On Deserving to Have your PhD Funded

Image Description: A Photo of my Masters of Art Certificate
Image Description: A Photo of my Masters of Art Certificate

There is a lot of advice about getting advanced degrees, particularly PhDs one of the big ones being

Don’t do it unless you don’t have to pay for it.

PhDs are expensive and time consuming. When I was accepted to my PhD, I was offered a funding package. It barely covers my rent, much less my tuition. My funding is also contingent on whether I am working or not. My health over the last year has been in shambles for a variety of reasons and my ability to work has been compromised. Oh, I’m accommodated but I receive my money in 3 separate payments. The 4 hours a week they pay me to work. Then a smaller amount to that used to be paid in the paycheck but isn’t anymore for some reason. Finally I get another few hundred dollars the following month in recognition of both my funding and the fact that my accommodations state that I am well enough to work 10 hours a week (which is the standard ideal average set by the university. I just need my tasks to be accessible. I never asked for less work.

This 3 payment system makes it difficult to impossible to survive on a budget that already also includes a student loan.

If I wasn’t a PhD student, I would be homeless or a “burden on the state” those are just realities that I have to live with. Being a PhD student keeps me fed.

My research is also going to require field work which will cost money. I will have to return to my hometown and acquire all of my old school and medical records.

I also have to consider whether I have access to research materials in an accessible format. The more books I can own in kindle format, the more organized my research will be. I am of course investing my own money in this endeavour but I am going to come up short.

I have decided to start asking the readers of my blog to consider supporting my PhD work in a number of ways. This decision has lead to a lot of backlash though largely not by the regular readers of my blog.

I am receiving criticism mainly from trolls on twitter but I am also getting shamed on reddit and it all comes down to this idea that if I ask for money that I must be some kind of entitled fraud.

For the record, I’ve thus far been given a whopping $90 which I spent on ebooks. The idea that the simple act of asking for help constitutes entitlement is interesting. If only Jordan Peterson’s fans were of the same opinion about him while he was making thousands a month on the site (until he was kicked off).

I currently make a whopping $45/month on patreon. There seems to be this false idea that the mere act of asking for money or other help immediately results in success is also frequently present.

So do I “deserve” to have my PhD crowdfunded? That’s up to other people to decide. I do know that my research has value and has already peaked the interest of a number of fellow academics (don’t worry fam, I know we’re all poor).

My blog stats are exploding today, mostly as a result of people enraged with the idea that I might be overly entitled for asking for things that I have no control over whether I receive them.

There is also just the issue of what online content counts as the kind that people can “legitimately” turn into businesses. My blog content is often activist in tone and many seem to think that politically active marginalized people can survive on nothing but air because they get very angry when we remind people we need to eat and pay rent. The idea that my activism isn’t work is always ironic particularly in September when my blog stats let me know just how many universities have courses that use my work.

This has never been about whether I deserve to have my PhD funded and everything to do with who is allowed to personally place value on their own work. I am not forcing people to give me money. There is no pay wall on this website.

Do I deserve to get paid for the work I do, yes. Are you personally required to put up the money, no.

Thank you for coming to my rant on work, ability, and worth

How to Support My Work

So now for the very in-depth appeal for support for mu PhD. Please read through this, there are so many ways to help, including just sharing this blog post on social media.

Kindle ebooks read on my iPad are the easiest way for me to read and take notes unfortunately Amazon does not allow people to buy ebooks for others through their wishlist system. I have an Amazon Wish list anyway as some of the books can only be purchased in print or from third party sellers because they are out of print. If you could buy me one of the books that can only be had in print, I would greatly appreciate it. If you want to help fund the ebooks I’ll need you can buy me a gift card and send it to the following email address

The email is kimberleyjanephd@gmail.com

I will not be answering queries about my research through this email. It is solely a way for people who want to support my work to be able to do so. (this is a safety boundary). If you want to talk to me, find me on Twitter.

My research and supporting myself will get past the reading phase and there will be field work in my future. If you would like to help me fund my PhD in the long term you can

support me on patreon

Become a Patron!

buy me a ko-fi

send me money via paypal

send an e money transfer to the email above (if you have scruples about third party sites)

I also have a generic disability wish list of things that would just improve my quality of life

Thank you for your ongoing support. and just an FYI I’m changing my name socially to Kimberley Jane Erin. You can call me Kim or Jane but I prefer Jane. I am however, not the least uncomfortable with Kim so don’t worry about messing up.

