Unraveling the Neocolonial Epistemologies: Decolonizing Research Toward Transformative Literacy

Abstract

For many years, research epistemologies and methodologies have been influenced by colonial perspectives in knowledge production. The focus of this article is to discuss ways in which research can be transformed for the purpose of including marginalized communities, such as Indigenous communities, whose knowledge has been systematically excluded in academic research. In fact, I argue that whether or not research is conducted in the contexts of Indigenous or other marginalized communities, it must embody the elements of decolonization to interrupt and interrogate the long-standing colonial discourse in research. I specifically focus on the importance of language as well as the sociocultural and historical awareness of communities who allow us to work with them. I conclude by urging all scholars to ask serious questions about the knowledge they produce and who benefits from it.

Editor’s Note: As literacy research moves across physical and cultural boundaries, populations, languages, and so forth, current policies and practices influence new research with Indigenous populations. In the last Journal of Literacy Research (JLR) issue, Keehne, Sarsona, Kawakami, and Au (2018) raised many critical ideas and shared an indigenous framework about Hawaii schools to explore culturally responsive instruction. To extend a focus on Indigenous populations, we asked Bekisizwe Ndimande to address the question: “What should literacy researchers keep in mind when reading, reviewing, and engaging in studies using Indigenous research methods?”

Researchers in all areas of study are grappling with research methodologies that continue to be skewed toward Eurocentric perspectives and the epistemological assumptions on which they are based. Research methods such as surveys, interviews, and ethnographic studies are historically rooted within the nexus of European imperialism and colonialism (Smith, 1999). However, today there is a growing number of international scholars who problematize the failure of research to honor other ways of understanding the world (Cannella & Manuelito, 2008; Denzin, Lincoln, & Smith, 2008; Mutua & Swadener, 2004; Ndimande, 2012; Smith, 1999; Tierney, 2017). They call for decolonizing traditional research assumptions and methods. These scholars argue that researchers need to embrace new ways of thinking about knowledge and knowledge production, including new methods for creating such knowledge. They call for the inclusion of the knowledge of those communities historically marginalized by the dominant Eurocentric discourse. Put simply, research epistemologies and methods need to be transformed to include the voices of the subaltern (Spivak, 1988), that is, those who are outside the sociocultural and political hegemony of the colonial empires, thus subjugated and colonized.

For the purpose of this article, I focus on the importance of decolonizing methodologies in the contexts of research conducted with and for Indigenous and other marginalized communities. However, this does not mean decolonizing research is necessary and important only in the contexts of these communities. Whether or not research is conducted in the contexts of Indigenous and other marginalized communities, it must embody the elements of decolonization to interrupt and interrogate the long-standing colonial discourse in research. In fact, I argue that this call for decolonizing research is even more necessary in prominent areas of knowledge production that largely influence current educational policies and curriculum in classrooms, like literacy research.

One way of embracing decolonizing epistemologies and methodologies in research, whether in literacy or any other field, is through language. In my own research in curriculum and teacher education, I found Indigenous languages to be effective in connecting the researcher with the participants with whom she or he collaborates. I have argued elsewhere (Ndimande, 2012) that the use of Indigenous languages situates the research within the sociocultural and political contexts of the participants. Languages used must serve to affirm the importance of the local cultural context in research that is connected to Indigenous and other marginalized communities. Numerous scholars (e.g., Alexander, 1989; Bokamba, 2007; Dei, 2011; Hamza, 2004; Iseke & Ndimande, 2014; McCarty, 2009; Ngugi wa Thiong’o, 1993) have argued that mother tongues are forms of cultural identity and deserve recognition, preservation, and promotion in all social and educational institutions, including research institutions. For instance, Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s (1993) insistence on the use of African languages in social institutions of African countries must be taken seriously. According to Ngugi wa Thiong’o (1993), Indigenous languages are our common heritage:

A world of many languages should be like a field of flowers of different colours. There is no flower which becomes more of a flower on account of its colour or its shape. All such flowers express their common “floralness” in their diverse colours and shapes . . . [and therefore] all our languages should join in the demand for a new international economic, political, and cultural order. (p. 39)

This quote is a call to recognize those languages that have been historically left on the margins. Even researchers with good intentions often conduct interviews in a language foreign to the people with whom they engage in such research. Obviously, the foreignness of the language may limit and perhaps distort what the researcher can learn from the participants. This limitation and distortion may diminish possibilities of what the research can do to improve the lives of these communities. Above all, creating a space for Indigenous languages is what McCarty (2009) refers to as empowering Indigenous communities through Indigenous mother tongues, repositioning their languages from the margins to the center.

