The Feminine Nature of Knowing

Allie Richmond, TCCS Student ’19

Between the reaching branches and the sturdy trunks is the space where the light lingers on the crystalline morning rays. Bright and almost blinding with intense purpose, it seeks out the ice-slick earth with determination I often envy come Monday morning as I make my way to work.

It strikes me as strange, that winter is known as a dark time of the year. Without the dense foliage of summer months, and within the unburdened silence that hushes the clutter of noise, it seems so bright and clear, as though welcoming clarity of vision.

Considering the places that I have been, the one place I know I always feel entirely whole, is where I hear the crunch of leaves under foot, and feel the filtered sunlight on my cheeks. I often seek out the woods and the quiet of morning walks to clear my own vision. Under the canopy my ideas sprout and take root, growing deeper and reaching higher, attempting to mimic the trees.

A hand-drawn image of a woman with tree roots and nature emerging from her head
Original artwork by the author

This past semester I spent a lot of time walking through the woodland paths near where I stay. Graduate school is by far one of the most intimidating experiences in my life. I confront my fears, doubts, and insecurities about my ideas, intelligence, and ability to understand with every lesson. I often worry that I am not grasping conceptual complexities, or not interpreting the nuances within the topics.

It is not a fear of the unknown, rather, a fear that I will reach a limit or an end to what I can know, or what I am capable of knowing. Of coming to a point of stagnation where I become unwittingly but definitively ignorant of what is beyond.

Recently, I have found comfort in several podcasts and books on self-care as a woman and how it is deeply connected to the cycles of the Earth. Many of these outlets explore the feminine power that is a part of Mother Nature. Connecting with Mother Nature is thus a way of connecting with maternal lineage and knowledge.

A figure of a woman stylized with bright, colorful organic lines emerging from her headOriginal artwork by the author

A podcast I listened to recently talked about feminine power and the connection between women and their mother’s lineage. This connection is called Motherlines in the podcast and describes how women have a special knowledge deeply connected to the natural world. It refers to the ancestral string of maternal knowledge that guides us and allows us to understand our journeys with the support of all the past mothers and women in our bloodline. This podcast opened my eyes and reaffirmed my comfort within the woods as a connection I have to my maternal lineage.

One of the speakers mentions the cyclical nature of the Earth. She spoke about how women heal and learn in a way similar to the seasons, and are connected to the cycles of the moon. The seasons of the year, express a continual circle of unending life, death, and rebirth. This gave me solace from my fears. It soothed my mind because, I rationalized,  if I learn in a cyclical way, I will never reach my limit.

Aiming for cyclical knowledge, where no scale can place boundaries of linear judgement, I am free. There will never be a final ending, but instead, many beginnings and endings that enable growth and rebirth without limit.

My fear dissolves.

A figure of a woman with the words "memory", "heart", "soul" and "past", "present" and "eternity" surrounding her
Original artwork by the author

US Neoliberal Fascism

Andrés Fabián Henao Castro,
Assistant Professor Department of Political Science and TCCS faculty, UMass Boston

Editor’s note: This blogpost is a “Special feature” from Andres Fabian Henao Castro due to their exceptional level of analysis and critique.

A satirical drawing published in La Campana de Gràcia (1896) criticizing U.S. behavior regarding Cuba by Manuel Moliné, just prior to the Spanish–American War.
Source: Wikimedia Commons

The 2016 election of Donald Trump to the Presidency of the US marks a decisive rise of US fascism.

Fascism is a process in which the intensification of imperialist hetero-patriarchal white nationalist ideology accompanies a deepening of the connections between the state and capital in the formation of the corporative state.

This process leads, logically, to the destruction of the public space, the attack on democratic forms of collective power, and the widening of inequality across all vectors of difference.

In this post, however, I would like to highlight the significance of Iyko Day’s concept of “romantic anticapitalism,” for an understanding of US Neoliberal Fascism.

