Chapter 1
Language, Culture, and Identity
Framing the Issues
David Nunan
University of Hong Kong
Julie Choi
University of Technology, Sydney
Like many similar works, this collection began as a conversation. Well, to be honest, it was more an argument than a conversation. One night over drinks we began discussing new directions in research methodology. Julie had sent David a copy of Carolyn Ellisâs âFinal Negotiation,â a compelling account of her life with a partner with a terminal disease. David, somewhat provocatively, asked, âWell, itâs a wonderfully-written, moving account, but is it research?â
The ensuing âconversationâ opened up a raft of questions and dilemmas. Many of these are well rehearsed in the literature on research methodology (see for example, Nunan & Bailey, 2009; van Lier, 1988, 1990). Questions we debated and discussed included:
What counts as legitimate data? Is meeting threats to reliability and validity a precondition for inquiry to count as âresearch?â Does the manner in which research is presented qualify or disqualify it as research? What is âacademicâ writing? Where is the boundary between fact and fiction? Are accounts based on introspection research or self-indulgence? These were all issues that came up time and again as we shaped the volume and began to solicit contributions to it.
When we issued invitations for contributions to this volume, we asked authors to include in their chapters three elements: a brief language learning history; one or two narrative events or critical incidents that occurred while learning or using language and that highlighted either some aspect of culture, identity, or language, or the interconnections between some or all of these constructs; and a commentary on the narratives. We were happy for contributors to either present the background, narratives and commentary separately, or to weave these elements together. For us, the resulting pieces can be characterized as âresearch.â
Very early in the development of the collection we came head-to-head with the issue of academic style and personal voice. One reviewer of our initial proposal argued that the work needed to be âmore academic.â Another reviewer suggested we keep all of the narratives and commentaries separate. A colleague asked, âArenât you freaking out about the use of âIâ in your research?â
The process of writing opens up questions and brings the writer face-to-face with the purpose and intention of the act of recording and interpreting narrative accounts. We and our co-authors set off in one direction and more often than not found ourselves in some place else. The act of writing thus became part of the act of inquiry. It became clear to us that how the story is told is as integral to the final product as what the story is about. The authorâs voice thus became an important motif in the evolution of the book. As we have noted elsewhere:
Whether we are monolinguals or multilinguals, experts or novices, we all come across and struggle with issues of how language and culture affect or influence our identity. (We note that the current literature identifies bi/multilinguals, not necessarily as someone with high levels of proficiency in two or more languages, but someone who functions in more than one language for purposes of communication. The term âplurilingualismâ is also gaining currency to describe such individuals, whose numbers are on the increase with globalization and the international flow of peoples around the world.)
Micro Level Analysis as a Point of Departure
Initially we envisaged this as a âfunâ project. We thought that producing a self report, then reflecting on it, analyzing it, and connecting it to the literature, if not easy, would not necessarily be difficult. How wrong we were! Many contributors, having embarked on the process, came back to us with comments on just how hard it was. Several had to confront the dilemma of self-disclosure, something they had never had to do in their regular academic writing. Others struggled with questions of whether the personal stories and their interpretations made sense, if the accounts were rigorous enough or would resonate with readers. One who was caught between two cultures told us that through the writing of her piece she finally knew where it was that she wanted to be buried. Most of our contributors sent their pieces to colleagues and personal acquaintances asking for guidance and feedback. Some also experimented with their stories in writing groups before they submitted a co-constructed final chapter. Most, if not all of the chapters, are thus a product of intertextuality, although ultimately individual authors made the final decision of what their stories meant to them. They were creating their own âtruths.â (This struggle to capture experienced âtruthsâ in words reflects issues of voice and professionalism in Casanave and Schecterâs 1997 edited collection.)
Despite all of the questions of what is or isnât academically acceptable, perhaps the chapters here are models for what senior and junior academics see as academically acceptable in terms of using personal narratives and theories for research purposes. Concepts of collaboration, reflexivity, personal narratives, storytelling, autoethnography, and writing life histories have been around for several decades but when they all come together and are examined in 5,000 words or less, a new genre emerges.
