I start my mornings early, but my problems with technology begin even sooner. Sometimes, I open and close my laptop and restart it because I cannot get the internet to cooperate with me. I run to restart the router. Luckily, I get on my cellphone to finish my call to my Chair. The baby is now crying, and usually I would want to cry too. But this is something I am used to, and I’m too busy taking notes to fall apart mentally. 

I am in the final year of my dissertation, focusing on Hispanic students at Hispanic-Serving Institutions. I’m fascinated by the Digital Divide Theory and its impact on marginalized students seeking technology access, user ability (digital literacy), and their perceptions of online course success. Pursuing my doctoral degree is a distinctive milestone and an assurance to give back to my community through knowledge and awareness. That, in itself, is both my end goal and my path to happiness.

On paper, this is research. In my heart, it’s personal. 

As a first-generation Hispanic college student, first-time mother, and communications professional, I have overcome challenges in health, identity, and access. I still struggle with my health as my ulcerative colitis progresses. But I persist. 

Now, ten months postpartum, I am more motivated than ever to finish my degree, for myself and my son. I want him to see what it looks like to keep going, even when the light at the end of the tunnel is too faint to make out. I want him to grow up knowing that knowledge is indispensable, education is power, and lifting others is a part of our purpose. These are key to an inevitable path to happiness.

I took time off after my C-section to recover physically and mentally, navigating postpartum depression without the safety net of paid leave. As a self-employed communications consultant, there was no paycheck waiting for me, no HR department checking in. Recovery happened in between diaper changes, dissertation edits, and client calls.

 I’ve gone the extra mile to manage recovery, parenting, and doctoral coursework, but like many women, especially women of color, I have done it quietly while balancing family life. I do not always have childcare readily available. I have health conditions that need monitoring, like my colitis and my asthma, which result in more routine doctor appointments than most at my age. 

My son accompanies me to appointments sometimes, and he enjoys chatting on the phone when I talk to my Chair, as if he already understands the importance of what I’m working toward. He is a good sport about it, and he loves to try to grab my fountain pens and “help” me type. 

I often feel empowered knowing I can be a mom, a writer, a consultant, and a student working on a degree that is statistically difficult to achieve. I am among the 16.7 percent of Hispanic students who earn doctorates, and 2.6 percent of disabled students who earn a doctorate in education. 

I know what it’s like to feel unseen in academic spaces, as if the systems around you weren’t built with you in mind. I aim to use this research to inform institutional practices that are more inclusive, accessible, and supportive of students from all walks of life.

This process has shaped me in ways I never imagined. It has made me more empathetic, resilient, and undoubtedly sure that the work I am doing matters, not just for me or my son, but for many others who deserve to thrive in higher education.

I’ve been the student who couldn’t rely on her Wi-Fi or cell signal, but I always found a way to make things work. Some people are more disadvantaged and are unable to do the same. I’ve learned what equity means when you’re living it, not just researching it.

My career goals are founded in service. I aim to utilize my research, writing, and strategic communication skills to influence policy, guide institutions, and champion the voices of historically underrepresented groups through education. I believe deeply in the power of storytelling, not only as a former journalist but as someone who has seen how narratives can shape access to opportunity. 

This journey has not been easy, but it has been transformative. My experiences are woven into every part of who I am. It has reminded me that you can still take the next step forward even when you’re exhausted, overwhelmed, or unsure. And those steps matter. 

Those steps lead towards a seat at the table.

In 2019, I bought my first domain. It wasn’t for my business, a brand, or even a blog that was ready for the world. I just knew I needed a space that was mine. I needed a blank slate that I could shape entirely on my own terms.

I already had a marketing portfolio. But this was different. It was a place to process, to reflect, to write what I wanted without worrying about SEO or structure—a place to yell into the void. Once upon a time, over 1,000 people followed my Tumblr for the same reason. Not a lot, but enough to feel like someone was listening. Maybe even helped by something I wrote, and I wouldn’t have known.

At the time, I was juggling freelance gigs, grad school, and the sense that I wasn’t doing enough. Not successful enough. Not published enough. Contracts were ending, my confidence was shot, and I felt like I was treading scalding hot water. But I could still build this tiny digital corner where I could show up without needing permission. Just me, my writing, and whatever I was working through.

