Note to self: Read Saldana annually. This is perhaps the third time I have read the first two chapters of Saldana. Like my experience with any text, I am amazed at how the pages have changed since my last reading. I thought I put it safely on the “read” shelves, yet somehow Saldana managed to clarify several things for me in the months between readings.
First, the mysterious analytic memos: What a joy it is to re-read a text that makes more sense once you have fumbled through a few amateurish attempts at applying knowledge. Alison Anders suggests that we keep field notes, field journals, and analytic journals for each study in which we are engaged. This is in addition to the multiple data files, audio files and research team meeting notes on a given study. I’m always wondering… OK, this is something I am thinking about, now how can I capture it, where do I “place” it, and where does it fit within the larger project?
Saldana reminds me that there are a multitude of purposes for analytic memos and thus a variety of types of analytic memos. I am particularly attracted to the use of subtitles for analytic memos, which Saldana (2009) informs me “function as subcodes or themes and enable you to subcategorize the contents into more study-specific groupings” (p. 41). Thinking about my data, via the analytic memo, used to seem like personal musings that related more to my apprehension about the process. I now believe that this was a necessary precursor to more sophisticated analytic memo writing. I have balked at putting my thoughts about the codes, process, and connections between and among participants into concrete memos for fear that they were immature or unrefined. Saldana reminds me that my concerns are a legitimate and necessary component in the analysis and theorizing process. Early inklings inform or question what needs to be more clearly defined and understood. Don’t tell Trena, but I think she has been trying to teach me this for years!
Now, about coding: I have rarely been in the position of working on only one study at a time and I don’t see this practice changing any time soon – particularly through the dissertation process. While working with different projects, different research teams, and even different methodologies I become aware of the variety of idiosyncratic approaches to coding data. In a phenomenological transcript review, I am looking for “What stands out to me?” and “What is this unit of meaning about?” and “Is there another way to view this?” This practice changes when I am looking at case study data through an a priori theoretical lens of categories of themes or attributes. Finally, when left to my own devices, I tend to look for naming opportunities and in vivo phrases that are particularly interesting.
Saldana references Hatch (2002), who is sitting on my “un-read” shelf right now, in listing a myriad of pattern types and categorizations on p. 6. I find (as an abstract belief) that I could apply all of these patterns to any data collected. What I appreciate about Saldana’s approach to coding after all of the practical assistance is this repeated mantra that coding is not universal, but rather driven by both the researcher and the subject of inquiry. It does not mean that I am schizophrenic if I notice and code patterns, categories and themes in different ways for each different datum, it could mean that I am letting the meaning become known organically each time I engage with my research. Note to self: write an analytic memo about this new understanding.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Abstractions and theorizing
Grbich’s (2007) section on writing up data seemed at once both simplistic and helpful. What does that say about me that I reacted to the functional nature of Part Four? It’s probably related to the pragmatic research posture I am exploring…
Theorizing from Data (chapter 14) was the most helpful chapter, although certainly dealing with the complexity of theorizing from an elementary level. I have not viewed theory from this micro, middle, and grand level in the way that Grbich presents it. She speaks of these choices in the writing up of our research with terms like “theory directed” and “light theoretical interpretations” (p. 185) which makes me feel as if I am deciding to order an entrée or select my meal in an ala carte fashion! I’ll take the lightly theorized phenomenology with a side of heavily postpositivist multiple regression, please.
I do appreciate Grbich’s general style of presenting examples to highlight each of her categories in this and other parts of her text. I suppose she had to include examples from a variety of disciplines (business, management, sociology) in order to appeal to a larger qualitative research community. The lessons learned from this chapter came mostly in the form of illumination of the underlying assumptions of each level of theorizing and abstracting. My claims in this arena must be logically connected to the methodology my studies follow.
I took many cautions to heart from the multiple methods chapter. (When you have a hammer…) In particular, my own research design for my dissertation study will be improved as a result of the “Advantages of combining quantitative and qualitative results” section (p. 197). I am particularly attracted to the idea of using quantitative data to examine differences between groups (variability and covariability) while tracking changes over time (a yearlong teacher internship process) and qualitative data (interviews and focus groups) to approach an understanding of the experience for the participants. Grbich has helped me to conceptualize the frame for this data collection more clearly and to hopefully avoid some of the pitfalls of poorly designed mixed methods research.
