Introduction
In recent years, duoethnography has shown increased utilization across the social sciences, humanities, and health professions (Ashlee & Quaye, 2020; Dunn & Ly-Donovan, 2021; Fox & Gasper, 2020; MacDonald & Markides, 2019; Shelton & McDermott, 2015). Intended to prompt introspection and critical reflexivity, this collaborative research methodology invites researchers to “model a state of perpetual inquiry” (Norris & Sawyer, 2012, p. 17) in the presence of another. In duoethnography, the researchers are simultaneously participants, coming together to engage in conversational dialogue about a social phenomenon of mutual interest, and through a process of juxtaposition, work together to untangle and disrupt one’s own assumptions while paying heed to the broader meta narratives influencing how they see themselves and the social reality of others (Norris, 2008; Sawyer & Norris, 2013). Dialogue is a crucial component to duoethnography. Through descriptive narration, stories, and examples, researchers chronicle their lived experiences, avoiding unnecessary or distracting language so readers “can insert their own narrative alongside (or against) those juxtaposed by the duoethnographers” (Schultz, 2017, p. 508).
Over the past 10 years, we have collaborated on different duoethnographic inquiries to explore our formative experiences working in Indigenous education (Burleigh & Burm, 2013; Burm & Burleigh, 2017) and more recently, to critically reflect upon the practice of allyship (Burm & Burleigh, 2022). We gravitated to duoethnography for its invitational quality, encouraging us to engage in critical self-study with an aim to changing perspective (Norris et al., 2012). Duoethnography was our refuge at times when our personal and professional worlds felt unwieldy. It was within these dialogic spaces that our emotions, observations, and insecurities ran carefree, spilling from our head and hearts.
We are unabashed about our affection for duoethnography. Eventually, however, our engagement in duoethnography piqued a curiosity about the unseen and unspoken enactments of this methodology. We began to wonder, what attracts researchers to this unique collaborative research genre. How does the dialogical process unfold for other researchers? How do researchers navigate discordant opinions during their discussions? While several texts exemplify the utilization of duoethnography and offer insights into what this methodology can reveal (Brown, 2015; Kidd & Finlayson, 2015; Norris, 2008; Norris et al., 2012; Sawyer & Norris, 2013), we struggled to locate a specific scholarly resource addressing as its primary focus the actual conduct of doing duoethnography and how it is uniquely enacted.
We explicitly address this methodological gap, making visible what perhaps is taken for granted by more seasoned duoethnographers: the relational negotiation of conducting a duoethnography, or more simply, the doing of duoethnography. We are not proposing a preferred way to go about conducting a duoethnography, for doing so “would be antithetical to [duoethnography’s] dialogic nature” (Norris & Sawyer, 2012, p. 24). Rather, we are responding to existing calls in the qualitative research community urging for greater methodological transparency and clearer articulation of the duoethnographic process (Breault, 2016; Farquhar & Fitzpatrick, 2016). As more scholars engage in duoethnography, it becomes essential to revisit the underlying tenets of this methodology while simultaneously creating opportunities for learners to immerse themselves in examples of how this form of scholarship can be utilized. Herein we engage in critical conversations with one another, exploring the nuances of this unique research methodology while giving a form to ideas about duoethnography that remain seemingly invisible or abstract throughout the collaborative research process. In this article, we retrace our collective journey engaging in duoethnography, reflecting upon how our understanding and engagement with the methodology has shifted and expanded with each new immersion. This article serves as both a demonstration and resource for new and future duoethnographers seeking to broaden their research methodology repertoire.
Our Doing of Duoethnography
We have utilized Norris and Sawyer’s (2012) tenets of duoethnography. However, it is important to note that the tenets of duoethnography have developed and evolved over time. Norris (2008) initially identified four tenets which included, (1) the avoidance of a prescriptive approach, (2) making individual voice explicit, (3) that a change of perspective is central, and (4) that differences are a strength. In 2012, Norris & Sawyer further expanded to nine tenets.
