Ethnographic study - part II

Language and Behaviors

Wow! My ethnographic study continues to be fascinating, with the past week being particularly enlightening. It has taken a while for the Unemployeds to let their guards down around me, but I feel like I am finally earning their trust and respect.

I believe that I am beginning to really understand the Unemployeds’ behaviors and daily routines. There are so many interactions that appear to be what I am used to, but actually take on vastly different meanings than in the Employeds community. This has been especially true linguistically. While their vocabulary and sentence structures are familiar, the meanings are often different, if not the complete opposite from what I would expect! It is quite remarkable to see the variations within the same language.

Even more than before, I think that if we can just gain a better understanding of their use of language, then we can surely avoid so many of the miscommunications of the past that threaten to catapult us into violent, drunken, unattractive unrest. I will now try to shed light onto some of the key phrases used by Unemployeds that are often misunderstood by Employeds.

“I’m between jobs”

My initial assumption with this phrase would be that the person is a consultant of sorts; that he or she had one position, is taking a week off, and has another position lined up that will begin shortly.

However, the implied meaning among Unemployeds is actually quite different. The latter job, does not exist at all. In fact, the person making the statement usually has no prospects of employment whatsoever. Absolutely nothing. No possible leads, potential jobs, or even hopes for the future. Yes, they have completed one position; but they are not “between” jobs in our understanding of the preposition. Rather they are “after” a job or “post”-job. Interesting!

“I’ve been networking”

This very commonly used phrase is intriguing as well. Typically, I have assumed networking to be a process of building relationships with others that have the potential to be mutually beneficial for both parties. Networking in that context is most often conducted in person, over a lunchtime appointment, a meeting in one’s office, or sometimes with casual drinks. Regardless of the location, in all situations, there is a back and forth exchange of words between individuals and a collaborative relationship-building process.

However--now this is really fascinating!--the Unemployeds’ use of the word “networking” is actually most comparable to the Employeds’ use of the words “reading,” “stalking,” or “pathetically short-circuiting one’s computer through tears.” Networking among Unemployeds is typically done in private, at home, on facebook, peering through other people’s photos, and includes contemplating what life could have been.

Can you imagine the escalations that may have resulted over such a simple linguistic misunderstanding?! No wonder the tensions!

“I’m staying positive”

This phrase is also a very peculiar one. I have normally assumed “staying positive” to refer to a person’s involvement in altruistic activities, or having a generally cheery outlook on life.

Among Unemployeds, however, “staying positive” is most commonly used to signify the meeting of basic hygienic needs; for example, brushing one’s teeth on most days, showering at least as often as many French people, and feeding oneself.

“I’ve been working on my writing”

This phrase is usually uttered in response to the question, “what have you been up to?” or a similar derivation of that inquiry.

The response is fascinating though, because it actually has nothing whatsoever to do with writing or creativity. Rather, “working on writing” among Unemployeds most likely means going to coffee shops in order to gain a sense of human contact, to find comfort in seeing other people who have nothing to do on a Tuesday at 2pm, and to be in a safe space where loitering aimlessly is generally accepted.

Can you believe that all this time, I thought those folks were artists and writers?!

“Keeping busy”

This phrase has been one of the most interesting lessons for me! Among Employeds, when one says that he or she is “keeping busy,” the activities that we assume to be included are things like:

• Working late at the office
• Visiting relatives
• Hosting in-laws
• Going out for dinner and drinks
• Attending a film release party or a gallery opening.

