| I
have been struggling with a dilemma recently as I attempt to come to a
greater understanding of the complex role of the researcher in studies
which involve interviewing participants. It is essential to continue the
discussion in areas of research where we have made some progress, such
as acknowledging that the researcher brings bias to the study, so that
we do not stop questioning our assumptions and understandings about what
is ethical research, and what makes it so.
My
interest in language education has led me to wonder not only about how
people learn languages but also why. Why is it that some people in some
circumstances are able to learn two or more languages and remain fluent
all or most of their lives while others, in the same circumstances do
not? What is it about our interaction with language that influences
what we do? More specifically, why I have become interested in language
learning in bilingual families, and what it is that parents believe
and understand about language that influences how they will interact
linguistically with their young children.
It
occurred to me early on that an interesting way to research this area
would be to talk with bilingual parents about their own experiences
with language and how these affected what they understood and came to
believe about language learning and bilingualism. I was very encouraged
by the fact that I was regularly conversing with parents about children
and language on an informal basis as they approached me in the park,
the school, the library, with stories to tell about languages in the
family. One example follows:
At
the Swimming Pool
I
am sitting at the edge of an outdoor swimming pool with my four-year-old
daughter, hearing the shouts and cries and splashes of children in
the pool, including my older daughter, and enjoying the warm sun on
my face. We are leaning against a chain link fence which separates
the pool from the rest of a small park. A woman pushing a stroller
approaches, and stops to share the sight of the children leaping into
the bright blue water with her child. Before long my daughter and
the baby are gurgling and cooing at each other while poking their
fingers through the fence. The woman and I begin to chat, and she
immediately picks up on the fact that I speak French with my daughter
as I warn her to be gentle with the baby. Before long the woman is
telling me her story of how she is concerned about which languages
to teach to her child because her husband is Lebanese and speaks Arabic
and French, and she herself is from Ontario and speaks only English.
I explain my circumstances, she expands on hers, I offer some suggestions,
she describes what she has learned from a book. Soon the swimming
lesson is over, and I turn to wrap my shivering child in a towel while
my younger daughter waves good bye. The next day we are back in our
places because the lessons take place every day. I hear someone calling
and turn to see the same woman approaching. "I just had to come back,
" she says, "There is so much more to say."
It
appears that there is a great need for information, but not just on
the part of parents who want to know the most up to date research, but
a need for an exchange of information: people express a need to share
what they have experienced, as well as learning from others. Hearing
personal stories about language learning and use helps me as an academic
to understand who is coming to school and what they might need when
they get there.
The
most obvious way of going about researching this topic seemed to be
through interviewing: asking questions, listening to the answers, writing
them down. But as I looked more closely into interviewing as a research
method I became apprehensive. What does it mean to interview someone?
What does the word "inter view" really mean? Does it mean to view or
look into someone? Spradley's classic The Ethnographic Interview
(1979) states: “If we want to find out what people know we must get
inside their heads” (p. 8).
McMillan
and Schumacher (1993) write:
To
mitigate the disadvantages of interviewing, the interviewer should
be thought of as a neutral medium through which information is exchanged.
If this goal is attained, then the interviewer's presence will have
no effect on the perceptions or answers of the respondent. (p. 266)
I
cannot accept this to be true. I do not want to go rummaging inside
other people's heads. I am not neutral, nor am I a medium. I want to
make my presence as a researcher felt, to acknowledge that I play an
active role in the exchange of knowledge, and to embrace it honestly
and openly. Michelle Fine (1994) has redefined the interviewer's place
in research:
As
researchers we need to position ourselves as no longer transparent,
but as classed, gendered, raced and sexual subjects who construct
our own locations, narrate these locations, and negotiate our stances
with relations of domination. (p. 76)
Madeleine
Grumet (1987) reminds us that as researchers we must be respectful of
both the tellers of stories and the stories themselves:
So
if telling a story requires giving oneself away, then we are obligated
to devise a method of receiving stories that mediates the space between
the self that tells, the self that [is] told and the self that listens:
a method that returns a story to the teller that is both hers and
not hers, that contains herself in good company. (p. 322)
I
began looking for ways to understand research that were fundamentally
influenced by this notion of equal partnerships. I found that others
had similar concerns, and one way to re-envision researching people's
knowledge, understanding, experience, and stories is to invite them
to take an active role, to take ownership of the data, and work together
as a team, so that the study becomes meaningful for all participants.
