Abstract
Historical accounts of research conducted in American Indian (AI) communities have shown that research activities have not always been in the best interest of tribes. In some instances, research conducted with tribes has been harmful and resulted in unnecessary trauma and distress. In response to past wrongdoings, many researchers now seek to engage tribal communities in research that is collaborative, respectful, and reciprocal. Community-based participatory research (CBPR) is one such “epistemological orientation” that has the potential to address the “oppressive, exploitive legacy of research done on Indigenous people.” This article details the author’s experience of engaging in CBPR during their dissertation study of the significance of water and its relationship to AI health and well-being. The author reflects on their firsthand account of developing and implementing the study in partnership with a local tribe. Particular attention is given to the processes of CBPR through an illustrative case example that took place on an AI reservation located in the Midwestern United States. The case example is informed by “counter storytelling” and is critically reviewed using the principle tenants of CBPR. The article concludes with implications for doctoral education and research with AI communities.
Keywords
The catalyst for this article was my dissertation research, in which I engaged in a community-based participatory research (CBPR) project with an American Indian (AI) 1 tribe located in the Midwestern United States. Using a critical framework, I reflect on my firsthand experience of developing and implementing a CBPR study in partnership with the tribe and their appointed leadership. As the CBPR study developed, my colleagues often asked how I had successfully engaged the tribe in research, given the confines of doctoral education and the complexity of community engagement. This article aims to answer that question by detailing the key experiences that facilitated my doctoral studies and the CBPR study. The intent of this article is not to provide a “one-size fits all” for engaging in CBPR but to share the experiences of one Indigenous 2 researcher navigating the challenges and successes of Indigenous CBPR within academia. In particular, I use storytelling, or “counter storytelling,” to name my own reality and narrate my experiences of navigating academia and CBPR as a female scholar of color. I share my academic challenges and successes upfront, as they are part of my story and represent the context in which I lived while completing the CBPR study detailed in this article.
I begin my story by situating the study within the academic parameters of my doctoral education and my decision to engage in CBPR. Next, I describe the CBPR processes that transpired during my dissertation research including my experience in navigating academia to develop a CBPR partnership with a tribal community. I then discuss the implications of my experience for doctoral education and future research with AI communities.
Background
When I first entered my PhD program, I had little inkling that my doctoral education would be one of the most difficult experiences of my life. However, I soon learned that doctoral degrees would not be such a prestigious undertaking if they were not without struggle followed by the (eventual) triumph of completion. Gay (2004) states that graduate students of color experience three forms of marginalization: physical, cultural, and intellectual isolation; benign neglect (from professors and advisors); and problematic popularity (i.e., being the “only one”). My graduate education included Gay’s (2004) description of marginalization, as well as the typical doctoral socialization process that can leave students feeling frustrated, and doubting their abilities (Austin, 2002; Gay, 2004; Gildersleeve, Croom, & Vasquez, 2011; Golde, 1998; Rosser, 2003). Similar to other graduate students, I was stricken with “imposter syndrome” on more than one occasion. I was also unprepared for the microaggressions I experienced in my doctoral studies (see Smith, Yosso, & Solórzano, 2006). However, the most disconcerting part of my doctoral journey prompted other types of personal turmoil that I had not expected upon returning to school.
During the year following the completion of my doctoral coursework, I found myself experiencing an existential crisis. I had taken graduate courses on theory, research, and practice. I had learned to conduct literature reviews, develop research questions, and detail methodologies. However, what I had not been taught was how to apply everything I had learned to work with communities that reflected where I came from. Kovach (2010) states that to feel conflicted as an Indigenous graduate researcher is likely a good indicator that one has not lost their sense of self in academia. While I found this encouraging, serving multiple and often diverging cultural authorities (i.e., academic, Indigenous) created a tremendous amount of stress in my life. I nearly dropped out of my doctoral program due to the incompatibilities I found between academia and myself.
Fortunately, I eventually found supportive professors, with one so matter-of-factly stating, “Academia needs you more than you need it.” Somehow, these words lifted a burden I did not realize I had been carrying—I did not need to comprise who I was or where I came from for the sake of the academy, because I could always return “home” and find my place. I held my professor’s words close and made a vow that I would finish my PhD, but I would do so on my own terms and in a way that honored my own values, beliefs, and philosophies as an Indigenous person. This meant I needed to move away from the traditional social work teachings in my coursework to explore literature, methodologies, and epistemologies untested by many of the non-Indigenous faculty I encountered. It is within this space that I found methodologies and racial and ethnic narratives that spoke to the realities of my existence—and it felt like home.