Hamza (2004) further reminds us that conducting research in Indigenous languages can be framed as a “decolonizing” method. She observes that the de-emphasis on the colonial language (often English) in interviews is important in interrupting the colonial and hegemonic practices in research. She condemns what she calls the “sole use of or primacy of colonial language” in research with Indigenous populations:

To encourage change, native researchers need to realize their own impact in conducting studies using their linguistic and sociocultural skills and the decision to include the “illiterate” people’s perspectives about the issue tackled. (p. 132)

Although Hamza’s argument was mainly focused on Indigenous researchers, as I stated earlier, all researchers must make an effort to create a space for local languages. This can help our social institutions to unlearn the preconceived assumptions about the marginalized groups and compel us as researchers to engage in noncolonialist research. Such efforts would also be beneficial to those who are culturally distant from such communities and give them opportunities to truly understand the adversities marginalized communities have endured over the years.

In addition to being conscientious about the importance of Indigenous languages in research, scholars must also question stereotypes by the colonial discourse that tend to characterize Indigenous and other oppressed groups in a cultural and intellectual deficit manner. For instance, the concept of “illiteracy,” which carries negative connotation in main stream research. Let me hasten to add that I do acknowledge and appreciate Hamza (2004) above for engaging us in the critical and important discussion about languages, but I do also want to trouble her use of the word “illiteracy.” My elaboration of her argument is in the spirit of pushing it further. Illiteracy means not being able to read or write. It comes from unlettered. It was a colonialist assumption that people who could not read or write were uneducated and knew little about the world. However, many cultures pass on knowledge orally and through discussion or practice—for example, Socrates could not write—and members of these cultures might be very well educated without books. This suggests that communities who are not educated through Western notions of knowing are labeled “illiterate,” even though they may be knowledgeable of their sociopolitical and cultural epistemologies. Indeed, the concepts of “Popular Education” in Brazil and “People’s Education for People’s Power” in South Africa represent the kind of education system that is truly connected to communities; these programs seek to teach and understand the sociopolitical and historical issues that affect such communities.

But there is also another troubling connotation connected to the Western conception of “illiteracy.” Even in contexts where communities may be able to read and write in their own Indigenous languages, meaning they are lettered communities, their literacy is not recognized by institutions because they are considered not lettered in a Western language. Therefore, to be lettered only counts if a Western language is involved. In the case of postapartheid South Africa, languages such as IsiZulu, IsiXhosa, SeSotho, and so forth are all written languages, yet they are not valued as part of the literacy of those who speak, read, and write in them. As such, they are not as privileged as English in the country’s social institutions. Although the democratic constitution (1996) recognizes all 11 languages as equal, Indigenous and marginalized children continue to lose their mother tongues and cultures because of public schools that devalue the literacies embedded in these languages (Iseke & Ndimande, 2014).

I have discussed the importance of using Indigenous languages in research, including the importance of problematizing concepts like “illiteracy,” which tend to be a deficit characterization of Indigenous and other marginalized communities by the colonial discourse in research. Yet, I also want to illustrate how such research methods can be conducted in the research field experience. In the next section, I share parts of an interview I conducted with an Indigenous parent a few years ago as an example of a truly transformative experience in research that engages marginalized communities in their own languages. In this interview, Mama Ntombi was comfortable talking in SeSotho to an extent that when asked about her hopes for her daughter’s education, she reflected also on other issues beyond the question asked. Let me also hasten to add that although the interviews were conducted in the parents’ first language, this does not imply they could not speak English.

