Downtown Ladies from Massey's Satellite

Ulysse's description of the experience of the ICIs in Miami provides an excellent example of a complicated rethinking of place, especially "small places." Downtown Ladies captures the minutia of ICI daily interactions from their homes, to their local markets, to Miami, using individual lives to exemplify how the experience of "time-space compression" is influenced by race, class, and gender. There is no place, no people that exists in a vacuum, requiring "a sense of place, an understanding of 'its character', which can only be constructed by linking that place to places beyond," (Massey 9). Ulysse excels at producing this concept of a place that is "absolutely not static...do not have boundaries in the sense of divisions which frame simple enclosures...do not have single, unique 'identities'...none of this denies place nor the importance of the uniqueness of place...continually reproduced, but not a specificity which results from some long, internalized history," (Massey 8). This is in part due to her highly mobile subjects of study, which require her to analyze the local and the global, but moreso do to her determination to include her own experiences as part of her study, and consideration of the larger forces at play (racism, classism, sexism) that determine various performances of both the ICIs and herself (tuffness, wardrobe). Ulysse's assertion that, "On a daily basis, local-global relations are nothing but intersubjective encounters that are in a constant state of flux," may as well have been paraphrased directly from Massey (Ulysse 212). This agreement of Ulysse and Massey reminded me of Kincaid's Small Place, and her characterization of Antigua as somewhat stagnant, stuck in the legacy and fantasy of "England", still enslaved to the history of emancipation like it happened yesterday, watching events as they happen. On the one hand, Kincaid captures Antigua's collapse of time and space through its continued relationship to other places through tourism and corruption; on the other, it rejects this flux through the characterization of the tourist's Antigua and that of the Antiguans, and in particular, the Antiguans' apparent lack of mobility physically and historically.

Downtown Laides Fashion

Chapter 7 of the Downtown Ladies reads of different types of fashion and the connotations of those fashions. Ulysse writes of different styles of fashion in Jamaica. Ulysse's equates a persons fashion to the where they may fall on the scale of whiteness. She writes of her experiences with her own fashion and molding into certain fashion stereotypes to be able to function in day to day life.

After visiting Cuba and in relation to this chapter in the book, I find that wanting to have flashy clothing is common among lower income individuals. While in Cuba, after talking with new Cuban friends, they all seemed to have jewelry, a flashy shirt, or shoes that stood out. It would never be an outfit as  a whole that looked expensive but rather single items. Ulysse seems to be experiencing the same thing in Jamaica. I even asked one of my Cuban friends why everyone seemed to have a gold necklace or the women big gold earrings and he responded by telling me that people will save up months maybe years to get those things because it makes them feel better. It is a statement that they have achieved something that the next person has not.

In Ulysse's section, "Making a statement", she writes of an incident at the bank. She writes of having trouble with the teller giving her money because of the way she is dressed. She writes, "After getting through her, the teller took one disapproving look at me in my gym shorts and T-shirt to say that it was not possible for me to make withdrawal, as this is not my branch" (229). In that moment, Ulysse is being stripped of her identity because of the way that she is dressed. Ulysse is saying, identity is marked by the appearance of an individual. Like in the story of the women at the funerals, they are defined as being inappropriate therefore their grief for the deceased is now marked as in genuine or not as legitimate. It reminds me of rape culture and the idea that if a girl dresses a certain way, she was asking to be sexually assaulted. In this situation that Ulysse describes, the women are being described as inappropriate and then not taken seriously, when in reality they are just imitating what they believe to be whiteness.

Response..

In our department we often theorize positionality and intersectionality as it relates to women living in a Westernized society.  Each week in this class we are reminded of this, and are challenged to relinquish this perspective when analyzing the readings. This week I was able to do so in regards to the complexities of space and solidarity. What I knew about space prior to reading Massey solely reflected my subjectivity as an African American woman. In an effort to bring attention to the ways in which race and gender complicate space in my life, I did not realize that I negated the way class does also. How so? Let me explain. Throughout this semester I have used our blogging assignments as public displays of reflexivity in regards to the time I have spent studying abroad. I have spoken about the ways in which my race and gender have allowed me to navigate certain spaces to both my advantage and detriment. I did not however think about the way class does as well. During moments of discomfort I was reassured knowing they would be short lived. I knew that when we left Cuba or the DR that I would go back to using my electronics, drinking water out of the faucet, taking a hot shower, and having the luxury of eating whenever I desired. Even abroad I had that luxury for the most part, but there were other Black women navigating those same spaces that didn’t. Massey states:

 For different social groups and different individuals are placed in very distinct ways in relation to these flows and interconnections. This point concerns not merely the issue of who moves and who doesn’t, although that is an important element of it; it is also about power in relation to the flows and movement. Different social groups have distinct relationships to this anyway differentiated mobility: some are in charge of it more than others; some initiate flows and movement, others don’t; some are more on the receiving end of it than others; some are effectively imprisoned by it (Massey 3).

