I have always thought part of the reason that I went into academia is that I have always loved my relationship with books, at times even more than my relationship with people. Paper is more patient than man, as the saying goes.
Don’t get me wrong: I am not your hide-behind-the-library-shelves-and-come-out-only-for-food type of PhD student. I enjoy talking to people (and coming up with appropriate responses), getting to know them over shots of espresso and tequila or simply being in their pleasant company. Yet, the relationship with books is of an entirely different kind. There is no drama, no insecurity, no “why doesn’t he call me back” or “I don’t think this is working anymore.” It seems that books are always there–waiting.
We sociologists sometimes use the phrase “going into the field” when setting out to do interviews or participant-observations. This phrase creates an illusion that there exists a “field”– a separate and exotic sphere out there that is specifically for human interactions and relationship. For me, “going into the field” always comes with a sense of anticipation. It sends down a tingly feeling down my spine the same way “going on to field trip” did when I was a little girl.
The anticipation comes with a question mark: What is out there that you will not find in books? I once confessed to a good friend who is also a fellow PhD student about the fear I have before every project that requires field research: What if I cannot find enough respondents? What if my respondents have decided they do not want to talk to me anymore? What if they don’t show up? What if? What if?
The anticipation comes with a question mark: What is out there that you will not find in books? I once confessed to a good friend who is also a fellow PhD student about the fear I have before every project that requires field research: What if I cannot find enough respondents? What if my respondents have decided they do not want to talk to me anymore? What if they don’t show up? What if? What if?
This fear intensified after I started my first project in the US. Where do I find respondents when, as a newcomer, I barely know anyone in the area? How do I make sure nothing is lost in translation? What about the cultural differences? “If I could,” I told my friend, “I would base all my future projects on archival research and just stay in the library.”
Even so, at the end of the day, things have turned out fine. I managed to find enough people who were willing to talk with me and came home to some of the longest nights in my life for interview transcribing. As I listened to our voices replaying in the empty room, it was finally clear that how to handle the “what-if”s is the integral part of every human relationship– which you will not get with books. What is even more wonderful about being a Chinese researcher doing fieldwork in another country (in my case, the US) is that such interactions with other people in the field is not only meaningful for answering the sociological questions- it is also a chance to see another place at a greater depth. There is always the possibility for cross-cultural comparison, and through such comparisons, I am able to understand my home country even better.
True, books are always there, waiting and drama-free. But humans surprise you. With the “what-if”s comes the possibility- the possibility of a broken heart and the possibility of the “happily-ever-after”; the possibility of failing and the possibility of making it. It still feels amazing how my respondents have shared with me a slice of their lives when not long ago, we were complete strangers. As one of my respondents said, we sometimes underestimate people, and their ability to share and understand.
So next time you ask yourself about the “what-ifs” remember: This is where the fun is.
我常觉得，我选择做学术的一个原因就是，比起与人相交，我更喜欢与书本的关系。就好像人们常说：纸比人有耐心。
当然，我可不是那种躲在书架后，只在吃饭时才出来的PhD学生。我喜欢与人交流（通常，也能得体应对）——就着咖啡或是酒聊天。可是，与书的关系却与这些都截然不同——与书相交，并没有不安全感，或者过度的戏剧性，不存在“他为什么不给我打电话？”或者“我们分手吧”——书永远都会静静地在那里。
我们社会学家常常管访谈和参与研究叫“做田野”——这个词组常常让人觉得，仿佛有一个特别的“异域”，与人际互动相关。对于我来说，“去做田野”常常伴随着某种兴奋，就好像小时候，说起“去春游”一样。
这样的兴奋与期待背后，是一个问题：我们能够在田野中获得什么，在书本中得不到的？我曾经和一位同是PhD学生的朋友说过：万一我找不到愿意参加访谈的人怎么办？或者万一他们中途退出？或者他们压根就不出现？——万一……？万一……？
在我开始了到美国后的第一个课题后，这样的担心进一步加剧了：初来乍到，我该去哪里寻找被访者呢？我又该如何应对文化差异？“如果可能的话，我真想以后只做二手资料研究，呆在图书馆里。”——我对我的朋友说。
可是即便如此，最后的最后，事情并没有想象中那么糟糕。我找到了足够的被访者。在那些停写访谈的漫漫长夜里，我突然意识到，这样的“万一”——便是你无法从书本中获得的经验。而对于一个在美国做田野的中国研究者而言，这样的经历，其意义不仅在于理解那些社会学问题，更在于更深刻地理解另一种文化。也正是在这种对比与比较中，我也能更深刻地理解自己的母文化。
的确，书本永远在那里，可是人能够带给你惊喜。伴随着“万一”的，是某种开放的可能性——可能心碎也可能幸福下去，可能失败也可能成功。我至今感念我的被访者们，与我分享了他们的一部分生活。正如其中一人所说：我们常常低估了身边的人，我们低估了他们理解与分享的能力。
所以，只怕万一？——这也是乐趣所在。