Research that matters

It’s interesting to read a work about the importance of “continued” colonization because such a concept is often thought of to be a thing of the past. But the exploitation of other people groups is still incredibly pertinent today, and often it is masked under smaller nuances and micro aggressions that, on the surface, make this oppression seem less obvious than it actually is.

One such nuance that Jegathesan explores is the use of language – the terms that are used to identify and mark Tamil women and workers as “subhuman,” thus justifying discrimination and forced labor upon them. The author then delves into the anthropology behind this linguistic angle, looking at why and how words like “coolie” have turned into a derogatory label. This word then almost provides a justification for things like “gentle slavery” – an oxymoron that reveals the realities of colonized people groups. No matter how “gentle” something is, or how casual “coolie” may be thrown around, these terms carry dangers and are representative of the larger infrastructure of oppression and discrimination of Tamil workers. I believe this also applies to any derogatory terms used today – they are an encourager of racist roots and marginalizes minorities everywhere.

After reading Jegathesan’s linguistic angle can be applied into my own research. What are some terms that are used in Korean perceptions of beauty that can actually hurt people’s understanding of what it means to be beautiful? Words like “pale” and “light” are considered to be a compliment, and are often associated in Korean media with “pure.” I’m wondering then, the strength that words have in enhancing cultural discrimination?

So far, I really like how the author is informing the audience of one of the exploitative labor structures that exists in our society. I never thought to look at how all the different forms of forced labor exist and interact throughout time. I also think this book is a great way to show people how people are still affected by colonization even if their country has gained its independence.

In the introduction, when the author states how one of the girls was sent away in hopes of being able to earn a salary equivalent to $80 USD, I couldn’t help but wish the author had intervened and given the family money. I understand by doing it would cause a ton of conflicts but in general I wish some form of mutual aid became part of the process, especially in these communities who are often exploited at the benefit of those in western countries.

I enjoyed the author’s analysis of relevant artifacts and the historical context she provided. I also think this ethnography is really relevant for other displaced populations who are seeking to establish a homeland/sense of belonging.

This week’s readings from Tea and Solidarity: Tamil Women and Work in Postwar Sri Lanka illuminate the systemic, structural, and social inequalities these women face and how labor and gender expectations transform their daily experiences. From the start of her ethnography, Jegathesan employs a narrative approach to writing that draws our attention to her work and connects us directly to the people who worked with her. Not unlike the other ethnographies we have read, this writing style holistically shares mundane experiences fundamentally separated from us, uncovering the lives of Tumil Women through the obvious and subtle nuances of their lives. Jegathesan adds to her comprehensive exploration of imperial, residential, and industrial landscapes of Hill Country Tumils through ongoing linguistic analyses, including an inclusive examination of the term and identity “coolies.” As an ethnographic work, Tea and Solidarity connects the label to larger systems of dispossession Tumil workers face and investigates the multiscalar impacts of its use. As we have seen, linguistic considerations are crucial for understanding the subtleties of structural oppression, with inequity coded into the daily experiences of marginalized communities. An aspect of Jegathesan’s work that I particularly enjoyed was her engagement with other scholarly work, including multimedia research and its connection to her ethnography. Wide-encompassing ethnographies include discussion of supplementary work, but before now, I had not seen an ethnographer explore film and other multimedia projects to enrich their conversations. I am very interested in exploring art in my ethnographies and resonate with the discussion Jegathesan included with emic forms of expression besides written language.

Reading Jegathesan’s work with Hill Country Tamils in Sri Lanka reminds me a lot of the history between the Spanish colonizers and indigenous peoples in Latin America, especially in relation to coffee plantations. I was specifically reminded of the book, Mayalogue: An Interactionist Theory of Indigenous Cultures by Victor Montejo. In his book, Montejo emphasizes how indigenous persons were perceived  as “primitive,” “ignorant” and “half humans” (the horrific list goes on). I thought of Montejo’s work as I read the description of “coolie” as a “beast to be tamed” and “subhuman.” (12) As the indigenous were in Latin America, the Hill Country Tamils were made out to be less human as a justification for their slavery, and what is now “gentle slavery” continues today. (13)

Additionally, I was surprised that the word “coolie” actually comes from a Tamil word referring to the “payment for menial labor,” utilizing Tamil to establish what I believe Jegathesan refers to when she says, “the language of oppression.” (65) It is not Tamil itself of course, but the way in which it has been used by colonizers and outsiders to control the Hill Country Tamils. Looking at the language that the English superintendents learned in order to give commands is shocking because it is not far from the commands one might give a dog in terms of its brevity and simplicity with no respect for cultural nuances; instead, it is an extremely direct translation from English to Tamil. This once again reminds me of the history of colonization that Montejo describes in his book because he speaks to the study of Maya culture and language by missionaries in accordance with the king’s wishes and tells how many of them ultimately used this against them; Bishop Diego de Lanka was so shocked by what he learned about the Mayas that he actually burned down their library.

