Reticence, gender, and deindustrialisation: oral history challenges emerging within deindustrialisation studies and labour history

ABSTRACT This article presents a reflective review of the challenges of interviewing hard-to-reach and marginalised groups when employing an oral history methodology. Using Belfast, Northern Ireland, as a case study, the article reflects on the significance of social and cultural markers that must be contended with, and argues for the importance of responsible research in response to instances of reticence. In addition, this article reviews the challenges faced by the author with regards to the gendered dimensions of deindustrialisation studies, particularly when interviewing women about the familial experiences of the deindustrialisation of heavy industry. The article advocates for compassionate approaches within an oral history methodology, particularly in post-conflict societies where unresolved trauma and complex ethno-cultural identities exist. Considering such issues, offers an opportunity to reenergise and expand the scope of labour history and deindustrialisation studies.


Introduction
Deindustrialisation and its after-effects were experiences felt by entire family units.The inevitable instances of precarious employment and redundancy that occurred during industrial decline impacted familial employment and household patterns.Yet, despite this, little research has been conducted into the experiences of the women and families of industrial workers during the processes of deindustrialisation.Moreover, little research has been done into the ways in which deindustrialisation affected women's everyday lives, its impact on their family units, and how families adapted in the face of upheaval.This is a matter that the Deindustrialisation and Politics of Our Time (DéPOT) project aims to tackle which will ultimately enhance the fields of labour history and deindustrialisation studies.
This article reflects on the fieldwork aspect of my doctoral research.My thesis investigates the impact of shipyard decline on women and families in Northern Ireland and the West of Scotland between 1970-2000.The research is in response to the contradictory traditional gendered dynamics often portrayed within both cities' heavy industrial past and the significant long-term social costs that have occurred in the aftermath of deindustrialisation in both cities, issues that include: on-going unemployment; health and addiction problems; and a lack of meaningful employment in postindustrial communities (Walsh et al., 2009).
When I arrived in Belfast in the Autumn of 2022 it became apparent that significant localised socio-cultural dynamics would create challenges with regards to the completion of my oral history fieldwork.This article will reflect upon the considerations that emerged throughout the interview CONTACT Shonagh L. Joice sjoice01@qub.ac.ukHistory, Anthropology, Philosophy and Politics, Queen's University Belfast, Belfast, Northern Ireland recruitment process and its aftermath when trying to connect with hard-to-reach and marginalised groups.In the context of this research, the term 'marginalised groups' is two-fold.Firstly, it refers to the close-knit Protestant-Unionist-Loyalist (PUL) working-class community of East Belfast that formed the majority of the workforce at the Harland and Wolff shipbuilding company.Secondly, it signifies the gendered challenges that emerged when trying to recruit and record the narratives of women against the backdrop of deindustrialisation.It must also be noted, that although my thesis studies Northern Ireland and the West of Scotland, this article will focus upon the Belfast case, as the unique cultural context within the city led to issues of reticence and a lack of engagement throughout the recruitment process that did not occur with the West of Scotland case study.This article will argue that there is a need to acknowledge the specific socio-cultural contexts when conducting research and the limitations this may have on the results.This approach to research highlighted that gendered structures still dictate the ways in which individuals reflect upon deindustrialisation, particularly in heavy industrial communities.Ultimately, traditional male views and a protection of the masculine narrative influence what is, and is not, deemed significant within the discussion of labour history and deindustrialisation studies.Furthermore, argument is given for a compassionate and understanding methodological approach when studying postconflict societies.Thus, I would argue that addressing the aforementioned challenges could energise labour history and deindustrialisation studies more generally to expand the scope of the fields.
In terms of structure, the article begins with a discussion of the oral history concepts that are paramount in this research: reticence, silence, and insider-outsider positionality.The first section will conclude with a discussion of the importance of self-reflexivity within such methods.Secondly, context will be provided on the shipbuilding industries in Britain and Northern Ireland.Thereafter, the article identifies three key challenges that impacted the success of the fieldwork; the suspicion of the PUL community towards outsiders, the gendered issues in locating women in the community and their beliefs that their narratives were insignificant, and the pervasiveness of the Troubles within popular consciousness in Belfast.At the same time, reflection and reasoning will be given to these hurdles.Finally, assessment will be given on the importance of responsible research in post-conflict societies where individuals may still possess unresolved trauma or anxiety, the right to say 'no' to research participation, and the complexities that gender focussed research brings to deindustrialisation studies.

Oral history: reticence, silence & insider-outsider challenges
My fieldwork utilised an oral history methodology.Often advocated by its practitioners as a means to democratise the study of history by providing power to previously under-represented communities and give a valuable opportunity for individuals to narrate their lived experiences in their own words.Consequently, oral history has become a popular methodology in deindustrialisation studies and labour history more broadly.The methodology has also become a logical approach within the two fields due to a lack of working-class voices within many written archival resources.Yet, as the scope of deindustrialisation studies expands outwards from its labour history origins into social, cultural and gendered spheres, consideration must be given as to how marginalised groups are best included and represented within oral histories of the field to ensure all relevant working-class voices are not lost.
