A Lifelong Journey: Positionality in Self-Knowledge,Relationships,and Evaluation

Introduction

The field of evaluation has shown itself to be a reflective one as we continue to grapple with the ethics of our work and appropriate practices. We have seen statements of competence and standards (American Evaluation Association, 2011; Yarbrough et al., 2010), and the emergence of complex theories that aim to guide evaluators navigating through uncertainty (Dean-Coffey et al., 2014; Picciotto, 2023). The field lacks consensus in these areas which may, in part, arise from the individuality that comes with evaluation practice. This tension underscores the importance of practitioners articulating their own histories and realities by engaging in reflexive practice (Archibald et al., 2018). This note attempts to add a relatable and actionable commentary to the decades-old discussion about how evaluation interacts with identity, role, culture, equity, and ethics (e.g., Donaldson et al., 2009; Hood et al., 2005; House, 2015; Ryan & Schwandt, 2002; Schwandt & Gates, 2021).

Evaluators, along with academic researchers, may doubt the extent to which scholarly inquiry and “truth” can or should vary depending on the individual(s) involved in the inquiry (e.g., Savolainen et al., 2023). That this argument persists reinforces the idea that our unique life trajectories shape the understanding we have, the ways we interact with others, the choices we make, the conclusions we draw, and the knowledge we consider credible (e.g., Bochner & Ellis, 2002; Erez & Earley, 1993; Folkes, 2023; Secules et al., 2021). The importance of positionality practice is abundantly clear in Donna Haraway's description of situated knowledge, which is “not about transcendence and splitting of subject and object. It allows us to become answerable for what we learn how to see” (1988, p. 583). The things we learn (and choose) to see have a direct impact on all aspects of evaluation practice, including:

the theories we use to ground our work,

Positionality practices involve using reflexive activities that help us both identify and communicate the lenses through which we view the world and, by extension, the way we practice evaluation.

Sharing positionality involves sharing information about ourselves to contextualize our viewpoints and the decisions we make. The expectation with practicing positionality is that audiences will have a deeper understanding of the worldview and values that underpin our practice before they choose to engage with our work, for example, as a partner or client. This transparency is particularly important in work focusing on social justice because these projects are firmly planted in opposition to some unnamed worldview (e.g., colonial white supremacism) that has been silently dominating some population (Freire, 2018). Positionality practice does not reduce the power held by evaluators, but it does help us probe our work by “[looking] at the filters people invoke, why they invoke them, and what those filters include and exclude” (Weick, 1995, p. 51). Engaging in this reflexivity helps us identify the political tones of our ingrained habits and offers us an opportunity to choose equity over the status quo, which is discussed later in this note.

Most records of our works are written, which implies a certain permanence. Yet, to experience shifts in one's identity and understanding is a natural part of life. We live multifaceted lives and take on different roles, positions of power, and even, to an extent, personalities depending on the context we find ourselves in (Weick, 1995). Accepting that one's positionality is always in flux, and acknowledging the depth of reflection required to unpack the complexities surrounding our work and personhoods (Archibald et al., 2018), I believe that sustained reflexive practices should be adopted by evaluators because ours is a field that holds potential to enact widespread impacts on program participants, peers, and broader society.

The remainder of this note offers an in-depth example of what it can look like to engage in deep reflection about one's own positionality and how even one aspect of personhood can raise big questions about the work we do. First, I share a brief narrative of my experience learning about my own autistic profile at age 26. The sections that follow unpack the experience in the contexts of self-knowledge, relationships, and evaluation practice. As mentioned in the abstract of this note, I am a white, highly educated millennial cis-woman. I share each of these traits because they are fundamental in shaping my personhood and help contextualize this writing for readers. However, there is not enough space in this note to properly discuss the impacts of each. I include this information anyway to emphasize that this publication communicates my situated understanding (not a universal truth) about positionality.

Case Study: Meeting My Autistic Self

My mind has always worked differently, and people have always been able to tell. I know I am different, they know I am different, yet there was never anything we could point to that actually indicated any difference. So, for most of my life, I was “normal,” but in a weird way. That all changed when I was diagnosed as autistic in my late 20s. I was now certifiably different and disabled.

I occupied a strange place shortly after diagnosis—everything had changed, but also, nothing had changed. I would wake up in the morning feeling like my regular self until I remembered that I am autistic now. I was autistic before too; I just didn’t know it. But having the words and the piece of paper made it official, medical, Google-able. I was relieved, grieving, excited, and confused.