Theorizing from Data (chapter 14) was the most helpful chapter, although certainly dealing with the complexity of theorizing from an elementary level. I have not viewed theory from this micro, middle, and grand level in the way that Grbich presents it. She speaks of these choices in the writing up of our research with terms like “theory directed” and “light theoretical interpretations” (p. 185) which makes me feel as if I am deciding to order an entrée or select my meal in an ala carte fashion! I’ll take the lightly theorized phenomenology with a side of heavily postpositivist multiple regression, please.
I do appreciate Grbich’s general style of presenting examples to highlight each of her categories in this and other parts of her text. I suppose she had to include examples from a variety of disciplines (business, management, sociology) in order to appeal to a larger qualitative research community. The lessons learned from this chapter came mostly in the form of illumination of the underlying assumptions of each level of theorizing and abstracting. My claims in this arena must be logically connected to the methodology my studies follow.
I took many cautions to heart from the multiple methods chapter. (When you have a hammer…) In particular, my own research design for my dissertation study will be improved as a result of the “Advantages of combining quantitative and qualitative results” section (p. 197). I am particularly attracted to the idea of using quantitative data to examine differences between groups (variability and covariability) while tracking changes over time (a yearlong teacher internship process) and qualitative data (interviews and focus groups) to approach an understanding of the experience for the participants. Grbich has helped me to conceptualize the frame for this data collection more clearly and to hopefully avoid some of the pitfalls of poorly designed mixed methods research.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Categories, Communities and Complexities
Grbich (2007) makes many communities of practice clearer for me with her categorical chapters of document analysis. I thank her for each and every “ah-ha moment” in my reading for this week. In particular, she helped me to understand the underlying ontology/epistemology of certain traditions (discourse analysis, for example) that construct reality in ways that are different from my own conceptions of “truth.” This is most helpful now that I have dabbled in different methodological approaches to data and document analysis.
I remember reading Reynolds’ (2008) The Single Woman and puzzling over phrases indicating that the language (discourse) used by participants allowed them to sort-of create themselves through the language. Reynolds is directly reflexive in stating that she views “identity as something that we can only know about through looking at social practices, since the inner subjectivity remains hidden from the researcher’s view” (p. 25). In examining the discourse and models of the single identity, Reynolds puzzled, “What different ways do they [models of the single identity] offer a woman on her own of understanding her life and her current situation?” (p. 26). My note in the margin next to this passage asks, “Does anyone need to be offered models to understand themselves?”
Citing Foucault, Grbich describes the social constructionist philosophy underlying discourse analysis: “Discourses are not about objects; they do not identify objects, they constitute them and in the practice of doing so conceal their own invention” (as cited in Grbich, 2007, p. 147, emphasis added). Perhaps my struggle with the social construction of reality lies more in the foundational beliefs underlying this philosophy than in my research-self that attempts to understand that I can only work with what my participants share and my interpretations of what they include and omit from their discourse. Noblit (1999) makes the point that “research techniques and methods in qualitative research are incidental to the central act of interpretation. We employ them so that we can make sense of some social scene, but they have no significance independent of the interpretation and the context in which they are used” (p. 14). This leads to some of the general approaches to organizing and making sense of the data before we begin more formal analysis.
Particularly helpful for me was Grbich’s opening chapter on content analysis, which allows the use of this analytic approach as a starting point to begin organizing and familiarizing oneself with a large corpus of data. I personally find it necessary to gather a sense of the whole before determining the exact next course of analytic action, even when approaching data with literature and methodological commitments in tow. While Grbich summarizes one use of content analysis as that, “It can simplify very large documents into enumerative information,” I might be able to tweak that strength in that it can organize a large amount of data into categorical information (p. 122). This adjustment of Grbich’s defining strength in content analysis moves away from the quantitative benefits and into a more thematic approach which I find more amenable to my work.
Grbich’s narrative analysis chapter likewise brought some comfort through continuity for me. Laying out the process of socio-linguistic approaches to narrative, Grbich cites Labov and the elements of a socio-linguistic approach to structured narrative (p. 127). This is consistent with the presentation of Labov’s “evaluation model” as cited in Coffey and Atkinson (1996):
Structure - Question
Abstract - What was this about?
Orientation - Who? What? When? Where?
Complication - Then what happened?
Evaluation - So what?
Result - What finally happened?
Coda - [Finish narrative] (p. 58)
I personally appreciate those golden moments when multiple authors refer back to the seminal work on a topic as Grbich does in her text through connections with Labov in narrative analysis, Jefferson in conversation analysis and Foucault in discourse analysis. These names and this continuity of presentation really help the novice researcher to hone in on those seminal theorists and works.