The dominant challenge of employing oral history in Belfast was the reticence of the PUL community who utilise this as a tool to distance researchers and protect their own historical narratives.This, when paired with a more general suspicion of outsiders, made connecting with women in the community challenging.Reticence in oral history can be defined as an 'interviewees' reluctance or unwillingness to discuss problematic topics' (Riseman, 2018, p. 85).Or alternatively reticence can be 'an assertion of [a] narrators' authority' by deciding what they deem to be relevant and 'appropriate' for 'the public record' (Layman, 2016, pp. 235-236).This form of reticence became a significant obstacle when employing oral history, as a successful use of the methodology is conditional on the consent and participation of individuals.In addition to reticence, silence has also become a powerful tool for marginalised communities.Freund (2013) describes this: Silences are a constitutive part of oral history interviews.Silences may express individual or collective forgetting, collaborative remembering, discomfort, reluctance, (self-) censorship, non-compliance, confrontation, reticence, politeness, fear, anger, deceit, taboos, secrets, contemplation, concern for the other, reflection, conformity, or that which need not be told.Some silences are explicit or obvious, others are not.Interviewees' silences may be an effect of oppression or agency.(p.223) Freund's lengthy definition emphasises the complicated nature of silences, and their use as both a tool of power and oppression.Yet, although one of the key attractions of oral history is to democratise the historic record, it is not always well received by a community.Sheftel (2013) stated of her PhD fieldwork '[o]nce I found myself in the field trying to put these lofty ideas into practise . . .I discovered that giving a voice to the voiceless was more difficult and ambiguous than I had realised' (p.255).Such was the case in East Belfast when I arrived there to investigate gender and shipyard deindustrialisation in Autumn 2022.
Understanding and acknowledging the impact of your positionality, as an insider or outsider, has been well-discussed within the social sciences.The terms 'insider/outsider' denote a prior connection or relationship to the community or group being researched, or it refers to common experience, identity, beliefs, heritage, or culture.As such, it is often contended that both positions present different benefits and hindrances to the research process, which are dependent on the researcher's positionality, the research subject, and the participant profile.Anna Bryson (2007) has discussed the advantages and disadvantages of being an insider in the community in the Northern Irish context.Bryson states that being an outsider to Northern Ireland is often perceived as being beneficial, as it suggests political and religious neutrality.However, in her experience, Bryson found that her insider status was beneficial for recruitment when researching her hometown, Maghera.Her existing relationships provided her with contacts, trust, and personal awareness, despite the religious differences between herself and some of the interviewees.Undoubtedly, the differences in religious background impacted the inter-subjectivity and narratives of the interviews, but her status as an insider aided her in initially connecting with both Catholic and Protestant individuals.Hodson (2018) contends that remembering in Northern Ireland can be 'dangerous' as the Troubles may permeate any oral history interview discussing the years between 1969 and 1998 (p.8).Consequently, only an intimate insider may be able to access these narratives.Interviewees may require significant levels of psychological trust and comfort to discuss topics that may trigger distressing memories, such as the Troubles.My outsider status created barriers as I had no pre-existing networks or contact with gatekeepers within the community.This ultimately resulted in limited access to potential interviewees.
This article will follow a reflective approach.Reflection and self-critique are powerful tools within an oral history methodology as they provide an opportunity to reflect professionally and personally, to ultimately 'strengthen the field of oral history' (Sheftel & Zembrzycki, 2013, p. 3).Sharing successful and less successful techniques and experiences can also provide much guidance and comfort to new and early career researchers, which is what I hope to achieve.Moreover, reflective practices and accountability maintain the best practise within the field and thus, it has become an important part of studying marginalised groups in the fields of deindustrialisation studies and labour history.

Background -shipbuilding in Britain and Northern Ireland
British shipbuilding at the beginning of the twentieth century was a dominant force within the world market, producing 60% of global output in 1911, but this figure would decrease to 10% by 1960 (Lorenz, 1991).The industry experienced a short-lived boom in the aftermath of the Second World War, however, it fell into decline from the 1960s.Multiple factors led to this decline: issues such as, international competition, political flux, lack of modernisation and erratic management-worker relations.The period between 1970 and 1990 witnessed political fluctuation, with the elected British government alternating between the Labour and Conservative parties.The Labour Government of 1974-1979 attempted to limit the deterioration of the industry through nationalisation via the Aircraft and Shipbuilding Industries Act of 1977.However, this process was reversed by the Conservative Government, 1979Government, -1997, through a process of privatisation.
