Introduction

This chapter will discuss analysis of multimodal creative and qualitative research that has been undertaken by the International Women in Supramolecular Chemistry Network (WISC, 2020). WISC's overarching aim is to create a community to support the retention and progression of women and other marginalised genders within the field of supramolecular chemistry. WISC use an ethos that ‘calls in’ the community and embeds equality, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) expertise (Caltagirone et al, 2021a, 2021b). We intentionally use reflective methods as part of an Embodied Inquiry (Leigh and Brown, 2021) to capture and share their ‘invisible, embodied, emotional experiences’ (Leigh et al, 2023, p 1) as a way to raise awareness and effect change (Leigh et al, 2022a).

Context

Science is not known for its diversity and inclusion, whether that is regarding gender (Rosser, 2012), race (Prasad, 2021; RSC, 2022), sexuality (Smith, 2019), or disability (CRAC, 2020). Women are subject to resistance in academia generally (Shelton et al, 2018; Murray and Mifsud, 2019), and this is intensified within the science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM) disciplines (Rosser, 2012). Despite investment in programmes designed to address the gender imbalance, women remain a minority, particularly in more senior roles (Rosser, 2017). This imbalance is more pronounced in some STEM disciplines than others. Women are one of several marginalised groups in the chemical sciences (RSC, 2018, 2022), with the period post- PhD being when they are most likely to leave (RSC, 2019a). Although there is not one easy explanation for this, the combination of the so- called chilly gender climate and challenges in planning families and pregnancy in a lab are certainly contributing factors (Stockard et al, 2018; Leigh et al, 2022b; Slater et al, 2022). In 2019, the Royal Society of Chemistry (RSC) stated that the rate of attrition is such an issue that the current rate of change would never result in gender parity despite half of undergraduate chemistry students identifying as women (RSC, 2019a). The RSC recognised that women are subject to multiple small barriers (or microaggressions) (Ahmed, 2017), resulting in them publishing less, in lower impact journals, and in their publications receiving fewer citations (RSC, 2019b).

This case study draws from work project-managing the research component and later following up researcher experiences of the multidisciplinary research study Imagining Autism. This brought drama practitioners and researchers together with an evaluation team from psychology. It exemplifies the borders of qualitative research where it meets with art, education, and therapy. While I was positioned within the evaluation team, I was very aware of similarities between the improvisational drama and my doctoral work with children. This case study also highlights the ways in which researchers reflect and position themselves in their research.

Context

Imagining Autism was a collaboration between a team of drama academics and practitioners and two teams of psychologists. The drama researchers had a long history of using improvised drama and puppetry with autistic children and children with other special educational needs. They had seen how their approach had a beneficial effect, increasing capacity for and willingness to engage in social interactions and imaginative play. They had heard from families and teachers about how their work ‘ameliorated’ some of the challenges the children faced day-to-day in allistic society. The two leads were both parents of autistic children and had personal reasons for their interest. However, they were unable to ‘prove’ in the scientific objective sense that what they did had an impact, or establish why. As drama academics they were used to using Practice-as-Research (Barrett and Bolt 2010) which is, rightly or wrongly, often not as highly regarded as other research approaches or methods within academia (Mårtensson et al 2016). They decided to collaborate with psychology researchers to evaluate the impact of a programme of improvised drama to ‘show’ that what they did was of benefit and had value. The study was designed to be systematic and rigorous, involving standardised tests of IQ, numeracy and literacy, momentary time sampled observations of the children in class and at play, and regular ADOS (autistic diagnostic observation schedule) tests. The study involved 27 children aged 7–12 years from three schools in the UK over 18 months to allow for improvements in testing due to developmental changes.

This case study of my work with the international WISC network exemplifies the borders of qualitative research with science and therapy. Integrating and using qualitative research methods – explicitly embodied, creative, and reflective research methods – with scientists and in a scientific context allowed us all the opportunity to reflect on the ways in which research approaches and dissemination are defined by disciplinary boundaries. My work with international Principal Investigators and research groups felt at times like either teaching or group therapy, and definitely required my full set of therapeutic skills and holding, particularly as the bulk of the work was undertaken online throughout the COVID-19 pandemic.

