Chapter 4: Research Methodology
4.5 Research site selection
As Hammersley and Atkinson (2007) point out, prior to the commencement of ethnographic fieldwork the researcher is not in a position to specify the precise nature of the setting required: “…it is a matter of identifying the sorts of location that would be most appropriate for investigation of the research problem” (p.29). Obviously, I wanted to conduct my study in public elementary schools, but pragmatic considerations meant that the schools had to be geographically accessible and fit my work schedule at the university where I am employed. This in turn limited me to schools in a radius of approximately ninety-minute driving time, that conducted their foreign language activity classes on Thursdays and Fridays (the days when I did not have any university classes scheduled). Working on a proposed schedule of one school visit a week, each month, over a two-year period gave me a figure of four schools. In addition, to achieve a certain amount of variability in the data I collected, I required a mix of urban and rural schools, with different socio- economic catchment areas, in different municipalities, and schools with large and small student numbers.
In establishing these criteria, I was undertaking a form of purposeful sampling16 whereby my intention was to find a sample “from which the most can be learned” (Merriam, 2009: 77), what Patton (2002) describes as “selecting information-rich cases for in-depth study” (p.264). More
specifically I undertook a combination of criterion sampling “where the cases meet predetermined criteria” (Duff, 2008: 115), and typical sampling (Creswell, 2009), where the site is selected because it “reflects the average person, situation, or instance of the phenomenon of interest” (Merriam, 2009: 77). As such the chosen site is presumed to be “not in any major way atypical, extreme, deviant, or intensely unusual” (Patton, 2002: 236).
My sampling frame consisted of 41 elementary schools which met the criteria outlined above. School location, teacher and student numbers, and classes were obtained from the Hokkaido Prefectural Board of Education’s homepage. At the time of my study in Hokkaido the average school size (based on the number of students) was 117 in rural areas, and 359 in urban areas (Hokkaido Board of Education, 2011), the designations ‘rural’ and ‘urban’ being based on prefectural definitions17. In seeking typical samples, I therefore used the average number of students as my referent while location and socio-economic catchment18 area were further determining variables. This resulted in a list of 17 potential schools from which an initial six were contacted (see the following section) and four schools agreed to participate.
4.5.1 Accessing the field
My initial entrance into the field in April 2011 was facilitated by my wife. Pragmatic considerations, what Hammersley and Atkinson (2007) describe as “drawing on intra- and inter- personal resources” (p.41), prompted me to consider my wife’s then school (Chaiiro) as a potential research site (the school also met the sampling criteria I outlined in section 4.5). On my behalf she arranged a meeting with the vice-principal and briefed him on the background to my research. In doing this she was acting as my ‘informal sponsor’ (Hammersley & Atkinson, 2007), vouchsafing for my professional credibility and ethical responsibility. In approaching the vice-principal, rather than the principal of the school, she was also highlighting the former’s role as ‘gatekeeper’.
I had met and talked with the vice-principal several times before (while my wife was in hospital for an extended period), so we were already acquainted. He was quite receptive to my request and, after discussing the matter with the principal, agreed to my conducting classroom observations in the school. Prior to commencing my fieldwork, the vice-principal also introduced me to the the teachers in charge of the 5th and 6th grade students and explained the nature of my research. While the vice-principal’s cooperation was immensely beneficial, I was also concerned that the teachers may have considered his ‘official’ explanation (as their vice-principal) as subtly coercive in that they
17 In Hokkaido municipalities are defined as either shi ‘city’, machi ‘town’, or mura ‘village’. Although these
denominations are primarily demographically based, some are also the residue of historical designations which local governments, despite a steep decline in population, are loathe to alter as it affects the amount of subsidies they received from both the prefectural and national government. See Seaton (2010) for a more comprehensive explanation.
18 Socio-economic catchment area was determined by using the annual land price register published by the Ministry of
Land Transport and Industry. In addition, I undertook a ‘drive around’ of the areas using housing type and quality as an approximate indicator, a method also employed by Gordon (2009) in his ethnographic study of immigrant children residing in Hamomatsu, where he noted that “changes in the terrain as well as variation in homes … clearly distinguishes
had no choice but to acquiesce to my presence in their classrooms (see also section 4.8 on ethical considerations concerning my research).
Gaining access to this first school considerably expedited gaining access to the subsequent schools. Having identified their gatekeeper role, I now knew to contact the vice-principal rather than the principal in each of the schools. Furthermore, the participation of Chairo school was invaluable in establishing my ‘researcher legitimacy’ (Morse, 2003). In addition, I also drew upon the ‘occupational networks’ (Cassell, 1988) that linked the schools to facilitate my access negotiations. When I contacted each of the subsequent schools and met with the vice-principals, I made the point of informing them that I was married to an elementary school teacher and had a child in elementary school thereby emphasizing a personal facet to my professional researcher’s role. This invariably uncovered some connection between myself and the school which abetted both access and the development of rapport with the various participants.
