I’m Back! Grappling with Epistemology and Thinking about Language in my Research

Last night while driving home and engaging in a family discussion on dreams, my children asked me: “Imma, in which language do you dream?” I answered immediately that I have no idea. I explained that I really can’t remember my dreams but that I do know that there are areas in which I think entirely in Hebrew (shopping, home life, pedagogy, literacy, school-life…) and areas in which I think exclusively in English (everything connected to research, methodology, theory, technical instructions…).

After 25 or so years living in Israel, my life takes place in two languages which are now fairly equal in terms of my competence. My PhD study is an interesting mix of the two, demonstrating that my hasty answer to my children, describing clear boundaries between the languages wasn’t exact.

In a discussion with Brenton Doecke at the beginning of my PhD journey, he urged me to emphasize the bilingual nature of my inquiry and not to leave language as a back drop in my research (as I did in my MEd thesis). At that time I did not fully understand this request and could only relate to having sections of text or even specific terms left in the Hebrew original alongside translation. Today I can see how language is a central element in my professional context, permeating all my actions and understandings. My language is heavily soaked with cultural significance.

Yesterday, in a Skype meeting with Graham Parr, my supervisor, we talked about the transcription and the translation of my interview tapes. We agreed that while translating sections of the conversations, I will have a wonderful opportunity to zoom in on the responses from my participants (and my own) and should be able to reach rich understandings of both content and context. We spoke about the importance of being sensitive to the place of my two languages in this study – how I translate my data, how I tell my own narratives of my practice and how important cultural or institutional concepts (whether they are translatable or not) are presented in my writing.

There are many cultural messages playing in my ears as I make decisions about which references to read and their status in the academic world. One of the questions I will need to explore is the place of Israeli researchers in my work.

This morning, I decided to try to clarify my thoughts on the epistemology of my research by rereading a book written in Hebrew:

Tuval-Mashiach, R., & Spector-Mersel, G. (Eds.). (2010). Narrative research: Theory, creation and interpretation. Jerusalem: Mofet and Magnes Press.

I decided to start with this reference as I have heard Gabriella Spector-Mersel explain the theories in many different forums and found them to be clear and accessible.  I must be honest in saying that although I have no trouble reading academic texts in Hebrew, I usually do it only when I have to. I read in Hebrew as a member of my doctoral writing group and read articles and book chapters as preparation for the sessions of the Qualitative research interest group meetings at the Mofet institute. Other than those occasions, I will usually choose English references. I am now becoming aware that this is not only because reading academic texts is still easier and quicker, it is also because of the cultural messages prominent in the academic world (and indeed in Israel as well), that Hebrew references are less important and influential than those written in English.

Embarking on the task, I was hoping that reading what I have heard Gabriella explain and translating the material slowly from Hebrew into English would help me understand more. I expected this exercise would give me ideas for entry points into writing about my own understandings of epistemology. As a result of this reading I found translation to be an interesting way of approaching a text. It slows down my reading and forces me to grapple with the dense carpet of terms involved. I cannot write a sentence until I reach some degree of understanding. Hearing things said (as familiar as they may be) in a different language, does indeed shed light on the ideas expressed. I remember I wrote about this here when I heard a lecture about the ideas of Dorothy Smith on Institutional Ethnography at Bar Ilan University and here after I first joined the interest groups on Action research and Narrative Inquiry at the Mofet Institute.  

Maybe I haven’t dealt much with epistemology but I have spent the morning thinking about language… and then again, much of what I have written is indeed connected to the nature of knowledge and its expression.

Non-standard research – A dedication

I have just come across an interesting book:

Kouritzin, S. G., Piquemal, N. A., & Norman, R. (Eds.). (2008). Qualitative research challenging the orthodoxies in standard academic discourse(s). New York: Routledge.

On opening the first pages I met a thoughtful and  inspiring dedication:

“This book is dedicated to all the graduate students and academics who, by choosing to engage in non-standard research, have chosen a path that might generate uncertainty, vulnerability, tension and ambiguity as much as it might generate positive personal, academic and social change”.

At this stage of my academic journey I can certainly relate to the “uncertainty, vulnerability, tension and ambiguity” as I struggle with those feelings daily. I can report that I have already experienced personal change but I will have to wait and see whether I am able to have any kind of real academic or social influence. I certainly hope so!

