I picked up Alison, one of my oldest and dearest friends who found me again during college at Auburn after twelve long years apart when I moved from Montgomery to Auburn, from her house in Bessemer on my way to Tuscaloosa. I was flushed from the excitement and uncertainty, from the exertion of making sure the bottled water were safely in the Yeti, my attempt to take care of the committee with my thoughtfulness as I wanted them to focus more on listening to my faltering words rather than on their own thirst. I do want every member on my committee to be comfortable and cared for. I grinned at Alison, who gently eased herself into the passenger seat since she was heavily blessed. She was due to give birth to Adelind next month, on Thanksgiving Day. I was thinking how blessed to have her love and willingness to enter the rival territory with me to take notes for me while I strain to absorb all the suggestions and questions from the five-member committee. As it was, we were pushing the time as I barreled down 59.
Once I finally maneuvered the Armada onto University Boulevard, I breathed a bit easier. Only 25 minutes until the meeting. Darting my eyes left and right, looking for the closest parking space as I neared the corner where Graves Hall sat, I saw the best, closest public parking spot. I dropped Alison off up closer to the building and drove around the stadium to hopefully grab that coveted parking spot. It was still open and I immediately parallel-parked into it, with a cop car looking on. Settling my rapid heartbeat as I climbed out, smoothing down a crimson-colored flowy top, crimson/black/khaki-plaid scarf, and khaki-colored leggings complete with knee-high black heeled boots, I grabbed my ever-loyal doctoral tote purse that I had used for all my doctoral classes, with the meeting handouts inside. I hurried to Graves Hall, the familiar hurrying pace as two previous meetings with Dr. Major.
Once inside, I glimpsed the blonde hair of my friend and turned right towards the room. Graves 104. Dr. Major and Dr. Webb were already there, chatting. I smiled tentatively at them as I placed my bag down. Dr. Major informed that Alison and I were to step out at the start of the meeting, then I give my presentation, answer questions before stepping out again for the committee to confer. I nodded my consent, and then Dr. Gilchrist entered, smiling. I introduced her to Dr. Webb, hearing her exclaim that she had been emailing Dr. Webb that she was finally pleased to meet him in person. Dr. Holley came next. Dr. Major nodded for Alison and I to go ahead and step out. As we were settling on the bench outside, Dr. Hardy hurried to the door, which was locked. Grimacing he knocked. The door opened and he disappeared within. I turned to look at Alison, grinning widely, "So?!"
She shared how before I arrived, Dr. Webb was bragging about my organizational skills of preparing for the prospectus meeting, that my work was well-prepared at this stage of the dissertation process. I told her that I already met with Dr. Webb few weeks ago to get his input in person due to his being at Gadsden Center. I wanted to talk to somebody on my committee in person to get a feel of how things were progressing concerning my own dissertation journey.
The door opened and Dr. Major smiled, motioning us in. We filed in and sat. Dr. Major looked at me and invited me to begin. I smiled, my heartbeat starting to speed up warming my cheeks, and began by thanking the committee for coming and helping me out. I introduced everyone to each other, including Alison. Then I started explaining, though in a faltering way for some reason I did not know why, that I was proposing to do pragmatic qualitative research with autobiographical and phenomenological overtones. That I wanted to connect theory with practice using Fink's taxonomy on significant learning. I rushed over my presentation, mindful of Dr. Major's emailed recommendation that I keep it under ten minutes to allow for questions from the committee. When I breathefully finished in a uncertain way, Dr. Major prompted, "Is that all?" I startled at her question. At this point, I was too strung up. I was not afraid of Dr. Major, Dr. Webb, Dr. Gilchrist, Dr. Hardy, and Dr. Holley.....but having them all stare at me in such a strong, concentrated way while I was fumbling over pronouncing big words such as pedagogy and phenomenology. I knew I should have written down at least an outline of what I would say to prepare myself instead of floundering a bit, stumbling over trying to say big words. I love giving presentations! I thrive on speaking in front of an audience, but this was different. This was intense for some reason....
Dr. Holley began the questioning by voicing her concerns about my using my own students for the research. "Do you think that may be problematic?" she asked. I stared at her, trying to organize my thoughts. The desire to explain why I want to do the research without having to go by the theoretical and research approach frameworks was growing stronger. Dr. Holley asked more similar questions, which I responded, feeling more heat. Thankfully, my palms were not sweaty.
Dr. Hardy asked, "How would you define pedagogy?" Looking in his direction, I realized he was right for raising that question. However I responded, I remembered thinking that I did not want to use the word pedagogy anymore.