1. Life as a curriculum
2. Polyvocal and dialogic
3. Deliberate juxtaposition
4. Differences are articulated and discussed to interrogate and disrupt stories
5. Question meanings held about the past to invite reconceptualization
6. Universal truths are not sought
7. A form of praxis
8. An ethical stance is a negotiated space
9. Deep layers of trust grow over time and allow disclosure and rigorous conversation
As we centralized the nine tenets of duoethnography (Norris & Sawyer, 2012) we engaged in dialogues that constitute the primary sources of data presented in this paper. To stimulate and anchor our conversation, we generated five essential methodological questions;
1. What initially drew you to duoethnography?
2. How does your duoethnographic process begin?
3. What is the dynamic of your duoship?
4. What constitutes data in duoethnography and how is meaning made?
5. How does a duoethnographic process conclude?
These questions were first inspired by calls for methodological clarity from other duoethnographers, specifically, early pioneers and adopters of the duoethnographic method (Breault, 2016; Norris, 2008; Norris et al., 2012; Sawyer & Norris, 2013). For example, Breault (2016) called for duoethnographers to establish an integral methodological core and a clearer definition of the roles and relationships of duoethnographers. Further, Latz and Murray (2012) questioned the attributes of a good duo partner as well as the accountability and trust necessary to engage in duoethnography. The second source of inspiration were our graduate students. We work closely with graduate students, be it through thesis supervision or teaching research methodology courses and wanted to capture and represent their frequently asked questions and the tensions that they regularly contend with in their early exploration of and engagement in duoethnography.
We engaged in generative and critical dialogue across several modes of communication including email, text messaging, and audio recorded zoom sessions. After each dialogical exchange we transcribed and archived our conversation, frequently revisiting the previous discussion to reflect upon the prominent themes that emerged from our discussions. More questions quickly arose, reading followed, active listening, and talking resumed. Between these intensive dialogues, we took breaks for individual deliberation to further consider the direction of our duoethnography, revisiting the five essential questions often. What follows is the textual representation of our dialogue in response to each of the five essential questions.
What Initially Drew You to Duoethnography?
D: My first thought is that it’s fun! It makes me feel like I’m sitting across the kitchen table having a chat with a good friend who cares about what I care about and equally wants to engage in meaningful conversation and reflect upon our common experiences. But when I think more deeply about what attracts me to duoethnography, it’s the same things that might spur me to engage in meaningful conversation with my partner or a close friend: I crave the opportunity to better understand something important about myself, the other person, or the world. Duoethnography satisfies the part of me that wants to feel better understood, understand others better, and be connected to those around me. I inherently value research partnerships and processes that facilitate a sense of connection. I want the research that I engage in to do more than fulfill an intellectual or scholarly function. I want the research to change how I see and interact with my students, with my colleagues, and with the world at large. Duoethnography provides me with a safe and fertile setting to learn about something new.
S: I think my love affair with duoethnography stems from its transformative quality of building connection – both a connection with myself and with my research partner. What I also appreciate is the value duoethnography places on self-examination and dialogue, letting it take center stage! Critical introspection is not something that’s tucked behind a curtain or neatly packaged into a few sentences within a section of a manuscript labeled ‘reflexivity’. For me, personally, duoethnography is a sacred place where I can close the door on the chaos of the outside world and just be present with my jumbled, complicated thoughts. It is a place where I can laugh, cry, doubt, and lend support, serving as a witness to another person’s humanness.
D: Perhaps what also attracts me to duoethnography is its rebellious nature. For a long time, duoethnography was considered (and in many ways still is) a fringe methodology, resisting some of the more traditional research standards for ensuring rigor and trustworthiness. It’s thrilling to be a part of a research movement that pushes the boundaries of what constitutes scholarship in novel, provocative, and challenging ways.
How does your duoethnographic process begin?