However, among Unemployeds, the experiences are remarkably different, and in some cases, even the opposite of what one would consider “busy” within the Employeds community. What goes for “busy” among Unemployeds would more likely fall into a category of “idleness” or “sad, lonely, pathetic, and unfit to see the light of day and commune with the rest of society” among Employeds. So curious! For example, typical behaviors implied by the phrase “keeping busy” by Unemployeds might include:

• Crying
• Binge eating
• Binge drinking
• Lying in bed
• Lying in bed, crying, drinking, and eating
• Wearing a bathing suit and sitting on the couch with the fan on eating ice cream
• Being nauseous
• Feeling remorse
• Putting on pants, checking the mailbox, finding a bill, shaking one’s fist at the mailbox, placing the bill back in the mailbox, shutting the mailbox door
• Feeling regret
• Noticing the beastly state of one’s eyebrows
• Repeating mailbox process
• Crying
• Trying to remember the last time one showered, narrowing it down to one of three days. basking in life’s small successes.
• Smelling the milk in one’s refrigerator to gauge the degree of sickness it might cause upon ingestion
• Praying for a stalker so as to feel vaguely desirable/ of value/ possibly the future victim of a bloody gruesome murder that will attract media attention
• Pondering going to the superm--sitting back down on the couch
• Peanut butter.

The variations of language meanings that I’ve just mentioned are only a selection of the range that exists. These linguistic differences are much greater than I imagined, to the point where we may actually be looking at distinct dialects in the English language!

I hope that you have found these clarifications useful, and I look forward to sharing more of my research with you soon.

Ethnographic study - part I

I wanted to share a side-hobby of mine with you. I haven’t discussed it much because I didn’t want to intimidate all of you who may already be slightly overwhelmed by my many successes, skills, and innate talents. Also, it’s totally not a big deal. It’s just that I feel I’ve made some important progress in this one project and the implications are pretty substantial to the good people of America. So I do feel it an ethical obligation to share with you all.

Over the past few years, I have managed to become a pretty prominent and highly respected ethnographer in my spare time. I know, I know, spare time?! I just don’t sleep a lot naturally, and I figured I was already such an adept cross-cultural communicator, thoughtful in my observations, nuanced in my thinking, etc., etc., that taking the next step to conducting full on, methodological, social science-based ethnographies just seemed natural. Anyhoo, it’s really no big deal, but if for whatever crazy reason, you are more interested in what that means, you can check out the Union of American Ethnographers website where I was recently profiled because of their annual award I won.

Blah blah blah, what’s really important though is the study that I’ve been conducting to examine one of the most glaring, potentially dangerous, and taboo conflicts that’s brewing right under our noses. Obviously, what I’m referring to are the historic tensions between the Employeds and Unemployeds. Now obviously, these tensions have had cycles of hot and cold periods of conflict over time. But it’s gotten pretty frightening in recent years, and if tensions continue to escalate as they are, I’m afraid we may be looking at full on violent conflict between the two groups. Some restaurants have gone so far as to push back happy hours to begin only after 5:00pm in an effort to subtly--and purportedly legally--prevent the Unemployeds from going to their bars during the day, sitting there, drinking, and looking sad and ugly. Clearly, policies and trends like this are egregious and discriminatory.

I felt like we were reaching a critical juncture of pressure between these two populations, and that we really needed to understand this historical divide and its effects if we ever wanted to address it and deal with it non-violently. So, for the past few months, in an effort to understand the Unemployeds, I’ve engaged in an ethnographic study of them. Like any good student of Geertz, Evans-Pritchard, and Whyte, I’ve tried to incorporate myself into their communities, to take on their habits, and to blend into their environment as much as possible in order to observe and understand their culture.

For the past three months, I have only worn clothes that are either out of style or purchased off of the sale racks at Urban Outfitters. I’ve spent time in hipster coffee shops pretending to be a struggling “writer.” I’ve even spent numerous full days holed up in my apartment, filled with hours of crying interspersed with Dr. Phil episodes, so as to get a better grip on the true psyche of the Unemployeds. It’s been grueling and quite the sacrifice, but I do feel like I’m finally making some headway in my study.

Based on my observational research, I am in the process of drafting a guide to their culture, habits, and languages. I hope this study will help break down the many negative stereotypes that exist between these two populations. We all know these stereotypes far too well: People think Employeds are responsible, punctual, reliable, and typically busy between 9am and 5pm on weekdays. Many assume they have a steady source of income, are often insured, and dine out regularly. Unemployeds are assumed to be poor, often idle between 9am and 5pm on weekdays, needy wastes of space, completely lacking in any useful skills, embarrassments to society, heavy drinkers, and brooding artists. Clearly many of these are unfair stereotypes that need to be disproved once and for all.

