Plass, J. L., Moreno, R., & Brünken, R. (2010). Cognitive load theory. [electronic resource]. New York : Cambridge University Press, 2010.
Our second Qualitative Methods course readings focused on “thinking with” poststructuralist theory, and the first chapter of the Jackson and Mazzei’s “Thinking with Theory in Qualitative Research” book (2012) was difficult to process: I knew little of poststructuralists’ writings, and I was even less familiar with the concept of “thinking with theory.” By the third time I finished re-reading the explanation of how the authors plan to “plug in one text into another” in the consequent chapters, my head began to fill with images. I pictured some odd piece of machinery with a “plug” of idea prongs at the end of a long flexible hose entering an outlet of some abstract concept, some shapeless mass. Then I recalled how in my graphic design projects I would create a template of a layout or a website using sample images and greeked text, then “plug in” real images and copy after the client approved the design. In my mind, this second analogy fit beautifully: Jackson and Mazzei’s interview data was the “template;” the poststructuralists’ ideas were the “real” images and copy that drove the design and made it authentic. Clearly, the second analogy, drawn from a concrete life example, was more effective than the first because evidently, the book’s idea finally made sense. Somewhere in the middle of the chapter I reached for a yellow highlighter and started marking thoughts that supported my interpretation of the text. Finally, I wrote a brief reaction paper and thought of another analogy to capture my reading experience. I used words to describe it:
“I compare discussions of philosophy to eating nuts–they require effort to crack, are difficult to digest, but are oh so satisfying and full of rare minerals essential to good health. This week’s reading presented a double challenge with the inner shell of Derrida’s Deconstruction, and the green and fuzzy outer layer (the one that connects the nut to the tree and to the other nuts) of Jackson and Mazzei’s discussion of ‘plugging in.’ I had to work outwards.”
Analogies helped me make sense of unfamiliar concepts, and imagery helped made analogies more detailed and less abstract.
After reading about how Jackson and Mazzei applied Derrida’s philosophy to analyze their interview data, I felt a strong urge to try the same with my own topic of interest: high functioning autism in school and society. At that stage, my topic was very broad and hung on a mere observation that children who have ASD and are considered “high functioning” do not belong in self-contained classrooms, and yet, they have difficulty fitting in inclusion classes. As I contemplated this thought, I sensed hierarchies in the terms “function” and “special needs,” led by the second week’s reading about Spivak’s identification of “margins” and “centers” within social structures. However, I struggled to find an appropriate model to conceptualize Spivak’s teachings in high functioning autism context. Challenged and intrigued, I dusted off the 80-color set of watercolor pencils and an old sketchbook and started doodling. Is Spivak’s discourse about marginality and power relevant to my inquiry? If so, how? I used colored pencils to explore the relationship between margins and the center spatially, and to understand how Spivak’s “deconstruction re-positions marginality not as a positive space outside of the center, but as constructed within the center” (Jackson & Mazzei, 2012, p. 37).
My thinking exercise resulted in a sketch of an apple with a slice taken out and the apple’s center exposed. The apple represented the entire education system in the U.S., and I thought of how my daughter who has “high functioning” ASD would probably be placed somewhere closer to the skin of the fruit. Looking at my apple, I realized how much more room there is on the outer part of the apple compared with the inside, and how despite my thinking of an apple consisting of “outer” and “inner” parts it really is just one fleshy fruit with a very thin skin and a relatively small seed box.
In retrospect, my little discovery was hardly profound, but I took note of how sketching to process complex information felt right and exciting. Therefore, for the following week’s study of Michel Foucault “power and knowledge” theme, I went straight for my pencils and paper and read the assigned chapter reflexively. The topic of power and knowledge instantly resonated with my ever-present thoughts about my progress as a scholar and coincided with the need to revisit my reflexivity statement for the upcoming authentic inquiry project. The sketch depicted a stack of hats that conceptualized the many roles I routinely perform as a mother, wife, daughter, and a student. This sketch took longer to complete as I fought to resist my desire to privilege the quality of drawing over the concept and the process of sketching as a method of research. I had to remind myself of my purpose–not to showcase my (hopelessly rusty!) drawing skills, but to visually express my thoughts as I filtered them through Foucault’s writings and through examples of Jackson and Mazzei’s use of his theory for analysis. As an extra measure of commitment to my scholarly rather than artistic aims, I put my favorite quotes from the chapter on the drawing’s margins.
As I worked on my sketch, I remembered how wonderful it felt to linger in this creative state, unburdened by the constraints of time and gravity: my mind was free to travel in any direction, effortlessly slowing down or speeding up to interact with ideas as they formed. In this dimension, my daily activities and problems went “off the grid” freeing up cognitive resources for my intellectual pursuits. With the context of present reality muted, I found it easier to access any memory from my timeline and to create new connections between experiences and their meanings as I scrutinized my researcher identity. I believe that visual information produced by the controlled motion of my hand stimulated the thought process even as thoughts…