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Academic acknowledgments, crescendoing in the aughts
& my favourite organisms
Paul Foth
September 02, 2024
A Paul Foth Variety Newsletter
In this issue
Phenomenal prolegomena
When NASA’s manned Christian Rock mission to Saturn’s moon, Titan, nearly ended in tragedy
Beetle business
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Adventures in academic acknowledgments
(I am indebted to Dr. Bruce Guenther, Erika McAuley, John Barry and Dr. Kevin Foth for many grammatical insights, without whom this column would be much inferior).
When I was coming to the end of my thesis-writing saga, my advisor had a warning for me: most typos occur in the acknowledgements and footnotes. It was true; the final edition crept through with the word “progeny” where I meant “provenance” in a footnote referencing an explanation in an earlier footnote. Truly heartbreaking.
And I felt that my phrasing thanking those who helped along the way was clumsy. I included several “Thank you to" statements, which could have been better rendered “I would like to thank,” or the more active “I thank.” Fortunately, few people read a master’s thesis, and fewer still the acknowledgements.
But some do. I found this piece by Tabitha Carvan, who regularly peruses science PhD dissertation acknowledgements, treating them as a genre of their own. Carvan notes that scholars often struggle with these often last-minute, emotional additions to a years-long technical project, “Like, they’re trying to tell you the most important thing they’ve ever said - at the very moment the ship is pulling away from the dock.”
Inspired by Carvan and my own reflections, I read through the acknowledgements from Master’s theses from Trinity Western University’s digital archive. Because it is a smaller school with only a few graduate programs, most theses fall under nursing, linguistics, biblical studies, education, counseling psychology, theology, and interdisciplinary humanities (philosophy, history and English). I chose TWU because I went there and know a few faculty members and one-time grad students, hints of familiarity in passages that otherwise read like something between bland corporate announcements and deeply personal diary entries. If some passages seem embarrassingly candid, these theses are, well, published. Hopefully these scholars will not mind their work being cited, no matter how it is done.
On to the acknowledgments!
I found that some scholars settled for a minimal approach, thanking their advisor and readers, their study participants (when applicable), and spouse or family. My friend Brendan did a succinctly adequate job:
I would like to thank the keen interest, guidance, and expertise of my supervisor Dr. Allyson Jule, for whose vigilance for my thesis and role during my undergrad exposing me to feminist studies I owe a lot to. I also am extremely grateful towards my second reader, Dr. Kwee, and my mixed method’s statistical expert Dr. Launeanu. Most importantly I thank my wife, Leah-Rose, for without her I am sure my research would not have manifest the way it did. I appreciate her unwavering support and patience for me during this research.
In some cases, the minimum is even less. This acknowledgements section is quoted in full.
I want to offer my thanks to Tamara Vaags who collected the data set used for this project. I hope that this study offers additional value to the time spent collecting these remarkable stories.
The main message of an acknowledgement is that the author and her research do not stand alone, but are made possible by the unseen work of many. My friend Erika clearly put care into her acknowledgement section.
Tackling a thesis seems a lonely, stoic work. But perception deceives, for it cannot exist as a sole venture. It is a flurry of activities, wherein ideas are interjected, fortified, combated, and taken away by others. Each and every word is affixed, directly or indirectly, to another mind and another influence. And so, I have many to thank.
I have been waiting to write this acknowledgments section for a long time, so that I might declare my gratitude toward a number of people in a public manner.
The most effusive passages are often dedicated to spouses, parents or children. These family acknowledgements are usually reserved for last. Researchers sometimes rehearse the emotional toll of years of study, and always thank long-suffering family for their support, encouragement and patience.
Finally, I would like to thank my family members–Dad, Mom, Michael and Sarah… Indeed, all of my achievements are ours.
I want to thank my spouse Meilani, who put in way more time and patience than she had any right to, our cat Kitte, who diligently reminded me when it was time to eat, rest, and play, and our void Demetria, who mostly hid under the bed and sulked because Kitte didn’t want to participate in any mischief.
My favourite passages nod to the family’s acquaintance with the subject matter.
To my children, Lucy, Marco, Miriam and Elsie, for sharing your mommy with Theodore of Mopsuestia.
My family has also been extremely patient and supportive. My children Hannah, Max, and Sarah know more about sexuality research than most of their peers, and probably more than many of my nursing peers….
My Dad has surprised me during this process. He went to Guelph with me when I attended a weeklong Intensive Sex Therapy Training program.
(Aside: WHAT is a palliative approach to sexual communication? Abstinence? Divorce? The silent treatment? Is someone dying?)