Day defines romantic anticapitalism as “the misperception of the appearance of capitalist relations for their essence, a misperception that stems from Marx’s notion of the fetish.” Fetishism is Marx’ way of naming the ways in which capitalism conceals the real source of value—that is, the socially necessary labor-time that goes into the production of the commodity. Through the fetishization of the commodity, capitalism misperceives the appearance for the essence, that is, it makes it look as if it was the commodity that had value on its own. Thus, when Day claims that romantic anticapitalism stems from Marx’ notion of the fetish she means two things.

On the one hand, that this misperception means to conceive of the opposition between the concrete (use-value) and the abstract (exchange-value) in the form of antinomical realms of society. On the other hand, that the antinomy between these two realms of society translates into a “[glorification of] the concrete dimension while casting as evil the abstract domination of capitalism.”

Day, it is worth stressing, was interested in understanding the settler colonial history by which Asians would end up personifying the misperceived evilness of capitalism in contemporary North-America.

Thus, she distinguished between two settler colonial logics that historically organized these different social positionalities in an structural antinomy: an ongoing logic of elimination—structuring the land-based relationship of expropriation between the settler and the native—and an ongoing logic of exclusion—structuring the labor-based relationship of expropriation between the settler and the alien.

“Alien” is Day’s way of naming a coerced form of migratory labor that, although not native to the territory, can never occupy the position of the settler, as it remains forever excluded from the social order.

The position of the “alien” was originally occupied by enslaved Africans during the British/French/Spanish/Portuguese colonization of native territories, renamed as the Americas after the violent Conquest. This position of the “alien” Day also attributes to Asians who, unlike enslaved black people, were not spatially alienated, as their ancestors were not systematically enslaved and then transported through the Atlantic as commodities to be sold in the market.

This means that Asians constitute a “disposable” form of alien labor. They can be deported, or refused entry, meaning that their dominant forms of social exclusion take place at the border, or outside of the national territory, unlike the domestic forms of social control to which black people are subjected.

And yet, what interests Day most is the more sophisticated form that such logic of exclusion takes under multicultural neoliberalism. The neoliberal exclusion of that alien labor force operates no longer through the openly racist form of the “yellow peril” (materialized in the US internment camps of the 40s), but through the more politically neutralized form of assimilation since the 70s, in the otherwise valorized form of the “model minority.” The neoliberal valorization of this exclusion links Asians to the evil of abstraction as a form of “efficient labor.” And it is this pervasive valorization that facilitates Day’s qualification of the status of Asians in North America as the “new Jews.” The parallel goes as follows:

Just like Jews were made to racially personify the abstract domination of capitalism in Nazi Germany, as a result of their historical segregation into financial sectors of the economy, the neoliberal association of Asians with temporally efficient labor made them eligible to the same personification of evil in contemporary North-America.

The racialization of the misperceived capitalist antinomy between the abstract and the concrete, by which people of color are made to personify the evil of abstraction, and white nationalists the authentic embodiments of the concrete—Jews and Germans respectively during the classic form of fascism—has become, however, more racially diverse. What I would add to Day’s claim is that US Fascism has, in short, taken advantage of the multicultural turn of neoliberalism. On the one hand, the anti-blackness that targets black people with domestic exclusion via systems that reproduce their conditions of social death, inclusive of the prison-industrial complex, police brutality, and the new segregation regime articulated around the criminalization of blackness, no longer targets black people exclusively—even if they continue to be the primary targets of white supremacy.

On the other hand, disposable forms of alien labor have also diversified. After all, the inclusive exclusion of Asians through the assimilation of “efficient labor” does not eliminate the exclusive inclusion of “cheap labor,” which finds its racialized substitute in the figure of the Mexican—or the Central and South-American more broadly.

Undocumented migrants, and “undesirable” ones, are targeted with harsher immigration policies outside of the US and more repressive forms of surveillance. These include but are not reducible to, unequal labor agreements, the construction of walls, the militarization of the borders, as well as the creation of a parallel prison-industrial complex misnamed as detention centers without the legal protections afforded to prisoners.

