Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888850
Shamara Wyllie Alhassan
Using archival, ethnographic, and oral historical sources in her first full-length manuscript, Monique Bedasse writes a compelling intellectual and political history of Rastafari repatriation and Pan-Africanism during the post-independence period of the late twentieth century in the Caribbean, Africa, and Europe. Bedasse’s subjectivity as a child of Rastafari parents and her training as a historian gave her unique access “to fiercely protected Rastafarian archives” (xiii) and allowed her to write an interior historical narrative that merits the linguistic and philosophical contributions of Rastafari. More than a peripheral, millenarian, escapist, or solely cultural movement, Bedasse positions Rastafari as central to Black radical ideas and Pan-African anti-colonial politics in the Caribbean and Africa. The intellectual contributions of Rastafari people open avenues of inquiry beyond popular culture. “Rastafari dynamic and ever-poignant critiques of racism and capitalism throughout the 1970s and beyond have been concealed by the focus on Rastafari as popular culture” (188). Engaging Rastafari people and not simply cultural products reveals their centrality to the development of decolonial Pan-African ideas as policy. While this is the broad focus of Bedasse’s book, her interventions critiquing the masculine characterization of repatriation and her choice to foreground the disruptive narrative of a Rastafari woman’s memories illuminates the intersectional nature of repatriation. Bedasse’s book comprises six thematic chapters that tell interwoven histories between Jamaica, England, and Tanzania. Her choice showcases the intertwined nature of African and Diasporan histories. Bedasse leverages multiple written archives in at least five different countries and draws upon embodied archives of Rastafari people. In so doing, she reveals the extensive networks between global Black radicalism and Rastafari repatriates as she chooses to allow their oral histories to drive her methodological choices in the field and in writing. Bedasse begins her book outlining the conceptual notion of “trodding diaspora,” serving as a model for thinking through multi-sited ethnographies between Africa and the Diaspora. The Rastafari term “trod” means to travel physically or metaphysically. Bedasse theorizes movement in terms of the physical repatriation and the mental return to an imagined “Africa.” There are four overarching ideas of trodding diaspora: First, Bedasse likens “trodding” to the physical and spiritual movement that allows Rastafari to build Jah Kingdom beyond national boundaries and imagine freedom beyond achievement of political independence. Much of Rastafari Studies is preoccupiedwith Rastafari repatriation to the nation-state of Ethiopia; however, Bedasse underscores the political, spiritual, and social importance of repatriation to Tanzania. Second, Bedasse defies scholarly attempts to separate research on Africa from
{"title":"Jah Kingdom: Rastafarians, Tanzania, and Pan-Africanism in the Age of Decolonization","authors":"Shamara Wyllie Alhassan","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888850","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888850","url":null,"abstract":"Using archival, ethnographic, and oral historical sources in her first full-length manuscript, Monique Bedasse writes a compelling intellectual and political history of Rastafari repatriation and Pan-Africanism during the post-independence period of the late twentieth century in the Caribbean, Africa, and Europe. Bedasse’s subjectivity as a child of Rastafari parents and her training as a historian gave her unique access “to fiercely protected Rastafarian archives” (xiii) and allowed her to write an interior historical narrative that merits the linguistic and philosophical contributions of Rastafari. More than a peripheral, millenarian, escapist, or solely cultural movement, Bedasse positions Rastafari as central to Black radical ideas and Pan-African anti-colonial politics in the Caribbean and Africa. The intellectual contributions of Rastafari people open avenues of inquiry beyond popular culture. “Rastafari dynamic and ever-poignant critiques of racism and capitalism throughout the 1970s and beyond have been concealed by the focus on Rastafari as popular culture” (188). Engaging Rastafari people and not simply cultural products reveals their centrality to the development of decolonial Pan-African ideas as policy. While this is the broad focus of Bedasse’s book, her interventions critiquing the masculine characterization of repatriation and her choice to foreground the disruptive narrative of a Rastafari woman’s memories illuminates the intersectional