Informed Consent, Harm Reduction and Confidentiality . 127

In the following section, I will briefly highlight how ethical issues relating to ensuring participants’ informed consent and harm reduction, as well as the protection of confidentiality, were negotiated within the parameters of my study. Many of these have already been elucidated in discussions on anti-oppressive critical research (see pp.78-91) but will be briefly summarized here.

The concept of informed consent entails that the researcher has endeavoured to accurately inform participants of the nature of the research.

It presupposes that the latter can only consent if they are fully cognizant of the nature of their requested involvement in the study, including time commitments, types of responsibilities, discussion topics, and some of the potential physical and emotional risks involved. Informed consent implies that participants are intellectually competent to understand the nature of the research, meaning that they have the intellectual capacity and psychological maturity necessary to reflect on their involvement in the study and that they are autonomous in makingself-directed choices.

There is a danger in institutional settings, such as schools, that gatekeepers – teachers or administrators – determine student involvement in a study and thus jeopardize another key component of informed consent, namely voluntariness. In order to mitigate against research “on them”

which objectifies and disempowers, coercion even with paternalistic “best intentions” must be deemed ethically indefensible. Moreover, participants must be made aware of their right to discontinue their involvement at any stage of the research, free from obligation and pressure to continue or inducements such as money or other rewards. Lastly, informed consent behooves the researcher to be as forthright as possible about the nature of their research, including their professional affiliations or academic standing, and the intended uses of their study (O'Leary 2004, pp.52-56)

With regards to researcher honesty in presenting study aims and potential outcomes, informed consent from prospective participants was solicited by sending letters of introduction as well as through introductory face-to-face discussions and workshops. A factor which facilitated introductions to staff was that contacts with specific gatekeepers in the integration educations including head administrators and teachers had been established in advance. With students, I hoped to address a lack of prior familiarity by insisting on open introductory sessions with every student group where issues of informed consent and confidentiality were emphasized. Particularly with migrant participants, I endeavoured to use language which corresponded to their level of comprehension in both letters of consent and in personal discussions. I also checked the appropriateness of the letters’ language niveau with LINC and SFI teachers

prior to their distribution. These were then signed, returned and stored in case study files in order to add to the chain of evidence for ethical conduct in my research. In addition, at the outset of both individual and group interviews, discussion aims were generally reiterated, as well as assurances of confidentiality and the voluntary nature of participation including the right to discontinue. Prior to commencing with the fieldwork periods of participant observations, the right “not to be observed”, nor to be included in observation log entries was also explained to students (Bilger & Van Liempt 2009).

A shortcoming, from an anti-oppressive research perspective in this manner of ensuring informed consent is that shared responsiblities for all research stages and outcomes are not negotiated from the outset of the process. Even if the researcher seeks to ensure informed consent, it is still largely ex post facto and researcher-driven, with its inherent power imbalances. Seeking to ascertain what participants hope to derive from the ongoing research and how it may facilitate a betterment of current institutional arrangements and inclusion practices is important but, ideally participant needs and wishes ought to have dictated study parameters from the planning stages. One example of such a collaborative approach can be found in my group interviews with migrant students.

Lastly, with regards to disclosing my professional affiliations and academic standing, as well as the intended uses of my study, I endeavoured to represent these as honestly as possible during initial information sessions. Later it became obvious, however, that particularly migrant students had hoped for more concrete change-driven outcomes which could be “seen” in altered institutional arrangements. Explaining my study’s limitations not only exposed my own liminal power position but left me feeling as if I had failed them (see pp.124-127).

The ethical imperative of doing no harm in social science research generally encompasses emotional or psychological harm, rather than physical injury. This makes the protection against “harm” a conflictual, problematic area because risk factors may be difficult to identify and predict. Especially in case study research where all participants spend lengthy periods of time interacting within the study environment, research

may spark resentment, incite fear or anxiety, be perceived as embarrassing, or dredge up unpleasant memories or emotional pain (O’Leary 2004, p.53).

Contrastingly, the degree of embeddedness of the researcher may also be beneficial in allowing for enough time and familiarity to address issues of harm prior to the conclusion of the study. In any case, causing harm, albeit unplanned and unintentional, can easily happen. Within anti-oppressive or more participant-centered research designs, the epistemology underlying methodology choice and implementation reinforces harm mitigation. What my study lacked in initial collaboration with participants in selecting and implementing research methods, I tried to redress within the course of case study fieldwork. For example, in opting for group- instead of individual interviews with migrant students, I sought to create a safer environment where the threshold for interrogating sensitive topics within supportive groups would arguably be lower than in one-to-one interviews.

