Field realities — Reflections on when fieldwork breaks your heart
I (Tessie) recently discussed with Nasubo my inclination to focus my master’s thesis on uplifting research, stories highlighting digital agency, and successes.
This conversation led us into a deep discussion and retrospection on the effects research can have on the researchers themselves. While much of the existing fieldwork guidance emphasizes ethical dilemmas and maintaining clear boundaries between researchers and participants, the reality is that what we gather from conversations, especially in qualitative research, can linger with us long after the discussions conclude.
Over the past four years, our research has been centered on the digital economy and youth employment, including issues of unemployment and underemployment. We examined the opportunities, challenges, and complexities presented by digital platforms. An ongoing challenge in this exploration of digital cultures is countering the prevailing default trend toward ‘techlash’, characterized by a strong negative sentiment towards modern technology and the conduct of major technology companies. Most existing research on the digital economy and labor has predominantly focused on the digital divide, precarity, and exploitation. Despite the factual nature of this focus, we feel there are a few narratives portraying agency and successful community organizing and technology adoption. We have been contemplating injecting a sense of joy and local creativity into our studies, aiming to shed light on such insights. Yet, securing funding for these aspects remains a challenge despite our efforts to pitch such opportunities.
Maybe we seek this change in focus to just take a break from the sad negative sides of tech or the burden of studying employment issues. Or were just open to getting insights from a more positive note? In research, the impact of fieldwork is seldom discussed. Its likely emotional toll, the steep learning curve of social engagement in challenging conversations, and the responsibility of accurately representing peoples’ lived realities. Similar to researchers and journalists studying vulnerable situations, we have found ourselves as vulnerable observers in circumstances where unemployment and limiting conditions breed tension and hopelessness among the youth. Especially in the current economic times. While these situations might not parallel other trauma-based studies like war or conflict that lead to loss of lives, they evoke tensions of lost hope, shattered dreams, and frustration toward development and life in general.
Ethnographic researchers have cautioned against treating research as ‘therapy’, yet at times, we find a researcher as the only one someone has opened up to and reflected with in a long time. We have heard this too, when a participant says after an interview, ‘This felt like therapy’. Sometimes a joyful expression other times a dejected exclaim. Active listening is one thing good researchers have which takes me to this quote by documentary filmmaker Valarie Kaur on listening:
Deep listening is an act of surrender. We risk being changed by what we hear. When I really want to hear another person’s story, I try to leave my preconceptions at the door and draw close to their telling. I’m always partially listening to the thoughts in my own head when others are speaking, so I consciously quiet my thoughts in my own head and begin to listen with my senses.
Empathy is cognitive and emotional — to inhabit another person’s view of the world is to feel the world with them. But I also know that it’s okay if I don’t feel very much for them at all. I just need to feel safe enough to stay curious.
The most critical part of listening is asking what is at stake for the other person. I try to understand what matters to them, not what I think matters. Sometimes I start to lose myself in their story. As soon as I notice feeling unmoored, I try to pull myself back into my body, like returning home.
As Hannah Arendt says, ‘One trains one’s imagination to go visiting.’ When the story is done, we must return to our skin, our own worldview, and notice how we have been changed by our visit.”
Source: See No Stranger
For researchers, establishing boundaries in such cases is crucial to avoid crossing certain points and losing control of the conversation. As so is extending empathy to participants. However, even if successful at the moment, the effects might linger, especially when resources aren’t available to directly address the challenges shared. Connections and friendships might form from these conversations, blurring the lines of professionalism.
In our case, our research on employment and sustainable livelihoods has brought us varying conversations. From inspiring to heart-wrenching, with individuals expressing helplessness due to limited economic opportunities during what they perceive as their most productive years. Worries about the future overshadow any consideration of career aspirations or retirement plans if there’s ever one. There was this one time when we considered focusing on a study of work traumas, but we felt unprepared to engage with such a deeply affecting topic (though we believe these are discussions that ought to be heard and insights surfaced). The challenges experienced in workplaces and job seeking can be disorienting and emotionally taxing, an experience both Nas and I have encountered. But we have also had instances of joy and empowerment enabled by digital platforms.
Recognizing this effect of economic challenges for communities and individuals, we urge program partners and research collaborators to prioritize the allocation of resources toward support systems, for participants, community organizers, and researchers too. Researchers to always plan for contingency plans for such occurrences and take some time for self-care if need be. These resources could comprise mental health provisions or targeted interventions aimed at addressing prevalent economic hardships even as we seek to understand them better.
