Living and Enmeshed Societies

“The processes that I have explored in this article, with Iraqw culture and society as my vantage point, may, I suggest, indicate that a certain not uncommon way of representing so-called ‘traditional’ or ‘tribal’ societies ought to be adjusted. These societies are not, and have never been, simply the passive victims of external modern forces ‘having an impact’ on them in more or less predictable ways. We are talking about living societies that consist of living and creative human beings, and which, like all societies, have mechanisms and procedures for coping with change in a manner which ensures cultural continuity” (Rekdal 1996: 382).

Thoughts on globalization, tradition, and modernity in Rekdal’s article on the Iraqw’s cultural ties to “Money, Milk, and Sorghum Beer.” How many times do we anthropologists have to remind ourselves that cultures are malleable? How many times do we anthropologists have to remind ourselves that everybody has agency? That being said, in cases where we anthropologists go out of their way to say that people are the makers of their own culture, we must also not forget the power dynamics at play that actually do move people against their will, or bind them to situations they cannot escape. These powers could be colonial, imperialist, oppressive forces, or even just acts of nature such as unforeseen natural disasters. Through small acts of resistance against these powers-that-be, culture is shaped, but that means that without these forces the culture afflicted would undoubtedly have found itself on a different path. We are all enmeshed in complex webs of interaction and while some communities may have coping strategies for change that “ensures cultural continuity,” these cultures are never isolated, and therefore they are not completely in charge of how their culture takes form. My conclusion for almost everything: humans are damn complicated.

References:
Rekdal, O.B. 1996. Money, Milk, and Sorghum Beer: Change and Continuity Among the Iraqw of Tanzania. Africa 66 (3), 367-385.

Unsettling Anthropology

“Where might we find Mino-bimaadiziwin, the Good Life, in the midst of chicken nuggets, fries, a text message, and a large pop that just slid around on the tray and spilled sticky liquid on the floor? In our existence of contemporary choices, convenience, and complications, it is not always easy to maintain and continue Anishinaabe knowledge and traditions” (Grover 2017: 72).

What do you think when you read this quote? Depending on what point of view you’re coming from, you might contemplate it differently. Oftentimes, anthropologists and journalists from western countries are too quick to market this as a sign of a disappearing culture. They are reaching for what I call a sort of appropriated nostalgia for a time that wasn’t even their own but that they believe Native cultures should still occupy. Modern day amenities in this way are seen to contradict tradition, as if the two cannot exist in the same time frame.

There is a huge problem with this mindset. Not only does it freeze cultures in an imaginary and romanticized past, but it also assists in the agenda of disappearing Native cultures from the contemporary world. Tuck and Yang (2012) state this as such, “Everything within a settler colonial society strains to destroy or assimilate the Native in order to disappear them from the land – this is how a society can have multiple simultaneous and conflicting messages about Indigenous peoples, such as all Indians are dead, located in faraway reservations, that contemporary Indigenous people are less indigenous than prior generations, and that all Americans are a ‘little bit Indian’” (pg. 9).

This, of course, is not where Grover, an Ojibwe woman from Minnesota, was going with this paragraph in her book Onigamiising. Her book is full of short essays on contemporary, every day lives of Anishinaabeg. She explains,

“I believe that we live in Mino-bimaadiziwin in ways similar to those of our ancestors: in everyday lives that are given to us by the Creator. The beginning of each day is an unopened gift, and as the day goes by, we acknowledge that by doing our best to live the values that have been passed down to use for generations: gratitude, modesty, generosity, and a consideration for others and the world around us. Living a good life is our gift back to the Creator; our daily contributions, big and small (this would include mopping up spilled pop), continue the tradition of Mino-bimaadziwin” (pgs. 72-73).

For western anthropologists (and journalists as well): how can we stop defining others and instead let them define themselves? How can we ‘unsettle’ anthropology and can it ever be used as a tool to assist projects of decolonization? (Unfamiliar with settler colonialism and/or decolonization? Check out these Tuck & Yang’s article, listed in references or read this article by Kyle Powys Whyte). I do believe anthropology has come a long way since the times of Malinowski or Mead but it must continue to change so that it doesn’t continue to perpetuate oppressive colonial agendas. I find myself often asking, is anthropology salvageable? Is this really the path I want to continue to take? What will a future equitable and ethical anthropology look like?

PS. I’m sure there are many anthropologists that are working towards a better, more moral anthropology. I hope to read more of their work in the future and continue posting about this topic! As a white anthropologist, I must continuously recognize my place in the dynamics of power within this academic field and within the societies/cultures I inhabit, and do my best to work against oppressive institutions that I undoubtedly benefit from.

