“One must be continually prepared for anything, everything – and perhaps most devastating – nothing”

Quote

When I began my first day of work at Gordon Neighbourhood House (GNH), I felt unsure about a number of things. I had only a vague idea of what sort of work I might be doing as a volunteer in two different programs, I had no good ideas about what my final project might look like, and I did not have a clue where my inspiration was going to come from. There were only two things that I felt confident knowing: I am a volunteer and I am a student researcher. As for the rest of my doubts and confusion, I thought to myself, “Let the pieces fall where they may”. Surely my research would work itself out.

When I introduced myself to my program supervisor on the morning of my first shift, I explained my dual role with ease. Yet, after 11 hours of meeting GNH members, chopping vegetables and blending hummus for a communal meal, and doing my best to ensure the two-year-olds at “Weekend Family Place” stayed away from the street, things became even less clear. I was so concerned with plunging into my work as a volunteer, I was not sure whether I had fulfilled my duty as an ethnographer. My struggle in establishing an even balance between two roles had shaken my confidence about my position at GNH.

Communal meal at GNH's Food Skills For Families

When at GNH, I am first and foremost a volunteer. I am fortunate enough to have been welcomed into the organization, and am there to do whatever most benefits them. I wanted to ensure from the first day that everyone I interact with knows that I am also a student working on developing a final project. Because my role as student researcher shapes so much of my experience, I began with a naive assumption that others would show an active interest in my work. On the morning of my first shift, we introduced ourselves one-by-one, and I told everyone about my position. Everyone smiled at me, but no one asked further questions. I was then asked what my favourite food is. “My mom’s cheesecake,” I replied. That remark elicited much more of an excited response.

The most challenging component of my fieldwork thus far has been establishing a balance between participant and observer. In participating, however, I began to feel as though I was missing opportunities to do research. My own understanding of my role felt further confused when I approached a woman in one of my programs and asked her if she would be willing to do an interview with me one day, exploring conceptions of home and community. She nodded politely, and immediately proceeded to get up and leave the room. Panic set in. Will I be able to collect enough data if I spend my time busy making crafts with kids or cleaning dishes? In a chapter in FieldWorking by Chiseri-Strater and Sunstein, I found a quote by Margaret Mead that resonated with my own experiences:

 

“The fieldworker must choose, shape, prune, discard this and collect finer detail on that… But unlike the novelist…the fieldworker is wholly and helplessly dependent on what happens…One must be continually prepared for anything, everything – and perhaps most devastating – nothing.”

 

I was terrified of discovering nothing. It is not always possible, nor does it always offer the best insights, to be constantly asking questions or watching from the background with a pen and notepad. One personal learning curve in my work is to grow comfortable with the process of observing things as they happen. Simply being at the fieldsite allows for a deeper understanding of the place and the unspoken side of the culture that the place comprises. At my fieldsite, as at all places, sometimes this means that “nothing” happens at all.

The West End: Home to Gordon Neighbourhood House

 

Works Cited:

Bonnie Stone Sunstein & Elizabeth Chiseri-Strater 2007. Fieldworking: Reading and Writing Research. Bedford/St. Martins.

“Strangers” in the Neighborhood House

Literally translated as ‘friends of the community’, these words signify a welcoming ‘safe-space’ for all within the community.

“We have four young ladies with us today. They are from UBC…[and] will be here ‘till June.”

For my fellow classmates/volunteers and I, this marked the commencement of our IVEFS placement. At the same time, it introduced three “strangers” into the neighborhood house.

The “stranger” is a social position coined by Georg Simmel (1908). The term alludes to an individual fixed within a social circle, who is not perceived as entirely among the “in-group” due to his/her “origin” from outside that group.

Negotiating between the “participant” and “facilitator” labels, our position within the immigrant integration program in which we are placed, epitomizes that of the “stranger.” On the one hand, we have not the responsibility of facilitating the discussion groups, but simply that of preparation duties. Yet, as student ethnographers, we do not “fit in” with the participants either.

In a way, this “stranger” position in the neighborhood house facilitates my ability to hold both an emic and etic perspective (Sunstein & Chiseri-Strater, 2007). It allows me to make the strange familiar by immersing into the culture of the group, all the while trying to keep an “outsider” perspective on the issues arising during the course of my placement, by problematizing that which has been made familiar.

I had not questioned my exact responsibilities of having the privilege to see both sides of the story until my second week at the fieldsite. During that placement session, the topic of the Chinese head tax arose in the midst of an activity. In response to inquiring participants, a native English-speaker, who we shall refer to here as ‘X.’, took it upon himself to enlighten the group:

X.: “The UK had [the head tax] too…they called it the ‘poll tax’: P-O-L-L tax.”

