How can social scientific research methods such as participant observation and keeping field notes deepen and expand your understanding of your internship experience?

The post should relate the readings with the topic of Workplace Research as ethnography and address the questions: How can social scientific research methods such as participant observation and keeping field notes deepen and expand your understanding of your internship experience?

A few paragraphs long; make clear and explicit reference to All of the four readings without merely summarizing them; pose a specific question about the readings also.

Requirements: 400 words

2023/9/20 11:18Writer’s BlockAmelia Frank-Vitale – American Ethnological Societyhttps://americanethnologist.org/online-content/collections/taking-note/writers-block/1/4Writer’s BlockAmelia Frank-VitaleI could not write.I would get back to my apartment in the center of San Pedro Sula, and I could not write. I would pull my little red-orange hatchback up to the portón, thinking about the conversations I’d had that day. I would get out, unlock the bigdoors, swing them back and gingerly drive into my narrow parking space while replaying important moments in mymind. I’d walk back, re-close and re-lock the portón, and then hike up the flight of stairs to my second storyapartment, remembering the way the air felt, smelled. I’d get inside, sit down, and I could not write.I was always a moderately disorganized but devoted note-taker. Even before officially becoming an anthropologist, Ialways had a notebook with me; I always jotted down reflections, thoughts, questions, ideas. I had multiple notebooksand no real system for what anything meant but everything I saw was in there, somewhere. As a research fellow inMexico, before I started a doctoral program, I would dutifully turn my handwritten notes into Evernote entries,tagging each entry with relevant keywords, creating an archive for myself that I could navigate later. When I beganfieldwork for my doctoral dissertation in Honduras, then, I was dismayed to find I was unable to write. Dismayed andembarrassed. Was I even doing fieldwork if I didn’t have the fieldnotes to document it all? How would any of this turninto a dissertation later if I couldn’t fill all the Moleskine notebooks I had dutifully brought with me to Honduras?Perhaps it was the newness of the place and the experience or the overwhelming of the senses that froze my hands. ButI was not new at fieldwork. Maybe it was the heat, the stifling evening air in my un-air-conditioned living room, thatcaused the brain fog that inevitably came with getting home and opening up the laptop.More likely, though, it was the heaviness of the work. I was in Honduras to research the situation that young peoplefound themselves in after being deported to neighborhoods with exceptionally high incidence of violence. I was askinghow they navigated daily life in a city and country that ranks among the most dangerous in the world, and how theymanaged being expelled from the US (or Mexico) after trying to seek safety. There was a lot of death, violent death,circling around us. An intense structural violence set the backdrop for this context. Violence was everywhere, on thetips of people’s tongues, lurking outside their doors, hanging over their neighborhoods like the storm clouds thatwould gather during the rainy season, threatening to drown the city.I could not write.After fighting with myself for a few months, I gave up trying to force myself into my old habits of fieldnote-taking.Instead, I started recording my voice. As soon as I left someone’s home, or a meeting, or an encounter, as soon as Iclimbed back into my little hatchback, I would turn on my voice recorder—or often my cell phone––and narrate to

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2023/9/20 11:18Writer’s BlockAmelia Frank-Vitale – American Ethnological Societyhttps://americanethnologist.org/online-content/collections/taking-note/writers-block/2/4myself whatever had just transpired. I still carried a notebook with me; I would jot things down occasionally. Thesevoice notes to myself, however, turned into the real substance of my fieldnotes.“Fieldwork Reflection(s).” Cabañas, San Pedro Sula, 2019. Photo credit: AmeliaFrank-Vitale.It took me more than a year after leaving the field to listen to my voice notes, to transcribe them, to turn them intotext. When I did, I found that I had the whole world of the field recorded. My thoughts, my reflections, werepunctuated by the ding, ding, ding of the car telling me to put my seatbelt on. Ozuna and Bad Bunny songs on theradio break the heaviness of my long silences, the reggaetón of the day adding levity and texture to my recounting ofconversations and sensations. The teenage window washers and orange sellers at the intersections are kind andgracious when I hear myself call them “mi amor,” like the doña I am in that context, and apologize for not having anycash on me. I hear myself tell one it gives me pena, embarrassment, shame. “No se preocupe, para la próxima mami.”The characteristic mix of formality and informality elegantly recorded in that one sentence.I hear my voice change as time goes on. I hear how tired I sound, how worn, how worried. I also hear my Spanishchange. I take on the j in place of the s that is particular to San Pedro Sula’s urban margins. I drop octaves as I recountthe conversations with young, gang-affiliated men, approximating their manner of speech, their turn of phrase.After leaving Honduras, it took me a long time to be able to listen to all my recordings—both of myself and theinterviews I had done. But once I did, when I could, the voice notes revealed so much more to me than the writtennotes I managed to take. They included the texture of the moment, the music, my voice. The ambient soundsreverberated in my words, animated the recordings, and sparked memories, emotions, and thoughts that would havebeen flattened in my notebooks.Anthropology is always filtered. We’ve come to understand and accept, collectively, that we do not hold an objectivelens that communicates the world as it is onto the page. We understand what we learn through our experiences, our

