Prepared by Rodney Frey
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It was a rough road we traveled that day. Some might say there was no road at all. We were in the high mesa-country, open to the sky and the winds. Not much in the way of trees, mostly sagebrush and rock. The rough edge of the horizon was still, though a woodchuck, motionless and undetected just a moment before, darted from its perch as we passed. Even the clouds seemed suspended, fixed in the sky. Then the left wheel of our 4x4 hit a rock, and there was plenty of motion. We traveled on for some time, on our way to the "bison range."
Suddenly Marshall slammed on the brakes and jumped from the pick-up. His rifle was in hand, having lifted it from its window rack as he slid out the door. The rifle was aimed to the sky and the trigger pulled. The sound echoed in the silence. The bullet whisked past the eagle. After a pause, as we both watched the bird fly on, Marshall said, "The Eagle chose not to be shot, not to give itself to us this day!"
With his right hand raise from the steering wheel, palm to the sky and the flight of the bird, Marshall said in a whisper of a voice, ah'o, and we drove on in silence.
(The account of "The Eagle" was based upon a participant-observation made in the summer of 1974 on the Crow Indian Reservation in Montana.)
Cultural Stories
My premise is rather straightforward we are the stories we tell. In the stories, we define who we are, what the world is, and how we are to relate to that world. Our ways of knowing and our ways of motivating are found in our stories. Through the stories, we learn and re-affirm our basic cultural values of time and space, causation and being, and give meaning to all aspects of our lives. In the stories, we are.
We carry forth our stories and with them create our social institutions - our ways of behaving toward each other. Family, church, school, recreation, art, government, economy, science, technology, work are all animated, structured, and given meaning through our stories. We celebrate our stories at every opportunity - in Sunday worship at church or at a football stadium, in a graduation commencement or each Friday after work at the local bar, in a class or family reunion, in a hard-earned job promotion or vacation cruise to the Caribbean. We tell our stories at each juncture in our lives - at birth and on each subsequent birthday, at marriage or a divorce, and upon our death. Our own lives are inundated with our stories.
We carry forth our stories and with them create our view of the world about us and our ways of behaving toward it. How we define a landscape, the rush of water in a river, a sunset, a thunderstorm, the howl of a coyote, even the ant that walks across the kitchen table, and the flight of an eagle while in the high mesa-country. All are predicated on the stories we tell. Our aesthetic, our religious, our economic, and our scientific images of plant, animal, earth, star, and of their origins and destiny are framed in our stories. The lives of others are inundated with our stories.
Our cultural stories thus pervade all aspects of our lives, told in as many ways as humanity, in all its imagination, can find ways to express itself. From the minute and seemingly insignificant to the most expansive and grandiose, our cultural stories inform a wink of an eye, as well as can constitute an entire society and all its varied institutions. The stories are found expressed in artistic forms such as a painting or sculpture, a novel, or a movie. They are manifested in ceremonial rites such as a marriage or baptism. Architectural structures express our stories, as for example, in the design and spatial configuration of a court house, a school house, or of your own home. Stories are even found expressed in legal enactments and formal documents such as the United States Constitution and Bill of Rights, a county's land management plans, or, in fact, in the transaction each time you write a check for the purchase of some item. Stories are certainly ingrained in the histories of our country and communities, and in the history of your own family, as well as an individual's life-history. Our literatures, both written and oral, are ripe with cultural stories. Even the very patterns of your speech and body language, not to mention the particular clothing style and way you cut or wear your hair, are all examples of cultural stories.
Simply put, our humanity and our world are defined in the stories we tell each other. Without stories there can be no human being, and there is no world.
It follows then that to understand how humanity sees itself and the world, how an eagle might be understood while in the high mesa-country, we must learn something about the stories humanity or Marshall tells. Through an appreciation of the stories, we have access to what is most essential to humanity. To understand the meaning of someone's idea of "family," for instance, is to go into someone's story of "family." "Family" has its very existence in the symbols and values embedded in someone's story of it, manifested in their daily behaviors, their oral histories, their unique rituals and traditions, and their conversations about themselves. Likewise, the significance of the statement, "The Eagle chose not to be shot, not to give itself to us this day," is embedded in Marshall's story of it.