Wrong.1

X.: “[It was] necessary at that time…to stop the 50,000 Chinese that wanted to come into Canada.”

Wrong again.

X.: “It’s even worse than today – you wouldn’t believe it.”

And strike three.

The facilitator rolled his eyes and hurried the group to “move on to the next activity,” but the damage was done.

It is understandable why the facilitator reacted to the situation the way he did, and overlooked it as “just another [controversial] thing X. said,” for he has said many of those throughout his time there. To put things into perspective, however, in no way was what X. said acceptable. Letting an anti-immigrant sentiment slide in a supposed “safe space” for immigrants is simply outrageous!

At the end of the day, an unsettling feeling remains as I leave my fieldsite. Should I have intercepted and problematized what X. had said? Do I have an obligation, as someone who has studied the topic at hand, to speak out for those victimized in the ordeal? What exactly is my position within the group? Is it worth abandoning my own moral stance and not “raise hell”, in order for things to play out as they would normally? It dawns on me then, that ethical dilemmas are prevalent in the process of ethnographic research. As (student-) ethnographers, we can only take action according to what seems the “most right” when an issue occurs, and the by-product of our choice – whether we like it or not – is something we simply have to live with.

Notes
1. The UK poll tax was levied on all British residents, whereas the Canadian head tax was only incurred on the Chinese.

References
Simmel, Georg. (1908/2010) “The Stranger.” In Scott Appelrouth and Laura Desfor Edles, Sociological Theory in the Classical Era (2nd edition). Thousand Oaks, CA: SAGE Pine Forge Press, pp. 302-305.

Sunstein, Bonnie Stone & Chiseri-Strater, Elizabeth. (2007) FieldWorking: Reading and Writing Research (4th edition). Boston, MA: Bedford/St. Martin’s.

Learning about financial literacy in the Families in Transition program

I recently attended a “Families in Transition” (FIT) workshop run by Frog Hollow Neighbourhood House (FHNH). This past week, a non-profit organization was invited to run a “financial literacy” workshop for the women in attendance.

FIT is a 36-week long pilot program for immigrant mothers that helps them integrate into “mainstream” Canadian society.  Among other things, participants develop language skills, learn about parenting in Canada, receive Foodsafe training, and develop job-searching skills. The FIT program illustrates Lauer’s argument that voluntary organizations (such as neighbourhood houses) help immigrants extend their social networks, which can help them incorporate into the community at large.

“L”, the program director for FHNH explained to us that one of the barriers of bringing mothers from certain cultural backgrounds to FIT is that many are used to staying inside the home and tending to their children all day.  L. said that separating the women from their children (who were being minded nearby) was challenging at first, but over the course of FIT, most had grown comfortable with being temporarily apart from their children.

At the beginning of the workshop, everyone went around in a circle introduced themselves. The mothers in the group had been living in Canada between four and ten years – an average about 6 – and all had young children under about five years of age.  Two of the mothers were also pregnant. The workshop covered topics such as saving money (or “keeping money” as the facilitator framed it), financial norms in Canada, and the predatory nature of both credit and “discounts” at stores.

One woman commented on how surprised she was at the ease of obtaining credit in Canada.  Another woman echoed this by sharing how she had 5 credit cards despite not being employed.  Most shared their concerns about their ability to save for their children’s education, and about finding a healthy balance between not spoiling their children and not being “bad” mothers for not buying them toys or treats.

Although these are concerns of all parents – not just immigrant parents – this concern had an extra layer to it, as finding this balance was influenced by their experiences in negotiating their identities as new mothers learning cultural norms of urban Canadian society.

An aspect of the workshop that surprised me was the gendered nature of the content.  The facilitator made several comments about women wanting to buy products such as purses, dresses, lotion, makeup, and about gender roles between men and women.  The facilitator also frequently used the term “husband” to describe the partners of all of the women.  I found this surprising, but I considered that my background in sociology has primed me to be more aware of how gender stereotypes present themselves.

Although the topic covered at last week’s FIT was not related to my final project (food and nutrition), I had fun listening and even sharing my own experiences and fears about money with the women in the group.

 

Sources:

1.         Lauer and Yan 2007, “Neighbourhood Houses and Social Ties,” pp. 5-34. http://site.ebrary.com/lib/ubc/docDetail.action?docID=10216306

2.         Image from http://www.creditcards.ca/credit-card-news/how-to-find-the-best-savings_accounts-1267.

“May I have some of those post-it notes and borrow your pen?” Experiences in immigrant Vancouver ethnographic fieldwork

Edsel Yu Chua 36172104

“The true picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image, which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and is never seen again”

–Walter Benjamin

Top of the morning, stick with it!

