Abstract
Transgender (heretofore shortened to ‘trans’) people remain largely excluded from involvement and leadership in the research conducted with their communities. As a result, few trans insiders (i.e. trans people who are also researchers) are ever in the position of designing, conducting, and disseminating knowledge from trans research. As such, social narratives of trans experiences are often inaccurate, lacking nuance, or directly damaging. This paper argues that insider–outsider IO research exists on a value ‘staircase’, moving from no involvement to full leadership. Using this staircase model, the researchers suggest that elevating and empowering trans people to consult in, conduct, and lead trans research benefits both the trans and research communities. Meaningful trans involvement in research provides more in-depth data, builds more constructive rapport with community members, and produces more effective research than the norm of purely outsider research in the field. The paper then details the results from a study of 6 trans women’s experience of undergoing IO-led trans research, with Shoshana as the main researcher and interviewer. The study identified three main themes: ‘The Impact of Trans-Led Research,’ ‘Constructive Approaches to the Research Process,’ and ‘Community-Controlled Narratives as a Priority’. This paper concludes that IO-led research facilitates an empowering research process for participants, communities, and researchers, and that future research in the area should consider trans representation and control as a priority.
Our own narratives
‘I got to speak openly and freely about who I am in a way that nobody has heard before, or heard for a long time’—Abbey, research participant
For trans people, documenting and disseminating experiences is an inseparable aspect of how knowledge is shared between and within communities; this includes knowledge about how trans people survive, thrive, create, relate, and experience pleasure (Bellwether, 2013; Bornstein, 2013; Bornstein and Bergman, 2010; Boyd and Ramirez, 2012; Coyote, 2016; Glennon-Zukoff and Mikalson, 2014; Serano, 2016). In the realm of trans research, this means that trans people should ideally be included throughout a project, from inception to dissemination (Adams et al., 2017; Wiggins, 2019). However, in the realm of academia, most trans research is run with little to no input from people with lived experience (Reisner et al., 2016). As a result, academic narratives of trans experiences are often inaccurate, incomplete, and at times wholly incorrect (Bouman et al., 2016; Johansson et al., 2010; Klein and Gorzalka, 2009; Manieri et al., 2008; Wierckx et al., 2012). It is therefore crucial to evaluate the role of IO-led academic research, and how it benefits researched communities (Singh et al., 2013).
This paper details the outcomes of what is currently a relatively miniscule body of literature: trans research that involves not only trans participants, but also trans researchers as study leaders. In order to explicate the significance of trans-led research in the field, the authors will first discuss the theoretical underpinnings of insider–outsider (IO) research, a research paradigm that has been shown to be both effective and, in many cases, preferable for the researched groups. This will then lead to a discussion of the term ‘Insider-Outsider Research Staircase,’ wherein the authors discuss the escalating effectiveness and community benefit of IO research as we climb up the ‘staircase’ toward greater trans involvement and leadership in trans research. Next, the paper will detail outcomes from the authors’ own research on the impact of IO trans research on trans participants, including their sense of trust, comfort, and control with regards to the data they are providing. Finally, the authors will provide brief reflections on their research process and what participating in this process means for their work down the line.
The impact of insider–outsider research
It is important that we first define what we mean by a trans insider–outsider. Most importantly, we would like that definition to remain broad: there are many lived experiences under the trans umbrella, and there can be no monolithic guideline for exclusion or inclusion from the criteria of ‘trans researcher.’ Trans researchers can be publicly out, or largely private about their status. They can be undergoing medical transition, or not. It is ultimately a matter of self-definition: any self-defining trans person has a potential stake in trans insider–outsider research. The concept of the trans insider is not intended to enforce the trans/cis dichotomy (Ansara and Friedman, 2016), but rather highlight the unique contributions of self-determined trans people within a field of research that is currently dominated by voices without significant lived experience of gender diversity. These voices carry with them a deep understanding of trans history, a nuanced understanding of trans-related language, an inroad to trans spaces, and other factors that are crucial to constructive and culturally appropriate trans research (Vincent, 2018).