2023/9/20 11:18Writer’s BlockAmelia Frank-Vitale – American Ethnological Societyhttps://americanethnologist.org/online-content/collections/taking-note/writers-block/3/4Share This Story, Choose YourPlatform!

VUTRelated Postspositionality, and, I think, our way of recording. In the space between my brain and my hand, filtering occurred. Iwould order my thoughts as I turned them into text, either in a notebook or directly onto the digital page. And, surely,as I spoke out loud in the cocoon of my car, I also engaged in a process of organizational filtering, choosing somewords and moments to record over others. But my voice is punctuated by heavy sighs, by reprimanding myself formissing a turn, by yelling Spanish profanities at other drivers (with the windows closed, of course). There is a rawnessto these fieldnotes that my written versions never have. There is an honesty to them; they retain a sense of thedifficulties of fieldwork, the frenetic, hectic pace I kept, the insecurities I felt as to whether anything I was noting downwould matter, would make sense, would ever amount to anything at all.Transcribing myself later, alongside my interviews, is more work, undoubtedly, than sorting through my taggedEvernote files, but the richness I found there was unparalleled. The voice notes offered another layer of data, theretention of something ephemeral that I had been unable to capture by hand (or keyboard).And every time I listen to them and hear Taki Taki play in the background, I am transported back to the heat, to thesun, to the smell of San Pedro Sula, to the coolness of the air-conditioned car, to the relief I felt to get a moment’srespite as the beads dried on my perpetually sweaty face, to the pride I felt at learning how to navigate the city’s streetsand unmarked neighborhoods, to the dread I felt at having to leave when I was only just getting to understand somethings. When I hear the ding ding ding of the car, reminding me to put on my seatbelt yet again, as I drive across theSula Valley and record my voice, I remember what it felt like to sit with one young man who was at his breaking point,holding back tears, still wearing the shoes he’d been given in detention. As I hear myself talk about him, and his shoes,as the radio plays in the background, I remember how to write.Amelia Frank-Vitale is a Postdoctoral Research Associate and Lecturer in Princeton University’s Program in LatinAmerican Studies. An anthropologist, she studies migration, deportation, violence, and survival in Mexico andHonduras. Her work has been published in Geopolitics, The Journal of Latin American and Caribbean Anthropology,Public Anthropologist, The Annals of Anthropological Practice, and NACLA: Report on the Americas.Cite As: Frank-Vitale, Amelia. 2022. “Writer’s Block” In “Taking Note: Complexities and Ambiguities in WritingEthnographic Fieldnotes,” edited by Magdalena Zegarra Chiappori and Verónica Sousa, AmericanEthnologist website, 26 August 2022, [https://americanethnologist.org/features/collections/taking-note-complexities-and-ambiguities-in-writing-ethnographic-fieldnotes/writers-block]

2023/9/20 11:18Writer’s BlockAmelia Frank-Vitale – American Ethnological Societyhttps://americanethnologist.org/online-content/collections/taking-note/writers-block/4/4We Are Social

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Home/ On Remote Fieldwork and “Shifting Gears”ABOUT THIS BLOGOn Remote Fieldwork and “Shifting Gears”May 15, 2020Posted by: Michelle StefanoShare this post:Professor Nicole King discussing a consent form with Lonnie Combs in his shop on W. BaltimoreSt., Baltimore, with students Dawn Baskin and DeAndre Bright. 2019. Photo by WilliamShewbridge.I find inspiration in anthropologist Ulf Hannerz’s characterization of ethnographyè as ‘the art of the possible’ and take from it theidea of doing the best with what you got. During this time when physical distancing is not only mandatory, but also compassionate,the ways in which we have tended to proceed in setting up and facilitating our fieldwork have been dealt a serious blow. The steps wetake to develop relationships with field partners while hanging out, talking, and observing in the field have been disrupted. Andopportunities to learn more, interview, and document perspectives, expressions, and stories have become less than ideal.From my couch I recently attended a final class presentationè of an undergraduate course in ethnography through an onlinevideoconferencing platform. The course set out in late January to work with food justice organizations in Baltimore and produce apodcast by its end. Students were planning to document related places and conduct in-depth, semi-structured interviews with staff,FOLKLFE TODAYAmerican Folklife Center & VeteransHistory ProjectISSN 2692-1731Share & Subscribe to this blogThis BlogSearchCATEGORIESãARCHIVESã’t Back to topSkip to content

