Tag: education

academia, skills, undergraduate

Undergraduate Survival Guide: How to Read an Academic Article or Book

This post takes its inspiration from something I’m working on in one of my upper division courses this semester, which is guiding a group of History majors (and a couple of willing History minors) who are on the cusp of graduating through their first real research project. Like most undergraduates, they’ve written papers for which they’ve done research, but they haven’t done an actual research paper before and I am slowly coming to grips with the fact that there’s not a lot of great stuff out there to guide them through it.

So, as I did with the Grad School Survival Guide … I’m writing some of my own.

From my end (professor), it goes like this: I assign an article or part of a book in a class, and I ask my students what they think of it, and I get blank stares. And like many of my colleagues on the junior ends of things, I get a little frustrated.

What do you mean you don’t have any thoughts on the book?

And then I start thinking about one of the things that I admitted in the post I wrote for what eventually became the Grad School Survival Guide, that this is something:

  1. I had to learn how to do on my own
  2. I didn’t actually learn how to do until I was in graduate school …
  3. … the second time.

So, let me turn this around and imagine that I’m a student being handed an article by a professor who then proceeds to ask me what I thought of it.

The, um, font was pretty?

And the reason for this is that you have to change the way you think about what you’re reading, and also how you approach it.

Now, I’m talking mostly about books here, but if you have an article, keep reading. They’re structured similar to the way that books from academic presses are.

Where books come from and why it matters

You see, when two books love each other very much … (OK, OK, dad joke.)

When you first get to university, you probably encounter the corporately produced textbook. A lot of these are going open source (which I’m not against), but in the liberal arts (and some other fields), you’ll eventually get assigned a book that almost always has a Catchy Title: followed by one, two, or three things that make the title very long.

We’re not here to talk about textbooks, or I’ll be ranting all day and we’ll get nowhere. We’re here to talk about the other books you’re more likely to encounter in an upper division class. The ones you’re asked your thoughts about.

These fall into two categories, which often look very similar: books published by academic presses (these are almost always named for a university, plus a couple of others like Routledge or Bloomsbury), and books published by popular presses (these are names you’ll recognize: Doubleday, Knopf, Penguin, Random House, etc.).

There are different flavors of book: the most common is the monograph, so-called because it has a single author. You may also come across a book jointly written by more than one author, in which it’s not clear who wrote what, or an edited volume, in which each chapter is written by a different person.

Academic presses

For most academics (people with Ph.Ds), the gold standard from our perspective is putting our research out with academic presses. There are many reasons for this, and they are not relevant here. The biggest difference between a book from an academic press and a popular press (other than the cost) is that most books from most academic presses (yes, I’m adding qualifiers so I don’t get loads of comments) go through a process known as double blind peer review. (Most articles in academic journals go through the same process).

This is a process where I, an author, send my manuscript to the publisher who sends it to two reviewers without any information that identifies me as the author. The reviewers read the manuscript and give feedback to the press (“is this book worth publishing?”) and to the author (“this area seems weak, can you find more sources?”) The publisher then sends me their feedback without telling me who they are (hence, the double-blind aspect).

So, academic books have been reviewed (theoretically) by someone who knows something about the subject being discussed and has told the press that the book is worth publishing. The flip side–and the reason I’m telling you about the different kinds of presses–is that most authors don’t actually include “this book was peer reviewed” in their introduction. Occasionally you’ll see a reference to the “anonymous reviewers” in the list of people the author thanks in their intro, but that’s about it.

Popular presses

Popular press books are also reviewed prior to publication, but the process is different. Some academic authors send their manuscripts to them, just structured for a different audience (more on that in a bit). In other cases, the press might seek someone out who knows about a topic they’re keen to publish on, sometimes quickly (hence the number of books that appear after elections and major events–these are solicited by publishing houses because they know people will buy them).

Review at popular presses isn’t always blind, and it may also focus more on publishability (“is the book readable and understandable?”) than it does on the quality of the content in the way that an academic press might. This is not to say that books published by popular presses are better or worse (and if your professor assigned it, it’s probably for good reason), but it is something to keep in mind, especially if you’re doing a research project and wandering through the stacks or doing an online search for suitable material.

