Experiences and Ethical Considerations

In the early months of my first year of PhD study an e-mail was received through my university account. The e-mail invited me to become a participant in research via a telephone interview, researching mothers who were in full- time, higher education. E-mail contact was made and I asked the researcher if it was possible to meet face-to-face once, as it was important to know with whom I was sharing personal information. The researcher refused, saying it was too far to travel even if we met halfway and that I could take or leave the offer to take part in her study. No correspondence was received outlining research information, ethical clearance or the chance to view consent forms prior to any interview. Nothing further was heard. This lack of respect and reciprocal engagement has made me more conscious of the comfort and safety of my own participants.

Ethical principles have been drawn from guidelines outlined by the British Educational Research Association [BERA] (2011), British Sociological Association [BSA] (2002) and from literature including Denzin and Lincoln (2008) and Mauthner et al. (2002). BERA (ibid.) and BSA (ibid.) guidelines, which commonly inform ethics and research governance, include gaining informed consent from every participant, respecting confidentiality through the use of pseudonyms and keeping the participant fully informed with

explicit details of the research. BERA (ibid.) and BSA (ibid.) guidelines have been followed for each and every participant. Where participants have come from within the academic community, I have reiterated that matters discussed are considered completely confidential, particularly when I may be conversing with mutual colleagues about my research. The only discussions that I may have had in respect of known participants will have been solely within the boundary of my confidential supervisory meetings. In one instance a participant chose to tell other colleagues that she was involved in my research, but she made this information public and I have continued to maintain total confidentiality. In the wider sense of ethical considerations, it has been made clear, both in conversations and going through the forms with participants prior to the interviews, that the right to withdraw remains available at all times.

All of the participants in this study are over the age of 18 years and able to give informed consent. This means that they were given sufficient information on which to base their decision, were mentally competent to make that decision, were free of pressure or coercion and understood that they could withdraw from the research at any time (BERA, 2011). Participants were made aware through the Participant Information Form given prior to each interview of the areas in which I intended to ask questions. This discussion included the subsequent use and purpose of the collected data. By following these guidelines, any potential risks to the participants were minimised and their rights were protected as far as possible, whilst remaining mindful of the need to protect my own safety as a lone researcher in the field and the reputation of the institution, Anglia Ruskin University (BSA, 2002).

Mauthner et al. (2002) also consider ethical implications in relation to using a feminist methodology. There was a danger of unearthing emotional responses and vulnerabilities that in-depth interviews and dealing with personal narratives and lived experiences can bring. Here literature around feminist ethics of care and Noddings’ (2003) ‘caring-for’ and ‘caring-about’ the participants’ well-being can be applied to researching within the feminist paradigm. This research is not only looking specifically at women’s access to

higher education, but also a wider understanding of women’s roles as individuals, females, daughters and/or mothers. The data aids identification and analysis of whether their female identities grounded their educational experience, important in addressing essentialist theories of women as carers and ultimately drawing on feminist ethics of care (Mauthner and Doucet, 1998). Consideration is also given as to whether women continue to seek equality in the home and workplace and remain the primary caregivers in childcare (Vincent and Ball, 2007). I engaged an active awareness to observe both verbal and non-verbal communication, in order to detect any emerging distress (Parr, 1998). This recognition maintained a constant re-negotiation of the consent of the participants (Miller and Bell, 2002) through interpreting nuances and cues to keep the participants at ease. I made a commitment, as far as was possible, to helping them to feel in control of the research process.

As an illustration, the eldest participant, Leigh, aged 76, requested her interview took place with her daughters present. It was initially hoped to speak to each of the mothers and daughters separately in order to gain as much insight into their narratives as possible without the influence or constraints of someone else listening to their answers. However, the interview with Leigh, Leanne and Leona took place at the same time to ensure Leigh’s comfort during the interview process. It may be possible that some personal detail was missed or not elaborated on, but the interview was secured and all involved commented on it being an enjoyable process. However, Leigh often allowed her daughters to answer questions and agreed with their answers, rather than expressing her own opinions. Leigh’s responses confirmed my belief that the interviews were best undertaken individually, supporting Rogers and Ludhra’s (2012) identification of the need for safe and confidential spaces in which to undertake research interviews.

Cairns (2009: 321) suggests that voice is only the entry point to disseminating research narratives and using a feminist methodology remains problematic due to the liberation of ‘shifting authority to those less powerful’, articulating the onerous responsibility on the researcher to interpret others’ voices to further knowledge production. Therefore, within the scope of this research, to

interview only daughters and not their mothers, or vice versa, would only provide a ‘here and now’ analysis of women’s access to higher education. The use of interviewing as a qualitative method has enabled a picture to emerge as to whether there are any similarities between the generations, in respect of access to higher education and subsequent familial support.

Early in the data collection process a further e-mail was received at my home address from a woman who was running a women’s support network for local businesswomen and professionals, inviting me to become a part of her group. The woman had obtained my details from a friend. After her initial e-mail, a statement had to be submitted outlining what I was hoping to get from the group. The woman was informed that I was a first year PhD research student and the intention was to get feedback from the all female group about my research ideas and subsequently provide support to the other members of the group with their activities. A curt reply was received, saying there was no place for ‘covert research’ within her group and the offer to join was no longer available.

