When I first realized that we would have to perform ethnographic research in various writing classrooms, I was a little nervous. I have only recently grasped the concept of ethnography and have never conducted research where I would actually have to play an observer role. Guiding my nervousness about ethnographic research was my own discomfort with being the subject of study. I don’t like being watched, studied or explored. It brings to mind the old bug-on-a-pin cliché. This week’s readings, especially the Purcell-Gates article, offer a practical and respectful approach to ethnographic research and helped dispel some of this nervousness.
Purcell-Gates defines ethnographic research as the study of culture in such a way that it will allow the researcher to understand how literacy develops in a natural setting (92). The results of this research are interpreted through a cultural lens, giving the researcher a chance to explore events and explain situations in a particular context. The researcher shouldn’t begin with a hypothesis or preconceived notions of what they will find. Instead- and here is the respectful part- a good researcher will learn as much as they can about the population being studied before beginning (95). They must choose between approaches and conduct the research with their biases identified or in some way set aside. What made me rethink the ‘bug-on-a-pin’ analogy was this idea that researchers must decide where they want to be on the participant / observer continuum (101). They may decide to totally involve themselves in the community for a critical approach, or operate in a more detached way if they are using an ecological approach. When researchers consciously decide to explore the best approach, I think it makes them more aware of their biases and foci. Or at least think about them if only for a moment or two.
What’s funny is that I was watching a TV show on Friday that in some ways demonstrated the continuum. (If you watch the Sarah Conner Chronicles, beware, spoiler ahead.) The main characters entered a small community at a funeral because they believed the participants would lead them to the location of the machines. If I had to identify their approach, I’d say that they selected the phenomenological one in that they believed that interacting socially with this community would lead them to a socially constructed and evolving knowledge. The researchers, in this case the humans, interviewed the participants of that small community and immersed themselves in their particular funeral ritual. From the interviews the researchers learned that the constructed knowledge was the funeral itself; the evolving or evolved knowledge was that not everyone who was supposed to be dead actually was.
On the other hand, Catherine Weaver, the machine and villain in Sarah— is more of a detached observer. Catherine’s small, human daughter is very afraid of her mother which threatens the machine’s legitimacy. Catherine continually watches and studies the other characters in an attempt understand social mores and acceptable behavior in the face of tragedies such as loss/death. The knowledge she gains helps her participate in the society but she is still forced to remain a bit on the outside because of her detached nature. Catherine’s behavior in the same episode as the funeral reminded me of the ecological approach, and a more detached location point on the continuum. If you have a chance, watch it. It’s freaky.
For me, it is the detached observer that is a little worrisome because of the voyeur aspect. I would be concerned about what they were thinking or if they had an agenda or maybe if they were a machine trying to take control of the world.
Faye, for a start, great response, and I like that show, but unfortunately it conflicts with a couple other shows that my wife likes for DVR space, and I don’t compete for space on the DVR. If I don’t want to watch something, I just sit out here in the yard in my little “far seeing place, and either read a novel, or something for class, or get on the net and look at things that interest me.
It’s too bad though, because one of the things that intrigues me as both a philosophical question and one of practical application in the world is the line between us and our creations. Both in a technical sense, i.e. what effect do the things we make have upon the world, artificial intelligence, and what constitutes sentience in a machine person, and how it is different from that of a human person, and so on like the guys working in cognitive science ask, or some of the better speculative fiction authors and also, in a metaphisical sense, like at what point does power turn one into a god, in an ethnographic, small g god sort of way?
Well, I don’t think that anyone has created an actually sentient machine person yet, and I talk to the cheap imitations of people that currently form so much of our telephon interactions as little as I possiblly can, but the idea is interesting.
Also, ethnography is an interesting sort of research to do, and as a writer of novels, you must be a people watcher of some sort, and perhaps even a bit of a voyeur–I don’t mean looking in windows, or watching live-cam porn, but in the sense of observing the ways that people interact, noticing them, and filing them away to use later. I will read at least one of your books, soon, now that I have found out what they are because I enjoy books like those in general, and because it a window into who you are in some way, and I know you at least a little, and I am voyeuristic like that.
By the way, I would like the name of your agent, I am half/seriously looking for one, and trying to get motivated to finish some of my longer projects in my copius free time, since I have to graduate soon, and the market for rhetoricians isn’t so hot right now, and a boy has got to make a living, particularly if he has kids.