Belfast benefitted from the global power of British shipbuilding.It became a key industry in Northern Ireland with Harland and Wolff as a major employer.However, employment at the yard declined throughout the late twentieth-century which is reflected in an overall reduction of 60% in employment within shipbuilding and marine engineering in Northern Ireland between 1950and 1976(Byrne, 2006)).More specifically, the employment numbers at Harland and Wolff fell from 13,019 in 1965 to 1,421 in 1997 (Connors, 2009).This period of decline was framed against the ethnosectarian conflict, The Troubles, 1969-1998, which ultimately claimed 3,532 lives (Conflict Archive on the Internet, n.d.).Although the operation of the yard was seen by the British Government to possess 'no economic or commercial justification', the yard received significant financial support from the British Government between 1975 and the shipyard's privatisation in 1989, ultimately totalling £336million (Public Record Office of Northern Ireland, 1985).This attempt to slow the deindustrialisation of the yard was driven by fears over 'the possible political and security implications of closure' and that heightened unemployment levels would feed loyalist para-military recruitment (Public Record Office of Northern Ireland, 1985).Now that basic context has been given into shipbuilding in Britain and Northern Ireland, a breakdown and reflection of the key challenges that were faced will commence.

Key challenges
In Belfast, three key challenges emerged throughout the process of the field work.Firstly, these came in the form of suspicion of the PUL community towards outsiders; secondly, gendered issues in locating and connecting with women in the community; and thirdly the pervasiveness of the Troubles within living memory.The combination of these three issues made it hard to gain the trust of the women and encourage them to participate in recorded interviews.This section will commence with framing the interview recruitment process and continue with a discussion and reflection on these two key issues.

Interview recruitment process
The interview recruitment process began by focussing on Belfast.To connect with women in the community I planned to connect with gatekeepers and community workers, visit community spaces, and utilise social media and online forums.Throughout the process, I reviewed with colleagues, academics, and local historians in the field, what methods were and were not effective and adapted accordingly.I connected with community support workers, visited four local community groups in areas where shipbuilding families used to live, and held reflective discussion sessions during which attendees reflected on Belfast's industrial past.Recruitment posters and leaflets were distributed to local businesses and community centres.As time progressed, the posters were revised multiple times with different phrasing, layouts, and photos for different targeted groups.I held community 'Tea and Talk Sessions', aiming to encourage reflection as a group and to allow potential participants to familiarise themselves with the research and myself.I engaged with multiple community and reflective Facebook pages.Contact was made with individuals who had been interviewed in previous research projects and calls for participants were emailed to all staff and students, undergraduate and post-graduate, in my faculty at the university.I liaised with a Queen's University media officer who circulated my call for participants on the university website, the staff bulletin, and an article was published in the Belfast Newsletter reiterating my call for participants.Finally, I widened my historical time-period in the hopes of capturing more potential interviewees.
Unfortunately, these efforts yielded few results.I had hoped that word-of-mouth would connect me with potential interviewees once I had gained the trust of community members and gatekeepers, however, this did not happen.News of the project received good engagement on Facebook and Twitter.However, although the posts gained significant traction, and received comments, when an interview was proposed the majority of people refused or stopped responding.Working through community groups, while beneficial for providing face-to-face contact with women, led to delays in recruitment, due to cancellation at short notice, double bookings in community centre scheduling, irregular attendance, and on-site closures.Despite this, I attended numerous community centres on a weekly basis to build relationships with the women.Furthermore, I adapted my approaches towards the reflection sessions and incorporated images and newspaper resources to stimulate discussion of the period in question.This proved fruitful and the women enjoyed the visual sources, and they reminisced and shared laughter about the memories they evoked.Regardless of this, the women at the community centres remained reluctant to participate, and this was not eased by returning to the community centres for multiple visits, validating their experiences, and explaining or reiterating that their narratives could be anonymous.In addition, the majority of women in attendance that week had no connections to the shipyards, and those who did, suggested I speak to the men in the community to receive further answers to my questions.The two 'Tea and Talk' sessions were not as well attended as hoped, despite confirmation from potential attendees online and in person, the circulation of advertisements in local businesses and community groups.Significantly, the main attendees were men who came to reminisce about their days working in the yards, and when I enquired about their wives I was met with confusion and hesitation.
In distinct contrast, recruitment in Glasgow was a much smoother process.Word of mouth was the most successful method, and connections to women in the community were never more than a few steps away.These connections came through extended networks of colleagues, family, friends, and neighbours.In addition, I connected with local heritage groups, the Clydebank Asbestos Group, and academics who provided guidance and support where possible.I also utilised social media, which provided mixed success.So far, there has been no instances of snowball recruitment, and no interviewees have referred me onto other potential Glasgow interviewees.