It’s time I really leaned into my identity as a scholar. I hope you’ll support me

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Rereading my Childhood for my Dissertation: Mine for Keeps

Image description: Book cover for Mine For Keeps by Jean Little. A girl sits among foliage wearing a white hat and a pink coat. She is cradling a little white dog and and underarm crutch can be partially seen next to her. (Source)

This post contains spoilers.

As part of my requirements for my PhD I’m doing a book audit of books from my childhood that were meaningful in some way. Some of those books were books assigned in classes in schools (yes, I will be rereading To Kill a Mockingbird for the first time since high school, I will also be reading Go Set A Watchmen). It is hard even in hindsight to determine exactly what some of these books meant to me but they are the ones whose titles I could never forget or that I reread over and over or found again at key moments in my life.

The book audit assignment is not going to allow me the space to really consider these books in detail. I will not be writing essays but rather explaining why the book is significant in the context of my dissertation (for more info click here). I have thus far only read one book, so I don’t know if I will dissect each of them here on the blog. I don’t yet know what emotions are going to come up or if I feel comfortable speaking at length about a particular book without further research.

Without further ado, the first installment in a potential series

Mine For Keeps (1962) by Jean Little

Summary

Sarah Jane (Sally) Copeland has cerebral palsy and has spent most of her school years in an institution for “handicapped” (it was the sixties y’all) children. A new rehabilitation centre is opening up close to her family and Sally is moving home permanently for the first time since she was a small child. She will be attending the same school as her siblings. Sally is scared but excited.

This was my third read through of this book. Both previous reads were done before I turned 18. All I can say at 32 upon rereading it is to say. Wow, I was really starved for representation if I treasured the memory of this book.

It is important to point out that Jean Little is both Canadian (yay CanLit) and is partially blind (vintage CripLit). She has written several children’s books on the topic of disability.

Mine for Keeps, offers an odd combination of realistic portrayal of disability and those smarmy morality tales that were popular in children’s fiction at the time. At times you have the impression that you have left suburban 60s Canada and fallen into a Dick and Jane school reader.

It is almost as though the author didn’t know how to balance realism with the morality that is inevitably expected in children’s books with disabled characters. Sally doesn’t just have to deal with going to a mainstream school that has ill considered her needs and balancing family life as a long-term resident and not just the summer and Christmas guest. Sally has to save the self esteem of an unpopular Dutch immigrant boy named Piet to make his sister happy.

Rereading this book as an adult, I cringe more that I identify with the book. Sometimes I cringe because I do identify with the book but not the book’s message.

To her credit Jean little does try to subvert the supercrip narrative that the book sets up. Piet is depressed because not long after arriving in Canada he contracted rheumatic fever and was sick for months. Though now out of bed Piet’s activities are still restricted by his health. His English isn’t as good as his sister Elsje’s and he is unpopular with the boys his age because his inability to participate makes him appear standoffish.

Before he was ill Piet trained animals and even has a very well trained dachshund named Willem. Despite being somewhat recovered Piet refuses to take back responsibility for Willem from his sister believing himself to crippled (though he said it in Dutch).

Elsje decides that if Sally can train her own puppy Susie, it will prove to Piet that he is still capable. Ultimately, Sally just ends up putting Piet on the spot in public forcing him to either display his dog training skill or be embarrassed.

The book is really longer than it needs to be and this seems to be to try to give Sally some semblance of agency in the story but in the end she is really just a pawn in her friend’s ill conceived bid to save her brother from being a moody teenage boy.

The book tries to justify this by giving Sally an odd anonymous obsession with Piet (they don’t even meet until well past halfway through the book) because her brother makes an offhand comment about no one liking Piet but that his sister was in Sally’s class.

Piet is otherwise an absent figure. He appears in two scenes in the entire book. Everything else is Sally being told private family business the teller should definitely be keeping to themselves or eavesdropping on other children complaining about Piet. From this alone Sally creates an ever-changing fantasy Piet that she is platonically obsessed with, for no conceivable reason.

While it is not written with that intent it very much reads like Sally is pursuing training Susie at least to the degree and zeal that she does in the book in order to keep a friend (who can be moody) happy.

