Starting PhD research — Nicola Naismith

June 2025

Is it folly to attempt a PhD as a mid-life dyslexic single parent with health conditions? Not sounding promising, is it. It's been a while since I took on such a long and challenging endeavour. I can, however, remind myself that it is the long and challenging nature of a PhD that interests me.

I wanted to undertake a PhD to develop my MA work, which I completed 20+ years ago, but I lacked the wherewithal and practical information necessary to make an application. I couldn't figure out the steps I needed to take or how on earth I would pay for it. I had secured an Arts and Humanities Research Council MA studentship, which made attending that programme possible, and I knew I would need funding support again to be able to pursue doctoral study. Becoming a parent, caring for a sick parent and experiencing their death, again, my ambitions became secondary. Holding an aspiration over a long period can be challenging and destructive; idealised imaginings of what it would be like grow, sometimes in unrealistic directions.

If I had undertaken my PhD when I originally wanted to, I might have found it easier with my life essentially geared towards work and being an artist, setting up collaborative initiatives, participating in professional development programmes, pursuing opportunities and making applications, showing work, setting up residencies and working on commissions. My work and life were intertwined; I was on a strong and rigorous trajectory, and I enjoyed it. However, I also struggled as a first-generation artist and academic. In my art practice, I regularly spent more than I was paid, and in my academic life, I survived for years on a combination of hourly paid teaching and means-tested benefits. I didn't understand the arts or academic systems, how they worked or didn't work for people from my background. At the time I was unaware of research about working-class academics and insights into class and cultural workers only emerged later. I didn't know how to talk about, get support for or work with my dyslexia. Wider conversations of disability were thin on the ground back then.

I started my PhD in October 2024 thanks to Arts and Humanities Research Funding via the North-West Consortium Doctoral Training Partnership . The funding makes this level and duration of study possible. During the induction, I was fortunate to hear from Professor Jackie Carter, who shared insights from her career trajectory, her experiences with disability, and her work around inclusion. Hearing from people with lived experiences which fall outside of the projected norm is incredibly important, as it offers insight and reassurance. The message was clear: you are welcome; there is a place for you here. In other induction activities, there was an acknowledgement that throughout a PhD (3 years full-time or 6 years part-time), there are likely to be bumps in the road related to the research study but also on domestic and personal fronts - this healthy dose of realism was reassuring. Hearing about how difficulties can appear before the PhD even gets started was crucial as it deeply resonated. I started my new chapter as a PhD student, most decidedly on the back foot.

Drawing of two dice — Nicola Naismith (2025) *You don’t need to throw a double six to start.*

I had a foolish notion I would start this PhD study from a place of excellent organisation and good health. Neither materialised due to a busy life as a working single mother, my neurodiversity, an extended redundancy process, and medication which didn't work as I needed it to. There is also the ever-expanding to-do list - that we all have - related to the physical, digital and relational realms. Under these existing pressures, the PhD felt like a huge mountain to begin climbing and I didn't feel equipped. I soon realised I didnt need to throw a double six to start, I didnt need to delay the start untill things were right or spend anymore time waiting. I also knew once I started I would need to keep this long piece of work in perspective, which can be a challenge with a PhD as there is always something to be read, written, attended, presented, submitted or considered.

Last year, I read Jo Verrent's letter Dear work, we need to talk which has now been made into a video. The context of this piece is the arts and there are key points that connect with both my PhD student life, my research topic, and my own working life as an artist. Verrent calls for a better and more honest conversation about work and how sustainable it is. Again, I can relate. For such a long time, I have relied on tenacity to carry me through, but this seems to have, perhaps temporarily deserted me. I'll have to find another way. When I was in the midst of my Clore Fellowship seven years ago, I clearly remember leadership styles being described as sprint or marathon; the sprinter does the short-term high-energy projects, and the marathon runner does the ongoing work. I have before fallen into the trap - in some senses created by the way work is now organised - of sprinting for the duration of a marathon, never taking a proper break - running myself into the ground. If I do this with the PhD, I will burn out - so a change my approach is needed. I want to see if I can train myself to take a marathon approach and experiment with how to take things at a modest pace. This is going to take some unlearning of existing habits.

I started drafting this in November and picked it up again in February - coincidentally on the day of the Trade Union Congress initiative 'Work Your Proper Hours Day'. This annual event day highlights the issue of the 3.8 million people who did unpaid overtime in 2024 to a value of £31 billion. Most of the PhD is self-directed - the pace, intensity, and the order of tasks to be completed. I mainly manage my workload and myself with the support of my research supervisors. There are targets to meet that necessitate working overtime to meet deadlines, but the critical note to self is to remember to take back the time owed and step away from the screen. This is something that I did this morning, checking on the allotment, planting out the last of the courgettes with my fingers crossed the slugs and snails dont get at them.

Nicola Naismith (2025) *Step away from the screen*

So, is it folly to be doing this PhD now, with my combination of life circumstances? Well maybe, but given my various ducks are never going to be neatly in a row, there is never a right time, now really is as good a time as any. As my supervisor reminded me, the experiences I have of working in the arts and academia as a first-generation practitioner are going to impact my research positively. Besides, I've started now. I'm completing this blog just before I have my end-of-year review meeting, which I need to pass in order to progress to the next academic year. The text I wrote, part of a literature review, has been submitted, and I'm trying to put to one side the mistakes and omissions which now - with some distance of time - feel glaringly obvious. Fingers crossed, I do pass and have the opportunity to keep going**.

*With thanks to Polly Cruse for the loan of some of her duck collection.
**I did pass and can progress to next year.

Starting PhD study: a new start in mid-life