Another Look at Teacher Stories and Autobiography

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This morning I read an interesting book chapter by William Ayers (1992) on teacher stories and autobiography. I found some important points that I want to store and explore here on the blog.

“… Our stories are never neutral or value-free, because they are always embedded in space and time and people, they are necessarily infused with values, forever political, ideological, and social. Our stories occur in cultural contexts, and we not only tell our stories, but in a powerful way our stories tell us. Interrogating our stories, then – questioning and probing our collective and personal myths – is an important pathway into exploring the meaning of teaching” (p. 35).

One of my roles as a researcher working with narrative is therefore to read and reread the stories placed before me in order to gradually unearth the political, ideological and the social connotations embedded in the text. What is told and left untold can reveal for example, priorities, beliefs, understandings and aspirations. In addition, I must learn to discover these elements in my own narratives, not an easy task.

Another challenge lying ahead of me is to explore the cultural context in which the stories are created and told. In my Masters thesis I often took this cultural element for granted and did not focus enough on the unique professional and personal setting in which each story was framed. Similarly, I often forget to explain frameworks and customs which are unknown to a reader unfamiliar with the Israeli education system.  

“Teaching is not a single story: the attempt to pursue the perfect study of teaching that will once and for all sum it up is a fool’s errand… teaching is more than the action of the teacher, because it is essentially interactive and c0-constructed, it is always expanding, always changing, and must always include students’ stories. Perhaps rather than trying to sup up teaching neatly, our goal should be to expand the natural history of what teaching is. Making our collective story richer, broader and more complex may also allow greater intentionality, reflexivity, and thoughtfulness in teaching choices” (p. 44).

This is a powerful reminder of the importance of studies of teaching and learning which portray these processes as a colorful kaleidoscope, ever moving and changing, not necessarily symmetrical or neat. Exploring the meaning in teaching means examining the unique, the complex, the dynamic and the messy.  Looking closely at the intricate details of teachers’ lives in different settings and stages allows us to grasp a better understanding of teaching. I am hoping that my research will add to this ever growing mosaic.

“Teachers have a special responsibility for self-awareness, for clarity and integrity, because teachers are in such a powerful position to witness, influence, and shepherd the choices of others” (p. 47).

This special responsibility is one that should be talked about explicitly in teacher communities. In the past, when encouraging teachers to tell teaching stories and write reflective texts, I did not make use of this important perspective. I will give thought to including this is future professional learning courses. 

“People are always in process, growing, understanding, changing, developing, disintegrating, reincarnating, choosing and refusing. There is a sense of incompleteness, of striving, of moving into the future. Autobiography is a useful piece in this movement, for autobiography creates the possibility for a dialogue grounded in different realities. telling lives and hearing lives can enrich our history and make possible our future. It is perhaps, particularly important in discussing something as complex, holistic, and immediate as teaching, something for which we lack an adequate, embracing language. Lacking language, many people are willing to reduce teaching to isolated behaviors, to fractions, to numbers. Autobiography is an antidote. It is unabashedly personal, connected, alive, struggling, and unfinished. It is the foundation upon which we can build what we will”  (p. 48-49).

I like the way Ayers connects “lacking language” and the reduction and teaching and learning to clean-cut statistical information.

I am constantly becoming more aware of this concept of “incompleteness” or “unfinalizability” as Bakhtin put it. The stories I told a year ago are different from those I am telling today and those I tell when my thesis draws to a close will be different again. My research project, like my teaching and my learning, is dynamic and ever changing.  I am curious to see where my professional experience and learning will lead me.

P.S.  I have chosen to ignore the politics in the life story of William / Bill Ayers and to concentrate on the ideas encompassed in one book chapter he wrote. Thanks to Yankel who invited me to rethink this issue.  William Ayers is not a person I identify with or wish to be identified with.

Reference:

Ayers, W. (1992). Teachers’ stories: Autobiography and inquiry. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), Teacher personal theorizing: Connecting curriculum, practice, theory and research (pp. 35-39). Albany: State University of New York Press.

