A student recently asked me why I had switched my major from aerospace engineering to sociology and then years later left a career in finance to get a PhD in sociology. My response may sound trite, but it has become a standard phrase among many of us in the field, from undergraduates to professors: I wanted to be a social change agent.
If you are like me, you may have thought that getting a PhD in sociology would somehow automatically afford you the opportunity to be a social change agent. What I failed to realize (maybe you, too) is that change only happens when urgency around issues is present; coalitions are formed; a vision is identified; communication is engaged; obstacles are removed; short-term wins are celebrated; and social modifications are solidified in values, beliefs, and norms. As American biologist and naturalist E.O. Wilson famously attested, “Change will come slowly, across generations, because old beliefs die hard even when demonstrably false.” The sequential process to achieve change hinges on placing community, instead of the researcher’s ego, at the center of research—something that is often counter to an academic culture that pushes independence and solo authorship. Yet, an analysis of the career trajectories of Nobel laureates (scientific elites) shows increasing reliance on collaborations as careers grow, and another study suggests that the bibliometric achievement of scholars is higher among those with greater numbers of coauthored publications. So, collaboration equates to having a greater impact. It is also well understood that the publish-or-perish principle that drives academic life may fuel goal displacement and unethical practices, which inherently limit one’s ability to do community-engaged research (CER). Within sociology in particular, Michael Burawoy, 2004 American Sociological Association president, has even acknowledged that public sociologies (with CER focuses) are often undervalued in merit and promotion.
What is Community-Engaged Research?
Community-engaged research (CER) (also known as community-engaged scholarship) is an umbrella term for a collection of philosophies and methodological processes about working in partnership with communities around research development, execution, and the dissemination of findings—a field that has seen rapid growth in the past two decades. CER emerged in response to historical abuses against underrepresented communities at the hands of researchers who opted to collect data, but who did not include community members in research design or results dissemination. Mistrust of researchers, and the medical community more broadly, has roots in events like the Tuskegee Syphilis Study and in more recent revelations that the health concerns of people of color (specifically the Black community) are not taken as seriously as those of their white counterparts (Hoffman et al. 2016, Washington 2008).
CER research has the power to be emancipatory when it is used in the coproduction of knowledge to benefit disadvantaged populations. While CER as a label for such work may be new, the concepts were already being employed by sociologists like Jane Addams, Katharine Bement Davis, W.E.B. Du Bois, and Isabel Eaton at the end of the nineteenth century and the turn of the twentieth century. These scholars (notably women and people of color) were actively engaged in community projects to illuminate and address social ills. Today, what we refer to as CER exists along a spectrum of possibilities that are driven by the level of community inclusion and engagement. From the least to most inclusive, this list includes investigator-driven research, community-placed research, community-based research, community-based participatory research, and community-driven research. While CER has gained traction as an ideal among disciplines, few studies (perhaps less than one percent) are incorporating these approaches.
Exploring the Spectrum of Research Approaches
Investigator-driven research (IDR) (also known as traditional research) is initiated by a researcher and centers on the researcher’s goals. The researcher identifies the question, plans, and then seeks to execute the process, using the community as the subject. This type of research may or may not respect locational preferences of the community. In most cases, the researcher will have limited connection with the community, only visiting to collect data.
Community-placed research (CPR) is research that happens in the community but that remains researcher-driven. Like IDR, the community is studied, but not part of the research process beyond being subjects. The slight difference between IDR and CPR is that CPR recognizes the importance of place, with the researcher spending more time in the community.
Community-based research (CBR) occurs when there is a collaboration between the researcher and community in which the community identifies wants and needs and the researcher engages in formulating a plan and executing this plan to support the community. In this case, the community does not “participate” in the development or execution of the project. The collaboration is limited, but much more extensive than the investigator-driven approach.
Community-based participatory research (CBPR) is the most-cited approach within the social sciences. It is also known as action research (AR) or participatory action research (PAR). It was formalized in the writings of Kurt Lewin and Paulo Freire. The purpose of CBPR is to create an equitable partnership where community members are involved in all aspects of the research process, from design to dissemination. The goal of this research approach is to use the knowledge gained to promote social or political change that benefits the community. While the terms (CBR, AR, or PAR) are often used interchangeably, action research and participatory action research may be thought of as more aptly centering action over community. Within sociology, Burawoy coined the term “organic public sociology,” which has principles that parallel CBPR. Burawoy argues that public sociology exists on a spectrum from traditional to organic, where public sociology is simply about bringing sociology into conversations with the public and organic public sociology is about a “close connection with a visible, thick, active, local and often counter public … Between the organic public sociologist and a public is a dialogue, a process of mutual education.”
