In the last two weeks Part I & II of this article were presented. Now here is Part III:

Storytelling and Narrative Styles
During the oral history interview the research participant assumes the role of narrator and tells their story. This is a collaborative process of storytelling involving both the narrator and interviewer. The narrator tells their story, but the interviewer fosters the narration through the listening and observational techniques described earlier. In addition to the spoken word itself, the way in which a participant tells their story is itself recognized as an important knowledge source by oral historians.
Qualitative researchers are generally concerned with attending to the meaning people attribute to their life, but oral historians are interested in attending to the experience and voice of those they study in a comprehensive way, unique to the practice and historical development of oral history methodology. Williams (2001) distinguishes between voice and Voice within the research process, using the capital “V” to denote a holistic conception of the term voice. Voice in this sense includes nonverbal gestures, intonation, expressions, bodily movements, speech patterns, and silences (p. 43). These components of the interview are a part of the interviewee’s full expression of herself. In other words, we must attempt to retain and learn from the performative aspects of the storytelling and not allow this to be lost during transcription and analysis (p. 46). Williams encourages researchers to attend to the Voice of the participant more than simply the spoken word provided by an unembellished or “clean” transcript. The researcher can then use their listening and observational skills (p. 45) to take “field notes” or “memo notes” during the interview or transcription process, respectively. Returning more specifically to the role of the participant as narrator and even performer, let’s examine storytelling techniques and speech patterns, central components of data building in oral history.
People have different styles for telling their stories. These different communicative styles result in various kinds of narratives. In this vein, the researcher needs to focus on the “narratology” or narrative structure (Williams, 2001). As feminist and other critical scholars have long explained, narrative form and language choice also provide important data about the narrator. In this way the language and speech style used by the narrator do not merely frame the substantive content of the interview but are also an integral part of it. A holistic approach to oral history emphasizes all aspects of the process. Oral historians, who often work from feminist, multicultural and third-world theoretical perspectives, are interested in understanding the experiences of those marginalized within the society. How has their position within the culture influenced their life experiences as they interpret them and how have these experiences in turn impacted their approach to storytelling? Etter-Lewis expresses these issues:

Language is the invisible force that shapes oral texts and gives meaning to historical events. It is the primary vehicle through which past experiences are recalled and interpreted. Attention to language, its variations and categorical forms, enriches narrative text analysis beyond strictly linguistic concerns. On a most fundamental level, language is the organizing force that molds oral narrative according to a narrator’s distinct style. Styles vary as widely as individuals, but recurring patterns indicate more than speakers’ personal quirks. Speech patterns inherent in oral narrative can reveal status, interpersonal relationships, and perceptions of language, self, and the world. In the case of black women, we must ask what their narrative patterns reveal about their lives. How do their unique experiences influence the manner in which they tell their own life stories? (In Gluck and Patai, 1991, p. 44–5)

To be successful at the art of oral history means, for the critical researcher, to understand, accept, and embrace different narrative styles and, moreover, to recognize their importance rather than disavowing the meanings implied by such difference. This is not without its difficulty. First, scholarly oral history developed within a patriarchal context. Second, those whom we wish to hear from may themselves be accustomed to the silence. Let’s examine each of these intertwined issues.
In a male-dominated world, male forms of communication are normalized and communicative expressions that differ from this model are assumed to be less valid. Qualitative interviewing, including oral history, has not been immune to the culture in which it is practiced. The academy is deeply entrenched in male ways of thinking about knowledge construction. Even nonpositivistic research methods have been influenced by male ways of thinking about language, and this includes qualitative interviewing.