That website has quietly housed a vast collection of writing samples, portfolio pages, late-night freewrites, and a substantial number of drafts that never saw the light of day. I was able to write through a divorce that almost derailed my career. I ultimately completed my master’s degree in Journalism Innovation during one of the most challenging periods of my life. 

Sometimes, I feel like you can hear my heart beating through the words I’ve written there. I don’t know how to do anything else but write, which, honestly, weirds people out that I feel that way. I’m not a math person. What can I say?

Sometimes my mom asks why I still pay to keep my website up. And the answer never changes: because it matters to me. Because even when I’ve felt lost, that site has been a quiet promise to keep going. A digital piece of myself, reminding me I’m still here, still writing, and still building.

And lately, the views have started stacking up again. In the past week alone, I’ve seen a 125% increase in traffic and a 179% jump in visitors.

Maybe that’s not much in the grand scheme of things.

But it’s something.

It’s mine.

I admit that it hurts a little—but not entirely—to understand a Spanish meme on Twitter or Instagram. I don’t use a Spanish keyboard on my iPhone. And try talking to other fluent Spanish speakers with Google Translate. I can’t compete.

In short, I probably understand about 30 percent of what’s said to me, and that’s being generous. I religiously use subtitles when watching Narcos: Mexico. To say it’s just embarrassing is an understatement. Finding a solution to my first-world problem ended up with long-term plans for the future.

Straddling Two Worlds with One Language

It’s awkward being multiracial but monolingual. I’m the less than half of US-born Hispanics whose Spanish is forever subpar. I’m also part of the less than half of 1.4 million Filipinos surveyed in 2013 that live in California and do not speak Tagalog, Visayan, or Ilocano.

Pew Research Center data shows that over 60 percent of Hispanic-born citizens in the United States speak Spanish. And U.S. Census Bureau projections found that the share of those who speak only English at home rose from 26 percent in 2013 to 34 percent in 2020.

But 95 percent of all Latino adults see the value in learning how to read and write in Spanish.

So Where Do We Fit In?

So, where does the third of non-Spanish but Hispanic-identifying speakers fit in? There are 10 million Americans that identify as multiracial. What cultures do they identify with best?

My sense of culture is chaotic. Probably not by choice. None of my tattoos match. I feel more like a “Valley Girl” than anything. A language barrier is always an excuse for staying mute on the matter. Growing up in rural Southern California, I never realized just how much I would be missing out by never picking up either of my native languages.

Language Lost, Identity Fractured

I have a handful of Spanish-English dictionaries that we’ve barely touched. At 29, I’m too old to pick up a second language thoroughly. Eighteen is the cut-off for learning a new language well, according to Scientific American. When faced with the debacle of my monolingualism in public, I usually smile and say that I can’t roll my tongue for an “r.”

Therefore, I’m not going to try.

Trust me, learning Spanish in high school pales compared to someone who has spoken Spanglish their entire life. I yearn to code-switch and never will.

I lack an identity except being a third-generation American, which is less than impressive these days.

The Cultural Disconnect Is Real

Being light-skinned yet part of a multitude of beautiful yet underrepresented groups made for an interesting upbringing. It shows a stark difference between first-generation immigrants and the latter.

People who speak Tagalog or Spanish—primarily Spanish—will come up to me to strike up a conversation. In Costco, at the DMV, whatever. The blank stare they get in response that turns into a nervous laugh is always met with an eyeful of disappointment when realizing that I’m entirely white-washed.

“Why didn’t your parents teach you any other languages?” — the general question I feel — masked behind a blank stare with a hint of disdain. The ability to speak the Ilocano dialect was never something my maternal grandmother taught to anyone. My great-grandparents took the language with them when they passed. My mom never knew her father, a Hispanic and native military man who died before birth.

My paternal grandmother and my older family on her side speak Spanish, while the younger generations know very little. I could never understand why until I got older.

A Legacy of Survival

People seemingly tend to look down on others who share their heritage but lack the native language. Statista found that 7.3 million Americans in multiracial relationships identify as Hispanic. But you have to consider the term itself is a colloquial monolith.

