questionable judgment calls

Interview number four today. I am going to take a break with interviewing for a couple weeks so that I can get into the analysis a bit. In grounded theory, the data is analysed as it is being gathered. So, rather than conduct all data up front, I collect data, analyse it, and eventually the data will become redundant and I won't get any new information. This point is referred to as saturation. Because I have now conducted four interviews (five including the pilot, which I am not going to use in the study) it is necessary for me to analyse this data before I go much further. When I resume interviewing, I hope to analyse each interview as soon as I finish transcribing it, rather than wait until I have a batch of interviews to do all at once. Also, doing it this way will help me to determine what areas of men's experiences of miscarriage I might want to look out for and possibly delve into more during future interviews.

I am finding it fascinating to pay attention to the anecdotes that precede the interviews I have with participants. Today's began with this fellow, who is a train conductor, telling me about an incident that happened years ago when a van tried to go around the lowered railroad crossing gates and was hit head-on by a train he was conducting. In spite of ending up underneath a washing machine that had been in the rear of his vehicle, the driver lived. Seven years after the accident, there was a deposition wherein he was questioned about the accident. He recalled being asked what color the van was and responded that he remembered it being blue. However, the inquirer called him out and stated that, seven years prior, he had stated that it was a white van. The participant told me all this while trying to remember specific answers to the questions on the demographic, such as what the gestational age of the baby was at the time of miscarriage.

The interview lasted for about 45 minutes, which seemed to be a good length for the participant and certainly enough time for me. Today's interview was an interesting contrast to Monday's for me personally. Whereas a part of me had wished Monday's to go on further, another part (I feel confident that they were not the same part of myself) wanted to end today's interview at least three times. Despite this inner compulsion, I waited until it appeared that the participant was done sharing and, ultimately, I am very glad that I did because he shared some tremendous personal information with me that I would not have heard had I heeded that scared part of myself.

The dynamic of today's interview was different than the past three interviews. Today, the participant asked me questions some of which I answered. So, I therefore became more involved than I would have preferred now that I am more aware of the potential for influencing data in this way during the interview. I think this was partly what made me want to end the interview a few times; I was concerned that he was going to ask me a question about my response to Sarah's miscarriage and that I would be cornered into answering it. There were a couple times that I can recall now where he asked me personal questions about our miscarriage that I was able to avoid answering, though there were also times when I nodded an acknowledgment as if to say, "yes I understand" when, in fact, I had not had that particular experience at all. (How much impact does a nod or gesture have?) I was afraid that, by not responding to his questions more readily, he might assume I was sitting in judgement of him. He made a few comments that I interpreted as his concern about being judged, either by himself or me. And honestly, perhaps there was a part of me that was judging him. Whether as a defense mechanism or for some other unknown reason, I could very well have been judging his response. Actually, now that I am reflecting on it, yeah, there were moments when some voice inside of me commented on his story as he was telling me. Most of his story was very different from mine and I think about halfway through the interview he recognized how different our stories were. Throughout the interview, I tried to be aware of my body position (uncrossing my arms when they crossed) and sensing the expression on my face because, well, this interview was tense for me, and I wanted to minimize how much of this tension manifested so as not to influence his responses to my questions. However, I can imagine this may have exacerbated his sense that I was judging him, if this was indeed something he felt from me. It's interesting how concerned I was of being judged while simultaneously concerned that he not think I was judging him.

He and I talked about some of this after the interview because I wanted it to be clear to him that there were moments (and there were some) when I did want to respond to his questions but was trying not to entangle my experience with his. I even told him that I had been concerned that he had interpreted my silence and minimal expression as judgment upon him. He said he understood and suggested that perhaps with future participants I explain why I try not to respond and talk about it with them beforehand. I think this is a good idea and would certainly alleviate some pressure I have experienced while interviewing, but I wonder: how would being up front about this impact the participant's story? It has got to have an impact of some degree.

I would like to state that I was very touched by the degree of respect this participant had for his wife and his intention to maintain her privacy.