What I am still troubling with is the chapter about structural and poststructural analysis. Like everything else in my graduate school experiences, I shall attribute my misunderstandings of Grbich’s chapter to a lack of foundational reading on my part in this domain. While I have spent many hours in the process of deconstructing a text or a transcript, Grbich’s chapter did not eliminate, for me, the danger of “its tendency toward nihilism” (p. 180). I find when I am lost in the deconstructed bits, I must return from that place of disconnected pondering lest I allow the very practice of deconstruction to “very quickly lead to meaninglessness” (p. 180).
References other than Grbich
Coffee, A. & Atkinson, P. (1996). Making sense of qualitative data: Complementary research strategies. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Noblit, G.W. (1999). Particularities: Collected essays on ethnography and education. New York, NY: Peter Lang
Reynolds, J. (2008). The single woman: A discursive investigation. New York, NY: Routledge.
I remember reading Reynolds’ (2008) The Single Woman and puzzling over phrases indicating that the language (discourse) used by participants allowed them to sort-of create themselves through the language. Reynolds is directly reflexive in stating that she views “identity as something that we can only know about through looking at social practices, since the inner subjectivity remains hidden from the researcher’s view” (p. 25). In examining the discourse and models of the single identity, Reynolds puzzled, “What different ways do they [models of the single identity] offer a woman on her own of understanding her life and her current situation?” (p. 26). My note in the margin next to this passage asks, “Does anyone need to be offered models to understand themselves?”
Citing Foucault, Grbich describes the social constructionist philosophy underlying discourse analysis: “Discourses are not about objects; they do not identify objects, they constitute them and in the practice of doing so conceal their own invention” (as cited in Grbich, 2007, p. 147, emphasis added). Perhaps my struggle with the social construction of reality lies more in the foundational beliefs underlying this philosophy than in my research-self that attempts to understand that I can only work with what my participants share and my interpretations of what they include and omit from their discourse. Noblit (1999) makes the point that “research techniques and methods in qualitative research are incidental to the central act of interpretation. We employ them so that we can make sense of some social scene, but they have no significance independent of the interpretation and the context in which they are used” (p. 14). This leads to some of the general approaches to organizing and making sense of the data before we begin more formal analysis.
Particularly helpful for me was Grbich’s opening chapter on content analysis, which allows the use of this analytic approach as a starting point to begin organizing and familiarizing oneself with a large corpus of data. I personally find it necessary to gather a sense of the whole before determining the exact next course of analytic action, even when approaching data with literature and methodological commitments in tow. While Grbich summarizes one use of content analysis as that, “It can simplify very large documents into enumerative information,” I might be able to tweak that strength in that it can organize a large amount of data into categorical information (p. 122). This adjustment of Grbich’s defining strength in content analysis moves away from the quantitative benefits and into a more thematic approach which I find more amenable to my work.
Grbich’s narrative analysis chapter likewise brought some comfort through continuity for me. Laying out the process of socio-linguistic approaches to narrative, Grbich cites Labov and the elements of a socio-linguistic approach to structured narrative (p. 127). This is consistent with the presentation of Labov’s “evaluation model” as cited in Coffey and Atkinson (1996):
Structure - Question
Abstract - What was this about?
Orientation - Who? What? When? Where?
Complication - Then what happened?
Evaluation - So what?
Result - What finally happened?
Coda - [Finish narrative] (p. 58)
I personally appreciate those golden moments when multiple authors refer back to the seminal work on a topic as Grbich does in her text through connections with Labov in narrative analysis, Jefferson in conversation analysis and Foucault in discourse analysis. These names and this continuity of presentation really help the novice researcher to hone in on those seminal theorists and works.
What I am still troubling with is the chapter about structural and poststructural analysis. Like everything else in my graduate school experiences, I shall attribute my misunderstandings of Grbich’s chapter to a lack of foundational reading on my part in this domain. While I have spent many hours in the process of deconstructing a text or a transcript, Grbich’s chapter did not eliminate, for me, the danger of “its tendency toward nihilism” (p. 180). I find when I am lost in the deconstructed bits, I must return from that place of disconnected pondering lest I allow the very practice of deconstruction to “very quickly lead to meaninglessness” (p. 180).
References other than Grbich
Coffee, A. & Atkinson, P. (1996). Making sense of qualitative data: Complementary research strategies. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.