Context

In the very first chapter of this book, I shared the story of how I came to qualitative research after initially studying chemistry at both undergraduate and postgraduate levels. That I ended up leaving science is unfortunately all too common. Women are marginalised in chemistry (Royal Society of Chemistry 2018), with the largest attrition occurring post-PhD (Royal Society of Chemistry 2019a). Although I left during a PhD and not after completion, I contribute to the statistics around the lack of retention for women and other marginalised groups. Those that choose to stay continue to have challenges. The Royal Society of Chemistry (RSC) recognised that women in the chemical sciences face barriers in publishing (Royal Society of Chemistry 2019b), which can be thought of as akin to microaggressions as defined by Sara Ahmed (2017). Even before the COVID-19 pandemic impacted women academics to a greater extent than men due to uneven loads of caring responsibilities and work distribution (Gabster et al 2020), the RSC stated that the rate of change meant gender parity would never be reached (Royal Society of Chemistry 2019a). The chemical sciences are not unique in this. The scientific community is not known for its diversity with respect to gender (Greider et al 2019), race (Makgoba 2020), sexuality (Smith 2020), or disability (CRAC 2020). Of course, the barriers that face an individual with a protected characteristic are intersectional (Crenshaw 1989) and compound.

The international WISC network was initially created to support a small group, before being scaled to build an intersectional sense of community supporting the retention and progression of women in the field.

According to the internet (so it must be true): ‘the scientific method is the process of objectively establishing facts through testing and experimentation. The basic process involves making an observation, forming a hypothesis, making a prediction, conducting an experiment and finally analyzing the results’ (Science Buddies n.d.). The scientific method is familiar to most of us, as it is the way children are taught to ‘do’ science throughout a school education. What is notable in the scientific method and the way that it is most commonly taught in schools is the absence of reflection, self-awareness, or the importance and impact of the relationship between the scientist and the world around them. Science is acknowledged as being ‘hard’, possibly because it is abstract (Millar 1991). As a result, science is seen as something worthy, and success in science something to celebrate (Frank 2012). This may be one reason why some social scientists aspire to be taken seriously as ‘scientists’ and hold fast to a scientific ideal (Flyvbjerg 2006).

One of the key tenets of the scientific method is scientific objectivity:

Julian and Jan Sprenger continued:

It is vitally important that a qualitative researcher is self-aware, reflective, and reflexive; particularly one using creative and embodied methods (Leigh and Brown 2021a). Reflection and reflexivity can be used interchangeably, and though they are linked, they are not the same (Leigh and Bailey 2013). Being reflective is the process of looking and examining what is there, how we reacted, or what has happened – the literal act of looking into a mirror – ideally performed without judgement, enhancement, or filters. Reflection is a necessary element of being reflexive, and being consciously self-aware enhances the ability to be reflective. Being reflexive can be understood as the process of reflecting on those reflections, taking into account the context, positionality, and using that insight to act rather than react, and choose what happens next.

I am not a lone voice calling for reflection and reflexivity in researchers. Ian Stronach and colleagues described how reflexivity, and different models of reflexivity are intrinsic to creative methodology in educational, scientific, and artistic research (Stronach et al 2007). Mike Poltorak saw embodied reflexivity as crucial in visual anthropology research and education (Poltorak 2019). Susan Hall stated it is essential in action research (Hall 1996a). Sarah Pink (2007, 2009) and Venus Evans-Winters (2019) saw it as essential to ethnographic research, and Aimee Grant (2018) for documentary analysis. Virginia Braun and Victoria Clarke developed a widely adopted approach to qualitative analysis ‘Reflexive Thematic Analysis’ which demands reflexivity to ensure quality1 (Braun et al 2012, 2019; Braun and Clarke 2013, 2016, 2019, 2021a, 2021b; Clarke and Braun 2019). Amanda Moffat and colleagues believed that reflexivity is key for a researcher’s self-care (Moffat et al 2016). It might seem obvious to say that reflexivity is essential throughout a qualitative research process from design, to data generation, and analysis (Leigh and Brown 2021a). However, Ben Newton and colleagues found that far too often reflexivity is still lacking in qualitative research (Newton et al 2011). The ways in which researchers are supposed to develop reflexivity are ‘hardly discussed’ (Pink 2009: 50). This may be because reflection and reflexivity are seen as hard to teach (Leigh and Bailey 2013), and researchers are lacking the skills they need to reflect effectively.

