Editorial note: In our effort to encompass a variety of perspectives, we are including this blogpost written by a social scientist about research into current migration patterns rather than historical migrations. We feel that the reflecting on the notion of “navigating the personal in migration research” also enriches historical work and is, of course, highly relevant to “migrant knowledge,” most especially, the kind of knowledge produced about migrants.
As researchers, we cannot separate our personal histories, cultures, and identities from the work we do. We are often led to believe that research should be dispassionate, detached, and purely intellectual, but this notion is far from the truth. As Eber Hampton1 so aptly put it, “Emotionless, passionless, abstract, intellectual, academic research is a goddamn lie. It does not exist. It is a lie to ourselves and a lie to other people.” We are human—feeling, living, and breathing—and this inevitably shapes our research. When we deny this truth and try to feign objectivity, we not only deceive ourselves but also endanger the very people we seek to understand.
As social scientists, we have a responsibility to consider not only the reliability of our data but also the ethical dimensions of how we collect it. When studying migration or identities, we engage with people and communities. It is essential to recognize how our research impacts them. Particularly within the context of migration research, where individuals’ stories are closely tied to their lived experiences of displacement, power dynamics, and survival, we must tread carefully, with humility and accountability.
I am a migrant woman from Turkey navigating the world of academia, so my personal identity has profoundly shaped the way I conceptualize and conduct migration research. My research transcends mere academic inquiry; it is an ongoing process of self-reflection, deeply shaped by my experiences and subjectivity. In this blog post, I reflect on how a researcher’s positionality and accountability influence the research process, using insights from Donna Haraway’s2 concept of “situated knowledge” and Shawn Wilson’s3 notion of “relational accountability.” These frameworks have guided my interactions in my research with activist migrant women from Turkey and Poland, as well as with Turkish migrant men in Sweden, and reshaped how I understand myself as a researcher and migrant woman. In my current research, I examine the experiences of feminist activists who left Turkey and Poland due to the increasing prevalence of anti-gender politics. In this ongoing project, I have conducted 40 in-depth, qualitative interviews with activist migrant women from Turkey and Poland. I focus on how these activists navigate their identities and continue their activism in (sometimes self-imposed) exile, resisting sociopolitical changes that threaten gender equality, reproductive rights, democratic values, and social justice. In my research, I seek to understand how these women’s personal stories reflect larger struggles against far-right populism, political polarization, and religious fundamentalism, and how they strive to maintain their activist identities in the face of these challenges. Prior to my current project, I conducted a small-scale study in Sweden with first-generation Turkish migrant men, exploring how they positioned their gender identities in both Turkey and Sweden. The research examined how these men perceived changes in their gender identities after migration and how these shifts affected their relationships in their private sphere.
Understanding the Researcher’s Reflexivity in Migration Studies
In the field of migration research, embracing the myth of objectivity can lead to a one-sided and extractive approach. When researchers attempt to distance themselves from their own subjectivity, they risk becoming disconnected from the complexities of their subjects and the human element of their research. By rejecting the notion of absolute objectivity and instead approaching research as an embodied and relational process, we can foster deeper engagements. This perspective encourages researchers to align with their own experiences and emotions, thereby transforming research into a more collaborative and reciprocal process. Embracing this shift could lead to richer insights and more meaningful connections within the study of migration.
Donna Haraway’s theory of “situated knowledge” is central to understanding how my status as a young, female academic from a middle-class background in Turkey, doing research on migration and gender studies, influences the stories I hear and the interpretations I make. Haraway emphasizes that all knowledge is partial and shaped by the specific experiences and context of the researcher. In migration research—especially when approached through a gendered lens—reflexivity becomes crucial. My identity is not separate from the research process. Instead, it is woven into the fabric of the research itself. As a researcher, I am not an objective observer; I bring along my own experiences, theories, and preconceptions. Following Karen O’Reilly’s4 iterative-inductive approach, I have come to accept that neutrality in research is not only impossible but also undesirable. By acknowledging and embracing my positionality, I have used reflexivity as a tool to critically examine how my identity informs the questions I ask, the relationships I build, and the conclusions I draw.
While reflexivity helps me understand my own role in the research process, Shawn Wilson’s concept of “relational accountability” guides how I interact with participants. Relational accountability insists that researchers are not just responsible for collecting data; they must also be accountable to the relationships they build and the knowledge that emerges from those interactions. As Wilson suggests, knowledge does not belong to the researcher, nor to the participants themselves, but to the relationships that are formed between all the parties involved. The knowledge I present as a researcher is not my own—it emerges from a collective effort and cannot be individually owned. As I tell the stories of those I work with, I am merely a storyteller, and the knowledge I share is a reflection of the community and the collaborative relationships that were formed during the research process. Research, therefore, becomes a collective and collaborative endeavor, grounded in mutual trust, reciprocity, and respect for the shared knowledge that arises.