What needs to be altered for women’s oral history is the communication frame, not the woman. Oral history interviewing, influenced by its ties to academic history and by the practice of interviewing in general, has developed in the context of the male sociocommunication system. Because in an andocentric world male speaking is the norm, any other kind of speaking is subnormal . . . (Minister, in Gluck and Patai, 1991, p. 31)

Given our immersion in our culture, we are accustomed to male forms of communication (this could of course be broadened to include the privileging of all hegemonic ideals including white and middle/upper-class styles of communication). So, in order to perform our role of enabling others to tell their stories, we must be attentive to diversity in communicative styles and narrative forms, which includes being reflexive about how our culture has already influenced our assumptions about “the right way to tell one’s story.”
When engaged in this process many scholars explain that we will be confronted with gender differences in communication styles. Specifically, as embodied actors within a larger social order, women communicate differently then men. Furthermore, women’s communicative styles have not been legitimated by the academy or society in general. As such, when interviewing women, the researcher must understand the participant’s storytelling process and legitimate it.

Although some women narrators have adapted well to this male interviewing system that female oral historians must acquire, we will not hear what women deem essential to their lives unless we legitimate a female sociocommunication context for the oral history situation . . . We will not be able to hear and interpret what women value if we do not know how to watch and how to listen and how to speak with women as women. We first need to know consciously how women do communicate privately and with each other. (Minister, in Gluck and Patai, 1991, p. 31)

When working within [AUTHOR: ok?] [yes] the assumptions of standpoint epistemology, this idea of communication subcultures is heightened. Standpoint acknowledges different perspectives based on differential positions within a hierarchical social order. One’s experiences, visions, and voice are thus earned through their experience of being located at a particular point in the social order. Communication strategies may differ based on the intersection of race, ethnicity, class, gender, sexuality, religion, and nationality. In the context of a large oral history project involving the collection of oral history interviews from multiple participants, it is important to bear in mind that there may be differences across and within genders. Take this into account as you prepare to meet with each participant. You cannot assume that based on one characteristic alone a person will mirror the storytelling practices of a previous interviewee. Having said this, despite these differences, there are patterns by which people tend to tell their own life history. We refer to these patterns as narrative structures.

Etter-Lewis (1991) identifies three major narrative styles encountered in the life history interview process: (1) unified, (2) segmented, and, (3) conversational. To this we would add a fourth category, which Kohler-Reissman calls episodic storytelling. As with all narrative forms, the way your respondent tells her or his story may largely be influenced by factors such as race, class, and gender. Related to these characteristics are education, work, and geographic location.

Often researchers may have the expectation that the respondent will hear a topic or guiding question and respond by chronologically explaining their experience regarding the topic, providing in-depth examples to illustrate their experience, and remaining focused on the topic or question. This is the “unified” narrative style.

Contiguous parts of the narrative fit together as a whole, usually in the form of an answer to a particular question. Words and phrases all are related to a central idea . . . the narrator supports her answer as completely as possible by providing several relevant examples. The result is a stretch of discourse unified by its focus on a particular topic. (Etter-Lewis, in Gluck and Patai, 1991, p. 45)

A person who uses such a style of talk may also be telling us something about how she sees herself and how she interprets her life experiences. For instance, a unified approach may indicate that a participant sees the topic clearly and has a cohesive response to it. Beyond the topic at hand, a unified approach may indicate that on a more general level the narrator experiences her life as cohesive and clearly defined. This differs in significant ways from the segmented narrative form.

Continuous parts of a narrative characterized by a diverse assortment of seemingly unrelated utterances. (Etter-Lewis, in Gluck and Patai, 1991, p. 46)

This form of storytelling may be counterintuitive to some researchers who are not used to this form of talk. As such, the initial meetings between the researcher and respondent, where listening and talking skills are worked on, through the building of rapport, become critically important for the researcher to become comfortable with the narrator’s speech (and vice versa).

