In-depth, focussed interviews

For the purposes of my enquiry, interviews were more suitable than other forms of data collection (such as group interviews or questionnaires) because my experience in the

reconnaissance study (see 3.9.1) had shown me that group interviews would not be fruitful in my setting, and questionnaires typically involve looking for answers to pre-set questions, which can lead to overlooking aspects of experiences

which do not fit into predetermined categories. I was looking for “insight and understanding” (Gillham, 2001)

rather than facts [3.25], so I decided that interviews

would yield data that was more suited to my purposes, since they allow for thicker, more illuminative

explorations of the participants’ lifeworlds. Thirdly, whilst there is some scepticism regarding the value and trustworthiness of interviews as a source of research data

(Alvesson, 2002), interviews are held to be the best way to find out about people’s lifeworlds and their experiences, because the open questions which typify interviewing elicit more extended and personalised responses than other methods (Brinkmann & Kvale, 2015). This allows the researcher to get as close as possible to the phenomenon (Seidman, 2013). Finally, the conversational elements inherent in an interview setting lead to “interplay between two

[3.25_{] When I embarked on my}

doctoral journey, I believed that research should be objective and seek to locate evidence to confirm a hypothesis. My reading of Seidman (2013:9), who asserts that the aim of in-depth interviewing “is not to test hypotheses, and not to “evaluate” as the term is normally used”, made me aware of the need to look at a phenomenon, rather than look for one. This was a key juncture in my transition to the research position I occupied later.

[3.24_{] Initially, I gave all the}

participants English pseudonyms as Chinese students often take an English name. However, it was pointed out to me that not all Chinese students do this, and that some may wish to take on a Chinese pseudonym. Consequently, from the middle of the main phase of the research I asked whether the students would prefer an English or Chinese pseudonym.

[3.23_{] This reflects the}

epistemological perspective of phenomenological and hermeneutic enquiry, in which the understanding gleaned from an interview is “not held to be ‘the truth’ – but [rather] to be ‘meaning-full’” (Smith et al., 2009:66).

people that … is negotiated and contextual” (Birks & Mills, 2010;56), thus creating a “construction site for knowledge” (Brinkmann & Kvale, op. cit., p7).

Once I had settled on using individual interviews, it was necessary to decide what type of individual interview to carry out, as there are a number of options available. I opted to employ “focused, in-depth interviews” (Taylor & Bogdan, 1998:88). These are less rigid than structured and semi-structured interviews, but, because they are focused, they are less likely to lose sight of the topic than fully unstructured interviews. In-depth, focused

interviews allow “the participants’ thoughts, feelings and experiences to drive the interview” (O’Donnell et al,, 2009) in a way that helps make sense of their lives (Birch & Miller, 2000), but also allow the interviewer to maintain a level of control over the direction the interview takes. Nonetheless, when I was less experienced as an interviewer, I found that some of the questions I asked did not marry up fully with the thrust of the enquiry, and some of the

participants did not always wish to engage with the same phenomena that I wished to explore. In later interviews, armed with more experience (and more confidence), I was able to build on the themes drawn from earlier interviews, and could align the questions more closely with the enquiry. In this sense, I was aiming for “expert openness” (Gillham, 2001:3), or “qualified naïveté” (Kvale, 2007:14), in which I had an a priori awareness of the nature of the

phenomenon, but no rigid script.

I ensured the questions I asked were concise and direct (see Appendix 7). This goes against some voices in the literature (e.g. Lee, 1993) who argue that interview questions should be long, since more words stimulate more recall, and the

time taken asking a long question allows the participants to formulate a response. My experience as an English- language teacher, however, has shown me that rambling questions, or two-part questions, can be complex to decode. I therefore ensured my questions were pithy, and consciously left thinking time (Cortazzi et al, 2011) after each question to allow participants to formulate

their responses [3.26]. This meant I avoided recasting

questions in the belief that the participants had not understood at the first time of asking.

[3.26_{] Being an English-language}

teacher, and having extensive experience working with Chinese post-graduate students, has equipped me with useful practical knowledge about communicating as easily as possible with my participants. However, initially, and conversely, this also raised some challenges with regard to my interviewer persona. I found it peculiar, at first, to shed some of the typical “interactional habits” (Smith et al., 2009:67) that I have acquired through experience, such as sharing my knowledge with participants when necessary, or wanting to step in and scaffold their understanding.

Gilgun (2008) and Seidman (2013) both advocate interviewing participants multiple times. Doing so, they argue, allows the researcher to build up a picture of the participants’ lifeworlds prior to the phenomenon, since “[w]ithout context, there is little possibility to explore the meaning of an experience” (Seidman, 2013:20). I therefore initially planned a three-interview series, in order to generate contextual knowledge around my participants’ experiences in the UK. I planned each of the three interviews to take a different focus, moving from more narrative and descriptive accounts to more analytic and evaluative orientations, as Smith et al. (2009) suggest, as this allows the researcher to draw out distinct types of information and forms of knowledge in successive interviews. This process, and the focuses therein, is summarised in Table 8, below:

Interview Focus Knowledge and information to elicit

1 Explores life

history

Aims to explore the participants’ lives up to the present time, with a slant towards the area of enquiry (which means that I explored my participants’ experience of studying prior to coming to the UK).

2 Explores current

lived experience.

Aims to explore the participants’ experience of transitioning to post-graduate study in the UK.

