Applied Anthropology
and Participatory Action Research in an Urban Context
Anthropology is the study of human culture in
all known cultural and temporal contexts. Traditionally, anthropological
research is divided into four subfields aimed at engaging different
forms of evidence of culture. These subfields include cultural
anthropology (the study of the interrelated social elements
of human culture such as political organization, family organization,
subsistence strategies, economic systems, etc.), archaeology
(the study of material cultural remains and their association
with human behavior), linguistics (the study of language with
an emphasis on its relationship to culture), and physical anthropology
(the study of human variation as a byproduct of different environmental
contexts and the assessment of human biological change through
time). Contemporary anthropological practice has led to the
development of applied anthropology as a fifth component of
the discipline.
Applied anthropology stands as a form of anthropological
practice that might incorporate data from any of the four traditional
subfields aimed at engaging real world (as opposed to theoretical)
research problems. Applied anthropologists apply the theories
and methods of anthropology to real-world situations in contrast
to theoretical anthropologists who describe possible or theoretical
social conditions or problems. Applied anthropologists must
not only identify problems but also “apply” existing knowledge
to make recommendations based on research findings and sometimes
to take action. Anthropologists taking action move beyond making
recommendations and choose to become involved in the process
that dictates how recommendations affect the source or topic
of research. Further, taking action as an applied anthropologist
might lead to advocacy (as in the case of my research agenda
involving Meacham Elementary). This article will recount my
experiences as an applied anthropologist engaging a real world
research problem in our own state. All that stands between us
here in Orlando and my research context in downtown Tampa, Florida
(where I have been involved in research since 2003) is a mere
80 miles along the monster known in our local cultural context
as “I-4”.
My Tampa research was thrust into the “real
world” and I was motivated to take “action” as an applied anthropologist
when I was contacted by the descendants of a local school’s
namesake: Christina Meacham (the first African American female
principle in Hillsborough County). The Harris family (Mrs. Meacham’s
descendants) was familiar with my historical documentary ethnographic
research in the community and asked for my aid in the historical
preservation of Meacham Elementary.
The
history of this school and its association with an African American
community that has persisted in the same neighborhood in Tampa
since the 1860’s demonstrates its significance to the history
of African Americans in Tampa. Meacham Elementary was constructed
in 1926 as the first modern facility in Tampa with the purpose
of educating the city’s African American children. This school
is located at 1225 India Street in Tampa, Florida, and is a
two story brick building constructed in 1926. This school was
originally located outside the city limits in a segregated African
American enclave that was established in Tampa in the 1860’s
and the school served as an educational facility for Tampa’s
African American students during times of educational segregation
in Florida (from 1926 until 1971). As the city expanded to the
north and east during the later half of the nineteenth century,
this African American enclave (along with Meacham Elementary)
was incorporated into the city. Within the city limits of Tampa,
Meacham Elementary lies 1.5 miles northeast of the center of
downtown, and is two blocks west of Nebraska Avenue (a primary
north-south thruway connecting downtown Tampa with its northern
suburbs). From 1926 until 1971 (the year desegregation was formalized
in Florida) the school stood as a segregated black school in
the heart of a formally segregated neighborhood, in the proximity
of Tampa’s former historical black business district. Although
its construction did not bring about equity in the matters of
teachers’ salaries and the availability of new books and other
educational needs, the construction of the new elementary school
did symbolize significant improvement to the infrastructure
of African American education in Tampa.
Meacham Elementary represents the struggle by
African Americans in Tampa to achieve social, political, and
educational equality during the segregation era from 1926-1971
when school integration in Florida was formalized. In 1971,
Meacham became an integrated sixth grade center as a part of
Florida’s desegregation plan. During the late 1970s, the school
was transformed into an early childhood center serving pre-kindergarten
and kindergarten students. Meacham has won three EDDIE Awards
(Education Software Review Awards) and is one of the largest centers accredited by the National
Association for the Education of Young Children (NAEYC) (Bair,
2000). This school is particularly significant as a symbol of
African American history in Tampa because virtually all of the
schools and other facilities that catered to Tampa’s historically
segregated downtown black enclave were destroyed under the auspices
of Urban Renewal policy in the 1970’s. For example, nearly the
entire historic black downtown business district along with
hundreds of homes in the surrounding historic neighborhood (just
east and north of the business district) were destroyed in the
early to mid 1970’s. This policy left this African American
community without many of the spaces that formerly symbolized
and served as social spaces for their community, and the fact
that they are no longer elements of the landscape underscores
the historical significance of Meacham Elementary as a symbol
of American heritage in Tampa.