As researchers, we take the position that Dwyer and Buckle (2009) term ‘the space between’ (p. 54); that is, Shoshana as a relative insider, nonetheless recognizes the ‘outsider’ aspects of their experience. Therefore, the term used throughout this paper will be Insider–Outsider; as Hayfield and Huxley (2015) suggested, while some people may have a wealth of shared knowledge with researched community members, they are nonetheless outsiders to many other experiences of those peoples, and that balance must form a part of the researcher’s comprehension of their role. IO-led research has played a significant role in producing in-depth, rich, and community-approved knowledge across multiple marginalized groups (Braun et al., 2013; Breen, 2007; Gair, 2011; Hayfield and Huxley, 2015; Kanuha, 2000; Voloder, 2013).
First, these effects are achieved by facilitating rapport-building between researchers and the researched community (Hayfield and Huxley, 2015; Hellawell, 2006; Kanuha, 2000). By having some shared experience, researchers are able to develop relationships quicker and gain communities members’ trust (Voloder, 2013). Secondly, there is a sense of accountability to communities when a person undertakes any type of sociological research (Mayrl and Westbrook, 2009), which is significantly amplified when a researcher is also negotiating being an insider to their researched community (Jacobs-Huey, 2002; Taylor, 2011). By privileging and actively undertaking this accountability, researchers are more likely to be able to accurately describe communities’ lived experiences and produce ‘actionable knowledge’, which might benefit the researched community (Coghlan, 2007: 300).
Finally, IO-led research is often able to facilitate a research environment that is significantly more immersive and reflexive than more traditional observational/ethnographic/’empirical’ approaches (Turner and Norwood, 2013). By acknowledging and negotiating the embodied reality of being an IO, in all its complexity, researchers are able to use their own experience to further enhance any data collected within a research environment (Turner and Norwood, 2013). This can sometimes take the form of a ‘human ecology’ framework (Wilson, 2008), wherein the researcher engages with the researched community from the perspective of inseparability, co-reliance, and co-responsibility. In this way, IO researchers might also find themselves acting as “insighters”, people who are equally immersed in the academic community as they are within their lived experience communities (Sharp, 2020). This broad-reaching approach produces output that results from a shared process of exploration and documentation, leading to rich and true-to-form narratives (Blythe et al., 2013).
Critiques and management of insider–outsider dilemmas
Although IO research brings a broad range of benefits with it, there are some ethical and procedural issues which IO researchers must address. First, IO research increases the chances of a loss of ‘objectivity’; an IO who does not maintain a conscious balance between knowledge collection as a researcher and as an IO runs the risk of over- or under-emphasizing ‘mundane’ information, which is either superfluous or useful-but-hidden to the greater public, respectively (Hewitt-Taylor, 2002). This means study outcomes may present an inflated perspective on a particular issue, or alternatively exclude important information due to the researcher’s personal familiarity with the topic. Second, IO research can cause role confusion, or blur researchers’ and/or community members’ expectations (Asselin, 2003; Birch and Miller, 2000; Kanuha, 2000). This may result in unclear boundaries between researchers and communities, which could damage rapport or cause data to be inappropriately collected or interpreted. Finally, IOs are potentially more likely to have to contend with complexities around researchers’ emotionality; research subjects’ narratives may be triggering or difficult for IOs in ways that they might not be for relative outsiders, and IO researchers must therefore equip themselves to deal with these potential difficulties (Blythe et al., 2013).
Although the dilemmas discussed above may pose some challenges to IO research project, IO researchers have a rich toolkit with which they can negotiate the potential pitfalls of their positions and roles. One consideration is that IOs have a choice of how much or how little of their own IO status they wish to include and utilize. Wilkinson and Kitzinger (2013) offered four types of engagement with IO experiences: minimizing, or excluding any personal experiences from a study; utilizing, or using IO status as a point of access to communities or as an element of analysis; maximizing, or focusing on autoethnography as a tool for understanding the community; and finally, incorporating, wherein a researcher’s IO status is integrated into the study, addressed in the output, and forms a part of how the project as a whole is conducted. This means that some dilemmas can be at least partially resolved by a more minimal approach to IO experiences.
