Sarasota Oral History Project

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The Sarasota Oral History Project: Old Stories New Media By Casey Stack Schelhorn A Thesis Submitted to the Division of Social Sciences New College of Florida In Partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree Bachelor of the Arts Under the Sponsorship of Dr. Erin Dean Sarasota, Florida December, 2010

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Table of Contents Introduction Page 1 History of Oral History Page 4 The Sarasota Oral History Project Page 21 The Purpose of the Sarasota Oral History Project Page 23 Constructing a Portrait of the Past Page 26 The Audio Slideshow Page 28 Personal Evolution Page 31 Shared Authority Page 36 Is this work Oral History Page 39 Past-Participant Interviews Page 41 Further Developing the Sarasota Oral History Project Page 47 Conclusion Page 50 Appendices A: Questions for Past-Participant interviews Page 52 Bibliography Page 53 ii

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Sarasota Oral History Project: Old Stories New Media Casey Stack Schelhorn New College of Florida, 2011 ABSTRACT This thesis has two components: four oral histories a nd a written portion. Thr ee of the four oral histories are part of the larger Sarasota Oral History Project, a collaborative project between New College and Sarasota County. The or al histories take two forms: a complete transcription of the interviews and a 5-8 minute long audio slideshow The written portion of the thesis provides a critical analysis of the Sarasota Oral History Pr oject. The first section briefly outlines the history of oral history. In the second section I utilize this historiogr aphy to better understand where the Sarasota Oral History Project fits within this history, making the case that it fits within the growing field of public oral histor y. I look specifically at the challe nge within this subset of oral history to produce work which appe als to the public while also satis fying scholarly notions of the discipline. Here I look at the audi o slideshow as a response to this quandary. In the third section I draw from interviews I performed with seven of the pastparticip ants to better understand ethical concerns regarding our representa tion of them. In the final section I make recommendations for how we might further develop the Sarasota Oral Hi story Project to better meet concerns within the field of public oral history. Professor Erin Dean ________________________ iii

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iv Acknowledgements This thesis is dedicated to the Sarasota Old Timers who welcomed me into their homes and shared with me their stories. Also, much tha nks to Erin Dean for keeping me in line, and ultimately bringing this thesis to fruition. And to everyone else: roommates, family, friends, and confidants (you know who you are) I love you all very much.

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Introduction It has been said that story is the second most important need after food (May 1994: 62). My interest in story, rather than having a finite beginning, therefore, might simply be a part of being human. Nonetheless, integrating that inte rest into my academic pursuits began with The Listen Mission. During my first ISP at New College, my best friend David Anderson and I decided we wanted to practice the art of having meaningful interactions with strangers, and to hopefully unlock their stories and wisdom. From this idea, The Listen Mission was born. The projects original mission statement best describes our inspiration: We are roaming the streets of Atlanta doing just what our mamas taught us not to do: talking with strangers. Why? Because we feel that there are a whole lot of interesting people out there who we never get to know. We love those rare experiences when we really connect with a total stranger. We see no real reason why we cant have these experiences on a da ily basis. Most importantly, we hope this mission will encourage others to branch out and get to know new people. Weve just started listening and are already hooked on the endless supply of interesting people, lifestyles, and stories that we find behind each new face. We want more! Our method was to approach people on the street, explain the project (always in a new way), ask some questions and see what happened. Sometimes a very interesting interaction would occur; other times it was absolutely awkward. When it went well, we would take a photograph of each of the people we met, and write down the basic gist of the encounter. When we got home later that day, we posted their photograph, along with a brief description on our website: www.thelistenmission.com Returning to New College the following semest er, invigorated by The Listen Mission, we were both committed to finding new ways to fulf ill our interest in stories. I enrolled in the Ethnography class, where I hoped to build upon the idea of connecting meaningfully with strangers, and explore new ways to capture those experiences. The Ethnography class introduced me to the anthropological method of participant observation. I chose as my subject group the community of live-aboard sailors anchored near downtown Sarasota. I spent a month in the anchor age, staying aboard a borrowed sailboat with 1

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my girlfriend. Over the course of the semester I became close with a handful of the sailors, and learned about a complex legal and social battle over their rights to live in the anchorage. Although I flourished in the field work, becoming entwined in the colorfu l anchorage community, I struggled to capture my experience in the final write-up. I simply couldnt find a way to communicate the powerful impression that the anchorage had left on me. This was particularly disheartening, because I wanted my efforts to help the community with their battle for continued existence, and I felt that getting their story told would help with this. I resolved to find more powerful ways to capture story. Soon thereafter, I converted that resolve into a new project. Almost immediately upon turning in th e ethnography paper, David Anderson and I turned in another (much easier) paper: our leave-of-absence. The stated purpose of our leave, was to embark on a second Listen Missi on. Instead of roaming Atlanta by foot, however, this time we would be roaming the country on our bicycles. Like the first Listen Mission, we were still interested in capturi ng stories. The format, however, got a major facelift. We taught ourselves more web-d esign skills, bought a tiny computer, and a highquality audio recorder. Our goal was to produce audio slideshows of the people we met. The trip didnt go as planned. Although we eventually, three months past schedule, bicycled from Seattle to San Fran cisco, the Listen Mission aspect didnt pan out. Nonetheless, it turned out to be one of the best trips of my life! And any shortcomings related to the capturing of stories would soon find outlet in other endeavors. When David re-enrolled during the spring semester, he incorporated his interest in story into an oral history thesis about his beloved summer camp: Camp Catoctin. I incorporated mine into the Sarasota Oral History Project. This thesis is about that project. The Sarasota Oral History Project (SOHP) was spawned from a simple idea: that our communitys stories are valuable. This idea, fi nding fertile ground amongst a handful of people, has since grown into a multi-faceted project. For three semesters, New College students have been collecting local stories, transcribing them and creating multi-media pieces, which are shared 2

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at the local history center, at public presentations and also online. Ive been personally involved for all three of those semesters, and was actually one of the handful of people who collaborated in the original vision of the project. The SOHP originally attracted my interest because it fulfilled a personal interest in the stories of others. Ive since come to realize the greater importance of this kind of work. For one thing, if we dont capture the stories of our comm unitys past, then who will? This can be tragic because of the important lessons they offer. In te rms of the environment, the stories often tell of Sarasotas more abundant past. The moral is that we must work hard to renew our landscape to a greater level of vibrancy. The stories can serve any number of purposes. And if nothing else, they are important because they honor the lives of others For the simple reason, that I found the work to be valuable, I decided to choose the SOHP as my thesis topic. The thesis project has two components: the practical, and the written. The practical consists of the four oral histories Ive complete d. Each of these oral histories includes a complete transcript of my interview along with the finished audio slideshow. The oral histories are included on a DVD, and they are also available online at: www.sarasotaoralhistory.com These oral histories are the heart of the project. They also represent an important personal journey, one in which Ive learned much about the art and pr actice of capturing and conveying stories. If you havent already done so, before reading on, I hope you will view the short audio slideshows. The Sarasota Oral History Project has also b een a lesson in the greater scholarship which informs oral history. Throughout my involvement in the project, Ive become increasingly interested in how the work produ ced by the SOHP fits into this scholarship, and also in which ways it is distinctive. The written portion of the thesis examines this relationship. My first chapter lays the ground work through a history of oral history. This chapter charts developments in the discip line, beginning with the Federal Writers Project, the first oral history project, and going on to StoryCorps, a contemporary project. 3

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I place emphasis on the social, technological, theoretical and methodological developments which have informed the discipline. In the second chapter, I introduce the Sar asota Oral History Project, examining the underlying social purpose of our work and how our methodological decisions fulfill that purpose. In contextualizing the SOHP within the greater discipline, I make the distinction between scholarly and public c onceptions of oral history. Through the scholarly lens, I critically examine how our work compares to other projects and also how closely it adheres to the oral histor y guidelines established by the Oral History Association. Through the public lens, I look at how the past participants of the project understand our work. This inquiry is based on interviews I did with six of the eleven past participants, in which I asked them about th eir personal experiences and perceptions of our work. In the final section of the thesis, I offer my personal opinions for how I think we might develop the project in the future. 4

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History of Oral History Oral History is of such self-evident importance that many have neglected to step back and examine it critically (Grele 1978: 35). Doing so re veals two parallel threads: one is the world of stories and another is the attempt to capture those stories. This seems appropriate considering that oral history, as practice, is both ancient and relatively modern. It is ancient because since the beginning of time we have been telling these stories, and it is modern because only recently have we had the tools for physically capturing them (t o any large degree). Our interest in stories is burned so deeply into us that most of us forg et the theoretical and social forces underlying the capturing aspect. An examination of this latter aspec t of oral history reveals a story all its own. In this chapter of the thesis, I will tell the story of oral history, focusing on the social and theoretical forces which have shaped the discipline. The Federal Writers Project, known more co mmonly as the FWP, is generally cited as the forefather of modern oral history projects. The project was established in 1935 as part of Roosevelts New Deal as a Works Progress Administration program to employ out-of-work writers. It was an enormous undertaking, empl oying at its peak in 1936 6,600 writers and consultants from all over the country (Blakey 2005 : 15). The task endowed to this army of enlisted writers was to capture and celebrate America in all its diversity. The project collected an enormous compilation of folk songs and childrens books and wrote guides, local histories, ethnographies, and oral histories. The 300 books, 700 pamphlets and 340 other publications that would come from the project told the stories of Americans from all walks of life (Blakey 2005: 20). Though the FWP lost its funding after only seven years, it left an enduring legacy. Beyond introducing an institutional model for future oral history projects, the FWP is also touted as empowering and inspiring many of the writers who would define 20th century American literature, writers such as John Steinbeck and Ral ph Ellison. There is no doubt that the FWP was a project far ahead of its time. It was guided by a progressive ideology, which sought to redefine 5

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Americas core values in order to build a more egalitarian society. I will examine the social purposes of the FWP as part of a larger effort to understand the unde rlying sensibilities which frame oral history. The FWP was largely under the direction of Henry Alsberg, a left-leaning intellectual. He, with the help of others, designed the FWP according to three principles: Romantic Nationalism, Cosmopolitanism, and Pluralism (Hir sch 2003: 24). These ideas, which were the defining characteristics of the liberal intelligentsia of the 1930s, were borne out of issues at home and abroad. The early 1900s was a time of homogenous and narrow interpretations of American identity, those of a white protestant society. This way of thinking was coupled with increased racism, a resurgence of Ku Klux Klan activity, anti-Semiticism, anti-Catholicism, and a general animosity towards immigrant groups (Quarles 1999: 189). Such narrow-mindedness was not limited to America; across the Atlantic, German f ascism was proliferating to frightening levels. Those in charge of directing the FWP sought a more egalitarian and democratic society. It was their belief that the work done by the FW P could help achieve this. FWP writers sought to tell the stories of Americans from all races, classes and ethnicities. In creating a more pluralistic depiction of American society, the FWP wished to expand Americas idea of itself to that of a proudly diverse nation. The theory was that if Americans could come to view the diversity of their nation as integral to its vitality, they woul d work towards equal rights and true democracy. The pluralism and egalitarianism of the liberal intelligentsia during this time was largely influenced by anthropological wo rk, such as that being done by Franz Boas. Boas was interested in the vastness of cultural diversity. And rather than considering individual cultures as falling along a hierarchical continuum in relation to one another, as was being done in mainstream thinking, he understood the vastness of cultural modes as part of the human beings creative ability to adapt to its environment. The resultant epiphany was that we are not determined by race and ideology. As simple and uncontestable as this observation might seem today, we must 6

