The mother/researcher in blurred boundaries of a reflexive research process

Reference: Rogers, C. A. (2003) „The mother/researcher in blurred boundaries of a reflexive research process’, Auto/Biography XI (1&2) pp 47-54. The mother/researcher in blurred boundaries of a reflexive research process Abstract Researching from the inside out can be challenging yet a rewarding and valid process. This paper specifically engages with a reflexive research process as a feminist. I propose that there is space within sociological research for biographical interludes even though I still question where I am in this research process and should I even be there? This paper is about where „my selves‟ are in this research process among the mothers and fathers interviewed. Our common ground is that of parenting a child with learning difficulties. I identify with feminists, mothers, and parents and my narrative is similar to some of those who I have interviewed. I draw attention to these issues and remind others and myself that when you start the research process however many books on interviewing techniques and methodology you have read your own personal response to „others‟ narratives can affect your research process. The results of this paper illustrate both the difficulties and the advantages of researching from the „inside‟ in an attempt to move forward with this emotional/creative and illuminating methodology much varied knowledge can be gained about the gendered and differentiated social world. Introduction I‟m halfway through the fieldwork process and the phone rings. “Hello, is Christine there please?”. “Speaking…”, I reply, not recognising the voice on the other end of the phone. “It‟s Karen. You interviewed me last year!” “Oh hi”, I replied, embarrassed that I hadn‟t immediately remembered her. “I was wondering if you would like to meet for lunch to catch up?” she asked. “Is everything ok?” I said, without really thinking. I thought perhaps she wanted to meet with me as my researcher self! Maybe there was something I could do for her, or maybe there was some more information about her son who has Down‟s syndrome that would be useful for the research? I was only half right. She did want to talk about her son but she wanted to “catch up” as if we were old friends. We made an arrangement to meet at a local pub at a time that suited my already busy schedule. She wanted to know how my love life was, and what was going on in my daughter‟s life! I was both touched by this but also concerned. [Research journal: 2002]. What if all my participants wanted to “catch up”, how would I deal with that? Of course I knew in reality this was unlikely to happen but at the time it provoked in me a sense of concern about who I was to my participants (a „friend‟ perhaps?) and who they were to me (my participants and fellow parents who have a child or children with learning difficulties). All the relationships differed during the research process and I had to work 1 through these emotional quandaries. For here I want to concentrate on the story of the process and how that is told. Jane Ribbens qualifies and questions this process here: What of my sense of audience here and now: how have I decided what to include in my writing here, and how to present it to you? How have I arranged the pieces to develop an overall story? […] Perhaps you think I am neurotic and anxiety ridden, deeply lacking in self-confidence as a mother. Perhaps you think just the opposite, that I must be quite fundamentally confident to be able to write all of this down for a public audience, or that I am a wise fool who knows she‟s one (Ribbens, J. 1998:36). Ribbens (1998) research has spanned qualitative methodology, mothering and education within a feminist framework, and discusses motherhood autobiographically where she considers the difficulties of hearing her voice amongst the array of her mothers‟ voices. I too am very much embedded in my research, but as the process unfolds so do my many „selves‟. Within a reflexive research process as a feminist I encounter mothers and fathers who have some common experiences to myself. That is of parenting a child or children with learning difficulties. I wish to explain as a feminist sociologist that I did not simply find this research area to be interesting; I was in fact living it. My insight into this area of research was brought about by my own personal struggles, my sociological knowledge and my ability to apply that knowledge. This reflexive research process comes from the above knowledge applications, and the influences of feminist sociologists such as Oakley (1981) Reay (1996) and Ribbens (1998), and as feminists they raise questions about how to access, interpret, analyse and theorise research participants. Standpoint feminists, Smith (1988) and Hartsock (1998), and those commenting on it as Harding (1986, 1991, 1993) and Smart (1990) do, argue it is not simply the experience of women, but that the experience comes from struggle with oppression. As I understand it my reflexive journey has come 2 out of the development and recognition of many selves, of which will be discussed in more detail below, and the use of research