On Ethnography For The Dance Of It
I wrote the following first of two letters to a new/old anthropological friend. Thanks to John for letting me share them (I asked his permission, and edited them a bit) and for asking the questions in the first place.
His question:
“I know you have plenty of experience now, but did you ever feel anxiety while crafting a project? It’s not even anxiety really, just trying to figure out how to plan for the unknown, which is usually the best part.”
My answer:
“I think if I DIDN’T feel it, I would be worried… Because I think it is that anxiety that pushes you to make sure you are thinking through every angle… Maybe I will want to capture THIS kind of data (silly word for the kind of knowledge we’re after, but really the only one we’ve got) or THAT kind of data or maybe I should be collecting lists of THIS artifact or THAT cultural element… When really what you want is to leave yourself open to any kind of ah-ha moment that might come along in some unknown form. It is so true that you really don’t know what you have in the beginning, so you have to capture everything that seems mundane or meaningless along with what you initially find interesting. I love listening to the first interview of a project again after finishing the last because I hear things I don’t even remember having happened.
It’s funny, and I hadn’t thought about this until just now, but [in my lastest project with Midwest Home Beer and Wine Making Supplies] beer brewers talked about their hobby as a kind of creative expression. Experimentation and science, but artistry as well. I think that’s what ethnography is about too…
It’s about finding new meanings and angles and insights and coming up with your own creative process to get there… So, to get back to your original question, about anxiety, isn’t that what fuels the creative process? You can examine your anxiety and create new questions for yourself… It’s a tension and a desire to have your framework set up the best you can so that when you are in the field…
You can dance. With every thing and every thought and every one you encounter.
You can dance. With every thing and every thought and every one you encounter.
I’ve been wine tasting [in Australia] all day, so that might have been rambly.
But I truly think that’s why I love ethnography. For the dance of it.
But I truly think that’s why I love ethnography. For the dance of it.
Why do YOU love it?
Comment from Dr D
Time May 23, 2011 at 11:06 pm
Yes, Em, it’s the dance… and that’s why it’s not just a job. You do it because you love it!