As a Black middle class American, I am generally never imprisoned by space in the same way that let’s say Ms. Tiny or Ms. B was. Although I too live in a racialized patriarchal society, I do not have to navigate a gendered work space through a veil of toughness to survive violence and harassment. At least not at the moment, nor have I ever to that degree. I have literally gotten through customs without having to document certain items (I definitely should have) because people don’t perceive me as a trickster or societal nuisance due to my occupation. I guess what I am trying to say is that although we all participate in globalization whether it be as the consumer or as a distributor, it is obvious that it disproportionately affects certain groups of people more than others. It is not enough for me to acknowledge the commonalities of Black women, without also acknowledging the different ways in which we navigate certain spaces.

            I really appreciated Mohanty for her perspective on solidarity as it relates to women workers. Until now I had never heard the term “culture of subversion”, and how it is essentially acquired practice in “concealed forms of rebelling”. The Korean Women’s Workers association did an amazing job of using a site of oppression (factory) as a site of resistance, and how in various other places women did the same. Through the “culture of subversion” alone, I can see an entry point in how women who are also enduring similar conditions in America can create solidarity with other women in the “Third World”.

Mohanty, Ulysse, and Massey

"Violence is a gendered concept, an integral part of local definitions of masculinity in Jamaica" (Ulysse, chapter 6). This quote is central to the understanding and interpretation of the violence that Ulysee witnesses and experiences during her time as an ethnographer in Jamaica, especially as it pertains to her study of the ICIs. Shortly after making this initial statement, Ulysse also explains that "Whereas masculinity is realized through the gun, female tuffness is expressed through embodiment of protective shields." Given our previous discussion of the lady/woman dichotomy, and the implications of the female workers' lack of femininity, I found this quote to be particularly pertinent. The womens' defiance of traditional gender roles necessitates this tough exterior as they are subjected to the violence of men, and yet, it is interesting to consider how women are simultaneously shamed for their supposed lack of adherence to these gender roles.

Chapter 6 in Mohanty's text, in which she explores various labor forces made up of women and how the circumstances of their labor environment "indicate ways in which ideologies of domesticity, femininity, and race from the basis of the construction of the notion of 'women's work' for Third World women in the contemporary economy" (Mohanty ch. 6), ties in directly with Ulysse's work. Women's work, and the hardships associated with social concepts like the second shift and domestic work, is further complicated due to this politicization. Mohanty's studies of women in the labor force reflects the work of Ulysse in that the value of both the women and the work are brought into question by society. Mohanty also points out that in order for women's work to be respected, the whole idea that some work belongs to women while "serious" work belongs to men should be obliterated. While gendered work is already a problematic concept, the analysis of gendered work at the intersection of class and race compounds the issue.

Ulysse explains in chapter 5 the differences between the masculinization versus the feminization of poverty, and the way violence relates to these two concepts. According to Ulysse, the masculinization of poverty is explicitly linked to violence, especially in relation to drugs and gun usage. This has been an issue for the Jamaican men surrounding the drug market. However, the feminization of poverty is one which implies a lack of masculine presence, therefore leaving women more vulnerable to male violence when the issue of class is also added in. This is why, as Ulysse explains later on, the tough exterior must be adopted by the female ICI workers. It is interesting to consider gendered work and the lower value placed on this women's work, but Mohanty and Ulysse require analysis through the lens of race and class as well. Both make the conclusion that the hardships faced by women in roles such as ICI workers, the lacemakers, and the Silicon Valley workers can potentially foster a sense of solidarity.

On a different note, the Massey article brought to mind the film we viewed in class about tourism in Jamaica, especially the following quote: "We need to ask, in other words, whether our relative mobility and power over mobility and communication entrenches the spatial imprisonment of other groups" (Massey 4). I found this relevant to our discussion of remaining conscious of our impact as tourists, and the issue of keeping in mind how and why we accomplish our studies while abroad. Massey constructs a compelling argument using examples of time-space compression and the imagery of floating above Earth as an outside observer on a space craft to make her point. I thought this was an effective way of getting across the message of inequality she seems to be exemplifying through her article.

Response

ICIs move through space as gendered and racialized bodies, and they face very similar threats and challenges whether they are in Kingston or Miami. After reading Ulysse and seeing the end of the film last week, I’m tempted to say they face a much higher threat of violence in Jamaica—especially in downtown Kingston—but do they really? Is the violence just more out in the open there, or is it actually a more violent place? The tendency to envision the U.S. as a safe haven, and the fact that it isn’t necessarily so makes me question whether it’s really any safer here for a black person, regardless of gender. Isn’t the performance of “tuffness”, on some level, universal for lower class women, who have to navigate spaces middle and upper class ladies do not, and especially so for black women? Ulysse describes the tuffness the women of downtown must embody, referring to it as “protective shields.” It’s a distinctly unfeminine performance, which further pushes these women away from the status of “lady.”

            Massey discusses the way fears about time-space compression tend to represent a Western, colonizer’s perspective intrigued me not only because many white Americans probably never think about the way “American culture” is exported to other countries and simply accept or assume that it’s the dominant or most desirable culture, but also because, by importing clothes and products (brands?) popular in the U.S., the ICIs are also importing American culture—or at least, aspects of it. According to Ulysse, they buy and sell what the customers want. Their primary concerns are getting a good deal on what they buy and getting a good profit on what they sell. Nikes sell, apparently, but why do they sell? And how do Jamaicans incorporate American clothing/brands into their own styles of dress and presentation—which obviously changes depending on class and location.