It was very hard to reconcile the different understandings I had about myself—before diagnosis, I was driven, smart, a multitasker, eccentric. Now that I know I am autistic, I am also a lot of other things pathologized by the DSM-5: oblivious, hyper-fixated, distracted, overly sensitive (Black & Grant, 2014). I spent years pondering how much of it was true, how much of it was bad, and how I wanted to describe myself. It took a lot of time and internal reflection to understand how ableism was programmed into me and reinforced as I learned about my not-so-new profile.

I began to wonder how my autistic view impacts my work and whether I should lean into that identity. Some aspects I have always brought with me—a keen eye for analysis and organization, an ever-present need for clear communication. But does that mean I should share my autistic identity? Would sharing my identity mean I was “advertising” or “branding” myself as autistic to gain business? Is that fair to do as someone who has only been autistic for a couple of years? But in reality, I have been autistic my whole life … if I keep it a secret, am I doing myself and others a disservice? Do I have any right to work with dis/abled communities? What internalized ableism do I still carry? These questions have been swirling in my mind for years, and I am not sure I will ever land on solid answers.

Throughout my reflection, I documented my emergent thoughts on the space I occupy within society and ponderings about how, when, or if I should disclose my autistic self to others. The remainder of this note focuses on the actions I took to unpack my positionality in my self-knowledge, relationships, and evaluation practice. I came across these techniques as I learned about my autistic self; however, you may notice elements of my other identities (e.g., settler). These blurred lines arise from the natural entanglement of the identities we hold within our whole selves and they are ok (see discussion on ambiguity below).

Positionality in Self-Knowledge

I am constantly practicing positionality and trying to get to know myself more thoroughly. It seems to be in my nature to look back on my recent and distant pasts, looking for ways to understand my life a little bit better. I do not usually dedicate time to reflexivity, it tends to happen in the softer moments of my day—during a quiet breakfast, a leisurely walk outside, or while I cuddle my pets. I usually recall events that struck me as interesting and wonder what made it so. These events are sometimes intense moments of joy, upset, success, failure, awkward encounters, missed opportunities, and serendipitous happenings. Sometimes it feels like I am trying to crack a code, to understand why something unfolded the way it did. Other times my reflection feels more like extended moments of appreciation.

My reflexivity is persistent, but I seldom land on concrete answers. Such is life—we are allowed to not know. We are also allowed to change our minds in light of new information, new life experiences, or for any other reason. This lesson was unsettling to me when I first encountered it, but I knew in my heart of hearts that it was true. I began to build a tolerance for uncertainty and ambiguity, slowly learning to trust my instincts and tacit understanding when clear-cut answers were not within reach. I accepted the fact that I need not make an exclusive, lifelong commitment to any concept, approach, or methodology to make a scholarly contribution. This realization was liberating, relieving pressure to always be “right.” I now anticipate improvisation in my practice, and I use professional development training to equip myself with various theories and techniques that I can pick up and put down as I see fit.

I believe that adopting one permanent positionality is uncritical. Even if a lot of thoughtful reflection went into the articulation of that positionality, life is constantly evolving, and we evolve with it. To abstain from regular reflexivity is to actively disengage from learning. To assume your positionality remains unchanged is to ignore the dynamism of being human.

How might your positionality practice evolve? Some folx may be approaching positionality practice for the very first time, while others may be looking for ways to deepen their reflexivity. A number of models exist to get you started, including:

Power Flower (Arnold et al., 1991)

For me, the greatest learning about myself emerges after I connect with people who are different from me. With a basic understanding of who I am, I can begin to see where difference lies as I engage with others through their writing (fiction and nonfiction), social media, film and television, comedy, and other elements of culture. I approach my relationships with genuine curiosity and deep respect for the sacredness of other people.

Over time, relationships with peers and friends (whom I treasure) have afforded opportunities for us to have frank conversations about how we experience life differently. This is how I continue to re-sensitize myself to what “normal” looks like for different people, and what it looks like for me in particular. I come to know myself by knowing others. What follows is usually a discussion that asks questions like:

Why are we experiencing this difference?

