Pilot Study Day 3 - Blood, Toys & Ethics

Such an interesting session with the group! We talked about (through trying out) research methods involving objects and artefacts, we got into ethics, and there was lots of fun to be had, although not - hurrah! - on noisy swingy chairs. On ethics first... I wanted to get a baseline of what the children thought it meant to be ethical and how a researcher would go about researching ethically. Perhaps not the best way in (and ain't hindsight a wonderful thing!), but I thought asking about something very serious (so, umm...obtaining blood samples from children) would provoke a strong call for appropriate ethical action and responsible research. However, on asking whether it would just be okay to take a blood sample from a child, the swift reply came that they would first need to be 'knocked out'...much merriment ensued at this point, and we veered off track for a while (as we often do!). We didnt quite descend into stories of bloodthirsty zombies, although it felt like it might go this way. In fact, good points were noted about asking permission, making people aware of what the research involved, and also (the idea I liked best that came directly from the group) that research should be interesting for the participants...not necessarily a matter of ethics this one, but there is a philosophical link there. Can we expect participation to be meaningful and ethical if the participant feels their time is squandered? In an effort to move things on (away from the gore!), we refocused with literacy books, ostensibly so we could look at how talking 'to' or 'about' something can prompt or elicit more involved and complex thinking and talk in response. Recently, the childen have been writing dreamscape stories, and I asked some open-ended questions about these. What was immediately apparent was how much the children were engaged with their learning in this subject: they talked in an animated way about their story choices, selection of accompanying images, specific word choices, and favourite excerpts, sharing these excitedly in the group. We followed this 'book look' with some discussion of personal objects that I asked the group to bring in that were of value to them. Briefly, the objects were: a much-loved wooden ruler showing the kings and queens of England, a glossy new World Cup 2022 sticker book, a super precious 'robot in disguise' transformer, a beautiful and important small ceramic heart, two smart and well-kept cards from Buckingham Palace, and the most fantastic toy wheel a kid ever had - the latter belonging to myself (and yes, still often played with). The objects led to fascinating discussions, prompted by good questions, and in some cases quite personal narratives emerged. All of this was great, but perhaps because of the torrent of excitement as we pored over books and examined treasures, it was more difficult to stand back and unpick this experience from the research side and discuss the relative merits or pitfalls of researching in this way. We did get there, though, and the children were reflective, but it got me wondering, and it got me talking. Later that morning, in fact, wandering and wondering with Dr J, I wondered aloud that perhaps I should be seeking to divide the experience, to be methodoligically clinical... in other words, engage the group in activity and then create a more distinctive space for reflective meta-learning. But would this be a step too far? Would this undermine the nature of this semi-structured activity and create artificiality? I am loathe to do this...and actually this could be a step back to the teacher I once was, as opposed to a step forward towards the researcher I am becoming. Dr J also pointed out that the nature of this experience is entirely unique and that data generated by the project are unique also, and no doubt revealing. Much pondering, questioning and even soul-searching lies ahead, I think, but I'm okay with all that; as John Dewey noted, avoidance of dogma and an embrace for uncertainty and complexity is critical in learning