New transcription routines

I have been preparing transcripts from virtual class recordings and interactive/co-generative interviews for my dissertation project.  As I have done in the past with other projects, I am creating verbatim transcripts in a standardized format to “aid the handling, comparison, and sharing of language data” (Lapadat & Lindsay, 1999, p. 70). 

My primary tool for transcription, is InqScribe software, which has many features that I have come to rely on, especially the control for playback speed and the embedded timecodes that enable me to jump to specific locations in my audio files. However, one aspect I do not like about InqScribe is its output. I must copy and paste the raw transcript into a Word document, where I bold, italicize, and perform other formatting functions as needed.

My journey down the transcription road (more like grueling death march) happened to coincide with my recent venture into the case study literature.  For this reason, I closely attended to what the case study methodologists had to say about interviewing and transcribing, and I wondered if my readings would influence my process of data collection and handling.  In fact, they have, and I have added a few "new routines" to my process. 

Gisting

Somewhere along the way, I heard about this practice of capturing the "gist" of researcher-participant exchanges  -- maybe in ethnography? I can't remember. 

Nevertheless, to gist an interview or conversation, the researcher writes down everything that he or she can recall as soon as possible following the encounter. 

Gisting is essentially a good habit of all fieldwork. We were taught in intro to qualitative research to immediately review notes and reflect in writing after the fact. Sadly, it is not a habit I ever developed. Typically, when I am in the field, I am running hither and yon, usually because I have overscheduled the day and am late to the next engagement. As qualitative researchers, this may be our most debilitating mistake in the interview process. I realize this now.

In the short passage on interviewing techniques in The Art of Case Study Research, Stake says that the single most important thing the case researcher can do is "insist on ample time and space immediately following the interview to prepare the facsimile and interpretive commentary" (p. 66). In fact, Stake argues persuasively against any transcription, saying the "facsimile" is all anyone really wants to see. Participants are likely to be put off by the length of a typical transcript and "the inelegance of their own sentences" (p. 66). 

Briefly, Stake's interview tips are:

1. rather than tape record or write furious notes, listen and make a few notes
2. ask for clarification
3. after the interview (within a few hours) reconstruct the account in your own words
4. submit the facsimile to the participant for accuracy and stylistic improvement

I think I have the first two steps down pat, but I am not prepared to give up recording. I am a fairly decent listener and always take a few notes, and my notes work like markers for later navigation through the recording. On the downside of that, I have never mastered the art of discreetly noting the passage of time or approximate minutes transpired during an interview. (It seems rude to glance at my cell phone or clock during the interview. I don't want to wrongly cue the speaker that we are out of time.)

Insofar as reconstructing the account immediately after the interview (Step 3), this is something I would like to do better. What I have been doing based on Stake's advice is to deliberately stop after every 10 or so minutes of transcription and write and reflect on key ideas, impressions, and insights that accumulated in my brain. This has become my version of gisting the interview, and I'm very pleased with the results! When I finally finish transcribing -- and, unfortunately, this does drag out the transcription process even more so than ever -- I have a nice narrative summary of the interview with my interpretive commentary woven throughout. I insert timestamps as critical reference markers, should I or a participant want to go into the original transcript to read the exact words. 

Maintaining trustworthiness

I am starting to include the gist of the interview with the verbatim transcript when I submit it to the interviewee as part of my new member checking routine. So far, I have received one reaction from an interviewee, and it was wholly positive.  Stake says to expect this. Member checking is a necessary step, even when participants don't respond. If the researcher is anxious his or her facts or interpretations are off-base, it is up to the researcher to probe more deeply.

Member checks are one of several strategies identified by Yamagata-Lynch (2010) for maintaining trustworthiness in activity theoretical studies (the method of my dissertation). Other strategies include prolonged engagement, persistent observation, and triangulation. I feel relatively confident about upholding these standards during my study, but I have never purposefully applied member checks before. This is new territory for me.

While Yin does not use the term "member check," he says a major procedure in doing a case study is inviting participants and informants to view drafts of the report. Yin fixates on "corroboration" and "validity" as the main reason for member checks. He says participants may disagree with interpretation but should validate facts of the case. The case study is not complete until the researcher resolves these disagreements. 

