Preparing for the Research Ceremony: Indigenist Researcher Training

Abstract

Preparing ourselves for the ceremony of research is akin to preparing ourselves to be in good relationship with Knowledge, and with whoever else participates in the research, including other human beings, more than human beings, and Country. In this article, I talk about the practice of cultivating the values and skills that make for good relationships, both as a researcher in training and through the mentoring relationships with my PhD supervisors. It is my hope that sharing my experience as a PhD student traversing this training and mentoring journey may support others preparing for research within a relational methodology. Throughout the conversation, I come back to the importance of cultivating and practicing the principles of respect, receptivity, generosity, humility, compassion, and care, and building the skills of attention, deep listening, and service.

Keywords

Indigenist methodology relational methodology reflexive practice research values and principles PhD mentoring

Introduction

Indigenous Knowledge is alive, has agency, and sometimes communicates with and through human beings. In the context of Indigenist research, part of our process is learning to invite, accommodate, and communicate with and about Knowledge in ways that are respectful and accountable in our specific cultural and geographical research contexts, and in service to the communities with whom we live and work. We have written elsewhere about the practice of conducting relationally accountable research (Barlo et al., 2021; Hughes & Barlo, 2021; Wilson & Hughes, 2019). In particular, we discussed the importance of cultivating respectful, reciprocal, and accountable research relationships with Country¹, with research participants, with data or stories, with Ancestors, and with Knowledge. But how do we prepare ourselves for the process of developing new relationships with Knowledge? In a higher education context, as PhD students and supervisors, how do we cultivate and help our students to cultivate the values and practices that make us receptive to Knowledge and skilful in our communication and sharing?

Put another way, as Opaskwayak Cree scholar Shawn Wilson (and one of the authors of this paper) has argued, research is a ceremony (Wilson, 2008). What rituals do we need to practice in our daily lives to support our research ceremony? How do we learn to conduct the ceremony in a way that is aligned with our intentions and responsibilities and responsive to the needs of our participants and communities? And as PhD students, how do we learn the research ceremony in the first place? In this article, I reflect on my experience as a PhD student of traversing this training and mentoring journey with my supervisors. I begin with acknowledgements and then introduce myself. I share the research rituals I have developed and practiced in the process of my PhD and how these cultivate the values and skills for participating in and leading the research ceremony. I then reflect on my experience of navigating the mentoring relationship with my PhD supervisors at the intersection of academic supervision and respectful engagement with Knowledge Holders. Throughout the conversation, I come back to the importance of cultivating and practicing the principles of generosity, respect, trust, and humility. I have written this article as a reflection on my experience of learning the research ceremony; however, throughout the article I go back and forth between speaking from my personal learnings as a PhD student and communicating shared learnings in the voice of “we” because this is also a relational process that has taken place among the three authors.

Acknowledgment

We acknowledge Bundjalung Country, with whom we live and work and raise our families. We acknowledge the role this Country plays in holding and sharing Knowledge and guiding our research practice. We acknowledge Bundjalung People, the traditional owners and custodians of this land, who have cultivated relationships of care and respect with this Place since time immemorial. We acknowledge Bundjalung Elders, who have shared of their Knowledges, welcomed and introduced us to this Country, and given permission for us to cultivate and practice our research ceremony here.

Who Are “We”

I am a White Settler American from Fort Worth, Texas. I am a mum, a queer woman, and an Indigenist researcher in training. I have been living in Bundjalung Country since 2010 and have spent the last 20 years working with young people and communities to develop meaningful education and employment pathways, and develop or revive alternatives to the dominant criminal justice system. My PhD is about how White fellas (like me) can learn respectfully from Indigenous systems for maintaining relationships of balance with other humans and with the Land. I have been incredibly blessed to work with Shawn and Stuart as my PhD supervisors and mentors on this research journey. Shawn Wilson, my principal supervisor, is an Opaskwayak Cree scholar who has guided me in the development and understanding of relational methodology and encouraged me to engage with my research as a ceremony. Stuart Barlo, my co-supervisor, is a Yuin scholar. He has worked with me particularly to learn the principles and protocols of the yarning² process, with an emphasis on yarning with Country.

