Wang, Blockchain Chicken Farm

Wang, X. (2020). Blockchain chicken farm: And other stories of tech in China’s countryside. Farrar, Straus and Giroux.

In Blockchain Chicken Farm, Wang mixes personal narrative, journalism, and critical discussion of developments in technology in China and cross-cultural cognates in the United States. Readers get a grounding in some of the nuances in place in different developments in China, which help to not only inform, but also contextualize the challenges and developments in the region. Among many interesting themes on community, the individual, privacy, and politics is a good meditation on rural communities and their wisdom and relevance in technological development.

I can’t help but read this wonderful work as an extension of, inheritance from, and application of comparative rhetoric, especially the work, by Hall and Ames, Anticipating China. I am writing this in the midst of Chapter 5 where Wang is explaining her own associations and experiences with the phrase “Made in China” as a child and how Joseph Needham in the 1960s posed the question: “Why did China never develop modern science?” What’s being discussed are the deterministic lenses in these phrasings, the surpluses of meaning from these associations, and the importance of understanding how a term like “innovation” is not devoid of context—it is “laden with baggage.” Wang’s writing brings all this to the fore, but in a readable way that would be so accessible to students. Hall and Ames are great, but they are not so accessible.

One favorite quote of mine, given my interest in transnationality is when Wang highlights how global supply chains really undercut claims of local development in technology; she writes, “Indigenous innovation is just a nationalist parlor trick.”

I would encourage assigning chapters or perhaps the whole text across a range of writing courses, but I think that for my teaching, Chapter 5 is the best single chapter to cover a range of themes and also dig into the writing choices.

Nakagawa, "Spirits and Protein"

Nakagawa, S. (2020). Coda: The incommensurability of English language pedago(uer)y and sustainability—spirits and protein. In J. Goulah & J. Katunich (Eds.), TESOL and sustainability: English language teaching in the anthropocene era (pp. 177-194). Bloomsbury.

Nakagawa threads personal narrative through discussions of language, ontology, and indigenous perspectives in a critique of TESOL practices that might not recognize the challenges of indigenous language users. The central claim might be the argument that, “rather than operationalizing and validating Indigenous worldviews, translating our knowledge into dominant languages allows Indigenous communities to be judged by the standards of the dominant culture” (179). This claim gets at a loss in translation, not only of meaning, but of authority, in contorting a worldview through the narrow, foreign lens of a dominant language. Nakagawa calls attention to this loss by explaining the difficulty in answering a question posed by their nephew on whether there is life after death. Locating and describing the belief system of their indigenous community, Nakagawa moves beyond language into the very ontologies that separate worldviews, of the constitutions of bodies, their connection to land and ancestors, and how that informs the very terms by which life and death can be expressed. Though these descriptions are shared in English, the use of narrative and rhetorical questions and metaphor are effective in conveying these limitations.

Shima-guchi language users, as Nakagawa explains, learn English as an alternative to the immediate oppressor language: Japanese. This community does not need English for cultural proficiency, cognitive ability, conversation taught for profit, nor for business. Shama-guchi language users’ needs “are for an English that will connect us with other Indigenous communities and allow us a voice in dominant world structures as we work toward ecological harmony and emancipation from the yoke of capitalism” (180). What a powerful way to re-cast the relationship with English as a global hegemonic force, but taking a local context to flip the script and see it as also connecting other indigenous communities and still preferable to Japanese, which is seen as more oppresive--this is a complex relationship.

Nakagawa’s main point in the article is for TESOL professionals to think, to consider more broadly the implications of “what they do when they ignore the languages of those they teach in English-dominant classrooms” (178). More specifically, when indigenous communities--such as the one described in the piece--offer resistance, Nakagawa calls for instructors to have a better understanding of the source of that resistance; “When islanders are struggling to maintain their languages, cultures, and identities in the face of encroaching capitalism, it help TESOL professionals to understand that the confusion and ambivalence students display may actually result from struggling to maintain shima-guchi before it is lost, to learn through the medium of Japanese as a second language, while learning the language of internationalization (English) that is mandated by the Japanese national curriculum” (191). There are worldviews at stake in the global flows of these pedagogies and more than a few layers of meaning baked into the languages.

I find this article to be a simply wonderful read. The specific details and history of the shima-guchi language and the case for consideration of what is lost in translation were very effective. I think that getting down into the ontologies and epistemologies is crucial to understanding the extent of the challenge of moving between languages and I thought this made an implicitly compelling case for many of the tenets of a translingual disposition to language borders and standards, while also providing a great way to think about the complex relationship between language preservation that appears to be at odds with such a disposition.

I especially love the note of caution for food futures where produce is grown in labs without the contributions of the bodies of our ancestors and other living creatures tied to a place. An Indigenous world view complicates these agricultural economic and environmental developments with a spiritual loss that re-frames these issues in a powerful way. It is this ability to pivot from one worldview to another, a sort of ontological mobility that provides, for me, a thoughtful reflection on the ways to consider such language histories. Rather than providing a set of practices, I think more narratives like this will help to provide new understandings. What a gem.

Tamara Rayan, "Archival Imperialism"

Rayan, Tamara N. (2021, November 8). Archival imperialism: Examining Israel’s Six Day War files in the era of “decolonization”.[Special issue on Unsettling the Archives.] Across the Disciplines, 18(1/2), 108-121. https://doi.org/10.37514/ATD-J.2021.18.1-2.09

Rayan examines the Six Day War Files Collection and uses frameworks of settler colonialism, epistemic delinking, and symbolic annihilation to deconstruct the Israeli narrative it presents. One central question is whether it is valid to study an archive that is problematic, in this case asserting a colonial narrative that erases the nationhood and in many cases the presence of Palestinian people. Rayan sees value in countering such archives:

If Palestinian history is to be reinstated where it has been erased, I argue that we must not limit our focus to the boundaries of the archive. We must extend this analysis to the larger apparatuses of Israeli imperialism within which the archive operates.

Rayan's main argument is that the Six Day War Files are further marginalizing Palestinians--for example in sharing the narrative of Israeli officials who only refer to them as "arabs" thereby denying nationhood--by symbolically annihilating "the idea of Palestinians." The Israeli records creators have flipped the identity of indigenous and settler between Israeli and Palestinian peoples--a compelling point supporting Rayan's thesis. Rayan points out rhetorical moves as well as telling absences in the narrative to point to a colonialist narrative constructed through the choices of archivists--it's critical archival analysis presents a strong point about this narrative of erasure.