The latest participant in the Emerging Historians Q&A series is Dr Gwyn McClelland, whose doctorate was conferred by Monash University. He is currently an Associate, teaching at Monash and in 2018 at RMIT Universities in Asian and trans-regional History, Education (Bilingualism) and Japanese language.
How did you come to be a historian?
A few years after I had completed a short thesis in theology for my Master of Divinity, I remember meeting my supervisor-to-be for a coffee next to the library at Melbourne University and discussing my ideas for a PhD project, which I had developed to take my previous research further. I had not really thought hard about which part of the Arts Faculty it would be in, but my supervisor was very encouraging of my proposal. I vaguely thought I would be in Japanese studies. Only when I was accepted into my program did I realise my work would be (had to be) in History! I realised how appropriate this was and quickly began to enjoy the opportunity to enormously widen my understanding of historical methodologies and approaches in research. I am thankful for Monash University researcher Beatrice Trefalt’s encouragement of me to pursue the path of an historian.
Tell us about your PhD research
I utilised an oral history methodology which involved interviewing 12 survivors of the atomic bombing of Nagasaki, including 9 who are Catholic. I interviewed around 10 other community members as well, to gain a broader insight into the modern community. I remember one interviewee invited me to his haircut – so I sat behind him, while he talked, and the hairdresser listened in too, to his discussion of his memory of the atomic bomb! Then we caught a taxi to his retirement home. Elements such as this part of the research process didn’t make it into my thesis, but it was moments like this I will never forget! I also appreciated the opportunity to meet like-minded researchers in Japan, including one who had in 2015 published a book about the Catholic narrative of the bombing, from the written record, rather than the oral.
I employed a theological framework that engaged with the testimonies shared with me, ‘dangerous memory’, as conceptualised by German post-war Catholic theologian Johann Baptist Metz. Various aspects of the interviewees’ memories of trauma at the time and after the atomic bombing suggest their memories are ‘dangerous’ for the status quo, in the US, in Japan, for the Catholic official Church and so on.
Why does it matter?
The Catholic narratives of the bombing were sidelined, or silenced for a number of reasons. Around 70% of the Catholic community around Ground Zero were killed by the atomic bomb, so one reason for silence has been the fracturing of this community. Another was the silence of the official church in Nagasaki. A third is the situation of double and triple marginalisation in which the survivors found themselves after the war (eg. ‘Worshippers of an enemy god’, irradiated and socio-economic prejudices). The research contributes to histories of marginalisation and shows the complex but significant results of atomic warfare, even for those who experience them as children. I contribute to a better understanding of the narrative of the atomic bombing of Nagasaki, and how the Catholic community who were to be found around Ground Zero experienced this bombing. As well, over the past seventy years, a plethora of research about the atomic bombing of Hiroshima has been produced, while Nagasaki has been relatively neglected.
What are you researching now or intending to do next?
I am presently writing a book out of the thesis, to be published by Routledge later this year in Mark Selden’s ‘Asia’s Transformations’ Series. The book will be titled Dangerous Memory in Nagasaki: Prayers and Protests within Catholic Survivor Narratives. Con-currently I am continuing my search for a position as a post-doc, researcher and/or teacher.
What do you love about being a historian?
It may be clichéd but I love the experience of discovery – my time at the National Library in 2015, where I was supported by a ‘Japan Grant’ was essential to my PhD thesis, allowing me the time to read in Japanese and to discover some of the nineteenth century narratives of the community I was researching. For an oral historian, finding supporting documents, including secondary sources and images is a great way to back up what you find in an interview. Oh, I have to mention another thing I really enjoy – in oral history it is a lot of fun to meet people and to talk with them.
What’s the one aspect you find most challenging about being an ECR?
The financial stresses for my family and I, which mean at the moment I am not sure about future holidays and keep putting off home projects. It is very difficult not knowing what will keep us going over the next university holidays, nor knowing with certainty how many contracts I might be able to land in the following semester.
If you could go back to any historical period, where would you go and why?
I would like to go back to pre-1780s Australia, to see this continent as it was, especially the Birrarung (Yarra) river and the Woiwurrung region (now Melbourne). I think it would have been an amazing and beautiful area at the time.