journals and diary notes, as well as interview transcripts. I would argue that both Harding (1991, 1993) and Smart (1990) recognise the reflexive journey writers go through in a feminist research process and it is not a case whereby a researcher can always allocate a type of feminism within which they feel comfortable with and settle for that position. I certainly feel my research process began as an empiricist sociologist and as my feminism developed so did my feminist empiricist epistemology emerge (Harding 1993). However now as I grapple with standpoint and postmodern feminism, I continue to be reflexive in this methodological and theoretical journey in an attempt to understand Others lives sociologically. I would like to enter into a dialogue with this process and inform the reader of my journey of the self as a researcher. This paper will take the reader through the interview and participant observation process through my eyes with the help of my participants and then go on to discuss the „established‟ and „developing selves‟ that need to be recognised within this sociological reflexive journey. The process of a qualitative method At the beginning I thought this research would examine conflict and contradiction within education policy and how children with special educational needs (SEN) are assessed and provided for, because of my own difficult experiences with the educational process regarding my daughter. Whilst that remained a central focus it became obvious as I carried out more interviews that the parents were the driving force in this research and their experiences within the whole process of mothering/fathering a child or 3 children with learning difficulties. It may therefore seem that the education process became secondary in relation to the mothers and fathers narratives but it is so embedded in their experiences as a child reaches school age, it is difficult to separate these two processes in their own right. The Interviews I carried out 32 in-depth qualitative interviews with 19 mothers, 3 fathers, 1 mother/father combination and 1 mother/step-father combination in the South of England. All have children/young adults aged between 4 and 19 identified as having SEN. 13 of the parents were interviewed once and their interviews ranged from one and a half to three hours. 6 were interviewed twice, 2 were interviewed three times and 1 was interviewed six times. The Interviews whilst unstructured followed a life cycle approach, which attempted to keep the process chronological and thematic. Although I attempted “interactive interviewing” which Ellis et al (1997:121) introduce as a practice “for getting in-depth and intimate understandings of peoples experiences with emotionally charged and sensitive topics…” This however was not always successful, and as they say it “requires considerable time, multiple interview sessions, and attention to communication and emotions (IBID). In places this interactive and conversational style of interview method worked and much of that depended upon the participant expectations too, which is elaborated on below. With regards to the interviewing process the interviewer and interviewee are shaped in some way by the research process within qualitative research. What makes this research different is I am drawing out the reflexive and personal element to this process by using biographical interludes by way of research journals 4 and diary notes. I wanted to know what their experiences were. But sometimes my parents remind me of me, at different stages in my mothering process and I wasn‟t always comfortable with that because as I developed so too did my feelings towards my own emotions and how I dealt with them. Just because my mothers/fathers had some similar experiences to me it did not always mean they were interested in my particular story and therefore sometimes the interactive process was met with resistance. There was a period in the following interview where I offered my story but was met with little engagement of my story as illustrated here: Una who has a son of 18 and diagnosed with autistic spectrum disorder is at a residential college for young adults with special educational needs. She was explaining to me about how she noticed there were problems at the beginning. Una: At 10 weeks I couldn‟t breast-feed anymore. He couldn‟t suck. Christine: I had to give up after 4 weeks of breast-feeding. Una: And em… so he had a loose pyloric valve, he had a problem with colic, terrible colic, he‟d scream… scream… he must have been in agony…He had horrendous stools in his nappy and yes I did end up going to the doctors, the health visitor didn‟t understand why I wasn‟t feeding very well…But he didn‟t do what babies do at 4 months which is suddenly they find their hands, he didn‟t find his hands. Christine: Did you know this then? Una: No I just knew there was something wrong… … Once he started to walk… he didn‟t walk until he was 16 months, everything was within „normal‟ range! Christine: Yes my daughter was 18 months and even that was within „normal‟ range. Una: But he had no saving reflex. So he didn‟t save himself. … … And he cut his first tooth at 16 weeks! Really really