I would argue the purpose is to check interpretations for "coherence," per Piantanida and Garman (2009). Yin allows for this possibility, too. In cases where "validity" or "objective truth" may not be the point, the process of member checking is helpful for identifying different participant perspectives, which will be portrayed in the final case study report. And, Yin says, the researcher ultimately has the "discretionary option" and does not have to accommodate participants' reinterpretations (Yin, Ch. 6, "Reviewing the Draft Case Study: A Validating Procedure," para 3).

As with gisting, member checking adds time. Also, Yin advises, participant-reviewers may use the opportunity to open a fresh line of dialogue about the study. The researcher must plan ahead and budget time accordingly.

I have only started to do member checks, but to expedite the process, I am finding the Evernote notetaking app to be especially useful.

It was not my plan initially to use Evernote so deliberately in my data collection process. In January, during my very first interview with a teacher-learner, my digital audio recorder was making me nervous, indicating it was low on both memory and battery life. I didn't have a back-up recording device -- or so I thought! I remembered I could use the built--in recording feature of Evernote. I opened my iPad, opened Evernote, created a note using the participant's pseudonym as a title, and clicked on the Record Audio button in the top menu. With tablet devices becoming almost ever-present in daily life, it was easy to place the iPad unobtrusively on the table between me and the interviewee while we talked. It may even have been less distracting than the microrecorder.

Later, when I prepared to send the transcript with gisting to the participant, it occurred to me that I could use the Share tool in Evernote and the original audio file would embed in an email. So, I copied and pasted the gist and the transcript from Word into the Evernote note with audio and sent it. 

I am hopeful that the member checking routine will enrich my study. According to Yin, "Often, the opportunity to review the draft also produces further evidence, as the informants and participants may remember new materials that they had forgotten during the initial data collection period" (Yin, Ch. 6, "Reviewing the Draft Case Study: A Validating Procedure," para 2).

In the event this does not happen (and it may not), I still wonder if this could not serve as the basic premise of eventual follow-up interviews, asking participants to react to the short gist of their first interview (as opposed to, "What did you think of the transcript?")? 

Group update

Last week our group workshopped Brian's Chapter 3. I learned a lot from reading Brian's work and got some ideas about interviewing as well as a lead on another possible resource, ‪Learning From Strangers: The Art and Method of Qualitative Interview Studies by Weiss. The group also selected a reading for the week of  Feb. 24, Edwards (1998). We plan to discuss the reading and workshop some of Nalani's early coding efforts from a pilot study she conducted.

References

Lapadat, J. C., & Lindsay, A. C. (1999). Transcription in research and practice: From standardization of technique to interpretive positionings. Qualitative Inquiry, 5(1), 64 –86. doi:10.1177/107780049900500104

Piantanida, M., & Garman, N. B. (2009). The qualitative dissertation: A guide for students and faculty (2nd ed., Kindle version.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

Stake, R. E. (1995). The art of case study research. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications.

Yamagata-Lynch, L. C. (2010). Activity systems analysis methods: Understanding complex learning environments. New York: Springer.

Yin, R. K. (2008). Case study research: Design and methods (4th ed., Kindle version.). Los Angeles: SAGE.

New transcription routines

Boote & Beile (2005) take-aways

I am preparing a conference proposal based on a historical review of the literature I wrote last semester for one of my comprehensive exam questions, a question I had proposed in collaboration with my committee. I wanted to trace the origins of the conceptual construct known as TPACK (Technological Pedagogical Content Knowledge) because I thought it would be a major aspect of my dissertation frameworks.

Conducting the TPACK literature review taught me a lot -- mainly that I did not want to focus on TPACK! I decided that the current state of teacher development as it relates to the new literacies is less a problem framed by cognition (as in, developing TPACK) and more a problem with dispositions and mindsets toward new digital technologies. In other words, when teaching about and through 21st century technologies, we fail to acknowledge the fear and sense of disequilibrium that gives rise to the initial resistance among even the most gung-ho learners.