Although access was successfully obtained for all four schools, I was conscious that it was the ‘gatekeepers’ permission I had received and not the unforced consent of the teachers. As Hobbs and Kubanyiova (2008) point out,
“most teachers … do not wish to have their teaching scrutinized by outsiders, are overburdened with heavy workloads and have their own personal and professional agendas … that are often incompatible with those of the researcher’s” (p.500).
To overcome these issues, I followed Hobbs and Kubanyiova suggested solutions (p. 502) of ‘selling’ my project to encourage participants to ‘buy in’ to the research; spending time gaining the trust of the teachers; providing help and assistance; being non-judgmental; and being sensitive and flexible to the teachers’ changing needs and anxieties.
Thus, by May 2011, when I commenced my fieldwork, I had a total of 12 classes to observe in four schools.
4.5.2 Field notes and field boundaries
Atkinson (1992) argues that the field is never just in situ, waiting to be discovered by the researcher, but rather emerges from the very process of research.
“The boundaries of the field are not ‘given’. They are the outcome of what the ethnographer may encompass in his or her gaze; what he or she may negotiate with hosts and informants; and what the ethnographer omits and overlooks” (p.9).
corridors traversed between the classroom and the teachers’ room (where much of the informal interview data were gathered); and the teachers’ room. What I had to omit from my fieldwork was the unobservable planning and preparations the teachers undertook (though I did try to access that data through my interviews). Similarly, interactions with the ALTs, other teachers, the students, or the school administration were limited by the spatial and temporal bounds of my fieldwork. My engagement with what constituted my ‘field of research’ was restricted, but still adhered to what Emerson et al. (2011: 354) term “classic ethnographic naturalism”19.
4.5.3 Developing and maintaining field relations
Conscious of the imposition I was making on the teachers I spent the first month of my field site visits primarily concerned with establishing a measure of acceptance to my presence in the classroom. In doing this I was following Walford’s (2008) assumption that “as the researcher becomes a more familiar presence, participants are less likely to behave uncharacteristically” (p.9). In this way, “the fieldworker uses face-to-face relationships with informants as the fundamental way of demonstrating to them that he or she is there to learn about their lives without passing judgement on them” (Gold, 1997: 394).
Nevertheless, I acknowledge that the observer inevitably impacts the social setting by his or her presence and interaction. This particularly the case in foreign language research. As Richards (2003) notes:
"one consequence of our professional identity as a teacher is that we are unlikely to be seen as a neutral presence by the teachers we are observing. Observing in TESOL is so much bound up with evaluation that it will be hard for teachers not to see the teacher - researcher, possessor of sufficient relevant knowledge for the purposes of judgement, as someone to be regarded warily" (p.126).
This was especially an issue in my research where I, a native English speaker, EFL teacher and professional researcher, was observing non-native speakers/educators teach English, many of them for the first time in their professional careers. To mitigate this stance required me to continuously monitor my relations with the teachers and re-iterate and re-negotiate the nature and extent of my engagement with them, what Hammersley and Atkinson (2007) describe as a process of ‘impression management’.
19 Gubrium and Holstein (1997) provide a typology of different conceptions of the field and how this in turn shapes and
constrains the resulting field notes. They distinguish between ethnographic naturalism which defines the field as a geographical location; the ethnomethodology field which occurs “wherever reality-constitution interaction takes place” (p.52); the field of phenomenological lived experience that emphasizes the emotions; and post-modern conceptions of the
My field notes record how these shifts in positional stance occurred. From Midori school and a 5th grade class I participated in:
A very enjoyable class. A sensei did my idea for the karuta game for teaching months. She said it was better than the activity in the TG (teachers’ guide). Said she will do it again next week with Catherine20.
(Field note M/A/5/111110/3)21.
However, in Kiiro school I wrote the following:
Felix (the ALT) was late getting to the school arriving a few minutes before class. Said the roads were icy. Y. sensei hurried over to us to talk about her class. Felix wasn’t sure what to do. I suggested an activity, explained what to do. But Y just nodded. Felix suggested the grab the rubber game (again) and Y agreed to do that. Then the chime sounded and that was lesson planning.
(Field note K/Y/5/061512/3).
It has been argued that only a trusting, reciprocal relationship between a researcher and participant can ensure the trustworthiness of a qualitative report (Krueger, 1994), though some researchers have critiqued the traditional practices of rapport building (Pitts & Miller-Day, 2007), while others have questioned its necessity (Venkateswar, 2001).
However, as the second field note extract above demonstrates, such reciprocity is not always possible. This lack of rapport did not completely impede my data collection in Y. sensei’s class, but it did affect the quality of the data I collected. Somewhat paradoxically, this lack of reciprocity and what Sanjek (2015) terms ‘mutuality’ in itself also constituted data. It induced me to consider whether Y. sensei’s seeming indifference was to me personally, professionally, or arising from her antipathy to English education in general.
All fieldwork generates data, both hoped for and unexpected (Patton, 2002); the next section explains my principal methods of data collection.