Image description: Capa on assignment in Spain, using a Filmo 16 mm movie camera, photographed by Gerda Taro. Attribution: By Gerda Taro , Public Domain,

Laura Comincini (@lauracomincini) is a third year PhD student in Economics, and the Secretary of PhD Society (@uofgphdsociety).

When I was a teenager, I came across the work of Robert Capa: war photographer and photojournalist, co-founder of Magnum Photos. A man who found a meaning so deep in his work that he risked and lost his life for it. I admired him, and in my admiration I considered following his footsteps. But very quickly I had to ask myself: will I be able to cope with the immense stress and heartbreak that comes with it? Or will it break me? I was scared and I chose a different path, one that led me to becoming a political economist, a researcher, a feminist killjoy.

Then, this pandemic happened. I thought it would paralyse me in fear. I found it doesn’t: my fear fuels me. I had all this confusion and all this pain sitting in my chest, real and heavy like a stone: confusion and pain that as a teenager I thought were going to shut me down. Instead I decided to use PhD society (of which I am honoured to be Secretary) to have an impact: I was going to help people. I became an activist.

My recent activism has taught me three lessons that I thought I’d share with you all:

1.     This is a new side of yourself: explore and accept it. Some of us are struggling with tasks that had previously always been no-brainers. Some of us are finding out they are capable of more than they thought. Most of us are experiencing both. And that’s fine. We’ve all been thrown into a new reality, so it is only right that we take time to find out (without prejudice) who we are in this new world.

2.     You must offer help, never impose it. Someone wise told me that people sometimes insist on helping you to feel better about themselves. Sure, there’s worse coping mechanisms… but if you want to have a genuine impact the key is not to knock on everyone’s door, but rather to sit in the middle of a square and let everyone know you are going to be there for a while.

3.     Show compassion. This I struggle with: it is all too easy to get upset at those who don’t follow social distancing, and to judge those who are being selfish. However, we can’t quickly brand people “irresponsible” and then fail to ask why. And since we cannot ask everyone why, let’s agree to show them some compassion.

Well, in all honesty, I have learnt a fourth lesson: my research work matters, even thought it may not feel like it right now. Just like Danielle Fatzinger did in her post I am having to ask myself why I am doing a PhD in the first place. Here I’ve realised a few things: my work is important but it is not urgent, so if my mind is too foggy then I can just put it all aside for a bit without guilt. I do something else so I can harvest energy to bring back to my research later. Another thing I’ve realised: I know why, and telling myself that my reason why is irrelevant in the face of a pandemic is useless and, frankly, a bit toxic. A better question is: how can I use my skills now?

If I had to summon some wisdom for my final words, I’d say something obvious like: be there for each other, because in times like these we need communities. Together, we stand. Together, we mourn. Together, we grow.