In addition to applied linguists, we invited contributions from writers in other fields: a well-known journalist and novelist, members of communications departments, etc. By looking outwards, we discovered that the conversations that we had begun having, and the questions and issues we were facing, were being confronted by individuals and groups from many different scholarly communities all over the world.
Defining and Differentiating Key Constructs
As the title suggests, the central constructs providing a scaffolding for the volume are language, culture, and identity. Another central concept is that of reflexivity. Many articles, and indeed whole books have grappled with the challenge of defining these constructs, and collectively, there are literally hundreds of definitions.
The three characterizations of âcultureâ we like are those by Kramsch (1998), Judd (2002), and Pennycook (1995). Judd (2002:10) suggests that â[c]ulture can be defined as the system of shared objects, activities and beliefs of a given group of people.â Kramsch (1998:127) also emphasizes the notion of shared practice, suggesting that culture is âthe membership in a discourse community that shares a common social space and history, and a common system of standards for perceiving, believing, evaluating, and acting.â The contributions to this volume bear out the reality that as individuals we belong simultaneously to multiple cultures and sub-cultures. Pennycook sees culture âas the process by which people make sense of their lives, a process always involved in struggles over meaning and representationâ (Pennycook, 1995: 47). Again, the reference to personal struggle within a larger social context resonates with numerous contributions to the collection.
âIdentity is about belonging, about what you have in common with some people and what differentiates you from othersâ (Weeks, 1990: 88). Identity is therefore recognition of cultural belonging, which is internal to the individual, while culture is external. Identity is no longer seen as a unitary or ever stable construct. As Norton (forthcoming) has noted, and as our contributors attest in their narratives,
Such negotiation is interwoven with power, politics, ideologies and âinterlocutorsâ views of their own and othersâ identitiesâ (Pavlenko & Blackledge, 2004:1).
The metamorphic nature of the construct has become ever more apparent with globalization and the emergence of a globalized citizenry. We are witnessing the emergence of a more dynamic type of identity formation that confronts people with hybridized or cosmopolitan identities in the twenty-first century. As Delanty (2003:133) states,
In this current view of identity
In the narratives that follow, you will see this theme being played out time and time again.
Language is another construct that has resulted in hundreds, if not thousands of book-length treatments. (See for example, Nunan, 2007.) Kramsch argues that:
Each of the contributions to this collection represents an exercise in reflexivity, reflexivity being â⌠the process of continually reflecting upon our interpretations of both our experience and the phenomena being studied so as to move beyond the partiality of our previous understandings and our investment in particular research outcomesâ (Finlay, 2003:108). They also bear out Finlayâs contention that
The pieces in this collection weave together learning histories, personal narratives, and theory. The words âtheoryâ and âtheorizingâ get tossed around rather loosely in the literature. The following statement from Julian Edge, one of our contributors, comes closest to capturing our sense of the term and reflects what our contributors have done in situating their narratives within the research genres that intersect with the concerns, issues, and perspectives that emerge from the narratives.
As we attempted to define key constructs, we came to question their separability. In other words, we became reflexive about our own area of inquiry. To what extent is it possible to separate culture and identity, language and culture, language and identity? In many texts, one is defined in terms of the other. Our own stance is that culture is an âoutside the individualâ construct, while identity is an âinside the individualâ construct. Culture, as we have said, has to do with the artifacts, ways of doing, etc. shared by a group of people. Identity is the acceptance and internalization of the artifacts and ways of doing by a member of that group.
While reading and reviewing the contributions to the volume, we also came face-to-face with the âidentity paradox.â We all have multiple identities, and these can weld us together into cultures and subcultures separated by existential chasms. However, if we look beyond these chasms, we are all part of the human race, with similar aspirations and ideals.
In casual conversations with friends, colleagues, and even strangers, we found that âcultureâ and âidentityâ are pervasive but invisible until they are pointed out. Just as a fish is unaware of water until it is pulled from the ocean, the river or the stream, so most people are unaware of their culture or identity until they are confronted with other cultures and identities.
The Sapir-Whorf...