Participant-Observation
I just noticed that the "Freestyle Sessions" board features pics from King Uprock’s Dollar Jam last Saturday, several of which feature me looking goofy in the background. This reminded me of two things [if you know me, you know that that is pretty much my motto]:
1. I need to figure out how to put links in the text of my blog posts. As you can see, I have accomplished that; and
2. In my opinion, there’s a real problem with what might charitably be called a "lack of self-awareness" among people who claim to be hip-hop scholars. I humbly suggest that ethnography/participant-observation can be a valuable tool in combatting that. Because, although it may not be apparent from the pics, in addition to hanging out and getting down in the cypher, I was also doing research for my current project, Foundation: B-Boys, B-Girls, and Communities of Style (I’m telling you, I’m nice with the titles, man – it’s all about the rhythm).
It’s really not possible to not be self-aware when you’re doing ethnography, because your relationship to the community is the foundation of your research, and people will say something to you if they feel misrepresented. So why don’t more people do ethnography when they are writing about an art form that emerged from (or is centered within) a community that they are not part of? Like, if you’re interested enough in people to write a book about them, why wouldn’t you want to hang out with them? It’s not a rhetorical question. Why not?
One answer is that many academics who write about hip-hop come from lit crit disciplines that were created to analyze expressive arts as abstractions of social/economic circumstances, so their subjects' sense of their own role is more a part of the problem than a part of the solution. Although I think this is kind of true in some cases, simply ignoring people’s own intentions does not strike me as a productive approach to the issue. Because then all you’re really doing is substituting your own point of view for theirs, which is frankly kind of arrogant.
I turn to my esteemed colleague Dr. John Creaux on this point:
You may find me in a project slum,
Be hangin’ out with all the skid row bums
I may be sick and I may seem dumb-
That don’t mean you know where I’m comin’ from.
("Qualified", from the dope ass album In The Right Place)
Another answer is that your objectivity is compromised, which is certainly true. But, when you’re talking about cultural practices, the choice is not between subjectivity and objectivity, the choice is between subjectivity and ignorance.
The issue came up recently when I was talking to Jah (not God – the other Jah), and the question - I think wisely – was turned around: so what kind of person *does* choose subjectivity over ignorance? If you think about it, the question kind of answers itself.
One of the things that makes participant-observation uncomfortable for anyone that tries it is that – by definition – you are unfamiliar with the cultural expectations of the situation you are in. In other words, you feel like an idiot. People who are resistant to feeling that way tend to either not put themselves in that situation in the first place, or force their own interpretation on the social world around them, both of which make for bad scholarship.
But to be a good ethnographer, you have to being willing to feel like an idiot - and college professors are not known for having this quality. I would – and have - argued that my greatest strength as a scholar is that I don’t care if people think I’m stupid. Why? Because that’s how you learn stuff. When I give my card to people in the hip-hop community, they inevitably get this look in their eyes like, "Really? You have a Ph.D.? Are you sure?" Why? Because I don’t go around trying to prove I’m smart! I ask questions. I listen to people. I learn about the culture. I get clowned. I learn about the culture. I get physically pushed into a b-boy cypher (as I did Saturday by Tiny Love – thanks, Tiny!). I learn about the culture. It’s called research. Y’all should try it some time.
1. I need to figure out how to put links in the text of my blog posts. As you can see, I have accomplished that; and
2. In my opinion, there’s a real problem with what might charitably be called a "lack of self-awareness" among people who claim to be hip-hop scholars. I humbly suggest that ethnography/participant-observation can be a valuable tool in combatting that. Because, although it may not be apparent from the pics, in addition to hanging out and getting down in the cypher, I was also doing research for my current project, Foundation: B-Boys, B-Girls, and Communities of Style (I’m telling you, I’m nice with the titles, man – it’s all about the rhythm).