Other tools available to an IO researcher include a range of reflexive practices. One approach is to utilize an insider–outsider research team as a means of triangulating data in a collaborative and reflective approach. Several authors have reported on the benefits of this approach, as the value of their differences strengths the overall outcomes (Bartunek and Loius, 1996; Thomas et al., 2000). Yet it should be noted that it is ideal if any outsider in such a team has ‘inside knowledge’ of the study population (Bartunek and Loius, 1996). Further, a team like this ensures that processes and outputs are appropriate for both community members and the broader public. One approach is to utilize IO and relative outsider researchers’ positions as a means of triangulating information, offering a collaborative reflective team approach, and ensuring processes and outputs are appropriate for both community members and the broader public (Court and Abbas, 2013).
Second, personal reflexive practices such as journaling allows researchers to review their responses and perspectives on the research process, and to utilize documentation of thoughts and considerations to form a further point of data triangulation in the analysis process (Couture et al., 2012; Humphrey, 2007; Madsen and O’Mullan, 2018). Finally, researchers may also incorporate the perspectives of the researched community into their own reflexive practices, by seeking out experiences and information, which expands their own standpoint on the topic and provides either clarity, challenges, or a widened comprehension (Finefter-Rosenbluh, 2017). This process may involve focus groups, consultation with other community members, or immersion in preexisting literature, stories, and other forms of knowledge (e.g. art, self-publications, music).
The insider–outsider research staircase
Having considered the benefits and dilemmas involved in IO research, it is also important to consider the nuances of IO presence in research. Roche et al. (2010) suggested that there are three types of IO participation in research: advisory, employment, and leadership. However, we argue that these are not simply discreet categories of involvement, but rather a ‘staircase’, with increasing value as one moves up the steps, so to speak. To begin, it is important to state that most current trans research lies at the foot of the staircase, on the ‘0th step’, where no IO person is intentionally involved at any point in the process (Reisner et al., 2016).
The next step up, the bottom step, in the staircase is a consultancy role, wherein people with lived experience may provide their perspective on some aspects of a study otherwise run by outsiders. While there are several studies, including national-level projects, which statedly include trans peer advisors (Strauss et al., 2017; Telfer et al., 2018), the influence and ultimate impact of advisors on the procedures and outcomes of the study remains relatively opaque. Telfer et al.’s (2018) study, for example, stated that they included trans young people and their parents as part of their consultation process, but did not provide any details regarding how the feedback from trans people was used. While consultation took place, it is difficult to decipher the weighting of each consulting party’s comments, and whether trans people were given any kind of veto on the final study outputs. Projects at this step run the risk of becoming a kind of tokenization, publicly involvement of trans peers in the study or project without guaranteeing a deeper engagement with the subject and/or communities, nor documenting their accountability and reflexive processes (Bishop, 2005; Manado et al., 2008; Nazemi, 2011). In turn, this tokenization may result in an incomplete picture or insufficiently detailed project framework, which may damage the study’s capacity to help the researched community.
The middle step in the staircase involves IOs being employed by the (outsider) research team. There have been several studies involving trans communities, which utilized peer ethnography and/or IO research assistants (Collumbien et al., 2009; Logie et al., 2017, 2018); these studies report significantly positive engagement with communities and easier access to more in-depth or hidden knowledge. While this step allows for more consistent IO presence within the project, the people in control of the study’s outcomes are often still outsiders. In both studies by Logie et al., it was unclear as to the trans researchers’ capacity to influence the study process and outcomes. Additionally, while it is important to include trans researchers on the frontline of the research, no information was given about the IO research assistants’ safety measures, and how they were or were not protected and debriefed while working with their community. The impact of research assistants and similar roles on projects are often either minimized or completely unacknowledged, despite the important role research assistants, particularly those who are IOs, play in mediating between chief investigators and researched communities (Deane and Stevano, 2015; Stapleton et al., 2014). While research projects existing on the middle step show a greater value placed on the role of IOs in community research, they nonetheless maintain the capacity to keep veto power on study procedures and outcomes in the hands of outsiders.