            Massey asserts that place and community are not necessarily linked, that is, being in the same place does not automatically create a community, and places are experienced differently by those in them. The ICIs clearly have a community, and I wonder how much of that has to do with place. They are, it seems, pretty much all in the same place or traveling to and from the same places. Some of them travel together. They sell near or next to one another. It seems, from Ulysee’s descriptions, that experiencing the same places has helped develop their sense of community. Massey also says that “mobility and control over mobility, both reflects and reinforces power,” which I think supports the idea that ICIs are a threat to the established order. Their movement in and out of various countries, between “the cracks”, at times, across class lines, and across the line between the informal and formal economy (those few who are or have been particularly successful, the ones who have opened stores, etc.) makes the boundaries of race, class, and gender appear unfixed.

            ICIs are not wage laborers or wage workers, but rather, they chose to enter their trade as a way of escaping the constraints of wage labor. They accept that not all of them can be successful, and many stay in the trade despite not being particularly successful (by not particularly, I mean, they don’t seem to become wealthy) because it’s better than working for someone else. But because their activities are labeled “informal”, doesn’t that make them non-workers? I’m actually unsure how to link or apply Mohanty’s chapter to them because they aren’t doing “invisible” work in their homes, being pushed into a “temporary” worker category in a factory, or doing unpaid labor in a family business.

            

Rethinking the small place

This week’s readings on space and place made me recall a quote from Jamaica Kincaid’s “A Small Place” where she laments that people in such places “cannot see themselves in a larger picture” or “part of a chain of something, anything” (52). I find that Mohanty’s and Massey’s work complicate Kincaid’s desire for Third World women workers to see themselves and their lives as part of a global world order.

Massey challenges the common conception of place as a bounded, unchanged, and largely historical location. Instead she argues that place should be understood as “constructed out of a particular constellation of social relations, meeting and weaving together at a particular locus” (7). This means that places are made and remade by the interactions of people in various social, economic, and political contexts. Such a definition of place helps us to understand how capitalist relations can constitute place. Sometimes community – that is, a sense of security, responsibility, and linked destiny with others – is forged out of these relations, but not always. I think Mohanty tries to lay out a framework for how we can create community based on the social relations that Third World women workers all have in some form in the global capitalist world order. Nevertheless, she warns against Western feminisms that use notions of commonality to flattened out differences among women by assuming “ahistorical notions of the common experience, exploitation, or strength of Third World women or between Third and First World women” (3033 Kindle).

Seeing one’s small place as “part of a chain of something” (e.g. global capitalism) is a crucial starting point for political organization among Third World women workers. But as Mohanty warns, it is a view that must be tempered with recognition and respect for the differences in colonial history, race, class, and familial configurations among women around the world.

Place, Community, & Identity

     This week’s readings intertwined the themes of place, community, and identity that I didn’t quite expect. In Massey’s “Global Sense of Place,” she breaks down what it even means to use the word “place” and treats it as an active process that practically possesses a life of its own. She asks, “Is it not possible for a sense of place to be progressive; not self-closing and defensive, but outward-looking?”(1). Massey ultimately concludes that this is not quite possible, especially since the time-space compression of movement and communication is largely controlled by the West. This is significant because Massey acknowledges that capital influences the decisions of time-space compression, but then asks about race and gender. Here, Ulysse would argue that race and gender are their own forms of capital that individuals possess and utilize (or are unable to utilize) for the purpose of social movement.

            Here, of course, we are not talk about just individuals, but specifically non-white, Third World women laborers, and even more specifically, ICI’s in Jamaica. “After all, women’s labor has always been central to the development, consolidation, and reproduction of capitalism in the United States and elsewhere" (Mohanty 146). This reproduction of capitalism in the “elsewhere” of Jamaica, Ulysse argues, results in these women being both invisible yet highly visible, and although their movement along the race and class continuums change according to their physical location, their social and political positioning stays the same. For example, her visible status as a traveling ICI subjects her to stereotypes and scapegoating, thus rendering her invisible both as a black woman and a business woman. As a result of her physical visibility, she is required to register as an ICI and pay duties on the goods that she brings back to Jamaica, yet this policy does nothing to help her, thus marking invisibility yet again. The ironies of the ICIs’ (in)visibility continually plague her existence. Massey points to this when discussing the effects of time-space compression: “…some [social groups] are effectively imprisoned by it [power and mobility]” (3). It is apparent that the ability to physically move does not signify complete agency over one’s societal perception and personal and/or business dealings, so perhaps there needs to be a redefinition of “social mobility” in reference to its current use.

