title: Effect of Nb and Sn on the transformation of α-Ti to β-Ti in Ti-35 Nb−2.5Sn nanostructure alloys using mechanical alloying

authors: Omran, A.M.

subjects: biomedical materials

abstract: This study was conducted to observe the phase transformation of Ti-35 %Nb-2.5 %Sn during milling for various milling times using a mixing machine and a high-energy ball milling machine (HEBM). In this work, niobium was chosen as the β stabilizer and tin as the reducer of the elastic modulus. The starting materials were blended and milled in a mixing machine (24 h) and a high-energy ball mill machine (1 h, 4 h, and 12 h). The particle sizes and phases of the produced powders were analyzed using XRD, SEM, TEM, and PSD; the titanium was found to be fully transformed from the α phase to Ti the β phase Ti after 12 h of milling.

text: Effect of Nb and Sn on the transformation of α-Ti to β-Ti in Ti-35 Nb−2.5Sn nanostructure alloys using mechanical alloying This study was conducted to observe the phase transformation of Ti-35 %Nb-2.5 %Sn during milling for various milling times using a mixing machine and a high-energy ball milling machine (HEBM). In this work, niobium was chosen as the β stabilizer and tin as the reducer of the elastic modulus. The starting materials were blended and milled in a mixing machine (24 h) and a high-energy ball mill machine (1 h, 4 h, and 12 h). The particle sizes and phases of the produced powders were analyzed using XRD, SEM, TEM, and PSD; the titanium was found to be fully transformed from the α phase to Ti the β phase Ti after 12 h of milling.

year: 2008

title: A dead ordinary woman

authors: Pears, Kim Susan

subjects: Women

abstract: Muriel Murdoch died in 1961 yet she asked  – bullied me more like – into telling her story. ‘Write it all down – all of it,’ she insisted from her an unmarked Essex grave that Mum never let me visit. She was furious to be dead at thirty-five, and wanted me to be her voice. I was reluctant. And curious.  
The veil between us lifted as Muriel shared her childhood losses, and her adult struggles with 1940s Essex as the backdrop. Muriel’s tales mirror, dovetail, and blend with mine. My doubts morph into enthusiasm; irritations settle and across time and space, a loving, playful connection forges between us.

The story needed to be told because Muriel said it did. She was a dead ordinary woman with a life cut short, yet she represented women labelled in 1940s Britain not just as difficult: but as ‘good-time girls’ and ‘home wreckers.’ She was hot-headed, loving, resilient, and principled: she thought that war was stupid; and was unafraid to call out the misogyny of some opinionated men in the chip shop queue: ‘Got herself pregnant? Never heard of that before. You’d better ring the papers.’ 
	I was influenced by Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum, whose protagonist starts her narrative from inside her mother’s womb, providing a poignant, witty story of her unfolding life using the omnipresent point of view. Alice Sebold’s Lovely Bones helped me to think about writing about the impact of loss from beyond the grave, and Doireann Ni Ghroifa’s  A Ghost in the Throat gave me a taste of a piece where the author included herself in her journey of researching and writing about a long-dead poet, doubting herself at times. This story was also about a woman who had been forgotten and overlooked.
	The story needed to be told for the adventure of the telling. In its writing, I trusted myself, the process, and the connection with my ancestor. Each day I sat at my desk with the loosest of plans listening to Muriel and putting her words to the page. The more I committed the more the stories came. Why her? Why this? Why now? I agree with Gurprakash, the Dutch, guitar-strumming yogi when he says, ‘The meaning is the experience.’
	Lastly, it needed to be told for my own growth. Writing as Muriel with her flaws and foibles has helped me to accept, love, and even revere, my ordinary self. To accept oneself fully, as Matt Haig writes in The Midnight Library ‘like the way you accept nature, a glacier or a puffin or the breach of a whale. And in so doing you find freedom.’ 
Above all, I wrote this because I wanted people to feel for Muriel, to feel for me, and for themselves.  To feel with compassion. And, as Matt Haig says: ‘Just to say your own truth out loud, is enough to find others like you.’

text: A dead ordinary woman Muriel Murdoch died in 1961 yet she asked  – bullied me more like – into telling her story. ‘Write it all down – all of it,’ she insisted from her an unmarked Essex grave that Mum never let me visit. She was furious to be dead at thirty-five, and wanted me to be her voice. I was reluctant. And curious.  
The veil between us lifted as Muriel shared her childhood losses, and her adult struggles with 1940s Essex as the backdrop. Muriel’s tales mirror, dovetail, and blend with mine. My doubts morph into enthusiasm; irritations settle and across time and space, a loving, playful connection forges between us.