community leaders, and activists…then, come mid-March, they had to “shift gears,” as the course’s professor aptly put it.[1] And withgreat agility, the students did just that: they turned the ethnographic lens inward to their own families, homes, and neighborhoods todocument the various roles food was playing in and near their lives – from its scarcity in stores, and transforming backyards intogardens, to learning traditional recipes from elders, and eating with distant relatives on religious holidays via Skype.However, for some who have been planning to begin – as well as continue – fieldwork during these months (and beyond), theprospect of shifting gears can be daunting and disappointing, compounded by an unnerving uncertainty of how the pandemic willunfold. In general, this shift entails a move from the physical world of once-unmasked faces, gestures, handshakes, and hugs to one oftelephone and/or web-based video communication. With this can come a loss of “intimacy” and “vivid details,” as my friend NicoleKing[2] recently shared, where the benefits of being together – the human connection at the heart of ethnographic engagements – arediminished. Nicole is in the stages of a research project where building rapport with potential interlocutors remains ongoing, withsome relationships starting from scratch, and although her methodological path centers on interviews, she recognizes all else that islost by not being there. She explains:One of the first steps in the process is to find a place the interview participant/s feel comfortable. Sometimes this is their homeor office, etc. This process helps me understand the person I am interviewing in new ways. I prefer to interview in the field andmany people feel most comfortable in their own spaces… and being invited in is a privilege and a window into the person’s lifein an intimate way. I am able to ask questions about the place where we are doing the interview. I often ask people to defineand describe where we are. As we know, how a neighborhood or space is defined is important and culturally significant. Whilewe do have a contrived background online that may tell us something, it is not the same.As we strive to create the conditions, founded on trust, where our field partners can guide us into their bodies of knowledge in theirwords and on their terms, what are the mechanics of shifting gears? Or, in the spirit of the art of the possible, how can one carry outethnographic research while remaining physically distant?Dining together: relatives joining aspecial meal via videoconference ona laptop propped up on a suitcase.2020. Photo by Fikir Ejigineh.In addition to a wealth of scholarship on ethnographies conducted in virtual worlds, where the use of digital/online technologies forparticipant observation and interviewing is most appropriate, there are some interesting qualitative studies of physical-world,sociocultural phenomena that were undertaken from a distance due to the impossibility of being there. In her article on ‘followingRussian street demonstrations via social mediaè,’ such as through live-streaming platforms and on Twitter, the anthropologist PattyGray toys with notions of physical presence and questions if being away from her field, but interpreting activities from afar, is“cheating.” She asks:Can this be considered a legitimate form of participant observation, “real” fieldwork? Or is it cheating because the “being there”part is missing? But in another way, what I am asking is whether this virtual presence allows me to “be there”—if not physically,then perhaps temporally (“being then”)—in such a way that I actually can investigate this phenomenon anthropologically.Gray admits that there is no true substitute for physical participation out in the field, but emphasizes that “humans are creative tool-users” and “[w]hen they want to connect with other humans, it does not necessarily matter if their interlocutors are present in theflesh, if they are looking at each other across a Skype screen;” she argues that they will connect and find “copresence” using whatevermeans they have.t Back to topSkip to content