Indigenist Methodology

The process of preparing for research that I discuss in this article is grounded in Indigenist methodology. I am using the term Indigenist to describe a philosophical approach that centers Indigenous ontology, epistemology, and axiology, particularly relational accountability (Wilson, 2008). As a White person engaging with Indigenist methodology, I am not claiming an Indigenous worldview, but rather making a commitment to participate in a relational framework, engage respectfully with Indigenous Knowledge and Indigenous Peoples, and do the ongoing work of learning how to behave myself properly.

The view that research is a ceremony for developing relationships with Knowledge is based on the view that we are our relationships (Wilson, 2008). We learn through relationships and we have an obligation to bring new understandings gained through research into all our relationships (Wilson & Hughes, 2019). The Knowledge with whom we are seeking to develop a relationship is alive and has agency (Adams et al., 2015; Barlo et al., 2021; Milroy & Milroy, 2008). So, preparing ourselves for the ceremony of research is akin to preparing ourselves to be in good relationship with Knowledge, and with whoever else participates in the research, including other human beings, more than human beings, and Country. To prepare, we need to cultivate the values that make for good relationships, including respect, receptivity, generosity, humility, compassion, and care. We also need to build our skills of attention, deep listening, and service. In this article, I talk about the rituals that help me to cultivate these values and skills, both as an individual researcher-in-training and through the mentoring relationships of PhD student and supervisors.

An Indigenist Researcher in Training

My PhD is about learning respectfully from Indigenous systems for maintaining relationships of balance among human beings, and with the Land. I am particularly concerned with the process of learning respectfully, which in an Indigenous context is largely about developing respectful relationships (Adams et al., 2015; Barlo et al., 2021; Kovach, 2010; Wilson, 2008). As a White woman researcher who is a settler/immigrant to this Country, and the descendent of colonizers and settlers in the place I grew up, it isn’t possible for me to contemplate respectful relationships without acknowledging and grappling with the ongoing violence of colonization. Indeed, the impetus for my research is the violence and injustice of the dominant criminal justice system, and the devastation of the environment wrought by dispossession and destructive land management practices. There is no escaping the effects of colonization on relationships among humans and with land here in Australia, and also in the United States, where I’m from. It feels necessary to acknowledge this context and the work which has been done to expose and critique the ongoing effects of colonization, especially within academic research practice and research with Indigenous communities (Kovach, 2010; Martin, 2003; L. T. Smith, 2013; Wilson, 2008; Wilson et al., 2019). In addition to educating myself on colonizing histories and presents, I believe there are values and capacities I need to personally learn and practice to engage in respectful research relationships. These values and skills run counter to the individualism, competition, and focus on self which is so prominent in dominant contemporary society, and also in research institutions. Part of my commitment to Indigenist methodology, as uncomfortable as I am laying claim to that approach, is a commitment to learning how to be in relationships better, which is a lifelong process. I have been changed as a person through my engagement with relational practices, including talking circles and yarning. I have tremendous respect and appreciation for Indigenous Knowledges and Knowledge keepers who have been generous and patient in sharing with me. Part of my research practice is about demonstrating my worthiness to receive these gifts. It’s not that I feel inherently unworthy as a starting point, but rather that I want to demonstrate my appreciation and reverence for the gift of Knowledge that has been shared and the generosity of people taking their time with me. I also reject the assumption rife in many Western knowledge systems that I have an inherent “right” to receive or own knowledge.³ I try to demonstrate this appreciation through continuing to open myself to learning and putting my learning into practice in my life. My experience of training as a researcher includes developing research practice which helps me to hone these values and skills.

Whose Ceremony?

I hadn’t thought of my research as a ceremony until Shawn, my PhD supervisor, said that’s what we’re doing when we intentionally go about developing new relationships with Knowledge. I think the key aspect of ceremony which is relevant to preparation is the deliberate activity of readying myself for the process by cultivating the qualities and skills that make for good relationships.

At the same time, an important part of relational accountability in the context of doing research with Australian Indigenous communities is following proper protocol and heeding the advice and direction of those who have authority in a given cultural and geographical context (Barlo et al., 2020; Martin, 2008). To my understanding, this is an ongoing practice of relational accountability, not a one-off blanket permission to do my research. As such, I am in regular communication with the appropriate Elders and community members about what I am doing and how the project is evolving. The process has been somewhat organic because people participating in the research are people I have worked with in community for a number of years. The relationships came before the research and will continue after the project is “finished.” So the importance to me of following proper process extends beyond the research to my credibility and integrity in these relationships.

