Narrative inquiry has many advantages and I have detailed these above (pages 31-34), but it also has its disadvantages. It tends to generate huge amounts of data and as a method both in terms of data collection and analysis is time-consuming. It is not suitable for large
numbers of participants for these reasons. The number of participants in my study was large for such a methodology and I have discussed this (see page 41), however, ethical reasons determined my decision to allow all volunteers to be included. In terms of data collection I was able to draw on my teaching experience to manage this number. The large amount of data generated did present a challenge however, the simultaneous
analysis/interpretation/representation method I developed rationalised these processes (see pages 67-72 for more detail).
In order to conduct a narrative inquiry it is necessary to enter the field and live the experience alongside the participants. This may not be possible for all researchers. My advantage here is that the research space is my work space and so it was not necessary for me to enter the field as I was already there. The disadvantage of this is that you can be too close to see. One criticism of narrative inquiry is that it can be ‘personal’ and ‘idiosyncratic’ (Xu and Connelly, 2010, p. 361). However, Xu and Connelly (2010, p. 361) argue that in practice narrative inquiry is simultaneously personal and social ‘moving back and forth along a personal/social continuum’. Reflexivity in terms of the researcher’s position in relation to the research is important here. However, this is not an entirely unproblematic process.
One of the criticisms of narrative inquiry is that the researcher’s position in relation to the research can have a significant impact on the process and that therefore the researcher needs to be transparent about their role and position in relation to the research
(Greenbank, 2003). This transparency, it is often suggested, is achieved through reflexive statements (Clandinin and Connelly, 2000; Polkinghorne, 2007; Riessman, 2008; Trahar,
76 2008). But reflexivity is not a straightforward, unproblematic process. In Pillow’s (2003, p. 186) critique of reflexive practice in research she highlights that the aims are unattainable:
‘Once the researcher knows herself, an other, and truth now she/he needs to transcend this’.
If language is not value-neutral and we can only reflect on that which we are aware,
ourselves, others, truth and transcendence remain elusive and can never be fully expressed through language. This does not mean that we should ignore reflexivity we must attempt to make explicit our values and endeavour to provide the reader with as much information about the research as possible in order for them to make their own judgement. However, we do this in the knowledge that these reflexive statements may enable readers to assess the influences on our research for themselves but that we run the risk of making our own voice, experiences and conclusions dominant (Greenbank, 2003).
In terms of the researcher’s influence it is important to note that narrative inquiry actively encourages the researcher’s involvement in the lifespace and so is distinct from other forms of research where the researcher seeks to minimise their influence (Xu and Connelly, 2010). Contrary to the “observer’s paradox” ‘the observer is treated as a natural part of the life space’ and so the researcher ‘inevitably influences the course of events in the life space. Trusting relationships grow over time and build as the researcher joins in with the flow of the life space’ (Xu and Connelly, 2010, p. 364). But Xu and Connelly (2010, p.365) stress that it is important to remember that narrative inquirers are not conducting ‘advocacy research’ and so the researcher must be careful not to ‘cajole … participants towards the researcher’s perceived desirable ends’. The sessions in which I gathered my data were part of an
initiative which existed independent of my research. The students were taking part in the MATES project and it was designed to encourage intercultural communication. However, I was careful to include stories the students told of their experiences outside of this project so that I gathered a wider picture of their experience and I was also careful to ensure that the meetings we had were student-led and I was an observer.
Further, criticisms of narrative inquiry are that it lacks generalisability, reliability and validity. I have discussed these issues previously (pages 50-55). However, generalisability, reliability and validity are not the goals of narrative research (Clandinin and Connelly, 2000) and so it
77 is inappropriate to use these criteria to judge such research. Rather narrative research seeks knowledge which is transferable, trustworthy and honest: can the reader see something of their own experience in the representations made available to them? Do they evoke the experience? However, I make further claims for my analysis, interpretation and
representationin that it allows multiple reader-interpretations, is non-hierarchical in terms of voice, evokes the students’ experiences, tells the story of my research journey and has
educationally relevant resonance for other practitioners. Do the poems invite multiple interpretations? Do they allow a variety of voices to exist side by side, rather than for one to be dominant? Do they evoke the experiences of the students? Do they tell the story of my research journey? Do they allow others to make connections to their own professional context? These questions act as a guide to the effectiveness of the methodological approach I chose, whilst also inviting active engagement on the part of the reader. In producing poetic representations of the data and by including my reflective notes I have sought to produce a polyphonic, heteroglossic text which allows multiple readings resisting the authority of the author. The students’ voices, mine and those from the literature are combined in the poetry providing the reader with an insight into the experience of those students, of my research journey, whilst hopefully allowing connections to the readers’ experience. Ultimately, however it is up to the individual reader to decide how closely the experiences represented resonate with their own, but in producing an open text I have endeavoured to provide the space for that engagement.
Whether the reader judges the poetry I have produced to be an honest and trustworthy representation of the data is an issue I have sought to address through the combination of rich data (Polkinghorne, 2007), prolonged immersion in the field (Clandinin and Connelly, 2000; Shijing, Connelly, and Phillion, 2007; Butler-Kisber, 2010), the building of trusting relationships with participants (Clandinin and Connelly, 2000), reflexive statements, inclusion of reflective diary entries and field notes (Butler-Kisber, 2010), a rigorous, reiterative process of getting to know the data (Clandinin and Connelly and Savin-Badin). Further, by using poetry as an openly personal and self-revealing form (Richardson, 1997) I have endeavoured to create trust between myself as the author and the reader enabling them to make their own judgement about the honesty and trustworthiness of my research.
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