The study that I will present to you will, I hope, help us along the path of better understanding both populations entrenched in this dangerous rivalry. I will review the different behaviors, socializations, habits, and languages. As our understanding improves, we’ll grapple with recommendations to prevent the shunning of Unemployeds and their peaceful reintegration into society.

I hope you’ll check back in as I present my findings from this very timely and important research.

Homeward bound

The following dialogue took place during a recent trip home to visit my parents:

Parents:

What do you want to drink? Do you want orange juice, apple juice, juicy juice, root beer? Should I put onions in the squash? Did you get your IRA account figured out? Are you going to deposit that check? Because I noticed that it hadn’t cleared yet. Do you want to drive by the bank on your way out? What happened with your friend Beth’s job? Where is she doing to work? How much will that pay? Is it a permanent position? Does she know anyone there? Does she own a car or will she have to buy one? Do you want a small glass or a big one? Did you feed Cinnamon recently? He threw up earlier but it was just a hairball. Did you follow up on your health insurance? Didn’t you have a bathing suit you ordered and needed to return? Do you want us to do that for you? Do you need any tuna fish or soda or juice to take back to the apartment? Or toilet paper or paper towels? I got a toothbrush at the dentist’s office last week but I don’t need it. Are you trying to kill me with those onions? Do you want another vegetable in addition to the salad and squash? Did you ever talk to Katherine about her organization? How is your knee? Are you still taking the Naproxen? Do you want some pita bread to take home? I just bought some but put it in the freezer. You also got some mail from the board of elections and something from your credit card company. I think it’s just an advertisement thing, but you may want to check it. Do you want me to open it for you and take a look? Did you get a referral yet for that dermatologist? Is the remote control for your tv still working or did it conk out again? Do you think you’ll come back here later this week or next week to do the crocheting with grandma? Have you heard of the organization Caring Hearts? Or Living Hearts? Or Reading Hearts? I think they do something with literacy and low income kids. One of my friends’ daughter works for them and she said they don’t have any openings but that they’re based in New York. Do you want me to put you in contact with her? Did you eat that chicken from last time you were here? Did it make your stomach feel funny at all?

Leah:

Yes.

United Nations Days

These are all real, very useful, UN-sanctioned World Days:

Most Geographically Inclusive Days

• World Maritime Day
• World Meteorological Day
• World Environment Day
• World Population Day
• World Habitat Day
• World Space Week (All right, space is pretty big. I’d give it a week too.)

Highest Concept Days

• International Day of Peace
• World Day of Social Justice
• World Freedom Day
• Human Rights Day

Laziest Days

• World Television Day (ie Dr. Phil, Law and Order, Wendy Williams show... the UN is a neutral body)
• World Mental Health Day (aka Spa Day)
• World Information Society Day (formerly World Telecommunication Day)

Overly Specific Days/Likely Created by Lobbyists

• World Diabetes Day (Insulin Manufacturers)
• International Day of Cooperatives (Latin America)
• International Day for the Preservation of the Ozone Layer (Dr. Rowland)
• World Post Day (Postal Workers PAC)
• International Civil Aviation Day (Stewardesses Union)

Most Contradictory World Days

• World Water Day vs. World Day to Combat Desertification and Drought
• World Book and Copyright Day vs. World Press Freedom Day
• International Day of United Nations Peacekeepers vs. International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women
• International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking vs. International Volunteer Day for Economic and Social Development

Awful Grammar Days

• World No-Tobacco Day
• World Teacher's Day
• International Day for the Eradication of Proverty

Most Overly Enthusiastic Days

• International Day for Natural Disaster Reduction (Stopping earthquakes before they happen.)
• International Day for the Eradication of Poverty (Guys, I really think we’re close this time. Just one more day.)
• United Nations Day for Women's Rights and International Peace (Women’s rights will only take us half a day. Let’s tack on something easy for the afternoon.)
• International Day of Tolerance (All right, I won’t kill you.... for now.)