Challenge one -the PUL community: a guarded community
The first challenge emerged when trying to gain the trust of the PUL community in East Belfast.Historically, the Protestant community 'dominated' well-paid and skilled work, such as shipbuilding, and engineering (Muttarak et al., 2013, p. 56).Harland and Wolff's predominantly Protestant workforce was a historic element of Belfast's labour market inequalities (Hepburn, 2008).These inequalities were maintained by apprenticeship schemes, nepotism, and gatekeeping which 'consolidated' the 'Protestant advantage' into a form of labour market aristocracy and relegated Catholic individuals to semi-skilled or unskilled work (Hepburn, 2008, p. 18).This sectarian sentiment made the shipyard a hostile, and unsafe environment for Catholic workers, ultimately resulting in the expulsion of Catholic workers in the 1970s, and the murder of a Catholic welder Maurice O'Kane by the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF) in the yard in 1994.Subsequently, the social memory and symbolism of the shipyard is complicated.For the PUL community, Harland and Wolff was a symbol of Britishness and Belfast's important role within the empire.However, for the Catholic-Nationalist-Republican (CNR) community, it was seen as an indication of the British Government's preferential treatment of the Protestant community (Hodson, 2019).
The complex and contentious socio-cultural pasts and identities, makes Belfast a highly distinctive and specific case when studying deindustrialisation.Since the Good Friday Agreement, April 1998, the PUL community has become increasingly insular, guarded, and suspicious of outsiders.The suspicion of the PUL community towards outsiders, and particularly researchers, is a result of previous misrepresentations and unfavourable depictions of the community within the media and academia (Burgess & Mulvenna, 2015).There is a belief that the intention of the media is to 'belittle', 'parody ' and mock them (O'Doherty, 2015, p. 31).As such, the community has learned to exercise reticence and silence to avoid such misrepresentations.Arguably, the Protestant working-class had more to lose in the peace negotiations.The introduction of Government power sharing; the Fair Employment Acts, 1976 and1989; and anti-discrimination processes attempted to rebalance the historic inequalities between the PUL and CNR communities.This, amongst many other factors, is argued to have led to a belief within the PUL community that they lost out in the peace negotiations as their perceived position within society was realigned and renegotiated.The structural and political changes that occurred within Northern Ireland throughout the peace process were seen by some of the PUL community as 'eroding unionist values and principles' for which they saw 'no obvious benefits' (Shirlow & Murtagh, 2006, p. 38).J. Anderson and Shuttleworth (1994) argue that 'in the sectarian mind-set nothing "ordinary" happens in Northern Ireland' such as deindustrialisation or suburbanisation 'only sectarian political causes and sectarian political effects' (p.79).
It is important to acknowledge the complicated nature of identity, specifically political and religious identity, in Northern Ireland if we are to avoid reiterating harmful and divisive stereotypes, and the over-simplification of the two ethno-religious communities as distinctly Nationalist or Unionist.Colin Coulter (1999) argues that academics have often possessed 'a distinctly narrow understanding of social and political identity in the six counties' in which people are assigned to the groupings 'Unionist' or 'Nationalist' (p.2).This 'narrow' view overlooks the nuances and complexities within individual identity, and that many individuals will not fall distinctly on either side.Moreover, the perception that the Unionist or Nationalist, or Protestant and Catholic, communities are homogenous groups is also false, as different ideological and personal identities create varied and unique populations.Burgess and Mulvenna (2015) explain that '[i]ssues of social class, denominational alignment, political aspiration and national identity have historically divided what outsiders have often mistakenly viewed as a collective cultural, religious and sociopolitical monolith, a perception which could not be further from the truth' (p. 1).This is reiterated by Coulter (1999) who states that, '[w]hile ethnonational feeling evidently represents an essential source of social and political identity in Northern Ireland it is not, however, the only one' (p.2).My research aims to contribute to this school of thought and avoid recycling divisive stereotypes.However, the challenges faced illustrated the complications within personal and communal identity within Belfast.
