In my exploration of cycling experiences, I delve into the world of autoethnography as a powerful tool for understanding emotions and personal experiences. By engaging in self-reflection and examining our own narratives, we can gain deeper insight into the lived realities of cycling. In this post, I emphasize the role of photos as unique visual materials that capture specific moments in time and space. Through the lenses of researchers and everyday cyclists, these images encapsulate the diverse environments, interactions, and emotions that unfold while traversing the city on two wheels. Together, autoethnographic narratives and photo-essays can create rich and thick descriptions of cycling experiences, deepening our understanding of cycling practices in different contexts.
Autoethnography as a Form of Embodied Understanding of Emotions and Experiences
Autoethnography is a qualitative interpretive ethnographic approach to research that seeks to describe personal experience to understand cultural experience. Autoethnography emphasizes the researcher’s personal experiences and reflections within a cultural context. According to Adams et al. (2015: 2):
Autoethnography is a qualitative research method that: 1) uses a researcherʼs personal experience to describe and critique cultural beliefs, practices, and experiences; 2) acknowledges and values the researcherʼs relationships with others; 3) uses deep and careful self-reflection—typically referred to as “reflexivity”—to name and interrogate the intersections between self and society, the particular and the general, the personal and the political; 4) shows people in the process of figuring out what to do, how to live, and the meaning of their struggles; 5) balances intellectual and methodological rigor, emotion, and creativity; and 6) strives for social justice and to make life better. (p. 2)
Most autoethnographers take a multipronged, layered, hybrid approach—drawing on various methodological tools common in qualitative inquiry—as they research social phenomena and craft compelling narratives about human social or cultural phenomena (Poulos, 2021: 3). From this perspective, personal stories are the main core and storytelling is the best way to understand the subjective experiences of the researcher that provide a useful way of knowing about the collective cultural experiences.
| Autoethnography is | Autoethnography is not |
| Qualitative inquiry | Quantitative research |
| Phenomenological | Positivist or post positivist |
| Focused on local knowledge | Focused on generalized knowledge |
| Evocative writing | Reporting |
| Interpretive or critical | Statistical |
| Suggestive | Predictive |
| Self-reflexive and subjective | Outer-directed or objective |
| Grounded in participation and observation | Grounded in quantifiable data |
| Driven by memory, story, experience | Driven by statistical generalizations or categories |
| Narrative, poetic, evocative writing | Research reporting |
| Seeking possibilities | Seeking probabilities |
| Written in first-person voice (generally | Written in third-person voice |
Photos as Unique Visual Material Representing Lived Time and Lived Space
Photos serve as powerful vehicles for understanding lived experiences, capturing moments in time and space as perceived by individuals. This unique ability to freeze and preserve specific instances allows viewers to gain insight into personal emotions, thoughts, and contexts. In research settings, photographs can act as evocative stimuli, triggering emotions, memories, and self-reflection while encouraging participants to share their experiences and interpretations.
Reflexive photography in autoethnography further enhances the depth and richness of research by combining the researcher’s active engagement in capturing images with thoughtful integration of written narratives. This approach not only deepens the understanding of lived experiences but also highlights the researcher’s role in co-constructing knowledge and meaning.
Autoethnographic Photo-Essay for Understanding Cycling Lived Experiences
The anthropological perspective and the application of ethnographic methodology offer valuable insights into the cultural, social, political, and emotional dimensions of cycling in various urban contexts. Autoethnography can provide a thick description of the researcher’s lived experience and connect it with different dimensions of cycling practices. Through autoethnographic photo-essays, researchers can delve deeper into understanding cycling lived experiences. The photographs serve as visual evidence of personal encounters, providing additional layers of meaning and context, ultimately enhancing the richness and depth of the narratives.
They capture and preserve specific moments in time and space, inviting viewers to immerse themselves in the experiences and emotions of the cyclists. Autoethnographic photo-essays can document the diverse aspects of cyclists’ experiences, such as infrastructure challenges, interactions with other road users, and the emotions tied to cycling in various settings. They provide a comprehensive understanding of cyclists’ needs, aspirations, and everyday realities, which can inform urban planning, policymaking, and public discourse around cycling.
Some Examples from Various Contexts
I left my job when my first son was six months old and returned to work a week after my maternity leave ended. However, I soon resigned again because I couldn’t bear being away from my child. Since I had given up my beloved profession, I decided to pursue my other dream: having more children. My family grew quickly with the addition of two more children in a short time!
During those years, I made efforts to avoid depression that some women in my society experienced. I learned from my kids, picked up music, and engaged in various games with them. Eventually, we turned to sports. My husband was proficient in swimming and cycling, so the boys learned those skills from him.
For my daughter, Mahgol, I realized the importance of being a good role model for her, considering the social constraints on women and girls in my society. I decided to take up cycling at the age of thirty-eight, with my husband as my teacher. I then hired a professional cycling coach to train my family and teach us how to navigate the city on our bikes.
Given the heavy traffic in Tehran and the growing popularity of female cyclists and urban cycling, I felt compelled to join a cycling team. By doing so, I aimed to overcome the mental, individual, and social barriers that my daughter, other girls, and women in our society faced. Cycling became a powerful tool and action to challenge social hegemony.
