Speculative Pedagogies of Qualitative Inquiry

Candace R. Kuby, Rebecca C. Christ

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9780367250478
• eBook ISBN: 9781000740370
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Education
• Subtopic: Education Curricula

In Speculative Pedagogies of Qualitative Inquiry, the authors discuss what "inquiry" is and how we teach it — and if it is even possible to teach. With a proliferation of how-to manuals for doing qualitative research, the time is ripe for a discussion not only on what we teach (curriculum) but also how we teach (pedagogy).

This book seeks to teach students to become qualitative inquirers, not with a formulaic recipe but rather by showing them how to think from a place of uncertain, (w)rest(full), relational liveliness. The authors seek to create qualitative inquiry courses that create spaces that consider our abilities to respond to, come to know (epistemology), be (ontology), and do (axiology) qualitative inquiry. Thus, a main thread of this book is (re)thinking and (re)imagining inquiry that they come to conceptualize as (in)query. The authors use both data from graduate level research courses and theoretical concepts from poststructuralism, posthumanism, and feminist "new" materialism.

This book is timely in the face of a growing neoliberal academy that values prescription and repetition over innovation, thinking differently, and engaging with research. It will be an invaluable resource for graduate students looking to use qualitative inquiry in their research.

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(Re)etymologizing

Our thinking/writing/theorizing together

Source: Artwork by Amber Ward

We invite you to ponder this quote as you enter into this chapter: “I am uneasy about beginning. The Beginning promises the End, with the evidentiary warrant strategically propping up the weighty, tidy essay in the middle” (St. Pierre, 1997, p. 182). Like St. Pierre, we are uneasy about beginning.

During the journey of this book, we have come to think about how the ways in which we know and do and be(come) inquiry(ers)¹ differently changes how we teach inquiry (and if teaching inquiry is even possible). These ideas prompted us to consider the speculative nature of inquiry and teaching it (again, if possible). And, in this book, we are trying to bring the reader on the journey with us – through our thinking about inquiry differently and what it produced as we taught (in the past and in the present of the writing of this text and in the possible futures, collapsed onto paper for you as best as we can).

The four words threaded throughout this book – uncertain, (w)rest(full), relational, and liveliness – are not just the beginning opening but also the non-conclusory ending; pastpresentfuture² are collapsed here in fruitful possibility. When thinking about time linearly, we should mention (we suppose) that we didn’t articulate these four words when we first taught these classes; we didn’t consciously start our class(es) from this place of inquiry as uncertain, (w)rest(full), relational liveliness, but we were always already putting these four words to work as teachers.³ Nevertheless, we trusted the philosophical ideas we were reading and thinking about enough to try them out (e.g., thinking with theory assignment and in-class making with theories and artistic materials) – in many cases, without naming them. We thought and taught differently because of these concepts. Now, we (try to) name them and have “tangible” examples of how they (may) have operated.

One trouble, however, with/in writing this book is linearity. This book is not a text that we linearly wrote; rather, it is a pastpresentfuture exploration of concepts. Therefore, this nonlinearity shapes how we write the book – and the order of (re)presentation. We view the end chapter as also a beginning chapter and co-constituted with every other chapter in between. So, we aren’t telling a linear story – as if we had a research question, then produced data, then analyzed that data, and now are presenting the findings about teaching qualitative inquiry. Rather, we had already read poststructural, posthumanist, and feminist “new” materialist theories before teaching, and we could not think/be(come)/do without them, we also had not yet sat down to articulate what inquiry (or teaching it) is for us while thinking with these ideas. So, that’s what this book is about; after more years of (re)reading and (re)thinking and (re)entering data from the initial Qual I course we co-taught and from pastpresentfuture experiences, in addition to more readings, we are articulating what was already happening related to inquiry and its teaching and the possible futures to (be)come.

The aim of this book, therefore, is to discuss how we, as instructors of qualitative inquiry, pause⁴ to question what “inquiry” is and how we teach it – and/or perhaps consider if it is even possible to teach “inquiry” (a question inspired by Elizabeth A. St. Pierre). This project is needed and timely, in the growing neoliberal academy, which values prescription and repetition – the teaching of formulaic, recipe-like methods – over innovation, thinking differently, and engaging in research as a living-with others. We believe it is necessary and hopeful to stop and think about what is produced in the teaching and learning of qualitative inquiry. We have a proliferation of how-to manuals, for example, on designing research studies, coding, interviewing, and writing up qualitative research, and yet at the same time, a growing proliferation of writing on how these how-to manuals prohibit thinking and newness; these scholars are questioning the normalized, taken for granted ways of doing qualitative inquiry (e.g., Koro-Ljungberg and MacLure, 2013; Lather and St. Pierre, 2013; Lenz Taguchi and St. Pierre, 2017; St. Pierre, Jackson, and Mazzei, 2016; St. Pierre and Jackson, 2014). So, the time is ripe for a discussion not only on what we teach (curriculum) but also how we teach (pedagogy) students to be(come) qualitative inquirers – not with a formulaic recipe but rather to think from a place of uncertain, (w)rest(full), relational liveliness. How we teach qualitative inquiry impacts what the academy is and becomes as well as impacts the communities we research-with. Thus, we are not writing a how-to manual on how to teach like we did (and/or as we continue to teach), but we are trying to bring you, the reader, on the journey with us through the theorypractice⁵ of teaching qualitative inquiry.

