Vajra M. Watson

Research is not a stand-alone mirror of reality but a kaleidoscope comprising tiny fragments of mirrors and shards of colored glass that, when pointed toward the light, reflect off one another, forming magical patterns. Who holds the kaleidoscope is meaningful because what gets included is as important as what gets omitted. With the slightest turn of the wrist, the final image can completely change. Regardless of methodology, researchers make significant decisions that inform the data that take shape to then inform the findings. As a process of scientific inquiry, our research used each person’s frame of reference, including our own, to shape—but not solely reflect—the final pictures that formed the portraits in chapters 13–17.

Because research is personal, purposeful, and political, the methods we use to investigate our questions are as important as the findings. To humanize the data collection process, we relied on portraiture—a qualitative research methodology that bridges science and art—to merge “the systematic and careful description of good ethnography with the evocative resonance of fine literature” (Lawrence-Lightfoot 2005, 6). Portraiture is rooted in a style of vivid storytelling that allows the reader into the moment. This kind of account permits a multifaceted reality to unfold that feels, and is, alive and authentic.

Developed by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot, portraiture seeks to unveil the universal truths and resonant stories that lie in the specifics and complexity of everyday life. The Art and Science of Portraiture by Sara Lawrence-Lightfoot and Jessica Hoffmann Davis (1997) is a seminal text of this relatively new methodology that illuminates the complex dynamics and subtlety of human experience and organizational life. The work of Lawrence-Lightfoot, the visionary who developed this qualitative research process, becomes a roadmap for ideas and insights about how to develop the arc of an investigation. Her scholarship serves as a source of inspiration for the growing number of social scientists who use her methods (e.g., Chapman 2007; Harding 2005; Hill 2005; Ononuju 2016).

To humanize the people within the Black Child Legacy Campaign, their portraits were carefully crafted. The depth of writing was meant to show, rather than tell, the process of transformation and empowerment unveiled by the data. According to Lawrence-Lightfoot, portraiture is a practice of emancipation, unfolding in the form of human archaeology. As a qualitative tool, our methods share commonalities with ethnography and narrative inquiry, but differ in five distinct ways:

1. Portraitists are not simply “flies on the wall,” we are ever-present and lend our voice to the narrative that unfolds.
2. Portraitists use the entirety of their being to unearth answers to complex questions told through the lives of individuals who embody some semblance of the answers.
3. Portraitists explicitly guard against fatalistic, pessimistic inquiries into problems, instead searching for solutions by examining nuances of goodness.
4. Portraitists do not make participants anonymous, nameless factors but seek to acknowledge, honor, and validate their stories by using the real names of people and places.
5. Portraitists are committed to sharing findings that are accessible to audiences beyond the academy as an explicit act of community building.

Guided by these pillars, portraiture allows a soulful narrative to emerge—yet this does not imply subjectivism. Drawing mainly from grounded theory, we used various tools to systematically analyze the data. First, to ensure descriptive validity, we tape recorded and transcribed all interviews verbatim, including words like “um …” and “you know.” We processed field notes within one day of observation and conducted an initial open coding. Second, we wrote reflexive memos and kept journals. We approached the interview data aware that they were representative of a process of co-construction in which teller and listener create meaning collaboratively. Through writing memos and journal entries, we kept strict notes of our personal impressions and thoughts as we gathered information. Third, to ensure interpretive validity, we systematically emphasized evidence in analytic memos and narrative summaries by citing participants’ own words and documenting transcript page numbers to connect our interpretations to the data. We compared discrepant data to working observations to assess whether to consider alternative explanations. Fourth, we conducted member checks by having participants review their interview transcripts and clarify or expand on any issue raised. These strategies are important tools for developing validity and for guarding against researcher bias. Fifth, we triangulated across several data sources—participant observation, questionnaires, interviews, surveys, and supplemental documentation—to reduce the risk of chance associations and biases due to data collection methods. Sixth, we solicited feedback regularly from colleagues who were skilled researchers but were not intimately connected to the data. We shared transcripts, memos, and matrices with them to identify discrepant data and to strengthen our coding strategies and analytic tools. Such alternative interpretations are necessary to forge accurate findings and proper conclusions. Seventh, we mined the data for seeds of the solution that could be replicated and sustained. This final process ensures that the answers to our questions inform a greater good. For those that are interested, suggested readings on portraiture as a research methodology can be found after the References.

As we pivot to the portraits, please consider the metaphor of a tree. Much research focuses on the leaves: the facts and figures that are byproducts of certain kinds of work. Then there are studies that emphasize the branches—those correlations of how, why, and where the leaves connect. And there are plenty of studies that simultaneously consider the historical context: the roots. Our focus in this part, however, was on digging (literally and figuratively) through years of information and layers of discoveries, constantly triangulating among multiple sources, to uncover the seed of the story—for it is the seed that holds the soul of the work, its essence. Building on this idea of a tree, neither policy makers nor practitioners can plant a tree only with leaves, limbs, or roots. To grow this work in Sacramento and beyond, seeds need to be planted, nourished, and cultivated. It is the people who plant these seeds.

To honor these individuals, we made every attempt to depict their effectiveness in a way that is nuanced, accurate, and authentic. If we failed to accomplish this, we take full responsibility; these movement makers within the Black Child Legacy Campaign became vulnerable to us so that they might become real to you. Let’s turn to them now.