Post #5: Learning (HOW) to Look Back

As usual, this post is long overdue. However, I think if I had posted this any sooner, much of the vision would have been incomplete. And how appropriate to post about vision and looking back NOW … as hindsight is 20-20! (Because it’s 2020; You see what I did there? Oh nevermind.)

The PhD process — and everything leading up to it — has been tough to say the least. And after every major milestone, I thought, “Okay! This is where it gets a bit easier!” After coursework, after comps exams, after fieldwork — after, after, after  And then … Nope! That “arrived” feeling never came. All there was were platefuls of sadness and despair with a side of anxiety and exhaustion. And there are many memes dedicated to the PhD struggle to attest to this fact. Here are a few of my faves:

.       all this work i have not donethis is finepulp fiction disertation meme

laughing and crying

Part of what kept me going is knowing that SOMEDAY I would look back and realize it was all worth it. But here is the problem with that logic: someday always felt a long ways away. It took me a long time to learn that while no one should ponder on the past in a way that prohibits growth, forgiveness, or forward movement, looking back with specific (healthy) intentions to reflect and honor one’s accomplishments — personal or professional — is a must! Otherwise, it becomes easy to stay in grind mode without taking a single moment to celebrate small victories and huge successes.

Furthermore, as an academic, I have also learned how easy it is to live for that NEXT achievement. After having an AMAZING 2019 — where I had received several awards and fellowships — as soon as the moment passed, I was already on to the next major task, the next idea, and the next bit of proof that I was worthy! A worthiness that would destroy the impostor syndrome that is a usual part of the PhD and minority experience. I thought, one day I’ll do enough where I could FINALLY get a seat at the table, with peers, senior scholars, or organizations I respected. Nope!

As a 1st generation, Blackademic female scholar that did not go to an Ivy League — nor the Hidden or “Little” Ivies — I’ve had to fight and claw my way through every barrier. And especially as a junior scholar who tries to reach both academic AND lay / public audiences, I engage in service and privilege teaching in ways that may not always score me the large grants or attract opportunities with prestigious institutions. (Not to say never; it just does not fall in my lap or come as often it does for others.) But as I continuously kept chasing that “day” when it ALL would click and I could stand and say “I’ve made it!” … I lost so many opportunities to sit in the moment and appreciate how far I had come up to THAT particular moment.

For example, when I entered the dissertation portion of my program in 2017, I had a moment of angst and frustration, as things just felt like they would never come together. And I kept questioning, “am I even meant to do this?” But, imagine if I had sat a minute and thought back to 2009, when I was rejected from a PhD program and thought I’d just settle for the MA. (Even though, honestly I had no business pursuing that program, but I’ll leave it at that.) Or, what if I had looked back to amenwhen I was adjuncting and barely making ends meet! Or, if I had taken a moment to reflect on the time I was almost hired for a full-time job, just to be beaten by 1 person because the Dean preferred him over me. Or, I could have even thought back on the time in 2012, when I was in my room, praying to know what my purpose on the earth was and hoping for an open door. If I had stopped for a second along my journey and took a glimpse in the rear-view mirror, I would have said, “Wow … chick! You’ve come a mighty long way!”

And as weird as it sounds, even when I am in a moment of grief, I have to project to a future Tiffany, knowing that THAT version of me WILL look back and be grateful for the moment at hand — even the twists n’ turns, detours, pit stops, and accidents that made me want to park it just setup camp in some dry, desolate dessert. For I knew when I was crying about the ridiculous loads of coursework, the insane stress of comps exams, and the incredibly unstructured chaos of fieldwork, there would come a time when I would look back and not see the bad; I would wish I could go back. Thus, when it was time to isolate and write — thanks to a finishing grant and fellowship that required forgoing work and focusing on the dissertation, I could aim to enjoy it. Even though it was absolutely driving a busy-body like me crazy at first, I knew the future Dr. Jones who will be busy with piles of grading, research, and service work, would look back and say “why didn’t I enjoy that more!”

And, call it rose-colored glasses or romanticizing the past, but today … when I glance in the rear view and take in the story that is my life, it’s quite hard to zero in on of all of the pain I have endured to get here. And in many ways, it has much to do with seeing this chapter coming to an end and seeing another on the horizon. (But that’s another post for another time!) But this just shows me that with enough distance from the scene of the crash, the smoke and wreckage becomes less visible. And what remains is the makings of a better Tiffany.

