four note friday 2.14 | Reflections on the Photovoice Futures Podcast

I recently finished up creating a three-episode podcast nano-series featuring interviews with doctoral students using photovoice or photovoice-adjacent approaches within their dissertations. Being in dialogue with these folks was life-giving—and so hopeful. Our photovoice futures are bright.

If you are interested in checking out the series, I've uploaded all the episodes to YouTube and then embedded those videos onto the photovoice field notes website. I hope you'll have a listen sometime soon. Because I am simply testing out the podcast waters, and doing so on a budget, these episodes are not uploaded to a podcast hosting platform (think Apple Podcasts and Spotify). If at any point in the future I envision this podcast blooming into seven or more episodes, that may change.

In this week's post, I share four reflections on my first foray into podcasting. It was delightful because I got to combine so many things I love: photovoice, deep connections with folks, learning new skills, and daydreaming about the future.

Podcasting logistics run deep.

Creating a podcast requires a lot of planning and logistics. From the start, I knew the podcast would be focused on amplifying the work of others, especially doctoral students and others shaping the futures of photovoice. That is about all I knew.

Once I knew who I wanted to interview for this first nano-series, emails were sent, replies were received, days/times were set, Zoom links were shared, and questions were drafted and refined.

A medium-quality set of headphones and a decent microphone were a must to generate decent-sounding audio. Ahead of the first recording, I recorded intros. and outros. Then I found and downloaded theme music—all while learning about how and where to locate free and freely usable music. After the actual podcast recording, I stitched the audio files together using GarageBand, software I had to relearn after not using for ages. Then, all guests had the chance to pre-review the full audio file before I hit upload on YouTube. And, before I could hit upload on YouTube (and navigate copyright concerns), I had (wanted) to convert the audio into a video, which I did using Canva. Speaking of which, I used Canva to create a logo for the podcast.

From that point, the podcast (video) was uploaded to YouTube, embedded on this site, and shared (lightly) on social media (Instagram and LinkedIn). And now I am in a period of checking the YouTube analytics every once in awhile to get a sense of reach and listeners. I am also thinking about whether this venture will be continued. To be sure, I've loved every minute, and it has been no minor effort.

Technical skills are important to gain and hone.

Figuring out how to actually do all the technical work (however imperfectly) was fun and rewarding, especially after getting through the learning curve. Working with new(ish) hardware and software was frustrating and, eventually, empowering.

YouTube was my how-to go-to. So long as I could craft the search terms well, I could find a video showing me what to do next. Learning the technical skills was not hard, but it was not easy. Once I got the idea of how the software worked, the tasks were completed more fluidly.

While I know I have many, I do not think of myself as having a lot of technical skills. When I exercise the skills I do think have, having made something, physical or digital, is usually not the result. I write. I communicate orally. I teach, lead, advise, and mentor. Executing these skills does not often result in the creation of a thing.

This process was different. It felt different. Deploying these new skills resulted in a thing—several things. And that felt important and good. I really enjoyed gaining and honing a handful of new technical skills. And throughout the learning process, I gained confidence, momentum, and excitement.

Podcast interviewing is its own thing.

My experiences with interviewing have been in the domains of research, hiring, and admissions. Each one of these domains requires a different approach. And so does podcast interviewing.

During the actual podcast conversations, I had to coach-myself-in-action. Giving myself permission to contribute meaningfully to the conversation was not intuitive. While deep listening and facilitation were necessary, I had to see myself as a partner inside the dialogue. Podcast interviewing is not data collection. This framing became easier to embody over time, as each episode was recorded. As such, it makes sense that the last recording was the longest.

Asking questions I already knew the answer to was another interesting element of this work. Thinking ahead to the audience gave way to a specific kind of conversational framing. Assuming nothing about the audience's prior knowledge of the guest, which I already had, was vital.

Photovoice futures are fascinating.

As asserted above, our photovoice futures are bright. As I settle into the current season of my career, creating new knowledge is still important to me. There is more to do. Yet I know my work is just one brick within a solid foundation upon which others will build upon.

This podcast is a space for others to work on their bricks—taking on beautiful shapes, colors, sizes, textures, and materials not before dreamed of.

Not knowing what exactly the future holds for photovoice is a delight. But based on these few exchanges, the futures currently being crafted are fascinating.

Do you want more of this podcast? If yes, what would you like to hear more about? I would genuinely love to hear from you. Thanks for reading—and listening.

🥹 Thanks for spending a moment with me this Friday.
💌 If you’re new here, welcome! I hope this space becomes one you look forward to each week.

📬 Have a question you want me to answer in a future issue? Reach me at photovoicefieldnotes@gmail.com. I'd love to hear from you.

Thanks for being here.

Warmly,
Mandy
photovoice field notes
photovoicefieldnotes.com