Due to the suspicions and insular nature of the PUL community, academics have struggled to connect.Pete Hodson (2018) discussed his experiences of trying to connect with the PUL community when conducting doctoral research.He states that, '[t]he primary fear I detected was of misrepresentation.Silence is a powerful weapon in working-class communities, a "defence mechanism" used to ward-off inquisitive strangers' (p.4).Hodson initially experienced hostility; he was asked, 'And who the fuck are you?' when enquiring about ex-shipbuilders in a local pub (Hodson, 2018, p. 5).This silence and refusal have recently been experienced in 2023 by the Belfast Stories Project.The project aims to establish a visitor centre in the Belfast city centre, which will house an unbiased interactive experience that reflects the stories of those living in Belfast, 'stories of love and loss, conflict and peace, history and hope' (Belfast City Council, n.d.).However, despite the unifying ambitions of the project some members of the PUL community have voiced their concern.Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) Councillor Ian McLaughlin argues, PUL communities are used as 'fishbowl[s] for tourism'.He continues '[t]he thing that puts people off from my community . . . is that they are subject to stories, told to tourists . . .Some of the stories . . .are absolutely ridiculous, and as far removed from the truth as they ever could be' (Kenwood, 2023).Similar criticisms have been made of the Titanic Museum, where ex-Harland and Wolff workers have been 'unwilling' to recount their memories to be 'recycled for tourist consumption' by museum tour guides (Hodson, 2019, p. 238).This stimulates larger debates regarding the heritagisation of working-class communities and who that heritage is for, debates that are unfortunately outside the scope of this article.Thus, as can be seen, apprehension exists over the intended use of the collected narratives, and the commodification of working-class testimonies in commercial heritage projects.Concerns over manipulation and sensationalism, also link to the public nature of oral history research and given the community's previous experiences it is understandable for the group to be wary of the intentions of outsiders.A request to submit a narrative to an archive to be assessed and analysed by researchers, and the public, can be a cause of silence and reticence, particularly when misrepresentation has occurred in the past.Sometimes these concerns cannot be remedied by the safeguarding efforts of informed consent, or the offer of pseudonyms or anonymity.
In my experience, the community's suspicion of researchers and apprehension about participation in research was exacerbated by my status as an outsider.It became clear that I was a distinct outsider.There was potential for assumptions to be made about my positionality through my name, appearance, and Glaswegian accent.During my fieldwork process, I was informed by other PhD students from Northern Ireland that my name and appearance led them to assume I was a member of the CNR community.This was accentuated by me being Glaswegian, a city with significant CNR heritage and sectarian issues of its own.It became apparent that I was not regarded as a neutral outsider, as I had originally thought.Thus, it would be understandable if these initial assumptions led to concerns regarding my intentions, and ultimately led to instances of reticence.
In addition, it must be noted, I am not from a shipbuilding family and thus, I am not an insider to the community within Glasgow.Yet, my differing background did not act as a hindrance to accessing potential interviewees.Most of the women I approached in Glasgow were unsure that their memories or experiences were noteworthy but were 'happy to help in any way' that they could (Gracey, personal communication, 2023).It seemed in Glasgow, there was a lack of suspicion from interviewees, and while the women were often apprehensive initially, they still agreed to interviews.Ultimately, the differences in recruitment efficiency, when employing the same methods, in the two locations were stark.Interviewing women in both locations highlighted the gendered discourse that surrounds the topic of the deindustrialisation of heavy industries.In both locations, the women did not believe it was their place to share, regardless of the focus upon the familial and community experience.

Challenge two -interviewing women in the context of heavy industry
Ultimately, the challenges that surrounded the PUL community were compounded by gender issues.More specifically, these issues were, locating women and encouraging them that their experiences are of note.Overall, limited amounts of data exist regarding women's lived experiences of industrial decline and thus researchers must dig deeper to contextualise their lived experiences.
A key issue in this case was the question of how to locate the women.Without the existence of dedicated women's spaces in connection to the yard, or women's and family groups containing the women from the period in question, locating specific women was challenging.In addition, Belfast has witnessed large outward migration that was accelerated by both deindustrialisation and the Troubles (Grant Thornton & Belfast Chamber, 2022).The city experienced a 55% decline in population between 1961-1991.In 1961 the city's population was 415,856, which dropped to 362,082 in 1971and 236,116 in 1991(Connolly & McIntosh, 2012).In some circumstances, this decline in population levels is accounted for by an increase in surrounding suburban areas, as families fled the urban conflict-ridden zone to perceived safer areas.Consequently, women who fit the interviewee profile now live in other areas of Northern Ireland, the UK, and more globally, and with no way to track these women down, no means of contact exists.These are issues that are common in other post-industrial communities, and thus the ways that researchers locate and communicate with potential female interviewees must be given careful consideration.
The second main challenge that emerged when recruiting and interviewing women was a belief that 'they didn't know anything' and that it was not their place to comment on the decline of the yards.The existence of the shipyard as a male dominated workplace determined who was qualified to discuss the experience of decline.The cultural dialogue that surrounds the yard as a masculine space was most evident through conversations with male ex-shipyard workers.In these instances, a specific communal memory was shared, a folklore of the yards.Nearly every male worker recounted the nicknames given in the shipyard, the camaraderie, the 'banter', and stories of the hobbies and skills shipyard workers possessed.These anecdotes were shared without prompting and were rich in nostalgia and longing for a long-gone industrial past, with the men often stating that they would have returned to work in the shipyard if the opportunity had arisen.It was clear that the ex-workers enjoyed recounting these stories and enjoyed sharing the humour of the workplace.Anecdotes of this kind were also shared by women at the community centres and in community spaces.Thus, signalling that the communal memory was shared and learned amongst the entire community.During these encounters there was little space to divert from the shared communal memories, questions that disrupted this shared narrative were quickly dismissed or answered with brief responses.