Potṡiṡo:

Dikholofelo tṡa gago ke dife go ngwana wa gago?

Mama Ntombi:

Ke kganyoga ge ngwana waka a ka hlompha batho ba bangwe le setṡo sa rena. O swanetṡe go ba le setṡo sa gagwe. Le ge a ka fetoga (setṡo) ke nyaka a tseba seo se lokilego ka gore, ge o ka hlokomediṡiṡa, batho ba bantṡi ba boela ditṡong tṡa bona, ke ka fao ba thomago go botṡiṡiṡa dilo le go belaela ka tṡona. Go fa mohlala, o gopola ka “Dube on Monday?” [Dube ka Moṡupologo]

Potṡiṡo:

Aowa, ga ke tsebe “Dube on Monday.” Ke eng yeo?

Mama Ntombi:

Go na le lenaneo mo go Lekgotlakgaṡo la Afrika Borwa, Kanaleng ya bobedi. Mo pontṡhong yeo [Dube on Monday], motho yo mongwe o ile a bolela gore bokaone a ka ba tṡhwene go na le gore e be Moshangaan (Motho yo moso yo a tṡwago mohlobong wa Mashangaan go la Afrika Borwa). Polelo yeo e ile ya kweṡa batho ba bantṡi bohloko le setṡhaba ka kakaretṡo. Seo se ile sa goga ṡedi ya mmuṡo wa boditṡhabatṡhaba. Ke lemogile gore batho ba thoma go nagana ka ditṡo tṡa bona. Bjalo ka batho ba baso, re lahlegile (mabapi le tṡa setṡo). Re ṡetṡe morago setṡo sa Baṡweu (makgowa), etṡwe re sa se tsebe. Ke ka lona lebaka leo ke nyakago morwedi waka go tsena sekolo sa motsesetoropong. Mo sekolong seo o tla gahlana le Moshangaan yoo pontṡho ya thelebiṡene [TV] e bego e bolela ka yena ka go mo nyenyefatṡa le go mo nyefola ka lehloyo. O tla gahlana le Maxhosa, Mavenda le Mapedi, o a tseba. Ge a etla gae re tla kgona go bolela. Re tla re “Ka Sepedi re dira dilo ka tsela ye, efela Mashangaan a dira dilo ka tsela ye.”Se se tla mo kgontṡha go amogela bao ba nago le setṡo sa go fapana le sa Mapedi. O a tseba, batho ba ke ba borena [Mashangaan]. Ga ra swanela go ba sotla le go ba tlaiṡa. Go ka direga gore ka letṡatṡi le lengwe morwedi waka a gahlane le monna wa Moshangaan ba be ba nyalane, o a tseba. Ke batho le bona, o a tseba. O swanetṡe go hlompha batho ba bangwe. A ka phela le Baṡweu (makgowa) efela o swanetṡe go tseba gore o wela kae. (setsopolwa go tṡwa go Ndimande, 2013)

Translated to English

Question:

What are your hopes for your child?

Mama Ntombi:

I wish that my child could respect others and our culture. She has to have her own culture. Even if she changes [culture], I want her to know what is right, because, if you observe carefully, most people now are returning to their cultures, hence people begin to question things and also to complain about things. For instance, do you remember Dube on Monday?

Question:

No, what is it?

Mama Ntombi:

There is a show on South African Broadcasting Cooperation [SABC] Channel 2. In that show [Dube on Monday], someone mentioned that she would rather be a baboon than be a Shangaan [a Black person from the Shangaan ethnic group in South Africa]. That statement caused a lot of pain to most of us and to the nation. The whole thing caught the national government’s attention. I have noticed that people are beginning to think about their culture. As Black people, we are lost [culturally speaking]. We are after a White culture, yet we don’t know it. This is the reason I want my daughter to be in a township school. In that school, she will get to meet the very same Shangaan person that the TV show talked so disparagingly and disdainfully about. She will also meet the Xhosa, Venda, and Pedi, you know. And when she comes home, then we can talk. We will say: “In Sepedi, we do things this way. But the Shangaans do things that way.” This will enable her to accommodate those who are culturally different from the Pedis. You know, these are [our] people [the Shangaans]. We shouldn’t ridicule and mistreat them. Someday my daughter may wind up getting married to a Shangaan man, you know. They are also people, you know. She should have respect for other people. She can live with White people but she should know where she belongs. (quoted in Ndimande, 2013)

