Impressions of Grandmother
Identifieur interne : 002F78 ( Istex/Corpus ); précédent : 002F77; suivant : 002F79Impressions of Grandmother
Auteurs : Carol RamboSource :
- Journal of contemporary ethnography [ 0891-2416 ] ; 2005-10.
English descriptors
- KwdEn :
- Account format, African american families, Aunt kathy, Autoethnographic, Autoethnographic portrait, Autoethnographic sketch, Carol, Castilian heritage, Celluloid, Chicago press, Child development, Contemporary ethnography, Contemporary ethnography october, Deviant behavior, Dining room, Disabled mother, Ethnography, Family structure, Feminist praxis, Good impression, Grandmother, Grandmother triads, Identity formation, John butler, Langston hughes, Lifeless body, More work, Much time, Multiple reflections, Mystic sketchpad, Nervous wreck, October, Older woman, Other meanings, Positive spaces, Processual nature, Qualitative inquiry, Rambo, Rambo impressions, Rambo ronai, Romance novels, Sanitary belts, School seniors, Small frame, Sous rature, Subjective experience, Survey research, Viewfinder.
- Teeft :
- Account format, African american families, Aunt kathy, Autoethnographic, Autoethnographic portrait, Autoethnographic sketch, Carol, Castilian heritage, Celluloid, Chicago press, Child development, Contemporary ethnography, Contemporary ethnography october, Deviant behavior, Dining room, Disabled mother, Ethnography, Family structure, Feminist praxis, Good impression, Grandmother, Grandmother triads, Identity formation, John butler, Langston hughes, Lifeless body, More work, Much time, Multiple reflections, Mystic sketchpad, Nervous wreck, October, Older woman, Other meanings, Positive spaces, Processual nature, Qualitative inquiry, Rambo, Rambo impressions, Rambo ronai, Romance novels, Sanitary belts, School seniors, Small frame, Sous rature, Subjective experience, Survey research, Viewfinder.
Abstract
Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches, through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethnographic portrait of her grandmother. Derrida’s concepts such as the “mystic writing pad,” “differance,” and “sous rature” serve as frames through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation across time. Various aspects of the author’s grandmother’s character, positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descriptions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida’s concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but, taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic portrait.
Url:
DOI: 10.1177/0891241605279079
Links to Exploration step
ISTEX:613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67Le document en format XML
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Derrida’s concepts such as the “mystic writing pad,” “differance,” and “sous rature” serve as frames through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation across time. Various aspects of the author’s grandmother’s character, positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descriptions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida’s concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but, taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic portrait.</div></front></TEI><istex><corpusName>sage</corpusName><keywords><teeft><json:string>rambo</json:string><json:string>ethnography</json:string><json:string>october</json:string><json:string>rambo impressions</json:string><json:string>contemporary ethnography october</json:string><json:string>viewfinder</json:string><json:string>autoethnographic</json:string><json:string>celluloid</json:string><json:string>account format</json:string><json:string>identity formation</json:string><json:string>contemporary ethnography</json:string><json:string>sous rature</json:string><json:string>grandmother</json:string><json:string>rambo ronai</json:string><json:string>qualitative inquiry</json:string><json:string>other meanings</json:string><json:string>child development</json:string><json:string>feminist praxis</json:string><json:string>small frame</json:string><json:string>positive spaces</json:string><json:string>multiple reflections</json:string><json:string>carol</json:string><json:string>grandmother triads</json:string><json:string>african american families</json:string><json:string>family structure</json:string><json:string>older woman</json:string><json:string>autoethnographic portrait</json:string><json:string>langston hughes</json:string><json:string>processual nature</json:string><json:string>castilian heritage</json:string><json:string>nervous wreck</json:string><json:string>john butler</json:string><json:string>more work</json:string><json:string>good impression</json:string><json:string>aunt kathy</json:string><json:string>subjective experience</json:string><json:string>deviant behavior</json:string><json:string>autoethnographic sketch</json:string><json:string>mystic sketchpad</json:string><json:string>disabled mother</json:string><json:string>dining room</json:string><json:string>much time</json:string><json:string>romance novels</json:string><json:string>sanitary belts</json:string><json:string>lifeless body</json:string><json:string>chicago press</json:string><json:string>survey research</json:string><json:string>school seniors</json:string></teeft></keywords><author><json:item><name>Carol Rambo</name><affiliations><json:string>University of Memphis</json:string></affiliations></json:item></author><subject><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>grandmothers</value></json:item><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>autoethnography</value></json:item><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>ethnography</value></json:item><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>deconstruction</value></json:item><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>identity</value></json:item><json:item><lang><json:string>eng</json:string></lang><value>layered account</value></json:item></subject><articleId><json:string>10.1177_0891241605279079</json:string></articleId><arkIstex>ark:/67375/M70-6GKXMN8J-5</arkIstex><language><json:string>eng</json:string></language><originalGenre><json:string>research-article</json:string></originalGenre><abstract>Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches, through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethnographic portrait of her grandmother. 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Rambo Ronai 1998, 1999</json:string><json:string>Yeung and Martin 2003</json:string><json:string>Kostelecky and Bass (2004)</json:string><json:string>Johnsen and Medley 1978</json:string><json:string>Stanley 1990</json:string><json:string>Hinton et al. 1995</json:string><json:string>Hernandez, Vargas-Lew, and Martinez 1994</json:string><json:string>Derrida 1982</json:string><json:string>Victor 2004</json:string><json:string>Johnsen and Medley (1978)</json:string></ref_bibl><bibl></bibl></unitex></namedEntities><ark><json:string>ark:/67375/M70-6GKXMN8J-5</json:string></ark><categories><wos><json:string>1 - social science</json:string><json:string>2 - urban studies</json:string><json:string>2 - sociology</json:string></wos><scienceMetrix><json:string>1 - arts & humanities</json:string><json:string>2 - historical studies</json:string><json:string>3 - anthropology</json:string></scienceMetrix><scopus><json:string>1 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>2 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>3 - Urban Studies</json:string><json:string>1 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>2 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>3 - Sociology and Political Science</json:string><json:string>1 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>2 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>3 - Anthropology</json:string><json:string>1 - Social Sciences</json:string><json:string>2 - Arts and Humanities</json:string><json:string>3 - Language and Linguistics</json:string></scopus><inist><json:string>1 - sciences humaines et sociales</json:string><json:string>2 - sciences de l'education</json:string></inist></categories><publicationDate>2005</publicationDate><copyrightDate>2005</copyrightDate><doi><json:string>10.1177/0891241605279079</json:string></doi><id>613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67</id><score>1</score><fulltext><json:item><extension>pdf</extension><original>true</original><mimetype>application/pdf</mimetype><uri>https://api.istex.fr/document/613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67/fulltext/pdf</uri></json:item><json:item><extension>zip</extension><original>false</original><mimetype>application/zip</mimetype><uri>https://api.istex.fr/document/613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67/fulltext/zip</uri></json:item><istex:fulltextTEI uri="https://api.istex.fr/document/613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67/fulltext/tei"><teiHeader><fileDesc><titleStmt><title level="a" type="main" xml:lang="en">Impressions of Grandmother</title><title level="a" type="sub" xml:lang="en">An Autoethnographic Portrait</title></titleStmt><publicationStmt><authority>ISTEX</authority><publisher scheme="https://publisher-list.data.istex.fr">Sage Publications</publisher><pubPlace>Sage CA: Thousand Oaks, CA</pubPlace><availability><licence><p>sage</p></licence></availability><p scheme="https://loaded-corpus.