This was certainly the case for the anthropologist, Jonathan Skinner, who was conducting a ‘traditional’ ethnography on the island ofMontserratè when, in 1995, its volcano erupted and he, along with many of its residents, were evacuated, scattering to places allover. Back in Scotland, he was able to continue his research through a Montserratian email-based newsgroup that emerged in themonths that followed to share information and stay connected. This turn of events had Skinner rethinking “field as site” as “field asflow,” arguing that when such unforeseen disruptions occur, ethnographic practice should follow “these navigators of a new space.” Assuch, he calls for an open mindedness to the “new and unexpected avenues of the same field of research,” including “cyberspaceavenues of social life.”These examples draw on longer lines of interrogation into traditional anthropological notions of ‘the field’ as fixed, bounded, andalways located ‘elsewhere,’ bringing to light not only the hierarchical privileging of certain ‘fields’ over others in the history ofethnographic practice and scholarship, but the need for more flexible and fluid understandings of the ties between fieldwork andlocation, especially with respect to participant observation.As I alluded to earlier, I have been talking with friends who are currently facing these challenges, learning what concerns are poppingup for them as most pressing. One concern, for instance, relates to the ethical process of gaining informed consent, which for manywas typically handled in person. Both parties would look over a (physical) consent, or release, form that the person to be interviewedwould sign after a discussion of its points, addressing any questions that arise. Sometimes, these discussions lean more towardsnegotiation, where an agreement between fieldworker and field partner is hopefully reached, such as with respect to anonymityand/or the future uses of the recorded event. Other times, it is likely that the interview – and, thereby, consent process – will smoothlyunfold due to a longer-term building of rapport and trust that has already been underway. In any case, however, this process – atwhatever step – will also need to move online, or to the telephone, signaling the need for more discussion in the lead-up to those thatwill be recorded.Nicole and I were talking about the fact that, more than ever, one has to think hard about worst-case scenarios – that is, to plan for theworst, which could relate to consent issues, but also Internet connectivity. It goes without saying that not everyone has access to, uses,or feels comfortable with the Internet and its videoconferencing platforms, the popular communication channel these days. And evenwhen on Zoom, WebEx, Skype, or other platforms, cues may be missed, conversation flow may lag, and awkward interruptions mayabound. Moreover, the fragility of Internet connections also comes into play: the freezing up of screens mid-sentence and the abruptloss of meeting participants are commonplace. As such, it would be mightily helpful to have conversations with field partners abouttheir technological preferences and needs, as well as to bring up the possibility that connections could be dropped. Together,contingency plans – e.g. please interrupt me if you cannot hear; and who is calling whom back if our connection is lost? – can be prepared,and any pre-interview worry may be mitigated, even just by a little, for both.Indeed, in an almost counterintuitive sense, what is most needed for shifting gears is to start planning and penciling in the time toconsciously foster more talking. Even though fieldwork engagements may experience a sharp decline in real interaction, this is thetime to use what one has got, to leverage the crucial mode that remains – online/telephone conversations – to fill in the gaps. AsHannerz has said: “But then ethnography is an art of the possible, and it may be better to have some of it than none at all.”Another friend, Jennie Williams, a PhD Candidate in ethnomusicology at Indiana University Bloomington, is studying participation incommunity music making events in Southern Indiana by hanging out and playing at group sessions, interviewing musicians, anddocumenting oral histories of elders. She is smack in the middle of shifting to full-fledged Facebook and telephone communication,with occasional emails and texting, and these past weeks have found her not only calling her interlocutors (or friends) to make surethat they are healthy and well stocked, but to also maintain the relationships she has been developing for over a year. Jennie will soonbe setting up formal interviews, and has taken the time to assess the most appropriate channels to use. She notes that Facebook hasbeen beneficial in maintaining the “group setting,” for having conversations with more than one person at a time; yet, she warns thatthere are those who are not on Facebook and may “slip through the cracks.” As such, she is particularly mindful of taking the time tocall those who are not online. Importantly, she reminds me that there are still people out there who love to talk on the phone (herselfincluded), and thanks to their comfort, the ease with which they communicate is left largely unaffected.t Back to topSkip to content

Jennie Williams (left) with musician Becky Sprinkle (whose brother produces honey). 2019. Photoprovided by Traditional Arts Indianaè.Making the conscious effort to talk more with field partners is of course kind, and can help strengthen relationships, expanding ‘fieldengagements’ for far longer than would have been planned. In addressing losses of intimacy, the ‘ethnographic interview’ – often setas a one-off event – may be enhanced to last over a series of conversations, which can be followed up on in person at a later date(fingers crossed). Patty Gray’s positive outlook on how we will always find ways to connect has me thinking about the types of activitiesthat can be drawn upon during web-based video conversations, such as encouraging field partners to share photographs as a meansof jogging memories, or to look at online maps to describe places and spaces long gone.In addition, the ability to ensure ongoing consent – a tenet of ideal, ethical practice – is heightened through potential, regular check-insand, perhaps, updates on how the fieldwork is going. With the ability to record both telephone and video conversations, suchdocuments – including hardcopy transcriptions – can be sent to field partners for their approval, commentary, and clarification, asguided by usual practice, but also actively used as ways to extend conversations and deepen rapport.For some, a one-off interview may suffice, and limited contact is preferred. Though, as Jennie once again reminds me, theseconversations and relationships are two-way: “I get the phone calls, too! They want to know that I am doing OK during this time, aswell.” Recently, she realized that she was out of the honey that the brother of one of her musician friends produces. Jennie mentionedit on a recent phone call, seeing how she could buy more, and lo and behold, a couple of days later, her friend drove up fromSouthern Indiana to Bloomington unannounced with two full jars from their local apiary.It is safe to say that there is no one way to navigate fieldwork during this time, and these conversations should continue. There is agreater need for the sharing of knowledge and experiences in exploring what is possible and how we can proceed. In the spirit oftogetherness, I turn now to my colleagues here, at the AFC, as part of further Folklife Today posts on the topic. To be continued!Notes:1. Professor Sarah Fouts, American Studies, University of Maryland, Baltimore County2. Professor and Chair, American Studies, University of Maryland, Baltimore County CATEGORIESFieldwork•Oral HistoryCOMMENTS (2)1. Carl FleischhauerMay 18, 2020 at 10:09 amThank you for a thoughtful and wide-ranging blog, Michelle! All very interesting and it was great to see that the crew at UMBC madethe StoryMap you linked to using the _open source_ application developed under the auspices of the Knight Foundation: terrific modelto follow!t Back to topSkip to content