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remember that ideas regarding a master race were commonplace in America and at that very moment brewing in Germany towards horrific ends. The anthropological reconceptualization of culture went beyond questioning the hierarchical continuum; it also redefined the un derlying idea of culture itself. To illustrate the traditional notion of culture, we can examine th e long-standing debate regarding Americas lack of culture. Those who claimed America lacked culture were referring to an idea of culture based on the greatest achievements of society. Henry James, an American-born writer who spent most of his life in England, listed what was for him pr oof of Americas dearth of culture: no palaces, no castles, nor manors, nor old country-houses, nor parsonages, nor thatched cottages (James 1879: 42). Culture, according to this conception, would have also included opera, dance, literature, and other high art forms. The criticism that America lacked culture w as of serious concern because it was believed that without culture, nationality could not exist. Because America had no culture to draw on, it was thought that no culture could be derived, and thus a national identity could not form (Hirsch 2006: 21). Amongst the liberal intelligentsia, there w as also a sense of the need to move away from the European understanding of culture, an understanding illustrated by Henry James. The anthropological conceptualization of culture, as the way of life and daily procedures of normal people, provided the theoretical basis for that move. According to the anthropological concept, wherever there are people, there is also culture. For the FWP, this meant an all-inclusive attitude towards what represents true American culture No story was considered unimportant or unAmerican. The enormous task for the FWP would be to redefine American identity according to this diverse notion with the intent of opening the parochial minds of an entire nation. This notion of redefining American identit y exposes the nationalistic underpinnings that guided the FWPs work. Nationalism, according to the scholar Benedict Anderson, is based on the idea of an imagined community. It is imagined because it is not a real community, in the sense that the members do not really know one another. And yet, under a nation there exists a 7

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sense of shared communion. In his book Imagi ned Communities, Benedict Anderson explores this idea of nationalism, describing both how it is has come to be globally pervasive and yet seemingly unexplained and unquestioned by those who ascribe to it. Nationalism is a relatively modern phenomenon; its origin is associated with the recent development of the nation-state. Historians place the first instance of secular nationalism with the French Revolution during the late 18th century (Smith 2003: 112). Before that time, people identified with their religion, rather than nationstates. However, as religion began to fade as the dominant mode of thought during the late 18th century, nationalism stepped in to take its place. Benedict Anderson claims that to understand the ideological mechanisms of nationalism, one must first recognize what it grew out of: religion (Anderson 2006: 19). The pervasiveness of religion, according to Anderson, is in its imaginative response to the overwhelming burden of human sufferingdisease, mutilation, grief, age, and death (2006: 10). Religion helps deal with this suffering, not by dampening the direct cause of suffering, but by suggesting a better afterlife. Religion, then replaces fatality with continuity (Anderson 2006: 7). The fading of religion in Western Europe during the late 18th century required a secular transformation of fatality into continuity (2006 : 11). This according to Anderson was the genesis of modern nationalism (2006: 11). Nations deal with the idea of continuity by creating the illusion of a grand community, in which each person feels they are in communion with the others. The community exists beyond the individual lives that live under it. This illusion requires a deep sense of comradeship between individuals who dont actua lly know each other. So deep is this sense of community that, as Anderson points out in the case of war, individuals are willing to sacrifice their lives for the continuity of the nation (2006: 7). Remarkably, the idea of a national community is merely an illusion, as there can be no possible way for each of the individuals to know one another. Benedict Anderson explains in depth some of the mechanisms which have made this illusion possible. Topping his list are print 8

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technology and capitalism. These two developments, in conjunction with one another, made the universalization of language possible, thus pa ving the way for the mass dissemination of ideas. From there, it became feasible for entire nations of people to communicate and share ideas and beliefs which make the illusion of community possible. The FWP is one attempt in a long tradition of efforts in creating a sense of national unity. As Anderson explains, this illusion of unity relies on a shared imagination of a national community. For America, imagining all of its di verse groups to be part of the same community has been problematic. The FWP attempted to rec oncile this problem by reimagining the diversity of the American community as a virtue. The efforts of the FWP are commonly articulated as creating a portrait of America. It is an appropriate analogy because it expresses the ex tent to which the products, like art, are representative of the aesthetic and compositional id eas of its maker. The FWP utilized a wide pallet, including groups who had been previously left out of the American portrait. Nonetheless, those in charge of the FWP were not by any means photo-realists in their style. The FWPs portrayal of America tended towa rds the celebratory, excluding tensions and uglier parts of our past. Furthermore, the texts a nd manuscripts were edited with ferocity, creating the shortest and sweetest depictions possible. One of the former directors of the project recalled that chapters became pages, pages became paragraphs, and paragraphs became sentences (Blakey 2005: 62). That same director cut a 650,000 word manuscript to 250,000 words. Such editing would seem inconceivable to the modern or al historian, whose mandate is to provide as complete and accurate a representation of the narrators experience as possible. Yet for the FWP, the attitude was more literary, cutting and editing towards a product which would be enjoyed by the masses. Moreover, it would be a uniquely Amer ican product borne of pluralistic and romantic national ideals. In this effort, it largely succeeded. Lewis Mumford claimed that this listening to the American voice, may mean more for literature than any sudden forcing of stories a nd poems (in Hirsch 2003: 33). The belief was that 9

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the FWP would help create an art form based on a celebration of all things American. Inspired by this notion, a singer was quoted in an interview suggesting an opera with Billy the Kid and Sitting Bull (Hirsch 2003: 32). Although the opera never came to be, the le gacy of the FWP is enormous. The project, which only lasted 7 years, would empower countless to go on to create a uniquely American form of literature. For oral history, it was the genesis. Aside from the vast archive of documents, which are still being used to piece together an understanding of the past, the FWP had the radical notion that the spoken word of ordinary people has value. The oral history work that immediately followed, however, would set aside this notion of celebrating the ordinary and steer the field in an entirely different direction. Five years after the end of the FWP, The Columbia Oral History Project was born. Archival Focus of Oral History Despite its chronological proximity, the Columbia Oral History Project did all it could to separate itself from the work of the FWP (Hirsch 2003: 142). Although it only occurred a few years later, the cultural mindset of America afte r WWII was drastically different than it had been during the Depression years of the FWP. Bad memories from the Depression and skepticism towards the communist ideas underlying New Deal programs had caused many to disassociate with work such as the FWP. In fact, it would be another three decades before scholars began to look at the work of the FWP with renewed interest. The post-WWII era had ushered in a triumphalist mood and a coinciding mindset adverse to the types of stories told by the FWP, stories of common people whose lives were difficult and inglorious (Hirsch 2003: 142). Alan Nevins, the director of the Columbia Oral History project, sought to collect his oral testimonies from people who had lived significant lives. For Nevins, this idea of a significant life was relegated to the politicians and other pe ople of power (Frisch 1998: 32), or as Alistair Thomson puts it, white male elites (2007: 51). The top-down approach of the Columbia 10

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project was a 180 degree contrast to the bottom-up approach taken by the FWP, where everyones story was considered worthwhile. For Nevins, the idea of telling the stories of the elites of society was engrained with his training as a historian. In fact, many of the differences between the FWP and the Columbia project can be understood according to the in stitutional differences. Whereas the FWP was a government sponsored project with little interest in answering to a scholarly community, the Columbia project was deeply embedded in the academic world. It was sponsored by a university, conducted by academics, and had the intent of pro ducing material for use by future historians. Nevins, who was a professional historian himself, saw the Columbia project as part of the greater discipline of History, adopting many of the assumptions of the field. Interestingly, Nevins understood the role of History to be nationalistic, similar to the FWPs conception of its work. In his book The Gateway to History (1938), Nevins wrote that it (history) is first a creator of nations, and after th at, their inspirer (3). He explained that it does this By giving people a sense of continuity in all their efforts, and by chronicling immortal worth, it confers upon them both a consciousness of their unity, and a feeling of their importance of human achievement (1938: 3). For Nevins, however, the reference points of history were best chronicled by the lives of the rich and powerful. This idea is part of a much deeper legacy in history. Until relatively recently, history has been largely linked with political purposes. Historians have generally come from the administering and governing classes (Thompson 19 78:2). Their version of history, then, has always sought to tell the story of the rich and powerful. On a more logistical level, the lives of the rich and powerful are much easier to deduce simply because they have left more evidence for historians to sift through. Th is is in contrast to working-class people whose postcards, letters, diaries, and ephemera go largely unpreserved (Thompson 1978: 3). 11

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Paul Thompson, in his book The Voice of the Past, goes on to explain that while historians no longer come from the administering and governing classes, they adopt many of the same methodological procedures (Thompson 1978: 4). It is a methodology focused more on aggregate data rather than individual life stor ies. Furthermore, up until the time of Nevins, it focused almost exclusively on written data. Nevins sought to add oral testimonies to the source material used by historians. He believed this to be particularly important due to the modernizing fo rces of the time. Nevins feared that technologies such as the telephone would increasingly usurp the place of written correspondence. The concern was that this would threaten the historical record, essentially not leaving one. For Nevins, the purpose of oral hist ory would be to debrief those who had lived significant lives in order to add what would othe rwise be lost to the record (Hirsch 2003). Nevins task was made possible by the recent advent of the reel-to-reel audio recorder, technology which had been unavailable to the oral historians of the FWP. Transcribed interviews were made out of the audio, and these transcripti ons became the basis of Nevins archives. The audio recorder made possible the idea of transcribing an accurate written account of an interview. Although Nevins elite version of oral history did not leave a lasting mark on the discipline, his archival focus certainly did. Issues of Authenticity As audio recorders became more portable and affordable, oral history projects began to proliferate. By 1965, there were 89 ongoing oral history projects in the United States, and the focus of many had shifted away from the lives of the elites towards a more populist version of history (Yow 2005: 3). Three decades later, oral history had once again returned to its FWP roots of documenting the lives of people previously left out of history. However, unlike during the times of the FWP, the discipline was now more fo cused on the idea of creating a viable document for the archives. 12