The story needed to be told because Muriel said it did. She was a dead ordinary woman with a life cut short, yet she represented women labelled in 1940s Britain not just as difficult: but as ‘good-time girls’ and ‘home wreckers.’ She was hot-headed, loving, resilient, and principled: she thought that war was stupid; and was unafraid to call out the misogyny of some opinionated men in the chip shop queue: ‘Got herself pregnant? Never heard of that before. You’d better ring the papers.’ 
	I was influenced by Kate Atkinson’s Behind the Scenes at the Museum, whose protagonist starts her narrative from inside her mother’s womb, providing a poignant, witty story of her unfolding life using the omnipresent point of view. Alice Sebold’s Lovely Bones helped me to think about writing about the impact of loss from beyond the grave, and Doireann Ni Ghroifa’s  A Ghost in the Throat gave me a taste of a piece where the author included herself in her journey of researching and writing about a long-dead poet, doubting herself at times. This story was also about a woman who had been forgotten and overlooked.
	The story needed to be told for the adventure of the telling. In its writing, I trusted myself, the process, and the connection with my ancestor. Each day I sat at my desk with the loosest of plans listening to Muriel and putting her words to the page. The more I committed the more the stories came. Why her? Why this? Why now? I agree with Gurprakash, the Dutch, guitar-strumming yogi when he says, ‘The meaning is the experience.’
	Lastly, it needed to be told for my own growth. Writing as Muriel with her flaws and foibles has helped me to accept, love, and even revere, my ordinary self. To accept oneself fully, as Matt Haig writes in The Midnight Library ‘like the way you accept nature, a glacier or a puffin or the breach of a whale. And in so doing you find freedom.’ 
Above all, I wrote this because I wanted people to feel for Muriel, to feel for me, and for themselves.  To feel with compassion. And, as Matt Haig says: ‘Just to say your own truth out loud, is enough to find others like you.’

year: 2022

title: Enabling conditions for professional development of te reo Māori teachers

authors: Franken, Margaret

subjects: Māori language teachers

abstract: The paper outlines a professional development programme for secondary school teachers of te reo Māori (under the auspices of Te Hiringa i te Mahara) conducted by a language teacher educator and an expert in Māori bilingualism and biliteracy. While the principles underpinning the programme reflect a strong task-based
orientation, the programme approached development needs for the teachers from the point of view of understanding “enabling conditions” (Franken, Rau, Ngata & Parata, n.d.) for effective language learning and teaching (see also Ellis, 2005),
rather than understanding task based learning and teaching per se. The programme drew on the current practices of the teachers and made use of epistemology of Māori language and Māori language learning. The paper presents observations from monitoring data collected during the programme supporting the claim that such an approach to the professional development of language teachers promotes a strong knowledge base and pedagogical reasoning skills (Richards, 1998), and in particular for te reo Māori teachers, fosters a sense of their own professional identity.

text: Enabling conditions for professional development of te reo Māori teachers The paper outlines a professional development programme for secondary school teachers of te reo Māori (under the auspices of Te Hiringa i te Mahara) conducted by a language teacher educator and an expert in Māori bilingualism and biliteracy. While the principles underpinning the programme reflect a strong task-based
orientation, the programme approached development needs for the teachers from the point of view of understanding “enabling conditions” (Franken, Rau, Ngata & Parata, n.d.) for effective language learning and teaching (see also Ellis, 2005),
rather than understanding task based learning and teaching per se. The programme drew on the current practices of the teachers and made use of epistemology of Māori language and Māori language learning. The paper presents observations from monitoring data collected during the programme supporting the claim that such an approach to the professional development of language teachers promotes a strong knowledge base and pedagogical reasoning skills (Richards, 1998), and in particular for te reo Māori teachers, fosters a sense of their own professional identity.

year: 2009