‘Hard to reach’

We like some sorts of jargon. ‘Hard to reach’ is the sort of jargon I do not like. 

‘Hard to reach’ does not sum up something that needs a whole page of writing to explain.

‘Hard to reach’ does not have a specialist exact meaning that everyday language can’t provide. 

What does ‘hard to reach’ mean? 

It is jargon used by organisations to talk about people.

It is usually used as shorthand for ‘People who have rights under the Equalities Act’. It is also usually treated as if people with rights under the Equalities Act are a problem that needs fixing. 

‘Hard to reach’ is not Easy Read. When we do Easy Read, we need to know what people were thinking when they used the phrase. Then we can pick the right Easy Read words.

Here are some meanings. Do any of them feel right for how you use the jargon? 

People who have rights under the Equality Act. Say that, not ‘hard to reach’

People we exclude by how we do things. Say ‘people we aren’t reaching’ Get an independent audit to see how ‘business as usual’ affects people. Once you’ve done it, you will be ahead of the game next time you do an equality impact assessment. 

Go talk to organisations that represent people covered by the Act. If you can’t reach people directly right now, pay the organisations to do it for you. 

People who aren’t in contact with us. Say ‘people we aren’t in contact with’. And if you don’t know why because you don’t have a way to find out, talk to us. We can sort finding out, so you at least know what the problems are.

To Alan

In memory of Alan Armstrong

 

Missing you, Alan.

Pioneer. Working class man who made good. Risk taker. Actor. Game to try anything.  

The gift of baseball caps with logos, so we both knew which hat I was wearing when we talked.
The resilience.
The quiet strength.
The solid, thoughtful man.
The sideways look which I knew meant he had seen something I hadn’t.
The silence unless he knew you’d listen, but then the wisdom when you did.
The mad-cap workshop ideas. Alan and the party blowers, charades and jargon busters.

The actor, the willingness to put parts of his life in the public domain while keeping a private self.

His patience with me when I talked over him. My growing respect for his intellectual ability.

Alan the PhD supervisor. It was Alan who suggested asking how people feel when consulted. In the university, we hadn’t thought of that. It was the research’s missing piece.
Alan the co-author.
Alan the idea co-generator - your space, my space, shared space; side by side coproduction.
Alan the trainer of doctoral students and early career researchers
Alan who went from outsider to rubbing shoulders comfortably with professors and students alike. I think Oxford was the turning point. You saw yourself through other eyes, and you saw what others had. And you wanted it. You quietly and doggedly worked for it.
Alan who wanted his next career move to be blazing a trail into academia.


Alan, I wish it was you doing this, submitting a thesis for doctoral examination.
But you knew that me doing this would open more doors for you. You trusted I’d use any extra authority and power in the way I always do - to create space and wedge doors open with your steadying and grounding support and encouragement. Together, we would take on the world. We were both stronger together, and I feel your loss deeply.

We can’t continue this academic journey together now. You’ve left me to carry on alone. And I don’t know anyone quite like you. But one day there will be another 'Alan', and I’ll try to be ready for them so we can both stand on your giant shoulders and take on the world from where you left off.

Reflections as I (finally) finish my thesis on why it took me two decades to start

Retrospective

I wrote this in 2015. I'd not long had my 50th birthday and I'd been invited to swap from a quick 'in and out' one year Masters by Research to a full blown PhD. 

If I'd known what the next six years would hold, I would not have had the courage to take the leap. But I didn't, so I did. 

I stumbled across this tonight. Turns out I still don't know the answer. But at least I have now remembered the question!

I've had people suggesting, encouraging or pushing me towards a PhD for about 20 years.

I have been tempted. But I've always drawn back. It was never that I doubted my ability to produce work to PhD standard, although sometimes I doubted my character and ability to stick to the same thing for three years.

One reason has remained constant. If my main aim is to change the world, is it worth three years of my life to complete a PhD - bearing in mind that "good enough" research to help me and others change the world could be done in a much shorter time, albeit without the academic rigour or standing (but still of more rigour and value than, dare I say, much commissioned research),

The other reasons have changed down the years.