nature of repatriation. Bedasse’s book comprises six thematic chapters that tell interwoven histories between Jamaica, England, and Tanzania. Her choice showcases the intertwined nature of African and Diasporan histories. Bedasse leverages multiple written archives in at least five different countries and draws upon embodied archives of Rastafari people. In so doing, she reveals the extensive networks between global Black radicalism and Rastafari repatriates as she chooses to allow their oral histories to drive her methodological choices in the field and in writing. Bedasse begins her book outlining the conceptual notion of “trodding diaspora,” serving as a model for thinking through multi-sited ethnographies between Africa and the Diaspora. The Rastafari term “trod” means to travel physically or metaphysically. Bedasse theorizes movement in terms of the physical repatriation and the mental return to an imagined “Africa.” There are four overarching ideas of trodding diaspora: First, Bedasse likens “trodding” to the physical and spiritual movement that allows Rastafari to build Jah Kingdom beyond national boundaries and imagine freedom beyond achievement of political independence. Much of Rastafari Studies is preoccupiedwith Rastafari repatriation to the nation-state of Ethiopia; however, Bedasse underscores the political, spiritual, and social importance of repatriation to Tanzania. Second, Bedasse defies scholarly attempts to separate research on Africa from","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":" ","pages":"75 - 78"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888850","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44027776","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888640
P. Taylor
An abolitionist pamphlet published in Britain in 1816 in the wake of Barbados’ Easter Rebellion attacked the follies of the Barbadian plantocracy, referring to “a ridiculous account which appeared in the newspapers, that a Haytian fleet had been seen steering towards Barbadoes at the time the insurrection broke out.” While the Barbadian plantocracy feared the idea of humanity that a newly independent Haiti represented, both planters and abolitionists discounted rebel agency by blaming each other for the rebellion. In contrast, Barbadian rebels, writes Hilary Beckles, saw themselves as the “final catalyst” inaugurating the new social order and embraced the freedom that ushered in the new nation of Haiti in 1804. Apprehended and interrogated following the rebellion, Cuffee Ned stated that Mingo was the name by which he knew the island of “Saint Domingo” (Saint-Domingue), the one island in the West Indies where enslaved Africans were free because, in his words, “they had fought for it and got it.” There are few references to the cultural and religious activities of the rebels in the Barbados House of Assembly’s Report on the rebellion from which Cuffee Ned’s statement is taken. However, two decades after the rebellion pseudonymous English author Theodore Easel wrote a short story about the rebellion depicting a rebel leader named Mingo as an Obeahman. In “The ObiahMan, or a Tale of St. Phillip’s,” one of various scattered portraits in the book Desultory Sketches and Tales of Barbados, Easel places Mingo at the center of the rebellion, portraying him as a cunning, yet deluded spiritual leader. Interestingly, Mingo was also the name of one of the leaders of the rebellion, as identified in the so-called confession of Robert, of Simmons Plantation, in the Assembly’s Report. Although Easel does not mention Haiti or Saint-Domingue directly, by identifying Obeah with the demonic he locates the term in a discursive relationship with Vodou (or so called “voodoo”), that supposed force of evil invented by the colonial imaginary and constantly identified by the West with the “black peril” that was Haiti. As Edward Brathwaite has argued, however, the Obeahman was “doctor, philosopher, and priest.” Tracing the etymology and usage of the term “Obeah” back to African linguistic sources, Handler and Bilby demonstrate that the term is best understood in the context of slave society in a positive rather than a negative sense:
1816年巴巴多斯复活节起义后，英国出版了一本废奴主义小册子，抨击巴巴多斯植物统治的愚蠢行为，提到“报纸上出现的一个荒谬的说法，即起义爆发时，有人看到一支海伊舰队驶向巴巴多斯。“虽然巴巴多斯的种植园主政权害怕新独立的海地所代表的人性观念，但种植园主和废奴主义者都对叛乱机构不屑一顾，相互指责对方应为叛乱负责。相比之下，希拉里·贝克尔斯（Hilary Beckles）写道，巴巴多斯叛军将自己视为开启新社会秩序的“最后催化剂”，并拥抱1804年海地新国家的自由。Cuffee Ned在叛乱后受到逮捕和审问，他说明戈是他所知道的“圣多明各”岛的名字，这是西印度群岛被奴役的非洲人获得自由的一个岛屿，用他的话说，“他们为之而战，并得到了它。”在巴巴多斯议会关于叛乱的报告中，几乎没有提到反叛分子的文化和宗教活动，库菲·内德的声明就是从这份报告中摘录的。然而，在叛乱20年后，化名的英国作家西奥多·伊塞尔写了一篇关于叛乱的短篇小说，将一位名叫明戈的叛军领袖描绘成一名奥拜曼人。在《巴巴多斯的脱硫素描和故事》一书中各种零散的肖像之一《奥比亚人》（The ObiahMan，or a Tale of St.Phillip’s）中，伊塞尔将明戈置于叛乱的中心，将他描绘成一个狡猾但被欺骗的精神领袖。有趣的是，明戈也是叛乱领导人之一的名字，正如议会报告中西蒙斯种植园的罗伯特所谓的供词所述。尽管Easel没有直接提到海地或圣多明各，但通过将Obeah与魔鬼联系起来，他将这个词定位为与Vodou（或所谓的“voodoo”）的话语关系，Vodou是殖民想象中发明的所谓邪恶力量，西方不断将其与海地的“黑危险”联系起来。然而，正如Edward Brathwaite所说，Obeahman是“医生、哲学家和牧师”。Handler和Bilby将“Obeah”一词的词源和用法追溯到非洲语言来源，证明了这个词最好在奴隶社会的背景下从积极而非消极的意义来理解：