References:
Grover, L.L. 2017. Onigamiising: Season of an Ojibwe Year. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Tuck, E. & Yang, K.W. 2012. Decolonization is not a metaphor. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society 1(1), pp. 1-40.
Whyte, K.P. 2018, April 3. White Allies, Let’s Be Honest About Decolonization. Yes Magazine. https://www.yesmagazine.org/issue/decolonize/2018/04/03/white-allies-lets-be-honest-about-decolonization/

Haunani-Kay Trask on the Interdependence of Cultural and Biological Diversity

“Unremittingly, the history of the modern period is the history of increasing conformity, paid for in genocide and ecocide. The more we are made to be the same, the more the environment we inhabit becomes the same: ‘backward’ people forced into a ‘modern’ (read ‘industrial’) context can no longer care for their environment. As the people are transformed, or more likely, exterminated, their environment is progressively degraded, parts of it destroyed forever. Physical despoliation is reflected in cultural degradation. A dead land is preceded by a dying people. As an example, indigenous languages replaced by ‘universal’ (read ‘colonial’) languages result in the creation of ‘dead languages.’ But what is ‘dead’ or ‘lost’ is not the language but the people who once spoke it and transmitted their mother tongue to succeeding generations. Lost, too, is the relationship between words and their physical referents. In Hawai’i, English is the dominant language, but it cannot begin to encompass the physical beauty of our islands in the unparalleled detail of the Hawaiian language. Nor can English reveal how we knew animals to be our family; how we harnessed the ocean’s rhythms, creating massive fishponds; how we came to know the migrations of deep-ocean fish and golden plovers from the Arctic; how we sailed from hemisphere to hemisphere with nothing but the stars to guide us. English is foreign to Hawai’i; it reveals nothing of our place where we were born, where our ancestors created knowledge now ‘lost’ to the past” (Trask 1993/1999: 59-60).

From Huanani-Kay Trask’s book From a Native Daughter: Colonialism and Sovereignty in Hawai’i. Beautifully written, heart wrenching, and informative, it addresses indigenous struggles in the Pacific and worldwide. Although written in 1993, sadly, 27 years later, it is still very much applicable today. How can make the world hear Trask’s words? How can we heed her warnings?

“The choice is clear. As indigenous peoples, we must fight for Papahānaumoku, even as she–and we–are dying. But where do people in the industrial countries draw their battle lines? On the side of mother earth? On the side of consumption? On the side of First World Nationalism? If human beings, Native and non-Native alike, are to create an alternative to the planned New World Order, then those who live in the First World must change their culture, not only their leaders. Who, then, bears the primary responsibility? Who carries the burden of obligation? Who will protect mother earth?” (Trask 1993/1999: 62).

References:
Trask, H. 1999 [1993]. From a Native Daughter: Colonialism and Sovereignty in Hawai’i. Revised Edition. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press.

Neologisms and The Power of Language

“I have come to understand that although place-words are being lost, they are also being created. Nature is dynamic, and so is language. Loanwords from Chinese, Urdu, Korean, Portuguese and Yiddish are right now being used to describe the landscapes of Britain and Ireland; portmanteaus and neologisms are constantly in manufacture. As I travelled I met new words as well as salvaging old ones: a painter in the Hebrides who used landskein to refer to the braid of blue horizon lines in hill country on a hazy day; a five-year-old girl who concocted honeyfur to describe the soft seeds of grassed held in the fingers” (Macfarlane 2015: 13-14).

Language, like nature and like culture, is part of a vast web. In this web, interconnected signs, indices and symbols interact to create a form of communication unique to our species. In a time where languages are constantly being lost due to processes of globalization, colonialism, environmental degradation, and simply the passing of time, it is important to realize that there are ways to create and honor the dynamic fluidity of language as well. Robert Macfarlane’s book Landmarks celebrates the collision of nature and language, and how these two aspects inform culture in the past, present and future.

The Bureau of Linguistical Reality also acknowledges the power of language. They invite people to create new words (neologisms) that define what it feels like to live in the present day. Change is all around us, with advancements in technology, changing climates, politics, economics, etc., and again, simply the passing of time, and as humans we are sometimes left with feelings that cannot be defined by our current vocabulary. Through the sometimes serious, sometimes playful act of creating new words, creators of the Bureau of Linguistical Reality, Heidi Quante and Alicia Escott, hope to facilitate conversations around climate change and a greater cultural shift taking place in our everyday lives.

