The Interview
Put very simply, it is the anthropologist’s job to study the lives and behaviors of a cultural group, to interpret these tell-tales, and then to translate these observations into an accurate and honest portrayal of a people. In addition to this task, the anthropologist must retain an awareness of her own perceptual experience as being informed by a professional and cultural role with its own assumptions and interpretive frames; must remain conscious of the professional filter through which all interview and observational data flow; and must contain, to a reasonable degree, the distortions that such a filter might produce.
Few individuals have the opportunity to examine the filter from both ends, but I recently had the chance to see my own reflection in the interpretive pool of another when I met with Southwest Journal reporter Michael Metzger to discuss an upcoming class that I’m teaching in intergenerational writing. Instead of heading out to the field with a tape recorder and notebook in hand, I found myself host to the experience, a native in my own apartment and staring nervously down the barrel of someone else’s tape recorder.
Now, when I say “barrel,” I don’t mean to imply that the interview could be characterized as hostile or remotely militaristic. As a matter of fact, we had a very pleasant and interesting exchange that afternoon across my kitchen table and he was wonderfully low-key about the tape recorder. What I mean is that, well, there’s something kind of unnerving about someone coming to take a look-see at what you’ve got to offer. There’s something a little unnerving about being observed, even if I did invite him.
Underneath it all, I guess a part of me was reacting to the image of the ruthless reporter who uses his inquisitive mind like a machete to mash his way into the brutal heart of truth. I had this irrational fear that he would find some aspect of my behavior morally reprehensible, that he would somehow discover my student loans haven’t been paid in full, or that, with a wisely aimed flick of his shoe, he would see that rugs had been placed strategically around the apartment to cover the coffee stains I haven’t yet had time to excise.
Seem neurotic? Maybe so, but I am reminded of a research project I once did in school where I met with a seemingly similar dread of judgment from interview subjects. The assignment was to investigate perceptions on co-sleeping, also known as “the family bed,” where parents or multiple siblings sleep in the same bed together with a child. I had decided to interview ministers for the project and literally called every church in my area (around 40) to schedule appointments. Of these 40, only 2 churches had pastors who would agree to participate and one of these called back to say he had changed his mind.
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