My Research Rituals

Early in my PhD journey, I was in a supervision session with Shawn and he suggested that I think about my research as a ceremony and develop a ritual to ground and support my research practice. I typed up a daily research ritual and posted it on the wall in my office above my computer. It reads,

Rituals that align me with my purpose and intention in this research:

• I think starting with my daily practice is good- first ngöndro and then werma⁴, but early in the morning before dropping Bodelia (my daughter) off would be best; and with specific research intention—not working with other things- working with the mind of my Indigenist research; offerings to Country

• Then something outside—could be a walk, or exercise outside, no more than thirty minutes

• Free-writing for 10 minutes

• Reading- so I’m staying grounded in Elders’ voices, Indigenous voices, and indigenist research

• Then whatever is on the research/writing “plan” for the day

Throughout the journey of my PhD, I have come back to this ritual over and over again. I don’t do it every day, and sometimes there have been long periods where the bit of paper is obscured by my computer screen or stacks of books and papers and I lose sight (literally!) of the ceremonial aspect of research. But fundamentally, my research process has been guided by the practices included in the ritual and the ways they help me cultivate the values and skills I need to participate in and ultimately lead a research ceremony. In this section, I try to tease out each of these aspects and how they support my development as a researcher.

Meditation

I have been a meditator in the Kagyü and Shambhala traditions of Tibetan Buddhism for nearly 25 years, and I have found that my meditation practice and the fundamental view of meditation in this tradition have provided the ground for my development as a researcher. Ngöndro literally translates from the Tibetan as preliminary or preparatory practices (Trungpa, 1991). The intention of ngöndro is to process the mind and heart of the practitioner to undermine the selfishness of ego and to cultivate the inherent human qualities of generosity, patience, exertion, discipline, and wisdom. These practices are preparatory in the sense that it is believed the practitioner will not be able to properly receive or understand, much less practice, more profound teachings without developing these qualities. Although I wasn’t aware of it at the time I developed my research ritual, it seems to me that there are parallels in the process of readying oneself to receive the gift of Knowledge in an Indigenous research context. I certainly don’t think every researcher needs to be a meditator, but I have come to believe that these qualities are essential in research, however different researchers go about cultivating them.

I have also found that the more fundamental meditation practice of shamatha has strong resonance with the Indigenous Australian practice of deep listening and quiet still awareness, or Dadjirri in the language of the Daly River people (Ungunmerr, 1988). Shamatha is a Sanskrit word which translates in English as calm or peaceful abiding (Trungpa, 2005). Importantly, shamatha isn’t about having an experience of calm, but rather cultivating the capacity to abide calmly with whatever arises in one’s experience, including experiences, thoughts, and feelings many of us habitually reject or ignore. It could also be described as a practice of listening deeply to one’s experience, without trying to change or manipulate it. I don’t mean to conflate Dadjirri and the practice of meditation, but rather point to the values and capacities I think my meditation practice helps to cultivate which are in service of my research. In particular, the experience of sitting still and quiet for long periods of time, listening deeply to my own body and mind and the environment around me, and becoming familiar with my patterns of thought and feeling, helps me to know myself in an embodied sense and cultivate the capacity to stop, just be, and rest. I believe the quietude, stillness, and experience of being at home in my own skin cultivated through regular meditation practice contribute to my being able to rest with and listen deeply to others without getting in the way. My meditation practice also helps me to hear and recognize the inner voice of intuition or connection with the bigger world which I believe is an inherent capacity of living beings, but which is easily drowned out by mental chatter and preoccupation in many contemporary societies. I have learned to trust this voice in my research practice, which guides my sense of timing, and when and how to engage in the yarning process. Meditation practice cultivates humility, care, and the capacity to listen deeply.

