I remember waking up early just after dawn on the 6th of October 2025, despite the fact that I slept a little late giving my work just that last bit of review because, well, it was my PhD viva. The day turned out sunny, highlighting the autumnal colours in full swing at the Open University’s Milton Keynes campus. The day that I anticipated for years with great excitement as well as dread. Will I do well, will I give justice to my labour of nearly a decade? Will I make my supervisors and my family proud? Will I finally be able to produce work of relevance and impact to society? Or will I fail, spectacularly? Years ago, when I began my PhD, having taken a break for a bit after completing my Master’s degree, I recall being told that there will be points in my research were I will feel like giving up, when the pressures of life and the demands of scholarship clash. I shook my head then – I taught then that why would I give up? This was one of my life’s aspirations – to obtain a doctorate degree in a field I am passionate about, to have my own relevant and unique contribution to knowledge and society. The years have proven to me that those thoughts were naïve, however certain I felt at the time. I came to realize that a PhD is a journey of deep commitment, requiring a well of motivation to get through the rough spots, especially in those long slogs of each stage were it almost felt like the end is not in sight, when tasks piled up, with increased difficulty. Life’s demands happened – bills to pay, moving for work and living, illnesses, family and relationships. Yet through it all, I held on, as every struggle to get to the next chapter, to find the patterns in the data, to deepen my knowledge of theory, method and the field I am investigating became indelible parts of my personal reality. It was part of my everyday, the joys and sorrows of this committed exercise in deep research and knowledge building became something more than a task – it was my calling.
In this journey, I could not have made the first step without my husband James’ support, who made great sacrifices so I have what I needed (I was self-funded), got to where I had to go, through long and short journeys in the UK, around Europe and Southeast Asia (the main site of my study). I also would not have had the door to my path opened if not for my PhD supervisors, Prof. Umut Erel and Prof. Parvati Raghuram, whose expertise, patience and wisdom became my foundation. Much later, Dr. Gunjan Sondhi became my third supervisor and her ability to decode the jumble of my thoughts got me through the last hurdles. My amazing participants welcomed me into their lives, letting my research share a part of their story that I have come to witness as both a participant and observer over the years. My friends and family who cheered me on, especially when things got difficult. Meanwhile, the Open University’s unique system of support allowed me to battle the demons of the ‘impostor syndrome’, as mentors, fellow PhD students, experts, academics and staff made their presence impactful in my journey through the many settings of interaction, from simple lectures, seminars, presentations and exchanges with many akin to a form of fellowship.
This support became essential to me, especially early this year when I was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. I was already in that period of near completeness – I have put together an ethnographic theory and digital method that emerged from my study, in a field that has not been widely explored, a delving of which might be relevant to today’s global reality. While I took some time as I started my treatment, in the near 3 months of being hospitalized, my PhD work gave me hope. It was one of the reasons I fought on, finding that strength to write my conclusion chapter on my hospital bed, negotiating with my nurses and doctors if I could have my cannula in my arm rather than my wrists, so I can work. I prayed to wake up with enough strength every day to do a little bit of work, to fight my cancer and to complete my dissertation so I can submit, so I can have my viva. If my life is to potentially be cut short due to my illness, at the very least I wanted to complete my PhD, to publish my contribution to knowledge. As I wrote on, I witnessed small miracles – my nurses and doctors at Kettering General Hospital did their best to support my efforts, making sure I had that quiet space in a corner room so I can work, and encouraging me when they are on their rounds, or visiting when they are close by. The Filipina nurses became quite committed to my efforts, bringing food and comfort items that brought me and James joy. Kindness overflowed and my PhD’s completion became a shared aspiration.
When I pressed that button for submission, my body felt lighter, a kind of relief. Finally, it’s done. Of course, I was never 100% sure about the version that I submitted – that’s just me, always seeing areas I possibly have missed. Who wouldn’t want a perfect dissertation to present to the world? Perhaps perfection can be achieved. However, with my limited energy and resources (I am still undergoing treatment), I did the best I could and my supervisors, bless them, believed in my work and in me. For me, that was enough. And on that beautiful, sunny autumn day, my wonderful supervisors all came. There they were – the 4 pillars who supported me in this journey sat around a table at ‘The Hub’ – the Open University’s gathering place in the Milton Keynes campus. My heart was filling up as I couldn’t believe my eyes – my supervisors and my husband, all there to support me in my viva. We had a last-minute talk as they, in their unique and incredible ways of being my guides in this journey, shared nuggets of wisdom. And while I started the morning incredibly nervous, I walked into my examination room confidently and ready to savor the chance to defend my work, to present what I am offering as my contribution to knowledge. Prof. Raghuram, who insists I call her Parvati (it is hard for me, growing up in the Philippines, we show our respect to our teachers and mentors by using their title) told me before I entered the room, to enjoy the moment. She said that aside from my supervisors, my examiners were the other 2 people who have come to read my work deeply. The questions they will ask will give me the chance to showcase my work and the expertise I have acquired in my PhD journey. Prof. Erel – Umut, my graceful and supportive source of academic comfort was sat in the room with me as my observer. I wanted to do well for everyone, but above all for me.
Left to Right: Dr. Vickie Cooper (Exam Panel Chair), Dr. Gunjan Sondhi (PhD Supervisor), Prof. Umut Erel (Lead PhD Supervisor), Myself, Prof. Parvati Raghuram (PhD Supervisor), Prof. Sophie Watkins (Examiner) and Dr. Rachel Humphris (Examiner)
Parvati was right; as the nerves ebbed, I came to relish the chance to talk about my work, to answer the questions. I of course was aware of the limitations of my examination – the time allocated for the answers, the essentiality of being concise but also detailed, coming to the exam with a well of knowledge adjacent to, or in support of my main research. Oh, were my supervisors ever right to send over those books, articles and studies to me over the years – the work of theorists and researchers whose body of knowledge became support and inspiration in my effort to build a robust work of my own. They came to prominence in my examination as I compared, affirmed, extended and explained my work with that of authors already established in the field. My examiners - experts in their field, asked me amazing questions and I am so thankful that they took part in my exam panel. Their questions were comprehensive, thought-provoking, analytical, technical and razor sharp. In my examination, I feel that I proved not just to my examiners but most especially to myself a deep understanding of my work and the gap I am addressing as I aimed over the years to be able to do this and know it like it was the back of my hand. After my examiners conferred and called Umut and I back in (we had to leave the room briefly after the exam), they told me that I ‘passed with minor corrections’. Quite minor and easily rectified. My examiners, my supervisors and James were all there in the room, celebrating my work, as we talked about different aspects of it. I felt the excitement over what I am contributing, as my supervisors opened the bubbly to toast my success. I thought, could it get better than this?
It’s been a couple of weeks since my exam, and every day I still cannot believe it happened. I am still undergoing treatment for my stage 4 cancer but I have an extra spring in my step as when I come for my hospital appointments, I can confirm to my doctors and nurses who have come to support me that I succeeded, and that their help made a huge contribution to making that happen. I feel grateful, encouraged and excited about what can become of my work. In a separate blog I will share my research, as I feel that talking about the journey and the people who took part in it should be my focus on this narrative – it is my way of recalling and celebrating the ups and downs, its entirety.
To everyone, I am grateful. I am a deeply faithful person having grown up in a spiritual Filipino family and I believe that the people I have met at different stages of this journey have been sent to help me achieve this dream. Thank you so much everyone – this achievement is not just mine. I wouldn’t be here without your presence and support in my journey. Maraming, maraming salamat po sa inyong lahat.
Sincerely,
Xenia