Narragating’ the labyrinth of a qualitative, narrative approach
4.3 Narrative research undone
4.3.1 Approaching the ‘narrative turn’: my turn to personal narratives
Over the last three decades there has been growing recognition of the surge in narrative research, which has been described as the ‘narrative boom’, ‘narrative turn’ or ‘narrative explosion’ (Hänninen, 2004, p. 69).The main reason for such a shift in the nature of academic inquiry was, perhaps, that scholars from multiple disciplines could not adequately analyse and interpret complex human experiences or activities through a positivist lens (Blumenreich, 2004; Riessman, 1993; Spector-Mersel, 2010; Webster & Mertova, 2007). And so, while stories and interpretations were previously neglected and disregarded; they are now welcome and encouraged. The realisation, therefore, is that narrative research offers opportunities to describe and interpret human experience whilst at the same time addressing issues of representation and agency. As such, issues of voice are accentuated, and the influence of social, cultural and political contexts foregrounded. Squire puts it this way: the narrative turn encompasses shifts to “qualitative methods, to language, to the biographical, to the unconscious, to participant-centred research, to ecological research, to the social, to the visual, to power, to culture, to reflexivity…” (2005, p. 91).
The value of narrative research is therefore twofold: it enhances understanding of researchers and participants and provides a means to make sense of their experiences, as well as acknowledging their similarities and uniqueness. A further strength- which could also be argued as a weakness (May, 2004) - is the interdisciplinary and multidisciplinary dimensions of narrative research, which enhances its potential to understand and interpret lived experiences (Chase, 2005; Clandinin & Connelly, 2000; Cortazzi, 1993; Creswell, 2007;
Merrill & West, 2009; Riessman, 1993). Such realisations motivated my decision to adopt a narrative approach or research design for this study. The suitability of narrative research to explore not only teachers’ identities and subjectivities (Atkinson, 2004; Kraus, 2006; May,
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2004; Ritchie & Wilson, 2000; Søreide, 2006), but also their lives and teaching practice (Clandinin & Connelly, 2000; Goodson, 1997; Ritchie & Wilson, 2000; Witherell &
Noddings, 1991); emotions in teaching (Narayan, 1991; Nias, 1996) as well as interacting with curricula (Fowler, 2006; Singh, 2007) is well documented. The upshot of recognition of the value of narrative research, not surprisingly, is a convincing argument that narrative research is more than a methodology; instead, it is a worldview or paradigm in its own right (Dhunpath, 2000; Spector-Mersel, 2010). As such, narrative research offers an alternative lens or counterculture to explore teachers’ lives.
Narrative research is adopted as an overarching or umbrella category and includes:
biographies, autobiographies, life stories, life histories, personal accounts, personal narratives, oral history and auto-ethnographies, to name just a few (Casey, 1995; Creswell, 2012; Mertens, 2005). It is now widely acknowledged that narrative research offers opportunities to examine teachers’ personal and professional experiences, agency and teaching practices, and processes of teaching and learning that take place within classrooms (Elbaz-Luwisch, 1997; Feldman, Sköldberg, Brown & Horner, 2004; Riessman, 1993;
Webster & Mertova, 2007). Most importantly, I argue that narrative research acknowledges the urgent need to listen to teachers and allow them to present and represent themselves.
What becomes clear upon reviewing the multidisciplinary literature is the dynamic and evolving nature of narrative research. As social contexts and the way people make meaning evolved, definitions of narrative ruptured into a state of flux. The upshot of such multidisciplinary perspectives are diverse and sometimes absence of clear or distinct definitions of narrative, which, I argue, coheres well with the post-structuralist framework adopted in this study, and portrays the dynamic, fluid nature of narrative. Increasingly, narrative research has been defined as representing: lives, lived experience or ‘stories of experience’ (Casey, 1995; Gilbert, 2002; Webster & Mertova, 2007); oral and written stories of actions (Riessman, 1993); a text or discourse (Chase, 2005); meaning and a sense of belonging (Witherell & Noddings, 1991); events or series of events (Abbott, 2002; Elliott, 2005); implemented signs linked with time, space and sequence or temporal sequence of events (Cobley, 2001; Merrill & West, 2009); method and phenomenon of study (Clandinin
& Connelly, 1994), amongst other issues. Polkinghorne’s (1988) definition holistically encapsulates this dynamic nature of narrative research, elaborating that “narrative could have
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the following equivocal meanings: it has been used to refer to any spoken or written expression, any written sentence, paragraph or essay, the process of writing a story or the result of the process of writing a story” (1988, p. 13). In this study, a narrative approach entails: gathering rich textual information from teacher participants, either spoken or written, about their personal life as well as professional teaching experiences, and significant influences, either human or contextual, on their teaching practice, and constructing narratives from such stories. A narrative approach also offers opportunities for me to explore and understand teachers’ subjectivities and emotionality in relation to their teaching of HIV and AIDS education.
