Ground UP is about exploring sense of place and asking
questions such as ‘What makes South West Burnley different?’ and ‘What is
special about South West Burnley?’ Studying people and place in South West
Burnley however has its own particular tensions, especially when discussion
moves on to consider change. Unfortunately for some people, asking them what
makes South West Burnley different from other places elicits some very negative
perceptions about the area or rather what it has become.
On Friday afternoon I set out from Coal Clough Library,
camera in hand, with the intention of striking up a few conversations,
capturing some images and maybe, if I was lucky, recording an interview or two.
Susan at the Library was incredibly supportive and offered me a little space
where I could invite people to join me for a chat.
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| Coal Clough Library |
Now, using a digital SLR camera on a residential high street
is not the most subtle approach an ethnographer might employ, but based on
experiences I’d had late last summer, I naively imagined that the camera might
draw a bit of interest. When I was last out and about with a camera, people were sitting on the low walls outside their houses, chatting in groups: quick to
stop me and ask, ‘are you from the council?’ or ‘are you a student?’ but
crucially giving me the seed from which a conversation could grow.
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| Coal Clough Lane |
An icey wind-blown day in March was sadly a less hospitable
environment for idle, playful chats. One resident, we’ll call her June, was
keen to tell me about the changes she had seen over her 30 years in the same house,
and the transformation of the street as her old neighbours moved away to be replaced
by a proliferation of (largely absent) private landlords. It felt to me almost
as if she was struggling to take a position in relation to the shifting social
dynamic, where at once she seemed to condemn the ways of her new neighbours,
she quickly rounded to boast about how the younger men looked after her ‘Are
you OK, we’re going into town, do you need any shopping?’
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| Low walls and front gardens, places to stop and chat |
June clutched her dressing gown around her and sucked on a
cigarette as she stood in the front doorway of her house. ‘Would it be OK if I
came and recorded a chat?’ I asked, but no, instead our conversation occupied a strange space between June's garrulous geniality and her restraint bordering on suspicion. I strained to catch what she had to say, leaning over the wall, the
wind causing tear drops to stream from my face. On three occasions as we
chatted, she shouted greetings to passers-by, ‘Do you know a lot of people
round here?’ I asked. ‘Oh yeah, I know everyone.’
Where to next? I need to be introduced by a person of trust.
First rule of enthnography: gatekeepers.
Steph 08.03.13