The aims of reflecting backwards, especially for someone who seeks to be an educator or mentor, should not just be a selfish, ego-boosting endeavor, however. (Well, maybe not just that!) But, it can and should supply information that will aid someone else’s journey. With the right lenses on — i.e., not a critical look that focuses on the shoulda-coulda-wouldas — one can gleam lessons that becomes advice and wisdom you share with others. I have a cousin who is pursuing her advanced degree. And I constantly tell her, “Here! Look at what I did, so you can do it better!” It makes no sense that people behind you should continuously run into the same potholes you did along the way. It takes work, yes. It takes maybe pausing and refocusing your efforts for a second, of course. But, if you create road map or directions with warning signs and landmarks, how much easier will it be for future generations to improve and excel? And it’s even better if you can pop into the passenger seat and offer guidance in the moment!

kermit and fonzie

So, what am I trying to say:

  1. Do not just keep driving for miles and miles without taking in all of the milestones behind you. (You’ll miss out on the opportunity to appreciate and celebrate your journey up to that point!)
  2. Do not stay looking backwards; instead, take a pause and a quick glimpse to reflect. (No one can drive and plan to arrive anywhere safely focused solely on what’s behind them.)
  3. Do reflect backwards in order to propel yourself forwards.  (Take from the past and all that is good or constructive and use it for your benefit or to assist others.)

So … as I sit here trying to motivate myself through this LAST stretch of the PhD program (that beast AKA the dissertation), I think back to the girl who thought her dreams were just that: unattainable fantasies. I can see her, looking at her vision board and thinking all that was in front of her seemed impossible. And, I see her praying and hoping that one day she would be exactly where I stand, in front of the computer and on the precipice of Tiffany Marquise Jones, PhD.  I look back … and I’m grateful.


Blog post #4: Learning to (White) Balance!


Note: this post should have been released in Feb. of 2019. But, grant writing took over and I just lost track of any self-indulgent projects like this blog! For posterity and my own sanity, I did not want this post to go to waste. So…here it is! And with it, hopefully, the resurrection of reflections via this blog. vid cert

So … it’s been a while since my last post. But … LIFE! PhD life at that. Not that long ago, I was planning my foray into the field, and now … it’s time to write up my findings. Seriously! Where did the time go?! Well, they say time flies when you’re having fun. While I would not always refer to this arduous journey as ‘fun,’ I have to admit, I wish I could stop time and do it all over again. There are just SO many moments I wish could go back, revisit, and really document them as I experienced it – both on this blog and for my work. And given my recent completion of my Videography certificate, I now have more skill behind the camera and thus better adept at the basics, which seems like a year too late.

But honestly, even if I could go back, I’ve just had to accept that it’s just impossible to capture ALL of the nuances of culture, interactions, performances, and art. The camera, while a powerful tool that has allowed humanity to freeze certain moments in time and salvage them for perpetuity, is limited. So, as stated in the previous post, I’ve been practicing putting the camera down. That said … in a surprising twist of fate, the camera and I have bonded in a way that both thrills me and scares me a bit. Yes … both / and. While my new photog journey had me learning to focus and white balance, my recent travels abroad had me questioning my inability to balance, metaphorically speaking, which is a bad habit of mine. Often, I tend to look at things in extremes (i.e., black and white, good or bad, either / or).

As a reward for finishing a tough year of fieldwork, and for a slight reprieve before the next phase of analysis and actual writing, I rewarded myself with a trip to one of my bucket list places: IRELAND! (Well, I also went to London. But this was my 2nd visit.) I literally got to see firsthand the rolling green hills, hear traditional Irish folk music, and drink genuine Irish Whiskey!!! And while there, I tried to practice the mindfulness and awareness I had recently discovered  – using the eyes God gave me as the lenses for focusing on and capturing each moment. So, for this trip, I did not take NEARLY as many pictures as a I would have. *Sigh* (This decision would prompt a much-needed learning opportunity.)

