A Reflection on the Major, My Research, and Vocation
Laren Ciechanowski
The sociology/anthropology major has been an enormous part of my development while at St. Olaf. The coursework and faculty have taught me more about myself, my own community, and the world at large than any other part of my educational experience here. Throughout the course of this paper, I will touch upon the courses and research that have impacted me the most, and also the personal experiences that have facilitated my development in the major.
What initially attracted me to the major was, more than anything, a feeling of existing near a number of communities, but not necessarily ‘within’ any. I was eager to explore the phenomena of community and society to see not only where I fit, but how they form and endure through social, technological, and cultural change. My work in the major has focused largely on subcultures and minorities – groups that tend to identify ‘outside’ of the mainstream, whether by choice or by the force of those ‘within.’
Development in Major
Though I took Social Movements as a freshman, I did not fully appreciate anthropology as a discipline until my Contemporary Native American Issues course in the fall of my sophomore year. For the first time, I was studying issues I was passionate about, and as Professor Williamson later said in Anthropological Theory, I ‘got’ to do my homework instead of ‘had’ to do my homework. Reading authors like Jim Northrup and Vine Deloria, I came to appreciate the importance of integrating my own voice into the work I was writing. Before I learned the importance of creating good academic writing, I learned the significance of reading
The first course in the major that really inspired my anthropological inquiry was Anthropological Theory. Though I had taken an anthropology course prior to the theory course, I lacked the tools and the framework to properly analyze what we were learning. The ability to apply schemas and organize my observations and thoughts about the readings was so liberating. I had foolishly thought my first year and a half at St. Olaf that theoretical approaches to research may inhibit one’s ability to explore the spectrum of possibilities in research, but reading the theorists presented in the course opened my eyes to the range of tools that were available for analysis.
For the first time, I began actively criticizing and analyzing the authors I was reading. I found one theorist in particular quite unbearable to read, partly because of her writing style but also because of some of her academic propositions. I learned quickly, however, that if I wanted to criticize her in class, I needed well-formed arguments and evidence to effectively deconstruct her arguments (as opposed to complaining, which I also did plenty of). Learning how to counter arguments I thought were wrong was an important part of my development in Anthropological Theory.
I also became aware of the profound depth of the scholarly discourse. Schools of though, philosophers, authors, and academics had for centuries been engaging in a discussion that I was only now catching snippets of. During the semester I was in Anthropological Theory I spent so much time in the library that one of the librarians offered me a job at the circulation desk. For the first time, I was actively skipping to the end of chapters to read end notes and suggestions for further reading; bibliographies were my favorite part about getting to do my homework.
The Anthropological Theory journal also taught me a lot about how to develop my thoughts, both for writing assignments and discussions. I learned that it was not only acceptable but expected to ask questions that I could not answer; taking Foundations of Social Science Research in conjunction with Anthropological Theory was teaching me how to frame these very questions into plausible research inquiries. To this day I still keep several reading journals, for both personal reading and academic assignments.
As I said previously, Foundations of Social Science Research was useful insofar as it helped me turn thoughts into questions that could formulate research inquiries. Learning how to conduct focus groups and carry out a quantitative research assessment from start to finish was enormously insightful. While I am no more suited to conduct any sort of quantitative analysis with numbers than I am to perform a root canal, the experience was helpful for me insofar as I now understand where data comes from, and I am much more comfortable using quantitative summaries in my work (if not conducting them myself).
The two most formative classes in terms of my own personal development were my interim independent study in 2006 and Ethnographic Research Methods in the spring of 2006. For the first time, I was able to academically explore my interest in Internet communities and music fanatics, first on a theoretical level with my independent study and finally with my ethnography of the fan community of the reclusive musician Jandek. At that point in my academic development, I not only had the theoretical tools I needed to ask the appropriate questions and examine data insightfully, but I also had developed my writing to the extent that I could effectively convey my own observations and analyses.
I am unendingly appreciative of the willingness of the faculty and the flexibility of the research methods courses for allowing so many students to pursue their interests. The joy of ‘discovering’ research is one I will never forget, and I am so grateful that the faculty members of this department have not forgotten it either. Without numerous conversations I have had with professors in the department outside of class, my skills and toolbox would not be as advanced as they are today. I would also have one fewer geriatric pen-pal and recluse, not to mention a smaller bookshelf.
Theme of Work in Major
The majority of my work in the major has explored my own interests in popular (and unpopular) music and the Internet communities that form around this music. While my interest in music fanatics seemed limited in scope at first, the phenomenon of fanaticism is quite prevalent in many aspects of cultures, particularly in politics and religion. Though my research was focused on music and leisure fanaticism, the theoretical backgrounds I have had to familiarize myself with have significantly broadened my ‘theory toolbox’ and my analytical perspective for not only this major, but also my political science coursework and research.
Conducting my ethnography for 373 particularly awakened me to the fine line the ethnographer must walk separating membership in a community and participant observation. Though an ‘off-campus,’ Internet-based ethnography was able to construct several walls between me as the researcher and the participants in the study, the ‘niche fluency’ required to participate in any sort of discussion with the fan base required a significant amount of investment and interest on my part. From February through the middle of March I actively listened to and pored over the lyrics of Jandek’s then-44 album discography (roughly 37 hours of music), and read through nine years of mailing list archives; I could not have even conceived of doing that if I had no interest in his music or his mystique.
During the course of my interviews, I came across someone who could be considered an ‘informant’ – a graduate student conducting research on Jandek for a fictional biography as a part of his dissertation. When I realized that this man had extensive personal contact with Corwood Industries (the outfit that releases all of Jandek’s material), I was able to learn quite a bit about Jandek and Corwood Industries. The more I learned, the more I became aware of the role of an ethnography; was I supposed to write about what I knew about the object of fans’ devotion, or was I supposed to write what I knew about the person they were objectifying? I decided to focus on the Jandek mystique, and I believe that my ethnography was far better for it; my role was to tell the story and explain the experience of the fans, not just a single informant.
