Data collection methods

97
4
Data Collection Methods
Qualitative researchers typically rely on four methods for gathering
information: (a) participating in the setting, (b) observing directly,
(c) interviewing in depth, and (d) analyzing documents and material cul-
ture. These form the core of their inquiry—the staples of the diet. Several
secondary and specialized methods of data collection supplement
them. This chapter provides a brief discussion of the primary and the
secondary methods to be considered in designing a qualitative study.
This discussion does not replace the many excellent, detailed references
on data collection (we refer to several at the end of this chapter). Its pur-
pose is to guide the proposal writer in stipulating the methods of choice
for his study and in describing for the reader how the data will inform
his research questions. How the researcher plans to use these methods,
however, depends on several considerations.
Chapter 1 presents an introductory discussion of qualitative method-
ological assumptions. As the grounding for a selection of methods, we
extend that discussion here, using Brantlinger’s (1997) useful summary
of seven categories of crucial assumptions for qualitative inquiry. The
first concerns the researcher’s views of the nature of the research: Is the
inquiry technical and neutral, intending to conform to traditional
research within her discipline, or is it controversial and critical, with an
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explicit political agenda? Second, How does she construe her location,
her positioning relative to the participants: Does she view herself as dis-
tant and objective or intimately involved in their lives? Third, what is
the “direction of her ‘gaze’”: Is it outward, toward others—externalizing
the research problem—or does it include explicit inner contemplation?
Fourth, what is the purpose of the research: Does she assume that the pri-
mary purpose of the study is professional and essentially private (e.g.,
promoting her career), or is it intended to be useful and informative to
the participants or the site? Related to the fourth category is the fifth:
Who is the intended audience of the study—the scholarly community or
the participants themselves? Sixth, what is the researcher’s political
positioning: Does she view the research as neutral or does she claim a
politically explicit agenda? Finally, the seventh assumption has to do
with how she views the exercise of agency: Does she see herself and the
participants as essentially passive or as “engaged in local praxis”?
(Brantlinger, p. 4). Assumptions made in these seven categories shape
how the specific research methods are conceived and implemented
throughout a study. Explicit discussion of assumptions strengthens the
overall logic and integrity of the proposal.
PRIMARY METHODS
Observation
Observation entails the systematic noting and recording of events,
behaviors, and artifacts (objects) in the social setting chosen for study.
The observational record is frequently referred to as field notes—detailed,
nonjudgmental, concrete descriptions of what has been observed. For
studies relying exclusively on observation, the researcher makes no spe-
cial effort to have a particular role in the setting; to be tolerated as an
unobtrusive observer is enough. Classroom studies are one example of
observation, often found in education, in which the researcher docu-
ments and describes actions and interactions that are complex: what
they mean can only be inferred without other sources of information.
This method assumes that behavior is purposeful and expressive of
deeper values and beliefs. Observation can range from a highly struc-
tured, detailed notation of behavior structured by checklists to a more
holistic description of events and behavior.
In the early stages of qualitative inquiry, the researcher typically
enters the setting with broad areas of interest but without predetermined
98 DESIGNING QUALITATIVE RESEARCH

categories or strict observational checklists. In this way, the
researcher is able to discover the recurring patterns of behavior and
relationships. After these patterns are identified and described
through early analysis of field notes, checklists become more appro-
priate and context-sensitive. Focused observation then is used at later
stages of the study, usually to see, for example, if analytic themes
explain behavior and relationships over a long time or in a variety of
settings.
Observation is a fundamental and highly important method in all quali-
tative inquiry. It is used to discover complex interactions in natural
social settings. Even in studies using in-depth interviews, observation
plays an important role as the researcher notes the interviewee’s body
language and affect in addition to her words. It is, however, a method
that requires a great deal of the researcher. Discomfort, uncomfortable
ethical dilemmas and even danger, the difficulty of managing a rela-
tively unobtrusive role, and the challenge of identifying the big picture
while finely observing huge amounts of fast-moving and complex
behavior are just a few of the challenges.
Whether a researcher is simply observing from afar or finding a
participant-observer role in the setting, some contexts may present dan-
gers. Street ethnography is a term that describes research settings which
can be dangerous, either physically or emotionally, such as working
with the police (as Manning did, described in Chapter 3), drug users,
cults, and situations in which political or social tensions may erupt into
violence (Weppner, 1977).
Observations involve more than just “hanging out.” Planful and
self-aware observers use observation systematically ( DeWalt & DeWalt,
2001). At the proposal stage, the researcher should describe the
purpose of the observing, the phase of the study in which it is likely to
be most fruitful, and the use of field notes to respond to the research
questions.
Field notes are not scribbles. The proposal writer should have
explicit note-organizing and note-management strategies. Figure 4.1
provides an example of edited and “cleaned-up” field notes for a study
of kindergarten teachers. O’Hearn-Curran (1997) has formatted descrip-
tive notes in a column on the left while reserving a second column on
the right for her comments. These include her emerging analytic
insights about the behavior. Observers’ comments are often a quite
fruitful source of analytic insights and clues that focus data collection
more tightly (more on this in Chapter 5). They may also provide impor-
tant questions for subsequent interviews.
Data Collection Methods 99

Tuesday, November 13, 1997 12:40 p.m.
Observation
There are 17 children in the room. There are 3 adults:
1 teacher, 1 classroom assistant, and 1 student
teacher (the student teacher is an older woman).
The room is in the basement of the school. The school
is a brick building approximately 90 to 100 years old.
The room is about 40 feet by 30 feet. The room is
carpeted and is sectioned off by furniture. There is an
area with big books and a chart in the left-hand back
corner of the room. Next to that is a shelf with a
mixture of small books, tapes, and big books in
baskets. Next to that is a small area with toy kitchen
furniture and dolls. There is an area with several
tables in front of the kitchen area. There are many
small chairs pulled up to the table. In the front of the
room is an area with a sand table. There is a
semicircle table in the left-hand front corner of the
room. The walls are colorful with papers that have
been made by the children. One wall has papers with
apples on them. Another wall has pictures of children
with their names on the front of the papers. There are
several small windows in the room and the florescent
lighting seems to be the major source of light.
The children have just come into the room. They have
put their coats and backpacks onto their hooks in the
hall outside.
Observer’s comments
The teacher seems to
have done a great job
of making the room
seem very inviting. The
space itself is not
optimal
Most of the children
appear to know the
routine
Participant Observation
Developed primarily from cultural anthropology and qualitative soci-
ology, participant observation (as this method is typically called) is both an
overall approach to inquiry and a data-gathering method. To some degree,
it is an essential element of all qualitative studies. As its name suggests,
participant observation demands firsthand involvement in the social
world chosen for study. Immersion in the setting permits the researcher
to hear, to see, and to begin to experience reality as the participants do.
Ideally, the researcher spends a considerable amount of time in the setting,
learning about daily life there. This immersion offers the researcher the
opportunity to learn directly from his own experience. Personal reflections
are integral to the emerging analysis of a cultural group, because they pro-
vide the researcher with new vantage points and with opportunities to
make the strange familiar and the familiar strange (Glesne, 1999).
Figure 4.1 Sample Field Notes

This method for gathering data is basic to all qualitative studies
and forces a consideration of the role or stance of the researcher as a
participant observer—her positionality. We have explored issues of her
role more fully in Chapter 3. We reiterate that, at the proposal stage, it
is helpful to elaborate on the planned extent of participation: what the
nature of that involvement is likely to be, how much will be revealed
about the study’s purpose to the people in the setting, how intensively
the researcher will be present, how focused the participation will be,
and how ethical dilemmas will be managed. The researcher should be
specific as to how his participation will inform the research questions.
In-Depth Interviewing
Qualitative researchers rely quite extensively on in-depth inter-
viewing. Kahn and Cannell (1957) describe interviewing as “a conver-
sation with a purpose” (p. 149). It may be the overall strategy or only
one of several methods employed. To distinguish the qualitative inter-
view from, for example, a journalist’s or television talk-show interview,
we might speak of its width instead of its depth (Wengraf, 2001).
Interviewing varies in terms of a priori structure and in the latitude the
interviewee has in responding to questions. Patton (2002, pp. 341–347)
puts interviews into three general categories: the informal, conversa-
tional interview; the general interview guide approach; and the stan-
dardized, open-ended interview.
Qualitative, in-depth interviews typically are much more like con-
versations than formal events with predetermined response categories.
The researcher explores a few general topics to help uncover the partici-
pant’s views but otherwise respects how the participant frames and
structures the responses. This method, in fact, is based on an assumption
fundamental to qualitative research: The participant’s perspective on the
phenomenon of interest should unfold as the participant views
it (the emic perspective), not as the researcher views it (the etic perspec-
tive). Adegree of systematization in questioning may be necessary in, for
example, a multisite case study or when many participants are inter-
viewed, or at the analysis and interpretation stage when the researcher
is testing findings in more focused and structured questioning.
The most important aspect of the interviewer’s approach is con-
veying the attitude that the participant’s views are valuable and useful.
The interviewer’s success will depend on how well he has anticipated
and practiced his role in ethical issues, as discussed in Chapter 3.
Interviews have particular strengths. An interview yields data in
quantity quickly. When more than one person participates (e.g., focus

group interviews, discussed later), the process takes in a wider variety of
information than if there were fewer participants—the familiar trade-off
between breadth and depth. Immediate follow-up and clarification are
possible. Combined with observation, interviews allow the researcher to
understand the meanings that everyday activities hold for people.
Interviewing has limitations and weaknesses, however. Interviews
involve personal interaction; cooperation is essential. Interviewees
may be unwilling or may be uncomfortable sharing all that the inter-
viewer hopes to explore, or they may be unaware of recurring patterns
in their lives. The interviewer may not ask questions that evoke long
narratives from participants because of a lack of expertise or familiarity
with the local language or because of a lack of skill. By the same token,
she may not properly comprehend responses to the questions or various
elements of the conversation. And at times, interviewees may have
good reason not to be truthful (see Douglas, 1976, for a discussion).
Interviewers should have superb listening skills and be skillful at
personal interaction, question framing, and gentle probing for elabora-
tion. Volumes of data can be obtained through interviewing but are
time-consuming to analyze. Finally, there is the issue of the quality of
the data. When the researcher is using in-depth interviews as the sole
way of gathering data, she should have demonstrated through the
conceptual framework that the purpose of the study is to uncover and
describe the participants’ perspectives on events—that is, that the sub-
jective view is what matters. Studies making more objectivist assump-
tions would triangulate interview data with data gathered through other
methods. Finally, because interviews, at first glance, seem so much like
natural conversations, researchers sometimes use them thoughtlessly,
in an undertheorized manner, as if the respondent is surely providing
“an unproblematic window on psychological or social realities”
(Wengraf, 2001, p. 1).
Figure 4.2 provides elaborated notes from an interview conducted
for a study of students of color in a community college. Koski (1997) was
particularly interested in how these students identified and defined effec-
tive teachers. She was intrigued with the notion of culturally relevant
pedagogy and conducted several in-depth interviews with teachers
identified by students as especially effective. She has formatted the
notes from the interview to provide space for her comments, as did
O’Hearn-Curran in the field notes presented in Figure 4.1.
In addition to generic in-depth interviewing, there are several more
specialized forms, including ethnographic interviewing, phenomeno-
logical interviewing, elite interviewing, focus-group interviewing, and
interviewing children. We now describe each of these methods briefly.