Noblit, G.W. (1999). Particularities: Collected essays on ethnography and education. New York, NY: Peter Lang
Reynolds, J. (2008). The single woman: A discursive investigation. New York, NY: Routledge.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Clarities and Commotions
I really appreciate Grbich’s (2007) attempt to offer guidelines for the uses of such a variety of approaches in part two of her text. The introduction to this section, however, speaks to the fuzzy nature of qualitative research in general, offering the analyst to “trial new ways of proceeding” and then “publish the outcomes for other research to add to their list of possible choices” (p. 37). This clarity is why doctoral students grow premature gray hairs. (OK, mine are just mature – not the pre-.)
In regard to the content of part two of her work, I appreciate that Grbich helps to frame the most popular approaches to analysis. This section of the text helps to frame the historical landscape from which each analytic approach has grown. I also find her examples, resources and summaries quite accessible. It reminds me of other texts (Bentz & Shapiro, 1998; Creswell, 2007/2003; and Bogdan & Biklen, 2007) which provide a state of the practice view of a number of qualitative approaches to analysis.
For the purposes of this course, and my project goals within the course, I will need to use Grbich as a jumping off place and read much more detailed accounts of how others create either clarity or commotion with the blending of different approaches to analysis. For example, I am looking at the possibility of blending Grbich’s classical ethnographic approach with that of existential phenomenology. Howard Pollio (personal communication, November 9, 2010) introduced a new approach, phenomenography, to me last semester that I am finding few examples of in my area of research interest. This interests me greatly and I am determined to read more widely on the use and underlying assumptions inherent in this approach.
In the meantime, I am finding that extensive readings of ethnographies and phenomenologies are helping me to think more critically about the strengths and advantages of each approach. I find Goodall’s (2000) description of the “New Ethnography” to be more centered on the presentation and narrative composition of ethnographic work rather than on self-discovery and Marxist critique as Grbich frames it. Perhaps this is due to my own frame of reference – do you think? I am fortunate to have been able to read several ethnographic works, such as Bettie’s (2003) Women Without Class; Bourgois & Schonberg’s (2009) Righteous Dopefiend; Ferguson’s (2001) Bad Boys; Lareau’s (2003) Unequal Childhoods; Milner’s (2006) Freaks, Geeks and Cool Kids and Ellis’ major autoethnographic work (2004) The Ethnographic I this year. These books excite both the reader and the scholar in me! I find the narrative writing style of ethnographic accounts to provide the clearest test for validity – does the reader believe what you are saying is true is in fact true from his or her own personal worldview. Have you made your claims from the research data and connected this with the literature? Has your own personal bias been exposed and subjected to critique? Have you attended to your own persona as the narrator of the story of others. Goodall describes this form of ethnographic reflexivity as “akin to the function of self-disclosure in friendships” and includes how you treat people, reflect on your experiences in the field, and attempt to derive meaning through your explanations (p. 131). Clearly, these matters are much bigger than merely your approach to analysis of the data collected in a study. It involves the tools of authorship, storytelling and the ability to effect an emotional reaction from your reader. Powerful stuff!
From Grbich’s treatment of phenomenology, I find that I have been operating on the assumption that Husserl, Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and Gadamer’s approaches were not incommensurable frameworks. I have attempted to understand the search for essences as the focus of phenomenology with Heidegger’s Dasein and Husserl’s focus on a “return to the things-themselves” without conflict. My naïve understanding of key differences between Husserl and other phenomenologists lied in the assertions about bracketing. Husserl believed that one could bracket out their own views and experiences in order to keep the research pure and free of researcher bias. Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and Gadamer counter that this is an impossible condition to achieve and lacks value if it could be achieved. All of our experiences are necessary in order to understand another’s position as a being-in-the-world and we need to be cautious that our interpretations are truly deriving from the participants in our research practices. I am regularly reminded to “show me that [interpretation of meaning] in the text” (Howard Pollio, personal communication, various dates and times).
This warns me that I have perhaps been reading at a more superficial level and need to examine more critically the unique foundations of existential phenomenology as it diverges from classical and hermeneutic phenomenology. Grbich does help me sort some of this out by stating that “The difference in approach here from the classical phenomenology of Husserl [speaking of Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty’s existential phenomenology] lies in the broad movement from the abstract to the real – the meanings for being must be uncovered first – in contrast with Husserl’s movement in classical phenomenology from the real to the abstract” (p. 91). This is a critical distinction for existential phenomenology and I am thankful to begin to sort this out.
