Power and Positionality in Interactions with Students

In chronicling the power dynamics with migrant students participating in the study, the diversity which existed within and between student groups in the three case studies must be underlined. While at NorQuest and Medis, groups mainly consisted of students from visible minority backgrounds, at Arbis the majority were white, Western and more highly educated.

Cultivating my supportive, non-judgemental role in dealings with migrant students aided by my own migrant and professional background and my appreciation of their oft precarious life situations (see p.104) was generally beneficial. However, varying degrees of language proficiency obfuscated this interaction as did undeniable differences rooted in social position, gender, race and power hierarchies. The following excerpt illustrates one such case;

One student at my table writes nothing and seems to have difficulties either understanding the nature of the task or even the accompanying text. She sits quietly and though I offer to help, she does not ask and becomes quieter and more listless as the others work on. She seems sometimes embarrassed and I don’t know if this has to do with me sitting at the table and witnessing her troubles or something else. (Observation log 26.7. 2015)

It is interesting that although I technically wielded no formal authoritative power in the classroom, I could not erase the obvious differences in status and influence owing to my position as a researcher, as well as the fact that being white endowed me with systemic entitlements unavailable to her. I was an insider, and by wearing my privilege on my face, I belonged. In addition, my (white) migrant “success story” may have been disadvantageous from the perspective of a black student who struggled to fit. In fact, this student also avoided me after the final exams in which she failed to progress to the next language level. In the group interview, she had related the difficulties of her personal and economic position and how she fought to participate in LINC but was forced to drop out periodically due to the economic demands of working full-time as a single mother. This, among other examples, forced me to reassess my own migrant imaginary such as my privileged position in being able to draw upon an extended support network consisting of family, a quality formative education, and the

advantage of not visibly sticking out from the majority in terms of my skin colour. Referring to the latter, in one of the group interviews, a white Russian student intimated that for “people like us” cultural differences in integrating were almost non-existent because our European roots were so culturally similar to those of the host country. Judging from externals, he identified me as a cultural ally, placing me in an “us” vs. “them” category – a dichotomy which I had been conscious to overcome in my efforts to facilitate social access with all migrant students. It became a poignant reminder of one’s tangible, visceral location signified by the body (Merleau-Ponty 1982). This also extended to my gender where being a male researcher in staff circles composed almost entirely of female teachers endowed me with definite advantages. For example, in interactions with certain students and student groups, being taken seriously and garnering respect proved easier.

Another case which illustrated contestations of power and its ethical ramifications concerned my location as an anti-oppressive researcher. It entails adopting a position of partiality and activism in furthering the position of socially disadvantaged groups. In most cases this did not bring me into direct conflict with staff or administrators but there were notable exceptions. One such exception concerned extending the option to students in SFI educations to speak either Swedish or English in our informal interactions in class and in subsequent interviews. Many students chose to express themselves in English as their present Swedish language proficiency was rudimentary and also perhaps as it often represented the lingua franca in their daily social interactions. However, at Medis SFI, administrators were not supportive of the language choice offered.

For instance, I am asked to speak ONLY Swedish with students and that although some of them speak better English, its usage should be avoided as this gives rise to possible discrimination of those students who do not speak the language (fair point). I point out, however, that for my group interviews, I would like to give students the option of choosing an interview language as a way of optimizing their skills and also a means by which I would obtain more detailed and in-depth narratives, their experiences being primary….

“Kristina” seemed to agree reluctantly. (Observation log, 10.10.2016)

The “language issue” was never satisfactorily resolved and although I advocated for student choice in reimagining power hierarchies, there was a clear message from the administration that language multiplicity in the classroom was undesirable. The punitive consequences or breaking the

“rule” were often subtle, being dealt out in small admonitions, looks etc.

but laden with guilt. Ganassin and Holmes (2013) advocate that in order to foreground the voices of all participants, especially vulnerable or marginalized groups, the researcher must ensure an ethical research praxis that is collaborative and multilingual. They argue that such inclusivity is crucial if research outcomes seriously seek to question societal, policy-based and structural practices that maintain dominant knowledges, languages and ideologies.

In another example, while the borderland I inhabited of being “between and betwixt” different groups of participants afforded me the ability to intersect different worlds and identities, it sometimes entailed ethical problems. On one occasion, when a black student had expressed criticisms on humanitarian grounds of Canada’s Anti-Terrorism Act of 2015 (also known as Bill C51) these had been curtly dismissed by his teacher causing him to feel ashamed and affronted. I experienced a real dilemma in how to respond given that the activism role propagated in anti-oppressive research contrasted sharply with role recommendations in methodology texts on participant observation which emphasized researcher “objectivity”

and non-interference (Fine & Sandstrom 1988).

I converse with him afterwards asking him to elaborate his views and agree with him that there are certainly problematic elements in C51. He seems justified though I feel like I contradicted the teacher but simply couldn’t keep silent. Opportunities for opening this up for class discussion and dialogue have been lost. (Observation log 24.7.2015)

Situations in which I felt I had to choose ideological sides in contestations of power did not become easier with time but perhaps I was better able to justify why I did so as a quote from a similar case a year later illustrates:

I feel that that my views can be made known and that perhaps this is not a conflict of interest but rather a way of positioning myself, and defining my own

agency and critical, anti-oppressive research orientation. (Observation log, 7.4.2016)

It has been, and continues to be, an ongoing effort to reconcile a critical, social change-focused agenda given its inherent partiality and activism with the generally sanctioned role of the researcher as impartial and “neutral.”

Nowhere did this conflict become more apparent as in my struggle to achieve relational accountability with study participants (Wilson 2013). The group interviews, for example, confirmed that many students had not been aware that they could demand changes.

Many remarked that this in their experience was the first time that they had been asked their opinions about the program as a whole… I sensed a relief when students felt they were truly being “asked” and that their opinions mattered. (Observation log 12.8.2015)

The wish, expressed by students at the conclusion of interviews, that my study would have concrete tangible outcomes which translated their lived experiences into action by reforming institutional practices is one which I struggle(d) to address. To questions of; “what happens now” and

“when will things change”, I felt that my responses were insufficient, perhaps also because I had been remiss in considering what lay beyond the study’s horizon. Although findings were interrogated in dissemination seminars and concluding conversations with students, teachers and program deans where institutional procedures and structures were critiqued, I also felt conflicted in my own role and constrained by my liminal power position within the institutions in deciding how to push things further. As a result, I experienced a distinct sense of powerlessness in meeting student expectations. This pervasive feeling of insufficiency has been partly responsible for my reluctance in disengaging from the research settings and why my work with the schools has continued in joint project work.

6.7.3 POWER AND POSITIONALITY IN INTERACTIONS