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Traditional historians during the early 1970s began to contest the authority of oral testament. Much of this criticism came from po litically conservative historians who were adverse to the Peoples History movement of the time (Thomson 2007: 53). They claimed that memory was simply too unreliable to be used as a viable hi storical record. They argued that it is affected by physical deterioration and nostalgia. Furthermor e, the bias of the interviewer, interviewee and the relationship between the two skewed what was said. One historian said of oral history that the world of image, selective memory, later overlays and utter subjectivity. And where will it lead us? Not into history, but into myth (in Thomson 2007: 53). The initial response from oral historians was a tightening up of methodology to improve the reliability of oral testament and to filter out unreliable sources. They utilized ideas drawn from social psychology to determine the relia bility of memory (Thompson 1978). Numerous guidebooks were written regarding ideas such as th e significance of retrospection, the effect of the interviewer on memory, bias, and the fabrication of memory. Towards the end of the 1970s, new ideas re garding the value of memory began to emerge. A new school of oral historians argued that the value of oral history lays in its unreliability. Rather than using oral history for trying to accrue an objective account of the past, as has been the purpose of History, Oral Histor y shows us how people derive meaning from the past. Michael Frisch explains that oral history is, a powerful tool for discovering, exploring, and evaluating the nature of the process of historical memoryhow people make sense of their past, how they connect individual experience and its social context, how the past becomes part of the present, and how people use it to interpret their lives and the world around them (1990: 188). Imagined truth, according to this understandi ng, is as important as objective truth because it affects the decisions we make and thus has the power to alter the future. As oral historians began to look more critica lly at the value of their work, concerns were also raised regarding the methodological underpi nnings of the discipline. Alessandro Portelli, one 13

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of the most influential of this new approach, qu estioned the transcription itself, a medium that has been the meat of oral history since The Columbia Oral History Project. Portelli claimed that the unquestioning adherence to the transcript is part of our over-reverence to the written form. This over-reverence to the written form causes historia ns to look questioning ly upon the value of oral sources while treating the contents of a lette r as if they were facts. The transcription was borne out of this assumption, and according to Portelli, has been used to legitimize the spoken account. So deeply engrained is this idea of th e written legitimation of the spoken, that oral historians customarily destroy their tapes once they are transcribed (1979: 33). Rather than understanding the transcription as a true representation of the conversation, Portelli argues that we should consider it an autonomous entity, having its own specific qualities. Portelli likens the impossibility of creating a perfect transcription to translating a piece of literature: it always impli es a certain amount of invention (1979: 34) Writing offers only very limited means for capturing the true texture of voice. Vocal characteristics such as tone, volume, range and rh ythm are nearly impossible to capture in the written form, and yet they convey important meaning. A single phrase can have multiple meanings depending on its delivery, and yet the gr ammatical tools for writing are hardly adequate to convey this. There is no punctuation mark to represent the speeding up of narrative, volume changes or even the most subtle vocal modula tions that can so deeply affect meaning. The solution is not to work towards a tighter methodology and complex system of denotation. This, however, has certainly been atte mpted; Dennis Tedlock worked to bring out the literary value in translation and transcription (B endix 2000: 36). Regardless, text will always leave out the extra dimension that comes with listening. Perhaps part of the appeal of textualizing speech is that by simplifying its meaning it becomes easier to derive an objective truth from it. The quest for objectivity goes beyond the discipline of History; it seems to permeate throughout scholarly assumptions. And yet oral hist ory, as suggested by scholars such as Frisch and Portelli, is not about the objective or true past It is about the perception of the past, and the 14

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deeper meaning behind that perception. And becau se of the nature of human beings, any spoken account will be tied up in a complex web of emo tions, hidden meanings, in terpersonal feelings, and any number of factors. The goal, then, for the practitioners of oral history is the difficult task of documenting the narrative in all its many di mensions. The scholarly community, however, has been largely biased against the conveyances of emotions. Regina Bendix describes that when expressive culture is converted into writing, sensual and emotional experiences are often lost (Bendi x 2000: 34). This was recognized even before audio recording was a possibility. Bendix gives the example of anthropologists who studied slave songs before the advent of the audio recorder, a nd lamented the fact that they couldnt capture the soul-turning quality of the music. Yet even when audio-recording became tec hnologically feasible, the preference towards the written continued. Bendix explains this as part of a deep scholarly fascination with the objectification of culture. Writing reinforces this notion by avoiding the difficult topics of emotion, the senses and their affect. Avoiding emotion, Bendix explains, is part of the scholarly attitude that the personal is irrelevant (2000: 34). Emotions, according to this conception, are too universal and biological to be of interest to a scholar trying to understa nd a specific culture. Since vocabulary for describing emotion lacks adequate precision, those who attemp t it are generally criticized for their romantic exuberances (Bendix 2000: 36). Furthermore, emotions simply do not fit typical methods of cultural analysis. For oral history, emotions are important. They convey meaning and allow us to better understand a persons experience. Since the written form cannot always achieve this, there has been a recent push towards archiving the audio and even video versions of an interview. Oral History & Activism 15

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As scholars expand the archival record to incl ude voice, there has also been a movement to extend the uses of oral testament beyond the archive. The emotionally stirring effect of voice has largely been the inspiration for this shift. The power of voice is undeniable. Some claim that it is even more powerful than sight for gripping our heart (Yi-Fu Tuan, cited in Bendix 35). It is this power which has pushed oral historians to pursue, through their work, political and social causes. Daniel Kerrs Cleveland Homeless Oral Hist ory Project (CHOHP) is one such politicallyminded oral history project. Kerrs intention with the project was to create dialogue between Clevelands homeless population and the greater community. His initial attempts utilized a typical interview-to-transcription approach. Wh ile Kerr found that the homeless population was willing to discuss issues with him, the transcribed version of the interviews did not interest the public. Kerr described that when he presented them publically he was met with a cool reception, defeating the intended purpose of creating constructive di alogue (Kerr 2003: 486). Kerr tied this problem to limitations of the written format (Kerr 2003: 486). Kerrs solution was to display video footag e of the interviews in public parks around Cleveland. He was immediately greeted by a positive response from the public (Kerr 2003: 487). The video-format had the visceral and heart-gripping effect that the written format simply couldnt achieved. Furthermore, Kerr was more capable of broadcasting interviews to a wideaudience. He also began to conduct radio interv iews with the homeless, further extending the reach of his efforts. Kerr found that the political use of oral history shifted the methodology used for collecting interviews. For one thing, Kerr shifte d the types of questions he asked. Instead of focusing on life histories, he asked them about the historical causes of homelessness and what they thought could be done about them. Kerr explained that this helped avoid making homeless people feel like they were providing a confessional (2003: 487). The basis of this approach lies in the idea of providing shared authority. 16

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Shared-Authority Michael Frisch is perhaps the most outspoken scholar regarding the idea of shared authority. For Frisch, shared authority refers to the idea that oral historians need to understand that their method involves much more than the extraction of knowledge from human history mines (Frisch 1990: xxii). Instead, Frisch explains, we need to share the dialogue about the shape, meaning, and implications of history (1990: xxii). This idea impacts both the process of gathering history and the end product itself. The pr oduct should, rather than being a depository of knowledge, promote a more democratized and widely shared historical consciousness and encourage further participation (Frisch 1990: 273). The goal of creating a truly shared authority might be more ideal than reality. Lorraine Sitzia wrote about her experience in trying to pursue an oral history project utilizing a shared authority approach. For one thing, Sitzia found that allowing narrators to choose which stories are included dramatically shifts the end-product. This, as Sitzia points out, is not necessarily a bad thing. It provides us with an interesting insight into how individuals arrange the stories of their own lives (Sitzia 2003: 100). She did, however, identify some problems with the process. For one thing, it entailed an unrealistically large time commitment. Also, she felt that she couldnt be critical of the narrator, analyzing their stories in ways they might not like (2003: 101). Sitzia concluded that in the future she would create multiple products, allowing her self the space to be both inclusive and critical of the narrator. Passerini warns of the often idealized idea that shared authority will somehow bring about a facile democratization (in Thomson 2007: 56). He reminds us to be critical, and analyze memories according to the dominan t forces that shape them. These forces include the relationship with the professional historian, and also the dominant memories of a community. Thomson explains that one of the common issues in oral history is the confusion regarding individual 17

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memories and community memori es. Individual memories that diverge from the dominant narrative are often wiped out (Thomson 2007: 56). That these issues are an unavoidable element within oral history further highlights for Passerini and Thomson the importance of a critical analytical approach to both utilizing and practicing oral history. This concern is especially of interest as oral history continues to grow both in scale and in scope. Not only have the types of projects diversif ied, but so too have the practitioners. No longer are oral historians limited to the academy. Sc hools, community groups, and the public media have all jumped on the oral history bandwagon. Pushing oral history beyond the scholarly community has certainly widened the range and popularity of oral history projects. It has also turned oral history into a hot word, creating a branch of or al historians unread in the theoretical concerns regarding memory. As a result, we are seeing many self-proclaimed oral history projects whose link to the discipline is rather questionable. Most prominent of these examples is Story Corp s. Story Corps is a self-proclaimed oral history project which collects and edits stor ies from people all over America and broadcasts pieces of them on NPR and also in a handful of books. The project utilizes a number of both travelling and stationary audio booths to collect the stories. A pair of people meets at one of the audio booths, one interviewer and one subject; they are generally family members or close friends wishing to capture a specific story. The entire process generally lasts 40 minutes. For the participants, the product is a CD of the interview which they get to take home. The version Story Corps airs is edited from forty minutes to a polished five (Abelmann, et al 2009: 256). The director of the project, Dave Isay, claims that Story Corps is oral history. The Oral History Review, in a critical examination of the project, however, suggests that no, it is not really oral history (Abelmann, et al 2009: 256). The crux of the criticism is that the heavy editing, short interview process, and the un-contextualized natu re of the interviews do not create a document which abides by the criterion of the discipline. The official principles and practices published by 18

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the venerable Oral History Association (2009) further indicate StoryCorps distance from the disciplinary bounds of oral history: Oral history interviews are historical documents that are preserved and made accessible to future resear chers and members of the public. Oral history interviews seek an in-depth account of personal experience and reflections, with sufficient time allowed for the narrators to give their story the fullness they desire. The content of oral history intervie ws is grounded in reflections on the past as opposed to commentary on purely contemporary events. Interviewers are obliged to ask historically significant questions, reflecting careful preparation for the interview and understanding of the issues to be addressed. StoryCorps does not interview the subjects, but has the subjects bring in someone close to them to do the interviewing. There is no contex tualizing of story or b ackground research of any sort. And though these methodological differences could probably be reconciled with the discipline, the lack of transparency cannot. Most oral history consists of vast quantities of transcriptions. Story Corps, on the other hand, presents its work in the form of a neatly edited piece. Furthermore, the books and radio clips presented by StoryCorps are chosen from a vast collection. Isays book, Listening is an Act of Love for instance, represents 49 story excerpts fro m over 10,000 interviews (Abelmann, et al 2009: 256). In this sense, the stories are more indicative of the sensibilities of Story Corps editors than any general trend. David Isay, nonetheless, sees what he is doing as oral history. On the book jacket for Listening is an Act of Love he claims that he is offering something for the comprehensive 19