I didn’t choose only to speak English. Colonialism did that for me. Not every person gets a chance to hold onto the cultures that represent their identity. All I can continue to do is look on with envy at those that can migrate their entire conversation to a different language like nothing. And I can also advocate for change.

My entire racial identity, my whole family, gentrified themselves over a century to assimilate and survive. The part left the Philippines for Hawaii before World War II. The rest fled Sonora, Mexico, and settled in the most significant Yaqui indigenous settlement in all of Arizona.

With some long-winded, extensive research, I’ve realized that both my mom and dad’s parents felt it was better to keep all aspects of culture at home and exude as much whiteness as possible. I developed a sense of fractured yet eloquent cultures through other avenues: vast amounts of literature, food, music, and art.

Rewriting the Future

I hope to instill those values in my future children—while allowing them to learn more than what English has to offer. While I may never really know where my indigenous roots lie because colonialism took those languages from my generation, I don’t plan on leaving my family to figure out their identities on their own.

Thirty years ago, there wasn’t a push to have bilingual children like there is now. Interracial marriage is still a relatively new concept. It was a survival tactic for survival in a nation ruled by white, wealthy men. When I look into U.S. census records, I don’t see a sole family name there. The fact that immigrants had to swallow their cultures to fit into America’s bubble is egregious.

Written in 2017

In 2003, Ian Urbina, a graduate student at the University of Chicago, abandoned his doctoral dissertation after completing a small journalism internship with an investigative reporter, which gave him a taste of reporting.

That taste landed him a job at one of the largest news media outlets in the US, a handful of awards, and a few investigative pieces that were turned into feature films.

That’s where his love of journalism has culminated over the past 14 years. 

A Fulbright scholar who worked and lived in Havana for three years, he was enrolled in a dual degree program with majors in cultural anthropology and history. He received a degree in history from Georgetown University in 1995. 

Urbina wasn’t expecting to find himself with the platform he has as a writer. Things just happened that way. He says his life gets weirder the deeper you go.

“I’m kind of an oddball, and so my day-to-day is pretty different than the norm,” he said.

Urbina’s typical day as an investigative journalist consists of long hours. Currently on book leave, he sDCs his days at home near The New York Times’ Washington, D.C., Bureau. 

He wakes up at the crack of dawn, around 4 in the morning, because that’s when he feels he works better. He has one main editor he works with in DC.

Urbina has his own office conveniently in the backyard. 

“I am a bit distractible, and do much better in kind of a deprivation chamber,” he said.

Urbina credits luck for his position at the Times. Little by little, he worked his way up the totem pole through freelancing. A stint with Think Tank is the moment that changed Urbina’s life, thrusting him into a mainstream career as a journalist. He learned everything there is to know about journalism “on the fly” at the DC Bureau metro desk, because he was clueless.

“I knew how to string together a sentence and make it occasionally somewhat polished, but I didn’t really know newspaper writing and all that entails,” he said.

After a year and a half at the metro desk, Urbina moved on to bureau chief. He managed an area from Kentucky to Ohio, noting that it was a challenging job because it was not a local paper — this was a paper on a national scale.

One day, Urbina asked his editor if he could take a break from the news rat race and spend a year researching documents for an article.

His editor said Go for it.

Urbina’s most recent piece, “Outlaw Ocean,” was not only his longest stint at three years, but it was also a dangerous and stressful assignment. It’s currently being turned into a book and a movie project. 

His editor was not a fan of the series, which also added to the list of obstacles surrounding the completion of his research.

Investigating overseas requires taking several precautions, including ensuring that you have a reliable translator. Without one, a journalist is entirely out of luck. No matter how good a writer you are, without a translator, nothing will be done properly, Urbina says.

Violence was a common occurrence while reporting in other countries.

The things he saw included murder on camera, sex trafficking, slavery, and arms trafficking.

Urbina says that spacing out trips, along with knowing who you hire, helps with the investigative process abroad.

“The difficulty (with reporting overseas) is the reporting itself,” he said.”You’re chasing really bleak stuff.”

