Doing Ethnography and Participant Reflections
Ethnographic methods are less commonly understood than other disciplinary approaches. In the first section of this blog, Dr Adeline Moussion Esteve writes about this process from her perspective, and how she adapted the methods to fit with what was comfortable for each participant. Following that, our participants Jamie, Adalet and Rudhek (pseudonyms) share why they wanted to take part in the ethnography. They describe what taking part looks like for them, the kinds of conversations they are having with Adeline, and why it matters to them.
Doing Ethnography – Dr Adeline Moussion Esteve
In my previous research on sexual violence and domestic abuse, I had drawn on two approaches: attention to what French anthropologist Jeanne Favret-Saada (1969) calls ‘non-intentional conversation’, and an approach to sexual violence that avoids direct questioning about violent events (Veena Das, 2006). The reason for working with these approaches was to document how people articulate their experiences in ordinary language and in relation to their own concerns. However, this particular project has required combining this approach with a more active form of questioning.
Dr Baljit Kaur and I met with the LEAG to identify broad thematic areas that could serve as prompts, allowing participants to narrate their lives on their own terms. These themes were matched with the relevant scholarship and organised into a thematic grid. Our anticipation was that we would be having loose conversations, informed by these themes. However, when meeting potential participants, it became clear that many were keen to engage in repeated recorded interviews. As such, they expected the ethnographer to take a more active role than we had initially anticipated.
The interview format that shapes most of my ethnographic encounters differs from my earlier methodological practice. I have found this approach very interesting, and also effective in applying ethnographic and feminist principles of situated dialogue and iterative understanding through working across differences. In this process, I ask questions to elicit detail from the ordinary dimensions of everyday life. I also experiment with making my own thought processes visible, discussing what I have been reading, and bringing into each conversation insights gained from previous encounters with the other research interlocutors. Being this active also supports the feminist ethical principles of naming injustices and making explicit the forms that violence takes—whether structural, relational, or internalised, as expressed in the contributions from my interlocutors.
Jamie
I’ve never taken part in research before, which meant I wasn’t sure what to expect. To be honest I think some days I’m still not sure what to expect, but that’s part of living with complex trauma as every session I have with Adeline can leave me wondering if what we’ve talked about has been helpful to the research.
It was really interesting to me to be part of this project, to explore what it means to be a survivor and how it impacts all aspects of life and perhaps open up new ways of thinking about recovery, support and living with the aftermath of child sexual abuse. What I didn’t expect was how much I would gain from our conversations. I have regular therapy but this definitely is not therapy. It is a wide ranging conversation that alongside the more difficult themes includes really important topics like the Real Housewives franchise! It also has involved meeting up, going for walks, spending time outside of my home. All things that I can struggle to do, so having a specific reason and purpose in those activities has helped give me a focus on the weekends we meet up.
For me talking about my past openly has only been happening for a relatively short time, which means outside of therapy the conversations I’m having as part of this research feel quite alien. I question if I would be able to have them at all if I didn’t think that I was somehow helping with a wider goal. It feels clear to me that already I have benefited from this power of connection, a space to try and open up the parts of me no one else sees. All in the interests of the research though – that’s what I have to tell myself for that to sit comfortably.
There is no doubt I will still worry that what I’m providing isn’t helpful, or correct or even what the research is about! But I am impressed with Adeline’s skill in navigating this minefield of doubts and fears in me and I’m sure many others. I am curious about how it will all come together and where the themes emerge between all of our input. And I hope my step into sharing more openly will help me going forward in being less afraid with my truth.
Adalet
Being part of this research has shown me how important it is to look closely at the systems we rely on. Many of the challenges survivors face are not one‑off events; they are sustained by long‑standing structural issues that repeat themselves across housing, healthcare, policing, and other public services. These patterns don’t disappear on their own. They continue unless they are named, recorded, and understood.
This is why involvement and research matter. When survivors contribute their experiences, it creates a clearer picture of how systems function, where they drift, and where repair is needed. Good communication, careful listening, and accurate recording are not small details; they are essential tools for building awareness and improving practice.
For me, taking part in this project is a way of contributing to change. It allows my experiences to inform a broader understanding of systemic harm and helps shape conversations about how institutions can respond with greater accountability, clarity, and care.
Rudhek
When I was asked to write this for the newsletter, my mind immediately went to the idea of community, as it often does. Even though I have not met the others taking part in this study, I feel a kinship with them, and it feels like something bigger than just telling someone the events of my life.
I have been able to talk about my experience with my closest friends, but only in the vaguest of terms. Everyone I know who was socialised as a girl has a story (or stories) of sexual assault and harassment. But we don’t go into details. I don’t think any of my friends were also abused children but I don’t know for sure. When we have these conversations we don’t want to bring each other down so we don’t pry, we just listen and believe. I think it’s disgusting that we all have these stories, and they need to be told.
Being able to talk about what happened is not cathartic and does not make me feel better. It makes me angry, and I want to make a change. I think framing the discussions around “recovery” made me realise the ongoing process of fighting back, even just to live a good, ‘normal’ life. I think it’s important for people to understand that struggle, and that it is an ongoing process that takes constant vigilance and energy not to return to patterns of grieving and self blame.
This process has also allowed me to think about the multiple and compounding injustices many of us face. Poverty, neuro-divergence, adverse childhood experiences such as bullying. All of these make it impossible to consider the “what if…” of never having to experience CSA. Often our lives were never going to be easy. And we have to consider the high likelihood of sexual assault throughout our lives, possibly made higher by our experiences.
Going back to the topic of my friends, I think we need to emphasise the importance of community, not for recovery but our ongoing survival. I don’t know my fellow participants but I hope they have even some of the support that I have. It’s nice not to feel alone in this, but I hate that there are so many of us.
Many thanks to our research participants, Jamie, Adalet and Rudhek for contributing to the Spring Issue of the Recovery Histories newsletter, and our blog.