Proposed World Days

• International Unemployed People Day
• World Ugly People Day
• World Alcohol Day
• World China Day

Making peace

Like any cultured American, I have spent time overseas. In 2007, I lived in a quaint town in northern Thailand, on the non-touristy, local student side. I lived like a real Thai. I rented a small house in the forest suburbs of the city, sandwiched between a nature reserve and a sprawling Buddhist temple, with Thai neighbors with a yappy, insomniac, heavy-breathing dog that would walk back and forth outside my window next to my bed in the early hours of the morning, back and forth, back and forth, breathing in and out, in and out. It looked as though I would have the good life in Thailand. Or so I thought.... I quickly learned that as picturesque as Thailand was from afar, it was a wholly different story close up.

Life was different there. New challenges met me every day; I had to buy my own potable water, learn to drive a motorbike, avoid getting caught in monsoon downpours on my 40 minute commute home, and try to look cool in a rain poncho. Life was more difficult than I had anticipated. But the biggest, most frightening, hair-raising challenge of all ended up being right under my nose. My new forest home appeared to be infested with approximately 14 BILLION ANTS. They streamed across the bathroom walls, marched through the kitchen, blocked pathways to toilets and sinks, taunted me above my bed at night threatening to shower down on me should a gust of wind pass through my room.

Two questions wracked my brain: 1. What were the owners of this house thinking?! and 2. How do I immediately rid my house of each and every one of these ants? I was not saying they had to die, I just didn’t want to live with them. It was nothing personal. We are just two different species; I live inside and they live outside. It’s only civilized.

I would be living in that house for three months, and during those three months, I vowed to make it my duty, my purpose, my sole obligation to defeat those ants. After all, how difficult could it be?! Clearly the Thai homeowners had just not tried to do this before. Maybe the owners were lazy and unmotivated. Maybe they didn’t know how disgusting their lives had been since they had never known anything else. You can’t blame them for ignorance. But it was a good thing I was there, because I could show them how ant extermination was done. Easy as fucking apple pie with an American flag and a walk on the moon on top. When they got back to their home, they’d think, “wow this is so pleasant! I didn’t notice before, but how could we ever have lived like that?! This is so much better. We’ll never ever go back to our old, filthy ways. Khap khun kha!”

Now I am nothing if not a respectful visitor in other people’s homes. So, out of the utmost deference for Thai culture, I first looked for an environmentally-friendly way to shoo these animals outside. However, I quickly learned that if Thais wanted Americans to adapt to their ways, they would have created more products with English writing on them. But since they had not, I instead purchased a small green box, whose diagrams made it look like ants would crawl through the party machine, eat the poison inside of it, go outside the house, bring the poison to their friends, and DIE OUTSIDE. Victory was mine. I could feel it coming. I would show these animals who was boss, and those who weren’t killed would see the example made by their slain relatives and get the hell out of my house.

It was so easy. Such a flawless plan.

ATTEMPT #1

The following morning, I placed the green box of glory right in one of the long columns of ants. They began walking around it.... nooo! no no no! I readjusted the box and encouraged them inside. Heeere, anty anty anty, look at that deliciousness inside of the secret box. Mmmmm yum yum yum. Just crawl through the box, eat some snacks, and then you can go on your way. Consider this my thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood with so many open arms. Just like the native Americans did with the Europeans.

Step one: complete. I hopped on my motorbike and drove off to work. You kids have a good day, and I’ll see you laaaaterr.... On my drive to work, I thought about my approaching success. Soon there would be no ants in my bathroom. It would be so clean, so empty after they all fled outside to die in nature. No one watching me while I peed. I could wash my face without contact lenses in and not fear getting a fistful of insects when turning on the faucet. No one glaring over me while I slept. No one attacking any food I left out for more than 15 seconds. The possibilities seemed endless.

