Research that matters

The theme that stuck out most to me in this reading, that has recurred in the ethnographies we have read time and time again, is the connection between people and the physical space that they occupy. The loss of control and interdependence of this land dates back to the Christian colonial state. Lara states that “Body-lands are not separate from nature- we are co-constituted bodies and beings.” This can be seen through a few different observations Lara conducts in the Dominican Republic. Loma Miranda was being plagued by pollution, which threatened the entire island population. However, virtually all facets of the community came together, including government officials, in order to protect the land. They were successful- the destruction of Loma Miranda is now illegal. This was a glimmer of hope in a pretty dark and tragic ethnography. Lara goes on to state that “The Body-land and its accompanying ecological integrity are central to campesino spiritual autonomy.” This is a stark contrast to the way major Western powers view the environment. I would actually argue that in these countries, it is seen as a sign of weakness to prioritize the health of the planet. Although colonization technically occurred centuries ago, its effects are very much still prevalent today. Like the spirits of the body-lands, colonialism transcends space and time and still excludes multitudes of people, policies, and lands from the narrative.

When discussing the conquista and colonialism as a whole, we tend to imagine these concepts as historical artifacts—as happenings of the past that are in indeed still impacting the present and that will continue the affect the future. However, I appreciate Lara’s exploration of Christian colonialism as an active concept of the present, not an aging actor of the past. If I understand correctly, Lara expresses this in her statement that, “The reification and instantiation of gender binaries, racial hierarchies, and heteronormativity become dense knots expressing the disciplinary powers of Christian coloniality…body-lands are conquered and settled for the perpetuation of Christendom” (68). This is an incredibly powerful analysis by Lara that again removes colonially from its traditional perception by describing peoples’ bodies, particularly those of indigenous and Black queer individuals, as what is being conquered in the present day. By using the concept of “body-lands,” we can better understand present-day colonialism as not only conquering physical land but also peoples’ bodies/sovereignty.

While many of the topics that Lara touches on are rather heavy and tragic elements of the Caribbean’s past and present, I was particularly inspired by one of her responses to the lack of queer freedom : Black sovereignty in the world today: “There is no door to magically go through and become another. This is the world we have received, on loan from future generations, as an inheritance from our ancestors—all of our ancestors, including those yet to come. And so now, we must transform it” (18). I feel as though I have heard few academics express this kind of hope (at least in my recent studies and readings!) and encouragement for present generations; it seems that in academics, we do tend to focus on the rather upsetting, horrific elements of the world and rightfully so. However, Lara, here, was intentionally expressing–speaking almost like a parent to a child in the way she expresses to us as readers–that we must understand this is the context we have to work with; we must make a change in this world because it is the only one we have.

Finally, I also wanted to mention how Lara’s use of the ofrenda as a form of framing her book and her argument. I think by doing this, she creates a space where her argument can rest, expressing that her argument has been placed out in the open and has been offered to the readers for debate, contemplation and hopefully even action. It is also a space where a new future can be imagined. Lara says, “This ofrenda serves as a method that enables the process of imagining land restoration, the interruption of trauma, the possibilities of new histories, and the erotic autonomy of queer : Indigenous and queer : Black beings” (5).

I personally enjoyed how Ana-Maurine drew audiences in by forcing them to reconsider their understanding of terms that seem so common and accessible to some demographics – words like “gender,” “race,” or “freedom”. What does it mean to have sovereignty in these realms? Who dictates such sovereignty? What is the meaning of the individual in relation to infrastructure that authorizes things like queer freedom and black sovereignty?

Ana-Maurine delves into her research through interviewing many different demographics of people among multiple field sites to truly gain an understanding of these ideas to reframe contemporary conversations about queerness and blackness. This chapter emphasizes the violence that stems from these controversial topics, and it is interesting to see how they impact different types of communities and fields of thought.

Her ethnographies highlight the idea that questions surrounding these ideas are not particularly meant to be answered, but more so explored. Thus, I wonder, how can we as anthropologists reconcile the fact that our research will have no concrete answer, and how can we arrange our methods of inquiry in order to reach these intangible goals and results?

