Fieldwork

Well, Brigitte and I did fieldwork for the final stages of our research tonight.

While we’ve conducted research in the Gay areas of Toronto and Buffalo, and the Straight Area’s of Buffalo, tonight was the first dry run for any of the Gay Areas in Buffalo, NY. It proved on one hand quite the challenge (far different from the Toronto Gay scene which was far more open), on the other hand, it yielded incredibly accurate data, so it was worth it.

While there were numerous questions that were no doubt interesting on the survey, what we were actually looking to answer was only two overall questions (which we’re calling hits): the first that measured proximity and then second, the ability to correctly identify terminology as coming from one of two categories (I’m being deliberately obtuse here for reasons which will be apparent when the project is complete and comes out).

There were many questions inserted to divert attention, and they did the job correctly (and had the effects we desired and in fact, required), though in retrospect, in the future I will certainly rework how I do them. While they provided for accurate results, some of the stress that they created for the research team could have been beter alleviated (but, you learn as you go and as long as we were the only one’s that were stressed, we did our job properly).

This also marks the second Gay Bar where people thought I was straight. I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I was in work mode. I think that the hardest part of doing this kind of survey is having to go outside of the ivory towers, play stupid so you don’t have too much of an effect on the data, and then smile and nod for all criticism regardless of validity (the only way I can frame this is to give you the following scenario: you’re testing if car horns scare people, and at the end, your participant comes up to you and says ‘that scared me! you should change the survey so it doesn’t!’ – well…yes, it scared you…that was the point, so while an accurate criticism if I were studying something else, it doesn’t really apply to what I’m looking for).

I also had some people question how ‘simple’ the survey was (which was also deliberate, I didn’t require anyone’s weight on the moon) as well as say that it was stereotypically gay (which I found to be the most interesting criticism because it only asked for something stemming from the gay community once and that was asking if they were gay or not. No questions after the first question of “Gay” or “Straight” came from the Gay community). Most of the second criticism I believe extends from the assumption that the researcher team was straight and that is something we will certainly have to find a unique way to correct the next time around.

Of course I think back to Dr. Smyth’s work when he (as an openly Gay Linguist) was doing Queer Phonetic research and had someone walk out on him because he was ‘anti-gay’ or had gay people tell him pretty much the same criticisms I received tonight. The way I look at it, it really just makes me feel like part of the club. Sort of how I felt when I read my first spectrograph.

Part of the problem certainly comes from the fact that people get frustrated when they can’t read into (even with informed consent) what, small, feature we’re actually measuring and in the case of this survey, this is by far the most minute part of the whole thing; the meat of the research actually came from sources where we obtained the etymology of what we are looking for; as well as the fieldwork we did in Toronto and Buffalo already. If this were the most important part of the research, I wouldn’t be doing it last (important stuff always comes first, so you don’t run out of time).

However, I will certainly not only remember this experience, but take this into account for the future

It also gives me a whole lot more respect for my Aunt who’s a researcher (and who I worked for, for four years when I was with the Queens College Psychological Research Group). However, stressful as it was, it was also a successful night, the data was accurate. The project is almost done. I have a ton more work to do and it will be done, as soon as I do dishes and get out my Nip/Tuck DVDs and turn them on for background noise.

Off to crunch numbers!

Peace all =D

Fieldwork

Well, Brigitte and I did fieldwork for the final stages of our research tonight.

While we’ve conducted research in the Gay areas of Toronto and Buffalo, and the Straight Area’s of Buffalo, tonight was the first dry run for any of the Gay Areas in Buffalo, NY. It proved on one hand quite the challenge (far different from the Toronto Gay scene which was far more open), on the other hand, it yielded incredibly accurate data, so it was worth it.

While there were numerous questions that were no doubt interesting on the survey, what we were actually looking to answer was only two overall questions (which we’re calling hits): the first that measured proximity and then second, the ability to correctly identify terminology as coming from one of two categories (I’m being deliberately obtuse here for reasons which will be apparent when the project is complete and comes out).