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/XBH-0J1N7DQT-B"></p><date>2005</date></publicationStmt><notesStmt><note type="research-article" scheme="https://content-type.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/XTP-1JC4F85T-7">research-article</note><note type="journal" scheme="https://publication-type.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/JMC-0GLKJH51-B">journal</note></notesStmt><sourceDesc><biblStruct type="inbook"><analytic><title level="a" type="main" xml:lang="en">Impressions of Grandmother</title><title level="a" type="sub" xml:lang="en">An Autoethnographic Portrait</title><author xml:id="author-0000"><persName><forename type="first">Carol</forename><surname>Rambo</surname></persName><affiliation>University of Memphis</affiliation></author><idno type="istex">613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67</idno><idno type="ark">ark:/67375/M70-6GKXMN8J-5</idno><idno type="DOI">10.1177/0891241605279079</idno><idno type="article-id">10.1177_0891241605279079</idno></analytic><monogr><title level="j">Journal of contemporary ethnography</title><idno type="pISSN">0891-2416</idno><idno type="eISSN">1552-5414</idno><idno type="publisher-id">JCE</idno><idno type="PublisherID-hwp">spjce</idno><imprint><publisher>Sage Publications</publisher><pubPlace>Sage CA: Thousand Oaks, CA</pubPlace><date type="published" when="2005-10"></date><biblScope unit="volume">34</biblScope><biblScope unit="issue">5</biblScope><biblScope unit="page" from="560">560</biblScope><biblScope unit="page" to="585">585</biblScope></imprint></monogr></biblStruct></sourceDesc></fileDesc><profileDesc><creation><date>2005</date></creation><langUsage><language ident="en">en</language></langUsage><abstract xml:lang="en"><p>Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches, through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethnographic portrait of her grandmother. Derrida’s concepts such as the “mystic writing pad,” “differance,” and “sous rature” serve as frames through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation across time. Various aspects of the author’s grandmother’s character, positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descriptions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida’s concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but, taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic portrait.</p></abstract><textClass><keywords scheme="keyword"><list><head>keywords</head><item><term>grandmothers</term></item><item><term>autoethnography</term></item><item><term>ethnography</term></item><item><term>deconstruction</term></item><item><term>identity</term></item><item><term>layered account</term></item></list></keywords></textClass></profileDesc><revisionDesc><change when="2005-10">Published</change></revisionDesc></teiHeader></istex:fulltextTEI><json:item><extension>txt</extension><original>false</original><mimetype>text/plain</mimetype><uri>https://api.istex.fr/document/613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67/fulltext/txt</uri></json:item></fulltext><metadata><istex:metadataXml wicri:clean="corpus sage not found" wicri:toSee="no header"><istex:xmlDeclaration>version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"</istex:xmlDeclaration><istex:docType PUBLIC="-//NLM//DTD Journal Publishing DTD v2.3 20070202//EN" URI="journalpublishing.dtd" name="istex:docType"></istex:docType><istex:document><article article-type="research-article" dtd-version="2.3" xml:lang="EN"><front><journal-meta><journal-id journal-id-type="hwp">spjce</journal-id><journal-id journal-id-type="publisher-id">JCE</journal-id><journal-title>Journal of Contemporary Ethnography</journal-title><issn pub-type="ppub">0891-2416</issn><publisher><publisher-name>Sage Publications</publisher-name><publisher-loc>Sage CA: Thousand Oaks, CA</publisher-loc></publisher></journal-meta><article-meta><article-id pub-id-type="doi">10.1177/0891241605279079</article-id><article-id pub-id-type="publisher-id">10.1177_0891241605279079</article-id><article-categories><subj-group subj-group-type="heading"><subject>Articles</subject></subj-group></article-categories><title-group><article-title>Impressions of Grandmother</article-title><subtitle>An Autoethnographic Portrait</subtitle></title-group><contrib-group><contrib contrib-type="author" xlink:type="simple"><name name-style="western"><surname>Rambo</surname><given-names>Carol</given-names></name><aff>University of Memphis</aff></contrib></contrib-group><pub-date pub-type="ppub"><month>10</month><year>2005</year></pub-date><volume>34</volume><issue>5</issue><fpage>560</fpage><lpage>585</lpage><abstract><p><italic>Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches, through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethnographic portrait of her grandmother. Derrida’s concepts such as the “mystic writing pad,” “differance,” and “sous rature” serve as frames through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation across time. Various aspects of the author’s grandmother’s character, positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descriptions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida’s concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but, taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic portrait.</italic></p></abstract><kwd-group><kwd>grandmothers</kwd><kwd>autoethnography</kwd><kwd>ethnography</kwd><kwd>deconstruction</kwd><kwd>identity</kwd><kwd>layered account</kwd></kwd-group><custom-meta-wrap><custom-meta xlink:type="simple"><meta-name>sagemeta-type</meta-name><meta-value>Journal Article</meta-value></custom-meta><custom-meta xlink:type="simple"><meta-name>search-text</meta-name><meta-value>
10.1177/0891241605279079JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER
IMPRESSIONS OF
GRANDMOTHER
An Autoethnographic Portrait
CAROL RAMBO
University of Memphis
560
CAROL RAMBO is an associate professor of sociol-
ogy at the University of Memphis. She coedited
Everyday Sexism in the Third Millennium with Barb
Zsembik and Joe Feagin (1997, Routledge Press) and
has published on topics such as exotic dancing, child-
hood sexual abuse, and mentally retarded parenting.
She has published in journals such as Deviant Behav-
ior, Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, Qualita-
tive Inquiry, Mental Retardation, Journal of Aging
Studies, and Perspectives on Social Problems. To
learn more about her latest research interests, visit
her Web site at www.carolrambo.com.
"Every identity
we have
experienced is
neither fully
present, nor fully
erased."
Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, Vol. 34 No. 5, October 2005 560-585
DOI: 10.1177/0891241605279079
© 2005 Sage Publications
Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches,
through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethno-
graphic portrait of her grandmother. Derrida's concepts such as the
"mystic writing pad," "differance," and "sous rature" serve as frames
through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation
across time. Various aspects of the author's grandmother's character,
positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descrip-
tions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the
impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida's
concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually
as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but,
taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend
into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic
portrait.
Keywords: grandmothers; autoethnography; ethnography; decons-
truction; identity; layered account
If asked to draw her, I would have etched Grandmother on white
paper, in black India ink, as a line drawing of an aging fashion
model. My lines would be assertive, minimalist, elegant, and dignified.
At 5'5", a height she informed me was quite tall for a woman who grew
up in her era, she was rail thin from hyperthyroidism and a poor diet.
She dressed tastefully in designer clothing that was typically purchased
from one of several exclusive clothing shops in San Francisco. She had
a knack for choosing classic pieces that never went out of style. Like
Jackie Onassis and other women in the sixties and seventies, Grand-
mother rolled her hair back, away from her forehead, in rollers, at night.