Which brings me back to where we started…. I am need of a coherent methodological framework for analysis (still thinking that phenomenography may work) which will require me to convince my readers of the soundness of this decision, the reflexivity of the research process, and the (hopeful) possibility of an evolution in my understanding as I read more of these research publications.
In regard to the content of part two of her work, I appreciate that Grbich helps to frame the most popular approaches to analysis. This section of the text helps to frame the historical landscape from which each analytic approach has grown. I also find her examples, resources and summaries quite accessible. It reminds me of other texts (Bentz & Shapiro, 1998; Creswell, 2007/2003; and Bogdan & Biklen, 2007) which provide a state of the practice view of a number of qualitative approaches to analysis.
For the purposes of this course, and my project goals within the course, I will need to use Grbich as a jumping off place and read much more detailed accounts of how others create either clarity or commotion with the blending of different approaches to analysis. For example, I am looking at the possibility of blending Grbich’s classical ethnographic approach with that of existential phenomenology. Howard Pollio (personal communication, November 9, 2010) introduced a new approach, phenomenography, to me last semester that I am finding few examples of in my area of research interest. This interests me greatly and I am determined to read more widely on the use and underlying assumptions inherent in this approach.
In the meantime, I am finding that extensive readings of ethnographies and phenomenologies are helping me to think more critically about the strengths and advantages of each approach. I find Goodall’s (2000) description of the “New Ethnography” to be more centered on the presentation and narrative composition of ethnographic work rather than on self-discovery and Marxist critique as Grbich frames it. Perhaps this is due to my own frame of reference – do you think? I am fortunate to have been able to read several ethnographic works, such as Bettie’s (2003) Women Without Class; Bourgois & Schonberg’s (2009) Righteous Dopefiend; Ferguson’s (2001) Bad Boys; Lareau’s (2003) Unequal Childhoods; Milner’s (2006) Freaks, Geeks and Cool Kids and Ellis’ major autoethnographic work (2004) The Ethnographic I this year. These books excite both the reader and the scholar in me! I find the narrative writing style of ethnographic accounts to provide the clearest test for validity – does the reader believe what you are saying is true is in fact true from his or her own personal worldview. Have you made your claims from the research data and connected this with the literature? Has your own personal bias been exposed and subjected to critique? Have you attended to your own persona as the narrator of the story of others. Goodall describes this form of ethnographic reflexivity as “akin to the function of self-disclosure in friendships” and includes how you treat people, reflect on your experiences in the field, and attempt to derive meaning through your explanations (p. 131). Clearly, these matters are much bigger than merely your approach to analysis of the data collected in a study. It involves the tools of authorship, storytelling and the ability to effect an emotional reaction from your reader. Powerful stuff!
From Grbich’s treatment of phenomenology, I find that I have been operating on the assumption that Husserl, Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and Gadamer’s approaches were not incommensurable frameworks. I have attempted to understand the search for essences as the focus of phenomenology with Heidegger’s Dasein and Husserl’s focus on a “return to the things-themselves” without conflict. My naïve understanding of key differences between Husserl and other phenomenologists lied in the assertions about bracketing. Husserl believed that one could bracket out their own views and experiences in order to keep the research pure and free of researcher bias. Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty and Gadamer counter that this is an impossible condition to achieve and lacks value if it could be achieved. All of our experiences are necessary in order to understand another’s position as a being-in-the-world and we need to be cautious that our interpretations are truly deriving from the participants in our research practices. I am regularly reminded to “show me that [interpretation of meaning] in the text” (Howard Pollio, personal communication, various dates and times).
This warns me that I have perhaps been reading at a more superficial level and need to examine more critically the unique foundations of existential phenomenology as it diverges from classical and hermeneutic phenomenology. Grbich does help me sort some of this out by stating that “The difference in approach here from the classical phenomenology of Husserl [speaking of Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty’s existential phenomenology] lies in the broad movement from the abstract to the real – the meanings for being must be uncovered first – in contrast with Husserl’s movement in classical phenomenology from the real to the abstract” (p. 91). This is a critical distinction for existential phenomenology and I am thankful to begin to sort this out.
Which brings me back to where we started…. I am need of a coherent methodological framework for analysis (still thinking that phenomenography may work) which will require me to convince my readers of the soundness of this decision, the reflexivity of the research process, and the (hopeful) possibility of an evolution in my understanding as I read more of these research publications.
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