Abstract
It is now well established in anthropological/ethnographic/participant observation research literature that the researcher is the prime research instrument. Field research of these modes can only be accomplished with a heavy investment of the researcher’s self. This form of ‘deep’ engagement in the field and research process has profound significance not only for the researcher in that other aspects of their ‘selves’ are discovered or changed. This and the necessary state of ‘immersion’ also have an epistemological significance for the descriptions, representations, interpretations, and knowledge claims made in reports of the research. In assessing ethnographic accounts, we, as readers, do need some insight into these processes in order to assess the validity of what is being claimed. The development of this reflexive stance is now commonly accepted to be entailed in the ethnographic process and product. While extended reflexivity made available to other researchers is probably a feature mainly of doctoral dissertations, many published ethnographies often contain relatively brief sections that pay lip service to ‘positionality’ and ‘reflexivity’. While some methodological details are deemed necessary in publications, extended reflexive accounts (despite the reflexive turn in the social sciences) do not seem to be generally encouraged by publishers. This is a great pity as novitiates and experienced researchers alike are denied benefit of the fieldwork reflections of others. It is extremely refreshing, encouraging, and timely, therefore, that Oxford University Press (OUP) have published Shulamit Reinharz’s deeply insightful reflexive account, derived from her analysis of fieldnotes and field-diaries (a kind of anthropology of research) developed in a yearlong (1979–1980) study of aging in a kibbutz in Israel.
Her starting point is that ‘… deep immersion in another social world compels the researcher to re-examine himself/herself and perhaps to change’ (p. 2). Using a concept of the ‘self’ derived from symbolic interactionism, she found that her fieldnotes suggested a ‘tripartite division among selves in the field and these are: research selves; personal selves; and situational selves’ (p. 5). The organization and content of chapters have the following analytical framework:
Research selves. Chapter 1: The Desire, Opportunity and Preparation to Do a Study; Chapter 2: Becoming Independent of the Sponsor; and Chapter 3: Gaining Allies, Overcoming Antagonists, Being Tested.
Personal selves. Chapters 4 and 5: Understanding the Elderly as a Consequence of My Mothering Role; Chapter 6: Being a Woman, a Wife, 33 Years old, a Jew and a Potential Member; and Chapter 7: Being an American, an Academic, a Sociologist/Anthropologist/Gerontologist, Dancer and Daughter.
Situational selves. Chapter 8: Being a Worker, Being Temporary; Chapter 9: Being a ‘Volunteer’ (Neither a Volunteer nor a Hired Worker) and Being Sick; Chapter 10: Being a Neighbor, a Friend, a Homemaker, a Hostess and a Leaver; and Chapter 11: Theoretical Conclusions.
Shulamit argues that
These were (some of) the selves that I brought to the field and, although somewhat subject to change, would be part of me wherever I went—a mother, a woman, a particular age (thirty-three at the time), a Jew, an American, an academic, a sociologist/anthropologist/gerontologist, a dancer, and a daughter, the latter two manifesting themselves only briefly. Each of these selves provided a window through which to see the other, to be seen, and in my case, to understand the elderly kibbutz member in his or her environment. This multiplicity of selves served the function of providing different members of the kibbutz with ways of connecting with me and me with them. (p. 141)
These selves are, of course, relational, being positive or negative as research conditions, participants, and contexts change. Thus, they feed into the ongoing process of complex decision making and trade-offs in the research, many of which change the researcher and lead them to discover new (or formerly hidden) aspects of the self. Shulamit is also making a great contribution here to developing feminist methodology through analysis of the identities and roles of a mother, wife, daughter, woman, homemaker, and hostess. As part of this, there is an excellent description, discussion, and analysis of the personal, methodological, and epistemological complexities and challenges of the researcher also being a mother living with her young child in a research setting for the duration of the research. This is the first account I have ever read of this situation and of the experience and the promises and perils ethnographic research holds for the ‘mother’ researcher. This is no autoethnography, however. As the book’s main focus is on the personal and epistemological involvement of the researcher in clearly defined empirical research on a substantive topic—it is clearly autobiographical-ethnography.
Shulamit should be congratulated for writing (and OUP for supporting the endeavour) such a compelling, accessible, and pathbreaking book. After reading it, I felt I had actually experienced some of the immersion achieved by the author. It is this feeling, I think, that is the main strength of the book and will be communicated to ethnographic researchers who are in the process of finding out that the ethnographic project is not for the faint hearted.