Induction by Deluge

I watched him white knuckle the steering wheel as we followed the signs for “South”, then for “Oxford”, and then eventually for “Southampton”. “IDJIT!” My father-in-law cursed in his Yorkshire twang and through gritted teeth as a black car zoomed past us in the right lane, a wave of water hitting the side of the van with an audible “smack” as it drenched the windshield. The wipers worked overtime as Absolute 80’s played quietly on the radio. Two phones sat on the dashboard, one for directions and the other for weather updates and flood warnings. Rain barrelled upon us and loudly, like popcorn in the microwave, as we continued our journey towards Southampton and the next big chapter of my life.

Storm Boris brought with it the end of summer, the start of a new academic year and about a month’s worth of rain in 24 hours. In the last week, Central Europe experienced devastating floods, infrastructure damage and loss of life. In the United Kingdom, homes and businesses were destroyed and travel disrupted, impacting thousands of commuters, many of whom were students and faculty trying to get to their respective school’s inductions.

The start of the Flood-CDT is nothing if not timely.

If the floods this past week have reminded me of anything, it’s how very necessary the research we’re about to undertake is and the very special position we find ourselves in. The goal of a PhD is to make a new discovery through original research or offer a new understanding on a subject. Here we have an opportunity to do just that, but also have the chance to witness the impact and meaningful changes our research has the potential of effecting. At least that’s the dream.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t an idealist, I’m also a bit of a romantic and maybe this is just first year optimism (check back in next year), but as I settle into Southampton and NOC I find myself awe inspired by the people I’ve met and the research being done. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the nerves and reality of what I’ve signed up for to hit me like a ton of bricks. I know it will, and when it does it will hurt, but for now, excuse me while I revel in the honeymoon stage of doctoral research.

What a privilege it is to be part of a community of researchers united by a common interest and a shared goal. What a privilege it is to live and breathe research I only fantasised about as an undergraduate student.

I am a puddle of gratitude.

Resilience is a word that often appears in climate change research spaces. It’s a theme I’m sure all of us will touch on through our work in one way or another whether it's the resilience of communities impacted by floods, the models we use or design in our research, the systems and infrastructure currently in place (or lack thereof) or the resilience within ourselves as we navigate the trials and tribulations of higher education. Imposter syndrome, stretched bank accounts, experimental mishaps, elusive supervisors, family life, dead ends in literature, writer's block, loneliness… The list of all the hard stuff is endless, but as I move through induction and meet other students, I feel the foundation of a resilient community in the making and one that will only grow as the Flood-CDT expands. I’m preparing for what feels like the academic storm of my life, but I know it’s weatherable. I feel my feet on solid ground, so all I have left to say is:

Bring it on.