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Although I write that debutantes and quinceañeras are ventanas into the lives and identities of the individuals, families, and communities who celebrate them, peering into these windows would never have been enough to help me earnestly investigate and attempt to understand the events and people that are the subject of this book. In fact, engaging in this study forced me to abandon the idea that I should or could play the role of a detached, value-neutral observer, since doing so often raised the suspicions of early potential subjects and thus prohibited me from finding people outside my circle who would allow me to interview and/or observe them. As a result, I eventually adapted a more engaged approach that follows and has been informed by forty years of “decolonial social science,” a method most commonly employed by women and scholars of color (see, e.g., Davalos 1998; Keohane, Rosaldo, and Gelpi 1982; Leong 1995; Rosaldo 1989; Russel y Rodríguez 2001; L. Smith 1999). I considered a “decolonized methodology” (L. Smith 1999) to be most useful for this project because most of the immigrant families I studied were unfamiliar with sociology, research interviews, and doctoral students. Before they agreed to participate in the study, many of them could not imagine that their lives might be of interest to anyone other than members of their own families and communities and, perhaps, state officials and agents. So when I first used my institution-approved spiel to find outside research participants—by distributing church and community announcements and approaching strangers in dress and accessory shops and at community events—my advances were either brushed off or ignored entirely. One day, after weeks of rejection in the field and a long afternoon of getting lost in a medium-sized shopping district popular among Las Querubes quinceañeras and their families, I entered a store and approached the Latina salesperson behind the counter. Throwing my spiel and my Spanish-speaking inhibitions out the window, I introduced myself—in Spanish—and asked her if she would mind talking to me about her work to help me in my research for a “book about Mexican quinceañeras and Appendix Nandiyan Lang/Just over (T)Here: Ethnographic Reflections on Researching American Immigrant Families 180 Appendix Filipino debutantes.” It was a breakthrough: for the first time since I’d started trying to locate subjects in Las Querubes, someone was willing to talk to me! The woman spoke excitedly about her observations of quinceañera customers, referred me to several other possible sources (including her manager), and asked where I grew up, how I came to speak Spanish, and whether I was Catholic. As I wrote up my field notes, I realized that her openness may well have been, in good part, a response to my transition from a cold, systematic approach to a less formal style that included a willingness to share some of my own personal information. It even dawned on me that before that encounter, my demeanor may have caused some to mistake me for an Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS) agent posing as an interviewer to sweep out undocumented community members. From that time on, I was convinced that a far less impassive demeanor, a little selfdisclosure , and some thoughtful reflection about the effect of my identity and behavior on my research were necessary if I wanted to (1) find new subjects and (2) pursue the study of debutantes, quinceañeras, and those who participate in the celebration of both. My preparation before entering the field (literature reviews, pilot interviews, and multiple visits to Las Querubes) had helped me identify key sites where I might find local “authorities” on debuts and quinceañeras—such as churches, shopping districts, and community associations. I spent months cold-calling vendors, parish offices, and ethnic community organizations to request their help in the research for my book. After several successful interviews, I gained more than expert insights on debutantes and quinceañeras. I also earned my interviewees’ trust, their referrals, and their valuable endorsements, which greatly facilitated my ability to locate, and even be warmly received by, additional research participants. The result was a snowball effect: referrals from previous subjects led me to new subjects, who led me to still other subjects. Given the obstacles to obtaining a random sampling from the undefined universe of immigrant families who organize debutante and quinceañera celebrations, this proved an ideal way for me to generate my sample of immigrant and...

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