As such, there was an overall confusion and dismissiveness from both men and women, that the focus of the research was the experiences of women.This line of research disrupted the dominant narrative and individuals found it challenging to see a connection between women and the shipyards.This perception was evident when communicating with men in the area, who sometimes acted as gatekeepers, blocking access, and obscuring the women in the community.Their overall response to the research was one of dismissal, disinterest, and confusion.More specifically, the dismissal and confusion was in response to the focus of the research being family, women, and community.This attitude was shared in person and in online comments.The first comment I received was on the Belfast Forum, an online chatroom, which reads, 'maybe you'll get a book out of it.And that book will be found in the squeeze a feminist book out of a total male issue section of the bookshop' (Belfast Forum, 2023).Further engagement on this post also mocked the notion of researching women in previously male dominated topics, commenting that recent research into women's roles of the Second World War detracted from the real 'heroes' in the historic record (Belfast Forum, 2023).Until this point, I had been struggling in Belfast to encourage women in the PUL community to do a recorded interview, and the exchange that occurred here somewhat confirmed the passive dismissal I was experiencing in relation to the research.Passive dismissal from men was consistent across both cities.The Clydebank Echo, a local paper in the industrial heartland of Clydebank published an article to aid my recruitment.One reader commented, 'it makes perfect sense that Ms. Joice would want opinions of women, as it was a woman who was in charge of the UK government that caused the deindustrialisation of this country' (Whyte, 2023).
The comments I received online are indicative of a wider scepticism about using the lens of gender to study deindustrialisation.They signal an over-arching belief that deindustrialisation, in these two settings, did not directly impact women and consequently women's narratives are irrelevant.There is an implication that, in this case, the 'feminist', or women centred, aspect of the research is attempting to dismiss the experiences of men and rewrite the narrative.Of course, this is not the case.This research does not aim to force a 'male-issue' into a 'feminist book'.It does not intend to discredit or belittle any male experience.It aims to widen the scope of enquiry to include women and the family in the social and cultural aspect of deindustrialisation studies, and how women's experiences occurred alongside, and intersected, with men's.Deindustrialisation, job-loss, and redundancy were experiences felt by entire family units, and thus enquiring about these familial experiences allows us to understand the wide-ranging and long-term implications that industrial decline had upon communities.The engagement with my post on the Belfast Forum was sarcastic in tone and highlighted a bitterness and animosity towards the increasing focus on women in historical questions that previously had been dominated by narratives about the successes of men (Belfast Forum, 2023).The comments are dismissive in tone, dismissive of the research, and of women's experiences overall.Thus, against this backdrop it is unsurprising that women did not think they had anything of value to contribute, and that their experiences are unimportant.
The comments also signal a desire to protect a particular narrative, one that values the skilled male workforce, and the issue of male joblessness.Lenore Layman (2016) found a similar desire to protect a masculine narrative in her study of the East Perth Power Station.Layman found that the exworkers wanted to share a specific narrative about the 'significant history' of the station one which mainly focussed on their 'skilled' work in an 'essential service' (p.240).The station was a symbol of their skilled work, pride-evoking heritage, and ultimately their masculine identity.Subsequently, they avoided topics they deemed to be trivial and tantamount to gossip, as it would detract from the legacy they wanted to establish.Layman (2016) argues that 'in their perception, they are trivialised if the power station's history is not seriously told' (p.240).A connection can be seen between Layman's findings and the consistent communal memory that was shared by workers and those in the community in East Belfast.Industrial work holds significant pride for many individuals and communities.East Belfast is no different, shipbuilding is memorialised through murals and sculptures in the area and concerns regarding the 'trivialisation' of history rings true for Belfast.
One of oral history's limitations is that only the vocal members of a community will participate.In this instance, the silent members of the community were mainly women.Sheftel (2013)

states that
The Achilles' heel of oral history is that we only hear the stories of the people who are willing to speak to us; we can never learn about the full range of experiences and memories within a given community because there will always be some who will not speak.(p. 256) In this instance, this was impacted by gender structures and dynamics.This is particularly problematic within the field of deindustrialisation studies and when studying marginalised groups, such as women in post-industrial communities.K. Anderson and Jack (2016) argue that women inadvertently mute themselves when their experiences do not align with men's.Thus, the dominant narratives continue to reflect the male experience over the female.In this case, women's narratives will become more challenging to access as the dominant male narrative becomes solidified within collective consciousness.The same could be said for other marginalised groups within deindustrialisation studies, for example, groups where issues of race or queerness also intersect.There is no 'known' history of women's experiences in this case as opportunity to speak has not yet arisen.Thus, the dialogue or narrative can be hard to compose.This aligns with Summerfield (2004) who argues that individual memories that do not fit with the dominant narrative are hard to share.As we extend the scope of our research beyond the dominant narratives of deindustrialisation, and move toward exploring the experiences of entire working-class communities, the question arises, how do we encourage and include those who feel they exist on the peripheries of such events?Those who feel it is not their story to tell.
