Abstract
A rich phenomenon with inherent ambiguities calls for a characterization that preserves those shady edges, rather than being drowned in the pretense that there is a formulaic and sharp delineation waiting to be unearthed … Amartya Sen, Pathologies of Power, p.xiv
Many years ago as a novice MSW student, I was introduced to the lofty idea of a “paradigm shift” (Kuhn, 1996; Tyson, 1995); I remember thinking “what is that?” and hoped that it wouldn’t hurt much. Over time, I became acquainted with a number of ontological and epistemological debates (Tyson, 1995) and concluded that they were … boring. I preferred studies that tried to captured the messiness of the human condition—the problems that arose in specific contexts and the courage required to explore solutions, however imperfect (Farmer, 2003; Kennedy, 1997; Klinenberg, 2002; Wilson, 2009).
Over time, I became the kind of scholar who believes in the provisional and fluid nature of social artifacts and their empirical shortcomings that limit our ability to truly “know” many social phenomena. Among such relics are the troublesome “society” or “community” which we all recognize as more than a collection of people. Some argue that such objects can be understood as the sum of the relationships that people and groups hold (Bhaskar, 1989, 1998). Ostensibly, those relationships proceed from particular social arrangements, which in turn reinforce the very structures that generated them and define social life (Farmer, 2003; Goffman, 2014; Klinenberg, 2002; Venkatesh, 2006; Wilson, 2009).
As a critical realist, I am guilty of being a postmodern sympathizer. I can’t help it; I am interested in human activities, namely “helping” and “teaching,” both fluid, time sensitive, and culturally bound enterprises. Rather than being “a dead end,”—an odd depiction that presumes a straightforward pathway to traverse—postmodernism fosters diverse ontological and epistemological positions that affect the way researchers produce and interpret data and sensitize them to the actual viewpoints of the individuals they study. Such pluralism allows for a more comprehensive analysis of complex human phenomena that may be easily overlooked precisely because they are temporal and context dependent (Hood, 2016). In short, this pluralism transforms “subjects” into “people.”
The opening quote from Amartya Sen—ironically the same scholar Caputo et al. used to support their particular interpretation of social work research and its role in development of future social workers—serves as a reminder that the profession addresses “rich phenomenon with inherent ambiguities.” As a field called to care for vulnerable populations with numerous, complex, context-dependent problems, social work research is as imperfect and imprecise as its many dedicated practitioners who labor frequently with limited resources. Even so, we strive to understand these problems on multiple levels—personal, organizational, policy—and we use that knowledge to learn from our mistakes, propose new solutions, and teach the next generation. In the end, we need epistemological pluralism to guide the investigation of clearly defined problems. For example, we need to understand factors that contribute to child maltreatment and family dissolution while not losing sight of nebulous private dilemmas that generate these unhappy outcomes. Such are the virtues of postmodernism; a reminder of what can be learned when we pay attention to imperfect, unpredictable humanity. Postmodern constructivist approaches remind us that social work, while concerned with the empirical, will always be something of an art form (Rapoport, 1968; Reamer, 1993; Sheppard, 2006). The contributions that grace this issue illustrate how much both are needed.
This issue opens with a career interview of Ann Hartman, a major figure in Social Work in the United States and abroad. In the spirit of co-construction, Catherine Riessman and Karen Staller opt to present the interview in a way that preserves the conversational nature of the exchange but also provides a historical context and commentary for those less familiar with Dr Hartman’s life and times. Among scholars, she is known for her groundbreaking editorial Many ways of knowing, which advanced ontological and epistemological diversity (Hartman, 1990). In the interview, Dr. Hartman argues that research should be fitted to the needs of practice, not the reverse. However, she considers her most notable scholarly contributions to be those which provided new tools to social work practitioners, most notably the eco-map and the genogram (Hartman, 1995; Hartman and Laird, 1983).
Vered Ben-David explores how the messy processes underlying the termination of parental rights can lead judges and child welfare professionals to construct views of the child–parent relationship that support the severing of ties, regardless of evidence to the contrary. Most poignant are depictions of parent–child attachments at the point of termination that disagree markedly with earlier accounts (when reunification seemed more likely). With the change in context, a different narrative materializes. This study raises a number of thorny questions about parental attachments that persist well after parental rights have been severed. How do we understand these attachments? Why are we so eager to discount such affections in the face of parental failure?