Fast-forwarding to the dissertation stage of my doctoral program, I decided to focus my energy on developing a CBPR project with a local tribal community using photovoice methodology. Having decided to engage in CBPR and use photovoice, I was thankful to be excited about research again. Unfortunately, my elation was short lived as some faculty I encountered were less than thrilled about my new found research aspirations. I was told that CBPR would be too time-consuming and it would take “10 years to complete my dissertation.” These comments were followed by questions of the validity of photovoice and concerns about my ability to thoroughly understand research methodologies. I listened to the words of theses faculty, but by this time, I had already formed a vision for the body of work I would eventually create when I completed my PhD. So, contrary to popular opinion at the time, I moved forward with developing an Indigenous CBPR project for my dissertation research. With this decision, I also made efforts to insulate myself with faculty who saw value in my ambitions. I formed a critical, yet supportive interdisciplinary dissertation committee that assisted me in shaping research that was important to me and the communities I serve. With the support of my dissertation committee, I successfully completed my PhD program in 2016 (which took much less than 10 years).
Research in Indian Country
As an Indigenous person, I have always had an awareness that research conducted in AI communities has not always been in the best interest of tribes. Beyond my personal knowledge, empirical studies have shown that research conducted with tribes has been harmful and resulted in unnecessary trauma and distress far too often (see Foulks, 1989; Hodge, 2012; Mello & Wolf, 2010). In response to past wrongdoings, many researchers now seek to engage tribal communities in research partnerships that foster reciprocity and respect and use community-based approaches. For Indigenous researchers, recognition of the settler colonialism nature of research has led to decolonizing research methods that honor Indigenous worldviews and knowledge and position Indigenous epistemologies and research practices as a priority (Smith, 2012; Stanton, 2014; Walters et al., 2009). Walters and colleagues (2009) state: Decolonizing research practices promotes the ability of indigenous peoples and researchers to theorize their own lives; reconnect with past and future generations; acknowledge and prioritize indigenous ways of knowing and healing; respect and prioritize the community’s role in defining problems, resiliencies, and strategies; and cultivate and build indigenous capacity to engage in both indigenous as well as Western research methodologies. (p. 153)
CBPR
CBPR has gained popularity in recent years and offers collaborative strategies for researchers to effectively partner with Indigenous groups and other historically marginalized populations (Holkup, Tripp-Reimer, Salois, & Weinert, 2004; LaVeaux & Christopher, 2009; Petrucka, Bassendowski, Bickford, & Goodfeather, 2012; Rasmus, 2014; Tobias, Richmond, & Luginaah, 2013; Wallerstein & Duran, 2006). CBPR is a philosophical and methodological approach to research that has been well articulated in the literature in recent years (see Israel, Eng, Schulz, & Parker, 2005; Israel, Schulz, Parker, & Becker, 1998; Wallerstein & Duran, 2006). Wallerstein and Duran (2006, p. 312) state that “CBPR is an orientation to research that focuses on relationships between academic and community partners with principles of co-learning, mutual benefit, and long-term commitment and incorporates community theories, participation, and practices into the research efforts.” From a CBPR perspective, researchers should be willing to share their power to allow for community oversight of the research. This includes valuing the community as the expert of their experience and the authority of the research. This is contradictory to traditional research designs that position the researcher as the ultimate authority and gives researchers power and control over most decisions within a study (Israel et al., 1998, 2005).
CBPR should be collaborative, participatory, empowering, and have a fundamental goal of stimulating social change to advance social justice (Holkup et al., 2004; Minkler, 2004; Petrucka et al., 2012; Walters et al., 2009).
In CBPR, research should happen in the community and for the benefit of the community, which is especially important when partnering with AI tribes. Universally, CBPR includes a core set of principles that (1) recognize the community as a unit of identity, (2) build on the strengths and resources of the community, (3) facilitate collaborative partnerships in all phases of the research, (4) integrate knowledge and action for the mutual benefit of all partners, (5) promote colearning and empowering processes that address social inequities, (6) involve cyclical and iterative processes, (7) address health from both positive and ecological perspectives, (8) disseminate findings and knowledge gained to all partners, and (9) balance research with action (Israel et al., 1998, 2005; Wallerstein & Duran, 2006). Within an Indigenous research context, scholars have added to the original CBPR principles to include (1) acknowledge historical experiences with research including overcoming negative views of research, (2) recognize and respect tribal sovereignty, (3) differentiate between tribal and community membership, (4) understand tribal diversity and its implications, (5) plan for extended time lines, (6) recognize community gatekeepers, (7) prepare for leadership turnover, (8) interpret data within the cultural context, and (9) utilize Indigenous ways of knowing (LaVeaux & Christopher, 2009; Petrucka et al., 2012). Although these additional principles add Indigenous specificity to CBPR, they alone will not necessarily ensure better research. However, Indigenous CBPR should regularly include three basic elements: (1) attention to relationship building in the community, (2) tribal consultation including community identified research area of need, and (3) identification of tribal expertise to provide leadership and guidance for all aspects of the research process.
