The blog article, co-authored by Victoria Redclift (former Bonnart scholar) and Kusha Anand, seeks to highlight how the pandemic has brought to our attention pre-existing inequalities in healthcare and economics within British Bangladeshi communities.

Read the entire article on the Institution of Education blog.

David Rypel is a PhD student at UCL in Slavonic and East European Studies. His research asks how questions of belonging and security interweave in the everyday life of queer Georgians.

We (that is, social scientists) seem to like thinking about how we may or may not affect the matter we study. It was a big part of my undergraduate methodological training. My teachers would present us with a puzzle: How should we conduct our inquiries so that we do not inadvertently disturb our research objects? Unless intended and in an experimental setting, causing a change during research means creating a distortion – that was the idea.

Only later was I introduced to methodologists who recognise that such alterations are not only nearly impossible to avoid but can yield exciting outcomes too. Using the words of Michael Burawoy, distortions are “music to be appreciated” rather than noise because that is when we notice mundane things hidden in plain sight. And, of course, then there are kinds of research where a direct change is one of the goals.

But here is a curious thing: We do not talk so much about the ways research may affect, disturb, or transform us (that is, social scientists). Why is it so? Some may believe that bringing attention to researchers is irrelevant or inappropriate; indeed, autoethnography, a research method that employs the researcher’s own experience, is sometimes criticised for being narcissistic. And it would not be hard to cast this lack of interest as an issue of gender stereotypes: To reflect on one’s experience and admit susceptibility to change is a position of vulnerability, but the desired ideal is a researcher who is capable of changing things (or exercising self-control) but remains seemingly unchanged…

Anyway, research does seem to transform us, and sometimes in quite personal ways. Or at least it affects those of us who are required to immerse ourselves in contexts we study, as conversations with my fellow ethnographers suggest. Those changes may be small and incremental or big and sudden. They may be positive: My research prompted me to have a more honest conversation with myself about my sexuality. But they might be bad or traumatic too. Especially the latter is why we should discuss this topic with our students and colleagues to prepare ourselves and support each other; we often have the privilege of stepping out of the context we study whenever we wish, but that does not make us completely resistant.

March 2021

December 2020