It is clear that traditional gender structures still dictate the ways in which individuals reflect upon deindustrialisation.Despite the impact of the experience upon women, some men and women within post-industrial communities still believe it is not a women's story to tell.

Challenge three: oral history in a post-conflict society
Belfast's cultural context is highly complex due to the pervasiveness of the Troubles in communal memory.This is a challenging context for new scholars to enter and consequently it stimulates personal evaluation of a researchers moral and ethical code.Legacies and memories of the civil conflict remain raw to the present day, and as Bryson (2007) states, 'memories were inevitably filtered through the prism of the Troubles' (p.51).Contentious issues caused by the Troubles were exacerbated by debates surrounding Brexit, and the Northern Ireland Protocol which had not yet reached a resolution when I was conducting my fieldwork.Through these issues the Troubles remains an open wound, and threats of violence remain a concern for residents, as such, 'the conflict has not ended . . . the past is the present' (Bell, 2002(Bell, , p.1099)).Due to this, I felt uncomfortable pushing women to do interviews when their experiences may be entangled with deeply traumatic memories.Hodson (2018) found that memories of the Troubles were intermingled amongst the narratives of the shipyards, stating, 'it became clear rather quickly that the two strands could not be separated -to interview shipyard workers without discussing the concurrent Troubles proved impossible ' (p. 6).It must be asked if this could be a reason for the refusal of women to take part in interviews.Discussion of the Troubles emerged at community centre visits, and the responses of the women in these moments revealed their relationships to the memory and legacy of the Troubles.On a notable occasion at Inverary Community Centre, in East Belfast, an attendee gave her unfavourable opinion of a politician.Another attendee responded, in a calm manner, reminding her that comments of the sort 'had no place' at their group meeting, and reminded the first speaker of the group's varied political and religious experiences and viewpoints.There was a notable mood shift and the atmosphere in the room became tense and uncomfortable.In response, the first speaker became visibly anxious and upset, as she apologised multiple times to the second woman.This is suggestive of Northern Ireland's approach to handling the complex and uncomfortable memory of the Troubles, explained by Lundy and McGovern as a 'duty to forget' (Lundy & McGovern, 2008, p. 43).This exchange served as a reminder that even though these women attended the same social group every week, they did not discuss each other's affiliations, or backgrounds.Thus, it is fair to question whether this was a contributing factor to women's apprehension about being interviewed for the research.In addition, the cultural context of the Troubles may trigger traumatic memories for individuals that may not be related to deindustrialisation, but the violence that occurred alongside it.Harland and Wolff was a site of segregation and awareness of the yard's sectarian environment and practices may also serve as a reason for the silence of the PUL community.It is important to note that not all those employed in the shipyard participated in these intimidation tactics or hostilities, but when discussing the Troubles and the shipyard the reality of such experiences must be acknowledged.Ultimately, the controversial and complex history of the shipyard has led the community to avoid discussing and divulging uncomfortable narratives that may include instances of religious discrimination, sectarianism, and violence (Hodson, 2018).

Responsible research, reticence and power: the right to say 'no'
Throughout my research and in response to the challenges discussed, I have grown increasingly reflective about the importance of responsible research and the potential interviewee's right to say 'no' to participation, particularly in a post-conflict society.Overall, I have gained a more compassionate view of the agency of potential interviewees and the role of the researcher.Refusal to participate, and the right to withdraw from research, are key ethical underpinnings within oral history and in wider research involving human participants.This is more vital when studying a postconflict society, where instances of underlying and unresolved trauma may exist.However, instances of refusal by a community or social group are discussed rarely and it must be questioned how issues like this impact the fields of labour history and deindustrialisation studies.
