An Opportunity To Speak Out: Sharing in a Research Methods Class

I was invited by a colleague to discuss my dissertation research methods with Graduate students last night. Although she asked for 60-minutes, it quickly turned into a two-hour session and, cautiously, I kept looking for eye contact to tell me, "Oh, You should end here." It didn't come. Instead, the students and instructor graciously allowed me to reflect with them on the qualitative research I did with 8 African-born young men and their writing in and out-of school.

Although the research was set within a six-month parameter, it really was built from 15 years of work in public schools and two years of living with and around relocated populations of central New York. I got my title from Najm, a Somali-born youth, who noted that he wrote outside of school because he had a responsibility to speak out about his history and experiences with American schools. I addressed with the class, too, that I feel responsible for speaking about their stories, as well. I also am, however, cautious about being the one who shares what they invested with me. The work was ethnography and it was their worlds - complicated histories and global truths; I was a guest to their perspectives and privileged to have schooling behind me that allowed me to communicate what they entrusted in me.

I left the class really thinking about community and the strong relationships that we built over time. I continue to feel a tremendous responsibility to offer their insight to others, but I drove home wondering if I'm capable of honoring the work that took place between us and if I need to revisit my mission with all the data that I collected. There is a tremendous amount to be said and whenever I do an oral representation of the work, I realize how compelling the stories of these boys are. I carry much of it in my heart and they've made a tremendous impact on my teaching, career, and philosophy. I really am me because of who we were/are together.

I need to take their knowledge to another level. They deserve this. I need to wrestle more with Father Time and efficiently work harder. Presenting last night, I realized all the boys are four years older than the time when I collected wisdom from them. I'm four years older, too.

I owe them. They changed my life forever.