While there is a growing number of conceptual models of CBPR (Israel et al., 2005; Minkler & Wallerstein, 2008), there are few articles that have detailed the accounts of researchers, as they embark on CBPR partnerships with AI tribes from inception, development, implementation, and beyond. Much of the Indigenous CBPR literature has focused on the challenges and tensions of CBPR (Ritchie et al., 2013; Strickland, 2006; Walters et al., 2009) including building and maintaining trust with communities (Blacksher et al., 2016; Christopher, Watts, McCormick, & Young, 2008; Hardy et al., 2016), tribal approval processes (Lewis & Boyd, 2011), and assessing academic–tribe CBPR partnerships (Mohammed, Walters, LaMarr, Evans-Campbell, & Fryberg, 2012; Stedman-Smith, McGovern, Peden-McAlpine, Kingery, & Draeger, 2012; Thomas, Rosa, Forcehimes, & Donovan, 2011). Less common among the literature are candid reflections about CBPR from researchers as they navigate complex community dynamics coupled with academic expectations to engage in community research (Castleden, Garvin, & Huu-ay-aht First Nation, 2008; Koster, Baccar, & Lemelin, 2012; Rasmus, 2014; Stanton, 2014). Documenting and reviewing the processes of CBPR and its outcomes are critical to understanding and increasing the probability of successful research partnerships with tribes and other historically marginalized communities. Further, critical reflection by researchers is imperative, as the research we conduct can inform policy that can then inform practice (i.e., programs), which may ultimately affect the tribal people we serve.
Case Study: Engaging in CBPR Within an Indigenous Context
My dissertation research aimed to explore the significance of water and its relationship to the health and well-being of AI people. The study encouraged members of a local tribal community to identify and record their community’s strengths and concerns about water-related issues in their community and how these issues related to their health. By doing so, the study aimed to support the tribe in telling their story of how environmental changes in water influence their interactions with water and the potential implications it has for the health and well-being of their tribe. The tribe represented in the study is federally recognized and has approximately 1,600 enrolled tribal members. Less than half of all tribal members live on the tribe’s reservation that is located in the Midwestern United States. I chose to approach this particular tribe for a CBPR partnership based on their decades long struggle to address water insecurity on their reservation. The tribe’s water concerns were public knowledge that I had learned about through local media. The findings of my dissertation research detail how water is fundamental to the lives of tribal members and expose the scope of water-related health hazards in their community (Mitchell, 2016).
Method
The study used a CBPR method known as photovoice. Photovoice is informed by Freire’s (1970) theory of critical consciousness, feminist perspectives, and a participatory approach to documentary photography. Photovoice is an action-oriented, participatory method that strives to create community change by documenting community strengths and concerns and disseminating findings to the community and the broader, more powerful public who pass laws and make policy (Wang, Burris, & Ping 1996; Wang & Redwood-Jones, 2001). In line with CBPR principles, the participant-generated photographs and stories from the study aimed to support the tribe in sharing their perspectives about the relationship between water and health in their community.
Protection of Human Subjects
The CBPR methodology employed in the study required thoughtful planning concerning the parallel involvement of both university-based research processes and community-based participation from the tribe. First, since the tribe did not have a research review board in place, I requested that they consider establishing a written agreement with me for both of our protections. Initially, tribal leadership decided that a memoranda of understanding (MOU) would suffice. In partnership with a tribally appointed representative, I drafted an MOU and forwarded it to a designated tribal representative for further review. However, while the MOU was under review, tribal elections took place, tribal leadership changed, and the MOU was never signed. With the urging of my dissertation advisors, I broached the issue of an MOU more than once with new tribal leadership; however, the tribal representative assigned to the CBPR project had a relational take on our partnership and did not deem an MOU necessary at the time.
I acquired institutional ethical approval from my university prior to conducting any research activities with the tribe. The Human Subjects Committee (HSC) application I completed was a standard form that included statements regarding confidentially and informed consent. Remarkably, the HSC did not require that I submit a letter of support or written agreement with the tribe. At the time, this omission expedited approval of the research process; yet in retrospect, it is concerning that as a graduate researcher, I was cleared to conduct research with a tribe without a formal research agreement in place.
