The Pleasure of Painful Scholarship

In keeping with the legal academy’s embrace of empiricism and original research, qualitative interviewing has become an increasingly popular methodology in legal scholarship. One of the most wonderful outcomes of qualitative research–the relationship that one develops with research participants–can also be the most terrifying. As a researcher, having participants trust you with sensitive information is humbling, and gives rise to a corresponding desire to represent the experiences of these participants as accurately as possible. The semantic difference between research “participants” and research “subjects” reveals a great deal about how a researcher conceives of the interviewer-interviewee relationship.

I have thought quite a bit about the relationship between a qualitative researcher and her participants since May, when I began in earnest my book project addressing the impact of capital trials and executions on Oklahoma City Bombing victims’ families and survivors. My conclusions in this book are based upon interviews that I conducted a few years back for my dissertation–lengthy affairs conducted in-person with participants. During the many hours I spent with each individual, I asked them very personal questions about how the bombing affected their lives, what coping strategies they utilized, and most pertinently, the perceived impact of Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols’ capital trials and McVeigh’s execution. I am currently conducting a second round of interviews with these same participants to test a few of my original conclusions because I initially adopted a grounded theory research methodology.

One term that has haunted both rounds of interviews is “closure.” Participants are very conflicted about whether to use the term. While they adamantly reject the possibility of “closure” in its popular sense of “absolute finality,” they feel unable to leave it behind entirely, and thus are likely to refer to “forms of closure” to describe processes of healing and/or acceptance that are attainable (a dilemma described in my article forthcoming in the Indiana Law Journal, available here). This, of course, creates a corresponding dilemma for me as an author: how will I use the term “closure” in my book? If I use the term in the book’s title, for example, potential readers will instantly recognize what I am writing about. Yet, I gain this familiarity at great expense–to do so, I must in some sense subscribe to a usage that victims’ families and survivors regard as callous, inaccurate, and downright painful.

This catch-22 is worth careful consideration. If it were not for that bond with my participants, and a corresponding appreciation and respect for their perspectives, I probably would not care so much about the use of “closure” and would not have spent nearly so much time wrestling with this term and its semantic implications. I am, however, very thankful that I have done so. The best qualitative scholarship is that which has the potential to change and enrich the researcher as a person in addition to providing insight into her chosen subject matter. My favorite projects have always “marked” me in some way. Qualitative scholarship is unique in that the participants’ presence is likely to be very palpable in the writing process, and certainly in the final product.

Fortunately, I have reached a tentative “closure” on “closure”–my current plan is to incorporate the term into the book’s title in a way that renders its inadequacies immediately obvious (i.e., “the myth of closure”), and to spend a good portion of the preface explaining my perspective on the term. In reaching this conclusion, I’ve not only become reacquainted with feeling my participants’ presence as I write, but I’ve also gained a healthy appreciation for the differences between authoring a dissertation that is highly likely to gather dust on a shelf and an academic book that stands a much better chance of being read. Fortunately, I’ve also found that my participants make great companions.

Posted by Jody Madeira on August 18, 2009 at 12:58 AM

Comments

I think you made the right choice, Jody – just remember that any publisher is going to make recommendations on the title based on the input of its marketing department. I think something like “The Myth of Closure,” whether in the title or subtitle, is very intriguing and attention-grabbing, but the publisher may disagree – it will be nice to be able to show them some version of your post above if you have to defend your choice.

Posted by: Mark D. White | Aug 18, 2009 6:56:41 AM

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