Photo by Tara Winstead on Pexels.com

I have a book in my hand. Now what?

Nearly all academic books have the same structure:

  1. Presentation of argument
  2. Historiography
  3. Plan

This will almost always be in the introductory chapter (which, depending on the press, may be titled “introduction” or Chapter 1). In books published by popular presses, however, the historiography section usually appears in the notes at the back of the book.

Academic articles will have a presentation of argument and a historiography, although they may be ordered differently. Usually they don’t include a plan, since most articles aren’t long enough to need one.

Let’s look at what each of these entail:

Presentation of argument

This is where the author offers their thesis or argument. This is the key difference between a survey book or a textbook and an academic book, and why your instructor has different expectations of what you’ll get out of it: rather than a recitation of facts, the author has compiled material to support their thesis, which is an evidence-driven argument that is presented in the rest of the book.

In the early part of the introductory chapter, the author will give background information, and, in the typical style you learned in high school, will begin to narrow their topic before the thesis statement appears. It will look like:

  1. “[Name of book] argues that …”
  2. “In [Name of book], I explore … by …”
  3. a definitive statement that is followed by a lot of persuasive language (“will show”). These are a little harder to find, but you’ll notice that the progression of information stops and there’s a lot of discussion about this sentence.

This is the sentence you want to identify, highlight, write in the margins if it’s your book, etc. This is what the book is actually about. Everything else in the book is the author’s attempt to demonstrate the accuracy of this statement.

Historiography

Shortly thereafter, you will see reference to other scholars, authors, books, and articles. It’s probably not the most interesting section and you’ll be tempted to skip it. If you’re engaging on a research paper or project, though, you really shouldn’t — this section will tell you who else has written on this topic and how the book you’re reading fits in with them: agreement, disagreement, filling in a gap, answering a question posed, etc.

In a book from a popular press, again, this section is more likely to appear in the notes section at the end of the book, rather than within the text itself.

Historiography, as the name suggests, is specific to the discipline of history: it’s the study of how people have written about history and historic events.

The technical name for an in-line (meaning: it appears within the text itself, rather than as an appendix) historiographical section is a literature review. If it’s appended to the end, and shows as a list of books with notes about each title, it’s an annotated bibliography. These two terms are not discipline-specific to history, although their structure and format can differ in other areas of study. If you have to write one, ask your instructor for guidance.

Plan

The plan section is one of the most important sections of the introduction, but it is also the section most students skip right over because they just want to get started. This is actually a mistake.

The plan outlines the book, chapter by chapter, and is where the author lays out how they’re going to structure the presentation of evidence in support of their argument. In Chapter 1, I’ll do this. In Chapter 2, I’ll do that. And so on.

This is actually very important if you’re expected to present part of the book in class, because you’ll want to be able to explain how your chapter follows the ones that come before, and sets up the ones that come after. You shouldn’t have to figure it out for yourself – the author’s done the work for you!

The rest of the book

I’m not going to cover the mechanics of reading, but a word to the wise: if you’re covering an entire book in one or two class sessions, it’s not likely you’ll be asked to recite data covered on page 84. The discussion is most likely to cover the book’s argument and how well the author did demonstrating their point.

And you can read accordingly: efficiently and quickly. Generally you want to read the chapter introduction and conclusion, and read the first and last sentence of each paragraph; if you don’t understand the progression, then skim the paragraph itself.

Pay attention to the flow of the argument, and don’t be afraid to take note of logic leaps or things that don’t entirely make sense. These are good starting points for discussion in class.

Practice, practice, practice

The easiest way to get used to identifying these parts of a book is practice locating them. Go to the library, pick up a few random titles, and see if you can do it. The more accustomed you become to identifying these structural elements, the easier it will be to get what you need out of a book quickly–and correctly–and also to have an answer when your professor asks what you thought of the reading.

egypt

Ramadan in Egypt, Pt 2

Sitting down to write this while Ramadan is still going on. In fact, this week is a holiday triple-header: Today, Sunday, April 16, is Coptic Easter. Tomorrow is Sham Al-Naseem, the traditional Egyptian spring festival, and Thursday is the first day of Eid al-Fitr, the “feast of the breaking of the fast” which ends Ramadan.