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records. Most oral historians, however, would agree that StoryCorps relationship to the discipline is not its archival focus, but rather a thematic relationship to the legacy of oral history. Story Corps is in many ways akin to the wo rk of the FWP. In fact, Isay himself sees it that way. Much like the FWP, Isay calls what he is doing creating a moving portrait of American life. The link is intriguing, and it is true that Story Corps, like the FWP, spans the whole of America. Furthermore in pursuing this idea of creating a portrait of a nation, both projects succeed in the mass dissemination of their materials. In this sense, the greatest difference is that while the FWP was interested in individual stor ies as representations of particular communities, Story Corps is interested in individual stories as representations of American individuality. The difference, I would suggest, is largely an emotional one. The FWPs use of stories was part of celebrating the diversity of America. This idea of diversity was based on the various cultural groups which make up the country. Tales of Appalachian farmers were meant to give us a sen se of life as an Appalachian farmer, and those of Southern blacks were meant to give us a sense of Southern blacks. Although the intent of the project was to portray these stories in a celebratory and cosmopolitan light, the stories were not meant to make us feel akin to the narrator. In StoryCorps, on the other hand, the stories are not contextualized within particular cultural groups or historic events. They are uniquely individual. What draws us to them is their emotional power, and ability to provoke deep empa thy with the narrator. Isay, on the jacket cover to Listening is an Act of Love, suggest that the stories connect us to real people and their livesto their experiences of profound joy, sadness, courage, and despair, good times, and hard times. More interested in an emotionally moving tale than a contextualized and representative life history, StoryCorps is really about providing snapsh ots of a life. As far as its relationship to oral history, it is part of the FWP legacy of celebrating the ordinary. The edited format, the high fidelity audio, and the context of the project are in the end a celebration of the power of story. 20

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Regardless of whether it meets the definitiona l guidelines, StoryCor ps is proof of the growing importance of oral history work in popular culture. Oral History projects are popping up all over the country, conducted and appreciated by people outside the academy. So diverse are these projects that it will be and already is difficult to provide any definitional clarity to the discipline; the Oral History Association, however, continues to try1. And although the scholarly community may continue their debate about what is and what is not oral history, it seems unlikely that public projects will have any interest in an official stamp of approval. And maybe that doesnt matter, because at its heart recording the stories of others is an act of respect. As technology improves both in function and affordability, and public oral history becomes increasingly popular, it will be interesting to see the innovative ways these stories are displayed. Despite all this change, the act of listening is timeless. 1 The Oral History Association continues to revise the Principles and Best Practices of the discipline. The most recent revision was in October, 2009. 21

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The Sarasota Oral History Project The Sarasota Oral History Project, which bega n in 2009, was founded three-quarters of a century after the first oral history project, the FWP. Much has changed since that time, as the previous chapter conveyed. In this chapter, I will describe the Sarasota Oral History Project, contextualizing the project within the larger discipline of oral history. When John Ryan, an Employee of the Sarasota County Water Resource Division, decided that someone needed to capture the stories of Sarasotas past before they are entirely forgotten, he had not coupled this idea with Oral History. It w asnt until he brought the idea to Jodi Pracht, the Sarasota County Archeologist and a New College anthropology alum, that she put the oral history label on it. She also decided she liked the idea enough to help see it to fruition. Jodi contacted New College in search of a professor willing to sponsor the idea. She caught the interest of Erin Dean, a Cultural Anthropology professor. Erin Dean decided to sponsor the project as a tutorial during the next semester, fall of 2009. Somewhere around the same time, I caught wind of the idea. Intrigued, my first thought was to give Jodi a call. We spoke for some time about the vision for the project. It was during that telephone conversation that I proposed the idea of creating an edited audio slideshow along with the written transcriptions of the interviews. Afte r seeing some examples of the proposed format, she agreed that it seemed like a good way to go, and so did Erin. The next semester, Erin taught the tutorial, dividing the class into two sections. The first half of the semester, we read and discussed the theore tical implications of oral history. During the second half, we created our own oral histories. Each of us did background research on our subjects and their area of expertise before interviewing them. We each completed at least two, but up to five interviews with the subjects. The finished products consist of verbatim transcriptions from the interviews and the audio-slideshows. The transcriptions range from 10 to 30 pages. The audio-slideshows are seven to eight minute long pieces made from edited segments of the interviews and relevant 22

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photographs. Both the transcriptions and the audio-slideshows can be viewed at www.sarasotaoralhistory.com The website is hosted by the Sarasota Water Atlas and the transcriptions are also archived in the Sarasota history center. The countys involvement in the project is multi-faceted. Most importantly they direct the types of stories we tell. One way they have done this is by compiling a list of prospective interview candidates. Although we are not required to choose from this list, the majority of subjects have come from the list. Furthermore, the list sets the tone of the types of people we should interview for the project. Beyond directing the types of stories we tell, the county has also logistically supported the project. They have provided audio equipm ent, and scanners necessary for capturing the interviews and collecting photographs for the a udio slideshows. The county has also supported us through granting us internship s. As interns we are have access to the Sarasota History Center where we can perform background research on our subjects to better inform our interviews. The people from the county have also or ganized activities designed to help acquaint students with the lay of the land. Each student, for instance, has the opportunity to take a helicopter ride. The helicopter ride is both a great way to see Sarasota from above, and also to get useful photographs for the audio slideshow. Student s can also take a canoe trip along the Myakka River with the parks biologist. Aside from supporting students in the collection of the stories, the county has also played a major role in publicizing the project. At the end of the first semester, John, Jodi and a few other people from the county came to watch the completed audio-slideshows. They were so impressed that they arranged to have them presented public ly at the Selby library in downtown Sarasota. The presentation was a success. Over one hundred pe ople attended, including all of the interview subjects. Everyone seemed to enjoy the project, ma ny expressed interest in seeing it continue, and some even offered us suggestions for othe r interesting people we should interview. 23

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The tutorial has just completed its third se mester and has maintained a very similar format throughout. As the project continues, how ever, it is important to examine it critically. Drawing from the History of Oral History section of the thesis, I will look more closely at the SOHP to determine where it fits into the great er spectrum of oral history work. This chapter draws from my personal experience with the project. This inquiry will serve as a basis for better understanding the SOHP, and providing suggestions for how it might be improved in the future. The Purpose of the SOHP The SOHP is distinct on an institutional leve l in that it is governed by three cooperating but distinct parties: the people from Sarasota County, New College Professor Erin Dean, and the New College students who collect the interviews. E ach of these three tiers has had some level of influence on the direction of the project. However, no direct mission statement explicitly describes the purpose of our work and the basis behind our methodological decisions. The intent of the project is further complicated in that each student is given the authority of deciding who they wish to interview and how they decide to represent them. Because the SOHP is a collaborative effort, and I did not feel comfortable solely articulating its mission, I decided to see how those involved understood it. Erin Dean, John Ryan, Amanda Domingues and student interviewers Davi d Anderson and Anna Hamilton provided their understandings of the project. Erin Dean: For me, the mission of the SOHP is to record the varied and unique experiences of Sarasota residents in or der to 1) include multiple voices in the public and archival historical record of the community and 2) provide learning opportunities for students. John Ryan: The mission of the SOHP is to raise the awareness of the Sarasota community about the water-related natural resources of the area. In the decades 24

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within memory a lot of things have ch anged here like declines in fisheries and changing lifestyles related to water. People need to know that a crazy abundant bay is the natural order of things a nd that we shouldn't settle for less. David Anderson: Assuming the mission and the actual effect of the project are the same, I would say the mission is to record the living knowledge and remembered past of Sarasota and its ecosystems while highlighting important ecological issues and introducing important actors in the community. It also provides students the opportunity to learn new methods of documentary and inspires appreciation for the city they live in. All of the sub-mi ssions seem to fall under the larger mission of drawing attention to the local. Anna Hamilton: My feeling about the Sarasota Oral History Project is that it intends to chart not only the physical evolution Sarasota's water bodies, but the ways of life and memories that surround them. For me, the project is crucial in fostering understanding of how the management and treatment of these resources affect those around us as well as future generations. Amanda Dominguez: The Sarasotas Oral History Project is a way of celebrating Sarasotas rich history and the long standing connection between its residents and the water. Our goal is to provide a glimpse into what life in Sarasota was like in years past through the eyes of those who lived it. It is our desire to preserve those memories in the hope that future gene rations will be able to understand and appreciate the many facets of Sarasotas origins and all that makes it the unique town that it is today. While the project may be understand differently by the different people involved, it achieves cohesion through its context and format. The SOHP is a public project. By this I m ean that we seek to broadcast our work to a large public audience. This goal is exemplified by the large presentations weve held at both the Selby Library in downtown Sarasota and at Mote Marine. We also share our work on the internet where all can see it. Beyond just sharing our work with the public, we format it for easy consumption. The audio-slideshows, at only seven or eight minutes long, are designed to be entertaining and also to fit the Youtube attention-span. The fact that our work goes beyond just creating an archival record suggest s a deeper social or political intention. As Paul Thomson said 25

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in his often-cited book The Voices of the Past, All history depends on its social purpose (1978: 1). The social purpose of the SOHP, however, is not so clear. The purpose of the work, although it is discerned differently by the different participants, can be understood through the context of the project. The guiding boundaries of the project relating to Sarasota watersheds na turally incline our work towards issues of the environment. It is difficult, for instance, to tell the story of a l ong-time fisherman without also telling the story of the destruction of our fisheries. In many ways this aspect of the project is intentional. It was the power of story which inspired John Ryan, specifically its power to bring about environmental change. When John Ryan explains th e inspiration of the project, he tells the story of a Sarasota old-timer who talks about how there used to be so many fish in the bay that they would just jump into your boat. He adds that this was not so long ago. For John, this is important because it conveys what it means to have a hea lthy ecosystem. If people know that the Sarasota bay used to have so many fish that they would just jump into your boat, then they also know that there is much work to do done in restoring it to that way. The environmental focal point of the project is further reinforced by our affiliation with the Sarasota Water Atlas, where the online content of our project is hosted. The stated objective of the Water Atlas is: to provide a comprehensive data resource, eventually covering the State of Florida, that helps citizens and scientists alike make informed decisions concerning our vital water resources (Water Atlas 2010). Many of the oral histories that have come out of this project largely fit th at objective. They provide a remembered account of the environmental changes to Sarasotas watersheds, acting as a compendium to more empirical studies of environmental change. The idea of utilizing these oral histories to help citizens and scientists alike make informed decisions concerning our vital water resources is a complicated one. The oral histories are not science, and we do not attempt to authenti cate what subjects tell us. Nonetheless, the perspectives and memories can help create a clearer picture of Sarasotas 26