early, really really early. Christine: My daughter‟s were really really early too! I mean everything else was late but she had a set of teeth at I don‟t know what age. Una: Yeah, I mean I suddenly realised he had toothache… [Una, Pp 13-14]. It is clear at this point in the interview Una did not respond to my story at all but continued with hers. In many ways we were speaking past each other. And yet we were still engaged in an interactive process during the interview as a whole. This extract highlights the fact that Una was in her story. And maybe rightly assumed that I was there to listen, rather than interjecting with my biography. It could therefore be argued 5 that I was the one who was stopping her from continuing with her story, after all that was the point of the interview! What this does highlight is that at times where similar referential experiences had taken place I interjected with my own memories. That is what makes an interview like a conversation but it also highlights the humanity of the interview process, which is no bad thing. In the following example it is clear there is an interactive interviewing process going on in the way of sharing experiences. Lynne has a son of 17 diagnosed with Asperger syndrome and actively asked about my story. Lynne: I think the worst point was… I think he was about 11 and he saw the ed psych at the primary school and I think we were coming up to the sensory test and then she actually put a figure on his IQ and that I think she said was about 70… 75, and I couldn‟t believe it. What‟s your daughter‟s… do you know? Christine: She‟s actually got an IQ of about 70. Lynne: 70? Christine: That‟s quite difficult to cope with… you just think… well I still believe that I‟m not sure about the IQ test… Lynne: Oh yes… Christine: And I don‟t know whether there‟s a certain amount that I don‟t want it to be right, or whether scientifically think that it‟s… you know… But she‟s got… one of the diagnosis is dyspraxia… and to be honest she displays most of the things that you read about dyspraxia… Lynne: Yes but that‟s not a cause and effect. She hasn‟t got any other diagnosis other than that? Christine: Dyslexia, dyspraxia… the LEA… Lynne: She‟s not on the autistic spectrum as far as you know? Christine: No that‟s never been discussed… because she‟s got language and she‟s quite sociable… Lynne: Oh right. Christine: To be honest that‟s one of the things that‟s held her together is she‟s quite sociable, but she‟s also had a lot of bullying, and been crying at home in bed…. Lynne: Mmm… Mmm… I think that was the worst point really because I‟d been reading quite a bit and I knew that you could have Downs syndrome and have an IQ of 70 and I just looked at her and said but kids with Downs syndrome… can have an IQ of 70… I just looked at her shocked. And she said Downs syndrome can have an IQ higher that that you know. Em… I wished I hadn‟t asked sometimes… Christine: I know it is one of those things that you‟re not really sure… [Lynne, Pp 9]. Whilst it was difficult to relive certain aspects, like being reminded of my daughters IQ score, my interpretation of this interaction with Lynne was for her to tell her story, and 6 she wanted to ask me about my experiences in an attempt to normalise her feelings, and I honestly answered her questions. It is clear here that we were sharing experiences and acknowledging each other‟s statements. The point being in these types of interactions I was forced into questioning my own history. This was painful at times and would spill into my life outside that of a researcher. Another example of sharing experiences during an interview with Brenda, a mother who has mild cerebral palsy and as a result some speech and language difficulties herself. Within this interview I felt it important to share my experiences not because she asked but because I wanted to ease the process. It wasn‟t always easy to understand her and she was upset at times. In this case I have decided to tell the story of the interview rather than simply give the reader the transcripts. My reasons for doing so are that by using diary notes and research journals I can set the scene and give the reader a flavour of this interview process (Ellis et al 1997, Ellis and Bochner 2000, and Sparkes 1994), which for me is part of the reflexive process; that process where I am constantly negotiating and re-negotiating my selves and my participants relationships. Brenda has a son who is 4 years old and has been assessed as having speech and language difficulties. We sat in Brenda‟s back garden and drank tea. It was a lovely day and there was an ivy canopy shading us. As she walked up the garden I thought she was going to spill the drinks as she carried the tray and was shaky but I didn‟t feel it was appropriate to intervene. […] I was asking her about her son and his schooling and she was adamant he wouldn‟t go if he had a choice. I ask „Do you know if he gets any teasing… bullying?‟ „No…‟ She paused. „I don‟t know‟ She pauses again. „He doesn‟t say‟ and then after another pause she changes the subject and says „I‟ve been to parents coffee mornings and things‟. She paused yet again and I chose to go with the change, „And how do you get on with the parents?