There are no real stakes. Sally is able to convince Piet to go back to looking after Willem by pressuring him in front of an audience. The actual time spent training Susie up until this point is just a couple of weeks. Though of course as is the way with such books the children all intend to carry on training their pets. Sally with her friends and Piet with two new friends conveniently with dogs that just happen to be present for Piet’s moment of personal growth. This is a very important literary tool called “for plot convenience”.

Sally uses peer pressure rather than her disabled body to “save Piet”. It really feels like this book is missing basic things like character development and more information on Sally Copeland’s social reality. Perhaps it is just as an adult, that I see not just the gaping plot holes with ill-fitting morality messages stretched on top. The task of “saving Piet” much less meeting Piet is a MacGuffin. Oddly, in this book, a one-dimensional petulant Dutch immigrant who serves as the catalyst that inspires or forces (depending on how you interpret Elsje’s peer pressure) that inspires the disabled person not to mope around being depressed about their life.

The xenophobia over the immigrants in the story is painfully apparent, primarily because the book is trying to horn in the additional message that xenophobia is bad but none of the Dutch characters are likeable. Piet is taciturn and only gets over himself when publicly forced to. Elsje initially isolates Sally by monopolizing the attention of the one girl who seems to like her. When Elsje finally warms up to Sally, Sally quickly becomes the vehicle through which Elsje will “save” her brother. That dynamic between the two never really changes, yet is never questioned.

The characters are really just set pieces so that Sally can navigate learning “lessons” about independence and self-advocacy. Sally’s first lesson is that the person who was primarily responsible for her care at school is an asshole and so is Sally’s mother. I admit I remembered this part. I can’t remember if it struck me as odd upon my first reading but my alarm bells were ringing by the second reading.

On Sally’s first morning home from the institutional school, Sally’s mother left her alone to dress despite Sally always having needed help dressing before. She understandably panics at being expected to independently perform a task that she has always needed and always been given assistance with before.

Turns out all the clothes are made so Sally can dress independently and the school guardian recommended them! Prior to that moment Sally had been expected to dress herself in clothes without adaptations and there was always someone to assist her with the things she couldn’t do. She had no reason to expect accessible clothes. Her mother is also a jerk about Sally not noticing the clothes were accessible. Her mother tells her a story from when Sally was FOUR and scared of the beach until her dad ignored her fear and just plunked her unable to escape the situation ass in the surf. In this blatant false equivalence Sally is immediately enamored of the water but her mother reminds her that the family taunted a FOUR-YEAR-OLD with the nonsensical nickname Scarey Sarey (Yes, Scarey Sarey not Scardy Sarey). The message is supposed to be “how do you even know if you like something until you try it”. That, however, ignores the context where Sally has no reasonable expectation of accessible clothing. She’s never experienced it before and we learn that the person most responsible for her care has been withholding this kind of access in the institution. The book doesn’t really get into the complicated politics of normalization that are hinted at here. Sally is wrong and must learn a lesson, not her mother.

The book is full of these false independence messages. Apparently, in the world of Mine for Keeps nondisabled siblings are just tripping over themselves to do a disabled siblings chores (anecdotally, this seems suspect) instead of trying to adapt the chore to make it accessible.

This is the one place where a book full of otherwise toxic disability messages shines. Sally is constantly being consciously accommodated. She isn’t left out or left to figure it out on her own. People consider their impact on Sally. People apologize when they didn’t consider how their actions would impact Sally. This is restricted to areas of physical access though as much of the story seems to care less about how people treat Sally as a person (see: Elsje’s peer pressure). Socially, Sally is only friends with people who approach her. There is very much a vibe of “if they are smiling, they are safe”. Considering the direction Elsje’s character takes this is unfortunate.

The implication at the end of the book is that Sally has found community but, she only seemed to get it via that age-old literary device of “plot convenience”.

Despite trying to challenge the standard disability narrative, Jean Little reinforces it. I only noticed how she subverts the narrative with Piet on my third reading and that only because the book abruptly ends there. So, I guess Sally only existed to save Piet after all.

How to Support My Work

So now for the very in-depth appeal for support for mu PhD. Please read through this, there are so many ways to help, including just sharing this blog post on social media.