{"title":"The Mobility of the Haitian Revolution","authors":"P. Taylor","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888640","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888640","url":null,"abstract":"An abolitionist pamphlet published in Britain in 1816 in the wake of Barbados’ Easter Rebellion attacked the follies of the Barbadian plantocracy, referring to “a ridiculous account which appeared in the newspapers, that a Haytian fleet had been seen steering towards Barbadoes at the time the insurrection broke out.” While the Barbadian plantocracy feared the idea of humanity that a newly independent Haiti represented, both planters and abolitionists discounted rebel agency by blaming each other for the rebellion. In contrast, Barbadian rebels, writes Hilary Beckles, saw themselves as the “final catalyst” inaugurating the new social order and embraced the freedom that ushered in the new nation of Haiti in 1804. Apprehended and interrogated following the rebellion, Cuffee Ned stated that Mingo was the name by which he knew the island of “Saint Domingo” (Saint-Domingue), the one island in the West Indies where enslaved Africans were free because, in his words, “they had fought for it and got it.” There are few references to the cultural and religious activities of the rebels in the Barbados House of Assembly’s Report on the rebellion from which Cuffee Ned’s statement is taken. However, two decades after the rebellion pseudonymous English author Theodore Easel wrote a short story about the rebellion depicting a rebel leader named Mingo as an Obeahman. In “The ObiahMan, or a Tale of St. Phillip’s,” one of various scattered portraits in the book Desultory Sketches and Tales of Barbados, Easel places Mingo at the center of the rebellion, portraying him as a cunning, yet deluded spiritual leader. Interestingly, Mingo was also the name of one of the leaders of the rebellion, as identified in the so-called confession of Robert, of Simmons Plantation, in the Assembly’s Report. Although Easel does not mention Haiti or Saint-Domingue directly, by identifying Obeah with the demonic he locates the term in a discursive relationship with Vodou (or so called “voodoo”), that supposed force of evil invented by the colonial imaginary and constantly identified by the West with the “black peril” that was Haiti. As Edward Brathwaite has argued, however, the Obeahman was “doctor, philosopher, and priest.” Tracing the etymology and usage of the term “Obeah” back to African linguistic sources, Handler and Bilby demonstrate that the term is best understood in the context of slave society in a positive rather than a negative sense:","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"2009 30","pages":"11 - 22"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888640","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41262491","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888683
Marsha Jean-Charles
I n contemporary United States of America, Black people live with the threat of death. Criminalized, over-policed, and mired in systemic oppression, two institutions causing continuous harm and collateral consequences are the system of mass incarceration—and the state apparati created to funnel people into it—and the immigration system, built to detain and deport people fleeing countries in which the conditions are a byproduct of neoliberal politics and American imperialism. To create a more just world, we must abolish the twin systems and create better ones in their place. Creating an anti-racist immigration system is integral to accessing true freedom in the United States; it is the first step to making the American Dream possible for all. When we view the migration of marginalized peoples both as a refutation of social and financial death as well as rejection of forced family separation, we can see an articulation of a decoloniality of migration. This paper examines this theme using first the history and trajectory of the criminalizing of immigration as developed by legal scholars. Second, it examines the ways this issue is expressed by writer Ibi Zoboi whose American Street directly describes the ways the American Dream become a nightmare when the dreamer is a Black Haitian girl. In conclusion, it connects to contemporary social justice demands for divestment and points to some of what is needed so as to create an anti-racist immigration system within which marginalized peoples can thrive and continue to make America what it need become so as to fulfill the dreams of the subjugated.