Furthermore, I appreciated  Jegathesan discussion of language in her book, almost dissecting the word “coolie” as a cultural artifact itself. However, I did feel that this chapter was lacking in terms of vignettes; I really wanted to learn more about the perspectives of the individuals she worked with and their thoughts on Tamil and its use by British colonizers/superintendents. Having known very little about Sri Lanka before this reading, it was very enlightening to learn about the Hill Country Tamils and Sri Lanka’s history. 

To start I thought the book was very interesting as starting from the title. The land of the open graves brings a sense of thought into one’s mind as you would think about how a grave can be open. one quote bet stuck out to me “the violence and the death that border crosses face daily as they attempt to enter the United States without authorization by walking across the vast Sonoran Desert of Arizona.” (page 3). To start this book off book that immense quote of death brings a sense of somber to the book because of the way people are treated while just trying to get into America. As many people only think of America as the land of the free, we fail to realize how many people try to come illegally throughout the days or months that are met with violence at the border. The authorize individual way which you can visualize every event that is happening as he writes. I think this is very intriguing because most of the time we only can get caught up in just reading a document or a book but by having visual storytelling it is a way to visualize what is happening in the book.

I appreciated the choice of reading for this week as it covers the main topic of last class, cultural artifacts. The author well blends the items shown, with the interviews presented in the work. It did bring up a few questions for me, one was his stance on participating, even as an outsider, to the struggles encountered by those he interviewed. He highlights his privilege as a reason for refusing the request, since he can’t accurately give a representation of what an illegal migrant would go through, instead he presents the story of another person who did decide to participate, and subsequently criticized that person for focusing on their experience not the experience of the migrants. He says you can only present your own story, and then criticizes someone for focusing on their own story? seems Hypocritical. Perhaps I’m wrong here, but it appeared to me that safety was the important factor, not providing an accurate experience.

I enjoyed this week’s reading by Jason de Leon particularly because of his multi-disciplinary approach to the study of migrant experiences. By visually enhancing his storytelling through imagery, photos, and artifacts, he does a very good job of anchoring his arguments in the migrant experience. The first image that comes to mind as I write this is the photo of the tennis shoes reinforced by bra straps. To consider these artifacts as “trash,” Leon explains, would be to diminish their value as representations of the resilience of migrants and their resistance against structural violence. The use of poignant imagery such as this one shows that visual representation can be a powerful tool of evocative storytelling and is something that I can readily utilize for my own projects when appropriate.

On the analytical side of things, I found it challenging to establish a firm stance on Leon’s justification for a few of his research methods. Although it was refreshing to have such a detailed description of his reasoning for determining his level of involvement and support of migrants, I realized that his research (just like anyone else’s) is solely predicated upon his own moral judgments which at times seemed conflicting. I did not see anything necessarily wrong with his approaches and certainly understand his refusal to participate in “entry without inspection,” however, when putting myself in his shoes, I felt thoroughly conflicted. He explains that his positionality and privilege complicate the act of participant observation since his subject matter includes phenomena that would be illegal for others but (potentially) not as detrimental for him, but it seems that this disconnect cannot be readily reconciled. His privilege exists regardless of his attempts to lessen its effects which for me would make this research a bit uncomfortable. This feeling, to me, is exacerbated by the fact that he will also profit in many ways from sharing the perilous stories of these migrants. That is not to say that he did anything wrong but just that the awareness of your positionality can offer some conceptual dilemmas. Scheper-Hughes wrote about the need for an anthropology rooted in activism as opposed to simply observation since even when the researcher leaves their field site, the violence, in this case, continues.

Had a chem test last week so I couldn’t do my usual long rambling blog post.