Still. I am pretty happy with the final outcome of the review. I enjoyed writing it and don't want my efforts to go to waste. I see value in the TPACK construct in that it provides a common language for researchers and teacher educators, and I found interesting intersections in the literature between the TPACK and new literacies discourse communities. So, I am going to submit my review of the TPACK literature to this year's Literacy Research Association conference in hopes of striking a chord with the niche group of new literacies teacher educators who annually attend.

Before doing so, I would not object if someone gave my TPACK review the once-over with the evaluation framework Boote and Beile (2005) devised for their analysis of doctoral literature reviews in education.

Boote and Beile pull no punches in their harsh assessment of the state of the literature review, and I wonder how my TPACK document would hold up to their standards, particularly the methodology criteria. To my knowledge, I did not describe the advantages and disadvantages of primary methodologies used in the field of teacher education and instructional technology, except to note the preponderance of quantitative studies and their ineffectiveness in "measuring" change in the affective domain. And that is teetering on the edge of the pitfall known as the "negative logic-of-justification" (Piantanida & Garman, 2009, Ch. 11, "Preparing to construct a logic-of-justification," para 4).

Take-away: I need to maintain a steady focus on the "pockets of discourse" where scholars are connecting on particular qualitative approaches (i.e. fruitful connections between Cultural-Historical Activity Theory and the New Literacies perspective).

Bridging, not filling, gaps
Approaching the literature review is an exercise in making connections as much as the actual writing of the review itself. Before I began the process of "immersion in literature" (Piantanida & Garman, 2009), I had already oriented to my topic of interest based on a combination of worldview and practical and professional experience. Boote and Beile (2005), Kilbourn (2006), and Piantanida and Garman all argue this point.

from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Kilbourn, for instance, says we don't so much "find" topics as we "construct" or "develop" them. He says, "Problems are usually constructed out of a complex interplay among one's own thinking about an issue, one's own experience, and one's understanding of the research literature" (p. 539).

What we identify as a worthwhile problem to pursue is partly determined by our own thinking, experience, and reading of the literature. It is highly subjective.

And Piantanida and Garman explain, "...[P]atterns of meaning are not embedded in the literature per se, but are forged in relation to the nagging issues that are pushing and prodding one toward a picture of one's study" (Ch. 10, "Developing a Mindset for Reviewing Literature," para 1). Moreover, the patterns and connections help clarify "how one's ideas fit into an evolving discourse about the topic" (para 4).

A good lit review is not just a summary of research; it is the foundation upon which the researcher puts forth his or her unique perspective.

However, in their assessment of 12 dissertations from three state-funded institutions, Boote and Beile found evidence to suggest that, for many doctoral students and their advisers, the literature review is a "hollow exercise" (p. 9). The review is treated as a means to an end, rather than an end in itself. We engage with the literature only long enough to find "the gap" that will justify our own study. Piantanida and Garman would call it just more academic folklore, a "misinterpretation of the expectation that the dissertation be an original piece of research" (Ch. 10, "Developing a Mindset for Reviewing Literature," para 3).

This misrepresentation is alive and well among my classmates and colleagues. Where do we get the idea that this is the purpose of the review? I certainly believed it, and I remember feeling envious when friends breathlessly delivered the news that they had finally "found a gap" in the literature for their dissertations. How many of us in our own reviews of the literature have skipped the discourse altogether, impatiently scrolling (or turning) the pages until we could rest our eyes on the all-important "findings" and "recommendations" sections of this-or-that study? We test the waters, rather than immerse ourselves in the discourse.

Take-away: Stop looking for gaps and look for opportunities to contribute to the ongoing deliberations on a topic within my field. My study should not propose to fill a gap; it should make connections across and between gaps.

"Crafting discursive text"
Piatanida and Garman describe the period of reading the literature as a time marked by confusion and feelings of incompetence. The incredible "Henny Penny" anecdote from Chapter 8 again comes to mind and should be required reading for all who are about to embark on the lit review journey.

Piantanida and Garman advise, "It is important to give oneself time to enter into the discourses, to read without necessarily understanding, and finally to read with enough understanding to begin crafting discursive text for the proposal" (Ch. 10, "Developing a Mindset for Reviewing the Literature, para 1).