Recruitment
After spending nearly a year and a half in the community developing relationships, consulting Tribal Council, and learning about the community, I finally began recruitment for my dissertation research. I created a recruitment flyer that might seem nontraditional to some researchers. The flyer included a brief paragraph that introduced me and included my tribal affiliation, my university, where I grew up, and my interest in conducting research on the reservation. I also included a photograph of myself on the flyer. Later, when I was recruiting participants in-person, many remarked that they had seen me before and recalled a flyer posted somewhere on a bulletin board in the community. I was often (good humoredly) referred to as the “photo girl” since I was recruiting Tribal members to take photographs for the study. Although a small effort, I believe the photograph and introductory paragraph on the flyer helped to bring an additional layer of familiarity to tribal members, as we discussed their potential participation in the study. Because this research was conducted in a small reservation community, I informed participants that it might not be possible to keep their participation completely anonymous, particularly if they were seen speaking with me. I also informed participants that their participation in the study was voluntary and that they had the right to withdrawal from the study anytime.
CBPR Process Development
Reflexivity and Positionality
Engaging in culturally appropriate CBPR takes time and a commitment from both researcher(s) and the community. However, it is the responsibility of the researcher(s) to first honestly ask themselves why they are interested in approaching an AI community as a potential research partner? There may be many reasons that a researcher choses a particular topic or community to work with. However, owning personal motivations and intentions before approaching a potential community partner creates a stronger foundation to develop an honest transparent research partnership. Reflexivity and critical reflection are key research practices that highlight the ways that power and privilege manifests in the research process (Daley, 2010; Muhammad et al., 2014). Additionally, reflexivity and critical reflection are positioned in the social work literature as critical skills for anti-oppressive social work practice (Daley, 2010; Halton, Murphy, & Dempsey, 2007; Heron, 2005; Sakamoto & Pitner, 2005). Understanding one’s (i.e., the researcher) social position, or positionality, is key to initiating an honest, thoughtful research relationship that may help the researcher avoid the pitfalls of exploitative research practices. Positionality includes relevant social positions the researcher holds that could influence their work. These social positions include one’s gender, age, race/ethnicity, ability, personal experiences, sexual orientation, and political and professional values and beliefs (Berger, 2015; Bradbury-Jones, 2007; Muhammad et al., 2014; Padgett, 2008). As researchers, we must recognize our positionality to attend to the power and privilege differentials that exist between researcher(s) and communities (Muhammad et al., 2014).
My journey of reflexivity began with a critical reflection of my own positionality and personal motivations for wanting to approach a tribe I was not affiliated with. It also included a critical reflection of what I considered cultural humility, and how I would work toward ensuring the research I engaged in was done in a good way, or as Kovach (2010) states with ethics and reciprocity. Although I am not a member of the tribe I approached for my dissertation study, I do identify as a person of AI ancestry. In particular, I identity as a woman of mixed-Indigenous ancestry who grew up away from her tribal homelands. Because of my Indigenous heritage, I am particularly invested in the health and well-being of all AI people. I also grew up in close proximity to the tribe mentioned in this article, and I have an affinity for their struggle to achieve water security on their reservation. Additionally, as a social worker, I am committed to the pursuit of social justice and improving the lives of historically underrepresented communities and marginalized population.
My self-identification as AI, as well as my cultural style, and perhaps even my physical appearance have given me access to tribal communities in which I do not hold membership. Although I have been given opportunities to engage with AI communities, perhaps more freely than a non-Indian person would be able to, it should be noted that for all purposes related to the study, I was still considered an “outsider” (see Minkler, 2004; Muhammad et al., 2014). My familiarity with the tribe and their customs was limited prior to our CBPR partnership. However, I do have the benefit of having an “insider” (see Minkler, 2004) perspective as it pertains to Pan-Indian culture.
