Abstract
In this article, I present three I-poems from a larger research project in which I explore the health, identity and social impacts of cycling for people with physical disabilities. I used I-poems as a means of kick-starting an in-depth, multi-perspective engagement with my interview transcripts after struggling to formulate insightful and productive thematic analysis. For me, this research project is something of a departure from my normal research processes and practices as it is taking place in partnership with a voluntary organisation. This organisation facilitated the recruitment of the research participants and had specific inputs into the research questions as well as maintaining ongoing interests in the research findings. My usual research tends to be much less structured and much more exploratory and messy than this. And yet, for me, this messiness facilitates insight and creative engagement which is intensely productive in terms of both findings and outputs – often via the use of creative methods. Therefore, as much as I have enjoyed conducting the research for this project and liaising with the organisation and meeting the participants, I struggled to find my ‘researcher mojo’ when working with the transcripts. In this context, I-poems became a creative stimulant for productive engagement with the transcripts and deepening my critical and reflective insights into the data.
Introduction
I-poems are a method of qualitative analysis which emerged from feminist scholarship which prioritises participants’ voices and subjectivities and promotes the reflexivity of the researcher. In this article, I explore how I came to use I-poems in my research with disabled cyclists and I examine their impact as a reflexive analytic tool. The original research design was primarily policy-oriented and because I am also a disabled cyclist, I assumed that a standard thematic analysis would be straightforward and clear. However, I found the opposite to be the case, and I struggled to productively engage with the research transcripts. Having spent many years using creative research methods, I decided to experiment with the transcripts using I-poems to explore if alternative forms of engagement would reinvigorate my analytic practice. I found the process of making the I-poems, as well as the final pieces, enriching, thought-proving and gratifying. Here, I contextualise the ethos and practice of I-poems, and then present three I-poems (almost in entirety) in order to facilitate a first-hand encounter with the reader. This encounter, which takes place without a pre-imposed interpretation, is essential to the ethos of this method as it enables subjects to speak and to be heard/read on their own terms. I then discuss how each poem re-oriented my relationship with the participants’ voices and/or shed new light on the data which I had overlooked in thematic analysis. The I-poems also challenged some of my taken-for-granted assumptions about the benefits of being an insider researcher, something which is particularly salient in relation to the politics of disability research.
I conclude with some reflections about the impacts of I-poems on my current project and their potential further developments both within my own research and as a means of researcher self-analysis. However, developing these kinds of creative analytic practices is not without tensions in the current performance-oriented research culture: I experienced guilt and uncertainty as well as stimulation and joy when working with I-poems. As such, I-poems highlight the wider political context within which research occurs, not only in regard to the experiences, voices and dilemmas of the research participants but also for the researcher themself.
Research context and methods
This project-in-progress is a small-scale qualitative exploration of the health, identity and social impacts of cycling for people with physical disabilities. I am undertaking this research in conjunction with a user-led charity, Wheels for Wellbeing (WfW) (https://wheelsforwellbeing.org.uk/), who campaign for inclusive cycling infrastructure and promote cycling for people with disabilities. 1 I joined forces with WfW following a chance meeting at a disability conference (I am a disabled cyclist) and we agreed to bid for funding for a longitudinal, mixed-methods research project which explored the impacts of cycling for people with physical disabilities. This bid also incorporated the use of photo-journals so that participants could visually depict the places and activities that cycling made accessible to them, and the project was intended to culminate in a photo exhibition and launch of the final report/findings. Unfortunately, the funding bid was not successful. However, since WfW and I had invested a significant amount of thought, time and enthusiasm into the proposal, it seemed a shame to let it either go to waste altogether or to lie idle while we searched for alternative funding possibilities. Thus, we agreed that I would conduct some qualitative, interview-based research with the hope that the outputs from this would both lend weight to future bids and also provide useful interim data for WfW.
Given that this project originates from a user-led organisation, and that the research participants and I are all people with disabilities, the politics and ethics of disability research are particularly salient. The aim of this research is to promote policy and societal change with direct benefits for people with disabilities, and the goals and priorities have been formulated by disabled people. As such, it clearly conforms to the underpinning ethos of disability research, ‘nothing about us without us’, and principles of equality, respect and inclusion/accessibility (Barnes, 2003; Charlton, 2000; Kitchin, 2000) – principles in which I-poems can play a significant role (below).
