PhD paranoia and justifying my theory frame?

I've been getting increasingly concerned about defending the theoretical framework constructed for my PhD study. This has built on (that fairly common) impostor syndrome I think part time mature students often have about their study, but it's more than that. I have dutifully read all of those articles and blog posts about how PhDs are examined, and heard from others who - on the surface at least - seem confident about their rationale for their choice and use of their theory frame. These things have led me to those predictable - 'how do I measure up' comparisons. I imagine any other Phd researcher saying "Oh, you haven't created a relational map of the whole of social theory and philosophy, located your theory frame in it and then justified your position in relation to all other points?...Ohhhhh".

I am being dramatic, but you get the idea. Let me let you in to my thinking process at the risk of pulling the curtain back on what I could otherwise present as some very 'intellectual' process. You see, I realised today whilst talking to a friend at work that I really have constructed a theory frame to reflect how I already thought. In other words, my theory frame was not selected through some cool, depersonalised purely logical or theoretical process. I realise in saying this that somewhere someone is going to accuse me of simply wanting to confirm or reify my own prejudices, but I'd not see it like that. I'll explain.

[This is a picture of our cat. She has no such worries. Neither is she likely to pass her viva.]









I came to my PhD study with a clear idea of the questions I wanted to ask, albeit in an embryonic form. I also came as a mature student and experienced professional who had thought about how they thought. Only now do I see that my immersion into PhD study and it's various communities and discourses has somehow prompted a weird sort of response from me. I had begun to construct a forced rationale for why I was using Ricoeur and Mead in the way I was. What I've realised - properly - today is that I had a way of thinking and being which I brought to my study, and I shaped my theory frame to help articulate my position. I see this as trying to achieve some honestly about the choices I have already made which position me in relation to my study. Those of you who talk Bourdieu might waffle on about 'habitus' to help explain this.

What I'm thinking today is that, as someone who is working with narratives and using a hermeneutic approach in my studies, I have configured a narrative (the theory frame) from my practices which in many ways prefigured it. After all, I am arguing in my thesis that practices and narratives are mutually constitutive so I'm also applying this to how I came to express my questions and articulate my ideas.

I might still have to fight impostor syndrome, but i have a line of thinking to pursue here. I am not willing to disregard the way I was already positioned in relation to my study, and I should not apologise for talking about how it has shaped the construction of my theory frame, instead I shall see this as a strength. Of course, this does not mean I will not address questions or inconsistencies, but I won't base my theoretical validity on needing to know about, and justify in relation to everything there is to know.

From data to draft: got to have a process

It started with this Tweet.

That quick comment got me thinking about something that is simple, but I have realised is so important to my research: having a process to follow. You might remember that I recently blogged about (my) secret to success in a PhD. It got the most number of hits of any of my posts. everyone knows they need to do this, but struggles with it. I suspect that is because 'making progress' is not simple, we have multiple tasks, and defining 'important' can be tricky. We need to reflect, read and talk to find a way forward. Here's an example.

In this case, I had the rather dubious task of taking my 'next steps' now that I had worked with my data (interpreted, rather than analysed feels a better fit). I had six key insights that I could audit trail back to a process of looking at the data in multiple ways. I was advised to maintain some of the momentum I had and to draft a findings and discussion chapter, knowing I'd come back to it as other chapters took shape. I had to think carefully about how to start.

In this case, in order to begin writing, I felt I needed some of the data to hand. Specifically, I wanted to group quotes in such a way that I could write thematically. I'm working with narratives, and I want to keep those voices close. Given my topic (how talk about self and talk about practices relate) I can get fairly philosophical fairly quickly, but I want to do that whilst (re) representing participants voices. My first step was to code all of my data again against those six insights. It gave me 60 pages of 11pt text. After about ten minutes of trying to put the right quotes together, I realised that it was going to be impossible. That would be 'cut and paste' from hell. No, I wanted to see them all laid out; after all, I'd used interactive 'sorting' and positioning methods in my research, and that worked so well.

