Confession – I’m addicted to learning. My family used to joke that I’d become a permanent student, as after school I did a bachelor’s and a master’s degree, and then a postgraduate certificate in education before finally starting work. A few years later I decided it would be a good idea to learn more about how to run an organisation, as that’s what I’d ended up doing, so I did an MBA (a Master of Business Administration) with the Open University. The opportunity to apply business theories and strategies to my own organisation was fascinating and immensely helpful, and I still look back and revisit some of the material I covered then. At the back of my mind was the thought that the ultimate qualification was a PhD, a ‘Doctor of Philosophy,’ (which covers a wide range of disciplines, not just philosophy). But I also knew that you had to be really passionate about the subject matter, as it involves years of research and study, and I wasn’t sure what it was I’d want to focus on in so much depth.

Fast forward over a very busy few years of building an organisation, and transitioning Acorn from a private company into a charitable social enterprise, I was invited to give evidence to the Public Accounts Select Committee in the House of Commons, about the expansion of funded hours for early years. As part of my preparation for that, I read the research that the government had used as part of their policymaking, and to say that I was unimpressed is probably an understatement. I felt very strongly that the questionnaires in that research had been devised by someone with very little understanding of the sector, and I had had similar experiences when discussing funding with the local authority (I remember explaining that the calculations of how much we’d receive for funded two year olds for the year didn’t take into account the unfortunate fact that in the course of a year, all the two year olds would become three, and their funding rate would plummet!). I thought about doing some research on the problems of devising a more effective and ethical funding system, but then realised that a focus on funding would potentially be instantly irrelevant if a new government came in and changed the policy.

I decided instead that the issue I was really interested in was exploring what makes some nurseries more ethical than others. By ethical I mean putting the children’s needs first, rather than prioritising factors such as profit or operational efficiency. I meet every member of staff during their induction period, and I had been struck on several occasions when new team members, particularly those who had worked at nurseries in one of the large corporate chains, had answered my question about differences that they’d noticed at Acorn by saying “here, you put the children first.”  That begged the question of what that meant in practice. I had a suspicion that being not-for-profit enabled us to make decisions differently from for-profit providers, and I was intrigued to understand at what level decisions were made that had ethical implications – particularly at a time when as providers we were being encouraged by the government to treat hot meals and activities such as forest schools as ‘optional extras.’  Would it be company policy, the nursery manager or the practitioners who managed the dilemma of implementing funding policies which, in the words of the government’s own Education Committee, were ‘entrenching disadvantage.’

On researching where to undertake my doctorate, I was delighted when I was offered a place at Royal Holloway, University of London, not least because it was where I did my first degree (in English Literature) and I liked the idea of revisiting my alma mater, as I’d loved my time there. The beautiful Founders building hadn’t changed a bit, but everything else had, and it did feel very strange on my visits to be so much older than almost all the other students (and my supervisors). I undertook the study on a part-time basis (on top of a full-time job) so it was inevitably a long process, but I thoroughly enjoyed all the reading, which led me down many rabbit holes, as I found more and more things of interest. The practical research was even more fun, as I got to interview some very inspirational figures within the sector, some passionate nursery managers and practitioners, and some parents who had experienced different nurseries. Covid happened halfway through, but fortunately I was able to switch to online interviews, and I’d already completed a lot of visits to different organisations. Probably the hardest part of the doctoral journey was the analysis of my findings and finding and explaining a nugget of new theory (in my case a piece about embodied ethical sensemaking). 

I’m delighted to have finished, and apart from the fun of getting to wear a more colourful gown, and a funny floppy hat (a ‘bonnet’ apparently) I was able to share my graduation day with my four amazing children (one of whom is already a doctor – the proper sort, and one who will be completing their own doctorate early next year). The day was extra special, as Royal Holloway was where I met my children’s father when we were both undergraduates. Showing my children our old haunts was a bittersweet experience (Chris died in 2009) and although I find any graduation ceremony a bit of an ordeal of pomp and boredom, it was really lovely to mark the occasion with my children and my supervisors, and to celebrate the moment. I’m not sure I’ll use the ‘Dr’ title very much, and it’s unlikely that I’ll continue in Academia, but I’m already working on my next project, which is writing a book based on my research material!

 

Zoe Raven