S: Differently every single time! In all seriousness though, our process usually begins with casual conversation about an interesting or important topic of mutual interest. If I recall correctly, our last duoethnography came to fruition after several lengthy conversations about the social and ethical complexities of being an ally to Indigenous peoples. Other times, moments of tension or uncertainty fuel new inquiries. Then it seems we move into an excavation exercise of sorts-unearthing firmly established traditions or assumptions each of us hold about a certain topic, revisiting pertinent lived experiences, gently enquiring about one another’s motivations, responses, and feelings, ensuring each of us have a chance to speak, are listened to carefully and treated with respect and compassion.
D: Yes, there is always some degree of variability in how we initiate a new duoethnography, but I think for us, the process begins with our dynamic. We talk about our teaching and research pursuits even when we are not formally conducting this type of research. Ideas for future inquiries grow organically. Often it is a problem posed or a challenge we are facing – which is why I think the transformative capacity of duoethnography is so attractive to both of us. For me, the dialogic method assists me in thinking differently, especially when the way I am thinking about something is not serving me anymore. We begin with experience.
S: Usually a nagging experience, something we cannot just shake off and move past. It is as though the experience keeps whispering into our ear asking us to engage. Through dialogue we begin to give meaning to our collective experiences, with the hopes of not necessarily extinguishing that little voice reverberating within us, but to at least make peace with it. Remember in our first collaboration (Burleigh & Burm, 2013) when I shared the story of how I struggled in my first year of teaching to have my students walk in a straight line? I equated the inability of my students to walk in a line with my perceived shortcomings as a teacher. I remember thinking to myself, if I can’t master the single file line, how will I ever handle the ‘really hard stuff’ teachers encounter? It wasn’t until we started talking about that incident and others from our first few years of teaching that I realized my definition of a ‘good’ teacher’ was deeply entangled in a desire for power and authority. I naively assumed the behaviours I was familiar with and desired to see my students perform (assembling into a straight line) would seamlessly translate into my new teaching context. Having you there to listen, question, and process with was instrumental in enabling me to push past my frustration and shame. I would never have arrived at this realization if we hadn’t carved out space for self-reflection and dialogue.
D: This also might be an opportune time to acknowledge that conducting a duoethnography for the first time will unfold differently compared to someone who regularly dialogues and writes with the same research partner. In beginning a duoship, there would need to be some conversation around how the dialogic process will unravel. Even when individuals have previously worked together, explicit conversation around one another’s expectations, availability, etc. will still likely occur.
S: Absolutely! I think it’s important to emphasize that there is no singular or preferred way to proceed through duoethnography. It really comes down to personal preference and circumstance, the comfortability each person brings to discussing the topic of focus, and the willingness to advocate for yourself when uncomfortable or unfamiliar emotions begin creeping in. Being able to explicitly name the emotions or feelings you are experiencing at any given moment is integral to cultivating a trustworthy and safe dialogical space. I would add that paying attention to the non-verbal cues that your research partner is exhibiting is equally important. Particularly for duoships where you can be in the same physical place to dialogue, being attuned to how your research partner describes an experience, is many times more impactful than what they are communicating. Thinking back to our first duoethnography, I remember my mind going blank when I felt I needed to be ‘on’ for our conversations. I found myself overthinking the process, wondering whether what I had to say made sense. There were moments where you literally had to call a timeout and we just stopped. Sometimes these pauses were for a day or a week, and sometimes we did not return to the dialogue for months. That’s an important caveat to the methodology because it’s not necessarily going to be a process that unfolds in a systematic, predictable manner. When you are both the researcher and the researched, as is the case with duoethnography, there must be time built into the process for respite.
D: I totally agree. Advance preparation is also a key component to how we get started. We frequently draft notes of general themes we want to explore with each other or questions we want to ask one another. Sketching out a rough framework at the outset of our inquiry works for us because we prefer an anchor point, but duoethnography can also unfold with much less structure and formality. Arts-based approaches such as the use of drawings or photographs can also easily be weaved into the dialogic exchange.
S: And what might work for one person in the duoship, might not work for the other. It is okay to experiment and tinker with different ways of communicating your thoughts and ideas to your partner. Sometimes, the dialogue within the duo is sparked by an outside text influence – a poem, news article, blog post, journal article, podcast, artwork– the possibilities are endless!
