Diciembre 19 Al inicio del año:

Before any data were 'collected' I applied for and was granted approval by the Research Ethics Committee of the College of Social Sciences at the University of Glasgow to conduct this ethnographic study. More importantly, however, I was aware that in the course of the research process practices or situations may arise which could potentially harm those involved in the research, whether directly or indirectly, intentionally or unintentionally, and that significant efforts would have to be made on my part to prevent this from happening. In this section I discuss some key ethical issues that emerged in the course of this research project.

A central concern in this study was securing the informed consent of individuals participating in the study. Initially, I had planned to obtain and document consent from research participants

in writing by letting them sign a written consent form. As this practice was unproblematic and successful in my two qualitative pre-studies, to this end, I prepared and - for those participants who did not speak English - also translated a form plus an information sheet about the study. In the early phase of the fieldwork I handed out information sheets to potential participants, for example, at Groundworks when introducing myself as a researcher to service users; when sitting in on one-to-one advice sessions at the organisation, the support worker and I also informed the clients orally at the beginning of the session that they could object to my presence. No client, however, expressed their objection. In general, it proved difficult to find the 'right timing' for talking people through the consent form as I only gradually came to know who the key informants would be. This problem was even more pronounced when getting to know people during participant observation in informal settings, for example, at a social gathering in someone's house when new individuals joined the meeting. It became apparent to me that obtaining signatures to 'prove' or 'document' consent amounted to an act of formalising a relationship which was just about to begin (or remain a fleeting contact) and introduced moments of awkwardness into otherwise fluid situations. This led me to the realisation that research ethics are not about rigidly adhering to standard codes of ethical conduct but orienting my research practice towards two key principles: one, that research participants are fully aware of the presence and interests of the researcher and of their rights to withdraw at any time; and two, that anonymity and confidentiality are maintained in order to avoid any harm to the participating individuals resulting from research activities in all stages from data creation to writing and publication (see also ASA 2011).

Regarding the first principle, I introduced myself as a researcher and explained my research topic whenever I met new people, and I informally asked individuals whether they wished to participate or not. Importantly, I assured the continuity of such consent by checking with them repeatedly throughout the research (for example, after a specific conversation) and reminding them that they could withdraw at any moment without giving any explanations. I was grateful that as many as 28 research informants opened up to me and invited me back multiple times for further conversations and meetings. When conducting expert interviews, I used consent forms as the more conventional interview situation provided a suitable setting for obtaining written consent.

As noted previously, ethical issues go beyond the stage of data 'collection' and reach into analysis, the writing of the ethnography and its publication or dissemination. Here again, the seemingly straightforward instruction to anonymise data so as to prevent identification and traceability and, with it, any potential negative consequences for informants proved more complex than initially thought. I have used pseudonyms for people, places and private/third sector organisations and have chosen more general descriptions for geographical locations (e.g. south Glasgow, city centre) and public sector organisations. Also, all empirical data have been kept stored on password-protected computers and safely archived in a lockable cabinet with nobody except me having access to the full material. Yet, some issues still remain(ed): someone who works with this group of migrants in Glasgow might, for example, recognize an organisation or place described. This presented a real dilemma: in very specific cases, absolute anonymity could not have been reached without distorting the data to an extent that it might compromise the accuracy and academic integrity of this study and the researcher. In those instances where a risk of traceability remained, no matter how small, I made participants aware of this risk and discussed possible implications with them; where potential consequences were considered too grave I have refrained from using this piece of information. More generally, any research involving migrants faces the ethical challenge of not contributing to existing forms and practices of essentialisation, stereotyping and stigmatisation (van Liempt and Bilger 2009). Amidst the current wave of anti-immigrant rhetoric and discourse in the media and politics in the UK, and a recent rise in hate crimes against Central and East European migrants across Britain (Burnett 2011), I have been highly conscious of the risk and real consequences of further stigmatisation that can arise from writing about the 'other'. The danger of fixing 'otherness' and (re)producing racialised difference in the process of my knowledge production was particularly high with regard to Roma participants when considering the history and degree of their persecution and marginalisation in their countries of origin and in the UK. During encounters in the field I placed great importance on being respectful and open in my dealings with individuals, which, for example, also included not 'pushing' further on issues that appeared to be painful or difficult to talk about or share for the informant. Furthermore, I have sought to counter these risks through the way in which I delineated the research group (as elaborated above in chapter 2, section 2.3.1) and by analytically exploring and emphasising heterogeneity within the research group. Moreover, in

several chapters I have analysed and tried to shed light on processes of ethnicisation and marginalisation, and I have actively questioned potential stereotyping practices in my own analysis and interpretations, for example, in the form of crude generalisations from individual to group characteristics.

2.7 Conclusion

This chapter has provided a condensed account of the research process of this study. In the first part, I presented the constructionist epistemology that informed the qualitative methodology adopted here. I subsequently discussed ethnography as a particular empirical strategy for studying the everyday negotiations of risks and insecurities amongst Slovak- and Czech-speaking migrants living in the city of Glasgow. Problematising ethnographic ways of knowing migrants' lives in contemporary societies, I located my study within the wider literature and debates on issues of methodological nationalism, representation, studying 'the other', and power relations. I then specified the boundaries of 'the field' by describing how the actual fieldwork was conducted at specific times and places. This included critical reflections on my various roles in the field. A discussion of how the data were produced and analysed followed, before concluding the chapter with a brief review of key ethical questions. Overall, the contribution of this chapter lies in making explicit a methodological approach that may serve as an example of how methodological nationalism and the ethnic lens can be overcome in migration research. The following empirical chapters present the main results of this intensive and sustained empirical engagement and research process.

Chapter 3: Employment insecurities as invisible traces of