The question asked then is how do we go about interpreting the meaning and significance of someone's story? A major concern in attempting to do such is in formulating and applying a methodology that does not compromise and distort the integrity of that which we seek to understand. All too often the language we use to describe that which is other than our own only clothes the other in the familiar - in bias and possible ethnocentrism.
To help us steer clear of this pit fall I will offer the following methodology for interpreting cultural stories. It is a methodology which relies on a thorough understanding of the nature of "cultural values" and "symbols." The fabric of any "cultural story" is composed of "symbols" and is expressive of "cultural values." To barrow a metaphor. Stories can be equated with the landscape we view - the lakes, mountains, prairies, deserts. Symbols then represent the material components of that landscape - the rock, plant, animal, water - the elements which make up the land forms. In turn, the cultural values are primary among the underlying geological processes helping mold those land forms. Embedded within any given story is thus the single most important influence on the behaviors we exhibit and the worlds we create - our cultural values, expressed through discrete and richly varied forms - our symbols.
We had just come out of the downpour as we sped south on the Interstate Highway. Except for the sun's radiance from the west, the sky remained dark blue. Then we saw it, bright and clear, not more than a quarter mile to the east. With all its vivid colors, the rainbow emerged from the ground, arced, and then re-entered. It was a perfect rainbow.
But the perfect rainbow had something special to offer that afternoon. As we continued south, the rainbow seemed to move with us. We passed a wooded area, then a deep coulee, now a ranch house. At each site the rainbow touched down and moved across. We slowed the car to sneak a picture with the camera. The arc of color slowed as well. We sped up. It sped up. A hill rose a few hundred feet from the car, and the rainbow touched down so close that we could almost run our fingers through its vibrant colors.
We soon realized that this was our very own rainbow. Could others possibly have seen what we saw? Some cars passed us by, but our rainbow did not seem to move on with them as they sped by. And then there were those driving north on the same highway. Our rainbow certainly didn't move north with them, but stayed with us! Maybe others who traveled that road that day saw a rainbow, even at the very same moment we saw ours, though we didn't see theirs. Surely theirs was not ours. It was a "gift" to us alone. Eventually the Rainbow went its way and the word, ah'o, was spoken aloud.
(The account of "The Rainbow" was based upon a participant-observation made on the Crow Indian Reservation in 1991.)
Symbols
Symbols are the elemental components that make up a cultural story, the rocks and trees, the water and animals of a landscape. Symbols are also the means through which cultural values find their expression, the key contours and ridges, forests and prairies defining the character of a landscape and manifesting its underlying geological processes. A symbol can be defined as a specific unit of reference that refers to a particular referent. The unit of reference can be an object, a behavior, or a sign. The referent can consist of a concept, phenomenon, or process. Simply put, a symbol is something that stands for something else. In the preceding story, "The Rainbow," the written word or spoken morpheme, "rainbow," is itself the unit of reference that refers to an arc of vivid colors, a phenomenon viewed, the referent. To enhance your understanding of symbols and your interpretative skills, five critical dimensions of the symbol need to be briefly discussed.
First, symbols presuppose displacement. The unit of reference refers to something that is separate from the temporal and spatial immediacy of the person who is symbolizing. The written word "rainbow" can refer to something separate from the direct experience of seeing a rainbow. While you may have an image of that something in your mind, that image is not dependent on you directly experiencing it as you refer to it. The implications are far reaching. As a consequence of displacement, the human is forever free from the constraints of what is experienced and defined in the immediate and can contemplate distant places and times to create an endless inventory of images and meanings.