As a disabled, feminist researcher, I have a heightened sensitivity to the ways in which marginalised or minority experiences and identities can be appropriated and objectified within academic research (Inckle, 2007). As such, I maintain a critical, reflexive relation with my work in order to avoid replicating such patterns of inequality and objectification. I was also a member of the British Sociological Association (BSA) and I fully adhered to the BSA (2017) Statement of Ethical Practice. This project underwent institutional ethical review at the London School of Economics where I was working at the time the project commenced.
Once ethical approval had been granted, WfW issued calls for participants via their online newsletter, Twitter and the Inclusive Cycling Forum. One research participant who responded to the Twitter call also recruited an additional participant from her workplace. My involvement in WfW activities such as the Inclusive Cycling Forum and cycling events in London meant I had met three of the research participants on previous occasions, two in the forum meetings and one at a TFL (Transport for London) women’s cycling event. I conducted a total of seven interviews, five were face-to-face, three took place in my university office, one in the participants’ workplace and one in a quiet hotel lobby chosen by the participant. Two interviews took place over Skype, one without video according to the wishes of the participant. The interviews ranged in length from 38 to 75 minutes with the two Skype interviews being of shorter duration. 2
The gender of the participants was relatively balanced with four male and three female interviewees and their ages ranged from 31 to 64 years. This age spectrum and gender constituent largely reflects the wider population of disabled cyclists who tend to have an older age range and higher levels of female participation than is common among able-bodied cyclists (Aldred et al., 2016; Arnet et al., 2016; Wheels for Wellbeing (WfW), 2017). Two of the participants had retired, one medically and one slightly earlier than planned following illness. All but one were, or had been, employed in white-collar jobs. Participants used a range of cycles: three rode conventional two-wheel bicycles; three rode non-standard cycles (recumbent and trike, cargo trike, handcycle); and one rode a range of cycles including a recumbent, a standard folding bicycle and a ‘family’ cycle with a child carrier. Their experience of cycling ranged from 10 to more than 50 years with nearly all of them having cycled as children. All of the participants self-identified as having a physical disability, an impairment or a mobility impairment which incorporated a range of experiences, some of which originated from birth/infancy (three women, one man), and some which were acquired in adulthood via illness or accident (three men). 3
I found conducting the interviews for this project interesting and enjoyable; it is a topic in which I have personal interest and experience as well as academic curiosity. It was therefore a pleasure to meet and talk to the participants and to reflect on their experiences. Immediately after the interviews, I made notes to myself about emerging themes or topics which interconnected the participants’ experiences and I expected the analysis of the data to be straightforward. However, part way through the interviews, I attempted a trial coding and analysis of the transcripts which resulted in an unclear, overlapping and rather unwieldy framework. This surprised me as, due to the clearly defined parameters and structure of the research, I had expected the coding and analysis to be straightforward and ripe with low hanging fruit. In my previous work, the analysis has felt almost intuitive, with clear themes calling out to me from the transcripts as I typed, read, coded and re-read them. However, my previous research has been much less structured and much more exploratory than this project. Previously, I have utilised snowball sampling in conjunction with very open and largely unstructured interviews. I have often intuited my way around my research, using creative research methods as a means of representing the research process and the experiences of myself and the participants (Inckle, 2007; 2010a; 2010b). I began to wonder if part of my struggle to find my analytic mojo was due to the pre-structured nature of this project and if, in order to productively engage with the material, I needed to inject a bit of creative uncertainty and disrupt the neat, linear process. As such, I decided to experiment with I-poems as a means of creatively engaging with the transcripts in order to open up new vantage points and insights – something I had become familiar with a few years previously through the work of Julie Parsons (see Parsons, 2017; Parsons and Pettinger, 2017) – although it originated earlier in Mauthner & Doucet’s (1998) “voice-centred relational method”.