This excerpt bears testimony to how marginalized peoples open up if researchers reach out to them in their own language, which conveys a sense of valuing their knowledge and their perspectives on these issues. The use of Indigenous language enabled this mother to elaborate on her thoughts with examples and give responses that revealed other issues related to her community.

Most educational research in the global South is conducted in schools, higher education institutions, and other “distant” settings. Few, if any, researchers go to local communities to inquire about their perspectives on issues related to schooling or social policies that affect their communities. Historically, these institutions have systematically excluded Indigenous and marginalized communities’ voices. The marginalization is in part due to attitudes toward the neighborhoods and socioeconomic and material conditions in which these communities live. As I argue elsewhere,

The persistent binary discourse of “us and them,” especially in the media, the divide between communities that are normalized and those that aren’t, is one of the issues that qualitative inquiry has to address. This is also a racialized discourse because of the still segregated nature of Indigenous communities’ neighborhoods. The colonialist discourse of the media has created images of such neighborhoods as “problematic and unsafe.” Phrases such as “don’t go there,” “the streets are chaotic and dangerous,” “they are barbaric,” “they are lazy and immoral” or “they have HIV/AIDS,” confirm the racial divide and the “Othering” of Indigenous neighborhoods. Manuelito (2004) reminds us that describing a neighborhood as “chaotic” or as “deviant,” is a direct description of people who live in those areas. (Ndimande, 2013, p. 94)

Therefore, it is crucial for all researchers to understand the sociopolitical and cultural connection between research and the people whom the research purports to support. To do decolonization research for transformation, we need to challenge such colonial assumptions reflected in the above excerpt.

Rogers and Swadener (1999) urge us to interrogate what it is that we know and who benefits from that knowledge. To me, and to all of us, this must be one of the ultimate questions that can steer those who seek to engage in anticolonial research to begin interrogating the nature of traditional research. This project will require committed researchers to challenge and resist what Norm Denzin (2005) calls the neoliberal and neocolonial political influence that turns knowledge about Indigenous communities and other oppressed groups into a commodity and drives research toward Western standards regulated by positivism. Obviously, this would be a daunting task, but I am energized by Swadener and Mutua’s (2008) vision and belief that, as they stated, “decolonizing research is a messy, complex, and perhaps impossible endeavor . . . [but] a project worth pursuing, in solidarity with local colleagues and [social justice] movements” (p. 36).

Recently, I was honored to be invited through Skype to a session at the Literacy Research Association’s annual meeting (December 2017). I was invited alongside Graham Smith and Robert Tierney, renowned literacy professors in the field of decolonizing research. The focus of that session was to stimulate conversations about the role of Indigenous research methods in literacy research and the role the Journal of Literacy Research can play in promoting these methods. I am encouraged by the editorial board’s vision of transforming this journal to focus on a more inclusive and diverse audience, and to make an effort to seek out a broader range of epistemologies that reflects those communities who are marginalized in research, whether as scholars, students, or ordinary community members. I am optimistic that the field of decolonizing research, as envisioned by Tihwali Smith (1999) and others many years ago, will continue to grow in literacy research and in other areas to promote transformative scholarship in the 21st century and beyond. Like Smith and others, I conclude with a glimmer of hope.

Supplemental Material

Supplemental_Material_784699 – Supplemental material for Unraveling the Neocolonial Epistemologies: Decolonizing Research Toward Transformative Literacy

Supplemental material, Supplemental_Material_784699 for Unraveling the Neocolonial Epistemologies: Decolonizing Research Toward Transformative Literacy by Bekisizwe S Ndimande in Journal of Literacy Research