There are two dimensions to this inventory:
You will provide a résumé of your current projects (those recently completed, those still incomplete and fragmentary, and perhaps even plans for future projects). Provide titles and brief summaries together with their status--what stage is each project in currently?
Following your list of current projects, you will provide a substantial reflection on your customary way of seeing/listening/projecting regarding research and writing. This reflection should be at least 900 words, or 3-5 pages double spaced, shared as a Google Doc in the proper folder.
Questions to answer in your reflection:
What is research and how is it related to writing for you?
What is your "already always listening" regarding conducting research and writing?
In what ways does this way(s) of seeing/listening/projecting concerning research and writing empower you? In what ways does it disempower you?
Has any act of research transformed you, that is, through encountering something beyond what you already knew, you revised (and have then "re-written") your understanding of yourself, of others, of the world? If not, what might that say about your rhetorical stance regarding research?
As the common root of the words "invention" and "inventory," to "invent" means to "come into," "find out," "discover." Consequently, an "inventory" is what we have after we have invented. To be a bit more honest, however, the inventories we possess more often than not come from others. Our culture, society, institutions, family (and the customary practices embedded within all these) have bequeathed to us our current inventory. And the degree to which we do not acknowledge this inheritance and our relationship to it--to that degree our creativity is impacted, wherein we often repeat what we already and always know, rather than create something history-making.
In any case, then, an inventory is what is already and always there, and our relationship to this inventory is that it is there waiting to be deployed toward those aims we are most concerned with. It helps us to accomplish what we aim to accomplish, but there are always limits and struggles along the way. As we will discover as we proceed, this dynamic is governed by the relationship between integrity to the same (the inventory derived from the past) and receptivity to the different.
And so, you might be asking at this moment: "What kinds of things might I find in this so-called inventory?" and "How does my current inventory limit and constrain me?"
My answer is that you will not just be finding "things," per se. Rather, you will be looking out for your customary ways of seeing things, customary ways of seeing the world, customary ways of seeing your self (what we will call your "already always listening" or "already always controlling topics").
These ways of seeing, or listening (or projecting, as Jane Gallop might word it) give us not only who we are, the world, and things, but it also gives us the range of actions we might take and our ways of being (roles we play) in the world.
So, in this inventory, I invite you to explore what these ways of seeing/listening/projecting are, especially concerning your current understanding of research:
how might these ways of seeing/listening/projecting have formed? What happened and what did you decide about yourself and about yourself as a researcher/writer?
what do these ways of seeing/listening/projecting grant you (in terms of giving you some power to accomplish what you are up to)?
how do these ways of seeing limit or stop you in your project(s)?
A way into this inquiry is to ask: What projects are we already up to? What are the plans we have been pursuing and how have those plans worked out up to this point? That is, what have we accomplished, and what have we intended to accomplish but have yet to make happen? What is in the way?
The aim here is to begin to wean yourself of relying too heavily on an existing inventory of ways of seeing/listening/projecting. Yes, we should take stock; but what might be possible for us to be engaged with inventing beyond what we already have in our inventory?
It is paramount to acknowledge the status of our inventory of ways of seeing/listening/projecting; doing so reveals our limits, which awareness then goads us toward inventing anew. That is the purpose of this first assignment: to get a glimpse of what you don't already know, the knowing of which might allow you to invent new ways of seeing/listening/projecting.
Composing this inventory will allow you to evaluate what you bring to light in the process, which in turn will permit you to begin the process of taking ownership (authorship) of your project, and to bring some critical reflection to it. The illumination that follows will, ideally, direct you toward taking specific actions that will involve research in a variety of ways.
Background Discussion
It is imperative for you to locate the limits you are confronting in your current project or projects. The critical awareness of that which you ordinarily do not see--not to mention what it takes to gain access to that awareness--promises to open the door for your project to unfold and develop as you enter a new adventure of research, allowing an inquiry to open up new doors for you. In other words:
We cannot invent until we are clear about what we already and always have as "inventory."
For instance, you already have an understanding of research formed in response to moments in your educational experience. Something happened in your past, which left you with a certain significance concerning what it means to research. For many, that understanding was (and may still be) limited to merely collecting and commenting on what others (various experts of one kind or another) have said in order to fulfill some assignment for a teacher.
In Core II you will challenge this and other commonplace understandings you have inherited, and invent new possibilities for yourself as a researcher and writer--and consequently complicate and expand your inventory.
“A human being lives out not only his personal life as an individual, but also, consciously or subconsciously, the lives of his epoch and contemporaries; and although he may regard the general and impersonal foundations of his existence as unequivocal givens and take them for granted, having as little intention of ever subjecting them to critique…, it is nevertheless quite possible that he senses his own moral well-being to be somehow impaired by the lack of critique.” Thomas Mann, The Magic Mountain 31