Interview with DC October 15,
1997 1:30-3:40
Setting: DC’s office in the academic
department. It’s bright and lively—colorful
tapestry on one wall, posters on the other
walls. A giant poster about “I am okay.” Books
and papers are everywhere. On the corner of
the desk are some wood games: tic-tac-toe,
pyramid, and others.
DC is a small, dark-colored woman with
her hair in small but longish braids all over
her head. She wears large glasses and a
pinkish shade of lipstick that complements
her coloring. She is lively, with a ready smile
and a quick laugh. She comments on her
height: “I’m smaller than all my advisees, so
I’m not a threat to anyone.”
I explain what I’m interested in and what
my project is about. I tell her that I would like
three things from her: One is an idea of what
she as an adviser thinks are the attributes of
a good teacher and what her students of
color say, which teachers might possess
those attributes, and which students I might
talk to for the project.
DC: “OK. Good. Well, ask me a question.”
KK: “Tell me a little bit about what you do.”
DC: “I’m an adviser here. We get them in
fresh off the street. I sit down with them and
make out an educational plan. I like it when
they know what’s expected of them.”
DC: “The educational plan lists not only
courses to be taken but clubs and other
student activities. It lists the advising events
the student will attend.”
DC returns. KK: “How many students do
you have?”
DC: “About 100.”
KK: “100! Are you able to have a
relationship with so many?”
DC: “I feel I’m an advocate for students.
I do whatever needs to be done to get them
through this. I tell them not to overload, to
relax about this. . . . I think being honest with
students is important. If I don’t know, I tell
them. But we can always look it up on the
Net!”
DC is an adviser
with an academic department.
The interview was set
up by the dean.
DC listens very intently here.
This is an awkward moment
for me and for her. I wasn’t
sure what to do. This general
question seems to surprise
her.
She hands me a form that
she has worked on with a
student. Just then someone
comes in and tells her she
has an important phone call
that they can’t transfer. She
leaves for about 10 minutes. I
am able to look around.
I don’t remember her exact
answer here. Something
about keeping in touch.
Figure 4.2 Sample Field Notes

Ethnographic Interviewing
Based on cognitive anthropology, ethnographic interviewing elicits
the cognitive structures guiding participants’ worldviews. Described as
“a particular kind of speech event” (Spradley, 1979, p. 18), ethnographic
questions are used by the researcher to gather cultural data. Ethnographic
interviewing is not simply doing an interview. Instead, it is an elaborate
system of a series of interviews structured to elicit insiders’ cultural
knowledge. Spradley identifies three main types of questions: descrip-
tive, structural, and contrast. Descriptive questions allow the researcher
to collect a sample of participants’ language. Structural questions dis-
cover the basic units in the participants’ cultural knowledge, and contrast
questions provide the ethnographer with the meaning of various terms.
The value of the ethnographic interview lies in its focus on culture
through the participant’s perspective and through firsthand encounter.
This approach is especially useful for eliciting participants’ meanings
for events and behaviors and for generating a typology of cultural clas-
sification schemes. It also highlights the nuances of the culture. The
method is flexible in formulating working hypotheses and avoids over-
simplification in description and analysis because of its rich narrative
descriptions.
There are weaknesses in this method, however. The ethnographer
can impose her values through the phrasing of questions or the inter-
pretation of data (a concern with all forms of research but perhaps
especially salient with qualitative methods). If the member of the cul-
tural group chosen to participate does not represent that culture, the
subsequent analysis will be impoverished. The success of this method,
as in all interviewing, is highly dependent on the researcher’s inter-
personal skills.
Phenomenological Interviewing
Phenomenological interviewing is a specific type of in-depth inter-
viewing grounded in a philosophical tradition. Phenomenology is the
study of lived experiences and the ways we understand those experi-
ences to develop a worldview. It rests on the assumption that there is
a structure and essence to shared experiences that can be narrated. The
purpose of this type of interviewing is to describe the meaning of a
concept or phenomenon that several individuals share.
As developed by Seidman (1998), three in-depth interviews
compose phenomenological inquiry. The first focuses on past experience
with the phenomenon of interest; the second focuses on present experi-
ence; and the third joins these two narratives to describe the individual’s
essential experience with the phenomenon. Prior to interviewing,

however, the researcher using this technique has written a full description
of her own experience, thereby bracketing off her experiences from those
of the interviewees. This phase of the inquiry is referred to as epoche. The
purpose of this self-examination is to permit the researcher to gain clar-
ity from her own preconceptions, and it is part of the “ongoing process
rather than a single fixed event” (Patton, 1990, p. 408).
The next phase is called phenomenological reduction; here, the
researcher identifies the essence of the phenomenon (Patton, 1990). The
researcher then clusters the data around themes that describe the “tex-
tures of the experience” (Creswell, 1998, p. 150). The final stage, structural
synthesis, involves the imaginative exploration of “all possible meanings
and divergent perspectives” (Creswell, 1998, p. 150) and culminates in a
description of the essence of the phenomenon and its deep structure.
The primary advantage of phenomenological interviewing is that
it permits an explicit focus on the researcher’s personal experience
combined with those of the interviewees. It focuses on the deep, lived
meanings that events have for individuals, assuming that these mean-
ings guide actions and interactions. It is, however, quite labor-intensive
and requires a reflective turn of mind on the part of the researcher.
Interviewing of Elites
An interview with an “elite” person is a specialized case of inter-
viewing that focuses on a particular type of interviewee. Elite individ-
uals are considered to be influential, prominent, and/or well-informed
in an organization or community; they are selected for interviews on
the basis of their expertise in areas relevant to the research.
Elite interviewing has many advantages. Valuable information can
be gained from these participants because of the positions they hold in
social, political, financial, or administrative realms. Elites can provide an
overall view of an organization or its relationship to other organizations,
albeit from their own limited and bounded perspectives. They may be
quite familiar with the legal and financial structures of the organization.
Elites are also able to report on an organization’s policies, histories, and
plans, again from a particular perspective. Interviewing religious or
political leaders would be obvious examples, as is Bennis and Nanus’s
(2003) study of 90 corporate executives. Less obvious examples include
interviews with gang leaders, union bosses, or tribal chiefs.
Elite interviewing also presents disadvantages. It is often difficult
to gain access to elites because they are usually busy people operating
under demanding time constraints; they are also often difficult to con-
tact initially. (This is also a consideration when requesting interviews
with, for example, rural village women who have substantial work

responsibilities.) The interviewer may have to rely on sponsorship,
recommendations, and introductions for assistance in making appoint-
ments with elite individuals.
Another disadvantage in interviewing elites is that the interviewer
may have to adapt the planned structure of the interview, based on the
wishes and predilections of the person interviewed. Although this is
true with all in-depth interviewing, elite individuals who are used
to being interviewed by the press and other media may well be quite
sophisticated in managing the interview process. (Sophistication and
political astuteness are not exclusively the domain of elites, and we do
not mean to suggest that they are.) They may want an active interplay
with the interviewer. Well practiced at meeting the public and being in
control, an elite person may turn the interview around, thereby taking
charge of it. Elites often respond well to inquiries about broad areas of
content and to open-ended questions that allow them the freedom to
use their knowledge and imagination.
Working with elites often places great demands on the ability of
the interviewer to establish competence and credibility by displaying
knowledge of the topic or, lacking such knowledge, by projecting an
accurate conceptualization of the problem through thoughtful question-
ing. The interviewer’s hard work usually pays off, however, in the qual-
ity of information obtained. Elites may contribute insight and meaning
to the interview through their specific perspectives. On the other hand,
elites (just like other interviewees) may well have only vague under-
standings of a setting that is limited by a narrow viewpoint.
Interviewing Children
Children may be the primary focus of a study or one of many
groups the researcher wants to interview. Increasingly, there are calls
for including children’s perspectives as relevant and insightful in
learning more about aspects of their worlds. This is especially true in
education where all too often those most affected by educational policy
and programmatic decisions—the students—are absent from inquiry.
There are special considerations, however, when the qualitative
researcher proposes a study that involves children.
First are age considerations. Interviewing preschoolers, for
example, is quite different from interviewing early adolescents. Young
children are often active; early adolescents are frequently very self-
conscious. Three-year-olds, exploring their emerging language skills,
can drive one to distraction with their incessant questions (often quite
sophisticated ones!), whereas early adolescents may be taciturn. It is

unrealistic to expect young children to sit still for long, but joining them
in some activity can create a climate for focused talk. Some adolescents
may feel more comfortable with their peers in a focus-group interview,
whereas others may prefer the intimacy of one-to-one interviews.
Decisions about how to gather data with various age groups requires
sensitivity to their needs, their developmental issues, and flexibility.
Second are role considerations. Fine and Sandstrom (1988) note
that the roles an adult researcher assumes when studying children vary
along two dimensions: “(1) the extent of positive contact between adult
and child, and (2) the extent to which the adult has direct authority
over the child” (p. 14). They offer the roles of supervisor, leader,
observer, and friend as appropriate. Of these, they find the role of
friend the most fruitful, noting that the researcher then interacts with
the children “in the most trusted way possible—without any explicit
authority role” (p. 17). They caution, however, that age and power
differences between adults and children are always salient.
Background and Context and Review of Documents
For every qualitative study, data on the background and historical
context are gathered. This may not be a major part of data collection
but at least, in proposing a particular setting, the researcher gathers
demographic data and describes geographic and historical particulars.
When she reviews old property transactions, skims recent newspaper
editorials, or obtains information from a Web site, she is collecting data.
Whether or not she counts this as data collection, she must proceed
with caution.
Knowledge of the history and context surrounding a specific
setting comes, in part, from reviewing documents. Researchers supple-
ment participant observation, interviewing, and observation with
gathering and analyzing documents produced in the course of every-
day events or constructed specifically for the research at hand. As such,
the review of documents is an unobtrusive method, rich in portraying
the values and beliefs of participants in the setting. Minutes of meet-
ings, logs, announcements, formal policy statements, letters, and so on
are all useful in developing an understanding of the setting or group
studied. Research journals and samples of free writing about the topic
can also be quite informative.
Archival data are the routinely gathered records of a society, com-
munity, or organization and may further supplement other qualitative
methods. For example, marital patterns among a group of Mexicans,