The highest step in the IO research staircase is trans-led research, wherein trans people hold a leading role throughout the research process. There is an increasing group of trans IO researchers who are contributing to the body of knowledge on gender diversity and transitioning (Ansara and Hegarty, 2014; Bornstein and Bergman, 2010; Hyde et al., 2013; Latham, 2019; Lowik, 2015; Rosenberg et al., 2019; Serano, 2016; Shannon and Smith, 2017; Stryker, 2013). Lowik’s (2015) study, as one example, was spearheaded by an out trans person who has worked in and around reproductive health for some time. They have utilized this position to bring further nuance and complexity to the discussion of trans-inclusive reproductive health practices by focusing on the history of trans medical struggles broadly and reproductive justice specifically. Positioning trans IOs as leaders in researching their communities harnesses the deep embodiment of the subject matter, which is facilitated by IO status (Johnson, 2018). This embodiment brings together all the positive elements of IO research discussed previously: easier access to communities, deeper rapport, more direct pathways to trust-building, a significant sense of accountability, a more collaborative approach to knowledge building, and ultimately the production of knowledge, which is more likely to aid the community and result in creating useful resources on the subject.
Insider–outsider teams
Although the staircase places high value and prioritizes the leadership of trans people in trans research, it is vital to note that teams with mixed/varying levels of ‘insideness’ and ‘outsideness’ often reap substantial benefits, and produce significantly different results compared to teams comprised entirely of either ‘insiders’ or ‘outsiders’. While relative insiders have access to deeper and richer knowledge, relative outsiders provide alternative perspectives on the subject, and can pose questions to the knowledge being produced, which evoke deeper discussions and challenge ‘common’ community ‘truths’ (Hayfield and Huxley, 2015). The aim of the research staircase concept is therefore not to denounce the unique (often multiple) lifeworlds, which outsider researchers negotiate (some of which are more in/outside than others) (Humphrey, 2007); it is geared at empowering and concretizing the importance of relative insiders, who are often marginalized and deprioritized, so that they may form a part of broader reflexive, collaborative IO or entirely insider research projects.
It is also worth noting that at times, cisgender researchers are crucial to the conduct of a trans study. While trans-led research does require trans voices involved throughout the research process, that does not necessarily mean that trans people must be at the front of every single task in the process. Several issues may arise, most notably regarding how ‘out’ a person is capable of being about their transness. Disclosure of trans status can increase the risk of social rejection and violence against trans people (Galupo et al., 2014; Lyons et al., 2018), and is therefore not always a viable option for trans researchers. In these cases, it is cisgender researchers who may have to compensate for a trans researcher’s safety concerns, whether by conducting interviews themselves, or being responsible for any other public-facing aspects of the research process. This may also extend further than the parameters of any given project; cisgender and transgender researchers working together may need to consider how their research output and collaborations look like into the future, and how safety, equity, and a collaborative spirit are maintained beyond any one study.
Experiences of trans-led research participation
‘[Having a trans researcher] was a big part of why I was really willing and excited to be involved’—Lilly
In order to gain a richer understanding of the impact that research at the highest step of the IO research staircase has on community members, we conducted a follow-up study to a previous data collection process undertaken as part of Shoshana’s Master’s program; Matt, the second author, was the project supervisor, and a relative outsider to the study population. The original study focused on trans women’s experiences with hormone therapy and sexuality (Rosenberg et al., 2019); as a trans IO researcher, Shoshana took Wilkinson and Kitzinger’s (2013) ‘utilizing’ approach, and used their IO position to aid in the recruitment and analysis process. This meant advertising their status as a trans person in the recruitment advertising and participant information sheet, and using a reflexive journal to contemplate their own understandings of themes, and how the study was evolving. Throughout the initial interviews, participants commented on the positive impact that Shoshana’s trans experience had on their interview process, which prompted this follow-up study. Although many findings reflected some of the research barriers and enablers identified by Owen-Smith et al.’s (2016) guidelines, the richness and depth of the qualitative data provides additional nuance and individual voices, and expands upon the considerations future researchers, IO or otherwise, should take when conducting trans research.