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environmental history and how residents experienced it. Furthermore, that picture can be useful in informing decisions. While some of the stories might be useful for this purpose, we do not limit our scope to stories of environmental change. Constructing a Portrait of the Past In the end, students decide whose story they want to tell, and it is those stories which define the intent of the project. We provide a mouthpiece through which subjects may voice their life lessons. So far these lessons have largel y revolved around Sarasotas water resources. However, life histories are also much broader. As oral historians, it is our goal to be as thorough as possible, capturing as much as we can about an individuals life. The project has, therefore, had a tendency to expand beyond the initial fo cus of describing Sarasotas water resources, delving into the greater history of Sarasotas past. Although constructing a portrait of Sarasotas past may never have been an explicit intention of the SOHP, it has become a byproduct. Furthermore, it is an element which we should be aware of. Stories about the past can have great power. They construct our communitys narrative and define its identity, even without intending to do so. As the SOHP continues, therefore, we must examine what it means to c onstruct the portrait of our communitys past. This idea of creating a portrait of a communitys past goes all the way back to the time of the FWP, and it continues today in the work done by the StoryCorps project. Although the scale, scope, and context of the SOHP are much different than both of these projects, the shared idea of creating a portrait of the past merits a discussion. For both the FWP and StoryCorps, the efforts are tied to part of the larger goal of what Benedict Anderson called forming an imagined community. The stories are framed as American stories, and are part of building a shared Ameri ca identity. A celebratory treatment of the stories supports that intention. Although it is less clear what type of portrait the SOHP is creating, we are similarly prone to a celebratory treatment of our work. 27

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For the FWP, the celebratory nature of th e project was designed to reimagine a more egalitarian American identity. It did that by cel ebrating the various cultural groups which inhabit the country. StoryCorps imagines a world where perfect communication is possible amongst all people. For the SOHP, we create celebratory depictions of the past as a way of imagining a more environmentally healthy landscape. One of the ways we have done this is by depicting Sarasotas more abundant past. As John Ryan said, were inte rested in the stories that make you go WhoaI cant believe it was like that. My first project for instance, told the story of life on Longboat Key during the first half of the century. It depict ed an uninhabited landscape, rich in abundance and full of adventure. Anybody who lives in Sarasota now knows that Longboat Key is completely developed, with one condo complex after another filled with snowbirds during the winter and lying vacant the rest of the year. Its incredible that a place, which only fifty years ago was completely wild, is now so completely deve loped that you can hard ly find a public beach access. Seven of the eleven completed audio-slideshow s are indicative of the celebratory nature of the SOHP. For Johnnie Walker, stories of the bays abundance during his childhood, versus what it is today, teach us about the danger s of overdevelopment and overfishing. Although Johnnys depiction of the past offers clear lessons for today, for some stories the lessons are less evident. Karen Bell tells stories of a vibr ant fishing community whose way of life was dramatically altered by fishing regulations during the 1980s. For Karen, these stories are not necessarily meant to evoke a political response. Th e stories, however, are important because they are part of our communitys narrative. Including them in the narrative is in itself an act of celebration. But it is also important because they help form our communitys identity. We tell these stories as part of the process of what Benedict Anderson calls: imagining our community. Whereas Anderson ties this process to the creation of a national identity, the SOHP is using it to create Sarasotas identity. In both cases the communities are imagined, at least in the sense that it would not be possible to know everyone in the community. 28

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In Imagined Communities, Anderson described how capitalism and the invention of the mechanized printing press during the early 1500s were integral to the development of large-scale imagined communities. Before the invention of the printing press, books were exclusively written in Latin, a language reserved for religious and scholarly classes. Even for these classes, it was only spoken as a second language (Anderson 1983: 38 ). Aside from being unable to read the books, the general public would have also been una ble to afford them. The development of the printing press, during the early 1500s, change d that, allowing books to be cheaply massproduced. The logic of capitalism encouraged publishers to begin printing books in more common vernaculars so that they could be sold to a wider public. The mass-printing of books helped universaliz e language, and in turn caused the fatality of linguistic diversity (Anderson 1983: 43). Book printers did not try to print in each of the dialects of pre-print Europe, but developed particular print languages which could encompass larger sections of people. The print languag es soon became the basis for easy communication between people whose varying dialects had once pr evented such exchange. The result, Anderson claims, was an enlarged sense of connectedness, and the embryo of the nationally imagined community. Today, television, radio and the internet, wh ich can broadcast to an even wider public than print, help to form this sense of connect edness. The Sarasota Oral History Project takes advantage of the internet to share our audio-s lideshows to a wide public. The narratives are meant to communicate a sense of connectedness; they provide a window into the past, and portray that we exist as part of a much longer narrative. The emotionally gripping power of the audioslideshow format is helpful in conveying this. The Audio Slideshow The audio slideshows are approximately seven minute-long pieces. They consist of edited audio interposed with photographs. In many ways, they have been the focal point of the SOHP. 29

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They are the most prominent aspect of the website, and it is the audio-slideshows which are shown during the presentations. However, while the audio-slideshow has brought public interest to the project, the format is novel within oral hi story. A closer examination will reveal why weve chosen to use this medium and how it fits into the greater discipline of oral history. The idea to use the audio-slideshow format for the project was proposed by David Anderson and me. Our first exposure to the medi um was an audio-slideshow produced on the New York Times website during the lead-up to the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing. The piece was about table tennis culture in China. The fo rmat was very simple: photos of Chinese people playing table tennis overlaid with the sound of the balls tick tocking on the tables. The story was told with simple captions describing the extent of the sports popularity in China. Although the entire piece was less than two minutes long and with minimum narrative guidance the effect was powerful. When we heard about the idea for the Sarasota watershed oral history project, David and I immediately realized that the audio slideshow w ould be an ideal format for the project. For one thing we believed the audio slideshows would have the potential to attract public attention. As opposed to a written transcription, which was previously suggested for the project, audio slideshows are designed to be short and viscerally stimulating. Furthermore, we believed that the audio slideshows, even over other multimedia form ats, can be both emotionally powerful and also user friendly in terms of production. Susan Sontag, in her book On Photography describes why photography can be more emotionally effective than video. As opposed to video, photos, she claims, represent a neat slice of time (1979: 17). For Sontag this is im portant because people are more capable of remembering a photograph than the series of images contained in a video. Videos are more difficult to retain, claims Sontag, because each [image] cancels its predecessor (1979: 18). The importance of photography, however, goes beyond merely its ability for gripping the psyche. Photos can also act to confirm a re presentationa quality Sontag attributes to the 30

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popularly accepted notion that photography captures reality (6). Since its invention, photographers have used this affect to their a dvantage. Sontag cites the example of the Farm Security Administration which took dozens of photographs of farmers until finally capturing the desired poverty, light, dignity, texture, exploita tion, and geometry (6). While Sontag finds some fault with the idea that photography represents reality, she also acknowledges that photography is an important tool for confirming events. Journalists for instance, use the medium to confirm what might otherwise go unnoticed. An extreme exampl e, are the photographs of Auschwitz and other concentration camps which continue to play an important role in reminding us of the human potential for committing atrocities. In terms of the audio slideshows used in th e Sarasota oral history project, photographs play an important role in validating the oral test ament of the narrator. In my first oral history project, for instance, photographs of Longboat key at the turn of the century confirm that it really was the uninhabited landscape described by the na rrator. But more than just confirming the accuracy of the narrators story, photographs can help viewers imagine a different place or time. In some cases this has been done with photographs outside of the time period described by the narrator. The story David Anderson produced a bout Bob Johnson, for instance, utilized nature photography that he took along the Myakka River to coincide with Bob Johnsons story of the political history of the river. Although the photogra phs did not literally confirm the story, they did help illustrate the beauty of the river, and in this way maybe they helped convince viewers that the river was worth fighting to protect. Aside from being a powerful way to tell stories, the audio slideshow format has the added benefit of being relatively easy to use. In terms of equipment all that is needed is an audio recorder, a camera, and an audio editing program The act of audio recording is also less obtrusive than video, since the equipment is us ually discreet. But possibly the biggest benefit of audio is that it is much easier to work with in the post-production phase than video. Audio can be cut and spliced in a seamless fashion. This is much trickier with video, where discontinuity in the 31

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image can be very distracting. For me, the most difficult aspect of creating the audio slideshows has been finding ways to couple the audio with the photographs in a way that tells a coherent story. In the end, the products are largely indica tive of the aesthetic sensibilities of the student. The eight minute pieces we produce are generally cut down from two or more hours of audio. Invariably this process places a great degree of authority in the hands of the students. Audio editing is a potentially powerful too l; audio can be cut and spliced without evidence of manipulation. The voice can be filtere d in any number of ways, sped up, or even slowed down. The only real limitation seems to be the skill of the operator. Aside from the precaution regarding the manipulation of the speak ers voice and the meaning of their words, there have not been formal guidelines about how we should edit the pieces. Each of us has a different way of creating the audio slideshows. Not only does each student have varying skills and sen sibilities, but each subject represents different challenges. I know each of the four audio slideshows I created were all much different from the others, with each consecutive piece building upon the skills and ideas I developed throughout the process. In this next section of the thesis I will briefly describe the four different oral histories I completed over the course of the project, charting my development in terms of the use of the audio slideshow. Personal Evolution The first oral history I did for the SOHP was with Tom Mayers. Although I knew about Tom previous to the project, he was also listed by the county as a prospective interview candidate. Toms story was of interest to the proj ect because his family has a long legacy here in Sarasota. He lives on a piece of property on the northern tip of Longboat Key called Lands End. The property has been in his family since the turn of the twentieth century. On my first visit to Toms house, I decided to leave the audio recorder at home. He gave me the tour of the property, we talked about the project and I learned a little bit about his familys 32

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history here in Sarasota. When I came back to in terview him, he had already thought of some of the stories he wanted to share, and had even brought a photo album with incredible photographs going all the way back to the turn of the cen tury. The interview process consisted mainly of turning on the audio recorder and letting Tom tell his stories. Although I asked him to clarify a few things, I spoke very little during that first interview. After the interview was over, Tom and I spent some time looking through his photo collection, which he had digitized. He sent me home that night with a memory card full of beautiful photographs. In preparation for the second interview, I made a slideshow out of the photographs, and prepared specific questions based on them. For that interview I went through the slideshow with Tom and asked him to let the photographs inspire stories. This technique, at least in Toms case, resu lted in great material for an audio slideshow. Because the stories he told were often inspired by specific photographs, it was quite easy to couple the audio and photos in the post-produc tion phase making for a very coherent audio slideshow. The second oral history project I did was about Thomas Blue Fulford, a commercial fisherman who has lived in the fishing village of Cortez his whole life. I found out about Blue through Tom Mayers who introduced me to him. Similar to my work Tom, I didnt bring a recorder for our first meeting where I explai ned the project and asked him if he had any photographs. I realized during my first recorded interview with Blue how relatively easy my experience with Tom had been. Whereas with Tom stories seemed to flow without provocation, with Blue there was a certain reserve and hes itancy to open up. Many of my questions were brushed aside, or answered with short responses. Although I was a bit disheartened by my first interview, I was determined to keep trying. A few days later, when I returned for a sec ond interview, Blue was in better spirits and we both felt more comfortable with each other. I realized from this experience that with some people it can take time to develop a comfor table and communicative rapport. During this 33

