Amelia Frank-Vitale, Lauren Heidbrink, Luis Xavier Guaman
This article investigates the operations of United States immigration courts ethnographically, examining how law, politics, and bureaucracy converge in the everyday production of immigration adjudication. Based on over 500 h of observation in 36 courtrooms across 11 immigration courts, we document how life-altering deportation decisions—often in absentia and lasting only minutes—are rendered through routinized procedures that obscure judicial ambivalence, the politicization of immigration, and bureaucratic pressures. While legal scholarship has emphasized patterns in judicial outcomes, and anthropology has traced how law shapes immigrants' lives beyond the courtroom, few studies ethnographically analyze the affective arrangements inside immigration court. We develop a novel, multi-sited methodology by mobilizing a national network of undergraduate students trained and supervised by faculty to conduct ethnographic court-watching. This approach produces rich qualitative data on tone, demeanor, and “off-the-record” exchanges, while also democratizing research through pedagogical innovation. We argue that immigration courts are best understood not only as legal institutions but as affective arrangements: spaces where judges, attorneys, clerks, interpreters, federal agents, and respondents are entangled in performances of authority, credibility, and fairness under conditions of bureaucratic and political constraint. We conclude by reflecting on the risks of conducting ethnography under escalating authoritarianism. Surveillance, suppression of dissent, and the targeting of students and scholars render research itself precarious. What does it mean to observe and analyze courts when the very act of knowledge production is marked with vulnerability and threat?
{"title":"Empty Justice: Ethnographic Court-Witnessing in Authoritarian Times","authors":"Amelia Frank-Vitale, Lauren Heidbrink, Luis Xavier Guaman","doi":"10.1002/nad.70009","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1002/nad.70009","url":null,"abstract":"<p>This article investigates the operations of United States immigration courts ethnographically, examining how law, politics, and bureaucracy converge in the everyday production of immigration adjudication. Based on over 500 h of observation in 36 courtrooms across 11 immigration courts, we document how life-altering deportation decisions—often <i>in absentia</i> and lasting only minutes—are rendered through routinized procedures that obscure judicial ambivalence, the politicization of immigration, and bureaucratic pressures. While legal scholarship has emphasized patterns in judicial outcomes, and anthropology has traced how law shapes immigrants' lives beyond the courtroom, few studies ethnographically analyze the affective arrangements inside immigration court. We develop a novel, multi-sited methodology by mobilizing a national network of undergraduate students trained and supervised by faculty to conduct ethnographic court-watching. This approach produces rich qualitative data on tone, demeanor, and “off-the-record” exchanges, while also democratizing research through pedagogical innovation. We argue that immigration courts are best understood not only as legal institutions but as affective arrangements: spaces where judges, attorneys, clerks, interpreters, federal agents, and respondents are entangled in performances of authority, credibility, and fairness under conditions of bureaucratic and political constraint. We conclude by reflecting on the risks of conducting ethnography under escalating authoritarianism. Surveillance, suppression of dissent, and the targeting of students and scholars render research itself precarious. What does it mean to observe and analyze courts when the very act of knowledge production is marked with vulnerability and threat?</p>","PeriodicalId":93014,"journal":{"name":"Journal for the anthropology of North America","volume":"29 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2026-01-23","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://anthrosource.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/nad.70009","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"146091496","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