I made the decision to align myself with the
Meacham family and the community and take action as an applied
anthropologist. When I agreed to advocate for the preservation
of this school (and take the side of the family and the community)
I moved beyond the realm of pure descriptive research and became
an applied anthropological advocate taking action (i.e. an advocate
pursuing action-oriented research). The problem faced by this
family as well as the community surrounding the school was the
potential loss of the school due to redevelopment of the entire
neighborhood that encompasses the school (comprised of around
300 connected public housing units). The context of my research
has defined my role as an applied anthropological action-oriented
researcher engaging various political entities in concert with
participating stakeholders while conducting ethnographic research
and providing specialized technical historical preservation
knowledge. Rather than documenting the effects of redevelopment
in this neighborhood and reflecting on the process and its effects
on culture and the symbolic representation of culture across
this urban landscape, I chose to take action as an anthropologist
and apply my research efforts explicitly toward the preservation
of Meacham Elementary.
Action-oriented research serves as a general
approach to social science research that has been applied to
a host of topics by scholars from a variety of disciplines.
Common elements of this approach include the prioritization
of engaging research questions or problems that address site
specific (contextual) issues resulting in data that has the
potential to affect the justification for the research (i.e.
the problem). Further, this approach prioritizes collaboration
with those potentially impacted by research.
Contemporary accounts of action-oriented research
in anthropological literature are often concerned with the application
of ethnographic data to an agenda aimed at solving a problem.
Therefore one might infer that anthropological research undertaken
as action-oriented research is aligned with advocacy. LeCompte
and Shensul (1999) assert that as anthropologists “…ethnographers
are not only interpreters of words and deeds but participants
or stakeholders in the uses of the research for problem solving.
Stakeholders are people who have a vested interest in ensuring
that the results of research are used to solve the problem the
research is addressing” (1999). According to LeCompte and Shensul
(1999) these stakeholders (which might include anthropologists
as well as collaborating community members) collect and interpret
data used to define the context of a given problem and to apply
that data in order to maximize benefits to affected communities.
They explain that one general approach to the application of
anthropological data to the resolution or engagement of real
world problems has been discussed in contemporary anthropological
literature as both action research (discussed above) and participatory
action research (LeCompte & Shensul, 1999). My research efforts
surrounding the preservation of Meacham Elementary in Tampa
serve as an example of action-oriented anthropological research
applied by an anthropologist as what LeCompte and Shensul (1999)
identify as participatory action research.
Participatory action research (PAR) is a form
of action-oriented research that has been described as “… one
means of addressing the gap between researchers and the intended
beneficiaries of research” (Turnbull & Friesen, 1998). Turnbull
et al. also assert that PAR “refers to a process whereby the
researchers and stakeholders (those who potentially benefit
from research results) collaborate in the design and conduct
all phases of the research process. PAR’s ultimate goal is taking
action to solve the problem that is the basis of the research”
(Turnbull & Friesen, 1998). Chambers explains how “The PAR model
is based on a partnership between practitioner and applied research
orientations” (1992). Likewise, consistent with the basic tenants
of action-oriented research, Whyte (1991) “… stresses the importance
of relating participatory practice to the socioeconomic and
cultural context in which interactions occur” (Chambers, 1992).
Therefore PAR is a manifestation of action-oriented research
that serves to directly align researchers with stakeholders
as “participants” in the research process with the common goal
of solving a problem or engaging a specific issue.
In the context of my research, I filled various
research roles explicitly aimed toward action. With the preservation
of Meacham Elementary as a common goal for myself and actively
involved stakeholders, I collected archival research documenting
the history of the community surrounding the school, gathered
ethnographic data vis-a-vis key informant interviews, and
served as a facilitator of technical preservation
information and an advocate. My role as an applied
anthropologist in this context facilitated the employment of
PAR when the family of the namesake of Meacham Elementary
contacted me and offered a research partnership aimed at the
preservation of the school. Eight family members offered
their assistance to the preservation project, and the family
and I have worked together in various capacities since we
joined forces in November of 2004. On more than one
occasion, at meetings engaging various governmental entities
involved with historic preservation at the local, state, and
federal level, members of the family and I have served complementary
roles.
After conducting initial archival and ethnographic
research focused on the school and the surrounding community,
I accepted that the community’s recognition of this building
as significant to its own history (as indicated by several key
informant interviews) was not enough to prevent the building
from being demolished (as a byproduct of the redevelopment in
the area). I recognized a need for broader and more substantive
support for this building and therefore chose to investigate
historic preservation strategies applied by historic architects,
developers and planners, and consulting and engineering firms.