If the wisdom of each participant is acknowledged, if we respect the
words and ideas and experience as we respect the person, we learn through
the exchange of knowledge and understandings, through which greater
knowledge and understandings are revealed. Terry Carson (1986) has been
influenced by the hermeneutic idea that knowledge is circular rather
than linear and that it builds on itself through people's contact with
other people:
...
theorists and inquirers do not begin their research from scratch.
People interested partake in a continually evolving conversation which
has begun long before their arrival and which now continues with their
participation. (p. 75)
This
coincided with my own views about the conversations I had been having
with other people, that they were eternal, omnipresent, and that the
ones I participated in were only a very tiny representation of a continual
series of conversations that are constantly taking place all around
me. I became convinced that conversation is a possible way to conduct
research. Mischler (1986) has written: "the research interview is no
longer seen as a tool only for 'information gathering.' It is a site
where partners meet and converse, and through their conversations they
jointly construct meaning" (p. 29). Gudmundsdottir (1996) enlarges upon
this theme:
The
interview is a form of conversation. Someone asks a question and another
person responds....Through their cooperation in the research process,
researchers and informants jointly put the pieces together into a
meaningful whole, something that makes sense to both with each participant
having left his or her mark on the process and the product. (p. 294)
The
origins of the word converse provide an interesting link to the research
approach because it evolved from the Old French converser, meaning to
live or dwell, which in turn was borrowed from Latin conversari, which
means to associate with or keep company with. Thus, in 1340, conversation
could mean living together, or a manner of behaving as a group (Oxford
English Dictionary, 1971, pp. 545-546). Those of us who are living with
children, whether we are parents, educators or members of the health
profession, are associates in our efforts to assist them in reaching
their fullest potential. It is essential that we continue to converse,
to keep company with others who are part of the journey, and to share
understandings so that they will deepen and broaden with each exchange.
However,
Carson (1986) does not view the conversation itself as the sum total
of the research:
The
potential that conversation has as a mode of curriculum research will
depend on whether or not it is regarded merely as an effective technique
for data gathering or as hermeneutic reflection with a practical intent.
(p. 81)
Hermeneutic
reflection informs conversation as a research methodology in an important
way. Hermeneutic inquiry is based on the philosophical theory that,
as researchers, we cannot obtain objective knowledge through research,
only come to a greater understanding of a phenomenon through our engagement
with a context, be it text or dialogue. Bleicher (1980), states that
"hermeneutics can be loosely defined as the theory or philosophy of
the interpretation of meaning ..." (p. 1). Bruns (1992) frames hermeneutic
inquiry in terms of questions: "Hermeneutics is made up of a family
of questions about what happens in the understanding of anything, not
just of texts but of how things are" (p. 179).