 

The first thing I did was to print off those sixty pages. Then get my scissors out and cut them up. I'd didn't feel very intellectual. I then grouped them into clear plastic 'pockets' so the quotes relating to each key insight were together. I quickly realised that an initial 'sort through' was required, so I went through each 'pocket' and looked at each one in terms of it's ability to 'speak' about that particular theme. I pretty much reduced each pocket by half.



I then needed to find a way of grouping quotes within these six themes. By now, I am very familiar with all of them and their contexts, so that helped. Hours of coding, then re-coding for other things had paid off. Practically, I found that getting my highlighter pen out helped here - I could group common quotes much more quickly. Then I laid them out, and fought off the cat who became very interested in them.

Despite the process feeling a bit mechanical and 'painting by numbers' what I did next was to staple groups of quotes together. These were the potential raw materials for sub sections. When I thought about it, I realised that as I reviewed my 'data analysis' plan I had been on a multi layered and 'back and forth' process of hermeneutic discovery (see previous posts on this). I was looking at patterns. Even at this rather mechanistic stage, I realised that I was doing rather sophisticated work in judging the extent that quotes illustrated the insights I had arrived at by going through a previous process of coding, reviewing, memoing and so on. I was going back along that process, and in a way it was testing out the strength (or not) of the insights I felt I had come to. The process was mind numbing, but reassuring and illuminating at times.

I realised that there are some things you should not rush or skip. I could have pulled (from memory) some quotes to say something about the insights I'd come to - which came from a thorough process of analysis. You could say that selecting quotes was decorative, but not in this study - this is a study of narratives, and I needed that dynamic relationship between the emerging thesis and the data. This activity - going back through the process - was exactly the movement back and forth along the hermeneutic 'arc' from explanation to understanding (and back) that Ricoeur talks about in his work.

I now have a work document with quotes grouped into the six insights, and into sections within that. I will start writing and will then begin to draw on the theoretical material which will feature elsewhere. I have a process in other words, and that helps.

My 2.0 research journey (Prezi)

Engaging audiences for my research

There's nothing like settling down to write your thesis 'proper' for distracting yourself. Suddenly, all sorts of projects come to mind. This week, whilst not (yet) getting distracted from putting one of my thesis chapters together, I had some sort of mad dream about dissemination and wider popular and professional sharing of my PhD insights.

I just can't help myself - my career has always involved making things accessible to people, and I believe passionately that academics can do so much more to make their research accessible, relevant and (gasp!) interesting. That's what comes of working with children and young people for years. Combine that with an obsession with visual methods (and methodologies) and art direction, graphic design and events and you have a dangerous combination.

The daydream went something like this: I realised I had dozens and dozens of drawings produced as part of my visual methodology. If you have read previous posts, you might remember that I've used images in my work with PhD participants as they we have talked about narrative identity and its' relation to their 'social  worlds'.

These images are NOT simply illustration, they supported very real 'co-configuration' of narratives; but what I have found is that they are a way into talking about both the process and the insights around my research. Combine that with all that wonderful narrative data and some blather from me, I have the raw ingredients of an installation or event.

So; permit me to continue my fantasy if you will. I am imagining a room full of these images, along with actors' voicing sound clips of narrative from the study. Throw in a few explanatory panels and even some interactive activities...oh, and some guest speakers, good lighting and a well designed brochure and something interesting could happen. In this (wonderful) fantasy, I'm imagining inviting general, academic and professional audiences to an event/reception at which they might be intrigued to explore some ideas and insights into professional narratives of leaders within Early Childhood services.

I shared my ideas with my principal supervisor and they were well received. As it happens, my ambitions for disseminating my 'results' (that term isn't suited) fits the priorities for my University. We even have a creative partnership with the BALTIC centre for contemporary art in Newcastle, so you never know what creative collaborations I could manage?

Ultimately, it's not an event, or an installation, or even self promotion that's the point: for me, the focus is generating meaningful insight into practice and leadership development using visual and narrative methodologies. It's about showing that hermeneutics and philosophy can be practical, and it's about helping people ask new questions. I have a responsibility to engage them in that conversation, and I think I have a pretty good way in.