Second, symbols entail meaning. Attached to any given symbol is a significance. The meaning associated with "rainbow" might be the anticipation of good fortune or the possibility of finding "a pot of gold," or simply the understanding of the colors of the spectrum formed by the refraction of the sun's rays on raindrops. While displacement allows the human to expand beyond the immediate, the meaning attached to symbols gives a significance to that expanded world. Hypothetically, while you may never have experienced a rainbow for yourself, you can gain an understanding of its meaning simply as the result of reading someone else's story of the rainbow. The meaningful world is thus limited only by what the human can imagine.
Third, symbols can be transmitted in time and through space, i.e., they can be learned and shared. And again, hypothetically, you may never have experienced a rainbow, but you have now learned something about it. The experience of the rainbow may have occurred long ago, but you can know it in the present. The individual human is not limited to the sum total of his or her direct and idiosyncratic experiences, but is potentially able to be inclusive of the collective experiences of an entire human society and history. With your interpretative skills, you can gain access to much of the meaning of world views quite distinct from our own, all because symbols can be shared and learned.
Fourth, the meaning attached to the symbol is autonomous of and not bound by the unit of reference, i.e., any given symbol can refer to anything. The meaning of a symbol is arbitrary. The written word "rainbow" can refer to the anticipation of good luck or it can refer to evil and the devil or, for some, the word may have absolutely no meaning at all. There is nothing innate within the unit of reference that would necessitate and bind the word "rainbow" to a certain meaning. It is this quality of arbitrariness that distinguishes a symbol from a sign. The meaning associated with a sign is tightly bound to its unit of reference. For instance, to cup one's hands and draw them to one's mouth is a unit of reference indicative of drinking or thirst. But, as a symbol, the word "cup" can refer to a container or possibly to the act of drinking or to a virtually endless assortment of meanings.
As a function of this arbitrariness, any given symbol can have an assortment of differing meanings and that assortment can occur simultaneously. Further, the processes of creativity and imagination are made possible. New, never before conceived of meanings can be brought forth. With the spontaneity of creativity and imagination, language is rendered "open-ended."
But also because of this arbitrariness, the interpretation of stories is made that much more difficult. The meanings of symbols, especially symbols originating out of world views different from our own, are never overt nor explicit, and are always open to misinterpretation.
Fifth, symbols define the parameters of and assign the meaning to the phenomenal world of objects and of images, i.e., that which symbols refer to is brought forth and created. The meaning of an object or image does not rest in that object or image alone, but is the result of a complex interaction involving the object or image, human sensory perception, and human mental conception. Conceptualization, in turn, is influenced by the particular cultural and historical paradigms of the specific human who is conceptualizing.
What is it that constitutes the phenomenon, "rainbow"? Certainly the mist of the rain and the light of the sun are critical elements. But a certain interaction is also necessary. The light must refract off the mist. And do we not also need a human perceiving of that particular interaction of light and mist? Would a "rainbow" exist without a human physically seeing it, and seeing it in only a particular relationship and angle to the light and mist? And do we not also need a human conceiving of that particular interaction? Would a "rainbow" have existence without a concept of it, without a symbol rendering it a meaningful phenomenon, assigning a particular significance to it? The "rainbow" was recognized, "as we sped south on the Interstate Highway," and assigned a particular significance, "our very own rainbow," "a gift to us alone" and "we gave thanks to the Rainbow," rendering that phenomenon meaningful.
This is not to suggest that there is nothing unless it is symbolized. While lacking a particular symbol for "wall," the physicality of a wall still has an abrupt existence when encountered face-to-face. In reverse fashion, while clouded in considerable mystery, a spiritual archetype, for example, is not denied volition simply because it lacks a particular icon. It is as yet simply not revealed. And most assuredly the light and the mist associated with a rainbow, and the experiencing of them has an existence, they are something. But that "something" is fundamentally meaningless. If there is not a particular symbol of that phenomenon, for example, "rainbow," can that phenomenon have meaning? Thus typically and most importantly, that which is not symbolized is not readily recognized and is not given meaning by the human.