Sometimes the authors use the opportunity to tell about serious, life-changing events, as in one encyclopedic account (a tiny part of a pages-long verbose list of names and events).
On December 14, 2011, I nearly died in a vehicular crash, an on-the-job accident that blinded me in my left eye, fractured every bone in my face, fractured several vertebrae, and left my body bleeding and jerking in spasms at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle. I underwent about a half-dozen major surgeries, was in a drug-induced coma for about three weeks, and spent nearly two months recovering at the hospital… One of the human vessels that God used to spare my life was my darling wife. She held my bloody hand the first night of the accident, prayed and interceded for me, and encouraged me in the long journey of hospitalization and recovery. Throughout this ordeal and trek through the valley of the shadow of death, Leeza has been a wellspring of love, comfort, and encouragement.
I read through many lists of first names, unknown people with whom the authors share some kind of connection, whose support is briefly acknowledged. Sometimes the authors expand their outpouring of thanks into something akin to a wedding party toast.
Kristin and Vanessa, I can say without a doubt that I would not have made it through this process without the two of you. The emojis, Bitmojis, texts, emails, tears, laughs, even chicken noodle soup and ginger ale were lifesavers through the darkest times and a source of joy in times of victory and celebration.
Awww.
No thesis is possible without advisors, readers, and other professors, academics and students. My favourite acknowledgements provide details of other academics’ inspiring qualities, ideas, or tidbits of information.
Primarily I would like to thank my supervisor, Myron Penner, for his guidance in this thesis and throughout the entirety of my MA. He demanded nothing less than my best while offering continuous support in the process. His precision and clarity of thought gave direction to this thesis. He spent many hours meeting with me for philosophical conversations and guiding my thought and research. Additionally, he has a love of truth that is inspiring and to be witness to this, I am especially grateful.
I would also like to thank my second reader, Dr. Lara Ragpot, for your calm direction and reassurance.
Joshua Randhawa first alerted me to John Wimber’s connection with Saint Francis.
Yes, that one was from me. To my delight, I found that I was also acknowledged alongside others by my friend Tiffany.
My sincere appreciation goes to my colleagues and dialogue partners, Paul Foth, Erika McAuley, Nick Poetker, and Fernando Miranda, whose constructive feedback on my initial ideas greatly contributed to the development of my thesis.
Thanks, Tiffany! I acknowledged you too.
Some projects came about because of a personal connection of the author with the subject, growing out of an encounter, life experience, or even tragedy that inspired the subject.
Growing up in an environment where disability was not seen as a limitation shaped my perspective significantly. For that, I thank my brother Kent, whose joy, resilience, and kindness have profoundly influenced my life.
To those who grieved with me, Charlene, Elliot, Dad, Mom, my brothers, in-laws, nieces and nephews, thank you for supporting me in the best ways you knew how, with the resources you had, and in your own unique ways. Your roles were not glamorous. At times, our relationships were messy and confusing, and at other times beautiful and divine. Know that I cherish what you gave.
I was about nine or ten years old when I heard for the first time that our planet was destined to be devastated by a terrible monster in the not-too-distant future. This creature, with seven heads and ten horns, was about to emerge from the sea where it had been concealed till the last days. Its activities would be so devastating that whole cites, countries and islands would be annihilated. No one would be spared––except those who had given their lives to Jesus and were under his special protection. All of this was predicted in the Book of Revelation. This report came from a boy of about fourteen or fifteen, who had pieced together the disparate pieces of information he remembered from Bible studies his parents regularly held on their veranda.
An attempt at a biblically accurate depiction of the biblical beast with 7 heads and 10 horns, by the hand of one of my college friends (Merissa? Jacqui? Chris? Ashleigh? A group effort? Good job, whoever it was)
Many social science projects involve interview and consultation with study subjects and public communities. Sometimes these relationships can be quite strong, as with counseling clients or, in the case of linguistics, entire language communities.
Thank you to each and every one of my Mosiye friends. You welcomed me into your homes and hearts, your faces were always before me as I wrote each page, and your language has both challenged and inspired me. I hope to someday soon hand this thesis to you personally. Your language is beautiful. It was a privilege to write about it.
And why not municipalities while we are at it?
I would like to acknowledge the community of Chilliwack.
Trinity being a Christian college, scholars in some programs, particularly in theology and linguistics (which is often preparation for missionary work), acknowledged God, occasionally riffing on Christian lingo.
My greatest thanks go to my heavenly Father. I have learned over and over: “Unless the Lord writes the paper, the student labours in vain” (Psalm 127:1, Revised Vanderveen Version).