Group interviews also address the shared components of experience in integration educations and facilitate collective consciousness raising with their inherent empowering potential thereby reducing harm (Linhorst 2002). However, in interviews with vulnerable groups, the researcher must be cognizant of the extra responsibility for mitigating harm this method of data collection entails. It is a very real possibility that the insensitive treatment of/by one individual here could harm the entire group of persons who already have previous experiences of disempowering treatment (Bilger

& Van Liempt 2009). My own level of embeddedness within the schools (see pp.81, 89, 105-106), role choices (see pp.81, 104, 107, 122, 124-127) and socializing with students outside of class helped to sensitize me to their situations and to possible areas of harm. However, this does not suggest that my position and role were uniformly perceived of as unproblematic as the example with the black female student demonstrated (see pp.121-122).

With staff, the rapport which developed during participant observations and over the two in-depth rounds of interviews created a level of trust and security which the openness of their reflections attests to. For many, the interviews provided a cathartic safe zone in times of institutional upheaval (see pp.89 & 126). Areas of potential harm, actualized in some teachers’

concerns about having been too frank or critical in some of their observations, were alleviated by making transcripts available to them for

perusal. The other area of potential harm encapsulated in administrator’

insecurities in light of what they perceived the aims of the study to be, was more difficult to resolve. Despite repeated assurances and explanations of the exploratory, inclusive aims underpinning the research, some administrators remained guarded (see p.125). Lastly, the aims of debriefing sessions as well as dissemination seminars during which students and staff interrogated the study’s main results were to alleviate issues of concern.

Ideally, they also contributed to an atmosphere of open dialogue which I hoped served as a foundation for the whole study.

Another ethical obligation intricately interconnected with assurances of harm avoidance is that of ensuring confidentiality. Stated simply, it involves protecting the identity of those, apart from the researcher, participating in the study. Initially, confidentiality entails safeguarding information obtained in collaborative cooperation with other participants and the secure storage, management and negotiated access to information. In addition, the publication of research findings must proceed in a manner which preserves the integrity and anonymity of participants. Confidentiality also involves trust building and communicating research integrity, both of which are central components of anti-oppressive critical research. In my study, this hinged on my ability to be self-reflexive about my own role and position as well as to create an inclusive dialogue about the nature of the study in letters of consent, informal conversations and during information seminars.

Within critical research approaches, the protection of an individual’s identity and integrity is realized if participants have opportunities to control what type of information is disseminated about them, how it is collected, by whom and the nature and disclosure of this information (Bilger & Van Liempt 2009). This presupposes levels of participation and partnership and a radical inversion of the knower-learner paradigm not consistently realized in my study (see pp.85 & 91). Although, I chose collaborative research methods which involved participants in co-creating group interviews and offered them choices of interview language and location, (see pp.82, 101-104, 131) their “ownership” of the process in other areas was limited.

Participants were not involved in the selection of methods, nor in decisions concerning who collects the data and how it was analyzed. While dissemination seminars and the returning of interview transcripts gave

participants some control over presentation and content, they were not involved in the subsequent dissemination of findings, except in an advisory capacity. Some reasons for this included the logistical and time constraints circumscribing the field work periods in the three case studies.

Regarding the identifiability of information; the names of the participating educational institutions are disclosed, while the identities of interviewees were protected by assigning pseudonyms and by the non-disclosure of identifying background information. In my presentation of preliminary findings in each of the schools, I also used some quotes from one of the other field studies in illustrating main themes, in order to prevent certain passages from being able to be identified by participants. This further highlighted how many themes transected and transcended the local contexts of integration educations.

Another integral component of confidentially alluded to earlier, is case study data storage. There must be considered strategies for storing, accessing and managing research materials in order to avoid conflicts which jeopardize trust among participants and consequently the trustworthiness of the research (Drugge 2016, p.209). Especially when working with vulnerable participants such as migrant students, data access by whom and for what purposes was a recurring question. In information sessions and prior to interviews, I therefore, reiterated that aside from me and my thesis supervisors, no one would be granted access to the raw data which included identifying information. I also devised a data management plan which ensured that during and after the project, all data would be secured in a locked storage at the Swedish School of Social Science and saved on secure University servers with each file protected by a password. In addition, raw research data, such as interviews and collected participant observation logs would conditionally be deposited – after negotiations with study participants – within the Finnish Social Science Data Archive. Such data will exclude identifying information.