The Australian Historical Association is currently conducting a survey on casualisation in the History discipline, and its effects. The survey, which will be open until 31 March 2019, is open to members and non-members. We hope to get a wide range of responses and experiences.
Please note that in the survey, “casual position” is understood broadly, so to encompass all employment that is not ongoing/permanent/tenured. This encompasses fixed-term, full-time, and hourly employment, and all other forms of precarious labour.
The survey is available HERE. Please feel free to distribute the link to other casuals working in Australian tertiary institutions. The more feedback, the better!
Your responses are, of course, anonymous. We anticipate that the survey will take 5 to 30 minutes depending on the level of feedback you wish to provide.
A report based on the survey results is anticipated to be delivered to the AHA executive committee in December 2019 for release in the new year.
Don’t forget that abstracts for the Australian Historical Association annual conference are due tomorrow, Tuesday 12 March. The conference is in Toowoomba, hosted by the University of Southern Queensland, and it runs 8–12 July 2019. All information, including how to submit an abstract, can be found on the conference website.
If the prospect of presenting a paper fills you with dread, have a look at our recent blog entry by Lyndon Megarrity with tips on presenting at conferences. Hopefully it will be the encouragement you need to join us in Toowoomba. I promise we’re a friendly and supportive bunch!
If you are unsure whether to submit to a specific stream and your paper has an economic slant, remember that the Economic History Society of Australia and New Zealand offers a prize for the best paper by a postgrad or ECR that is presented in the conference’s economic history stream. The paper must be submitted before the conference, but you’ve got until 17 June to do that. The important thing right now is marking your abstract submission as relevant to the economic history stream.
Other prizes and bursaries are available; see the website. ECRs should note the Jill Roe Conference Scholarship Scheme, applications for which are due today, 11 March. Good luck to those of you finalising your applications!
It’s Friday, 21 December 2018, and here at the University of Wollongong the corridors are very quiet indeed. I have not seen anyone all day down my end of Building 19, a notorious rabbit warren where usually at least a few lost souls are wandering around hoping to find a printer, a kitchenette, a classroom, or maybe just a way out. Office doors are closed and locked (I assume; I haven’t been randomly testing doorhandles). The classroom opposite my office is, for once, quiet. The only person to make tea today in the kitchenette nearest me is, well, me—this entry is brought to you by my fourth pot for the day of T2’s Morning Red blend.
So, clearly, people have already skedaddled for Christmas. But what does summer and the holiday season mean for ECRs, especially historians in Australia? I put out a call for comments on Twitter a couple of days ago and solicited a few more from colleagues not on that platform. I have not been able to name everyone personally, but all the responses on Twitter can be read through the preceding link.
Overwhelmingly, it appears that summer is writing season. If even half the ambitions expressed come to pass, there ought to be a bumper crop next year of journal articles from our emerging historians. Jillian Beard notes that her first summer post-thesis is a busy one, with two journal articles and a fellowship application on the go. For some, the writing projects are even larger, extending to book manuscripts. Ben Wilkie, our most recent Q&A participant, is one of them. Ana Stevenson, another Q&A veteran, also has a book on the go, but she highlights one of the challenges for historians with appointments in the Global South: the holiday season gives her the opportunity to read books inaccessible in South Africa.
Working (no exclamation mark)
We all have our rent and bills to pay—indeed, for those without the security of an ongoing contract, this is probably the overriding concern. Will there be tutoring work next semester? Will funding applications be approved? The stress and anxiety of wondering where the money comes from is acute for many at this time. So it is unsurprising that some respondents are only taking a few days off before returning to teaching summer courses, or have lined up contracts to perform research assistance (RA) over the holidays. Poor Mahsheed Ansari mentions that there is still marking to do! Chelsea Barnett, whose Q&A went live in September, has RA and admin work because, as she puts it, there is “No rest for the wicked… or for ECR academics, apparently.” Speaking personally, before I began my (fixed-term) appointment here at Wollongong, I spent my summers at the University of Melbourne performing as much RA as possible. Let me tell you, being in the old Arts West, now replaced by an inferior modern showpiece, on New Year’s Eve was even more surreal than being in UOW Building 19 right now (somebody just walked past my office! What is happening!).
