I was delighted to be asked to write this foreword for Jennifer Leigh’s book. I have consistently been fascinated by the range and breadth of experience and literature that she weaves into her research, and this book is no exception! These days, it is very common for funders and other bodies to suggest that research should be interdisciplinary, however, how this should be achieved is much less clear. Furthermore, at a time when there is a push for these methods, the dearth of research methods literature to guide the way is a striking absence, surely diluting the potential impacts of interdisciplinary collaboration. As such, this book fills a much-needed gap in the literature.

Based upon her decades of experience as a scientist, therapist, and educator, Leigh’s research is consistently at the cutting edge of interdisciplinary research, for example, involving hard science – in this case chemistry – with consideration of embodied practices. It is this cutting-edge exploration, described in a highly accessible way, that researchers can find within Borders of Qualitative Research. In doing so, Leigh identifies ways in which the subjectivities and embodied realities of scientists impact on their practice, challenging the dominance of positivist world views and opening up a range of ontological perspectives. In doing so, the potential for harm to (under-supported) researchers is front and centre, raising important questions about the support provided to novice researchers, which are relevant to new and seasoned researcher alike.

Although these types of philosophical debates and considerations of how to change the academy for the better are challenging, Leigh takes readers on a gentle journey, sharing her own experiences to illustrate key points. First, she considers subjective research practices, including the use of qualitative methods, including those which rely on creative methods and embodied practices. Later she establishes current disciplinary boundaries, from art, science and ethics, before finally showing interdisciplinarity through a series of case studies. I am sure that by the end of reading this book any reader will be considering their practice through a different lens, which can help to identify ways in which creativity and embodiment can add to hard science research, while simultaneously reducing the potential for harm.

According to the internet (so it must be true): ‘the scientific method is the process of objectively establishing facts through testing and experimentation. The basic process involves making an observation, forming a hypothesis, making a prediction, conducting an experiment and finally analyzing the results’ (Science Buddies n.d.). The scientific method is familiar to most of us, as it is the way children are taught to ‘do’ science throughout a school education. What is notable in the scientific method and the way that it is most commonly taught in schools is the absence of reflection, self-awareness, or the importance and impact of the relationship between the scientist and the world around them. Science is acknowledged as being ‘hard’, possibly because it is abstract (Millar 1991). As a result, science is seen as something worthy, and success in science something to celebrate (Frank 2012). This may be one reason why some social scientists aspire to be taken seriously as ‘scientists’ and hold fast to a scientific ideal (Flyvbjerg 2006).

One of the key tenets of the scientific method is scientific objectivity:

Julian and Jan Sprenger continued:

Chapter 11 provides an overview of the terms for talking about grammar instruction and learning, including implicit learning vs. explicit learning and implicit knowledge vs. explicit knowledge. With these common terms defined, the chapter then describes several instructional approaches that researchers have utilized to better understand how language learners build their understanding of the target language. Particular attention is paid to focus-on-form and form-focused instructional strategies.

It is vitally important that a qualitative researcher is self-aware, reflective, and reflexive; particularly one using creative and embodied methods (Leigh and Brown 2021a). Reflection and reflexivity can be used interchangeably, and though they are linked, they are not the same (Leigh and Bailey 2013). Being reflective is the process of looking and examining what is there, how we reacted, or what has happened – the literal act of looking into a mirror – ideally performed without judgement, enhancement, or filters. Reflection is a necessary element of being reflexive, and being consciously self-aware enhances the ability to be reflective. Being reflexive can be understood as the process of reflecting on those reflections, taking into account the context, positionality, and using that insight to act rather than react, and choose what happens next.

I am not a lone voice calling for reflection and reflexivity in researchers. Ian Stronach and colleagues described how reflexivity, and different models of reflexivity are intrinsic to creative methodology in educational, scientific, and artistic research (Stronach et al 2007). Mike Poltorak saw embodied reflexivity as crucial in visual anthropology research and education (Poltorak 2019). Susan Hall stated it is essential in action research (Hall 1996a). Sarah Pink (2007, 2009) and Venus Evans-Winters (2019) saw it as essential to ethnographic research, and Aimee Grant (2018) for documentary analysis. Virginia Braun and Victoria Clarke developed a widely adopted approach to qualitative analysis ‘Reflexive Thematic Analysis’ which demands reflexivity to ensure quality1 (Braun et al 2012, 2019; Braun and Clarke 2013, 2016, 2019, 2021a, 2021b; Clarke and Braun 2019). Amanda Moffat and colleagues believed that reflexivity is key for a researcher’s self-care (Moffat et al 2016). It might seem obvious to say that reflexivity is essential throughout a qualitative research process from design, to data generation, and analysis (Leigh and Brown 2021a). However, Ben Newton and colleagues found that far too often reflexivity is still lacking in qualitative research (Newton et al 2011). The ways in which researchers are supposed to develop reflexivity are ‘hardly discussed’ (Pink 2009: 50). This may be because reflection and reflexivity are seen as hard to teach (Leigh and Bailey 2013), and researchers are lacking the skills they need to reflect effectively.

The vast majority of qualitative research involves others; as participants, cocreators, or audience. Leaving aside audiences for now, when a qualitative researcher is working with participants or co-creators and wants to elicit data or engage, they have to form a relationship with them. The same is true for educators when they educate others, and for artists who work with or for community groups. However, it is therapists who receive training on how to form, build, and contain relationships with a specific intent. This lesson draws on psychotherapy to understand the constituents of a therapeutic encounter or relationship, so researchers, educators, and artists might better understand the encounters they have and the relationships they form with their participants, students, or co-creators.