In her book, Ana-Maurine Lara argues that being Black and queer challenges Christian colonial hermeticism and paves the way for values, knowledge, and being that never cease to exist despite the colonial order’s attempts to marginalize, deny, and eradicate. The dominating theme throughout the chapter is that of war and violence, which is evident from the linguistic choices and subject matter. In other words, how the book is written and what it writes about  for reflects its unifying theme of war.

Firstly, the books employs both English and Spanish, making it understandable to neither those who speaks solely English or Spanish. Similarly, neither Christian colonial hermeticism nor Queer freedom : Black sovereignty claims total dominance over the other, instead they exist and continue to engage in violence. Secondly, the book mentions several figures, most of which represents a display of conflicts. The las Mercedes is morena, but forced to appear blanca; Her presence is both seen as a sign of conquest and a sign of justice. Wilma’s clinic and Adela’s healing practice introduce another conflict. Wilma’s clinic was a place that claims to uphold the love of God, yet it shows no love for the people, turning them away on the basis of religion. Adela’s household grows out of such marginalization, and exists primarily to welcome the marginalized.

Reading the book reminds me of a persistent question I have about anthropology: Given the dense style of writing adopted by most ethnographic work, how can ethnographic written create meaningful impacts on the problems it targets? This book is certainly not written in the most reader-friendly style, and will be unlikely to appear appealing to the common reader especially when placed next to other books on ‘trendy’ topics written in easy-to-understand and lively styles. Perhaps unintentionally, the author partially addresses my question. Specifically, the author talked about how publications and presentations by anthropologists, historians, and other scholars in helped foster the emergence of alternative discourse. Accordingly, is the role of ethnographic writing to cause alternative conversations to emerge even just within the exclusive scholar world, and in doing so, lay the first stones for subsequent effort to popularize these dialogues and trigger relevant policy changes?

I like how the author opens up the writing giving a detailed picture of the setting.

Especially with there being such a big problem with addiction, I feel like accounts that humanize addicts and make others realize how difficult addiction is to overcome are really important. This country is greatly lacking adequate methods of addressing people suffering from addiction. People forget that addiction can happen to literally anyone and that often many people are prescribed the pills that they become addicted to. This ethnography demonstrates why such studies  are important as it reveals the underlying structural and societal issues that are causing such issues. I also like how the author is doing an ethnography of a community that they belong to and that they incorporate the actual language their subjects use, like Zora Neale Hurston.

Another thing that I realized I’m growing to like about ethnographies is all the frameworks and lenses the authors include. I feel like its good for addressing peoples’ different ontologies and provides so much clarity. I think its also a great way to help identify certain relationships or experiences or structures that aren’t explicitly discussed.

Additionally, hearing about the ASI test the author mentions, provides another reason for the importance of ethnographies; they can help develop more accurate means of evaluating someone for a condition that can’t be quantitatively tested for.

I never thought of the issue of looking at addiction as a chronic condition, but it makes sense that especially with a condition that is so subjective, better ways of framing it can and should be developed.

My main takeaway was the importance of determining community relations and structural components when analyzing problems in a community. I feel can be applied to every issue in every community. Trying to unpack these structural issues is important, as well as trying to find solutions that work in the context of the people who are being affected.

In terms of writing field notes, I feel like choosing specific notable aspects meanwhile also having to write down things you may not initially see as significant is difficult. I definitely have to change how I write field notes however, especially because when people speak I’m so focused on directly quoting them. Finding balance is just difficult, and I feel like that’s such an important part of ethnographies in every one of their aspects. Chapter five I think reiterates the importance of understanding other peoples ontologies and looking at these cultures through more appropriate frameworks.