Summer, hopefully, is not all work. Many respondents have carved out at least some time to rest—”rest, rest, and rest”, as Kim Kemmis says. Anne Rees is spot on about the need to resist “academia’s busyness culture” because “good scholarship requires a fresh mind”. But Anne also highlights that the ability to take leave and refresh the mind is a privilege of employment that not all ECRs possess. For people with appointments such as mine or Anne’s, we can take leave if we want, knowing that we will still have income over summer. For casuals, this season is often a poor one: every day taken to recharge the batteries is a day’s pay foregone. It speaks poorly of the modern university that the demands for greater productivity are not coupled with the means for a large portion of the academic workforce to have the rest necessary to produce quality scholarship.
But enough critiquing the modern university; we will all keep doing that in 2019, no doubt. It appears that those of you who are taking time off—by whatever means you have managed to secure it—are really looking forward to some solid reading. More than one respondent remarked on the opportunity to read fiction as a startling novelty. Ben Wilkie quips that he will be “reading a fiction book for once”. Effie Karageorgos, another past Q&A contributor, is keen to sit down with some Agatha Christie. I have been waiting to read Claire Coleman’s novel Terra Nullius since October: I took it on a flight but spent the whole trip writing, and have not had another opportunity to pick it up until this week. I have just reached the twist, and I can say that this book is a treat.
I am not travelling for the first Christmas in years—I’ve talked some of my family into visiting me. But many of you are off to see family. Others have foreign holidays lined up. Hannah Loney, a historian in Melbourne who is not on Twitter, wrote to me to describe two glorious weeks in Indonesia: time to read, to swim in the ocean, and to enjoy good food and drink. And now she feels refreshed, able to take on journal article submissions, book proposals, and teaching preparation. She notes that although it’s not great to lack paid leave, one perk of casual appointments is being able to just book the tickets and go. Certainly when I was at Melbourne Uni I did similar, making trips to New Zealand during quiet periods of employment without needing permission from anyone. Having paid leave is a delight, something I scarcely believe I am entitled to after years of casual contracts, but the associated paperwork is not a thrill.
It would be remiss of me if I wrote this entry without dishing out some congratulations. You might recall the recent call for applications for the Australian Historical Association–Copyright Agency ECR Mentorship scheme. All the applications received were of high quality, attesting to considerable talent, insight, and ambition. The panel of judges were delighted to award the six mentorships to Jillian Beard, Margaret Cook, Nicholas Ferns, James Keating, Mia Martin Hobbs, and Ryan Strickler. Some of them gave comments in reply to the summer activities tweet—it sounds like they will soon be getting stuck into the articles funded under the mentorship. I, for one, am really looking forward to what they produce. With any luck I might be able to shine a spotlight on it during 2019 with this blog.
Speaking of this blog, if you are interested in participating, please get in touch. I want to hear from you whether you would like to do a Q&A (either the series for ECRs or that for established scholars), write a how-to guide, describe a book or other object that changed your life, or propose a new feature. A number of people have suggested that a series on Academics With Children would be welcome, so I am keen to hear from scholars at any stage of their career, with children of any age, who would like to discuss experiences and issues facing parents in the tertiary sector. I am also interested if any reasonably well established scholar would like to write a “how to survive your first academic conference” guide for our newest historians.
Contact me, André Brett, at firstname.lastname@example.org if you’re keen.
It might be the holiday season, but email now if you wish; you won’t get an out-of-office reply. I will only be taking off the public holidays because I actually like working through summer. Heat is unbearable, the sun is not my friend, and I did not become a historian to spend time outside. You will find me tapping away on grant applications, book manuscripts, and book reviews—but, as a sop to the season, I might be doing it from my desk at home with the pleasant hum of cricket on TV in the background. I like my office in Building 19, rabbit warren though it may be, but installing a television might be excessive.
All the best for the holiday season. Go crack open a beverage of your choice (a beer for me), grab a good book (because it seems that’s what all of you want to do), and settle down somewhere comfortable (even if it’s outside). See you in 2019!