There were many questions inserted to divert attention, and they did the job correctly (and had the effects we desired and in fact, required), though in retrospect, in the future I will certainly rework how I do them. While they provided for accurate results, some of the stress that they created for the research team could have been beter alleviated (but, you learn as you go and as long as we were the only one’s that were stressed, we did our job properly).

This also marks the second Gay Bar where people thought I was straight. I’ll chalk that up to the fact that I was in work mode. I think that the hardest part of doing this kind of survey is having to go outside of the ivory towers, play stupid so you don’t have too much of an effect on the data, and then smile and nod for all criticism regardless of validity (the only way I can frame this is to give you the following scenario: you’re testing if car horns scare people, and at the end, your participant comes up to you and says ‘that scared me! you should change the survey so it doesn’t!’ – well…yes, it scared you…that was the point, so while an accurate criticism if I were studying something else, it doesn’t really apply to what I’m looking for).

I also had some people question how ‘simple’ the survey was (which was also deliberate, I didn’t require anyone’s weight on the moon) as well as say that it was stereotypically gay (which I found to be the most interesting criticism because it only asked for something stemming from the gay community once and that was asking if they were gay or not. No questions after the first question of “Gay” or “Straight” came from the Gay community). Most of the second criticism I believe extends from the assumption that the researcher team was straight and that is something we will certainly have to find a unique way to correct the next time around.

Of course I think back to Dr. Smyth’s work when he (as an openly Gay Linguist) was doing Queer Phonetic research and had someone walk out on him because he was ‘anti-gay’ or had gay people tell him pretty much the same criticisms I received tonight. The way I look at it, it really just makes me feel like part of the club. Sort of how I felt when I read my first spectrograph.

Part of the problem certainly comes from the fact that people get frustrated when they can’t read into (even with informed consent) what, small, feature we’re actually measuring and in the case of this survey, this is by far the most minute part of the whole thing; the meat of the research actually came from sources where we obtained the etymology of what we are looking for; as well as the fieldwork we did in Toronto and Buffalo already. If this were the most important part of the research, I wouldn’t be doing it last (important stuff always comes first, so you don’t run out of time).

However, I will certainly not only remember this experience, but take this into account for the future

It also gives me a whole lot more respect for my Aunt who’s a researcher (and who I worked for, for four years when I was with the Queens College Psychological Research Group). However, stressful as it was, it was also a successful night, the data was accurate. The project is almost done. I have a ton more work to do and it will be done, as soon as I do dishes and get out my Nip/Tuck DVDs and turn them on for background noise.

Off to crunch numbers!

Peace all =D

Saturday Mornings =)

I have a headache building (I think due to the weather) and since I’ts a Saturday afternoon, the weather incredibly windy and shitty all around, I’m gunna just go lay down again and probably watch some cartoons, with the volume really, really low until 4:30 when I have to study for my Arabic Final on Thursday.

Saturday Mornings =)

I have a headache building (I think due to the weather) and since I’ts a Saturday afternoon, the weather incredibly windy and shitty all around, I’m gunna just go lay down again and probably watch some cartoons, with the volume really, really low until 4:30 when I have to study for my Arabic Final on Thursday.

Ask DNA

Ask DNA

Words by Tim Jensen
Music and Arranged by Kanno Yoko

Gummed up, brain dead and can’t decide
you can’t pray enough, you can’t hide
You can be cool or you can cry
Do it wrong
Not it all
Or do it right

No one owes you, no one’s to blame
Save for bad genes or DNA
Ask your conscience the why and how
Do it then
Do it when
But, do it now

What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom

No we all can’t be Superfly GQPhDFBI
You can pretend or you can try
Move ahead
Lay down dead
Or slip on by

When the truth seems so farway
Buddha loves you and Jesus saves
You need answers for your dismay

Ask yourself
Ask your mom
Ask DNA

What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom

Kamakamakama ask your mama
Super groover Dahli Lama

What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
Come on!