Sitting With Country

While my personal meditation practice had mostly taken place indoors, since beginning my research journey, I have begun to make a regular practice of sitting outside and extending the practice of quiet awareness and deep listening to Country. When I started my research ritual, I just included going outside, but since sitting with Stuart and learning about Yarning with Country, this aspect of my practice has been much more intentional. I have experienced a shift from listening and feeling the environment as a “setting” or series of discreet sense perceptions, to listening and feeling the environment as a being who communicates to me through sense perceptions but also through experiences, intuition, insights, and heart-knowing. I have the experience of listening and relating with Country in a way that has developed a sense of belonging and relationship I hadn’t experienced before. I feel held and guided by Country through the practice. Some of the other things I learn from spending time intentionally listening to Country are patience, a sense of humor, not taking myself too seriously, and remembering that I am a part of the whole situation. I also think being on the Land and bringing my attention to deep listening hone my capacity for receptivity which is essential for effective listening in research. The listening practice I cultivate with Country includes listening with my whole body and spirit, and as Miriam-Rose Ungenmar describes, listening with all of my senses (Hughes & Barlo, 2021). I think this listening practice is essential for being able to hear deeply what people are communicating in a yarning process, and also to hear what Country is contributing, and what is required of me. Much like meditation, sitting with Country fosters humility and care, and inspires a sense of reverence and appreciation.

Prayer

My meditation practice has always involved prayer: prayers of thanks for the teachings and practice, for the preciousness of life, for the opportunity to connect with teachers, and for the motivation to learn and wake up to reality and not squander my life. I pray for guidance. I offer prayers which speak my intention to be of benefit, ask for support, and invite a kick up the bum if I’m off track. In my research ritual, my prayers include asking daily that my research not cause harm and be of service, that I receive guidance about the next step, and that I may be able to hear and heed what is moving and seeking expression through my work. I pray things like if it is better for me to talk with this person, may the way be clear, and if it is better for me to wait, may I recognize that and practice good timing. I pray that I may be receptive and I think the act of prayer actually cultivates receptivity. There is a quality of opening in prayer which undercuts the attempt to control or manipulate. And sometimes I get really clear messages. I was scheduled to go and pick up an Elder in community and was thinking that the car trip would be a good opportunity to broach the possibility of his involvement in my research. And the day I was meant to go, we had dangerous flooding and the appointment was canceled. Several months later, he contacted me at a time when relationships in the community had shifted significantly and asked if I’d like to speak to members of the community as part of my project. Another time I invited a friend over for tea and thought it might be an opportunity to speak with her about my project. For some reason, and uncharacteristically, my dog barked during the whole visit and made it impossible to have a proper conversation. I ended up having a conversation with her a couple of months later, in her backyard along the river on her own Country, which was a much more appropriate context for talking about the project and asking her advice. I have a deep, implicit, and overwhelming trust in timing or emergence, but the ritual of prayer helps remind me of that and practice daily letting go of control. I think it also trains me in being receptive to the messages from the world. My experience is that prayer helps to undercut ego and center the intention in my work to be of service, which in turn fosters humility and generosity.

Offering

Part of my meditation ritual is making offerings of water, flowers, tea, light, and incense. The practice of offering in the Buddhist tradition is about cultivating generosity. There is an aspect of appreciation, but also undercutting the tendency to hold onto things out of fear or self-preservation. Generosity is about extending myself to others, and ultimately recognizing that we are always already bound up together anyway. In my research practice, offering is about what I can do to acknowledge and communicate respect for research participants, people who are sharing their gift of Knowledge with me. In practice, it involves making food for research yarns and leaving enough for people to take home to their families. It involves thinking about what would make participants feel comfortable and providing as best as I can for their needs. It also has to do with an attitude of opening and service—recognizing the generosity of participants in offering their time and their gift of Knowledge and reciprocating with respect and appreciation. In the context of working with Elders, it also means communicating respect for their Knowledge and position through looking after their needs in informal contexts outside of just the research process. This requires positioning myself in community contexts to be available and to be of service.

As I mentioned earlier, the people participating in my research are people I have worked with in community over a number of years. Their participation in the project is based on our existing relationships of trust and reciprocity. I was in a meeting once with members of local Aboriginal organizations and we were working on a youth employment strategy. The strategy was modeled after a few projects we had done together with young people. I was drawing a picture to try to illustrate the model we were working on, and at some point, I said something like, “I’m not really sure what I have to contribute to this model.” One of the people in the group just laughed at me good-naturedly and said, “You’re here aren’t you?” So, I think sometimes it’s not about offering some “thing” as a clearly identifiable contribution, but rather offering myself and being willing to keep showing up in relationship.

