The secondary article was an excellent pairing with this
week’s reading. Gina Ulysse’s text engages the work of black feminist thought
in many ways. It is interesting to note that both pieces were published in the
same year, 2007. Ulysse addreses many of the key challenges that Barriteau
references in terms of the value of using black feminist scholarship as a
theoretical background to explore Carribean perspectives. Barriteau understands
that one of the key challenges of Caribbean feminism is “to begin to rethink
the processes we can develop and use to ensure that democratic practices define
how we create knowledge, and how we expose and avoid replicating the
hierarchies of power in the social relations we seek to disrupt” (Barriteau
13). As a black feminist anthropologist and ethnographer, Ulysse is well aware
of this challenge as we see her struggle with the way that she wants to
represent the women she is researching. She explains that the native Jamaicans
are familiar with researchers, because the researchers collect stories about
them to build their careers, and although ethnographers often attempt to
decolonize the native subjects, many simply reinvent another “savage slot”
(Ulysse 96). I would argue that by Ulysse constantly drawing attention to her
position as researcher, ethnographer, and native, she draws upon a black
feminist theoretical framework because she situates herself on the margins and writes
against that structure.
Similarly, another important tenet in black feminist thought
is redefining what we accept as knowledge. As Patricia Hill Collins states and
Barriteau underscores, black feminist scholarship emphasizes the importance of
using personal experience as a means of generating knowledge. While personal
experience is a foundation in the field of anthropology, the manner in which
Ulysse weaves her own personal narrative into her decades of research is one
way in which this text writes against the dominant Western structure. Not only
does she present the stories of the ICIs, but she also never loses sight of her
position to these women. Like we discussed last week with Jamaica Kincaid in A Small Place, Ulysse functions as both regional
native/local outsider, subject/researcher. Acknowledging the sometimes
contradictory ways that performing both positions involves, is what I believe
makes Ulysse’s auto-ethnographic work successful. She does not attempt to
silence views that might be problematic to her overall agenda. Instead, she acknowledges these inconsistencies, yet
it does not undermine her work as scholarly.
Lastly, as Ulysse notes so poignantly in her explanation of
black females in the field of academia, black feminist thought seeks to
deconstruct patriarchal relations. Ulysse deconstructs the formation of her
work on a micro-level, beginning in academia. She explains that the reflexive
process for black females carries its own set of implications: “In spite of
Audre Lorde’s warning that silence will not protect us (1984), our historical
silences on certain subjects have allowed many to be taken seriously and, in
some ways, have sheltered careers. Simultaneously, these survival strategies
have also reified gendered ideals and reinforced the stereotype of the black
superwoman” (111). Although she indicates that this silence is “another
structure of power,” even when black women attempt to erase the silence, it
still becomes problematic because those whose voices are heard are the ones who
speak the dominant language (like Ulysse). I like the fact that Ulysse points
out this contradiction, because black feminist thought is less concerned with
having nice and neat answers then it is about illuminating these issues and
being okay with not having a perfect solution to every problem.
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