The morning comb-out resulted in a slightly tall hairdo that arced away
from her face and fell to a c-shape at her temples. My line draw-
ing would flair the c-shape, emphasizing drama and a slightly haughty
attitude.
My black-and-white etching would have one color--red. The only
makeup Grandmother ever wore was bright red lipstick. There were
many tubes of red lipstick on her dressing table, most of them not in use
because they were off, too violet or too orange. I would mix for her the
true red she could never quite find and paint a bold red calligraphy
stroke to inscribe a mouth on her face.
The figure would be standing, her face in profile, her head tossed
back, her back facing the viewer, gracefully holding a fashionable
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 561
cocktail in her outstretched hand; a cocktail that would never have been
served before 5:30 p.m.; a cocktail that she had to acquire a taste for at
the age of twenty-seven. She never drank alcohol before that, she
explained, because she did not like the taste, but her husband and all
their friends in Florida drank, so it became necessary for her to learn.
She also took voice lessons to rid herself of her Athens, Georgia, accent
so that she would not be made fun of anymore and could make the right
impression with her husband's family and friends.
* * *
I would paint Grandmother as a specter, a nightmare on canvass,
with muddled colors that ran together. Leaning forward with dishev-
eled grey-white hair, seated on her cigarette tarstained, lime-green,
overstuffed chair, her face would dominate the painting. Her mouth
would be almost toothless, open wide, a gaping maw on an angry skele-
ton wearing what would be a sexy, elegant, penoir set on a healthy
woman. The inside of her mouth would be gray and dark brown, colors
that would reek from the stench of smoking three and a half packs of
Pall Mall unfiltered cigarettes daily. The painting would be peppered
with black spots--cigarette burns--on her nightgown, armrests, and
end table. Open romance novels, Harlequin and others, would litter the
area around her chair. Things in the background of the painting would
be warped and distorted with a sickly gold glow from the cocktails that
started at 12:30 in the afternoon with her first soap opera and ended
between 7:30 and 9:00 at night when she fell asleep in her chair. For the
full effect, I would make you stand with this painting of my grand-
mother, perhaps hanging on the living room wall or in the entryway, and
forbid you to comment on it and demand that you act casual, as if every-
thing is absolutely normal.
* * *
Suspended between theses two pictures, as they leave their mark on
you, lies my impression of my grandmother.
562 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
In this article, I employ a layered account format (Rambo Ronai
1995) for the purposes of rendering an autoethnographic (Ellis 2004)
portrait of my grandmother. In 1995, I wrote "Multiple Reflections of
Childhood Sex Abuse: An Argument for a Layered Account," which
appeared in this journal. At that time, I described the layered account
writing format as a postmodern reporting technique that enabled a
writer to incorporate multiple voices including theory, subjective expe-
rience, fantasy, and more to convey aspects of a topic at hand that would
be otherwise excluded from a more traditional format. I also used my
experiences with my father and incest as a vehicle to illustrate the
possibilities for this format.
This article could be considered a follow-up piece to my 1995 publi-
cation, another set of multiple reflections and a further elaboration of
the layered account format, but it also stands alone. I will sketch
(Rambo 2005; Rambo Ronai 1998, 1999) through vignettes, my im-
pressions of, and my experiences with, my grandmother. Through an
application of some of Derrida's concepts such as the "mystic writing
pad," "differance," and "sous rature," I will use aspects of drawing and
painting to illustrate various dimensions of my grandmother's charac-
ter. Through reflexivity and introspection (Ellis 2004), this autoethno-
graphy will show how the impressions my grandmother left with me
manifest in me. By applying Derrida's concepts, the metaphor of draw-
ing, and the layered account format to my subject matter, I will createan
account that at first blush, will appear disjointed, nonchronological,
conflicted, and ambiguous in nature. But by focusing on my subjective
experience of her through these lenses, I hope to illustrate the character
of someof the processesinvolved with identity formation and change.
Derrida (1978), borrowing from Freud, has characterized conscious-
ness as being like a mystic writing pad, a child's toy that consists of a
sheet of wax paper layered between a wax slab and a protective sheet of
celluloid. By pressing a stylus across the celluloid, one draws on the
pad. By lifting the celluloid and wax paper off the wax slab, the drawing
disappears. While the surface appears clean, ready for a fresh drawing,
prior impressions lie beneath the surface, always subtly affecting what
will be drawn across the celluloid next. Applied to consciousness, there
is neither a full recording of lived experience on the metaphorical wax
nor is the wax completely erased. The experience is neither fully pres-
ent nor totally absent--only traces are left behind.
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 563
Identity, a process dependant on consciousness, likewise, is always
left with traces of what went before. Every identity we have experi-
enced is neither fully present nor fully erased. Accumulating
impressions from these identities lie beneath the surface influencing
the creation of the emergent picture of self. These impressions, as
they build up, provide a relatively stable sense of self. We are not amne-
siacs constantly forced to draw on tabula rasa and reinvent ourselves
with every new situation we encounter. But these surviving traces or
impressions form grooves and ruts in our identity that can be useful or
counterproductive.
I resonate with this metaphor for consciousness and identity because
of my experiences as an art major. I draw the first lines of my picture as
an approximation of what I see. When I lay down my next lines, in rela-
tion to the prior lines, a recognizable representation starts to appear. It is
the juxtapositioning of the lines from which the image emerges. As I
draw and erase, the process becomes one of continuous exploration,
adjustment, and correction. But even as I erase, the impressions of the
prior lines remain embedded in the surface I work with, guiding, mold-
ing, and shaping the drawing. Many times, a line I initially erase gets
redrawn. On rareoccasions, I eraseso much I wearahole in the page.
After living with Grandmother, I am left with traces and impressions
of her from my experiences with her, from family lore about her, and in
how I have come to construct my identity in relation to her. I lived with
my grandmother and my mentally disabled mother (we called it retard-
ed back then) from the ages of seven through sixteen. Before February
of 1972, we lived homeless, off and on, around the country, traveling
with my father who was a sex offender (Rambo Ronai 1995). This
autoethnography will paint a picture of Grandmother and, in the pro-
cess, render a self-portrait of me, the writer.
Each section in this layered account represents a lifting of the cellu-
loid and the wax paper from the mystic writing pad. Each vignette
leaves a new trace on the pad. Notice how, as each impression is made,
our identities shift, change, and reinterpret what went before.
* * *
I wanted so much for Grandmother to love me, but it just wasn't
possible.
564 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
Very little exists in the literature regarding grandmothers and their
impact on the identity formation of their grandchildren. What has been
done is primarily survey research on topics such as Mexican American
mother, daughter, and grandmother triads and intergenerational aca-
demic aspirations (Hernandez, Vargas-Lew, and Martinez 1994); how
the presence of a grandmother in African American families affects the
verbal behaviors between other adults in the household and children
(Hinton et al. 1995); the impact of grandmothers on the academic self-
concept of black high school seniors (Johnsen and Medley 1978); how
African American live-in grandmothers'behaviors are characterized as
either controlling and punishing or supportive and punishing, depend-
ing on who else lives in the household (Pearson et al. 1990); and how
the presence of a grandmother in the household increases the percep-
tion of a moral-religious emphasis in the household (Tolson and Wilson
1990).