What Is The Dynamic of Your Duoship?
S: Between the two of us, you are typically the idea generator. How many times have you sent me a text or email with the words “I have an idea” or “I have been thinking about our next project and I think we could do [insert fabulous idea here]. What do you think?” I take longer to warm up to ideas. It is not necessarily reluctance toward the idea, but I need time for ideas to marinade. Whereas you are more a let’s dive in kind of person and see where the inquiry takes us. I tend to zoom in on the details and you take more of an aerial perspective.
D: We do tend to have certain roles that we take up – but they are certainly not static. We balance each other out and maybe that’s why duoethnography works for us. Sometimes we also mirror each other – we tend to agree on a lot of things, which is something we must be cautious of.
I am also mindful that everything we have written about we literally experienced together at the same time in the same geographic place. But then each of us moved to new provinces and although we still shared similar experiences, our context was notably different, and I think our dialogues grew richer since we had distinct differences to bring to the table. It makes me wonder what it would be like to work with someone I don’t know. Duoethnography reveals a lot about who someone is and the way they think.
S: I honestly don’t think I would ever consider engaging in duoethnography with someone I did not know on a personal level. I think it comes back to trust. Do I trust this person enough to disclose my deepest insecurities or to admit that I am unsure what I think about X topic anymore? Is this someone who I feel I can confide in when I am feeling ‘off’, frustrated, uninspired, or uncertain? Each duoethnography has its own ecosystem of thoughts, emotions, processes, starts, and stops.
D: Trust is key but also considering power dynamics. I feel like we don’t hold power over each other really. Imagine doing duoethnography with someone who could make decisions about your career or life trajectory – the real talk would be less real, I think.
What Constitutes Data In Duoethnography and How Is Meaning Made?
D: So, I know I posed this question but now as I consider it, what strikes me most is the rigidity of research design and understanding of methodology (perhaps even my own rigidity is demonstrated here by the fact that I’ve asked this question in particular). As though having a section on “data” is the standard practice along with the other sections of a traditional paper like an introduction, literature review, results, and discussion sections. However, posing this question is intentional and aligned with the interconnected nature of data and meaning making that occurs across other forms of qualitative research. Specifically, in duoethnography, Sawyer and Liggett (2012) point out that “the inquiry process is the product, and the ‘findings’ emerge as co-constructions within the various dialogic transactions” (p. 643). In other words, data can be produced, as meaning is simultaneously made. Separating them out would be artificial and a disservice to the process, in my opinion. I do think this is a good question to consider. It is part of understanding the nuance of duoethnography because often in papers or conference submissions there is an expectation that you outline the sources of your data.
S: Your observation is spot on. In fact, it might be that your response leads us to acknowledge prevalent assumptions about qualitative research more generally. One example that stands out is this notion that reflective inquiry, as we see in such approaches like autoethnography or duoethnography are just a means to engage in excessive self-contemplation. The navel-gazing! You and I both know that these methodologies offer much more, but it can be trying to disrupt this perception.
D: In short, the data is the dialogue, both in its product, as you see here in this article, but also the raw data I suppose which can result from the process. Any type of archived material that is produced, be it emails, text messages, recordings, audio notes, artwork, can be regarded as data in duoethnography. The process of finding meaning in the data is not unlike other data analysis processes. There is a “mining” of sorts, where you seek out what prevalent themes help answer your research question, demonstrate key, interesting, or unanticipated ideas. Asking what constitutes data also begs the question, how do you analyze the data or generate meaning from the data? Even that shift in language from ‘analyze’ to ‘make meaning’ aligns with duoethnography. Like other research approaches, duoethnography has its own language. And the use of that language speaks to the essence of the methodology. For me, I am instantly rejuvenated when I think of making meaning of our dialogues. I feel compressed when I think of analyzing the data of our dialogues. Language matters when we talk about data, and analysis, it matters that we call it dialogue and making meaning. What comes to mind for you?