The secrets of making progress in (my) PhD

In the last week, I drafted out what I currently think are six key insights my data has given me into my subject. This comes off the back of monumental whinging about the process that led up to it, i.e. careful return to data sources and memoing around them. I am really pleased, even though I know that these insights will be refined perhaps out of all recognition as I understand what it is that I am trying to describe. I am meeting with my supervisors over the course of the next week and feel pleased I can talk through an 'audit trail' a process is has led me thus far. I told friends and #phdchat peers on Twitter and received typical encouragement.

One of my supervisors tells me I am making especially good progress. He's supervised lots of research students, and a fair few members of staff doing their PhD the 'wrong way round' like myself. In my institution, most new members of staff need to have their PhD before being employed. I was lucky in that I came in at the right time, from practice, and of course offered extensive professional insights (as well as academic) required on the courses I teach on. I've been told that members of staff often take longer than I am, or 'stall' in their PhD journey for various reasons. That's got me thinking about why that is, consequently, I offer my personal secrets for my own success. See if they could apply to you - or if you could advise me how to improve.

1. Be purposeful. I find that making the small steps required relies on a clear goal. The goal in my own form of (narrative) research is continually refined (not re-written); it gave me energy. losing sight of why you are doing it saps energy and motivation, so pay attention to it.

2. Keep going. As long as you are heading in the right direction - journalling and making good use of supervision help here - just being determined to keep working at it is half the battle. A huge undertaking requires chipping away at, and most of the time we might not feel like the small tasks that build important foundations.

3. Reflect and continually 'scan'. I find that I need to understand what I am doing and why - in other words, I have to understand the significance of what I am doing, even if that is transcribing or memoing. I can do so many things with my time, but I have in mind a list of potential key tasks and consider what I should be putting my effort into. I am thinking of a cook in a busy kitchen with many pots all simmering or boiling. I need to know what to stir. For me, it's about putting energies into the right thing at the right time.

4. Connect and imagine. Instead of seeing the imagination as a distraction, in my case I try to use my imagination as a way of connecting ideas. Doing a PhD involves lots of reading, working with data, journalling and so on. Our brains are great pattern making and connecting machines, so I think we should use them, and make note of 'little' insights we might have. One of my recent insights, perhaps one that will end up being my main finding came about because I paid attention to that 'small voice' when reviewing memos. What I noted initially wasn't very exciting, but it developed into something quite exciting.

5. Use the time. If, like me, your research degree is done 'part time' then it competes with the other stuff. In my case, it's a busy academic job and large family. I have found that if I am 'prepared' - for example, by carrying around the book I'm reading, or having a notebook to hand then I can use those minutes I spend waiting for a student to turn up to my tutorial, or the bus journey. Add those minutes up, I guarantee they are valuable.

6. Use technology intelligently. I don't mean spending ages on that unproductive Facebook group, but it might mean using a great app like Evernote, or getting to know the #phdchat crew in Twitter. Develop expertise in getting the right resources or support at the right time. Make sure the documents you need are accessible when you need them, be able to ask that question or share a reflection when you get it.

7. Laugh at yourself. Get your priorities right over time. I know that a PhD skews our perception of reality, but don't get so caught up in what you are doing that you over-estimate your contribution or how fascinating you are. Relationships are important. Be thankful for friends or your partner. Don't neglect your children. Be silly at least once per day.

8. Communicate your thinking. Writing - for yourself, your blog audience (hello, you two), twitter followers, the academic community via journals or peers pushes your thinking on. You are only as motivated and as insightful as your current narrative of your research, so learn to explain and challenge your thinking in everyday language. This challenges ambiguity and forces you to be clear and relevant.