Anyways, the author’s opening remarks about how after spending lots of time in their field the stand out details of the field site lost their edge or notability, provides a contrast to what we talked about in class last week. Dr. Bjork-James mentioned that ethnographers seem to love to brag about how much time they spend in the field, but based on these first sentences maybe spending a super long time in the field isn’t always better. On the other hand, I really appreciate the author’s efforts to explore the topic in the most sensitive and ethical way. I also like that the author chose to research the topic, that has been greatly covered, in a way that hasn’t been done before that utilizes new methods of analysis. I think both of these aspects are vital for improving the way vulnerable groups are studied. Additionally, I think it speaks truly to the purpose of ethnography to look at parts of a community experience that haven’t been covered/integrate other types of research methods; by doing so, we can better understand the problems being researched.

I really enjoyed how the author chose to tell the chapter through the informant’s own words. As per last week’s reading it makes ethnography’s, in my opinion, a lot less enjoyable and really limits the audience, when tons of dense, academic writing is used. I also think it is a great tool for centering the narrative on those being studied, something the author states was very important to them. I don’t have a problem with academic writing but I just think sometimes its so unnecessary and I don’t think super academic writing fits well or is useful in ethnographies. I would hate to spend years doing research just for my book to be too dense or hard to understand for the vast majority of people.

On a similar note, after reading Munchinson chapter fourteen I guess there are times where the ethnography being more academic makes sense, especially if its only going to be read by an academic audience. I still think its limiting to an extent.

Additionally, this weeks Munchinson reading has lead me to determine how exactly I want to frame my paper and that I will probably use composite descriptions to share my findings, especially because the subject matter is so sensitive. I also think using composite description will help me better apply my research to the greater issues surrounding identity among black queer adolescents.

In last week’s reading the strengthening of the Dominican-Haitian border being used to fuel nationalism, which is something we have definitely seen in the United States with the demonization of Mexican immigrants as a threat and as a scapegoat for job loss. Pieces such as this that document the people who are crossing the US-Mexico border and the systemic reasons for the crossing are important to creating a more accurate narrative/discussion on the border. I think in particular De Leon does a good job of including the perspectives of the informants in her ethnography, and even using photos taken by them of their journey. The opening of chapter seven showed her ability to connect with her informants Lucho and Memo as well as introduce the high stakes of the crossing. This opening shows a potential value of using personal experience in an ethnography, in this case as a way to gain further investment from the reader

I really enjoyed the approach to ethnography that De León took in The Land of Open Graves. Not only was it really easy for me to understand and follow along with the reasons why De León thought that archaeology and studying the objects left behind by immigrants on the migrant trail was important, but I also was able to get attached to the stories told in this ethnography. In the introduction, Jason De León discusses his desire to adhere to the wishes of the people he met along the border by portraying their experiences as accurately as possible and allowing his readers to understand that these are real people instead of subscribing to prejudiced narratives that exist throughout our media. I can confidently say that this ethnography accomplishes this goal and allows the reader to get a better understanding of what it might be like to have to illegally immigrate into the United States. I also thought this ethnography could definitely connect to earlier ethnographies we read because of the discussions about the environment and objects left behind during the crossing. Like our earlier discussion about the river filled with drug paraphernalia, this ethnography also explored the connection between the environment and narratives being put out about those who have left items there. Both drug addiction and illegal immigration certainly carry stigmas in our society and so it was interesting to compare these two situations and see how they might be similar and different. Furthermore, I thought that the technique of alternating between interviews and analysis in this ethnography helped to contextualize and amplify the experiences of the interviewees, which is especially important with a topic like this. Overall, I was super glad to have read this ethnography and am planning on reading the rest of the book when I have more free time this summer.

I really enjoyed this week’s reading and felt as though it was a bit more lighthearted despite some of the darker descriptions (in comparison to some of the other ethnographies we have read). I thought that De Leon did a wonderful job of building a story arch and effectively providing details that allowed the reader to connect with the different characters, such as Memo and Lucho, and better understand how their minds work and what they were thinking during their conversations and experiences. I liked how De Leon opened chapter 7, describing the excitement and good vibes of Lucho and Memo’s phone call and subsequent arrival in Tucson. I could easily imagine the three of them spending the day on the couch, thrilled and relieved to see each other, watching sports, sipping on beers, and discussing their experiences during the journey. Another part of this chapter that I noted was the author’s description of the turmoil and trauma of the journey across the border. He noted that many migrants, despite going through the experience many years ago, are reluctant to talk about their time in the Sonoran desert because of the gruesome and traumatic memories that are brought up. We can see this more through the interviews, photographs, and data included in the ethnography. I really enjoyed the format of this ethnography and the way that De Leons effectively juxtaposed the interview conversations with photographs from the journey and archeological data. The interviews are structured as multiple conversations between the participants which was easy to follow and the reader can truly see the tone of the conversation — happy, excited, sad, melancholy, discovery, etc. The conversations were all backed up with archeological data, descriptions, and photographs to provide the necessary input and context for the reader, which I appreciated as well.