Later that evening, I was giddy with excitement to return home. But what was waiting for me was so much worse than anything I could have ever imagined. There was a massacre of ants inside my bathroom. It was like the Srebrenica of northern Thailand. The sink was full of them, the walls and floors and ceiling were coated with them, they were in the shower, the toilet, the corners, the crevices between shampoo bottles, inside my soap dish, under the toilet seat. There were carcasses of dead ants everywhere. Where did I go wrong?! My perfect plan had backfired!!

The ants were supposed to go OUTSIDE, to THEIR HOME to DIE. Why did they die inside??!! And that’s when I realized: this was their home. My home was their home just as much as outside the thin, holey walls. It was ALL THEIR HOME. We were housemates. What was I thinking, they’d go back to their home and die?!

Tears streaming down my face, I shoved ants down the shower drain, which coincidentally led directly outside into my backyard through a 7 inch tube. I flushed them down the toilet. I threw piles of ants in the garbage. Why was life so difficult?! I vowed to those ants still alive: you haven’t seen the last of me....

ATTEMPT #2

I knew what I had to do. My next approach would be to outsmart the ants, obviously. If they thought my house was their home, I would trick them into thinking the outside was their home. Then, they would go outside to die. I put the small green box outside the house. I prayed for a clean, swift, mass murder.

I finished a long day at work and again, drove home on my motorbike. And again, I was met by yet another, deadly massacre, entirely inside my bathroom.

ATTEMPT #3

I WILL NOT BE BROKEN. YOU WILL NOT BEAT ME, THAILAND.

I bought Raid, written in goddamn stars and stripes American English. I had had it with the “natural world” bullshit. I paid rent and that was MY space. If those ants thought the bathroom was their home, then fine, they could have home court advantage. But I would prevail.

I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed until I nearly asphyxiated myself. I slammed the bathroom door closed, coughing and gasping for air, and crawled my way to the front door. I drove away on my motorbike, wary of what I’d come home to find...

ADMIT DEFEAT/ REACH ENLIGHTENMENT

More dead ants. Thousands of dead ants. They were everywhere. When would it end?! There seemed to be an endless supply of ants. My house must be some sort of ant community center for the region. A VFW maybe? All of the ants in the neighborhood must live in my house or at least pass through in typical day. It was hopeless.

And maybe--just maybe--it wasn’t even the ants who had to change, but me who had to change. After three days of deadly battle, near asphyxiation, and many tears shed, I finally realized that there was no such thing as “indoors,” as “my space” or “your space.” I resigned myself to having roommates that summer. The ants still streamed across my bedroom walls at night. I learned to take pleasure in watching slugs and lizards mate in my sink and on my window screens. I chatted with the foot long gecko who occasionally hung out on the wall, under the Buddhist altar. I realized that I couldn’t win the battle and I certainly couldn’t win the war. Besides, what would higher walls or non-porous borders do at the end of the day, anyway? Was there a reason we couldn’t all live together? Were we really that different?

WORLD PEACE

PCP

To my new primary care physician,

Thank you for creating such a welcoming environment in your office.

Never before have I been to a doctor’s office where it felt just like I was at a friend’s apartment or that crazy history professor’s office with piles of paper on every surface, overflowing file cabinets, and a desktop computer that looks like it’s from 1997 and hasn’t been turned on since 2003. I can’t stand all of those other doctors’ offices that are so overly-neat and sterile-feeling. I barely even see any medical equipment at yours. And I appreciate that, because--let’s be honest--test tubes, bandages, and needles do not make me feel comfortable. And when you’re sick, don’t you just want to feel comfortable?!

Speaking of uncomfortable, I absolutely hate lying on a big sheet of butchers paper to get my breasts examined. It makes me feel like such a piece of meat. Gross. But with you, there was none of that! No butchers paper on the examining table, no plastic gloves; you didn’t even wash your potato-chip crumb covered hands. You totally know what’s important and what not to fret over! I love it!

