depiction of the multitasking potential of technology, but during an interview (and probably during a date), you should be fully engaged with the other person.
FIGURE 2.4 Just because you can multitask doesn’t mean you should.
Building Rapport
I often leave an interview with my head slightly swimming, in a state between energized and exhausted. In addition to all the useful information that will impact the project, I’ve just made an intense connection with a new person. I’ve established a rapport with someone. That’s a powerful feeling, and likely as not, my participant is feeling the same way. Our quotidian transaction to learn about breakfast making has turned into something else.
The rapport is what makes for great interviews. You won’t leave every interview walking on a cloud, but getting to that state with your interviewee is something to strive for.
It’s your job to develop that rapport over the course of the interview. By all means, recruit participants who are articulate, outgoing, and eager to be part of the interview, but remember that creating that connection falls to you, the interviewer. As in life, you’ll meet some people who you’ll connect with easily, and others who you’ll have to work hard for. Some of my best interviews have been with people who are visibly uncomfortable or disinterested at the outset.
Be Selective About Social Graces
Your participants have no framework for “ethnographic interview,” so they will likely be mapping this experience onto something more familiar like “having company” (when being interviewed at home) or “giving a demo” (when being interviewed about their work). Sometimes when you visit people in their homes, they will offer you a drink. For years, I resisted taking the drink, trying to minimize the inconvenience I was causing. I was well intentioned but naïve; one time I declined a proffered drink and met an ongoing undercurrent of hostility. The drink offer was made again, so I accepted, and suddenly everything thawed. The issue wasn’t my pursuit or denial of refreshment, it was acknowledging my participant’s social expectations—guests should act like guests. This experience took place in the U.S.; in other parts of the world (say, Japan), these rituals are even more inflexible and failure to adhere to them will likely doom the interview. Be sure that you’re aware of the social expectations in the country in which you conduct your interviews.
In addition to accepting a drink, allow for some small talk as you get settled. But don’t dwell on the chitchat, because your participant may find this confusing.
Be Selective When Talking About Yourself
You are bound to hear stories in the field that you strongly identify with, whether it’s someone’s frustration with a broken part of Windows or their passion for Pre-Code Hollywood. Although it’s important to connect with your participant, it’s not the best idea to get there by sharing your common interest. Remember that the interview isn’t about you. If you also love Pre-Code Hollywood, you may think “OMG! Another fellow Pre-Code Hollywood enthusiast!” But you don’t have to say that! Think about when to reveal something about yourself (and when not to). Putting a “me too!” out there changes the dynamic of the interview. It may work to develop some rapport in a difficult situation, or it may imply you are more interested in talking about yourself than listening to the other person. Although this approach might work in social settings, where “see how interesting I am!” is a way we establish our worth in new situations, it can be detrimental in an interview.
You should definitely talk about yourself if doing so gives the other person permission to share something. As an example, early on in my career I was part of an interview team where my role was to hold the video camera and ask only a few supporting questions. As our participant was telling us about her family and their history, she stopped and looked at both of us and said, “Well, you know, my family is Jewish.” She was hesitant to continue. I piped up, explaining “My family is Jewish as well.” She said to me, “Well, then you understand.” She then turned to my colleague and proceeded to explain the specific details she wanted to convey. I don’t always tell my Jewish interviewees, “Hey, I’m Jewish, too! I have a menorah, too!” but in this case a small revelation gave the interviewee permission to move forward with the interview.
Adventures in Rapport Building
As we rang the doorbell, my colleague and I unconsciously straightened, preparing ourselves for that all-important first impression, that moment when our research participant would come to the door and size us up. We waited for a moment, looking at each other as we heard footsteps, mustering a smile as the inside door opened.
“Hello,” I offered, “Are you Brian?”
As I began to state the obvious, that we were here for the interview, he grunted, opened the screen door, and as we took hold, he turned around and walked back into the house. We glanced at each other and stepped into the foyer. What did we know about Brian? Our recruiting screener told us he was 22, lived with his parents and brother, and was employed part-time. The rest would be up to us to discover.
It was 7:30 in the morning, and we were taking our shoes off in a strange house. Eventually, someone beckoned from the kitchen, and we went in. But already we were out of sync. The kitchen was small, with an L-shaped counter and a small table for dining. Brian’s mother was at the end of the L, working with bowls and dishes and burners on the stove. Brian’s father was perched against the counter, while Brian and his younger brother sat at the table. His father was a small man, while the other three were quite large. The room wasn’t big enough for the six of us, so we managed to set up for the interview in the only place we could—at the far end of the counter. We wedged ourselves (one behind the other) on small chairs, pulling our knees in, our paraphernalia of notepads, documents, video cameras, tapes, batteries, and so on clutched in close. It wasn’t ideal, but we hoped we could make it work.
The real challenge quickly became clear: Although Brian had agreed to be interviewed, he was actively disinterested. We had recruited Brian specifically, but here we were with the entire family. We pressed ahead, explaining our study, and starting in with our planned questions. Since Brian was the person with whom we had the arrangement, we focused our attention on him. He responded with one-word answers (which sounded more like grunts) and the occasional glance at his brother, causing them both to giggle.
My colleague and I avoided looking at each other (it may not have been physically possible, given the tight quarters) for fear of displaying our despair. Sure, we had arranged this interview, but the cues we were receiving were making it clear the arrangement wasn’t worth much. At this point, we had already awoken quite early to conduct this interview, so there was no point in giving up. If they changed their mind explicitly, they’d let us know, and we’d leave. Meanwhile, what else was there to do but press on? I asked questions with very little response. I tried the brother, at which point Brian bolted out of the room for a few minutes, without a word. The brother was only slightly more amenable than Brian, mostly interested in making critical comments about his parents (to Brian’s great grunting enjoyment), rather than providing any actual information.
Indeed, it appeared that Brian had not informed his parents that we were coming. Although I directed some of the questioning toward his mom, she reacted with pretty serious hostility, informing us (in the context of an answer to a question) that they did not welcome strangers into their
