Authenticity and Reflexivity

3.6.1. Epistemological Reflexivity

Ponterotto and Grieger (2007) highlight the importance of researchers being accountable for their perspective, when carrying out psychological qualitative research. At the centre of my training as a counselling psychologist is the principle of connecting dynamically with others experiences to try and grasp and acknowledge what this means to them. It is a process leaning strongly on shared views of meaning that may be symbolic in nature, as proposed by Blumer (1969) and Mead (1934). From this reference point, human beings are seen as constantly interacting with their environment, intentionally defining what they encounter, not just reacting, always in an evolving state of adjustment. Qualitative research is also about engaging meaningfully with another in an effort to use that emerging knowledge in a constructive way in their life (Corbin & Strauss, 2015). Therefore, my twin identities as counselling psychologist and researcher seem logically connected. While my critical realist ontological position called for a more distant view of the data at times, there was, also, an acknowledgement of my interaction with participants during interviews, which was mirrored in my epistemological stance.

As a scientist-practitioner I do not consider my view of people’s experiences to be precise, but trust that there is some semblance of usefulness in another’s reflective

85

perspective. In trying to get a near enough view, I tend towards adopting as uncontrived a position as I can, but am, nonetheless, aware that every interaction is infused with my own personal history and theoretical assumptions. Recognising this during the interview process, I aimed to ask questions impartially and tried to be non- judgemental and embracing of different experiences. Thoughtful reflection about this and supervision were used to address any presuppositions. I also clarified the meaning of certain words to sharpen my understanding of participants’ experiences and get as accurate a picture as possible, which is, also, a way of testing theory in grounded theory. However, when analysing the data, I attempted to reconcile interpreting it with describing what participants reported. As Willig (2012) says, in doing this, the challenge was to let the surprises in the data emerge, an important characteristic of qualitative research. Holding this tension between a post-positivist and constructivist worldview, was comparable to an artist developing a sense of when to zoom in or out from their subject matter.

Although I will not view language as being the sole determinant of how knowledge is created, I have, nevertheless, maintained a critical awareness of its function and limitations when analysing the data.

3.6.2. Personal Reflexivity

I reflected on how my own interests and beliefs may have added to the research process and influenced it (Charmaz, 2014; Willig, 2013). I have been a practising Christian since childhood and my worldview of how knowledge is created is significantly influenced by Christianity’s view of ‘truth’ as set out in the opening paragraphs of this chapter. This has been informed by my reading of the Bible, and many books written by various Christian authors and theologians, attending church meetings, as well as, ironically, a period of emotional pain due to an unforeseen event in my life, which has not been removed through prayer.

While doing my counselling psychology doctoral training I found a Christian psychologist, who could be my personal therapist, as I was looking for someone who would give me an experience of how to integrate psychology and my religious beliefs in clinical practice. I had not yet experienced this with other secular clinicians which had caused me some frustration. This reflected my interest in this area of applied psychology and led to the current research as I wanted to understand psychologist’s general reluctance to work with clients’ religious beliefs. It seemed to have a significant effect on my epistemological stance.

86

When conducting the interviews, I tried to stay open-minded, while trying to build rapport, yet staying mindful of the influence of my reactions. Kvale and Brinkmann (2009) explore the interviewer-interviewee relationship and how the participant’s view of the interviewer can dictate what they talk about. To address this they suggest that the interviewer places an emphasis on listening to participants narratives to facilitate engagement in the process. I tried to do this by interacting with the participants in a warm, informal way to minimise any hindrances between us and to emphasise the participants’ expert role and mine as being the listener. Nevertheless, as a Christian I am aware that, at times, I may have overidentified with some participants who share my faith and perhaps disidentified with those who do not. Therefore, my experience of practising a faith has been an essential part of my personal development and it is important for me to recognise my subjectivity in this regard.

In trying to embrace a qualitative research method, I was unsure about letting myself become so absorbed (and sometimes submerged!) in the research. I felt pulled to stay outside of the research and be completely objective. I eventually realized that getting lost in this process is an important feature of grounded theory. I learnt that the research process progresses side to side and step by step, working towards a more intricate, but fluid dance partnership between the researcher and the research, as Bott (2010) puts it, a ‘mutual exchange’ of give and take. Giving myself entry to the real experiences of the participants, my conviction is that the grounded theory was developed from their outlook and beliefs, so that the theory generated, was objectively subjective. However, being discernible as the researcher acknowledges this reciprocal process (Corbin, 2009) and, therefore, I have tried to be perceivable in order to help the reader see who I am in relation to the researched.

