WRITING AS UPROOTEDNESS: Onto-Epistemological Considerations for Qualitative Research

Among the many suggestions given to scholars regarding how to engage with post-qualitative inquiry, including to study post-structuralism, feminism, philosophy (Western), and “the history and politics of social sciences,” “read, read read,” and to “not skip Derrida,” perhaps the most striking aspect of post-qualitative inquiry is how it offers very few suggestions about how to write post-qualitatively (St. Pierre, 2019, 2020). To be sure, some scholars have written about the non-representational aspects of language, or about how writing with theory involves an on-going process in the making designed to help learn it, but conversations about how the onto-epistemological foundations impact the writing up of such research is quite absent from the literature (St. Pierre, 2019; Ulmer, 2017). For example, take the concept of an ontology of immanence, which is a main concept of post-qualitative research. Instead of just writing about or explaining what ontology of immanence is and its implications for qualitative research, how might one write as an ontology of immanence? Another example of how concepts get written about, or explained in post-qualitative inquiry, but not used as a modality of writing is the concept of difference. It is usually explained through the work of Jacque Derrida, in the “plane of immanence is always differentiating, always becoming, never static” (St. Pierre, 2019, p. 5). Many scholars in the field of post-qualitative inquiry explain concepts, but they don’t show how to write as that concept. For example, how might one write as difference as the never static difference of something? Finally, what about the concept of “invention,” which is described as “making it up”? How does one write as an invention? Again, instead of explaining or using propositional language to explain these concepts, how does one write with these concepts in mind? These thoughts and questions have me thinking about my friend Tommy. I have been thinking a lot lately about my friend Tommy. Tommy grew up in a big, traditional Italian family in Buffalo, New York. Born the youngest of a large family of older brothers, to a working-class home, Tommy became a mama’s boy from a very early age. Unlike his older brothers, Tommy didn’t become a star-athlete or a rowdy womanizer, but instead took interest in more girly things and knew from an early age that he was gay. Girly things and gay do not necessarily go together, but in Tommy’s case, they describe how different he felt from both this family and his environment. His mother was his safe space, his resort, his refuge. When Tommy was old enough, he left Buffalo for the sunny beaches of Los Angeles and began to build a life there volunteering and running local political candidates (mostly gay) and marketing at one of the large movie houses. He nurtured a large community of friends of queers and built a life for himself based in community activism and steady, disciplined work. He became an active addict and lost most of what he had built: addiction took it all away. After getting sober, much of his life was restored as did his health and vibrancy. Throughout most of his life, he had a rather distant relationship with his family, especially his brothers, who continued to bully him even from afar. Tommy and I met close to 20 years ago when I was traveling to Los Angeles on vacation. I believe I was walking back to my hotel with a friend when he stopped me in my tracks. My first words to him were, “Oh my God, you are so beautiful.” Muscly, jet-black hair, beautiful face and physique. Gracious in his response, we exchanged phone numbers-not cell-phone numbers, mind you. I gave him my friend’s number and he returned with his home phone number. Later that evening we met at his place and to my surprise he ate so much candy! All types of candy, Butterfingers and Milky Ways, but Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups were the favorite this night. It was impressive that he could eat so much sugar and still be in such great shape. We realized that we had so much in common and became fast friends.