            From these discussions of places and identities, there emerged questions about community. Massey asks if community can really exists and ultimately says no because places and people are too dynamic. Contrastly, Mohanty asserts that building community is “a form of survival” (163). Whether or not community actually exists or seems to exist, the question for me becomes is it necessary? With respect to ICI’s specifically, they exist both within and without the bounds of raced, classed, and gendered identities. They consistently move between positive and negative ideological notions of their profession depending on their physical location, and considering all of their hardship and obstacles, they remain fiercely independent; they exert tuffness, do not sell to personal friends or family for fear of ruining relationships, travel alone, and build a surface-level community with their customers so that they will keep buying from them. They are outspoken, loud, and very intelligent, so perhaps I am asking myself again, is community necessary? Ulysse herself knows that out-of-placeness can result in loneliness, for she is both “regional native and local outsider” (113). Perhaps Ulysse addresses this in chapter six, which I have not finished yet, but for the most part, it seems that in this manner, ICI’s experience the utmost version of duality: they exist as a monolithic, collective whole (hundreds vending in one area, one stereotype “true” for all in customs, etc.) yet remain fiercely individualistic, vending so that they can have a better life for themselves and their families only. Monhanty's solution to this would be to organize and revolt, but the risks involved in this might be too great for the ICI's. Does the perception of social mobility, then, marr the reality of one's ability to make longlasting change? This is not to suggest that ICI's are not aware of their oppression as a group, but perhaps they do not want to risk asking or demanding for much more if they feel they are fortunate to be able to do what they do. 

Downtown Ladies - 2

I am again astounded by the complexity of Uylsse’s study. It is interesting to see how in this reading she incorporates into her study an elaboration of the characteristics of class and gender as they relate to both women and men. Of course, I understand that you cannot have one without the other, but she steps beyond the interactions that exist between women and men and includes the interactions between each gender as they confront structural limitations via their interactions with the state and economy, and ultimately the side effects of globalization. She refers to this as “the masculinization” and “the feminization of poverty” (p. 167). The connections between violence and the drug trade are most illuminating, for instance.

As Ulysse explains, ICIs have maintained an adaptive response to the death of their national economy: they are extremely resourceful in the ways they attempt to maintain personal autonomy and secure a livelihood for their families through their trading. However, across the island, an increasingly feminized (and hence low-wage) workforce leads to an enormous amount of unemployed men. This has been both a cause and an effect of the growth of new entrepreneurs who have contributed to the saturation of the trading market. One side effect she describes is the way that both men and women have been sucked into drug trafficking. The result is that men, for instance, become key players in the act of trafficking, which has brought with it an explosion of violence. ICIs, meanwhile, experience tighter state restrictions and more surveillance because of the existing sexist and classist stereotypes that surround the ICI (‘rude girl’, lower-class, etc.).

So the irony here, of course, is that rises in unemployment and increased trading have led to a growing drug trade. And the state has successfully cracked down the hardest on those individuals who are frequently innocent merely because they also happen to be the most ‘visible.’ Meanwhile, the invisible ICIs, who are often middle to upper middle class, or those who do not rely on the trade to secure the livelihood of their families, go undisturbed and relatively unhindered by the regulations and searches that afflict the visible. Of course, while the state persistently comes down upon the only organized group of folks they can get their hands on, it simultaneously (and ironically) fails to acknowledge the benefits that the ICIs have provided to the state. That is, as the state has completely failed its people by selling off the local economy to the lowest international bidder, the ICIs have provided just enough stability (by coming up with provisions when the state could not, by meeting the economic and commerce needs of the people, etc.) to keep the public from altogether overthrowing their government.

And amazingly, throughout all of this, with all of the poverty and economic and political upheaval, the ICIs are still capable of maintaining an egalitarian perspective on their state of their trade. Even though new competition saturates the market and threatens the individuals who have made a life as an ICI, they remain relatively open to the idea that new people should enter the field because they have a right to try to make a decent life for themselves

A Global Local Feminism

The combination of readings this week spelled out a number of issues concerning place, space, travel, personal agency and mobility. Reading Downtown Ladies first, the issues of space and place were detailed by Ulysse and the women she worked with. Then, reading Chapter 6 of Mohanty's book, i understood the ways in which labor, production, and the capitalist/imperialist categorizations of those labels are gendered and racialized in ways that oppress women of color. Finally, reading Massey's piece, the understanding of race and gender and how they relate and interact and uphold - in some instances - structures of power became evident once again.

The last paragraph of Massey's article exclaims "It is a sense of place, an understanding of 'its character', which can only be constructed by linking that place to places beyond. A progressive sense of place would recognize that, without being threatened by it. What we need, it seems to me, is a global sense of the local, a global sense of place." 
This quote especially showed, what i feel that Mohanty was trying to get at - that being, that for a transnational feminism, for a feminism without borders in which we position ourselves and other women, this type of global/local understanding is necessary. Mohanty challenges the localized ideas of feminisms to do what Massey points out - that is, to have a global sense of place. As Mohanty points out: "...i am suggesting that Third World women workers have a potential identity in common, an identity as workers in a particular division of labor at this historical moment. And i believe that exploring and analyzing this potential commonality across geographical and cultural divides provides both a way of reading and understanding the world and an explanation of the consolidation of inequities of gender, class, and (hetero)sexuality, which are necessary to envision and enact transnational feminist solidarity." (p. 144) Here, i can see the linkage between the two writers, who are trying to broaden our scopes of what is and is not local. When we are dressed in clothing from at least 3 different countries, and eating foods from all over the world (as Massey points out), we have to understand that no part of our local is necessarily in actuality "local". We are living on a global scale and with the global effecting our lives on a very tangible and real level. Moreover, we are also effecting the lives of others.