As I negotiated the technical aspects of historical preservation
work such as historical architecture evaluation of Meacham Elementary
along with the accompanying technical expertise required to
complete state and federal forms and to interact with city,
county, and state officials concerning the preservation process,
I became a facilitator and interpreter of technical information
that has led to the school being placed on the National Register
of Historic Places in April of 2005.
The timeline demonstrating this process was
initiated when my historic preservation efforts related to Meacham
Elementary began in August of 2003. I initiated research on
Meacham Elementary as a component of background research
that I undertook
as a doctoral graduate assistant for the 2003 University of
South Florida archaeological field school (under the direction
of Dr. Brent Weisman, USF). This historic elementary school
is located three blocks east of Perry Harvey Park (one of three
project areas/excavation sites for the aforementioned archaeological
field school). At this point, I had not been contacted by the
Harris family and did not have any idea that researching the
school would open a Pandora’s Box, nor that I would jump into
the box and not climb out more than two years later.
After searching Sanborn maps as well as county
and school board records for documentation of the school, I
found that the school was much older (around 50 years older)
than the public housing units that make up the surrounding neighborhood.
Subsequently, after learning that the school was constructed
in 1926 to cater to the then segregated African American enclave
adjacent to the “Tampa Black Business District” (the focus of
excavation at Perry Harvey Park) it was recognized that the
school was a component of the cultural and archaeological context
of the excavation undertaken in June, 2003. It would have been
an oversight not to have documented the antiquity of this structure
as it represents infrastructure associated with the extant African
American community in the immediate vicinity of the archaeology
project. When I look back, it all seemed so simple: I thought
I would just make sure the state knew the school was there and
then be done with that portion of my research (and of course
this documentary research would conclude at the end of the field
school; at least that’s what I thought).
After contacting the Florida Division of Historical
Resources to make sure that they were aware of the school, I
was shocked to learn that they had no previous knowledge of
this significant structure. I had assumed that the school was
documented because I am aware of at least one very recent Cultural
Resource Assessment survey that was conducted in the neighborhood.
Evidently this survey failed to include Meacham Elementary in
its documentation of the area. Therefore, I felt obligated to
do so (one might consider this “action” to represent my initial
step toward Participatory Action Research). Since my initial
background research assignment was to document the built environment
of the neighborhood and this school represents a significant
cultural resource that could not be overlooked, I decided to
at least make sure that the State of Florida Division of Historic
Resources knew where it stood and was aware of its relationship
to the surrounding community. This endeavor entailed the filing
of a Florida Master Site File state historic structure form.
I began this form in August and it was accepted by the state
(following two revisions) in October of 2003. These forms are
typically available online from state Division of Historical
Resources websites and are relatively easy to fill out. The
state historic structure form provides basic information about
a structure and is a low impact method of informing the state
of the antiquity of a given building and clarifies that it is
old enough to qualify for “historic” status according to state
criteria. However, it should be noted that filing this form
with the state typically only goes so far as to ensure “review”
of potential affects on the property (this review might justify
demolition or preservation). On the positive side, this recognition
may set precedent for future preservation oriented designations
aimed at protecting cultural resources. For example, if a city
or county has historic preservation legislation as the City
of Tampa does to protect cultural resources, local landmark
status might be pursued as a means of protecting cultural resources
from future harm. When available, this process should provide
more concrete protection for cultural resources than being recognized
by the state. At a minimum, this step includes filling out a
local designation form detailing a property and justifying its
significance to a city or county or both. The federal version
of this recognition of historic significance is facilitated
by filing a National Register of Historic Places Nomination
form. The National Register of Historic Places is maintained
by the National Park Service (NPS) and represents a list of
cultural resources such as “… districts, sites, buildings, structures
and objects, each determined by the NPS to be of historic, cultural,
architectural, archaeological, or engineering significance at
the national, state, or local level” (King 2004:362). Acceptance
to the National Register symbolizes a designation that affords
much more protection than state recognition as well as opportunities
for tax breaks and grants for “significant” cultural resources.