I-poems and qualitative analysis
I-poems originate in feminist methods which emphasise the political importance of maintaining the centrality of participants’ voices and the reflexive self-awareness of the researcher (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Koelsch, 2015; Parsons, 2017). Edwards and Weller (2012) argue that I-poems provide an additional analytic tool with which the researcher can prize open new vantage points on their own and the participants’, meanings, subjectivities and perspectives. As such, they can be used as an alternative (Koelsch, 2015) or a complementary (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Parsons, 2017) method to standard thematic analysis as they prioritise the complexity, multi-layered and the often changing nature of participants voices rather than predefined analytic categories (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Mauthner and Doucet, 1998). I-poems ‘use the words of the participant to highlight the complex position of the narrated subject. . . . Their use is an act of resistance against the tendency to reduce complex phenomenon into single linear narratives’ (Koelsch, 2015: 98). As such, I-poems rarely have clear plot lines and often convey a complex and sometimes contradictory sense of self (Koelsch, 2015). As a mode of representation, therefore, I-poems are ‘incomplete’, and this refigures the dynamics of conventional research relationships, inviting the reader into a more conversational, emotional or intimate engagement with the participant’s sense of self (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Koelsch, 2015; Parsons, 2017). Edwards and Weller (2012) describe this relationship as ‘standing alongside’ rather than ‘gazing at’ the participants (p. 215). This shift in position – and power – means that I-poems prioritise listening deeply to participants (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Koelsch, 2015; Parsons, 2017) and, indeed, they are increasingly presented as audio files in order that their full intersubjective impact can be experienced (e.g. Parsons, 2017). As such, I-poems move the researcher and audience away from simplistic objectification of participants and into a more complex, egalitarian and empathic relationship with them. And it is empathy, rather than ‘objective facts’ which transforms perspectives and provides the impetus for social change.
The capacity of poetry (and other creative forms) to undo power dynamics and to create evocative, intersubjective and unpredictable responses in both researchers and audiences has fuelled the exploration of creative/arts-based forms of representation in social science (Inckle, 2007; 2010a; 2010b; Careless and Douglas, 2009; Kara, 2015; Leavey, 2008; Sparkes and Smith, 2014). These explorations of creative research practice are fuelled by evolving ethical sensibilities which challenge simplistic perceptions of ethical obligations as merely ‘avoiding harm’ during research interactions and extend into developing more egalitarian and less controlling forms of analysis and representation (Inckle, 2007; 2010a). As Smith (2002) describes it, This type of writing strategy is a powerful means of conveying complexity and ambiguity without prompting a single, closed, convergent reading. . . . The genre becomes an opportunity and space where one may relinquish the role of the declarative author persuader and attempt to write as, and be represented by, an artfully-persuasive storyteller. (p. 114)
As such, creative approaches to both analysis and representation disrupt normative power dynamics of authoring and reading/observing the lives of Others and engender a more unpredictable and in-depth encounters which in turn, generate new ethical and empirical dimensions – and complexities.
In practical terms, I-poems are created directly from research transcripts. First, the researcher highlights all of the expressions which begin with ‘I’ (these may also include statements prefaced with ‘we’ or ‘you’ when the participant is referring to themself (Mauthner and Doucet, 1998)). This focuses the analysis on the participant’s (often changing) sense of self or agency (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Koelsch, 2015). The researcher also identifies the ‘associated verb’, the ‘seemingly important accompanying text’ (Edwards and Weller, 2012: 205) and/or ‘any additional words necessary to make an entire meaningful phrase’ (Koelsch, 2015: 98). These ‘I statements’ are then cut from the transcript and pasted in the order in which they occurred to form the I-poem (Edwards and Weller, 2012; Koelsch, 2015; Parsons, 2017). I-poems can be further shaped into themed stanzas which represent a particular voice or subject position of the participant or a particular topic. Where I-poems are being used across a wide data set, these themes may incorporate the voices of many of the participants within a theme rather than an individual participant forming the stem for each poem (Edwards and Weller, 2012). In all cases, Koelsch (2015) suggests that I-poems are at their most powerful and effective when, in textual terms, they are the most sparse. It is important to note, therefore, that notwithstanding the focus on the participant’s subjectivity and agency, I-poems are also clearly constructed by the researcher’s interpretation of which elements of the text are ‘important’ or ‘necessary’ and which to exclude. As such, Edwards and Weller (2012) caution against simplistically viewing I-poems as a more authentic portal into a subject’s essential self – indeed, the researcher’s self, feelings and sensibilities are equally enmeshed in an I-poem. Therefore, despite my presentation (above) of a linear ‘how-to’ recipe for creating an I-poem, the process is much more cyclical and complex. For example, I was initially very reluctant to cut away participants’ words as I was afraid of misrepresenting their meanings or removing essential context from them; I felt guilty about structuring subject-related stanzas in case I was entirely misshaping participants’ experiences; I was also aware of the power I wielded when I removed some lines or stanzas in order to make the poems a publishable size. 4 As such it often required more than one visit to a transcript before I was ready to fully cut it away and reveal the I-poem that lay beneath. At the same time, something ‘magical’ occurred, whereby the more that I trusted the process and whittled away the transcripts, the more the participants’ voices re-emerged.
