Erin Shannon

ANYWAY this is all to say that yes, while I hope my research makes a difference, I’m not happy to sit around and wait for that to happen, so I’m glad I can give back something in the meantime.

This is why I’m thankful for my background training in Women’s and Gender Studies, a field constituted and informed mutually by research and praxis; I love a moral imperative to do the work I’m writing about.

This isn’t to say I’m not for an emancipatory research agenda (god, how depressing would my thesis be if I thought nothing could change), but to push those of us researching oppression into not becoming complacent w/ ourselves, & not thinking what we do in ivory towers is enough.

Do those abusing their power actually sit and read counter-hegemonic narratives produced by academics and think, “hmm, yes, I should change, this isn’t good?” Doubtful.

I’ve been reading a lot about critical discourse analysis recently and thinking about its ‘emancipatory agenda.’ As a scholar, sure, it feels good to pat myself on the back for revealing oppressive power structures, but what actually happens when we write truth to power?

Started my volunteer training with a local domestic and sexual violence support charity yesterday! It’s so healing to be DOING something to help instead of just writing about these issues.

If your policies/resources aren’t fit for purpose—they don’t address the specific issues your student population faces, but they look like what other unis have, so *must* be good (/irony)—then why bother drafting new policy or hiring new staff?

I think it’s a positive move for universities to hire staff for sexual violence response, but one of my ISVA participants pointed out that what unis do with those staff can often be performative: the need to look good in comparison to other unis, not make actual change.