Other research examines how positive interactions with mothers,
grandmothers, and significant others serve to insulate poor teenage
girls from persistent derogatory labeling from higher-status teenagers
and adult authorities (Victor 2004). Kostelecky and Bass (2004) survey
forty-eight grandmotheradult granddaughter pairs in order to better
understand their levels of satisfaction in their relationships with each
other. Caputo (2002) uses National Longitudinal Survey data and logis-
tic regression analysis to determine that African American grandmoth-
ers who resided with their grandchildren will be four times more likely
than whites to have daughters who reside with their grandchildren.
Woodward (1995) contends that the examination of the grand-
mother's role in identity formation is largely invisible in psychoana-
lytic theory and research due to Freud's emphasis on sexuality. By
defining an individual in terms of her sexuality, the older woman
(beyond childbearing age) is, Woodward argues, dismissed as an unfit
object of analysis. Woodward suggests that identity (especially for
women) is based as much on generational linkage as on sexuality. She
believed that feminist praxis (Stanley 1990) would remedy some of the
gaps in the literature regarding grandmothers and their role in the
development of their grandchildren's identities.
Many have written memoirs regarding grandmothers. For instance,
Anny Bloch (1994) minutely describes her Alsatian Jewish grand-
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 565
mother with respect to her house, clothes, daily routines, habits, con-
versation, cooking, and religion. Bloch's focus is on the impact of her
grandmother's life story on her own life and culture. Strange (1996)
tells the story of Tok Nyam, a Malay great-grandmother, in an effort to
describe the changing roles of women in Malay society. Hill-Lubin
(1991) examines the portrayals of grandmothers in the autobiographies
of the African American writers Frederick Douglass, Langston Hughes,
and Maya Angelou and categorizes them as active, involved, hopeful,
and dignified.
The idea of the "looking-glass self" (Cooley [1902] 1983, cited in
Yeung and Martin 2003) suggests that a person's self-perception is built
up over time based on the responses of others to them. Cooley ([1902]
1983, cited in Yeung and Martin 2003) argues that those they see as
"ascendant" or in a higher social position than theirs have more influ-
ence on the formation of their looking-glass self. Applying a symbolic
interactionist perspective, Johnsen and Medley (1978), through the use
of a multiple-choice questionnaire, find that the mother, grandmother,
and older same-sex siblings have more impact on a student's academic
self-concept than do high school personnel. This holds true to a greater
extent for females than for males.
This portrait of my grandmother, rendered in a layered account for-
mat, will explore her impact on my identity formation through a
deconstructionist lens. It will neither be strictly a memoir nor focus on
only one or two dimensions of our relationship. Self-concept is not a
stable entity, but rather it is a viewfinder that shifts and oscillates. An
event can impact my identity today in a particular way and, with the
addition of new information, impact me differently tomorrow. Simi-
larly, as we will see, an event can impact my identity in multiple ways,
generating multiple interpretations, and be left up in the air, never
reaching closure. My identity can be said to be "in play," (Derrida
1982). Through autoethnography and deconstructionist theory, I hope
to portray my impressions of my grandmother and our relationship
together as a picture in flux, preserving some of the ambiguous, com-
plex, processual nature of our relationship. There is no "the story"
about my grandmother and me. Instead, multiple stories coexist, jos-
tling each other, shoulder to shoulder, in the crowded space of my con-
sciousness, each leaving its impression on me and bleeding into the oth-
ers. Even as I consider these stories and write this manuscript, the
stories change me.
566 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
Anne Re Jago was named after an opera star who was popular at the
time of her birth in 1905. Her family pronounced the name as "Jay-go,"
though it was "Yah-go" before her ancestors came to the United States
via Canada. Her family hid their Castilian heritage in order to assimilate
into U.S. culture.
Her father was an Oxford-trained veterinarian who made his rounds
in a 1912 Stutz Bearcat. At nine years of age, Anne Re was said to have
had a nervous breakdown. It was never explained to me what this
meant. That same year, she also learned to drive the Bearcat. Her father
was in a series of accidents so that by the age of twelve, she was regu-
larly driving him on his rounds from farm to farm. She was often
dragged out of bed to travel at all hours of the night, responding to
emergencies.
In college, Anne Re was the only woman to compete on the men's
swimming and polo teams. Weekly, she would ghost write a column of
book reviews for one of her journalism professors. She resented the fact
that she never got to sign her own name to her reviews but was also
resigned to it that as a woman and a student, it was how things went.
She once took a chemistry exam everyone was required to take col-
lege wide. Anne Re scored a 98 percent, the third highest grade scored,
ever. She was deeply embarrassed by the attention she received because
she had never attended her chemistry class and was afraid someone
would find out. She had simply read her textbook, cover to cover, the
night before.
Anne Re never made use of the B.A. she earned in journalism. She
informed me that I needed no more than an associate's degree and
enough time to meet someone and get married. Though she never had
to, she stated up front, "I am only willing to pay for two years of college
education, no more." My pursuit of a master's degree angered her; had
she lived long enough, my doctoral work would have been viewed as a
waste of time.
After college, Anne Re tried to teach elementary school but con-
fessed that the children made her a nervous wreck. After a week, she
quit. She stayed on another week until they could find someone to
replace her. She commented that the children were sad to see her go
because they really enjoyed all of her different styled shoes.
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 567
My grandfather, whom I never met, was John Butler Hall. My grand-
mother characterizedhim asthe "good-looking, good-for-nothing, son-
of-a-bitch, black sheep son of an otherwise good and wealthy family."
They married and moved to Florida where Anne Re helped run a hotel,
which was owned by the Butler family. John ended up working as a
lineman for Florida Power, a job Anne Re was said to have procured for
him.
Anne Re gave birth to a son, John Butler Jr.; four years later, a men-
tally retarded daughter, Suzanne; and twelve years later, another daugh-
ter, Kathy, the baby who was supposed to save the marriage. She didn't,
and Anne Re and John Butler were divorced after the pregnancy. She
ended up raising her children by herself at a time when, I was told, "you
just didn't get divorced." She took in laundry and boarders while she
moved her own family to the large back porch to live.
In later years, she managed hotels and became a secretary for a firm
that sold fishing tackle. It was said she typed 135 words a minute and
was the fastest thing on any business machine you put in front of her.
She added long columns of numbers in her head and always yelled at
me for not being able to do the same. She lamented that she was faster
and did more work than all of the men in the office, more work even
than the official accountant they employed, yet she was paid only one-
third of his salary. They spelled it out to her when she asked about it--
she got lessbecause she was a woman and they knew she wouldn't leave
because she needed the work.
In February of 1972, when I was seven, I arrived on her doorstep in
St. Petersburg, Florida, with long matted hair. I did not own underwear
or a toothbrush. Grandmother was very angry and spelled it out to me:
"I have already raised two families, one with John and your mother, one
with Kathy and your mother. Don't expect much from me, no PTA, no
Girl Scouts. I have to take care of you, but I don't have to like it. I
wanted your mother to have an abortion when she got pregnant with
you. I'll feed you, put a roof over your head, that's it."
Three weeks later, my grandmother threw my father, Frank Rambo,
out of her house and told him to get a job. A couple months later, my
father was arrested for indecent exposure in the park--he had exposed
himself to a child. My grandmother was humiliated. She hissed, "My
friends can't wait to call and express their condolences, but I can hear
them on the other end of the line--gloating."