Opening Pandora’s Box: An Autoethnographic Study of Teaching / Wilson

 After completing the first draft of my canditure panel report, I decided to devote this morning to reading. I began with an interesting new article  I found online this morning.  The article by Kristin Wilson has a unique structure in that it uses “Pandora’s Box” as a means of presenting and analysing her relationships with students in her professional life. The mythological text  is presented alongside stories of dialogue with students and the texts they produce and critical self- examination of the ways the lecturer creates and maintains those professional relationships.

There are some interesting thoughts about the grading of student work in the paper. How do we relate to the person behind the student work? How do we separate (or unite) the paper before us from the way the student functions in the course? How much time and effort can we put into the reading and assessment of each text when we are overloaded and short on time? Rubrics vs personal comments directed at the writer and his or her creation? How does the reality of workload and other restraints affect the way we believe assessment should be approached? 

I particularly liked the way the author concludes the article. After looking long and hard in the mirror, Wilson concludes:

I am willing to assert that I teach well when I live my pedagogy in a relationship with my students in the language of the discipline. Next semester, I will ask my students for relationships, not boxed role playing. I will not say, “Follow the guidelines in the syllabus.” I will see myself as one teacher, not the teacher. I will work like Boulle and not ask why. I will acknowledge all the birds flying around in the room, visable, supervisable, and invisable. Next semester, I will go to lunch with the student who stuck a card in my office window saying, “I miss you. Let’s do lunch. Sandy.” (p. 5).

 

 I can see the connections between this article and that of Julian Kitchen’s relational teaching theory.

 

This autoethnographic article about Wilson’s own teaching experience, indeed invites me to examine my own teaching practice. How aware am I of those birds flying around the classroom? How prepared am I to ask for relationships instead of role playing? How possible is it in a 30 hour course?

I think this is the real strength of autoethnography – powerful personal writing of the local, the specific, allows the reader to examine other contexts and to explore the general, the universal.

Wilson, K. B. (2011). Opening Pandora’s Box: An Autoethnographic Study of Teaching Qualitative Inquiry

Thoughts on session 2

I have just finished my second session in A. As expected, the numbers grew, some teachers brought their friends. The number today was 21 and we will be 22. As the teachers can’t miss more than one session and still have the course recognized, this will be the final number.

I felt quite a bit of bubbly expectation in the room before we began and two teachers commented how much they had gained from the first session. One teacher told the principal that she wants an opportunity to pass on what she is learning to her peers.

Another teacher proudly exclaimed: “I brought my friend!” Her neighbor added: “Yes, she got me out of bed to come here and join the course today!”.

Today I had the teachers do two short writing exercises. Firstly I demonstrated the “looping” strategy and they wrote about problems encountered when teaching writing. The second exercise asked them to write a piece about themselves as writers. Several teachers shared their pieces, many are still very shy.

Maybe I should have done that in small groups? Worth considering.

 The response to the writing was terrific – quiet, calm, private time followed by sharing in a friendly atmosphere. It is clear that some of the teachers don’t feel comfortable in the group yet and I found myself remembering the wonderful sharing last year at H. Many of the teachers worked there together and there was much laughing and empathy in the room. I should devote time to thinking about the in school / out of school implications for these courses.

I am far happier with the theory / practice balance this year (and last year). The course in KS was either too theoretical or I didn’t make the connections clear enough.

I arrive at the Pisga centre dead tired, coming straight from school,  but somehow I always find the energy to lecture and run the seminar.

Today when I told them about the virtual campus there was only one teacher under pressure. She explained that she had no problem with the task assigned but wasn’t computer competent. After hearing my explanations personally she calmed down. I asked her if someone at home can help her and whether or not typing is a problem. She’ll be fine. She told her friends that her worries are calmed.

Maybe it is paying off that in every course recognized by the Ministry of Education there is a virtual element? Maybe the teachers are getting used to it? Maybe I’m clearer too?

I am genuinely looking forward to reading their teaching stories, to meeting them in their own professional environments.  I am of course wary of the workload involved in reading and responding again to large numbers of teachers.

Many of the teachers participating this year have come because they heard recommendations from other leaders of professional learning or from colleagues who studied with me last year. Could this have something to do with the high level of cooperation, right from the beginning. This year I don’t feel like I have to convince them that they are in the right place  or that I’m not going to waste their time. Must look into this too.

