Reflection 3: Ethnography

I positioned myself in Goldstein on the love seat near the puzzle table, where there is a puzzle in progress and someone’s coffee mug has been left.  The mug is insulated and purple.  The puzzle is of Pooh and friends in a field with balloons. I had a view of the entire area behind periodicals in the Goldstein library, bordered on the other side by windows.  Here is my summary paragraph:

It is clear from my observation that this area of Goldstein is a good place for a number of quiet activities: studying, note taking, lounging, sleeping, communicating via electronic device (as well as a place to charge said device), and reading.  It is also apparent that the area is considered a relatively safe place, as personal items were not watched closely, and even left for short periods of time.  Further, one might infer from the observation that the population that frequents the library is relatively young (perhaps undergrads), and primarily white.  Of course, this is just one day and one small sample.  Further, it can be surmised that the Goldstein staff, at least the one on the desk today, is industrious and conscientious.  In addition, those who make use of Goldstein tend to mind their own business, not being overly concerned when a new person enters the space, some not even looking up.

I learned upon trading, and then in class discussion, that it is important to remember that we do not all share the same frame of reference or share the same experiences.  Just because I know what Goldstein is doesn’t mean everyone else does.  Also, upon reflection, despite my best efforts to be incredibly detailed in my descriptions, there were still things I left out.  So, what the Forsythe article sought to illustrate is very salient: doing ethnography properly takes years of training to reach the level of competence at which one can consider oneself an ethnographer.

Reflection 3: Ethnography

For my project, I observed a construction site just behind the College of Information.

I felt extremely self-conscious while writing my notes. For one, construction workers–typically males–are often stereotyped as “cat callers.” I was aware of the irony of my observing a group of men who are, generally speaking, often criticized for how they presumably observe women. For another, I would venture to guess that construction workers usually feel invisible in terms of how society views or interacts with them as they complete their tasks…and there I was gazing at them. At least one man noticed me as I watched the group. I wondered if he felt it odd that an outsider was interested in them. Fortunately, when my laptop’s mouse pad froze, I was able to switch note-taking methods so I ended up using the voice recorder app on my phone. I felt less conspicuous as I spoke into my phone.

When it came to turning my notes into a narrative description, first I realized that I had not chosen a very good place to focus because I was interrupted a number of times. Thus, I learned the importance of solitude when transcribing or analyzing. Moreover, I was very aware of the fact that some of my notes (i.e. Hispanic male workers, white male supervisor) may be controversial. I omitted some notes on the basis that they were button-pushing. I later learned that it is okay to note sensitive information so long as I don’t interpose interpretation.

I admit that I don’t recall any of my partner’s questions at the present moment. Nevertheless, the partner assignment was particularly enlightening. I was impressed by how often my partner quantified information. I opted for a verbal approach but, after exchanging paragraphs and posing questions, I recognized the benefits of quantitative subject data. I believe that it lends itself to balance and neutrality. Aside from the six Hispanic workers and one white supervisor note, I didn’t include quantitative data. Instead, I described the sounds, activities and structures at the scene.