Kindle ebooks read on my iPad are the easiest way for me to read and take notes unfortunately Amazon does not allow people to buy ebooks for others through their wishlist system. I have an Amazon Wish list anyway as some of the books can only be purchased in print or from third party sellers because they are out of print. If you could buy me one of the books that can only be had in print, I would greatly appreciate it. If you want to help fund the ebooks I’ll need you can buy me a gift card and send it to the following email address

The email is kimberleyjanephd@gmail.com

I will not be answering queries about my research through this email. It is solely a way for people who want to support my work to be able to do so. (this is a safety boundary). If you want to talk to me, find me on Twitter.

My research and supporting myself will get past the reading phase and there will be field work in my future. If you would like to help me fund my PhD in the long term you can

support me on patreon

Become a Patron!

buy me a ko-fi

send me money via paypal

send an e money transfer to the email above (if you have scruples about third party sites)

I also have a generic disability wish list of things that would just improve my quality of life

Thank you for your ongoing support. and just an FYI I’m changing my name socially to Kimberley Jane Erin. You can call me Kim or Jane but I prefer Jane. I am however, not the least uncomfortable with Kim so don’t worry about messing up.

It’s time I really leaned into my identity as a scholar. I hope you’ll support me

According to Bruce Pardy, I Shouldn’t be a PhD Student

In the years that I have spent in graduate school, I have not once been subjected to a timed test. All of the work in my program of study is based on either written work or oral presentations. While this isn’t the universal experience of graduate school, it isn’t wholly unique either. Yet, according to a recent piece in the National Post, I probably shouldn’t be a PhD student.

Bruce Pardy, a professor of law at Queen’s University wrote a piece in the National Post which was based on an academic article he had written in the Education and Law Journal (which thanks to my student status I have access to and was able to read). In both, Pardy makes the argument that students with mental and learning disabilities should not be given additional time to write exams.

His argument relies heavily on athletic metaphors and a semantic deconstruction of the word discrimination. In his National Post piece he begins,

Last week at the World Track and Field Championships, Usain Bolt ran his final race. Andre De Grasse, the Canadian sprint star, missed his last chance to beat Bolt because of a hamstring tear. If, instead of pulling out of the race, De Grasse had claimed accommodation for his injury and demanded a 20-metre head start, no one would have taken the request seriously.

He continues later with his definition of discrimination,

To “discriminate” means to distinguish or tell apart. While the law prohibits certain specific instances of discrimination, telling people apart is not illegal but an essential tool for functioning in the world. People discriminate constantly. They choose to be friends with some people and not others. Employers hire better qualified candidates rather than those less qualified. Distinguishing between people even on prohibited grounds is proper if done for a bona fide purpose.

While it is true that discriminate can simply mean to tell apart. His semantic parsing of the word is used to set the reader up for the idea that people with learning disabilities are simply either genuinely inferior students or students who don’t really have an inherent disadvantage at all. It also serves to create a barrier against rebuttals which would call out his opinions for potentially being the potentially illegal, prejudicial kind of discrimination.

He argues that extra time inherently gives students with learning disabilities an advantage based on what he perceives to be the primary intentions of timed testing, “how well they can think, learn, analyze, remember, communicate, plan, prepare, organize, focus and perform under pressure” (quote from the National Post piece). He assumes that additional time for students with learning disabilities fundamentally undermines these things. In his lengthier academic piece, he claims that arguments supporting the idea that additional time level the playing field for students with learning disabilities are false. His argument is entirely premised on the idea that the skills ostensibly being graded are skills that students with learning disabilities simply fundamentally lack and can be faked by the addition of more time. In both the National Post and journal article he references Alicia Raimundo, a mental health advocate who explains that additional time for students with learning disabilities could potentially mean the difference between a C grade and an A grade.

He disingenuously claims in the National Post “Given enough time, many students could put together a paper that would earn a 90”. The thing is that he presumably knows better or at least has been presented with information that contradicts this assumption. His entire argument is based on the idea that given enough time everyone would do better (thought to be clear students with added time accommodations are still subject to time limits). Yet, in his academic piece he actually references a paper that actively contradicts this assumption. He cites Suzanne E. Rowe’s 2009 article in Legal Writing which makes the complete opposite argument. Not only does Rowe support students with learning disabilities being given additional time on exams, she proves why it’s effective and why it doesn’t disadvantage nondisabled students.