By way of a somewhat tedious lawnmower repair metaphor, Kilbourn makes a similar point. He explains that the literature review is the route to writing the all-important problem statement (or Piantanida and Garman's "statement of intent"). Kilbourn says, "An educational problem gets translated into a research problem (1) when it is couched in an argument (an argument, not merely an assertion) that illustrates its educational significance and (2) when it explicitly refers to existing research" (p. 541).

The literature review, then, is integral to the study, not merely "tacked on," but interwoven in the context, motivation, and significance (Kilbourn, 2006). Kilbourn writes, "Articulating the problem in the proposal is one of the more difficult stages of a dissertation, one of the sweaty inclines" (p. 539).

from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I think the TPACK review did this for me. It pointed me to the less-understood phenomenon of teacher identity in relation to classroom technology integration. It goaded me to formulate a clear and (I hope) convincing rationale for the focus of my research.

So, contrary to popular belief, the literature review should not be put off until after the problem and methods are defined, nor should it be set aside as a "static artifact" upon completion (Boote & Beile, 2005, p. 11). This last bit of advice from Boote and Beile gave me pause because I really have not looked at my literature since submitting my proposal almost two months ago.

Take-away: Treat my dissertation literature review as a living, breathing document and stay engaged with the literature throughout the dissertation process.

References:

Boote, D. N., & Beile, P. (2005). Scholars before researchers: On the centrality of the dissertation literature review in research preparation. Educational Researcher, 34(6), 3–15. doi:10.3102/0013189X034006003

Kilbourn, B. (2006). The qualitative doctoral dissertation proposal. The Teachers College Record, 108(4), 529–576.

Piantanida, M., & Garman, N. B. (2009). The qualitative dissertation: A guide for students and faculty (2nd ed., Kindle version.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

Boote & Beile (2005) take-aways

Perspicacity or paint-by-numbers?

Good research is not about good methods as much as it is about good thinking. (Stake, 1995, p. 19)

Writing is thinking on paper. -- William Zinnser

Perspicacity 1936

For a Tuesday night class, I was asked to lead discussion on a reading selection about case study research in the field of literacy.

This was a prime opportunity, as I am in the middle of a self-directed, crash course on case study methodology for my own dissertation. Remembering the advice of a former university instructor who said that presenting a formal, scholarly talk on a subject is good preparation for the eventual task of academic writing, I used this occasion to sort out my nascent understandings of the case study literature, namely the works of two leading methodologists, Stake (1995) and Yin (2008).

First, to catch everyone up: Although I already have written and defended a dissertation proposal, I feel my research design, which includes case study, is flimsy. I proposed a project using Cultural-Historical Activity Theory (CHAT) and activity systems analysis within a case study, but I am not at all versed in case study method. In my proposal I devoted my time to a thorough treatment of CHAT, which is a substantive theoretical and analytical frameworks that does not provide a clear logic of design. Thus, in the literature, you will encounter CHAT theorists who specialize in other methods, such as design-based research, ethnography, and case study.

So, in consultation with my professors, I decided that part of my work this semester -- even as I am actively collecting data and beginning initial analysis -- would be to take a closer look at the case study tradition and develop an appropriate "logic-of-justification" (Piantanida & Garman, 2009) for its use in my study.

I began the presentation on Tuesday evening with the above quote from Stake and an image from Rene Magritte, whose artwork Stake references both on the cover and in Chapter 6 of his 1995 book, The Art of Case Study Research.

I loved Chapter 6 of this book. Stake demonstrates how epistemology is expressed through multiple overlapping and intertwined researcher identities: teacher, participant observer, interviewer, reader, storyteller, advocate, artist, counselor, evaluator, consultant. The researcher is all of these, but his or her "style" determines the emphasis given each role.

In a section titled "Case Researcher as Interpreter," Stake argues that "research is not just the domain of scientists, it is the domain of craftspersons and artists as well, all who would study and interpret" (p. 97). He connects case study to the Surrealist Magritte, who juxtaposed everyday images to make assertions about the world and humanity. "Magritte worked his white clouds against luminous blue sky again and again, drawing attention to ourselves as creators of meaning -- and to the artist as our agent, helping us toward new realizations" (p. 98).

