ABSTRACT
I press the stop button on my Fostex recorder, bringing to an end the recording of my latest interview for the project I am currently working on, a twentieth century oral history of Gibraltar. I have the signed consent form with me, which assures the anonymity of the interviewee should it be requested, and I find myself about to complete the log sheet, essential for the future cataloguing and organising of our audio files, lest we lose track of any. Still, it would be difficult for me to forget this recording, and neither will the removing of traces of the person’s identity wipe away any of this information from my mind, for I have just interviewed my father. I have done so in the knowledge that much of what he has spoken about was already known to me. This, I felt, was an advantage as I could, wearing my academic hat, revisit certain key events in Gibraltar such as his experiences in London during the Blitz or the closure of the border with Spain in 1969, both key historical events, and target my questions accordingly. At the same time, I contemplate whether I have subsequently brought my research far too close to my home (both Gibraltar and into my parent’s home), and feel that I may be precariously walking the line that exists between
critical objectivity and subjectivity. Could the same be said for my colleague Andrew, who, although originally from Gibraltar, has lived most of his life away from the Rock? I wonder the extent to which distance, institutional and emotional, play a part in his engagement with the subject of our research project. For my part, my familial relationships and my connections to Gibraltar are important determinants in understanding and analysing the oral histories that will be collected during the lifetime of this project. As such, as a Gibraltarian and British citizen from one of the 14 remaining British Overseas Territories, and as an academic working within a postcolonial theoretical framework, my position becomes somewhat interesting as I contemplate the possibility that I may well be as much the subject of my research as my father is. In researching and writing about the history of Gibraltar, am I not also writing about myself and my family?