‟ Brenda thinks for a moment and then explains „They‟re alright and not that sociable‟, she stopped to think and seemed quite angry. „But they get homework [the other children] nearly every day, and [my son] doesn‟t get hardly any‟. She paused and then said despondently „He still can‟t write his name and 7 they‟re all writing little sentences‟. „I know‟ it was my turn to pause and I really felt for her. I could totally understand why she was so frustrated and emotional. I wanted to share my difficulties in an attempt to help her to see she wasn‟t alone in those feelings. I began „I can sit here and reflect on all of that because [my daughter] is 14 and a half now and I remember what that was like. There wasn‟t an obvious problem‟, I paused, „She‟s progressing and I‟m sure that she‟ll be ok but I know it seems hopeless at your stage because kids of his age just go at such a pace and it hurts‟. I pause again not sure if this was for her benefit or mine [Diary notes 2001: Brenda, Pp 12]. I felt empathetic towards Brenda and wanted to ease some of that frustration but also I recalled some of the feelings I felt when going through similar emotions. I entered into a conversation and yet it was clear to me that I was interviewing. At the time I remember not really knowing what to do about her tears. The qualitative interview is not a counselling session and therefore must not be mistaken for this even though sometimes it may feel like that. However, the participant may at times use the interview, at the very least, as a cathartic experience. Ellis and Bochner (2000) in „Autoethnography, Personal narrative, Reflexivity‟ address these very issues when in discussion with one of Ellis‟s students: “So what will you do if an interviewee breaks down or if you see a place where you could be of help?” She looks at me, waiting for the answer, then murmurs, “I‟m not sure.” “What would you want someone in a similar situation to do for you if you were a research participant?” “Well, I‟d want them to understand where I was coming from… But isn‟t it true that not everybody can do good therapy? I mean most academics aren‟t trained therapists.” (754). They go on to explain that therapeutic training could be useful for the ethnographer, but that not all would want to, feel comfortable with, or be capable of dealing with this sort of emotionality (Ellis and Bochner: 2000). Sparkes in his life history research came across this very aspect and tells of how his participant recalls: I think by doing this, right now, right here, is almost therapy in a sense. By just talking to somebody. You don‟t actually need answers, it‟s just a process isn‟t it.” Several weeks later I received a card from Jessica that joked about the therapeutic dimensions of our interviews. While I do not see myself as a therapist, it would be foolish to deny that this element of out relationship remains (Sparkes 1993:171). 8 I did not feel that with Brenda I was particularly helpful but then if the interviewer has only one in-depth interview with the participant maybe it is an unrealistic goal to feel that I could have been more than the interviewer? In relation to qualitative interviewing reflexive accounts of how the research affects you as the researcher and participants is highlighted by Ellis et al (1997). In their research on bulimia, they sensitively approach the methodology and emotional experience. They revealed how difficult it was to negotiate the emotional processes that followed, especially when two of the researchers had eating disorders themselves. Hertz (1997) talking about „Reflexivity and Voice‟ says that “to make sense of what we observe or what people tell us, we may draw on the richness of our own experience, particularly if what we are studying we also have experienced. Parts of an interview may echo our own thoughts or prompt us to recall parts of our own lives” (Hertz 1997:xiii). Inside and outside: the „participant‟ observer I have carried out participant observation which consisted of two National Association of Special Educational Needs conferences (NASEN) one afasic conference (a conference for parents who have children with speech and language difficulties) coffee morning/support groups, a legal/advocacy training weekend, an inclusion steering group meeting, and a joint local authority/charity parents evening. I sometimes found it hard to decide whether I was there as a researcher or a parent. I quite often within this research wondered whether my role was that of a mother or a researcher and more often than not moved in and out of both roles, and find Harding‟s questions as a feminist quite reassuring: “What is the appropriate relationship between the researcher and her or his research subjects? Must the researcher be disinterested, dispassionate, and socially invisible to the subject?” (1991:109). My position clearly leans towards the passionate, 9 interested and visible researcher. What made my position different is that for me the passion is personal as well as political but still as a sociologist rather than a biographer. Finding your role within participant observation can be difficult, as