Reflexivity in analysis

The last time I blogged, I was expressing some reluctance at the prospect of engaging in the next stage of my PhD analysis. If I was honest (actually, I think you will find I was) then I'd be saying the work ahead of me didn't seem as interesting as the previous phase: the last set of conversations with participants, where we talked about cartoons and 'maps' I had created based on the first phase of analysis of their talk about professional identity and social interactions.   Since then, I've got on with that next block of work and I've also pulled together some thinking about what's getting me 'stuck'. Before I share some of those insights, I'd like to say that I'd never 'got there' without the pig headed determination to just persist. I realise some PhD researchers 'give up' at several points in their journey - I understand why this might happen - but I'm convinced at the value of just putting the work in. Thanks to my wife, without whom I couldn't do this; we have four children and I have a busy job. Right, that said, on to my recent insight into my own research journey.

Put simply, I've realised that what felt frustrating was the sheer...impossibility of the task ahead of me. I don't mean the analysis, I don't even mean the writing of the thesis; but the sort of questions I was asking. I have realised that what 'worked' for me up to this point were not 'researchable' questions, but were philosophical wonderings. Ironically, I spend a lot of my time advising my students about forming research questions...which I think I'm good at! What I had were a sort of general 'place markers' which talked about the sort of focus I had, but talked in general terms about 'relationships' between things. However, I was asking questions that great philosophers and sociologists spent their lives asking!

I'm not bitter. It's all part of the research journey. We all are living with our 'best' articulation of our research questions. In a flexible research design, it's no problem, but it calls for researcher reflexivity - our ability to think about our thinking, to be conscious about how we are positioned in the research process and how we interact with it. I try to do that through blogging, journaling and talking - in person and through my twitter network (as @ianrobsons).

So; I was living with research questions that had done their job in directing and sensitising my inquiry - they had taken me as far as they could. I wasn't about to throw them out, but they needed re-articulating. This had contributed in my sense of 'stuckness'. I only realised this because I had pushed on with the analysis. This is a lesson in the value of persisting (to a point) when you are not 100% sure. As I immersed myself in what I sometimes thought of as boring (let's be honest) raw data, I felt the distance between those very real narratives and the rather abstract 'questions' that were directing my studies...or rather, had become less useful in directing my studies.

I have realised what may seem quite obvious, which is that there is a reciprocal relationship between the questions and the process of analysis. Analysis benefits from the focus and direction good questions gives, but questions are re-shaped in the light of the demands of the process of analysis (if analysis begins to get unfocused or not productive in some way). The key seems to be aware of the 'balance' between the two. If things are 'working' then I'm usually OK, but if I'm stuck then a re-assessment of one of the two is usually needed. Either questions need refining, or the process of analysis isn't informing the question. I'm sure that's a simplification, but let's be honest, this is a blog post not a thesis so short is good.

So, I've written a note to myself that will direct a re-drafting of the research question. I'm thinking of practices, representations, transformations and all sorts of more specific things I can actually ask my data about. I've realised that the job of my thesis is to move forward what 'we' know about the topic not reinvest or define the world. In my case, it's about the narrative construction of professional selfhood for leaders in early childhood services, and I'm a little bit more equipped to examine my data on that now, thank you very much.

Are we there yet? (more narrative data analysis)

Completing a PhD as a part time student involves more than a little self motivation and management of expectations. You become very aware of what motivates you, and what is most likely to slow you down. Following my last post, I have completed (insert massive relief here) all of the transcription of the audio data from my study. Amazingly, I have also written, edited and had accepted the first article in an international journal using some of the data, on a subject which is not the 'central' question of the thesis. I should be really pleased with myself. Perhaps the fact everyone in my house is recovering from chest infections, then flu, then another set of chest infections is taking the edge off things. The article is a big confidence boost, though.

Perhaps it's a good thing I can bask in the glow of the article and post transcription relief: I am facing up  with the last stages of my analysis-interpretation. This has involved going back to 'the plan' established last summer, which I've followed so far. In summary, this has involved:

• Coding all of the narrative data into one of my two main categories: 'self talk' and 'interactional context'.
• Coding within each of these categories for each participant.
• Creating two different 'maps' (previously discussed) - one relating all the themes of the 'self talk' (what I call 'how the story hangs together') and the other identifying 'patterns' of connections between codes in each category. 
• Creating cartoon images to complement this whole process, including a cartoon 'telling' of how I see each participants overall identity narrative. 