Prior to Community Entry
Prior to my entry into the tribal community, I realized I needed to learn more about the tribe’s historical experiences with research (LaVeaux & Christopher, 2009). This included consideration of any potential historical traumas related to the topic of study. Before contacting the tribe, I focused on learning more about general communication norms and patterns in the community, as well as increasing my understanding of the tribe’s organization and governance. Part of this learning included reviewing tribally sanctioned media that was available to the public; this included the tribe’s website and historical documents including newspaper articles highlighting interviews with Tribal members and legal documents (i.e., treaties, court cases). I also reviewed previous research that has been published about the tribe. My intention was not to become an expert on these topics but to have a general working knowledge of tribal history and customs before approaching the tribe. Critical to my learning was an awareness that once I was in the community, I would be receptive to new information about the tribe from tribal members. Prior to contacting tribal leaders, I consulted two AI colleagues who had worked or lived on the tribe’s reservation and were well acquainted with current members of the Tribal Council. I connected with these contacts through my social and professional networks, which can be key to facilitating initial entry into tribal communities. Once I felt I had a basic understanding of the tribe’s history, community dynamics, and leadership style, I moved forward in making my first contact with the tribe. In doing so, I followed tribal protocol by respecting and acknowledging tribal sovereignty, which determined who I should contact first. As is customary in many AI communities, my first point of contact to propose a research partnership with the tribe was through their official leadership, in this case Tribal Council. The Tribal Council, whom at the time of the study, served 2-year terms with either three or four members up for reelection each year. I made my first contact with Tribal Council in early April 2014 through a letter that I mailed through the United States Postal Service. I drafted and mailed my letter based on the recommendations of my colleagues aforementioned. A representative from Tribal Council responded to my letter of inquiry within 1 week of its mailing, and a meeting was scheduled with members of Tribal Council during mid-April 2014. Since my initial contact with Tribal Council, I have often been asked how I received such a quick response to my request for a meeting; I believe that it was a combination of two things. First, I had prepared for my initial contact with the tribe by acquiring a basic understanding of the priority health issues in the community. Had I not proposed a research topic that was of interest or value to the tribe, I do not believe I would have got the quick response I did. Therefore, keeping research topics relevant and beneficial to the community is key to developing and maintaining a CBPR relationship. Second, I utilized my social networks to learn about recent happenings on the reservation and gain a better understanding of Tribal leadership styles and preferred modes of communication. Had I used my own preferred mode of communication (i.e., e-mail), I might not have gotten the same response from tribal leadership.
Community Entry
As with any developing researcher, I was anxious for my first meeting with Tribal Council. As I was preparing for the meeting, I considered how I might present my research proposal and myself to the Council. In retrospect, I recognize that my early thoughts about the meeting were layers deep in the settler colonialism mentality that perpetuated the predominantly white intuitions I had attended. Thankfully, I listened to my personal intuition before the meeting and recognized that I was to be a guest in the community, and Tribal Council already knew my interest in meeting with them (i.e., as outlined in my letter). With this self-awareness, I believe I found some of the key features that helped me have a successful introduction into the community. First, I listened more than I spoke, because I was a guest. The members of Tribal Council already knew my reasons for wanting to meet with them and I had to trust that if they had questions, then they would ask. When they did ask questions, I was sure to be thoughtful in my replies by not rushing communication or overwhelming them with my own questions. I also entered the meeting knowing that by the end of our time together, I might not have a decision about whether they found the research proposal agreeable, and I was fine with that. Most of my first meeting with Council was spent engaging in honest, open communication in which the Tribal Chairperson told me about the tribe’s history and current issues they were facing. Part of the meeting also included answering questions about myself, which meant that I needed to be willing to share information about my life beyond my academic persona. As an early career social worker, I had been taught to be cautious of how much of my personal life I shared with others. My social worker instincts wanted to take hold, however, in acknowledging the power differentials in CBPR relationships, I knew must be willing to share with the community as they were sharing with me. Additionally, within many tribal communities, locating oneself at the beginning of a meeting or gathering is a cultural practice that helps to identify who you are, where you come from, and your connections to the larger community or tribe (Koster et al., 2012). This meant that I was asked, “where are you from?,” “who is your family?,” and other questions that helped identify who my people were and where my relatives came from. These questions were not about my credentials, degrees, or research experience but rather an inquiry into who I was. If the Council had not questioned my background then that would (and should) have caused me alarm as a community-based researcher.
During the meeting, I was able to talk about the two potential research projects I had written about in my letter; the first related to barriers and challenges of diabetes self-management and the second focused on perceptions of water and health on the reservation. Through prior networking opportunities with the tribe and their associates, I knew that both diabetes and water were among the tribe’s top five health concerns. After a brief conversation about the proposed research, Tribal Council chose to move forward with the project that explored the relationship between water and health on the reservation. Their decision during our initial meeting steered the direction of the research topic and ultimately my dissertation.
