In response to Chapter 3 of Like It Was, by Cynthia Stokes Brown (1988):

Well, I'm somewhat glad to have been handed a clearer idea of what this project will entail, if only in part. On the whole, it reminds me of Mock Trial. I was a prosecuting attorney on the team one year, and some of the guiding principles for that setting seem to apply to gathering an oral history as well.

Though Brown says in this chapter that you ought to hold some interest in or emotional connection to your topic of choice, I would posit that it's much more important to find someone willing and able to tell his/her story. Certain subjects interest me more than others, but this is a graded assignment, and we're on a schedule; we don't have time to go tracking down twenty billion different people asking if they'd mind being interviewed. As Captain Renault said in "Casablanca," "Well, personally, Major, I will take what comes."

There were a couple of suggestions for focusing the project's writing, though I expect most end results turn out to be a combination of everything in varying proportions. A character sketch, a feature story, a personality story...I like a little of everything, and I expect most readers want the plot with the character as well. Not too fast, but definitely not too slow (on pain of death).

The questioning methods are what really reminded me of Mock Trial. Brown says not to use leading questions, and it's exactly the same in (mock) court. With your witness, in direct examination, you are forbidden to use leading questions. All you can do is form a general frame, give a starting point, from which the witness must construct his/her own story. It's the same thing here. Let the narrator say what he/she wants; don't break the cardinal therapy rule and project your opinions on him/her through your mode of questioning. You provide the frame, then let the narrator paint his/her own storyboard from top to bottom.

The checklist sounds good. I've said it once (or more), and I'll say it again: I'm a sequential nut. I love lists, I love structure, I love order, and I love knowing exactly where I stand and how much more I have to go. A checklist of areas to cover will put my mind greatly at ease. (As for those confluent folk who feel they do better without, best of luck to you.)

The research element of conducting an interview also tied back to Mock Trial. When you step inside a (fake) courtroom, you need to know everything. Everything every one of your witnesses know, everything every one of your opponent's witnesses knows. You can't be lost. It will waste time and trip you up at some point. Besides which, I just like the idea of being prepared. It's much easier to engage in a story when you know the background, the context, the surrounding circumstances. (Not to mention, you'll have to do this research at some point in the project anyway, so you might as well get it done with up front.)

One thing grabbed my attention in a not-so-great way: Brown mentioned making sure you portrayed an attentive listener by giving verbal affirmations of your attention every here and there. She may have touched on this later (very, very briefly), but if there's any recording/filming going on and you hope to use the audio later, you better keep your mouth shut. If we have an awesome quote we just have to use in a video, but it's marred by an "uh-huh," we will feel like total and complete idiots. And there goes a beautiful moment, never to be heard again.

At this point, finding someone to interview and getting the sessions set up is sounding like the hardest part...but that could just be because my schedule's tight right now. Still, always room for one more (idiot) research project, right?


PS:
Since I still haven't figured out how to reply directly to a comment posted to a blog on Weebly, I'll just put it here for future (public) reference: when I say "idiot," which is almost always in conjunction with schoolwork, I do not intend it as a slight toward anyone. It's basically my personal synonym for "evil" (in a semi-silly, time consuming sense), one that tends to appear as the semester progresses and I get swamped with work. No offense intended toward anyone, living, dead, or zombified.

(First, why is my web browser showing this page as "What Is Oral History"? Who capitalizes "is"? This bugs me.)

Attack of the Quotes:
"To summarize: oral history might be understood as a self-conscious, disciplined conversation between two people about some aspect of the past considered by them to be of historical significance and intentionally recorded for the record. " - "What is Oral History?"
"And many think--erroneously, to be sure--that they have little to say that would be of historical value. By recording the firsthand accounts of an enormous variety of narrators, oral history has, over the past half-century, helped democratize the historical record." - "What is Oral History?"

Response:
To ensure I'm understanding this correctly, I believe this article describes oral history as a collaboration, in interview form, between two people to tell a story that they think is important and want to save for posterity. It basically sounds like a semi-structured conversation.

Well, this brings up a few questions for me (regarding our next idiot project), as well as a few chuckles and snorts. I'm wondering if, as opposed to the documentary-like programs on the history channel where only clips of interviewees are shown, our oral history project will involve presenting ourselves along with our project narrators in whatever medium we use.