{"title":"Decolonial Migration, Crimmigration, and the American Dream Nightmare in Ibi Zoboi’s Spirit Worlds","authors":"Marsha Jean-Charles","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888683","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888683","url":null,"abstract":"I n contemporary United States of America, Black people live with the threat of death. Criminalized, over-policed, and mired in systemic oppression, two institutions causing continuous harm and collateral consequences are the system of mass incarceration—and the state apparati created to funnel people into it—and the immigration system, built to detain and deport people fleeing countries in which the conditions are a byproduct of neoliberal politics and American imperialism. To create a more just world, we must abolish the twin systems and create better ones in their place. Creating an anti-racist immigration system is integral to accessing true freedom in the United States; it is the first step to making the American Dream possible for all. When we view the migration of marginalized peoples both as a refutation of social and financial death as well as rejection of forced family separation, we can see an articulation of a decoloniality of migration. This paper examines this theme using first the history and trajectory of the criminalizing of immigration as developed by legal scholars. Second, it examines the ways this issue is expressed by writer Ibi Zoboi whose American Street directly describes the ways the American Dream become a nightmare when the dreamer is a Black Haitian girl. In conclusion, it connects to contemporary social justice demands for divestment and points to some of what is needed so as to create an anti-racist immigration system within which marginalized peoples can thrive and continue to make America what it need become so as to fulfill the dreams of the subjugated.","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"51 1","pages":"40 - 50"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888683","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41820225","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888676
E. Erickson
Over the years, health in the Caribbean has been affected by economic instability and lack of resources. Thus, making sustainability of our Caribbean nations extremely challenging. Cuba’s ideology after the revolution of 1959 focuses on the idea that healthcare should be accessible to all. It provides free healthcare to its citizens and delivers health care around the world. The late Fidel Castro often referred to Cuban physicians as an “army of white coats” in solidarity, providing healthcare to less fortunate countries around the world. Despite its political embargo, Cuba expanded its bioengineering research and eradicated infectious diseases that continue to cause illness and affect several countries today. Among them poliomyelitis was eradicated in Cuba in 1962, neonatal tetanus and diphtheria in the 1970s, and most recently measles, pertussis, mumps, and rubella in the 1990s. As a medical student in Cuba, I saw firsthand how Cuba conducted malaria screening with its international students. A practice that protected international students and Cuban citizens alike. The Cuban Medical system is directed by the Ministry of Public Health. It consists of primary, secondary, and tertiary care levels. Primary care starts at the primary care clinics, or consultorios, made up of one family doctor and one nurse. This medical team provides patient care to approximately 1,000 to 1,500 patients. They see patients in the clinic in the morning hours while the afternoons are dedicated to house visits, pedagogical responsibilities, administrative duties, or epidemiological work. The focus of the epidemiological work is to target issues that affect their surrounding community. For example, during the dengue epidemic of 2007, the afternoon duties for primary care clinics included conducting home surveys to control the spreading of the mosquito and educating families on prevention. The family nurse andphysician programwas established in Cuba in 1984. This primary care team is the center of Cuba’s medicine. They are trained to have an integrated approach to patient care and see their patients as psychosocial beings affected by their immediate environment. This general integrated approach to patient care has resulted in Cuba’s decreased number of emergency room visits, lower rates of hospitalizations, improved family planning, low infant mortality rates, and an overall increase in health literacy in the island. Community is such an integral part of the Cuban healthcare system that the family clinic is often composed of a two-story buildingwhere the clinic is on the first floor and the physician resides on the second floor. This allows the doctor to live in the community he or she works in, while being fully accessible to community members all the time. Secondary care occurs through the implementation of the larger polyclinics, which offer more specialized services to members of multiple primary care clinics in each municipality. These are community