The issues detailed in chapters 5 & 6 of Downtown Ladies were reiterated in Massey's statements about travel. "Different social groups have distinct relationships to this anyway differentiated mobility: some people are more in charge of it than others; some initiate flows and movement, others don't; some are more on the receiving end of it than others; some are effectively imprisoned by it. ... But there are also groups who are also doing a lot of physical moving, but who are not 'in charge' of the process in the same way at all." The ICI's and Ulysse travelling to Miami showcases this issue of travel perfectly - although they are travelling to another country, they are doing so more out of a sense of survival than leisure. Further, on the film Life + Debt that we watched in class, we can see how Chinese workers were brought into Jamaica to work on the Free-Trade Zone. Thus, also, is travel, but certainly not on the same level as that of Western jetsetters who travel for leisure or even for education.

And those of us that do travel, even for educational purposes, have to understand, maybe on some level, how our mobility lessens that of another woman (or man) in another part of the world. An example that makes plain this issue is one I've read about in some African countries. An issues exists whereby African Americans, who have chosen to live permanently (or long-term temporarily) in African countries are practically handed jobs upon their arrival. The fact of speaking English (with an American accent), and being a foreigner from the West elevates ones status, regardless of one's qualifications. There are instances in which someone with a general Associate's degree in liberal arts may be handed a job within economics that requires a Master's degree for a local African born and raised in the area. So, many high-level positions may be occupied by individuals who know very little about the job. More importantly, they end up taking the job away from someone who is qualified for the job, who continues to be unemployed. This shows how our mobility and travel to other countries diminishes another's abilities.

On another note, it is always refreshing to read a work of Black feminist writing that references heavily other works by other Black feminist, or just women of color (feminist or not). For me, it separates those who speak about feminist practice and those who do it. I also found it interesting that Ulysse states when an anthropologist or writer she references is white ("According to white anthropologist Elisa Sobo..." on page 186 and again on 220). I'm not completely sure why she does this, but I believe it is to put statements and ideas into contexts. As a Black feminist anthropologist, she is trying to show how important it is to situate oneself within anthropology, in their fieldwork, and within their academic positions. I believe she states their color in order to actively show that she is not the only one whose positionality is of importance - we have to reconstruct the position of the anthropologist in order to truly understand their statements, ideas, and bodies of work. Again, it shows beautifully how she practices feminism and doesn't simply talk about it in her works.

Ulysse and Mohanty:Two Sides of the Same Coin

In response to the class, color, and gender codes in the struggles of women workers in a capitalist society, both Chandra Mohanty and Gina Ulysse essentially argue two sides of the same coin. Both women reveal the consequences of gendered, classed, and raced work of third world women in a capitalist arena. While Ulysse underscores the hypervisibility of ICIs, Mohanty highlights the invisibility of lace-makers, electronics workers, and migrant workers in Britain, both of which result in the exploitation and undervaluing of women’s labor.

As Ulysse describes throughout the text, the hypervisibility of the ICIs leave them susceptible to many damaging stereotypes. They are considered unladylike for numerous reasons, including because they work in the public arena as opposed to in the household. They are masculinized as lesbians, deemed “social pariahs,” and are relegated to the margins since they work, travel, and often stay together. Similarly, although they have been socialized to do so, the ICI’s are characterized as “naturally tough” (Ulysse 187). The toughness of the black superwoman, as Ulysse calls it, is “demonized precisely because it is a form of active agency that is seen as a theft of a naturally masculine prerogative” (189). All of these stereotypes undermine the value of the labor that the ICIs perform.

Mohanty, on the other hand, seeks to interrogate the opposite of Ulysse’s concerns—the invisibility of third world women workers. The examples of the lace makers in Narsapur and the electronics workers in the Silicon Valley posit the opposition of the definitions for “laborer” and “housewife,”  in effect defining the women as non-workers. The women workers in Narsapur defined their lace making as “housework” as opposed to wage work because it was produced in the space of the home. Therefore, their labor was viewed as a leisure activity and hence, the women were seen as non-workers. Likewise, the characterizations of the electronics workers in the Silicon Valley as mothers and wives, and secondary to male workers, demonstrates the repression of women’s work in contemporary global capitalism.

Both of these authors uncover the consequences of women workers as hypervisible or invisible. Mohanty’s principles of searching for “common interests” and “practicing solidarity” and Ulysse’s ideas of “self-making” and “reflexive political economy” both point to ways in which women workers can reclaim their agency as workers and laborers. One step in the right direction that both authors seem to agree on is the importance of organization. As Mrs. B. states, “We have to organize ourselves and come back. Some will go but some will fight” (Ulysse 209). This is the same conclusion that Irna, a woman worker in the Silicon Valley points to, “...The only way to get a little measure of power over your own life is to do it collectively, with the support of other people who share your needs” (Mohanty 139). Organization can ultimately provide a basis for a revolution.

Space and Place. Gender and Race (and Class).