The purpose of psychotherapy

Psychotherapeutic approaches are intended to allow others (clients) to share and explore their stories with trained therapists so that they can process their experiences and heal. As such, psychotherapists undergo specific training to support their work and development as a therapist. While these trainings vary in length and content depending on the specific nature of the psychotherapeutic approach, they would all cover similar general principles in order to adhere to the guidelines and codes set by the professional bodies in their country (examples of these are the Standards of Conduct, Performance and Ethics set out by the UK Health and Care Professions Council; Codes of Ethics and Conduct from the British Psychological Society; Ethical Principles of Psychologists and Code of Conduct from the American Psychological Association; the Association of Family Therapy Code of Ethics and Practice; and similar codes set by various bodies including the UK Council for Psychotherapy and the British Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy). These codes all include practical ways of engaging and building a relationship with a client, establishing trust, boundaries, and creating an environment in which the client is happy to share personal and often emotional stories and the therapist is working to strict professional ethics to safeguard their own safety and that of their client. The purpose of therapeutic training is to build and facilitate the natural skills of the therapist (Budd et al 2020).

Chapter 4 explores why incorporating pairings and grouping in language classrooms has been found to support learners’ language skills. In particular, research has found that the opportunity to negotiate for meaning and participate in communicative interactions is a key result of peer interactions. Authors interpret these findings and propose a series of classroom-based activities for readers to sample in their lessons.

Chapter 15 focuses on how language learners develop pragmatic competence in a new language and target culture(s). Through presenting a variety of real-life examples, the authors highlight the importance of teaching language learners what sorts of communication styles they might encounter outside of the classroom and what interactional approachs may be more or less appropriate given these social situations. Both receptive and productive practices for teaching pragmatics are shared at the conclusion of the chapter.

I am an interdisciplinary researcher. My passion is utilising embodied and creative qualitative research to capture transient evocative moments and authentic stories of people’s lives (Leigh and Brown 2021a). I am particularly interested in exploring and sharing the subjective experiences of those who are marginalised, and highlighting these testimonials in order to effect change. The life I lived beyond academia as a scientist, therapist, teacher, and artist taught me lessons about intention and impact imperative for all qualitative researchers; particularly those using creative and embodied methods. It showed me how art, education, therapy, and qualitative research share borders and lie adjacent to science. A naive or unwary researcher, artist, or educator can easily get lost, or even harm themselves and their participants if they find themselves in unfamiliar therapeutic territory. Researchers, artists, therapists, and educators are trained to navigate in different lands.

I am a researcher. However, before I became a researcher I was a scientist, and I accepted that there was an objective and absolute truth, and purity in the scientific method. Before I became a researcher, I was a therapist. I worked therapeutically with a humanistic and person-centred ethos using movement, words, and creative outputs such as drawing or mark-making in the service of others to help them process difficult experiences. My work facilitated others to learn from and take what they needed from their own lives and their relationships with the world and others around them, and to let go of what they no longer needed. Before I became a researcher, I was a teacher. I trained to teach children aged 11–19 in science, and worked with children aged four and older with and without special educational needs across the curriculum in the UK. Before I became a researcher, I was an artist, using movement and fibre to capture ephemeral moments of creativity in a spinning web for others to notice and play with.

So why am I writing this book? What am I saying that is unique, or, more importantly, do I feel needs to be said yet has not been shared so far within existing literature?

Research, particularly research with the self or with people, presents many challenges and constraints. However, often the only mention of these and potential implications is within a formal university ethics approvals process. The requirements of these varies between institutions. Ethical processes are, for the most part, based around medical or clinical research. They are primarily designed to protect institutions from risk (Dingwall 2016), and do not take into account the same safeguarding elements as professional ethics (Hayes 2009). A real-world approach that shifts ethics from ‘do no harm’ towards a social justice perspective is advocated by Helen Kara (2018). She encourages reflexivity even in quantitative researchers to recognise and acknowledge positionality and bias, and a move from the view that science equals objectivity. Kara argued that researchers need a broader view of ethics, and should think of axiology instead as a ‘wider term than ethics’ (Kara 2018: 14). Axiology is a branch of philosophy that incorporates religion, aesthetics, ethics, and how these play a role in the construction of knowledge. Axiology implies the researcher adheres to values such as respect, reciprocity, and relational accountability (Wilson 2008). This in turn means they should be aware of how the research methods they choose can help or hinder the building of respectful relationships, and privilege some stories over others. Conventional Euro-Western research is non-egalitarian, with the researcher holding the power and making all decisions about what and who are researched, the methods used, and how data are analysed and disseminated. Research is done to or on a topic and participants are research subjects. The research is owned by the researcher, and they have control of it. Creative or arts-based, participatory, and embodied research can all challenge assumptions about participants in research and ethics processes with regard to ownership of co-created content, anonymity, and autonomy. Participants may not want anonymity, and might ask for their names or faces to be associated with their stories. They may want to choose which of their stories are shared, how they are presented, and who they are shared with. Research in these paradigms is with people not on them. Data are generated, co-constructed, or co-created, which means a consideration of ethics and axiology needs to continue beyond research design and data gathering, including reflexivity through analysis and dissemination (Kara 2018).

Chapter 18 discusses the role of resources like textbooks, guided readers, newspapers, and blogs in language classrooms. The authenticity, comprehensibility, and pedagogical qualities are examined in light of second language acquisition theories. The chapter also includes a guide for teachers to use as they evaluate the resources in their curriculum.

Chapter 1 discusses the role of target language production, or output, in the language learning process. Through examining hypotheses in the field of second language acquisition, as well as learner data, the authors consider why it is important for learners to have the opportunity to talk and write in the language they are learning. Strategies for how to structure these types of interactions and how to promote language production in learner-centered lessons are also included.