It was a sunny mid-spring day in Vancouver, British Columbia I woke up, did my usual morning routine, having coffee and a smoke contemplating on what my day would be like. I remember the day before there was a discussion in the Immigrant Vancouver Ethnographic Field School class about methods in researching our sites and last Thursday May 17, 2012 was the first-time I configured myself to be an anthropologist for this term. For my volunteer component of my field school, I volunteer in a neighborhood house that helps newcomers, immigrants and temporary foreign workers settle and integrate in multicultural (mind you, not to be confused with intercultural) Canada. The afternoon of my orientation with my supervisor she was discussing my responsibilities as a volunteer front-desk clerk I found myself overwhelmed with the information she was giving me; I was going in and out of focus while she was explaining and suddenly I saw the greatest material a social scientist can have at that point in time laying on the table, a small, bright yellow, and compact pile of post-it notes. “May I have some of those post-it notes and borrow your pen?” are the words that activated my role, reconfigured my senses and trajectory from being an ordinary front-desk volunteer to a social scientist interested in the culture, social organization, structural and systemic construction, social, historical, and political environment of my field-site.

I am, I Post It

Post-it notes function as mobile organizers of thoughts, they can be placed anywhere it sticks, fast, concise, no-nonsense, easy to post and easy to tear-off object where abstract thoughts become material reminders. “I am, I Post-it” serve as a metaphor for my placement this summer, fast, concise, no-nonsense, in and out where abstract thoughts gets materialized in the final project at the end of the term. I enter my field-site and construct my final project using methods such as participant observation, formal and informal interviewing, and a collaborative art-based component with the Filipno/a community in Vancouver with a goal of exploring the culture of balikbayan boxes (boxes filled with gifts and sent to the Philippines by loved-ones that live overseas). As a new volunteer I was given the responsibility to work the front desk of the neighborhood house.  I remember the conversation I had with my supervisor as she apologizes for giving me the role of a front-desk clerk, she says that working the front desk “does not fit my qualification”, but starting at the lowest position will give “give me the advantage of learning the ropes as I integrate and work my way to the top” (with my qualifications probably a project director). Personally I was relived that she gave me a mechanical job of sitting down, logging and transferring phone calls, and greeting guests, but the anthropologist in me noticed the underlying narrative of being “new” in a certain place. Being a new front-desk clerk places me in a liminal position of temporariness, and like post-it notes, I can easily be transferred from space to space and my permanence depends on how I stick with my responsibilities, how good I store information and accurate in passing it to others. After my shift I found myself contemplating my responsibility as a front-desk clerk, “I work the front-lines of this place and without me messages will not be received by the higher-ups, I shall do this job to the best of my ability in order for me to move-up in ranks” and I wonder, do other newcomers think and feel this way?

A First Step to a Better Life at Vancouver’s Neighborhood Houses

Canada has maintained a high level of immigration of around 250,000 people on average per year for two decades. While the large number of immigrants bring in expertise, investment and a workforce that contribute significantly to a sustainable Canadian economy, they also come with an aspiration for a safer and better life. Immigrants are also important actors in Canada’s evolving social fabric, in terms of ethnicity, culture and religion, and social practices.

The latest Census shows foreign-born residents account for 39.6% of the Vancouver metropolitan area’s total population, surpassing other major immigrant cities like Miami (36.5%), Los Angeles (34.7%) and Melbourne (28.9%), and second only to Toronto (45.7%) in North America and Australia. Half of Vancouverites do not speak English as their first language. Since immigrants account for a significant percentage of Vancouver’s neighborhoods, making it one of the most ethnically and linguistically diverse cities in the world, immigrant issues are likely to dominate most significant community issues.

Vancouver now has nine Neighborhood Houses that share, more or less, the same mission to provide settlement services and community development programs that help immigrants settle and integrate into their new neighborhoods. The idea of Neighborhood Houses was developed from settlement houses that served similar functions and became widespread in North America in the late 19th century (Sandercock 2009). Today, the role of Neighborhood Houses has gone beyond serving the immediate needs of newcomers only; they are also mandated to improve the quality of life of immigrants, empower them with social rights, and recognize the contributions of community members. The programs and services the organizations offer range from newcomer-oriented workshops (providing employment, civil services and skill trainings) to recreational activities for residents from all age groups and cultures, and to family support and youth programs, as well as to social functions like community gardens, dinners and festivals targeting all community members.

