The murky and sticky business of ethnographic practice
In ethnographic practice, clarifying what we– the ethnographers– are observing, can be a tedious process of cleaning, framing, and foregrounding an object of interest within the hinterland of messy and sticky observables. The very act of purifying these research objects through the ethnographic process can become the object to examine. Moreover, the ways in which it is vexing to purify an object of inquiry can be the object to examine.
Ethnography works with (participant) observation and thick descriptions, but what if this thickness becomes opaque- in our writing and/or in the murky realities of everyday practice? How to work from, within, the thickness of descriptions toward a point? And what was, is, again, the question?
How to clean the murkiness? Or are there moments when we want to stay with it?
Is the murkiness encountered in the course of fieldwork or is it made by asking certain questions and writing certain storylines? When is the murkiness a problem to undue and when is it something to immerse yourself into or appreciate?
What sticks to you in the muck, demanding extrication, and how do you navigate letting go of or giving intentional care to these sticky things? If you become stuck or held back from progressing in your research or writing by sticky or murky situations, what techniques do you use to regain some mobility in your work?
And if you feel the murkiness is the point, what do you do to stay with it? How to attend to murkiness in writing while still being generous to your readers? Which writing styles or genres can hold the murkiness and which become obfuscated beyond repair?