{"title":"Futures After Progress: Hope and Doubt in Late Industrial Baltimore, By Chloe Ahmann, University of Chicago Press, 2024. 342 pp. $29.00 (paperback). ISBN: 978-0-226-83361-3","authors":"Ellen Garnett Kladky","doi":"10.1002/nad.70006","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1002/nad.70006","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":93014,"journal":{"name":"Journal for the anthropology of North America","volume":"28 2","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2025-10-09","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"145406588","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}
<p>In the heart of Morelia's central plaza, a stone wall bears the faces of the disappeared (Figure 1). The flyers are taped one over another—some faded by sun and rain, others freshly posted. Each one was placed here by <i>Madres de Desaparecidos en Michoacán</i>, a collective of mothers searching for their missing children—daughters, sons, siblings—in the face of institutional silence.</p><p>During my fieldwork on intimate partner violence in rural Mexico, I passed this wall regularly. Though the city's rhythms changed—markets opened, tourists passed, protests formed—the wall remained, accumulating layers of absence. What struck me most was the quiet forcefulness of these flyers. There is no spectacle here, but each sheet of paper resists forgetting. Each one says: <i>They matter. We are still looking</i>.</p><p>The disappeared come from varied backgrounds. Some vanished in domestic spaces, others in public spaces, or in transit. Some cases involve organized crime, others intimate partners, opportunistic actors, or direct state collusion. In some instances, disappearances are linked to local power struggles or economic disputes. What unites them is the failure of authorities to investigate and the refusal of their families—especially mothers—to remain silent in the face of overlapping webs of violence and impunity.</p><p>This image captures how public space becomes a site of grief, resistance, and care. The wall is both an archive and a protest. Through it, mothers assert presence in a system that renders their children invisible. Unlike the uniform look of state-issued alerts, these flyers vary in size, language, and tone. Some are photocopies; others include prayers or poetry. Together, they form a grassroots visual language of refusal. This language is not only a refusal of silence, but also a demand: for truth and investigation, for recognition of their children as victims of disappearance, and for accountability from a state that has failed to act.</p><p>Over time, the wall shifted. Some posters disappeared, others were added. Purple handprints, symbols of feminist protest in Mexico, appeared among them. The wall became a layered memorial: part personal mourning, part political claim. Forgetting here is not neutral; it is a form of violence. Through bureaucratic neglect, institutional silence, and the erasure of records, the state enacts a secondary disappearance—one that compounds families' grief by attempting to make loss invisible. The mothers' wall interrupts this violence of forgetting, insisting that absence be seen and remembered.</p><p>In a country where more than 100,000 people are currently missing, such walls are neither decorative nor incidental. They are built from pain, sustained by love, and charged with defiance.</p><p>For anthropologists, this image underscores the importance of paying attention to how visibility is produced and sustained by those most affected by violence. It invites us to see the public posting of flyers
在莫雷利亚中心广场的中心,一面石墙上刻着失踪者的面孔(图1)。传单一层一层地贴着,有些被日晒雨淋褪色了,有些则是新贴的。每个人都是由Madres de Desaparecidos en Michoacán安置在这里的,这是一个母亲们的集体,她们在面对制度沉默的情况下寻找失踪的孩子——女儿、儿子、兄弟姐妹。在我对墨西哥农村的亲密伴侣暴力进行实地调查时,我经常经过这堵墙。尽管这座城市的节奏发生了变化——市场开放了,游客经过,抗议活动形成了——但这堵墙仍然存在,不断积累着层层的缺失。令我印象最深刻的是这些传单的安静和有力。这里没有奇观,但每一张纸都拒绝被遗忘。每个人都说:他们很重要。我们还在寻找。失踪者来自不同的背景。有些人在家里消失了,有些人在公共场所或在运输途中消失了。有些案件涉及有组织犯罪、其他案件涉及亲密伙伴、机会主义行为者或直接的国家勾结。在某些情况下,失踪与地方权力斗争或经济纠纷有关。将他们联系在一起的是当局未能进行调查,以及他们的家人——尤其是母亲——在暴力和有罪不罚交织的网络面前拒绝保持沉默。这张照片捕捉了公共空间如何成为悲伤、反抗和关怀的场所。这堵墙既是一种档案,也是一种抗议。通过这种方式,母亲们在一个让她们的孩子被忽视的体系中表明了自己的存在。与各州发布的警报的统一外观不同,这些传单在大小、语言和语气上各不相同。有些是影印本;其他包括祈祷或诗歌。它们共同构成了一种草根的拒绝视觉语言。这种语言不仅是对沉默的拒绝,也是一种要求:要求真相和调查,要求承认他们的孩子是失踪的受害者,要求没有采取行动的国家承担责任。随着时间的推移,这堵墙发生了变化。一些海报消失了,另一些则增加了。其中出现了象征墨西哥女权主义示威的紫色手印。这堵墙变成了一个分层的纪念碑:一部分是个人的哀悼,一部分是政治诉求。遗忘在这里不是中性的;这是一种暴力。通过官僚主义的忽视、制度上的沉默和对记录的抹去,国家制定了一种二次失踪——一种试图让失踪变得不可见而加剧了家庭悲痛的失踪。母亲的墙打断了这种遗忘的暴力,坚持要看到和记住缺席。在一个目前有超过10万人失踪的国家,这样的墙既不是装饰,也不是偶然的。它们由痛苦建造,由爱支撑,并充满了反抗。对于人类学家来说,这幅图像强调了关注那些受暴力影响最严重的人是如何产生和维持能见度的重要性。它让我们看到,公开张贴传单不是一种被动的纪念,而是一种政治努力——坚持让失踪者被看到、被命名、被记住。这张照片并没有结束。但它提供了存在感。面对沉默,墙会说话。作者声明无利益冲突。
