Research that matters

Savannah Shange’s “Progressive Dystopia: Abolition, Antiblackness, and Schooling in San Francisco” explores how educational policies in San Francisco that aim to improve racist teaching practices exacerbate the issue. She explains how the city’s progressive approach fails to address the root issues and paints a picture of how true anti-racist educational practices look. As someone who grew up near SF, it was really interesting to read about her analysis. Typically, the SF city government praises itself as a progressive and anti-racist system, so focusing on its policies’ deficiencies was important for me to read. One question I found myself asking was, “What would it take for SF governments to find fault in their policies and how should they go about finding reliable people to speak on the people of color experience within their communities?”

I enjoyed reflecting on the theme of care in Delivering Health: Midwifery and Development in Mexico. I think something to take away from this reading is that it is important to expand the way we think about care. Systems of care are diverse and can exist in unconventional forms. They should not be confined to the biomedical context. Although this reading mainly focuses on maternal health, it is widely applicable to all forms of healthcare and non-health related care. This reading highlights three main aspects of care. First, there is more than one way to care for someone, and any “non-mainstream” forms of care can be equally as valuable as mainstream forms of care. Second, trust finds itself at the center of care. This is something I had never really considered but, as Dixon presented it in terms of health care and the patient-provider relationship, made so much sense. It makes sense outside of healthcare as well. When we need care, we tend to be vulnerable. Thus, we need that sense of trust to receive care from another person when we are in that vulnerable state. Third, people need agency in order to successfully participate in systems of care. Obviously there are extreme cases in which this wouldn’t apply. An unconscious person could not make a decision for themselves. But thinking in terms of chronic illnesses, people need to feel in control of their lives. They need to be able to make their own choices regarding their well-being. I think that tackling these three things will be important for any future improvements related to care. I think that normalizing and making unconventional systems of care more accessible is an easier task to tackle. But how can increasing trust and personal agency (things that I believe can look very unique from person to person) be accomplished by such large scale organizations, such as national governments, that deal with public health care?

Methodologically, I thought Dixon did a great job of utilizing an interdisciplinary approach to her ethnography. In the introduction, I loved how Dixon took the time to differentiate her work from relevant literature, such as the work of Rosalynn A. Vega, by highlighting similarities and differences. I also liked how she shared her rationale for not including patient interviews to maintain a narrow focus on midwives, schooling, and their interactions with broader systems. These two minute details stood out to me as they reinforced her position and lens. In Chapter 3, I liked how she used Irma’s anecdote to exemplify infrastructural violence. This allowed this abstract concept to have a personal element, which invokes sympathy and compassion in readers. Consistently, Dixon utilizes this strategy to illustrate the infrastructural violence present in Mexico’s maternity care by highlighting the stories and anecdotes of midwives.
In regards to content, I found this reading to be very interesting. I love how she explores the intersection of self and system in a myriad of capacities. As someone who is not familiar with healthcare in Mexico, she provides enough historical context to allow the reader to understand her argument and her ethnographical work. She also draws on similarities (such as Black women and babies’ health outcomes in the United States) to spark thought on her larger concept of infrastructural violence but also to draw readers into her illustration of this concept in Mexico. All in all, I really thought this ethnography was profound.

An aspect of Chapter 3 which I found quite interesting was Lydia Dixon’s identification of infrastructure as a limiting and discriminating factor for widespread healthcare access in Mexico. Although Mexican programs such as Seguro Popular increased “access” to healthcare for a large portion of the population previously uncovered, the possession of a healthcare program in rural/underserved areas does not guarantee that care services can tangibly be reached. As this ethnography focuses on midwifery, Dixon explains how programs like Seguro Popular “conditioned” women to choose hospitals rather than local midwives. By pressuring pregnant women to utilize the facilities with which they were granted, hospitals then faced issues of overcrowding which led to poor conditions, understaffing, or even rejection of care. The lack of adequate infrastructure for patients to reach, and for doctors to provide, adequate healthcare led Dixon to coin the term “infrastructural violence” to explain barriers to labor care.

The most intriguing piece to me was Dixon’s distinction between active and passive infrastructural violence. Active violence could be the construction of delivery rooms without enough space for a partner to be present during birth, whereas passive violence could be poor roads leading from a rural community to healthcare centers. Whichever form of violence, or combination of forms, is present, what results is an inequitable distribution of healthcare services, discriminating against Indigenous, rural, and/or poorer communities based on race or economic status.