S: When I think of data, I think of something I have to collect, or as you say ‘mine’ to find answers to the questions I am asking. In other research methodologies, this approach to data collection and analysis encourages the researcher to maintain some distance from the phenomenon. For example, the term ‘bracketing’ is sometimes used in qualitative research, meaning the process by which the researcher sets aside personal experiences, knowledge, preconceived notions, etc. About the research focus. The greater the distance between researcher and participant, the more credible the findings (or at least this is what is implied). I personally do not think this is possible or a reasonable ask of the researcher and to be quite honest, often a disservice to the participant. Perhaps this is also why I am drawn to duoethnography because I desire to be so intimately involved in the generation and analysis of data. As you said, the data is the dialogue and that’s a liberating space to enter. Duoethnography doesn’t make me feel as though I am contaminating the research process. Rather, the researcher is integral to the research process.
D: Although I agree about being intimately involved, I do think it is important to address that many qualitative studies and methodologies have a traditional analysis section where the researchers make meaning of the data and explain its importance with the support of a theoretical position and often this might look like a findings or results section of a paper. In this more traditional format, the data is presented separately from the analysis or results section and is often done so for the purposes of clarity in writing and adherence to common stylistic expectations. But with duoethnography, I find the flexibility offered in the writing allows for a closer representation of how data and analysis realistically interact throughout the research process. Data is often both generated and analyzed at the same time and new insights emerge over time, in the case of duoethnography, through dialogue. The meaning making is not isolated to a single section of the research article.
S: I think what is challenging with more conventional qualitative research studies is that we are often asked to separate out our analysis from the broader aims of the study. Everything must be packaged into boxes or fall under neat sub-headings that, depending on the inquiry, can feel suffocating and inauthentic to the research process. Duoethnography affords us a fluidity to experiment with formats new to us, in ways that are more in alignment to how the process unfolded, which in some circumstances may mean moving beyond the more traditional structure of qualitative research. And when I say traditional structure, I am thinking about my early learning about qualitative research design and methodology and reading of core research texts by methodologists like Creswell (2014), Leavy (2017), and Patton (2002). The procedures for conducting specific types of qualitative research studies were so often laid out in step-by-step format and included lists and templates of what should be included and in what order. While helpful when first learning how to read and conduct research, the design of these texts equally risks making qualitative research appear too prescriptive. Duoethnography can almost feel liberating at times because it affords us the opportunity to be both critical and creative and expand the scholarly norms in qualitative research.
How Does A Duoethnographic Process Conclude?
D: When you think about our process, what things happen for us to know that we are wrapping up?
S: We come to a natural culmination in our thinking. A tapering off of new insights and ideas. Also, new questions arise that are outside the scope of the current project. We seem to get more excited about future research projects than the inquiry in front of us, signaling to me that it’s time to move on.
D: We come to an unspoken understanding of one another, and as you said, the dialogue just naturally tapers. That is a good way of saying it rather than using the word concludes, like we used in the question. Because the duoship never truly ends. It is important that we distinguish between a duoethnography being done for the purposes of publication and the dialogue or relational element ending. The ending of the dialogue doesn’t mean the end of the duoethnography because we write and work in a relational way and that continues beyond the pages of the written product.
S: If we are talking about a paper for publication, even when the writing is done you will receive reviewer comments and then more dialogue will naturally unfold. If you are lucky, others will read and engage with your paper, spurring further dialogue. Maybe the word concludes is misleading.
D: Part of the “concluding” process for us is thinking about where we want this work to live. We consider questions like, where do we want to publish? Who might want to read this and how might they benefit? So, for us, part of the concluding or tapering off process is thinking about where to share, with who, and for what purpose. At this stage we are excited to invite others into the dialogue.
S: Now, if you asked us about our process for a previous project, we might have a completely different response. How the process looks for one pair of researchers might be different for another. The topic will also influence the denouement.