3 Weaves together

themes from interviews 1 and 2

Asks questions such as “Given what you said about a and b previously, how would you characterise/identify/explain c?”

Table 8: The planned three-interview series

However, in the field, it became apparent that a three-interview series was unsustainable, and in fact, only one participant, Shaun, met this schedule. Since post-graduate students are only on their courses for one year, and with universities generally only teaching in the first two terms of the year (see 2.6), it was too time-constricted to carry out three

interviews in the time available, for three reasons. Firstly, it was impossible to begin interviewing at the start of the academic year (in September/October) because there was too much start-of-programme activity taking place. I realised it was more productive to wait until November to carry out the first interview, when the start-of-year turmoil had alleviated and students were in a (relative) place of tranquillity. Secondly, students at the beginning of the year would be unlikely to be able to articulate (or even identify) the challenges they were facing, and I felt it was more conducive to wait until the middle of

the first term to interview students, as they were then more able to identify practices which they found challenging. Thirdly, the final interviews would have taken place in the

summer term, when participants were sitting final exams, or writing up dissertations. I therefore reduced the schedule to a two-interview series, which still avoids what

Chamberlain (2012) refers to as “drive-by” one-off interviews, but allowed me to explore my participants’ experiences within their wider lifeworlds. This permitted me to build up a holistic picture of their experiences in a way that a solitary interview could not because we had the opportunity to revisit themes in the second interview.

The interviews had a four-phase shape (Gillham, 2001), with each phase having a different focus and intensity, as clarified in Table 9, below:

Phase Focus: Characterised by:

1 The

introductory phase

In this phase of the first interview, the participant and I discussed the nature and purpose of the research and also how what they said would fit into the project. I gave the participant the Participant Information and Informed Consent Form (see Appendix 3), and discussed pseudonyms. In the second interview, this introductory phase was used to look back over the transcript of the first interview and allowed the participants to comment on anything they wished to clarify in more depth, or that they wished to redact.

2 The opening

phase

This unstructured phase allowed the participants to talk freely and get used to speaking in an interview setting in English. I asked general questions to put the participant more at ease and which tended to be biographical/descriptive in nature. I drew on my knowledge of working with non-native speakers in this respect: it is often useful to allow such participants to “warm up” by talking about familiar, often-rehearsed/discussed topics (such as their studies and their daily lives) before moving on to more evaluative and cognitively challenging topics (Dunne et al., 2005; Dowling & Brown, 2009). This phase also allowed for rapport to be

(re)established between the participant and myself.

3 The central

core

In this phase, I asked questions relating to my research questions. The participants were encouraged to highlight experiences which they felt to be of importance, and could avoid disclosing

potentially distressing subjects, should they so wish. Later in the project it became useful to spend time in the interviews asking participants how their subjective experience tallied up with that of earlier participants (“Other people have said x. How does this reflect your experience?”). This quasi-delphi technique (Pilcher et al., 2011) led to some rich seams of information, and allowed me to do two things: (1) compare experiences across the participants’ lifeworlds, and (2) identify divergences. This was where the hermeneutic circle (see 3.7.2) was commonly operationalised.

4 The closing

phase

Here, I summarised what had been said, asked if there were any initial corrections that the participant wished to make, and thanked the participant for taking part in the interview. I also summarised what would happen next, and when (i.e. that I would send the transcript, and, if this was the first interview, we discussed possible dates to meet again).

This four-phase shape was useful to me as a novice researcher, as it gave the interviews clarity and direction (Andrews, 2003; Charmaz, 2006). However, there is also a need to be sensitive to the way the interview is unfolding and to change tack as necessary in response to what emerges, so this structure was not rigid and the length and depth of the phases varied with each interview, and in reaction to what was said. Smith et al. (2009:58) are clear these “unexpected turns” are valuable and revelatory in an interview setting since they can often unearth aspects of the lifeworld that the researcher had

failed to attach importance to, but which may be vitally

important to the participant [3.27]. Each successive

interview helped me identify and whittle down themes to explore in later interviews; and allowed me to create what Holstein & Gubrium (1995, in Taylor & Bogdan, 1998:98) refer to as “knowledge-in-the-making”.

After each interview, participants audited the recordings and transcripts, so member

reflections (Gillham, 2001) on the data ensured that what was discussed was mutually agreed. This also allowed participants to “censor” (Etherington,

2004) aspects of the interviews, if they wished to do so. This mitigated some of the power imbalances which can

occur in interpretive research (Pillow, 2003) [3.28_],

allowing for a more “collaborative relationship”

(Williams & Morrow, 2009:579) between myself and my participants.

Despite the fact that some voices in the literature (e.g. Glaser, 1992, in Charmaz, 2006) advocate not recording interviews, I knew that I would be unable to recall, verbatim, critical aspects of the interview without some form of record. All interviews were,

therefore, video recorded and subsequently transcribed before I moved to analyse them: in 4.2, I clarify and rationalise my analytical framework.

[3.28_{] Of course, I have also to}

question whether they wanted to audit the recordings! Was I forcing this on them? Did they feel like they could say no? Is this a case of marking inequity under a “veneer of equitability”? (Pillow, 2003). I can account for what I did, but in some ways I can never be sure that it was right.

[3.27_{] This was, indeed, the case:}

for instance, it had not occurred to me prior to interviewing that transitioning to post-graduate study (see 2.6 and 4.5.5) would be a significant aspect of these participants’ experiences, and this went on to become one of the four key themes which underpin this project (see Chapter 2).