Now, for the chuckles and snorts, I refer back to my Attack of the Quotes. The first X-wing fighter (Star Wars!) says the narrator and interviewer consider the subject matter "to be of historical significance." The B-wing coming up on its flank then (takes an overbearing, condescending tone and) says that those thinking they have nothing worth saying are wrong; they should talk so geeks in the future will have a useless job that will drain taxpayers' dollars and provide information to fill more, bigger (still useless) textbooks. Okay, so it doesn't say exactly that, but it bugged me. After reading way too many history texts and a few (too many) biographies and autobiographies, I, as a reader, do not want to read/see boring stories. And yes, that's what everyday life comes off as most of the time, especially real real life, not the fictionalized renderings. If I think I have "little to say that would be of historical value," I darn well reserve the right to plead the 5th and keep my mouth shut. And I'll probably maintain, til death do us part, that I'm doing the world a favor.

Final note to self: no matter what this next idiot project is about, find an interesting story.

"Narrative Inquiry." Clandinin, D. Jean, & Connelly, F. Michael. 2000.

Attack of the Quotes:
"By inward, we mean toward the internal conditions, such as feelings, hopes, aesthetic reactions, and moral dispositions. By outward, we mean toward the existential conditions, that is, the environment. Bybackward and forward, we refer to temporality-past, present, and future. We wrote that to experience an experieflce--that is, to do research into an experience-is to experience it simultaneously in these four ways and to ask questions pointing each way. Thus, when one is positioned on this two-dimensional space in any particular inquiry, one asks questions, collects field notes, derives interpretations, and writes a research text that addresses both personal and social issues by looking inward and outward, and addresses temporal issues by looking not only to the event but to its past and to its future" (p. 50).

"What is unsaid, a third use of the terms (and not possible to say with the stories so far presented), is the ambiguity, complexity, difficulty, and uncertainties associated with the doing ofthe inquiry. These doings, the "stuff" of narrative inquiry, can only be sensed and understood from a reading of the full-blown inquiry. Though we do not explore this complexity here, we will come back to it in these and other stories" (p. 55).

"What starts to become apparent as we work within our three-dimensional space is that as narrative inquirers we are not alone in this space. This space enfolds us and those with whom we work. Narrative inquiry is a relational inquiry as we work in the field, move from field to field text, and from field text to research text" (p. 60).

Response:
For simply describing what narrative inquiry does (without all the pish posh of theory and concepts in the middle), these guys sure did a whole lot of yacking and took their good old time getting it done. For that alone, I condemn this piece to the ceremonial bonfire at semester’s end. (Don’t claim to have cut out all the useless bits and then replace them with different useless bits. If you say you’re going to keep it short, sweet, and simple, follow through or feel readers’ collective wrath.)

(By the by, I felt like strangling the teacher, Karen Whelan, whining about failing a kid. Obviously, there is a certain degree of subjectivity in some parts of grading, but come on. How can you always mark a kid as failing? Easy, you put the failing mark on the paper when they fail. If that happens to be all the time, so be it. The fact of the matter is, if a kid is not performing on grade level, you don’t say, “That’s okay. You tried you best. I’ll pass you anyway.” You say, “Kid, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to be here again next year. No worries though; this’ll help you in the long run.”)

If anything, this piece has renewed my faith in fiction. There’s a reason people’s everyday stories (excepting the “extraordinary” ones) don’t usually make it into successful books. We don’t care! This is overly dramatized everyday stuff, and I don’t care. We don’t want to hear about your childhood memory of the Chinese-Canadian shopkeeper or a day in the classroom, especially when the greatest emotional link in the story is one experienced only by the storyteller. There’s nothing here tying me into the story. Yes, I suppose you’re meant to think about your own memories and how you feel about them in past, present, place, and inner crud; but it’s not working for me. I’m not striving to be “God” in a study, looking down on everyone with absolute wisdom, but I prefer the behind-the-scenes approach. Let the participants’ stories take center stage and let me recount them without drawing attention away from them and to myself. I don’t want to be a spotlight-hog, and I don’t really see the need to involve myself emotionally, or memory-aly. And zero attachment on my part means this is just another piece of soddy academic nonsense read for class and then gleefully burned at a later date. :)

This is also making me more than a little apprehensive about the upcoming project…I’m anticipating a low interest level, which will necessitate a load of design. (I don’t know about you, but my life is not that interesting.)


