What’s in a name? The influence of pseudonyms on research activities

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As researchers, we are ethically commanded to assure anonymity for participants engaging in research activities (BERA, 2018). Anonymisation often results in selection of participant pseudonyms by researchers to assist in preventing identification. An alias, or code name is assumed, often chosen by the research author without consultation with participants. The origin of the meaning alias resides in Latin as ‘at another time, elsewhere’ (Wordsense, 2021) which suggests an alternative identity is assumed, particularly because it should be distinct from participants’ real names. This can be particularly challenging within the field of social science when positive, professional relationships with participants brings potential for gathering valuable, rich data, to say nothing of perpetuating power imbalances between researcher and participant. Pseudonyms can therefore be a barrier to establishing participant relationships. It seems the idea of pseudonyms warrants careful consideration, though, because a name can be more important than first conceived.

Participants’ heritage and culture are often embodied in their name. Names can be inter-generationally adopted to demonstrate family attachments and respect for predecessors. Participants may not want to lose this sense of belonging with their family, particularly when researching sensitive subjects. Emotional connections with family can support and affirm the value of participants’ contributions to the research study which could help retention.  Conversely, pseudonyms which are representative of family members who have brought disrepute on the family could risk alienating participants from the study. The negative association with these names would not necessarily be known to the researcher. Worse still are pseudonyms which are codes, such as numbers or letters. This depersonalises participants and removes their identity as well as extracting their name from fieldwork. Whilst this is arguably more influential in qualitative studies than quantitative research, the scientific study of human society and social relationships is quite possibly hampered when participant identities are altered.

Shakespeare (1597) disregarded the significance of names in Romeo and Juliet, arguing the person inside is more important than their name. But our social constructionism attaches importance to names which demonstrate who we are inside. Names are often aligned to religion, class, age, socio-economic circumstances, geographical locations and so on, and as a result influence our positionality and how we view the world. Within research, participants’ names might impact upon the research experience. In a recent study I tried to avoid these complexities by asking participants to select their own pseudonyms. Rather than avert these issues, it presented different problems. Several participants chose to use their initials, which had potential to identify them in a small, narrative study. In addressing this, one participant asked to be called by the first initial of their surname, preceded by ‘Mr’. As the only male in the study this insufficiently managed the risk of identification. The participant subsequently suggested the pseudonym Churchill, explaining this was patriotic. This names conjures various understandings, although perhaps not a general sense of awareness to social injustice. Seeking clarification, I enquired ‘Asking for a friend……. the politician or the dog?’. And the response?

‘Both’.

by Sarah Mander

Sarah Mander is a Staff Tutor in ECYS, and Associate Lecturer for E102. Sarah is currently studying for a Doctorate in Education, researching the characteristics of child-centred practice within Early Help workforces. Her research interests emanate from a career in early intervention and preventative work in children’s services. Sarah also authors student wellbeing bulletins and leads the ECYS Student Voice and Wellbeing group.

 

Ethical Challenges of Research in Secondary Schools: All is well that ends well

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The topic of my thesis developed from thirty years of teaching English as a Foreign Language (EFL) in secondary schools in the south of Italy. Over the years, I have seen and experimented with many teaching approaches, but one that I found to be particularly intriguing was what I have named Online Community Projects (OCPs).

My experience of working with minors meant that ethical thinking came effortlessly. For example, teachers cannot do anything outside their everyday teaching without obtaining signed permission from parents or informing the headteacher and colleagues in writing. In addition, the experience helped me to foresee complications, such as taking students out of other teachers’ lessons or missing their buses home if I asked them to stay after school. In addition, as an insider, I knew that if I offered rewards, my intentions might be misinterpreted, so care was needed for every decision.

The biggest problem was finding the right time to do interviews, and I waited for an elusive moment that only came once during the whole initial study. I learnt from my mistakes and interviewed during my lessons with the classes in question for the primary research. I put the students into groups to work on their OCP activities, and the group that finished first was the one I would interview. Another helpful solution was to use open-question questionnaires with tick-boxes that gave the participants information about the research and the opportunity to refuse or give consent for their answers to be used for publication purposes. However, analysing these decisions was complicated and messy. Therefore I drew up a table following the BERA and Stutchbury and Fox (2009).