This ethnography was heartbreaking and enlightening. I really liked the opening framing about the river, drawing the parallels about how heroin touches all parts of life in this part of New Mexico. On page 12, Garcia describes the “internalization of moral codes,” which made me think about how legal rulings, across the board, often have moral implications baked into them simultaneously. I’m also thinking about how alcohol, while still deeply problematic in our society, is moving toward being more “morally acceptable” in the public eye, as many organizations like alcoholics anonymous and public health agencies have worked to understand alcoholism as a disease, not a personal choice. This distinctive move away from personal choice can shift the moral weight off of the patient. But in the case, that changes, when the drug is illegal. In this case, the moral implications are deeper and the individual responsibility is invoked more strongly.

Later, on page 13, she says, “heroin is medicine; it relieves the pain its use creates” (13).  This makes me wonder whether there are other harmful drugs that we think about as medicine. It is clear that the line is blurred between medicine and drugs, between harm and healing, with this particular substance and others. Lastly in the introduction, she talks about “chronicity,” and includes this one quote from a worker, who said, “We can’t save somebody who doesn’t want to be saved” (16). While deeply sad to read this, it makes me wonder if this sort of attitude is a necessary self-preservation or resilience tactic used by the workers and volunteers, who see folks like John go in and out of their doors every day, to cemeteries and to jail. I’m sure the weight of that responsibility, guilt, and care is intense. A numbness may be required in order to continue working in the field.

In chapter 5, the opening story is absolutely heartbreaking. I wonder if this experience changed how she went about doing her fieldwork in the future or if she still experiences guilt due to her intentional lack of engagement with the family.

In Angela Garcia’s The Pastoral Clinic: Addiction and Dispossession along the RIo Grande, the author tells us about the unsettling grip that heroin holds specifically within a hispanic community region along the Rio Grande. What I found particularly interesting is the fact that the author is able to articulate her findings and interpretations of the ethnographic study from the perspective of a detoxification attendant at a drug addiction treatment clinic. It is through this worldview that Garcia is able to explore what she defines as the “patient-prisoner” phenomena, and how the logic, hardship, and juridical regimes play into her witnessing of heroin addiction. It is this hardship that numerous patients are forced to endure that Garcia witnesses extract a sense of failure and “collective sense of hopelessness and, in turn, the regional heroin problem itself” (pg 9). Thinking about the geography of the addiction and how regional factors may interlock with local history, politics, and culture allowed for the development of, what I perceived to be, a more holistic view and understanding of heroin prevalence in the Espanola Valley specifically. Garcia is constantly experimenting with the idea of morality and subjectivity, and how interconnected they are with the idea of addiction, contributing to her desire to rethink how drug addiction is currently situated in the framework of our society and how we move to define this demographic of people. 

In terms of tying this into my own research, I’m left wondering how Garcia seeks to define this group of people, let alone provide them relief. Who should be providing them relief, to what extent should legislative measures or government involvement be taken? I’m also interested in her ethnographic techniques specifically as it pertained to participation observation in the clinic setting in which she was working— where does one draw the line between what we define as participant observation versus a higher level of direct involvement?

I really enjoyed this week’s reading and found it very intriguing – I was captivated immediately and found it easy to get through the reading quickly while still absorbing all of the information. Garcia spends years doing field work in New Mexico and observing her neighbors and the people within the community. She writes her ethnography in a narrative style that is captivating and significant, allowing the reader to connect to the different “characters” and understand the gravity of the drug problems within this community. One of the most important quotes that I noted from chapter 5 is “He asked me, from an “insider perspective,” what I thought the biggest problem was with the clinic. I looked around me and answered: life outside it” (190). I thought this line was very profound and captured one of the main points of this ethnography. Chapter 5 primarily discusses how the detoxication clinic was shut down because it was considered too “unstable” to remain open. However, an important point that is captured in this quote is the fact that the clinic, meant to help solve some of the problems within the community, itself was shut down without any true alternative solution. It is the structural issues of this community that condone and even amplify the drug problems and fail to find effective solutions. For example, a woman that Garcia met discusses how when she needed to go through a heroin detox, her only options were to remain trapped in her abusive family home or leave her children and find housing somewhere else. In this case, neither of the options are favorable solutions and both place the woman into a vulnerable and hopeless state. Garcia demonstrates that without fundamental changes to the structure of the community and the necessary resources, the drug problem will continue to persist and endanger the lives of many. This leads me to ask the question: what are other places or situations that one may see issues similar to that of the communities in this ethnography? This does not necessarily mean a drug problem, but rather situations where the community is essentially trapped without the necessary resources to help them.