 

Relational Teacher Education: A new and inspiring concept for me

I recently read an interesting article by Dr Julian Kitchen, Associate Professor in teacher education at the Brock University in Canada.  As I read I found many links between Kitchen’s work with preservice teachers and the work I am trying to do with practicing teachers.

 Kitchen quotes Dewey: “…education is development from within” (Dewey, 1938, p. 17). This resounds with thoughts about learning versus development. Development is seen as something that comes from the outside, that someone “does it” to the teachers whereas learning is something internal, it is the union of stimuli from outside with the personal knowledge, experience, intelligence and beliefs of the teacher. This learning is of course something gradual which develops slowly, at an individual pace. This is far from the “boom” of “being developed” at a seminar or short course.

 

According to Kitchen “Relational teacher education is a reciprocal approach to enabling teacher growth that is respectful of the personal practical knowledge of preservice teachers and builds from the realization that we know in relationship to others. Relational teacher education is sensitive to the role that each participant plays as teacher and learner in the relationship, the milieus in which each lives and works; it stresses the need to present one’s authentic self in relationships which are open, nonjudgmental and trusting” (Kitchen, 2005, p. 196).

 

When I read this article, many of the things he wrote seemed to suit my view of my teaching and gave them a name. I had never heard of “Relational Teacher Education” before and hadn’t even thought about giving a name to my style of teaching. After completing my MEd thesis, I did make a conscious decision to respect the knowledge and experience the teachers bring with them and I even talk about this explicitly throughout the course. Many of the comments I receive from teachers at the end of my courses relate to these points.

 I also strongly believe in the social aspects of learning. In the past my courses have been built on sharing classroom experiences and I will definitely build on that this year. I will dare to give more time for sharing.

I am interested to explore the way that each individual (including myself) is both a teacher and a learner in the course.

 

Kitchen identifies seven important characteristics of relational teacher education:

“1. Understanding one’s own personal practical knowledge

2. Improving one’s practice in teacher education

3. Understanding the landscape of teacher education

4. Respecting and empathizing with preservice teachers

5. Conveying respect and empathy

6. Helping preservice teachers face problems

7. Receptivity to growing in relationship”

(Kitchen,2005, p. 196).

Some thoughts on these issues:

1. I must be committed to examining my own knowledge and experience. One of my advantages is that I really teach children and can try out the things I am talking about. I must remember to find more time to reflect on my own teaching both at school and in the course.

2. I am interested and committed to improving my teacher education. It took me years to feel comfortable with the title “teacher educator” but that indeed is what I am. I think I am improving over the years and this year, through my intensive written reflections, I should improve even more. What I should do is find a significant friend to read those reflections and discuss them.

 

3. I am trying to understand the landscape of teacher education – and my thesis is part of it. I don’t like dealing with politics but I have discovered that teacher education is a highly political issue. Maybe all teaching is? I have been leaving the policy documents to the end in my literature review and I think I should dive into them.

 

Kitchen writes: “I began to discover that we as teachers often have been told that our stories are inauthentic and that experts have the answers. I became aware that we have been forced to obey “objective” studies, even though they often run contrary to our classroom experiences. I awakened to the realization that we must discover our own voices because, as Roland Barth (1990) observes, “When teachers stop growing, so do their students” (Kitchen, 2005, p. 199).

 

My aim is to add to the growing body of teacher stories, stories which may at some stage be publishable. Teachers must know that they can learn from writing and rewriting their teacher stories and reading and responding to those of their peers.

 

Kitchen (2005) explains that “Relational teacher development and education recognizes the roles each participant plays as teacher and learner in the relationship and is sensitive to the milieus in which each lives and works (p. 200). I have often stated in my reflections that I am acting as teacher and learner in my sessions. I learn from each teacher I lead. Through my thinking about their work I reflect on my own and alter my own classroom practice and workshops.

This article contains a letter Kitchen wrote to his preservice students before meeting them in one of his courses. He writes: “This letter both invited preservice teachers to reflect on their tacit knowledge (Polanyi, 1958) and expressed my personal professional commitment to developing meaningful and respectful personal professional relationships with each of them. By sharing my experiences, I illustrated my engagement in reflective practice. By listening authentically to their stories, I modeled respect for teachers as curriculum makers. By providing them with reflective tools, I assisted my preservice teachers as they explored their personal practical knowledge (Connelly & Clandinin, 1988)” (Kitchen, 2005, p.200).

