Three steps forward, two steps back

A slightly sweary update on mature student life

I’m currently in a three steps forward, two steps back phase of life. Which is progress considering that a few weeks ago it felt more two forwards, three back.

My capstone project - the final piece in a three year MSc journey that can best be described as steep learning curve meets rollercoaster ride - is due to be submitted in early May, and my brain feels scrambled by all the information processing and decision making. Since Christmas, I’ve whittled over 300 research papers down to a shortlist of 12. This week I’ve been wading through a humongous (because: science) guide to learning how to assess studies for risk of bias, while pondering over the pros and cons of different quality assessment tools. It’s frustrating and bewildering work. But also, enlightening.

Photo by NASA on Unsplash

If I could teleport back in time five years and tell past me I’d be doing this, not by compulsion but by choice, then I’m pretty sure that I’d tell myself to piss off. At that time I was just beginning to explore coaching and my science background included high school physics, plus winging it as the editor of an extremely niche B2B publication. The kind that you might find on Have I got News For You, along with Modern Ferret and Potato Storage International.

The thing that’s been keeping me going is reconnecting with my why. Remembering that I signed up for a coaching psychology masters because I wanted to learn more about how we complex, messy humans can thrive in community, in spite of all the shitty curveballs life throws our way. And also, that I wanted to build on the evidence base of my practice. Which is a grand way of saying that I want to help the wonderful, creative - and often neurodivergent, like me - folks that I work with to bring their bold and brilliant ideas to life, while cultivating self-worth along the way.

I also have an audacious secret dream. One that drove me to do this big scary thing in order to deeply understand scientific research. Because while it’s easy to cherry pick catchy soundbites from studies, there’s a responsibility that comes with science communication. We saw this demonstrated time and time again during the lockdown days of Covid. And we see it still, with folks battling to assert their expertise on social media. To “win” the comments.

I constantly find myself Googling to discover what “Dr X” is actually a doctor of. And it often bears little relation to the subject they are speaking on. In this age of information overload, critical thinking has never felt more important.

(I was hoping to insert a photo of the bullshit button here, but alas found the stock library lacking)

As the adage goes - the more you know, the more you realise you don’t know. And in an unregulated profession such as coaching, combined with a relatively new science like positive psychology, it’s reassuring to hear research practitioners with the upmost experience and expertise admit that they are still not sure about so many things.

That’s why continuing to expand the evidence base feels like important work. As does adding new perspectives to an overwhelmingly deficit-based body of research on neurodivergence, while seeking to move away from the dehumanising language of the past. As my course leader reminded me last week, research feels so hard because we are always breaking new ground.

On Sunday, at the end of another eight hour shift of paper sifting, when my spirits were low, I finally unearthed a study on the positive aspects of ADHD. A glimmer of hope in a sea of medical-model thinking.

Change is slow. But it is happening. And small steps, regularly taken over time, lead to great distances travelled.

Lovely people, I have a (still pretty scary) systematic review to write. Which means I am of course hoping you will distract me by sparking a conversation in the comments. I’d love to know what you’re taking small steps towards right now. And what your ratio of forwards to backwards feels like today.