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interview, we spent some time going through Blues photo album. Interestingly, the slideshowbased interview did not work the way it had with Tom. One of the problems was that Blue would always refer to the photograph when describing a story. While the stories were coherent for me they did not translate into something that coul d be used in the audio slideshow. Nonetheless, realizing that it would take time to develop a ra pport with Blue, I decided to continue meeting with him over the next few weeks. Over the cour se of the interview process, I met with Blue a handful of times, which gave him a chance to think about stories he might want to share for posterity. The post-production process for the Blue pi ece was much more difficult than for Tom Mayers. For one, Blues photo collection was much more limited. I augmented it with photos I collected from the Cortez Historical Society. Alth ough I ended up with a decent array of photos, I didnt necessarily have photos correlating to all of Blues stories. In the audio editing phase I attempted to choose excerpts which I could support with photographs, even if they were not literal to the story being told. With Blues piece, I also attempted to capture certain aspects of his day-to-day lifestyle. At least four of the half dozen times I visited Blues house, he was in the process of making a cast net. This was impressive not just because he is in his late 70s, but also because he only has one leg (he lost the other in a fishing accident). I want ed to capture this aspect of his life in the audio slideshow, because although it wasnt historical, it is an important part of Blues personality. The audio-slideshow opens and also closes with phot ographs I took of Blue making a cast net. The third oral history I completed is about George Luzier, an eighty-six year old wooden boat builder. I was introduced to George, like Bl ue, through Tom Mayers. For George I think it was particularly important to be formally intro duced. He has a reluctance to be interviewed, and probably would not have agreed to do so if it were not for Toms recommendation of me. During my first meeting with George, much like the prev ious two subjects, I decided to meet before recording an interview. I realized during that fi rst meeting that George was going to be the most 34

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challenging interview candidate to date. He is a very modest and quiet man, who is very expressive without actually talking much. When I showed up to do my first interview w ith George, my fear was validated. George skimmed over stories and was generally hes itant to say anything which might sound selfaggrandizing. For instance, although George is one of the most renowned boat builders in Florida, he would never admit it, or even hint at it. A lthough George answered my questions, I could tell from his responses that he was only doing it as a favor to me and to Tom. When I turned off the recorder, George and I took a little tour of the shop and immediately he opened up, talking about the tools and techniques of boatbuilding. I rea lized I would have to change my technique. When I returned for my second interview, I decided to do a tour of the shop. Instead of asking George questions about his childhood, or p assion for building boats, I asked him what his favorite tool was and other questions like that. Ge orge pulled out an electric planer he had owned for fifty years and told me stories about it. The interview lasted for a couple hours, as he slowly took me through his shop and told me various boa tbuilding stories, while also explaining how boats used to be built. The interview from the t our of his shop was the diametric opposite of the first one. Although he was hesitant to sit in his o ffice and talk about the past, he was enthusiastic to talk about boatbuilding. After meeting with George a handful more times, I realized that in order to represent George I would have to drastically reconsider the format of his audio slideshow. Whereas in the previous two pieces I had focused on the subjects history, for George I wanted to capture the feeling of being in his presence. In order to do th is, I had to reevaluate the notion of narrative arc. In my other pieces the stories had flowed chronologically, appropriate since the subjects narrated their lives according to a timeline. Since George didnt do this, I needed a way to format the audio slideshow in a coherent way, knowing that viewers expect some sort of narrative arc. I decided to design the audio slideshow to feel as though you are walking through Georges shop with him. The piece starts with Ge orge in his office pointing at photographs of the 35

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various boats he has built. Using captions, I introduce him, telling viewers when and where he was born. The next part of the audio slideshow is a tour of his shop, where he talks about some of his various tools. In the last section he is thumbing through a photo album which depicts the stages of building a boat. His last comment in the audio slideshow is him answering a question about the future of boatbuilding. Georges comme nt is I dont know, and Im not going to worry about it. The fourth oral history I did was a major di vergence from the other three. I decided to challenge myself to capture a place, rather than just a person. I chose as my place the Sarasota Wastewater Treatment Plant (SWWTP). I chose the SWWTP out of a long standing fascination with our municipalities, and the desire to explore th is curiosity. Going into this particular project, I didnt have a clear vision as to what my finished piece would look like. My goal was simply to interview as many people as possible and to create a piece which, like Georges, captured the essence of the place. One of the other reasons I chose the SWWTP was because everyone uses this resource and yet most people know very little about it. Throughout the course of the SWWTP project I interviewed four different employees of the SWWTP. They each told me about their day-to -day activities at the plant, and their personal history with the job. Interviewing people in a professional setting presented certain challenges I had not previously experienced. Most of the candida tes, for instance, were hesitant to say things that could endanger their job, preferring to talk about the logistical aspects of the plant. This was problematic because I was interested in gatheri ng the types of stories which represent personal experience in the plant. One of the interview ca ndidates, Dave Perez, did offer this type of perspective. Although my original intent was to incorporate multiple voices into the final audio slideshow, I eventually decided to only use audio from the Dave Perez in terview. The interview came from a full tour of the plant led by Dave Dave was very good at explaining in an 36

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understandable way, the operations of the plant. He was also very good at inter-mixing his logistical explanations with stories that brought out the human element. My final audio slideshow is formatted as a tour of the plant, starting with the finished product (the treated water) and ending with the incoming sewage. Although there are some descriptions of how the water is treated, the real purpose of this piece is not to explain how the operation works. Instead, I was more interested in making viewers feel as though they are at the plant. I intersperse clips of Dave speaking w ith sounds of the plant: bubbling water, clanking metal, and droning pumps. Much like the piece I made about George, this piece breaks away from traditional notions of narrative arc. But beyond just breaking away from the narrative arc, this piece also breaks away from the theme of the SOHP. Although the pi ece is narrated by Dave Perez, the story is really not about him. Furthermore there is very little historical information provided about the plant. For these reasons Erin Dean and I decide d that it probably should not be included in the project. Nonetheless it is an important part of my thesis and was an interesting exercise for me in developing my skills with the audio slideshow fo rmat. Furthermore, like each of my other three pieces, it showed me just how unique each interv iew subject is, and the different challenges presented. Not only are subjects all very different, but so are the approaches used by the different student interviewers. In the next section I will look at some of the underlying ideals regarding our treatment of the subjects. Shared Authority To better understand our treatment of the stories, we might look more closely at the underlying sensibilities of the project. The SOHP is guided, like many contemporary oral history projects, by the ideal of shared authority. At th e root of this approach is the assumption that we must move away from the historian-as-authority and informant-as-subject. The scholar Judith Stacey describes how the shared authorit y approach is conducive to, an egalitarian 37

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research process characterized by authenticity, r eciprocity, and intersubjectivity between the researcher and her subjects (Blee 1993: 322). Shared authority is deeply engrained in the SOHP approach. For one thing, the large age gap between the student researcher and the subject makes it highly doubtful that subjects would view us as authorities. At least in my experience, the more likely dynamic is that the subject, as an elder, will take a natural authority. This dynamic is further reinforced by our position as amateur researchers rather than professionals. The practitioners of the FWP, for similar reasons, found it easy to build trusting relationships with their subjects; not only were they amateur researchers but they were, like the people they in terviewed, living in po verty. And they were, therefore, not viewed as authorities. Studs Terkel, who is by no means an amateur researcher, claims that his clumsiness and ineptitude is his biggest asset (Terkel 1997: 124). He explains, Well, would you be frightened of a little old gu y who wants to tape-record a conversation with youand he cant even work his tape recorder? (1997: 124). The SOHP achieves a shared au thority not just through the dynamics of our interactions, but also through the methodological design of the project. For instance, our consent form explicitly gives subjects the author ity to withdraw from the project at any time, even during the interview and also to remove a portion of the inte rview. In each of the oral histories that Ive completed, the participants have taken advantage of this authority, removing sections they did not want included. Another way we share authority is by asking our participants for suggestions of other people we should interview. The first pers on I interviewed, for example, recommended both the second and the third people I interviewed. It is important to recognize how the shared authority approach can be useful, but it is equally important to recognize its limita tions. Lorraine Sitzia, in an essay called A Shared Authority: An Impossible Goal recounts some of the problems she faced in attempting to utilize a shared authority approach. As explained in the first chapter, she descri bes the incredible time38

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commitment shared authorship entailed. She also describes how she didnt feel comfortable being critical of the narrator. Although the format of the SOHP does not incl ude a critical analysis of the interview, it is also true that our commitment to shared au thority is not conducive to such an analysis. Furthermore, even in this thesis, I would feel uncomfortable critically analyzing a particular interview. I would say, however, that offering s ubjects shared authority has, in my experience, been potentially problematic. For one, it can mean an increased time commitment. More problematic, though, is the extent of their authority. For instance, one of my subjects continues to edit his transcript eight months after the inte rview, even though the piece has already been published on the internet. Although he is technically given the authority to make changes at any time, it is also asking a lot from the practitioners. Fu rthermore, the extent of the edits can also be problematic. For instance, the same subject not only crosses out sections, but he also changes the wording as well. Whereas the transcript format, because it is easily edited, is conducive to a shared authorship, the audio slideshow is not. This is la rgely because it would be too difficult to edit the audio slideshows according the desires of the partic ipants. And so while we have given subjects the authority to remove sections of their transcript, we have limited their authority with the audio slideshows. One provision we do make is that we do not include audio which the subject has explicitly removed from the transcript. So far Ive heard nothing but compliments from participants regarding the audio s lideshows. This is in part due to the celebratory treatment of the material. The tendency towards the celebratory is systematic to the shared authority approach. Kathleen Blee discusses this problem in the context of an oral history project she did with the Ku Klux Klan, one of the rare instances of a subject group specifically chosen for their inglorious past. Blees choice stands out because it doesnt conform with the legacy left by the FWP, of bringing to light underrepresented groups. Blee explains that the egalitarian approach, of 39

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building repertoire through trust and mutual respect does not lend itself to studying groups with an unsavory past (Blee 1993: 322). Blee, fi nds that the product from such an approach generally sheds a positive light upon the subject. Blees interviews with the Ku Klux Klan, for instance, focus on their great camaraderie, avoidi ng the more offensive topics such as racism and bigotry. Although the SOHP, unlike Blees proj ect, chooses subjects whose lives we wish to celebrate, like Blee, our egalitarian approach, act s to reinforce the celebratory nature of our project. Is this work considered oral history? I have, thus far, examined some of the underlying theoretical assumptions of the SOHP approach. I will now look at whether the SOHP fits within the guidelines of oral history. This inquiry is based on a critical analysis of StoryCor ps published by the Oral History Association, which ponders whether StoryCorps, according to their definition, is truly oral history (Abelmann, et al 2009). In many ways, I have found this criticism to be applicable to the SOHP. One of the criticisms of StoryCorps was the abbreviated nature of the document. In the OHA guidelines it says that you must provide an in-depth account of personal experience and reflections, with sufficient time allowed for the narrators to give their story the fullness they desire. For StoryCorps, the interview process is s hort and the edited product is even shorter. It by no means attempts to capture an in-depth account. The audio-slideshows produced by the SOHP would likely face a similar criticism. The audio-slideshows are designed with the purpose of being concise and entertaining. They do not, therefore, fulfill the in-depth expectations of the Oral History Association. However, I would defend that while the audio-slideshows may not be sufficiently thorough, our interview-process attempts to be. Unlike StoryCorps, where the interview process lasts less than an hour, we generally meet with subjects two or three or even more times, seeking to collect as much information as we can about their life experiences. Furthermore, transcriptions of the interviews, in their entirety, are publically available alongside the audio slideshows. 40