Of course, this list doesn't give you all the detail you need to clearly understand this whole process...the point is that I have already begun an awful lot of 'analysis', and have involved participants in that. I have produced some nice images, and had some wonderful conversations...except I have not 'answered' the questions I set out to answer. Yet. Are we not there yet?

Perhaps I am just at another of those points where it is possible to flag, to give up, to feel tired of it all. I understand from friends and colleagues that this is common enough. The last two days have seen me 'going back in' to the data and it has certainly felt the opposite of glamorous. I think I've just come from a very intense phase of creating and talking about the data at quite an abstract level - patterns, connections, reflections. I am now creating a set of memos of all of my data artifacts - transcripts, maps, cartoons, session photographs. This is legwork - legwork that will help me compare and link, annotate and begin to theorise, but the experience of going through the transcripts and summarising them felt...like starting again.

I take encouragement from my understanding of the process. Thankfully, I have been keeping a research journal and writing a draft analysis chapter for the thesis. In fact, I had forgotten I'd written some of that, so it was good to read these when I sat down; before the depression set in. In short, the process I am following is heavily influenced by Paul Ricoeur's approach to hermeneutics - the interpretation of texts. I won't go into details, other than to say it is a process that involves moving from explanation to understanding and back. To get to 'understanding' you need to explain, and explain better. Understanding starts with a structural understanding, of sorts, and then moves through the process of interpretation (reflecting, comparing, immersing and so on). Of course, I'm going to write a lengthy section of my thesis saying a lot more than that, but suffice to say that I'm back with the explanation. Can you hear the sound of me stamping my feet?

I guess I forget the detail at my peril. Like many people, I like the big picture, but those insights into creative transformations between action and talk will come from building up layers of insight - and those need gathering from each of those transcripts, cartoons, maps and session photographs I have in front of me. What I am learning is that I have to ignore the quiet voice that says 'there's nothing amazing here' - because it is from the very 'ordinary' accounts of participants that I will begin to identify some amazing patterns. Eventually. 

making a hermeneutic method

I have found that the process of working on a PhD challenges me to really say what I mean. In other words, I cannot hide behind interesting metaphors or general discussion that form so much of 'academic' conversation. This is often frustrating, because it's comforting to get to those places in study where an 'argument' (of sorts) can be put together, but challenging to find ways to make that argument explicit and to discuss it in clear terms. 

I am at the start of a new phase of my PhD: I have all my data and am now getting into detailed analysis and the 'pulling together' of theoretical resources. I enjoy the sitting back and seeing what has been achieved, but as I look forward, I don't relish the hard work I have ahead of me. I know that future insights will come from unseen hard work such as the final hours of transcription I have to do, analysing data and writing draft chapters of my thesis...but I'm hovering on the edge.

I do have a plan, but as you will know, plans need detail and hard work so they can grow into things that actually happen. I have reflected over the last few weeks that it what we do with our thoughts that matters. Not that thinking is not work, but there is something about implementing and working that thinking out. 

I feel I am at one of the most complex points in my study. The illustration in this post is an attempt to convey the idea of having to weave multiple and diverse threads together. I wonder if I can live up to the idea of how great it will be. I have many threads to weave: the narrative hermeneutics of Paul Ricoeur, the American Pragmatism of GH Mead and others, large amounts of audio and visual data, my reflections and so on. All of these things are in creative dialogue with my questions in my study. It is at this point that inertia can kick in, faced with the prospect of how to start: how to start the next phase.