I was really excited to read this book, the Land of the Open Graves, because I had the opportunity to meet Jason de Leon last semester when he came to campus during his exhibit, Hostile Terrain. I got to chat with him in a small group of anthro and CLACX grad students, and I remember his demeanor feeling really casual and familiar. He dropped a few f bombs almost immediately into the conversation. So when I started reading this book, I was reading it in his voice and picturing his demeanor. When he used the word “dude” on page 2 to describe the man who had died, I was not as surprised as I think I would have been, had I not been thinking about Jason the person. I like how he draws in the reader, noting on page three, “If you live in the United States, you already know many of the people you will meet in these pages” (3). This really draws everyone in–yes, you already know these people. You can’t turn away or think that this somehow does not affect you. If you live in the US, this is something you know about. This is something you have stake in, something you can’t ignore. This is a moral injustice you must pay attention to.

I really like his framing of “documenting the undocumented” and the continued imagery of the invisible/visible divide. The invisible borders, invisible consequences, invisible humans who are all made that way as an intentional tactic by the US federal government. When he talks about the Tohono O’odham “Desert People,” (7-9), I really appreciate the way that he makes their lives visible. He doesn’t fall into the trap of presenting the desert as a barren, lifeless, human-less place, but for the migrants attempting to cross it, which is an easy thing for many migration stories to do. Instead, he points out that yes, there are people who live in the beauty of the desert and call it home. But for others, the “border crossers who pass through this region do not share in the cultural acumen that conceptualizes this landscape as inviting” (8). I just love this sentence, because he’s honoring the people who do, naming them and explaining them, but then also saying that for others, the border crossers, it is not experienced in this way, and both of these relationships can exist simultaneously.

I think it’s hard to overstate the impact of NAFTA on the increase in migrants coming from Mexico in 1994, so I also appreciate his connection to that law and the impact of regional and global economic phenomenon. I wonder, in thinking with Anna Tsing’s Mushroom at the End of the World, are there places in the border crossing experience that could be considered “salvage accumulation?” In this case, are the humans themselves part of the accumulation?

I’m also left thinking about his description of Seth Holmes’s work, as well as other journalists that took the journey alongside migrants, but with their passports at the ready to save them, if necessary. Did Seth Holmes write back? And does he stand by this? I wonder if de Leon could ever conceive of a way in which someone could take the journey (with a US passport) and do it ethically? Is it always going to be problematic because of the power differential? Lastly, I’m really excited and inspired by his idea of “holistic anthropology,” drawing on each subfield to draw an entire picture. While I’m not sure how I will use archaeology in my work, I do expect to use biological anthropology, as well as linguistic anthropology to describe maternal health in my own work.

As an Anthropology major, I’d actually taken a course last semester– Cultural Anthropology– in which we read The Land of  Open Graves in it’s entirety, which I would highly recommend if you liked the introduction and Chapter 7. I also had the opportunity to hear author Jason De Leon speak at Vanderbilt which was extremely fascinating as he talked about the real life interviews and interactions he had. Ongoing in this section of the book, and throughout others at points, is the story of Memo and Lucho. I particularly enjoyed this section of the book because the majority of the novel is frankly pessimistic in its criticism of the current government policy surrounding border crossing specifically in the Sonoran desert. However, Memo and Lucho’s story is a point in which we can see De Leon display the optimism of the migrants in their journey, and allows the audience to get a grasp of how much faith these indiviudals have in their dream to come the the states and just how meticulously they must prepare in order to be successful. What’s interesting about Memo and Lucho’s journey is that they were initially unsuccessful after being apprehended and forced to return home in their first crossing attempt, however, they demonstrate resilience in their next successful attempt. What De Leon spends most of his time speaking to is the policy of “Prevention Through Deterrence” or PTD, which was essetially based upon the idea that forcing migrants to cross in a deadly desert region where the chances of survival are evidently low would deter them from migrating in the first place, preventing more illegal immigration into the states. He points out the flaws  with the nature of this policy and goes on to critique the cruel nature of current legislative policy against illegal immigrants on a holistic level. Questions I would ask based on the reading– We know that PTD is not the correct way to approach illegal immigration levels, so how should we actually handle it? 