There’s no way to ignore Eid. Look at these ads I got from Amazon:

I’m trying really hard not to read anything into Amazon suggesting that what I need for Eid is a case of deodorant (they also think I need Tide detergent and a jumbo pack of diapers).

So, let’s get into it shall we?

Are there Ramadan decorations like there are Christmas decorations?

Yes…and how!

One of the things you hear over and over in Egypt is that Ramadan is different here than anywhere else in the Islamic world (I have nothing to compare this to, so maybe they say this everywhere else, too).

One of the unique things here is that, as Christmas decorations revolve around various permutations of pine trees (Christmas trees, wreathes, etc.), in Egypt decorating for Ramadan revolves around the fannous, or lantern.

In fact, there are more than a few decorations combining the fannous of Ramadan and the candle associated with the Easter vigil — in Orthodox Christianity the big Easter service is very late on Saturday night; churches descend into total darkness, and then at midnight candles are lit to symbolize the resurrection of Jesus. Traditionally it’s supposed to be a “miraculous flame” but the last time I went to one you could hear them trying to get the lighter to work.

You can find actual lanterns and things that approximate lanterns everywhere, although the best selection is in the area known as Taht al-Rabaa’, in the old city of Cairo between Port Said Street and Bab Zuwayla, and then continuing into the tentmaker’s market, Khan al-Khayamiyya.

How does life change during Ramadan?

I’ll be honest – the first day of Ramadan I really wasn’t sure what to make of things.

26th of July Street in Zamalek at 6 pm on the 1st of Ramadan. This street is normally chaos personified with bumper-to-bumper traffic.
Lots of decorations, but where’s the party??

So, to answer the question: how does life change? Not much happens between, say, 2 pm and sunset (which right now is around 6 pm — Egypt is doing Daylight Saving Time this year for the first time in seven years, but they decided to push the start back until after Ramadan ends).

The collection I’ve been working in closes at 1:30 and there’s another rush hour as most government offices seem to let non-essential personnel go home around then. Most smaller stores close around 3 so that people can go home to prepare for Iftar (breakfast, which, literally, combines the two words “break” and “fast”).

Then, around 8, things open back up again until 2 am (which is when the government decided things need to close down). Then there’s another meal (suhoor) before fasting starts again for the dawn prayer (fajr), which this morning was at 3:57 am; many people then read the Qur’an (it’s tradition to read/recite the entire text over the course of Ramadan, and during the month Anghami — which is the Middle Eastern version of Spotify — has popular reciters and the section of the scripture for that day ready to go).

So, yes, many people do, in fact, stay up all night and then sleep in the afternoon – I’ve been told this is an Egyptian thing but it seems kind of like it would apply everywhere else, too.

This generally means that by midafternoon, there’s a notable energy lag, which is why not a lot happens after about 2 pm.

The third week of Ramadan is the longest. Even as a non-fasting non-Muslim in Egypt, I have noticed this. The first week people are getting into it, the second week people are in the groove. The third week … is long. The fourth week, everyone’s ready for Eid! Hope you made your plane/train/hotel reservations months ago — everyone travels, and I’m kind of looking forward to having Cairo to myself … or as much as one can in a city of 22 million people.

Ramadan food!

I often tell students (and other groups that I work with) that, while the first comparison that most people make is between Ramadan and Lent, there’s a case to be made that it’s really to Christmas. It’s when people see family, everyone gets together, and there’s. so. much. food. I’ve been to a couple of Iftars and walked out staggering beneath the weight of my own bloat every time. Even when you think you’re done eating, someone will come along and inform you that you’re not.

and so. many. desserts.

Every family has their own traditions. I can’t even start to generalize. Google “Ramadan recipes.”

In Egypt the quintessential Eid dessert is “Kahk al Eid” (or “Eid Cake”). Currently there are signs everywhere for them – and, yes, you can get them from Amazon (although why would you want to??).

It’s alive!