It’s really not possible to not be self-aware when you’re doing ethnography, because your relationship to the community is the foundation of your research, and people will say something to you if they feel misrepresented. So why don’t more people do ethnography when they are writing about an art form that emerged from (or is centered within) a community that they are not part of? Like, if you’re interested enough in people to write a book about them, why wouldn’t you want to hang out with them? It’s not a rhetorical question. Why not?
One answer is that many academics who write about hip-hop come from lit crit disciplines that were created to analyze expressive arts as abstractions of social/economic circumstances, so their subjects' sense of their own role is more a part of the problem than a part of the solution. Although I think this is kind of true in some cases, simply ignoring people’s own intentions does not strike me as a productive approach to the issue. Because then all you’re really doing is substituting your own point of view for theirs, which is frankly kind of arrogant.
I turn to my esteemed colleague Dr. John Creaux on this point:
You may find me in a project slum,
Be hangin’ out with all the skid row bums
I may be sick and I may seem dumb-
That don’t mean you know where I’m comin’ from.
("Qualified", from the dope ass album In The Right Place)
Another answer is that your objectivity is compromised, which is certainly true. But, when you’re talking about cultural practices, the choice is not between subjectivity and objectivity, the choice is between subjectivity and ignorance.
The issue came up recently when I was talking to Jah (not God – the other Jah), and the question - I think wisely – was turned around: so what kind of person *does* choose subjectivity over ignorance? If you think about it, the question kind of answers itself.
One of the things that makes participant-observation uncomfortable for anyone that tries it is that – by definition – you are unfamiliar with the cultural expectations of the situation you are in. In other words, you feel like an idiot. People who are resistant to feeling that way tend to either not put themselves in that situation in the first place, or force their own interpretation on the social world around them, both of which make for bad scholarship.
But to be a good ethnographer, you have to being willing to feel like an idiot - and college professors are not known for having this quality. I would – and have - argued that my greatest strength as a scholar is that I don’t care if people think I’m stupid. Why? Because that’s how you learn stuff. When I give my card to people in the hip-hop community, they inevitably get this look in their eyes like, "Really? You have a Ph.D.? Are you sure?" Why? Because I don’t go around trying to prove I’m smart! I ask questions. I listen to people. I learn about the culture. I get clowned. I learn about the culture. I get physically pushed into a b-boy cypher (as I did Saturday by Tiny Love – thanks, Tiny!). I learn about the culture. It’s called research. Y’all should try it some time.

3 Comments:
"I would – and have - argued that my greatest strength as a scholar is that I don’t care if people think I’m stupid. Why? Because that’s how you learn stuff."
First, hot title for the second book. Second, great post. Third, thanks the above excerpt are words to live scholarship AND life by. I'll try to remember this.
One question: But what if in fact some scholars are not interested in learning stuff?
I'm seen my fair share of it. It's like why become a professor if you are not interested in teaching/learning?
Hey, I love this post here because it hits directly at my research within Southern Cal. public schools and remedial education. I find it a MUST in my research to go into both the high schools/colleges with high remedial numbers and those schools with low remedial numbers in order to speak with students, educators, and observe what exactly is going on in those individual school environments. Do I necessarily know enough not to feel like an idiot when I'm conducting my observations? Of course you feel awkward, but that's the whole point, and the end result (hopefully) is a strengthened understanding of what is occurring within the "real world". In other words, I agree what you wrote about.
Shouts out to O-Dub for mentioning you in his blog. Good stuff.
Luis Ramirez
Grad Student in Chicano Studies
Cal State LA
Great points Joe. I think the emic/etic distinction is related to your comment here. Given the propensity for scholars of all kinds to do etic work only, it makes sense to argue forcefully for the other. But in my view, both are necessary, and neither is sufficient. "Pure" emic description lacks synthesis and interpretation. Pure etic analysis lacks "other awareness". The key for me is to blend the approaches so we have ethnographic field work synthesized and represented in categories that make it inteligible to academic "outsiders" while being true to the "insider" perspective. That is why your book is so damn goood!!! ps. nice freeze.
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