I enjoyed Stake's discussion about "researcher as interpreter" and decided to include a bit of that in my presentation on Tuesday. I selected Magritte's Perspiracity as a discussion starter. I had to look up this word, which means "acute mental vision and discernment." I thought this connected nicely with Piantanida and Garman's discussion around the concept of phronesis, the wisdom and "theoretic perspective" that guides the researcher "toward a form of representation that can convey the complexity of the phenomenon clearly and persuasively" (Ch. 13, Warranting a Thesis, para 3). Stake simply called it "good thinking."

[Confession: As I browsed thumbnails of Magritte's art on the Internet, my initial reaction to the image of the stiff man in a suit painting a bird while studying what appears to be a common chicken egg was, "How sad, uninspired, and predictable." Maybe Magritte's title is a tongue-in-cheek joke? Still. Some scholars in the UK, at least, also made the Perspicacity and phronesis connection, as evidenced by the book cover to the right, shared with me by a classmate just this morning! Wild, huh?]

For the presentation on case study, I wanted to do something more than just deliver a tired, bullet-pointed explication of methodological conventions. So, I delivered a tired, bullet-pointed explication of methodological conventions -- with a twist. I tried framing the presentation (embedded below) as my personal process of constructing a logic-of-justification.

One idea, in particular, that I wanted to put out there is the novice researcher's struggle to break out on his or her own while self-consciously clinging to "prescriptive formulas" (Piantanida & Garman). This theme came out in full at the end of the presentation, during Q&A time, when I shared some of my own questions:

• Which perspective on case study (Stake, Yin, others???) is a good epistemological fit for my project? Do I need to align with one perspective? By paragraph three of his introduction, Yin already sounds more objectivist than Stake, using terms like "validity" and "chain of evidence." Also, in answer to the question, "How does one know to use case study?" Yin writes, "There's no formula, but your choice depends in large part on your research question(s)." This is opposite of an interpretivist mindset that would say the researcher's proclivities and epistemology determine the method/approach.
•  Where does the rich, narrative description (experiential text) of case study fit into a CHAT dissertation? As a stand-alone chapter?

I cannot help it. The novice in me craves scaffolds and step-by-step guidelines, which imposes a significant (productive?) tension vis-a-vis my desire to say and do something innovative and original. I am gripped by these competing mindsets (not to mention what a ticking clock and dwindling bank account are doing to my willingness to invest an "extra year" in the name of "scholarly integrity and perseverance.")

My project resides on a continuum, somewhere between masterpiece and paint-by-numbers.

Section Four of The Qualitative Dissertation portrays six students' maneuverings along this same continuum. Interestingly, of the six interpretive exemplars, I most related to the  journeys of Jean and Joan, who each produced highly conceptualized, arts-based inquiries. While I am not doing anything so artsy (I am doing one of the more hum-drum qualitative genres out there!), I appreciated their struggles "to come to grips with the issue of genre" in the midst of doing their studies.

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1T9_KtfS6XvpnpLQtHRkv6TqwS8g7PCi3o8GlB8AFxgA/edit?usp=sharing

References

Piantanida, M., & Garman, N. B. (2009). The qualitative dissertation: A guide for students and faculty (2nd ed., Kindle version). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

Stake, R. E. (1995). The art of case study research. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications.

Yin, R. K. (2008). Case study research: Design and methods (4th ed., Kindle version). Los Angeles: SAGE.

Perspicacity or paint-by-numbers?

659 project update, week of Feb. 4

I have been working on two aspects of my project over the last two weeks: conducting in-depth, unstructured interviews with literacy teachers and exploring the case study literature.

Interviews
Last night I completed another interactive interview/dialogue with a teacher from the reading specialist cohort that is the subject of my study. As I mentioned in my previous post, I have not been systematically reflecting on these unstructured interviews as they have been happening (four in the last two weeks, two face-to-face and two using Skype). I am at a point now where I am beginning to see connections and patterns, and, it's crucial I start documenting.