So, a couple of weeks ago I did a photowalk in the Old City at night to see all the Ramadan doings (a photowalk is where a group gets together and wanders around and takes pictures of things). I had been told that if you want to see the “real” Ramadan in Egypt, that’s where to go.

It was noisy. It was crowded. It was on the warm side. And it was incredible.

And just to get a feel for how it was to be there…

There are, of course, many other aspects of Ramadan I didn’t address here, but this has been my experience — so far. If things get wild during Eid, there might even be a part 3!

Also, for the educators out there, my videos are Creative Commons licensed!

egypt

Ramadan in Egypt, Pt. 1

It’s been a while since I’ve posted widely; apologies for that. Other than a visit from spouse in which we traveled all over Egypt for two weeks, my life in Cairo has been somewhat routine, with me on a schedule of home –> research –> home –> Arabic class –> home.

In other words, living the dream.

However, I am spending my first Ramadan in Egypt and wanted to spend some time describing what it’s like.

The Basics

What is Ramadan? I’m so glad you asked!

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar (sometimes referred to as the hijri calendar, as it has the prophet Muhammad’s flight–hijra–from Mecca to Medina in 620 as its beginning point, and often abbreviated AH or simply H).

Hijri dates are not fixed in place; the Islamic calendar is a lunar calendar, ten days shorter than the Gregorian calendar (and without leap years), so over the course of a 36 year cycle Ramadan (and the rest of the Islamic holidays) occur ten days earlier every year and wind up back where they started.

This year (2023), Ramadan began in Egypt at sunset on March 22 and will end at sunset on April 20. Dates can shift depending on geographic location because the month begins and ends with the sighting of the new moon.

Ramadan is the holiest month in the Islamic calendar; according to Qur’an 2:185, the prophet Muhammad received the first verse of the Qur’an during Ramadan (known as Laylat al-Qadr, or the night of power, although there is disagreement between the various madhhabs and sects as to exactly which night of the month that is).

Most people are aware that Ramadan is observed by fasting during the daytime: no eating, no drinking (no, not even water), no smoking, no sexual activity. No bad thoughts is also supposed to be on this list, but I’m not sure how that works in combination with the other four (I get cranky without food and am mystified by people who “just forget to eat.”).

“But what if …”

So, since I’m envisioning this post as something of an educational resource, let me acknowledge some familiarity with the ability of students in middle school (and undergraduates) to come up with infinite hypothetical questions and scenarios with which to bombard teachers.

“What if you’re on a spaceship and the sun sets every 90 minutes…” for example (answer: Mission Control usually follows a set time–with NASA it’s Houston time–so you’d just follow that. There have been religious opinions (fatwas) issued to address living in areas where the sun doesn’t really set in the summer — if I recall the most recent one was that Muslims who live in, say, Norway can fast according to the schedule in Mecca, which is much closer to the equator.)

But, in my experience, the answer to the basic question at the heart of most of questions is this:

If fasting is going to harm you, you’re not supposed to do it. Fasting is supposed to be an act of faith, not an act of self-harm.

So, for example, people who don’t have to fast include:

  • children who are too young to fast
  • women who are pregnant or menstruating
  • the elderly
  • anyone with a medical condition that is incompatible with or would be made worse by fasting (diabetics, people who have medication that must be taken on a regular schedule with food, etc.)
  • someone who is literally starving to death
  • travelers are also on this list, although some people exploit this loophole; for a long time it was not uncommon for unscrupulous wealthy folk from other parts of the Middle East to rent out a hotel suite in Cairo for the month so they could claim they were “traveling.” This doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, although maybe most of them are going to Dubai or Beirut these days.

In Egypt, for example, most restaurants that are open during the day during Ramadan put up curtains or screens or something to allow people to eat with privacy (and to avoid rubbing it in the face of those who are fasting), but it’s not like you’re wandering around a desert with no hope of finding anything to eat. Supermarkets are open normal hours, and cafes may not be as full as usual but they still have customers. There are plenty of tourists, foreign residents, and, in addition to the above, 15% of Egypt’s population of 100+ million is Christian — mind you, the Copts have their own fasting regime for Lent…

It’s really no one’s business if you’re not fasting:

Enough with the food already!