His findings on fracking in 2011, in a series called “Drilling Down,” helped show the US how dangerous the government’s want for natural gas really was. Before Democrats were against the practice, fracking was seen as a gold mine, while few questioned whether it was detrimental to the government. Urbina, however, questioned it.

“That series was tough, it was aggressive, and we got really strong pushback from the (oil) industry,” he said.

Urbina felt that the documents surrounding the fracking piece were some of the craziest things he had read as an investigative journalist.

“So like, everyone knew there was radioactivity in the waste coming out of these wells,” he said. “But no one knew how much radioactivity.”

The fracking, which caused drastic leaks that seeped into sewage treatment plants, was utterly unknown to the nation until it was investigated.

 It took hours of poring over documents and piecing together each part of the puzzle little by little, but in the end, it worked out for him. That’s one of the key things to being a journalist–sifting through documents.

“If you can name the monster, you can beat the monster, and that’s true with document hunting,” he said.

Urbina had a team compile an extensive archive of the documents found, still accessible on the Times today. There have been no corrections made to the database, which contains approximately 500 pages of documents.

“Drilling Down” took at least four months to report, Urbina says. As far as requesting documents through the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA), Urbina typically expects a response within at least a year. 

A beat, data, documents, and spreadsheets are the tools for any journalist’s future. It’s also essential to consider distribution afterward. A reporter’s job is to break news, not follow it. 

What is key to investigative reporting is finding a new way to tell old stories, or new stories. 

That’s the space that Urbina lives in.

“You’re not done when you finish the story,” he said. “Don’t just put it in your paper.”

Written in 2023

“Go back to where you came from.” That was the top phrase I heard the entire time I’ve been a resident of the California Bible Belt.

There’s nothing original about growing up in the Inland Empire. It’s the suburbs—yet somehow still considered rural in parts. It’s a place where underrepresented populations are growing in number, but so are Trump flags and right-wing extremism.

In 2020, Riverside County—where I reside—declared racism a public health crisis. But racism has always been here. It’s in the air, in the politics, and sometimes literally in the air—I developed severe asthma from poor air quality, a byproduct of environmental racism. I once lived next to a house raided by the FBI for extremist activity. My local representative, Ken Calvert, welcomed Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene to attend a church service in my community—during a tour with indicted rapist Congressman Matt Gaetz.

It’s the kind of place where, in 2014, “patriots” blocked a road with linked arms to stop a bus of Central American immigrants, convinced they were defending land that was never theirs to begin with. This community sits on stolen land—look up the Temecula Indian Massacre.

And I live here.


Assimilation Is Not Safety

Being multigenerational doesn’t shield me from anything. I still live with my parents after my divorce. I still face systemic oppression—in healthcare, in schools, and in the workplace. I’ve spent half my life trying to break into a profession that doesn’t want me there. Not here. Not where my presence is questioned at every turn.

At 28, I took a DNA test and discovered I’m Indigenous. But I don’t know what tribe I came from. That’s erasure. That’s trauma. That’s assimilation. And no amount of “blending in” will save us.


Journalism Was Never Just a Job

I built a journalism career piece by piece. Assistant Opinion Editor at Cal State Fullerton’s Daily Titan. Reporter. Editor. Columnist. I investigated homelessness in Orange County and covered political unrest. In 2017, I helped cover a CSUF lecturer’s altercation with the campus Republican club and the protests that followed. That work resurfaced recently—because the threats haven’t gone away.

I’ve written for luxury magazines, indie rock blogs, and newspapers across Southern California. I helped de-platform a right-wing extremist on The Intercept. My team placed third in the California College Media Awards and was a finalist for the LA Press Club. I was proud. But even with those wins, self-doubt lingered—because race and class constantly press back.

I have two degrees, including a Master of Science in Communications and Journalism Innovation, and I’m earning a doctorate in Education. But even now, I know what it means to be overlooked.


Beyond DEI

Diversity, equity, and inclusion have become marketing buzzwords. DEI can be a trap—another way to tokenize BIPOC voices instead of truly listening.

I used to think my passion was journalism. But what I’ve come to realize is that my real passion is learning. It’s education. It’s digital literacy. It’s helping others navigate a world built to exclude them. I’m currently a full-time doctoral student researching the intersection of media, digital access, and educational equity.