My study examines the nature of narrative identity and its relationship with what I am calling the 'interactional contexts' in which it happens. I am looking at how experience becomes story, and how stories are used in professional action. I am interested in the relationships, transformations and forms of narrative identity 'work' that go on for my study participants. In general terms, I am seeing the process not about identifying 'causal relationships' between the things I've mentioned, but as a hermeneutic process: about interpretation and understanding. I am working with texts - transcripts and notes of extended conversations and my work is to look at ways in which these texts relate to interactional contexts. Ricoeur's hermeneutics encourage me to start with description and an examination of structural relationships, but to move beyond those towards a deeper understanding of the text. What is implied is movement back and forth across Ricoeur's mimetic arc and it's three phrases of prefiguration, configuration and refiguration. (Ricoeur, 1984: 54) 

Back to my original point: I want to move from describing what I read towards understanding. I want to understand the different forms that narrative can take in the mimetic arc. I want to be more specific about what is going on in that relationship between narratives of professional identity and interactional contexts. I can talk about 'relationships' 'transformations' 'forms' and so on, but my study is driving towards greater depth of understanding. 

At the minute, the 'raw materials' feel like a ridiculously complex jigsaw puzzle. I know I will enjoy looking at it and talking about it once done, but gathering and placing the raw materials will be hard enough. Saying this, I already have done plenty of coding within categories of data - I have narrative 'maps' which I have thought about with participants. My biggest barrier is fear itself (perhaps fear is too great a word) - what if the relationships and transformations I see are somehow 'obvious'? I remind myself: the PhD process often leads us to put lots of pressure on ourselves, after all, the PhD thesis is the start of a research agenda, not the master work!

What will get me to jump in? I will make a list, that's a good start. The list will combine the obvious (dreaded final set of transcription) and the puzzling (like how I will 'trace back' relational lines on the narrative maps I've produced). Oh for goodness sake, just get on with it. 

Reading patterns and relating layers: hermeneutic experiences with narrative.

In between the many 'other' things of life, I've been continuing to analyse / interpret the narrative data in my PhD study. I previously reflected that a key moment for me was thinking about the status of the maps I had been producing (see previous post). These 'maps', I argue, are part 'data' and part hermeneutic tool, in that they will be used with participants to reconfigure their narratives again in the cycle of sense making I have related to Paul Ricoeur's take on the hermeneutic or mimetic arc. 

I am now at a point where I have produced what I called 'semantic maps' of each participant's narrative. The hope here was to begin with looking at the structure of narratives of professional identity - how they 'hang together'. When I take these back to participants, I will ask them about the patterns and connections they see. I hope that the 'maps' will provide rich opportunities for further reflection, justification or refiguration of narratives. I suppose they represent some form of objectification of narratives and another mirror for participants to see their stories in.

Talking about the 'semantic maps' forms the first stage only of analysis. This past week, I have begun to  relate these maps to another 'level' of data available to us. In addition to first order (talk about me) and second order (reflection on this talk) narrative data, I have a whole set of data which richly describes the social context for the creation and use of these narratives. The central point of interest for me is to relate the social context to the narratives - in other words, as I've previously said, how narratives come from experience and how - in turn - they are refigured to direct and shape ongoing action. I have begun to maps lines of connection from the narrative to the social context. The results are starting to look like an intruiging cats cradle of connections to explore together. 

I'm aware that presenting participants with 'maps' could be a confusing and disorientating experience. it is important that participants see this is re-engaging with their stories and sense making, and not with some 'impressive' process. I think good methodology can often (and should often) be as invisible as it can be. Of course, researchers tend to get caught up with how great what they are doing is, and it ends up a distraction. I hope my methodology, whilst not invisible (I must locate and recognise myself in the process) will focus on the meaning making and reflection that is so critical in my study. Because of this, in addition to the maps, I will start with presenting participants with cartoons.

You can see in my sketchbook, I want to talk with people about how their narratives can be looked at in their own right - as per the 'semantic maps' in my last post - and taken (to a degree) 'at face value' or can also be related to their social contexts. 

In a discussion with my second supervisor I used the term surface and deep structure of the narrative, but I'm not sure that I meant to say the social 'roots' of narrative were more true as such, but just a different picture. However, it is this different picture I am focusing on, and it is this different picture - the connections or relationships between what we say and the social contexts of creation and use - that is not recognised or examined in professional practice, or very often in academia.