"Situating Narrative Inquiry." Clandinin, D. Jean, Daynes, J. Gary, & Pinnegar, Stefinee. 2006.

Attack of the Quotes II:
"The four turns are a change in the relationship between the researcher and the researched; a move from the use of number toward the use of words as data; a change from a focus on the general and universal toward the local and specific; and a widening in acceptance of alternative epistemologies or ways of knowing" (p. 1).

"However, we become narrative inquirers only when we recognize and embrace the interactive quality of the researcher-researched relationship, primarily use stories as data and analysis, and understand the way in which what we know is embedded in a particular context, and finally that narrative knowing is essential to our inquiry" (p. 7).

"How fully the researcher embraces narrative inquiry is indicated by how far he or she turns in her or his thinking and action across what we call here the four turns toward narrative. The four include the following: (1) a change in the relationship between the person conducting the research and the person participating as the subject (the relationship between the researcher and the researched), (2) a move from the use of number toward the use of words as data, (3) a change from a focus on the general and universal toward the local and specific, and finally (4) a widening in acceptance of alternative epistemologies or ways of knowing" (p. 7). (…Well, doesn’t this sound familiar.)

"Ironically, when researchers make the turn from an objective stance in the researcher-researched relationship, it is their view of the other rather than the self that changes. Researchers admit that the humans and human interaction they study exist in a context and that the context will influence the interactions and the humans involved" (p. 11).

Response:
Well, I guess “Narrative Inquiry” wasn’t all that clear for me…according to these guys, for it to be true “narrative inquiry,” the researchers have to have an interactive relationship with their subjects. (Well, good thing the class is doing an “Oral Research Project.” I see nothing about narrative inquiry, nor do I want to.)

Just because I’m expected to come away from a study having learned something, it doesn’t mean I have to fully immerse/interact with the study participants. I know I do not remain fully objective in mind during a study (though I try not to let it seep through much), and I know that a researcher’s interactions with the researched can produce an effect on the study. Psychology and science nerds alike warn you about projection, allowing your own ideas/preconceptions to affect a study. Yes, I admit, the very fact that I’m still alive and breathing while observing a subject will have some effect on him/her. (My apologies, I’ll have to remedy that.) Still, I don’t know that I want to jump all the way over to the extreme of narrative inquiry. I like being able to measure things, as consistently as possible, too much.

Perhaps it’s a tad delusional, but I like the idea of a studying a subject within his/her context, but ignoring the the part of the context that includes me. I know I am part of the context, but I’m kind of against self-study in any place outside my journal and prayer.

I like to present research, or writing of any kind, straight to the reader, without interference from me. Letting the reader form his/her own opinion without my trying to skew it ahead of time is a big thing for me. I don’t think, in most cases, people want to be told what or how to think; they want to be given a chance to think and act for themselves. (And this would be a beautiful spot to spiral off on a stupid government rant, but I will refrain from doing so…for now.)

It’s true: stats don’t lie. Statisticians do. Still, while there are types of research where I enjoy using words, I’m a number fan, too. It makes me feel like the results are more tangible, even if they don’t cover every little variance as words can.

I thought other teachers demanded particular research questions/studies, but these guys are intense. Maybe I’m just not enough of a humanist for this stuff, which is strange; usually, I love hearing specific, detailed stories. Being able to do so is a huge part of writing fiction, which may be why I don’t quite associate it with research. Hmm…food for thought.

This blurring of the knowing worries me as well. I’m a sequential nut. I like things to be orderly, to have a sense of what’s going on when and where with some definitive boundaries. Trying to understand information in multiple ways strikes me as a disaster waiting to happen (maybe). You know the old saying: jack of all, master of none.

By the by...homework assigned Monday and due Wednesday is pure malicious evility. (Yes, evility.) That alone may condemn both these class readings to the spot of pavement over which passes a large, heavy, unmerciful bus.

"Dubliners" by James Joyce
"An Encounter"
As the prof has requested that we focus in on place, I'll try. I confess, though, I'm not as big of a description person as I used to be. There are still some authors/genres where I can read pages of intricate detail and love it; but in general, give me the basic idea, let my mind do the rest, and get on with the stupid plot already.

