[Last modified: October, 31 2024 10:23 AM]
I positioned myself at UCL’s side gate on Gower Street during the practical exercise. As I observed and recorded notes in a small notebook, I noticed a tension: the act of writing seemed to make people slightly more aware of their actions.
I began without a particular focus but soon noticed some key patterns. Men in green bibs approached people, but I couldn’t determine their purpose. It was interesting to observe people’s reactions to being approached; most were in a hurry, likely between lessons. In central London, where people are often approached by marketers, there’s a common conditioning to ignore strangers with an economic or promotional agenda, prompting most to dismiss approachers reflexively.
The built environment—specifically, a university campus around 11:45 a.m.—was relevant to these interactions. Familiar with the student schedule, I knew people were likely in transit, with few lingering. The limited time likely influenced their responses.
Gendered dynamics in handling these encounters also stood out. I observed some people signalling their desire not to be approached from a distance—about seven meters—using hand gestures, often a trait more common among male passersby. Others chose a detour, quickening their pace to avoid the approaches as if treating them as obstacles. Both genders adopted this form of passive but noticeable rejection. Some did engage briefly, maintaining their pace but responding politely. Interestingly, there was one woman who seemed genuinely apologetic for not having time to stop, in contrast to other people who were unfazed by their rejections.
Material objects involved with such interactions also played a role. The green bibs worn by the approachers signalled their role in the space, marking them as workers distinct from pedestrians. I even noticed the shift change, where approachers, crossing the street, removed their bibs and, in one case, lit a cigarette, a clear indication of moving from work to leisure. Headphones, another frequent sight, served as cues to preoccupation; some removed an earbud to acknowledge an approacher, while others used their headphones as a barrier, signalling a lack of availability.
Throughout, I found myself immersed in my notebook, often glancing up only when I noticed sounds suggesting nearby interactions. The soundscape alone could convey the movement and pace of the space, yet all my observations were inherently subjective, filtered through my interpretations of passersby’s intentions.