There are three levels of documentation I need to make: connections and patterns I am noticing across the content of the conversations themselves, ideas on how to improve the course experience for future reading specialist students (many of which can be implemented now, with the new cohort that just started the program), and my experiences with online interviewing. Unfortunately, all of my energy and attention seems bound up in ensuring a good online interview experience and quality recording. The participants have been positive and cooperative, but I am troubleshooting audio problems and getting poor sound quality, which is going to impinge on my transcription process.

In one failed interview attempt last week (this one using Collaborate -- the participant's preferred mode), the participant finally said she would prefer a face-to-face interview. So, I am now making plans to travel to her campus in a rural county, one hour northeast of Knoxville. (The technical difficulties with Collaborate had to do with a conflict between a Mac OS system update and Java, causing Collaborate not to launch properly. This conflict has been resolved.)

The case study literature
I have gathered texts by Yin and Stake as well as some miscellaneous articles and chapters on case study. I will be supplementing these with readings from Cresswell's Five Approaches. I began with Stake's The Art of Case Study Research, as this was recommended by one of my committee members. At some point before next week, I would like to balance out readings from Stake with some selected chapters from Yin's 4th Ed. of Case Study Research because this came highly recommended by another committee member.

My goal for the end of next week is to be able to say with some measure of confidence which of the two approaches -- Stake's or Yin's -- is the best one for an activity systems analysis, which is my ultimate purpose. In other words, I would like to build a logic-of-justification for a perspective on case study that aligns with my CHAT study. I know it's a backwards approach....

My initial impressions of Stake included some apprehension about his background in program evaluation, a perspective I thought would be ill-suited for the kind of work I do. I am encouraged, however, by his preference for instrumental case study work organized around issues, not  individuals per se. This aligns nicely with the tradition of case study within the literacy field, which has mostly been of the instrumental sort, according to Barone's (2011) historical review.

References

Barone, D. M. (2011). Case study research. In N. K. Duke & M. H. Mallette (Eds.), Literacy Research Methodologies (2nd ed., pp. 7–27). New York: The Guilford Press.

Stake, R. E. (1995). The art of case study research. Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Publications.

Yin, R. K. (2008). Case study research: Design and methods (4th ed.). Los Angeles: SAGE.

659 project update, week of Feb. 4

On writing: train of thought, experiential text, problem statements, and lit reviews

This week’s readings from Piantanida and Garman’s (2009, Kindle edition) The Qualitative Dissertation: A Guide for Students and Faculty provided a jolt.  That brief moment of glory following the proposal defense is definitely over. It’s time to get back to work, and by “work,” I mainly mean writing. 

I have a love-hate relationship with writing. One of my favorite quotes about writing, variously attributed, goes something like this: “I hate to write. I love to have written.”

What follows are reflections and questions on past and future writing endeavors. I then conclude with ideas for my first project report for EP 659, due Feb. 14.

Writing (riding?) my train of thought

As I began reading chapters 9-12, a message from last week’s class stood foremost in my mind: THE ONLY THING YOU ARE GOING TO CHANGE WITH YOUR RESEARCH IS YOU. This resonates with Piantanida and Garman’s assertions about the "centrality of writing as a way of coming to know" (Ch. 9, “Experiential Text as a Content for Theorizing,” para 12). This is the nature of interpretive and practice-based dissertations, and I best get on board with it.

It’s not like I haven’t heard this stuff before. Piantanida and Garman remind me of things I’ve read recently (Kilbourn’s extremely helpful essay on crafting the qualitative proposal and Richardson’s classic, “Writing: A Method of Inquiry”) and things I have read not so recently, such as Welty’s One Writer’s Beginnings. I read that in high school!

When preparing my proposal earlier this winter, I found the Kilbourn piece to be especially comforting; Kilbourn provides explicit guidance on technical aspects that Piantanida and Garman do not. For instance, his description of the research problem as a gradually narrowing “train of thought” helped me considerably in writing my first chapter. Kilbourn’s advice on tackling the problem statement from a qualitative perspective is much more practical than Piantanida and Garman’s recommendation to abandon the problem statement altogether. (I will elaborate on this in a moment.)