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The pieces published by StoryCorps were criticized for leaving an invisible editing process. The concern was that schol ars have no way of determining how StoryCorps edits their work. The editing choices of the SOHP audio-slideshows, however, are easily traceable through an examination of the complete transcriptions. Examining projects like StoryCorps through a scholarly lens may reveal some of their disciplinary shortcomings. However, such criticis ms are also largely misplaced. StoryCorps does not strive to be a useful scholarly document. Rather, it fits within the realms of public oral history, seeking to reach a large public audience. And in this aspect it is wildly successful, reaching a larger public audience than any other oral history project. This an especially pertinent point in light of the growing trend of oral histor y projects which seek to garner public attention. The challenge for these projects has been finding wa ys to balance scholarly objectives while also producing work that attracts the interest of the public. David Brooke Anderson, in his oral history thesis, observes that public oral history projects are generally too cumbersome to attract significant public attention (2010: 5). Anderson, in his own work, resolved this probl em by providing shortened and edited audio segments which were enjoyable to listen to and could be navigated on an attractive and easily operated website. Whatever the solutions may be, it seems imperative in public oral history projects to balance oral history objectives while also arranging the material in an accessible and interesting manner. The opportunities for the presentation of the p ast are vast. Audio recording equipment is getting better and cheaper by the year, and the intern et allows anyone to broadcast their work all over the world for free. It is a new world, and one in which the scholarly community can no longer protect the bounds of their discipline. People can put whatever title they want on a project with little retribution. StoryCorps stands as the most prominent example of this, self-titling their work as an oral history project, despite not necessar ily fulfilling the objectives of the discipline, at least as it is designated by the Oral History Association. 41

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We might resolve some of these issues by considering public oral history and scholarly oral history as two separate entities. As Anderson points out, combining the two generally has awkward results. Garnering public attention with completely raw audio recordings simply doesnt fit the realities of todays attention span. At the same time, edited multimedia pieces are not regarded as proper source material by scholars. The SOHP is unique because it offers both scholarly and public components. The inclusion of full transcriptions represents a more scholarly understanding of oral history, abiding with the formal guidelines of the discipline. The audio slideshow, on the other hand, represents a more public component of the project, designed to inform while also entertaining viewers. Past-Participant Interviews As we navigate the opportunities in public or al history, we should also remember to address issues of ethics and representation. Since most the ethical concerns revolve around the interview subjects, I decided it would be informa tive to see what they think about the project. By the time of these interviews, the SOHP had complete d twelve oral histories. Ideally I would have spoken with each of the subjects, however because of time constraints I ended up only interviewing six. The six people I interviewed were chosen on the basis of convenience; they either lived close to me, or had the most open schedule. I created a basic list of questions to ask each of the participants (Appendix A). The questions, however, acted more as a template than a script. Utilizing the oral history approach, I delved more deeply into areas that seemed to interest the particip ant. I was interested in better understanding how the participants regarded the pr oject, what they felt was important about it, and what we could do to improve the project. Essen tially, I wanted to get their critical perspective on the work. The interviews lasted approximately 45 minutes. One of the challenges of exploring the SOHP has been trying to place it within the greater scope of oral history. Ive attempted to unde rstand the theoretical and methodological decisions 42

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which inform our project, and the legacy weve dr awn from. Part of the difficulty has been that each of the people involved with the project h as their own individual understanding of the work. The people from the County, Erin Dean, and each of the students have all helped steer the project. The participants have also played an equal if not gr eater role in the shared authority of the project. In the end, it is their story and their values which give meaning to the work. Although articulated in different ways, the overwhelming sense from the six participants I interviewed was that the SOHP was much more than a way of remembering the past. Almost all saw the social and political potential of this kind of work. For some, the project was understood as an opportunity to publicize specific issues. For example, Blue Fulford believes there is a lesson to be learned from his life history. Blue watched legislative changes end the type of commercial fishing which had supported him and his community for over a century. Since then Blue has been an outspoken advocate of sustainable fishing practices. He believes in the importance of educating the public and believes it was a lack of education which led to the destructive legislation2. For Blue, the stories of the past are important because they can influence the future. However, as Blue said, this is only If you can get it out to enough people. During our conversation, Blue put much emphasis on the importance of broadcasting the stories to a wide audience. He was disappointed by the fact that the website doesnt have a way of displaying how many people have visited the project. Although each of the participants has a differe nt cause, the idea of utilizing the stories as a way of affecting change seemed to be a co mmon sentiment amongst them. For Dr. Mary Jelks, the cause is getting more people interested in pr otecting the environment. She gives the example of trying to get people to protect the Florida Panther: It doesnt make sense to them that we will spend a lot of money to try to save some animal that is nearly extinct. Why do that? Theyre about history, theyre about gone. So why spend the money on those things like the panther. Many people dont appreciate how it keeps nature in balance. They dont like to think about that as being an important part of their existence. 2 I would encourage you to read his complete transcription, available at www.sarasotaoralhistory.com. 43

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She goes on to explain how oral history can help: I think its important to educate, to help the community understand why we are doing what we are doing. For Blue Fulford and Dr. Mary Jelks, the SOHP was a mouthpiece for getting their views heard. For them, the success of this work will be measured in how well these ideas are disseminated. What is noteworthy is the significance of the ideas, rather than the life story. In fact, Marys advice for improving the SOHP was to find younger, more vibrant people to get the ideas out there. She gave the example of the a ttractive women that forecast the weather on the television. She explained that, one of my problem s is Im an old lady. My body is not appealing, and delivering my ideas is not easy. Similarly, Blue Fulford suggested that we get a Rush Limbaugh character. Although I am hesitant to read too deeply into these comments, they represent an important distinction. On one hand, the stories can have power because of the informational and ideological content they represen t. This is the view represented by Blue and Mary. Because they thought their messages were th e most important things, they also believed that their ideas might be more effectively comma nded in other hands. A nother way of thinking about the project is that a story is powerful because it represents the life experiences of an individual. A number of the participants confirmed this latter conception of the work. When I asked Archeologist Steve Koski which kind of stories he would like to hear, he said, Its all interesting because its about peoples lives and talking about th eir experiences. The stories, for Steve, need not have an underlying argument. For Paula Bens hoff, however, the importance of stories lies in their ability to compel people. She explained, if I have a park visitor here, I can spew science left and right and bore them to death, but I can tell them the story of a Myakka old-timer and keep them fascinated. Paula went on to explain how these stories can help generate a love for the land, which can make a difference: if people care fo r the land, they will ensure the future of the land. 44

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While it was predictable that participants w ould find the stories, in general, to be important, I was less sure how they would feel about our representation of their personal stories. The general sentiment amongst participants was that the work should be as accessible as possible. For most of the participants, this means producing work that catches peoples attention. Most agreed that this is why the audio-slideshow s were successful. However, there was a common criticism that our transcriptions were too cumbersome to hold anyones attention. When asking Johnny Walker if he had read th e transcripts, he replied, Yeah I read my transcript, and after that I didnt want to read everyone elses. It was too much. This was a common sentiment. For Johnny, the criticism wasnt simply that it was too long, but also that it was too raw. He explained, What I got upset about is that they did every pause, every aw, whatever. When youre stammering between thought s, they wrote those down too. I was like, couldnt they just edit those out, they dont m ean anything. It was hard to read that way. Johnny suggested that we should only include the inte resting sections of the transcriptions. He also thought that it might be a good idea to arrange them into different sections to make it easier to read portions that interest you. Johnnys understanding of the transcripts is based on a very public notion, that the primary consideration should be crafting them for maximum readability. Steve Koski, on the other hand, has a different understanding. He sees the audio-slideshows as the public component and the transcripts as the more in-depth compone nt. In describing how he uses the website, Steve said I first go with the audio-slideshow, and then if I am interested I would go with the transcript. This is not to say that Steve is opposed to editing the transcript. In fact, he said that if we dont edit, There is going to have to be some serious moments of snooze factor. According to this understanding the audio-slides hows might act as an entertaining advertisement for the transcripts. However, Steve also admitt ed that he hadnt actually read any of the transcripts aside from his own. 45

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Although the transcripts may be of interest to some, the audio-slideshow represents the bulk of what is consumed by the past-participan ts on the SOHP website. As Ive described, the seven or eight minute pieces are heavily edited and only contain a very brief portion of the original interview. Since these pi eces represent the focal point of the project, I was interested in better understanding how the participants felt about them. I was particularly interested in how they felt about giving students the authority to manipulate their audio. As I mentioned earlier, all of the particip ants I interviewed felt the editing to be a necessity in capturing the attention of the public. As Steve Koski said, If you read the transcript, there was no Emmy going on there. But when you listen to the Oral History, where she brought things in and edited it, it sounded like I halfway knew what I was talking about. Nonetheless some also acknowledged the danger of being able to radically manipulate the stories. Paula Benshoff explained, you can show this person as an egotistical snob, or you can show this person as very friendly or laid back. For Paula, however, this was an inevitability of the process. She added that its just the way things are. The general feeling from participants, howev er, was that the liberties we took were actually rather minor. Steve Koski explained, Y oure not putting things out of context, youre just arranging them in an orderly fashion, and youve got the photos to work with too. You want to have a sequence of events, and you have some liberty. You take the interview and photographs and you envision the outcome. I think thats some artistic liberty that Im fine with. Karen Bell expressed a similar sentiment She may have done a lot of editing but it was all me, in a more succinct form. Most people wouldnt want to listen to me ramble on for a couple of hours. Blue Fulford, Steve Koski, and Karen Bell a ll expressed that our level of manipulation was minor compared to that taken by journalis ts. Steve explained the difference: When people do a newspaper article, you get misquoted, and some newspaper articles are a real disaster, but I dont see that happening as much in oral history, because you cant misquote someone who is speaking. For Blue, bad experiences with journalists had made him reluctant to take part in the 46

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SOHP. However, Blue, like Steve, was generally satisfied with our representation of him. His only criticism is that he wished it had been longer. That participants were satisfied with the out come of the projects is largely indicative of the students performance. For Paula, the dange r of misrepresentation was mitigated by the quality of the students work. This seemed to be the unanimous sense from all the participants. Karen Bell, in describing her response from the proj ect, said I give Anna a lot of credit because I thought I sounded great. Mary Jelks, expressing a similar sentiment from her experience with David said, He really spent a great deal of time on it. And he tried to do it as well as he could, considering all the difficulties you have with gadge ts and that sort of thing. He did a good job. Beyond just their involvement in editing the in terviews, students played an important role in enabling participants to tell their life stories. Johnny Walker said this of his interviewer: The person that was doing the interview, I could see by her facial expressions that she enjoyed what I was talking about. And whenever I have an audi ence, I can talk. Steve Koski had a similar experience: What made it good was Annas interest in the project and the subject. A lot of my enjoyment was her enjoyment. Beyond just representing subjects in a certain light, the SOHP as an accumulation of stories is also representing the larger community of Sarasota. This notion will direct the type of people we choose to interview in the future. To better inform these decisions, I was curious to know what the past-participants thought of the types of people we included so far and also the types of stories they would like to hear in the future. It was interesting to discover that most of the participants knew one another. This is a result of choosing from some of the more prominent figures in the community. As I conducted my interviews, the extent of this connected soci al circle became quite evident. Johnny Walker said this of the people we interviewed: You had some good people that were very interesting. I know Mary Jelks, and I know Blue Fulford, and I know Buster Longino, I know all these people. So it was interesting to hear some stories from them that I havent heard. I know that these people 47