Immediately, along with the other ethnographic texts we have read, The Pastoral Clinic caught my attention because of the ways Garcia interacts with her ethnographic methods. Through elaborating on particular narratives within her fieldwork, Garcia engages her arguments with the emic perspective of her work. Productively and ethically she describes the lives of the people in Española Valley through their experiences. The stories that were shared ground the impacts felt by this community and communicate these lives to people otherwise unconnected to them. I found Garcia’s examination of specific language in community outreach materials very compelling. Language, despite possessing particular definitions, is rich with diverse connotations. Garcia’s analysis of how language in these materials perpetuated the assigned blame on the community raises important implications useful to other ethnographic work. Specifically, I can utilize this technique when thinking about the numerous definitions of the climate crisis, and the different ways people understand it. Moreover, Garcia’s discussion of the damaging stigma against addiction and the many ways it manifests in Española Valley elucidates the legacy of pain in this community. I further enjoyed Garcia’s use of quotes when describing the experiences and beliefs of the people she interviewed and worked with. When considering my project, I hope to also directly interject my interviewee’s ideologies in my conversation of the larger themes around my topic. Moreover, not unlike the other ethnographies we have read, Garcia makes herself active in her analysis. Her argument is thus supported by in-depth research and analysis with, and her experience removed from, the people she studies with. Putting etic and emic perspectives in conversation with each other strengthens Garcia’s argument of the material and cultural dispossession of land and its connection to the experience of addiction.

In Chapter 5 we are introduced to Adela, a former midwife turned “home detox” provider. This reminded me of our week 8 reading on the state of midwifery in Mexico. The healthcare inequities plaguing midwifery in rural Mexico are also present in detox care in New Mexico. The first comparison I could make was a loss of trust in institutions. With midwives, the locals were skeptical of people in uniforms likely due to the failure of official healthcare to provide adequate care. In New Mexico, Health Valve burned bridges to the community by closing the local detox clinic for failing to meet internal standards, leaving state health to train the community to be responsible for using Narcan to fight overdoses. There is also a distinct class inequity to treatment, as there were nearby treatment centers that were incredibly expensive, neglecting rural areas and anyone who could not afford treatment.

Returning to Adela, through working as a midwife and experiencing a son becoming addicted to opium and dying, “developed a high tolerance for being in the presence of another body in pain,”(Garcia 194). This, in much the same way as Latin American midwives, tended to come from within communities to provide care when the existing healthcare systems failed to serve them. Is this a good comparison? Could similar techniques be adopted to combat both forms of healthcare inequity?

After reading Garcia’s ethnography, I’m most interested in her pastoral framework and how it contextualizes heroin use in New Mexico’s Española Valley. Rather than using an isolationist approach that confines personal histories of addiction to an individual’s psychology, the pastoral is able to address the historical and current forces that facilitate an environment conducive to individuals’ drug addiction. Garcia also touches on the stigma of drug addiction and its role in inhibiting access to care. I believe that the words of one of her interviewees speaks to the embodiment of this stigma, she notes, “Their addiction, they said, was in the blood, like a virus, something they could not eradicate or recover from, even if they wanted to” (202). I think that preconceptions and even misconceptions concerning addiction on the behalf of healthcare professionals plays into and solidifies addicts’ diminished self worth and growing helplessness. This also gets at issues concerning dependency, so I’d like to ask: When do those suffering from addiction get to occupy the sick role, if at all? 