When I was 30, I thought I was too old to do another three years of study.

When I was 40, I rebelled against a society that gave extra value and status to the knowledge of people with a PhD compared to the knowledge of people who were living the lives being researched by those with PhDs. A few people I knew within disabled person led organisations did suggest there was a need for people like me to "infiltrate" academic life and take on the status symbols of that life so I could work from within to change how research happens. But although the idea of infiltration appealed, I lack the skills to be that person. I'm a bit of a bull in a china shop when it comes to politicking. I also know myself, and think if I had chosen this route, I would have "turned native" and begun to believe the myth that my knowledge had greater standing than someone else's because of my PhD.

By the time I was almost 50, I had rebelled against anything that involved bringing together the knowledge, insights, time and effort of many people but crediting only one of them with creating new knowledge. After all, why should only one person get their name on a PhD? Sadly, you can't award a PhD to a collective body, only an individual body. And, anyway, that might not be the full answer because it is important to recognise who has contributed what. While I am adamant that I don't want to take credit that isn't due to me, I am equally adamant that I should get credit that is due to me.

Who does what and who should be credited is something people can get heated about within inclusive research. So here's my position:

·                  there are different kinds of knowledge and skills. We need them all. If we don't need them all, then we shouldn't be working together as a team. So I don't agree with the "everyone does everything" approach. I believe in everyone using their knowledge and skills for a common purpose, and laying their knowledge and skills at the disposal of the rest of the team.

·                  some research-generated new knowledge is a team effort. If it's a team effort, the whole team gets equal status, acknowledgement and should have had equal pay while doing the work.

·                  some research-generated new knowledge depends on the additional work of one member of the team, as they take what the team came up with, re-interpret, add new insights and create something new based on their additional work. That could be someone with a learning difficulty taking the team's report, thinking about the needs of the self-advocacy movement, adding their personal insights to take the ideas of the report further and then presenting the information to the self-advocacy community. This could be someone with a PhD taking the team's report and writing a paper that re-frames the research in the light of a particular social theory. This could be a support worker, producing a training manual based on the research findings. And the person who has put in the additional effort should get the acknowledgement and status for this additional work.

And now I'm 50. 

I no longer think I'm too old to do a PhD. 

I've got to a place, thanks to Barod, where I don't need to worry about getting above my station and believing I'm special because I have a PhD. 

So can a PhD be done that attributes contributions fairly and accurately? Maybe.

Here's what I'm thinking:

Imagine a research team. They work in line with the first two points I made about inclusive research. They co-author a number of publications. Then the third point kicks in. Anyone from the team could then choose to take the publications and use them as they wish, and be credited for that additional work. If anyone chose to do the additional work needed to turn the publications into a PhD by publication, then that person gets named on the PhD for that additional work. 

Could the solution be that simple? Right now, I don't know. But I could be about to find out. 

The sweet shop window: An allegory about the world as lived and the world as socially researched

This morning I decided the world of blogs was a better place for this way of telling a story than my (soon to be written and submitted) doctoral thesis. And so I cut it from there and pasted it here. 

The sweet shop window

I belong in the world where we use everyday reasoning to make sufficient sense of our lives to create adequate social order so we can interact and work together as some kind of society. I do not want to leave that world to join the academic world.

But my everyday reasoning is proving inadequate. I cannot make adequate sense of what I am observing and experiencing in relation to public involvement in policy making. I suspect that the academic world may have more adequate tools for making sense of my observations and experiences.

I stand outside the academic world, looking in like a child looking into an old-fashioned sweetie shop, at the array of theoretical approaches, lenses, perspectives and stances on offer from the academic world.

I enter the shop.

Once inside, I discover I am expected to choose just one jar. I am then expected to stand inside that jar, looking back out at my world through the lens of just that jar. I am expected to become expert at understanding that jar and its contents, and learn to ask questions of my world that are appropriate for sweets in that jar.

