Ethical Considerations and Moral Commitment to the Presence of Others

In conducting this research project important ethical issues were addressed and adhered to. I carefully considered the implications that involvement might have for both voluntary participants, such as my critical readers, and other less explicit participants, such as the students and staff members that necessarily became part of my stories of experience. Tsang (2000, cited Sparkes, 2002) reminded me that ‘a story of myself, of my identity necessarily involves and depends upon a story of the other too. So these stories belong to them as well (albeit not in the same way or invoked with the same power’ (p. 217). This statement implies the need to carefully consider and respect the presence of others in making decisions about

how data is collected and how final reports are constructed. I address these issues in this section.

The presence of others was important to the ethical considerations and decisions I made about methods of analysis and interpretation. Sparkes (2002) commented that ‘even though individuals may largely control the process of recalling and interpreting past events, this process is also a social activity influenced by people with whom the individual interacts’ (p.216). This statement influenced both the manner in which I crafted my stories, as well as how I understood that my work was not solely about or even by me. Teaching Daze, in many ways, was a collaborative research project, involving and being shaped by the place of others in my personal and professional life, as they became characters and co- investigators in my research journey.

I was committed to establishing and maintaining conversations with participants throughout this project. This included the decision to use critical readers to help open up my initial data (my teaching journal) and then the decision to approach three beginning teachers to read the final stories (see Chapter 10). Ongoing dialogue was important to ensure that I allowed others a say in how they were portrayed. This meant that interview transcripts were given to critical readers. I conducted a follow-up interview to document their response. However, the shape of the final dissertation was ultimately my responsibility, and one that my critical readers, colleagues and school (on behalf of my students) trusted me to construct.

In crafting my final dissertation I was committed to developing my chosen field of research – beginning teaching. This meant that my work was never to be at the expense of anyone’s professional reputation. Anonymity was a crucial factor in removing the focus from the lived experience of others. This included the use of pseudonyms, but also the changing of some characters’ gender to increase anonymity and focus on their behaviour rather than their identity. I strove to ensure the focus of my work, at all stages, was on my multi-layered experience and interpretations of that experience.

In investigating my first year of teaching I was conscious of showing empathy, particularly in relation to the methodological decisions I made. This required me to be explicit and accountable for the presence of others in my work (Banks & Banks, 1998; Ellis, 2000; Richardson, 2000; Sparkes, 2002).

I constructed this thesis with the aim of respecting the lives of others. This related to both the process of collecting and interpreting data, but also impacted on how and why I chose to portray others in the writing stages of this project, and ultimately, how they were portrayed in the final dissertation. Denzin (2000) emphasised that the practice of writing is never an innocent act. The use of a writing journal to record how and why I made particular textual decisions, as well as recording my feelings during the lengthy writing stages, was my method of providing myself with a form of self data - to allow me to reflexively acknowledge and highlight my biases what I chose to include and what I chose to leave out, as well as why I shaped stories and the final dissertation in the way that I did. These decisions are outlined in later sections.

Reflexivity in Teaching Daze is evidenced by the layered structure of the chapters in Part Two. The chapters (‘Sunday’ through ‘Saturday’) contain three different types of texts – stories, fictional conversations and poetic realisations. These are described and explained later in this chapter. However, at this point I wish to emphasis that my use of layering was intended to present a rich and reflexive portrayal of my growing understandings of my first year of teaching. The chapters were shaped to demonstrate that self-knowledge is partial, situated and transient. Banks and Banks (1998) reminded me that ‘there’s no such thing as ahistorical or nonpolitical texts, and the role, perceptions, and experiences of the author must be assessed along with the claims of a text’ (p.14). Hence, my inclusion of a personal portrait early in the dissertation (see 1.3 ‘A Personal Positioning’), so as to give the reader a sense of the narrator as the main character in the telling of this tale – her social, cultural and personal background, my biases and predispositions.

I recognised that while I had the daunting task of investigating my own lived experience, this necessarily implicated the lived experience of others, and perhaps

even more dauntingly, their lived experience as it existed in my perceptions and interpretations. This is because ‘no text is free of self-conscious constructions’ (Banks & Banks, 1998, p.13). This was an important responsibility, and one that I accepted accountability for, in terms of being obliged to be able to give explicit explanations. The ethical merit of autoethnography is often at the forefront of judgement criteria for such research. Bochner (2000) stated that he holds the ‘author to a demanding standard of ethical-self-consciousness. I want the writer to show concern for how other people are part of the teller’s story’ (p.271). I employed specific strategies to address issues of moral and ethical consideration. These included my explicit goal to be open and direct with the main characters of my stories. My school community was aware of my doctoral research, the topic and methodology.