Emotional Labor and Gendered Dynamics in Practice
When diving into the complexities of migration research, one crucial aspect that often goes unnoticed is the emotional labor involved, a concept elaborated by Arlie Hochschild.5 As researchers, we often suppress our emotions to create a safe environment for participants to share their stories. Yet, once the interviews conclude, these emotions flood back, leaving us to process them alone.
After conducting interviews with Turkish migrant men in Sweden, I often found myself emotionally drained. One day, following a particularly intense interview in which a participant shared his traumatic experiences about his migration, I went out for coffee with friends. Upon seeing me, they immediately remarked that I looked saddened and exhausted. I struggled to articulate my feelings, especially the deep connection I felt with the participant as he recounted his struggles, fear of deportation, and longing for home. These moments profoundly impacted my emotions and recalled my own feelings of displacement and uncertainty.
In my current project, I work with activist migrant women through long, three-hour life-history interviews. The narratives that emerge are often deeply impactful—harrowing stories of political violence, sexual assault, and the myriad reasons driving their migration. For instance, one participant detailed her experience of fleeing violence and seeking refuge. Listening to her recount the isolation and fear she faced created a profound connection that weighed heavily on my heart. After such interviews, my mood is frequently affected as I carry their stories with me and grapple with the emotional aftermath of sharing in their trauma. This emotional labor is exhausting, yet it enriches my understanding of their resilience and the complex realities they navigate.
Through this process of reflection, I have come to recognize how gendered power relations shape research. Nancy Hartsock’s6 feminist standpoint theory highlights that marginalized groups, especially women, have unique perspectives shaped by their lived experiences—perspectives that reveal often-overlooked power structures. This framework emphasizes the importance of acknowledging the positionality of researchers and participants as power imbalances can influence knowledge production. By focusing on these dynamics, feminist standpoint theory encourages critical reflection on how social positions affect research outcomes, challenges traditional notions of objectivity, and underscores the value of situated knowledge. The interplay of gendered dynamics and emotional labor in my research has profoundly shaped my research outcomes, giving me deeper insight into the experiences of migrant women and men. In interviewing both migrant men and women as a young female researcher, I navigated complex power relations that influenced the dynamics of our conversations and the data I collected.
When I interviewed Turkish migrant men in Sweden, my identity as a young woman often positioned me uniquely. Many of the participants were in their 50s and 60s, and I sometimes sensed that they viewed me as a daughter. This perception influenced our interactions as they seemed eager to demonstrate their differences from traditional masculine stereotypes. For instance, one participant shared, “I try to help my wife at home because I want to be a better man than the ones back in Turkey.” While this desire to distinguish themselves highlighted their emotional labor in redefining masculinity within a new cultural context, it also presented challenges. At times, I noticed a reluctance among them to fully express their vulnerabilities, driven by a need to project strength and distance themselves from any perceptions of weakness. This dynamic limited the depth of their narratives and reduced the richness of the data I could collect. One man admitted, “I’ve always been the strong one. It’s hard for me to share that I’m struggling.” Barbara Pini7 indicates that men may hold back emotional expressions when speaking with women due to societal expectations around masculinity. This hesitance illustrated how these norms hindered their openness and potentially skewed the data collected. Consequently, although some discussions were enriched by the men’s desire to redefine their roles, the struggle between traditional expectations and evolving identities often resulted in superficial narratives. Their hesitance to engage deeply with their emotional experiences ultimately affected the conclusions I drew from these interviews, highlighting the complex interplay between gender dynamics and emotional labor in shaping the data.
In contrast, my interviews with migrant women activists were characterized by a more intimate and relatable atmosphere. Many participants described our discussions as “therapeutic,”8 reflecting their profound sense of relief in being heard. One participant noted, “When I spoke about my past, it felt like a weight lifted. It’s not just telling my story; it’s a way to heal and find strength in my journey.” This emotional safety facilitated richer, more nuanced narratives that revealed their resilience in the face of adversity. The emotional labor I engaged in during these interviews fostered trust and encouraged participants to share deeper insights into their struggles. Reflecting on the interplay between emotional labor and gendered dynamics has significantly deepened my understanding of their impact on the research process and outcomes. As a researcher from Turkey and an immigrant, I have developed a profound connection with participants who articulate the mental and psychological effects of political changes, the rise of illiberalism, migration, and anti-gender policies on their lives. This dual reflective process enhances the relevance of my findings and underscores the urgent need for targeted interventions and support systems that address the multifaceted realities migrants face.