{"title":"Caribbean Health and Sustainability through Cuban Model","authors":"E. Erickson","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888676","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888676","url":null,"abstract":"Over the years, health in the Caribbean has been affected by economic instability and lack of resources. Thus, making sustainability of our Caribbean nations extremely challenging. Cuba’s ideology after the revolution of 1959 focuses on the idea that healthcare should be accessible to all. It provides free healthcare to its citizens and delivers health care around the world. The late Fidel Castro often referred to Cuban physicians as an “army of white coats” in solidarity, providing healthcare to less fortunate countries around the world. Despite its political embargo, Cuba expanded its bioengineering research and eradicated infectious diseases that continue to cause illness and affect several countries today. Among them poliomyelitis was eradicated in Cuba in 1962, neonatal tetanus and diphtheria in the 1970s, and most recently measles, pertussis, mumps, and rubella in the 1990s. As a medical student in Cuba, I saw firsthand how Cuba conducted malaria screening with its international students. A practice that protected international students and Cuban citizens alike. The Cuban Medical system is directed by the Ministry of Public Health. It consists of primary, secondary, and tertiary care levels. Primary care starts at the primary care clinics, or consultorios, made up of one family doctor and one nurse. This medical team provides patient care to approximately 1,000 to 1,500 patients. They see patients in the clinic in the morning hours while the afternoons are dedicated to house visits, pedagogical responsibilities, administrative duties, or epidemiological work. The focus of the epidemiological work is to target issues that affect their surrounding community. For example, during the dengue epidemic of 2007, the afternoon duties for primary care clinics included conducting home surveys to control the spreading of the mosquito and educating families on prevention. The family nurse andphysician programwas established in Cuba in 1984. This primary care team is the center of Cuba’s medicine. They are trained to have an integrated approach to patient care and see their patients as psychosocial beings affected by their immediate environment. This general integrated approach to patient care has resulted in Cuba’s decreased number of emergency room visits, lower rates of hospitalizations, improved family planning, low infant mortality rates, and an overall increase in health literacy in the island. Community is such an integral part of the Cuban healthcare system that the family clinic is often composed of a two-story buildingwhere the clinic is on the first floor and the physician resides on the second floor. This allows the doctor to live in the community he or she works in, while being fully accessible to community members all the time. Secondary care occurs through the implementation of the larger polyclinics, which offer more specialized services to members of multiple primary care clinics in each municipality. These are community","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"51 1","pages":"34 - 39"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888676","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48460354","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888849
A. Nixon
Ana-Maurine Lara’s Queer Freedom: Black Sovereignty presents a compelling and unique ethnography of queer, Black, and Indigenous people and spiritual practices in the Dominican Republic. The book is based on more than three years of ethnographic fieldwork and interviews with activists, as well as the author’s engagement with traditional ceremonies and observation of national Catholic celebrations. The activists represent different communities and people on the margins (Black, LGBTI, Indigenous, spiritual practitioners, poor, and/or rural) and mostly at the intersections of two or more. These entanglements offer a complex understanding of Caribbean Black, Indigenous, and queer communities. Lara argues for and uncovers pathways to Black decolonization that built upon an interdependence between queerness and blackness—and what it means to be free—particularly for Black, Indigenous, and queer people. Through personal and poetic narratives and experiences in these communities, Lara theorizes possibilities of freedom through everyday acts of resistance. Queer Freedom: Black Sovereignty is not the usual scholarly book because it incorporates creative storytelling and myth creation alongside ethnographic research of various spiritual and activist practices. Lara challenges how scholars write and theorize, in particular for Caribbean and postcolonial scholars and personal as well as political investments in community-based research. Lara affirms Black and Indigenous forms of creation and knowledge production; she demonstrates this through storytelling, ethnography, participatory research, creative non-fiction, poetry, myth-making, and spiritual practice. The book troubles the fields of anthropology and Caribbean and Africana Studies through transdisciplinary approaches to ethnography and an insistent demand for justice and research that is accountable and transgressive. The driving force of the book is a positioning of Black and queer as one (of and in itself), which requires the reader to think deeply about the interconnections between queerness and blackness, freedom and sovereignty. Lara argues that we see and understand these as pivotal to the ongoing and unfinished project of decolonization. In other words, there is no freedom without self-determination and decolonial liberation, and there is no Black freedom without queer freedom. By using a colon in between “queer freedom : black sovereignty,” Lara insists
Ana Maurine Lara的《酷儿自由：黑人主权》展现了多米尼加共和国酷儿、黑人和土著人以及精神实践的引人注目的独特民族志。这本书基于三年多的民族志实地调查和对活动人士的采访，以及作者对传统仪式的参与和对全国天主教庆祝活动的观察。这些活动家代表不同的社区和边缘人群（黑人、LGBTI、土著、精神从业者、穷人和/或农村），大多处于两个或两个以上的交叉点。这些纠葛提供了对加勒比黑人、土著和酷儿社区的复杂理解。劳拉主张并揭示了黑人非殖民化的道路，这种道路建立在酷儿和黑人之间的相互依存关系之上，以及自由意味着什么，尤其是对黑人、原住民和酷儿来说。通过个人和诗意的叙述以及在这些社区的经历，劳拉通过日常的抵抗行为，理论化了自由的可能性。《酷儿自由：黑人主权》并不是一本常见的学术书籍，因为它结合了创造性的故事讲述和神话创作，以及对各种精神和活动家实践的民族志研究。劳拉对学者们的写作和理论提出了挑战，尤其是对加勒比和后殖民学者以及对社区研究的个人和政治投资。劳拉肯定黑人和土著人的创造和知识生产形式；她通过讲故事、民族志、参与性研究、非小说创作、诗歌、神话制作和精神实践来证明这一点。这本书通过跨学科的民族志方法以及对正义和负责任和违法研究的持续要求，困扰着人类学、加勒比和非洲研究领域。这本书的驱动力是将黑人和酷儿定位为一体，这需要读者深入思考酷儿与黑人、自由与主权之间的相互联系。劳拉认为，我们认为并理解这些对正在进行和尚未完成的非殖民化项目至关重要。换言之，没有自决和非殖民化解放就没有自由，没有酷儿自由就没有黑人自由。劳拉坚持认为，在“酷儿自由：黑人主权”之间使用冒号
