I interviewed a veteran of the Iraq War today. I got some great stories, an interesting and honest perspective, and a better understanding of what life is like for some soldiers, especially those that have served in combat.
The bad news is, I feel I could have gotten so much more.
That's not just perfectionist pomp; I believe if I had a better idea of what my project is trying to do, I would have been better prepared to ask poignant questions. The problem lies in the combination of the project's focus evolving with the information I get.
The more interviews I do, the more I'll be able to recognize a pattern, something to focus on. Right now, I don't have many of those, so it seems as if there is no story. The story is there, however...it's just a matter of figuring out the common thread that holds together all the narratives I've collected.
It's a scattered approach to storytelling. I'm trying to pull a rabbit out of a hat without knowing how to do the trick. Thing is, I know that rabbit's in there somewhere.
If nothing else, I'm honing my interview skills. Establishing contact, explaining your project, getting comfortable recording and editing...all these things are important.
To use a cooking analogy, if the story itself is the final dish, I'm prepping ingredients. The oven's still preheating, so to speak.
Today's interview was a valuable experience, and the next interview I have with a veteran will be more polished, more focused. For now, I've got to let the thoughts shared with me today simmer for a bit.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Listening
Tonight, I went to a Bible study group with my brother-in-law and a friend. It was the three of us and their pastor, a pretty laid-back, unconventional man of the cloth. Given his modern/practical vibe and my disdain toward religion, I decided to ask questions. A lot of questions. It got to the point where I was asking some questions that were difficult to answer, not just for a pastor, but for anyone who knows that religion is one of those human conversations that has no end. At least, not yet (another topic for another day).
What I learned from the experience was the importance of listening.
Earlier today, I visited the National Gallery of Art. While sitting on a bench, I struck up a conversation with one of the curators. I don't know how we got to the topic, but I told him about the podcast I am trying to put together that involves interviewing veterans. It turns out that he's a veteran of the Iraq War, and the stories he told me were pretty graphic. More importantly, he was willing to share. I think one of the reasons for his enthusiasm was his desire for me to help him with his writing; but even if I had never mentioned that I'm a writer, I still think he would have shared his experiences. What got him to share? My willingness to shut up and listen, something I didn't do with the good pastor.
Everything is a learning experience -- your willingness to remain open determines how much you actually learn. Even if something is old hat, there can be something new to pick up. It may take extra effort, but nobody has the market cornered on perfection.
The same goes for listening. The most essential part of conversation is the sharing; it's two-way street kind of stuff. If I'm going to tell other people's stories, I need to learn to take in information with open ears and an open mind. But here's the thing: I'm shaping questions around a preconceived idea. The questions have to come from some frame of reference. Allowing that preconceived notion to be dispelled is what leads to fresh perspectives.
What I learned from the experience was the importance of listening.
Earlier today, I visited the National Gallery of Art. While sitting on a bench, I struck up a conversation with one of the curators. I don't know how we got to the topic, but I told him about the podcast I am trying to put together that involves interviewing veterans. It turns out that he's a veteran of the Iraq War, and the stories he told me were pretty graphic. More importantly, he was willing to share. I think one of the reasons for his enthusiasm was his desire for me to help him with his writing; but even if I had never mentioned that I'm a writer, I still think he would have shared his experiences. What got him to share? My willingness to shut up and listen, something I didn't do with the good pastor.
Everything is a learning experience -- your willingness to remain open determines how much you actually learn. Even if something is old hat, there can be something new to pick up. It may take extra effort, but nobody has the market cornered on perfection.
The same goes for listening. The most essential part of conversation is the sharing; it's two-way street kind of stuff. If I'm going to tell other people's stories, I need to learn to take in information with open ears and an open mind. But here's the thing: I'm shaping questions around a preconceived idea. The questions have to come from some frame of reference. Allowing that preconceived notion to be dispelled is what leads to fresh perspectives.
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