PhD Perspectives 25/26

Can you give us a brief overview of your research and what inspired you to choose this topic? 

My research addresses ‘curriculum decolonisation’ in (Irish) universities. Decolonial theory interrogates and highlights how knowledge evaluation and (re)production is a product of historical processes bound up in colonial legacies – bound up in the erasures of voices and knowledges deemed ‘Other.’ Curriculum decolonisation seeks to re-centre marginalised voices and knowledge, to foster a plurality of perspectives and understandings. This work isn’t done easily, so how do universities, how do faculty members, actually engage with it in practice? This is my cue: all in with qualitative methods really.

I came to research in decolonial fields from a fascination with the sociology of knowledge – and frankly, from insecurities around knowledge evaluation questions. I was 28 when I first set foot in a university for strictly academic purposes, to study Anthropology. Up to that point, my life had been dedicated to the performing arts. Mobilising out of the arts wasn’t exactly easy, but I had always wanted to study. So after a lot of planning and luck, I got the chance. But I was insecure – major impostor syndrome – being an autodidact and a mature student. But if I just read all the right things, the set things, if I read the canon, then I’d be okay, right? If I had a chance to obtain the insanity that would be a paid PhD (imagine!), then if I had read certain thinkers, I would know that I knew what I needed to know. But see, the university of my studies was quite engaged in decolonial praxis; we questioned notions of canonicity. The critical engagement was fantastic. It made me question this need I felt to read certain thinkers. Yet I could feel the pressure, the power, of the ‘Western’ canon; the power of how we evaluate being knowledgeable. I saw it working on others; I felt it myself. It was critical engagement with knowledge evaluation processes – wanting to negotiate with them, dismantle them – that led me further into decolonial theory; led me to examine it empirically. And so here I am, giving that elusive PhD a go (no way, it happened!?), looking at exactly this. Just even more complicated and interesting because I’m doing so in Ireland, but let’s leave that for another time.

What has been the most surprising or interesting finding in your research so far? 

What continues to fascinate me is the vast array of ways in which curriculum decolonisation can be conceived; it’s both daunting and exciting. But the thing that I’m most absorbed (but perhaps no longer surprised) by is how much pedagogy matters for curriculum decolonisation; and how much the value placed on teaching matters. To engage in curriculum decolonisation, you have to care about teaching, and teaching has to be valued institutionally, structurally.

How do you think your research could impact the field of Sociology or society as a whole?

Given the ramble above, I’ll be brief here! Decolonial theory has the potential to radically disrupt and expand the field of Sociology, both in terms of teaching and research. My research specifically examines how curriculum decolonisation works (or struggles to work) in practice. So I hope it will help facilitate further decolonial work within universities by providing insights and recommendations for its practical, pedagogical implementation.

How do you think your research could impact the field of Sociology or society as a whole? 

I have fairly modest expectations for the broader impact of my work. My main hope is that it will be useful to the participants I interviewed, helping them make a bit more sense of their experiences (on these platforms, for instance) or at the very least that they find it interesting. If there is a wider contribution, it is to ongoing debates about what ‘skill’ is and how it relates to migration. My view is that what it means to be skilled is likely to change radically over the next fifty years: connections, relationships, and dispositions may matter more for where people end up in the labour market. That, in turn, will affect what it means to be a skilled migrant. I hope my work, in a small way, helps alert us to the implications of these shifts. I don’t really develop policy recommendations, but after four years of researching this my sense is that there may be diminishing returns in relentlessly ‘upskilling’ on the supply side. We also need to focus on whether there are meaningful ways for people to contribute on the demand side. 

What advice would you give to other students who are considering pursuing a PhD in Sociology? 

Doing a PhD isn’t easy; it can also be quite lonely, on an interpersonal and academic level. At least, I’ve felt so. So my advice? If you’re able, find a supervisor who aligns with your working style and has a similar epistemic worldview (e.g. if you’re into activist academia, hopefully your supervisor is too). I’ve found this matters more than specialisation/expertise. Finding ways to switch off also helps – socially and mentally. (It’s definitely helped this last year!) Maybe you have hobbies or maybe you like occasional shiftwork because, despite loving research and teaching, you crave the company of hospitality metalheads and a well-functioning glasswasher (not speaking from experience ofc). Lastly, it’s okay if it doesn’t always feel right. Four years is a long time to commit yourself to something. There will be ups and downs, and if you feel things aren’t right that’s okay to admit. Well I’ve had those moments anyway. But if it’s what you want, you can do it. Becoming an academic, engaging in academic inquiry, is very much about learning to trust yourself. And from a decolonial angle: trusting yourself while accepting the limitations of knowledge, because knowledge is best when it’s shared, discussed, expanded through dialogue. We can’t know everything, right?

May 2026