Big River, Jimmy Nail.

This song became the anthem of the Women of the Waterfront. I have listened to it on repeat all day and, whilst it’s not about the Mersey, it may as well be! It’s a good job historians went all postmodern as I am very emotionally invested in my project. Don’t worry, I know I need to acknowledge my subjectivity and I will do so in my dissertation. However, right now it is 8:30pm on a rainy July evening and I want to revel in it. The lyrics are great, the song is great, the Women of the Waterfront were (still are) great. Continue reading

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A Poem of Solidarity

I have officially entered dissertation mode. (Reminder: my research is focused upon producing an emotional history of the lockout on Liverpool’s docks 1995-1998.) I am scrolling through ‘The Dockers Archive’ – an amazing example of why historians should pay more attention to preserving websites- to try to create a timeline of events before I delve into interviews. Continue reading

Oral History Workshop

I recently attended an oral history workshop at the University of Liverpool. I have read all the theory and practice books available and, to be honest, I thought my attendance was largely to tick a box on the numerous applications I have had to make in order to carry out my own interviews in my research. This was not the case.

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History and Microhistory

Ever since reading Andrew Popp’s ‘The Broken Cotton Speculator’ I have been keen to use the approach of microhistory and I recently got my chance.[1] I took the moment Robbie Fowler lifted his Liverpool top to reveal a t-shirt with a message of support for 500 sacked dock workers in a European Cup Winners Cup match on the 20th March 1997 as my focal point. I wanted to move this between multiple contexts to demonstrate that the moment had a number of meanings to different groups in society. Although I understood what went into the top and its meanings, structuring this essay was extremely difficult.

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“Dr. Kearney or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Impostor Syndrome”

I read this blog post back in February and still like to reread it now when I haven’t picked up a book for a while, when I write words in an essay that don’t seem to make sense or generally just feel a little blue.

Everyone should learn to be a little more impressed with themselves.

womenareboring

by Eve Kearney

belle

I was at a family gathering recently, when as I was stuffing my face with free, home cooked food, an aunt approached me and said the words that all research students dread: “How’s being back at school going?” Apart from making it sound like I’m back wearing a uniform and taking my Junior Cert again, that question makes me stifle a sigh of despair.  I only started my PhD in English in September, and am still struggling to define what my actual research project will be on, so condensing it to a party-friendly sound bite is definitely not on my radar at the moment, nor is answering the follow up question that always comes: “And what are you going to do with that?”  In short, Aunt Jen, I don’t know how my research is going, and I sure don’t know what I’m going to do in four…

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