I actually had the pleasure of reading this book for the second time for this class; the first being in a medical anthropology course during my junior year. I compared my notes from both times and found that themes of responsibility and subjectivity came to the forefront each time, however, the latter took on a new sense of importance this time around. Responsibility, of course, was a topic that I also connected to our readings on midwifery in Mexico. In the same way that the sources of responsibility were obscured in terms of maternal mortality, heroin addicts assume full responsibility for their recovery after they have received the resources offered by the government. Moral judgments then follow, portraying the addict as either a “good” or “bad” patient, a “good” or “bad” citizen. By removing from the focus the structural and historical factors that facilitate the continuance of substance dependence, the addict becomes the point of scrutiny and he alone bears the responsibility of the trauma that came before him.

What I found interesting though, during the second reading of this book was this particular quote and its implications: “forms of governance become forces for the creation of new forms of subjectivity” (8) Subjectivity, as described by Sherry Ortner, is “the ensemble of modes of perception, affect, thought, desire, fear, and so forth that animate acting subjects.”(Ortner 2005; 31) It is through subjectivity that an individual’s agency is altered by the social structures that their bodies exist under. For example, the punitive approach assigns moral judgments to the body of the addict, suggesting that an internal change in will or virtue is needed. However, the medicalization of drug abuse assigns the body with a physiological affliction, suggesting that recovery is not completely achieved through choice. Subjectivity, though, is shifted depending on the way in which the body is portrayed. Perceptions (both from the outsider’s perspective and the addict’s) of the addict’s body take new forms depending upon the governance of that body. Emotions are embedded in both of these realities that in turn impact the decisions made for the addict’s body. The power of perception is given to the governing body which then fuels disparity when handled incorrectly.

These two themes go hand in hand, however, I was amazed to see how the social manifests itself into the emotional and physiological worlds of individuals. I appreciated how Garcia focused on the experiential facets of heroin addiction and connects these emotions to the historical and economic trauma experienced by this demographic from colonialization to contemporary inequality.

I think the theme that struck me the most was the concept of a patient-prisoner. Garcia states: “Addicts assigned to the drug court system are dually and contradictorily marked; the addict/offender is patient and prisoner. The patient-prisoner experiences the weight of a double sentence- to recover and reckon.” The US legal system plays a direct role in the high rates of recidivism of drug addicts. Instead of providing truly helpful and meaningful resources for addiction, the system rather sends those suffering to prison. I learned a lot about this topic in my criminology class, specifically the war on drugs declared in the 80s and 90s. I’d be interested to read about how other countries with much better rehabilitation programs approach the problem of addiction and crime.

A small but relevant part of Garcia’s work, particularly to this class, is the fact that she began her research with a different intended focus than the final product. She states that she originally wanted to look at the experience of recovering addicts within the Evangelical Christian community. However, as she embarked on her research, she shifted the narrative toward state funded treatment centers. I think this shows the importance of being flexible with your original research question, and that sometimes the original conception will not give the optimal results. Although it may be a hassle to change, it will ultimately yield better results. This is encouraging to see as I am about to begin my own research, and very well might have to shift my focus, considering the sensitive nature of the subject.

I personally enjoyed Garcia’s close and personalized ethnography of those in her community and their experiences with drugs – how it affects their lives, what it does to them on a physical and emotional level, and how it intertwines with larger infrastructure and policies that defines their demographic. Because Garcia included personal stories in her ethnography, such as the father who decided to use heroin for his crying child, there was an emotional aspect that I believe draws in readers and allows them to better resonate with the subjects and understand their situations in a way that evokes active response. Thus, here, Garcia seems to approach her work in not through an objective route, but a route that inspires others to advocate for safer communities and policies surrounding drug use. As a result, she pulls in the importance of public health professionals and their value in communicating and educating safe drug use. However, more than policies and regulations, there is value in that such communication is made on a personal and interpersonal level in order that individuals, families, and generations of families are protected from the harms of drugs in the long run.