An extract from my field notes explores the conversation that took place and the subsequent concerns over her apparent opinion of me:

‘I explained that there must have been some misunderstanding, that I had made her aware of the fact that my day-to-day life was as a doctoral researcher, and not that I wanted to research the women in the group in a covert way. I became aware of her defensiveness and the fact it suddenly became ‘her’ group and ‘her’ decision not to involve me. She also said that she had carried out research when she had undertaken her own Masters study and ‘understood’ my position. I was really concerned by the fact that she felt threatened by my potential presence, as I have always tried to make my intentions for my research as transparent as possible and she was implying a sense of mistrust that has never been leveled at me. I offered to meet with her, in order to make sure some sense of trust was established and discuss the ethical

procedures I was bound by, but again she declined, thanking me for taking the time to contact her, but a meeting was not necessary. I still feel I haven’t been vindicated for whatever was causing her to be anxious. I spoke with [friend], who had given the group leader my e- mail address in the first place, who was shocked at the response I’d received. She told me that the leader runs it very much as ‘her’ group’ and didn’t really consider it a women’s group at all, more of a networking for local businesses’. [Field notes, June 2011]

This scenario highlights the confusion and misunderstanding that often surrounds the topic of research and the difficulty of interpreting human responses (Denzin and Lincoln, 2008). Rogers and Ludhra (2012) explore the issues of hearing participants’ voices and incorporating their views to develop the research process in a way that is ethical and understanding of the participants’ well-being. I learned first-hand of the cynicism that often accompanies research and the need for personal contact to avoid the scenario I encountered. My belief is that the participants should maintain sufficient control within the research process to ensure their comfort and trust is maintained as far as is possible (ibid.). This e-mail interaction has been used to conceptualise more clearly my personal understanding of the research process (Silverman, 2000). This exchange is included to show how my own experience mediates my actions. The experience remained at the forefront of my mind as a reminder of how necessary it is for the researcher to develop a trustworthy relationship with her participants. Generally my field notes were a tool for personal reflection and do not form any part of this research.

Ethical considerations came to the fore during the interview with Anne. An excerpt from Anne’s narrative reveals the emotionally charged and intensively personal nature of her interview. Anne was a widow with a young son when she met her second husband. After they married, she adopted his children from his first marriage, including Annette, whose birth mother had died of cancer. Anne has been a teacher since leaving university, and began early retirement due to her illness. Anne’s narrative surrounding the period when her daughter Annette was looking at potential universities was

overshadowed by Anne undergoing treatment for cancer at the same time. She felt she had ‘let Annette down’ during this important period. This recollection caused her some upset and the offer was made to stop the interview immediately, but Anne was keen to keep going. This also highlighted how subject areas arise which are not connected to the research questions and to which the interviewer has to be responsive.

‘Anne: I actually came in as her Dad’s girlfriend. She was just looking for secondary education and I went around all the schools and I gave my opinion. I did not want her to go to that school because I didn’t think it was the right school for her and that she wouldn’t perform well there and [husband] said ‘she’s my daughter and she’s lost her Mum and she’s going with her friends’.

[…] Linda: So the transition to university, how did that work? Was there more listening to you at that point?

Anne: Right, that was very unfortunate because I had cancer. I spent a lot of time talking to her about different unis and she was, when I got cancer I went into school and talked to them … [starts to cry]

Linda: Are you alright, do you want to stop?

Anne: No, I’m OK, I just feel I’ve let her down [crying] … Those children have lost one Mum and my son who lost his Dad and then I put them all through it again. It has affected things, the biggest thing it has affected was the fact that my education, my years in education and my following education has all been closed door mostly, as far as [Annette] is concerned’. [Anne, mother]

Notwithstanding the obvious distress of re-living her period of cancer treatment, Annette’s interview is an example of the level of emotional capital inherent in the transition year to university. Emotional capital is bounded by the personal involvement and instinctive response to support those with whom you have an affective relationship (Reay, 2004b). Although he never referred specifically to emotional capital, Bourdieu (1998: 68) acknowledged

that the affective relation ‘falls more particularly to women’. Nowotny (1981) describes emotional capital as a commonly used tool with which to understand partners and children. Such personal and innate support for family or friends lacks the transferability of other forms of capital and therefore makes it difficult to measure (Reay, 2004b). The many references made by mothers of their help and support made it necessary to consider in depth the ways in which they supported the daughters towards their ‘process of becoming’ (Colley et al., 2003: 474, Vincent and Braun, 2013).

The intensive involvement exemplified through emotional capital in choices for children’s schooling highlights the contentious debate of the social construction of emotion as highly gendered. Illouz (1997) suggests that gendering women’s emotions in childrearing acts as a form of domination, to restrain women in the labour market. Yet studies find that men’s involvement in educational choices remain limited (including Lareau, 1989; Allatt, 1993; Reay, 1998b, 2004b). My own, brief findings in respect to fathers’ involvement in their daughters’ higher education choices are discussed in Chapter Six. Reay (2004b) argues that emotional capital does not differ by class, but reveals specific and personal instances, known only to each individual family. Allatt (1993: 143) and Lareau (1989) support Reay’s findings that irrespective of the possession of mothers’ economic, social and cultural capital, the emotional capital that mothers possess is amplified in the schooling process through a range of ‘emotionally valued assets and skills, love and affection, expenditure of time, care and concern’.

Anne’s narrative highlights many areas around her ownership of capital. She emphasised her husband’s dismissal of her cultural capital and her distress at not being able to support her daughter’s choice of schooling, but also the fraught and emotional labour encompassed with finding schools and universities. These important areas would not have been discussed if I had not encouraged Anne to expand on her experiences. Anne remarked after our interview that she had found it a positive experience to discuss something so

personal with someone who would ‘understand’. This highlights the importance of reflexivity within this research process and how the outcomes become beneficial in studies that embrace a feminist methodology, in the interests of both the researchers and the respondents.