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.