In
social science research hermeneutic inquiry has been greatly influenced
by the work of the German philosopher Hans-Georg Gadamer, particularly
through his book Truth and Method, which was first published in German
in 1960. Gadamer (1989) is a strong advocate of learning through conversation
and dialogue, basing his work on the Socratic dialogues of Plato, but
carrying the concept much further, as in the following quotation:
As
the art of conducting a conversation, dialectic is also the art of
seeing things in the unity of the aspect-- i.e. it is the art of forming
concepts through working out the common meaning. What characterizes
a dialogue, in contrast with the rigid form of statements that demand
to be set down in writing, is precisely this: that in dialogue spoken
language--in the process of question and answer, giving and taking,
talking at cross-purposes and seeing each other's point--performs
the communication of meaning that, with respect to the written tradition
is the task of hermeneutics. (p. 368)
Gadamer
sees conversation as "a process of coming to an understanding" (p. 385)
wherein "the questioner becomes the one who is questioned and the hermeneutic
occurrence is realized in the dialectic of the question" (p. 462). In
his interpretation, conversation becomes a means for conducting research
that invites the participation of all parties to explore their understanding
of the subject at hand through dialogue, leading to a collaborative
increase in knowledge for all. "To understand what a person says is,
as we saw, to come to an understanding about the subject matter, not
to get inside another person and relive his (sic) experiences" (Gadamer,
1989. p. 383). Carson (1986) also writes about the potential of conversation
in conducting research in a way that reduces the risk of the researcher
claiming the stories of the researched:
Doing
research in the conversational mode changes the relationship between
persons who have been hitherto labelled as "researcher" and "practitioner."
While it is unlikely to totally abolish the distinction between them,
conversational research does offer the possibility of developing a
community of co-operative investigation into significant educational
questions. (p. 83)
Supported
by this research I began my data collection but shortly encountered
new doubts about ethical ways of conducting studies with human subjects.
As soon as you pull out your tape recorder something happens to this
relationship. Even before--as soon as you describe your research intentions,
ask permission to quote, produce the forms on official letterhead to
sign, something happens. It's not that people aren't willing to take
part, they really want to help, but they had certain assumptions and
expectations about how research takes place.
No
matter what you do, a planned conversation in front of a tape recorder
is not the same as a spontaneous one. It simply cannot be, and it would
be dishonest to pretend otherwise. So what are we doing when we use
conversation as a research methodology? Are we simply deluding ourselves
that it is possible? All planned conversations are prepared in the sense
that the participants have thought about what they are going to say
to a certain extent.
So
how is conversation as a research methodology different from open-ended
interviews? How is conversation different from instances where the researcher
reflects on what they would like to know, asks questions, listens to
the answers and writes them down? In one sense the conversation is not
really all that different from an open-ended interview; to an observer
they may look quite similar. So why make the distinction?
The
real difference is not in what actually happens, but in the intention
of the researching participants. If they are intending to have a conversation,
not an interview, there are certain expectations about everybody's role,
about what is allowed and what is not acceptable behaviour. For example,
in a conversation, I, the researcher, am allowed to talk about my personal
self. I might or might not do that, depending on the subject under discussion,
but I am allowed to. In this way I can share my own experiences as a
parent of bilingual children, for example, as a way of joining in the
conversation on a more or less equal basis. During the conversation
itself, we are two or more parents discussing our children. In this
way the conversation I shared with the mother at the swimming pool becomes
a part of my research.
It
is after the conversation that our roles really differ: the other participants
go away and perhaps reflect a little, maybe talk over some of the ideas
with a partner, parent or friend. I go away, reflect, transcribe, reflect
some more and eventually write a dissertation.
Does
that make a difference? Are honourable intentions about doing research
enough? What is important here, the process of research, or the final
product? If intent is the important aspect, then do the names we call
our methodologies matter? That is, does what we call the people we work
with: participant, subject, informant; and what we call the data gathering
process: interview or conversation, make a big difference? I have to
answer mostly yes, but sometimes no. There are times when the words
we use become labels of convenience, to manipulate as we see fit. However,
beginning with thoughtful, intentional choices of words to describe
a process that has great potential for exploitation is the first step
in following through with inclusive, participatory research.
Despite
the risks, I believe that we who have taken this position as researcher
through our studies at the graduate level, have an obligation to carry
out research--to search for new ways of making meaning of our lives
and those who are connected to us through classrooms, schools and homes.
At the same time, we also have an obligation to strive to continually
question our ethics, to examine our motives and actions, and to strive
to work with people in ways that are inclusive, thoughtful and respectful.
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