Developing Relationships
Tribal leadership
Since my first meeting with Tribal Council, there has been considerable turnover in Tribal leadership. As new leadership emerged, I continued to work closely with Tribal Council by providing them with updates and seeking their input throughout the study. During the time of the study, the vice chairperson served as the “guardian of research.” This meant that they were my primary contact in the community and that any updates, changes, or concerns were first screened through them. I also made efforts to meet with the vice chairperson every time I visited the reservation. This meant that I often spent 1–2 hr visiting with the vice chairperson, which ended up being a large investment of time for both of us. Our meetings consisted of discussions about the progress of the study, but we also talked a lot about the community and life in general. This time spent with the tribe's vice chairperson is perhaps one of my fondest memories of the CBPR project. I believe my time spent with them assisted me in developing a greater understanding of the community and its history.
In all, my interactions with Tribal Council were instrumental in the development and implementation of the study and provided me with several opportunities to be further involved with the community. Members of Tribal Council offered cultural advisement during the study, which included personal communication and recommendation of what print resources including tribally sanctioned books that I should read to learn more about the tribe. Additionally, the members of Tribal Council were given the opportunity to review my written work to ensure that it accurately portrayed their community. This included copies of my final dissertation from which I drew much of the inspiration for this article (Mitchell, 2016).
Community
A key aspect of any CBPR project is community engagement. Community engagement should extend beyond the reach of community leaders or key decision makers to include the general membership that maybe more representative of the broader community. During this study, community engagement took several forms. Once I had received permission from Tribal Council to be in the community and conduct the study, I began attending several local events that included annual gatherings (i.e., powwows, cultural events) and reoccurring activities (i.e., lunches) in the community. I spent nearly a year and a half on the reservation before I actively recruited participants for the study or collected data. During this time, I made almost weekly visits to the reservation, during which I would visit local places with the goal of introducing myself to as many community members as possible. I had weekly lunches at the tribal senior center (with permission), where I became a regular visitor who would purchase lunch and eat with various tribal members, particularly seniors. I made many friends and acquaintances, both in the patrons and staff during these lunches. These community contacts were later instrumental in the recruitment process.
In many small communities, researcher visibility and approachability are key to study recruitment and retention. During the study, my reputation proceeded me with many tribal members knowing who I was before we had officially met because a friend or relative had mentioned my work in the community. I volunteered at community events such as a fun run and the annual powwow, and I hosted a community food drive for the senior center with support from my university department. Given the tribe’s rural location, they live in a food desert where fresh, healthy, and affordable food choices are limited. The food drive focused on fresh fruits and vegetables and other foods that the seniors identified. It is important to note that none of these activities happened at my sole discretion, but rather community invitations or feedback was given/sought to help ensure I was not overstepping my place as an outsider in the community or as a researcher. Additionally, my willingness to volunteer in the community was not conditional to the CBPR partnership but rather a way for me to learn more about the tribe, meet new tribal members, and have fun while participating in community events.
Other community stakeholders
My community engagement activities also included opportunities where I could give back to the community and further develop rapport and extend my personal knowledge and understanding of the community
Balancing Research With Action
True to the photovoice method used in this study, the primary form of research dissemination was a community photo exhibition. Study participants, as well as members of Tribal Council, recommended that the community photo exhibition coincide with another event in the community to encourage greater attendance. It was agreed that the community photo exhibition would take place during the week of the tribe’s annual powwow. Both of these events were open to the community and public; however, the photo exhibition was only advertised through local venues on the reservation. This included flyers posted at key sites in the community and through word of mouth. One of the study’s participants designed the photo exhibition flyer and multiple participants helped post flyers throughout the reservation. Participants, as well as Tribal Council, were asked what key stakeholders, or other people, should be formally invited to the exhibition. Based on their recommendations, I mailed invitations to identified stakeholders. During the photo exhibition, community members had an opportunity to view the photographs and related narratives from the study. Attendees were encouraged to provide feedback on the photo exhibition through a brief survey. I ensured completion of the survey was anonymous and voluntary, as attendees completed the surveys at will and then placed them in a secure collection box. The intention of the survey was to engage the wider tribal community in providing feedback on the appropriateness of the photo exhibition before further dissemination of the study’s findings to the public. The community photo exhibition was successful in engaging the broader tribal community and received ample approval from many tribal members.
Based on survey feedback, Tribal Council and I agreed to develop a public exhibition to disseminate the findings of the study to the general public and other key stakeholders in the neighboring State Capitol. The public photo exhibition took place 1 year after the community photo exhibition. The public exhibition was held at the Statehouse and had legislative sponsorship under the direction of Tribal Council. The Tribal Council’s vice chairperson provided a poignant speech at the opening of the exhibition. Interestingly, the vice chairperson had asked me what I wanted them to say before the speech. Adhering to CBPR values by respecting the community’s expertise, I responded to vice chairperson’s question by stating that they knew the issue and community better than me; therefore, they knew what was best to say. By responding in this way, I released or shared my “power” as the research expert and trusted the community.