Reading

My research ritual includes reading and writing. It is key to my practice that I come back again and again to the words of Indigenous Elders and scholars. This helps me locate my thinking and my practice within the context I am trying to learn from and with. I have also intentionally privileged the work of Indigenous theorists and practitioners as part of decolonizing research and pushing back against the tendency for Indigenous stories and Knowledges to be told through the filter of non-Indigenous academic worldviews. The potential irony of this is not lost on me as a non-Indigenous academic in training so I continually try to position myself in my research as a learner writing about my learning process, rather than as an aspiring expert.

Reflexive Writing

I have worked to maintain a regular practice of journal writing throughout the research process. The significance of this part of the research ritual is to include reflexive practice in my work. I reflect on what I am learning and how I am putting it into practice in my life. Often, the salience of insights or experiences does not come to the surface until I put pen to paper or fingertips to keys. There is a quality of learning from my own experience through writing which is similar to the way I sometimes don’t know how I feel or what I think until I begin to share it with another person. The ritual of reflexive writing also helps me track my learning process over time. I can see clearly in looking back over past writing, particularly during periods of struggle, self-doubt, and confusion, how my learning has developed and how the most challenging periods have provided deep experiential learning. The practice of reflexive writing helps me develop a deeper trust in the process, which extends to my experience of yarning with participants. There is a discipline in listening and holding space without interrupting or redirecting the conversation, which is honed through allowing my own experience to unfold over time.

Family

It perhaps sounds strange to include family as a research ritual, but my research is about Place and Relatedness, which naturally brings me to explore and engage more deeply with my own relations and the places with whom I have relationship. Although this did not form part of my original research ritual, it has been essential to my research practice that I engage with and reaffirm my family obligations as part of my research journey. I have spent time with my father tracing his family line and spoken to my mother about her reasons for not wanting to explore her own family history. I traveled back to Texas where I grew up, expecting to focus on connecting to the Place, but found myself instead in the web of relatedness, fulfilling a role at the death of my cousin’s husband which was mine alone to fill. I believe I have no business trying to learn from Indigenous principles of kinship and place without meeting my obligations in my own family and attending to history and relationships which have been disrupted, especially through addiction and family breakdown. I believe attending honestly with my own family and history and complicated relationship with place helps me to be open and vulnerable, and therefore capable of actually learning something through the research process.

Research Ceremony

I have described the rituals that make up my personal daily, or regular research practice. I see this part of the process as preparing me for research, aligning me with my intention and purpose over and over again, and helping me cultivate the attitudes, values, and skills which I need to be a good Indigenist researcher. But these practices also form the nuts and bolts of my research engagement with participants. For example, before I go to yarn with someone, I make sure that I start the day with meditation and prayer, go out and spend time sitting with Country, stilling myself, listening deeply, asking for guidance, and reiterating my intention to open and be receptive to whatever is being expressed and respond appropriately to that. I prepare food to bring and think through what else might make the other person comfortable and ease their experience. I arrive early, as a sign of respect and also so that I am settled and ready to listen and attend to them, rather than rushing, or preoccupied with my own thoughts. The values and attitudes described above provide the foundation for showing respect, listening deeply, and offering my full attention to participants.

Similarly, when I have transcribed the yarn and go to spend time with the data, I follow the same process. I meditate and pray. I sit out on Country to just be, listen, and share my intention and ask for guidance, before I pull out the transcripts. And I spend time with transcripts while sitting on the ground and touching the land. I take my time reading and reflecting and listening for what is speaking through the page and also through the environment. I listen to the creatures. I feel the air on my skin. I take my time to feel what is moving, what is emerging, and what wants to be shared or written about.

And when I meet again with research participants to go over transcripts, share what I think is emerging, and seek guidance and clarification on how to move forward, I go through all of these steps again.

So, in my experience, the rituals of preparing for the research process and trying to develop myself as a worthy recipient of the gift of Knowledge are the same practices I use in the actual process of yarning, and in the process of analysis. At every stage, I am trying to practice generosity, receptivity, respect, trust, and care. Some of this is honed through personal practice and my relationship to myself, my research participants, and with Country. But much of it is also developed through my experience of being mentored and trained through intentional relationship with my supervisors.