{"title":"Grassroots Memory and Maternal Refusal in Michoacán","authors":"Veronica Valencia Gonzalez","doi":"10.1002/nad.70005","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1002/nad.70005","url":null,"abstract":"<p>In the heart of Morelia's central plaza, a stone wall bears the faces of the disappeared (Figure 1). The flyers are taped one over another—some faded by sun and rain, others freshly posted. Each one was placed here by <i>Madres de Desaparecidos en Michoacán</i>, a collective of mothers searching for their missing children—daughters, sons, siblings—in the face of institutional silence.</p><p>During my fieldwork on intimate partner violence in rural Mexico, I passed this wall regularly. Though the city's rhythms changed—markets opened, tourists passed, protests formed—the wall remained, accumulating layers of absence. What struck me most was the quiet forcefulness of these flyers. There is no spectacle here, but each sheet of paper resists forgetting. Each one says: <i>They matter. We are still looking</i>.</p><p>The disappeared come from varied backgrounds. Some vanished in domestic spaces, others in public spaces, or in transit. Some cases involve organized crime, others intimate partners, opportunistic actors, or direct state collusion. In some instances, disappearances are linked to local power struggles or economic disputes. What unites them is the failure of authorities to investigate and the refusal of their families—especially mothers—to remain silent in the face of overlapping webs of violence and impunity.</p><p>This image captures how public space becomes a site of grief, resistance, and care. The wall is both an archive and a protest. Through it, mothers assert presence in a system that renders their children invisible. Unlike the uniform look of state-issued alerts, these flyers vary in size, language, and tone. Some are photocopies; others include prayers or poetry. Together, they form a grassroots visual language of refusal. This language is not only a refusal of silence, but also a demand: for truth and investigation, for recognition of their children as victims of disappearance, and for accountability from a state that has failed to act.</p><p>Over time, the wall shifted. Some posters disappeared, others were added. Purple handprints, symbols of feminist protest in Mexico, appeared among them. The wall became a layered memorial: part personal mourning, part political claim. Forgetting here is not neutral; it is a form of violence. Through bureaucratic neglect, institutional silence, and the erasure of records, the state enacts a secondary disappearance—one that compounds families' grief by attempting to make loss invisible. The mothers' wall interrupts this violence of forgetting, insisting that absence be seen and remembered.</p><p>In a country where more than 100,000 people are currently missing, such walls are neither decorative nor incidental. They are built from pain, sustained by love, and charged with defiance.</p><p>For anthropologists, this image underscores the importance of paying attention to how visibility is produced and sustained by those most affected by violence. It invites us to see the public posting of flyers","PeriodicalId":93014,"journal":{"name":"Journal for the anthropology of North America","volume":"28 2","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2025-10-06","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://anthrosource.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/nad.70005","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"145406673","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Boxing styles typify interrelated sets of fighting techniques and combative characters. Because boxers acquire a style through bodily practice and styles in the United States are often tied to racialized social groups, an ethnography of the acquisition of boxing styles presents an opportunity to examine how youth, in conjunction with other social actors in the boxing world, reorient their bodies within racial imaginaries. Bridging experiential and psychoanalytic approaches, this framework sheds light on the intersectional nature of race, gender, nationality, class, and other embodied social differences. Theorizing bodily reorientations within racial imaginaries invites us to reconsider the relationship between embodied difference, culture, and race. More than a social construct, racial experience can be a meaningful source for people to reimagine themselves in constructive ways against societies where racialized bodies are stigmatized and devalued.
