Long-handled combs

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Have you ever read a description of something and wondered, “Is that really how they worked?” Curiosity really intrigued me when I began researching the so-called ‘weaving’ combs for my thesis project. They have been a consistent feature in the British Iron Age textile tool assemblage. When I first embarked on my PhD project, I was mainly focused on loomweights and spindle whorls because, as a maker, I was fairly confident that these tools were part of the textile production sequence. But these combs seemed a bit of out place with warp-weighted loom technology. Though I had my doubts regarding their utility, I placed them out of mind until I had made headway on my overall research project. I focused on building up my database of textile tools and gauging how much data I would need to adequately work on the project. I also worked on experiments to begin satisfying my need to understand the physicality of the tools. After the conclusion of my first year researching, I felt it was time to take a look at the combs.

A long-handled comb from Danebury hillfort, UK. This comb has been burned.

Year 2 could be characterized as the year I spent trying to figure out the purpose of these tools by considering the history of their research. Conducting a ‘literature review’ (ie, you read what others have said about some topic and you write about it in an abbreviated essay/chapter) is a fairly recent requirement for research projects these days but I had never felt the true value of such an endeavor until I started reading what others had said about long-handled combs. After seeing the combs in person and examining them under a microscope, I was hooked. I had to learn more and I had to determine a sensible way to examine their functional attributes, beyond their decoration.

Year 3 could be understood as the year of advancing boundaries and seriously critiquing what we know about all the textile tools (loomweights, spindle whorls, long-handled combs, and needles). After a second viewing of these textile tools, I wrote four extensive chapters on the textile tools and still I was unsure what to do about these combs. In a twist, I was able to see them again for a third time. It’s amazing what an extensive literature review and the gestation of thoughts can do for a scholar trying to figure out how to figure something out. I’d like to consider myself an archaeological engineer in a sense because I am presented with something which has an unknown purpose and I’ve been asked to uncover its function. Using applied methods, engineers can take a prototype and create a working version; experimental archaeology affords archaeology a similar option.

Of course, experimentation is always problematic in archaeology because we deal with many unknowns, including how societies interpreted this technology and how they utilized it. Academic research is very slow, but I am beginning to realize that it needs to be slow. Just like how my craft knowledge took several years to develop, my sense of understanding archaeological problems takes time. If you look at my conference and publishing record, I have committed the majority of my research time to long-handled combs and explaining the issues surrounding their interpretation. Keeping my discussion of these combs in balance to the other textile tools I study has sometimes been very hard because I am adamant about not privileging one tool type over the others.

Studying the archaeological record and seeking out the voices, gestures, and intentions captured within each object fuels my need to research. I will keep an open mind as I go.

PhD Life: It isn't glamorous...

...nor is it anything like I had expected. The thought of being Indiana Jones was one reason why I pursued my education seriously. I realized by 8th grade that to be a doctor, you needed to be smart, smarter than everyone else. So, I pushed myself to do the next level higher, taking the high-track classes rather than the average level classes. Each year, I pushed myself to the next level, never caring that I wasn't truly prepared for it. By the time I was a senior, I had taken 4 years of science (advanced biology and chemistry in the same year), 3 years of English, math, history, French, and never once gave myself a study hall. I used an academic waiver to remove the need to take P.E. (Physical Education) and spent all of my evening and weekend time studying until I went to bed. It was rare for me to have completely finished my homework each night. Sometimes I would do it before school started in the morning, or during lunch (when I would spend 30 minutes in the lab). Or sometimes, in the class just before the homework was due.

During this time, I was also a figure skater (had been since I was 2 years old), a member of a couple of clubs, a regular volunteer at the Illinois State Museum Research and Collections Center, and I worked 20 hours a week. I also had boyfriends, friends, and carried on crafting and painting and reading.

My senior year was a turning point. I had just turned 17. I began taking psychology at the local community college on Saturday mornings, for three hours. I front loaded my first semester so I could graduate early. In January 2001, I was officially a college student. I had to juggle a full 15 hour school schedule, high school final exams, a 30 hour a week job, and a boyfriend. In keeping with my goal to become smart, I took three advanced placement classes. By graduation day, June 2002, I went from being 'average' smart, to contending with the top 20% of my class inside of four years.

To say that I was wound like a tight coil would be a severe understatement. I lost a whopping 65 pounds between my sophomore and junior years. Because I had languished under my own whip to become smarter, I didn't always do well. Smart kids (those top 20% and above) ridiculed me when I would receive a failing grade on a homework, quiz, or a test. One particular episode still haunts me today. A teacher publicly congratulated me for improving my vocabulary test from a D to a B by the end of the first semester. I was humiliated at having my grades described to everyone and it did nothing to relieve the ridicule I received on a daily basis from my fellow classmates (though it was usually just a few bullies). I also hated it when some bullies started caring more about me as a person because I 'became hot' by losing weight.

You could say that I had had enough by the start of my senior year. I didn't want to be around people who didn't respect me and what I had accomplished by myself. I didn't have well-educated parents (though they were loving and supportive and made sure I knew about 'the real world'), access to tutors, siblings, or friends who could tutor me for free. I did everything through sheer force of will. And it didn't stop there.