The exhibition was well attended by the public, including several state employees and other professionals working in and around the statehouse. The exhibition was attended by local media, and a news story about the exhibition was broadcast during the 5 o’clock news hour, which highlighted an interview with the vice chairperson. The broadcast was also accompanied by an online press release.
Maintaining Relationships
As a CBPR study nears its end, it is important to consider what comes next and how best to maintain the relationships that were developed during the study. CBPR partnerships provide an opportunity for research to build upon the initial research relationship. As one CBPR project wraps up, continued engagement in the community may be necessary to maintain research partnerships. In my experience, this meant making visits to the reservation even as the project was ending. By this time in the study, I was no longer living in the same state as the tribe, so my visits could no longer be weekly. I continue to be in contact with the tribe by phone and e-mail. I have also made a point of visiting the reservation every few months when possible. During my visits, I go to the places I had frequented during the study, this includes having lunch at the tribal senior center and visiting with the vice chairperson. I also check in with other tribal members to say “hello” and see what pertinent events have occurred since my last visit. These visits keep me connected and prove to be a good opportunity to see whether there are any emerging research needs in the community. During my visits, I rarely feel like a researcher but rather an old friend or acquaintance checking-in after a long absence.
Discussion
CBPR partnerships offer many opportunities for tribes and researchers to collaborate and address important community-identified concerns. Such collaborations can transform the culture of academia by strengthening responsible, ethical, and reciprocal research partnerships that benefit the communities we serve. While this article is based on my graduate research experience, the lessons learned are applicable to all levels of research activity. The insights shared may support developing scholars (both Indigenous and non-Indigenous) in navigating the culture of doctoral education and research and academia in general. Additionally, my experiences as a community-based participatory researcher may inform future researchers in the process of developing and maintaining respectful, ethical, and effective research partnerships between AI tribes and the academy.
Implications
Doctoral education must continue to consider its oppressive traditions that too often isolate students of color. This must also include ensuring that Indigenous students and other students of color have the appropriate supports in place to help them navigate the historically/predominantly white institutions that have not always welcomed or understood them. Supports must also be put in place that value and understand CBPR and its usefulness in engaging with historically underrepresented and marginalized communities of color.
Doctoral Education and Research
Indigenous scholars require a supportive or at least a knowledgeable mentoring environment (Kovach, 2010). This includes connecting Indigenous students with other Indigenous scholars and their informed allies. If an Indigenous student is having difficulty finding peers within their own university, it can be helpful to reach out to Indigenous academics from other institutions. For instance, through a national fellowship for historically underrepresented PhD students, I connected with both AI faculty and students from across the Nation. The connections I made with other AI academics proved invaluable and provided a safe space for me to communicate my struggles with doctoral education (see Gildersleeve et al., 2011; Lovitts, 2005; Wulff & Nerad, 2006).
Having an Indigenous person on an Indigenous student’s dissertation committee can be a support; however, beyond being Indigenous, the committee member must be the right fit. In my experience, non-Indigenous faculty assumed that I should have the only Indigenous faculty member in the department on my dissertation committee. However, Indigenous people are not homogenous, and this assumption was harmful to the composition of my committee. Ultimately, I was able to have several supportive non-Indigenous interdisciplinary committee members who supported me throughout my doctoral studies.
University faculty had originally told me that CBPR was too time-consuming for a dissertation. As an Indigenous academic, I disagree because time is a cultural concept (Levine, 1997). Indigenous concepts of time are relative to the surrounding environment and circumstances. The faculty member’s view of time was based in Western culture where time is linear, heavily structured, and every minute counts. For Indigenous communities, time takes a different course where events begin and end when the time is “right,” which is often based on watching, listening, waiting, and then acting based upon those observations. If institutions are to support research with AI communities, then doctoral education must respect and honor the cultural nuances of time.
Additionally, one of the benefits of investing time in CBPR development is that once a project is complete, you may already have an amenable community to collaborate with for your next study. This proved true for me as I transitioned into a tenure-track faculty position after completing my PhD. By already having an established relationship with a community, I was able to submit and receive funding to continue my community-based work during my first year as a faculty member. Had I not engaged in CBPR during my doctoral education, I would have had to spend much of my early junior faculty years developing community relationships. Therefore, doctoral programs must acknowledge that the program of study, research trajectory, and motivations of students of color may differ from that of mainstream/majority students they work with, and that’s okay.