Innovation starts with the words we write—in the classroom, on the internet, and in print. That’s how we build new pathways.


Rewriting My Own History

I write poetry now—mostly dark. It’s how I process. I look at the media landscape and feel haunted. I watch journalism become clickbait. I watch misinformation flood the platforms. I watch the rise of new precedents in media law that mirror the darkest parts of our history.

But I also see possibility.

Without writers, there is no record. Without journalists, there is no truth in print. I lost my culture through assimilation, but I refuse to stay disconnected from my heart.

Through research, education, and writing, I’ve traced pieces of my family tree. I’ve rebuilt what was erased. I’ve claimed space. And I’ve done it all while living with invisible illness, chronic pain, and neurodivergence.


Why I Keep Going

Why do I keep writing? Why am I still fighting for space in rooms that were never designed for me?

Because breaking generational cycles matters. Because education matters. Because there are students—readers—leaders—like me, still searching for a story that feels like home.

I’m not just chasing a degree. I’m chasing the freedom to write the truth, to teach it, and to make sure someone else doesn’t have to grow up wondering where they really come from.

In the end, we all become the exact same specks of atmospheric dust. But while I’m here, I’m going to make it count.


Written by Ashlyn Ramirez – Writer, Researcher, Educator

December 8, 2024

Introduction

Mixed methods analysis combines a range of qualitative and quantitative methodologies to produce results that facilitate interpretation (Johnson et al., 2007). It is becoming increasingly well-known for its ability to tackle research inquiries that remain challenging to understand. According to John Creswell, the researcher first draws “inferences from qualitative and quantitative data and then advances meta-inferences by integrating the two databases in a mixed methods study” (Creswell, 2022, p. 87). However, incorporating those studies can create ethical issues to address from the viewpoints of participants, researchers, and institutional review boards (IRBs). This proposal outlines these ethical concerns while highlighting the importance of the participant’s safety, the researcher’s neutrality, and regulatory compliance in practice. 

Additionally, the researcher will address any potential bias that may arise during the study and outline strategies to mitigate it. “All investigators involved in the conduct of research involving human subjects need to have an adequate understanding of the ethical principles of research and compliance requirements” (Fetters, 2020, p. 159). Aside from that, the proposal shows the processes for gaining site authorization, maintaining confidentiality, and creating data triangulation. Lastly, the researcher will include a diagram of the mixed-methods data collection and analysis process, as well as a discussion of the approach’s advantages and limitations. 

Participant Perspective Ethics

One must think about the participant’s point of view from different angles without bias. Those perspectives are characterized by a keen eye for protection, respect, and transparency; ethical considerations are the number one priority to consider. Making participants understand the study’s purpose, methods, and their rights to withdraw at any time is a need. Consent forms must clearly state potential risks and benefits in language that is accessible. Protecting participants’ personal information through anonymization, secure data storage, and limited access, ensuring confidentiality, is necessary. For qualitative strands, pseudonyms and general descriptions are used to identify participant perspectives without hindering the aspect of anonymity. Voluntary participation is necessary to avoid coercion or pressure in historically underrepresented communities. It is salient to think about those who are disabled or with limited resources or assistance availability as well.

Moreover, cultural sensitivity is needed to adapt to research methods that align with participants’ cultural norms. In retrospect, cultural sensitivity is invaluable, especially when working with historically excluded groups, such as Hispanic/Latinx community college students (Doran, 2023; Tagami & Reagan, 2022). Next to consider is the researcher’s perspective and the ethics that must be followed when conducting a scientific study.

Researcher Perspective Ethics

Researchers must balance methodological inclemency with moral answerability. Although the researcher hails from a marginalized community in the study, they did not attend a two-year institution. It is possible to eliminate bias from the survey by upholding journalistic integrity. Specific concerns include researchers’ previous roles or relationships with participants, as these can introduce or perpetuate bias. Reflexivity, or self-awareness of these catalysts, is requisite to maintain objectivity. Researchers must ensure neutrality in data interpretation. For example, triangulation—collecting data from multiple sources—minimizes the influence of personal biases. Participant engagement is essential. Creating a trusting researcher-participant relationship requires transparency and cultural acceptance, particularly in qualitative studies where further interaction occurs. It is significant to mitigate emotional or psychological distress, particularly during interviews on sensitive topics. To help participants navigate any anticipated discomfort, it is essential to provide resources or a wave of support in the form of assistance.