discovered through fieldwork in a community, could be tested through
marriage records found in the offices of the county seat or state capitol.
Descriptions of articulated funding priorities by policymakers could be
corroborated (or not) through an analysis of budgetary allocations. As
with other methodological decisions, the decision to gather and analyze
documents or archival records should be linked to the research ques-
tions developed in the conceptual framework for the study. Further-
more, documents must be viewed with the skepticism that historians
apply as they search for truth in old texts.
The use of documents often entails a specialized analytic approach
called content analysis. The raw material for content analysis may be
any form of communication, usually written materials (textbooks,
novels, newspapers, e-mail messages); other forms of communication—
music, pictures, or political speeches—may also be included. Histori-
cally, content analysis was viewed as an objective and neutral way of
obtaining a quantitative description of the content of various forms of
communication; thus, counting the mention of specific items was
important (Berelson, 1952). As it has evolved, however, it is viewed
more generously as a method for describing and interpreting the arti-
facts of a society or social group.
Probably the greatest strength of content analysis is that it is
unobtrusive and nonreactive: It can be conducted without disturbing
the setting in any way. The researcher determines where the empha-
sis lies after the data have been gathered. Also, the procedure is rel-
atively clear to the reader. Information can therefore be checked, as
can the care with which the analysis has been applied. A potential
weakness, however, is the span of inferential reasoning. That is, the
analysis of the content of written materials or film, for example,
entails interpretation by the researcher, just as in the analysis of
interactively gathered data: Numbers do not speak for themselves.
Care should be taken, therefore, in displaying the logic of interpre-
tation used in inferring meaning from the artifacts. Later in the
chapter, we provide more details on historical methods and on con-
tent analysis.
Some combination of these primary research methods is typical
for in-depth qualitative inquiry. In Vignette 16, Shadduck-Hernandez
(1997) articulates a complex design that incorporates several. The
vignette is adapted from her proposal for research about CIRCLE
(Center for Immigrant and Refugee Leadership and Empowerment),
a participatory project involving newcomer undergraduate students,
graduate students, and members from refugee and immigrant
communities.

VIGNETTE 16
Using Multiple Methods
Imagine 12 university students, on a chilly Saturday morning, sprawled out on a
classroom floor formulating their thoughts for a proposal on scattered sheets of
newsprint. Laughter, silence, and intense discussion highlight the writing process
of these authors who are first-generation refugee and immigrant (newcomer)
students from China, Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and Korea participating in an
undergraduate seminar on cross-cultural experiences in community development.
This dissertation research acknowledges the real tensions that exist in
any qualitative research endeavor. Certain models can be rigid, one-way
streets if they seduce participants into a process of inquiry in which the
researcher alone is the analyzer and interpreter of data. This study con-
sciously tried to counter such situations by applying participatory research
as the guide of the inquiry (Maguire, 2000; Reardon, Welsh, Kreiswirth, &
Forester, 1993). Study participants have been involved in this inquiry as
researchers and valued members of a learning team in order to produce
knowledge that may help stimulate social change.
Stemming from my commitment to participatory processes, the research
I am conducting is collaborative in nature, emerging from the students and the
communities I work with. Collaboration and participation in developing criti-
cal learning environments produce pooled resources and shared expertise
leading to integrated and collective activities. Collaboration, action, and reflec-
tion enhance the legitimacy of each participant’s knowledge (Brice Heath &
McLaughlin, 1993) and set the stage for the sources of multilevel data collec-
tion employed in this study. These six sources of data have evolved as a com-
plement to the development of CIRCLE courses and community outreach
activities and support the concept of a pedagogy for affirmation, advocacy, and
action. They include the following: (a) journal entries and self-reflection papers;
(b) focus group interviews with eight undergraduate students; (c) in-depth inter-
views with 10 students; (d) video and photography documentation; (e) oral
history interviews conducted by students and youth with each other; and (f)
research field notes, reflections, and academic papers for courses and confer-
ences over the 4 years of my involvement with and participation in the project.
These latter data provide critical insights into my own theoretical development
in relation to this research and my role as researcher in this study.
Shadduck-Hernandez’s (1997) discussion of the various sources of
qualitative data—some generated as part of the CIRCLE project, others

to be generated specifically for the dissertation—is eloquently congruent
with her assumptions about the nature of this work, its purpose and
audience, and her political stance. Note that she plans to rely on sev-
eral methods: documents in the form of journals, self-reflective writing,
and papers written for courses or conferences (both her own and those
of the student participants); a focus-group interview; in-depth inter-
views; and video and photography. Videotaping and photography are
what we describe as secondary data collection methods.
With many of the primary methods, transcription and translation
challenges must be addressed. Even in his own culture, a white,
middle-class sociology scholar will encounter challenges in transcrib-
ing and translating, for example, in-depth interviews of adolescents’
attitudes toward religion (Smith & Faris, 2002).
Issues With Transcribing and Translating
Especially in the use of interviews, transcribing and translating text
have become increasingly salient issues in the discourse on qualitative
research. Neither is a merely technical task; both entail judgment and inter-
pretation. In some way, when data have been translated and/or tran-
scribed, they are not raw data any more—they are “processed data”
(Wengraf, 2001, p. 7). Only recently has the methodological literature
offered discussions about the issues in transposing the spoken word
(from a tape-recording) into a text (a transcription), or in transposing the
spoken word in one language (from a tape-recording) into another lan-
guage (a translation) and then into a text (a transcription). Unfortunately,
the literature has not problematized the challenges in these apparently
transparent acts until very recently. Moreover, our review of the literature
suggests that only issues with translation are currently being addressed.
Transcribing. If the researcher is fortunate enough to have inter-
view partners who are comfortable with tape-recordings, she leaves the
research encounter with spoken words, dutifully and seemingly unprob-
lematically recorded on tape. Those who have then sat down to tran-
scribe the tapes, however, know well the pitfalls of assuming that the
spoken word closely parallels the written one. We do not speak in
paragraphs, nor do we signal punctuation as we speak. The judgments
involved in placing something as simple as a period or a semicolon are
complex and shape the meaning of the written word and, hence, of the
interview itself. Similarly, the visual cues that we rely on to interpret
another’s meaning are lost when we listen to a tape; the transcriber no
longer has access to those important paralinguistic clues about meaning.
(See Tilley, 2003, for further discussion.)

For example, Rossman (1994) conducted interviews for an evaluation
of a systemic school reform initiative. One interviewee used a discursive
style that could charitably be described as complex and dense. The inter-
viewee would begin one topic, then loop to another midsentence, then on
to another, finally saying, “Where was I?” and returning to the original
topic after a prompt from the interviewer. While fascinating, this style
was extremely difficult to transcribe—sentences were interrupted by the
speaker herself, topics were left unfinished, and overall clarity was diffi-
cult to ascertain. Rossman struggled with this transcription, finally shar-
ing it with the interviewee to be sure that the meaning was accurately
rendered in the transcribed account of her words. In Chase’s (1995) study
of women school superintendents, responses to questions were replete
with long pauses, in which the subject was changed. These gaps were, in
the end, interpreted as indicators of a strong pattern of avoiding talking
about and even denying experiences of sex discrimination—a major find-
ing in her study. What if this researcher had made the mistake of simplis-
tic transcription? But there is a cautionary note here: The meaning of
pauses in conversation is not transparent; the researcher should use cau-
tion, as did Chase, in drawing inferences and offering interpretations of
these linguistic patterns.
Experiences such as this are common. The implication is that the
researcher needs to discuss the problematic nature of transcribing in
the proposal and provide strategies for handling the judgments and
interpretations inherent in such work.
Translating. Clearly, the issues associated with translating from
one language into another are much more complex than transcribing
because they involve more subtle issues of connotation and meaning.
As noted above, the methodological literature has recently grown to
include essays discussing the difficult issues with translating (Esposito,
2001; Temple & Young, 2004). Writing in the context of the need for
more sophistication in cross-language health research with refugee and
immigrant populations, Esposito (2001) notes that translation is “the
transfer of meaning from a source language . . . to a target language”
and that the translator is “actually an interpreter who . . . processes the
vocabulary and grammatical structure of the words while considering
the individual situation and the overall cultural context” (p. 570). Thus
the focus on generating accurate and meaningful data through translation
processes is paramount.
In another article on translating, Temple and Young (2004) address
three primary issues: (a) whether to identify the translation act in the
research report; (b) whether it matters if the researcher is also the trans-
lator; and (c) whether to involve the translator in analysis. These topics

help move the field forward, but Rossman’s experience in her graduate
teaching, working intensively with students whose first language (or
even second or third) is not English, critiques their discussion as naïve.
Addressing each of the issues in turn, she takes the position that none is
problematic. First, she says that there is an ethical imperative to inform
the reader that translation has occurred and to address how this will be
(in the case of a proposal) or has been (in the case of a final research
report) managed. Second, more issues of meaning and interpretation
arise when someone other than the researcher translates spoken or written
words. Third, since translation entails the construction of meaning, she
believes that analysis is happening whether or not it is acknowledged.
So what are the important issues with translating the spoken or
written word? Most important are the processes and procedures that
the researcher/translator has used (or will use) to construct meaning
through multiple transpositions of the spoken or written word from
one language into another. Rossman and Rallis (2003, p. 260) identify
three others:
• If you have translated from one language to another, which
language constitutes the direct quotes?
• Can you use translated words as a direct quote?
• How do you signal that a translation is accurate and captures
the subtle meanings of the original language?
There are no simple strategies or blueprints for addressing
these and other issues associated with translation. What is simple and
clear, however, is that the reader of the proposal must know that the
researcher understands the issues, will take an ethical stance on trans-
lating, and will make clear in the final report just what she has done.
For example, Rossman insists that her students discuss the language
for interviewing (and/or document review) in the proposal, indicating
whether or not the student is fluent in the language. If she is not, what
strategies will she use to ensure accuracy and subtlety in translation?
She also recommends that students include phrases and key words
from the original language from time to time in their final narratives.
Translations or interpretations of those phrases can be put into paren-
theses with the caveat that there is no direct translation of the phrase’s
meaning into English. Including phrases or words in the original lan-
guage (often italicized) also serves as a reminder to the reader that the
interviews were originally conducted in a language other than English.
This subtle reminder helps to decenter the hegemony of an English-
centered world.