Muslims personify a more complex and affectively stronger form of evil, which is altogether misperceived as outside of capitalism. Muslims have become the systematic target of war, the primary targets of the remaining, if territorial displaced camps—as in the case of Guantánamo—and the subjects of travel bans. US fascism feeds off a broader racist spectrum that in the multicultural style of neoliberalism, diversifies the differences out of which it fuels the romantic glorification of the concrete in the form of white nationalism.

The consequence of this racial diversification is a more fluid and interchangeable implementation of both logics of elimination and exclusion indistinctively and iteratively against multiplied forms of racialized and gendered labor. But more importantly, these logics are today directly part of the circuit of capital accumulation.

The now global military industrial complex, which includes a plethora of repressive apparatuses of the state, the para-state, and the corporation, functions as an extractive machine seeking to convert human and non-human energy into value-in-motion.

The ideological multiplication of the racialized and gendered threat through which the white-nationalist subject is romanticized as the “real” victim not only obscures capitalism as the real source of inequality and environmental destruction, but replaces it with a fictitious social welfare state seeking to unjustly regulate it in order to favor the allegedly underserved. The intensification of this violence marks a significant change with regards to the classic form of fascism. Old fascism still conceived of the state as a relatively autonomous space for corporative capital to manage the common affairs of the elite through the mega-media construction of a unified racial threat. Neoliberal fascism no longer needs the illusion of the relative autonomy of the state, or the unity of the racial threat.

This is evident in the appointments of Marvin Odum, former President of Shell Oil Co., as the “Chief Recovery Officer” after the ecological devastation of Houston; the appointment of Scott Pruitt, who does not believe in environmental protection and denies climate change, as the Administrator of the EPA; the appointment of anti-public education Betsy DeVos as the Secretary of Education; the appointment of Ajit Pai, a former Verizon lawyer and current advocate for the destruction of net neutrality as the Secretary of the Federal Communications Commission; and the appointment of the ExxonMobil CEO Rex Tillerson as Secretary of the State, to mention only a few.

These appointments are logically accompanied by legislation seeking not only to destroy whatever “public goods” remain, but to make the very possibility of reviving their public character impossible in the future. US neoliberal fascism goes beyond the traditional commodification of the state, which gives to corporations an indirect yet de facto power to legislate via their unrestricted power to finance candidates, political parties, and lobbies.

The commodification of the state now operates through the literal subsumption of public institutions into the corporative mega-machine and the global logic of capitalist accumulation.

Within this neoliberal scenario capitalism is no longer the structural cause of ecological devastation, gross socio-economic inequality, and the erosion of democratic power, but the solution to a misperceived problem that personifies the evils of capitalism through a diversified racist ideology that makes non-whites into the differential evil abusers of a fictitious welfare state that turns deserving whites into the undeserving victims of that abuse.

I Got Ya’ll

Jeannette Mejia, TCCS ’19 student

There is no way, I guess no real way, to prepare one for the pain of higher education. I knew graduate school would be difficult, I was prepared for the difficulty of the technicality of it, but I did not know how painful the experience of learning would be.

I am a second-generation Dominican immigrant, I am an Afro-Latina, I am a first-generation college student, I am a Lawrence, Mass native, I am a woman, I am an unhealthy woman who is overweight and has high blood pressure, I am someone who has anxiety.

 

I share this, not to invoke pity, but because the intersection of these identities has shaped my experience as a graduate student, and needless to say, I wasn’t ready.

I sat in our Topics course, feeling the rage steaming on my face, feeling my heart beat faster than a ticking clock, my palms sweaty, the pain of the skin on my fingers after they started bleeding when I picked too much, the twitching in my leg because I could feel my anxiety seeping through my body not allowing me to sit still, my head hurting, I felt this anger deep deep down that I could not explain, I felt this feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that was not unfamiliar except this time it hurt a little more, almost as if my pain was punching my chest on the inside, and I felt the stinging tears starting to stream down my face, as we discussed Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow.

