PROPUESTA DE UNA ECOLOGÍA DEL “EDUTAINMENT”: EL MOBILE_EVA

Over the last few decades, oral history methodology has undergone a conceptual shift, concomitant with a wider trend in the social sciences, which acknowledges the interviewer‘s

81 _{Portelli, The Battle of Valle Guilia,12.} 82 _{Ritchie, Doing Oral History.}

83 _{Michael Frisch, A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History (Albany:}

State University of New York, 1990), xx–xi.

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contributions to, and influence on, their research. Interviewers are encouraged to consider their assumptions, motives, and role in shaping the interview so they can be aware of the subjective aspects of their research. Valerie Yow, a leading author on this theme of interpersonal relations in oral history, encourages interviewers to be aware of the power relationship in an interview, affected by age, class, status, ethnicity, gender, and knowledge.85 An example of this approach is found in Arthur A. Hansen‘s article on his interviews with Nikkei, Americans of Japanese ancestry, where he reflects on the necessity of being sensitive to the influence of stereotypes on the interviewer-narrator relationship.86 Most oral historians think of the interview as a collaborative process, negotiated between the narrator and

interviewer.87 Alessandro Portelli in his book, The Battle of Valle Guila: Oral History and the Art of Dialogue, makes several important suggestions on the narrator-interviewer

relationship. He points out narrators bring their own agenda to the interview: by listening to ‗irrelevant personal matters‘ the interviewer learns much about the narrator. Portelli also encourages the interviewer to open up to the narrator: ‗one cannot expect informants to tell the truth about themselves if we start out by deceiving them about ourselves‘.88 Although, as Portelli points out, too much self reflexivity can be a hindrance, I will now briefly reflect on the relationships between myself and the various narrators I worked alongside.89

Generalising across all 35 interviews is difficult because each one had its own context and relationship dynamic. I am a Pākehā New Zealand female in my mid twenties. Many narrators (all except one were older than me) commented on how much younger I looked than they expected. Some participants, especially the men, showed a sense of protectiveness. They dropped me home after the interview as they felt it was unsafe for me to make my own way back. My youth went some way towards shifting the power balance in the narrators‘ favour; although I was the one with the questions, they had the advantage of life experience. Because I was a New Zealander, this gave me a kind of kinship with the narrators, who were all New Zealanders. Australian-based narrators often asked me questions about New Zealand

85 _{Valerie Yow, ―‗Do I Like Them Too Much?‘ Effects of Oral History Interveiw on the Interviewer and Vice-}

Versa,‖ in The Oral History Reader, ed. Robert Perks and Alistair Thomson (New York: Routledge, 2006), 55, 63; Yow, Recording Oral History, 157.

86

Arthur A. Hansen, ―A Riot of Voices: Racial and Ethnic Variables in Interactive Oral History Interviewing,‖

in Interactive Oral History Interviewing, ed. Eva M. McMahon and Kim Lacy Rogers (Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence

Erlbaum, 1994), 136.

87 _{An early example of this approach can be found in Frisch, A Shared Authority.} 88 _{Portelli, The Battle of Valle Guilia.}

89

Portelli rightly cautions that too much self reflexivity can erase the narrator from discourse and signal the weakness between our intellectual endeavour and the outside world. Ibid., xiv.

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current affairs or established a connection based on shared experiences. I interviewed quite a few Māori narrators, and although I was unaware of any difficulty in these interviews I am sure there were instances where our different cultural heritage influenced the interview. I sometimes felt as if Māori narrators were unsure of my ability to understand references to their spirituality and culture. Some Māori narrators were fluent in Te Reo and I am not: this probably limited these narrators‘ expressiveness. It would be naïve of me to ignore gender dynamics. With women I was unaware of any tension. But I was childless, and at the time of the interviews unmarried, whereas most of the female narrators had life partners and families. Perhaps women would have talked about their relationships more explicitly if I had shared these life experiences. With male interviewees I was more aware of a gender dynamic. Men often apologised for swearing and several of the older men made comments to the tune of a ‗pretty young thing like you.‘ I have no doubt that those with rough and ready tales talked less candidly about their experiences than they would have done with a male interviewer. At the same time, I was surprised at the number of men willing to be honest about their emotions with me. I must admit I usually had the closest rapport with university educated narrators because they generally were more similar to me, did jobs I found more interesting, and showed a strong interest in my thesis.

My relationship with narrators was also influenced by our interaction before and during interviews. Often people picked me up from the nearest train station and we would chat for some time before starting the interview. Although in the recorded interview the focus stayed on the narrator, before and after many asked me personal questions. What did I want to do when I finished the PhD? What did I think of Australia? Would I ever move to Australia? Particularly when narrators had shared personal emotional stories I felt a need to reciprocate their honesty. Often I would end up sharing defining aspects of my personal story: the death of my mother from cancer, my close relationship with my two sisters, that I had a boyfriend, my study of history, and future plans. This reciprocity encouraged narrators to open up about their own more private experiences and provided a sense of connection. After interviews narrators often invited me to stay for a meal or hot drink.