How hard do we 'push', or how many times can an interview be proposed before it feels like harassment and coercion?K'Meyer and Crothers (2007) state that, '[h]istorians must search for the story behind the story' (p.91).However, refusing to participate and relinquish your testimony retains power within community, and limits feelings of exploitation.This reaction cannot be faulted, particularly if the community has been subject to misrepresentation in the past.Sometimes this cannot be remedied by building a relationship and rapport.It is, undoubtedly, a disappointing result as a historian and researcher when someone rejects a request to participate but a researcher's first responsibility is to their interviewees, and to documenting their narratives responsibly and respectfully.It is essential for researchers to be sympathetic to the desires and comfort of their narrators.Historians and researchers are not entitled to an individual's narrative, regardless of their altruistic intentions.Valerie Yow (1997) in an influential essay discussed not pushing interviews for whom she felt 'affection', so as not to make them feel 'discomfort ' (p. 76).This, I would argue, is a compassionate approach and in circumstances where the topic is contentious and uncomfortable, being wary and aware of your interviewee's comfort is imperative.George Severs (2020) equated his response to an interviewee's reticence as 'the ethical course of action' due to the 'sadness of the subject' during his research on the AIDs crisis and the Church of England (p.53).A plethora of unanswered questions surround a much deeper issue of collective trauma and silence, and the correct moral and ethical approaches when trying to recruit from communities that may possess high instances of unresolved trauma.Researchers have a responsibility towards their participants to ensure their well-being, and to avoid retraumatising them when discussing difficult pasts.These duties must supersede uncovering a story.This is relevant to interviews regarding industrial decline and the potentially distressing or traumatic memories that may intersect and exist alongside these narratives.
In the future, it would be intriguing to see if an 'insider' from the community, perhaps placed in an internship with a heritage or community organisation, over a longer period of immersion within the community, may gain more engagement.The gendered aspect of the research would lend itself to a community based and collaborative project to record and reflect on women's everyday experiences.Of course, there are time and material limitations as to what can be completed throughout the duration of a PhD, and further financial complications that accompany voluntary and council run organisations.Regardless, a collaborative project with a well-resourced and trusted organisation would be a valuable opportunity for women in the community to reflect.

Deindustrialisation studies and gender
It is apparent that larger questions are emerging within deindustrialisation studies regarding gender focused research.Conversations pertaining to gender issues have been at the forefront of oral history theoretical debates since the late 1970s.However, discussions regarding the best theoretical and methodological approaches to studying gender in the context of deindustrialisation are yet to fully emerge.Discussing these experiences with colleagues within the DéPOT research project, has highlighted that these gendered challenges are not unique.
After discussions with colleagues at the DéPOT 2023 conference it is clear that there are significant hurdles to overcome with regards to gender and deindustrialisation studies, and similar challenges have been faced by scholars, students, and heritage partners alike.Most fundamentally, they include the issue of locating women, encouraging them to participate in interviews, reassuring them that their experiences are valid and noteworthy, and convincing them that deindustrialisation is also their story to tell.When researching gender and deindustrialisation flexible approaches may be necessary.We need to be adaptable in our questions, research and interview approaches, potentially utilising group interviewing, reflection sessions or community based collaborative projects.It may be beneficial to employ multiple methodological approaches, borrowing from the fields of sociology or anthropology, to allow women to contribute and reflect in the way they feel comfortable.Consideration must be given of the cultural context and gendered structures or traditions that may limit women from volunteering, and ultimately, we must ask whether the key issues that we are studying in deindustrialisation and labour history are significant to women in their daily life and activities.If they are not, we must provide the space for women to share their narrative.

Conclusion
This article presents points for reflection when conducting oral histories of marginalised groups within deindustrialisation studies and labour history.There is no simple answer as to why reticence and the problems it engendered was such a factor within this project, and there is no single solution to the issues faced.In my opinion, it was the culmination of a complex cultural context, gendered issues, and the topic of the research.Discussing these issues within the context of deindustrialisation studies is significant to the development of the field, as without its consideration we risk losing important voices on the long-term implications of industrial decline.The focus of deindustrialisation studies upon working-class, marginalised, and disempowered groups means our methodological approach must be a continual topic of discussion.
The reticence of Belfast's PUL community to researchers is not a new phenomenon.It is a form of self-protection from judgement, particularly for a community that has been subject to misrepresentation in the past.As mentioned before, a collaborative community-based project may be most effective in this circumstance; one that is led by an insider to the community and supported by local heritage groups.This would remove any concerns over the exploitation and commodification of the community's narratives.Gendered issues within oral histories of deindustrialisation also require more consideration.This process may require flexible and blended methodologies that borrow from other social sciences.A key challenge facing deindustrialisation studies is how to locate women, and how to convey deindustrialisation to them in a way that makes women feel comfortable to contribute, particularly in studies of the wider community implications.
In some locations and subject areas, consideration must be given to issues of refusal and silence.Regardless of the safeguarding options in place in the field, such as: anonymity or pseudonyms, individuals may still refuse to participate.It must be remembered that researchers are not entitled to an individual's testimony, and while silence is, undoubtedly, disappointing as a researcher, it must be respected as the individual's decision.However, what impact will this have on the fields of labour history and deindustrialisation studies?As the field expands to understanding the wider social and cultural experiences of deindustrialisation, thought must be given to the best practice of collecting these narratives.We must find ways to move past the loudest voices to incorporate the wider communities and consideration must be given to how we incorporate these voices from the peripheries of such events, those who may feel they were not directly impacted, or those potentially silenced by others within, or outside, the community.