Self-reflecting on approaches to self-reflection.

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As an experienced social worker and lecturer in social work education, I am very comfortable with the requirement of both self-reflection (asking thoughtful questions about self) and reflexivity (asking thoughtful questions about self and others) (Finlay in Kalu 2019:97). Indeed, to some degree the process of considering my practice and how it impacts others feels like a skill that is built-in to who I am – I am a deep thinker who considers what something might mean for me or someone else.  

Problem: the risk of a tick-box approach to self-reflection using known theories 

Due to the familiarity of self-reflection, I was blasé about what it would mean for myself as a researcher. The requirement didn’t faze me; it all seemed routine because I have practised and taught it many times! Donald Schön talks about reflection ‘in-action’ and ‘on-action’, and reflection ‘for-action’ has been added more recently. I was happy to engage in this reflective process – before, during and after my research. 

Kolb’s model provides a helpful reflective cycle which moves from concrete experience, reflective observation and abstract conceptualisation to active experimentation (Kolb 1984). Yet, often, students inaccurately apply this model to their practice; they aren’t specific enough with the experience and then spill off in different directions, possibly because they have more to say than the confinements of this logical model. Neither practice nor research is neatly cyclical, and a more honest illustration of self-reflection might be a page of colourful scribble or a tangled ball of wool.  

My preference is to use Gibbs’ reflective model (1998). Although still cyclical, it points explicitly to considering personal feelings as a discreet element, and it is accessible and straightforward: description, feelings, evaluation, analysis, conclusion, and action plan. However, these approaches didn’t inspire me. Therefore, in my methodology section, I felt I was simply responding to a requirement to cover these topic areas rather than investing in the process. That is until I found Peshkin… 

Solution: an alternative approach to self-reflection 

Peshkin’s article is worth a read (Peshkin 1988). He explains how he, as a researcher, could personally impact the research process and outcomes in different ways and moments. He documents his ‘subjectivity audit’ and coins the term ‘Subjective-I’ to describe how different elements of his ‘self’ impacted his research (Simons 2009: 81).  

I allowed my self-reflection to be guided by Peshkin: to look for the ‘warm and cool spots, the emergence of positive and negative feelings’ (Peshkin 1988: 18) and to honestly connect with my personal qualities which may have the capacity to ‘filter, skew, shape, block, transform, construe and misconstrue what transpires from the outset of a research project to its culmination in a written statement’ (Peshkin 1988: 17). This approach seemed simple and honest: 

  • Embrace the gut reaction and follow the physical sensations to locate positive and negative feelings; 
  • Consider what these feelings might mean for me as the researcher; 
  • Consider what these subjective elements might mean for my research process, participants, and outcomes.  

Solution: examples of Subjective-I’s in practice 

Two articles assisted my understanding of Peshkin’s approach to reflexivity, particularly as a practitioner-researcher. As a physiotherapist researcher, Kalu shares his ‘multicultural-I’, ‘holistic-I’ and ‘professional-advocates-I’ (Kalu 201). His article is helpful because he considers his research interest, theoretical approach and research question (Kalu 2019: 99). Secondly, Bradbury-Jones et al. (2009) present a collaborative study between lecturer and nursing students, providing excerpts from student reflective diaries which include illustrations explaining the ‘angry-I’, ‘impatient-I’, ‘invisible-I’ and ‘passionate-I’.  

As a practitioner-researcher planning to offer a series of workshops to social work students to introduce them to a self-help tool called Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT), this new find appeared as a good fit for my developing research. It allowed me to own my feelings, and I soon had to start my own ‘subjectivity audit’: ‘overwhelmed-I’, ‘responsible-I’, ‘vulnerable-I’, ‘creative-I’, ‘collaborative-I’. Rather than keep a reflective diary, I decided to chronicle my research journey using this audit tool, which I could add to as my research evolved. 

“Question: How important is it to align your method of self-reflection with your research topic area and your attributes as a researcher? I am pleased to have come across a process that is a good fit for my research topic and design, but I wouldn’t have consciously thought to look for a sense of alignment.”

Blog written by: 

Jo Strang is a Staff Tutor in Social Work at the OU and a second year EdD student. Jo is qualified as a social worker, reflexologist and Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) practitioner and has worked in Higher Education as a lecturer since 2010. Her research combines her professional interests and aims to explore social work students’ experiences of learning about EFT, a self-help tool often more easily referred to as ‘acupuncture without needles’. This simple tapping technique can reduce the fight-flight response to situations we experience as challenging and assist in processing a variety of emotions.

Journey or quest, a simple option or ongoing challenge? 

I was warned in the initial weeks of my doctoral programme, during induction, that my research title would inevitably change over time. Especially in the first few months. This was reassuring as moving from a research proposal into the serious business of being a postgraduate research (PGR) student is a whole new territory. My original title, and therefore my focus changed massively once I began the literature review process. It followed new directions, took on wider views before returning close to my original plan. I now had fewer travel bags, but each was much heavier. 