(Re)etymologizing as inquiry practice(s)

Over the years, and inspired by reading Haraway’s (2008, 2016) work, we have found ourselves looking up words in dictionaries. We often wonder how a word is defined and what its etymology is, how it came to be and how it is used, and what it means and how that meaning has shifted over time. We muse⁶ on these definitions and etymologies, not in a quest to find “The” answer but rather it is in the process of searching for definitions and etymologies that our thinking is undone and newness about a concept/word is produced. Often times, what we think we know about a word is not actually what we know or find (or what is produced). Instead, the multiple meanings of a word and/or a prefix and/or a suffix and/or a root opens up other possibilities to think about/with words. We do not identify as etymologists (or linguists for that matter), but we find this etymological inquiry productive for our (re)thinking; in short, we are both seeking meaning in words and to undo/trouble/refute that meaning at the same time.

etymology | ˌedəˈmäləjē |

noun (plural etymologies)

the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history.

• the origin of a word and the historical development of its meaning.

Origin

late Middle English: from Old French ethimologie, via Latin from Greek etumologia, from etumologos ‘student of etymology’, from etumon, neuter singular of etumos ‘true’.

Take for example, the word etymology itself.⁷ Etymology, a noun, meaning “the study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history” comes from the Greek word etumon, which is the neuter singular version of etumos meaning “true.”

true | tro͞o |

adjective (truer, truest)

1. in accordance with fact or reality
   • [attributive] rightly or strictly so called; genuine
   • [attributive] real or actual
   • said when conceding a point in argument or discussion
2. accurate or exact
   • (of a note) exactly in tune.
   • (of a compass bearing) measured relative to true north
   • correctly positioned, balanced, or aligned; upright or level.
3. loyal or faithful
   • [predicative] (true to) accurately conforming to (a standard or expectation); faithful to
4. chiefly archaic honest

Origin

Old English trēowe, try¯we ‘steadfast, loyal’; related to Dutch getrouw, German treu, also to truce.

truce | tro͞os |

noun

an agreement between enemies or opponents to stop fighting or arguing for a certain time

Origin

Middle English trewes, trues (plural), from Old English trēowa, plural of trēow ‘belief, trust’, of Germanic origin; related to Dutch trouw and German Treue, also to true.

True, “in accordance with fact or reality,” comes from Old English meaning “steadfast, loyal” and is related to “truce,” which is an “agreement between enemies or opponents to stop fighting or arguing for a certain time” – you see, we have just come to an agreement to stop fighting for a certain time over what a word means, but it doesn’t end the war over meaning forever. In this way, we consider a way of inquiring with/in/through etymology as a (re)etymologizing – to do etymology (we verb it) once more, afresh, anew (one meaning of prefix re-), as well as with frequentative or intensive force (another meaning of prefix re-), as well as with negative force (yet another meaning of the prefix re-).⁸ We seek to be thinking with and against words at the same time, in new, intensive ways – coming to a truce about meaning while never forgetting that truces, like meaning, are often fleeting.

We believe our inquiry/writing practices of (re)etymologizing aligns with and is inspired by poststructural and post qualitative writings on language and representation. For example, Derrida (1974/2016) writes that texts are fluid and meaning is fleeting, always in a process of deconstruction and différance. Scholars such as MacLure (2013) question the materiality of language and representation. St. Pierre (2011b) writes, “Poststructuralism… alerts us that meaning is always deferred and that language, spoken or written, cannot be trusted to transport meaning from one individual to another.” (p. 51). We also believe that words are fluid, ever-changing, and they beg us to (re)think and (re)claim them as tools for inquiry otherwise.

As St. Pierre (2018) writes:

Thus, the post qualitative inquirer does not know what to do first and then next and next. There is no recipe, no process. This is truly experimental inquiry – attending to the surprises that point to difference and refusing the impoverished answers we’ve given to the questions the world has posed. If one has read and read, one cannot not put theory to work – it will happen. The post qualitative inquirer who has prepared herself must trust herself and do the next thing, whatever it is – to experiment – and to keep ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• CONTENTS
• List of figures
• Acknowledgments
• Preface
• Introduction: a backstory to our curriculumpedagogy
• 1 (Re)etymologizing: our thinking/writing/theorizing together
• 2 The be(com)ing of (in)query as uncertain (w)rest(full) relational liveliness
• Rabbit hole: rabbit holing
• 3 Trust(ing): strings strongly stringed together in mundane everydayness
• Rabbit hole: succulent muse
• 4 Navigating and negotiating: be(com)ing qualitative (in)querers
• Rabbit hole: fullness
• 5 E/Intervening: an ethics of always, already being in-between
• Rabbit hole: theorypractice
• 6 Speculative pedagogies of qualitative inquiry
• References
• Index