My co-traveler / friend, however, took ALL the pictures. Sometimes 15 of the SAME freakin’ statue!!! With tons of time wasted getting the perfect shot, snapping stills from every possible angle, I was often annoyed by my companion’s overly ambitious attempt to record every waking moment. I kept telling her to put the camera down, prompting her to following my lead — as my “enlightened” self would try to make a memory in my mind. How would I do this? Well, I’ve actually learned this trick many years ago: 1)  be still and take in the moment, 2) identify things that would appeal to as many of the 5 senses as possible, and 3) zero in on the most prominent sensory detail(s) and name it (e.g., I hear a traditional Irish flute, I am tasting the tangy sweet of the Guinness pie, I see the busyness of the pub). And later, the next time you see, hear, or taste anything of resemblance to those details,  you trigger that memory, with the ability to recall and relive that moment.  This trick was my go-to in Ireland, with a few clicks of photos and recordings here and there. And, I thought to myself, “I’m so evolved.” Ha! Was I in for an awakening!

Upon returning home, I was quickly snapped back into reality. Being back in the hustle and bustle of the states, without my nightly visits to the pubs or coffee shops, and in a mindset driven by the RUSH, RUSH, RUSH that is American culture, I quickly needed a hit of that same high – the high of Dublin streets and of the natural beauty I saw in places like Glendalough, Wicklow Mountains. (For movie buffs, this is where they show the wedding in Braveheart and the “meet-cute” in P.S. I love You!) I swear … upon standing on Irish soil and rock at Giant’s Causeway, I felt completely at peace. It’s such a simple (cliche) expression, but I was truly amazed by the spiritual experience of being in absolute splendor. I remember at that time, I just knew THAT moment would definitely come home with me.

In some ways, it did. All is not completely lost, of course. But, how often do I just stumble upon an Irish flute or even a Guinness Pie??? So, many of the observable details and my so-called sensory triggers were so particular to the area that I would need more to conjure up the memories and feelings from my travels. So, I reached for my phone and Ipod (yes, I still have one!). And I skimmed through the stills I thought were worth capturing – only to entertain huge disappointment.  Not only was a missing a LARGE chunk of my trip, but the quality of images just were frustrating to me! I’ve gotten used to the sharp focus that comes with using better quality equipment and more advanced settings than what my little Samsung 6 could offer. But, quality photos / vids have become like grandma’s cooking – is anything less worth tasting? OMG! Have I become … hooked? Am I now one of those people who will travel to places with a DSLR, 5 lenses, tripods, memory cards, and a gimble for my phone as well???

It’s funny, because I so used to judge those people.  I find myself now unhappily scrolling through my Ireland photo gallery. And even worse, I find myself  … (okay, you can maybe judge me a little) … I find myself tapping on my friend’s shoulder for some of her photos. ☹  Yep, because my friend had her camera! Of course it was not professional grade, but it was a lot better than my 5 year old phone that is ready to call it quits!

So, what is the lesson? Don’t let pendulum swing in the exact opposite direction. Yes, I should take time to enjoy the moments in front of me. Practicing presence is not a bad thing, per se. But, ANYTHING in excess is a problem. I have learned I can embrace my newfound connection with the art of photography and cinematography. There is a place for seeing natural beauty and wanting that visual for a lifetime. I think of the canvases I missed out on because of my unwillingness to adopt a new principle in moderation and with attention to context. For instance, if you’re going to a bucket list place, there is room for a bit of documentation. After all, I am an ethnographer. My work is just that – the practice of observing, capturing, and chronicling moments for preservation and celebration.

“So, let’s try balance next time Tiffany,” is what I say to myself with a bit grace and forgiveness. Besides, who ever got ANYTHING right their first time, eh?


Blog Post #3: Through the lens…

This week, I was back at SpitDatDC. And this time, per my advisor’s advice, I decided to put the camera down. Now, I kept the camera and recorder rollin’ – I’m not an idiot! The researcher in me didn’t want to miss any important moments. But, something happens when I pick up that camera and view my participants through the lens of that device. I immediately step into the frame as a filmmaker and/or researcher. I see everything through the scope of wanting to capture and relay the essence of what I see for other audiences to come; in that way, I become a vessel — and I can feel and appreciate the beauty of doing such work when I am behind the camera. Or, I analyze every moment as data, mentally calculating how certain elements will fit as part of my developing thesis. And again, I enjoy the challenge that comes with utilizing a heightened sense of awareness when doing ethnographic observation.