{"title":"Bodily Reorientations Within Racial Imaginaries: Learning Boxing Styles in the United States","authors":"Gabriel A. Torres Colón","doi":"10.1002/nad.70004","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1002/nad.70004","url":null,"abstract":"<p>Boxing styles typify interrelated sets of fighting techniques and combative characters. Because boxers acquire a style through bodily practice and styles in the United States are often tied to racialized social groups, an ethnography of the acquisition of boxing styles presents an opportunity to examine how youth, in conjunction with other social actors in the boxing world, reorient their bodies within racial imaginaries. Bridging experiential and psychoanalytic approaches, this framework sheds light on the intersectional nature of race, gender, nationality, class, and other embodied social differences. Theorizing bodily reorientations within racial imaginaries invites us to reconsider the relationship between embodied difference, culture, and race. More than a social construct, racial experience can be a meaningful source for people to reimagine themselves in constructive ways against societies where racialized bodies are stigmatized and devalued.</p>","PeriodicalId":93014,"journal":{"name":"Journal for the anthropology of North America","volume":"28 2","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2025-10-04","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://anthrosource.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/nad.70004","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"145406777","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In the coalfields of Appalachia, coal production and employment have steadily decreased over the last two decades, yet political discussions in every recent election cycle continue to focus on coal or fossil fuels as the answer to the region's economic woes. Based on 18 months of fieldwork conducted in 2012 and 2013, I investigate the ways that coalfield residents experienced the intersections of political discourse with everyday material realities. Following David Ruccio's concept of everyday economic representations, I explore the ways residents directly and indirectly contest the dominant narratives in electoral politics that suggest coal is the only means to fix the depressed coalfield economy. I further argue that votes cast in each election cycle do not provide an adequate picture of the region or the reasons people go, or do not go, to the polls at all. I finally offer some insights into more recent election cycles and the economic futures of the coalfields as residents creatively work toward a just transition.
{"title":"“We're Not Going to Be a Coal Superpower Anymore”: Political Discourse, Elections, and Everyday Economics in the Coalfields of Southwest Virginia","authors":"Julie Shepherd-Powell","doi":"10.1002/nad.70001","DOIUrl":"10.1002/nad.70001","url":null,"abstract":"<p>In the coalfields of Appalachia, coal production and employment have steadily decreased over the last two decades, yet political discussions in every recent election cycle continue to focus on coal or fossil fuels as the answer to the region's economic woes. Based on 18 months of fieldwork conducted in 2012 and 2013, I investigate the ways that coalfield residents experienced the intersections of political discourse with everyday material realities. Following David Ruccio's concept of everyday economic representations, I explore the ways residents directly and indirectly contest the dominant narratives in electoral politics that suggest coal is the only means to fix the depressed coalfield economy. I further argue that votes cast in each election cycle do not provide an adequate picture of the region or the reasons people go, or do not go, to the polls at all. I finally offer some insights into more recent election cycles and the economic futures of the coalfields as residents creatively work toward a just transition.</p>","PeriodicalId":93014,"journal":{"name":"Journal for the anthropology of North America","volume":"28 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2025-04-24","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1002/nad.70001","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"143919439","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"OA","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}