One of the most critical issues arising from my initial study was that my data did not teach me anything that I didn’t already know, and I wanted to learn something new. After substantial reading of literature such as Hammersley (2012), Scotland (2012) and Cresswell (2003), I realised that my paradigm was not aligned with my ontological and epistemological viewpoints. Once I had understood this, everything fell into place, and I realised that I had to change my methodology. I decided to use Action Research and Burns’ (1999) iterative framework. This process led me to rethink my research framework and data analysis. The discovery of Stake’s (2006) Multiple Case Study Analysis was a significant breakthrough for me. It led me to introduce three contrasting voices and define five multiple cases connected through the use of OCPs but with different perspectives.

These changes revolutionised my research and understanding of myself and my worldviews. It also led me to make an important discovery that I had no idea about beforehand, transforming my teaching practice and research. All is well that ends well, as they say. Has anyone else been disappointed with the results of their initial study? Please let us know about your experiences and how you overcame them.

Dr. Lesley June Fearn @lesleyfearn

I achieved my EdD in 2021 regarding learning and teaching English as a Foreign Language (EFL) using online community projects in secondary schools. This interest stems from more than thirty years of experience teaching English (as a Foreign Language) and English literature in state schools in the south of Italy. During this time, I have continually experimented with new approaches and techniques, especially with technology, to motivate students in their schooling. Other areas of interest include Fine Art and English literature that I studied as a BA and MA. As far as research is concerned, I am particularly interested in Action Research and sociocultural paradigms.

Musings on moral distress as a healthcare PGR in a time of crisis

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Hypothetically, if you were to cut me open, you’d find ‘MIDWIFE’ written through me like a messy and macabre stick of rock.

Like so many, my professional and personal identity are so intrinsically linked with shared values; being a midwife is not just what I am, but who I am.  My philosophy has always been and will ultimately remain grounded in evidence-based practice to provide safe, effective care, as well as valuing individual’s needs, wants and experiences, remaining passionate about equitable and safe clinical care with a deep sense justice both within and outside of the system. This is, after all what has led me down my professional and academic pathway.

As of March 2021, 39,070 midwives appeared on the NMC register (NMC, 2021), and a proportion of registrants work outside of providing direct clinical care – myself included – in a range of roles which include research, academia, education, policy, leadership – the list goes on. Each one of those roles provides for a complex and integrated network of experts who in their own way, influence excellent care.

Leaving clinical work for midwifery education was, amongst other reasons, driven by the need to influence excellence in practice and facilitate robust, evidence-based education for students and thereby maybe, just maybe, they might feel empowered to provide excellent, compassionate clinical care and become passionate advocates.

I sensed acutely that transition from clinician to educator, encountering a profound sense of loss of clinical care, which I recognised as the movement from expert to novice (Foster, 2015), a phenomenon well documented in a variety of professions. I soon made that transition, however when COVID-19 reached our shores in early 2020, a country wide call was made to registrants for them to return to the front lines (Nursing Times, 2020) to provide maternity care, as well as redeployment across other areas of the healthcare system, many of my colleagues being dual registered.

I didn’t return to practice (despite many nights of anguish trying to rationalise how I could continue my educational role, manage family life, AND support my front-line colleagues). I ultimately knew that my expertise was best placed supporting students and providing an education, after all, these were to be the future workforce that would, despite living through one of the most challenging times in healthcare, go on to be leaders in their clinical field.

Having this experience, I anticipated the same seismic shift when I moved into full time doctoral research and prepared accordingly for that feeling of loss. Fast forward to now, and I only just feel comfortable referring to myself as a PGR rather than hiding behind my other professional identity as a midwifery clinician and educator. I know this is common amongst peers, it’s something I’ve reflected on at length with other PGRS who work currently or previously within healthcare.

But recently those feelings have returned with vigour.

