Stories: A researcher’s dream (read: nightmare)

So lately I’ve been working on a qualitative research project. 

Report (via via stock.xchng)

For all of you out there who speak normal non-jargony English, it’s basically thinking about the content of what people say and making sense of it.

Which is a lot harder than it might sound. Especially because often the people whose content you’re trying to decipher are not the great writers or speakers of our generation. No, often they’re just everyday people. Full of life, meaning, and perspective that has incredible value and importance, but whose thoughts sometimes come out in a big explosion of gobbledeegook (much like this last sentence).

So when it’s my job to make sense out of the gobbledeegook, and when the researcher in me wants to make sure I don’t miss anything important and that I’m really capturing the whole story, I get a little anxious.

Because there’s a lot that’s being said, even (and perhaps especially) when the speech ceases. Even in the smallest pause, there is meaning. The ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’ convey the process of thought – of finding the right words to say. The processes of thought, speech, and communication are so complex that it’s virtually impossible to capture all of it sufficiently.

And maybe embracing that is the first step to making sense of it all.

Part of the problem I have is that I was trained to be a numbers person (quantitative researcher). I’m used to working with numbers and statistics to tell me what I need to know about an individual or group of people. It’s clean(er), easy(ier), and all together less (usually) complicated.

Passion (via stock.xchng)

But the thing that I’ve realized since I started working in the field of stories is that though numbers provide a certain perspective on a problem or group of people, they do not tell the whole story. Reducing people to a series of numbers does not capture the inherent complexity of the human condition. When we talk to our neighbors, we don’t talk in numbers. We tell stories. When we give presentations to convey meaning, we use words, not just numbers, to get the point across.

There is value in numbers to be sure. It gives a certain type of perspective. It provides a semi-detached and clean look at a particular problem of interest. But to assume that that perspective is complete limits our understanding of the complex humanness of our lives. The stories people tell provide a window into that human condition, a view of the challenges and triumphs faced everyday by everyday people. And there is a profound complexity to understanding those stories, to make sense of them in a way that does not do disservice to the story-sharers, or to the bravery of their sharing.

The truth is, it’s hard to combine the words, phrases, or even the ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ so that they coalesce into some sort of coherent meaning that tells the story of the whole without losing the voice of the one.

Because every person’s story and voice is unique. And the qualitative research process seeks to honor that, while still distilling the uniqueness of individual thoughts to form a collective and representative whole. And it’s really hard to get that just right.

But that’s my challenge.

Wish me luck. I’ll let you know how it goes.