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This chapter explores race as a prevalent theme in American puritan literature. How did puritans understand human difference in early America and how did those understandings affect the literature they produced about their interactions with black Africans and Natives? That is to say, what did puritans mean when they employed race in early America? And how might their encounters with black Africans and Natives have impeded their efforts to represent race? Despite the fact that race as an idea and social structure was not stable through the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, puritans endeavored to differentiate themselves from those black Africans and Natives with whom they interacted in early America. To establish difference, they modified racialized ideas that were already circulating through Europe. This chapter highlights several of those ideas as they appear in American puritan literature. It ends with a discussion about the ways in which the material world encounters between puritans and those they deemed inferior because of their race challenged their racial notions and shaped the literature.
As If She Were Free is about the emancipatory acts of African and African-descended women in the Americas from the sixteenth through the early twentieth century. The stories of some two dozen individuals discussed in these chapters constitute a collective biography that narrates the history of emancipation as experienced by women in the western hemisphere. This history began upon the arrival of enslaved people from Africa in the Americas in the early sixteenth century and continued into the twentieth century as their descendants pursued an ongoing quest for liberty. As If She Were Free narrates this individual and collective struggle – in which African-descended women spoke and acted in ways that declared that they had a right to determine the course of their lives. This book, a collective biography of women who renounced their commodification and exploitation, articulates a new feminist history of freedom.
Identity in seventeenth century colonial Virginia was in a liminal state. Enter Elizabeth Key, an African-Anglo woman living in the colony during the middle of the seventeenth century. Key sued for her freedom when the overseers of her late master’s estate classified her in the estate inventory as a negro rather than a servant. To the overseers the term negro implied a permanently or perpetually unfree person, an inheritable condition. In contrast, the term servant implied someone born free who voluntarily relinquished her freedom for a definite period. Thus, Key’s classification raised serious questions about her legal status and the status of at least one of her two children. Hers is one of the earliest freedom suits in the English colonies filed by a person with some African ancestry. Her representative argued that because her father was an English subject, she could not be enslaved for life. A negative consequence of her successful lawsuit was a law consigning the children of enslaved women to permanent servitude. In effect, Key’s attempt to emancipate herself from slavery and its concomitant forms of oppression resulted in larger changes to the racial status quo.
Chapter 7 engages with Henry Neville’s fictional travel narrative The Isle of Pines (1668) as a work of exile. Like Sidney’s Court Maxims, Neville’s story of shipwreck and survival is a contemporary political commentary as well as a reflection on the nature and failings of patriarchal monarchy. It comments on the Second Anglo-Dutch War as well as the growing naval and economic power of the United Provinces versus England’s perceived decline since the time of Queen Elizabeth. In addition, it weighs up the strengths and weaknesses of patriarchal monarchy versus republican rule through an engagement with recent English history, including the Commonwealth, the rise of Cromwell and godly, republican rule and the Stuart Restoration. It is also notable for its use of Scripture, showing close familiarity with Old Testament texts while at the same time rejecting any literal interpretations of the Bible. Neville’s Isle is quite different in character from the radical Puritan writings of Ludlow and Sidney, not least on account of his chosen genre, yet, like Ludlow’s ‘Voyce’, it is also a deeply personal reflection on exile that engages with the vagaries of travel and making a home away from home, while remaining closely involved in the affairs of England.
This chapter surveys recent Irish works by migrant artists including theatre company Outlandish Theatre (OT) Platform, novelists Ifedinma Dimbo and Ebun Joseph, filmmaker Jijo Sebastian, poet/activist Christiana Obaro, and visual artist Vukasin Nedeljkovic. As an ensemble, these artists thematically rehearse similar terrain: the hyper in/visibility of racialized female migrants, the abuses experienced by those seeking asylum, gendered inequality and violence against and within migrant communities. This chapter focuses attention not only on the works themselves but on a few recurring contexts through which significant migrant arts practice has emerged. These include collaborative arts practices that pair professional and nonprofessional collaborators, self-publishing, and activist work – all contexts that present challenges for the work gaining critical traction due to the work’s perceived lack of professionalism.