For example, the doctoral student who proposed a mixed-methods
study of a complex policy domain in Malawi (MacJessie-Mbewe, 2004)
described how he would use the local language, Chichewa, for his inter-
views. Since he was fluent in this language, this posed no real problem
for his dissertation committee. In his dissertation, he included several
words and phrases that had evocative meaning in Chichewa but did not
translate easily into English. Cohen-Mitchell (2005) studied the literacy
and numeracy practices of market women in Quetzaltenango,
Guatemala, for her dissertation. She was fluent in Spanish but not in
Quiche, the local language of the women in her study. She had to con-
vince her dissertation committee that she would work closely with
Rosa, an educated literacy practitioner fluent in Quiche and Spanish, as
a coresearcher and translator to obtain strong data from the women.
Cohen-Mitchell proposed, moreover, that she would take Quiche
lessons during her fieldwork to improve her limited understanding of
that language. She used both Quiche and Spanish phrases and words in
her dissertation.
Issues of transcribing and translating are subtle and complex; they
are not merely technical tasks. The writer of a qualitative research pro-
posal has an ethical obligation to discuss these issues and how she will
approach them, especially since qualitative research generates words—
the primary symbol system through which meaning is conveyed and
constructed. Not all of the issues can be solved at the proposal stage; in
fact, we are quite skeptical of those who write that they have them all
wrapped up. Instead, the proposal should have a thoughtful discus-
sion of the more generic issues of transcribing and translating, as well
as the ones specific to the research site and participants.
SECONDARY AND SPECIALIZED METHODS
In addition to the primary data-gathering methods outlined above,
the researcher can choose to incorporate several secondary and supple-
mental methods in the design of a study, as appropriate. Each of those
described below is a full and complete method in and of itself and has a
methodological literature explicating its nuances and subtleties. In some
instances, the same terminology is used for data collection methods and
for modes of reporting or presentation. For example, some speak of
“doing case studies” as a way of collecting data, but, more often, an entire
report, even a book, is a case study. Ethnographers talk of “doing an
ethnography” to describe their approach to data collection when, in fact,
an ethnography is a written product—ethno = culture; graphy = writing or

an inscription. Nisa: The Life and Words of a !Kung Woman (Shostak,
1983) is a book that is a life history of one African woman, and the data
collection method is called life history, consisting of long-term partici-
pant observation and in-depth and ethnographic interviewing. Yes,
this is confusing!
The discussions that follow are necessarily simplified and brief,
as was the preceding, and the list is not exhaustive. The methods
discussed below, if used, should always be used with the understand-
ing that observation and interviewing are the primary data collection
methods for discovering context-laden patterns and understandings.
Focus Groups
The method of interviewing participants in focus groups comes
largely from marketing research but has been widely adapted to
include social science and applied research. The groups are generally
composed of 7 to 10 people (although groups range from as small as
4 to as large as 12) who are unfamiliar with one another and have been
selected because they share certain characteristics relevant to the
study’s questions. The interviewer creates a supportive environment,
asking focused questions to encourage discussion and the expression
of differing opinions and points of view. These interviews may be con-
ducted several times with different individuals so that the researcher
can identify trends in the perceptions and opinions expressed, which
are revealed through careful, systematic analysis (Krueger, 1988).
This method assumes that an individual’s attitudes and beliefs do
not form in a vacuum: People often need to listen to others’ opinions and
understandings to form their own. One-to-one interviews may be impov-
erished because the participant had not reflected on the topic and feels
unprepared to respond. Often, the questions in a focus-group setting are
deceptively simple; the trick is to promote the participants’ expression of
their views through the creation of a supportive environment.
The advantages of focus-group interviews are that this method is
socially oriented, studying participants in an atmosphere more natural
than artificial experimental circumstances and more relaxed than a
one-to-one interview. When combined with participant observation,
focus groups are especially useful for gaining access, focusing site
selection and sampling, and even for checking tentative conclu-
sions (Morgan, 1997). The format allows the facilitator the flexibility to
explore unanticipated issues as they arise in the discussion. The results
have high “face validity”: Because the method is readily understood,
the findings appear believable. Furthermore, the cost of focus groups
is relatively low, they provide quick results, and they can increase the

sample size of qualitative studies by permitting more people to be inter-
viewed at one time (Krueger, 1988). In action research and in program
design and evaluation, focus groups are especially useful. They were
useful tools, for example, in data gathering to design a program for
working on the employment issues of persons with HIV/AIDS, based
on their answers to questions about specifics needs ranging from stress
and availability of health care to family, spirituality, and hopes for the
future (O’Neill, Small, & Strachan, 1999).
There are, however, certain disadvantages to this method as well:
First and foremost is the issue of power dynamics in the focus-group set-
ting. Should the researcher choose to use this method she should be
exquisitely aware of power dynamics and be able to facilitate well—
these are crucial skills. In addition, the interviewer often has less control
over a group interview than an individual one. Time can be lost while
dead-end or irrelevant issues are discussed; the data are difficult to ana-
lyze because context is essential to understanding the participants’ com-
ments; the method requires the use of special room arrangements and
highly trained observer moderators; the groups can vary a great deal
and can be hard to assemble; and logistical problems may arise from the
need to manage a conversation while getting good quality data.
Life Histories and Narrative Inquiry
Life histories and narrative inquiry are methods that gather, ana-
lyze, and interpret the stories people tell about their lives. They assume
that people live “storied” lives and that telling and retelling one’s story
helps one understand and create a sense of self. The story is impor-
tant but so is how the story is told (Hatch & Wisniewski, 1995). The
researcher, working closely with the participant, explores a story and
records it. Life histories and narrative analysis are used across the
social science disciplines and are particularly useful for giving the
reader an insider’s view of a culture or era in history (Edgerton &
Langness, 1974).
Life Histories
Life histories seek to “examine and analyze the subjective experi-
ence of individuals and their constructions of the social world” (Jones,
1983, p. 147). They assume a complex interaction between the individ-
ual’s understanding of his or her world and that world itself. They are,
therefore, uniquely suited to depicting and making theoretical sense
of the socialization of a person into a cultural milieu (Dollard, 1935).
Thus, one understands a culture through the history of one person’s

development or life within it, a history told in ways that capture the
person’s feelings, views, and perspectives. The life history is often an
account of how an individual enters a group and becomes socialized
into it. That history includes the learning to meet the normative expec-
tations of that society by gender, social class, or age peers. Life histories
emphasize the experience of the individual—how the person copes
with society rather than how society copes with the stream of individ-
uals (Mandelbaum, 1973).
Life histories can focus on critical or fateful moments. Indecision,
confusion, contradiction, and irony are captured as nuanced processes
in a life (Sparks, 1994). These histories are particularly helpful in defin-
ing socialization and in studying aspects of acculturation and social-
ization in institutions and professions. Their value goes beyond
providing specific information about events and customs of the past—
as a historical account might—by showing how the individual creates
meaning within the culture. Life histories are valuable in studying
cultural changes that have occurred over time, in learning about cul-
tural norms and transgressions of those norms, and in gaining an
inside view of a culture. They also help capture how cultural patterns
evolve and how they are linked to the life of an individual. Often, this
point of view is missing from standard ethnographies (Atkinson, 1998;
Edgerton & Langness, 1974).
The term life history is sometimes used when, in fact, in-depth
interviews are more focused on respondents’ evolution or develop-
ment over time. These parts of larger studies are particularly useful for
identifying patterns in health (e.g., Goldman, Hunt, Allen, Hauser,
Emmons, & Maeda et al., 2003), in the acculturation of immigrants,
and the like. Scholars may also research family histories using parallel
logics and methods (Miller, 1999).
The first strength of life history methodology is that, because
it pictures a substantial portion of a person’s life, the reader can enter
into those experiences. The second is that it provides a fertile source
of testable hypotheses, useful for focusing subsequent studies. The
third strength is that it depicts actions and perspectives across a social
group that may be analyzed for comparative study. Life history as a
methodology emphasizes the value of a person’s story and provides
pieces for a mosaic depicting an era or social group. This kind of
research requires sensitivity, caring, and empathy by the researcher
for the researched (Cole & Knowles, 2001). Life histories are often
used in feminist research as a way of understanding, relatively free of
androcentric bias, how women’s lives and careers evolve (Lawless,
1991).

Jones (1983) offers five criteria for life histories. First, the individual
should be viewed as a member of a culture; the life history “describe[s]
and interpret[s] the actor’s account of his or her development in the
common-sense world.” Second, the method should capture the signifi-
cant role that others play in “transmitting socially defined stocks of
knowledge.” Third, the assumptions of the cultural world under study
should be described and analyzed as they are revealed in rules and codes
for conduct as well as in myths and rituals. Fourth, life histories should
focus on the experience of an individual over time so that the “proces-
sual development of the person” can be captured (pp. 153–154). And
fifth, the cultural world under study should be continuously related to
the individual’s unfolding life story.
The major criticisms of the life history are that it makes gen-
eralizing difficult, offers only limited principles for selecting partici-
pants, and is guided by few accepted concepts of analysis. Once the
researcher acknowledges the possible weaknesses in the method,
however, he can circumvent them. Official records may provide cor-
roborating information or may illuminate aspects of a culture absent
from an individual’s account. The researcher can substantiate mean-
ings presented in a history by interviewing others in a participant’s
life. Before publishing The Professional Thief, for example, Sutherland
and Conwell (1983) submitted the manuscript to four professional
thieves and to two police detectives to assess possible bias and to
ensure that their interpretations resonated with the understandings
of other professional thieves and those who come in contact with
them.
A life history account can add depth and evocative illustration
to any qualitative study. As with any qualitative genre, however, the
abundance of data collected in a life history should be managed and
reduced so that analytic headway can be made. Instead of using
chronological order, the researcher can focus on (a) critical dimensions
or aspects of the person’s life, (b) principal turning points and the life
conditions between them, and (c) the person’s characteristic means of
adaptation (Mandelbaum, 1973).
Narrative Inquiry
Closely related to life history is narrative inquiry, an interdiscipli-
nary method that views lives holistically and draws from traditions
in literary theory, oral history, drama, psychology, folklore, and film
philosophy (Connelly & Clandinin, 1990). The method assumes that
people construct their realities through narrating their stories. The
researcher explores a story told by a participant and records that story.