{"title":"Queer Freedom: Black Sovereignty","authors":"A. Nixon","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888849","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888849","url":null,"abstract":"Ana-Maurine Lara’s Queer Freedom: Black Sovereignty presents a compelling and unique ethnography of queer, Black, and Indigenous people and spiritual practices in the Dominican Republic. The book is based on more than three years of ethnographic fieldwork and interviews with activists, as well as the author’s engagement with traditional ceremonies and observation of national Catholic celebrations. The activists represent different communities and people on the margins (Black, LGBTI, Indigenous, spiritual practitioners, poor, and/or rural) and mostly at the intersections of two or more. These entanglements offer a complex understanding of Caribbean Black, Indigenous, and queer communities. Lara argues for and uncovers pathways to Black decolonization that built upon an interdependence between queerness and blackness—and what it means to be free—particularly for Black, Indigenous, and queer people. Through personal and poetic narratives and experiences in these communities, Lara theorizes possibilities of freedom through everyday acts of resistance. Queer Freedom: Black Sovereignty is not the usual scholarly book because it incorporates creative storytelling and myth creation alongside ethnographic research of various spiritual and activist practices. Lara challenges how scholars write and theorize, in particular for Caribbean and postcolonial scholars and personal as well as political investments in community-based research. Lara affirms Black and Indigenous forms of creation and knowledge production; she demonstrates this through storytelling, ethnography, participatory research, creative non-fiction, poetry, myth-making, and spiritual practice. The book troubles the fields of anthropology and Caribbean and Africana Studies through transdisciplinary approaches to ethnography and an insistent demand for justice and research that is accountable and transgressive. The driving force of the book is a positioning of Black and queer as one (of and in itself), which requires the reader to think deeply about the interconnections between queerness and blackness, freedom and sovereignty. Lara argues that we see and understand these as pivotal to the ongoing and unfinished project of decolonization. In other words, there is no freedom without self-determination and decolonial liberation, and there is no Black freedom without queer freedom. By using a colon in between “queer freedom : black sovereignty,” Lara insists","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"51 1","pages":"71 - 74"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888849","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43992188","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1891605
Carole Boyce-Davies, A. Nixon
The Caribbean has always been the site of global interactions and transactions. Movements from one place to the other across diverse geographic locations and spaces (from island to island, the circum-Caribbean and from the region to continental locations). These movements, local and global, have played an important role in the dissemination of ideas and sharing of cultural practices from the indigenous people’s preColumbian experience to the contemporary Caribbean migrations and internationalization of Caribbean culture throughout the world. Haitian scholarMichel Rolph Trouillot argues in Global Transformations that the Caribbean has long been global with its “massive flow of goods, peoples, information, and capital across huge areas of the earth’s surface in ways that make the parts dependent on the whole.” We can see this expressed as well by writers, like Derek Walcott who in his memorable “The Sea is History” describes the historical archive which is still located in the Caribbean Sea. For Benitez-Rojo as for Hilary Beckles, the Caribbean functioned as the launching point of global capitalism, from which we are yet to recover. In a fitting creative-theoretical assertion, Kamau Brathwaite’s conceptualization of “tidalectics” also defined the series of movements that give definable meaning to the Caribbean seascapes and landscapes. Indeed the Caribbean is produced by and produces a series of global transformative movements that both receive and propel distinct social, cultural, economic and political changes. This too is the sense of the dialectic of departure and return that runs through Dionne Brand’s A Map to the Door of No Return and which, we assert, is the logic of Caribbean global movements. The theme of the memorable Caribbean Studies Association CSA-Haiti 2016 conference—“Caribbean Global Movements: People, Ideas, Culture, Arts and Economic Sustainability”—allowed a focus on the various movements that identify the Caribbean as located firmly in the global currents, while also repositioning questions of knowledge and sustainability. It also offered a space to think through the early centrality of Haiti in these movements and the ways of envisioning and planning future movements. Overall, the conference examined how Caribbean global movements operate, as people, ideas, and cultural arts from the Caribbean continue to have transnational impact and significance. What is presented here is only a taste of a larger intellectual fare that covered multiple fields, theories, within those larger thematic areas as they pertain to Caribbean Studies and for the benefit of a larger Black Studies community. This special issue presents the thinking on our part that went into framing Caribbean Global Movements, as a subject of intellectual inquiry, with only a few representative essays. We want by these means to offer a timely (and needed) engagement and which maintains the relevance of The Caribbean as a critical component of Black Studies in general.