 

I would love to be able to write this kind of letter to my participants and for them to write a reply to me as their first task. This letter exchange could open up the communication between us and leave me with a far clearer sense of the teachers sitting in front of me than the dry questionnaires I have today. I wonder though if they take me as sincere before they get to know me? Israelis are so cynical. It certainly would take a lot of the talking out of the first stages of the course. I think I should give it a go – using Kitchen’s letter as a guide.

 

Kitchen writes “By responding personally and rigorously to their reflections on past and present experiences, I attempted to assist them in reconstructing their cognitive structures and their approaches to teaching. By engaging them in cooperative learning and team-building activities, I helped to foster a sense of community among those in the class” (p. 200-201).

 

What do I try to achieve in my own responses to teachers? I make connections between practice and theory, give names to the things the teachers are talking about, and aim to elicit extra or deeper understandings.

 

Cooperative learning is also a relevant issue – I am continually searching for ways to deepen this collaborative experience in just 30 hours.

Kitchen explains that relational teacher education is based on respect. This respect is many things – starting on time (maybe with something that they won’t want to miss?), not wasting teachers’ time , making the most of their time. This need for respect is obvious in many ways but not always easy. When a teacher arrives without a pen and notebook, when she sits knitting throughout the whole session, when I have to fight to get a word in…

 

“My constructive criticism of student work is not an uncritical stance. Typically, in responding to personal portfolios, I mirror back my understanding: I note patterns that extend across their metaphor and look for five critical incidents and five personal narratives, I respond to their interpretations, and I share related stories from my experience. Each of these interactions serves as an opportunity for dialogue and professional growth for both preservice teachers and the instructor. Although this is a time-consuming process, the students respect the results. When they nominated me  for Professor of the Year in 2001, they spoke of my “rigorous expectations,” “constructive criticism,” and “in-depth personal analysis of both content and  structure.” At the same time, I deepen my understanding of teaching and learning by hearing what my students have to say” (Kitchen, 2005, p. 202).

 Kitchen isn’t boasting here, he is explaining what works in his courses and according to the feedback from my courses, this is similar to some of the remarks I have received. I too learn from reading and responding to my teacher-students.

 After getting excited about these inspiring concepts, I return to earth and ask myself: Is any of this possible in a 30 hour course?

 

Reference:

Kitchen, J. (2005). Conveying respect and empathy: Becoming a relational teacher educator. Studying Teacher Education, 1(2), 194-207.

Feedback!

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Yesterday afternoon I presented a narrative I wrote over the recent holidays to the group of doctoral students I joined. First I must say that because of the meeting I was forced to sit down and write and the result was a 2500 word narrative about the teacher stories written by the teachers participating in my courses. I chose to write the narrative in a similar style to those I wrote for my MEd thesis and my article in English in Australia.

One of the things that interested me was the fact that I chose to write this narrative in Hebrew and not in English. I have been pondering over the reasons for this and have come up with three:

  1. I wanted to receive significant feedback from the group and thought it would be easier to achieve this if the text was in the members’ mother tongue
  2. The context of the narrative and the teacher-texts contained in it are Hebrew based
  3. I am thinking about my work more in Hebrew.

In my thesis examiners’ report, BD suggested I look into the bilingual aspect of my work more closely. He suggested I do far more than simply translating sections directly from one language to the other. I’m still not sure what this means…

I was surprised to receive compliments on the writing of the narrative, all three members commented on the readability and interest in the text. When I sent them the file, I was aware that I was feeling OK about sharing my writing and that I am definitely more confident about my writing skills than I was two years ago.

Most of our meeting was around the difficult “So what?” questions and the “What is this text?” “Do you consider this a research text?” “How does this fit in?” questions. I still find it very difficult to answer these questions and it was very important for me to sit and try and answer them intelligently and clearly. Many points arose and I have a lot of thinking to do to try to make things clearer.

I will write more about this soon, maybe then I will have some orderly thoughts (see image…). 

 

RF image: http://www.images.com/

Disappointment…

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When I returned from the conference in Be’er Sheva, I sat down and wrote two long emails to presenters who do similar work to mine. I approached them both after they gave their papers and both suggested I make contact. Unfortunately, neither of them even replied to me. Shame…

Maybe there is more to this?