And it was just too cute how your secretary called me “Ms. New Patient” during the two hours while I was waiting for my appointment. And how she threatened to kick my non-injured knee to make the injured one feel better?! Hilarious!! It’s that type of camaraderie that makes the time fly by. Well, that and being able to listen in on all of your appointments because of the open doors, and hearing diagnoses and prescriptions being yelled out. Oh and you really gave it to that Dr. Nelson on the phone!!!! What a lazy bastard!! Finally, a doctor’s office where I feel like we’re all in it together--secretary, doctor, and 7 other patients in one hallway-shaped office.

I also think it’s totally awesome how you relate to your patients by being hip and using curse words when we talk. Like when you recommended that dermatologist to me because he would “just slice it right off” because “that’s the kind of doctor he is;” because “even though he said it was benign, it was fucking freaking you out, so he just did it.” I feel like you really get me! I also love a doctor who will just do what I say and is a little scalpel happy. I’m paying for it, so I should get to call the shots, right?!

And I love what you’ve done to your office. I’ve never seen such efficient use of space. I mean, why not file patients’ folders in the same room with the the toilet, refrigerator, and sink? And so what if said file cabinets have no doors, and the toilet water may happen to spray upward to an alarming height? Kudos to you for saying f you to convention!

I think it’s totally rad how old school you are with all of your paper files in manila folders with people’s full names written on them in permanent black marker on the sides. You know, our over-protective, HIPAA-ridden, paranoid society is what’s ruining patient-doctor relationships. Remember when we could just trust one another? When we were all like family?

Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks, doc, for restoring my faith in our healthcare system. Finally, I feel like there’s someone out there who gets it.

Sincerely,

Samantha Richardson (aka Ms. New Patient)

My future self

Dear Future self,

I see you on the subway sometimes. You’re around 55, you have long, frizzy hair, clipped up in some unique style. You’re often wearing what I imagine is probably a very comfortable skirt and your cell phone is several years older than everyone else’s in the car. But it still works, and that’s what matters, eh?

You carry multiple tote bags, emblazoned with non-profit organizations, political statements, conferences, and banks that were having free give-aways. Your jewelry implies that you’ve travelled. And I can tell by the orange cat hair on your black coat that you have a cat at home. My guess is you have more than one. But only because the first little guy was lonely and needed a buddy! And then the second one turned out to be pretty anti-social, so you know how it goes. Kids!

Oh no no, not real children. Of course not. Cats are responsibility enough, thank you very much. Scan down to your left hand ring finger and yes, it is naked. (Of course I noted that first, but I thought it might be uncouth to mention it earlier.) But really now, marriage isn’t everything. How could a partnership with someone else possibly define who you are? And regardless, look at that bangle! I bet it’s from India... or possibly Bangladesh? Bangalore? Bhutan? One of those, most likely. Note to Current self: I really do need to learn more about South Asia.

What is that you’re saying, Future self? Something about the new subway maps and the MTA getting rid of the W train? I know, I can’t believe it either! Nor can everyone else in the car, who I’ll assume you’re addressing, because it’s unclear with whom, more specifically, you’re being such a chatty cathy. And that sweet-looking hispanic man in front of you certainly seems more engrossed in his ipod than in engaging in witty banter with you, Future self. That’s all right though; we all have our quiet, less social days. He’s probably been working all morning and is tired out, not like you who haven't spoken to another human being since last night at 6pm. But no worries, hopefully he’s headed home now to rest up and relax.

Wow, Future self, if you could only find that face powder in your bag. You really need to stop piling everything in there. Maybe this weekend, you’ll finally clean it out so you can find what you need and your tote bag feels less like a black hole and more like a purse! That reminds you: need to follow up on that email about the community garden composting. As much as it would be nice to include everyone in the neighborhood, there’s no way our little garden has room for all of that organic waste! It just won’t fit.

Anyway, here’s your/my stop, Future self! I hope you make it to your meeting on time!!

All the best,
Current self