When I read the readings that had been assigned for that week, I was mad. Not because I did not know how the system targets Black and Brown people, because that was almost innate, that fear was something ingrained into my upbringing. But because I did not know how just how much it was embedded into the functioning of the United States. It was almost as if someone had yanked the half-peeled band aid over my unhealed wound, and I did not know how to move.

Because when I read our readings, a lightbulb went off, and all I could do was playback the moments the men in my family were taken away from me due to incarceration, and suddenly it all made sense, it all became clear and there was no longer a grey area.

I kept thinking about this for the whole week, ruminating about it. I was so angry, and as I have come to learn, anger is a secondary emotion, so I guess if I am going to be open and honest, I wasn’t just angry, I felt despair and I felt hopeless. How can I protect the people I love when I know that I do not have that power?

Pain is not new to me, I think most of us know this undying feeling, but it was the kind of pain. I was sitting there discussing the very thing that was happening at home, my uncle sitting in prison headed for deportation, my nephew who was completing a five-year sentence, my partner who was unjustly stopped by the police that week, this was happening in real time, right at home.

There is something that shifts when you really understand something that you once thought you understood and then you go home to the very thing you just conceptualized/intellectualized in class, and I still haven’t quite learned how to do this, so I just sit with it not really knowing what else to do. I share this because my experience in academia has been one of the most painful experiences and I question my place here every single day.

I want those who feel what I feel to find solace in this post, you are not alone. I am not alone.

On the weekend of November 11th, I attended the Black Health Matters Conference at Harvard, and I felt it. The genuine love and support and happiness that has been able to help me continue this journey. I left the conference and I thought “Okay, Jeannette, you got this, you need to do this”. I feel this when I walk into my lab (shout out to Dr. Tahirah Abdullah & The Black Mental Health & Advocacy Lab) and when I meet with my advisor Dr. Aminah Pilgrim, and the new connections I’ve made in my cohort, their unconditional love and support that has been my backbone throughout this experience.
I want to share this because higher education is an isolating and painful experience that I was not prepared to take on and when I entered the new world of TCCS, I did not know how to work through this. I’m still learning, and I think it’s going to be a long journey, but I think I’m going to get through this and I am grateful to those who are right behind me cheering me on, thank you.

I hope if you read this you can find support in this post or someone who just understands, you are not alone, don’t quit. I want to take a moment to highlight the importance of support & representation, without this I don’t think I’d have the strength to continue.  

A painting depicting four African women in dance wearing long dresses in bright colors

“How did you manage to get a ticket?”

Grace Furtado, TCCS ’19 student

‘How did you manage to get a ticket?’

The surprised-filled phrase kept on repeating itself over the course of the week as I notified my coworkers that I would not be in the office that Thursday.

A billboard showing actress Viola Davis
Academy Award winning actress and producer Viola Davis spoke at the Mass. Conference for Women (photo credit: Grace Furtado).

I had heard about the convention for years but the price tag  – along with the time commitment during the work day – always made the event inaccessible. But thanks to the the generosity of “Strong Women, Strong Girls,” I was finally able to attend the nationally-known conference focused on the empowerment of women: The Massachusetts Conference for Women. At last, my opportunity came!

When the alarm rang at 6:00 AM that frosty December morning I excitedly woke up to get ready for the upcoming conference. As the Uber driver slowly turned the corner to come up on the Boston Convention & Exhibition Center swarms of women were walking towards the glistening building.

The opening speaker, Viola Davis, set the tone for the spectacular day-long event. New England-born, Davis passionately spoke about her rise to fame, the struggles life had thrown at her and how as a woman we all have the inner strength to become the women we dream ourselves to be.

An overhead view of the convention center with many tables, chairs and people inside at the conference
Hundreds of people attended the convention this past December in Boston, Mass. (photo credit: Grace Furtado)

Throughout the day over 100 speakers provided inspiration and tricks on how to navigate obstacles or be the best version of ourselves. Vendors ranged from Lancome Cosmetics to Harley Davidson and even Fearless Girl was on-set for anyone interested in a photo-op.