While symbols define and, in a sense, limit how we relate to the world by establishing parameters of meaning, symbols also remove cognitive barriers and expand the realm of possible human experience. If a new symbol is brought forth, is not a new meaningful phenomenon also brought forth? Because of their arbitrary, autonomous character, symbols can create new and varied ways of rendering meaning and experiencing the world. Symbols ultimately liberate the human from the temporal and spatial constraints imposed by the immediacy of existence, and allow humans to live in an expanded world of their own fabrication and imagination.
Let me offer as an illustration the symbol "wilderness." What you consider as "wilderness" has a specific range of meanings, which defines how you relate to that which you signify by this symbol. For example, "wilderness" may be understood as a pristine, natural area, "untrammeled" by humanity. Therefore, it may be difficult for you to imagine other ways of relating to that which you signify as "wilderness" phenomenon. But that difficulty does not preclude the possibility that others can not assign altogether different meanings to the symbol, "wilderness." For example, "wilderness" can be understood as a "land of no use," a vast natural resource, to be used to satisfy human economic needs. And of course the difficulty in imagining other ways of relating to this phenomenon also does not preclude the possibility of altogether new meanings being created and assigned to the symbol. For example, "wilderness" might be thought of as the chaos found in the inner city. As with any symbol, "wilderness" has a multiplicity of possible meanings, any and all of which you have an ability to learn from another person or to create anew for yourself. These newly established meanings are thus incorporated into your understanding and usage of the symbol "wilderness." Subsequently, you would probably relate and act in new ways to that which you refer to as "wilderness." For example, now the possibility exists, however unlikely, that instead of going into an Alpine meadow or an "old-growth forest," you would venture into an "inner city" to receive a "wilderness experience!" That which is "wilderness" takes on new meanings and is related to in new ways. Any symbol can therefore at once limit yet expand how you relate to the world.
From the most minuscule of behaviors to the expanses of an entire civilization itself, as we are clothed in our cultural stories, necessarily all of our thought, activity, and expression is invariably symbolic. A glance of the eye or the spatial proximity with another person, the particular clothing worn, the numbers of a mathematician, the images of an artist, the design of a building, the spoken word, the written word, the stories of entire societies, all are clusterings of symbols, the elemental components of a cultural story. Given all its complexity and uniqueness, all the many ways it has been defined, the human species is ultimately to be classified as Homo symbolicus.
Our goal throughout is to discover and then interpret the meaning of the cultural values embedded within any given story text that we seek to understand. What then is a cultural value? To reiterate our landscape metaphor, if symbols are the overt physical features within a landscape, cultural values are the underlying geological processes forming and manifesting the terrain of a landscape. While formal definitions abound, I will define cultural values as learned, relatively enduring, emotionally charged, moral conceptualizations that assist us in making judgements and in preparing us to act. In other words, the priorities we set and the choices we make are significantly based upon the values we hold. My usage of the concept is inclusive of the personal values of an individual, as well as the collective values of a community.
First, all values are learned values. Not unlike the acquisition of a particular language, values are transmitted and inculcated through an intricate web of societal agents and interactions. Primary to this web are family members and social peers, formal schooling, leisure, work and religious activities, and such rites of passage as baptism, confirmation and marriage. And interwoven throughout this web is the oral and/or written word, the stories of a people. The influence of this web is particularly important during childhood when the basic value parameters are established. In turn, these parameters help orient the subsequent acquisition and the reaffirmation of values throughout a person's life-span.
Because values are learned, they can be forgotten, and they can be learned anew, though usually only with great effort. But values can be changed. Humanity is neither innately predisposed to certain values. Nor is the content of values genetically determined. My concern here is not to suggest how an individual forms his or her particular values. Furthermore, these comments are not meant to preclude the insights of such theorists as Noam Chomsky, Erik Erikson, or Jean Piaget. The possibility that humans have certain biologically-based maturation levels and predispositions influencing the acquisition of language and personality must be considered in any discussion of the acquisition of values. Suffice it to say, the formation of an individual's value configuration is an extremely complex process.
Second, values are relatively enduring. Values are grounded in the cultural heritage of a society and pervasively housed within the institutions of the society, the web. And values are well established from childhood. An individual may decide to forego a particular value, only to be confronted by it at each juncture within the web of society and to be grounded by its parameters formed early in life. The values of a society or of an individual are not easily altered.
