Methodology
MethodologyThis study has been approached through an intergenerational perspective to show the ways in which race, gender, and class intersect in traditional and non-traditional political spaces over time, as well as how political activism and social movements evolved and play an integral part in rethinking El Salvador’s history and the continued struggle for democracy. Moreover, the importance of Felix Panameño’s narrative is how it is remembered and the conditions in which the memory was created. This is important because although parts of the story have been told, neither the story nor the storytellers have been acknowledged for the information they have imparted. Lynn Stephen argues, “that to take testimony seriously is to acknowledge that it is a form of knowledge production and part of the epistemologies that engage a mixture of forms of archiving including oral, visual, and textual information.”[1] Oral history is a form of horizontal knowledge; therefore, this thesis is designed to capture the lived experiences of our elders whose stories often provide an alternative or counternarrative.
The idea is to rescue a heritage that reflects the country’s political and socioeconomic realities of its time. These personal interviews will be utilized in two ways. I will position Panameño’s narrative within the history of the Salvadoran workers’ movement and the Communist Party to better understand the role he played within these factions and the influence these revolutionaries have had on politics today. In addition, the collection of personal interviews will also serve as testimonials shedding light on their experiences affected by state-repression, and indirectly by workers’ struggle. Scholars write about how the telling of these histories is political. I agree. By bringing forward these stories, I seek to encourage further intergenerational dialogue to reveal the histories that have been undervalued.
Having heard about my great-grandfather’s controversial story years ago, my inquiry about him has expanded over the years and culminated to this study. I have had several informal talks about him with my grandmother Letty over the years; however, for this study I scheduled two interview sessions to finally record her words, both of which took place in 2015. My grandmother was born on January 24, 1931 one of San Salvador’s suburbs called Mejicanos. It is where Felix Panameño lived most of his life and eventually died. At the time of the formal session in my apartment on December 5, 2015, she was eighty-four years of age. My grandmother by nature is gregarious, and a pioneer for most of her family members that came to the U.S. after her. She finds humor in the most mundane things and she is the reason why our sessions were mostly filled with laughter and joy.
On the day of the first session my mother joined us to assist with Spanish translations of documents. I had never read to my grandmother the archival texts I had found of her father, especially the police report describing his interrogation in 1934. I hesitated reading the report to her because my mother, who also knew Papa Felix, teared up when reading the report. However, I started with his birth registration, then passages from Roque Dalton’s book and slowly moved into the report trying to avoid some of the more violent details. I noticed three distinct reactions from my grandmother throughout the session. First, she was almost apathetic towards the readings. Second, she showed much more emotion when talking about her mother and even her uncle, Luciano. And lastly, she often lowered her voice when talking about her father’s work and abuses against him. I repeatedly had to remind her she was in a safe place to talk.
Another area of apprehension for my grandmother was my wish to approach her estranged brother for an interview. She did not think he would respond well to my request, and kindly suggested not to pursue it in order to avoid being disheartened. However, my aunts thought otherwise and they reached out to him on my behalf. The risk paid off and Tío Chus expressed great joy in knowing I was interested in learning from him. The interview with Tío Chus was conducted on November 28, 2015 and a second interview on March 11, 2016. I had also been estranged from my uncle for over twenty plus years. At eighty-six years old, Tío Chus was full of white hair and as outspoken as ever. He welcomed me into his home where we were joined by one of my aunts and his second wife, a beloved member of our extended family. We hugged and greeted each other and in the middle of our joy, I saw two portraits hanging over their bedroom doorway. It was a picture of my great-grandmother Eve and my great-grandfather Felix. I kept the interview as structured as possible, focusing my questions on him but flexible enough for everyone to add to the interview at their own will. Tío Chus had fewer memories of his father to share with me, but more of his experience with Papa Felix’s other children. He had remained in contact with them both in the United States and El Salvador. His invaluable insights helped corroborate Abuelita Letty’s memories and help further fill the gaps about Papa Felix after the 1960s.
[1] Lynn Stephen, We are the face of Oaxaca: testimony and social movements (Duke University Press, 2013), p. 12.
This page has paths:
- Purpose of Study Claudia Portillo
