Some thoughts on #Occupy

My how the time flies -- it seems like just yesterday I said I would try and write every day. In fact, I proudly proclaimed this to colleagues and friends, that my newest exercise was just sitting down to write every day.

And somehow...

Well, better late than never. The past week was a strange one, for certain. A late night planning meeting with colleagues for the Cascadia Critical Geography conference; a roommate leaving for a 2 month fieldwork stint in Antarctica; dressing up as a farm-raised (insert vegetable or animal here), to get a $2 Halloween inspired Chipotle burrito. Not bad! But also, not many nights at home to sit and write.

Recently, I have definitely felt a tug between getting my work done, finding balance, and staying current in the lives of people near to me, but also more broadly in the incredible social movements sweeping our country right now. I am at a real loss for how to insert myself or contribute to this/these moment(s), and I'm fairly certain that many of my peers feel similarly.

Here's what I know about #Occupy in general, and why I am so excited about it. Here we are, after 3 years of financial crisis, but after 30 years of botched priorities, incredible growth in inequality, and heightened (though arguably less blatant) forms of oppression based on race, class, age, ethnicity, sexuality, gender, able bodies, etc, etc, etc.... And people are finally waking up to all of this, it seems. Yes, the last three years have really focused our nation's frustrations and concerns. But it seems like we won't be able to talk about the current situation without talking about the last three decades. And that is why I'm excited.

Here's what I know about my own actions: I partook in a march, and I'm on a few email / facebook groups. I bring it up in conversation with friends, and we debate and discuss. Sadly, that is all I can claim at the moment. I do not feel inspired or able to go and camp. I do not feel inspired to take a radical approach to this, (probably because, after years of activism, I have firmly recognized and accept the fact that while my politics might be 'radical', I am not radical.)

I know that I defend the Occupy movement in the face of peers who question it: (from a very liberal friend: "I just don't understand. This is dumb: young people, go get a freaking Americorps job. I did. It might not be glamorous, but they're out there." Me: "Um... that's not really what this is about...")

Yet I feel I hardly have the energy to open up each link that is posted to the facebook group for UW scholars with Occupy Seattle, (and there are many. Close to 5 a day.) I certainly don't have the energy to defend my non-radical stance to some that are intimidatingly radical (there is one particular individual who I have never met, but posts to this UW/OS facebook page quite frequently, and his posts alone alienate me). And, more than anything, I don't have the energy or desire or politics to go camp out at Seattle Central.

A new friend of mine last night was on their way to a Queers / Occupy meeting at SCCC. This was their first encounter with the movement head on, and they were a bit nervous, but also resigned to have low expectations. We both reflected on our up-t0-that-point lack, or little, involvement. This friend explained that they, "didn't want to look back on this historic moment and not have gotten involved." I think that is poignant, and makes sense to me. I am just not sure, at this moment, how I can make use of my own (limited) time (and energy), and contribute or stand with the occupiers.

Someone explained to me earlier this week that perhaps just making posters or going to a meeting might feel good. And it might. But in a quarter that involves finishing my fieldwork (a process that is wrapped up in plenty of its own political questions!), trying to find musicians to play with, trying to cook a lot of eat healthy, train for my first running race, take on extra grading, enjoy the fruits that seattle has to offer, TA, take on extra grading, begin the public scholarship program, apply for NSF funding, cultivate current and new friendships, take part in a graduate interest group, play IM volleyball, serve as grad student co-president, . . . . well. It just doesn't leave me a bounty of time, nor would I want to give up any of these things. They are all intentional uses of my time and energy, because I know that they actually prolong, sustain, and nurture my best self.

And right now, #occupyseattle seems like it would drain and damper that self.

* interestingly, as I finish up this post, I find it worth nothing that #OS hasn't come up in our public scholarship conversations at ALL. We did discuss it once in the GIG planning meeting, as a way to engage a very current, ever-changing public. But that is it.

On defining publics

I left last week's public scholarship meeting feeling dismayed. I had been told that in describing and reading aloud my reflections on 'my publics', that I seemed to be envisioning my publics in two ways: an organizational public and a representational public.

Which left me thinking, "What the fuck?"

This was voiced by a professor trained in Cultural Studies and the Humanities, which use very different language than us social scientists. I asked for clarification, which unfortunately didn't help much. I wondered, "how am I supposed to articulate my thoughts for this class when I don't even understand the language being used?" So, I sought out some fellow geographers who went through the public scholarship program last year. We met for lunch today, and discussed many of the confusing points and areas of tension.

Amongst other things, this wonderful discussion time got me feeling slightly more confident about how to articulate my thoughts and direction for public scholarship. One peer reminded me that the language and angst arising out of cultural studies about public scholarship doesn't appear as much with geographers, because, well, we've been working with 'publics' for as long as there has been fieldwork! Cultural studies on the other hand has traditionally been much more theoretical and less focused on working with communities and public groups.

What this means for me as a public scholar is that I need to use language I feel comfortable with, rather than trying to apply my research interests and values through cultural studies language (no offense, cultural studies. you've done good work. i just don't get the vernacular).

I now recognize that defining myself as a public scholar is as much about how I articulate the value I see in my work as it is about fitting into specific language of 'publics/audiences'.

Another point of discussion related back to good ole' Laura Pulido, and her discussion of reciprocity. One of my colleagues was explaining their history of doing service work with local organizations, and that they pulled artifacts from this work to put in their portfolio. While not traditionally considered 'scholarship', this colleague and I both take Pulido's lead: sometimes, it doesn't matter what we as scholars want to do. If an organization needs help phone banking or filing, then do that! We don't always have to exert our 'expert knowledge' (if we even have it!). These engagements with community organizations and publics are a first step in a series of iterations of scholarship and identity as a public scholar. How can we begin to engage with an organization if we do not have rapport, common interests, and shared goals? This must begin somewhere, and it is often through these less professional, less structured encounters that we begin to see the greatest contradictions, tensions, interesting questions, etc.

So, while all of us lamented the fact that many of our colleagues in the CPS program had *worlds* more experience when it came to Public Scholarship (think: teaching college classes behind bars, curating museum shows, organizing oral history projects, writing for and collaborating with local social justice movements, starting collectives on campus...), we also have things to contribute. There is a) no one way to define public scholarship (so maybe we should stop trying); and b) everyone can articulate their own identity as a public scholar however they see fit.

This left me feeling far more comfortable with the new assignment, which is to draft a framing essay for our portfolio. Translation: I need to explain and frame the work that I have done, and plan to do, which will demonstrate my work as a public scholar. At the end of my studies, this portfolio should capture the way that I've engaged with the 'public', both in collaborative forms, and as audiences. So, at this point, I need to think about how I articulate the value of my work, the direction I plan to head, and what experiences and work has positioned me where I am now.

To my colleagues, thank you for your words of encouragement. Yes, it felt a bit motherly at times, but that is excellent. This is an incredibly iterative process, and it doesn't help that I'm trying to do this as I also apply for NSF funding, do my fieldwork, and think about how I will write my thesis. ::takes deep breath:: It will all happen with time!