I have discovered. Birch and Miller give an account of how Birch‟s role affected the dynamics of a group when she was attempting to explain her research and how this would be carried out. She felt uncomfortable with her position and struggled with this process. “Maxine [Birch] experienced tensions being a participant observer and found her self unable to perform the two competing roles” (2002: 98) [researcher and group member]. I found this to be the case especially with regards to the coffee mornings. I had hoped to complete participant observation at these informal support groups, however I began to realise that I did not want to „research‟ these mothers. They needed time to discuss their problems in a supportive and confidential environment. And I needed time to reflect with other mothers without being a researcher. At some of the conferences I attended I was often switching roles, between parent (daughter motivated), researcher (with professionals) and parent/researcher (with parents). An example of this is as follows: I was at an evening meeting for parents run by a local education authority (LEA) and a charity that support parents of children with SEN. We were put into smaller groups after an introduction and then given guidelines on what we were to be talk about. There were 10 family members in my group: A father, 8 mothers and a grandmother. Some of their children were in mainstream schools and some at special needs schools. One of the facilitators asked, “What would you all like to talk about then?” No one spoke initially. Then the father began by saying that “we ought to discuss parental 10 confidence as my confidence as a parent has diminished and that my son who has Down‟s syndrome had just started school with a statement of SEN had been allocated 25 hours of support. He had only been at the school for less than a term and we were told that the hours had been reduced to 20 hours. No consultations, no meeting, his hours were slashed”. He continued, “You‟re always fighting. If you stop you feel you will lose everything. I have no confidence, no trust. Things just happen with no consultation” [Research journal: 2002]. I was torn between keeping quiet and being in the role of „researcher‟ as an outsider, and actually being a participant. I decided to participate and said: “My child had been excluded in mainstream secondary school from certain activities such as assemblies, and a day trip.” I recalled “No one from the school had thought it necessary to involve me in the decision as to whether she should be included in these activities or not”. Others guffawed at what each of the parents were saying and nodding in agreement. This group discussion wasn‟t only charged with anger and frustration but with obvious pain as one mother was trying to hold back the tears whilst she spoke [Research journal: 2002]. That night on reflection I did not feel much like a parent and I felt in some way disentangled from the difficulties as if I had I learned to be a distanced researcher while sharing my experiences. As Oakley agues it is not easy or necessary to be uninvolved: It requires, further, that the mythology of „hygienic‟ research with its accompanying mystification of the researcher and the researched as objective instruments of data production be replaced by the recognition that personal involvement is more than dangerous bias – it is the condition under which people come to know each other and to admit others into their lives (1981: 58). Adler and Adler (1997) in „Parent-as-Researcher: The Politics of Researching in the Personal Life‟ discuss how in their research they are in different member groups, that of the parent member, the community member, the research member, effectively playing different roles and being seen as having different roles by „others‟. In their longitudinal ethnographic study of „children‟s worlds‟ they saw that the […] “Overlap between researchers‟ personal lives and research role invoke methodological, epistemological and ethical issues salient to contemporary ethnographers” (26). They then argue “the majority of the time we were able to integrate the research and the membership roles, 11 engaging in them simultaneously. […] In this endeavour, the parental role served as the base and the research flowed out of it” (33). Commitment to different membership roles may change at different stages in the research process. Adler and Adler (1997) found though that their commitment to the parental membership status was stronger than other membership roles, and this at times impacted on both them, and those around them, both in the family and those being researched, and not always positively. Occasionally they had to „lose‟ respondents due to their commitment to their parental role. At the stage of the first interview I was still under the illusion I could separate my different roles clearly, but as time went on, and as I reflected it became clear this was increasingly difficult and my roles or my selves would be woven into this research process as discussed in the next section. Continuing as a participant observer I recall how nervous I felt about addressing a large group of parents, and how these parents when asked about the possibility of talking to me about their experiences as illustrated below. It can sometimes be assumed that respondents are „used‟ as „objects‟ for an intellectual gaze without thought for their personal and emotional status. I would argue that the research process for them is often a positive part of their lives. Many wanted whole-heartedly to speak to me. It was April 2001 at the Afasic conference, (an annual conference for parents who have children with speech and language difficulties). There were 142 names on the attendance list of which most were mothers. 