Sometimes scholars thank research committees for ethics approval, funding agencies for scholarships, university support staff, babysitters, and others outside the family-friend-academic nexus who helped along the way. I remember making a point to thank the TWU custodial staff, of which I had been a member.
In consideration of the variety of books read in preparation for this thesis, I must acknowledge the help and flexibility of both Trinity Western’s and CANIL’s library staff, who so kindly assisted me in obtaining many interlibrary loans. Likewise, the guidance with formatting that I received from CANIL’s technicians, most notably Norbert Rennert, was timely and immensely appreciated.
I would also like to thank Diane Beaton in the Office of Graduate Studies at Trinity Western University for organizing the defense and preparing notices and programs.
To the stranger who donated his monitor to me: Thank you for your kindness. You cannot imagine what this generous act meant to me and how much it helped with my thesis writing process.
Finally, I found a couple of scholars who addressed me as a reader, grateful for attention to their work in an obscure corner of the academic digital shelves.
To everyone who helped me through this... well whatever this is called when you spend some of the prime of your life writing a large work of non-fiction which will be read by, let’s face it, only two other people, both of whom are probably your own relations: I thank you.
First, to whoever may read this document, thank you for making the effort to traverse its many pages. May you find insight into your interactions with first-time fathers.
You’re welcome!
So, perhaps now I should read past page viii to the technical goodies that lie beyond the tables of contents, lists of abbreviations, and unpierced veils of acknowledgements.
Once again, thank you to all of you for your help and support. Game on and don’t forget to feed your people!
Music mix of the issue vol. 2: Y2K Crescendos
An ode to the slow build
There was a time when the best track of most of my favourite bands was sombre emotional meditation building to a triumphant, heartbreaking, or thrilling wall of sound. It was my unspoken conviction that the height of artistic expression was to take 5 or 6 minutes to get very loud. Post-rock bands like Explosions in the Sky, Sigur Ros, and Godspeed You Black Emperor turned this formula into 5-25-minute symphonic masterpieces.
I was briefly the bassist in a band that played a few shows around Langley, BC. For my bandmates, this quiet-to-loud formula was the only way to make music. As we prepared some songs for what would be our final show (that Teen Daze played too), I tried in vain to coax the teenage guitarist/songwriter and former metalcore drummer into ending one song with a smooth, mellow, jazzy finish. We rehearsed it repeatedly before the show. But when it came time to play live they just couldn’t help but madly crescendo.
Finance, 2010
And we were right to do it in almost every song. It’s a simple recipe for success. Start quiet, get loud is the indie rock version of buy low, sell high.
Since I, like almost everyone, think that the best music is what I was listening to between ages 15 and 21, I have made the executive decision that 2000s indie rock, emo and post-rock was the apotheosis of the crescendo, that beautiful PAC-MAN mouth of musical notation. Of course musicians were doing this in the 1990s, and the 1890s, but were they doing it like Sigur Ros and Low? (Well, yes, Sigur Ros and Low were doing this in the 1990s, but their louds got a little louder in the 2000s). Something about the gradual buildup makes these some of the most emotionally compelling songs I have heard.
So, I present to you this issue’s music mix: Y2K Crescendos. It includes songs that get really big, volume-wise, with 8th-note guitar and drum parts performing serious emotional labour. It has Sigur Ros, of course, plus Wilco, The Appleseed Cast, Hey Rosetta!, Thursday, Sufjan Stevens, and a few cheat tracks from the 1990s and 2010s that fit the mold (I’m looking at you, Jeremy Enigk and Glen Hansard). I threw in some twangy college rock and newfangled prog rock too. Not every song is a pure crescendo, and may even include diminuendos, rests, and nientes, but they all follow that basic trajectory toward higher volume.
One gaping hole is what might be my favourite crescendoing Christian Rock song, recorded by a space rock side project of a Christian ska band. It’s a song I could best summarize as the plot of Apollo 13 meets the Prodigal Son at a Pentecostal space-themed summer camp altar call. I am talking about “Daylight” by Brave Saint Saturn, which is not available on the streaming services. Do yourself a favour and check out the song that made me cry multiple times as a 17-year old. And might still. It’s a real tear-jerker.
Updating my Myspace iNaturalist top 8
I am a frequent, perhaps inordinate, user of iNaturalist, a nature photo database for tracking and identifying organisms of all kinds. The app and website have been invaluable for learning about lichens. It has also helped me with other budding nature interests, including bumble bees, trees and shrubs, little prickly pear cacti, and butterflies.
One great iNaturalist feature is the ability to create a pictorial list of “favourite taxa”—think Myspace top 8, but for fungi and arthropods. Currently, mine includes some classic lichens and songbirds, a bright bumble bee, a common but beautiful sea snail, and that tiny moth I frequently find inside my house.