In the case of Meacham Elementary, after filing
the state historic structure form, I learned that the school
was on the agenda to be considered for local landmark status
(a discovery that temporarily set my mind at ease). I was temporarily
under the illusion that this might once again be the end of
my research related to the school. As indicated by a public
notice at the entryway (an entryway that was approximately 25
feet behind a locked four foot high chain link fence) Meacham
Elementary was on the agenda for the October 28, 2003, Tampa
Historic Preservation Commission board meeting (the local preservation
entity). A large poster in the window adjacent to the front
door of Meacham Elementary explained that the school was to
be considered as a potential “City of Tampa Local Landmark”
at the meeting; however, the school vanished from the agenda
prior to the meeting and was therefore never officially considered
by the preservation board. When I called the Commission to inquire
as to why this was the case, I was given no details; that call
made me suspicious about the City’s plans and motivated me to
take further action (had I chosen to stop here, it would have
been relatively unproblematic for me to have stopped my involvement
in the on goings of the school). After revising the state form
for a second time, I received a confirmation of acceptance of
the form from the state and incentive that fueled my desire
to take action to advocate for this school. In response to the
structure form I submitted, the Division of Historic Resources
Bureau of Historic Preservation communicated the following to
me regarding the school:
If the major alterations to the school were
made in 1954—and I will take your word for it—then the building
is likely eligible for nomination to the National Register
as an example of an African-American education facility
from the segregation era … If you want to start the process
of nominating this property to the National Register, please
let me know” (letter received on October 9, 2003 from Carl
Shiver, Division of Historical Resources).
In October of 2003 (partially in response to
this letter and partly due to the fact that the school was suspiciously
denied the opportunity to be recognized by the local preservation
entity) I began working on the National Register of Historic
Places nomination form (the next step toward having this school
recognized as a significant cultural resource). This is called
a form; however, it is really more like a short book including
sections on historic and cultural context as well as architecture.
Completing this form requires some expertise in both Cultural
Resource Management and historic architecture, as well as a
great deal of patience. I started the Meacham Elementary National
Register of Historic Places form in October of 2003 and after
a few revisions it was accepted by the state of Florida Division
of Historic Resources in November of 2004. Subsequently, the
school was placed on the agenda for the quarterly meeting of
the Florida National Register Review Board in Tallahassee on
January 27, 2005 (this time I thought for sure that my involvement
with the school was over; but I had a question floating around
in my head that wouldn’t go away … “if I stopped here, who would
be in Tallahassee to advocate for the school at the meeting?”).
This question was answered when later in November
I was contacted by the descendants of Christina Meacham (the
namesake of the school). Following a phone conversation with
Arndrita Harris (the great granddaughter of Christina Meacham)
it was decided that the family and I (along with other interested
community members) would work together to do what we could to
ensure that the school was not overlooked by the City, the State,
or the Federal Government. This phone conversation initiated
participatory action research involving myself (as a provider
of technical information and an advocate), the Harris Family
(including three generations of relatives from the Tampa area)
and other interested community members (the most notable of
who is Mary Alice Dorsett; a prominent local African American
leader, advocate, and activist whose son attended the school
and who knew Christina Meacham). On January 27 2005, I rented
a bus and we traveled to Tallahassee for National Register Review
Board meeting (around a 5 hour drive north from Tampa). To our
surprise, we found that the school had been taken off the agenda
for the National Register Review board meeting two days prior
to our arrival (due to complications with the certified local
government process). After a few tense moments at the meeting,
we learned that the school was taken off the agenda because
both the local government entities involved with preservation
in Tampa had abstained comment regarding their opinion; before
the board can vote, either the Mayor’s office or the local preservation
commission is required to agree or disagree with the Florida
Division of Historical Resources recommendation that the school
be considered for listing on the National Register of Historic
Places. Thanks to the understanding of the board, Ardrita
Harris, Mary Alice Dorsett, and I were afforded the unofficial
opportunity to advocate for the school. After our presentation,
we found the board to be very receptive, and, consistent with
the initial assessment by the state, they unofficially indicated
that the school was a fine candidate for the National Register
of Historic Places. At this meeting we also learned that the
only way to get back on the agenda was to receive the support
of the Tampa Historic Preservation Commission (the entity that
removed the school from their agenda in October 2003). Therefore,
we regrouped and decided we would aim for getting on the agenda
for their next meeting in Tampa.
When we got back to Tampa we set our sights
on the March 8, 2005, Tampa Historic Preservation Commission
meeting. The political landscape of this participatory action
research changed at this point. Specifically, it became apparent
based on local media coverage that the neighborhood surrounding
Meacham Elementary was definitely being considered for demolition
and redevelopment by the City of Tampa (a process that would
involve the City of Tampa, Hillsborough County, the Tampa Housing
Authority and eager private developers). It became clear that
this redevelopment scheme that was in the works had likely been
the source of resistance at the local level. At this point I
decided to increase my resolve and to fight to prevent redevelopment
from stealing history and heritage from this community that
had so little left to symbolize the African American history
of Tampa (this would have been another relatively easy time
to disengage this research; however at this point I was in way
too deep, so I decided I was not giving in without providing
all the support I could muster for this cause).