Whenever there has been something 'hard' to do in my life, I will do it. Not for the martyrdom, to make people pity me because my efforts result in few gains. I do it for the passion. Because I am interested. I want to learn more.

I finished my bachelor's degree with a 3.76/4.0 (department GPA) and a 3.48/4.0 (overall GPA) at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in 2006. My senior year at UIUC was thoroughly loaded with anthropology courses, and with that, about 500-1000 pages of required reading each week. I binge-watched anime on weekends just to have a brain-break. I also took up Kuk Sool Won and achieved first degree black belt the summer after I graduated University (2007).

And then I began pursuing higher education. In 2010, I received an MSc in Museum Studies with Merit from the University of Leicester, after having suffered the financial crisis in 2008/9, switching jobs, and working full time while living just above the poverty line. I began Expertly Dyed as soon as my dissertation was in the mail. I was halfway started when I received confirmation that I passed my degree.

After an educational hiatus, where I worked as a teacher in Korea, an independent fiber consultant, and continued on my Expertly Dyed pursuits (starting my YouTube channel in 2012), I felt that it was time to return to academia and pick up my dream where I left it five years previously.

You're probably wondering why I wanted you to know my educational history from the time I was 13 years old. Some habits die hard.

I completed my MA in Archaeology from the University of Leicester with Distinction in 2016. I presented at two conferences. I also traveled to a new corner of Britain every other weekend. I was a dancer, reenactor, department groupie, and I exercised nearly every day. I went out drinking with friends on weekends. I ate cheese and crackers for dinner on some of my busiest nights. Wednesday pub nights with the department were my one opportunity to eat a proper meal each week. I lost weight. I did nothing crafty: no spinning, knitting, weaving, dyeing...nothing. And yet I studied textile production in Iron Age Britain.

My PhD experience has been the exacerbation of all my previous experiences with education and work/life balance. I work myself to death, I don't spend enough time on me, and some days I'm frankly shocked that I haven't collapsed with exhaustion.

I concocted an entirely unrealistic future for myself when I was 13 and I continued to fall back on those outdated principles until quite recently. I thought I had to become the expert and to know everything. I grappled with impostor syndrome (like many PhD students today). I couldn't handle being told my writing was sloppy or unfocused. I nearly fainted when I was told that 'I needed to be more serious about my research' and that I 'needed to do more'. I was utterly broken. How could someone like me possibly have time to do more and be more serious? I had already received high praise in the form of a Distinction and feedback at conferences. I am 35. I have been serious about my education for 22 years. I have gone far beyond just 'doing more'. What was missing?

My biggest personal issue with my pursuit of a PhD is that I'm not Indiana Jones. Being a doctor isn't about being the smartest, per se, it's more about understanding who you are and what you need. But here's my big moment of self-reflection about my PhD:

I do what I do because I want to do it.

I am halfway through writing my PhD thesis. I have presented at 12 conferences since January 2017, with 3-4 more planned for the remainder of 2019. I have conducted 2 major experiments for my PhD research (which is not an experimental PhD), with 2 more scheduled for September. I have met with senior academics in Iron Age studies and textile studies. I've done these things because I wanted to do them. I want to present high quality research and hold myself accountable because I have deeply critiqued my own work and the work of my predecessors. I want to develop textile archaeology to be the mainstream topic of study it deserves. I can't do this alone, nor am I alone. I am there, in a community, of similarly minded people who do what they do because they want to do it. 

This brings me to my final point about work/life balance. If I was told to do 6 conferences a year by my supervisors, and I had to do it, I would probably stress out. I would cry. I'd be anxious and work 15 hour days and on weekends. If anything were to set me off, I would probably have a complete breakdown with collateral damage. My work would be my life. I'd have no way of disengaging. I would probably binge drink (which I nearly started to do at the start of 2019). And worse, it would feel inescapable.

Something I didn't know about myself is that I am incredibly self-motivated by difficult tasks and I think the reason why I have managed to accomplish so much was because I knew my limits. I enjoy being busy and productive. I like being able to do 10 different activities in a day. I like keeping a schedule. I like being a part of things. When I do feel stressed out, anxious, depressed, exhausted, lethargic, etc., it's because I'm not keeping a good work/life balance that is suitable for ME. 

Sneak peek at the new series I'm launching on YouTube!

It is important to be introspective, and the demanding work of a PhD project can often prevent you from reflecting on yourself, your motivations, your needs. I need to be writing up my chapter on needles right now, but my need to share these thoughts has superseded my need to write my chapter. I won't fret about my chapter writing because I have a plan. It is scheduled to be worked on today. I want to write this chapter on needles. I submitted an abstract for a conference this morning and I worked on a journal article submission. Later, I will finish my weaving experiment today and get ready to pack up for the European Archaeological Association conference. I want to do these things. I am happy, stressed, excited, and a bit anxious. My life as a PhD student is the opposite of glamorous--certainly, no one will be writing 'Love You' on their eyelids any time soon. It's an exercise in coordinating 10 spinning plates with just my two hands. But I know that if it all becomes too much, or I need help reassessing my work/life balance, there are people out there who want to raise awareness for mental health issues among PhD students.