Do I want to be on the outside looking in? Or on the inside looking out?

If I am on the outside looking in, I cannot explore the jars.

If I am on the inside looking out, I can only see the outside world through a narrowly focused lens.

     But what if…

What if I ignore the convention, go inside the sweet shop, browed the jars, pick and mix those that look promising and then assemble and reassemble my selection until I find a pattern that makes adequate sense – at least to me – of my observations and experiences of public involvement in policymaking?

Implications of the sweet shop for research design

My purpose for being in the academic world has been to find and create academic tools that can help those in the world beyond academia and those in the academic world to value each other’s knowledges. My territory was public involvement in Welsh Government social care policymaking.

To be led by a set of clearly defined research questions would have meant adopting an academic map of the territory I wanted to explore. Instead, I wanted to embrace what I brought with me into academia as an older, deeply embedded, highly reflexive student. And for me, that meant enquiring how others inside and outside of academia have made sense of the territory as I explored and charted the territory for myself. By meandering and exploring the territory, I believe I have found a destination worth visiting. [Spoiler: you'll have to wait until I've actually written the thesis to know where that destination is!]

One caveat: what I have termed a destination is better considered a scenic resting point at which to break a journey or, in the language of Deleuze and Guattariz, an intermezzo (1987:12).

• Reference
• Deleuze, Gilles, Félix Guattari, and Brian Massumi. 1987. A thousand plateaus: capitalism and schizophrenia.

What do Easy Read and qualitative data analysis have in common?

I'm going to assume you know what Easy Read is. If you don't, check out Planet Easy Read. 

Easy Read relies on images and words. A good rule of thumb is that if a sentence needs two images, then it should be two sentences. If one image covers more than one sentence, you may be able to condense what you are writing.

Some words and phrases hide so much. Those two words 'qualitative data'. What image would you use? If there isn't a single image, then what is being masked from everyday view by the phrase? If a conference full of qualitative researchers were asked to submit a single image, there'd be quite a variety of images. Perhaps someone has done that! If not, perhaps they should. 

The sort of qualitative data I'm picturing as I write this blog is one familiar to many researchers: a set of transcripts from conversations, interviews and focus groups. 

A standard (pre-software days) approach would be to read, re-read, make some notes and then take highlighters to the text. You stare at the highlighted parts. Sometimes a word or phrase leaps to mind that sums up the essence of why you highlighted it. These words and phrases become 'provisional codes'.  

In my semi-techie way, I copy & paste my highlighted fragments into Excel, so each fragment has its own row in a worksheet, together with a column to identify which transcript it came from, and a column for its provisional code. 

I look at my provisional codes, and the text associated with them. Does some of the text need moving to a different provisional code because as I look at all the fragments of text, I realise I've mis-allocated text. Do I need to change the name of the code because everything seems to hang together but only if I change the word or phrase used as the code? Have I conflated different ideas under one code and need to split that provisional code into two or more? 

This is almost identical to how I produce Easy Read, except when I produce Easy Read I don't have to do it by myself; I always co-produce it with someone who relies on Easy Read as a way to access information. You can no more plonk a pretty picture and expect it to make the text more 'accessible' than you can plonk a nice-sounding code and expect it to make what the data is saying to you more 'accessible' to you. And yet that is often what happens in Easy Read - and sadly can happen in qualitative research too.

Both Easy Read and this type of qualitative data analysis involve taking large volumes of words and making meaning with and from them. In both, the starting point is a highlighter pen to identify what (in your eyes) is important. In one, the meaning-making moves on to adding a provisional image before shuffling back & forward between image and text until satisfied that the image means the words, and the words mean the image - or near enough! In the other, the meaning-making moves to adding a summarising word before shuffling back and forward between code and text fragment (or free node - or whatever terminology you use) until satisfied that the code fits the words, and the words fit the code.