24 were men and the majority of them were fathers. In the opening discussion some parents asked questions and others shared their experiences with a view to give knowledge and reassurance to others in a similar position. I thought it would be a perfect time to let everyone know about my research hoping that they may want to share their experiences with me. So after summoning up enough courage I stuck up my hand shared some of my own experiences as a parent. I thought it was important they knew I was a parent. I was really nervous and my voice was cracking my hands shaking. I said that I was doing research in parenting children with special educational needs and if anyone would like to share their stories with me in the form of an interview for the research. There was a low level muttering and a couple of giggles and I heard one mother say, “You‟ll wish you never said that!!” and another 12 said, “I wonder if she knows what she‟s let herself in for”. Given the response I assumed that it was because many people wanted to talk. Throughout the day people were coming up to me and giving me their numbers and saying how useful they thought that this research would be and that „it would be nice for someone to listen to us for a change‟ [Research journal: 2001]. As Read (2000) in her research on families and disability writes “The majority of women expressed a great deal of interest and curiosity in the project and liked the idea of a study which listened to mothers‟ versions of their lives and recognized and respected their contribution” (17). On reflection I was a bit surprised and annoyed with myself for being so nervous, but I was laying my selves on the line. In this research both as an „insider‟ and an „outsider‟ there have been times when I have not really wanted to mingle and network. My own life and needs were more important at times even though I may not have always been conscious of this. Certainly Ellis et al (1997) also discovered that a subjective acknowledgment to the respondents‟ difficulties also affected how they would negotiate the process, and how they could protect their own emotionality from this process. It can be all too easy to think that because you are amongst the group of the researched; in my case a parent of a child with learning difficulties, that you have knowledge that goes beyond the research process. In theory this may be the case but in practice each story is different. I too have been shocked and at times upset by the difficult circumstances some parents‟ experience. It can be at times unpredictable and unexpected. The self, my selves and biography Where am I in this research process and should I be there? If my narrative is similar to some of these emerging from my interviews does this add to the research? There are problems of insider knowledge that can cover up or assume knowledge between the 13 researcher and his or her participant (Sparkes: 1994). My personal story emerges through struggle, political awareness and listening to the lives of mothers and fathers, which has influenced my emerging feminist process. But more importantly this research is about the mothers/fathers and their struggles. Whilst playing with masculinist traditional structures, I am not compromising the stories of my mothers or fathers sociologically for the sake of my biography. As with Ellis and Bochner in their research they believe there are more academics who „merge art and science‟, (2000:761) and Hobbs (1988) whose biography runs through his methodology adds to, not compromises the criminological work conducted on East London culture and the Metropolitan Police. See also Ellis et al, (1997), Ribbens (1998), Sparkes (1994) and Stanley (1993), all whom use biography and reflexivity successfully in their writing of the self within their research process. Hertz (1997) discusses in some depth the need for reflexivity in an attempt to shift our understanding of the data and its collection and therefore It is important to admit that we study things that trouble us or intrigue us, beginning from our own standpoints. But what makes writing about our lives social science and not a novel? How do we find the parallels in our experiences to make sociological sense of our own routines, or chaos for that matter? Do we need permission from family and friends to write their lives into the telling of our own? (xvi). Snapshots of the practical difficulties I have experienced are illustrated here. When my daughter was 10 years old, four years prior to this research, I elected to withdraw her from the official education system for a