Leaving the Field

The process of leaving the field in ethnographic research is often not given the attention it deserves within research methods or ethnographic textbooks. When it is addressed, the process is usually framed around methodological roboticism and principles such as data saturation, deadlines, or funding restrictions (Smith & Atkinson, 2017). As participants in a research setting, however, ethnographers engage to a greater or lesser degree in physical, social and psychological involvement and often develop close bonds and friendships with those they are researching, which makes leaving the field a more complex process than simply packing away our notepads and voice recorders. This was very much the case for me. As I came to know the swimmers and coaches better through each subsequent immersion, I developed a greater level of emotional connectedness to them and the cultural practices of the ANP Swimming programme. Through their acceptance of me, I became part of their swimming experience, playing a small role in their development by lending an ear to listen to their thoughts and feelings, or offering a word or two of advice and encouragement where needed. In other words, the swimmers’ and my experiences became intersubjectively and intercorporeally entangled or enmeshed (Ingold, 2007, 2008) co-producing the research through an engagement with the field. Each time I returned between immersions to visit, with a view of maintaining relationships and dialogue, the swimmers asked if I was back for another few weeks, only for us all to be disappointed when I said it was just a ‘flying visit’ for that one session.

Additionally, with my previous experience of swimming coaching and my continued interest in the sport and the discipline of coaching more generally, this ethnography

110 became more than just a study of the swimmers to me. It became a learning experience, where I developed additional skills in terms of working with senior performance swimmers, coaches, and staff in an environment with which I was unfamiliar. These moments therefore affected me not just as a researcher but also as a person and a swimming coach. Breaking these physical and emotional attachments, and withdrawing from the field to the grey, uninspiring, windowless, dungeon of an office that I occupied, was therefore something that I found extremely challenging and left me feeling a little lost each time it occurred. I had developed a sense of ‘embodied empathy’ (Pink, 2011) with the other people involved and my ‘dis-emplacement’ from the field and ‘corporeal re-habituation’ (Smith & Atkinson, 2017, p. 637) to the office was not entirely a ‘clean break’. I found myself following (and still following to this day) the exploits of the programme and the swimmers via text messages or emails with the coaches, the team’s twitter page, and live streams and result sheets from events where the swimmers had been competing. It should, however, be cautioned that over empathizing with participants can lead to other dangers, especially if researchers seek to or begin to ‘merge’ with participants. Avoiding such mergers is important in maintaining a level of ‘difference’ from, and therefore respecting others’ experiences and perspectives (Owton & Allen-Collinson, 2014). This process of gradual detachment became easier as my day-to-day involvement with the programme ceased and I found myself in a more distanced position from where I could begin to select which aspects of the swimmers’ experiences were most salient to answer my research questions. By the end of my third immersion, my time experiencing what the swimmers, coaches and staff experienced was completed, seeing me depart from my role within the physical culture of ANP Swimming, to a role with the responsibility of representing the lived experiences of those so heavily involved in that particular physical culture.

Detachment from the field is therefore never a clean, precise, or simple methodological process but involves the disentanglement of oneself from place and people (Smith & Atkinson, 2017); a process that is never fully completed as we always carry a part of the places, and people we encounter with us in memories and our research. My transition out of the field was thus characterised by three interrelating elements. Firstly, it placed me back into a position of an outsider to ANP Swimming, although not the same outsider as when I started this project, due to the experiences, knowledge and connections I had

111 amassed. Upon further reflection, it also became apparent to me that this transition period was marked by more than just my leaving of ANP Swimming. I have been involved in swimming from a very young age, and this leaving of ANP Swimming felt like I was leaving a part of my life behind, placing me into a liminal state between my former swimming self and a future academic self. It is therefore perhaps unsurprising that associated with this transition, I was faced with an emotional rollercoaster that went from the energy and excitement of following the twists and turns of a performance sport environment, to working my way around the feelings of loss and withdrawal, where I can quite honestly say I was difficult to be around for a few days. And finally, having eventually regained some perspective about my transition from field-worker to desk-worker, I was able to begin the processes required in the analysis and writing of this text. This methodological step was initially aided by a five-month relocation to Copenhagen as part of my dual degree, providing a fresh outlook and approach as well undertaking a number of visits back to ANP Swimming in order to maintain a connection to the field and its actors. This process was undertaken so that my writing did not become disembodied from the place and people whose stories I was attempting to portray. It is to these analytical and representational processes that I now turn.