Pardy claimed that many students could achieve a grade of ninety given sufficient time, however, Rowe cites a number of studies which showed that this is not the case. That while students with learning disabilities tended to score better after having been given additional time, students without disabilities had no or only minimal benefit from being given more time.

Despite citing Rowe’s article, himself, Pardy does not engage with any of those findings or acknowledge that they exist. Instead preferring to base his argument against additional time on the insinuation that students with learning disabilities simply do not have the skills to succeed. His evidence? That they perform less well on timed exams when held to the same time constraints as their nondisabled peers. He does not accept the idea that students with learning disabilities are going into such exams with an inherent disadvantage and that the process is already tilted against them and that the addition of time for these students levels the playing field. He is however, unable to explain how students who apparently possess weaker analytical skills, weaker skills in preparation for testing, weaker skills in time management, and weaker focus etc. somehow magically gain those skills when given extra time to write the exam.

Rowe is very clear in stating that those students already have those skills and that during studies on the benefits of additional time, those students who were weaker in preparation and analytical skills still tended to do poorly regardless of being given additional time. Ultimately, at the end of the exam, students are still exhibiting those skills regardless of whether they have been given additional time or not.

In the footnotes of his academic piece Pardy notes that on occasion he receives exams from students who have been given extended time about which he observes “[s]ometimes the answers in those exams are significantly longer than any of the others.”

I have invigilated and graded my share of timed exams for both standard timing and those with accommodations. Even in the confines of the standard exam, there will be students who write significantly more than their peers. This does not necessarily translate into better work or a higher grade. In terms of exams that included accommodations including addition of time, they were not all stellar and I have failed students who wrote extended exams because the content of their exam did not merit a passing grade. Pardy does not expand on whether the longer exam was in fact a better exam. The insinuation seems to be that because the student was able to write more content that they somehow did not require the accommodation or that this somehow proves an unfair advantage when it is in fact just an anecdote which lacks context.

He is in effect dog whistling the idea that students with learning disabilities may not deserve their accommodations and may not have learning disabilities at all. He laments the fact that in some Ontario universities (mine included), students with mental disabilities are not required to disclose their diagnosis. They simply require a letter from their doctor outlining the fact that they have medical needs and that those needs require specific accommodations which the doctor then outlines.

He implies that students may be lying about their conditions when he says “Typically, only a medical note is required to get accommodation, even though many clinicians rely on self-reported symptoms to measure impairment.” In his journal article, he is frustrated by the limited power that he and universities have to interrogate the validity of accommodation requests. As though, the university’s nonmedical staff might know more about the reality of a particular diagnosis then does an actual doctor.

His prejudice against people with learning and mental disabilities is clear in his continued support for the accommodations of students with physical and sensory disabilities. Some of whom he seems blissfully unaware might also benefit from additional time as a result of their disabilities.

In the National Post he argues, “Other kinds of disabilities can be accommodated because they are not what the exam is testing. Blind students, for example, may need to access exam questions with a text reader.” Those same students may also require the use of a computer and dictation software to answer those questions. They might also require text-to-speech software to listen to what they have written in order to ascertain that there are no errors in dictation. This is a time-consuming process. Dictation software is notoriously finicky (I would know I am writing this piece using dictation software right now). Failure to properly proofread and edit text written with dictation software might result in submitting something that has sections which are entirely incomprehensible (or in the case of this article, that Bruce Pardy be routinely refered to as Bruce party). Does the validity of the accommodation end as soon as it might require added time? Or is it a legitimate accommodation?

Fundamentally, Pardy premises his argument on the idea that allowing additional time for students with learning disabilities is unfair to students not given additional time. While I have already addressed why this is a weak argument and that students are not actively disadvantaged by having their disabled peers be given additional time, in his journal article Pardy persists, “[s]tudents have a direct and personal interest in the conditions and criteria imposed upon the other members of their class. They have a stake in the fairness of the competition.”

This argument boils down to the idea that students with learning disabilities should not be given additional time because their classmates would think it was unfair. Basically, privileging the prejudicial opinions of classmates over the rights of disabled students.

This is likely why Pardy focused on the false argument that everyone or at least many people might benefit from being given this accommodation. It makes the output seem unfairly weighted in favour of disabled students.