Here, Garcia clearly has a personal connection with the community she is interviewing and observing, which I believe I will be able to tie into my own research. I am wondering, however, how Garcia is able to detach herself from this personalized approach to ethnography – or rather, is this emotional aspect what is projecting and motivating the intention behind her work? As a Korean American woman who will be interviewing Korean American women, will I detach myself from their responses to my question or use it as way to promote self-appreciation and cultural appreciation in identity?

Dr. Garcia’s Pastoral Clinic is a fascinating ethnography surrounding the lives of those who are recovering addicts across different but interconnected fields. “From the clinic to the courthouse,” Dr. Garcia argues that the singularness of of release and rehabilitation is actually linked to broader society as she looks specifically at a rehab center in New Mexico. Her arguments also emphasize how the scientific and public health community’s views of addiction as a chronic illness has both benefits and contradictions to medical treatment for those who are addicts (15).  For example, the relapse is considered inevitable which can send the wrong messages to those in rehab or even the medical providers who assist the patients.

I found her conversations regarding Espanola Valley and Los Alamos comparison fascinating as she digs beyond the technological innovations that Los Alamos had accrued, and instead, she opined that attitudes about reform to medical community in New Mexico and the United States as a whole particularly the switch to manage care models initiated the changes in technology and other reforms. The result of not meeting the standards of manage care models meant being labeled “unstable” and “not credible.”  As a result, stories’ such as Christina’s would occur where those with suffered with addictions were forced to either leave home away from the resources or stay in some of the conditions that may have bolstered their struggles with addiction.

As for areas that I will take note for my paper, I sometimes found discovering what the central argument of Dr. Garcia’s book difficult. Although its common for scholars to have multiple arguments, I often did not know which argument was the star or main premise. However, Pastoral Clinic cogently paints a picture of the negative/contradictory impacts of defining addiction as  a chronic disease.

The extent of Garcia involvement in her site work truly reflects through her vivid descriptions and makes her writing arguably more emotional than the previous pieces we read.

I was personally stuck by the opening story in Chapter 5, which revolved around how a father caused his own child’s death with drug overdose. What both intrigues and upsets me the most is what the father’s decision to use heroin to help his crying child implies. Why was the heroin there, somewhere near a child’s bed? Was heroin so prevalent in his surrounding and deeply attached to his identity that he would turn to such drug in moments of confusion? Had the child managed to survived, would it be possible for him to leave a life free of addiction given such upbringing?

The author tells the sad story to lead into her critique of the closure of  Nuevo Dia. Specifically, she took issue with how the reason cited by HealthValue representative for the closure was, in summary, “that it was essentially premodern and its people irrational and untrustworthy.” Yet, when the author herself was asked to give her own account of the situation, she said “Life outside of it.” While the author did not mean to attach a negative label to the neighborhood the way the representative that she previously criticized did, I personally do not agree with how the author’s statement shifted the blame for Nuevo Dia’s failure from its own structure and operation to the people and lives it was supposed to heal.

I also see similarities among Nuevo Dia’s situation and Dixion’s writing on midwifery in Mexico. In both cases:

• There is distrust between the people and the government/ those in power. Those most affected by the issues are not included in discussions about new solutions (e.g. Meetings were attended by HealthValue-affliated people only).
• ‘New’ public health structure does little to account for the historical contexts of the neighborhood it serves and fails short of its goals as a result. The most prominent issue is overload/ long-wait time for patients.
• In response to government’s failure, people stood up to establish their own means of healing for themselves (e.g. midwifery in Mexico, Adela’s drug detoxification service). It’s also interesting how Adela herself was once a midwife. I wonder whether there are specific traits that make people more suitable to this type of work, or that this was a mere coincidence.

Lastly, I like how the author ended by recounting a comment she received from one of her speech. To the comment that perhaps public health officials have limits and will not be able to consider all aspects when designing programs, the author responded by emphasizing the importance of keep on trying. While I echo that emphasis on continuing effort, I want to expand by suggesting that the solution to such problem should not be solely public health experts’ responsibility. Perhaps an interdisciplinary approach that fosters collaboration among multiple fields such as public health, childcare/ education, economy, etc. may prove to be effective.