加勒比一直是全球相互作用和交易的场所。从一个地方到另一个地方跨越不同的地理位置和空间(从岛屿到岛屿，环加勒比海和从区域到大陆位置)的运动。这些地方和全球的运动在传播思想和分享文化习俗方面发挥了重要作用，从土著人民的前哥伦布时期经历到当代加勒比移民和加勒比文化在全世界的国际化。海地学者米歇尔·罗尔夫·特鲁洛特在《全球转型》一书中指出，加勒比地区长期以来一直是全球化的，其“货物、人员、信息和资本在地球表面大片地区的大规模流动，使部分依赖整体。”我们也可以从作家那里看到这一点，比如德里克·沃尔科特(Derek Walcott)，他在令人难忘的《海是历史》(The Sea is History)中描述了仍然位于加勒比海的历史档案。对贝尼特斯-罗霍和希拉里•贝克尔斯来说，加勒比海是全球资本主义的起点，而我们尚未从中恢复过来。在一个恰当的创造性理论断言中，Kamau Brathwaite对“潮汐政治学”的概念化也定义了一系列运动，这些运动赋予了加勒比海景和景观明确的意义。实际上，加勒比是由一系列全球性变革运动产生并产生的，这些运动接受并推动了明显的社会、文化、经济和政治变革。这也是在迪翁·布兰德(Dionne Brand)的《通往不归路之门的地图》(A Map to the Door of No return)中贯穿的出发与回归的辩证意义，我们断言，这是加勒比地区全球运动的逻辑。令人难忘的加勒比研究协会csa -海地2016年会议的主题是“加勒比全球运动:人民、思想、文化、艺术和经济可持续性”，这让人们关注各种运动，这些运动将加勒比地区牢牢地定位在全球潮流中，同时也重新定位了知识和可持续性的问题。它还提供了一个空间来思考海地在这些运动中的早期中心地位以及设想和规划未来运动的方式。总的来说，这次会议检视了加勒比海地区的全球运动如何运作，因为加勒比海地区的人民、思想和文化艺术继续具有跨国影响和重要性。这里所呈现的只是一个更大的知识票价的味道，涵盖了多个领域，理论，在那些更大的主题领域内，因为它们与加勒比研究有关，并为更大的黑人研究社区的利益。本期特刊仅以几篇具有代表性的文章，介绍了我们在将加勒比全球运动作为一个知识探索主题的过程中所进行的思考。我们希望通过这些手段提供及时的(和必要的)参与，并保持加勒比地区作为黑人研究的重要组成部分的相关性。加勒比理论和政治
{"title":"Caribbean Global Movements","authors":"Carole Boyce-Davies, A. Nixon","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1891605","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1891605","url":null,"abstract":"The Caribbean has always been the site of global interactions and transactions. Movements from one place to the other across diverse geographic locations and spaces (from island to island, the circum-Caribbean and from the region to continental locations). These movements, local and global, have played an important role in the dissemination of ideas and sharing of cultural practices from the indigenous people’s preColumbian experience to the contemporary Caribbean migrations and internationalization of Caribbean culture throughout the world. Haitian scholarMichel Rolph Trouillot argues in Global Transformations that the Caribbean has long been global with its “massive flow of goods, peoples, information, and capital across huge areas of the earth’s surface in ways that make the parts dependent on the whole.” We can see this expressed as well by writers, like Derek Walcott who in his memorable “The Sea is History” describes the historical archive which is still located in the Caribbean Sea. For Benitez-Rojo as for Hilary Beckles, the Caribbean functioned as the launching point of global capitalism, from which we are yet to recover. In a fitting creative-theoretical assertion, Kamau Brathwaite’s conceptualization of “tidalectics” also defined the series of movements that give definable meaning to the Caribbean seascapes and landscapes. Indeed the Caribbean is produced by and produces a series of global transformative movements that both receive and propel distinct social, cultural, economic and political changes. This too is the sense of the dialectic of departure and return that runs through Dionne Brand’s A Map to the Door of No Return and which, we assert, is the logic of Caribbean global movements. The theme of the memorable Caribbean Studies Association CSA-Haiti 2016 conference—“Caribbean Global Movements: People, Ideas, Culture, Arts and Economic Sustainability”—allowed a focus on the various movements that identify the Caribbean as located firmly in the global currents, while also repositioning questions of knowledge and sustainability. It also offered a space to think through the early centrality of Haiti in these movements and the ways of envisioning and planning future movements. Overall, the conference examined how Caribbean global movements operate, as people, ideas, and cultural arts from the Caribbean continue to have transnational impact and significance. What is presented here is only a taste of a larger intellectual fare that covered multiple fields, theories, within those larger thematic areas as they pertain to Caribbean Studies and for the benefit of a larger Black Studies community. This special issue presents the thinking on our part that went into framing Caribbean Global Movements, as a subject of intellectual inquiry, with only a few representative essays. We want by these means to offer a timely (and needed) engagement and which maintains the relevance of The Caribbean as a critical component of Black Studies in general. ","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"51 1","pages":"1 - 7"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1891605","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44949289","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888851
E. Baptist
{"title":"Tacky’s Revolt: The Story of an Atlantic Slave War","authors":"E. Baptist","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888851","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888851","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"51 1","pages":"78 - 80"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888851","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"49622477","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2021-04-03DOI: 10.1080/00064246.2021.1888848
Aaron Kamugisha