Understanding stories as maps: more than pretty pictures

I am in a rewarding, but fairly labour intensive part of my PhD research at the moment. I'm looking at narratives from leaders of early childhood services, and thinking about their connection to the social contexts for their creation and use. The project involves people as active participants, so we create and think about these issues together to some extent. I'm at the 'analysis / interpretation' stage (or at least the first stages of it) which has involved putting all the narratives into categories: references to social interaction, talking about myself (what I call 'first order' narrative) and reflection (what I've called 'second order narrative').

Within the first and second order narrative, I've used NVivo to create about thirty 'themes' from the narratives configured by each participant. This has been carefully and painstakingly done, as I try to remain true to what people have said and my understanding of their meanings. I've got a fairly good idea of this, as we've worked together over four extended sessions each so far, and circled around a set of subjects to do with professional identity.

My interest all along has been to reflect the theory and methodology in how I analyse / interpret. Part of my methodology is to work with visual elements (in this case, cartoons I have created) to interpret and to facilitate further shared thinking. When it came to understanding how these narratives were structured - which would form the foundation of further analysis - I wanted to focus on relationships between the 'parts' and the 'parts and the whole'. This is prompted in part by my use of Ricoeur's approach to hermeneutic analysis, which I've talked about previously. In this particular case, doing this has required patient work, but has also been exciting and rewarding. This week, I've created 'semantic structure maps' (sounds fancy, I know) which illustrate the connections between themes in each narrative. As connections are drawn from each theme to all other related themes, a 'web' of relationships is shown. Looking at it, I'm already thinking about many different ways this 'map' will be useful when I take it back to participants to think about together. For example, we can think about those aspects of their story that seem to be most 'interconnected' or we can pick out particular relationships and discuss or annotate these.

I've just written a research journal note to myself about the next stage (which came to me whilst in the bath, as all good PhD reflections do). This has to do with forming the next set of 'connections': between aspects of participants' narratives and references to social interaction. The reason I'm doing this - as I briefly noted above - is because after understanding the narratives 'in themselves' I want to ask questions about their 'social' origins and applications. This again links to Ricoeur and his mimetic arc.

I've realised that my analysis, as with the methodology generally, has been about establishing patterns and connections, then seeking to understand them. When I have produced these 'semantic maps' I've been challenged to reflect upon their status as analytic / interpretive tools. I'm very aware the basis on which I have 'drawn lines' between one narrative theme and another has been based on intimate knowledge of these texts, and the intentions of the participants. As I've done this, I did experience doubt as I thought about whether I should have created the themes based on the frequency of their mention, or drawn connectors between them based upon some kind of 'scientific' measure. As I have reflected, I remain clear that what I am doing is not some 'objective' analysis in the traditional sense, but the very act of analysis is in itself more interpretation. I am 'seeing' relationships, some I have chosen not to draw because although on the face of it, two terms could be connected but for that person they were not. Although the process of analysis can lead to 'cutting up' narratives into tiny units, I am aware that I don't want to dissolve narratives into simply 'words' which can be made to say anything. So, the process of creating semantic maps has been intensive and has involved careful reflection on the intended meaning of the participant. Still, the maps will still be my reading (or 'configuration') and they will return to participants for verification and further work together.

Any insight generated by production of these 'semantic maps' is only partial. As I have produced them, I have realised that their status needs thinking about because they are also a sort of heuristic tool. Rather than being 'answers' to what the narratives are about (even though the connections do reflect things about the semantic structure of the narratives) they are tools to ask questions with participants, to reflect on patterns and move from a basic structural understanding to a deeper hermeneutic understanding (back to Ricoeur's mimetic arc again). Reflecting has helped me articulate why I am doing things in this way. No one has yet accused me of simply producing 'pretty pictures', but if they do, I am clear about their value as a tool in the hermeneutic arc.