it. But use it sparingly if you choose to use it at all. It is not for everyone. And keep that first draft anyway. A first draft, even if not resubmitted, is useful in several ways. Use that initial, un-revised version of work to keep your project's vision in focus. Use it to gauge your progress (in case your advisors are right). Use it as kindling when your final draft is filed! But don't throw it away!
About Catharine E. Randazzo, PhD