This research has meant a constant shifting of perspectives, on my part, as I have tried to view the data through various theoretical lenses. I have tried to embrace the uncertainty of reality that this presents and, also, obscurity of the transcendent, in this study, through writing memos and a reflexive journal (see excerpt in Appendix G), reminding myself to “stay open to the unexpected”. Being constantly nudged into an intrapersonal space of “not knowing”, has felt rather anxiety-provoking, like stepping off the edge of a mountain hoping that the parachute will open. Nevertheless, I am increasingly learning that holding some creative doubt about the how, if, when, where and who of it all, goes along with my religious belief in a free and loving God who works mysteriously and humbly and who wants to involve us in the process and outcome. For example, in one interview, I experienced a momentary loss for words, when the participant relayed a story about the mysterious appearance of butterflies,

87

outside the therapy room. The image of a developing butterfly has had a very significant meaning in my life, over many years and I felt deeply affirmed by a transcendent other in that moment. I reflected afterwards how the symbolic can disrupt any notion of people being separate and boundaried, since I felt unusually connected to that participant and his client through this collectively personal experience. There is a creative tension that is frequently captured in the symbolic and I caught a glimpse of how more than one view of reality can sit alongside the fundamental meaning of something and I agree with Corbin and Strauss’s (2008:270) observation that there are “multiple realities”. I also became aware of the chance of perhaps bringing something very new and interesting theoretically that would give expression to many unvoiced or unheard thoughts and feelings.

The Christian worldview of truth would comfortably embrace a constructivist approach to studying people, as Christ always paid great attention to hearing people’s unique life story. His interactions with people also reflected a deep awareness of how his contribution to this process could impact them and how others affected him personally, an important consideration when doing qualitative research (Willig, 2013). For example, there seemed to be a reciprocal apprehension between myself and participants during the interview process, at times. I felt a bit anxious and awkward, when I first started interviewing, if I am completely honest. I was meeting with psychologists all over Britain, with years of experience, training and research. I felt very much like the fledgling psychology trainee, with my notepad and audio recorder. However, from the start to the end of this data collection phase, with few exceptions, I sensed that my apprehension was, also, shared by the other. It was difficult to ask some questions, but it was, also difficult to answer them too. And so a parallel process became apparent, as psychologists sitting with me often felt like their clients who sat with them - unsure of what to share or disclose, how much to say, what was okay to share, and what may not be relevant to me. I often switched on the audio recorder again, after an interview was over, as sometimes participants would continue sharing, pondering further on the process. At times, it seemed like their reserve had dissipated by the time the interview was over, which was then followed by another level of reflection. At other times, their enthusiasm about the subject matter just bubbled over. This was an interesting parallel process that slowly emerged, leading to deeper reflection, guiding my responses; participants’ also shared some novel ideas which could inform my own clinical practice.

88

Not only was I touched by participants’ experiences, but, I was also challenged by their views. On a few occasions, I felt a bit taken aback when some participants strongly opposed the idea of further training being necessary on religion and spirituality, on counselling and clinical psychology courses. I was, initially, also surprised by participants’ very distant inclusion of religion and spirituality within their therapeutic practice. Nevertheless, turning the practice mirror towards myself, feeling a sense of discomfort, I could identify, as I had to acknowledge my own omission, in this area. It continually spurred a deeper exploration of the blending of my own spiritual and professional identities that, in turn, encouraged a renewed acceptance and better understanding of psychological practitioners who felt perplexed and confused at times.

While I initially felt quite daunted, there was something incredibly profound about watching the unfolding of participants own personal discoveries. Sometimes caught off-guard, participants were left with a sense that the experience had been valuable to them, and that some small change, had taken place. It was not unusual for someone to say, "You know, I never thought of it before, but..." and to go on and say later that the interview itself had evoked contemplation, exploration, or consideration of something new. I felt honoured and privileged that they were willing to share these deeper moments with me.