Caso de uso

The insider researcher position entailed both advantages and disadvantages, but one must be aware of easy assumptions. For example, a researcher’s existing understanding as an insider - or familiarity, in ethnographic terms - of the culture or the 'field' of study can present an obstacle by blinding her to the object of study. Ethnographers have called for the need of insider-researchers to ‘make the familiar strange rather than the strange familiar’ (Van Maanen 1995: 20). Through ‘defamiliarisation’ or, what Bourdieu called, 'objectivation' (Bourdieu, 2003), the researcher ‘transforms and questions the implicit values’ of the object of study (Atkinson et al, 2003:36). In his ‘theory of practice’ (Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992) Bourdieu offered a series of analytical concepts to support this process. These ‘thinking tools’ include the notion of conceptualising, respectively, the social space as a distinct ‘field’ in which social actors jostle for different forms of power (Thomson, 2008), the everyday practices and internalised cultural dispositions of actors in this field as ‘habitus’ (Maton, 2008), and unstated and taken-for-granted beliefs as ‘doxa’

(Grenfell, 2008). Along with these concepts defamiliarisation was helped by relocating my

place of work from the organisation to my home, by reviewing the literature, undertaking data collection and analysis, writing up, and not least, the passage of time. Strathern (1981, cited in Atkinson et al, 2003:40) describes how ‘what started as a continuity [of shared worldviews] ended as a disjunction’. By becoming a researcher my role changed from that of a third sector practitioner to that of a knowledge producer (Bourdieu, 2003).

At the same time I experienced the ‘strangeness’ of the new ‘field’, habitus and doxa of academia, and its inherent dynamics with the third sector, in the field of knowledge production. I would argue, though, that my position remains one of marginality in the one and the other. Each field also set its own parameters for this research project, with its own set of rules, criteria and expectations. Reflexivity, therefore, played an integral part in all aspects and dimensions of my involvement with this research, its object, processes and outcomes from beginning to writing up, and probably beyond.

Another challenge was presented by my proximity and existing relationship to the research participants at the CVS. Here it was important to consider the micropolitics of work relations, and how these affected my new role as researcher, and my colleagues’

perceptions of me. So whilst it had been relatively easy for me to undertake interviews with outsiders and to make these empowering, my relationships with colleagues turned out to be far more complicated. In this case, the interviews were underpinned by the micro-politics of not only interpersonal relationships but of differences in positional power within the organisation.

As Freire (1970) and Westheimer and Kahne (2004) emphasised, the views of tutors were likely to have a significant bearing on the outcomes of active citizenship learning – which meant that an examination of their practice formed a core part of this case study. This required a deeper and potentially more critical understanding of their work. Also, their participation in the research was mandatory rather than voluntary, compared with that of 'learner participants'. Amongst the information I wanted to obtain from them was their perspective on active citizenship and how they saw their role as tutor, and what learning strategies and methods they specifically employed. These were challenging questions as they required the tutors to reflect as practitioners (Schoen, 1983) in their interviews with me, and in several informal encounters or email correspondence with me.

For the first time, also, I requested to observe the tutors’ classes. The different responses to this request – acquiescence from one and outright refusal from the other (the third, Tutor A had retired by then) – reflected not only my relationships with them but also their respective position in the organisation. While Tutor A had recently retired, Tutor B had taken over her work as coordinator and lead tutor, so her role was permanent, whereas Tutor C was employed only for the duration of the TPP and had no guaranteed job beyond the current contract. All tutors were very committed to their work and enjoyed teaching in this environment and developing courses, but they were also used to working quite

independently. In addition, the Take Part tutor (Tutor C) had demanding targets to deliver, which resulted in some considerable pressure, with additional stress arising from staff absences and changes within the small Take Part team. My relationship with this tutor was more strained from having tried previously to coordinate her work, which she had

resented as interfering.

There were, then, some underlying tensions and agendas that were played out in more or less subtle ways. Tutor C thus acted as gatekeeper to learners and did not seem to have encouraged their participation in the research, and she refused to allow me to observe her classes, and I even struggled to take part in some civic sessions as a member of the public.

I also felt that in her first interview she had tried to prove to me her professional competence by talking almost exclusively about successful parts of her work. However, when I returned to the interview recording a year or more later, I realised that despite this evident attempt at manipulation, she had given me a good insight into her perspective, whatever her agendas had been. This insight was expanded on through a second interview with her which took place at the end of the Take Part project, when our relationship had been improved. Nevertheless, it was obvious and understandable in my interviews with tutors that each, in their own way, seemed to have used the interview as a way of communicating certain messages via me to the Chief Executive in the organisation, since they knew that my research activities were managed by him. The question of trust and confidentiality were, therefore, far more complicated than it might have been for an outsider researcher. And I was often reminded of my duty of care towards all research participants.

I can only guess how colleagues perceived the research, and whether and how their perception of it changed over time. But from start of the interviews I was able to share

with CVS staff some quotes from learners, and since these were either very complimentary or included constructive suggestions (for example on how to reach learners more

effectively) colleagues could better appreciate the value of the research, or in some cases at least, that it did not jeopardise their position. The research activities were managed flexibly, and any temporary setbacks created by obstructions, such as those mentioned above did not impede or impoverish the data; rather, these resistances brought to the fore additional issues and led to new insights. Nevertheless, I believe that the benefits of being an insider, in this case at least, far outweighed the disadvantages, and it required a great deal of reflexivity, patience and tenacity in the researcher, as well as good management in the organisation, and support from the university partner.