In the past there have been at least two others, people who I know are doing interesting work in the field of narrative here in Israel and they didn’t respond either. Should I be taking this personally?

 

image: http://www.everystockphoto.com/photo.php?imageId=3622

Assignments in…

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My computer is now full of assignments sent in by the teachers who participated in the course at Z.

Formally, I have to read the assignments, fill in the rubric I created and gave along with the task, and assign a final grade to each teacher. I also will need to write a few sentences to each participant before I send the work back by email. In addition, I need to choose three assignments, one at a very high level, one of medium quality and one at a low level and submit them to the Department of Education.

I am curious to read these reflective texts and to compare and contrast them with the feedback these teachers wrote on the last day of the course.

Last year, after I read the assignments, I went back and chose sections that I wanted to use in my paper at the AATE/ALEA conference in Hobart. These quotes were an important part of my presentation. On the other hand, I didn’t know how to use those reflective texts in my research.

As I don’t yet have ethics authorization (that’s another story…) these materials will have to remain in the background, as the backdrop for my own narratives about these courses. I see these texts as a means of looking at the professional learning achieved by the teachers from different angles.

What I need to do now, I think, is to revisit each assignment, after I have graded it etc, and highlight different themes which arise. I imagine it will be easier if I keep some kind of table with the name of the teacher and page number relating to a particular theme – comparison with other PD frameworks, experience writing narrative, change in classroom practice etc. Then I will be able to revisit relevant texts and also see which themes are more prominent. I am sure that the next batch of papers, from the group at A, will be very different, even though they received the same task.

In addition, I should be trying to identify participants who may be willing to be interviewed in the future.

By the end of April, I will have around 100 of these assignments. It is a shame that I can’t relate to them as data in the normal sense but these teachers did not sign an ethics agreement at the beginning of the course. I am limited to using them in my own reflection and study.

An extra task will be recording comments and my own reflections on improving the course. Just as I made several changes this year, I am sure I will receive ideas for new modifications from reading these papers. If I leave this reflection to next September it will be a far more difficult process and will be less effective.

I am going to save trees and ink and work on screen with this. I’m not sure I will manage but it is certainly worth a try.

 

RF image: http://www.images.com/

Coffee Shop Thoughts

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Yesterday on the way to Z I had time to stop at a coffee shop for a break. I knew I would have time to do some work so I brought a book on teaching writing and my notebook for free writing. When my sandwich and coffee arrived I had to decide what I would do. I decided to free write on a topic worrying me at the moment and as a result made a decision which turned out to be an important one.

I wrote:

“I have been thinking a lot about cutting the course down from 60 hours to 30 hours. I can see myself making a lot of mistakes. At the moment it is irrelevant that I don’t agree with the cut in hours or that I am frustrated that I had no say in the matter. What is relevant now is how I choose to use those 30 hours available to me and I how I make them significant enough for the teachers to come back for more.

I must be wary of trying to pack too much into too little time. What I can see happening is me racing through the “material” and not letting the teachers talk, collaborate on and process what is being learned. Slow down should be my message to myself. Giving the teachers time to discuss what they have been doing in the classroom since the last session is not a waste of time – it is reflection, it is socially processing the new knowledge.

If each teacher presents her peers with a short oral narrative on something she is doing in her classroom or reflects aloud on questions she is dealing with, these must be seen as real learning activities.

I believe that in this way, the teacher participants will be more active in their learning, they will be taking responsibility for putting new knowledge into practice. They will possibly be made more aware of their learning.

last year at K there were a few teachers who complained that the course was too theoretical. They weren’t actively involved and didn’t understand that the activities and strategies presented could and should be explored in the classroom. If I had given 10 minutes at the beginning of each session for discussion in small groups, they would have heard what their peers were experiencing.”

 

When I finished my free writing (and my snack), I made a decision to change the timetable for the session.  I really had planned too much. After the session I was convinced that I had made the right decision. The discussions and the writing exercises really were essential.

This decision will mean that that there will be topics I don’t touch this year but tht is realistic when I remember that I only have 30 hours…

 

 Image: http://www.everystockphoto.com/photo.php?imageId=240700