Nonetheless, it’s there in Kilbourn too: the needling awareness that your train of thought runs on a short, messy track. Eventually you reach the end of the line, and “you have tvo construct the path you want to take” (pp. 569-570).  Kilbourn echoes Piantanida and Garman’s theme of deliberation when he writes, “Thus, the framing and wording of the proposal should reflect an attitude of genuine inquiry—it involves a spirit of genuinely finding out rather than proving" (p. 537).

Expressing the problem, defining the dilemma

In Chapter 11 Piantanida and Garman describe parts of the proposal. In acknowledgement of the fact that A) the proposal must be organized in a way that  supports the student’s line of reasoning and B) each institution has its own rules for format, the authors take extra care to avoid prescribing an order of the parts.

I experienced this quandary myself and was glad that my department’s PhD handbook allows flexibility in use of headings and sequencing. For instance, due to the number of technical terms related to my topic as well as the general “newness” of my frameworks to my field, I felt it was necessary to include a lengthy list of definitions fairly early in my first chapter. Also, for purposes of improved flow, I incorporated a thorough treatment on study significance after my Chapter 2 literature review. Kilbourn’s suggestions for “sign-posting” and “metawriting” gave me the confidence to try this (p. 563).

As I mentioned earlier, I found the whole discussion of problem statements to be…a problem. Piantanida and Garman recommend not having a "statement of the problem" because it is a holdover of positivist/scientifically framed studies. Then, they go on to describe how interpretive research is concerned with  "perplexing aspects" of "complex" human affairs -- in other words, problems. I don't think stating a "problem" necessarily carries the assumption that a solution exists. Qualitative researchers make it their business to "problematize" taken-for-granted situations, to make the ordinary problematic. So why not a problem statement? 

Or, better, what about the term "dilemma"? Maybe we should call it the "statement of the dilemma." For example, in my current project, the broad issue or topic under examination is teaching and learning with and through technology, which most reasonable stakeholders would agree is not a problem per se. But, it is inherently dilemmatic. Explaining what this means is the problem statement.

So, like the case of Marjorie (“Henny Penny” from Chapter 8), who “aimed to elucidate the nature of the dilemmas so that she could make more conscious and deliberate choices about her teaching practice" (Ch. 11, "Practice-Focused Dissertations," para 3), my goal is to problematize conventional thinking around instructional technology and teacher development, that is, the traditional view that problems in IT are often conceptualized as “gaps”(gaps in access and performance, gaps in discrete skills sets, and so on). However, as these concrete and discernable gaps are closed (with more computers, more networks, more training, etc.), new (and less transparent) inequities arise. Hutchison and Reinking (2011) surveyed literacy teachers across the country and confirmed that, while issues related to network access and technology support were largely becoming resolved, two distinct levels of use and integration existed in schools. They referred to these levels broadly as “technological integration” and “curricular integration,” with the former reflecting a lower-level, superficial stance toward technology as “add-on” (p. 314).

I return now to Piantanida and Garman, who jettison the problem statement entirely and replace it with something called a "statement of intent." But this, to me, sounds like the classic "purpose of the study" section? Don’t I need both a problem (a perplexing phenomenon) and a purpose (what I intend to do about it)? 

Crafting experiential text

As discussed last week in class, Piantanida and Garman’s concept of “experiential texts” equates to what we traditionally call the “findings.” The researcher must create "as textured and nuanced a 'picture' of the study context as possible” (Ch. 9, “Purpose of Experiential Text,” para 2). The process of writing experiential text, linking conceptual points, and constructing the core thesis is recursive and arduous.

Compared to the painstaking attention to detail that quantitative researchers apply to the design and execution of their studies, the rigor of qualitative studies lies in the crafting of  experiential texts. These texts must evoke an empathetic response in the reader. More importantly, they must evoke questions. The reader should question simplistic interpretations and taken-for-granted assumptions in the workaday world. The reader should ask, "What would I do in this situation?" This sets the stage for the theoretic text and the concepts that the researcher will offer as "a heuristic map" to guide "wise action” (Ch. 9, “Experiential Text as a Context for Theorizing,” para 7).