Once nearly eighty percent Black, South LA is now two-thirds Latino. The demographic change was due to many factors, including a Black exodus driven by economic precarity, fear of crime, and experiences of over-policing and a Latino influx initially spurred by an immigration surge that could not be accommodated in traditional entry neighborhoods. While earlier research often focused on the conflicts between groups, time has passed and our new work points to contemporary quotidian accommodations between residents. We also document an emerging style of Black-Brown community organizing that seeks to both acknowledge the nuance of difference and create a shared sense of place identity. This article lifts up the Black experience in that transition of space and politics and notes how a sense of loss can result from such a dramatic change in a place that was once an iconic and literal home for much of Black Los Angeles. We suggest that that sense of loss is exacerbated by a legacy of racist asset-stripping and a deep worry about Black erasure due to current displacement pressures from gentrification. We close by discussing how organizers and political leaders need to take these dynamics into account when both building coalitions and ensuring Black futures in what is now a Black-Brown political and social space.
In “Hemingway, Race(ism), and Criticism,” Ian Marshall surveys the recent surge of criticism on Hemingway and race exemplified by the work of Marc K. Dudley, Amy L. Strong, Gary Edward Holcomb, and Charles Scruggs, among many others. In a provocative argument, he insists that examinations of this topic do not sufficiently decenter the author and thus end up as character testimonials, attempting to gauge the degree to which Hemingway was/was not racist. Marshall instead argues that Hemingway’s leftist politics should be recognized (at least before his 1950s shift to the moderate right) to appreciate the influence of his stance on class divisions on Ralph Ellison. Insisting that critics have misunderstood Ellison’s supposed abandonment of radicalism after the 1940s, he argues that black writers have been far more wary and suspicious of Hemingway than Hemingway scholarship has admitted. He then concludes by noting the particularly inspiring use of comparative pedagogies to open the canon and introduce readers to the Harlem Renaissance as a counterpoint to Hemingway.
This chapter shifts from an analysis of the governing practices through which death and vulnerability are produced and normalised, to an exploration of the ways in which such practices are grounded in racialised processes of dehumanisation. Specifically, it considers the ways in which pervasive processes of animalisation, as well as the pervasiveness of death and vulnerability, relate to contemporary and longer-standing debates surrounding human dignity. It is in a context marked by what Chapter 2 referred to as the toleration of biophysical violence that an appeal to the dignity of people on the move has been mobilised with particular potency. This chapter considers the potential of human dignity as a critical conceptual framework for contestations over what it means to be human, while also reflecting on the ways in which the concept’s mobilisation by various governing authorities further marks the toleration of biophysical violence and perpetuates the normalisation of death and vulnerability. Situating the concept within a modern European tradition of humanism, the chapter shows how human dignity invokes a longer-standing tension between the hierarchical differentiation of worthy and unworthy people on the one hand, and the universal levelling of all people as equal on the other. By exploring the ways in which such tensions play out through racialised practices of governing migration that dehumanise people on the move, the chapter highlights the ongoing significance of a modern European tradition of humanism to conceptions of dignity mobilised during the so-called Mediterranean migration crisis. Concluding Part I of the book by drawing attention to the failure of governing practices to fully master various unruly social and physical forces, the chapter suggests that the ‘Mediterranean migration crisis’ might be understood as nothing less than a breakdown of modern European humanism itself.
Educators and school psychologists are seeking ways to eliminate race and gender disparities in their school discipline. This chapter offers the Framework for Increasing Equity in School Discipline to guide their efforts in reforming discipline policy and practices. The principles are comprehensive, with an emphasis on both prevention and intervention. They identify the characteristics of classrooms and schools that need to be strengthened to prevent disciplinary interactions. With regard to intervention, they call for student and adult development of social and behavioral skills, equitable access to adult support, and a problem-solving approach to conflict that integrates family and student voice. Together, the principles show promise for reducing the use of exclusionary discipline and the punitive treatment of marginalized students.
Chapter 4 traces the accretion of Nauruan administration from 1920 to 1947. According to Article 22 of the League Covenant, C Mandates were to be administered as ‘integral portions’ of the Mandatory’s territory, an ambiguous status that came to pose juridical and diplomatic problems for the League. Australia defended a minimalist interpretation of its obligations in Nauru, as the British Phosphate Commission delivered cheap Nauruan phosphate into the farming sectors of Australia, Britain and New Zealand. For Japan and Germany, however, C Mandate status revealed the hypocrisies of the mandate system. Tensions in the Pacific worsened after their withdrawals from the League in 1933. The chapter revisits Japan’s occupation of Nauru during World War II, the war in the Pacific, and the formation of the UN from 1942. Nauru was re-taken in 1945, and the UN Trusteeship Agreement for Nauru was finalised in 1947, with Australia reappointed as Administering Authority. The chapter concludes that the shift from mandate to trust territory status later proved significant in defining self-government as a trusteeship objective; but that this shift was met with further accretions of imperial form.
