The thesis: an unnecessarily traumatic endeavour
While the rest of us are out enjoying the sunshine, many students are cooped up indoors working on their dissertations and wondering what it’s all for, observes our columnist Kirsty McHenry. “The eternal question remains: What the hell is a theoretical framework, anyway?”
A year on from finishing my thesis, I almost feel guilty admitting that I have spent much of the past week basking in the heat and picnicking in the city’s various lush, grassy parks. As I say this, I have to avoid looking at friends who are still finishing their academic education directly in the eye. It’s clear from the exhaustion on their faces, that they, like thousands of other UvA students, have spent those same sultry days deep in the trenches with their thesis projects. Holed up inside while the rest of us frolic in the sun, many of them are undoubtedly questioning what it’s all for. At least, this is what I repeatedly asked myself while writing my own thesis. That, and the perennial question: What the hell is a theoretical framework, anyway?
First proper foray
There are few especially fortunate souls who manage to get through their thesis relatively unscathed, but for most, the process is not so smooth. Part of this turbulence arises from the fact that the thesis project is many students’ first proper foray into conducting their own original research. If more degrees were peppered with opportunities for individual research then the experience would likely be less confounding. Instead, the thesis solemnly awaits students at the end of their degree, appearing to simultaneously be a test of everything they’ve learnt throughout their studies and something for which they’re entirely unprepared.
Students are understandably reliant on their supervisor, their peers, and their university for guidance through the process, yet, despite this, writing a thesis tends to be a very isolating endeavour. During my own thesis, I went from being initially desperate for help to finding it increasingly difficult to ask for. As time drew on, I came to fear that the whole project would fall apart as soon as someone finally looked closely enough to notice the cracks. Like anyone who has ever attempted to write a thesis, I needed outside perspectives to help ground both me and my work before one or other spiralled out of control. Good academic research cannot be done in isolation; however, a lot of thesis courses lack the constancy of processes like peer-reviews, thoughtful feedback, and the sharing of experience. As a result, many students are left feeling like they must figure it all out on their own.
Out of track
Ideally, degree programmes should function like long runways upon which students can gradually build momentum as they work towards their thesis. Instead, just as most students are beginning to get a firm handle on their research, the approaching deadline can make it feel as though they’re rapidly running out of track. Given the intensity of the experience, it’s hardly surprising that many students feel burnt out at the end of their degrees. The stress of trying to produce a final product that seems worthy of the occasion can become so overwhelming that even the students who do make their deadlines have typically reached their limit with academia by the time of submission.
Deadline
Although I am only now able to look back on my own thesis-writing experience without cringing, there are still moments when I find myself fretting over the details and the decisions I made at the time. But, while the thesis is the conclusion of most students’ university degrees, it is also, in many ways, still just a first attempt. No matter how much confusion or agony is felt while writing a thesis, inevitably, the final grade only reflects that which ultimately makes it onto the page. So, perhaps a better gauge of success would be what students manage to take away from the long run up to the submission deadline.
Kirsty McHenry is alumus at the UvA.
