Several pieces of advice, given to me by my late PhD supervisor, have stood the test of time. I think that they do work together and can be useful in a number of work environments, and not just an academic environment:
The first,
“Never be impolite to someone, especially as you don’t know the progression of their career – they could be on the up and up or they could be experiencing something causing it to slow down”
The second,
“People have different opinions about ideas and of the past and challenging those opinions may make them feel emotional and perhaps even threatened. So, when you hear them, stand back, hear them out, think about it and work out where you stand and why.”
The third,
‘It’s ok to decide to agree to disagree. If someone can’t agree to take this option about an idea, a concept, a philosophical construct (he meant whether an archaeologist used the processualist or post-processualist approach)’ then this just indicates that the person isn’t secure in themselves about the approach that they adopt. It’s ok if one disagrees with you and you must never be forced or be under pressure to agree with someone else. Stand up for your views but always substantiate your views.”
These pieces of advice are connected to each other, which isn’t unsurprising in retrospect. Bruce, during my weekly tutorials when we discussed whatever it was, be it the work of another archaeologist, or an interpretation, or the use of a different intellectual stance (called an approach in archaeology) even in my work repeatedly reminded me that if I didn’t agree with the opinion or conclusions of someone else he expected me to understand where that person came from intellectually and then if I was still in disagreement , then agree to disagree. I knew that ‘I wasn’t allowed’, in his words, to just say ‘well, you have to agree with me’ nor should I just accept any requirement to agree with them.
Bruce insisted that his students had to comb through each debate, each published piece of work with a fine toothcomb to find the logical of their argument(s), to indicate clearly the data which supported their argument(s), to know exactly how and why someone arrived at their conclusions. All of this type of work was discussed with him.
Bruce was known as someone who strove for fairness and the right of everyone to have their point of view heard, never ignored. I knew that his colleagues in the department treated him as an individual who was capable of mediating between diverging points of view. I was unaware, at the time, that they were influenced by his standing in the discipline but at the time, I attributed his position to his seniority in the department, and his age. I knew that he was close to retiring age as the condition that he gave me for finishing within six years of starting my PhD (a North American PhD lasts 6 years in comparison to 3 years), was that I had to finish before he retired. So, I had a suspicion at the time, that he was respected not just for his work, but his seniority in the discipline. But I had no idea of his reputation in Canada, not just the globe and the discipline in general.
These pieces of advice are, were tough to put into practice, even back then. It would have been easy to just reject a particular world view or intellectual framework. I knew that Bruce would not permit us, his students, to just reject an intellectual approach or theory without any justifications. Everything had to be well thought through in minute detail – it was tough. He knew that I had strong reservations about the post-processual approach but at the same time he never made it clear what his own views were and if asked, he would tell you that it was our job to work out what he thought as we worked through each intellectual approach. I struggled at the outset of my PhD research with him as I knew that so many of my colleagues in archaeology, across the globe and back in the UK appeared to ‘accept’ almost without question the post processual approach. I even asked him one time how did one try out a theory or an approach. He gave me the following advice,
“Trying a theory, or an intellectual framework, is like trying something new at the supermarket. You go to a shelf, you take it down, have a look and you give it a try. Now if you don’t like it, when you go back to the supermarket when you do to the same shelf, you don’t pick it again and you try another one from the shelf until you find one that you like which fits you “
He gave this advice during one of the many weekly one to one tutorials, starting at 2pm, every Tuesday throughout my MA/PhD programme. Being broadminded, open minded and being understanding were, Bruce taught, part of recognising that one was working with intellectual abstract frameworks when talking about the past, and he meant the past to be found in both the archaeological, and the ethno-historical record. He reminded me that the understanding of the past and the present was not just political but fraught with danger and difficulties, so I had to be careful, painstaking even if I found it tough, frustrating and hard work.
This advice applies not just to what we discussed in those weekly tutorials but in many realms of contemporary life. Bruce was adamant that it was crucial to understand that when discussing what archaeologists call ‘theory’, great care had to be taken. I called his attention to the habit of many archaeologists to insist that there was an ‘in’ theory, a ‘right theory, and a ‘wrong theory’. He’d look at me through his glasses sternly, almost as if I was being reprimanded. He reminded me gently that there wasn’t a ‘right or wrong’ in terms of how to pick and choose and use an intellectual framework to use in one’s work. The point here, as Bruce taught, is that everyone had to be listened to…and that the notion that there is d ‘a belief of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’’ revealed that the time for thinking, listening or for rational argument had passed. His views come to mind whenever I see people getting hot under the collar on social media. People appear not to stop and just think as they jump to conclusions…. they immediately react causing eruptions on social media, the famous ‘Twitter storms’.