568 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
She despised me.I wasFrank'sdaughter and she couldn't forget it.
* * *
It is 1973 and I am in the third grade. I decide I will make something
special for my grandmother. Using construction paper, ribbon, and
glue, I make a "best grandmother in the world" award. At a dinner party
she is throwing to entertain her friends, I present it to her. She looks at it,
puts it down on the end table, takes a sip from her cocktail, and goes on
talking with her friends.
Later in the evening, as she passes through the living room, I ask
excitedly, "Did you like your award?"
Grandmother stops, turns angrily toward me, and snaps, "What do
you expect me to do, wear that thing? Take it to work and show my
friends?"
* * *
I have come home from school with a proof from our individual class
portraits. I hand it to Grandmother and leave the room. When I return,
she comments on it to my mother, "I am not impressed, the space
between those teeth is just hideous. Her smile is awful. I wish she had
closed her mouth when she smiled. That space between her teeth makes
her so common looking. And she looks just like Frank. Hideous. I'll
buy these pictures this year, but don't ever expect me to buy them
again."
* * *
My Uncle Bob, Aunt Kathy's husband, is talking about Lauren
Hutton, a famous model/actress with a space between her teeth. He
says, "As she became more powerful in the industry, she decided to be
seen out in public without her dental device. I think she is beautiful
either way, and I admire her for having the courage to be herself." I
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 569
know my uncle is saying this to make me feel better about how I look. I
love him for it, but he can't fool me. I know I am ugly.
* * *
I have just committed some offense. I am standing in front of Grand-
mother's chair as she castigates me. "Get that stupid look off your face.
You look just like your father when you hang your face that way."
I try desperately to adjust it.
She screams, "That's even worse, quit hanging your face that way.
Wipe that look off your face."
I try again. And again.
Over and over she screams, "Get that look off your face."
Repeat this scene throughout my childhood.
* * *
In 1986, when I was twenty-one, before I got married, I had the space
between my teeth closed so that when I met my new in-laws-to-be, I
wouldn't be so unattractive and common looking. I was desperate to
make a good impression on them.
* * *
The next year, after she died, I was going through Grandmother's
pictures and found one of a somewhat ugly, skinny woman with a space
between her teeth. I asked my Aunt Kathy if the woman was a relative.
She said, "That's a picture of your grandmother when she was in
college."
* * *
At one stage of learning to draw, I used a viewfinder, a small frame
cut out of paper or cardboard, which had the same height-width ratio as
the paper I drew on. On both the viewfinder and the paper, I marked the
570 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 571
edges in halves and quarters. The object was to hold up the viewfinder
and see my subject through it. Through observing negative and positive
spaces inside the viewfinder, I could lay out the same negative and posi-
tive spaces on my paper, thus giving me a first, rough approximation of
the layout of my picture. I described with my lines what was there and
not there, presence and absence. The picture emerged out of the
juxtapositioning of the parts that were my subject and the parts that
were not, relative to the frame. The lines in this story and the shaping of
an identity are like this, too.
As I write, my writing format, the theory, and my identity are all
viewfinders I see my subject through. With my prose, I describe what is
there, and through inference, the reader constructs what is not there--
presence and absence. The story emerges out of the juxtapositioning of
the lines I write relative to the various frames. When I think of this rep-
resentation of my grandmother as an autoethnographic sketch, the con-
cept of the mystic sketchpad becomes a viewfinder, a small frame cut
out of reality, which serves as a sensitizing concept. The layered
account format is my mystic sketchpad. As each story is told, the layers
are superimposed one over the other. The accumulation of the tracesleft
behind is an illustration of the processual nature of identity formation.
Likewise, an identity is a viewfinder, also a small frame cut out of
reality, which orients me toward the world. Through my identity, I see
myself in relation to others and the world, through both presences and
absences--who I am, who I am not, who they are, who they are not. I
always stand in relation to my subject through the viewfinder of my
identity; thus my identity frames this autoethnographic sketch.
Grandmother tells me who I am, and I take that as an early approxi-
mation of reality. As time moves on, I internalize other impressions that
force me to adjust the first impressions of self I recorded, the ones she
initially projected onto my identity. When I come to understand that my
grandmother had a gap between her teeth that she had "fixed," I can
extrapolate that she felt "awful, hideous, and common." I can under-
stand what it must have felt like for her to desperately need to eliminate
her Georgia accent and to learn how to drink to fit in with John Butler's
family and friends. Before I ever knew about the gap in my grand-
mother's teeth, I too was desperate to fix it and make a good impression
on my fiancé's family. Upon this realization, my grandmother's iden-
tity, for me, became transformed from that of a mean old woman who
hated me to a scared young woman who always felt like she did not
quite belong in the "upper class." I can reframe her story about me to be
572 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
a story about her. But even as I consciously understand this, traces of
her impressions of me are still left behind, always influencing my
emergent identity.
Derrida's (1982) nonconcept of differance alludes to the idea that
meaning exists in reference to other meanings. When pursuing the
meaning of a concept, it is understood relative to other meanings,
which, in turn, also exist in relation to still more meanings, and so forth
into infinity. There is no firm reference point that cannot be decons-
tructed as existing in relation to something else.
Theory and identity,conceptualized asframesorviewfinders,become
temporarily imposed reference points or sensitizing concepts. They
hold chaos still for a second so that we may orient toward the world.
They are never "real"and do not exist in the present because their mean-
ings are always deferred to still other meanings. Theory and identity are
located in how they differ from other theories and identities. This too is
open ended and evaporates into infinity.
Each frame offers a singular perspective, a static, synchronic, snap-
shot of the world. Taken by itself, each frame is incomplete, a lie. Each
frame does not offer, on its own, an emergent illustration of identity as a
process. More than one perspective is necessary for that.
* * *
When I was a reporter for my junior college's school newspaper,
everyone on staff was responsible to participate in laying out the pages
of the paper. Before the dominance of computers, we used nonphoto-
graphic blue pencils, border tape, T-squares, and exacto knives. News-
paper photos were printed using a five-layer ink process, one that filled
in the black pixels and four that filled in other colors. A template would
be created for each color on a celluloid sheet. By itself, each template
made little sense to a viewer, but with the templates superimposed upon
each other, a picture would emerge.
* * *
I am doing something in my grandmother's bedroom as she is on the
phone with a department store clerk. The ice in her empty drink rattles
assertively.
"My name is not Annie, goddammit! It is Anne Re, I have sterling
credit, your records are wrong. I've paid this. I don't owe this amount;
it's not overdue. Get me your supervisor!"
I listen intently, absorbing the fact that other people endure my
grandmother's wrath besides me.
When the supervisor comes on the phone, Grandmother calmly
relays the situation to him. Without any further outbursts, the situation
is resolved. As she hangs up, she says, "I've worked hard to have good
credit. You can't let them steamroll you."
She is so powerful to me, with her good credit history and her ability
to stand up to them over the phone.
* * *
I relay this story to my Uncle Bob. He laughs. "Anne Re doesn't take
shit, that's for sure."
* * *
I am in my doctoral program. My major professor has confided to me
that other professors have asked him, "How do you work with Carol?