Similarly, Lisa Bunting and Anne Lazenbatt examine three biographical accounts of parents who have faced multiple adversities, and their experiences with child welfare interventions. They argue that a narrative approach can provide a more nuanced portrait of the parents as people and add insight into how to better support them and their efforts to develop alternative outcomes. This is particularly true of families with complex needs. This study reminds us of the tragic personal histories that underlie every child welfare case and the limitations of interventions solely focused on child safety.
Kerry Thomas and Debra Rickwood explore the focal shifts one young woman makes in her ongoing recovery from mental illness by following her through three separate admissions to a residential mental health unit. Although markers of change are well-documented in the recovery literature, this study describes how the person was buoyed by the support offered in a recovery-oriented residential mental health facility. Moreover, the case study illustrates that repeat admissions, frequently touted as relapses or failures, actually assisted this woman’s progress.
In apparent anticipation of the claim that postmodernism would be declared a blind alley for social work research, Sui-Ting Kong, Nadera Shalhoub-Kevorkian, and Dorit Roer-Strier present exactly the kind of observations that transform a presumed dead end into an effective pathway to understanding. In her article, Sui-Ting Kong writes about an “ethical, epistemological and practical need to recognize formerly abused women’s central role in developing domestic violence services and related knowledge.” Kong calls for methodological innovations that include such stakeholders. Toward this end, she proposes a merger between Cooperative Inquiry and Grounded Theory Methodology—Cooperative Grounded Inquiry—to promote the participation of survivors as both service developers and knowledge generators.
Likewise, Nadera Shalhoub-Kevorkian and Dorit Roer-Strier offer an innovative framework for conducting research in conflict zones with members from opposing sides. Jewish and Palestinian social work researchers sought to examine how the loss of a home during an ongoing political conflict affected families. The authors recount that such a project, conducted by a research team with representatives from opposite sides, affected the team’s perception of “otherness and otherization.” An analysis of the group dynamics involved revealed the humanizing effects of the inquiry on team members. Such an unanticipated outcome arose from the researchers’ efforts to: (a) see and acknowledge the other, (b) emphatically listen to and acknowledge the suffering of the other; (c) allow perspectives of dissent, pain, and resilience; and (d) create a “safe haven” for the researchers to work together. The authors argue that such group reflexivity can lead to “emancipatory consciousness and academic activism.”
Marjorie Silverman also explores the effect of the researcher’s reflexivity on the process of data collection and analysis in a videographic study of familial caregivers of older adults. The author considers the way her social location and role shifted throughout the study and affected her work with the camera, her momentary ethical decisions, and her perceptions of the participants’ realities. She explains how reflexivity contributed to the creation and resolution of ethical tensions in the research space.
In addition to these scholarly contributions, this issue includes two review essays on books intend for a lay audience but with particular insights for students and practitioners. Wendy E. Shaia provides a thoughtful appraisal Why Are They Angry with Us? Essays on Race (Davis, 2015). The titular question, posed by Davis as a child, is explored through a series of essays that draws from his experience as an African American man and scholar. Deeply personal and intentionally non-academic, the author highlights the need for systematic inquiry into structural forces that undermine improvised communities.
Karen McNamara, Deborah Gioia, and Shawnisha Hester, three former and current mental health practitioners, praise African Americans and Depression: Signs, Awareness, Treatments, and Interventions (Hastings et al., 2015) as “well-researched, warmly personal, and culturally sensitive.” The reviewers argue that by incorporating race and poverty, untreated mental disorders and substance use disorders could be better understood. Through a nuanced view of depression, Hasting et al. sheds light on how positive cultural expectations of strength and resiliency might contribute to treatment disparities for African Americans by inhibiting help-seeking. This complexity reminds us that addressing structural inequities requires attention to cultural issues as well (Wilson, 2009).
As one can see, postmodern research methods clearly have an important place in the discipline. Far from being a “dead end,” the articles and the review essays showcased in this issue take us down new, fruitful pathways. They reveal the myriad ways in which actors—clients, practitioners, and researchers—construct their reality and produce a “type” of social work practice. Such work becomes critical in the on-going endeavor to engage in practice that might be deemed as “transformative.” As such, I am reminded by Dr. Hartman that “the boundaries of our profession are wide and deep … No one way of knowing can explore this vast territory.” (Hartman, 1995: 4). There is nothing like a supposed dead end to remind us of all the places we have yet to go.
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.