Community-driven research (CDR) (also known as community-initiated research) is when a community approaches a researcher to be part of a collaborative process. While CBPR focuses on equitable partnerships, CDR extends this further to elevate the community as the driver of the research process and the researcher as part of the community’s toolbox of resources. I strive to have a mix of CBPR and CDR projects.
Personal Experience with CBPR and CDR
In CBPR, everyone engaged with the project starts from the same place, with a recognition that all involved have unique qualifications and that traditional and nontraditional knowledge are both valued. Much of my work revolves around these two approaches. Historically, I have volunteered with and promoted community partners who have then invited me to participate in research-driven initiatives that are important to them. I recognize the commitment this takes. Not only has volunteering helped me better understand my community and make connections, but it also brings me back to the heart of why I wanted to be a professor—to cultivate change. As much as I offer the approximately 16 community partners that I regularly work with, they offer me so much more by challenging and changing how I think about research and teaching.
For example, I have worked with several organizations to pursue grant funding. In some cases, grant money has been designated for me to facilitate components of the project. In other cases, I simply use my research and grant-writing skills to support a community partner without a distinct monetary benefit to myself or my university. I do what makes the most sense for the community partner. In other cases, I respond to broad community partner requests. For instance, I have been working with the Uruguay-based organization Rizoma Field School (RFS) on a project to assess how Earthship Biotecture—an innovative and accessible building practice that uses trash materials to construct sustainable off-grid structures—is seen as a climate change mitigation and adaption strategy by its followers. The director of RFS asked for assistance from someone with connections to a university to support this study. Given that I had the connections and had previously done work investigating Earthship Biotecture it seemed like a perfect partnership. RFS has driven the direction of the project.
I have also been on the other end of CDR. Back in 2016, while I was in graduate school, I found out that I had kidney failure and needed a transplant. Not only was this information concerning as a graduate student trying to finish a dissertation, it was made more complicated by the fact that I am a transgender man. Finding transgender-competent care is challenging. Transplant medicine operates on a two-sex system that is not supportive of transgender bodies or the diversity of bodies that exist. I did some calculations and contacted a clinical chemist in hopes that we could publish the findings and promote conversations about advanced care for transgender patients. This scholar agreed to my request and this publication is now part of a greater conversation about how organs are allocated to those in need and how transgender people do and do not fit into this conversation. I use this as an example because I am not a medical sociologist, but I needed this information to be shared in support of the transgender community.
Community Engagement as Collective Support Systems
Becoming engaged with communities takes work—lots of it. But this work can lead to an interesting, elaborate, and mutually beneficial support system that can extend beyond academic life. Like so many, at the height of the pandemic my wife (who is also an academic) and I were both teaching, doing research, taking care of my mother full time until she passed in January 2021, and providing full-time day care for our baby. We were in a new community, having moved across the country only eight months before the pandemic began. During this time, the connections I had built when I arrived in our new location became a central feature of our support system. Community partners offered resources such as of food, recommendations, and general support. Like so many underrepresented individuals, for us as a queer family, investing in community engagement and research was particularly important. For me, feeling a sense of place and support in my community is central to my productivity, even when my current community partners are environmental or animal-justice oriented, rather than LGBTQIA-focused.
Teaching as Community-Initiated Student-Engaged Research (CISER)
According to College Factual, sociology is the 20th most popular major out of 384 potential majors, with sociology students making up about 35,443 graduates each year. As mentioned in the beginning, most of our students come to sociology with a desire to be change agents. In his 2004 ASA Presidential Address, Burawoy asserts that we should think of our students as the public, with rich lived experiences. This means that we should think about community engagement in our teaching. This could happen in several ways. Increasingly, sociologists are writing about community-initiated student-engaged research (CISER) as a unique and important tool for teaching about community-engaged scholarship (see Steven McKay’s piece in this collection). In teaching, I model connections with community partners by sharing our successes and failures with students. I also connect students with community partners to facilitate networking opportunities, internships, and future jobs. I see this engagement as central to my students’ abilities to navigate a future environmental and animal related careers.
For me, CBPR and CDR are not just a part of my research agenda, they are integral to how I choose to live my life, permeating my teaching and central to the support systems I access during challenging times.
Any opinions expressed in the articles in this publication are those of the author and not the American Sociological Association.