Moreover, notwithstanding the role of the researcher as architect of the I-poems, they can also be used to increase participation in research. For example, the process of creating I-poems can be undertaken by interviewees themselves, thereby promoting a means of inclusive analytic practice which does not require lengthy methodological training (Edwards and Weller, 2012). I-poems can also be used as a way of inviting participants to member-check the researcher’s analysis (Koelsch, 2015). This is important not only as an accessible and inclusive form of analysis but also because some forms of participant analysis or member-checking may risk compromising inter-participant anonymity either by engaging in group analysis of provisional findings or by providing entire transcripts to participants located in small-scale projects.
The purpose of I-poems is, then, both political and practical. Politically they maintain the complexity of subjectivity and the original voices of the research participants without objectifying them in reductive dualistic or linear formations. Practically they provide an additional lens through which to analyse qualitative data and promote reflexivity: The listening to how the interviewee talks about themselves that is fundamental to the I-poem is supposed to create a space between the interviewee’s own self-perception and the analyst’s perception of them. The idea is that the researchers are confronted by how the person who has been interviewed understands their self before the researcher produces an analytic account of who they are. (Edwards and Weller, 2012: 206)
My purpose in developing the I-poems represented here was to move me away from the policy-oriented research themes and questions which dominated my view of the data and to open up a deeper, more insightful and less structured engagement with the research transcripts. This was important not only as a means of fully listening to the research participants, but also to move me past ‘research-analysis block’ and enable me to work productively with the transcripts. I found the use of I-poems almost instantaneously effective in unleashing not only my analytic engagement with the transcripts themselves but also my methodological curiosity in exploring this method further. As such, in addition to the single voice I-poems presented below, I am also exploring the use of multi-vocal I-poems as a means of representing the emotional impacts of the policy, material and interpersonal barriers encountered by people with (fairly invisible) physical disabilities who use bicycles as mobility aids.
In this article, I present and discuss single voice I-poems in light of the new perspectives which they revealed to me. This included new sensitivity and awareness towards the participants’ subjectivities and experiences and increased self-awareness of the impacts of my insider status.
The I-poems of disabled cyclists
The first transcript that I edited into an I-poem was Rosie’s. 5 When working with Rosie’s transcript, I initially found myself reluctant to keep the I-poem ‘sparse’. I wanted to maintain enough detail so that the reader could understand her story within the same narrative framework as the original transcript. And while to some extent, I used stanzas to break up topics in line with the structure of the transcript, I also found that the more I cut out of the transcript, the more the meanings reappeared. Here, I have presented Rosie’s I-poem in slightly edited form (850 from 1074 words) 6 and I reflect on the emerging insights below. Following Parsons (2017), I created a title for each poem by taking a line from one of the stanzas which, to me, captured the essence of the participant’s story.
Rosie: I just couldn’t stop smiling
I like that one that we did I’ve never been out on the road I enjoyed that. I didn’t think I could do it I just thought I would never be able to. I actually had a broken leg I had to have surgery I couldn’t wait I thought I would never I can’t get on a normal bike I couldn’t take any more brakes. I used to I was a lot younger I had more and more surgeries I just couldn’t any more. I met [name] I had my leg in plaster I was like I really want to go! I didn’t know I had no clue whatsoever. I was like ‘oh my gosh! this is really fun!’ I was just smiling from ear to ear I was with my husband I just couldn’t stop smiling I hadn’t been on a bike for so long I was just really happy I had seen recumbent bikes I had never seen the tricycle I had never seen them. I tried a side-by-side I think that was it I just wanted to start off not too big I didn’t know how I was going to do. I tried the recumbent bikes and the tandem I think they are trikes I tried. I actually only discovered I am doing it on Mondays I only realised I only realised I was on that I was back on the trike I noticed I do get it I have to stop I remembered from before I was like [hurting] ‘ooooh!’ I do feel like it’s a good work out. I didn’t know about that before I was like, ‘Gosh, what else?’ I was just so happy I have wanted for so long I just didn’t know. I do feel my leg muscles I’ve done so much I mean sometimes I’m like, ‘Oh my gosh, it’s so sore!’ I do go the gym I get really bored I hate doing gym stuff I don’t know I just really I don’t know I would be more anxious I’m worried I’ll fall I dunno I’ve got a problem I’ve got [condition] I get older I’ve got damage I had that done I do get worn out I get hot I get worn out. I don’t think it’s as bad I do get really anxious I broke my leg I do get that anxiety. I would love to get one I haven’t got storage I do always think I’d be really worried I don’t know. I’m not sure I can’t even get out of bed I can cope a bit. I do. I’m feeling I do kind of beat myself up. I’m quite happy I started doing it I have started I don’t want that I would be I was a bit I’m up and down I’m doing I’ve got a fitness mentor I am doing it with I talked to people I used to go before I’m going to I’ve got my fitness mentor I did find it was good I have taken I’ve kept measuring I went with him I was like I’ve gone really far I didn’t even notice! I had never tried I was really anxious I did want to go I was really anxious I was thinking I don’t want I found out I can’t do. I wanted to do yoga I was going to physio I said to the physios I could see I was a bit I was really put off I was like with the yoga I was like I’m going to try it! I think I thought I would never. I want to try. I was on a trike I think it’s good. I saw one I just saw I was like I don’t know I think I would like to I would like to I’d just be worried I don’t know I think I don’t know I think people I don’t know I think I would be really anxious I don’t know I drive I always get really anxious I’m like I would probably I would also be a bit worried I was too tired I would be a bit anxious. I can’t remember I would be a bit scared I haven’t looked I don’t think I would get a trike I would get a recumbent I saw I never really looked I saw I don’t know I haven’t been I guess that’s all really. I think that’s mostly it I just really love it. I am trying I hadn’t cycled I started having really bad damage I couldn’t bend it I just started to get loads more I started to get bone tumours I started to get worse I’ve had a knee replacement I had a knee replacement I had bone cancer I was really excited I wanted a knee replacement I got to be able to I had bone cancer I had gone to a different hospital I was so happy! I could cross my legs I hadn’t done for years! I was like I’m going to be able to ride a bike! I didn’t ever think this would happen.
The first time I worked with Rosie’s transcript, highlighting the I-phrases before I cut and pasted them into the I-poem, I really noticed how her story was dominated by joy and pleasure as well as worry and anxiety, alongside her determination to keep trying new things. These were aspects of her story which I had not fully appreciated from the verbatim transcript. After I had cut and pasted the I-statements and read the I-poem in its entirety, I was deeply moved by the way the poem ended. Rosie is the youngest of the research participants, and the in final stanza she describes how ‘excited’ she was at her diagnosis of bone cancer because it gave her access to a knee replacement that she had previously been refused despite its radical benefits for her mobility. Like Rosie, I also encounter obstructive systems and practices which prevent people with disabilities from accessing services and/or equipment which would have immense impacts on our mobility and quality of life. Nonetheless, the light of Rosie’s joy in an otherwise horrendous context is a brutal indictment of the quality of life and services for people with disabilities in 21st-century Britain (see: Pring, 2011; Quarmby, 2012; Stewart, 2017). Rosie’s poem, then, provides a stark and poignant view of the wider context of disabled people cycling which I may well have overlooked in a conventional thematic analysis.
Rob was the first interviewee and the second I-poem that I created. Rob’s was the shortest interview at 38 minutes, but his is one of the longer I-poems at 1342 words (presented here in edited form at 1000 words).