Chapter 3 traces the accretion of imperial administration in Nauru from 1888 to 1920. The formal status of Nauru shifted twice, from protectorate to colony to British mandate. From 1888, Nauru was administered as part of the German Marshall Islands, and later subsumed under the direct colonial control of German New Guinea in 1906. The Jaluit Gesellschaft sold its phosphate rights to the British-owned Pacific Phosphate Company, which developed a mining operation under German administration. In 1914 Nauru was occupied by Australia on British request. The chapter retraces the advent of the League of Nations mandate system, arguing that C Mandate status marked an uneasy compromise between advocates of internationalised administration of the occupied territories and the annexationist Dominions of Australia and South Africa. As Nauru’s legal status shifted from protectorate to C Mandate, administrative control was assumed by Australia pursuant to an intra-imperial bargain between Britain, Australia and New Zealand, which established a tripartite phosphate monopoly. The chapter concludes that the basic division of public and private authority established in 1888 survived this shift.
Using higher education sociologist Martin Trow’s analytic framework, the South African system became a mass system in 2013 when 16.3 per cent of the eligible cohort among people classified African enrolled in higher education. The purpose of this contribution is to critically engage with the important achievement of massification in South African higher education and to understand the changing nature of inequality. The question is whether inequality is still primarily racial, or is it, as the sociologist David Cooper suggests, taking a different form? His argument is that with massification has come what he calls ‘restratification’ of the social character of the South African university. Race remains pertinent as a social determinant in his analysis but class, which was always a factor in the South African social dynamic, has become significantly more important in the post- apartheid period. This chapter argues that this development has not significantly been assimilated into and made part of higher education analyses or commentary on the changing form of the higher education system and how policy should be developed to deal with access.
This article investigates how Progressive Era writers, both popular and scientific, helped to construct multiracial identities alongside competing efforts to enshrine race into strictly black and white terms. Existing scholarship on race in the Progressive Era has not sufficiently analyzed the presence of multiracial populations. Instead, scholars have treated state and federal efforts to police racial boundaries, namely through anti-miscegenation laws and the census, as evidence that multiracial persons were a legal impossibility. However, scientific and popular writing on Appalachia provides a conceptual space in which multiracialism was not only a conceptual possibility, but was engendered. Appalachia took on increased importance during the Progressive Era as both intellectuals and reformers used the region to frame their anxieties about the limits of modernity and the threat of racial mixing. The region was home to white mountaineers who appeared arrested in time, existing in uncomfortable proximity to newly discovered groups with white, black, and Native American ancestry who also seemed to have been shunned by civilization. In attempting to understand the peculiar conditions of Appalachia, these Progressive Era writers helped to advance some of the first ideas about what it meant to be mixed-race in America.
This is a reflective piece that examines the nature of racial complaint with reference to Dr Kris Rallah-Baker's concerns about the racism that characterised his medical education. It will further examine the anti-racist campaign that sprung up in support of Rallah-Baker with a view to illustrating the limits of conventional critical race theory in understanding the course of events. Using the work of Aileen Moreton-Robinson, Gramsci and Stuart Hall, it will be argued that the Rallah-Baker case illustrates that Australian hegemonic formations can never quite command total legitimacy because sovereign formations, anti-racist in outlook, erupt with a frequency and facticity that lay bare the conceit of settler-colonialism. In so doing the paper will work towards an understanding of the critical Indigenous/race paradigm that goes beyond critical race insights borne of other places and experiences. As will be seen, what followed Rallah-Baker's complaint, the campaign that supported him and the concessions finally won was not, as critical race theory is wont to claim, a case simply of ‘interest convergence’; rather it was, I propose, an example of ‘sovereign divergence’.
