Research Recruitment: Not as Easy as it Looks

Maybe they're shy? Maybe they've been hit too many times by companies promising 'research' but actually pushing a pyramid scheme or an expensive sign-up? Maybe it's just the local area -perhaps Nigella Lawson is just a bit too 'out there' for Lithgovians?

The musings of a researcher trying to recruit Focus Group participants.

Either way, With data-collection beginning on Thursday, I only have 1/3 of my places filled for a free meal, a focus group chat, and a sweet treat to take home. This is slightly problematic. You see, especially with qualitative research, a significant study sample is pretty necessary. It's not that the opinions of the 25 people I have aren't valuable and insightful -they will be, but the analysed results will not be broadly (or even narrowly) applicable to the study-population. This means that (a) The results will have some problems passing peer-review, and (b) the questions I am asking (that I believe are extremely pertinent to health, nutrition and science communication) will be lost in the shifting sands of knowledge.

By the way, it's not just me asking these questions. When we (scientists) choose a topic for study, we do a fairly soul-destroying thing called a 'Literature review'. For those that have lived their lives without doing one: (a) lucky you!, (b) this innocently-named gauntlet means you read thousands of published papers in your field. You follow everything that is currently known, every spin-off study, every 'further research' suggestion. You hop across disciplines like an insane frog. You find 'gaps' in Nutrition, Sociology, Neuropsychiatry, media studies, biochemistry, physiology, microbiology, genetics, epigenetics, Psychology, Art, Literature studies, and many many more. Like a studious arachnid, you gather threads and follow them. You weave a story from the silks of all the others -rejecting some, connecting others. Eventually (after your brain leaks out your ears...again), you settle on a question that needs an answer. You are also now (apparently) some kind of amphibian/arachnid hybrid...but anyway, anyway...

 That's just the beginning.

Your question may be quite good. In fact, it may be very good. However, you don't get to decide this. Instead, you will approach numerous professors in trembling anticipation with your little question. You'll hand it over in absolute terror, because it is they that will decide whether your question is one that the world/the university supports. It's not awfully different even outside the post-graduate realms. Your question, your thoughts, your enquiry will always be judged as meritorious or not -by funding bodies, by your employer, or by Industry requirements.

So, I did that...and they approved! Yes, I had a few glasses of bubbly that evening :-)

Then, there's another wee gauntlet...ETHICS. You see, unfortunately -Nutrition studies often involve humans. Well, they do for me. I just can't bring myself to decapitate/eviscerate mice on a regular basis in vague hopes that the murine model suddenly becomes applicable to humans...even for a sensational headline. Humans are complicated. In order to study them, you have to assure people (the ethics committee) that you aren't going to do anything to upset them, hurt them, cause lasting (or momentary) psychological damage, or y'know -accidentally kill them. So you devise yet another document and research methodology that ensures absolutely that your research will be as pleasant to participants as a relaxing stroll on a perfect beach in Ibiza (without the obvious hazards of possible drowning/sharp bits in sand/sun-damage/flying sharks/sand-flies/tsunamis/wind-storms...you get the idea). Look, I'm being flippant, but one doesn't have to go too far back into Scientific history to see why this is a pretty important step...Tuskagee Syphilis trials anyone?

Anyway anyway, -the ethics committee (miraculously) approves. It turns out that serving people dinner and talking to them is an acceptable risk. Thank goodness. I had been worried about the evening dinner with my family for decades...

You are elated. You set about doing your research. You print posters, saturate social media, initiate GoFundMe campaigns so you can afford to feed 60 people, rally local sponsorship deals, wangle venues. It's all very industrious and energetic. Then, on a quiet sunday of 'the week' it all begins, you check your booking sheets. Big gaps. BIG BIG BIGGITY BIG gaps. The trouble is, we're out of money and out of time now. It's literally in the 'hands of the gods'.

So, if I'm just a little 'twitchy' for the next 3 weeks you'll understand why. All that work, all that energy...and it's entirely possible that the story will just unravel and float away regardless.

Community gardeners: Passionate? Delusional? Both?

Today we started a community garden on a neglected 'brownfields' site. The Portland Cement Works literally built Sydney. Once, this was a thriving industrial community. Sure, it was constantly blanketed in a cloud of cement-dust, and subsequent generations are still showing up to hospital with respiratory diseases that smash state averages to smithereens, but hey -this is a familiar story in many regional industrial centres. Coal mining, electrical power-plants, cement works...no one bothers about it too much. There's a pride in industry and survival. Not any great wonder that this is a set-in-stone Nationals seat.

However, things are inching towards change. As Sydney and the Greater West become increasingly impossible to afford, the population is shifting -socially, economically and even politically. Most encouraging of all, dying communities that have been left adrift after industry closure are still fighting towards growth. This isn't idealism, it's survival. The suicide rate in Lithgow is obscene. Hopelessness is constantly tempered by social movements like "It's not weak to speak", and "Walk and talk". People are trying to connect, to solve, to grow.

I don't even pretend to have comprehensive answers here. I'm a Nutrition scientist, a foodie and a gardener. My part in helping is to use my knowledge to make a difference, any difference.

So, we're starting to breathe life into a skeletal monolith of industry-past. I know of no better way than planting a garden. 

A garden IS life. It's building soil back to fertility, it's planting and saving seeds in hope of a better future. It's beauty, work, science, inspiration, joy and community. A depressed patch of earth is as wonderful as a foster-child, or a large charitable donation to me. It's crying out for nurture -something so many of us can understand.

This is our little plot. 185 sq metres or so. The soil is...not. It's dust. It grows couch and hardy weeds, and is thickly matted. trust me, I tried to sink a mattock into it today and it said "Sod off!" in no uncertain terms. This is land that has been used until it's bleeding, and it's not coming back to softness without a fight.

This is my version of showing Cinderella her dress for the ball. Right now she's scoffing heartily. 'Not wearing that..NO WAY!'. She's pretty steely in her resolve. So, we're trying a gentler approach: 'It's too much. I get it...but maybe just these ear-rings?'. She harrumphs. Not pleased.

We adorn her anyway. We hope she'll get used to them...even like them eventually. This weekend, we'll try even more beautiful ones -made of hardwood sleepers and the richest soil. Perhaps with heirloom pumpkins sprawling over her parched body gently she'll give a little...just a little. Perhaps with regular water she'll yield...just a bit.

We're only here to help, but like all wounded things -the land is likely to give us a few swipes and scars before she trusts us enough. It's a gentle team of gardeners. No -one's going to attack her with gouging machines, or demand that she 'put out' before she's ready. We'll wait, and tickle. We're hoping that one day she remembers how wonderful it once was to be soft and fertile. We're hoping she'll forgive us for past wrongs.

In our tiny corner of a vast, wounded body, we're hoping to show her (and us as a community) that we can heal and thrive. Small steps.