But, doing the work of a film crew and researcher all on my own also feels very chaotic at times. There is the job of the camera woman / videographer: of knowing the camera,  if things are actually in focus or not, if the color is accurate (aka white balanced), how the backgrounds / setting may impact a viewer’s eye, etc. And then, there is audio, which is a WHOLE other ordeal — that I’m learning on the job. But also, I bring the knowledge of editing with me: the relationship between what I’m filming with the end product. This includes paying attention to what shots are interesting and artistic, how can I zoom and pan for funky transitions, what aspects of the space, a performer’s body language, or audience reactions can I use as background fodder to help narrate the story (aka B-Roll).

And all of this is happening in my head WHILE I’m also attuned to the narrative content, which the discourse analyst in me is most sensitive to, especially now that I have enough insights of the art form, the participants, the spaces around me to know what is “salient” or significant to my thesis. But also, I must stay in the moment and flexible to absorb those surprising and emergent elements that may shift or shape my research focus in ways that ethnography requires, instead of operating solely on my agenda – the difference between shooting a documentary vs. an ethnographic film. And such flexibility becomes impossible, if one never does the necessary task to REALLY see what’s at play: putting the camera / recorder down!!!!

Lesson #3:

Take a moment to just be in the space. Take time to look through your own eyes and absorb the moment with your own metaphorical lenses. For not only is it about what you see, but putting the camera and recorder far from your grasp helps you forget about the “work” of the dissertation and just feel, respond to, and connect with what’s happening right then, not in post-production or upon hitting the replay button.


Pictured: Dwayne B. / Photo credit:

This lesson was especially important for me, as I’m not just looking to capture oral history; I’m observing poetry. And because of the personal nature of this content, it important that I travel along with these artists when they share. As dopalicious artist, Busboys and Poets host, and co-facilitator of SpitDat Dwayne Lawson Brown (Dwayne B. aka the Crochet Kingpin) explained to me, there is a difference between performing and sharing. And I can honestly say I had observed this finding long before he gave language to this dichotomy. But, I was most sensitive to this difference when I put the tripod away, I propped my camera on a pillow nearby but out of “frame” – or rather out of my eye sight — and let my eyes do the viewing. I let my ears do the audio capture. And, as cheesy as it sounds, I let my body, my memory, and my soul be the core processor of the footage captured.

As researchers, we often forget that our experiences are data! So, it is important to be aware of how we feel, i.e., engage experientially, in the environments we hope to explore academically. Otherwise, you start to look like this guy …

…so intent on catching each wave in action that he’s missing the bigger picture: the actual ocean! You end up missing out on ALL of the sensory information that is just as relevant, such as the peace one feels when listening to the ebb and flow of the water, the taste of salt in the air, and the contrast of gritty sand and foamy tides that caress your feet. You miss the moment.

When I finally did myself a solid and just allowed myself to exist in the space,  I honestly reconnected with the very elements of the art form that drew me in in the first place! Hence, it took me back to a time long before I had a thesis in mind. I was just an aspiring artist being inspired by other artists, or better yet, I was another person connecting with another person, as they spoke of similar feelings of  trauma, loss, victories, braggadocio, anger, etc.

That’s just it … this week, I connected again.

my eye
Photo Credit: Tiffany M. Jones

~T. Marquise

Blog Post #2: The Rule of Reciprocity

This week has been pretty spectacular! Not only was it my birthday week, but I got a chance to have a well-respected poet named Droopy the Broke Baller lead me through his memories of D.C. — pre-gentrification, that is — and D.C. poetry. After walking around the U street corridor — home to the FAMOUS Ben’s Chili Bowl and flagship location for Busboys and Poets — and reminiscing about some of his favorite poetry / open mic spots, we enjoyed an impromptu happy hour to break bread and chat.

poet, droopy, spitdatDC
Pictured: Droopy the Broke Baller aka Drew Anderson.  Photo courtesy of Rhonisha Franklin for RDioneFoto. Flavour courtesy of Gawd.

Not only did I have the pleasure of filming an AMAZING poet, storyteller, and artist, which was more than enough of a present for me. But, I received an even SWEETER gift: I was told something that made not only my day but my whole life! The poet said that he was grateful to have these stories documented for posterity. And knowing they’d go on and become something bigger than him was so appreciated. While all researchers believe that the work work they do is of value — to whom and to what degree, however, is never really known in the process. Honestly, I was just hoping I wouldn’t be a bother to my participants, for an artist’s hustle never ends. But to receive such enthusiastic assistance with this work, to hear that this project is personally meaningful to someone in the community, and to be reminded that the results could ensure that these untold histories live on  — I ==mean, wow! It’s an honor I do not take lightly.