How do you control her?" He tells me, "I just laughed at them. What's
to control? She's fine. She just doesn't take shit, that's all." I am thrilled
but try hard to repress the grin spreading across my face. I am not as
smart,fast, athletic, or attractive, but in this one way, I amlikeAnne Re.
* * *
I am fifteen. I walk across the dining room to the kitchen with my
girlfriend, wearing shorts and a midriff top. Out of nowhere, Grand-
mother leans forward in her lime-green chair and starts screaming in a
rage, "I could throw it too when I was your age. I could cut a figure. I
had a tail on me, and a chest! Don't think I couldn't throw it. I could
really throw it."
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 573
Surprised and terrified, I do not acknowledge her but instead con-
tinue my walk stiffly across the dining room, through the kitchen, and
out to the Florida room. I turn to my friend Cheryl and say, "I'm so
sorry, I'm so embarrassed, I don't know what happened with her."
Cheryl looks at me and says, "Carol, she's nuts. You didn't do any-
thing wrong. How do you live like this?"
* * *
I have just come back from the beach. As I walk in the door, Grand-
mother looks me over, laughs, and comments, "I don't know why you
don't give up on tanning. If I spent that much time in the sun, I'd be as
brown as a berry. It's effortless for me when I sunbathe. Why don't you
just give up? You're wasting your time."
* * *
I am on the living room floor, stretching, and Grandmother is watch-
ing Ironside on the television as she sips on an afternoon cocktail of
bourbon on the rocks. She looks over at what I am doing and says, "I
wish you could just sit still. You drive me nuts and make me a nervous
wreck. And you're not even very good at calisthenics." She stands in
front of her chair, bends over, and keeping her legs straight, touches her
toes. "See?" she says, "I don't have to work at it, I can always do that. In
fact I can, I think . . ." She bends forward farther and places her palms on
the floor with her elbows bent. "There, see? I can even put my palms flat
on the floor." She smiles, very satisfied with herself. "I don't have to
work at it," she announces. As she rises up from the floor, she stumbles
but catches herself. "Woooo. I don't do that very much any more. I
should be more careful," she says, as she sits back down in her chair.
No, I say to myself, you drink too much.
* * *
574 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
When I was ten years of age, my grandmother finally found out
about the incest with my father. She was furious at my mother and me.
She pressed me for details about what specifically happened with my
father but seemed unable to understand what I was describing to her.
I chose to wear my best white dress when we went to the lawyer's
office to get a restraining order against him. At the office, both the law-
yer and I had to explain to Grandmother what oral sex was--specifi-
cally, she did not know that men could put their mouths on female geni-
talia. In the lawyer's office, she commented that the white dress I was
wearing was a joke. The lawyer laughed.
Later, she handed me three romance novels and said, "Here, see what
you think. There isn't any need to keep such things from you now.
You're not innocent any more. You already know too much, much more
than you are supposed to. You've had sex. You are a woman now,
whether you want it or not."
* * *
I was shocked. Does having sex (and with your father) make you a
woman?
* * *
I was shocked. I hid the books in my closet for months, taking them
out to peek at them here and there before I finally got the courage to read
them.
* * *
I was shocked. The books were a scream, but as so-called romance
novels, they were pretty trashy. I was already reading better stuff than
this. What was it she was trying to accomplish with these books? I felt
so stupid because I couldn't figure it out.
* * *
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 575
I was shocked. An ineffable void opened up in me and swallowed me
whole, turning me inside out. At ten, I did not know to ask the question,
"Is my childhood really gone?" I did not have words to describe hope
physically leaving my body. I did not know that her cavalier response to
my most painful revelations deflated my capacity for joy and my will to
live. I did not understand how absolutely alone I was.
* * *
I was shocked. Numb. Frozen. Twisted inside. Unable to respond.
* * *
I am still shocked. I don't know why she gave me those books. The
only thing I can think of is that she didn't want to have to talk to me
about sex, menstruation, or anything else that had an emotional charge
to it.
* * *
My aunt warned me about this battle, so when I got my period at
almost fourteen, I was ready for her.
"I will not wear pads; they are like a mattress between my legs, and
they are gross. No one else I know wears them," I say.
"Go to hell! You will stop arguing with me and wear what I buy for
you."
Grandmother forbade me to wash my hair more than once a week,
did not believe a woman should bathe when she had her period, and
would not let me shave my underarms or legs. My mother still lives by
these rules to this day. Like my Aunt Kathy before me, I had to sneak all
of these activities behind Grandmother's back and lie to her.
Grandmother, it was said, did not sweat, and did not grow hair under
her arms or on her legs. The lore was that besides her Castilian heritage,
she had some "Indian" blood in her and she worked hard to hide them
both. When I started getting underarm hair at nine, Grandmother
informed me that I was nasty and would need to hide it.
576 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
I say, "You don't understand how wrong you are about this. No one
wears pads, and certainly no one wears the kind with the sanitary belts.
The sanitary belts are not very sanitary. I won't wear them."
My grandmother is desperate as a high-pitched whine works its way
into her voice, "Why are you talking about this so much? We're not sup-
posed to talk about this topic this much. You arespending way too much
time talking about this. Wear your goddamn tampons if it will shut you
up, if you promise to not bring it up again."
"Can I have the money to go buy them?" I ask.
She reaches into her purse. "Now no more about it," she barks at me
as I take the money and leave the house.
* * *
As Kathy tells the story, while doing Kathy's laundry, Grandmother
found blood on her underclothing. She called Kathy home from a
friend's house and told her that her underwear were stained and to put
the pad and belt on. Kathy was told nothing else. Her friend's mother
explained it all to Kathy, later, after Kathy had confessed to them that
she was "bleeding out her tail," thought she might have cancer, and was
dying.
* * *
Going through Grandmother's pictures, I find one of her walking
assertively along the street. She is elegant and stunning in a Chanel suit,
with her long sleek black hair tucked back in a bun. I ask Grandmother
about the picture. She says, "I was seven months pregnant there. I never
did show very much. Men still honked at me on the street. All my deliv-
eries were short and trouble free. The doctors said I had perfect propor-
tions for pregnancy and childbirth. I was a natural."
* * *
I gained fifty pounds during my pregnancy. It took almost three years
to drop the last forty pounds. My labor took thirty-one hours.
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 577
578 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
I am seventeen. Grandmother has a broken hip, again. She has
recently been admitted to a nursing home for a six-week recuperation
period when I go to visit her. As I stand at the foot of her bed, talking
with her, two male attendants enter the room.
"Time for you to go get x-rayed, Annie," one says to her. I study her
face carefully to see what will register there because I can't believe they
are calling my grandmother "Annie." She hates that and fiercely cor-
rects anyone who uses it.
"We're gonna have to lift you offa this bed and onto this gurney," the
other one says asthey both position themselvesto lift her up and over.
My grandmother's almost toothless, haggard face sports a grin as she
looks intently between the two of them. "I know ya'll don't need to take
me anywhere, you're just trying to look up my skirt."
The two men stop, dead in their tracks, and look at her. She is barely
smiling, studying their reaction. Next they look at me. I know no more
about what is going on than they do. Then they look across her at each
other. Broad grins spread across both of their faces.
"You caught us, Annie," one says.
"Yup, you caught us," the other joins in.