There's going to be more I need to say - but for now I must dive back into qualitative data analysis because this doctoral thesis is not going to write itself!

Applying sociology

Sociology is too useful to be allowed to hide in universities.

Social theories of culture: we create meaning as we interact. That means we can learn and choose to interact in ways that create different meanings from the social norms. Is that a lever for changing social norms? Still not sure, but it makes it easier to work as equal colleagues in a world that says we cannot be when we know meanings aren't fixed.

 

Membership categorisation: if membership categories exist, can we play with the signifiers for categories to get ourselves put into a different category? Conclusion: yes. We call it 'wearing the right shoes'

 

Ethnomethodological disruption experiments: knowing about these takes the sting out of situations where we think we are acting normally but others act as if we are conducting a disruption experiment. It makes us proud to be naturally disruptive, rather than scared or angry at what had been incomprehensible or offensive reactions to us.

 

Wittgenstein: why do we end up in meetings where people are using the same words but seem to be talking at cross-purposes? Probably because we are picturing different things as we say the word. So let's go round the room and check what we are picturing. Job done. We know why we are talking at cross-purposes and can do something about it.

 

Goffman: front stage/backstage, framing, Othering. These concepts and language give us tools to understand and communicate effectively about how life works and in doing that, it makes it easier for everyone to see ways to play the game differently.  

 

Post-structuralism: the relief that dividing things into two groups (binary thinking) is an idea not a reality. This means we can escape the binary thinking that has stymied our attempts to be ourselves in a world that wants to divide us into 'disabled' and 'normal'. 

Becoming Welshflier

We all have a personal identity - how we see ourselves.

And then we have a social identity - how we are seen and the roles we play in relation to others.

If we are very lucky, there is a good deal of overlap. 

I'm one of the Women's Equality Network (WEN) mentees for 2020, and I've been taking the opportunity to try to develop a professional identity that sits comfortably with who I am and what I want to achieve.

It's been a bit of a Goldilocks experience. First I was too focused on how I want others to see me. Then I was too focused on how I see myself. And - finally - I think I've got it just right. 

I am me. Being me is enough. I do not need to try to develop a 'not-me' persona for the sake of making others more comfortable around me, or getting public appointments. Who I am is enough for me, and it is the best that I can offer others.

It comes down to silly things, superficial things. 

• I knew I wanted to change how I dress and present myself, because I wasn't feeling the confident, professional person I wanted to be. And that was a good judgement call on my part. But... I thought that meant a suit and makeup. It doesn't. For me, it means a shaved head and rainbow stitched soft leather Doc Martins, with whatever clothing is suitable for the weather hanging comfortably and confidently in between. It's my Welshflier identity. 

• I thought my welshflier@ email address looked childish and would put off anyone recruiting for strategic professional roles. So I created a new 'proper professional adult' one. That wasn't a success. I *am* my digital identity - I *am* Welshflier. So if the name doesn't fit, it's a good indication that neither would I. 

I poured everything into trying to construct a professional persona that I thought would get me where I want to be.  It sucked the life out of my soul, which I am sure showed through in the applications which were not successful. 

This is where being on the WEN mentoring scheme helped. I have learned to own my identity as Welshflier. It means I can be confidently me, knowing that 'me' is an incredible patchwork of strengths and flaws, all woven together. 

And so I applied for another public appointment, but this time as myself. As I thought how to present 'the real me' in the application, I might as well have been singing along to 'This is me' with the cast of The Greatest Showman. 

The days of being an unhappy chameleon, unsuccessfully trying to adapt myself to make others comfortable are over. Long live Welshflier!

Fortunately, part of 'me being me' is a desire for others to shine and grow, so I like to think I won't do too much damage by being me. If anything, I may be less socially inept than when I was trying to be what I'm not.

I needed a head and shoulders shot for someone. Can't say why yet! But let's just say that being me paid off and my application as myself was successful. I almost rushed round the house looking for a smart jacket so I'd 'look the part'. Fortunately I caught myself in time. And so, this is me.