Cancelling Plans
The other day, I was on my way into the city on my bike, almost at my destination, when I got a call. The call was from the secretary of the person I was on my way to meet.
I was on my way to interview a politician as part of the field research element of my PhD thesis. As anyone who has conducted human research in a University setting would know, the process of gaining ethical approval to conduct the research alone is a mind-numbingly (or, in some instances, enraging) experience.
And that’s before you go about actually sourcing your interview subjects, something which I have found challenging given what academics would call ‘institutional barriers to access’ that politicians and other people in significant positions of power enjoy.
Anyway, when I saw the call flash up from the unknown number, I figured it was bad news. The secretary told me very politely that something had come up and that the politician would need to reschedule the interview, preferably to the same time next week.
Now, I am 100 per cent aware that this is a very minor inconvenience, and that the change in time will not impact my research negatively in any way. But nonetheless, I was filled with a kind of stubborn rage that wouldn’t subside for a few hours. I have never really noticed it about myself before, but I suddenly realised that I am that person that absolutely cracks it when people cancel plans – especially close to something that I have been looking forward to.
As a kid, I was always ‘looking forward’ to things, always planning the next exciting adventure, task or activity. As an adult, I notice myself doing the same, as something of strategy to keep myself optimistic. When I reflect, I can remember at times being very disappointed when promises weren’t kept, and plans were jettisoned.
But in this instance, I was just so livid, to an extent completely out of all proportion to what had occurred. I intellectually knew, even in that moment, that the parliamentarian was a very busy person, that they owed me nothing and had essentially agreed to donate their fairly valuable time to assist me in my research project. But, knowing something intellectually and accepting it emotionally are often two very different things.
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