I consciously and explicitly practised what I saw as my commitment to ensuring that no one was harmed through this research process, whether emotionally or professionally damaged by narrow or unnecessary/unfounded criticism. In responding to claims that autoethnographic research is ‘self-indulgent’ Sparkes (2002) offered alternate concepts such as ‘self-respectful’, ‘self-sacrificing’ and ‘self-luminous’ (p.213). Such rephrasing shifts the focus of the work from being overly focused on the researcher’s methods and writing to the needs of all involved. He defines ‘self-sacrificing’ in autoethnography as ‘forgoing one’s own good for the sake of others’ (p.213). I undertook this research striving for hope, for the wider community that I was investigating (beginning teachers), for those who participated generously by giving up their time and sharing their enthusiasm for my work, and for my self. I believe that the claim of ‘self-indulgence’ implies a lack of consideration for others at the luxury of the self. I saw my research project as a means of contributing to my profession that I cared about and as a rich source of professional development.

This did not mean that I avoided confronting difficult or unpleasant scenarios and situations. Reflection, multiple perspectives, ongoing critical conversations, use of pseudonyms and assurance of anonymity, and advise from my supervisors, were strategies that I used to ensure that the lives of others were treated respectfully,

but also with the essence of truth about how this interaction affected me. The use of arts-influenced methods of inquiry, such as fictional writing strategies like storytelling, poetic representation, and constructed fictional conversations, allowed me to move beyond specific identities, and focus on the specific issue being explored. Morrison (1998, cited Sparkes, 2002) noted that ‘confessionalism has to know when to hold back… It takes art. Without art, confessionalism is masterbation. Only with art does it become empathy’ (p.215). The artistic qualities of this dissertation, then, gave me the forum in which to explore lived experience with consideration for the needs of others necessarily involved.

Over the six years of this research I employed specific methods to address ethical issues, and to insure the informed and willing involvement of others. An information sheet [Appendix 1] was distributed to my school, the school community, and those particularly close to the work such as staff members within my department. I was therefore trusted and given ethical permission to portray others, as Ellis (2000) highlighted is a crucial factor in the moral quality of autoethnographic research.

The ‘woven’ nature of this work meant that others were pulled into the text as topics of discussion, critical readers of data or the crafted teaching stories, or personally as people who offered comment on my teaching days such as my family and friends. Many of them participated knowingly and gave informed consent [Appendix 2] but, as stated, some participated unknowingly as minor characters or asides, hence anonymity was an important aspect to ensure their privacy. Thus my experience mirrored the work of qualitative researchers such as Flemons & Green (2002) who wrote that ‘you try to write yourself into a space that we live in, and this space has other people in it, other people reacting to us. And so it does become a very social process’ (p.168).

The focus of the research was explicitly my own experience of beginning teaching. I was the ‘subject’ of the inquiry, and hence the principal of White School approved the research project on this basis. This focus shaped data collection, analysis and representation.

I ensured the anonymity of the ‘others’ in this work through the use of pseudonyms and the appropriate handling of the raw data such as my teaching journal and interview transcripts. In the year following my first year of teaching, all names in my teaching journal (which was electronically maintained) were changed to pseudonyms. My research supervisors are named, however, because they are formally and publicly co-researchers in this story. Likewise, many participants became involved because of the woven personal stories that have become intertwined in this work. To those who know me, the voices of my family members will be clear.

Materials, such as interview tapes and printed transcripts, were securely stored in lockable filing cabinets at the university. The interviews that were conducted during stage 2 of this project were fully transcribed and each interviewee was given a pseudonym. The student and staff characters in the teaching stories created in stage 3 were also given pseudonyms, as were the beginning teachers interviewed for the closing chapters in the final stages. To increase the level of anonymity, where appropriate, the sex of some characters was changed to ensure that the focus was on the issue being discussed and the behaviour being explored, rather than any detective-like need to work out ‘who it really was’. In this work I understood that I was responsible for guaranteeing that any risk taken in conducting this research and participating in the inquiry was solely mine. I strove to minimize negative repercussions for others involved.

Another factor that restricts the likelihood of identifying particular real life characters is the length of time between when data was collected and the completion of the dissertation. Time is an important element in creating a distant and protected space for the sharing of this work. The students have long since left the school and would no longer be as recognisable in the current context of the White School community. This applies to many of the staff members as well. The constant movement of bodies through school days allows for a blending of faces so that particular personalities are protected from being unnecessarily identified.

Once again, the main character in Teaching Days was always me and my experiences. I take full responsibility for the creation of this work and the inconsistencies, hypocrisies, and underpinning beliefs implied in this textual construction, recognising, as Richardson (2000) did that ‘ethnography is always situated in human activity, bearing both the strengths and limitations of human perceptions and feelings’ (p.254). The perceptions, realisations, and ultimate recommendations are mine.

This research project, although described as a quilted project, can be described as happening over a number of linear stages. I have labelled these: Stage 1 – data collection (2000); Stage 2 – data analysis (2001-2002); Stage 3 – writing as re- creation (2003); Stage 4 – writing as inquiry (2003); Stage 5 – evoking meaning (2004); Stage 6 – constructing a quilted research text (2004-2006). I elaborate on what happened and why during these stages in the following sections.