November 19…The Roles of Theory in Educational Research
What light have the authors in
Anyon shed on the issue of how theory should operate in our empirical research
projects? Are there any new confusions that have sprung up in the wake of
reading this book?
When reading about the role theory plays in research, I especially identify with the reflection of Kathleen Nolan. Nolan states that theory is “a veritable overload of thoughts and sensations” (p. 49). I relate to this as no matter what one’s topic, there appears to be an innumerable amount of possible foundations to guide the research. Nolan continues her reflection by analogizing her research journey with a visit to an African market. I think this parallel is appropriate, but offer up a similar description of the theoretical adventure as a downtown walk in a city you have never visited. Having just one day to explore the city and on a limited budget, you are both exhilarated by the day’s possibilities, yet apprehensive of making a wrong mistake. Should I stop and visit this museum, or keep walking knowing that an even better one could be ahead? This restaurant seems nice, but everyone says that one a few blocks away is “the best in town.” I am not like everyone else, though, so I may not like it.
Nolan continues by expressing the role of mentorship in her graduate program, providing her with the tools to make proper decisions regarding theory. This mentorship is like having a tour guide on your downtown walk, or perhaps more applicable to our current state of society, our Yelp app. While we still are left to make the final decisions, we are supported with counsel that aids our process of deciding which museum to visit and which restaurant in which to eat.
The ultimate goal, though, is finding the thread that connects one’s research topic to theory. Nolan says that the theories most applicable to her research “were the ones that seemed to be speaking to the patterns of daily life I was observing” (p. 52). This connection takes place when we use our knowledge of our topic and seek to find the theory that best explains what is occurring. Nolan discusses the fact that this is a recursive process as we go back and forth between the field and analysis of theories. When on our downtown walk, we stop to look at restaurant menus, peruse our Yelp app, stop to talk to locals for advice, spend a few minutes at one art gallery, sample a pastry at a bakery, and continue to attempt to make the best decisions possible in order to find the thread that connects us to what we are in search of.
And going a step further, we may not have a great visit on this day. We likely will have to come back for another visit after reflecting upon our experiences on this visit and determining the best approach to make the next visit even better. Mistakes will likely be made, but through these mistakes we learn more about our topic and the appropriate theory to apply. Then finally, one day, we return to the city and have “the perfect day,” visiting the best museum, seeing a wonderful theatrical performance, eating a great dinner, and ending the day at an exquisite coffee shop. Of course, while we have finally found what works, we know that society changes as new restaurants open, museums change exhibits, and theater ticket prices soar. This is why the research journey is never ending, making it fun and frustrating at the same time.
As I thought about my response to this prompt, I returned to the text and read/re-read each chapters’ “personal reflection” and the epilogue. A clear theme emerged, or as Nolan called it, “a thread” (p. 51). For me, that thread is best described by Michelle Fine in the epilogue as “disarticulate what is and rearticulate what could be” (p. 181). The authors here all have wrestled with theory and used it to get “unstuck” (p.78), to “name the nameless so it can be thought” (oh my heart…p. 79), to “complicate their questions” (p. 182), and to gain the “language to articulate” (p.177). Fine goes on to describe their use of theory to “problematize,” refashion,” and to “destabilize and decenter” (p. 183). She goes on to outline nine meaningful ways that we can (should) deliberately use theory in scholarship. While all nine are worthy of discussion, I am most drawn to the last, that “theory helps us reimagine the relation of the academy to…work” (p.194). As I consider what I imagine for my future, both in the academy and in the world, I find myself spinning mentally in an attempt to orient myself in, with, and around theory. Confusion—there is plenty. I think I need to read more, both in volume and variety, to get myself unstuck.
I see the same theme that Donia has named in Anyon's book-the notion that good theory gives voice to that which has been mute; or sheds light on the experiences to which we've been blind; or provides color to the stones whose beauty was masked by mud. I particularly like Michael Dumas' three lessons for engaging in theoretical inquiry (pp. 104-106): that no one theory will ever do, that no theory is too radical to consider, and that theory is too often nonsense resulting from people just running their mouths. I will hold these lessons close to my heart as I follow the threads that lead me on my own theoretical journey.
