Levy, D.K. & Johnson, C.W. (2011). What does the Q mean? Including queer voices in qualitative research. Qualitative Social Work, 11, 130-140.
Levy and Johnson briefly describe the history of the word “queer” – from being oppressive to being reclaimed by GSMs (gender sex minorities). But since queer theory is quick to deconstruct, to dismiss the notion of fixed meanings, Levy and Johnson, whose backgrounds are in social work and in women’s studies and qualitative research, respectively, aim to figure out how to incorporate queer voices into their qualitative research. Queer denotes a bigger political movement – and a bigger field of study and categorization – than “gay and lesbian”; to queer something is to trouble and question its foundation(s). Levy and Johnson examine several different studies to see how queerness was incorporated into their frameworks.
Levy’s research includes queer participants and examining Christian upbringing and queer/lesbian/gay identities – often seen as opposing each other. Participants – three of the 15 identifying as queer – essentially “queer” their religious views and their sexual identities. Johnson’s research sought to figure out how college-age queer, transgender, bisexual, lesbian, and gay individuals used their high-school experiences to make meaning of and forge their sexual identity/ies. Five of the 11 participants designated themselves as queer. The word “queer” surprised many on the outside, like school personnel and student’s colleagues, but not anyone involved with the study itself, as it has become a very political term. One student even expressed disinterest in LGB campus events since they fail to directly recognize queer people.
Multiple methodological considerations for queer research make their way into the framework, of course, through clear benefits. Among the benefits is the obvious: Queer research amplifies queer voices. Additionally, this research challenges the sexual and gender-related binaries that still persist in society. Of course, we must also consider the challenges that queer research might bring. Perhaps the most obvious hurdle is the non-definition of the all-important word, “queer.” Researchers must be prepared for anything, given the fluidity of people who identify as queer. Recruiting participants can be difficult, too, as queer people are under-represented. Social institutions like universities and communities are comfortable keeping heterosexist norms alive in our culture; consequently, they might not jump at the opportunity to support queer research. Some people still see the non-defined “queer” as an offensive word.
In light of these benefits and challenges, Levy and Johnson offer six recommendations for queer research. We should be comfortable with fluidity – it is qualitative research, after all, and people and groups of people change all the time, often at the drop of a hat. We must also pay attention to identity politics. Being prepared for the unknown will help us, so we should think of possible scenarios before conducting research. We should also be prepared for questions, as the concept of “queer” as queer studies and queer theory (don’t?) frame it is complicated. We also need to be sensitive in approaching this subject – and especially in approaching research participants. Last and not least but perhaps obvious, we should be advocates for GSMs.
Levy and Johnson’s research will be helpful for my own project, as they address issues in working with the concept of “queer.” Queer theory is such an oddly intangible thing to have its own theory, but Levy and Johnson seem to be pointing me in the right direction.
Wall, S. (2006). An Autoethnography on Learning About Autoethnography. International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 5, 146-160.
As the title suggests, Wall uses the process of autoethnography to describe the process of learning autoethnography. Like many (such as myself), she grew up to believe that “‘real’ science is quantitative,” thanks to the positivist perspective (147). Postmodern philosophy leads to Wall’s having a different constitution of knowing – objectivity is a myth, and inquiry is a welcomed, necessary learning process. We’ve seen such thinking set the foundation for feminist theory and feminist research; other theories aiming to examine power imbalances (can) draw from postmodern thinking, too. Wall sees much promise in undertaking autoethnography “[a]s a woman in a man’s world, a nurse in a
doctors‟ world, and a qualitative researcher coming from a positivist discipline (health services research)” (148). Coming from postmodern thinking, we should avoid simply relegating reflexivity to nothing more than a paragraph in our work. Where is the political and cultural representation? Who are the voices? Are we not the best choices to describe our experience(s) with our own research? People have presented the use of self as heuristic inquiry, which sets up a nontraditional study of self-engagement. They have also presented the use of self as autobiography – more closely related to what we regard as autoethnography – which places the person and her emotions alongside social sciences. People have additionally presented the use of self as personal narrative, intended “to fuse the form with the content and the literary with the scientific” (151). Wall worries that autoethnography was too abstract a concept, based on what she’s read, but she’s able to find a few examples that provide strong insight into the process. She cites works published by Sparkes (1996), Holt (2001), Duncan (2004), and Pelias (2003), as well as Paulette’s “A Choice for K’aila” (1993). The social sanctioning of expert knowledge presents a few stumbling blocks to taking autoethnography seriously. Regarding trust in autoethnography, Wall ultimately falls somewhere in the middle – she recognizes that we cannot separate ourselves from our research, but she additionally believes “that some things are right and some are wrong” (156). While she enjoys the autoethnographies she’s encountered, she wonders whether they’re research.
Initially, the title of this article grabbed me, but Wall’s stance “[a]s a woman in a man’s world, a nurse in a doctors‟ world, and a qualitative researcher coming from a positivist discipline (health services research)” also worked in making her a strong choice for my research (148). Her ultimate challenging of autoethnography as research fascinated me – did she not use autoethnography to construct this apparently publishable research? (Does the award for the ultimate paradox go to Wall?) While I see value in challenging what we see before us (society, theory/ies, people’s words, etc.), I see in her research an ultimate adherence to everything she once believed – or, rather, everything she still believes. Longstanding beliefs can be tough to shake.