Moreover, the research I conduct and the knowledge I produce reflect the experiences of specific groups. My identity as a Turkish woman and migrant shapes my interactions with Turkish migrant men, allowing for an insider perspective that fosters connection; however, this also presents challenges related to my position as a woman in these interactions. While interviewing Turkish migrant men, I encountered challenges stemming from societal expectations around masculinity, which often hindered their emotional openness. Their reluctance to express vulnerability limited the depth of the narratives I could collect, ultimately affecting the conclusions I could draw from these interviews. Although my experiences with migrant women led to deeper discussions, I remain acutely aware that the stories they told predominantly represent middle-class activist women who have had the opportunity to escape the impacts of anti-gender policies and start anew. Thus, while my research provides valuable insights, it is essential to recognize both the limitations of the perspective it provides and the diversity within migrant experiences. Ultimately, acknowledging and processing emotional labor and gendered dynamics is crucial for achieving a comprehensive understanding of the complexities inherent in migration. The application of reflective practices concerning these dimensions enriches our insights into both the lived experiences of migrants and our own positionality as researchers. Given the persistence of these dynamics, careful examination is essential for advancing our comprehension of migration issues.
Concluding Remarks: Reflexivity as an Ongoing Process
To conclude, migration research is never a “clean” process. As researchers, we bring our own identities, experiences, and emotions into the field, all of which influence our research in ways we may not always be aware of. Reflexivity is about trying to bring these influences into our awareness, and, since our own identities, experiences, and emotions continually evolve, we must constantly reflect on how our positionality shapes the knowledge we produce. For me, this research journey has been about more than collecting data—it has been about understanding myself as both a migrant woman and an academic. The stories shared by the women and men I interviewed have affected me, just as I hope my research has impacted them meaningfully. The theories of “situated knowledge” and “relational accountability” remind us that research is inherently shaped by our own experiences, and the knowledge we generate is not neutral but deeply contextual. Reflexivity allows us to embrace these influences, ensuring that our research remains ethical, grounded, and collaborative. By acknowledging our positionality, we are not only deepening our connection with participants but also fostering a research environment built on trust and mutual respect. Going forward, the insights from the concept of emotional labor and feminist standpoint theory will continue to inform and enhance reflexive migration research. Researchers who commit to relational accountability will ensure that the knowledge produced in their research reflects the meaningful connections and stories produced in the course of their research journey.
Ecem Nazlı Üçok is a PhD candidate and lecturer in the Department of Sociology at Charles University, Prague. Her current research focuses on the sociopolitical impact of far-right movements on the lives of activist migrant women, particularly from Poland and Turkey. By combining political sociology, social movement studies, and gender studies, she examines how migration and activism intersect in response to rising conservatism and anti-gender policies.
Featured image: Near Calipatria, Imperial Valley, California. Interview in grower’s camp for migrant labor on the edge of the pea fields. February 1939. Library of Congress LC-USF34- 019198-E.
- Eber Hampton, “Memory Comes Before Knowledge: Research May Improve If Researchers Remember Their Motives,” Canadian Journal of Native Education 21 (1995): 46–54. ↩︎
- Donna Haraway, “Situated Knowledges: The Science Question in Feminism and the Privilege of Partial Perspective,” Feminist Studies 14, no. 3 (1988): 575–99. ↩︎
- Shawn Wilson, Research Is Ceremony (Halifax: Fernwood Publishing, 2008). ↩︎
- Karen O’Reilly, Ethnographic Methods (Oxon: Routledge, 2012). ↩︎
- Arlie Russell Hochschild, The Managed Heart: Commercialization of Human Feeling (Oakland: University of California Press, 2012). ↩︎
- Nancy Hartsock, “The Feminist Standpoint: Toward a Specifically Feminist Historical Materialism,” in Feminist Theory Reader, ed. Carole McCann and Seung-Kyung Kim, 152–59 (Abingdon: Routledge, 2016). ↩︎
- Barbara Pini, “Interviewing Men,” Journal of Sociology 4, no. 2 (2005): 201–16. ↩︎
- Kenneth Plummer, Telling Sexual Stories: Power, Change, and Social Worlds (London: Routledge, 2004). ↩︎