It seems to me that confusion at this stage is exactly what we should be, for in confusion we are also broken up, unformed, and have lots of open spaces through which the voices of the world can speak to us. In Eve Tuck's chapter on Theorizing Back, I am captivated by the notion of getting inside the lived experiences of others, and understanding how they theorize and understand their worlds as indigenous people. The paradigm is flipped when we can live inside a place that is not our home. In addition to Dumas' three lessons, I take from Anyon's book that good theory helps us be inside the experiences of others as though we live them ourselves, and as though we do not. When we can straddle those two or many locations, perhaps we have a better chance of seeing that which had gone unidentified and unexplained.
I like Anyon’s introduction, where she reminds us, via Foucault, that data collection without theoretical guidance is blind empiricism (p.1). If we use her definition of theory as a model from which we can draw inferences, an “architecture of ideas” (p.3), then it would seem that research cannot proceed without theory. Yet, there is so much value placed on “gold standard” research that is void of an explicitly stated theoretical underpinning. Worse yet, there is the case of seeking to codify a meta-theory that will somehow “explain” everything. From my perspective, theory has been replaced by the need to produce abstract, generalizable data. We live in a data-driven world where data has been elevated to the status of knowledge, to the status of Truth.
Susan's comment above really struck me. I understand the intent of the statement that "data collection without theoretical guidance is blind empiricism." However, where does that leave the idea of "grounded theory?" Isn't it best, especially with qualitative data, to allow the theory to emerge from the information instead of applying a theory to data that has yet to be analyzed?
I actually see the use of a theoretical framework more important in quantitative rather than qualitative research. Qualitative research is usually exploratory (grounded) or explanatory. I believe that quantitative research should be more tightly tied to theory than qualitative research. Otherwise, a researcher may be "boxing themselves in" and possibly missing what the observed experience is actually telling them.
When reading about the role theory plays in research, I especially identify with the reflection of Kathleen Nolan. Nolan states that theory is “a veritable overload of thoughts and sensations” (p. 49). I relate to this as no matter what one’s topic, there appears to be an innumerable amount of possible foundations to guide the research. Nolan continues her reflection by analogizing her research journey with a visit to an African market. I think this parallel is appropriate, but offer up a similar description of the theoretical adventure as a downtown walk in a city you have never visited. Having just one day to explore the city and on a limited budget, you are both exhilarated by the day’s possibilities, yet apprehensive of making a wrong mistake. Should I stop and visit this museum, or keep walking knowing that an even better one could be ahead? This restaurant seems nice, but everyone says that one a few blocks away is “the best in town.” I am not like everyone else, though, so I may not like it.
ReplyDeleteNolan continues by expressing the role of mentorship in her graduate program, providing her with the tools to make proper decisions regarding theory. This mentorship is like having a tour guide on your downtown walk, or perhaps more applicable to our current state of society, our Yelp app. While we still are left to make the final decisions, we are supported with counsel that aids our process of deciding which museum to visit and which restaurant in which to eat.
The ultimate goal, though, is finding the thread that connects one’s research topic to theory. Nolan says that the theories most applicable to her research “were the ones that seemed to be speaking to the patterns of daily life I was observing” (p. 52). This connection takes place when we use our knowledge of our topic and seek to find the theory that best explains what is occurring. Nolan discusses the fact that this is a recursive process as we go back and forth between the field and analysis of theories. When on our downtown walk, we stop to look at restaurant menus, peruse our Yelp app, stop to talk to locals for advice, spend a few minutes at one art gallery, sample a pastry at a bakery, and continue to attempt to make the best decisions possible in order to find the thread that connects us to what we are in search of.