One of the most intriguing aspects of fandom has been the theoretical connection between religious devotion and fan devotion. Sacred texts, objects of devotion, and significant time commitments to rituals occupy the time of participants in both situations. Nearly all activities and communities that we engage in require a certain fluency of their discourses, and recognizing that there is a distinct pattern of devotion and a spectrum of participation has been enlightening for me, to say the least. The experience of participation in anything – social movements, friendship or social networks, religious organizations, or fan communities – cannot simply be described by an in-group/out-group dichotomy. Projection of self and group, perception of other and group, and even how in-groups perceive how out-groups perceive themselves and the reciprocal of this all factor in to how group and cultural dynamics evolve. Additionally, the definition of being either ‘in’ or ‘out,’ as we all know from middle school, is more of spectrum than a light switch.
Even with race and ethnicity, immigrants and minorities, group membership is complex and shifting. Social and political movements that have occurred among and within ethnic groups have rarely represented or pleased the entire demographic. Nevertheless, these movements are often perceived by other groups to do exactly that. The role of the media exacerbates these representations, particularly in an era in which our options for information are so great that even among the diversity of outlets there is an overarching homogeny of content.
The Meaning of the Major
To me, the primary purpose of the major was being able to harness my passions and place them in an academic framework. For years I have been extremely into music and the communities of other people who are into the same music I am. From the moment I found the first message board I felt I ‘belonged’ to, and every message board I’ve been to since, I have been intrigued about why and how people and groups identify themselves as fans. I often wondered how these communities are able to maintain themselves based solely on devotion to a musician, and what happens to these communities after the musician is no longer performing.
With the opportunity to approach my passions, I was able to achieve a greater understanding of society at large. Though my interests were focused, for a long time, on one specific type of community, I learned throughout the course of the major that most communities struggle with the ebbs and flows of identity and membership that music communities struggle with. Whether praising an object of devotion or working toward and elusive goal, communities will still form, fight and evolve.
Not to evoke the sentiments of our former and ill-esteemed Secretary of Defense, but knowing what you do not know is a good indicator of how much you know. The questions that remain for me after the sociology/anthropology major are far greater than the questions I had before I entered St. Olaf, because I now have a better estimate of how much there is out there that I do not yet know. Better still, I now have a bigger toolbox with which to go out and explore the things I do not yet know.
I have also learned that the questions I have can only be answered if I am willing to seek out answers and try to solve puzzles. While this by no means implies that I can explain anything I want to, it does mean that I have a good deal of responsibility to seek out the books, people, and situations that can help me find answers to the questions I have. Initiative and responsibility are central to all aspects of education, whether for personal enlightenment, schoolwork, or career. Learning is a process of inquiry, and you are not ready to engage yourself in the process, you will not go very far.
Reflections on Vocation
I have struggled with the idea of vocation while at St. Olaf. To me, it has always resonated as another misused ideological catchphrase of the school. Other phrases like ‘social justice,’ ‘lives of worth and service’ and ‘ideals to action’ sound empty and somewhat absurd when you employ their antonyms. What is the likelihood that our school (or any school) would graduate a student ‘against justice,’ living a life of ‘worthlessness and self-involvement,’ condoning ‘ideals to inaction’? The antonyms make the catchphrases sound judgmental and self-righteous, and if I have learned anything at St. Olaf it is the importance of being open and accepting.
Apathy is not a disposition I prefer, but I would certainly not classify an apathetic person as worthless or self-involved. Yes, there are plenty of things to mobilize around and rally for; I do not deny that we live in an era that is more than ripe for social change. However, I believe it is our duty to question the vessels that provide with the knowledge and skills to become servants of change. I do not question any of the ideals of St. Olaf because I am cynical, rather I question them because I believe it is important to truly consider the mantras an institution is using to guide itself; I consider these phrases because my major taught me to.
Neither St. Olaf nor any institution truly wants to manufacture social deviants, and a college of the Lutheran church obviously places a lot of emphasis on creating educated young adults with a strong moral schema. I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to grow in such an environment, and I would consider it a waste to not use the talents I have developed here to promote a better world. I
I am a horrible leader, if only because I am prone to questioning the values and rules of institutions. I am a much better policymaker, researcher, and problem-solver, and I have learned that there is not only nothing wrong with that, but that few people are always as interested at being behind the scenes in the same way I am. I do not know, specifically, what my vocation might be, but I have learned the strengths, skills and dispositions – and not least of all, weaknesses – that will shape the paths I follow after college. I know now that I have a lot to contribute to the world, and I am ready to make a change.
As of June, I will be employed at a small law firm in Minneapolis that focuses exclusively on immigration law. The intentions behind my job search were primarily that I find a job that I could enjoy doing, but also that it was a job that I felt was doing good for others. Both my sociology/anthropology research and a political science seminar I took on immigration last spring, I have been interested in how people join and assimilate into communities. More so than members of any fan community, immigrants must rapidly learn a cultural discourse, even if they do not assimilate or integrate fully. The opportunity to understand this process better while being able to write and research daily will no doubt provide me with a wonderful post-college experience.
Throughout the course of the sociology/anthropology major I have learned to question even the institutions I trust, with the hopes of making the world better not only for myself, but for those who do not have the same resources I do. I have taken advantage of the opportunities to research my passions to learn more about myself and those around m; in return, I have gained a greater understanding of how I fit into my communities and I have also learned of the strengths I possess to explain and improve these communities. Without a doubt, I would not be the analytical thinker, writer, or citizen I am today without my experiences as a sociology/anthropology major.