Third, values are not necessarily consciously known by either the individual or the society. Not unlike our everyday linguistic grammar, values are seldom overtly articulated, even though we depend upon both in comprehending another's action and in generating our own. Your search for your own values and the values of others is accomplished only with great effort.
Fourth, values tend toward consistency, i.e., like values attract like values. The assemblage of an individual's or of a community's values strives for affiliation, compatibility and integration. If a particular value is not consistent with the assemblage of values already held, it is not easily integrated and is often ignored and excluded.
This is not to suggest that we will always find consistency among the values held by any given individual or expressed in a given community. Values strive for consistency. The particular assemblage of values of an individual or community is typically inclusive of disparate and often mutually contradictory values. It may even be the case that a particular configuration of values not only accommodates but espouses seemingly contradictory values. At issue is not the inconsistent disposition of the individual values in question, but the overall structure of the relationships and the character of that integration among all those values. To understand any given value, one must also consider the larger gestalt in which it is embedded.
Fifth, values enshrine and impart a society's concepts of the morally desirable. Values set forth the social criteria for and the cultural assumptions upon which good and bad, right and wrong, moral and immoral, noble and vile are established. Values provide a code and form the basis for all moral judgments, whether directed at others, nature or the self. Values guide human conduct, providing a "road map" for action. Of course, what one may value as proper, another may value as immoral and improper. As a consequence, values are often at the focal point of conflict.
Sixth, values are inundated with emotional feelings and are held with strong conviction. There can be no passively neutral values. Fear, sympathy, hate, love, anger, passion, contempt - all are expressions of this subjective dimension of values. Values are most assuredly felt.
Because of this affective component, values are thus more than a code of conduct. By infusing judgements with passion, values establish the desirable. Good and bad are not simply laid out. "Good" is passionately desired and "bad" is ardently avoided. Values are the great motivators within a society and the individual, the drive directed toward all sorts of ends. From how a "rich man" is defined to what is most "feared" in life, all are grounded in values. But it is also this passion that certainly can inhibit an appreciation of values different from one's own. Emotions can cloud a clear vision.
Seventh, values establish a disposition to act. Values influence our behaviors by preparing us to act in certain morally-oriented ways. When a certain behavioral response is called for in a given context of social interaction, what that behavior may be is based in part upon the values held. I suggest "in part" because values, while primary among those influences, are not the sole influence on our behaviors. Other influences include the level of individual self-esteem, social role definitions, societal laws, spontaneous collective behavior and the persuasiveness of others, for instance. Consequently, identified values alone are not necessarily accurate predictors of behavior. While they closely parallel one another, the values we hold and the behaviors we exhibit are not the reverse sides of the same coin, each synonymous with the other.
The ingrained values expressed throughout our stories form much of the basis for who and what we are. They help us to interpret and comprehend the behaviors of others, as well as to guide our own behaviors through the mazeway of human existence.
As we had mentioned previously, if our behavior is not necessarily a direct corollary of our cultural values, then you can not automatically observe values in someone's behavior and actions. And if values are not necessarily consciously articulated, then you can not simply ask someone what his or her values are and expect him or her to offer a concise treatise on them. Then how do you come to understand another person's story and his or her values? Let me offer the following suggestions.
Throughout the entire interpretative process, apply our definitions of "symbol" and "value." Attempt to isolate the key symbols within the text of the story. They will help point the way to the underlying values of the text. Ask yourself what meanings and images are being referred to in each individual symbol. Within any given text, you may find a variety of seemingly disparate units of reference that, in fact, refer to a singular, affiliated meaning or image. Often a related image will be reiterated throughout a text in a variety of ways in order to convey a specific meaning. Look for the patterns and repetitions.
