“To be continued…”: When breaking up a family history interview is wise

There are many times when it’s good to hit the proverbial pause button during a personal history interview—you can always pick up the topic during another session.

I was in a meeting with fellow personal historians recently when we got on the topic of helping our clients discuss challenging times during their personal history interviews. There was so much wisdom in that (Zoom) room and one thing I jotted down was a simple phrase: “To be continued…”.

In this case, we were talking about a son wanting to hear about specific—difficult—times in his mom’s life: These were things she didn’t talk about with her family, but that certainly contributed to her identity and outlook on life. It’s understandable that he would want to learn more about his mother’s experiences. But—and this is a big “but”—when my fellow personal historian brought up this topic during an interview session, the person answering questions only went so far before getting quiet. Was it too awful to probe? Was the subject paralyzed by bad memories associated with the experiences? Did she even want to “go there”?

As trained personal historians, my colleagues and I are accustomed to giving people space—space to formulate answers, to think, to spend time exploring memories and being heard; it is a sacred space. Often moments of quiet during an interview will lead to meaningful and surprising stories. But sometimes, well, they won’t—sometimes, those extended silences may go nowhere. And that is 100-percent okay.

And sometimes, those silences are productive in another way: A seed has been planted via the question, and that seed needs time to germinate. Hence, that phrase I took note of: “To be continued…”.

Saying those words out loud either at the end of an interview or after a pregnant pause in the midst of an interview gives the subject time and space. The words are a recognition of the fact that, yes, we can continue this topic another time. That, yes, it’s okay to give it some breathing room. And that, no, we don’t need to finish this conversation right now.

Remember, though, that it’s not only a probe of traumatic experiences that may necessitate those words, “to be continued.” You may want to turn the conversation towards something lighter and more fruitful during a personal history interview in other circumstances, too. Here are a few instances where hitting the proverbial pause button on your interview (or at least on a topic that ends in a prolonged silence) can be beneficial:

Decide to resume discussion of a topic in a subsequent family history interview when:

• the interview subject feels like exploring the current topic (whether involving trauma or otherwise) is too emotional, too difficult, or too uncomfortable

• the interview subject would like to consult with a family member to check details on a sensitive memory or story

• the interview subject is feeling tired

• the interview subject has expressed that they would like to think about how to approach the topic

• the topic being discussed could reveal things that negatively impact a loved one or other individual (in this case, be sure to reiterate that anything that comes up during the interview can be removed later, whether from an edited recording, a transcript, or a book).
  

One other thing worth noting: All of the above reasons for breaking up a personal history interview involve some form of challenge, but there’s another strong reason for resuming conversation again later—quite simply, because every time we tell a story, new aspects of our memories may come to the fore. So each new telling of a story may add texture, details, meaning. “No memory is ever alone,” Louis L’Amour wrote, “it’s at the end of a trail of memories, a dozen trails that each have their own associations.” So take one trail today, another tomorrow. Give your subject space. Let them know it’s more than okay for your conversation “to be continued…”.

3 lessons I re-learned during the pandemic

We are living through history as this pandemic continues to ebb and flow and wreak havoc on what we consider normal. Some of my long-held beliefs have been challenged, particularly around my personal history work.

I am a hugger.

I’ve been elated when at the close of a book project a client reaches in for a hug—usually, they pull back, considering the potential impropriety of hugging someone they are paying for a project, before realizing that I quickly leaned in to accept that hug, propriety be damned.

The kind of work I do with my clients is personal, often intimate. We develop a mutual trust and affinity during the interview process. A hug often seems like a natural development, especially at such a celebratory moment as finishing a book.

During this pandemic, though, hugs have been in short supply beyond my immediate family. I made an exception over the summer of 2020 to hug a friend who had lost her husband, and another when I was tackled by my young, adorable, equally hug-addicted niece when I was delivering Christmas presents to her home. Those exceptions fortified me, even if they were a calculated risk.

With more people getting vaccinated, we have perhaps restored our comfort level for hugs and mask-less gatherings, but news of variants and Covid continuing to spread in pockets of our country has me wondering if (when?) we may be going back to social distancing.

Two years ago, like at the beginning of this pandemic, I would have been worried for both my business and our collective well-being. Now, though, I know we can not only survive, but thrive—if we are careful, and if we tap into this wisdom:

1 - Human connection transcends technology.

Before Covid, I thought doing in-person interviews was essential. Since then I have realized that people want to connect in any form, and with everyone getting more comfortable with technology, remote interviews CAN indeed work.

I learned that as an interviewer, I simply need to be more intentional about setting the stage for trust—maybe a little more chitchat at the outset to establish my subject's comfort level before diving right into deep questions, for example. That's something that happens naturally during in-person interviews—when I enter someone's home, and during setup of my recorders and other equipment. On Zoom or FaceTime, though, that easing-in period may take a bit longer, an effort that's well worth it for promoting real, intimate exchange during the interview.

Any parent knows that there's a reason talking to your kid (especially your tween or teenager) in a car can be a smart approach: When no eye contact is needed, someone may feel more free to share difficult things—and feel less judged. This carries forth during phone interviews or even video chats, where even though we can see one another direct eye contact is almost impossible. It's amazing what we can feel comfortable enough to share with our interviewer, essentially a stranger, when not looking directly into each other's eyes.

2 - Sometimes it takes tragedy to make us realize what's really important.

We all think we want to get meaningful gifts for our loved ones’ birthdays, but somehow we default to the cool new thing we saw at the store (random), or the thing that's easy and quick to ship from Amazon (lazy), or maybe the gift card to the place we know they frequent (unoriginal). During the pandemic, people FELT what it was like to be kept from our loved ones; we began to take our relationships a little less for granted—and dug deep to come up with gifts that really expressed our love.

Before I had my business I always encouraged experiential gifts: Please, take my son to the zoo! Please, arrange an escape room outing for me and you together! And while I still think shared experiences make incredible gifts, I also root for legacy books of one kind or another—these combine an experience (yes, getting interviewed about your life is an AMAZING experience!) with a cherished heirloom. Our most popular offering during the past year and a half has been a celebratory tribute book for milestone birthdays—a book filled with heartfelt stories about the subject, a book that never fails to bring an exclamation of, “This is the best thing I've ever gotten!” I hope beyond measure that this trend toward expressive gift giving continues long after social distancing ends.

3 - No matter what, I will always want hugs.

Yep, I re-learned during this time that I will forever be a hugger. I also saw anew how some of my family members were glad to not have to hug their greetings—and I have been respecting their wish for distance ever since, waving from across the room or patting them on the back as a form of hello. It's all about paying attention, really—a great approach to life that helps us live in the moment, catalog memories for future writing or recollection, and better honor those in our lives. That's a pandemic lesson I am grateful for.

What have you learned during this strangest of times?