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were either very colorful in their life, or did some great things in this town. Johnny went on to suggest that we might talk to some of the less celebrated members of the community, I like the idea of you talking to some of these drug runners that werent doing such a good thing. It is difficult to say how the SOHP might use these discussions to further develop the project. For me, it was mainly an experience in corroborating the importance of this type of work. I was pleased to find that all of the subjects I s poke with were honored to have been a part of the project. What was most insightful was that for everyone I interviewed, the most important aspect was the relationships that developed between the subjects and the students. This makes sense, because in the end this is what makes or breaks the project. Further Developing the SOHP My collaboration throughout the entirety of the project has exposed me to both the potential benefits, but also to some of the pitfa lls of the SOHP. Here I will explore some of the concerns I have for the project, and also offer suggestions for how we might better pursue this work. I have previously discussed how the SOHP is creating a portrait of Sarasotas past. Thus far, the composition of this portrait has been largely guided by the different types of water resources weve covered. We have, for instance, a bay expert, a Myakka expert, an off-shore fishing expert, and so on. Their stories, are me ant to tell the greater story of a particular watershed. As we continue with the project, this notion of diversity has proven increasingly problematic. In the projects focus on environmental dive rsity, we must remember to include other notions of diversity. In the first 12 oral histories, for instance, there was not a subject who wasnt white. Furthermore, as was recognized in the past -participant interviews, the subjects seem to inhabit a fairly closed social circuit. Most of the subjects seemed to know one another, or at least know of one another. Part of the reason for this has been our tendency to include the out-spoken 48

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members of our community in the project. This approach, while it certainly has its advantages, also leaves much missing from our portrait of Sarasotas past. The gap in our portrait has been recognized, and we are working to further diversify the types of subjects we speak with. Further divers ifying the composition of our project will require us to examine the project from above, to see which stories are being left out. This will require an ongoing dialogue, but also better ways for recruiting a diverse sampling of people. Diversifying our portrait of the past will require us to reconsider certain aspects of the project. For one, our focus on water resources is limiting. On a methodological level, for instance, we are expected to compile as thorough a record of the subjects life history as possible, which often pushes us beyond the water resource aspect of their life. In fact, this is part of the Oral History Associations guidelines: interviewer s should attempt to extend the inquiry beyond the specific focus of the project to create as complete a record as possible for the benefit of others. Since we often go beyond the water resource focus of the project, then maybe it is unnecessary. The water resource focus has also proven problematic by narrowing the range of prospective subjects. One of the ways it has done this is by pushing us to look for experts on particular watersheds. This tendency has steered us towards the more outspoken and publically recognized members of the community. For instance, our experts on the Myakka River include a tenured park ranger, a senator (whose politi cal maneuvering protected the park), and an environmental activist. In my opinion, our emphasis on expertise is overdone, largely unnecessary, and limiting. To be sure, interviewing these types of community members has its advantages. For one thing, they each have an outstanding life story. It is easy to research their lives and prepare for an interview. They are also generally eloquent and have a strong message they would like to share. While this last point can be advantageous, it can also be problematic. Interviewing experts on their area of expertise generally evokes scripte d answers. The challenge of getting beyond the script, although worthwhile, can prove quite difficult This is not to say we should avoid speaking 49

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with the experts, but rather to take Steve Koski s wisdom to heart, that its all interesting, because its about someones life. Opening up the project to more ordinary citizens of Sarasota would vastly expand our range of prospective candidates. Of course, th e idea of ordinary demands some qualifying. They need not have accomplished any great feat to participate in the project. Simply having been a long term member of the community should qualify them as a prospective candidate. Furthermore, our biggest prerogative should be to interview the oldest members of our community. This point is of particular urgency. Even over the short course of the project, a handful of prospective candidates have passed away. Beyond expanding the diversity of our subjects, we might also work towards expanding the projects exposure to the public. One way we might do this is by finding public venues that could play the audio-slideshows. For instance, I hope to get the Cortez Historical Society to play the pieces Anna Hamilton and I did about Cortez. Other good venues include libraries, history centers, and other local educational institutions If we were willing to abandon the visual component of the audio slideshow, we could also broadcast the work on local radio stations. In fact, David Anderson and I have already played our first pieces on WSLR. Seeing as how successful the first public presentations went, I think it would be beneficial to continue organizing them. Depending on the audience, the public presentations could go beyond simply playing the audio slideshows. We might also invite local old-timers to talk about Sarasotas history or find other ways to contextualize the histories. In each of these examples, the challenge is ge tting more people to feel involved. One way to do this would be to open up the actual producti on of the oral histories outside the New College community. One idea, which I discussed with Johnny Walker, is to extend the project to local high school students. Students would benefit from such an endeavor, learning both about oral history, Sarasotas history, and also gaining u seful documentary techniques. Furthermore, they would actually be creating something for the archiv es, thus benefiting the community at large. 50

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Although implementing such a program would be an enormous endeavor, it would also be a worthy one. Conclusion The opportunities for the SOHP are many. However, as we consider how the SOHP might be improved upon, we should also remember the underlying value of our work. On a basic level, the work is important because it preserves th e stories of the communities past, stories that might otherwise be forgotten. The record of the past created by the SOHP, however, has the potential to go beyond archival or sentimental purposes and serve to strengthen the community itself. Ive discussed, for instance, how stories of the environmental abundance of Sarasotas past can inspire people to work towards restoring it to that state. Making this or other positive changes happen, however, is a cooperative effort and thus requires strong social capital. The SOHP, through connecting and educating our community, is valuable because it can help build that social capital. If building social capital is one of the underlying values of the project, then we might consider how we can better achieve that goal. On e way would be to further integrate the greater community into the project. I suggested in the prev ious section, for instance, that we could begin having high school students perform the oral histories. We might also use the oral histories, like the Cleveland Homeless Project did, to encourage dialogue about community issues. As we consider different ways we might expand the project, we should also remember our commitment to the greater oral history scholarship. To me, this means two things: informing ourselves and our work based on past scholarship and working to expand that scholarship. The SOHP has done a good job of this, fulfilling scholarly objectives, while also incorporating our own creative treatment of the stories through the audio slideshows. To this day, Ive yet to find another oral history project which specifically uses the audio slideshow format. The format, however, has been used in other projects. Furthermore, nearly 51

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every time I look, I find a new and interesting online story project, each with a different format. While most of these do not claim to be oral history projects, they often pursue similar objectives. Most importantly, they represent the human obsession with story. And although the means for telling these stories may change, from the earliest cave paintings to the audio slideshows of today, their appeal is seemingly timeless. Appendix A Questions for Past-Participant interviews 52

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What was your understanding of oral history befo re participating in the Sarasota Oral History Project? Has it changed? Do you remember your initial impression, when you were first approached about the project? How would you describe the interview process? Was it too long? Too short? Did you feel comfortable with the interviewer? Did you get a chance to say what you wanted to say? Why did you choose to participate? Do you think this project has value for Sarasota? How so? What do you think of the soundslide format? How do you think we could improve the project? Did you attend the public presentation of the st ories? Do you think the public presentation is useful? Why? Have you visited the website? If so, did you enjo y it? Do you think other people might enjoy it? How could it be better? What types of stories do you think should be told? Is there anything else you would add? Give me a call if you think of something else. Bibliography 53

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Abelmann, Nancy. Davis, Susan. Finnegan, Cara. Miller, Peggy 2009 What is StoryCorps, Anyways? The Oral History Review 2009, Vol. 36, No. 2, pp. 255. Oxford University Press. Blakey, George T. 2005 Creating a Hoosier Self-Portrait Indiana University Press. Bloomington, Indiana. Blee, Kathleen 1993 Evidence, Empathy and Ethics: Lessons from oral histories of the Klan. In The Oral History Reader (Robert Perks and Alistair Thomas, ed s.): pgs. 322-330. Routledge, London. Bendix, Regina 2000 The Pleasures of the Ear: Toward an Ethnography of listening. Cultural Analysis 1 ( http://socrates.berkeley.edu/~caforum/volume1/vol1_article3.html ) Frisch, Michael 1990 A Shared Authority: Essays on the Craft and Meaning of Oral and Public History State University of New York Press. Albany. 1998 Oral History and Hard Times, A Review Essay In The Oral History Reader (Robert Perks and Alistair Thomas, ed s.): 29-37. Routledge, London. Grele, Ronald J. 1985 (original 1975) Movement without Aim In Envelopes of Sound Greenwood Publishing Co. Chicago. Hirsch, Jerrold 2003 Portrait of America: A Cultural History of the Federal Writers Project University of North Carolina Press, Chapel Hill. James, Henry 54

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1989 (original 1879) Hawthorne. Library of Congress. Washington Kerr, Daniel 2006 (original 2003) We Know What the Problem is in The Oral History Reader (Robert Perks and Alistair Thomas eds): 485-494. Routledge, London. May, Charles E. 1994 Metaphoric Motivation in Short Fiction: In the Beginning was the Story. In Short Story Theory at a Crossroads, eds. Lohafer and Clarey. Jackson, Mississippi. Nevins, Allan 1938 The Gateway to History. Boston, D.C. Oral History Association 2009 Principles and Best Practices for Oral History. ( http://www.oralhistory.org/do-oralhistory/principles-and-practices/ ) Portelli, Alessandro 2006 (original 1979) What Makes Oral History Different in The Oral History Reader (Robert Perks and Alistair Thomas eds): 32-42. Routledge, London. Price, Reynolds 1978 A Palpable God. (find details) Sitzia, Lorraine 2003 A Share Authority: An Impossible Goal in The Oral History Review, Vol. 30, No. 1 (Winter Spring, 2003), pp. 87-101. The Oxford University Press. Smith, Anthony D. 2003 Nationalism and Modernism Routledge, London. 55

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56 Sontag, Susan 1979 On Photography. Delta Publishing Co. New York, New York. Thomson, Alistair 2007 Four Paradigm Shifts in Oral History in The Oral History Review. Winter/Spring edition 2007: P 49-70. Thompson, Paul 1978 The Voice of the Past Oral History. Oxford University Press. Oxford, Londn. Quarles, Chester L. 1999 The Ku Klux Klan and related American racialist and antisemitic organizations McFarland & Company. North Carolina WaterAtlas 2010 http://www.sarasota.wateratlas.usf.edu/ Yow, Valerie 2005 Recording Oral History: A Guide for the Humanities and Social Sciences AltaMira Press. Walnut Creek, California.