Doreen Massey begins her essay by referencing Marx’s idea of “the annihilation of space by time" (1) This idea suggests that globalization has constructed lines of greater connectivity, allowing for almost instantaneous communication with people all across the globe and access to information and knowledge, while seeming to eliminate the spaces between. My first instinct was to ask, “how interconnected are we really?” or "how much of an “annihilation of space by time” has occurred"? The reason these questions popped into my head is because we certainly have greater access to knowledge and information about events around the world. This past summer, we felt frustrated or enraged about the Michael Brown's death and police brutality in Ferguson while following the mindless destruction of life in the Israel-Palestinian conflict. At the same time, some of "us" Westerners get to sit back, removed from these events by the sheer vastness of space, and the distance from place. “We” can observe from a distance what is happening “over there,” while being “grateful” that “that” isn’t happening to “us”. I would say that this is a matter of privilege when "we" get to choose to be connected and when "we" can be detached. 

Massey addresses the issues surrounding place and space, where both have been seen as static and/or as reactionary when compared to time. Her examples include space/place being connected to a "rise of defensive and reactionary responses such as nationalism and offense taken to the influx of newcomers and outsides" to a supposedly homogeneous community/city/country (2). Massey suggests instead that there is a positive politics surrounding space, especially when we look beyond capitalisms development of space. "Blaming" capitalism for all the problems involving space and place is a similar rhetorical device as blaming the patriarchy for all oppression felt by all oppressed groups. Capitalism may have allowed us to draw new lines and networks across the globe, but gender, race and class must be considered as having an effect on mobility, space and place. Using the often-felt experiences of gendered or racialized bodies moving through space, Massey shows that these experiences of limited mobility, violence, and surveillance is not solely influenced by capitalism and capital (2). Other factors influence how these bodies feel moving through public spaces.  I think it is easy to erase or ignore the political weight of space/place. I think that it is easy to mistaken our movement as through a void, rather than understanding that certain spaces are infused with a certain type of politics, as well as constraints and surveillance. The “public” by its very nature is always “political”. We only need to look outside the window to see that gendered and racialized bodies have an extremely hard time moving (and are controlled when trying to move) through public, political spaces.

What Massey contributes to this instinctual/intuitive understanding of (my) movement and relation to space and place is this concept of power geometry of the time-space compression. “It goes beyond who moves and who doesn’t (although that’s an extremely important part of it), but also includes power in relation to the flows and the movement. Different social groups have distinct relationships to this anyway differentiated mobility”(3). Speaking in terms of “differentials” some groups have much control and mobility in their position of power. Others add to the global cultural marketplace while never leaving the space that they inhabit because they don’t have the material and financial capacity for mobility. Still others are inundated by the global flows and processes despite residing in a very particular place.  Massey shows us that “mobility and control over mobility, both reflects and reinforces power” (4).  Some people can exercises power through their mobility while simultaneously weakening the leverage of mobility of others.  I thought the great example of this is the movement from shipping to air travel. This change in travel changes the nodes and networks between places. Islands in the Pacific now go untouched because of the limitation or elimination of shipping routes, where these islands were once “outposts” of trade and travel. Now they are bypassed and ignored because the flows have changed. 

Although I am very much convinced by Massey's thesis, I question Massey’s understanding of power. Even though I understand her point about how the “mobility of some groups can undermine the power of others,” does power always reflect this sort of zero-sum game, and does it have to? If we democratize or popularize one form of mobility, is there a decline in the other types? In writing out this question, I would say yes and no. I think of suburbanization in the 1950s and 1960s in the United States and how we’ve moved away from public transport to driving around in private, personal cars. Clearly there’s a class disparity with this (ex. who can afford privatized transportation), but it also detracts from funds allocated to maintain and improve the public transportation systems in place. In this way, Massey’s idea of power geometry is on point. However, I can’t get away from a Foucauldian understanding of power—that power is relational, that it is not just repressive but also productive. People and groups are not solely being limited or repressed by those who have power through mobility. I would like to think that these same groups also have productive and reproductive power in these mobility differentials, but I'm not quite sure what this looks like.

To help explain what I mean, I think that this would be a good time to bring in Ch. 5-6 of Gina Ulysse’s Downtown Ladies. I was particularly struck by how the ICIs move through the spaces of downtown Kingston and patriarchal, misogynistic society and the creation of “tuffness” (Ulysse, 182). “Tuffness” is the exterior and façade that the ICIs had to display in order to move through public space and the arcade. With heightened violence in Jamaica in the 1980s, 90s, and 00s, this is a response of survival, so that these women can be free of the day to day violence and harassment brought on by men. The survival mechanism is also class, race and gender based. However, I found Ulysse’s reflections not only on how the ICIs moved through space and how Ulysse experienced this cultural difference inspiring, having been brought up in the United States. It appeared as though this assertive, tuff exterior was a common practice among these women, and (from Ulysse’s telling) it appeared to have a tangible effect. I think about the double bind I feel when confronting street harassment as a female body. I’ve several options and none of them seem like effective choices: (1) ignore it, (2) confront it, or (3) awkwardly laugh it off, although I don’t think this is a viable third option. I’m particularly moved by the ICIs as they have been able to establish, in their own way, a way to curtail the violences committed against them by performing this tuffness (which is simultaneously a performance of non-femininity). However, I’m far from saying that this performance is the best way of confronting violence against women—it places responsibility in the hands of the victim or oppressed person. Through these two chapters, I clearly see the many different levels of control and surveillance that are exercised upon the ICIs and their movement both within and outside of the country. Rather the point I’d like to make is that this tuffness has productive power, which may not transcend social and cultural norms. No, it hasn’t deconstructed the corrupt and violent practices of a patriarchal and misogynistic society, and Ulysse argues that it reinforces the stereotype and naturalization of the “black superwoman” and the “tough black woman” (160). I think what it does do is challenge dominant notions of femininity, while also curtailing and controlling the responses by men through the signs and symbols displayed by these women.