And going a step further, we may not have a great visit on this day. We likely will have to come back for another visit after reflecting upon our experiences on this visit and determining the best approach to make the next visit even better. Mistakes will likely be made, but through these mistakes we learn more about our topic and the appropriate theory to apply. Then finally, one day, we return to the city and have “the perfect day,” visiting the best museum, seeing a wonderful theatrical performance, eating a great dinner, and ending the day at an exquisite coffee shop. Of course, while we have finally found what works, we know that society changes as new restaurants open, museums change exhibits, and theater ticket prices soar. This is why the research journey is never ending, making it fun and frustrating at the same time.
<3
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ReplyDeleteAs I thought about my response to this prompt, I returned to the text and read/re-read each chapters’ “personal reflection” and the epilogue. A clear theme emerged, or as Nolan called it, “a thread” (p. 51). For me, that thread is best described by Michelle Fine in the epilogue as “disarticulate what is and rearticulate what could be” (p. 181). The authors here all have wrestled with theory and used it to get “unstuck” (p.78), to “name the nameless so it can be thought” (oh my heart…p. 79), to “complicate their questions” (p. 182), and to gain the “language to articulate” (p.177). Fine goes on to describe their use of theory to “problematize,” refashion,” and to “destabilize and decenter” (p. 183). She goes on to outline nine meaningful ways that we can (should) deliberately use theory in scholarship. While all nine are worthy of discussion, I am most drawn to the last, that “theory helps us reimagine the relation of the academy to…work” (p.194). As I consider what I imagine for my future, both in the academy and in the world, I find myself spinning mentally in an attempt to orient myself in, with, and around theory. Confusion—there is plenty. I think I need to read more, both in volume and variety, to get myself unstuck.
ReplyDeleteI see the same theme that Donia has named in Anyon's book-the notion that good theory gives voice to that which has been mute; or sheds light on the experiences to which we've been blind; or provides color to the stones whose beauty was masked by mud. I particularly like Michael Dumas' three lessons for engaging in theoretical inquiry (pp. 104-106): that no one theory will ever do, that no theory is too radical to consider, and that theory is too often nonsense resulting from people just running their mouths. I will hold these lessons close to my heart as I follow the threads that lead me on my own theoretical journey.
ReplyDeleteIt seems to me that confusion at this stage is exactly what we should be, for in confusion we are also broken up, unformed, and have lots of open spaces through which the voices of the world can speak to us. In Eve Tuck's chapter on Theorizing Back, I am captivated by the notion of getting inside the lived experiences of others, and understanding how they theorize and understand their worlds as indigenous people. The paradigm is flipped when we can live inside a place that is not our home. In addition to Dumas' three lessons, I take from Anyon's book that good theory helps us be inside the experiences of others as though we live them ourselves, and as though we do not. When we can straddle those two or many locations, perhaps we have a better chance of seeing that which had gone unidentified and unexplained.
I like Anyon’s introduction, where she reminds us, via Foucault, that data collection without theoretical guidance is blind empiricism (p.1). If we use her definition of theory as a model from which we can draw inferences, an “architecture of ideas” (p.3), then it would seem that research cannot proceed without theory. Yet, there is so much value placed on “gold standard” research that is void of an explicitly stated theoretical underpinning. Worse yet, there is the case of seeking to codify a meta-theory that will somehow “explain” everything. From my perspective, theory has been replaced by the need to produce abstract, generalizable data. We live in a data-driven world where data has been elevated to the status of knowledge, to the status of Truth.
ReplyDeleteSusan's comment above really struck me. I understand the intent of the statement that "data collection without theoretical guidance is blind empiricism." However, where does that leave the idea of "grounded theory?" Isn't it best, especially with qualitative data, to allow the theory to emerge from the information instead of applying a theory to data that has yet to be analyzed?
ReplyDeleteI actually see the use of a theoretical framework more important in quantitative rather than qualitative research. Qualitative research is usually exploratory (grounded) or explanatory. I believe that quantitative research should be more tightly tied to theory than qualitative research. Otherwise, a researcher may be "boxing themselves in" and possibly missing what the observed experience is actually telling them.