Narrative analysis can be applied to any spoken or written account—
for example, to an in-depth interview.
Narrative inquiry requires a great deal of openness and trust between
participant and researcher: The inquiry should involve a mutual and sin-
cere collaboration, a caring relationship akin to friendship that is estab-
lished over time for full participation in the storytelling, retelling, and
reliving of personal experiences. It demands intense and active listen-
ing and giving the narrator full voice. Because it is a collaboration,
however, it permits both voices to be heard.
This method is criticized for its focus on the individual rather
than on the social context. Like life histories, however, it seeks to
understand sociological questions about groups, communities, and
contexts through individuals’ lived experiences. Like any method
that relies on participants’ accounts, narrative may suffer from recall-
ing selectively, focusing on subsets of experience, filling in memory
gaps through inference, and reinterpreting the past (Ross & Conway,
1986). Crites (1986) cautions against “the illusion of causality” (p. 168)—
the inference that the narrator’s sequencing of the story uses cause
and effect accurately. Narrative inquiry is also time-consuming and
laborious and requires some specialized training (Viney & Bousefield,
1991). In the past decade, researchers have articulated criteria for
good narrative inquiry (see Connelly & Clandinin, 1990; Jones, 1983;
Riessman, 1993).
As a qualitative research method for the social sciences and
applied fields it is relatively new, but narrative inquiry has a long tra-
dition in the humanities because of its power to elicit voice. Narrative
analysis values the signs, the symbols, and the expression of feelings in
language, validating how the narrator constructs meaning. It has been
particularly useful in developing feminist and critical theory (Eisner,
1988; Grumet, 1988; Riessman, 1993). Narrative inquiry is especially
useful when exploring issues of social change, causality, and social
identity (Elliott, 2005).
Narrative inquiry may rely on journal records, photographs,
letters, autobiographical writing, e-mail messages, and other data.
Typically, field notes are shared with the narrator, and the written
record may be constructed collaboratively. In the conduct of narrative
inquiry, there is open recognition that the researcher is not just pas-
sively recording and reporting the narrator’s reality. Connelly and
Clandinin (1990) assert that researchers need to “be prepared to follow
their nose and, after the fact, reconstruct their narrative of inquiry”
(p. 7). This becomes, in effect, the recounting of methodology.

Historical Analysis
A history is an account of some event or combination of events.
Historical analysis is a method of discovering what has happened using
records and accounts. It is particularly useful in qualitative studies for
establishing a baseline or background prior to participant observation or
interviewing. Sources of historical data are classified as either primary
or secondary. Oral testimony of eyewitnesses, documents, records,
and relics are primary. Reports of persons who relate the accounts of
eyewitnesses and summaries, as in history books and encyclopedias, are
secondary.
The researcher should consider the following sources of historical
data: (a) contemporary records, including instructions, stenographic
records, business and legal papers, and personal notes and memos; (b)
confidential reports, including military records, journals and diaries,
and personal letters; (c) public reports, including newspaper reports
and memoirs or autobiographies; (d) questionnaires; (e) government
documents, including archives and regulations; (f) opinions, including
editorials, speeches, pamphlets, letters to the editor, and public opinion
polls; (g) fiction, songs, and poetry; and (h) folklore.
Historical analysis is particularly useful in obtaining knowledge
of unexamined areas and in reexamining questions for which
answers are not as definite as desired. It allows for systematic and
direct classification of data. Historical research traditions demand
procedures to verify the accuracy of statements about the past, to
establish relationships, and to determine the direction of cause-and-
effect relationships. Many research studies have a historical base or
context, so systematic historical analysis enhances the trustworthi-
ness and credibility of a study.
There is a dialectical tension in this kind of analysis between con-
temporary and historical interpretations of events, even though texts
representing either perspective are influenced by the social contexts in
which they are produced. Historical analysis cannot use direct obser-
vation, and there is no way to test a historical hypothesis. There are
also weaknesses in the classification of historical data. One must
remember that documents may be falsified deliberately or may have
been interpreted incorrectly by the recorder. Words and phrases used
in old records may now have different meanings. The meanings of
artifacts are perceived and interpreted by the investigator. Errors in
recording, as well as frauds, hoaxes, and forgeries, pose problems in
dealing with the past. The researcher should retain a modest skepti-
cism about such data.

Films, Videos, and Photography
Films and photography have a long history in anthropology.
Called visual anthropology or film ethnography, this tradition relies on
visual representations of the daily life of the group under study. Films
are records of natural events and may be used as permanent resources.
The concept and method of the research film have emerged and are
now compatible with a variety of research methods to describe how
people navigate in public places (Ryave & Schenkein, 1974) and how
they use space (Whyte, 1980), to present findings (Jackson, 1978), and
to empower participants (Ziller & Lewis, 1981). The various forms of
photography can be used for data collection and for organizing, inter-
preting, and validating qualitative inquiry (Szto, Furman, & Langer,
2005). As Banks (2001) illustrates, films of marriage ceremonies in dif-
ferent social strata in contemporary India, coupled with historical
photos and documents, raised key questions in his search for cultural
understanding of the interconnections between economics and tradi-
tion in handicrafts, dowries, and trousseaux.
Film has the unique ability to capture visible phenomena seemingly
objectively—yet always from the perspective of the filmmaker, just
as with other forms of observation. The filmmaker, the observer, must
decide what to focus on while recording and then how to interpret the
data in that recording (whether on film or in field notes). Research film
methodology requires the documentation of the time, place, and subject
of the filming, as well as the photographer’s intent and interests. There
is a great wealth of visual information in all natural events: To attempt
a complete record of even a small event would be fruitless.
There are three kinds of sampling in films: opportunity, pro-
grammed, and digressive (Sorenson, 1968). Opportunity sampling doc-
uments unanticipated or poorly understood phenomena as they occur.
Programmed sampling involves filming according to a predetermined
plan—deciding in advance what, where, and when to film. Grounded
in the research proposal’s conceptual framework, programmed sam-
pling stipulates which events are likely to be significant. It is guided by
the research design rather than by intuition, as in opportunity sampling.
Digressive sampling is deliberate searching beyond the obvious to the
novel, to the places and events beyond typical public recognition.
Researchers choose to use ethnographic film for its obvious
strengths. Visual samples enhance the value of any record. Film docu-
ments life crises and ceremonies, transmits cultural events to succes-
sive generations, and documents social conflicts (court proceedings,
public speakers, Senate sessions, and so on). The film researcher is

limited by what the mind can imagine and the camera can record—
significant limitations because they involve ideology and other forms
of cultural bias. But, of course, events can be documented in their
natural setting.
Film is especially valuable for discovery and validation. It docu-
ments nonverbal behavior and communication such as facial expres-
sions, gestures, and emotions. Film preserves activity and change in
its original form. It can be used in the future to take advantage of
new methods of seeing, analyzing, and understanding the process of
change. Film is an aid to the researcher when the nature of what is
sought is known but the elements of it cannot be discovered because of
the limitations of the human eye. It allows for the preservation and
study of data from nonrecurring, disappearing, or rare events.
Interpretation of information can be validated by another researcher or
by participants. The researcher can obtain feedback on the authenticity
of interpretation, and the film can be reshot to be more authentic. Two
excellent examples of ethnographic film are Educating Peter (Home Box
Office Project Knowledge, 1992), the story of the experiences of a boy
with severe cognitive challenges in a regular classroom, and High
School, a depiction of life in a comprehensive high school in the early
1970s (Wiseman, 1969).
Film has certain weaknesses and limitations. There are always fun-
damental questions—What is the nature of truth? Does the film manip-
ulate reality?—and concerns about professional bias and the interests
of the filmmaker. Film is expensive, and most research budgets are
minimal. Production can be problematic. The researcher needs techni-
cal expertise. And filming can be very intrusive, affecting settings and
events. Film cannot be included in a book, journal, or dissertation.
Finally, serious consideration must be given to the ethics of ethno-
graphic filming.
Interaction Analysis
There are times when—since much is already known either
because of much participant observation or good previous research—
very focused data collection techniques can be deployed. At those
times, researchers wanting finely focused data on verbal and nonver-
bal communication can use forms of interaction analysis to quantify
patterns of interaction. An observer uses a predetermined coding
scheme, often called a protocol, to produce a listing of the likely inter-
actions. Then she samples duration at predetermined intervals. For

example, the observer might sample blind-date eye contact for 5
seconds every 5 minutes or teachers’ responses to student questions
in a 30-minute lesson. First used as a method for studying small
groups in organizations in the 1920s, interaction analysis gained
prominence as a method for observing classrooms and for aiding
teacher training (Flanders, 1970; Freiberg, 1981). Now it is being used
in research on couples to develop coding systems that can powerfully
analyze an ongoing stream of dyadic behaviors (Baucom & Kerig,
2004).
One strength of this approach is that systematic, quantified data are
obtained. It is particularly useful for verifying patterns that emerged in
early observations and interviews. Systems for assessing inter-rater
reliability can also be constructed. Large amounts of focused data can
be collected in a variety of settings, making statistical analyses useful.
Clearly, interaction analysis is only as good as the categories
used to focus observations. When they are culturally biased, too reflec-
tive of the researcher’s prejudgments, or not well designed for the set-
ting, these categories are not particularly fruitful. Two well-developed
types of this method—kinesics and proxemics—offer examples of
finely focused analyses.
Kinesics. Learning about society can be enhanced if we study not
only what people say but also what their body movements reveal.
Kinesics is the study of body motion and its communicative messages.
Motion is analyzed systematically so that researchers can see and mea-
sure significant patterns in the communications process.
Birdwhistell (1970) asserts that nonverbal body behaviors function
like significant sounds that combine like words into single or relatively
complex units. Body movements ranging from a single nod of the head
to a series of hand and leg gestures can attach additional meaning to
spoken words. (Remember these gestures when transcribing an inter-
view, as discussed above.) All kinesics research rests on the assumption
that individuals are unaware of being engaged constantly in adjust-
ments to the presence and activities of other persons. People modify
their behavior and react verbally and nonverbally. Their nonverbal
behavior is influenced by culture, gender, age, and other factors asso-
ciated with psychological and social development.
Birdwhistell labels four channels in the communicative process:
vocal, visual, olfactory, and tactile. It is important that the researcher
be aware of these channels because the verbal interaction between
researcher and subject consists of a steady flow of nonverbal clues.
Behind the words are messages both parties are communicating.
Educated by this knowledge of nonverbal clues, the researcher can

monitor subjects’ behaviors, discovering their attitudes and giving
their actions additional meaning. Body language can express uncon-
scious thoughts that may be essential for observers to decode if they
are to analyze situations accurately.
In the interpretation of body language lies one of the weaknesses
of kinesics. Novice body readers who have a “pop-psych” understand-
ing of the science of kinesics may make incorrect, perhaps damaging,
interpretations of behavior. Related closely to this possibility of misin-
terpretation is that body language as an analytic tool can be trivialized.
For example, many studies focus on frequency counts of isolated units
of behavior that convey little meaning by themselves. The fact that a
person blinked 100 times during a 15-minute interview is not signifi-
cant unless the context of the situation is also apparent.
The strengths of kinesic analysis are that it provides a view into
unconscious thoughts and a means for the triangulation of verbal data.
A researcher can be more confident about the accuracy of information
provided by a participant if the speaker’s body language is congruent
with his words. Also, the researcher can monitor her own nonverbal
behavior to clarify messages sent to the subject and to stay in touch
with her own feelings during data collection.
Kinesic analysis is limited because body language is not universal;
researchers must be aware of cultural differences. Many gestures signal
different meanings in different cultures. In some countries, moving the
head up and down signifies no and moving it from side to side means
yes. Body movements must be interpreted in context, and only experts
can make fine-tuned kinesic interpretations. Pupil dilation or move-
ments of tiny jaw or neck muscles should be interpreted cautiously.
Proxemics. This is the study of people’s use of space in relation to
culture. The term was coined by Hall (1966), although he did not per-
form the original work in this area. Many studies have been conducted
on human activities in bars, airports, subways, and other public places
where individuals have to deal with one another in a limited space.
Using proxemics, the researcher focuses on space, from interpersonal
distance to the arrangement of furniture and architecture. Anthropolo-
gists, for example, have used proxemics to determine the territorial
customs of cultures. Proxemics has been useful in the study of the
behavior of students in the classroom and of marital partners under-
going counseling.
There are several advantages to the use of proxemics. It is unob-
trusive, and usually it is difficult for a subject to mislead the observer
deliberately. Because it is concerned with nonverbal behavior, subjects
would have to be skillful to “lie” about their feelings. Proxemics is