To further unpack the idea of space and place, I move to Chapter 6, where Ulysse discusses how the bodies and business of the ICIs becomes the site of control whenever violence and, more recently, the illicit drug trade erupts. Rather than look to the gangs supported by political parties or the middle-class groups that are predominately helping funnel drugs into the country, the ICIs become the first group to be limited, controlled and surveilled. They are the first to be denied access to their work, because the state constructs them as “the enemy” and “the problem”. 

The cat calls from the construction workers on the street; the constant effort you put on to become invisible to a man gawking at you; male violence... all of these things were addressed and dissected so brilliantly by Gina Ulysse. She expertly weaves together race, class, and gender, and how it affects everyday life of not only for the ICI, bu also for people in general. 

Even though Ulysse's focus was on Jamaica, the things that she points out are relevant to the world,. Her stance on male violence was both enlightening and mind jarring. I say jarring because the male violence that we hear of all-too-often is yet another effect of a patriachal, paternalistic system. Ulysse says "violence is a gendered concept, an integral part of local defintion of masculinity in Jamaica" (Ulysse, 180).  In a society where physcial strength is masculine, masculinity is power, and things like money and the color of your skin are class symbols, lower class, black males have little to no power in this world. The only way to validate their masculinty is through brute force; thats the only way to keep their manhood in tact since money and skin color is not in their favor. 

Misogyny in the black male population is, again, the effect of this system. Black men are not born into high class, and are not white, so they immdiately are stripped of power. The one thing that is truly taught to them is how to be physcially strong (Sports, fighting, etc...); this is the way to be a man. Being that this a power driven society, men were stripped of this upon birth, and now, the only way to have the slightest power is to physically dominate one another, and black women.

So, where is the black woman in all of this? She is the "property"  (Ulysse, 180) of power hungry men. She has to maintain her "toughness" (183); her hard shield of protection that she began to build at a young age. This emotional wall is the black woman's way of accepting the position in which society has placed her , and coping with repeated abuses from their male counterparts. Toughness is a class symbol (183). Higher class, lighter skin women do not possess this characteristic. The interesting thing is that this "toughness" that black women possess is seen as natural. No, it is a response to a society that has placed her at the bottom of humanity. Black women live in multiple identities: One to survive the streets, one to take care of her family, and one to be a loving wife. She is simply trying to deal with the cards that have been dealt her; but, do not assume that black women are born to be "tough." Black women are made to be tough, and abandon the pain, shame, and ridicule that attacks her on a day-to-day basis.  

This is how America is America, and basically how the world operates; Some are the stepping stones to others upward mobililty. In this "democratic," patriarchal, paternalistic, misogynisitc system that we live by, there would be no success, no "high class" if it was not for the convenient leverage provided from the lower-class; and this is the crux of our societies' problem. 

Downtown Ladies is an enlightening book about the stereotypes that are placed upon women in Jamaica. Within the first chapter of the book, I was enlightened by the history she provided about the way women dressed, and how it was a class symbol.  I Found this interesting because I see the manifestation of this same mentality today in the U.S. she mentioned how black women were not able the compete with white women, So, they competed with each other; the competition was to see who could disassociate themselves from "blackness." This was particularly interesting because even today, you see black women dressing to impress one another as if there is a competition.

I also found Downtown Ladies to be interesting because of the analysis of the woman/lady dichtonomy.  A "Woman" is strong physically, head of the household, etc. While a "lady" is fragile and dainty. This was an important concept in Downtown Ladies as Gina Ulysse describe  a higgler. Higglers were known to be "rude gals" that sell products in Jamaica; they are now formally known as Informal Commercial Importers. When Ulysse dedicated an entire section to personal accounts of higglers, they all had one important thing in common: independence. The only reason that an ICI does this for a living is to take care of family members and to be their own boss.

This reminds me of the informal businesses here in the U.S. The notification behind majority of the informal activity is to be upwardly mobile in class, take care of their family, and be independent. With this parallel, I address Barrieteau's piece about feminism in the Caribbean. Is  black feminism the same transnationally? In my opinion, they operate under the same oppressive system; the lighter the skin the more power you have. Just as we may be affected by race differently, black feminists may experience oppression differently than that of the Caribbean feminist. The manifestation of these oppressions is not what make them alike; it's the driving force behind these oppressions that makes them  similar.

Ulysse and Barriteau

Barriteau's article provided a useful framework for reading Ulysse. She calls attention to some of the issues within feminist theory that we (as a class) have been confronting since our first class meeting. There appear to be parallels between how Western feminism and radical theory approach women in non-Western societies and (predominantly white) feminism in relation to black feminism. What exists is a type of inadequacy to theorize about these "Others" through the dominant perspectives and frameworks. Barriteau unpacks black feminism in a way that meshes well with the Ulysse readings.