Rob: I can get around
I do a lot of cycling I have real problems walking I do cycle I cycle quite long distances I did a 111 km I have a lot of memorable cycling experiences I do a lot I keep up with people I have no problems with cycling I just love cycling. I feel I think I’m addicted I always do it I’m cycling. I mean I’ve got I’ve got three. I’ve got a road bike I’ve got a sort of knocking around town bike I go shopping I visit friends I go into town I go for little short rides I have been here three years I’m still getting to know it I explore town I go on these long road bike rides I can get around. I had one bike I was at university I think I’m just trying to think. I lived in [name] I got a job I bought myself a folding bike I found I can just take it with me wherever I want I just stick it in the back of the car I don’t have a car anymore I had a car I could just stick it in the back. I’ve always had a bike I think I think that started I was a graduate. I was a student I had a bike I didn’t use it every day I didn’t need it I could walk longer distances then. I can’t walk around I think I’ve been using bicycles I can’t walk more than fifty meters. I discovered for myself I found, myself I was used to cycling. I used to travel abroad I used to feel a bit miffed I had to pay for it I knew that I needed it I really needed I was sort of thinking I think that sort of clarified it I wanted to try and fly with the bike. I have problems walking I just want to go in I can’t. I can’t walk in without the bike I find it very difficult I want to use it I actually use it like a bit of a rolling walking stick I was recently in [name] I went to the [name] I could walk around with it I needed it. I’m fairly resigned I just think well ok I understand I get quite angry I’ve got a little card I pass what they call the mobility scale I need mobility aids I can actually show that I am disabled I do need this. I’ve not really done that I must admit I have shown it to people I have got something to show I get angry I get frustrated I want them to understand I also understand their position I think that’s one of the problems. I think they do I suppose, they are slightly disbelieving. I think that sometimes I have come across this I remember cycling I used to take I used to cycle through I say to them ‘I’m disabled, I need it, I won’t tell anybody’. I’ve never had I don’t I’m not much slower I think they are often surprised I don’t think they see I don’t think. I can’t walk far I have a friend I go with. I suppose I never had to explain I think I’m on a normal bike I mean they can see I think people notice I’m on the bike I’m not limping I’m on the bike I don’t limp. I cycle with I use a bike to get around I’ve got friends I go cycling with I do I’m quite an advocate I am a MAMIL!
7
I also like to get out and compete. I think without being able to cycle I would be I don’t know I really don’t know how I would be able to live my life. I don’t know how I would get out I don’t know what I would do. I mean this one of the issues I have got with my disability I’m not quite sure I do see it I do see it as part of my life I will continue I do think about if I wouldn’t be able to I get quite depressed I don’t know how I would manage I don’t know what I would do I think I would find it very limiting. I still have dreams I want to cycle I have these ideas I am planning I have to think I do a lot of research I mean I go with my partner I cycle alongside her I do have to plan ahead. I have always been able I’m prepared to justify I don’t feel resentful I see that as a choice I could have I decide not to I’m trying to think I said before I can sort of understand I can also understand slightly I think pedestrians I can sort of understand I think it would be easier I’m just thinking I think. I just get these frustrating experiences I’ve not visited it I need to go inside I wouldn’t be able to walk around I could lean on it I could walk around I have shown them my card I need this bicycle I’ve even threatened I have never done I find it frustrating. I have I was having to I just thought I’ll cycle I started cycling I try to explain I’m often being asked to dismount I get a similar issue I’m with my partner I have been asked to not cycle I am cycling. I’m quite sensitive I like to think I’m not irritating people I think I find I am. I get so much more I just get frustrated I just wish I like this charity I think that raising awareness I think people need to campaign. I suppose I see bicycles as a ploy I’ve lived with my disability I have learned to live with it I’ve found ways I don’t know what more I don’t feel differently I don’t think I just see it.
Rob’s I-poem highlights the stark contrast between the ways in which someone can be multiply-able with bicycles and yet significantly dis-abled when prevented from using them: he can cycle 111 km in a day, but cannot walk more than 50 metres. As a disabled cyclist myself, this theme is not a surprise to me and yet I was startled by how powerful it is when presented in poetic form. This led me to consider the potential disadvantages of being an insider researcher in this project. For example, I identified with many of Rob’s experiences both during the interview and on subsequent readings of his transcript. I have spent much of my life using a standard bicycle as my main form of mobility, even though I struggled to walk for more than a few metres and had to use crutches and experience a lot of pain to manage that. Therefore, I have extensive experience of having to navigate the difficulties that arise because people/policy/the law does not account for bicycles as mobility aids or accept that a person can have significant problems with walking and still cycle a bike. As such, much of Rob’s story is ‘normal’ rather than remarkable to me, and perhaps this makes me less sensitive to the significance of the data. The I-poem, then, re-orientates me to an ‘outsider’ perspective on Rob’s experiences, highlighting the enabling function of bicycles and the dis-abling impacts of preventing someone from using them. The role of bicycles as mobility aids is particularly important in the campaign work of WfW and so it is therefore crucial that my identification with an experience and my insider status does not numb me to the power and significance of the data I have gathered. In this regard, the I-poem is an effective way to re-new my position and perspective.
