A group of us in the Social Anthropology department at St Andrews have recently started up a collaborative anthropology research group. So far we have only had one meeting in which we shared a few thoughts on what we considered collaborative about research projects we had done or had in the pipeline. I didn't feel that my own research was especially collaborative (besides being anthropology and therefore collaborative by nature), but had gone along to the meeting anyway out of interest. The extent of my collaboration at present (and the present moment is dominated by writing my thesis) is to send drafts of chapters to my informants in the field for them to read, in the hope that they would be able to provide me with useful comments on them which will help me to know whether I am on the right track. Yesterday another member of the research group told me that she thought I was very brave to do this. Instinctively, I felt both that she was right - that I was brave in way because I felt I was taking a risk - but that I should do it more or less without thinking in any case, more or less as a duty to my informants. I shall share here some of my musing on sharing my work with my friends in my research fieldsite in Bolivia.
The first thing is to say that to be participating in a research group concerned with collaboration at all seems to have something absurd to it, because collaboration is so inherent to the research methods of Social Anthropology. Anthropologists need to engage with people for their research. Without collaboration with the research subjects such research is generally (though I acknowledge that of course some people manage to do anthropological research in archives where the subjects of their research have limited ability, to say the least, to engage with the researcher). Engaging in non-collaborative research would have conceivably meant conducting research in secret without permission. But I suppose the question of my permission to do research is one of the reasons I feel compelled to share with people where I can now while I am still writing up my thesis. Even when we as anthropologists have got permission to conduct research, how aware are the participants in this research of how they are going to be portrayed in our writing? Even despite being aware of what it is that we are researching, seeing us take notes on everything, they could still be surprised that we have picked up on a particular utterance. Even though I have made pains to portray none of my informants in such a way that would give offence, I still wonder whether a person may object that I had taken a remark out of context, or worse object to being referred to in my research at all.
One of the main reasons for sharing my writing with the subjects of my research though of course is because I would like to receive comments back. If memory serves me right I have sent chapters of my thesis out to four different people who I knew to varying degrees (certainly I knew three of them quite well). I sent the chapter drafts with the utmost trepidation at what they would think of them. Two of them had asked for me to send chapters, the other two I had sent the chapters to in a more unsolicited fashion simply because they were personally protagonists themselves in these chapters. Frustratingly, three of them have barely given me any comments whatsoever on the chapters that I have sent them. I wondered at their lack of response. I wondered whether they may have taken offence to something. I wondered whether they had even read the drafts.
The one man who has given me comments on my work is my compadre, Feliciano. I probably mention Feliciano in every one of my chapters, I spent quite a lot of time with him during my fieldwork, and conversations with him guided the direction of my thesis. When I met Feliciano I felt like he was a godsend. He always had time to explain to me the history of the province (and his part in it), and to help me to join the dots a little in my research by suggesting to me other people I should talk to in other communities (I would often generally myself to them by telling them that Feliciano had suggested I look them up). He wasn't the only one who did this, though he more than anyone had a hand in directly my research in particular directions whilst I was still in the field. This, for me is collaboration in Anthropology. We also discussed working on a book together as a potential joint project.
The collaborative aspect to my research has at times led me to feel a sense of guilt that I was using the knowledge of others to further my academic career. At times this point would be made to me by others in my fieldwork. There are moments I remember when I would be enjoying the company of friends in the field and then would take out my notebook to note down something interesting that they had said, and would see their discomfort. Worse, I might ask to take a photo, and would be surprised to be told - sometimes by someone I was friendly with - that I should pay (this was infrequent, but not uncommon) because I would use it in my thesis and therefore make money from it myself. At the time I laughed at the idea - writing up seemed so far off - but now as I put those photos in my thesis I feel I understand. The Kallawayas are used to anthropologists showing up periodically, staying a while, a year or two, perhaps returning, and making academic careers from writing about aspects of their culture. It was made clear to me (even before I met the Kallawayas) that many of them view the anthropologists who have worked in Kallawaya communities in a particularly negative light. They seem to regard anthropologists as engaging in a kind of intellectual or cultural theft. This has contributed to my own sense of guilt regarding my use of the material I had gathered from fieldwork. In the Andes the concept of ayni (reciprocity) is important in all aspects of life. It has been expressed to me by people in met in my fieldwork that through my research I was "taking" something, and that I had to give something back. I feel that debt as something which somehow, at some point I have to repay.
Once I returned to the university the collaborative aspect soon felt lost for me. All I had were my notes. I think it took me six months to write anything decent because of the sense of academic guilt which I felt that I had left those collaborative relationships and was taking advantage of the material gathered in fieldwork to write my thesis for what felt like my own benefit. I tried calling several friends I had met in fieldwork and found it difficult to get through to them, and soon lost touch. However, after a year back at university I managed to acquire Feliciano's phone number and was able to send him drafts of my chapters to look at. I feel like I am sending a treasured pet out into the wild to fend for itself when I send him the drafts to read. Although he has now seen two chapters and a paper which I have written, and given me positive feedback on them, I still feel an enormous sense of trepidation at sending Feliciano translations of the next chapters. What happens if he doesn't like or disagrees with a chapter, and I am left wondering whether I should re-write aspects? Perhaps that is why it is brave!