Ulysse's genealogy (if we can call it that) provides us with a narrative of the creation of informal commercial importers (ICIs) in Jamaican society. According to Ulysse, the perception of the ICIs is that of a "rude gal"--she's typically "out of place" in society because of her ability to slip across demarcated lines of race, class, and sexuality (49-50). This causes her to be seen in as something of a pariah in society. However, because she resides in a marginalize position socially and economically, this slippage, as well as her ability to move through society because of her association with capital, is a particularly productive maneuver. She is able to bend the clearly demarcated roles of society, norms that have been established over 400 years of colonization. This "bending" may be what makes her look abnormal and out of place in society. I think that this movement provides these women a kind of autonomy.

This idea is further bolstered in Chapter Four: Uptown Women/Downtown Ladies: Differences among ICIs. The stereotypes of these women plays into the favor of the state, as the state makes up policies that allow it to benefit from the trade these women are involved in. However, these rigid policies are easily skirted, rendering them overall ineffective. Part of the reason this is able to occur is because of the "articulation of class and color categories allow for variation in ways that traders practice their trade" (156). As more restrictions are put on these bodies, they become more fluid and are able to adapt to changes.

Caribbean vs Black Feminism

Using Barriteau to frame Ulysse's work brings up, as Barriteau acknowledges, more questions than answers concerning the academic relationship between Caribbean and Black feminism. I found Barriteau to be helpful in providing a brief overview of black feminist theory, but as such a short piece frustrating in suggesting stronger applications to Caribbean feminism without delivering. It did, however, provide an interesting lense through which to read Ulysse, especially as she is so concerned with her methodology. As acknowledged in the biline of her book, Ulysse's work is meant to investigate the researcher and her relationship with her subjects, as opposed to presenting her research as if it is completely objective.
Ulysse raises a number of interesting points she discovered, particularly in Chapter 3, regarding "natives'" attitudes towards researchers and how this affects their work and data. She observes that "this mistrust indicated their belief that the academy does not value, or even consider, researchers' relationships with subjects," and the assumption that she would only be interested in her birth country. Black feminisms emphasize "the personal is political," and the role of black women in shaping their own politics, which becomes problematic when looking at much of the work on Caribbean feminism; Ulysse engages with this difficulty as a "Regional Native, Local Outsider." Is this what makes Caribbean feminism distinct from Black feminism, the relationship of the academic to the subject?
Barriteau's most interesting point, to me, was from her previous work, that the way African American and Caribbean black people experience racism is completely structurally different (10). This presents the role of transnational feminisms to confront racism in different countries, in all its forms. While Barriteau argues for greater applications of black feminism to the Caribbean, it seems to me that the academic effort should be put into either specifying the essential differences between the two camps, or utilizing a theory that takes international differences into special account.

Ulysse and US/Jamaica Parallels

            In Gina A. Ulysse’s reflexive, feminist, and anthropological text, she engages in academic activism by exposing the lives, stories, and narratives of ICIs. Focusing on the raced and gendered stratification of this unique group, Ulysse reveals the social, cultural, and symbolic capital that is acquired, exchanged, and converted, oftentimes not even for material gain.

            What struck me most as I was reading was the fact that I consistently forgot I was reading about Jamaica. The immense detail that Ulysse engages in with regard to slavery, pigmentocracy, and the lady/woman dichotomy was all too familiar of the nineteenth century south. This is especially true when considering the colored/black dichotomy within the marginalized population in Jamaica, for it was reminiscent of lighter/prettier women being house slaves and darker/masculine women being field slaved in the United States. Still, what separates the two is the assertion by Ulysse that there was more class fluidity for the nonwhite women in Jamaica. Through dress, discourse, and social presentation, “women” could present themselves as “ladies,” thus portraying a life of leisure and not labor (27). Ulysse refers to this practice as a type of class cross-dressing, which fosters the social distancing of browns and blacks; more literally, social distancing was accomplished by social acts such as obtaining an education and getting married. This is not the situation for market workers, though, who represent “the ultimate bad woman” because she is both independent and dismissive of men, financially and sexually (50).

            As illustrated above, Ulysse presents the ICI as an independent, autonomous woman who experiences a strange duality of being able to move freely within a stratification through business dealings and family structure, but it still bound by the limits and assumptions of that category. Just like Ulysse herself is both insider and outsider, the ICI is able to move both freely and not freely. This reality makes for a convenient situation in which the ICI’s social positioning can be framed in a way that highlights the positive aspects of Jamaica. In chapter four, Ulysse writes: “ICIs conceal the realities of Jamaica’s unemployment rate; they obscure the ways the state fails to provide for its citizens. Second, they benefit the state economically” (133). In a way, the ICI’s narratives is being used to erase (silence?) the reality of actual problems in Jamaica, and I can’t help but notice how they are framed in the exact opposite way of an American welfare queen: a woman who is perceived to be dependent, a problem, draining resources whereas the ICI is independent, a solution to unemployment, a shining example of women’s autonomy.