D: The idea that we come to newfound enlightenment as our duoethnography process tapers aligns with duoethnography’s transformational spirit. We hope to gain insights that propel us into a new direction. Another thing we do toward the end of our duoethnography process is revisit our original intent for conducting this type of research. We also take inventory of the discoveries we made that perhaps were unplanned or unanticipated.
S: There is also the emotional element of wrapping up a duoethnography to consider. Some researchers might experience a sense of relief following their participation in duoethnography because the process can be both utterly compelling and emotionally wrenching. I think both of us just naturally gravitate to duoethnography for its cathartic effect but not everyone will be comfortable allowing their vulnerabilities to be exposed. And that’s okay.
D: Good point. That’s why the relational dynamic is so important when discussing past experiences and emotions. An indicator we are coming to a close on this project is that we are now interested in the next line of inquiry - which for us is more deeply exploring the duoship. That is one concrete example of a new interest we have and that is a signal to us that we are coming to a close on this line of inquiry. In the Latz and Murray (2012) chapter, Murray says that duo is explained but she “was itching to see it in action” (p.2) and I think this type of call or desire to see how duoethnography plays out is what essentially motivated us to explore these five essential questions. We wanted to transparently demonstrate what it looks like and sounds like when we do duoethnography.
S: And now we have a curiosity about how other people will respond or engage. We want to talk to more people now who read this and engage in duoethnographic work. We want to reach others and have broader dialogue and that is another signal that we are coming to an end. Whereas in the beginning you just want to grapple with one person who gets it or who has common experience and toward the end you want to share with others and see their responses.
D: Yes! One of the last lines in that Latz and Murray (2012) article is when Mandy Latz says, “perhaps we should end our now rather lengthy review here and move on to the next duoethnographic project prompted by this one” (p.7) and Jennifer says, “sounds good to me” (p.7). This type of conclusion is common across duoethnographic papers – they end with the next step or where they go from here.
Conclusion
Our dialogue demonstrates the complexities of duoethnography by modeling the polyvocal, dialogic nature of duoethnography while simultaneously addressing five essential questions of this collaborative research methodology. From philosophical alignment between research questions and methodological choices, to the production, analysis, and meaning making of duoethnographic data, this inquiry makes explicit the affordances and challenges of doing duoethnography. We encourage researchers to be as keenly engaged with the origins and evolutions of their methodological approaches as their topic or content focus.
We felt compelled to write a traditional conclusion to this paper. In our original outline, drafted nearly a year ago, we scribbled the following notes as a reminder to ourselves on what to focus on:
“Reiterate key ideas - what was the original purpose - how did we meet the stated purpose, why was it important. Overall reflection on the process - be explicit about what we did, why we did it, and what it means to ensure transparency for readers.”
Upon reflection, and after revisiting our dialogue in relation to the five essential questions posed, we realize a “traditional approach” to concluding the paper feels insincere and somewhat restrictive. More importantly this sense of insincerity is rooted in a misalignment between the dialogic spirit of the methodology and the tensions of qualitative research and discourse around what scholarly writing should look like.
D: Sincerity. That is one of the very practical advantages of doing a duoethnography for me. There is an affordance to be deeply aligned with a dialogic approach which is how I’m best able to learn and develop my ideas. Compared to other qualitative methodologies I have used, like case study, I find that duoethnography mirrors a more natural way of inquiring which is through deep and meaningful discussions with a trusted partner who understands my experiences but will still challenge me.
S: In terms of the practical advantages of duoethnography, there is a fluidity and flexibility to the methodology that enables me to change my mind and write more conversationally. With duoethnography, I can keep developing and transforming my thinking and I find it stays with me beyond the scholarly output.
D: So, are we wrapping up now, Sarah? I’m excited to start talking about plans for the next project!
S: Me too. I just have one last thing to say to our readers. We hope our retrospective review ignites in you a spark to pursue your own duoethnography, however that looks for you. We have provided a mere glimpse into what our duoethnography process looks and sounds like. However, don’t let our process dissuade you from blazing your own duoethnographic trail. We encourage you to embrace the uncertainty of the process, stay open-minded, and have fun!
