I think I can safely speak for myself and my cohort members when I say that the average Laidlaw scholar sets extremely high expectations for their research only to be at least slightly humbled with how much one can reasonably accomplish in 6 weeks. Coupling this with the fact that most of us have never completed a self-directed research project, I don’t know many scholars whose projects haven’t greatly changed or haven’t been somewhat disillusioned by their research.
My research analyses the impact of a music program, StAMP Discovering Brass, implemented in the P6 level (pupils age 10) of eight primary schools across economically diverse Fife Scotland. The University music centre received funding to create the program with the aim to reinvigorate the culture of British Brass bands. I’m trying to understand exactly why this social capital is declining in popularity with young people. Consequently, I went into primary schools and interviewed representatives of the project, for which I had to receive ethical approval from the university. After a grueling couple of library days of filling out ethics paperwork, I believed that this was the end of my bout with ethics.
To conduct focus groups and interviews, I needed the necessary consent paperwork to be completed. I sent mounds of the paperwork to the schools around a month ahead of the first focus group. This included a participant information sheet, one for adults and one for the parent/guardian of the pupils, a consent form for the pupils, a letter to the school, and a letter to the parents. I recognized how intimidating it was. However, every document was essential and in the original university-recommended format. My advisor and I knew that schools would be busy when we visited and that we’d have to be diligent about contacting teachers.
Upon arrival at my first primary school, my supervisor and I were confronted with the bleak reality of working with primary schools in June. At best, my research project was at the bottom of the teacher’s priority list-- a reality I’d naively and solipsistically overlooked. Although we managed to haphazardly fix issues along the way by circling back to each school, it was quite constant that a school had lost our paperwork or not distributed it to the pupils at all upon our first visit to the schools. There were several times that we’d left a school with only a handful of pupils whose parents had consented for focus groups, no interviews with anyone else, and no surveys. My advisors and I ended up making multiple trips to each school to ensure that we conducted ethical research (by the University’s standards).
In my first paperwork ambush to the schools, I grossly ignored the fact that even if parents received the original paperwork, they would be receiving six pages of consent forms and participant information sheets. Any busy parent (which is every parent) will look at six pages and think they’re signing their child away. All my research required was asking pupils anonymously in a completely optional setting “how did you feel about playing the trumpet?”
After my struggle that began with ethical approval and ended with the University of St Andrews becoming synonymous with paperwork across the Fife primary schools, I came out of my data collection with a quarter of the data I was hoping to have.
This is by no means to say that the schools or parents were at fault but rather demonstrates the importance of a researcher leveling with their environment and expecting things to go wrong. We as researchers are privileged to have the time and resources with the intention to expand knowledge or improve the community in some way. If we do not work to fully understand the environments and people that we work with and accommodate them as much as possible, research becomes ignorant and misguided.
My naivety also encapsulated what I defined as research. Researching within the arts gives me flexibility to use my errors to fuel my project. The fact that there was such a disconnect with the university reaching parents to encourage their children to participate in a focus group demonstrates where StAMP can improve its impact. If the goal is to encourage children to participate in a brass program, yet we fail to communicate, it is emblematic of where the program fails in leading children to the next level in music.
Further, this demonstrates how ill-fitted university institutional procedures can be (myself being included a part of the university). If the university aims to solve issues in the community, it must recognize how seemingly mundane activities continue to develop a barrier between the image of the university and the actual community of Fife and beyond. Had I recognized the community I was dealing with and edited the paperwork accordingly rather than working out of fear of not meeting the university ethical approval standards, we would’ve had much better response results. Even though the university can call my research completely ethical, I struggle to see how a process that deems research ethical can be so if it results in me not being able to reach a large population.
While the shock that I will not produce the next great solution in the music education community did demolish my expectations, no amount of preparation would have led me to my conclusions and growth as much as the unexpected problems I faced while dealing with a topic I deeply care about. As researchers, we must look beyond our tunneled-visioned goals to understand the deeper problems that we face.
I'd like to thank Lord Laidlaw, the Laidlaw foundation for their support in my work. Thank you to my supervisors, Bede Williams and Ellen Thomson, for their constant advice. I’d also like to express sincere gratitude to my fellow researchers for their kindness as they listened to me discuss this topic endlessly.