The vast majority of qualitative research involves others; as participants, cocreators, or audience. Leaving aside audiences for now, when a qualitative researcher is working with participants or co-creators and wants to elicit data or engage, they have to form a relationship with them. The same is true for educators when they educate others, and for artists who work with or for community groups. However, it is therapists who receive training on how to form, build, and contain relationships with a specific intent. This lesson draws on psychotherapy to understand the constituents of a therapeutic encounter or relationship, so researchers, educators, and artists might better understand the encounters they have and the relationships they form with their participants, students, or co-creators.

The purpose of psychotherapy

Psychotherapeutic approaches are intended to allow others (clients) to share and explore their stories with trained therapists so that they can process their experiences and heal. As such, psychotherapists undergo specific training to support their work and development as a therapist. While these trainings vary in length and content depending on the specific nature of the psychotherapeutic approach, they would all cover similar general principles in order to adhere to the guidelines and codes set by the professional bodies in their country (examples of these are the Standards of Conduct, Performance and Ethics set out by the UK Health and Care Professions Council; Codes of Ethics and Conduct from the British Psychological Society; Ethical Principles of Psychologists and Code of Conduct from the American Psychological Association; the Association of Family Therapy Code of Ethics and Practice; and similar codes set by various bodies including the UK Council for Psychotherapy and the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy). These codes all include practical ways of engaging and building a relationship with a client, establishing trust, boundaries, and creating an environment in which the client is happy to share personal and often emotional stories and the therapist is working to strict professional ethics to safeguard their own safety and that of their client. The purpose of therapeutic training is to build and facilitate the natural skills of the therapist (Budd et al 2020).

I am an interdisciplinary researcher. My passion is utilising embodied and creative qualitative research to capture transient evocative moments and authentic stories of people’s lives (Leigh and Brown 2021a). I am particularly interested in exploring and sharing the subjective experiences of those who are marginalised, and highlighting these testimonials in order to effect change. The life I lived beyond academia as a scientist, therapist, teacher, and artist taught me lessons about intention and impact imperative for all qualitative researchers; particularly those using creative and embodied methods. It showed me how art, education, therapy, and qualitative research share borders and lie adjacent to science. A naive or unwary researcher, artist, or educator can easily get lost, or even harm themselves and their participants if they find themselves in unfamiliar therapeutic territory. Researchers, artists, therapists, and educators are trained to navigate in different lands.

I am a researcher. However, before I became a researcher I was a scientist, and I accepted that there was an objective and absolute truth, and purity in the scientific method. Before I became a researcher, I was a therapist. I worked therapeutically with a humanistic and person-centred ethos using movement, words, and creative outputs such as drawing or mark-making in the service of others to help them process difficult experiences. My work facilitated others to learn from and take what they needed from their own lives and their relationships with the world and others around them, and to let go of what they no longer needed. Before I became a researcher, I was a teacher. I trained to teach children aged 11–19 in science, and worked with children aged four and older with and without special educational needs across the curriculum in the UK. Before I became a researcher, I was an artist, using movement and fibre to capture ephemeral moments of creativity in a spinning web for others to notice and play with.

So why am I writing this book? What am I saying that is unique, or, more importantly, do I feel needs to be said yet has not been shared so far within existing literature?