The Guyanese radical activist Andaiye (1942–2019) was one of the most important public intellectuals in the Caribbean, whose work on behalf of working people, in the cause of women, and with international solidarity movements is known both regionally and globally. This collection of essays, The Point is to Change the World, was edited by Guyanese sociologist Alissa Trotz, and completed weeks before Andaiye’s death. It is an essential guide to the collapse of the dream of social transformation of the Caribbean Left, seen through the eyes of an uncompromising radical willing to swim against the tide of neoliberal predation in contemporary Caribbean society. I was privileged enough to introduce Andaiye as the keynote speaker at the Fourth Pat Emmanuel Distinguished lecture at the University of the West Indies, Cave Hill Campus in November 2009. As I sought to contextualize the importance of her work for the audience, Andaiye let out an amused sardonic chuckle—alerting me that my characterization of her as one of the leading Caribbean radical intellectuals of her generation meant little to her, and more to her speaker. This typical candor, coupled with her legendary impatience for foolishness, made Andaiye for almost half a century one of the quintessential voices of the Caribbean left. The value of this book lies in its presentation of a radical’s journey through a moment of revolutionary striving in the 1970s, with a resurgent social movement— Caribbean feminism—that she would do so much to forge, and onwards with a flexible grounded intelligence towards selfdetermination for the working people of Guyana, her home, the Caribbean, and the world. The collection is divided into four parts, and 27 different articles, with forewords by Clem Seecharan, Robin D.G. Kelley, and Honor-Ford Smith with an editorial introduction by Alissa Trotz and afterword by Anthony Bogues. The four sections represent overlapping areas of Andaiye’s engagement in the world—the first a record of her organizing in the region; the second her contribution to the struggle for unwaged, caring work. In both we see Andaiye’s flexible radical intelligence, always preoccupied with the fate of the working people of the Caribbean. The changing socioeconomic condition of the Caribbean region from the revolutionary struggle of the 1970s against postcolonial elite domination, through the acceptance of structural adjustment by its state managers in the 1980s, and the Caribbean’s contemporary plight, intensified Andaiye’s preexisting activism in socialist and feminist groups, from the Working People’s Alliance (WPA) to Caribbean Feminist Research in Action (CAFRA) and Red Thread. The focus of Andaiye’s work in feminist groups moved towards the politics of
{"title":"The Point is to Change the World: Selected Writings of Andaiye","authors":"Aaron Kamugisha","doi":"10.1080/00064246.2021.1888848","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888848","url":null,"abstract":"The Guyanese radical activist Andaiye (1942–2019) was one of the most important public intellectuals in the Caribbean, whose work on behalf of working people, in the cause of women, and with international solidarity movements is known both regionally and globally. This collection of essays, The Point is to Change the World, was edited by Guyanese sociologist Alissa Trotz, and completed weeks before Andaiye’s death. It is an essential guide to the collapse of the dream of social transformation of the Caribbean Left, seen through the eyes of an uncompromising radical willing to swim against the tide of neoliberal predation in contemporary Caribbean society. I was privileged enough to introduce Andaiye as the keynote speaker at the Fourth Pat Emmanuel Distinguished lecture at the University of the West Indies, Cave Hill Campus in November 2009. As I sought to contextualize the importance of her work for the audience, Andaiye let out an amused sardonic chuckle—alerting me that my characterization of her as one of the leading Caribbean radical intellectuals of her generation meant little to her, and more to her speaker. This typical candor, coupled with her legendary impatience for foolishness, made Andaiye for almost half a century one of the quintessential voices of the Caribbean left. The value of this book lies in its presentation of a radical’s journey through a moment of revolutionary striving in the 1970s, with a resurgent social movement— Caribbean feminism—that she would do so much to forge, and onwards with a flexible grounded intelligence towards selfdetermination for the working people of Guyana, her home, the Caribbean, and the world. The collection is divided into four parts, and 27 different articles, with forewords by Clem Seecharan, Robin D.G. Kelley, and Honor-Ford Smith with an editorial introduction by Alissa Trotz and afterword by Anthony Bogues. The four sections represent overlapping areas of Andaiye’s engagement in the world—the first a record of her organizing in the region; the second her contribution to the struggle for unwaged, caring work. In both we see Andaiye’s flexible radical intelligence, always preoccupied with the fate of the working people of the Caribbean. The changing socioeconomic condition of the Caribbean region from the revolutionary struggle of the 1970s against postcolonial elite domination, through the acceptance of structural adjustment by its state managers in the 1980s, and the Caribbean’s contemporary plight, intensified Andaiye’s preexisting activism in socialist and feminist groups, from the Working People’s Alliance (WPA) to Caribbean Feminist Research in Action (CAFRA) and Red Thread. The focus of Andaiye’s work in feminist groups moved towards the politics of","PeriodicalId":45369,"journal":{"name":"BLACK SCHOLAR","volume":"9 1","pages":"69 - 71"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2021-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://sci-hub-pdf.com/10.1080/00064246.2021.1888848","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"58643320","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
京公网安备 11010802042870号
京ICP备2023020795号-1
扫码关注我们
求助内容：
应助结果提醒方式：