Fieldnote_0426_Naluwan_Annabelle
This week, we went to Naluwan to make some cute handicrafts with the elderly.
Analysis on this artifact
abanelleloo.hk11Annotation of
In response to
I think that this is interestingly written and an interesting comparison between your own experiences in Singapore and the Naluwan grandma. What do you think can be applied to your final piece of work from this fieldnote? Do you think that your experiences in Singapore has shaped you to think differently and feel differently from an Amis person living in Naluwan?
FIELDNOTE_ 0419_NALUWAN_ANNABELLE
When I sat down with my Ahma, she brought out a few stacks of photos from the past.
Fieldnote_ 0415_Naluwan_Annabelle
This Saturday was truly an unforgettable experience – I felt like the past few times that I've gone to the tribe were on a more superficial level since we only got to chat with the Ahmas for very s
Fieldnote_0412_Naluwan_ANNABELLE
At the tribe, I talked to the same Ahmas (grandmas) again. This time, we got to see some photographs from the past.
Fieldnote_0329_Naluwan_ANNABELLE
We sat in groups with some elderly from the Amis tribe in the activity center, and I had the opportunity to sit with a pair of sisters and their close friend.
Fieldnote_0221_Naluwan_ANNABELLE
COMMUNITY WALKING
COVID-19 Rapid Student Interview Project
This project aims to provide an engaging project for post-secondary students (undergraduate and graduate) to gain experience with qualitative research methodology while contributing to public
Elena Sobrino: anti-carceral anthropocenics
elenaAnnotation of
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.
This is an artwork created by the Naluwan people. Seems to me that it's a statue of a person pointing in a specific direction. I'm not sure if the person is pointing toward the sea.