Reflection+on+THE+MISSING+GENRE

(Lori 3/7/10) As Mishler hints, the story is not simply contained in the words or even the interchange between interviewee and interviewer. How does one "get inside" the work of a research interview to describe the inter-weaving of assumptions about //seeing// and //knowing// and //being// with the many ways of self-expression? Perhaps the missing genre it is similar to a 3-D movie or a "Magic Eye" image: the presentation needs to be rich enough to provide contextual cues that draw others into the life of the experience while also equipping them with a filter mechanism (like funky 3-D glasses or a relaxed gaze) that suspends their typical way of taking in information to allow greater depth in their perception.

For fun check out the Magic Eye image of the week to see what these quotes called to mind for me.

(Liz 3/19/10) I just got my books a few days ago so I haven't delved into them quite yet, so I am grateful to get to reflect about the quote from //The Vulnerable Observer.

As a researcher, I find it both refreshing and frightening that interactions in the field can never be replicated or reproduced. The "burden of ownership", according to Geertz is really entirely on the ethnographer/anthropologist because the capturing of field notes, interactions must be reported so clearly that the reader will feel as though they are close to the subject, that they, too, know and are familiar with the subject though they have not met and may never meet. So, it is the recording that is the most important; by that I mean the reflection, reasoning and relaying of information--not just the actual record of words. We, as interviewers, have done this well when we have recreated the moments and the world of our sources. This is what Behar says is missing--language to describe the practice of making meaning of our field notes, interpreting them, analyzing them, and reporting them justly when we do not live in our subject's mind or mind's eye. We only live in our own--no matter how sympathetic we may feel; the only thing we have is our own creation, yet, we try to write as if we know how another person has created his or her own universe. I think what Behar is describing, or attempting to, is the art of listening--listening not for yourself, but for exactly what the source is trying to convey. And that practice is mastered by years of experience--of suspending our own paradigms to be fully present to someone else's speaking. What language do we have for listening? Where is there a course called Listening as a Research Tool? It certainly is a missing. //