However, all of this emphasis on fasting, especially in, say, American school textbooks, tends to give a pretty dour impression of what Ramadan is all about.

For example, this ad for the South African peri-peri chicken franchise Nando’s shows a young man eagerly waiting for sunset (it looks like it was filmed in Dubai).

The Nando’s advert was notable because, given the realization among companies in majority non-Muslim nations that Muslim families tend to have buying power, there’s been some well intentioned (as in, the stuff the road to Hell is paved with) efforts to try to be more inclusive in advertising, especially in the past few years.

The Nando’s ad is one of the better ones–I have definitely seen people sitting at tables waiting out the last few minutes before breaking the fast, although usually it’s done with soup and a date.

However, some of the American entries this year were a bit cringe, such as this ad (with commentary from the friend who posted it on Instagram):

Oh my. Where to start with this one?

  • That’s not the hand gesture Muslims make while praying … and normal prayer isn’t done at the table like that either.
  • It appears to be the middle of the day.
  • If it’s just mom, dad, and kid, she probably wouldn’t have her hijab on.
  • And what in the world is on top of their plates?

A for effort, D for delivery.

For the record, the reason for all the hype is that said companies have caught on to the fact that there are other parts of Ramadan. There is lots (and lots, and lots) of food. And, even more notably, Eid al Fitr, which comes at the end of the month, is one of the main gift-giving holidays on the Islamic calendar.

Today’s home page of Amazon Egypt, for example, looks like this:

When Ramadan began … and I do mean, at the exact minute Ramadan began … I got at least 15 texts and notifications from various shopping apps wishing me a blessed month and sending a promotional code. Including one of the beer and wine delivery services (which I realized much, much later was actually a subtle note saying they’d see us when the month was over).

So … what does Ramadan look like?

This post is getting a bit long, so I’ll stop with the basics. In the next installment, I’ll share what it’s been like in Cairo this month!

Read now!

academia

Going online

I’ve spent a lot of time staring at a blank page on this blog, wondering what was left to say. The job market is non-existent, the university where I adjuncted is downsizing due to lowered enrollment, and I’m facing the very real possibility of unemployment when my postdoc ends. I’ll admit that the idea of encouraging people to go through graduate school just kind of lost its lustre a bit.

That was depressing. Here’s a photo of a beach that I took this weekend in Holbox (an island about two hours away from Cancun).

Before I was allowed to check in at Cancun airport, I was questioned about my recent travel–specifically whether I had been to the People’s Republic of China or the Islamic Republic of Iran in the past 14 days.

South Korea and Italy, both of whom have higher numbers of cases of coronavirus (COVID-19) than Iran, were not on the list because, of course, the need for checks came out of the Oval Office, and we’re only concerned about countries we don’t like.

This brings me to the big topic of today’s post, which is that universities around the world are suddenly cancelling face-to-face classes and “going online,” and this is something that I know a little bit about.

There was, as you may be wondering, a tweetstorm about this earlier.

You’d think I’ve have learned my lesson the first time.

The problem with “just teaching online instead”

The problem with “just teaching online instead” is that you can’t take an in-person lecture course and teach it online. The entire dynamic of the course is shifted. Assignments and activities that work in person tend to work because you’re doing them in person — doing them remotely doesn’t have the same impact.

For two semesters, I was a TA for a large online class (in Texas, all undergraduate students, regardless of major, are required to take an American history course and Texas government).

Here’s the first thing to know about it: it worked, pretty well, in fact.

Here’s the second thing to know about it: there were at least 15 people helping with every class, over ten of whom were handling the technical aspect. (I don’t even know how many people were actually involved because they weren’t in the room with us).

The third thing is that our class only worked well because of the first two things combined.

Can you hear me now?

The first issue, as many, many people have recognized out there on the Twitter, is that the students need to have the requisite tech to go online from wherever they are in the first place. This means computers, access to internet with a high enough bandwidth. If students are going to need to speak to the professor they might need a webcam and/or microphone (and, in my experience, the earbuds-with-microphone that come with cellphones don’t tend to work well.)

Invariably, there will be students who have trouble getting their equipment to work–and, sometimes, this may happen in multiple class sessions. It is completely unreasonable to expect the professor to troubleshoot every student in their class who’s having problems, but will students know who to contact? Are there enough technical support people to deal with all the students who need help fast enough so that they don’t miss the class session?

There is also another issue which is…

How many fingers do you see?

Congratulations! You have a virtual classroom up and running. So, uh, now what?

Our class had four teaching assistants (one of whom was assigned to handle students who came to the studio in person, as the class wasn’t meant for remote attendance).

The first TA monitored the class chatroom. We had one of those so that the students could communicate with each other. The TA answered simple questions, and nudged the class back on topic if things got a little off. Again, if you’re the professor, this isn’t something you can do while lecturing.

The second TA monitored a feature called “Ask the Professor.” This could probably be replicated by e-mail (but, again, it’s a lot for someone handing the class on their own to do while also lecturing). It allowed students to directly pose a question to the prof; the TA would read the question out, and the professor would answer it on the livestream.

The third TA sent out “pings.” These were randomly timed questions meant to ensure that students were actually paying attention, and hadn’t just logged on and then wandered off so that their attendance would be recorded even though they weren’t really there. The questions were based on something that had just happened. “What did the professor say he did this weekend?” or “What did the professor just drop?” (Questions like “What color is the professor’s shirt?” are bad because of colorblindness.)

Transforming class time and assignments

Unfortunately, this one is the hardest.

Let’s look at the class I’m teaching this semester. I generally lecture for about 20-30 minutes, and then we turn to the topic of the article that we read for today’s class. Sometimes we have a large group discussion, sometimes I pose questions and have them talk to each other.

Large group discussions online are nearly impossible in a class the size of the one I’m teaching (30). If you turn on everyone’s mic, no one will be able to hear anyone else, and it’s a fair certainty that any discussion will be awkward chaos.

A number of platforms allow you to divide a large group up into smaller conversation groups and navigate between them, but depending on the size of the class, it may practically be very difficult to get to all of them before conversation starts to wander off.

Other issues arise if students are being discouraged from coming to campus (or, say, being told not to come back from spring break). If you have readings on reserve at the library, for example–sure, you can scan them … if you have the time, since your TA or RA will be one of the students impacted by the closure.

Similarly, my class involves a research assignment. Most of the grade comes from the research assignment–if my campus closes (and it is being discussed)–I’ll have to throw that out and come up with something else. My students won’t be able to do that kind of work at the public library (assuming those stay open).

At the same time, I designed this class to culminate in an independent research assignment, so this would mean a drastic restructuring of the second half of the course.

The research assignment makes up 40% of the student’s grade (or will, as the proposal is due this week and I’ll still count that.) Replacing it with a final essay based on the course readings that carries the same grade weight seems unfair, as does re-weighting assignments they’ve already turned in to make them worth a higher percentage. (I’m currently employing the technique I mastered as a very closeted teenager and not thinking about it until I need to.)

Other tactics

There are a number of other potential techniques that can be used online: asynchronous lecture (recording a lecture in advance for students to watch on their own time, and having shorter online meetings in which these are discussed), discussion boards, short writing assignments, etc., but–again–these need time to be planned out, and if you’re teaching multiple classes at a university that announces it’s going online today, it can be difficult to think them through all at once.

There’s some great ideas here:

None of this is to suggest that we shouldn’t be taking COVID-19 seriously. However, at the same time, universities that decide to shift their education online need to think beyond the mere question of what platform they’re going to use, but also provide guidance to faculty on how to teach effectively online.

Unfortunately, from what I can tell from colleagues and friends at various institutions, this doesn’t seem to be happening. A lot of instructors seem confused, anxious, and upset (heck, I’m all of those just thinking about it).

Hopefully the coming days will provide some clarity, both about how to better provide education online, as well as on how to deal with the outbreak more effectively so that we can safely resume normal life.

academia, dissertation, Grad School Survival Guide

Planning a Research Year: Part Two

Well! Yesterday’s post on Planning a Research Year got a little bit of traction, which also gave me a bit of material to work with for a second part right away.