These are the discussions where political undertones are identified. As we emerge from these conversations with new insight about other people's experiences, we can choose to uphold the status quo or disrupt it. Disrupting the status quo does not usually happen overnight but involves slow and consistent commitment to re-learning and adopting new practices that affirm the rights, dignity, and well-being of other people. These are the moments where the “rubber hits the road,” and we reveal to ourselves our true level of interest, care, and commitment to equity.

For those who are brand new to these ideas, I recommend reviewing the reference list of this article. For those who are building connections with other people, I recommend investing in professional development opportunities that focus on equity and reflexivity and are led by folx who are different from you. The evaluation community is teeming with talented and insightful facilitators who want to support you on this journey.

Positionality in Relationships

Anytime we work with new folx, there is a period of getting to know one another. What do we choose to share? Beyond the social aspect of becoming familiar with each other, I tend to share key contextualizing information that carries an important message about the spirit with which I work. There is no formula we can follow to build these relationships, and what we choose to share may vary as the personnel, project, and circumstances change (Sibbald et al., 2025).

Sharing pieces of my positionality is certainly not a science—sometimes it feels more like relationship management. By and large, my choices to disclose information about myself are currently guided by my desire for a smooth, effective, and pleasant partnership. Some of the things I consider when deciding what to share about myself include:

Whether I already know this person (e.g., Can I trust them with sensitive information about myself?)

Depending on my partner, sometimes we have a reciprocal conversation where all of these points are discussed early in our relationship. Other times, these conversations evolve over the course of a few weeks as our connection strengthens. Reciprocity and trust are quite important to me in this context; past encounters have taught me that oversharing too early and without reciprocity tips the power dynamics, leaving me feeling vulnerable and in the dark.

As I mentioned, it is normal for positionalities to change as time passes. In my ideal partnership, these changes are shared in real time (either explicitly or passively). I view relationships as ongoing commitments and am willing to invest effort in continuing to know my partners and bring myself into the technical work I do. To stop communicating your position with your partner(s) introduces an opportunity for a rift, which can grow into relational turmoil later on. Imagine what it is like to be in partnership with someone who does not share your ideals … perhaps you have already experienced this kind of mismatch. Based on my experiences, knowing yourself, exploring your positionality, and sharing bits with others is one of the most important parts of authentic evaluation practice.

Positionality in Evaluation

My ongoing deliberations about my positionality invariably lead to questions about my career in evaluation. I find myself wondering how I can possibly be confident in supporting organizations when I know how transient and situational my knowledge really is. In practice, I am usually my own worst critic. However, answering my own hard questions about my assumptions, my beliefs about knowledge, and the rationale behind my actions prepares me well to explain my thinking to partners. I have learned to probe the fears and anxieties about equity that sometimes arise in projects, and I now recognize these feelings as prompts to invite another perspective into the conversation.

Importantly, I also use teachings from other members of the evaluation community to advance my understanding of the world and the way I exist in it. In particular, I look to Indigenous leaders who share teachings around responsive and relational ways of working (e.g., Nicholson et al., 2025; Rowe, 2023), and how decolonizing practices can expose assumptions embedded in taken-for-granted practices (Bremner & Bowman, 2025). These approaches recognize the strength in a humble approach to knowledge and highlight the opportunity such flexibility affords when co-creating solutions with others. Guided by these lessons, I have decided that as long as I continue to embrace decolonized ways of working, I can find the courage and grace to navigate new situations respectfully and with honor. Decolonized practice is not the focus of this note; however, plenty of resources exist if you wish to supplement your positionality journey with these teachings learn more (Bowman, 2025; Lee et al., 2021; Wilson, 2008).

Concluding Thoughts

Positionality and associated practices are challenging topics to grapple with, and perhaps the point is to grapple. Just like real life, positionality does not offer much comfort by way of certainty, permanence, or consensus, even within one person's reflexive practice. Given that our unique positionalities necessarily tint our evaluation work, the need to engage in reflexive practice becomes apparent.

Numerous models and approaches to articulating positionality exist, and they each hold some degree of value. I have shared a significant event in my life, my autistic diagnosis, and explained some of the internal and external tensions I felt as I came to understand how autism shapes my positionality. In addition to peer-reviewed positionality practices, I shared my personal habits that emerged naturally as coping mechanisms when I was learning to accept unsettling knowledge about myself while continuing to work in evaluation. My hope in sharing this reflection is to encourage other evaluators to consider beginning or deepening a positionality practice that challenges you to see your work in new ways.