Institutional Review Board (IRB) Perspective

The IRB is necessary to maintain ethical research practices by reviewing study protocols. Ethical concerns from the IRB’s point of view encompass ensuring that the potential benefits of the research outweigh any risks to those participating. Adhering to federal guidelines, such as the Common Rule, and maintaining detailed documentation of all procedures is essential. Monitoring involves establishing mechanisms for ongoing oversight to address any problems that may arise during the study. Once the researcher establishes monitoring, it is possible to confirm that permissions are obtainable from the organizations or institutions where the research is to take place.

Qualitative Strand Procedures

Qualitative strand procedures start with access and authorization. Site access is available through formal agreements with institutional administrators that detail study objectives and participant requirements. The researcher-participant relationship must prioritize participant protection; otherwise, it will fail to function correctly. Key measures to remember include obtaining informed consent, implementing privacy safeguards, and adhering to secure data handling protocols. Trust-building strategies encompass active listening and cultural awareness across the board for researchers. Methods such as pre-interviews or informal conversations facilitate the building of a relationship between the researcher and the participant. Integrating data from interviews, focus groups, and observational notes strengthens validity.

Role of the Researcher

Researchers act as facilitators of information exchange. However, their past or present roles, such as being a faculty member or colleague, must be disclosed to participants. Awareness of how these relationships might influence data collection is crucial. Transparent communication helps mitigate potential conflicts of interest.

Mixed Methods Design: Procedures and Diagram

In this ongoing study, the researcher will conduct qualitative interviews before collecting quantitative data to identify patterns. The study follows an explanatory sequential design. The diagram below outlines the process.

Advantages and Limitations of Mixed Methods

One of the most significant advantages of a mixed-methods study is that it analyzes numerical data in conjunction with an explanatory context; the context provides an in-depth and comprehensive overview. Then, the researcher will use triangulation to strengthen validity by confirming the findings, which will naturally be extensive due to the multiple methods used in the study. Another advantage of using mixed methods for this study is the flexibility. One can adapt to research questions that might be challenging or thought-provoking, creating space for an in-depth conversation. Some limitations to consider include potential project obstacles, the time and effort required for the study, and the possibility of misinterpreted data. Because it requires careful planning, time, and resources to integrate diverse data types effectively, contradictory findings between strands can further complicate interpretation.

Conclusion

Ethical considerations are rudimentary in planning and conducting mixed-methods research. By addressing these issues from the perspectives of the participant, researcher, and IRB, researchers can ensure their study conduct is accountable and inherently effective. Combining each process part to create a catalyst of intricate procedures for the protection of the participant, site authorization, and triangulation further bolsters the research’s credibility (Fetters, 2020, p. 100; Creswell, 2014). Mixed-methods research showcases distinctive advantages despite its complexities, making it an ideal tool for addressing multifaceted research questions.

References

Creswell, J. W. (2022). A concise introduction to mixed methods research (2nd ed.). SAGE Publications.

Creswell, J. W. (2014). Research design: Qualitative, quantitative, and mixed methods approaches. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage.

Doran, E. (2023). Applying the Servingness Framework to Hispanic-Serving Community Colleges: An Environmental Scan. Journal of Applied Research in the Community College, 30(2), 85–100.

Fetters, M. D. (2020). The mixed methods research workbook: Activities for designing, implementing, and publishing projects. SAGE Publications.

Johnson, R. Burke, Anthony J. Onwuegbuzie, & Lisa A. Turner. (2007). Toward a definition of mixed methods research. Journal of Mixed Methods Research 1:112–133.Tagami, M., & Reagan, M. (2022, November 17). Are California’s Hispanic serving institutions living up to their name? CalMatters. https://calmatters.org/education/higher-education/college-beat/2022/11/hispanic-serving-institutions-california/