useful for studying the way individuals react to the invasion of their
territory. Likewise, proxemics can be used in cross-cultural studies
because people’s use of personal space varies greatly from one culture
to the next. Finally, proxemic analysis is useful for studies in areas such
as the effect of seating arrangements on student behavior or the effect
of crowding on workplace productivity.
The greatest disadvantage of proxemics as a data collection method
is that the researcher must be skilled in the interpretation of the observed
behaviors. If the researcher is observing a conference or a business meet-
ing, the manner in which the subjects take their seats can be of vital
importance, but the data must be interpreted carefully. Exclusive reliance
on proxemics could be misleading because relationships that do not exist
might be suggested. Because proxemics is relatively new as a data collec-
tion method, few instruments to measure space in research are available,
further limiting its diverse use. The use of proxemics is increasing
throughout research arenas, however. It provides a revealing and interest-
ing method of gathering information about individual social behavior.
Unobtrusive Measures
Unobtrusive measures are ways of collecting data that do not
require the cooperation of the subjects and, in fact, may be invisible to
them. Webb, Campbell, Schwartz, and Sechrest (1966) describe these
measures as “nonreactive research” because the researcher is expected
to observe or gather data without interfering in the ongoing flow of
everyday events. Data collected in this manner are categorized as doc-
uments, archival records, and physical evidence. Of these three, docu-
ments and archival records are the most frequently used in qualitative
studies and were discussed earlier.
Physical evidence not produced specifically for the purpose of
research often constitutes data. During the 1960s, the floor tile around
the chick-hatching exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry in
Chicago had to be replaced every 6 weeks. Tile in other parts of the
museum did not require replacement for years. The selective erosion of
the tiles, indexed by the replacement rate, provided a measure of the
relative popularity of exhibits (Webb et al., 1966).
Unobtrusive measures are particularly useful for triangulation. As
a supplement to interviews, nonreactive research provides another per-
spective on a phenomenon, elaborating its complexity. These methods
can be used without arousing subjects’ notice and data collection is rel-
atively easy because it often involves using data already collected by
someone else (e.g., bills, archival records, sales records).

When used in isolation, however, unobtrusive measures may
distort the picture. Erosion and survival may be affected by activities
unknown to the researcher. For example, tiles near the chick-hatching
exhibit may have worn out because it is close to the candy machine, not
because of the exhibit’s popularity. Some researchers consider the use
of unobtrusive methods (e.g., monitoring exchanges on newsgroups or
searching through garbage) to be unethical: They feel that those stud-
ied should be informed of the nature of the research.
When the researcher needs information for measures of frequency or
attendance or when direct observation would be impossible or would
bias the data, however, this method permits her to be quite creative.
Unobtrusive data collection is often aided by hardware, such as audio-
tapes, hidden cameras, one-way mirrors, gauges, and infrared photos.
Clearly, though, ethical issues abound in surreptitious observation.
Questionnaires and Surveys
Researchers administer questionnaires to some samples of a popu-
lation to learn about the distribution of characteristics, attitudes, or
beliefs. In deciding to survey a group of people, researchers make one
critical assumption—that a characteristic or belief can be described or
measured accurately through self-reporting. In using questionnaires,
researchers rely totally on the honesty and accuracy of participants’
responses. Although this limits the usefulness of questionnaires for
delving into tacit beliefs and deeply held values, there are still many
occasions when surveying can be useful.
Questionnaires typically entail several questions that have struc-
tured response categories; some open-ended questions may also be
included. The questions are examined (sometimes quite vigorously)
for bias, sequence, clarity, and face-validity. Questionnaires are usually
tested on small groups to determine their usefulness and, perhaps,
reliability.
In sample surveys, data are collected in a standardized format,
usually from a probability sample of the population. The survey is the
preferred method if the researcher wishes to obtain a small amount of
information from a large number of subjects.
Survey research is the appropriate mode of inquiry for making
inferences about a large group of people based on data drawn from a
relatively small number of individuals in that group. Its basic aim is to
describe and explain statistically the variability of certain features in a
population. The general logic of survey research gives a distinctive style
to the research process; the type of survey instrument is determined

by the information needed. Surveys are conducted in three ways: by
mail, telephone, and personal interview. Any method of data collec-
tion, however, from observation to content analysis, can be and has
been used in survey research.
Most survey studies involve cross-sectional measurements made at
a single point in time or longitudinal measurements taken at several
different times. Other forms of survey research include trend studies
that examine a population by studying separate samples at different
points in time, cohort studies of a bounded population, and panel stud-
ies of a single sample of individuals at several points in time. Analysis
of survey data takes the form of quantitative analysis that relies mainly
on either descriptive or inferential statistics.
The relative advantages and disadvantages of survey research are
weighed according to the following criteria: (a) appropriateness of the
method to the problem studied, (b) accuracy of measurement, (c) gen-
eralizability of the findings, (d) administrative convenience, and (e)
avoidance of ethical or political difficulties in the research process.
Surveys have definite advantages when the goals of research
require obtaining quantitative data on a certain problem or population.
They facilitate research in politically or ethically sensitive areas. They
are used in programs for public welfare or economic development.
Large surveys often focus on sensitive or controversial topics within
the public domain.
The strengths of surveys include their accuracy, generalizability,
and convenience. Accuracy in measurement is enhanced by quantifica-
tion, replicability, and control over observer effects. Results can be gen-
eralized to a larger population within known limits of error. Surveys
are amenable to rapid statistical analysis and are comparatively easy to
administer and manage.
Surveys have weaknesses, however. They are of little value for
examining complex social relationships or intricate patterns of inter-
action. Their strengths can also be weaknesses. Although controlling
accuracy, a survey cannot assure without further evidence that the
sample represents a broader universe. Thus, the method of drawing
the sample and the sample size are critical to the accuracy of the
study and its potential for generalizability. Also, even though surveys
are convenient, they are generally a relatively expensive method of
data collection. Finally, surveys may result in an invasion of privacy
or produce questionable effects in the respondent or the community.
Some research projects relying on these methods may enhance the
position or resources of a particular group, and conflicts may arise
between sponsors and research teams concerning how problems are

defined. This problem is not specific to surveys and questionnaires,
however.
Projective Techniques and Psychological Testing
Some types of interpretive psychological strategies were developed
many years ago by clinical psychologists to obtain personality data.
These strategies have been used fairly extensively in comparative stud-
ies about culture and for analysis of personality dynamics. Based on an
internal, perceptual frame of reference, the techniques assume that one
can get a valid picture of a person by assessing the way the individual
projects his personality onto some standard, ambiguous stimuli.
Standardization and ambiguity are common elements in tests
of this nature, although so-called clinical judgments form the primary
interpretation bases of responses to these stimuli. Results are typically
expressed in the form of a verbal report assessing the subject’s domi-
nant needs and ambitions, tolerance of frustrations, attitudes toward
authority, major internal conflicts, and so on. The reputation and qual-
ifications of the tester sometimes play a role in how the report is
received and how much credibility is attached to the interpretation.
Two of the most well-known and frequently used psychological
strategies of this notion are the Rorschach inkblot test and the Thematic
Apperception Test (TAT). The original idea behind both includes
the assumption that the stimuli are ambiguous so the subject has to be
imaginative and projective in response. The Rorschach test uses pic-
tures (symmetrical inkblots), usually presented in a predetermined
order; the subject reports what each picture resembles or suggests. The
number, quality, and variety of the subject’s responses are compared
with specific personality types and with the responses of other people
to the same stimuli. In the TAT, the subject is asked to tell stories about
a set of picture scenes. Test results are used to assess personality traits
such as aggressiveness, dependence, and sexual conflicts.
Although projective instruments have been the object of consider-
able criticism for many years, they are still commonly employed in
clinical contexts by psychologists. Questions remain as to their validity
and reliability; environmental and cultural factors may also affect
results. Today, concern focuses on the more concrete aspects of person-
ality traits, such as self-esteem and styles of interpersonal behavior,
rather than on the vague generalizations that characterized earlier inter-
pretive schemes.
A number of other psychological tests and measurements have
been developed for use in qualitative and anthropological research.

Examples include the study of (a) the perception of illusions, in which
optical and auditory illusions are examined for differences in perception
related to differences in types of environments; (b) judgments of aes-
thetic qualities, in which pictures of art objects or musical stimuli are
used to elicit opinions concerning aesthetic excellence; (c) psychomotor
skills, in which physical activity measures indicate personality qualities,
such as introversion and extroversion; (d) games people engage in, to
provide significant information about community and social behavior;
and (e) games as a laboratory device, in which a specific game involv-
ing family members is used to determine a relationship between com-
munication patterns and socioeconomic differences. Attitude scales can
be used in qualitative inquiry, as supplementary measures, and for
triangulation (see more on triangulation in Chapter 5). Other qualitative
methods have been devised for studying entire communities, group
living patterns, and the social integration of individuals in different
residential contexts; these are referenced at the end of this chapter.
Dilemma Analysis
Dilemma analysis brings into focus respondents’ reactions to situa-
tions that have no right answers: that is, dilemmas. The approach can
be used as a focused part of interviewing, particularly to get at the
core of the respondent’s processes of thinking, assessing, valuing, and
judging. It has been developed primarily in developmental psychology.
However, it can be adapted wherever the research probes at moral
issues and practical decision-making processes. We describe two
common types.
The first, the hypothetical, researcher-generated dilemma, is the most
common. Many respondents are given a standardized dilemma and
asked about what they would do and what would guide their decision
making. The famous example devised by Kohlberg elicits respondents’
moral reasoning about the so-called Heinz dilemma. Heinz’s wife has
a terminal illness and the only way to obtain a life-saving drug is to
break a Biblical commandment: violate someone’s property, commit a
crime, or steal it. Kohlberg used this method to generate theory on
moral development. Later, Carol Gilligan (1982) critiqued Kohlberg’s
theory and methodology, arguing that the theory was gender-biased
because his samples were college-aged men. She devised data collec-
tion strategies that were more contextualized and more attuned to real
lives, as well as ones which focused on women. As a result, she devel-
oped very different conclusions about moral development. The real-
life, researcher-generated dilemma uses a real crisis—from history,