2. Anne K. RasmussenMay 18, 2020 at 1:51 pmThank you Nancy Grace for sharing news of Michelle Stefano’s blog on remote fieldwork and shifting gears. Last week, seeing thesemester coming to an end, I contacted a couple of my research communities in Jakarta, Indonesia. “I am ready to connect” I wrote onWhat’s App messages? What’s going on?” I was almost immediately invited to participate in an online seminar organized by the IslamicUniversity of Jakarta (which has twice been my sponsor, via Fulbright and AMINEF). So just before reading this blog, I was on a 3.5 hourzoom seminar with 230 participants in the zoom room and 900 watching on YouTube. The platform connected scholars in Canada, theUS, Indonesia, and Turkey and participants from all over the vast archipelago of Indonesia and throughout its diaspora. It was bothdistant but also very intimate — as I have found has been the case with my now-transitioned seminar and ensemble at William &Mary, both of which met synchronously and worked asynchronously for the second half of the semester. Indeed the Coronaverse hascancelled 8 weeks of summer research travel and some pretty exciting events that were to take place. But I am ready to adapt andtoday was my first step into synchronous, online interaction with the people I care about and collaborate with a half a world away.Making the most of “the art of the possible” here in Williamsburg, Virginia, I want to thank AFC and Michelle for this timely piece. Itrings my bell today!ADD A COMMENTThis blog is governed by the general rules of respectful civil discourse. You are fully responsible for everything that you post. Thecontent of all comments is released into the public domain unless clearly stated otherwise. The Library of Congress does not controlthe content posted. Nevertheless, the Library of Congress may monitor any user-generated content as it chooses and reserves theright to remove content for any reason whatever, without consent. Gratuitous links to sites are viewed as spam and may result inremoved comments. We further reserve the right, in our sole discretion, to remove a user’s privilege to post content on the Librarysite. Read our Comment and Posting Policy.Required fields are indicated with an * asterisk.Name (no commercial URLs) *Email (will not be published) *Comment:Add Comment Clear Comment¤“The Sun’s Gonna Shine In My BackDoor Someday”: Songs Of Hope In ATime Of FearBlog HomeFinding Solace in California Gold¥DISCLAIMER & POLICIESThese blogs are governed by the general rules of respectful civil discourse. By commenting on our blogs, you are fully responsible foreverything that you post. The content of all comments is released into the public domain unless clearly stated otherwise. The Library ofCongress does not control the content posted. Nevertheless, the Library of Congress may monitor any user-generated content as itt Back to topSkip to content

chooses and reserves the right to remove content for any reason whatever, without consent. Gratuitous links to sites are viewed asspam and may result in removed comments. We further reserve the right, in our sole discretion, to remove a user’s privilege to postcontent on the Library site. Read our Comment and Posting Policy.Links to external Internet sites on Library of Congress Web pages do not constitute the Library’s endorsement of the content of theirWeb sites or of their policies or products. Please read our Standard Disclaimer.Please read our Standard Disclaimer.Please read our Comment & Posting Policy.CONNECT WITH THE LIBRARYVisit the Library of Congress WebsiteAbout | Press | Careers | Donate | Inspector General | Legal | Accessibility | External Link Disclaimer | USA.govFIND US ON4SUBSCRIBE & COMMENTRSS & E-MailBlogsDOWNLOAD & PLAYPodcastsWebcastsiTunesU èQUESTIONSAsk a LibrarianContact Ust Back to top

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