The Graduate Research College (GRC) is home to researchers from a wide range of academic and professional backgrounds, many of whom arrive at doctoral study by non-traditional routes. In this article, one such researcher reflects on the decision to begin a PhD later in life, balancing full-time employment, family commitments, and the demands of part-time doctoral study. Through a candid and engaging personal narrative, the piece explores research as a source of intellectual renewal, creative escape, and sustained motivation—reminding us that passion for one’s subject is often the most powerful driver of research success.
Bachelor’s. Master’s. Doctorate. That’s the pattern, and that’s how most people do it. My own nephew, fifteen years my junior, is currently in the final year of his own PhD at the University of East Anglia, and that was very much his journey. So what was it that made me, aged 39 when I began, decide that my life of teaching secondary school English, playing tabletop wargames and looking after my two young kids, was too easy? What was it that made me decide that actually, as well as doing those things, I should also complete a PhD, let alone via research-by-practice, a burgeoning discipline here at the University of Kent, but one that offers exciting opportunities?
If you asked my wife, she’d tell you it was out of boredom – I’ve been teaching nearly 20 years, and I like to think I’ve gotten quite good at it, so perhaps it doesn’t offer the challenges it once did.
And she’s right.
If you asked my boss, a genuine inspiration to me, a man who holds a doctorate of his own in English Literature, he’d say I don’t feel intellectually stimulated enough, and that I’m enough of an oddball but also an intellectual that a doctorate was the logical next step for me.
He’s also right.
And if you asked me? I’d tell you I have always felt like a doctorate was something I’d do eventually, once I found what I wanted to write about. And, sat on a long drive in 2024, alone in the car and listening to a podcast, I was hit with the germ of an idea. One I felt was unique, interesting and, above all, researchable. From that moment I was obsessed. I read voraciously, hunting down rare tomes, buying a Kindle Scribe (that’s the Amazon version, other scribable e-readers are available, but highly recommended) and covering notebook after notebook in my barely legible scrawl.
Finding a supervisor was a challenge; my research is niche. Some would call it ‘frivolous’, as if that’s a bad thing. And yet, I love it. It holds enough interest for me to focus on it in all of my spare time for several years. And that, dear reader, is the secret: if you love your research, yes it’ll be hard work, but it’ll never feel like a job.
To me, now pushing 41, a part-time student with a family and a full-time job who is very rarely on campus and feels as distant from ‘student life’ as it’s possible to be, my research has become an escape from the ‘real world’ of mortgages and parents’ evenings. It’s the most exciting part of my life, about which I am happy to speak at length to anyone whom will listen – and indeed to many who won’t, as the passengers on today’s 11.28 to St. Pancras will acknowledge – and that is what keeps me going when I’ve got a heavy week at work and could really do without adding another 500 words to a thesis that is filled with imposter-syndrome and self-doubt.
So, why am I doing it? Why should anyone do it? Because research is its own reward. Because it’s usually the thing I think about when I’m struggling to sleep, and the thing that inspires me with an idea upon waking up. And if your research isn’t doing that for you at the moment – you’re burnt out, exhausted, or stuck in a rut – then you need to go back to basics, what was it that got you excited about this in the first place? I’ve spoken to researchers on the rare occasions I’ve been on campus, and every time their research sounded fantastic, and so much more important than mine, and it was fantastic to see their eyes light up to explain what they were researching and the journey that brought them to it.
So maybe, if you’re struggling to find your mojo, you just need to find someone to explain your research to. You’ll soon find it.
For me, research is an escape. Make it be whatever you need it to be, and it’ll never feel like work.
Have a good one!
P.S. Please do feel free to share your research with me – I love hearing from people who are passionate about their… well, their passions.
For Joe’s details please visit: Joe Payne – Graduate and Researcher College – University of Kent