Through interviews, participant-observation, photography, and archaeology, De León sheds light on the lived experience of migrants traversing the Sonoran desert. Their first hand accounts reveal the disturbing reality of Prevention Through Deterrence and the hybrid collectif. In chapter 7, De León documents Memo and Lucho’s final crossing of the border. Their experiences are a testament to the determination of border crossers as well as the inefficacy of prevention through deterrence; regardless of the amount of resources funneled into border security, those seeking to improve their material condition in the U.S. will continue to risk their lives. Systems like Operation streamline can’t keep migrants from crossing given the fact that it’s impossible to prosecute them all in federal courts. Furthermore, private corporations profit from the detainment of migrants. Overall, I think that it’s incredibly ironic that the United States’ war on immigration (fight for sovereignty) is now a model for other countries seeking to quell unwanted migration. How are we to go about altering perceptions of borders and sovereignty if more and more nations take to vilifying outsiders?

I genuinely enjoyed this reading by De Leon and thought that the ethnography he presented took on a unique stance. Allowing his subjects to document their own experiences was something I had never considered, but as the author discussed, a hands-off approach can be helpful in allowing participants to have more freedom in what they contribute to the work. They do not have to feel uncomfortable in the presence of an outsider and are granted more agency in revealing their own experiences, as it is, after all, their experience, and not an experience guided through someone else’s perspective. I suppose this is similar to allowing interviewees to talk about themselves or reply to open questions rather than directly asking them specific questions.

De Leon thought his presence could lead to risk in his research and field sight – thus, I’m wondering how much of anthropological work does end up being biased due to the unwarranted presence of a stranger? Even in documentary fieldwork, filmmakers can easily tell their subjects what to do and when to do it in order to gather the content they wish to show audiences. Alternatively, people can change their behavior or things they say because there is a camera or researcher present. As a result, true experiences and lived realities are not being portrayed in a genuine light, leading to false understandings of a culture or area of study. Thus, it is interesting to consider De Leon’s methods of ethnography. While there is a risk in not being able to control and monitor certain aspects of the conducted research, there is also a risk that interference would corrupt the gathered data.

The Land of Open Graves struck me from the very beginning because of De León’s writing style. At first, the less monotonous, more conversational language and style of De León’s ethnography was offsetting as I am used to a more neutral-toned narrative. Although many of the ethnographies we have read also blur the line between formal and informal, the language and descriptions littered throughout this one set themselves apart. As a strategic tool to match the tonality of his interviewees, the frank and humorous narration incorporated the bones of his research in the experiences of the people he studied with. De León’s use of photography in this ethnography intrigued me as well. Pictures can share vivid details about scenes and document visual histories, supplementing the descriptions and stories in an ethnographer’s work. Moreover, De León discussed how photography can be deleterious and unproductive, ensuring that its inclusion in his work circumnavigates those issues. Giving the interlocutors cameras to self-document their travel further minimizes the ethnographer’s impact on the community they work with; however, as De León posited, this impact is never fully negated. Also in the introduction, De León described his distinct method of ethnography, expanding on the problems that can arise when an outsider attempts to “‘witness’” a process fundamentally different from their own experiences (38). Through delineating the unnecessary risks his presence would cause in the field site, De León discussed the contradictions of participant observation and how it would impede his ability to capture the real experiences of the people he talks to. Specifically in the case of “documenting the undocumented,” De León is acutely aware that his presence would disrupt the habitus of the process, precipitating him to shift his methodological focus away from participant-observation toward emphasizing informal and formal interviews, visual histories of the experience, and archeological reconstructing of material stories (36). De León’s employment of anthropology in his research was fourfold, incorporating ethnography, archaeology, forensic science, and linguistics in his pursuit to enhance our understanding of the process of undocumented desert migration (41). These new modes of conducting and representing fieldwork that De León explored in The Land of Open Graves were illuminating for my understanding of what an ethnography can be. I am very interested in the holistic approach De León took with his research and want to recapture the genuity of his work in my own research project.