from typical workplace or family life situations—and asks for respon-
dents’ choices and the thoughts and feelings surrounding those
choices.
The second, the real-life, respondent-generated dilemma, encourages
respondents to describe the most difficult or heart-wrenching choices
they have made, for example, while growing up, at work or in their
families. Thus, the situations are generated in a more naturalistic
fashion. While focused, they are closer to a straightforward interview,
allowing respondents, at least to some extent, to choose what to focus
on. For example, Marshall (1992, 1993, 1996) asked assistant princi-
pals to describe a situation that, in the last two years, had created eth-
ical dilemmas for them in their workplaces. She guided them through
standard questions to probe the parameters affecting the choices they
made. In the interviews, telling the stories, in depth, to a sympathetic,
nonjudgmental ear seemed cathartic. The rich data included stories
of denying services to students because of policy, firing teachers,
turning down promotions to avoid upsetting their family stability,
and so on. While the interviews were wonderfully rich with personal
context, pulling them together in data analysis and reporting was no
easy task.
Dilemma analysis can be fun. Commonly focusing on one respon-
dent at a time, it produces a thematic coherence that does not depend
upon academic theories or hunches of the researcher (Winter, 1982).
It opens doors to innermost thoughts and can be designed to collect
standardized data. Real-life, researcher-generated dilemmas, if well
constructed using insights from previous research, can be very useful,
especially for focusing and standardizing data collection, when that is
appropriate. Gathering data through real-life dilemmas is often enjoy-
able. People like to recount poignant, heroic, angst-provoking situations—
when they are in the past and when they believe they created an
adequate resolution. However, analysis of these data needs to stipulate
clearly that these are recollections and, perhaps, represent the 20/20
vision of hindsight.
Dilemma analysis can be dilemma-laden, too. As in the Heinz
example, people may not take the situation seriously, and the data may
well reflect this. Also, the choice of a dilemma and the interview ques-
tions may be skewed to shape the choices, producing “interesting”
data. In addition, the very personalized data elicited from real-life, but
respondent-generated dilemmas may be difficult to interpret and to
compare with other data. Finally, directing people to recall all the
agonies associated with a dilemma that may still be unresolved can be
problematic ethically.

Using Computer and Internet Technologies
There is no question that the Internet and its associated hardware
(desktop computers, most commonly) have changed the methodolo-
gies of social science research. Searching the Internet for resources
(now called Googling), using software to manage citations and some
aspects of data analysis, interviewing by means of e-mail or in dedi-
cated chat rooms, and using dialogues and interactions online as sites
for study are all now part and parcel of much scholarship in the social
sciences and applied fields. One way to track the changes over the past
decade is to examine the chapters in the Handbook of Qualitative Research
(Denzin & Lincoln, 2005, 2000, 1994) dedicated to some discussion of
the use of computers in qualitative research. Between the second and
third editions, there is a major shift.
The first edition (1994) included a chapter titled “Using computers
in qualitative research” (Richards & Richards) in which the authors
described various software programs designed to assist in qualitative
data management and analysis. The second edition contained a similar
chapter, “Software and qualitative research” (Weitzman, 2000).
Shorthand in this developing field is the acronym QDA, for qualitative
data analysis.
The software for qualitative data analysis raised both hopes
and fears among qualitative researchers. In the second edition of the
Handbook, Weitzman notes that computers can assist the analysis phase
because they facilitate making and writing observational notes, edit-
ing, coding, storing, searching and retrieval, linking data, writing
memos, analyzing content, displaying data, drawing and verifying
conclusion, building theory, mapping graphics, and writing reports.
He goes on to note, however, that “software . . . cannot do the analysis
for you, not in the same sense in which a statistical package like SPRR
or SAS can do, say, multiple regression” (pp. 805–806). Our experience
is that novice qualitative researchers hope that software will do the
hard work of analysis for them, somewhat magically. We caution that
software is only a tool to help with some of the mechanical and man-
agement aspects of analysis.
The third edition of the Handbook (2005) includes no chapter on
QDA. Instead, Markham focuses on what is called Internet ethnography,
illustrating the growing focus on the Internet itself as a site for identity
representation and construction. Scholars from communications and
cultural studies have contributed fascinating studies of the Internet
and its wealth of opportunities to reflect changing social identities,
communities, and cultures (see, e.g., Baym, 2000; Kendall, 2002; Hine,

2001; Miller & Slater, 2000). Their fascination emerges in part from the
postmodern turn that has examined and problematized the embodied
construction of identity. The Internet provides a disembodied site
where social identities (gender, social class, sexual orientation, and so
on) are hidden. Thus emerges the possibility of studying the construc-
tion of identity solely through text. As Markham (2005) notes,
“Although we recognize that reality is socially negotiated through dis-
cursive practice, the dialogic nature of identity and culture is thrown
into high relief in computer-mediated environments” (p. 795). Studies
of online culture include Tune In, Log On (Baym, 2000), The Internet: An
Ethnographic Approach (Miller & Slater, 2000), and Hanging Out at the
Virtual Pub (Kendall, 2002).
Using computers for data collection presents challenges and
questions: Are data collected from an internet discussion board more
or less authentic than data from, for example, interviews or focus
groups? How can you guard the anonymity of sources if you collect
data online? How do you manage the fact that your data come only
from persons who are computer-savvy, comfortable with computers,
and have computer access? Despite these challenges, computer-
mediated data gathering may offer an alternative to face-to-face inter-
viewing and be most appropriate for certain research projects. One
major advantage is that one’s sample can quite literally be a global one.
Computers also provide access to populations uncomfortable with or
unwilling to engage in face-to-face interactions.
COMBINING DATA COLLECTION METHODS
Many qualitative studies combine several data collection methods over
the course of the study, as seen in Shadduck-Hernandez’s (1997) proposal
discussed in Vignette 21 (see page 167). The researcher can assess the
strengths and limitations of each method, then decide if that method will
work with the questions and in the setting for a given study. Tables 4.1
and 4.2 display the strengths and limitations of each method, based on
how it is generally used in qualitative studies. The tables should help
researchers select the best combination of methods: Limitations in one
method can be compensated for by the strengths of a complementary one.
In drafting a proposal, the researcher should consider whether the
method will provide adequate information and be cost-effective and
feasible in terms of the subtleties of the setting and the resources avail-
able for the study. The relative emphasis on participation in many qual-
itative studies, for example, suggests certain methods over others. Lutz

and Iannaccone (1969) provide guidelines for method selection based
on role, as shown in Table 4.3. These choices should be logically linked
to the conceptual framework and research questions, the overall strat-
egy of the study, and early decisions about role.
Vignette 17 describes how a researcher selected data collection
methods in a study about a long-term health care facility.
VIGNETTE 17
Choosing Data Collection Methods
How might one’s view of life be shaped by residence in a long-term health
care facility? A doctoral student in health care management (Kalnins, 1986)
wanted to examine—in depth and in detail—the contexts, processes, and
interactions that shaped patients’ perspectives. She reasoned that a qualita-
tive approach would be most fruitful in picking up everyday actions and
interactions about complex social structures.
From the variety of data collection strategies, she proposed a combina-
tion of direct observation, participant observation, and semistructured inter-
viewing. Her beginning point would be direct observation of residents and
staff in various areas of the facility, “witnessing events which particularly
preoccupied the hosts, or indicated special symbolic importance to them”
(Schatzman & Strauss, 1973, p. 59). This would allow her to get a holistic
view and to gather data that would inform the interview process.
Kalnins’s plan as a participant observer would be to observe the residents
and staff in the natural setting of the long-term health care facility, requiring
her “commitment to adopt the perspective of those studied by sharing in their
day-to-day experiences” (Denzin, 1970, p. 185). In her proposal, Kalnins
anticipated that participant observation and interviewing would run concur-
rently, allowing data from each to be used to substantiate events, explore
emerging hypotheses, and make further decisions about the conduct of the
research. Her role as participant observer would mean that Kalnins would
become immersed in the lives and activities of those she was studying. She
understood the interactive-adaptive nature of participant observation, reflect-
ing the complex relationship between field observation and emerging theory,
and the impact of this relationship on decisions about further data collection.
Her decisions about the data to be collected and methods for collecting those
data would be guided by Wilson’s (1977) list of five relevant types of data
employed to get at meaning structures: (a) the form and content of verbal
interaction between participants, (b) the form and content of their verbal
interaction with researcher, (c) nonverbal behavior, (d) patterns of actions and
nonaction, and (e) traces, archival records, artifacts, and documents (p. 255).

133
Table4.1StrengthsofDataCollectionMethods
POOIFGDRNHAFIAUMQPTDAC
Fostersface-to-faceinteractionswithparticipantsXXXXD
Usefulforuncoveringparticipants’perspectivesXXXDD
DatacollectedinnaturalsettingXXXXDXXxX
Facilitatesimmediatefollow-upforclarificationXXXXDx
Goodfordocumentingmajorevents,crises,conflictsXXXXXXXx
CollectsdataonunconsciousthoughtsandactionsXDDXxXX
UsefulfordescribingcomplexinteractionsXXXXXXXxD
GoodforobtainingdataonnonverbalXXDDDXxXD
behaviorandcommunication
FacilitatesdiscoveryofnuancesincultureXXXXDXXXxX
ProvidesforflexibilityinformulatinghypothesesXXXXDXXXxX
ProvidescontextinformationXXXXXXXD
Facilitatesanalysis,validitychecks,andtriangulationXXXXXXXXXXX
FacilitatescooperationXDDXXXx
DataeasytomanipulateandcategorizeforanalysisXXDX
ObtainslargeamountsofdataquicklyXXXXX
AllowswiderangeoftypesofdataandparticipantsXDDDX
EasyandefficienttoadministerandmanageXXXXXX
EasilyquantifiableandamenabletostatisticalanalysisXXXXX
EasytoestablishgeneralizabilityDDXXX
MaydrawonestablishedinstrumentsXXXXXXX
ExpandsaccesstodistantparticipantsXXX
NOTE:x=strengthexists;D=dependsonuse;PO=participantobservation;O=observation;I=interview;FG=focus-groupinterviewing;
DR=documentreview;N=narrativesandlifehistories;HA=historicalanalysis;F=film;IA=interactionanalysis;UM=unobtrusivemeasures;
Q=questionnairesandsurveys;PT=psychologicaltechniques;DA=dilemmaanalysis;C=internet.