As they move her from the bed to the gurney, she says, "I knew it,
ya'll are always trying to peek up my skirt." She smoothes the fabric of
her hospital gown down over her legs, as if it had risen up too high and
needed adjusting. To my shock and dismay, my grandmother is rolled
away from me, laughing with the attendants, playing the coquette,
without her ever acknowledging my presence again.
* * *
I am forced to rethink everything I think I know about her.
* * *
I am being a sneak, going through my grandmother's drawers while
she is away. I am eight years of age, and she feels comfortable enough to
leave me at the house by myself for an hour or two at a time. I am wise
enough to know to covermy tracks if I want her to continue to do this.
I discover her bankbook, certificates of deposit (both of which I will
start to manage, with her supervision, when I am twelve years old), and
other documents. I also find a picture of her, deeply tanned, sitting in a
strange man's lap, wearing a strappy, low-cut sundress with a huge stiff
skirt that even though it would typically fall below her knees, angles
upward in such a manner as to show off her extraordinary legs. She is
relaxed and laughing outright with a drink in her hand. I have never seen
her that happy in my presence. I recognize the structure of her face, but I
do not know who this tanned sun goddess really is.
* * *
With giggling in the background, the screen door swings open and a
persistent, demanding, knock pounds on the front door. I open the door
a crack, and Walter is holding my grandmother around her waist as she
leans against him. LaVerne, one of my grandmother's closest friends
and Walter's girlfriend, is in the background on the porch. At first, I am
scared Grandmother is sick. I am overwhelmed and try to help Walter
get her to the chair, but I am too small.
Walter says, "It's okay, Carol Anne," and whisks her up into his arms
and carries her into her bedroom. Grandmother giggles the whole way,
kicking her legs.
LaVerne, still on the porch, says to me, "She just had too much to
drink. She'll sleep it off."
I relax and thank Walter for taking care of her when he comes back
out of the room. He looks slightly red and disheveled as he smiles and
tells me she will be okay. I trust Water because he is a retired dentist,
which is sort of like a doctor, so he should know. As he goes out the
door, LaVerne says something to him I cannot understand. She sounds
angry.
The next morning, I tell Grandmother the whole story (she remem-
bered none of it), including LaVerne's sounding angry.
Grandmother said, "Oh, she's just jealous 'cause Walter is interested
in me. I have no interest in a man though, so I won't have him. Why do I
want to cook, clean, and take care of a man too? Not me. She doesn't
need to worry. I'll also bet she is jealous because Walter could never
pick her up. She's too big."
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 579
* * *
The picture of the tanned sun goddess and this one event were such
anomalies, I never thought much about them before. Who was this?
* * *
I am nineteen and visiting my grandmother during a different short
stay at a different nursing home. The attendant takes me aside. "You
know, if your grandmother can't follow the rules, she will not be per-
mitted to stay here."
"What rules? What do you mean?" I ask.
"Well apparently she has been talking some of the male residents
into sneaking in cigarettes and bourbon for her. That is strictly prohib-
ited and for a good reason. Today, your grandmother was smoking a
cigarette in bed when she fell asleep. Apparently it fell in the trash and
caught the can on fire. We had to evacuate the entire building while the
fire department came to deal with the situation."
I restrain a smile and thank the nurse for telling me. As I walk toward
her room, I picture my grandmother talking these men into doing this. I
admire her for pulling it off. Though she will never find out about it, I
have just started stripping at a strip club about a month ago.
* * *
My aunt is breathless on the phone, excited. "Carol, it's been the
booze all along. She's not allowed to drink; I finally have my mother
back. It's wonderful. We can really talk and everything." The absence of
having an experience like she describes with my grandmother pierces
me. I am intensely jealous, sad, and slightly disbelieving. We are talk-
ing about Anne Re; I have never met this woman whom Kathy says she
"has back."
580 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
* * *
I approach the nurses' station at the intensive care unit. The ICU
nurse on the phone says, "Anne Re Hall just expired a few minutes ago."
I hasten to the counter and step up.
"What did she just say? My grandmother is Anne Re Hall." Immedi-
ately everyone stops what they are doing, and a nun comes out from
behind the counter and puts her hands on me to console me. The nurse
starts to explain that my grandmother has just passed. The nun pats me
as I try to slide out from her grasp, quietly. She proceeds to put her arm
around my waist. Enraged, I pull away. She tries again to put her arm
around me and tells me, "Everything is going to be all right."
I want to deck the fucking nun. Instead, I shake her off violently, turn
on her, and snarl, "Get off me." She raises both hands, backs away, and
disappears from the scene. A male nurse comes out from behind the
counter, extends his hand, and introduces himself. "Hi, I'm Brad. I was
in the room when she passed. If you have any questions, or need any-
thing, I'm happy to help."
I shake the extended hand and immediately start to interview him
about what her last few minutes were like. He is all business and I like
that. He takes me and my husband Jack aside to a lounge and tells me
that they could have resuscitated her but the doctors chose not to. I ask if
I can see her. At first he says it isn't a good idea. I stare at him quietly,
not understanding.
He says, "It's a war zone in there, give me a minute to clean up."
I wait nervously with Jack until Brad shows us to the door and
opens it.
As I walk in, Grandmother's lifeless body lies on the bed, one eye
open, one eye half closed. I gasp and start to fall. Jack catches my waist
on his forearm, and I let myself fall over it. As I weep violently, gasping,
unable to catch my breath, I wonder if some part of her is still there and
can see me carrying on like this. I try to straighten up as I look at Grand-
mother on the bed, but I fall over weeping again. Jack is crying too. As
the grief runs out of me, I eventually regain my composure, stand
straight, and walk around her bed. The place is littered with little bits of
cloth, plastic, and blood. If this is the cleaned-up version, then this truly
was a war zone.
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 581
I stand and stare at my dead grandmother. I start crying with a new
violence as I grip her bed railing. She shrunk an inch in height from
osteoporosis. The last time she weighed, she was only 76 pounds. But
all the same, on this day, I recognize her. She is my future. I have the
same figure, waist, and legs. That will be my dead body. I am not crying
for her or about her now, if I ever did. I weep violently at the startling
and present knowledge that I will be a lifeless body, like this, soon
enough. No escape.
* * *
In the end, between the sale of the house, Grandmother's conserva-
tive investments, and her scraping and scrimping, there was enough
money to create a trust fund so that none of us had to bear the financial
responsibility of taking care of my mentally disabled mother.
* * *
As I look around my home now, traces of my grandmother are every-
where: the Victorian-era tables and Queen Anne chair, the cabinet from
the 1950s-era stereo, the Haviland China, other dishes she collected, a
gold watch, some costume jewelry, and more. When I look in the mir-
ror, I seeher square faceand her figure. I amtaller and I carry more mus-
cle and more weight than she did. I'm not asgraceful and coordinated as
she was, but because I bike, jog, lift weights, and don't smoke or abuse
alcohol, I am stronger and maybe faster than she ever was.
I have a blood sugar problem (hypoglycemia) that makes me prone
to mood swings if I do not pay close attention to my carbohydrate and
protein intake. Sometimes when I feel the irritability that can result
from not eating well, I remember my grandmother's screaming, "Stop
all that commotion!" and wonder if she was hypoglycemic also. Alco-
holics frequently are. I rememberhow hard it wasfor mebefore I under-
stood my body chemistry and wonder if her life would have been differ-
ent if she had understood hers.
