I’m at the point in the research where I’m actually drafting the questions to ask people, and it’s exciting yet it also feels a little sad. It’s a reminder that actually doing things you want to do and care about risks messing things up and dealing with messy reality but it is good to push through that for the same reasons. It has felt like a dance between ideas and reality, the literature and exploring peoples’ lived experience as well as between myself as a researcher and the people I’m asking questions of.
It feels a bit sad because to choose is to pick some things and to leave others behind. Areas that I’m really interested in, that I think would be useful, where it seems like there’s a gap – they are getting cut. Sometimes it’s because they feel too far removed from the subject, that it doesn’t feel like it would help to provide responses that add up to a cohesive set of information. This also means that if I’m asking questions I don’t think I can clearly use the answers from, I’m not being respectful of people’s time by getting them to fill in survey responses I can live without. Some questions have similarly had to be culled because I think, even though they are closely related to the area, I’ve got too many questions overall to realistically expect people to complete a survey that long. Especially because, for the kind of number of people I need to complete the surveys, I’m relying on more than just my partner and a couple of friends completing it.
In that narrowing down, from the general broad-brush ideas to the very specific questions it means a lovely idea – which can be all of the myriad of good things I can imagine – becomes a distinct thing. That narrowing down means I have to let go of all kinds of possibilities, some of which I can envisage now and some of which might only become apparent later on down the line.
One of the things I love and find very bracing about Oliver Burkeman is his repeatedly coming back to the idea of the finitude of human life and how we’re always choosing what to put our time and energy into, even if it doesn’t feel like we’re choosing. That we can’t do all of the things, even as we might want to. And that even if we think we’re getting around this by just not deciding, that’s still kind of a decision, just not a proactive one. So it’s better to try and put as much of your time as possible into things that you actively care about rather than just putting things off or getting your faff on.
So it is that, as can often be the case, aspects which makes it feel sad are also what makes it feel exciting. Doing this work gives a strong sense that the work is moving into a different phase and becoming more real. Trying to translate the general concepts I want to explore and picking the words, weighing and testing them – is this too leading? How would I use the responses to that? Trying to come up with answers for survey responses that respect the plurality of views and contexts that people can have about their experiences of home and how they make decisions about things. Imagining the discussions that I would have with people, the kinds of responses that they might give, the worlds and experiences – many of them beautiful but, given home can for too many be a space of violence and insecurity, also experiences that can be difficult and upsetting for them to reflect upon. Thinking about the kinds of follow-up questions and how to frame things to try and give people the space to talk about things without putting words in to their mouth.
In thinking of the structure of the interview, that too feels like a dance – something created between myself and the person being interviewed. Thinking through the logistics and trying to imagine how it might feel to move from one area or question to another. Are there too many questions – and the other person will feel like they are getting rushed and crushed around? That I am stepping on their toes, rushing to talk over them or hurrying them along to try and get all of the questions covered. Is that going to create a stressful situation for both of us – as though we’ve got the dancing equivalent of sweaty hands or stepping on each others toes? Watching the clock and calculating the number of questions still go to rather than being fully engaged in what the person is saying. Considering what kind of time people need to give considered responses, while still being able to get through enough questions that I get a sense of the lay of the land for them. Helping them move through the discussion and also allowing myself to be changed by what they have to say. Reflections that someone might offer up resonate differently when thinking about them in the context of what others share.
The dance still isn’t done, the questions need to be reviewed and updated. Then I want to pilot them to see how they translate in practice. It could be I put my left leg out and then have to pull it right back in again, or it turns out I’ve got two left feet or some similarly mangled metaphor. Nonetheless, that feeling of exploring and continuing to turn ideas into action is the kind of dance I want to be doing all of my days…
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