Sikes, Pat (2010). The ethics of writing life histories and narratives in educational research. Exploring Learning, Identity and Power through Life History and Narrative Research. Bathmaker, Ann-Marie and Penelope Harnett (Eds). New York, NY : Routledge.
“Narrativising, like all intentional behavior…is a site of moral responsibility” Laurel Richardson, 1990, p. 131.
Sikes ARGUES first and foremost that “the preliminary jottings we make when first beginning to develop ideas about what we’re going to look at, proposals, notes and references we take from literature, field notes, transcripts, research diary entries and so on, as much as any formal accounts….are, in my opinion, as much a part of the investigation as any data we may collect. I share with Richardson’s belief that writing is a method of inquiry and this view permeates everything I will write.” (p. 12).
She also states that “writing lives is always an auto/biographical process and acknowledging this is, in my view, the first task that ethical researchers must address.” (p. 12). “It seems unethical to offer a version of someone’s life (or indeed of any social phenomenon) without making clear the nature of the gaze that is being brought to bear upon it.” (p. 13) YES. We must ask “what is MY role in this, why was I interested in this topic and how do I fit into the puzzle”—in other words, what is my “voice” and “words,” and what can I fairly attribute to participants?
Ironically, even before I discovered narrative inquiry as a method, I'd FOUGHT to include my own backstory as part of my research proposal and it's something I'm very upfront about with all of my participants when we meet. I'm the eldest daughter of a third or fourth generation minister, a Christian myself who wants to fight for social justice and especially for immigrants and my ESL students. I stumbled into a PhD program not because I wanted the degree but because the stories I was hearing was something I became passionate about and wanted to enter into a conversation about religious identity, emerging adulthood and national rhetoric surrounding these things.
Sikes also reminds us that acknowledging the relationship between participant and research is also key(p. 13). My relationship with all but one of the participants came about solely because of this study--I hadn't known them in advance. It creates an interesting dynamic in our exchanges that I'm not always happy about because it feels somewhat inauthentic...but at the same time, the most difficult interviews have been with the participant I already knew because, well, we've talked about these things off the record before and I think she doesn't see any point in adding to it just for the sake of the recorder (and I understand that...but I also don't want to put words in her mouth based on half-remembered conversations!)
“My bottom-line, acid test for whether or not I consider my own or other people’s research to be ethical is: how would I feel if I, members of y family or my friends were to be involved and treated and written about in the way that the research in question involves or treats or depicts its participants?” (p. 14)
Ah HA. This is where Laibel’s (2000) article, "A loving epistemology" that deals with white women researching people of color and ethics in narrative inquiry collide. From my own comprehensive exam addressing what place/role a white woman might have in critical race theory:
As cited in Julie Laible’s A Loving Epistemology (2000), [the following quote from bell hooks] challenged me as much as it challenged her, when hooks takes on the voice of the white researcher, saying:
No need to hear your voice when I can talk about you better than you can speak about yourself. No need to hear your voice. Only tell me about your pain. I want to know your story. And then I will tell it back to you in a new way. Tell it back to you in such a new way that it has become mine, my own. Rewriting you, I write myself anew. I am still author, authority. I am still the colonizer, the speaking subject, and you are now at the center of my talk. Stop. (pp. 152).
Much like the conclusions Laible (2000) reaches, I believe that I cannot truly research on the other—EVER—and feel justified in doing so. Although traditionally it is perceived that one person writes a dissertation, this cannot be the case in my work, if it is to be done well. If I am to let other voices be heard, I must hear them throughout the process of interviewing, transcribing, data analysis and in drawing conclusions. I must learn to study with those I interview, see myself through their eyes, seek their insight and feedback on whatever I write. As a White woman, it may be true that I will never truly understand in the eyes of some (Williams, 2004), but I will certainly try and do my best to listen, actively resisting the forces of racism”
I don’t think I gave enough space to other voices even in this conception—or maybe it was because as I was writing this, it was still just a proposal in the works or an idea. When people actually began the interview process, I began to feel even more…adamant, I guess I’d say, about including them in every stage. Every thing I’ve written so far has been sent to the person it’s about—and then we sit down for another interview so that I have their feedback, their voice. More than anything, I want each person to feel like this is an empowering experience. Hopefully, in any situation where I’ve taken over too much without acknowledging that it’s my voice, I’ll get pushback. I know that’s the case with Ashley as we’ve worked together for almost three years now and with Amira and Rose who are very outspoken and great activists. I do worry a bit about Hannah, as she doesn’t know me all that well and am not sure she feels comfortable with me. I hope she’s not afraid to tell me off.
My advisor had a brilliant idea about what we’d asked to do through IRB. I’d originally thought a group interview might be a good idea, to draw out perhaps places where they all saw similarities or differences between their stories. I realized how much that would change dynamics and findings though and how much, then, they might want to find similarities if phrased that way. I’d told my advisor that I just wasn’t going to do it—having permission to do something via IRB doesn’t mean it HAS to happen. She, however, encouraged me to do it towards the very end—and have them put me through a preliminary dissertation defense. I would then present to them and any other family members who wanted to come along what I thought I’d found and walk through the regular process of a defense, but then have to answer their questions, concerns and anything else that might come up. Intimidating? Absolutely. But in order to really, truly meet Sike’s (2010) acid test, what better way to do so than actually share this with my participants and their families before sharing it with anyone else?
Stories and lives are intimate things and if we are going to share them in narrative form with others we’d better be awfully sure that we’re 1) being clear about our roles and biases as narrators and 2) not presenting an image of someone that they feel is inaccurate or do not wish to share.