Eric was the third interviewee and the third I-poem I created (presented here, edited to 799 from the original 1144 words). I approached Eric’s transcript with particular interest. Eric’s was one of the longer interviews (67 minutes) and produced a transcript of nearly 10,000 words. Throughout the interview much of Eric’s focus was on policy or theoretical issues rather than describing his own personal experiences. Indeed, after I sent Eric his transcript, he commented on his tendency to avoid directly answering questions about how he felt and to divert into impersonal topics. However, when stripped back to I-statements and refigured into an I-poem, it was remarkable to encounter Eric’s contrasting subject positions.
Eric: I am able
I did the London to Brighton bike ride I actually managed it I had loads of gears I managed to keep on I made it I achieved I kept going I kept going. I had my stroke I had my stroke I did quite a lot of cycling I commuted to work.
I can do this
I can do more than I thought I could. I still keep on telling myself I can’t do that much I can’t do it I can. I first had my stroke I did a lot of research I’m not able to walk far I’m very slow walking I remember I had to relearn to walk I couldn’t get across my kitchen I don’t think I would I probably wouldn’t go out I am able I am able I am getting a lot of exercise. I’ve got asthma. I was director I’ve always been interested I went on a holiday I worked I have done a lot of work I think I think I think this is a problem I like that term. I found out who sold them I went down to the one I had had my stroke I had actually tried cycling I managed it I made myself. I would have liked it I could see how it works I really enjoyed I was fine in a straight line I liked that I could see this isn’t going to work I need to turn a corner. I tried these various cargo trikes I didn’t want that style I was quite important I had only been on it I got into [name] Park I did manage I blagged by way in I used language I wobble around I play a game I can actually terrify people I am going to fall I am not actually. I’d been in I was cycling it I was coming off a road I was really worried I didn’t get out of its way quickly I tried to pull myself I did tip it then I didn’t hurt myself. I want to do I haven’t been able to I have friends I’m trying to work out I think I could get it on I’d probably get it I’m not sure I’m allowed I did see somebody. I’ve got no parking fees I can load and unload I’ve actually taken it around a DIY store I’ve gone round in a DIY store I don’t think I’m that different I have seen I can’t see that I suppose I like giving confusing messages I’m not being labelled I’m not being categorised. I’ve had to I didn’t drive for six weeks I didn’t like it. I’ve got to go to an automatic I should get some adaptations I didn’t do it I thought that, ‘No’ I didn’t feel ready I didn’t feel I could trust my leg I did another test I have been driving I did the normal London trick I could get through I shouldn’t have I blagged my way I was thinking I won’t I’ll do that I’ll just go and do something. I’ve stopped driving. I’m ok with the trike I think I have found something I was near retirement I think I have got something I can’t see I’m not using the fossil fuels I am the duckbill-platypus I no longer fit in the categories I wouldn’t get a blue-badge I’m too fit I have made myself fit I’m thinking I don’t do my physiotherapy properly I’ve done these kind of expert patient courses. I used the terms I actually demonstrated I was disabled I was using correct terms I did with the police. I came across I thought I don’t want to I don’t want to I do it reluctantly. I have been a manager I have been a director I’ve done bits of training I suppose it’s more I’m doing that I put my war paint on I put my theatrical stuff on. I’ve offered kids rides I’ve offered people I’ve got them to sit on it. I’m being recorded. I actually think I’m the only trike around I used to feel quite lonely I did feel quite lonely I’m actually quite pleased I can think I think actually some more I think that’s right I don’t actually understand why. I’m not sure I really belong here. I’m not sure I think it’s to do with modernism I suppose this is a bit I remember reading I see it I worked I watch people I watch people I’m not saying I think is where I’m coming from I have been the chair I was reading I don’t know I suppose I haven’t thought it through properly I can see I’ve got all the bits I haven’t actually formalised it. I don’t understand that.
As noted above, the I-poem format emphasises both Eric’s confidence and vulnerability, revealing contrasting subject positions which were much less clear to me during the interview or when reading the full transcript. His agency and assertiveness are clearly present in the poem, as I expected them to be, but what surprised and touched me was also the vulnerability which is revealed – particularly in the stanza about driving. I also found the way in which the poem ended significant. Throughout the interview, Eric had made a number of lengthy and articulate critiques of various aspects of transport, health and social planning and policy, often remarking that there was a failure to ‘think through’ the full possibilities and implications especially where cyclists in general, and disabled people/cyclists in particular, were concerned. In contrast, however, the I-poem closes with Eric critically reflecting on the incompleteness of his own perspective and his own limited success in fully thinking through all of these issues. Given the strength of his assertions throughout the interview, without the I-poem, I would have overlooked this aspect of Eric’s subjectivity. This I-poem, then, enabled me to hear the softer voice of Eric’s vulnerable and tentative self, rather than just the authoritative voice of his agentic self. Having now heard this voice, I will remain conscious of it when I return to the transcript to undertake the thematic analysis for the wider project.