However, I contend that a related concern is the use of the terms ‘narrative’ and ‘story’
interchangeably (Gilbert, 2002; Richmond, 2002; Squire, 2005). Why do researchers employ these terms interchangeably? In what ways or how, precisely, do these terms differ? Since these terms are closely related, with some similarities, I believe that they are often used interchangeably. Instead, like Abbott (2002); Clandinin and Connelly (2000); Cobley (2001) and Frank (2000), I adopt an opposing view and argue that these terms are not synonymous.
For Clandinin and Connelly (2000), stories refer to lived experiences or phenomena told by participants, whereas narratives denote the process or method of writing and describing these stories and are constructed from analysing stories. Abbott (2002, p. 13), however, puts it differently: story refers to “the event or sequence of events”, while narrative discourse entails
“how the story is conveyed”. While Cobley (2001) agrees that story and narrative are closely related, he nevertheless discerns that story denotes “all the events which are to be depicted”, whereas narrative is the “showing or telling of these events and the mode selected for that to take place” (Cobley, 2001, pp. 5-6). Feldman et al. (2004), nevertheless, put it simply: stories are fragments or subsets entrenched in encompassing narratives. In this study, I engage in the process of co-constructing and analysing spoken and written stories of teachers to construct
‘narratives’ of their lived experiences, a sense of belonging and teaching practices.
As mentioned earlier in this chapter, narrative research incorporates many different categories. Although my research design might, broadly be described as narrative, my decision about which category to adopt in this study, more specifically, was guided by Creswell’s (2012, p. 504) questions: who writes or records the story? How much of a life is recorded or presented? Who provides the story? Is a theoretical lens being used?
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In this study, I co-construct narratives with teachers, although, I, to a greater extent, initially write and record the narrative. However, I do not report teachers’ entire lives, but on significant episodes or events in teachers’ personal and professional lives. It is the teachers themselves who provide stories of such episodes and events. A post-structuralist framework or lens is used to develop the narrative. In light of these responses, therefore, and more precisely, the category of narrative research I employ is a personal narrative approach. For Riessman (1993, p. 64), personal narratives are “not meant to be read as an exact record of what happened nor is it a mirror of a world ‘out there’”. This, therefore, highlights the importance of self, context and culture in such personal narratives. Such an approach, I believe, serves both as a powerful tool to acquire an in-depth understanding of the everyday life experiences of teachers, and also to engage with how their past life experiences influence their practice. In light of the above, I therefore opine that a narrative approach, in general, and a personal narrative approach, in particular, is most appropriate for this study, since it allows possibilities for me to generate rich, detailed accounts of teachers’ lives and their personal and teaching experiences.
At this juncture, I believe that it is important to explicate how a post-structuralist lens will enhance my understanding and analysis of teachers’ narratives. As I mentioned earlier, a post-structuralist framework underlines multiple truths, multiple subject positions and dynamic subjectivities as well as issues of power relations, voice, context, agency and transformation. The consequence of such realisations, not surprisingly, is that numerous scholars have been inspired to adopt a post-structuralist lens when employing a narrative approach. Studies by Blumenreich (2004), English (2005), Hole (2007), Neilson (2008) and Søreide (2006), to name but a few, illustrate this point. While I am aware of the critique of traditional narrative research, in accordance with Blumenreich (2004) I argue that such critique develops and expands narrative inquiry and analysis. In constructing narratives of children with HIV, Blumenreich (2004), was guided by three aims: ‘complex lives, shifting identities’, making the researcher visible and creating an oppositional picture. Such notions, I contend, offer valuable insights on how challenges of traditional narratives could be overcome by paying attention to socio-historical contexts and researcher positionality.
