was it work?

So, was it work?

It sounds like a laid back, sunny kind of gig… to go on sabbatical to California. It’s difficult to remember quite what I was expecting before I went, and when I was there most days were ‘on the hoof’ decisions about how best to spend my time. Did I make new research contacts? Did I get lots of writing and reading done? Did I have any great revelations about what I should be the next grand research project? What was the point of it all… intellectually, academically, self-developmentally?

First… it was a good gig! I rested up, I de-stressed, I spent a lot of time outdoors, I slept sometimes, didn’t reply to most departmental and university circulars, I ate lots, I did fun things. I think I needed all that. I had two weeks of proper holidays (Virginia and California with James). The preceding year was full of stuff… not just in the personal realm (the small issues of marriage, selling a house, moving, sister’s wedding) but also some hard logistics in teaching and running a research team working on an intensive and unpredictable project. I was flat out, and arriving in SF and going straight into the AAG conference was exhausting. So, the relaxing aspect of the sabbatical was important to me, and I’m very grateful for it.

Second. I didn’t ‘break’ America. I’m not sure quite how I imagined it in my mind, maybe going to a number of different universities, giving a number of talks in well filled lecture halls, looking round studios and taking part in some informal teaching. That would have been good, but logistically it didn’t happen. I didn’t have enough contacts to start with, some contacts fell by the wayside, and some ended up in organisational muddles. I thought a few might transpire from the AAG but that turned out to be an impossible place to meet anyone! It was helpful to understand and unpack a little of the research context in the US, especially through conversations with Patsy (Davis), Jeff and Lynne (Seattle), but none of it was quite the fluid gregarious introductions I’d secretly hoped for. So I’m not magically famous.

But I did strengthen some of the friendships that have been and are important to me in my research thinking, conversations with Kye (Northumbria), Penny (OPENspace, Edinburgh), Gabrielle (CUNY and San Francisco) and even Rosie and Vicky from the architecture department at Sheffield… all whom I had the opportunity to discuss issues in more depth. It was really helpful to meet up with these people who I see all too infrequently. Both conferences lead to some interesting and possibly productive new connections, mainly in the UK. Being mutually abroad does give you space for long chats, shared meals, absence of distraction.

I lived as a foreigner. It’s difficult to write about this experience without sounding glib or patronising to people like my research participants who immigrate for good between countries far less similar than the US and the UK. But hopefully my entries here give some insight to the little contradictions, perplexions and wonderments of living in a place that does not feel like home. I thought about it a lot. And I’m thinking about it now as I write this in Leeds.

Pedagogically, I essentially carried out self-directed research. This is something I’m interested in with regards to the landscape curriculum, and in particular with regard to field trips (my dissertation study for my M.Ed). The ‘free time’ I had in SF, and especially in Seattle and Portland, felt really alive with questions. I made my own itineraries, I followed leads, I investigated in advance and followed up by futher reading. I spent my own time choosing to stay or move on… taking photos, noting, watching. Even the conferences were very much in my own hands; what I attended and how I interacted. Intellectually, it’s the greatest gift in the world. It’s how we are grown-up.

Research-wise, in terms of thinking about culture, and immigration and place, I feel I’ve meandered my way along a number of interesting paths. The US really is the best place to witness and digest these issues. I don’t think I’ve had any major revelations, but I come back to the UK with fresh eyes towards the field. Design-wise, I’ve had a fantastic kick up the butt. Again, Seattle and Portland were really important for questioning design ideas, intentions, execution, materials, social uses, cultural issues. I would love to bring a bunch of students here, there is so much to look at and learn from. This trip has been a crucial revitalisation of my ability to deeply look, experience and critically evaluate designs. As a teacher, it’s important to keep going back to that.

Which brings me to this blog. I think I mainly envisaged it as a handy way to keep in touch with a scattering of family and friends and one husband. But I found it a vital part of the whole experience. Being able to write has helped me reflect, form ideas, shape questions. It gave me a space for critical comment that would be read by friendly eyes. It has been a form of experiment in thinking, in seeing if my ponderings actually makes sense in black and white. It also slowed me down… often spending an hour or two at a time writing and editing, sorting through photos, thinking about the story to tell. I found it frustrating when plans meant that I couldn’t digest in this way, when I needed to plan in my head and write at a distance. It helped me when I was exploring places, prompting me to question “what is interesting about this place?” and also “What do I think about it?”. Though this may not seem familiar to those that know me, I often find it hard to form opinions, it’s easier to see both sides of the issue or not be quite sure whether my gut decision is actually defensible. Writing my thoughts on places up like this in a public forum is a little vulnerable, but it means that I need to shape opinions, need to give (my few!) readers something to chew on.

Writing regularly is a skill I’ve enjoyed exercising. It’s been a great break not to be producing academic tight prose, clear but encouraging design briefs, or formal reports. I’ve always taken pleasure in writing, but these things can kill creativity. This has been a different format, outlet and audience. It’s been fun to think about how I can write about places and experience of place in an accessible way, and how I share something of my enthusiasm for landscape. My brief to focus on place was generously fuzzy round the edges, but I think that’s the fun of it. Sometimes, being somewhere is about drinking alarmingly green drinks!

In a similar vein, after meeting up with Gabrielle and our discussion on photography, I resolved to use the space of the sabbatical to try and really think about and improve my photography skills. Landscapes are difficult to photograph due to their wide format, people using landscapes can be embarrassing to photograph, and it’s easy to end up with a lot of fairly uninformative, unthoughtful images. I’ve tried to slow down on this, to take photographs with intention, and to take time to evaluate them afterwards, to select and edit them.

Sometimes I did feel a little like I wasn’t working hard enough, paying attention to my responsibilities in the department, not being a proper academic, or not making the most of this career forming opportunity. But after 9 years in the saddle I know I can mostly do these things, even if I wobble in my confidence at times. My time in the US, in all sorts of intangible and complex ways, has given me a fantastic extra chunk of experience to live off. Being able to step back from ‘producing academic outputs’, being able to refresh and renew your enthusiasm for your subject, having the space to be in-direct… all these things have been a most excellent and important sort of work.

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And thank you to James for finding us a lovely house as well as everything else, to Rachel for having me to stay in the most marvellous manner, to Cathy and Anna for holding the fort at work, to Helen B for my one bit of incoming proper post, and to Mum for the security padlocks, large holdall and natty headphones.