An Ethnographic Project by Alyssa Goldberg

The healer that I interviewed is a hero who just wants to help others. He is a firefighter at the Burlington City Fire Company. His uncle began taking him to the firehouse when he was just a kid. He started learning the equipment at a young age. So when he became 16 years old, he officially joined the firehouse as a 'Äòjunior,'Äô meaning he was able to start getting on the fire truck and helping at on scenes. The senior firefighters would begin to teach in preparation for fire school. At the age of 17, he enrolled in fire school and 6 months later he graduated as a firefighter. He explained that the majority of his family is in the fire service or members of the emergency squad. He credits his uncle for introducing the firehouse to him. To this day, he still manages to find the time to volunteer and hangout with his buddies who are also firefighters. They have become very, very...

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On the afternoon of Thanksgiving, I made the twenty minute drive to the home of my grandparents. Although the drive is short, the location of my grandparent'Äôs home feels as though it is worlds away from the congested town I now live in. As I got closer and closer to their residence, the sight of strip malls and housing developments were replaced by visions of corn fields and open land. As I pulled into their driveway, I immediately noticed the American flag that hung from the porch swaying gently from the brisk, fall wind. Despite it being autumn, not a single leaf appeared on their lawn. The lawn was cut so precisely that it appeared as if each blade of grass was equal in length. Unlike the serenity of the landscape surrounding me, my mind was rapidly assessing the upcoming interview I was to conduct.

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An Ethnographic Project by Michael Lamberti

My father, Joe Lamberti, was the first born son in America, and grew up with three siblings and two parents who were all born and raised in Italy. I know it sounds boring to interview your own father; seems like the easy way to complete an assignment, right? Well my father and I have never really spoke in depth about his childhood and how he became one of the hardest workers I know. I never inquired a lot about his past mostly because his mother, my Nonna, died when I was ten, and his father, my Nonno, was too elderly and did not speak English well enough to have these conversations. Most people would claim their father is a hard worker'Äîit even stirs up come confrontation among men of all ages who love to be competitive representatives of their fathers. I'Äôm not saying he'Äôs the hardest worker I know or...

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