Autoethnography & Reflective Practice – Page 11

Zoo, Park, and Nature

I am sitting on a quiet bench in the middle of the Central Park Zoo here on this beautiful April 12. The zoo and park are mobbed, perhaps because it is Easter, perhaps because it is the first nice day in recent memory, perhaps because many people are on vacation, or perhaps even due to countless other variables.

I just got my membership t-shirt and, not wanting to carry it as I am walking without a bag, decided to put it on under my Lancaster hoodie (the same one I bought while in the UK two weeks ago and which a number of my cohort colleagues thought of as a bit out of my age wearability; no matter, I like these sorts of clothes).

I normally bring my camera with me, though decided I wanted to walk unencumbered and to enjoy the afternoon. Now, I can experience nature and the zoo and people and such first-hand, without interpreting life through its photos. That I am blogging via my BlackBerry is beside the point (or not).

I just watched a robin hopping through one of the gardens looking for food, or perhaps enjoying the spring weather like many of us here today. The birds are chirping and singing for the change in season and happy weather. Even the flowers are so striking, expressing all their beauty in a great celebration of color and life. The sea lions are swimming in their pool, perhaps doing best what the flowers and birds are doing in their own ways.

And I? What more can I do but enjoy all this while trying to capture it to my blog for those moments that are more challenging and dark.

Planning for Not Planning to See in Ireland

I am in Ireland now for a few days of vacation with my friend from college, James. I have been here once before, though it was a number of years ago and was for a somewhat short period of time (as if the four full-days I am here now after my trip to Lancaster is a long period!).

Whatever the case, I have planned for this trip by doing something I have never done when traveling before—planned to not plan for everything.

Let me attempt to clarify.

I believe I am a first-class travel packer, and have packed only and everything that I need for my trip (there is nothing in my bag I have not used, and nothing I really needed that I should have brought). While this accounts for the physical items, I am focusing now upon the non-physical—the thoughts and experiences that come along with and attend to seeing something new with someone who I have seen a lot with over the past 20 years.

“What do I want to see while here,” I was asked. What is usually a question that demands an extra 10 hours to be added to the day was instead replaced by something much simpler and perhaps even more complicated, “I want to see the things about Ireland that make people say it is such a beautiful place.” If only this can be easily planned for!

I want to see nature, landscapes, colors, and sites that I have only been able to see without feeling online. Those sites that I can re-experience with my own photos, but which may be meaningless by seeing them in those of other people.

I don’t quite know what these things may be before I see them . . .

What do I want to see? Seeing is not quite the right word—I want to experience things that I cannot see online, on video, through pictures, the phone. I want to experience things that technology can not reproduce; only reminding me of later.

Ever see a picture or hear some music or have a conversation and get transported through time and space to that or some other experience or history or memory? Take a look at the photos I uploaded to Flickr and you will see the physical memory of yesterday. Looking at them again now, I remember the feel of the wind, my fear of the heights, the rich colors, the peaceful brooks, the memory of great movies and even greater expansion and promise that have washed across these hills over the millennia.

That is the best I can do to share what I did yesterday. Know the pictures (while clear and colorful, if I do say so) hold only a glimpse of how rich the experience really was, and they all took place because I did not create a checklist of things I wanted to see and do while here. Let’s see what happens.

That is what I wanted to see in Ireland.

Travel Reading, Take 1

I am planning some travel to the UK and Ireland in another week, and while that means I tend to buy new clothes and supplies for the trip, it also means I look forward to getting and bringing some new books with me.

What to read? Always an exciting question to consider.

Recently, a number of colleagues, especially Sarah Stewart, Britta Bohlinger, and Ailsa Haxell, have recommended various books (and have helped Amazon meet payroll this week, undoubtedly), and I have a lot to choose from among the daily boxes that are arriving (mostly in the area of autoethnography, reflective practice, critical theory, and techno-cultural analysis).

Normally, I bring about 4 books, usually heavy research or cultural analysis texts, and about 2 dozen magazines. This time, I am intentionally packing lightly (I live for carry-on), so will choose with great care.

Thus far, one novel:

I have another week to choose the other 2 (I decided 3 will be the max), so let’ see . . . . Suggestions?

What is Autoethnography?

Yesterday, I revisited the TwitterGroups webpage where I recently created the Autoethnography Twitter Group. While there, I noticed a new feature that was incomplete, namely the Description area. I thought this was as good a time as any to put in a description of not only the group, but of autoethnography itself.

I am often asked what the $%^& is autoethnography, anyway, so thought now is as good a time as any to define it. Given this qualitative methodology and my upcoming paper at the 5th International Congress of Qualitative Inquiry, here is my definition of autoethnography:

Autoethnography is a form of qualitative research where the researcher explores his or her own experience as a focus of investigation. It acknowledges the power of the researcher to explore his or her own life more closely than others are able, and it connects the personal story to the participatory cultures while engaging the reader to share in the vibrancy of the experience.

How does this feel and seem and sound and look to you?

The Worth of Humanities in a Postmodern World

I have been asked at times to explain my blog’s by-line:

Research and Practice in Postmodern Learning

and have found it as much as a challenge to do so as it is to define postmodernism itself (BTW, I do like Lyotard’s definition in The Postmodern Condition, “incredulity toward metanarratives”). I enjoy researching and living a life of education in ways that challenge the established worldviews.

Case in point, check out the article in yesterday’s NY Times, In Tough Times, the Humanities Must Justify Their Worth. The days of believing:

the critical thinking, civic and historical knowledge and ethical reasoning that the humanities develop have a different purpose: They are prerequisites for personal growth and participation in a free democracy, regardless of career choice

may be nearing an end, especially as these previously unassailable virtues are now being challenged (such as by the economy, which does not generally pay people for having these virtues). The idea that a humanities background may not be considered particularly valuable any more is a postmodern thought. We have always assumed that this value is beyond doubt (right up there with democracy is always the best form of government, free speech is good, and it is a bad idea to sell wine in supermarkets in New York).

Postmodernism as a philosophy of practice is both critical as well as constructivist (I wonder if any of my students are reading this?), and basically challenges established worldviews as frameworks of power imbalance and limited perspective. I like considering this, researching this, practicing this, and trying to introduce this in my teaching to help my students to see the complexities in the teaching and learning process that are often under the surface of clearly articulated objectives, assessment plans, and nodding heads.

BTW, I also believe it is easier to challenge and knock the humanities after having completed two graduate degrees in the humanities and knowing enough about them to know I really know very little. I suppose this is a little postmodern, too . . .