I find it interesting that Thomas intent was originally to not write about violence. In an effort to work in opposition to prominent narratives around Jamaica and the people who live there, she focused greatly on things outside of violence, particularly art, politics, and community action. But it is difficult to avoid topics like violence which shape so much of the everyday life anthropologists such as herself are tasked with studying. I understand the desire to combat stereotypes and focus on good. Reading this introduction I thought about the ways in which trauma and violence become the only stories ever heard about marginalized identities. Often, those are the popular stories heard by outsiders. So to decenter violence almost becomes a protest. This though, must not come at the cost of the truth of a community and what the people experience. It is with this in mind that Thomas begins to lay out the ways in which violence in Jamaica affects politics and citizenship.

She also argues that the framework of reparations should be applied the knowledge formation, specifically the kind that anthropologists engage. In this, I believe she draws on some of the ideas around abolitionist anthropology, which asks anthropologists to reject the general structure of anthropological work in order to dismantle the white supremacist and imperial nature of the discipline. I believe this claim for a new framework can be seen as the genesis of that which can replace traditional anthropology. It is one that acknowledges structural insecurities and works towards a more accurate, ethical, and embodied “cultural” analysis.

The first thing that caught my eye in the introduction was the way Dr. Carwil Bjork-James framed his context. The way he was able to capture the historical transition in the environment of the city was especially effective to me because I was truly able to characterize the city in its details. As the book details documents of revolution among the people, I thought the way he described aspects of the city that have/will change was interesting because they were connected to the people, whether it be about the stalls that vendor women sell drinks or the celebrations that used to take place in La Paz.

I also thought it was interesting how Dr. Bjork-James included smaller accounts with people who he didn’t necessarily seek but those who had sought him out. He was able to intertwine these accounts in a way that contextualizes the introduction in the very essence of ethnography that I am still learning about. He also included the full process of his research from the very beginning of discovering Bolivia’s political revolution to his personal witness there. I learned that narrative style writing can be extremely effective in portraying research realistically while drawing on the human experience. Although many may think this is not as credible when compared to statistics or plain text, I think there is a true importance in understanding there is power when presenting research/ethnography in its natural context alongside emotion and relationships. This inspired me to take these details into my own project when accounting my own ethnography for the final paper.

Dr. Bjork-James begins chapter 5 by discussing the implications of race and space in Bolivia. I think often space and race aren’t considered as contributing aspects of resistance that amplify each other. Race and space are intrinsically connected, especially in these urban spaces, where the racial makeup of an area directly contributes to the ways in which people are allowed to move through that space. Furthermore, to take up physical space, to resist the overall racial makeup of a city that has historically been oppositional to indigenous people by residing there even if temporarily, is a form of radical resistance. In places like La Paz, Oruro, and Huanuni racial segregation was legally enforced in the past (150). The public sphere is a racially charged space where the social norms that relegate oppressed people to the margins of society physically manifest themselves. As such, when a crowd of peasants enters the plaza during the 1952 Revolution, becomes one of the biggest tools in the fight for indigenous campesinos who “unmade their status as feudal serfs” (156). 

I think this commentary also goes to help readers understand the social body of indigenous people in Bolivia. This scripted understanding of indigenous people as below mestizos and creoles, as servants, as those who do not belong in certain areas of the city all shape a body of an indigenous person that is read by all in Bolivian society as lesser than others. Nirmal Puwar states that there are “specific bodies have been constructed out of the imagination of authority” and it is in opposition to this somatic norm that the indigenous body is then created out of. Without the power to shape their own perceptions of self, indigenous people lose the autonomy to create their own narratives. In order to take power, it is necessary for them to take up space, protest, and resist in any way they know how. 

I found Dr. Bjork-James focus on the common spaces and practices created through social movements interesting. Focusing on common spaces enables him to see how race and class affect social movement mobilization and decision making. He explores questions such as the extent to which these common spaces facilitate collective decision making. He also discusses how Bolivia’s social movements have high participation compared to other countries. I am curious as to why Bolivia’s social movements elicit such a strong public reaction in comparison to political unrest in other countries.

One thing I found interesting is Dr. Bjork-James’ discussion of his positionality as an ethnographer conducting this research in Bolivia in the introduction. He writes, “I became aware of the relevance of my Blackness to my ethnographic work. I could not fail to see the parallels between the backlash against Bolivia’s indigenous-led political movements and the repeated attempts to violently silence African Americans in moments of struggle” (18). His identity and lived experiences allows him to observe and analyze racial dimension of the political unrest in Bolivia in a deeper way. I think his discussion of positionality connects to research ethics. He discloses his relationship to his research topic and explains how his racial identity and lived experiences affect and strengthen his research. Readers should interpret ethnographic findings while taking into account the researcher’s positionality.