I love my grandmother. She was elegant, smart, and resourceful;
both admired and respected. I disliked my grandmother. She was high
strung, petty, and mean. Beyond those judgments, she was a survivor.
582 JOURNAL OF CONTEMPORARY ETHNOGRAPHY / OCTOBER 2005
Much of what I aspire to be and not be is wrapped up in how I see her. I
feel fortunate that aspects of me are like her, and some of my worst fear
regarding myself is that I am like her. My picture of us will be under
revision as long as I am alive.
My grandmother impacted my identity with a force perhaps equal to
or greater than my father and mother's. This account stands as a portrait
of Grandmother on its own. Yet I have lifted the celluloid and drawn
again. This account can be layered over my 1995 publication that
appeared in the pages of the Journal of Contemporary Ethnography, to
produce yet another portrait of our identities.
These memoirs employ a feminist praxis by combining personal
reflections with theory to illustrate how my identity is continuously
built up, over time, through traces of her. Unlike survey research, this
autoethnographic layered account enables me to focus on my grand-
mother's impact on my identity as an emergent process, rather than
focusing on a singular dimension or aspect of identity. Whether they are
conceived of as images or words, Derrida (1976) might say that our
identities are always sous rature or under erasure. Because we rely on
words and concepts to sensitize us or orient us to the world, we are
enabled and constrained by them. The words are never "true" reflec-
tions of reality; they merely point in a direction. There is no original or
"true" Grandmother to apprehend; there is only endless, reflexive rela-
tivity. Her identity exists sous rature. I reflect on an image of her I carry
with me and draw her for you, but she was never there. She is always
under erasure.
So I draw this portrait for the reader, with the understanding that it is
and is not who we are. The words and images sensitize and orient my
identity for the second and become redrawn as something else in the
next instance. Draw, lift, erase, draw again, all the while leaving
impressions embedded in the wax slab below.
So I am like her. I am not like her. I am related to her. I exist in relation
to her. I exist in reaction to her. I amsomething other than this relation to
her. She has made her impression on me. I am impressed by her. I am
unimpressed with her. She is in me, I am of her, she is other, she is nei-
ther me nor other, but something else. She is a story I carry with me. The
lines of her story and the lines on her face are still etched in my mind. I
continue to draw and paint, carefully erasing old lines, laying down new
ones, always in a continuous process of exploration, correction, and
adjustment. Both negative and positive spaces, relative to the frame, lay
Rambo / IMPRESSIONS OF GRANDMOTHER 583
out a picture of our reality. Pull out the eraser, pull up the wax paper and
celluloid; wipe the surface clean. But beneath lie impressions that will
always stay with me.
* * *
Back in May of 2005, I talked to my aunt on the phone. I said, "You
know, she had to have known what Frank was. After all, who is attracted
to a mentally disabled woman? Grandmother just went along with it
because it got Suzanne and me out of her hair. It gave her a chance to
socialize at the yacht club and cocktail parties. She was able to live a
normal life for a while. I can't entirely blame her, but still . . ."
My aunt said, quietly, "Carol, you have it all wrong. She was very
worried when Frank disappeared with you and Suzanne. Suzanne
would call home every now and then and tell her some of what was
going on, but your grandmother was worried every day. She even had a
social worker who tracked you all to New Orleans. I found some letters
and papers--I think I should let you have a look at them . . ."
* * *
So, do I have it all wrong? Her portrait is still under revision.
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<volume>81</volume> (<issue>3</issue>): <fpage>843</fpage>-<lpage>879</lpage>.</citation></ref></ref-list></back></article></istex:document></istex:metadataXml><mods version="3.6"><titleInfo lang="en"><title>Impressions of Grandmother</title><subTitle>An Autoethnographic Portrait</subTitle></titleInfo><titleInfo type="alternative" lang="en" contentType="CDATA"><title>Impressions of Grandmother</title><subTitle>An Autoethnographic Portrait</subTitle></titleInfo><name type="personal"><namePart type="given">Carol</namePart><namePart type="family">Rambo</namePart><affiliation>University of Memphis</affiliation></name><typeOfResource>text</typeOfResource><genre type="research-article" displayLabel="research-article" authority="ISTEX" authorityURI="https://content-type.data.istex.fr" valueURI="https://content-type.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/XTP-1JC4F85T-7">research-article</genre><originInfo><publisher>Sage Publications</publisher><place><placeTerm type="text">Sage CA: Thousand Oaks, CA</placeTerm></place><dateIssued encoding="w3cdtf">2005-10</dateIssued><copyrightDate encoding="w3cdtf">2005</copyrightDate></originInfo><language><languageTerm type="code" authority="iso639-2b">eng</languageTerm><languageTerm type="code" authority="rfc3066">en</languageTerm></language><abstract lang="en">Through the use of a layered account format, the author sketches, through a juxtapositioning of vignettes and impressions, an autoethnographic portrait of her grandmother. Derrida’s concepts such as the “mystic writing pad,” “differance,” and “sous rature” serve as frames through which to gaze at the emergent nature of identity formation across time. Various aspects of the author’s grandmother’s character, positive, negative, and shades of gray, are illustrated through descriptions of drawing. Through reflexivity, she will show how some of the impressions her grandmother left with her manifest in her. Derrida’s concepts, the layered account format, and drawing, serve individually as viewfinders that offer snapshots of her grandmother and her but, taken together, build up traces and impressions that merge and blend into an illustration of identity as a process and thus an autoethnographic portrait.</abstract><subject><genre>keywords</genre><topic>grandmothers</topic><topic>autoethnography</topic><topic>ethnography</topic><topic>deconstruction</topic><topic>identity</topic><topic>layered account</topic></subject><relatedItem type="host"><titleInfo><title>Journal of contemporary ethnography</title></titleInfo><genre type="journal" authority="ISTEX" authorityURI="https://publication-type.data.istex.fr" valueURI="https://publication-type.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/JMC-0GLKJH51-B">journal</genre><identifier type="ISSN">0891-2416</identifier><identifier type="eISSN">1552-5414</identifier><identifier type="PublisherID">JCE</identifier><identifier type="PublisherID-hwp">spjce</identifier><part><date>2005</date><detail type="volume"><caption>vol.</caption><number>34</number></detail><detail type="issue"><caption>no.</caption><number>5</number></detail><extent unit="pages"><start>560</start><end>585</end></extent></part></relatedItem><identifier type="istex">613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67</identifier><identifier type="ark">ark:/67375/M70-6GKXMN8J-5</identifier><identifier type="DOI">10.1177/0891241605279079</identifier><identifier type="ArticleID">10.1177_0891241605279079</identifier><recordInfo><recordContentSource authority="ISTEX" authorityURI="https://loaded-corpus.data.istex.fr" valueURI="https://loaded-corpus.data.istex.fr/ark:/67375/XBH-0J1N7DQT-B">sage</recordContentSource></recordInfo></mods><json:item><extension>json</extension><original>false</original><mimetype>application/json</mimetype><uri>https://api.istex.fr/document/613013EA002DD80A1AF3191BC54F2A48F6058E67/metadata/json</uri></json:item></metadata><serie></serie></istex></record>Pour manipuler ce document sous Unix (Dilib)
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