Through cycling education, both my daughter and I have tackled numerous challenges. My daughter began cycling at four years old and is now six. One particular challenge last school year was transporting her to her elementary school on her bike daily. The absence of a bike parking facility at the school meant I had to bring the bike home and return with it when school finished. One day, I couldn’t take her bike to school. Upon seeing me, Mahgol was upset, questioning why I hadn’t brought her bike so she could ride it home. I’m thrilled that my efforts have instilled a positive cycling habit in my daughter…
I am a Bicycle Mayor.
I am a woman Bicycle Mayor.
I am a pregnant woman Bicycle Mayor.
I am a pregnant woman Bicycle Mayor, without a bike (!?)
My experience of moving through the city changed completely when I discovered I was pregnant a few months ago. My doctor recommended that I stop cycling for transportation due to the poor state of infrastructure, high risk of falling, low levels of road safety, and the bad behavior of car drivers. As a confident cyclist for many years, I initially thought I could “ignore” this advice until my bump grew bigger. However, one evening, I rode into a pothole on a poorly lit street, and it became clear that despite my confidence in cycling through traffic, the infrastructure does not ensure OUR safety in this condition.
Before the end of the first trimester of my pregnancy, I lost the independence and freedom my red Brompton bicycle offered me. I had to replace my commute with unreliable and inefficient bus rides in Nicosia, walking, and being driven by my partner, family members, friends, and colleagues.
Walking is my favourite alternative to cycling and theoretically a good way to stay active during pregnancy, but in Cyprus, spring brings frequent dust episodes from the arid regions and deserts of North Africa and the Middle East, prompting warnings for vulnerable groups to stay indoors due to increased air pollution. Additionally, the island suffered from extreme heat waves from the end of May, and we recorded the highest-ever June temperature. Concerned people in my life who initially said “You shouldn’t be cycling in your condition!” now added walking as a dangerous way to move around.
I wonder if pregnant women in other countries receive similar advice from their doctors and if they are considered irresponsible for choosing not to drive a car.
I wonder if I am the only one who finds it very problematic that switching to driving a car “seems” to be a safer and more responsible way for a future mother to move.
I wonder if we can expand the conversation on child-friendly and gender-inclusive urbanism and transport planning to include this transitional period of pregnancy in women’s lives. Despite the temporary nature of pregnancy, how are cities designed to support the changing circumstances and lifestyle needs of this group of commuters? How can we support women going through this unique and wonderful period of their lives to move safely and independently?
I wonder if we can accelerate the measures national and local governments take to adapt to the impacts of climate change to protect vulnerable groups who use active modes of transport.
I urge city planners and policymakers to prioritize safe, inclusive, and sustainable transportation options. Pregnant women shouldn’t have to sacrifice their mobility or health to navigate the city safely. Let’s create urban environments where all individuals, regardless of their life stage, can move freely, reclaiming the joy and independence of active transportation.
By the third month of fieldwork, I too needed a regular fix of group riding. These were slow rolls of about 12-15 miles. I loved the sleepy camaraderie as we waited under a dark underpass before the ride started. I loved the feeling of rolling through the city before sunrise, and how the silent pedaling in the first hour gives way to lively chatter animated by a sense of accomplishment at the end. I even learned to appreciate the feeling of waking up before my alarm clock rang because of nervousness and excitement. I loved reading the WhatsApp messages of encouragement at 5:30am while sipping coffee— “Who’s up?” “Good morning” “Where do we meet?” “I’m here.” Little nods of encouragement, and recognition, that pushed us out the door on the saddle. I loved the new bicycle routines too. I figured out how to slip out of my apartment without waking my family and unlocking the bike quietly without waking the building’s security guard. At night I found myself lying in bed, scrolling through the WhatsApp group discussion planning the next ride, unable to fight the urge to type “I’m in” despite the negative effects so little sleep would have on the rest of my day.
I have made some of my friends while waiting at red lights or on bike paths, such as on Keshavarz Boulevard. We have our bikes to thank for these simple connections. Together, we’ve formed an advocacy group consisting of diverse ages, genders, and social classes. Interestingly, when we’re on our bikes riding as a group, class distinctions seem to disappear. Being on a bicycle fosters openness to others and the environment, encouraging social interactions in a beautifully uncomplicated way.
When cycling, we directly expose ourselves to others—both human and non-human—in contrast to the isolating experience of driving expensive cars. Our bicycles strip away the masks of social class, allowing us to connect genuinely with those we encounter. Strangers behind the wheel or walking on the street seldom acknowledge one another, but cyclists often exchange greetings while waiting at stoplights or passing on a bike route. This is a testament to the significance of “the other” in our lifeworld, a connection that cycling so naturally promotes.
References
- Adams, T. E., Jones, S. H., & Ellis, C. (2015). Autoethnography: Understanding qualitative research. Oxford University Press.
- Poulos, C. N. (2021). Essentials of autoethnography. In American Psychological Association eBooks.
To read more about autoethnography in cycling research, take a look at:
