Ode to Informants

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Ode to Informants

• A Literary Journey

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A poem BYTHE 409 INFORMANTS IN THE PHASE ii
STUDY
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EDITED BY CarrieLynn D. ReinhardNoelle M.
KarnoltBrenda Dervin CONTRIBUTIONS BY Kasey L.
Martini, Teena Berberick, Elizabeth K. Kelley,
Noelle M. Karnolt, Sarah K. Adamson,
Susan M. Mills, Elizabeth M. Brewer,
Anne E. McDaniel, Samantha Mower November 2006
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DEDICATED TO THE409 COLLEGE AND UNIVERSITY
FACULTY GRADUATE STUDENTS UNDERGRADUATES FROM
44 INSTITUTIONS IN CENTRAL OHIOwho gave on
average more than two hours of their timeto
answer both our online self-administered survey
and our in-depth phone interview. The extents
of their sincerity and commitment were awesome to
experience. We are thankful beyond what words
can express.
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The stanzas of this poem are single line
statements taken verbatim from interview
transcripts. They may be informants exact
words although we cannot be sure because they are
words filtered by the hearing ears of at least
one and sometimes two interviewers and as many as
three transcribers. Nevertheless we culled the
statements out to create this ode to honor our
informants because they lifted our spirits, made
us laugh, or got us in touch with the humanity
which is the foundation of what Sense-Making
Methodology reaches for in its interviewing
approaches but which is sometimes hard to
remember when involved in more than 20,000 person
hours of sampling, interviewing, transcribing,
and analyzing. Informants were telling us what
stopped them... what they learned... what
questions they had... what helps they sought and
got... what sources they turned to... which
helped... which didnt... and what would have
helped if they could have waved a magic wand.
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Trustworthy is a difficult word.
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God can do anything but fail.
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My yin is going to fit your yang.
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It is an area of reality that remains a bit
fuzzy.
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Because I guess our voices of thinking is their
friends
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More like Nazi I am going to tear you apart
science.
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In a social society the rule is not always on my
side.
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I guess to have Jesus Christ come back and say,
You two settle down, okay?
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And when power speaks, everyone will keep silent.
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In order to put a personal scent on my work.
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I learned not to put the broomstick through the
ceiling.
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That is how I got in trouble, waving the magic
wand.
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I kind of have to live that lifestyle, the
average American, run around like a chicken
with your head cut off lifestyle.
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Things happen in life that kind of just make
bumps in the road.
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In science, nothing is ever truly complete.
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One of them turned out to be a bombin mole.
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To not trust guys over 30 because theyre crafty!
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Well, I didnt go out and find the flu!
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I would have been tinc-alinc-alinc with my nose.
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Why do I have like an insatiable appetite for
women?
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My boss is a weenie.
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He gave me looks that seemed like they came from
Satan himself.
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You know, like the low person on the
toe-dam-poll.
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It will make you forget too many things when you
sit before the computer for the whole day.
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I am not the objective final truth knower.
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I am beginning to feel some forms of capitalism
are nothing more than feudalism meets algebra!
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Most nonfiction text book academic type
approaches engage in a form of what I call
academic terrorism.
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I fall short of the full you get like
inspirational smartness needed to design matter
transmitters.
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The books are too fat.
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You cant just go into the library and say Im
going to call up this problem and I want solution
23.
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It was a lot more convenient than driving all
around Gods creations.
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I didnt even lose the flaming volcanic temper
that I got from my parents I was as cool as a
morning breeze.
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So I guess you dont know whats most important
to you until youre running out the door and
your house is on fire.
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I want to relieve my brain sponge
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Somebody to crack my brain open and pour the
knowledge into my head.
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You know, is it getting to the point where, you
know, like, you know, you just need to?
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THE POEM WITH WHICH WE END WAS WRITTEN BY HANS
BRUNO SELYE (1907-1982), Canadian
endocrinologist of Austro-Hungarian origins FOR
US, ITS MESSAGE HAS A SYNCHRONICITY WITH THE WAYS
IN WHICH WE HOPED TO HEAR OUR INFORMANTS Selye,
H. (1950). Stress. Montreal, CA Acta,
Inc. Rosch, P.J. (n.d.) Reminscences of Hans
Selye, and the birth of stress. Online
documents. Retrieved October 25, 2006 from
http//www.stress.org/
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• To Those Who In Their Efforts For
• Good Or Evil, For Peace Or War
• Have Sustained Wounds, Loss Of Blood
• Or Exposure To Extremes Of Temperature
• Hunger, Fatigue, Want Of Air,
• Infections, Poisons, Or Deadly Rays.

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• To Those Who Are Under The
• Exhausting Nervous Strain Of Pursuing Their Ideal
  Whatever It May Be
• To The Martyrs Who Sacrifice Themselves
• For Others, As Well As To Those Hounded By
  Selfish Ambition, Fear, Jealousy,
• And Worst Of All By Hate.
• For My Stress Stems From The Urge
• To Help And Not To Judge.

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• But Most Personally,
• This Book Is Dedicated To My Wife,
• Who Helped So Much To Write It,
• For She Understood That I Cannot, And
• Should Not, Be Cured Of My Stress
• But Merely Taught To Enjoy It.
• Hans Selye, 1950