To successfully interpret a story text of any kind, one must have an appreciation of the historical and cultural context around which it is framed. Meaning is always context bound. The context refers to when and where the story is being presented, e.g., to whom, when, where, in what social situation and for what cultural purpose is the story directed? A comprehension of the context requires development of an understanding of the entire cultural configuration in which the story is embedded. Ask yourself how the referent meaning of a specific passage relates to the other images and meanings of the entire text. Attempt to see the gestalt of the text, not just the individual units of reference. What may be the larger implications of what is being referred to in the text? Ask yourself in what social context is the text usually presented. When and where is it likely to be found? To whom is it usually directed? Attempt to ground the text in its cultural and historical context. Try gaining a sense of the "big picture." It's easier to identify the trees if you know which forest you're in.
The goal in interpreting the cultural stories and values of another is to see from the perspective of the other, and to avoid the indiscriminate imposition of your own perspective on that of the other, to avoid being biased and ethnocentric. This is a challenge accomplished only with great diligence.
To properly interpret another's values you need to be aware of your own; otherwise their values simply become extensions of your values as you inadvertently cloud your interpretation with your own values. When life in the Mexican village of Tepoztlan was first described by the American anthropologist Robert Redfield (1930), it was a "folk life" characterized as cooperative and integrated, made up of content, well-adjusted people. When Oscar Lewis (1951) restudied the same village, tension, schism, pervading fear, envy and distrust characterized Tepoztlan. Had some twenty years brought so much change? Or had Redfield and Lewis, however unwittingly, each brought something of their respective cultural milieu into their studies? For Redfield, had it been the optimism of an age of prosperity in which "the War to end all wars" had just been fought and a League of Nations established? For Lewis, was it the tension and fear of an age of Cold War, "the Bomb" and global conflict?
This is not to suggest that you must somehow "empty" yourself and view from a "void" so as not to bias your interpretation. One can not see well without eyes accustomed to viewing. What is suggested is that you acknowledge and distinguish what is indeed your story from the story of the other. Your story should not become their story.
It may even be the case that the acknowledged qualities and perspectives of your own story may help assist you in revealing the meaning of another's story. Your own eyes (as well as the eyes of another) can offer insights. To have appreciated your own walk in the forest is to better appreciate the meaning of someone else's walk in a forest. To have appreciated your own story of divinity is to better appreciate the meaning of divinity in someone else's story. But of course, access to the meaning of another's story of a forest walk or of divinity is not contingent upon your possessing a comparable story. There would be very little interpreting and understanding of another's story if such were the case.
In 1930, the British anthropologist E. E. Evans-Pritchard initiated what would become the definitive study of the Nuer, an east African Nilotic people. The first in a series of works, The Nuer: A description of the modes of livelihood and political institutions of a Nilotic people (1940), quickly became a classic in the field. With the outbreak of World War II, Evans-Pritchard was forced to relinquish his research and return to England. While there, he became a Catholic. With the war concluded, Evans-Pritchard resumed his studies among the Nuer, and in 1956 published Nuer Religion. While describing the same people, albeit differing domains within the same culture, in comparing The Nuer with Nuer Religion it is as if two different writers were at work. In The Nuer, it was a humanity defined in terms of the praxis and functional qualities of its social existence. While in Nuer Religion, it was the symbolic and ideational qualities that defined this humanity. Was it his own newly acquired religious sensitivities that allowed Evans-Pritchard to gain access to and then to better appreciate Nuer spiritual sensibilities? And in the instances of Redfield and Lewis, could not the times from which each viewed the world have actually helped reveal differing aspects of the same village life in Tepoztlan? While you do not want to bias your interpretative endeavors, you should not abandon your own stories and values. When you have acknowledged your own values, the view through the lenses of those values can help reveal the values of others.
Perhaps the most effective way to discover and acknowledge your own values is to juxtapose what is other and different along side what is immediate but often veiled. The contours of your own values will be made that much clearer. Read through the story text. Ask yourself how you feel about the various images presented and issues raised in the text. Is there a sense of familiarity or is there an uneasy distance? Most importantly, ask why is there a familiarity or uneasiness? Which of your own values is subsequently being exposed? In traveling the unfamiliar territory of the other, the climate will quickly let you know if you are dressed properly. Observe what you are wearing.