Not only is there no evidence that this is true in the case of granting additional time, it is not true of some other other accommodations where nondisabled students might feel disadvantaged. As an undergraduate I benefited from not only additional time during exams but also having a notetaker. The former accommodation was relatively easily hidden from my classmates as I wrote exams separately. Having a notetaker was not so invisible and I was occasionally confronted by resentful classmates who suggested that I should not be in university or claimed the same argument as Pardy that “everyone would benefit from that”. Again, this is untrue. It has been suggested that students who take their own notes, particularly if they are hand written tend to retain information better. Having a notetaker simply allowed me to have access to notes that I would otherwise not be able to take myself. I was actually still at a disadvantage because I could not access the added benefits of taking my own notes. The injustice was entirely in the perception of different treatment not actually in the outcome of my academic achievement.

Pardy repeatedly claims that allowing students with learning disabilities to have additional time on exams is somehow comparable to allowing an athlete to run a shorter race than their competitors. This is however a false equivalency, it is entirely dependent on the assumption that students with learning disabilities were already on a level playing field with their nondisabled peers and that the accommodation gave them an advantage when in reality the accommodation seeks to erase an inherent disadvantage. Either, that or it assumes that the disabled students should not be taking the exam at all. This seems the more likely of the two as he utilizes the story of De Grasse, an athlete who sat out of a race because of an injury. The implication is clear, if you are unable to perform within the constraints set by the professor, then don’t show up. Pardy would likely dispute this as being his intention but it is a logical conclusion based on his sports analogies. It has to be assumed that students with learning disabilities are either the athlete who was right to sit out or be an athlete with an unfair head start. There is no room in Pardy’s argument for the reality of academic disadvantage that can be controlled for through the reasonable accommodation of extra time.

So, convinced is he, that students with learning disabilities have no inherent disadvantage that in his academic piece he takes the comparison to even more absurd lengths,

If a professor granted extra time on the exam to Caucasian students, the others would obviously have a complaint under the Code. If she gave extra time to five students who did renovations on her house, the rest of the class could well seek administrative law remedies.

He equates racism and potential bribery with an academic accommodation for disability. The only reasonable explanation as to why he feels this a fair analogy is if he discounts the reality and validity of learning disabilities.

He also seeks to limit how people can disagree with him. Through his parsing of the word discriminate. He seeks to suggest that people who would call his opinions discriminatory (in the sense of social disadvantage) are over reacting. He seeks to rob people of the language to express how problematic his opinions are by setting up a scenario where that word no longer means what it is culturally understood to mean and what it usually means specifically in circumstances like this one. He wants people to believe that it isn’t an inappropriate kind of discrimination to openly imply that students with learning disabilities are either measurably inferior or simply fakers seeking an unfair advantage. An advantage that research shows doesn’t even exist. In the unlikely event that a student hoodwinked a doctor into an inaccurate diagnosis and gained extra time. The research clearly suggests that they would not benefit. They would simply be stigmatizing themself.

And if Pardy has done nothing else, it is show what sort of prejudice exists against people with learning disabilities in academia. He also shows just how comfortable some people are in utilizing that prejudice to justify discrimination.

Under Pardy’s argument, I should not have reached the level of graduate student. Much of my undergraduate academic success is as a result of academic accommodation. Interestingly enough, I only sought academic accommodations which did include additional time on exams after the urging of one of my professors who saw how much I was struggling and realized that I could and deserved to do better.

Professors like Bruce Pardy rely on the public acceptance of misinformation. And he is misinforming them. He has read Suzanne Rowe’s work which contradicts the very foundations of his arguments and yet he not only fails entirely to substantially contradict it but ignores the existence of this conflicting information altogether. It is based in prejudice and is only sustained through the widespread acceptance of that prejudice. His argument is based on the acceptance of statements that he has not proven and are maintained through an attempt to sow the seeds of doubt around the validity of learning disabilities and the real needs of people who have them. Not through evidence but through implication.

According to Bruce Pardy, I have potentially illegitimately taken one of a limited number graduate spots from a more deserving (read: nondisabled) student. That I might lack the critical thinking skills to truly deserve to be a PhD student. But then again, I didn’t write and publish an article in a journal defending prejudicial treatment against students with learning disabilities that included a reference to an article that completely contradicted my argument and then pretend that I had not been exposed to those ideas.

 

 

If you liked this post and want to support my continued writing please consider buying me a metaphorical coffee (or two or more). Donations help me keep this blog going and support my ongoing efforts to obtain a PhD.

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