As part of a digital storytelling project for my Visual Research Methods class, I recently traveled to my parent’s winter home in Mesquite, Nevada to work with my father, Earl. For as long as I can remember he has always told his stories to anyone that would listen (and even to those who wouldn’t). Stories of growing up in a little Mormon farm town on the outskirts of Bancroft, Idaho, of being a Marine in World War II and what it was like to be stationed in China, and stories of meeting my mother. He’s recalled countless memories of flying an airplane and how proud he was to get his first twin engine airplane and how close he’s come to dying as a result of flying those planes. Not one for political correctness or sensitivity to the feminist agenda [let’s just say he would make Archie Bunker proud], many of his stories are actually off-color jokes that he repeats over and over and laughs himself silly each time the punchline comes as if it is the funniest thing ever said. He’s offended many and touched a few but he’s got a big heart and means well (I think). My dad loves an audience and he loves attention. Whenever visitors pop in to say hello, family is home for a visit, or he’s out playing poker or golf with the boys, he can’t help but share his stories. Now at the tender age of 84 it’s becoming more important to him to have his memories preserved. He wants his life recorded, wants to leave a footprint. Rather than me, his dutiful daughter trained in media studies, recording the stories the way I interpret them, I wanted to attempt to empower my father with the means to record his stories on his own terms, whenever and wherever he wanted to.
For recording this project, we used a basic set up: a small Panasonic mini-dv video camera and a tripod. I tutored him in camera angles and shot composition and let him make the decisions on how he wanted to be positioned and framed and if and when he wanted any zooming done. He also held the camera and shot some b-roll (pond, pictures, etc.) which he selected himself on where to include in the editing process. It was challenging to get him to have enough patience with the technology and I could feel him getting frustrated and just wanting me to do it all while he just talked. This was not the purpose for me in doing the project and I absolutely had to stand my ground with him on this one: the expert challenging the authority! In the end I’m not sure how empowered he really felt with being able to push the buttons (I think this takes much more than doing it once to even feel a little confident), but I know he felt a great sense of pride with seeing himself on film, being able to share one of his stories and knowing that he helped create a little piece of immortality. He was so proud, in fact, that we had to have a little screening with my mom and the neighbors. We popped the popcorn and watched Earl “The Pearl” in action in his first directorial debut. He was thrilled.
This particular story of his interpretation of a Navajo Indian Raindance was told on several occasions throughout my childhood and has had many incarnations. Without fail, every time he would perform this song, the strangest thing would happen…
It always rained.
(fyi, you must let the video load in its entirety before attempting to play)
1 week ago