period of time. I taught her at home as well travelling with her for six months. This was because the local education authority wanted to place her in a school for children with moderate learning difficulties. I was horrified at the time as I did not think that she was „that bad‟. I was reminded of how I felt years later by my participants, which hurt! As Kerry (the mother I interviewed six 14 times and has two sons with SEN) exclaimed when she first encountered her son may go to a school for children with SEN I was gutted, absolutely gutted…. So I spoke to the special needs school and we had visited the special needs school which I was absolutely horrified at because I didn‟t feel Ian was that bad. Most of the children that I saw there were physically and mentally handicapped and most of them were Downs which as I‟ve said before I don‟t have a problem with and I think its probably a wonderful school but I think that socially that might affect Ian because the only thing that Ian has is speech and language and apart from that he is a normal child, and that worries me, it worries me, and that‟s not the fact that I don‟t want him to socialise with these children but it‟s to do with the fact that socially I think he needs normal children…[Kerry, Int 1 Pp 22]. Kerry again referred to this experience later on in the interview implying that this had a huge impact on her: When I first walked into the school I straightaway thought oh my God these are physically and mentally handicapped. Excuse the expression but they were dribbling, their eyes were rolling they were they were to my opinion an extreme, extreme case of problems, em… some of them were making noises, some of them were running all over the place and I found it quite frightening, what would Ian feel like …. Because its its not normal its not normal to any of us if were really honest and you know I do feel strongly that if every parent was honest with themselves and with other people they would not want their child that only has speech problems mixing with children like that [Kerry, Int 1 Pp 27]. What was difficult was that by the time I had reached this stage in my life I was already on my feminist reflexive journey and I would never have wanted to admit to feelings of such prejudice, and yet I remember going to the head of the local special needs school and saying that „it was a lovely school but I did not think my daughter would be well placed there (thinking my daughter would not „fit‟ in with „them‟)‟. No different from Kerry really. My daughter did end up back in the official education system, and I managed to get her into a local mainstream school but it did not really work for her due to the school size, fragmented curriculum, lack of staff knowledge (especially in the beginning) and bullying. She ended up in the first school I went to see a few years before with the 15 knowledge that it was probably the most appropriate place for her. With all of this biography in mind it could be argued that I was the gatekeeper within this research, because I was able to gain access to conferences, schools, meetings, and meet other parents, as a parent. If I had been researching something else even if I was passionate about it I would have needed a third party to negotiate the rules. In my case the transcripts may be left in places with questions and experiences omitted purely because the participant assumes my knowledge, and because the interview takes on the form of a conversation, I have left certain probing questions un-asked. One of the problems with having experience recognition between the participant and the interviewer is illustrated here, Lynne talks about her difficulties in dealing with „experts‟ language tells me, “I can remember saying to the speech therapist it‟s as if I‟m talking a different language and he has to repeat it because he‟s translating it. Know what I mean?” “Yeah…” I reply. [Lynne, Pp 2]. If I did not know what she meant, or I was not so „involved‟ in the conversational process then maybe I would have said to her, and many of my participants, “No I do not, could you explain please?” Or “yes I do but could you explain what you mean?”. Neither of which happened. Is that so bad? If I was not an insider then it is possible that my participants would not have got to the point of even suggesting I knew what they meant, and it would have been a different experience for example if a researcher without children had been conducting the research. Sparkes (1994) says that both he and his participant, a lesbian student teacher, were aware that the research would have taken a different form if she had been speaking to another lesbian researcher. He suggests that “Being interviewed by someone from the 16 same social category can lead to a glossing over of issues since similar experiences and assumptions are taken for granted” (170). Whilst Sparkes (1994) did have some very different experiences he also says: At a deep and personal level, I could relate to Jessica‟s sense of loss, [of her athletic status] her anger, her bewilderment – why me and not someone who never did any activity? – and to the consequent reactions that involved distancing herself