This chapter analyzes President Trump’s remarks at the 2017 Black History Month Listening Session, in particular his repeated discussion of the seemingly irrelevant subject of “fake news.” Through a framing analysis (Goffman 1974) of Trump’s language, we make sense of Trump’s seemingly non-sequitur topic shifts and illustrate how the actions he takes through these shifts function as strategic attempts to build relationships with African American participants in the session. Our analysis illustrates how Trump strives to build relationships with his African American interlocutors through first praising well-known African American figures and then shifting frames to commiserate about the news media. While praising such figures functions as Trump’s direct attempt to align with the broader African American community, making disparaging remarks about news media functions to indirectly align Trump with the politically conservative African Americans in this interaction, sometimes through their laughter at his jokes. Like many politicians, Trump elicits support as much from his implicit relational messages as from the content of what he says.
What does it mean to decolonize the literature classroom? This short paper is intended as a personal reflection on teaching as an engagement with the social forces that bring neocolonial relations into the classroom, drawing on my experience teaching literature and literary theory in South Africa and Canada. I explore the idea of decolonizing the classroom as the production of an “outside” that provides meaning for the classroom’s “inside.”
Evidence that racial minorities are targeted for searches during police traffic stops is widespread, but observed differences in outcomes following a traffic stop between white drivers and people of color could potentially be due to factors correlated with driver race. Using a unique dataset recording over 5 million traffic stops from 90 municipal police departments, we control for and evaluate alternative explanations for why a driver may be searched. These include: (1) the context of the stop itself, (2) the characteristics of the police department including the race of the police chief, and (3) demographic and racial composition of the municipality within which the stop occurs. We find that the driver's race remains a robust predictor: black male drivers are consistently subjected to more intensive police scrutiny than white drivers. Additionally, we find that all drivers are less likely to be subject to highly discretionary searches if the police chief is black. Together, these findings indicate that race matters in multiple and varied ways for policing outcomes.
There is a lack of critical research addressing racism as a dynamic of mental health in schools. In the critical view, US schools mirror a social system built on an ideology of white supremacy; the US school system may perpetuate racial trauma for students of color. Teachers who demonstrate culturally competent identities in practice have important roles to play in counteracting racial trauma and promoting the mental health of students of color. Extending critical race theory and relational cultural theory, this chapter proposes a new framework for understanding cultural competence at the intersection of racism and mental health, Critical School Mental Health Praxis (CrSMHP). CrSMHP challenges models of resiliency that put the onus on the victim to overcome circumstances. It instead targets the root cause of the traumas, oppressive social systems, and their perpetuation in schools. Cultural competence in CrSMHP focuses on dismantling oppressive systems through systematic critical reflection and practice. In proposing CrSMHP, we suggest specific recommendations for professionals as a method for improving the mental wellness of underserved and underrepresented populations.
W. E. B. Du Bois’s engagement with the thought of Karl Marx forms an important aspect of his intellectual biography, yet its contours crystallize explicitly only late in his written work, and its development prior to the 1930s remains insufficiently understood. In order to bring to light the mix of criticisms, reservations, ideals, and inspirations that shape this reception, this article explores its trajectory as exhaustively as the available documentation permits, beginning from Du Bois’s early training in economics as a university student, continuing through his increasing attention to socialism in the early 1900s and his embrace of Soviet communism in the 1920s, and culminating in the 1930s in his teaching of Marx at Atlanta University and the overtly Marxian positions he adopts in Black Reconstruction (1935).
Despite the increased use of dating technology for finding and forming romantic relationships, location remains relevant for relationship formation. While current research on relationship formation attends to the ratio of marriageable men to women, marital attitudes, and gendered racial exclusion, this research does not always consider a nuanced look at how location can also constrain opportunities to make short- or long-term romantic connections. Drawing on interviews with 111 Asian, White, Black, and Latina heterosexual college-educated women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-three, I find that regardless of race/ethnicity, women observe that some places provide limited opportunities to meet men and that the mismatch between their dating norms, beliefs, and/or expectations for relationships and the location where they reside make their search more difficult. Women of color additionally note that some locations provide fewer opportunities for same-race and/or interracial dating than others. I also find that women of color are more likely to employ strategies to address their locational barriers than White women.
Therefore, I argue that not only does location continue to matter for forming romantic connections in the digital age, but that location and race also intersect to create unique locational barriers for women of color. This intersection, consequently, demonstrates that the opportunities for relationship formation remain stratified despite the rise of dating technology.