Methods
This study focused on interviews with six trans women who had participated in the previously described research study. Participants were originally recruited either by word-of-mouth or via an advertisement disseminated by Shoshana in several trans online groups and trans clinics. The advertisement included the sentence ‘my name is Shoshana Rosenberg, I am a trans woman completing my [. . .] dissertation,’ thereby directly stating their trans status. Each participant took part in a semistructured interview geared toward understanding their experience of participating in trans-led research on a trans topic. By considering trans people’s unique phenomenological lifeworlds as they apply to qualitative research itself, we were able to produce knowledge that challenges normative standards of research (Ahmed, 2006), thereby highlighting potential pathways for growth and reorientation in the area. The researchers conducted a thematic analysis using Braun and Clarke’s (2006, 2013) guidelines, putting interview data through axial coding and producing themes using participants’ own words where possible.
Themes
The impact of trans-led research: ‘I Don’t Have to Stop and 101 Every Term’
Participants described several positive effects of participating in a trans study led by a trans person. Katrina suggested that having a trans voice involved in the process of collecting, analyzing, and publishing this data ‘had more weight to it.’ Shoshana’s existence at the nexus of lived experience and academic capability provided a kind of credibility to the research that neither part would carry on its own; their transness meant they had more in-depth information, and their academic qualifications meant that researchers and others involved in the academic field would trust their voice over those of their non-academic peers.
Shoshana’s lived experience, and more specifically the assumption of a shared experience, was a significant factor for most participants. As Abbey commented, ‘there was a sort of openness available [during the interview, because] we’re both women, we both identify as trans, we both have this place of mutual understanding.’ She further stated that there was an almost a drive to justify her existence, but that by being interviewed by another trans person helped her feel that ‘we didn’t have to cover all those bases.’ Most participants reflected that knowing the researcher’s trans status either put them at ease, or as Vivian commented ‘[while] I don’t think [your trans status] made any difference to me personally, I can understand where it would for other people who experience a lot of negativity and a lot of backlash from being trans.’ Overall, it was recognized that at a base level, Shoshana’s lived experience as a trans person was a useful entry point to the study.
Vivian also suggested that the interviewer outright identifying as trans built trust with participants due to their shared lived experience, and that it aided in them developing ‘rapport quicker than if I was talking to somebody who wasn’t trans.’ Janey revealed that talking to a trans person about trans experiences helped her ‘talk more openly in a more honest way’ compared to talking to a cisgender person. Similarly, Katrina reflected that she ‘felt a lot more comfortable’ having a trans researcher conducting the interviews. These feelings of trust and comfort also extended to participants’ perception of Shoshana’s accountability to their research cohort, as well as the broader trans communities. Ella stated ‘you’re representing a kind of person that you are,’ implying that the researcher is indelibly linked to their researched community; whatever conclusions they draw about the trans experience in their publications will also be conclusions about their own lived experience and identity.
The final noteworthy experience in this theme was the counterpoint to trusting a trans researcher: multiple participants suggested that they would mistrust a similar study run by a cisgender person. As Lilly noted, ‘If it comes from a trans person, I know you have a vested interest in reporting the truth; you’re not doing this for shits and giggles.’ Abbey added that although she might still consider participating in a trans study run by a cisgender person, ‘there’s a framework already there,’ one which carries with it tropes, misconceptions, and other preconceived notions which she believed that she would then have to dispel. She continued, ‘I probably would have leapt at a chance to be interviewed by a cisgender person about these things, but I would probably feel as if I was doing my best to portray [the trans experience] accurately.’ Janey also commented, highlighting that this could be largely attributed to the fact that ‘a cis person is less likely to have a deeper understanding of trans experience.’ This mistrust also impacted whether participants would assist in snowballing a study; as Katrina definitively stated, ‘I’ll vet a random trans person’s study a lot more than I would a cis person’s study.’ Ultimately, by having a trans person control the study, participants experienced reduced anxiety or mistrust over the intention, baseline knowledge, and/or potential outcomes of the study.