Training and Mentoring Through the Supervision Relationship

As discussed earlier, Indigenous Knowledge is relational (Barlo et al., 2021). Seeking to develop research relationships with participants, including Country, other human beings, and Knowledge, is not theoretical. It requires actually participating in relationships. In the context of learning to be an Indigenist researcher, a key training ground is the relationship between PhD student and supervisors. At its best, this relationship works across two modes of teaching and learning, which don’t always fit comfortably together. In a dominant academic context, the supervisory relationship includes the supervisor providing guidance and instruction about the overall process of research, pointers on the specific canon, which is relevant to the discipline, and often direct training in a particular method. Depending on the discipline and the style of the supervisor, the student may work on joint projects or the supervisor may only provide external guidance. All of these aspects of training a researcher are relevant in the context of Indigenist research.

However, Indigenous supervisors are often Knowledge Holders in their own right and the process of teaching Indigenist researchers-in-training includes mentoring students not only in how to participate in the ceremony of research, but ultimately in how to lead the ceremony. This means providing students with opportunities to participate in the research ceremony, slowly develop their skills and understanding, and then supporting them to lead their own research ceremony. This is a necessary learning process which looks differently depending on whether students have existing relationships with Indigenous Knowledges and communities, whether they are researching within their own community, and what their background is within academic research processes. In any case, the learning process needs to include opportunities for students to practice their research skills and their human being skills. Part of this training may include students learning how to navigate relationships with Knowledge holders and understanding the appropriate way to behave in different contexts.

In my case, a key part of the supervisory relationship has been receiving mentoring in the yarning process through yarning with both of my supervisors. In this process, the roles have shifted naturally over time from my supervisors as mentors who are teaching me a research method which I am learning as a student, to my supervisors in their role as Knowledge Holders, sharing with me as a researcher preparing to accept the gift of Knowledge and carry it responsibly and accountably. My part in the relationship is enacting the ritual of a learner, or a researcher-in-training, and carrying out the responsibilities of that role as discussed above. I do my meditation practice and sit out on Country before I meet with my supervisors. I reflect on my intentions as a researcher and prepare for our conversations so that I don’t waste their time, which I respect and value. I often bring food and prepare enough for them to take home to their families. I practice listening well. In many ways, I have naturally shifted over time to relating with my supervisors as Elders.

I also share of myself as a whole person, which I hope communicates that I value our relationships as whole people. When we meet together, we don’t just talk about my research project; we talk about how we are traveling in the world. They have met and spent time with my partner and my daughter. I have met and spent time with their families. There is trust and genuineness in the relationship, and a level of vulnerability which allows for and invites deeper learning and the sharing of Knowledge.

It feels possible and safe to engage in an open and vulnerable way because the relationships are characterized by mutual respect. It is easy to imagine dangerous or unhealthy power dynamics in a supervisory relationship, particularly in the context of trying to engage relational Knowledge systems within hierarchical academic structures and in learning institutions which, like the broader society, are rife with the intersecting violence of colonization, racism, patriarchy, and heteronormativity. Despite the fact that both of my supervisors are well-known scholars in their fields, and I have tremendous respect for their knowledge and experience, I’m not really drawn to academic rock-stardom and I trust myself and my own knowing. I think this helps to keep my side of the relationship balanced. My perception is that we each navigate these relationships with considerable care, and as a result, trust and ease have developed over time. There are many things I can learn from each of my supervisors, and from our relationships, but that also requires me being clear with myself about what is appropriate for me to learn from them, and also trusting myself and my own intuition and life experience. My perception is that they are also very thoughtful and intentional about what is appropriate to share with me and how it is appropriate to mentor me as a researcher-in-training as my understanding deepens (hopefully!) over time. We have developed a healthy relationship where there is mutual respect, and at the same time, we don’t take each other too seriously. As a result, we sometimes have conversations where it feels like Knowledge is really moving and I come away with profound learnings from the engagement.

Through enacting the relational practice of yarning in our supervisory relationship, including the preparatory practices discussed above, we naturally invite and develop new relationships with Knowledge, ourselves, and each other. The learning and training process is thus a relational research ceremony in its own right. And the learning doesn’t happen in a formulaic way. My supervisors didn’t suggest that I ought to start treating them more like Elders or spell out that I should behave in our supervisory conversations as though we were having a formal research yarn. But along the way, in the process of learning the yarning method, and engaging in the principles and protocols that go along with the methodology, the roles naturally evolved, and keep evolving, so that I can’t help but recognize and respect their Knowledges and want to behave myself in a way that communicates that respect—for them, for the Knowledge they hold and share, for the relational process, for the Places we gather. And learning to behave in this relationship, in turn, is training in how to communicate respect in the research process altogether. This is the process of becoming ready to handle Knowledge accountably and transitioning from learning the research ceremony to learning to lead the ceremony. The more I engage with the research rituals I discussed at the beginning of this article, the more I am open and available for what they have to teach me, and the more I learn through the supervisory relationship.