The star-studded event brought together women from all walks of life seeking a space to cultivate their network. Workshops provided tips on how to score that raise and one-on-one sessions showed us how to shake off the dust from the old resume.

After a long day of being ‘workshopped out,’ I happily carried my take-away bag filled with brochures and treats onto the streets of the waterfront. The day had been filled with innovative speeches, critical conversations and an opportunity for women to showcase their entrepreneurial spirit.

Water everywhere and not a drop to drink: The struggle to save UMass Boston?

Juan Blanco, TCCS ’19

As I stood at the beautiful and luxurious room on the 32nd floor of 1 Beacon at the heart of downtown Boston and looked at the UMass logo on the bottled waters on each of the trustees chairs I could not help but wonder: How much money do we use a year on bottled water labels?

Activists protest UMass Boston's recent financial decisions outside of the UMass Club in downtown Boston
Activists protest UMass Boston’s recent financial decisions outside of the UMass Club (photo credit: Juan Blanco)

A group of students, staff, faculty and community members attended the UMass Board of Trustees Administration and Finance meeting this morning. The goal was to get the Board to vote on approving the use of 5 million dollars from their approximately 96 million dollars of unrestricted central funds to be used at UMass Boston to alleviate the budgetary crisis that is plaguing this institution and buy more time to find alternative means of closing this budget gap without the current “fix” of austerity, layoffs and attacks to our academic core.

These alternatives already exist, measures such as the fair share amendment (which the board has yet to publicly endorse, and which the Massachusetts High Technology Council where UMass president Marty Meehan sits on the board of has sued to keep it away from voters), the proposed use of the Bayside property, as well as the legislative push against state underfunding, can be what keep this university moving forward without destroying its mission.

The author of the post holds his prepared speech in front of the UMass Club bulding in downtown Boston, Mass.
Juan Blanco in front of the UMass Club before testifying at a Board of Trustees meeting.

Members of the UMB community are being made to pay for the sins of those that came before them, with the mismanagement of funds cited by the Board of Trustees being the cause of all that ails us. However, if one is to look at the history of this institution, this is clearly a 40-year problem.

Part of the construction that has gotten us in this hole is directly caused by the shoddy and illegal practices that the Board of Trustees approved back in the 1970s that not only left us with crumbling foundations but also with two state senators in prison on corruption charges related to the selection of the contractor. Now our substructure is quite literally falling to pieces, so much so that firetrucks are not recommended on top of it if a fire were to break out.

Here at UMass Boston, we are a very unique institution.

More than half of our student population are first generation students. More than half of our student population are also people of color. A great number of our students, including myself, are non-traditional students and hold jobs, raise families, and create change in their communities while at the same time balancing their studies.

This institution plays a very important role in a system of higher education that has consistently kept education away from those who have wanted it most and our urban mission becomes closer and closer to mere rhetoric as each day passes.

A bottle of water branded with UMass Boston
UMass Boston branded bottled water. (Photo credit: Juan Blanco)

As Maddie Walker, an undergraduate student and president of the UMB chapter of PHENOM (the Public Higher Education Network of Massachusetts) and I shared out stories with the board, the press and everyone else in the room; our brothers, sisters and cousins marched the streets with signs, chants and ferocity letting our community know about the injustices that are happening in their only 4-year public research university in the city.

The board did not answer our question, but hopefully our community will answer for them and demand that this institution serve the people it was built to serve. To quote our mission statement: “In providing a supportive environment for the academic and social development of a broad array of students of all ages who represent many national and cultural origins, we seek to serve as a model for inclusive community-building”.

If our classes continue to get bigger, our staff cut, and our funding opportunities disappear, what will this university look like in 2, 5, 10 years? Where will non-traditional students like myself get an education? If things remain the way they’re going, those questions pose bleak answers. But hey, let’s not worry too much folks…at least we’ll still have the UMass logo on the bottled water.

*
Please see the following report created by faculty, staff and students that explains what is happening at UMB:

http://fsu.umb.edu/sites/fsu.umb.edu/files/Crumbling%20Foundations%202017-0914.pdf