Research, particularly research with the self or with people, presents many challenges and constraints. However, often the only mention of these and potential implications is within a formal university ethics approvals process. The requirements of these varies between institutions. Ethical processes are, for the most part, based around medical or clinical research. They are primarily designed to protect institutions from risk (Dingwall 2016), and do not take into account the same safeguarding elements as professional ethics (Hayes 2009). A real-world approach that shifts ethics from ‘do no harm’ towards a social justice perspective is advocated by Helen Kara (2018). She encourages reflexivity even in quantitative researchers to recognise and acknowledge positionality and bias, and a move from the view that science equals objectivity. Kara argued that researchers need a broader view of ethics, and should think of axiology instead as a ‘wider term than ethics’ (Kara 2018: 14). Axiology is a branch of philosophy that incorporates religion, aesthetics, ethics, and how these play a role in the construction of knowledge. Axiology implies the researcher adheres to values such as respect, reciprocity, and relational accountability (Wilson 2008). This in turn means they should be aware of how the research methods they choose can help or hinder the building of respectful relationships, and privilege some stories over others. Conventional Euro-Western research is non-egalitarian, with the researcher holding the power and making all decisions about what and who are researched, the methods used, and how data are analysed and disseminated. Research is done to or on a topic and participants are research subjects. The research is owned by the researcher, and they have control of it. Creative or arts-based, participatory, and embodied research can all challenge assumptions about participants in research and ethics processes with regard to ownership of co-created content, anonymity, and autonomy. Participants may not want anonymity, and might ask for their names or faces to be associated with their stories. They may want to choose which of their stories are shared, how they are presented, and who they are shared with. Research in these paradigms is with people not on them. Data are generated, co-constructed, or co-created, which means a consideration of ethics and axiology needs to continue beyond research design and data gathering, including reflexivity through analysis and dissemination (Kara 2018).

What does it mean to be an artist? An art researcher? Or a researcher who uses art? Is the definition of an artist someone who ‘makes art’, or is artistic expression an integral aspect of human identity open to everyone? If artists draw from their experiences to facilitate their own and others’ creative processes, how and where is this process different from or the same as the ideas of reflection, awareness, and relationship I have discussed? How is it different from using creative research methods with participants? Just as using research methods that can have unintended therapeutic effect does not make a researcher a therapist working with therapeutic intent, using arts-based methods does not automatically make a researcher an artist.

Being an artist

There was a time, before I re-entered academia, that I described myself as an artist. In addition to the textile art I described in the introduction, my movement practice included creative work that served no extrinsic purpose other than to facilitate my clients to explore their body, the way it moved, and how it interacted with the environment around it. I acted as a consultant for bodies including Local Health Authorities, Primary Care Trusts, SureStart Centres, and Birmingham Royal Ballet, using my intuition and expertise to provide workshops and trainings (McMillan 2015). I used movement in many different ways to allow people to find out more about themselves and the ways in which they engaged with the world around them. My work spanned that of an educator, therapist, and participatory artist; using movement as the medium by which I engaged my audiences with the creative process and exploration of self and others rather than creating art for exhibition or performance. I was not a researcher.

When I began my doctoral studies and started my journey into research, my creative and artistic practice suffered. Coupled as it was with a turbulent and demanding time in my private and home life, I found that I did not have the capacity or space to feed an artistic practice beyond that funnelled into my creative research methods and writing. I was not completing a Practiceas-Research PhD, this was not an accepted form of doctorate in education.

The first part of this book touched on ways in which qualitative research borders onto psychotherapy, education, and embodiment. In Part II, I will explore the lessons that can be learned from art, the challenging terrain that represents the no- man's land between science and qualitative research, and the practical and ethical implications of creative and embodied research.

This case study highlights issues around positionality, anonymity, autoethnography, ownership, and dissemination in research, and exemplifies the boundaries of qualitative research with art and with therapy. It draws from a study funded by the Society for Research into Higher Education that used a range of creative approaches to explore embodied academic identity. It will explore questions around positionality and visibility in the process, the challenges and opportunities of taking an autoethnographic approach, as well as considering the outcomes of research such as dissemination and the conflicting pressures on academics to produce outputs that ‘count’ and are not messy.

Context

This study came about from a personal need to explore the tensions that I felt about being an academic. I worked in educational development, with responsibility for supporting others to develop their own sense of academic identity. The idea of what an academic is or should be is not always made clear to an early career researcher.