I am mainly part of the research collective called “COVID-19 Places: Turkey.” I focus on the COVID-19 disaster governance and scientific cultures. So far, we have worked through google docs. By September, we plan to hold regular meetings, and add more to the PECE essay. This group welcomes new members.
I also have many questions at local, national, and transnational levels. Nevertheless, in the short-term (Fall 2020), I want to focus on the following research topics/areas:
The transnational governance of COVID-19
The ways science-society relations (and/or scientific cultures) shape and are shaped by the governance of COVID-19 in specific places (from community to institution to city to nation-state scale).
Tactics that can be developed through transnational collaboration so as to respond to the various problems deepening and/or emerging in the midst of this disaster, e.g., the problems we (may) encounter as educators, and so on.
I imagine all these as collaborative studies.
I live in İzmir, Turkey, and am assistant professor in the Division of Urbanization and Environmental Problems at the Department of Political Science and Public Administration at İzmir Katip Çelebi University. I am also part of an STS Research Network in Turkey – IstanbuLab. I can be reached at duygukasdogan@gmail.com
I have been involved in the Transnational STS Working Group. I am interested in fostering transnational organizational capacities in response to disasters.
I am especially interested in the following questions:
Why is the rate of incarceration in Louisiana so high? How do we critique the way prisons are part of infrastructural solutions to anthropocenic instabilities? As Angela Davis writes, “prisons do not disappear social problems, they disappear human beings. Homelessness, unemployment, drug addiction, mental illness, and illiteracy are only a few of the problems that disappear from public view when the human beings contending with them are relegated to cages.” One way of imagining and building a vision of an anti-carceral future is practiced in the Solitary Gardens project here in New Orleans:
The Solitary Gardens are constructed from the byproducts of sugarcane, cotton, tobacco and indigo- the largest chattel slave crops- which we grow on-site, exposing the illusion that slavery was abolished in the United States. The Solitary Gardens utilize the tools of prison abolition, permaculture, contemplative practices, and transformative justice to facilitate exchanges between persons subjected to solitary confinement and volunteer proxies on the “outside.” The beds are “gardened” by prisoners, known as Solitary Gardeners, through written exchanges, growing calendars and design templates. As the garden beds mature, the prison architecture is overpowered by plant life, proving that nature—like hope, love, and imagination—will ultimately triumph over the harm humans impose on ourselves and on the planet.
"Nature" here is constructed in a very particularistic way: as a redemptive force to harness in opposition to the wider oppressive system the architecture of a solitary confinement cell is a part of. It takes a lot of intellectual and political work to construct a counter-hegemonic nature, in other words. Gardeners in this setting strive toward a cultivation of relations antithetical to the isolationist, anti-collective sociality prisons (and in general, a society in which prisons are a permanent feature of crisis resolution) foster.
My interest in NOLA anthropocenics pivots on water, and particularly the ways in which capitalist regimes of value and waste specify, appropriate, and/or externalize forms of water. My research is concerned with water crises more generally, and geographically situated in Flint, Michigan. I thought I could best illustrate these interests with a sampling of photographs from a summer visit to NOLA back in 2017. At the time, four major confederate monuments around the city had just been taken down. For supplemental reading, I'm including an essay from political theorist Adolph Reed Jr. (who grew up in NOLA) that meditates on the long anti-racist struggle that led to this possibility, and flags the wider set of interventions that are urgently required to abolish the landscape of white supremacy.
Flooded street after heavy rains due to failures of city pumping infrastructure.
A headline from the same week in the local press.
Some statues are gone but other monuments remain (this one is annotated).
A Starbucks in Lakeview remembering Katrina--the line signifies the height of the water at the time.
Reading:
Adolph Reed Jr., “Monumental Rubbish” https://www.commondreams.org/views/2017/06/25/monumental-rubbish-statues-torn-down-what-next-new-orleans
P.S. In case the photos don't show up in the post I'm attaching them in a PDF document as well!