Concluding reflections
In this article, I have explored the use of I-poems as a method to promote in-depth, reflexive engagement with research transcripts alongside the new perspectives that I-poems have brought to the fore in my research with disabled cyclists. First, I-poems highlighted aspects of participants’ subjectivity that I had been less aware of during thematic analysis, such as the strength of both joy and anxiety in Rosie’s account, alongside her determination and openness to new possibilities. In Eric’s account, the I-poem revealed a softer more vulnerable voice which was barely audible in the interview transcript and which I would have otherwise overlooked.
The I-poems also articulated two aspects of the broader context of disabled people’s lives with a force which surprised me. I am highly politicised about disability in my life and my work, and yet it was the I-poems which pinpointed the power dynamics which enforce restrictive control over the lives of people with disabilities. In Rosie’s case, this was revealed when her diagnosis of bone cancer constituted something enabling and exciting; something which gave her access to life-changing surgery – a knee replacement – which she was otherwise denied. In Rob’s case, the poem highlighted how chronically disabling it is to be refused permission to cycle. His cycle transformed him from someone who could not move more than 50 metres to someone who could travel 111 km in 1 day using his own body. This contrast in Rob’s I-poem also alerted me to some of the limitations of being an insider researcher. Thus, notwithstanding the politics of disability research and ‘nothing about us without us’, in this case, my identification with Rob’s experiences made them less remarkable to me than perhaps they might have been to someone without lived experience. The I-poems, therefore, powerfully revealed the participants’ and my own subjectivities and shed new light on the data.
The power of the I-poems led me to consider further potential developments of their analytic and representational possibilities. I am experimenting with multi-voice, topic themed I-poems to explore the emotional impacts of the social, material and legal/policy barriers to cycling for people with disabilities. I have also considered using I-poems as a means of reflecting on my practice in research interviews. As I scanned the transcripts for I-statements, I began to notice a significant amount of them in my own dialogue. I wondered how my I-statements would speak in poetic form and what I might learn about myself as a researcher in the process of constructing them. Interviewer I-poems could be a powerful means to engage with our researcher-selves and practices – although it would take significant courage to publish them, especially in the current metrics-oriented research climate. This climate also impacted on my experience of working with I-poems. I found the work itself intriguing, joyful, energising and inspiring, that is, an ideal intellectual and emotional environment for producing original work. Even so, I also often felt guilty about pursuing this process, feeling it was some kind of whimsical self-indulgence rather than a ‘serious’ research endeavour – even though the process has transformed my engagement with, and understanding of, my research data. Moreover, nearly 20 years ago Richardson (2000) persuasively argued that writing in itself is ‘a method of inquiry’ and that, ‘setting words together in new configurations lets us see and feel in new dimensions’ (p. 933). However, in a metrics-based culture, writing is reduced to a technical function which is only valued in terms of quantified (four star) outputs. The critical, creative, innovative and self-reflective possibilities which emerge through the process of writing are at odds with the values of corporatised academia. Thus, my anxieties about my work with I-poems, which are signalled in a tightening behind my ribs, are embodied evidence of the self-policing that I have somehow become indoctrinated with despite my passionate belief in considered, in-depth ‘slow scholarship’ (Mountz et al., 2015) and my disdain for the ableist, patriarchal values which privilege ‘hard’ data, ‘big’ impact and ‘rapid results’.
In addition to these anxieties, I have also worried about how I might justify this seeming indulgence to my research participants and partner organisation, and whether or not they would ‘approve’ of this use of my time and our data. However, I have, ultimately, remained ‘slow’ in accordance with my conviction that work which promotes thinking and reflection and which takes shape via non-linear processes must be valued and respected, as it is these practices which enable us to engage deeply, critically and empathically with our work. These multifaceted and in-depth engagements reveal not only the inequalities and injustices that restrict peoples’ lives, but also the creativity, determination, strength and vulnerability that people embody to live, and work, against them.
Footnotes
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) received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.