The role of PGR students is to create their own ‘new certainties’ and make a sound contribution to an existing body of knowledge. But choices need to be made. To seek out new pathways through a familiar landscape, striking out in a new direction? But familiar landscapes may turn out to be well-travelled lanes with few opportunities for new explorations apart from rutted and stony tracks. Or to venture into unknown, unmapped territory where progress may be exacting, even overwhelming.  

Choice, problems and implications: 

  • Could the route we take affect how we benefit ourselves as researchers? 
  • Could choosing between familiar or unexplored territory shift the benefit focus from our ‘research’ to ‘ourselves as researchers’? 
  • Developing ourselves as researchers enhances our research abilities. 
  • Developing our research skills improves our standing as researchers. 
  • Is choice dependent on our career path or our research specialism? On our own image of ourselves as researchers? Or our research stakeholders? 

Setting out and views from established researchers  

Postgraduate research is about action rather than attitude. Its nature is to review current belief or knowledge and to uncover the gaps that will determine our position for new study. But is this realistic? Brunet argues that the journey “has important consequences on a student’s current and future professional life”, (Brunet, 2022, p. 1032), and active journeying towards a professional goal is sufficient. For Leshem the journey is a “transition phase of developing new roles” (Cast, 2003, cited in Lesham, 2020, p. 170), and underscores a fundamental characteristic as “identity construction, rites of passage, tensions and resolutions” (Wisker et al., 2010, quoted in Lesham, 2020, p. 170). It is much more about attitude, building a research identity as the ‘student’ transitions into ‘research student’ and emerges as ‘researcher’. 

PGR students have charge of their research because ultimately the prize at journey’s end is theirs. To be accepted into the PhD programme there is an expectation that your title and research questions are decided prior to your ‘upgrade’ assessment. You’ve scoured the literature, submitted your report, and perhaps presented your research to fellow academics before the upgrade viva.  My understanding is of a finality, a shutting of the gate to further exploration just as your doctoral journey is confirmed. An expectation to keep to a focus that is largely uninformed at this stage, is a big ask. 

Owens, et al. (2019) found that many doctoral students remain unclear about the outcomes from these deciding way-markers and recommend “providing opportunities for the development of a number of personal qualities as well as the professional profile of the students” (Owens, et al., 2019, p. 109). 

Where next? 

Continuing literature reviews is a doctoral research requirement and over the following two to six years there may be new avenues of exploration and new knowledge in our field. We may have new questions, a new focus.   

Perhaps your doctoral journey is towards becoming a professional academic, treating the process as a project in your career development (Brunet, 2022). You’ve maintained your focus, followed the guidebooks, and avoiding unmapped paths. You arrive satisfied, having achieved your quest. You might explore or relax by the pool? Is this enough? 

Perhaps your drive for research and to develop yourself personally and professionally is powered by a passion for learning (Mantai, 2019). Taking detours made your journey more challenging yet rewarding. Reaching your destination only leaves much more to explore. Will you be satisfied? 

Quest or journey? Answers on a postcard. 

As novice researchers is there intrinsic value in a quest that benefits a professional goal? Can a doctoral journey conceived from a desire for new knowledge, sharing insights, and challenging established perceptions succeed? 

Should the choice be polarised when, ultimately, the doctoral research goal is to avoid stepping into others’ footprints, to face the challenge of discovery head-on, and to offer inspiration to those who follow?  

(Words, 745) 

References 

Brunet, M. (2022) ‘Conducting a PhD as a project: sharing insights from my doctoral journey’, International journal of managing projects in business, 15(7), pp. 1032–1047. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1108/IJMPB-08-2021-0212. 

Leshem, S. (2020) ‘Identity formations of doctoral students on the route to achieving their doctorate’, Issues in educational research, 30(1), p. 169-182. Available at: https://www.iier.org.au/iier30/leshem.pdf  

Mantai, L. (2019) ‘“Feeling more academic now”: Doctoral stories of becoming an academic’, The Australian Educational Researcher (2019) 46:137–153. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1007/s13384-018-0283-x  

Owens, A. et al. (2020) ‘Student reflections on doctoral learning: challenges and breakthroughs’, Studies in graduate and postdoctoral education, 11(1), pp. 107–122. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1108/SGPE-04-2019-0048  

Marilyn Long

I am a first year, full-time PGR student in the IET school. I am an autistic researcher, and my focus is to investigate inclusive provision and support for autistic students in higher education. I first studied with the OU in 1980 and since then gained my B.Ed degree and worked as a Primary school teacher, Early years co-ordinator, and staff development manager. After a gap of almost 20 years I enrolled for PG study with the OU in online and distance education before applying for a place as a PGR student.