Constructive approaches to the research process: ‘I Could Talk for Another Hour’
In addition to the interviewer’s trans status generally, participants also commented on some specific approaches to conducting the study, which provided them with a positive participation experience. Ella commented, ‘I feel like some researchers cultivate detachment as a way of doing their research,’ which she felt put her ill-at-ease and made participation less attractive, and a more unpleasant experience to go through. Participants discussed preferring a more informal approach to interviewing, one which showed a ‘shared understanding of [trans] language’ (Katrina), as opposed to a more clinical approach. Any researcher, regardless of gender, who is ‘friendly’ and ‘conversational’ (Janey), ‘free of any judgment’ (Abbey), and ‘shows an interest in the subject matter’ while being ‘open and honest and direct’ (Vivian) plays a vital role in a fruitful interview. Additionally, taking an open-ended interview approach meant that, as Lilly stated, ‘[I was] given the ability to just talk and go in whatever direction I needed to go in.’
Janey suggested that it was also important that Shoshana was upfront about their motives, not only about ‘the usual things of wanting to get that piece of paper and get your degree’ but also addressing ‘why have I chosen this topic? Why am I exploring this out of all the things?’. By addressing these questions, they were able to build deeper rapport and increase participants’ trust in the study and its outcomes.
Participants also commented on the importance of having a clear understanding of the process. In the original study, the researchers provided participants with an information sheet on the study as per university standards, and details regarding what the rest of the study’s procedure will look like (that is, further data collection, analysis, writeup), as well as what future publication might entail. While this is mostly standard research procedure, Shoshana ensured that they provided ample time for in-depth explanation of the study’s forward trajectory, and participants’ roles and rights along this path. For the researchers, there was an aspect of duty to this action, ensuring that participants were not left wondering about where the documentation of their precious and intimate experiences have gone. Abbey stated the importance of this transparency at length: [You] saying ‘here’s the transcript’ or ‘by the way if you’re not happy with this let me know, this is what I’m about to send off or what’s about to be printed up’ [was] really amazing. That was really cool.
This transparency was particularly important when it came to follow-up. Lilly described her experience participating in other trans studies: ‘[it feels like I say] “here’s my answers” and then [the information] disappears off into the ether and I never hear from [the researchers] ever again’. By providing follow-up and keeping participants informed of any outcomes from the study, the researchers were able to increase participants’ sense that this study was worth their time. Katrina, reflecting on her experience of the whole study, stated ‘it’s been worth the time, it’s been worth doing’. Vivian stated that she felt that Shoshana’s transparent approach showed her that her contribution ‘[has gone] somewhere, something did come out of it, something positive was produced and that was the paper [which] you provided back to me, which was my benefit.’ This is particularly understandable when considering several participants were concerned about whether any study was ultimately ‘going to be somehow used against trans people’ (Lilly). By being transparent and consistent throughout, and including participants in the publication process, the researchers were able to facilitate a research experience which allowed participants to feel valued, empowered, and able to feel comfortable and connected with their published voices.
‘I’m Pro-Research and I Want to Say My Bit’: community-controlled narratives as a priority
Most participants discussed the importance of having accurate trans narratives portrayed in research and other public realms. One significant concern was the potential outcomes of cisgender-led trans research. Abbey expressed concern about the potential for cisgender researchers writing about trans people for a cisgender audience to be ‘exoticising’ about their subject matter, and using it as a form of sensationalism. For Janey, knowing a trans study was not headed by a trans person meant she ‘wouldn’t be as confident that it would be used in a positive way’. This may be partly due to stereotypes and assumptions that are prevalent in public discourse, as Ella suggested. All participants expressed having experienced some kind of conflict between their lived experiences and the homogenous narratives that exist about trans women’s experiences of medical transition, sexuality, and other life aspects. These dissonances caused discomfort, misunderstanding, and caused some participants to practice caution when disclosing certain ‘non-normative’ aspects of their life as a trans person.