At the Little Mountain Neighborhood House, located on Vancouver’s Main Street, an ESL class for a group of Spanish-speaking immigrants (mainly from Mexico, Chile, Peru and Guatemala) takes place every Friday evening. In most cases, there are husband-wife, mother-children, adult-elder generation groupings, or even the entire families. Some of them live over an hour away from the neighborhood house, but still they show up every time. They come into the neighborhood house with hugs and leave it with smiles. For them, it’s not only an opportunity to improve their language abilities, more importantly the class serves as a reception space for clients, staff, and volunteers from different backgrounds to meet and greet, exchange cultures and lifestyles, share happiness and difficulties of their lives, and thus build a sense of belonging and community development.

ESL class, community festival & dinner. Source: Little Mountain Neighborhood House

As the first contact and source of support for many newcomers to Vancouver, the Neighborhood Houses also play an important role in communicating Canadian values to new members of this “big family”. Immigrants tend to fall into disadvantaged positions during the process of “uprooting” from abroad and “replanting” here. In this context, the Neighborhood Houses provide access to learning and practicing citizen rights and responsibilities, and nurturing both a cross-cultural environment and respect to individuals and their respective cultures and religions. Eventually, such values can carry on to the wider community and subsequent generations that are key to the prosperity of the “Canadian mosaic”.

Refuting ‘the God Trick’

Literal portrayal of my positionality during the adult immigrant pre-employment class

 

The realization that qualitative research produced within a subject/observer framework is inherently flawed has been a long time coming in academic circles. Yet we are still just now acknowledging the power of academic text, which often attributes motive and meaning to the actions observed, constructing an ‘event’ out of daily life, while inconspicuously failing to recognize the presence and influence of the viewer (Smith 1988). Scenes such as an adult immigrant pre-employment class are painted through the rose-colored glasses of the privileged viewer. The written work that this viewer then produces  is presented to readers as an objective perspective on ‘real’ life, when in fact such a depiction constitutes what Donna Haraway calls ‘the God trick’ —the act of appearing to see everything from nowhere in particular, which, of course, is physically impossible. Feminist sociologists now posit that the only way in which significant qualitative work can be produced is through active participation in the material social practices of everyday life—and a subsequent production of narratives of personal consciousness, which can then be compared to those belonging to others (Smith 1988).

In my time at Frog Hollow for example, while participating in a pre-employment program for Spanish mothers  which focused on financial literacy, I happened to sketch the table around which we were all seated, facing the instructor, Billy Sinclair. I have included this sketch below in Figure 1, adding a circled star to indicate where I was sitting. Encouraged by the instructor and the Frog Hollow facilitator, Lea Laberge,the other IVEFS students and I participated in the class by contributing our financial questions to the list posted on the wall. The act of adding questions to the wall, while all sitting around the same table, and sharing personal stories along with the women, symbolized participation in the active creation of the material and social environment of the class. The photo above (from my field notes) is simply a representation of my physical position, which I can use to remind myself that while I may have understood the class from a certain personal standpoint, others may have their own standpoints, stemming both from the seating arrangement and from their social status.

 

While personal narratives of everyday life are valuable, in order to produce knowledge some analysis must be done. Through my active participation in my field site I am able to then compare the notes that describe my personal experiences, thoughts, questions with others. Instead of objectifying the other participants, feminist methodology empowers its subjects by allowing them the agency to experience their own consciousness, unaffected by the researcher, which later can be analyzed to understand the larger power structures at work.

Although my experience participating in the group was probably tainted by having my notebook out instead of devoting the entirety of my attention to the class, in other ways I did my best not to allow my role to become that of a ‘researcher’ observing subjects in their ‘natural habitat, rather, I was, just as everyone there was, eager to learn about money management. I did however diligently record that which permeated my consciousness that morning—which now rests of the pages of my notebook as a series of jokes, interspersed with questions, financial advice, etc. all of which speak directly to my experiences that day, but can be used in the future to attempt produce a feminist sociology of adult immigration classes at Frog Hollow Neighborhood House.

Work Cited

 

Smith, Dorothy E. The Everyday World as Problematic: A Feminist Sociology. Boston:   Northeastern UP, 1988.

Welcome to the Immigrant Vancouver Ethnographic Field School 2012 Blog!

IVEFS Participants,

You will be using this blog to post reflections on your fieldwork experiences and your thoughts on the readings for the course. Each of your two blog assignments should be about 500 words and written in journalistic-style prose that are accessible for general readers. Remember to give your blog post a title and also to include an image or two – either a photo you have taken yourself, or an appropriate image you have found – to illustrate your blog post…

Lotus Flowers at UBC

You can also leave comments on the posts of your classmates and receive feedback on your own work. This can include constructive feedback regarding writing style, methods, use of specific readings, info about their sites or topics of fieldwork. Overall the blog should be a forum to share your thoughts about your field sites with each other and get a feel for the work that each other are doing.

Happy Posting!

IVEFS Team