If you’re not in my top 8, you’re not my real friend/favourite band
The main downside of iNaturalist is that I take a lot of pictures, so uploading and identifying the species is time-consuming. That hasn’t stopped me from uploading my 5000th species entry: an intriguingly-patterned moth. I soon saw that my wife Sunny had posted her own superior picture of the very same individual to iNaturalist minutes before. She was an early adopter.
In celebration of that huge round number, here are my top 8 iNaturalist sightings from this year (not to be confused with the aforementioned taxa). I’m sticking to non-avian sightings.
Boreal Bluet, 8/5/24. One day I decided to take pictures of many of the tiny damselflies at a nearby marsh to tackle the challenge of identification. This photo has a clear shot of the dorsal markings and cerci (the weird structures on the butt) that are essential for differentiating this Boreal Bluet from similar species.
Sugared Sunburst Lichen, 5/14/24. Orange lichens are very common on some rocks, and are often the wonderfully-named Elegant Sunburst. But I spent some time searching before I found its cousin species, the Sugared Sunburst, named for the numerous “sugary” soralia structures.
Pacific Banana Slug, 8/11/24. If there’s no place like home, there is nothing like a gathering of Banana slugs observed while walking with my brother, Kevin, in our hometown. Gross, but in a sentimental way.
5. Punctured Bushy Lichen, 5/26/24. Ramalina may be one of my favourite genera of lichens, with an impressive range of variation. This Punctured Bushy Lichen was plentiful in the wetter habitats at Mahood Lake to the west of 100 Mile House. This lichen packs a little punch.
Orsodacne atra, 5/14/24. While the Saskatoon bushes were in bloom, these two tiny beetles were going at it in a blossom. Then a larger ant suddenly climbed over a petal and attacked. Both Orodacne got away, one by running down the stock, another by dropping to the ground (one of the photos shows the imminent attack).
Checkered Periwinkle, 8/12/24. This coastal sea snail (a top 8 on the other list!) comes in a wonderful variety of shell patterns. This is another one found near my childhood home in Washington.
Brown-eyed Wolf Lichen, 4/11/24. The first time I went somewhere to find a specific lichen (thanks to information from iNaturalist), I searched for a long time among the trees at the top of the cliff at Chasm Provincial Park until I spotted the brown apothecia disc, the “eye” in this Brown-eyed Wolf.
Blue-footed Pixie Lichen, 3/17/24. Being on the lookout for lichens puts me in a very select group of weird lichen fans. After I photographed this cladonia species along a lake, it was identified by an Alaskan lichenologist on iNaturalist. It turns out to be a very rarely reported species. This is one of just a handful of records, with the only others in Alaska, Quebec, and Norway.
And birder friends, with all this iNat-ing (and, you know, other things in life), I’m not submitting my eBird lists very promptly. There are some Stilt Sandpipers continuing in Walker Valley. You’ll get the rare bird alert in a few days. Actually, I think everyone in the South Cariboo who might be interested gets this newsletter, so consider this your Cariboo rare bird alert for September 2, 2024. (NICHE BIRD JOKE WARNING!)
Stilt Sandpiper (Calidris himantopus) (5)
- Reported Aug 27 by Paul Foth
- 108 Mile Ranch--Walker Valley, Cariboo, British Columbia
- Media: the photos didn’t turn out
- Comments: Continuing. Slightly smaller than nearby Lesser Yellowlegs, buffy overall with subtle supercillium, slightly downcurved bill, downward Dowitcher-like feeding motion.Labrador Duck (Camptorhynchus labradorius) (1)
- Reported Aug 27 by Paul Foth
- 108 Mile Ranch--Walker Valley, Cariboo, British Columbia
- Media: N/A
- Comments: heard by merlin
All friends, do you have any favourite organisms/taxa? Or favourite wildlife sightings? Do share.
Stuff of the issue
Onomatopoeia: Slurp
Bird insult: Loggerhead Shrike
Book: Crispin S. Guppy and Jon H. Shepard - Butterflies of British Columbia
Highbrow takedown: "There is a tale that Spinoza found the onions of Amsterdam particularly tasteless and accepted their insipidity as part of the price one pays for exile, for being able to live as he pleased. But he discovered one day that all along he had been eating tulip bulbs, not onions." -Guy Davenport, 1954
Lichenized fungus: Eyed Beard (Usnea quasirigidia)
Song: The Beach Boys - “Our Prayer”
Birding hotspot: Quilchena/Merritt, BC - Nicola Cutoff Road
-Paul
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