A segmented approach to oral narrative can also reveal meaning from the perspective of the person sharing her story. For example, the narrator may feel fragmented or that the various components of herself or her experiences are disconnected. This may be true for people who have experienced multiple oppressions due to race, class, gender, and sexuality, which frame their life experiences. In this situation a discussion of female body image disturbances may result in a black narrator talking about how her female mentors taught her coping strategies for dealing with racism that in effect helped give her the high self-esteem needed to also combat a deeply sexist culture that reduces women to their physical bodies. Her experience of sociocultural female body pressures brings her to a discussion of race, because in her experience, these are interlinked. Her narrative may shift around, but in ways that are inextricably linked to her experience of the topic being discussed. There are alternative reasons a narrative may be segmented. If the narrator has never been given the opportunity to reflect on the many experiences that comprise her life, the process of sharing her story may also be an intimate process of self-discovery. Thus her narrative style may reflect “a putting together of the pieces” for herself and simultaneously the researcher. What may initially appear as off the subject may actually be quite connected to the issue under discussion. This is intimately tied to our earlier contention that many of those we ask to speak may in fact be used to being muted due to their marginalization within the society. Those denied access to the social tools by which to tell their stories due to their race, ethnicity, social class, gender, or sexuality may simply not have previous experience telling their story. In this vein feminist oral historian Armitage says, “We will learn what we want to know only by listening to people who are accustomed to talking” (as quoted by Minister, 1991, p. 32). We can see this in pop culture forms as well, such as Eve Ensler’s play The Vagina Monologues, in which some women stated that they had difficulty talking about their sexual experiences simply because no one had ever asked before. They didn’t know what to say and were surprised that someone was interested. A segmented approach to narration may in these cases be the result of unearthing thoughts and feelings that had previously been untapped. A process of making the internal orally available for external use may involve a negotiation expressed through words.
Narrators may also recount past conversations as a means of providing an answer to questions. Such an approach may result in an indirect but very important and descriptive answer to a question posed by the researcher.

A contiguous part of a narrative identified by the reconstruction of conversations as they probably occurred in the past. Conversational elements are used to illustrate an idea or event. The narrator modifies voice, tone, and pitch in order to represent different speakers and different emotions (e.g., high pitch for anger or surprise). (Etter-Lewis, in Gluck & Patai, 1991, p. 47)

Etter-Lewis (1991, p. 47) asserts that the narrator may choose to recount a past conversation instead of directly answering a question as a way of mediating painful or otherwise difficult feelings that come to the surface as a past experience is recalled. In this way it is a defense mechanism for tapering uncomfortable or particularly strong emotions. It is vitally important to enable this kind of self-protection, since, as discussed earlier, neither the researcher nor research participant can know the extent to which the oral history interview process will bring any given emotion to the surface. Participants need the freedom to deal with unexpected emotions in a way that works for them. To the ethnographic interviewer, the performative repetition of conversations may provide the details and descriptions the researcher is most interested in. Etter-Lewis explains that these recollections may actually serve as a “magnifying glass through which details can be highlighted” (p. 47).

Drawing similarities to segmented and conversational styles of storytelling, some people may use an episodic frame through which they share their story. Kohler-Riessman (1987) contrasted the episodic and linear ways women narrated their marriage life histories. Episodic narrative differs from a unified approach where a teller uses a linear (temporally ordered) model of storytelling. In episodic narration a participant speaks by telling stories as episodes within their life. Their speech pattern relies on recounting experiences as episodes that are not chronologically ordered but are rather thematically driven.
Research participants may use more than one of these storytelling techniques as they share their knowledge with you. Shifts in narrative frames may be important indicators of a narrator’s feelings or where they place emphasis. In keeping with the goals of understanding social meaning from the perspective of those creating it, truly developing one’s craft as an oral historian involves understanding the various frames through which people communicate ideas and paying attention to nuance, such as a shift in narrative form. In this regard the interview process results in more than the flat words on the transcript page, but a complex understanding of the person’s story as it was told to you.

End of part III.

Source:
The Practice of Qualitative Research by Sharlene J. Nagy Hesse-Biber and Patricia L. (Lina) Leavy (Aug 9, 2005), Part II: Methods of Data Collection, Chapter 5: ORAL HISTORY: A Collaborative Method of (Auto)Biography Interview



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