Piantanida and Garman use the term "iterative interpretation" for this process of bridging situational details (the raw data from the study context) to the conceptual issue being studied. This opens the door for "theoretic interpretation," which means drawing on formal discourses and concepts to make meaning of the situation.

This is an area of need in my academic writing. I am creating those bridges, but they are shaky. As my committee members pointed out to me, I have this undeniable tendency to end my paragraphs with a quote from the literature. Their advice is straight out of AP senior English class: I must take better care to couch other's words with my own interpretation and commentary. Ack! I used to teach this stuff. Why can't I do it?

For this reason, I found the last question in Reflective Interlude 9.1 to be relevant but challenging: What can I do to practice iterative and theoretic interpretation? Now that my consciousness has been raised, I am not sure how to proceed other than to revise the most offending passages in my proposal and then turn my sights on future writing efforts, such as my imminent plunge into the case study literature.

Reviewing the literature

The literature review is a “discursive text” that represents “the diversity of thinking associated with key concepts in one’s study” (Ch. 11, “Discursive text versus review of literature,” para 3). The literature review should also support one’s rationale for choosing a specific research genre/approach through construction of a “logic-of-justification.”

When too little time is spent with the literature, students encounter the pitfall of merely justifying qualitative inquiry against dominant positivist and postpositivist traditions. However, a well-written logic-of-justification does more than that. It justifies the qualitative inquiry against ongoing debates and discourses within its own traditions.

Like every other aspect of qualitative research, this process is disorienting and stress-inducing. Last fall, as I delved into readings on Cultural-Historical Activity Theory, I stumbled into “pockets of discourse where scholars are engrossed in discussions that one finds meaningful" (Ch. 11, “Preparing to construct a logic-of-justification,” para 3). I was in the middle of writing my frameworks when I discovered divergent opinions about CHAT between two leading theorists.

I had aligned myself with one theorist only to discover that another was making an equally compelling argument that seemed dismissive of the first guy. Did this mean I had to choose sides? I quickly sent off an email to one of my committee members whose methodological opinions I had come to rely on. She responded, “The issues you are dealing with do not have a right or wrong answer. It is an area that need cultivating, and you can join the conversation to do that.” Upon reflection, her reply now seems very much in alignment with Piantanida and Garman’s point of view (and Kilbourn’s).

And I am still not done constructing my logic-of-justification. In my readings on CHAT, I realized that, while drawn to design-based research (often used in CHAT studies), the opportunity to propose a design experiment had long since passed. It would be impossible for me to both follow this approach and meet the expectations of my committee chair, who also happened to be the lead instructor in the context under investigation (complicated!).

In my continued review of activity-theoretical studies, I learned that case study is another time-honored approach within the CHAT tradition. I am now poised to delve into that literature, but I am a little nervous. Although I have no reservations about CHAT as a coherent and compatible match to my own assumptions and research "proclivities," I have no idea how or if I can successfully locate myself within the case study tradition.

Will I find a reasonably strong and coherent link connecting the case study genre to my own "proclivities for making meaning"?  Will all my early data collection efforts, done without tether to a specific methodology, be in vain? Isn’t it too late for me to ask these questions?

I am hopeful that, as I explore the case study literature more deeply in the coming weeks, my process in comparing and interpreting them (Yin, Stake) will help me sort out some answers to these questions. I am also wondering if my documentation of this process (through writing) could serve as the bulk of my first project report for EP 659. 

References

Hutchison, A., & Reinking, D. (2011). Teachers’ perceptions of integrating information and communication technologies into literacy instruction: A national survey in the United States. Reading Research Quarterly, 46(4), 312–333.

Kilbourn, B. (2006). The qualitative doctoral dissertation proposal. The Teachers College Record, 108(4), 529–576.

Piantanida, M., & Garman, N. B. (2009). The qualitative dissertation: A guide for students and faculty (Second Edition, Kindle edition.). Thousand Oaks, CA: Corwin.

On writing: train of thought, experiential text, problem statements, and lit reviews