If you are to interpret properly, you must thus be accountable for the values you bring into the interpretative process. Attempt to minimize the unintentional clouding of your interpretations by the coloring of your own values. But also allow your own acknowledged values to assist in navigating the unknown territory of the other. And then try to clearly see that territory; try to see from the perspective of the other.
The goal of interpreting from the perspective of the other, however, is most assuredly an elusive goal. In the final analysis, you can never fully know the meaning of someone else's values. Your interpretations are always an approximation of, but not identical with, that which you are interpreting. The interpretation of values can never be empirical. This should not discourage you from being rigorous in your endeavors, however. Your interpretations have tremendous heuristic value. They assist in discovery and exploration. They assist in arriving at more appropriate ways of learning about and describing the human condition. They assist in increasing your overall understanding and appreciation of yourself and others. Interpretation humanizes your experiences with others. Interpretation is not a science; it is an art.
Interpretation is ultimately a process of creating symbolic meanings. As previously discussed, if something is not symbolized, it is not readily recognizable and has no meaning. If the interpreter does not have a symbol of the other, the other has no meaning. A new symbol is needed. As further discussed, if the meaning of the symbols of the other is elusive, you can not simply and automatically appropriate the symbols of the other. Simply presenting another's symbol does not mean you have presented the meaning of that symbol as understood by the other. A new symbol is needed. And if you impose your own symbols on the other, you only blind yourself from seeing the other. Your own symbols can not convey the meaning of the other. A new symbol is needed.
It follows then that you must necessarily create new symbols of the other. As with any act of creativity, discovery or revelation, interpretation is the result of a dialectic. It is as if you are in conversation with someone else. You must attempt to clearly understand what is being voiced by the other person. Listen carefully. But if there is to be a conversation, your own voice must also be part of and contribute to the dialogue. A conversation is the collaboration of both voices. In like fashion, meaning is to be rendered out of the dialogue between symbolizer, i.e., the interpreter, and phenomena to be symbolized, i.e., the other, though we would hope the voice of the other to be significantly louder. A synthesis, nevertheless, takes place. As you approach the story texts, listen to the voice of the other, it must predominate; but also acknowledge your own voice, and then let yourself imagine anew. Reflect on all these varied voices, symbols, images and meanings; re-arrange them in your head, and let them fall together in unforeseen ways.
And then apply your synthesis. Does it meet the criteria of heuristic validity, i.e., a more appropriate methodology of learning about the other, an increase in an overall understanding and appreciation of the other, and a humanizing of your relation with the other? If not, try again. Eye juggling involves the coordinated juggling of the eyes of the other and the self, and of eyes that have not yet seen, but that are about to.
Most important of all to the interpretative process is to re-engage the story text a second time; leave the text for another activity; return to the text. Dwell in the story text. Gain some perspective. When all is said and done, to interpret is to soil the pages of the text. Interpretation is accomplished only after a great labor. And most telling, to interpret is to allow the words of the stories to be lifted from the pages of the text and for you, the interpreter, to dance with them. Listen for the words of the storyteller within the story. Interpretation necessitates an intimacy with the images and characters within the story text.
An Interpretation: An Example
Let me offer the following, albeit brief, interpretation of the story text, "The Eagle." While I will apply the method just outlined, please keep in mind that this interpretation reflects my own engagement with the text. Your interpretation may differ.
Key symbols within the text could be interpreted as including: Marshall's statement, "The Eagle chose not to be shot, not to give itself to us this day!" and Marshall's action of raising his right hand from the steering wheel, palm to the sky and the flight of the bird, whispering, ah'o.
Based upon these two key symbols and my own understanding of the larger cultural contextual background, I would interpret the underlying cultural values as including: the Eagle and much of the Animal world has its own volition, a capacity to make choices and carry out their decisions. The world is animated with spiritual life and power. Humans should be respectful of the Eagle and Animal Peoples.
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