Dr. Gilchrist in her sweet, expressive way, inquired, "What is the significance of this study? How would this study benefit the practitioners, faculty, the students?" I could feel a smile teasing the corners of my lips. I nodded and responded that it would be important for the study to understand how the writing prompts would help students see the possibility of writing college-level papers.
Dr. Webb shared his concern about my use of autobiographical and phenomenological overtones and that with autobiographical part, I "might be biting off more than I could handle." He pointed out that phenomenological part might still work. I leaned forward, as to get closer in the conversation since he sat completely opposite of the long conference table and said that I still want to insert my personal perspectives about the writing. I strongly wanted to juxtapose my own perspectives and experiences with the writings of my students.
Dr. Major followed my train of thought by having stated that I could do phenomenology because it sounded like I wanted to do the "bracketing." While I was grateful for her willingness for me to have the best research approach for my research, I did not feel right about her saying that I could do phenomenology.
At some point, I felt my voice catch when I defended the reason why I wanted to do research on the effectiveness of writing prompts and that my doing the writing prompts was the way I could reach out to my own students. And for me to do a research on other students would be hard, if not impossible. I could not simply interview people. I needed writing to get the information.
After more questions and input from the committee, Dr. Major then announced that Alison and I may step outside. She then asked that we sit further away as to not listen to the conferring. Alison assured that she could not hear anything the last time we stepped out, and I remarked how I could not hear anything at all. I smiled as I said that, and Dr. Holley responded with a look on her face as if she was sympathetic. I smiled even bigger. Well, it was true! I could not eavesdrop even if I could have tried.
Once back sitting on the bench outside, I turned to Alison, "Well? What do you think? Don't you love my committee!?" She said she's been learning a lot and that I was blessed to have such intelligent, thoughtful individuals serving on my committee. While she went to the ladies' room, I read her handwritten notes. Two things pestered in my mind. I felt like stepping back inside to defend those two things. Regrettably, I could not remember those two things.
Alison returned, and I explained to her the differences between research approaches were similar to the branches of Christianity. That pragmatism was strictly objective, whereas autoethnography was strongly subjective.
The door opened, Dr. Holley stood before us, briefly saying she enjoyed the time and "Nice to meet you, Alison" before continuing walking past us. Alison and I looked at each other and stepped back in the conference room. Dr. Major had moved to Dr. Holley's chair, her written notes in front of her. Dr. Hardy and Dr. Webb were chatting in low tones, and Dr. Gilchrist was smiling at us, watching as Dr. Major explained to me that the committee had talked and agreed with these two options. I listened. When she said that the first option would be autoethnography and that the research question would be about my teaching experience using writing prompts, my mind immediately latched on the word "autoethnography." As Dr. Major continued explaining the second option, I did not even listen or even nod. I recalled vaguely that the second option still used pragmatism.
I smiled at Dr. Major and answered her "which option?" with the gleeful response: "The first option!" She looked over to Dr. Gilchrist, "I told you so." Without looking at Dr. Gilchrist, I could feel her chuckling smile. Dr. Gilchrist smilingly added, "You would be better focused on the research topic." She went on and explained why she did an entire chapter on her researcher positionality. "You seemed to be more focused on centering your research around the method rather the research question." Touche.
I felt as if this huge burden has lifted from my shoulders when Dr. Major confirmed that I had indeed received committee approval for my using autoethnography as my research method. And I even adored the research question they created just for me.
She gave me even more good news by stating that I could go ahead and do the IRB application. "Really?!" I gaped, smiling. She chuckled and nodded yes. I wanted to jump up and down and also hug her, but did not due to our being in a professional setting.
After thanking Dr. Major and Dr. Hardy for their support, I told Dr. Gilchrist that I loved her dissertation and that I hoped mine would be readable. She assured me, "Yes of course, it would be readable."
Dr. Webb was the last to leave and I asked him a few more questions concerning researcher positionality. Alison and I then walked out of Graves Hall, I felt like my steps were lighter. Now I understood this metaphor "walking on the clouds" as I talked over the meeting with Alison. I shared with her that autoethnography was the approach I had wanted all along, but I had to get Dr. Major to feel okay with the blessing of the committee.
No, I did not see the time spent studying pragmatic qualitative research as a waste of time. I am glad for every minute spent, because all helps confirm my doing autoethnography. I can better defend my using the autoethnographic method to bring up why I cannot use the more objective approaches.
The prospectus meeting (the unusual meeting for a doctoral student to have, since only proposal and dissertation defense meetings typically occur during the dissertation process) lasted not fifteen minutes, but almost an hour and half hours from 10:30 a.m. until 11:45 a.m. Time for some lunch in some appealing café, which I finally found after having driven through campus and back, called 5, two blocks off University Boulevard.