But, in trying to submit my study for ethical review and approval, I was taken aback by the edits that the review board’s representative suggested; I was prompted to remove the signature portion of my consent form, as it was deemed “unnecessary” to obtain this type of consent. I merely only have to invite an artist / participant and consent would be presumed. To be honest, I heard this was “a thing,” but to see it in writing bothered me. Has anyone else come across this? Thoughts? Reactions? Advice???

I made the requested changes and, of course, received approval. But now, I fully realize the onus for ethical treatment and circulation of oral histories is solely up to the researcher. To decide how best to reflect and protect a speaker’s words is also solely up to the researcher. And, to seek actual permission to incorporate a writer or speaker’s actual poetic content or personal stories is — once again — solely up to the researcher. Or rather, it is solely up to me???


Now, I’ve always felt the weight of being granted access into these poets’ lives — because poetic content is not just about words spoken or placed on a page but the experiences lived that inform such content. And, with that comes the responsibility to represent these artists and their work “accurately” (or rather fairly). But given the actual confirmation of an artist’s hopes that these stories will mean MORE than just fodder for research publication or professional accolades motivates me to ensure my chosen community is benefited by letting me into their worlds.

That said, I have seen many a’ folk in academia forget the reciprocity that is part of fieldwork. I have seen people choose projects, especially high profiled researchers, for its “cool factor” or potential to attract grant money — and never produce anything of value to that community. Even as a novice PhD student, that felt “off” to me. And I remember “clutching my pearls” when I heard the answer to my question of what inspired a certain professor’s interest in his field site — mind you I was prepared for a moving tribute or heartfelt reflection. I was thinking: “let’s get ready to CUE THE VIOLINS, release the doves and wipe the tears!” Well…that was until I got his answer: “money!” Simpy put and said without apologies. And even more disheartening, it was not even a breath later and he was moving on to the next “lucrative” project and vulnerable community.

I understand many of us have the best of intentions to make a difference in various chosen communities’ or participants’ lives, and sometimes we just get distracted or bogged down by life. But I caution researchers — and I say this to myself as I’m telling this to whoever out there — do not forget those who opened their homes, hearts, histories to us. Many people don’t need a promissory note of so many dollars or even access to academic fame. They just want their stories and realities to mean something — especially for those whose cultures have survived only orally.

Lesson #2:

Never underestimate nor undervalue the impact of collecting oral histories or documenting folklore. But also, be mindful of the gift of being entrusted with a person’s poems, stories, or songs. And do your absolutely best to treasure, protect, and RESPECT these texts — especially if the ethics of such work is solely up for interpretation. Take a moment’s pause to price your most treasured memories, QUADRUPLE that figure and, just maybe, you’ll get the idea of their worth to your storyteller.reciprocity

I hope the products from my work will show a fourth of the appreciation I feel for what I have been privy to observe during this time. And today, in bringing this productive research week to a close by filming at the Open Mic sanctuary known as SpitDat, and hearing people pour out their soul in song and poetic verse, I just can’t believe how much fun and inspiring this work can be.  Well, under the best of circumstances — because there are moments that are true tests. BELIEVE ME!

But today, I’m basking in the joy. Happy birthday me!!!

~T. Marquise


Blog Post #1: Letting Go…

20180827_185417So …. the goal of this blog was to document and share ALL of my research activities in the DMV (DC-MD-VA). However, I soon realized that there was just TOO much activity to process, capture, and relay appropriately. (Most days, I’m lucky to make it through the intense work I’ve scheduled for myself. *sigh*)  Instead, I will use this medium to capture some gripes, victories, lessons learned, etc. that comes with doing fieldwork as well as glimpses of my journey as an aspiring filmmaker / storyteller.

Through sharing these moments of venting and processing what I would (hope to) do better in the future, I hope this encourages and assists others on the same journey. These tips are in no way a ONE SIZE FITS ALL or guru-like interpretation of what one SHOULD do. Nah! If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that fieldwork is the biggest test of one’s inner control freak, as there is SO much you cannot control and must just accept.  And thus, to some degree, it’s a great teacher of surviving life in general!

Lesson #1: If you can set a flexible intention, plan what you can, and then let go and surrender to the process, you can begin to find creativity and joy in the chaotic process of fieldwork and research.

~T. Marquise