from the world of PE and sport. I also had a history as a PE student and a PE teacher… These common experiences, particularly those associated with élite sports performance and injury, were significant reference points that provided us with a rich experiential vein to explore on those occasions when I met Jessica informally… (167). My reading of their (Sparkes and Jessica‟s) relationship developed over a considerable amount of time and did need nurturing. It would be much harder to penetrate the deeper levels of understanding had the research relationship taken place over one interview session as many of mine did. I do believe there to be a point of recognition between the participants and the researcher to carry out successful reflexive qualitative research. This is why there is an importance for biographical interludes and the awareness of self. Who is my established self that I bring to this research or “brought self” as Reinharz (1997) would have it? Reinharz (1997) reveals that she had approximately twenty different selves when she came to analyse her field notes. But my established selves going into the field were that of, a woman in her early thirties, a single mother, a parent of a teenager with learning difficulties, a support worker, a homeowner, a daughter, and a sister. My self as a funded sociologist, and my developing selves (those selves that developed during this process, and continue to develop) such as a reflexive female, a feminist and a listener, continued to affect this whole process. It is how I contend, experience and reflect upon these selves, as well as other selves, and negotiate my research material such as the 17 diaries and journals and interview transcripts during this qualitative journey that form a reflexive process. A Conclusion This research has been a difficult and yet rewarding project, and I have learned a great deal both sociologically and personally. However, even within feminist and reflexive research, while there is a growing literature on auto/biography (Stanley: 1992), autoethnography (Ellis and Bochner: 2000) and less than „conventional‟ ways of writing research there is still relatively little on the actual practicalities of the problem of managing the self when close to the research material. I not only mean experientially, but also how the researcher negotiates the close personal relationships with the research participants. I have moved away from the impersonal disimpassioned methods of interviewing and I have reviewed and illustrated research that has been carried out within a feminist and/or reflexive process as well as including my own biographical interludes. How does my reflexive research add to the literature in this field? What I have introduced here are ideas about those parents of children with learning difficulties who have helped me in this research with their own narratives, and by virtue of my biographical interludes I am included as a parent with a child with learning difficulties within this process. The story has unfolded whereby some of my participants react to me in the interview process often not only as interviewees but as confidants. Others see me more as an outsider and communicate with me as the interviewer. We sometimes shared experiences and my role as a researcher blurred into that of the parent-researcher. 18 I have at times felt the madness of such material so close to my heart and it has affected my personal life both positively and negatively. I have at times cried because of my own insecurities and reflections on mothering my daughter and what I could have done, and then at some of the mothers‟ difficult situations. This can be a difficult path and while I have no regrets some of the most difficult interview relationships were with those I spent the most time with. There were times when I did not agree with all that was said and it is here in the deep qualitative reflexive process that many sociologists would shy away from. Most do not want to appear vulnerable as this for many implies weakness. Ellis and Bochner (2000), on the other hand say, “[v]ulnerability can be scary, but it also can be the source of growth and understanding” (752). As a sociologist I have been trained to have some emotional distance from my research subjects, but found this aspect as times difficult and unnecessary (Ellis and Bochner: 2000). If reflexive and feminist researchers are able to continue and move forward with this emotional/creative and illuminating methodology much varied knowledge can be gained about the gendered and differentiated social world. Acknowledgements I would like to thank Eamonn Carrabine, Pam Cox and especially the third anonymous reviewer for their really helpful comments on earlier drafts. Special thanks go to my daughter and all of the parents who participated in this research. None of those mentioned though are responsible for any shortcomings that may appear in the paper. References Adler, P. and Adler, P. (1997) Parent-as-Researcher: The Politics of Researching in the Personal Life in Hertz, R. (Eds) Reflexivity and VOICE London: Sage Publications. 19 Birch, M. and Miller, T. 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