References:

Macfarlane, R. 2015. Landmarks. London: Penguin Books.

Reflections on Gaelic Culture in the Hebrides

“The Hebrides had won a central place in European culture, but one tightly circumscribed by the defining characteristic of loss. The vitality of its Gaelic culture was subject to ignorance, indifference and prejudice. Its understanding of the relationship with land and place, and its culture of community, represented a profoundly different world view, and was pushed aside – or was actively suppressed – in a painful process of loss and conflict” (Bunting 2016: 128)

Madeline Bunting’s travel narrative set in the Hebrides (islands off of Scotland’s west coast, pronounced heb-rid-ees) explores not only the natural beauty of these seemingly remote islands, but also the intense romanticization, imperialism and cultural appropriation that has shaped the perception of them over the years. Bunting mixes history with her own feelings to understand her place and the place of her country within these Scottish isles in her book Love of Country.

This book is not an anthropological text, but rather more historical, philosophical and reflective. This does not mean that it is not useful to anthropologists. Travel narratives have been used by many anthropologists to contemplate perception. A good example of this is Julie Cruikshank’s Do Glaciers Listen, where she contrasts colonial explorers’ narratives to indigenous ones, emphasizing the different ways in which nature is perceived.

The quote above is placed among a larger discussion of 18th century Scotland and its relationship to Britain as a whole. What happened to the Gaels in Scotland mirrors what happened to many groups of people worldwide. At worst, Gaels were suppressed, seen as barbaric, evicted from their land, and at times killed because of the culture they followed. At best they were ignored. However, while the rest of Britain looked down on their northern compatriots, they deeply admired the landscapes in which they lived. Today, Bunting explains, Scotland continues to be romantically marketed to tourists as a sublime travel destination, wild and uninhabited. This perception of Scotland is reminiscent of the 18th century ignorance of the people who live in these places: “The Romanitc tourist’s gaze represented a cultural disruption; it ignored or averted its eyes form the impoverished inhabitants to celebrate the beauty of the natural forms” (Bunting 2016: 125).

In fact, today many of these islands are largely uninhabited, or at least hold very scarce populations, but only seeing the beauty of the landscape and ignoring the harsh history that has rendered them uninhabited is a sure mark of an ignorant tourist. In her chapter on the island Rum, Bunting explains what has become known as ‘the Clearances,’ or the forceful evictions of the Hebridean inhabitants in the early 1800’s.

Bunting does a great job at portraying both the beautiful and the ugly dimensions of travel in the Hebrides. She contemplates her own role in visiting these islands: “I recognize Romanticism’s erasure of the Gaelic past, but find myself caught still within its tradition. I appreciate how it has inspired me to begin the search for place, but increasingly acknowledge that it is a deceptive guide” (Bunting 2016: 129). Although not a text inspired by anthropological theory and thought, it definitely reminisces on important anthropological ideas.

A bleary yet lovely morning in Kinloch Rannoch, a small town in the Highlands of Scotland.

References:

Bunting, M. 2016. Love of Country: A Hebridean Journey. London, UK: Granta.

Cruikshank, J. 2005. Do Glaciers Listen? Local Knowledge, Colonial Encounters, and Social Imagination. Vancouver, BC: UBC Press

Vine Deloria Jr. on the Old Ways

“Even on the most traditional reservations, the erosion of the old ways is so profound that many people are willing to cast aside ceremonies that stood them in good stead for thousands of years and live in increasing and meaningless secularity. The consumer society is indeed consuming everything in its path. It is fair to say that the overwhelming majority of Indian people today have little understanding or remembrance of the powers once possessed by the spiritual leaders of their communities. What we do today is often simply a ‘walk-through’ of a once-potent ceremony that now has little visible effect on the participants” (Deloria 20016: xvii-xviii).

Vine Deloria was an advocate for Native American spirituality, and in his final book, The World We Used to Live In, he compiles stories that aim to show the power of the spiritual world and our human connection to it. Change in the form of colonialism, globalization, modernity and climate change have affected all societies on the globe, for good or bad, and here in this quote and the rest of his book, Deloria aims to present the past in order that we might understand what we are in danger of losing, or have already lost. He explores stories from a world different from Western society to illustrate the importance of accepting and valuing alternative ways of life.

References:

Deloria, V. Jr. 2006. The World We Used to Live In: Remembering the Powers of the Medicine Man. Golden, CO: Fulcrum Publishing.