Dr. Carwil Bjork-James, in The Sovereign Street: Making Revolution in Urban Bolivia, highlights several protest movements in Bolivia. He considers how physical space impacts movements and forces conversations. Similarly, I was particularly intrigued in how he placed the Bolivian protests in a global context. From discussing neoliberal theory to differences between cultural responses (in the US and Bolivia), I found the content of his work to be very interesting. (I also love how he gave cultural context behind some light-hearted moments, such as, fighting someone from Chile with the meat vs Chuño joke) However, I found the methodology of the ethnography to be super interesting. Dr. Carwil Bjork-James recognizes the distrust Bolivians may have towards him due to America granting asylum to controversial figures, but he is able to pull on his experiences protesting for the same causes they are protesting for just abroad. This builds rapport with the informant, and the Bolivian protester can open up with a sympathizer. I thought it was a very strategic way to develop trust. Similarly, I liked that Dr. Carwil Bjork- James would include his own perspective and reaction given his own experience protesting and his own positioning. Particularly, I found his comparison of how traffic alters due to protests in Bolivia and the almost lack thereof in the United States to be insightful. (Since he acknowledges that he is one of the first to cover the protests in English, I think it was strategic to make comparisons to the United States to help with comprehension.) All in all, I found this ethnography to be very interesting!

After reading The Sovereign Street: Making Revolution in Urban Bolivia, a major theme that I engaged the most with was the relationship between social roles, landscapes, and the capacity for protest actions. The ingenuity of the Bolivian people within urban areas allows them to adapt to and embrace the space around them, resulting in blockages in the city and protests on the streets. By determining “meaning-laden spaces (whose meaning is part of the racial and political geography of the city),” grassroots activists enact practical and symbolic control, amplifying their impact and sending a message to the government that is difficult to ignore (11). Before reading this book, I was not very familiar with Bolivian social movements, so by following Dr. Carwil Bjork-James’ methods, I quickly came to realize how they achieved their title as “the Latin American country with the highest level of protest participation” (24). Furthermore, based on our class discussions of ethnographic techniques, I was able to connect their practices of political action to the field work required to engage with and comment on the peoples’ efforts (24). I had not thought about how such movements are enacted, so it was useful to read the author’s discussion of why alliances must be made to shut down a city, as one organization alone is often not sufficient. Logistically, “transport workers were the only sector to mount a paralyzing mobilization on their own” because of their access to “other people’s circulation network” (99). From my background in wildlife conservation research and advocacy, I value the interdisciplinary efforts required to promote “mass participation” and maintain the connections necessary to attract attention to an important issue (99).

I also want to address the author’s commentary on racialized and gendered politics in Bolivia that exclude people from positions of power. Whereas, “Specific bodies have been constructed out of the imagination of authority,” it is striking when “no-longer-subordinate people enter the exclusive space or take on the forbidden role. Transgression of boundaries arouses powerful emotions, which can include fear, anxiety, disorientation, and revulsion” (153). This way, not only the peoples’ message, but the number of participants and demographic of “out-of-place bodies” must be “amplified in importance.. to [effectively] threaten the structure of division altogether” (153).

One aspect I noticed right away was that Thomas highlights the powerful nature of ethnography in her storytelling at the beginning of the chapter. As she recounts two of many incidents involving gun violence and civilians, Thomas is able to vividly capture the narratives which helps to highlight the importance of her work. This reminded me of why ethnography is important because of the way it captures the rawness of individual stories in accuracy and realism.

I also think the way Thomas stems the “culture of violence” that characterizes Jamaican society from the “culture of poverty.” In this perspective, she is able to contextualize violence historically and socially, assuming a lens of decisions but also lack of individual choice. Thomas considers the idea of culturalism when approaching inequality as she examines this “culture of poverty.” This is interesting because it helps to pan her research across a variety of groups which I believe is how she is able to draw into African American populations. The result is a transnational project that is able to connect and observe a multitude of relations and diasporic populations and communities. It is fascinating how Thomas spans her scope from a seemingly small and specific population to an idea that impacts “a worldwide black community.”

Immediately, I am compelled by Thomas’ stylistic choices within her writing as well as the framework she has decided to adopt for her research. She herself states that “using reparations as a framework for thinking about contemporary problems also requires that we focus on structural, rather than cultural, lineages and inheritances,” which I think is an incredibly interesting approach that can lead to some significant findings (Thomas, 2011: 6). Focusing on the structure is what allows for emphasis on the historical, as she mentions, and culminates in a quote that really stuck out to me while reading: “the historical thus becomes both analytic category and method, a way to parse the place of the past and present” (2011: 11). This immediately reminded me of something that was discussed in a class I had taken last semester about race in the Americas; the historical and colonial significance of identity making cannot go overlooked, but often does. Both Michel-Rolph Trouillot, who was referenced in this reading, and Patrick Wolfe reference the power and significance of history as it pertains to the present plight of racial minority groups. When we understand that “the production of historical narratives involves the uneven contribution of competing groups and individuals who have unequal access to the means of such production” (Trouillot) and also how “invasion [read: colonialism/settler colonialism] is recognized as a structure rather than an event, its history does not stop” (Wolfe, 2006: 402), then we can fully absorb the situation of societies who were gravely affected by colonialism and the slave trade. Thus, I appreciate Thomas’ approach to her work so that it does not neglect the historical constructions and structures that shape contemporary environments, finally removing the assertion that the observed violence is something inevitable and passive as it is embedded into the area’s “culture.” I cannot help but wonder, however, how much this perspective would shift if this “culture” was also recognized as an event: something that is ever-changing and never at all passive. If the concept is considered in this manner, then how does structure work in tandem to create our modern settings? Is such a thing worth thinking about in this context?