As a response to these pressures, participants expressed that participating in well-structured and respectful trans research had the potential to be a powerful counterforce to societal and academic misconceptions and inaccuracies. According to Ella, ‘it’s positive to get more academic studies of transness out there so that we can understand it better’. There is also the matter of the type of legitimacy often bestowed upon communities by well-executed research; by presenting a community’s voice in what academic and Western standards of knowledge presentation view as professional, organized, and clearly communicated, they introduce that community and their needs into the canon, thereby justifying further support/intervention/research. Lilly stated that her participation in the study ‘gives validity to an experience of a group of people that often doesn’t have a lot of paper validity’. The idea of validating the broad spectrum of trans experiences was one reflected by most participants, as each felt that current public knowledge simply fell short of their experiences. By disseminating more accurate and nuanced information, researchers could potentially improve knowledge both for trans communities, as well as broader society. Misconceptions do not only cause conflict between marginalized groups and the greater public; they are often internalized by those marginalized groups, causing confusion and cognitive dissonance.
Ultimately, the highest step in the IO research staircase helps facilitate an aspect that is crucial to humanizing, understanding, and supporting marginalized communities (trans or otherwise): community control over their own narratives. Katrina felt that this control was crucial in academia: ‘I would rather be involved in [trans research] and get that information out than see the state of trans research as it is continued’. For Katrina, the majority of existing academic knowledge on trans people was misinformed at best and harmful at worst, and she felt empowered to participate in changing that knowledge landscape. Participation in the study was not only empowering, but something which participants saw as benefitting their community more broadly. In response to a non-academic article published from the original study (Rosenberg, 2018), Lilly said there was ‘universal happiness within the Melbourne trans circles’ due to the nuanced and accurate details of trans experiences which were described. The trust, rapport, accountability, and transparency facilitated by the IO nature of the study produced a sense of control and authenticity which many participants found to be transformative. By ‘[normalizing] trans voices in an academic context’ (Lilly), the trans community is given the opportunity to counter decades of lackluster, inaccurate, or plainly damaging research, and its trickle-down effects into public discourse, medical practices, and government policies.
Personal reflections
In the spirit of Wilkinson and Kitzinger’s (2013) notion of incorporation, we felt that it was important to include a note on both authors’ personal experience as researchers in an IO research team. This allows for an open presentation of our experiences and provides readers with a more nuanced understanding of the ways our personal lifeworlds interacted with those of the participants, as well as with the larger body of analysis.
Shoshana
I found the feedback from participants to be incredibly overwhelming and exciting. In many ways, seeing my own experiences reflected back to me was just as important as those instances in which my narrative differed widely to that of a participant. Being trusted with intimate, and sometimes challenging, stories was a significant responsibility, one which I still carry with me as I undergo the rigamarole of publication. I have found the process of researching within my own community to be as powerful for myself as a person and a researcher as it seemed to be for many of my participants. The sense of duty, power, and search for legitimacy expressed by participants in the above sections was one I feel privileged to share.
Matt
As a cisgender man, with a passion for qualitative research and developing an understanding of marginalized populations, I was delighted when Shoshana approached me to be her supervisor for the original research study (REF). This research idea was exciting, and our ensuing professional relationship fostered the current study to come to fruition. I am deeply honored to be able to add my relative outsider point of view to this study, a contribution I hope has been beneficial to the research and trans people alike. I have also gained in my understanding of the research participants as I ‘see’ through the eyes of the insider researcher. This has been a privilege. I believe that our IO research team offers a different point of view that has deepened and enriched this research.
Conclusions
This paper has explored some of the ways in which IO trans studies can facilitate a positive, constructive research environment for its participants. IO trans research has the potential to:
Encourage study participation
Provide credibility to trans narratives in academia and beyond
Develop trust, rapport, and accountability between researchers and researched communities
Create an interview environment which is comfortable, safe, and encouraging
Facilitate a sense of contribution, empowerment, and value for participants
Build and disseminate trans narratives which are nuanced, authentic, complex, community-validated, and ultimately beneficial to trans communities
Ultimately, trans voices must be given priority in conducting trans research. Despite the complexities of IO research, the positive effects for participants, communities, and IO researchers provide significant impetus for further trans-led research. By giving trans people control over their narratives, we are able to facilitate their social inclusion, empowerment, and self-determination. Future trans research should place IO contribution and leadership as a high priority, in order to fully reap the benefits detailed in this paper.
Footnotes
Authors’ note
Shoshana Rosenberg is also affiliated with the Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society, La Trobe University, Australia.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
