“Blogging in the Field”: a Meta-Post

Hello again, and welcome to another cranium-vibrating blog session from “The Istanbulator.” In this installment we have an essay about keeping a blog while doing ethnographic fieldwork, so let’s dig in.

Veni, vidi, bloggy.

Firstly I should speak to the matter of motivation for keeping such a blog. I would be remiss to omit that a part of it amounts to personal vanity, which I find in moderation to serve as a useful medium for self-reflection. On a blog of one’s own one can put forward an idealized personal representation (whatever that may mean for each person) that in (inevitable) moments of doubt in the midst of fieldwork frustrations can remind the blogger that the research endeavor is not a total write-off. Although it is hoped that feedback from informants, neighbors, et al., in the field be mostly encouraging, it’s also the case that a researcher is generally “on his/her own” out there; posting items about the little victories and problems-solved that appear to confirm success and general life stability can be a booster for the self-esteem that’s necessary to keep it together and drive the project forward, and – just like in real life – even a lack of response may be taken as tacit approval (“maybe no-one’s throwing rocks at me because I’m doing alright!”). In any case, readers’ comments can be “moderated” (made public or kept hidden... see below) to suit the needs of the blogger. [1]

If for no other reason than the above, it is worth a reminder to read blogs as critically as you read anything else. A blog is like an ideology; what it refuses to say is as interesting and important as what it insists on saying. [2]

Know your audience?

I didn’t put a “visitor counter” on my blog so I have no idea how many people were following my little adventures, much less who they actually were. I got very few responses overall - just enough to make me think it wasn’t a totally solipsist endeavor – but that doesn’t bother me; I enjoy other people’s cultural produce all the time without commenting on it. Still, there is the potential for bizarre and anonymous comments; I wonder who it is who thought this (bottom of page) is the appropriate response to the news “my mother has a brain tumor” (and what shall I say about my strangely biblical fire-meets-fire response?). And what about my writing inspired this (anonymous, unpublished) "comment," I wonder?

It seems likely that most of my readers have been people who already know me, at least half of them not ethnomusicologists; especially since feedback may be sparse, deciding how much jargon and technical information to put up there is a factor in the writing. For the most part I just threw it all in and slightly over-explained everything, which seems to have worked fine.

It’s safe to assume, though, that some of the blog’s visitors may be informants or potential informants. This can make blog content great advertising for the project, especially if you can link to informants’ web-presences, or better, have something (like my videos of taksim performances ) that can be demonstrated rather than just mentioned on the blog. But be sure when you’re gathering/making such a thing whether or not the informant would want or allow you to put it up there; I had some who were very eager to share their taksim-s with the world via Internet (and gave them copies of the clips for their own use, which later appeared on Facebook, You Tube, etc.) and others who requested specifically that I not put them on the ‘Net — ask! [3]

There’s also the issue of keeping your bright ideas to yourself. On the one hand “publishing” something on a blog is a kind of claim to copyright; it provides date-stamped evidence of your first engagement with what you may take to be an original idea. On the other hand, it’s possible that someone else may scoop your idea and get it published in a more professionally noteworthy medium before you do, and all you’ve got is a claim and an old blog post no-one will remember (much less cite). [4]

Additionally, if colleagues are actually reading the blog, it can be a medium for discussing and perhaps even solving real issues that come up in the application of our art, although the only time I actually tried this (third paragraph) I got no response at all. Still, the potential is there.

Better than spam

Overall, I think keeping this “field blog” has been a good experience; less annoying to friends than mass e-mails, a fine distraction when one is needed, pretty good for keeping up morale (both for yourself and for worried relatives back home), potentially a forum for working out practical problems with one’s colleagues, and on balance more helpful than harmful to the research itself. I’m not exactly sure what to do with it now that I’m no longer “in the field,” but it seems as though these same qualities may be useful during the process of writing a dissertation, so I suppose I’ll just keep on posting.

One more note before I shuffle along, though – blogging is forever: for no particularly good reason, anything that goes up on the Internet is likely to be cached or archived somewhere else on the ‘Net and remain available for many years — possibly without end — even after you think you've taken it down; you really are publishing, here. Caveat blogator.

‘Til next time then… thanks for stopping by.

[Ever hear the saying, "people who like sausage should avoid seeing how it's made"? The footnotes in this post are for the sausage-makers in the UCSB Ethnomusicology Forum - don't worry, you're not missing much. These are not the 'droids you're looking for.]

A Month By Any Other Name

Hello, fans. It’s a month since I last posted anything here; a strange and strained month that seems to promise little more than another like it to follow, and that’s how that goes, though I’m looking forward to life in the Greater Chicago Area. I’m still in Santa Barbara, now, awaiting the official memorial for my mother, which we’ve set for Saturday, October 10th at Shoreline Park, near the wooden steps, 2 PM (come by, if you feel like it – very informal). Soon after I’ll pack up and drive to Evanston, Illinois, settle in for my first real winter, and get to assembling this dissertation.

As you may have heard, the University of California (along with the state budget) is broke, and they seem to think that they can make up some of the loss by increasing our fees and tuition by 40% (8% already, and another 32% coming up)(not to mention cutting professors’ pay 8-15%). Since I’ll be away I’m having to put more energy than I’d like into playing dueling-loopholes with the bureaucracy to keep my costs down, which also involves questions about my insurance and repayment of student loans. This is the least interesting part of the Graduate Student Game.

But the game’s not all bad. I’m getting a lot done on the writing already, and I think it’ll be a good dissertation. Some people dread the writing part, but I love it – I’m already up to nearly 90 pages (including front matter, two chapters, 5 appendices, and an ever-expanding bibliography). And I’ve enjoyed getting back to UCSB Middle East Ensemble rehearsals, seeing all the folk again, playing ud and cümbüş (though there’s no Turkish music this quarter, at least not yet).

And today at school we had our first Ethnomusicology Forum of the quarter; this is a regular weekly meeting of all the graduate students and professors to keep in contact, share research, ideas, complaints, host guest artists and speakers, etc. Today I met and welcomed the students who’ve joined while I was away, heard about research people did over the summer (I’ll present my Istanbul tale next Wednesday), and – I’ve been leading up to this – learned that the week after that there’s a subject for discussion in the Forum, “Blogging in the Field” – about researchers who blog during and about their research excursions (I guess this is a ‘thing’ – see here). Since I’ll be either on the road or in Evanston that day I thought I might post something here (that is, above, in the next post) about it… a sort of meta-post; blogging about the blogging.

I wonder if that’s such a good idea (not least because I have no idea who actually reads this), but marginally bad ideas seem to be a part of blogging, anyway, so we’ll see what comes up.

OK – thanks for stopping by!