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A post-structuralist framework, additionally, is useful to explore the influence of power and resistance dynamics and diverse contexts, and how this affords agency, as well as construction and negotiation of dynamic, multiple identities, related to contexts (English, 2005; Hole, 2007; Søreide, 2006). Søreide (2006) argues that teachers construct identities by negotiating multiple subject positions in the act of storytelling which serve as ‘narrative resources’ as they share their life experiences. Therefore, I believe that such a framework has import for my study and offers valuable insights into the multiple, fluid nature of teacher’s subjectivities in diverse contexts, while a narrative underpinning is, indeed, essential to interpret and analyse the stories of teacher’s lives and experiences.
Of particular significance is a study by Neilson (2008) which accentuates issues of shifting multiple subjectivities, power, and collaborative co-construction of narratives, space, emotions and researcher privilege. Adopting a creative dance metaphor, she crafts her narratives employing spiral and circle patterns, which draws attention to her complex, dynamic research journey. This resonates with my choice to adopt the labyrinth metaphor to delineate my complex research journey as well as the dynamic nature of teachers’
subjectivities and emotions in HIV and AIDS education. Like Neilson (2008), I contend that a narrative approach allowed me to “respect the wisdom, knowledge and skills of the co- participants by sharing their stories in their voices” since they live ‘storied lives’ (Neilson, 2008, p. 39). Narratives, therefore, are valuable in illuminating inner selves or subjectivities as well as educational and classroom practices. A post-structuralist framework, I agree, is underpinned by notions of “identity as dynamic, relational and always contested”, and “a world where multiple perspectives…influence our thoughts and actions” (Neilson, 2008, p.
45). Of consequence is the spotlight on collaborative construction of narratives, which rupture bonds between power, knowledge, subjectivity and meaning.
Emotions and feelings, most importantly, influence interviews and narratives (Fowler, 2006;
Gubrium & Holstein, 2009; Narayan, 1991; Riessman, 2008a). Of consequence is that participants, as storytellers, in the process of telling their stories, evoke powerful feelings and experience emotions, such as love, hate, fear or trauma. Such emotions and feelings are conveyed by the language (verbs, adjectives, adverbs) used. This means that participants proffer their thoughts and feelings in their actions and words, and, as such, set the emotional tone of the narrative. A caveat, however, is that narrators need to accept responsibility for
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their feelings, whether they are feelings of happiness, despair, guilt, anxiety, regret or pleasure, and acknowledge the challenge that readers have agency and experience the implicit and explicit emotions conveyed in narratives. As such, Fowler (2006) contends that narratives have emotional power since they mirror emotions and feelings of the narrator which are invoked in the reader. Narratives, Riessman (2008b) agrees, not only convey ‘unspeakable emotions’ of participants, they also create and transmit emotional experiences in the researcher as well as the reader.
And so, like Fowler (2006) I argue that while the process of teaching becomes more complex, narratives proffer ‘safe’ spaces for teachers to examine their thinking and feeling about their teaching selves and teaching practice. Crafting narratives which, therefore, break silences and address difficulties may offer teachers opportunities to transfer negative feelings into useful, proactive teaching practices. Teachers and researchers, as storytellers or narrators, therefore, should be in touch with their emotions and experiences, and aware that these are conveyed in their stories or narratives. Of concern, though, is that the credibility of narrated stories has been put under scrutiny, since narrators may have reason to present a particular version of their emotions and experiences. Such awareness and concerns, related to feelings of storytellers, emotional power and credibility of narratives, I believe, have consequence for the process of co-construction of narratives and associated power dynamics, in this study.
It is generally acknowledged that educational research is conducted within wider social, political and historical contexts, and in particular, cultural and institutional contexts, such as classrooms and schools. As Gubrium and Holstein (2009) contend, texts of narrative accounts are just as important as their contexts. This study is no different. The following section, therefore, situates and contextualises this study.