Lastly, one must consider how the publication of research findings preserves the integrity of participants. Given that publications serve multiple purposes from engendering public discussion, exposing one’s research to the scientific scrutiny of peers, providing a springboard for

others to further develop ideas and contributing to social change, they must meet a number of quality assurance requirements regarding confidentiality (Gustafsson, Hermerén & Petterson 2005). The latter is especially crucial here, because research reports are generally the least participant-collaborative elements of a study. How those who generously donated their time and expertise in co-creating the research are identified and represented remains the sole responsibility of the researcher and thus generates a unique burden of proof. In part, the in-depth and open nature of interviews and subsequent dissemination sessions, helped clarify how participants ought and wished to be portrayed. It also helped to discuss issues of representation with colleagues at CEREN sharing similar backgrounds in critical, anti-racist and decolonial research. Their insights after reading and critiquing portions of text on ethical issues and methodology, were invaluable. However, I am still insecure and uncertain as to how my participants will perceive their portrayal in my publications, understand my findings and effectively evaluate the study’s impact in effecting a betterment of their condition. It remains my fervent hope that the atmosphere of goodwill and reciprocal learning which characterized the fieldwork will be preserved within its written re-productions, reinterpretations and community debates.

In considering the ethical ramifications of my research, I also took into account the ethical codes enshrined by various professional associations within the social sciences (i.e. ISA 2001, TENK 2009, IFSW 2017). Before receiving permission to commence with my NorQuest College fieldwork, I had to submit a thorough ethical application to the RDC (Red Deer College) Research Ethics Board in which all relevant issues especially risk factors and protection from harm as well as data management were subjected to stringent scrutiny. At the study’s conclusion, RDC also required a reflective account of the researcher’s own assessment of having met pertinent ethical guidelines for research with human subjects. Both the application and justifications were deemed to be sufficient.

7 EMPIRICAL FINDINGS

In presenting my empirical findings, I have chosen a narrative-based theory approach which prioritizes the ongoing dialectic between theory and data. I have therefore elected to interweave theoretical perspectives, placed at the end of each section, with the narratives to capitalize on the synergy between participants’ voices and conceptual language. The resulting conversation between data and theory revolves around competing interpretations of social inclusion within integration educations and the inclusectionalities these create. With the term inclusectionalities, I have coined a concept denoting the intersections of inclusion and exclusion through which the liminal spaces, that position migrant students as between and betwixt belonging and othering, come into view.

Narratives explore these inclusectionalities by highlighting the interplay of personal, cultural and structural factors in “colouring” inclusion efforts within LINC and SFI. Though the distinctions between these factors are pervious and porous, it is in their interplay that the nature of what is meant by “inclusion”, or “integration” is revealed. In seeking to foreground my participants’ voices, I leaned on two particular questions in deciding the narrative flow of the empirical findings: Can participants see themselves in the study, and; How can I maximize the impact of their voices? As such, I opted to include a wide selection of primary quotes in their original language in the text as a way of centering and informing my reflections. The empirical findings thus shuttle back and forth between representations of first-hand accounts and theoretical interpretations of the different guises’

inclusion takes in integration programs. I hope that by examining the fluid inter-relations between exclusion and inclusion and how these subsequently reframe understandings within the settings of integration educations, my narrative choice communicates the immediacy of research results and goes some way to coupling them to social change objectives.

The three constituent themes discussed in these chapters are presented by moving from the practical, institutional manifestations of inclusion to more of an exploration as to where and how these efforts intersect to create

liminal spaces. Therefore, the first theme (1), Inclusion Within the Walls, examines the interpersonal, curricular and institutional arrangements through which inclusion is negotiated within the schools while theme two, (2) Inclusion Beyond the Walls, extends such negotiations to the society in which they are embedded. The final theme, (3) (Colour) Blind Spots, shifts the focus from the more observable and tangible to those discourses or conversations which in their taken-for-grantedness seem to be “absent.”

They are rarely critically interrogated, yet by permeating program delivery, they evolve into institutional policy.