When was I given this advice? Probably during that first year of the MA/PhD but most definitely while I was working through the various different theories and intellectual perspectives (often called approaches) while I was writing one of the PhD bibliographic essays which were compulsory. As my PhD supervisor, Bruce requested a critical review of archaeological theory starting at the ‘birth’ of archaeology as a discipline. (Yes, the time range of the work reviewed in this essay was long!). He’d have given this advice before the first time I gave an academic paper at the ‘CAAs’ or the Canadian Annual Association meetings on another aspect of my doctoral work. It probably was the first conference …I say this as I remember his other advice about challenging academic ideas…that only those who had a PhD could be challenged. This was the key point, not whether they had a formal position in an academic institution. His rule was: if they have a PhD, they have the license to practice their profession. This meant that they should be able to cope with their ideas and their work being publicly challenged, questioned, considered, and debated. I remember him saying that if an individual didn’t have a PhD, then they needed to be treated kindly, with kid gloves, but after that PhD then the scenario differed. He was trying to tell me that as a graduate student, that I shouldn’t be challenged by others studying for their PhD. If they challenged then then they had deeper issues which weren’t mine to deal with.
Bruce was, as a supervisor, was very different from what I’d been told by others. I concluded that many of these ‘others’, often academics and researchers in Canada, had never met him face to face, but had heard him give talks. Before I met him in September 1998, I had heard other academics inform me that he was ‘frightening’. However, this isn’t how he came across in his email – I’d written him prior to even considering applying for a PhD that I really enjoyed his article and asked his opinion why did archaeologists appear to have ‘a specific favourite intellectual approach’? Perhaps this was a naive question – he struck me from the viewpoint of an undergraduate that he appeared confident from his articles. I remember that he wrote me a detailed reply. I later learned, while at McGill he thoroughly enjoyed teaching his undergraduate courses, didn’t want teaching assistants to help and that all of his students really enjoyed his courses. I’d written to say that I found the clarity of his arguments in an article that he’d written, really refreshing. It didn’t tell me how I ‘ought to think as an archaeologist’. It was this one:
Trigger, Bruce Graham. 1984. Alternative Archaeologies: Nationalist, Colonialist, Imperialist. Man New Series, 19(2): 355–370.
I only had corresponded by email briefly and from all accounts, from other people he was reserved, severe and “really brainy” – these aren’t my words. I’d reserved my own judgement until I met him.
The first time I met him, it was in his office, on the 7th Floor of the Leacock Building on the McGill campus. I remember thinking that he was a tall person sitting in a desk designed for someone much shorter. He, to me, had the appearance of an English educated academic but I knew that he’d spent time, after his PhD at Cambridge University. I say this as he looked like many of my parent’s older colleagues (I need to admit that both my parents are academics - I’d been told not to mention this to any of my new McGill colleagues.). I remember walking into the door of his office, which was I discovered later, was always open when he was in his office, to say hello and formally introduce myself and resolve a dilemma which I faced immediately. What struck me was that he presented the positive in each academic problem or dilemma that had several solutions and so you had to take a decision. He never just presented ‘the solution’ as he always outlined the dilemma in question, presented the alternatives and then we talked through the solutions, weigh up the options and took the most advantageous. Bruce always made a point of listening carefully and explaining every possibility of a decision that he thought was useful to the person that he was talking to, and he didn’t mind you asking questions, even if you wanted to check some reasoning.
I knew as he’d already given me his terms for studying with him as the principal supervisor – I had to finish before he retired from being a full professor, at McGill. So, tough call but I’d agreed to this condition. I’d heard that he was a tough but fair task master, but I also knew that many in Canada appeared to be frightened of him. At the time, I wasn’t sure why as I’d never met him. There was a downside to studying for a PhD at McGill. I’d been told that accepting the place entailed me having to take the MA/PhD track. The PhD offer letter made it clear that I’d have to take this option, but the rationale wasn’t clear. It turned out that the many of the faculty members had required this track as a requirement to admission to McGill that I successfully complete their MA course with a straight A Grade prior to doing a PhD with him. So if I had an – A I would not be allowed to proceed to the PhD. They were very unhappy about the fact that I had trained in another school of anthropology, in the UK, and suspected that I did not have a background in the North America school of anthropology with which they were familiar. Bruce told me that they were also not happy that he, Bruce, had proposed that he take another PhD student so close to his retirement from the department.
So, what was the solution? Bruce told me that he’d decided that I should do the MA in the first year and the MA and the PhD at the same time in the second year, and the PhD from then onwards until I finished. I was told that I had to get straight A’s and nothing else. I distinctly remember him telling me that I’d benefit and appreciate the range of intellectual frameworks and theories available to use as it would be mean that I’d be more au fait than my contemporaries from the UK with the American tradition. So, I followed his advice of taking MA courses in archaeology, anthropology, and ethno-history as, according to him, I should share his specialities in both archaeology and ethno-history. Admittedly I wasn’t that thrilled of auditing two extra MA courses per semester of the next year or so, on top of my usual programme as I figured that it was a lot of work! In the long run it was a minor price to pay for doctoral supervision as I ended up with training in several disciplines and be able to practice not only an archaeologist but an ethno-historian.
Taking advice is tough but giving advice isn’t easy either. Time has shown me that Bruce’s advice as to dealing with people who have different perspectives, theories, and methods remains ever more vital in today’s world.
Comentários