Dr Elham Amini, Lecturer in Sociology, Social Policy and Criminology, talks about her research and how listening, to what's said as well as what isn't, shapes her work as an Early Career Researcher (ECR).
For many of us working in universities, belonging is rarely a fixed destination. It shifts across institutions, disciplines, projects and life stages. As early career researchers (ECRs), we often find ourselves navigating uncertainty while establishing our research identities, building collaborations and balancing multiple responsibilities. We move between confidence and self-doubt, visibility and invisibility, independence and support. In doing so, we continually ask where, and how, we belong.
Who is heard, and who isn't?
My own research journey has been shaped by a simple but persistent question: whose experiences are heard, and whose experiences remain silent?
This question first emerged during my career as a midwife. Working closely with women and families allowed me to witness how health experiences are shaped not only by biology but also by culture, relationships, social expectations and inequality. I became increasingly aware that some voices were heard more readily than others, while many experiences remained overlooked within healthcare, research and policy discussions.
These observations eventually led me into sociology and academia and continue to shape my work today. For more than a decade, my research has focused on women's health, ageing, emotions and inequality. In particular, I have explored experiences of menopause among women whose voices have often been absent from research and healthcare conversations. Women from global south or minority ethnic communities and women living at the intersections of gender, race, age and culture frequently encounter healthcare systems that do not fully recognise their experiences. Their stories may be misunderstood, marginalised or simply overlooked.
As researchers, we often speak about “giving voice” to marginalised groups. Yet I have increasingly come to believe that people already possess their own voices, knowledge and expertise. Our role is not to give voice, but to create opportunities for those voices to be heard, valued and taken seriously. Menopause provides a particularly powerful example of why these matters. Although menopause has become increasingly visible within public and policy debates, the attention is mostly from biological perspective. Experiences of menopause are shaped by culture, religion, migration, race, class and family relationships. What menopause means in one context may differ significantly in another.
My research with Iranian Muslim women highlighted this complexity. Participants described menopause not simply as a biological transition but as an emotional, social and cultural experience shaped by family expectations, gender norms and healthcare encounters. Similar themes continue to emerge in my current work with ethnically diverse communities in Merseyside.
Listening to these experiences has taught me that silence is rarely empty. Silence can reflect stigma, exclusion, institutional barriers or the absence of safe spaces for discussion. Understanding these silences requires us to think carefully about how we conduct research and whose perspectives are included.
This is one reason why I have become increasingly interested in biographical research and photovoice. Inviting participants to share stories or create images allows experiences to emerge in ways that traditional interviews sometimes cannot capture. Photographs can communicate emotions, memories and embodied experiences that are difficult to put into words.
When women create images representing menopause, ageing or health, they often reveal aspects of their lives that remain invisible within healthcare systems and public debates. These conversations become more than data collection; they create opportunities for reflection, connection and mutual learning. They remind us that research is fundamentally relational. This understanding has also influenced how I think about being an ECR.
The importance of ECR networks
Academic life often celebrates individual achievements such as publications, grants and promotions. While these are important, they tell only part of the story. Behind every research project is a network of participants, collaborators, mentors, students and colleagues who contribute to the production of knowledge.
As ECRs, we are often encouraged to demonstrate independence, yet much of our success depends on relationships. The collaborations we build, the communities we join and the support we receive can shape not only our careers but also our sense of belonging within academia. This is why ECR networks matter.
In a sector often characterised by uncertainty and increasing pressures, ECR networks provide opportunities to connect with others who understand the challenges of this career stage. They create spaces to exchange ideas, seek advice, develop collaborations and celebrate achievements. Equally importantly, they remind us that we are not navigating academic life alone.
For researchers working across disciplines, as I do in sociology, health and ageing, these networks can be particularly valuable. Interdisciplinary work often involves moving between different academic communities and ways of thinking. While this can sometimes feel challenging, it can also be intellectually enriching. ECR networks offer a space where diverse perspectives are welcomed and where new collaborations can emerge.
Teaching has also played a significant role in shaping my academic identity. Research and teaching are often discussed as separate activities, yet I have always experienced them as deeply interconnected. Research informs my teaching, while students encourage me to question assumptions and see familiar topics from new perspectives. One of the most rewarding aspects of academic life is seeing students develop confidence in their own ideas and recognise the value of their voices. In many ways, this reflects the same commitment that underpins my research: creating opportunities for people to be heard.
The role of care in academia
Over recent years, I have become increasingly aware of another important aspect of academic life: care. Academic careers are often discussed in terms of productivity and achievement, yet they are also shaped by caring responsibilities, health, personal circumstances and relationships. These experiences frequently remain invisible despite their profound impact on how we work and what we value.
Perhaps this is why I increasingly think about research as an act of listening. Listening to participants, students, colleagues and communities. Listening creates opportunities for understanding, connection and change.
For me, belonging in academia has not come from finding a single place where I perfectly fit. Rather, it has emerged through relationships, collaborations and shared values. It is found in conversations with participants, partnerships with colleagues, interactions with students and communities such as this ECR Network.
As early career researchers, we may not always have certainty about where our careers will lead. But by supporting one another, sharing our experiences and creating spaces where diverse voices can be heard, we help build a more inclusive and connected academic community.
For me, that remains at the heart of both my research and my experience as an ECR: listening carefully, creating opportunities for others to be heard and finding belonging through connection with others.