That said, Joe Dillon's back garden, where the narrator played Wild West with the other boys gives a sense of freedom, of adventure. This seems to be the narrator's chief escape, and it suffices...for a time. Then, "true" adventure calls. The faraway takes on a romantic quality. If I could just get there, I'd have a real, exciting adventure. School or adventure? Need the question be posed?

But throughout the journey, out on the open water, open streets, the time and money to stop and buy snacks as they wished, I was a little underwhelmed by the boys' adventure. The shift from the usual sights to the open "unknown" seemed to be a setup for the reader to feel the freedom, independence, and novelty of it all that one might expect the boys to feel as well. But it just fell flat for me. I'm not sure if I didn't get enough contrast between settings 1 and 2 or just didn't catch on all that well.

Then the old man stepped in and spoiled that (kind of there) sense of freedom and comfort, perhaps because he was both crazy and an adult. There went the authority-less day. For me, it created unease in the boys and the reader, which I suppose was the intent. The old man was the ancient, cracked chewing gum some unwatched child had stuck on an masterpiece of an oil painting of an open field. There was a bit of suspense, not knowing where the story would go next. 

It built up all sorts of expectations for me and then just stopped. What's with that? Sure, I suppose we saw a miniature nod toward friendship and separating-the-men-from-the-boys and be-careful-what-you-wish-for, but come on. That's it? That's how you're going to end it? All that lead up with the crazy old man, and it goes nowhere. Not that everything has to have some amazing fantastical end, but a little more conclusion/closure would have been nice. (They never even made it to the all-important Pigeon house!) Seeing the story drop out there made me feel like it had wasted my time, and you're never too inclined to look farther for signs of merit once that's happened.

"Araby"
Since I spent forever on that first section, the speedy version.
- musty, littered (feels downtrodden *readstalkerish*) priest's former apartment where our enchanted lad (semi-stalker) watches for his lovely lady: made me think that, like the kid, maybe there was something good in it, maybe it was just a waste of space/time
- this kid, muttering and crying to his love on a rainy night by a broken pane...reminded me "Don Quixote" (which I'm presently reading in another class). His obsession with a girl he hardly knows/speaks to combined with his melodramatic moments/speech and stalkerish habits? Gee, no wonder I never sympathized with him.
- dark, mostly closed up, depressing bazaar...waste of the kid's time and effort, a fruitless journey...No wonder I came out of this feeling the same. Waste. Yeah, kid, be ashamed...and get over it.


Micro Fiction by Jerome Stern
I appreciate the difficulty of writing a fully developed story/plot within the constraints of this genre...but some non-endings work better than others for me. (Again, short version...in keeping with the brief tradition of the pieces in question.)
- Wrong Channel: limited environment details, but effect...well, it's obviously making Barbarita nervous. Significant. (Seriously, though, the doctors aren't a little more suspicious about important terms possibly lost in translation?)
- Mockingbird: First, may Peter die. Betting good money the prof loved the color refs. Some of the descriptive language, particularly in metaphor, was interesting ("island of silence bobs to the surface" p. 43). Was a little too vague and abstract at the end to work as a non-ending for me.
- Land's End: An amazing amount of description for such a short piece. And the way everything is described, as someone else's or used by someone else, builds on the idea of not belonging, of being a stranger. (Can kind of relate to that one, so we'll let this escape the book burning. 'Nother Don Quixote ref...)
- Waiting: A ragged, broken down environment for a ragged, broken down woman. Interesting. The job (and parent) strike me as a snare in which the the sub is caught...a very tight snare, upping the pressure more and more til she snaps.

Alrighty then, since I wrote a novella for the last bit, I feel perfectly justified in skimping on the word count here...unless I start ranting, in which case you, dear reader, will receive much more than you want and will likely close this window to escape the rubbish.


