Tuesday 16 March 2021

To Alan

In memory of Alan Armstrong

 

Missing you, Alan.

Pioneer. Working class man who made good. Risk taker. Actor. Game to try anything.  

The gift of baseball caps with logos, so we both knew which hat I was wearing when we talked.
The resilience.
The quiet strength.
The solid, thoughtful man.
The sideways look which I knew meant he had seen something I hadn’t.
The silence unless he knew you’d listen, but then the wisdom when you did.
The mad-cap workshop ideas. Alan and the party blowers, charades and jargon busters.

The actor, the willingness to put parts of his life in the public domain while keeping a private self.

His patience with me when I talked over him. My growing respect for his intellectual ability.


Alan the PhD supervisor. It was Alan who suggested asking how people feel when consulted. In the university, we hadn’t thought of that. It was the research’s missing piece.
Alan the co-author.
Alan the idea co-generator - your space, my space, shared space; side by side coproduction.
Alan the trainer of doctoral students and early career researchers
Alan who went from outsider to rubbing shoulders comfortably with professors and students alike. I think Oxford was the turning point. You saw yourself through other eyes, and you saw what others had. And you wanted it. You quietly and doggedly worked for it.
Alan who wanted his next career move to be blazing a trail into academia.


Alan, I wish it was you doing this, submitting a thesis for doctoral examination.
But you knew that me doing this would open more doors for you. You trusted I’d use any extra authority and power in the way I always do - to create space and wedge doors open with your steadying and grounding support and encouragement. Together, we would take on the world. We were both stronger together, and I feel your loss deeply.


We can’t continue this academic journey together now. You’ve left me to carry on alone. And I don’t know anyone quite like you. 
But one day there will be another 'Alan', and I’ll try to be ready for them so we can both stand on your giant shoulders and take on the world from where you left off.