134
Table4.2WeaknessesofDataCollectionMethods
POOIFGDRNHAFIAUMQPTDAC
LeadsresearchertofixateondetailsXXDXXXXXXXX
PossiblemisinterpretationsdueXXXXXXXXXXXXX
toculturaldifferences
RequirestechnicaltrainingXXXX
DependentoncooperationofkeyindividualsXXXX
ReadilyopentoethicaldilemmasXXXXXDXxx
DifficulttoreplicateXXXXXDXX
DatamoreaffectedbyresearchpresenceXXXXDDDDx
ExpensivematerialsandequipmentXX
CancausediscomfortorevenXX
dangertoresearcher
ToodependentonparticipantXXXxx
openness/honesty
TooartisticaninterpretationXXXXXXXX
underminesresearch
Dependenton“goodness”XXDXXXXXXX
ofinitialresearchquestion
Dependentontheresearcher’sXXXXXXXX
interpersonalskills
NOTE:x=weaknessexists;D=dependsonuse;PO=participantobservation;O=observation;I=interview;FG=focus-groupinterviewing;
DR=documentreview;N=narrativesandlifehistories;HA=historicalanalysis;F=film;IA=interactionanalysis;UM=unobtrusivemeasures;
Q=questionnairesandsurveys;PT=psychologicaltechniques;DA=dilemmaanalysis;C=internet.

135
Table4.3DataCollectionMethodsRelatedtoObservationRole
Role
I—ParticipantII—ObserverIII—Observeras
MethodasobserverasparticipantnonparticipantComment
Observationandrecording+++ParticularlyusefultoRoleIinareas
ofdescriptivedataofguardedinteraction
andsentiment
Recordingdirectquotations+++Sameasabove
ofsentiment
Unstructuredinterview++*Iftheresearcherisskillful,
astructureemerges
Structuredinterview−*+Mostusefulinsurveywork
guides(e.g.,census)
Detailedinteractionguides−−*Mostusefulinsmall-groupwork
Interactionfrequencytallies+++Meaninginleadershipstudies
Paper-and-penciltestsVeryhelpfulincertain
Questionnaires−−+circumstancesforcertain
Scales−−+purposes
Achievementorability−−*
WrittenrecordsVeryimportanttoRoleIin
Newspaper++*checkingreliabilityof
Officialminutes++*observeddata
Letters++*
Speeches++*
Radioandtelevisionreports++Sameasabove
SOURCE:LutzandIannaccone(1969,p.113).Reprintedwithpermission.
NOTE:+=likelytobeused;*=mayoccasionallybeused;−=difficultorimpossibletouse.

To generate facts, opinions, and insights (Yin, 1984), Kalnins planned for
open-ended structured interviews (using questionnaires) that would enable
the exploration of many topics but that could focus on cultural nuances, first-
hand encounters, and the perceptions, meanings, and interpretations of oth-
ers. Information would also be gathered from various documents and
archives, lending a historical perspective to the study.
Vignette 17 illustrates how a researcher chose an array of data col-
lection methods, knowing that each method had particular strengths
and that each would help elicit certain desired information. It shows
that data collection strategies and methods cannot be chosen in a vac-
uum. Intensively examining the possible methods, trying them out,
examining their potentials, and fitting them to the research question,
site, and sample are important design considerations. In addition,
researchers must consider their own personal abilities in carrying out
any particular overall approach or method.
GENERAL PRINCIPLES FOR DESIGNING
DATA COLLECTION STRATEGIES
In the proposal, the methods planned for data collection should be
related to the type of information sought. Zelditch’s (1962) chart, repro-
duced in Table 4.4, provides guidelines for three large categories of
methods: enumerating, participant observation, and in-depth inter-
viewing. Each broad category best yields a particular type of infor-
mation. In determining which method to use, the researcher should
carefully examine the questions guiding the study. Many how questions
are really how many questions. For example, interviewing people in a
program would not adequately answer the question of how many
people drop out of the program.
The researcher should determine the most practical, efficient,
feasible, and ethical methods for collecting data as the research pro-
gresses. He should also consider whether he can fashion and manage a
role that works with the chosen data collection strategies. He might
need to consider whether, in seeking approval or funding for the
research, his chosen strategies will be seen as legitimate. He might start
with participant observation as he seeks to identify questions, patterns,
and domains. This strategy might change as the research becomes
more focused and progresses toward more specific questions and

clearer concepts that suggest the use of representative samples. Then
the researcher could develop surveys and enumerate the findings. On
the other hand, the findings might be descriptions, not numbers. If
the research goal is a description of processes, concepts, categories, and
typologies, then sampling and counting are merely tools of analysis,
not necessarily part of the research findings. The proposal should
demonstrate that the researcher is capable of designing and selecting
data collection methods that are appropriate, well-thought-out, and
thorough. Because the research question may change as the research
progresses, the methods may change and the researcher must ensure
this flexibility. Vignette 18 provides an example.
VIGNETTE 18
Design Flexibility1
A graduate student wanted to explore the implementation of a state mandate
for local school councils. Rodriguez first proposed participant observation of
meetings and in-depth interviews with board members. The data collection
plan showed a schedule for observing the meetings, goals for interviewing,
Participant
observation
Usually
inadequate
and
inefficient
Prototype and
best form
Adequate but
inefficient,
except for
unverbalized
norms
Interviewing
informants
Often, but
not always,
adequate; if
adequate,
efficient
Adequate, with
precautions, and
efficient
Most efficient and
hence best form
Enumerations
and samples
Prototype and
best form
Not adequate by
itself; not
efficient
Adequate but
inefficient
Information type
Frequency
distributions
Incidents,
histories
Institutionalized
norms and
statuses
Table 4.4 Information Types and Methods of Obtaining Information
Method of obtaining information
SOURCE: Zelditch (1962, p. 575). Reprinted by permission.

and a time allowance for analysis of data and for follow-up data collection.
But in the process of initial data collection and preliminary analysis, he dis-
covered that teacher resentment of the councils was creating a pattern of
unintended negative consequences. This discovery could have important
implications for policy development. Did Rodriguez have to stay with the
original question and data collection plan? Wouldn’t a design alteration offer
important insights?
Rodriguez reasoned that if he could describe the processes whereby
well-intended policy is thwarted, policymakers could gain insight that might
help them make timely alterations in policy development or implementation.
Given this possible benefit to the study, he could choose to focus subsequent
data collection on the conflicts between teacher needs and the mandate to
school boards that they implement councils. This would require him to turn
to additional literatures on, for example, teacher needs, teacher participation
in decision making, or teacher unions. He might also need to employ addi-
tional data collection methods (such as surveying teacher needs, observing
teacher union meetings, and doing historical research on the reactions of
teacher lobbies to mandates for school councils), or he might need to sam-
ple additional settings or people. As the research question became more
focused, his initial research design and data collection strategy would most
likely undergo some changes.
In the example in Vignette 18, the research proposal probably did
not include a plan for analysis of lobbying efforts or observation of col-
lective bargaining sessions. It would, however, be entirely appropriate—
indeed, recommended—for the researcher to modify the research
proposal if an exciting and significant focus emerges from early data
collection. In fact, the primary strength of the qualitative approach
is this very flexibility, which allows, even encourages, exploration,
discovery, and creativity.
Along with choosing appropriate strategies for data collection, the
researcher must address the complex processes of managing, recording,
and analyzing data. Rather than discrete, sequential events, these pro-
cesses occur dialectically throughout the conduct of a qualitative study:
Analysis occurs as themes are identified, as the deeper structures of the
social setting become clear, and as consequent modifications are made in
the initial design. At the proposal stage, however, the researcher should
present some initial ideas about how the data will be managed and
stored and provide some preliminary discussion of the processes for
analyzing those data. We discuss these issues in the next chapter.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN LEARNERS
Melanie,
I really feel and appreciate your questions about the many selves
that are infused within our research. I’m a former writing instruc-
tor so I have a tendency to believe in writing through these types
of difficulties. I wonder what would happen if you did a bit of
writing on the same topic from your different perspectives: your
self as researcher, former instructor, and friend. Would they each
look differently at the same topic? Where would they overlap?
What I’m getting at is if you were to consciously take on the per-
sona of one of your selves and then took on an issue from three
perspectives you might get some wonderful insights into how
your unique position creates an interpretation. Does that make
any sense? My guess is that you’ll find more points of overlap
than not. It might, however, allow you to examine and honestly
address your role in your research.
You’ve no doubt noted the number of different approaches
in Chapter 4 of Catherine and Gretchen’s book—it’s a bit over-
whelming to say the least! Sometimes it’s a bit hard to not get
caught up in the specifics of one particular approach, to not feel
as though there were only one right way to complete an ethno-
graphic interview or narrative analysis. I have a tendency to read
up on different approaches and run the risk of losing sight of
what I bring to the project—that there is perhaps a bit of a dialec-
tical relationship between what I bring to the project and the
effect the project has on me.
While I agree that, ultimately, our research might not be
about us, I can’t deny that it does, in no small way, reflect us
and our experiences. We might say that our research is, in a very
real sense, autobiographical. No doubt you selected your area of
research because in some way you connect with it. Imagine work-
ing so hard on something that you were distinctly separate from
and neutral toward!
But there is something so very disconcerting or indulgent
about ongoing navel-gazing. Like you, I hedge at focusing too
much on myself (or, my self). There are the voices and selves of
the students you work with and study. Hmmm . . . I suppose
this is where we look to our mentors to read our work and say,

“Hey, this is not all about you” or ask, “Where do you fall in all
of this?” I suppose we can also turn to other graduate students!
I get a lot out of our conversations; it’s nice to have someone to
chat with about these issues and writing it down in an e-mail
seems to help.
Hope all is well.
Aaron
Hi Aaron,
You make some good points, especially that our research does,
in some way, revolve around us; otherwise, it wouldn’t be our
research. Thanks for the suggestions, too; I like the idea of writ-
ing from my different selves. (I’m a former English teacher—
bring on the pen!) I think it’s quite easy to get stuck at
approaching our research in one specific way; remembering the
flexibility in technique and presentation really opens up our
options.
I really like thinking through these topics, too. Working
through the tangles with a fellow grad student gives one the
license to be ignorant! Even though we know so much about so
many different things, we’re still making sense in personal, prac-
tical ways. Conversations among grad students are more of a
meaning-making experience, working together to create an
understanding that applies to our personal situations. I get a lot out
of seeing other grad students tackle different techniques, too. Afew
of my friends here are dedicated to life history and film ethnog-
raphy. I’m more of an in-depth interview, computer-interaction
type of researcher. Even if I don’t see myself taking on those
specific types of techniques (yet!), I learn from seeing their use of
different approaches. We might gain info like this faster by asking
a professor or reading an article, but we don’t absorb it or apply
it the same way.
So, what else is on your mind?
Melanie

NOTE
1. This vignette is fictitious.
FURTHER READING
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Survey Methods
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Life Histories and Narrative Inquiry
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Computers and E-data
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