Eleana J. Kim’s
ethnography of transnational Korean adoptees instantly reminded me of an
article I read earlier this year by Raka Shome entitled “Global Motherhood: TheTransnational Intimacies of White Femininity.” Shome looks at several
high-profile white women known for their humanitarian work in the Global South –
including Princes Diana, Mia Farrow, and Angelina Jolie – and shows how these
women are positioned (especially in media representations) as global mothers. “In
representations of white women as transnational mothers,” Shome writes, “we
often find them moralized through visual logics that represent them as angelic
figures emanating compassion, love, and healing” (p. 392). Invariably, these
visual logics function on the castigation or erasure of non-white non-Western
mothers.
I could see
similarities between Shome’s analysis and Kim’s narrative of the Caseys from
Missouri who wanted to adopt a Korean ‘orphan’ named Sul Ja. Even when the
couple discovered that Sul Ja had a living parent and a sister, they tried to
go forward with Sul Ja’s adoption, believing that the child would have a better
life in the United States where she would have two loving parents. Although the
Caseys were not a wealthy couple, their whiteness and Westerness still positioned
them as ‘global parents’ – including those children who already had parents.
Another similarity that
I found between Shome’s and Kim’s analysis of transnational adoptions is the
connections they drew between gender, humanitarianism, and nationalism. Shome
argues that global motherhood is particularly significant in the context of 'family
values' discourse in the United States, where “parenting has become...a measure of 'value, self-worth,
and citizenship' for white middle class subjects in order to feel like a completed citizen” (p.389). Likewise,
Kim finds that the Christian Americanism and anticommunism of the 1950s “linked
American cultural citizenship and national security with parenthood and the
nuclear family” (p.44). For me, this is where the contradictions of global
parenthood are most apparent. Global parents are framed as a challenging the
borders of the nation-state – by “enrich[ing] or expand[ing] the scope of
family and nation” – when, in reality, Western logics of kinship reassert those
borders (p.101).
Ultimately, this week’s
reading troubled many notions I had about identity, but also affirmed some of
the misgivings I have about moving beyond ‘identity politics’, which many
social movements aim to do. Mohanty’s personal reflection on her shifting sense
of identity in relation to her experiences with Americans, Indians, Indian Americans,
leftists, and feminists is a great example of why identity remains a crucial
part of feminist politics.
Yet as I recall Violet Barriteau’s article on the lack of engagement between black feminists in the U.S. and black feminists in the Caribbean, I realize that doing 'feminism without borders' means that our politics cannot end with articulating difference. As Mohanty states, difference should also be an impetus to "envision and enact common political and intellectual projects" (p.125.).
This brings to mind a situation I read about a while ago entailing one of these "western mothers", Madonna, in Malawi and how they were clearly over Madonna's austere of superior motherhood. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2308382/Madonna-Malawi-When-adopted-children-posed-saviour-So-President-accused-patronising-arrogance.html
ReplyDeleteI also find it interesting that these women are touted at "international mothers", yet the women who are raising their children, and that of other wealthy white women, are generally immigrant Black Caribbean women being paid very little monetarily and even less in attention.