Being in the Field: Gendered Embodiment, Vulnerability, and Belonging
Disha Sharma
Doctoral Researcher, School of Education Studies,
Dr. B. R. Ambedkar University Delhi
Email: disha.sharma25.96@gmail.com
What does it mean to be vulnerable in the field? What does it mean to belong to the field? As a researcher, my experiences of vulnerability, anxiety, and belonging during fieldwork were closely tied to my identity, particularly my position as a queer individual. This raises critical questions: What does it mean to conduct research as a queer researcher? Is the vulnerability experienced in the field exclusive to the researcher, or do queer interlocutors also navigate their own forms of vulnerability? These questions do not have singular or fixed answers. Rather, they are shaped and continually reshaped by the specific contexts in which fieldwork takes place. Each field interaction brings its own subtleties of power, safety, and identity negotiation, meaning that the embodied experience of vulnerability is deeply contextual and subjective (Hanson & Richards, 2019). It is critical to note that reflecting and navigating positionalities in research is a sensitive, delicate, and reflective process (Cohen et al., 2011), especially when it comes to queerness. Simply stating, queering the ethnography obliges an open acknowledgement of one’s own subjectivities and emotional dispositions of the fieldwork (Rooke, 2010). These reflections become even more delicate as the risks associated with being visible, particularly in heteronormative locations, can sometimes be detrimental. I reflect upon these precarities by drawing from my 16-month-long ethnographic fieldwork, which focused on student life at a public university in a metropolitan city of India.
As a cis-passing researcher, my boundaries were violated significantly by male students, which constructed my fieldwork experience as distressing and vulnerable. I was subjected to personal questions that were not related to my field of study, often probing into my private life in ways that were deemed to be intrusive and inappropriate. In several instances, I was physically obstructed from leaving conversations, making me feel trapped and fragile. Additionally, I encountered offensive comments directed at me. The following vignette from my fieldwork, when some students were gathering to start a peace march, depicted the precarity of the circumstances:
I felt their eyes on me repeatedly, their glances making me uneasy. Their conversation took a disturbing turn when one male student, looking at me, said to his peer, “Ladkiya utha le?” [Should we pick up the girls?] Another responded, “Walk karwavenge ladkiyon se. Utha kar march karwaenge” [We will make the girls walk. We will pick them up and ask them to march], while also glancing in my direction. (Fieldnotes, September 9, 2022)
These experiences made me uncomfortable and scared, highlighting the power dynamics where there are the intersections of power, gender, and harassment. The exchange between the male students revealed casual misogyny with the normalisation of objectifying and dehumanising behaviour. The phrase “Ladkiya utha le?” [Should we pick up the girls?] highlighted how women are spoken about as objects to be acted upon, rather than as individuals with autonomy. This language of “picking up” girls conveyed an unsettling sense of entitlement over marginalised bodies, reducing them to be governed, domesticated, and manipulated. This showcased the vulnerability of being a cis-passing woman in a male-dominated fieldwork setting, where the male gaze and gender-insensitive comments created hostile and oppressive surroundings. The necessity to navigate these anxieties sheds light on the structural issues that often permeate research spaces, where the safety of marginalised individuals is frequently compromised; therefore, as I reflect on my positionality, I recognise the emotional labour involved in managing my identity while striving to maintain rapport with my interlocutors.
Being a queer researcher also facilitated deeper connections with interlocutors, particularly in the context of shared queer identities. During fieldwork, my queer-identifying interlocutors often expressed that being around other queer individuals provided them with a sense of relief and belonging. They suggested that the alienation and loneliness that came with being a queer person fuelled their desire for a queer belonging. In these moments, I found that my own queerness enabled me to form a genuine connection with my interlocutors; therefore, rather than approaching the fieldwork from a position of detached neutrality, I was actively involved in a process of mutual recognition, which was crucial in creating a space where interlocutors felt safe to express their queer experiences. By being open about my gender and sexual orientations, I facilitated a shared sense of queer belonging with interlocutors simply by being with one another, sharing our stories, desires, hesitations, and strategies for navigating our queer identities within the larger heteronormative contexts.
In one notable instance during the course of my fieldwork, Priya (pseudonym), a student, mentioned that she wanted to tell me something important but hesitated and postponed the conversation. A few weeks later, she invited me to sit with her and, despite her hesitations, she came out to me. She explained that she felt she could trust me, and that I was the second person she had come out to, the first being her best friend. This act of coming out was important because it gave me a realisation that we shared a deep sense of belonging, connection, camaraderie, care, and mutual trust. This moment demonstrated the emotional labour and vulnerability involved in building rapport in the field, particularly when engaging with marginalised identities. It also highlighted how the embodied situatedness of queerness, as both a personal and political identity, became a bridge between me and my interlocutors, allowing for a sense of belonging and understanding to blossom. This experience underscored the importance of cultivating an environment of safety and trust, where interlocutors felt seen and heard. By sharing my own queerness, I was not just a researcher observing from the outside; instead, I became an insider in the shared queer spaces.
In conclusion, the embodied experiences of being a queer researcher highlighted the threads that tie vulnerabilities to belongingness during fieldwork. Throughout my fieldwork, my queer identity became both a bridge and a barrier. On the one hand, it empowered deep connections with interlocutors, allowing us to share stories of alienation, longing, and companionship that emerged from our collective experiences as queer individuals. This collective sense of belonging proved fundamental in engendering a safe space for dialogue, enabling interlocutors to express their vulnerabilities without fear of judgment. However, the journey was not without its anxieties and vulnerabilities. Being perceived as cisgender woman, I encountered various forms of discomfort, harassment, and boundary-crossing from male students, which compelled me to conceal aspects of my identity for my own safety. This led me to reflect on the complexities of navigating my queer identity in a space where my safety felt compromised. The emotional labour involved in balancing my queer self with the necessity for protection within the larger heteronormative field setting underscored the challenges that queer researchers often face.
Bio: Disha Sharma is a doctoral researcher at the School of Education Studies, Dr. B. R. Ambedkar University Delhi, New Delhi, India. Her research employs an ethnographic approach to examine the everyday experiences and aspirations of university students, interrogating how student subjectivities and futures are negotiated within the shifting terrain of contemporary higher education.
References
Cohen, L., Manion, L., & Morrison, K. (2011). Research methods in education (7th Special Indian ed.). Routledge.
Hanson, R., & Richards, P. (2019). Harassed: Gender, bodies, and ethnographic research. University of California Press.
Rooke, A. (2010). Queer in the field: On emotions, temporality and performativity in ethnography. In K. Browne, & C. J. Nash (Eds.), Queer methods and methodologies: Intersecting queer theories and social science research (pp. 25-39). Ashgate.