What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom

Ask DNA

Ask DNA

Words by Tim Jensen
Music and Arranged by Kanno Yoko
Gummed up, brain dead and can’t decide
you can’t pray enough, you can’t hide
You can be cool or you can cry
Do it wrong
Not it all
Or do it right
No one owes you, no one’s to blame
Save for bad genes or DNA
Ask your conscience the why and how
Do it then
Do it when
But, do it now
What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom
No we all can’t be Superfly GQPhDFBI
You can pretend or you can try
Move ahead
Lay down dead
Or slip on by
When the truth seems so farway
Buddha loves you and Jesus saves
You need answers for your dismay
Ask yourself
Ask your mom
Ask DNA
What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom
Kamakamakama ask your mama
Super groover Dahli Lama
What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
Come on!
What’s up sweet cakes?
Who’s hip anyway?
Earthgirls are easy
What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?
(Hey you, you better ask her nice!)
All you gotta do, happy fool, is ask your mom

The Mating Dance

“What’s up sweet cakes? Who’s hip anyway? Earthgirls are easy. What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?” – Ask DNA, The Seatbelts

We’re coming out of the elevator to one of UB’s many catwalks, and I see him sitting down at a table and he motions for me to come over with my friend…he has jet black hair, that drapes perfectly on his face, black stubble which while he’d deny it, he clearly makes sure is in the right shape each day to match his chiseled, face…while he’s sitting down at a table in the walkway, my head comes level with his…until he stands up, and you can see his tall, lanky (yet defined) frame driving me about as mad with hormones as does his equally attractive, arrogant, cocky personality…and what he doesn’t know is that when I said I’d be more than happy to show him a good time the other day and he said to be careful what I wished for, ’cause I just might get it, was that I know, that he knows, that I know he wasn’t kidding.

As I approach him, I smile, a wry grin creeping across my face as this mating dance progresses to a whole other stage…and he thinks I’m smiling because he’s acting like an ass towards one of my friends…and I’m smiling ’cause I’m looking at his face, at his stubble, down to his neck…his adams apple, down to his pecks…and listening to his voice and I’m letting it drive me wild…’cause I’m about to enter a three hour long class, with a painfully monotone instructor…and I’ll be able to ride this wave of hormonal stimulation for at least an hour and a half…and I’d like to ride him a lot longer than that…if things work out the way I hope they do.

And this, ladies and gentleman, is what we call the mating dance…and of course, this indeed would be an ideal relationship: in thirteen months I’m in Israel and he’s shipping off to Japan to further his studies of the Japanese language, and his other academic pursuits…and a mutually beneficial relationship of pleasure with a logical end of friendship, could be created.

But we’ll see.

“See you soon Space Cowboy.”

The Mating Dance

“What’s up sweet cakes? Who’s hip anyway? Earthgirls are easy. What you gonna do lil’ buckaroo?” – Ask DNA, The Seatbelts

We’re coming out of the elevator to one of UB’s many catwalks, and I see him sitting down at a table and he motions for me to come over with my friend…he has jet black hair, that drapes perfectly on his face, black stubble which while he’d deny it, he clearly makes sure is in the right shape each day to match his chiseled, face…while he’s sitting down at a table in the walkway, my head comes level with his…until he stands up, and you can see his tall, lanky (yet defined) frame driving me about as mad with hormones as does his equally attractive, arrogant, cocky personality…and what he doesn’t know is that when I said I’d be more than happy to show him a good time the other day and he said to be careful what I wished for, ’cause I just might get it, was that I know, that he knows, that I know he wasn’t kidding.

As I approach him, I smile, a wry grin creeping across my face as this mating dance progresses to a whole other stage…and he thinks I’m smiling because he’s acting like an ass towards one of my friends…and I’m smiling ’cause I’m looking at his face, at his stubble, down to his neck…his adams apple, down to his pecks…and listening to his voice and I’m letting it drive me wild…’cause I’m about to enter a three hour long class, with a painfully monotone instructor…and I’ll be able to ride this wave of hormonal stimulation for at least an hour and a half…and I’d like to ride him a lot longer than that…if things work out the way I hope they do.

And this, ladies and gentleman, is what we call the mating dance…and of course, this indeed would be an ideal relationship: in thirteen months I’m in Israel and he’s shipping off to Japan to further his studies of the Japanese language, and his other academic pursuits…and a mutually beneficial relationship of pleasure with a logical end of friendship, could be created.

But we’ll see.

“See you soon Space Cowboy.”