More than one Tweep made a comment about something I wrote that I hadn’t even thought twice about when I wrote it:

She’s right, y’all. My bad.

First off, let me explain what in the world I was thinking when I wrote this:

I had one archive tell me point blank that they had nothing useful for me — disappointing, but far less disappointing that it would have been had I spend time and money going out there to get the same answer.

This happened, and I have no reason to suspect the archivists were lying to me. That said, the reason I feel comfortable saying this is that the archive in question belongs to an organization that was founded during my research period, and seemed, from its website and catalog, to only hold the international organizational files, whereas what I really wanted was reports from the Egyptian branch.

Knowing this to be the case, I reached out by e-mail to ask if they had anything from my target dates pertaining to the eastern Mediterranean region, and they responded that they did not. It was the answer I somewhat expected, confirmed.

That said, Ms. Hawkins is absolutely correct, especially when it comes to larger archives. The archivists at smaller, specialized institution know their collections pretty well. However, at the U.S. or British (or French or so on) national archival collections, where the material is so vast and covers so much time and space temporally, the likelihood is that, unless they have specialized archivists covering your specific interest/time/place, you’ll be dealing with people who want to be helpful but may not necessarily have the familiarity to assist you with your specific search.

After she tweeted me, I immediately thought of a conversation I’d had at the help desk at the British National Archives, wherein I pointed out that I had correspondence from one side of a conversation, and asked where I might find the other half. The very well-meaning archivist thought for a second and then asked if I’d considered trying the Egyptian National Archives in Cairo, since colonial correspondence that was kept in former colonies usually got transferred to the national archives after independence.

She’s probably right. At the same time, travel to Egypt for research was impossible at the time, which is why I was in London in the first place, and not in Cairo.

In short, if your gut feeling is telling you that there might be something there that’s useful to you, especially if you’re still at the point where articulation of your project involves a lot of handwaving and drawing diagrams on napkins (guilty!), by all means follow your instinct.

For example, as someone whose project morphed from the history of epidemics to the social history of disease, I’d often have to clarify that I wasn’t looking for medical reports, which is what most people assumed I wanted. You are, ultimately, the judge of what constitutes “useful” in the context of your own research.

Another excellent set of points from Dr. Zarrow.

The best advice is going to be from someone who has been there before.

Unfortunately, one of the best resources out there — the Archives Wiki that the American Historical Association used to run — has been taken down; a lot of it was out of date, but it did at least give a starting point on what to expect (helping a lot with number 2).

There was a short-lived project called World History Archives (I contributed several entries myself) but it seems to have been abandoned.

If you work on the Middle East or North Africa, Hazine is a good starting point.

The issue of <polite cough> “gifts” is one that you should be aware of. In smaller archives, in out of the way places, this is where having some recent local expertise is going to come in very handy.

I have heard, for example, stories about how flowers or the head curator’s favorite sweets from a particular bakery will start things off on a good note.

Remember that in a lot of places, the people who work at archives are going to be poorly paid public servants, and you’re asking them to do things for you. I don’t like using the word “bribe” here because it has such a negative connotation (if ‘gift giving’ becomes a daily practice, then we can call it bribery). Think of it as a token of your appreciation, expressed in advance.

I never got into the Egyptian National Archives to put any of that advice to practice, but in the days when I used to run study abroad programs in Egypt, my first visit on arrival in Cairo was usually to the supermarket near my hotel to pick up provisions–one of which was always a carton of Marlboro Red cigarettes. Each morning, I’d toss a few packs into my backpack and use them to earn the loyalty of our assigned tour guard, or help the door keeper at an out of the way museum suddenly remember where he left the key, and various and sundry things like that. (Cash can be so gauche to hand off in a crowd.)

Also…and this is key, especially for Americans who are seen as brash and rude…remember to start every conversation with a smile, a “Good morning. How are you?” before getting into what you need.

Every new person you talk to is a new person — a simple statement, really, but remember that even though you’ve told the same story sixteen times, you haven’t told it to this person. Patience is a virtue, often rewarded.

Next up

In another post, I will address another question that came up — how to reconcile all the funding applications with what you actually want to do during your research year. It’s not as complicated as you’re afraid it might be.