Prior to the March 8, 2005, Tampa Historic Preservation
Commission meeting, members of the Harris family and I attended
several critical meetings aimed at bolstering political and
community support for the school. For example, on February 19,
2005, we attended and participated in a “community forum” meeting
at the Kid Mason Center (I gave a short speech in support of
the school), also we met with Hillsborough County school board
members, the Hillsborough County School’s chief facilities officer,
members of the Tampa City Council (including the chairman of
the City Council), local community members and leaders (including
residents, business owners, and Helen Taylor of the Kid Mason
Center). At the preservation commission meeting on March 8, Arndrita Harris and I presented our case for the school. Following
our initial comments, we met resistance from the Hillsborough
County Schools when their chief facilities officer revealed
that the county did not recognize the significance of the school
and was not in favor of any steps that might complicate its
destruction. It was readily apparent that Hillsborough County
failed to comprehend the significance of this school to the
history of African Americans in Tampa. Rather, it was clearly
indicated that they considered the school to symbolize an economic
asset that might be destroyed as a component of future development
(rather than preserved as a symbol of African American heritage).
Following the chief facilities officer’s comments, I had a successful
rebuttal. Then, after another series of questions, the Tampa
Historic Preservation Commission voted to support the school
as a potential candidate for the National Register of Historic
Places (they did not designate the school a local landmark,
they simply allowed the NR process to proceed by allowing the
school to be placed back on the Tallahassee Review Board agenda).
This Tampa Historic Preservation Commission meeting was attended
by around 20 supporters of the school including members of the
Meacham family, supportive community members, and a couple University
of South Florida anthropology graduate students (the successful
vote was followed with jubilant applause).
After gaining the local support needed to once
again pursue National Register status for the school, it was
placed on the April 2005 quarterly meeting of the National Register
Review Board in Tallahassee. Once again, we traveled to the meeting
and presented our case to the board (this time officially).
Following a series of questions related to the context and significance
of the school, it was voted on and accepted by the board for
listing on the National Register of Historic Places. The process
leading to the listing of Meacham Elementary to the National
Register was complicated and tedious; however, most of all it
has been rewarding. It has been my honor to work with the Harris
family and others to advocate for this significant structure.
Interestingly, the steps in the preservation process stymied
our efforts to protect the school while at the same time providing
avenues for our group to circumvent those who sought to devalue
this symbol of African American history in Tampa (we were able
to make legitimate change by negotiating a changing and challenging
political and preservation context).
This political and historic preservation process
represents participatory action research wherein interested
community members work together with a researcher (in this case
myself) to engage potential threats to cultural resources. This
is a method that urban applied anthropologists might apply as
a form of action-oriented research aimed at combating the destruction
of public symbolic representations of community history and
culture in the face of wide-ranging urban redevelopment. In
urban context, components of culture such as Meacham Elementary
should not be overlooked; just as those who prioritize culture
should be weary of overlooking material components of culture,
so, too, should city and county planners not fail to recognize
the significance of historic cultural resources that symbolize
heritage in urban space.
By May of 2005, according to the head of the
Tampa Preservation office (phone conversation May 4, 2005) the
Tampa Housing authority initiated a Request for Proposals (RFP)
from private investors interested in redeveloping the neighborhood
that surrounds Meacham Elementary. Thanks to our efforts, this
RFP mentioned Meacham Elementary and suggested that the private
developers treat the school as a National Register property,
which means they are much less likely to demolish the school
and much more likely to incorporate the building into their
redevelopment plans. Currently, the City of Tampa has accepted
a contract for the redevelopment of the urban landscape surrounding
Meacham Elementary with the initial plans calling for the treatment
of the school as a historic structure to be incorporated into
the “revitalized” neighborhood. As of September, 2005, what
remains to be seen is how this significant historic structure
will serve this rebuilt community and how its association with
Tampa’s African American history will manifest as a byproduct
of its use. My involvement with this project is significant
as a classroom resource because it affords me the opportunity
to provide a detailed account of a localized application of
anthropological research to my students. This research serves
to augment the educational experience of anthropology students
here at Valencia because it demonstrates how social science
researchers can make a difference by engaging real world problems
and that localized manifestations of such research exist right
here in Central Florida.
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