Thomas’s work really stood out to me and I loved how she built such a strong foundation in her ethnography by considering so much history, many social factors, and the role that violence so often has to play in anthropological work. I think that her piece, as an ethnography, juxtaposes Shange’s in the fact that it goes very in-depth into the potential foundational causes of what she observed in her ethnography. Shange’s piece, in my opinion, did a great job creating a thesis around what she saw at Robeson, and remained very grounded and contained in her findings there. The larger social implications of Shange’s findings felt more implied because her work was so grounded in the setting, and we discussed in class how Shange’s piece is written with a bit of an expectation of knowledge of the school-to-prison pipeline and San Francisco’s problematic, segregated history. Contrastingly, Thomas lays a lot of foundation before delving into her ethnography, which shows the differences in the substance and purposes of these ethnographies. However, at the same time, both of these ethnographies show how circuits and systems of power and oppression affect societies today. These similarities and differences really stuck with me in the reading this week. I think these are both examples of excellent ethnographies that grapple with incredibly important topics. I am curious – what differences were there in the intended audiences of these two ethnographies? I also wonder why Thomas wanted to include so much background in her Introduction before jumping into the book, as she addresses history again in the midst of Chapter 2 when describing the perceived “culture of violence” and discrimination towards Jamaicans because of this.

Overall, Thomas does a great job of positioning the research in a broader systemic context. Thomas considers the systematic causes of violence in Jamaica, such as neoliberalism, slavery, and other historical factors. While I do like her positioning of violence within larger systems, I was more impressed with how she positions her work in the broader context of Anthropology. She not only considers the research trends of violence and elaborates where hers fits in, but she, more broadly, acknowledges the historical implications of studying culture and differentiates her work as a study of systems. Rather than studying culture, and in this case violence, as a means of comparison, Anthropology, she argues, needs to take into account these broader systems of history, politics/economics, and practice. In Chapter 2, Thomas situates the imposition of heteropatriarchal households in the historical situation of colonialism. She discusses the faults in studying the “culture of violence,” which is rooted in the also faulty study of the “culture of poverty.” Both of these works fail to account for the systematic issues that lead to these outcomes. All in all, I loved how she considered not only her own position but also that of her works and took a new approach to ethnography that we have yet to see.

One piece of Thomas’ approach to this ethnography that struck me as interesting was her position of authority on the topic due to her background. She lived in Jamacia before and comes from a Jamaican background, meaning that she holds some understanding of Jamaican cultural customs and social relations. She also expresses early on in the introduction how she holds a connection to Jamaican dancers through her background in dance, and how those same Jamaican dancers used their art as a means to advocate for sociopolitical change. As Thomas explores violence in Jamaica through her ethnography, a sociopolitical issue, having prior connections with these cultural politics allow her to more accurately understand and convey the results of her ethnographic research. This background also provides a clear pathway for participant observation, granting Thomas diverse perspectives in her research without the typical barriers that an ethnographer deemed an “outsider” would face.

Out of both readings, I was most drawn to Bernard’s section on response rate. Bernard advocates for Dillman’s method when mailing a research survey in the United States. I found the steps in his method fascinating, as details down to the color of paper were discussed – apparently light green paper is more likely to trigger a response than white paper. I had not thought about the implications of what you put on a survey cover, but it makes sense that graphic designs are more likely to produce the intended effect than a picture because of the amount of information and possible distractions in such an image. I was also sure to take notes about question order, as I did not realize how seemingly innocuous questions like age and occupation could deter someone from starting a survey; to prevent this, demographic questions should be at the end, simple questions should be at the beginning, and “threatening questions” should be in the middle, toward the end, and dispersed from each other. Commentary on if and how much money should be offered to participants also fascinated me. I would assume that more money would mean greater response rates, but Dillman reported that offering $1 was most effective (in the 1980’s) because anything more than that made potential participants feel like it was an economic interaction which deterred them from participating.