"A Native Hill" by Wendell Berry (edited/introduced by Norman Wirzba)
Okay, I think I'm starting to sense a trend here along the lines of mucho description and bits of everyday life. Looks likes, once again, we have major imagery and symbolism...though this one makes more of a reflective tie between present, history, and environmentalism. Honestly, while I'd probably love this if I were a green freak or history buff, it strikes me as loads of description (more than I care to see at once) interspersed with preachy rambling. It almost has that "message within personal experience" vibe "Paris to the Moon" has at the beginning...but then it just keeps going on and on and on. For that sort of length, I think you need an audience with a super high interest level, or a captive audience (like college students). That, or just write it in a never ending blog post; they're perfect for protracted reflection sessions. :)


"Narrative Life" by Gian Pagnucci
Well, if I weren't fearing and dreading the Twitterive assignment before, I sure am now. The stories of our lives? I'll admit, some of the stuff I hear is pretty story-worthy, but it always seems to be someone else's life. Now, I think that may be a byproduct of the typical "grass looks greener on the other side" syndrome, but looking at my own life...

It takes me back to that first(?) day of class when the prof asked us to write down a "secret," preferably something embarrassing so that the people might laugh and be entertained. I couldn't think of anything I would put under "secret." Yes, I have spit takes and clumsiness and more regrets/shameful moments than I'd like, but there's really nothing I wouldn't tell if asked, nothing "secret." I guess life, written as is, at least, seems too mundane.

Pagnucci talks about preserving your past...I've kind of already lost most of it. ^^;; There are things I'll remember if something else sparks them, but it's not like an archive I can just search and open at will. And in general, I don't really mind the memories fading.

Don't get me wrong. I love stories. I doubt I'd be a Writing major if I didn't. But while I'll put bits of myself in my stories, I'm not sure how I feel about writing "my stories" if that makes any sense.

じゃまた

As I begin commenting on these class readings, I'm struck with a thought: within this blog, open to the public, I feel the need to filter for my audience. My professor will probably say that's a good thing, that keeping one's audience in mind while writing is essential, but honestly, it kind of ticks me off. What if I really hate a piece? What if my response to a reading is that, literary masterpiece or not, it bored me to tears and/or drove me to drink?

I suppose I can always just label the blog "private" at semester's end before handing out this website link to potential employers. :)

Now that that's out of the way, on to the readings! Might as well start with "The Collected Works of Billy the Kid" by Michael Ondaatje. Being half brain dead, I was glad to have the notes in the margins spell out thoughts of imagery and symbolism for me, but those notes also reminded me of something. I want to say it was in Writer's Mind with Maxson(?), but one of our readings also had scrawls and underlines throughout the file. The question was posed: does it affect how you interpret the text? Well, duh. Whether you mean to think the same thoughts as the original scribbler, the fact that an extra line or word is there draws your eye and forces your brain to think about it differently. Why did someone label this section with particular emphasis? Was he right? Was it the teacher just trying to throw us off the scent? So many questions...

Other than that, I didn't care much for the piece. A story told in straight description with no dialogue can get pretty tiresome pretty fast, and it didn't help that the focus on imagery and symbolism bogged down the already slow-paced plot(?) for me.

"Paris to the Moon" by Adam Gopnik had Billy's issue of dallying about, describing and then describing some more, meandering through a plot(?). However, I had a little more connection here because bits and pieces reminded of both other classes and my Semester Abroad experience. The ideas of media permeating everything, affecting how we think and use technology, and yet seeing technology adapted to fit different cultures' needs, struck home. In America, with all our plugs and outlets and cables, escaping the media seems a dream of the past. As for a "Regulon" to hold it in check, keep it from devouring us all...I suppose we haven't met a universal for this pest as of yet because the demand remains, so the supply continues. Unless, of course, you want the government to come in and reign everything in. But that's a whole other bucket of radioactive worms I won't go into.

As for my Semester Abroad comparisons, it was the little things that made me smile. Adventures with adapters and converters, idiotic machines that refuse to run the way you know they should. And my favorite line: "But then all cultural prejudices seem like practical facts to the prejudiced" (52). It's true, and funny...especially when the old people sitting at the cafe table ask if you have a jacket and then laugh at the silly American who'll freeze to death in (what would be) warm New Jersey weather. Yeah, it works with the old folk. :)

I think this piece worked, explaining the author's insights and opinions, without sounding overbearing or over-preachy because Gopnik presented it as experience, as life. That personal connection, the human factor, kept me from tuning him out...even if it was France. ;)

And now I'm going to save this before this evil program gives me another scare and makes me think (momentarily) that it has deleted all my hard work. ¡Hasta luego!