Maternity care in the UK is going through significant scrutiny following independent reviews of maternity services at NHS trusts (DHSC, 2021), addressing profound inequality and poor outcomes in black and minority ethic women (MBRRACE-UK, 2020;  FiveXMore, 2021) and implementation of Better Births (2016) through the maternity transformation programme. This is all against a background of an ongoing pandemic and serious workforce staffing and retention concerns across midwifery (RCM,2021) and nursing (Guardian, 2021). It has been hard therefore to reconcile feelings of being needed back ‘at the coal face’ with the guilt of continuing my research. I now recognise this dissonance as moral distress, which whilst most aligned with being powerless within a healthcare system, can be experienced in other areas.

I have, through peer reflection, been comforted by the fact that, firstly, I am not alone, as many PGRs with a healthcare background are feeling the same. Secondly, that having identified a gap in knowledge, I can focus on improvement from a different perspective, and that whilst it is tempting to temporarily abandon postgraduate research (as a wise person called ‘responding to the call to action’) and return to clinical work in the time of crisis, ultimately making a difference with research is a valid goal contributing to the wider body of knowledge, and of as much value as walking the wards. Ultimately this will shape a better, more reflexive researcher, academic and clinician.

How are others feeling? Is this a phenomena particular to healthcare PGRs?

by Anna Madeley  @AnnaTheMidwife

Anna is a full time doctoral researcher in her second year at the Open University and a registered midwife. Prior to starting at the OU, Anna worked in a variety of maternity settings including practice development, her last clinical post as a senior midwife establishing and running a home birth team before moving into midwifery education as a Senior Lecturer. Anna remains connected with midwifery education with specialist teaching and interests in all aspects of contemporary midwifery practice, physiologically informed care, research, individualised and complex care planning and supporting home birth. Anna’s previous MSc research explored the experiences of midwives supporting women with complex needs (physical, medical, obstetric and psychological) who choose to birth at home.  Her doctoral work explores the experiences of women who make non-normative choices in pregnancy.

Finding Your Space

Finding Your Space 

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‘There is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.’ 

― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own 

Some people can write anywhere, in coffee shops, in hotel reception rooms, in parks on a sunny day, or wherever they find themselves in their free time. However, this kind of freedom is not universal, and many people find themselves restrained by their emotional and occupational responsibilities and a lack of physical space.  

 

I have been a better writer since I have had an area to write and keep my writing tools, such as my books, notepads, computer (with two screens), printer, large desk, and comfy chair. These are all things that I find are necessary for me to get anything worth reading written. However, I have only had this space since one of my children moved out. Before then, I would set up my computer wherever I could, in the kitchen, in the garden, on the sofa. The problem was that people would be in and out, the television would come on, the door would ring, and my thoughts and writing would be continually interrupted. Being a writing nomad led me to waste precious time. I was constantly losing things, and the disturbances would make me lose my thread and procrastinate. I would usually have to go back to the beginning and start again. Another, probably more serious, issue of not having a proper place to write was that the inadequate seating gave me back problems. Nowadays, I have an ergonomic writing chair, but alas, the damage is done, and so I urge you younger academics not to take your health for granted.  

Unfortunately, it is not easy to find a solution to this issue. Years ago, I cleared out a tiny store-room/cupboard and used that, but the lack of windows gave me a headache. I know other people who have done the same thing. Rowena Murray suggests that it might be more productive learning to write at the doctor’s, dentist’s, on a coffee or lunch break and so on. Tara Brabazon agrees that we do not need expensive equipment, but we do need our own space. Virginia Woolf highlighted this issue in 1935 with her iconic essay A Room of One’s Own, which pointed out the difficulties many women had both metaphorically and physically relating to the lack of independence and physical space. Society has changed since then, but privacy is still an issue for many people.  

My question is, how and where do other people write? How many people can genuinely compose their thoughts and create wherever they find themselves? It would be great if other people could share their ideas and experience on this matter.  

Dr Lesley Fearn @lesleyfearn

I recently achieved my EdD regarding learning and teaching English as a Foreign Language (EFL) using online community projects in secondary schools. This interest stems from more than thirty years of experience teaching English (as a Foreign Language) and English literature in state schools in the south of Italy. During this time, I have continually experimented with new approaches and techniques, especially with technology, to motivate students in their schooling. Other areas of interest include Fine Art and English literature that I studied as a BA and MA. As far as research is concerned, I am particularly interested in Action Research and sociocultural paradigms.