What Is the Outcome of a Ritual?

Like many Australian universities, we have a workshop offered each year called “how to manage your supervisor.” Shawn suggested during the process of writing this article that I could write about how I manage my supervisors. But on reflection, how I “manage” my supervisors is much like how I “manage” my research participants and my research project altogether. I do my best to practice my research rituals, to perform my role in the ceremony as a learner first, and ultimately as a leader of the research ceremony. I pray. I meditate. I listen to Country. I make offerings. I read the work of people I respect. I write and reflect. I attend to my family obligations. I am constantly balancing these rituals with going to work and doing the rest of everyday life. As I said in the beginning, I forget about them a lot. But when I remember, and to the best of my ability, through each of these I try to cultivate openness, humility, generosity, good listening skills, trust and intuition, and respect. This has developed into what my relational research methodology looks like in practice.

The research questions guiding my PhD are, “How do I learn respectfully from Indigenous systems for maintaining balance and managing relationships among humans and with the Land? And how might the broader community learn respectfully from these systems, especially in the context of conflict?” The research rituals I discussed above, and the training and mentoring I have received in relationship with my supervisors, have gone a long way to answering the question. Ultimately, I think I am learning how to behave properly in relationship, which is a system for maintaining balance among humans and with the Land.

Conclusion

I have been struggling with how to close this discussion, so I went back through my process: I meditated this morning, offered a lhasang,⁵ and prayed for guidance about where to from here, and then I went out the back and sat on the ground under a mango tree in the mid-morning sun. I read a bit of Singing the Coast, a book of stories by Gumbaynggir Elders written and translated so that coastal dwellers can develop a new relationship of care with the Country. And then I wrote a bit in my research journal (Somerville & Perkins, 2010).

Since my last journal entry a few weeks ago, this whole area has been hit by the biggest flood in White fella memory. Hundreds of people are still gutting their homes, living in temporary accommodation, and trying to figure out what to do next. The rivers are choking with the rubbish they took in and there are fish kills up and down the coast. Going through my research ritual this morning, I can’t help but feel into the visceral, immediate reality of that and reflect on conversations and activities from the intervening weeks of grief, clean-up, and community reckoning. It feels important to share because my research process is happening now within and alongside everyday life in this place. Whatever preparation I go through as part of this research has to be relevant and responsive to the actual world. My PhD will eventually be finished (one can only hope!), but the process of learning to be in good relationship—with Knowledge, with my research participants, with my supervisors, with the Country with whom I live, with my family and broader community—is ongoing. So too are my commitments and accountabilities in each of these relationships. I believe the contemplations at the beginning of the article are worthwhile for any of us pursuing higher education research: How do we cultivate the values and practices that make us receptive to Knowledge and skilful in our communication and sharing, and how do we learn to conduct the ceremony in a way that is aligned with our intentions and responsibilities and responsive to the needs of our participants and communities? In particular, you might reflect on what you do in your own cultural and geographic context to cultivate respect, receptivity, generosity, trust, compassion, and care, and how you develop your skills of attention, deep listening, and service. I share my experience thus far in the hope that it may support others preparing for research and bringing that learning into everyday life.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

ORCID iD

Margaret Hughes

Notes

Author Biographies

Margaret Hughes is White settler American living in Bundjalung Country and a PhD candidate in indigenous philosophy at Gnibi College of Indigenous Australian Peoples, Southern Cross University, Lismore, New South Wales, Australia. Her research is about learning respectfully from indigenous systems for maintaining relationships of balance among humans and with Land.

Dr. Shawn Wilson is from the Opaskwayak Cree Nation. He lives on Syilx territory in the Okanagan region of British Columbia where he is an associate professor of Indigenous Studies in the Department of Community, Culture and Global Studies at UBCO.

Dr. Stuart Barlo is an Aboriginal man from the Yuin nation, situated on the far South Coast of New South Wales, Australia. He has developed an Indigenous research methodology using the Indigenous Australians’ understanding of the concept of yarning and its underlying principles and protocols. He is working to open up discussion on the theory surrounding the concept of the agency of Indigenous knowledge.

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