Discouraging graduate students from engaging in CBPR due to time constraints is a moot point. When working with historically marginalized communities, such as AI tribes, CBPR can be an important skill to hone, as it can be a preferred type of research approach for many communities. When doctoral education dissuades the use of CBPR for dissertation studies, it potentially hinders the next generation of researchers from engaging in this important endeavor.
CBPR
In all, I spent countless hours on the reservation getting to know people, recruiting participants, collecting data, and disseminating findings. Community engagement was key, and without it, the CBPR project would not have been successful. Time is often the reason researchers do not engage in CBPR. There is no quick way to do CBPR—it takes time and time must be given. I focused much of my time on getting to know the community and tribal members at all social locations. This meant that I spent an equitable amount of time with those in leadership positions as well as with the broader membership of the tribe.
Although I used several CBPR strategies in the study, full engagement of participants in an equal partnership for all aspects of the study was not possible. I often state that much of CBPR is about communication and negotiation, in which sometimes the community leads (i.e., culture, research topic) and I follow, and sometimes it’s the reverse (i.e., method selection, analysis). Ultimately, it is about communicating what the expectations of each partner are and how to put a plan into action. The limitations of the study are similar to other photovoice projects that report fluctuating levels of CBPR engagement due to a variety of community dynamics and competing priorities among participants. These included issues related to time commitment, tribal and community resources, and personal/familial responsibilities (see Mitchell, 2016; Hergenrather, Rhodes, Cowan, Bardhoshi, & Pula, 2009).
Traditional research designs may be limited in their ability to engage community members in the research process. CBPR offers promising strategies that lessen the distance between communities and academia and can provide mutually beneficial research endeavors. Successful CBPR partnerships first hinge on the ability to build consistent transparent relationships. Without a solid foundation, researchers will gain little ground in achieving goals set forth by themselves or the communities they work with. Given the diversity of tribal communities, CBPR partnerships will vary, as they need to be responsive to specific community and tribal characteristics (Mitchell, 2016). Given the variation of Indigenous CBPR projects, researchers must document the results of their efforts and the processes in which they engage with communities. Continued documentation is essential in understanding and increasing the probability of successful CBPR partnerships with AI communities in the future.
Although CBPR has been gaining traction in academic circles, it is not without its critics. Main criticisms of CBPR include the amount of time, resources, and engagement required, which means CBPR is not suitable for every researcher. Collaborating with AI communities requires space to develop rapport and build trust between all parties invested in the research. Being a community-based participatory researcher also requires patience, persistence, passion, and a bit of optimism to stay the course. This is particularly important when others question the validity of CBPR and lament it as too time intensive or cumbersome for doctoral students or those on the tenure track. It is in these moments that a researcher’s commitment to the tenets of CBPR and the community are most tested. However, social work’s commitment to marginalized communities who have been harmed by past research requires restorative relationships that strengthen tribal/academic research partnerships; it is the effort we at least owe for the errors of our research predecessors.
Perhaps the most important measure of CBPR’s worth is the response from tribal communities. I was recently invited to return to the reservation and collaborate with not only the tribe described in this article but with three other tribes in the local vicinity. Tribal representatives from each of these tribes were enthusiastic in proposing their research ideas from a CBPR perspective, which was based on the work I had done with the tribe aforementioned in this article. Additionally, their trust of working with me most likely stemmed from the time and commitment I had invested during my dissertation research. Such community responses endorse the usefulness of CBPR and its ability to not only develop but foster and grow academic research relationships with tribal communities.
Conclusion
Space and time move differently in community work than in academia, and when engaging in CBPR, it is important to understand and appreciate these differences. Although engaging in CBPR requires a sizable commitment of time from both community partners and researcher(s), the time invested can build a strong foundation for ongoing research collaborations. Core principles of CBPR cannot be truly applied unless power differentials are identified and addressed, which includes understanding power, privilege, and researcher positionality. Likewise, doctoral education must critically examine oppressive practices that too often alienate students of color and discourages them from engaging in research that is deemed nontraditional by Western standards. Academia must support the work of developing CBPR scholars to ensure the next generation of researchers is well equipped to work with marginalized communities of color that may require community engagement beyond traditional research designs.
Footnotes
Acknowledgment
I would like to thank Tribal Council, and to all tribal members at large, who welcomed me into their community and allowed me to work and learn beside them.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: Funding for this article was received from Kansas Humanities Council, and the Institute for Policy and Social Research and the Office of Graduate Studies at the University of Kansas.
