Update

Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.

I have not abandoned this blog. Actually, I have many ideas and simply not enough time to write them down coherently. See, this semester I’m taking a class, teaching a class, and writing a field statement. Just three things, right? Well…right. But together they leave me with very little free time.  And also, I’m planning a wedding (yay!). But I’m starting to go stir crazy with all the work, and this is an excellent way for me to prevent “red rum” incidents.

So, look forward to me telling you about how a TV anthropologist pissed me off, how I lost my anthropology virginity, and all about my thrilling adventures teaching at a community college.

Liveblogging My Paper…in Haiku

For those of you who missed it live:

Now onto enclaves/social and geographic/enclaves are the best!

Dissonance, of the/cultural variety:/I write about you.

4am- quick nap-/but I must awake at 6/Or face the music.

Assimilation…/Retain IT in defiance-/ETHNICITY!

Indigenous news/American newspapers/In our Israel

Political ties/economic and social=/transnational ties

Root beer, I love you./You kept me awake all night./Seriously- thanks.

Conclusion, intro,/oh, and the works cited…and then/I am done Done DONE!

Summer Reading List III

A much shorter list, because I don’t read much fiction anymore.

Fearful Symmetry, by Olivia Woods

The latest installment in the Deep Space Nine novels. I loved DS9 and I was sad when it ended, but these books are a great way to continue. This one starts to uncover some of the Big Bad conspiracy that’s been brewing over the last couple of books and I’m excited to see what happens. The second half, which takes place on Cardassia, is less interesting to me, but I might read it anyway if it’s important back story.

A Lion Among Men, by Gregory Maguire

This book is awful. I love Mr. Maguire, but this is more Mirror Mirror and less Wicked. Also, just as confusing as Son of a Witch. I am halfway through and I Just. Need. To. Finish. It.

The Other Queen, Phillipa Gregory

Again, awful. Love her, hate this book. Must finish it.

Dead Until Dark, by Charlaine Harris

A friend just gave me the first two books in this series and they look like a good read. I’m planning on reading these early, so I can give them back before I leave town. Also, I’ve seen a few episodes of the TV series based on the books and it was entertaining…so I’m excited.

Not included on this list but equally important are the last few issues of Buffy Season 8 and Serenity: Those Left Behind. Way behind on those. And yes, I know that makes me a dork. I’m proud to be a Whedonite.

Jared Diamond Provokes Discussion on Ethics

The blogosphere is all atwitter with the news that the man they love to hate on, Jared Diamond, is being sued by some of his informants:

here

and here

and here

I’m only familiar with his “The Worst Mistake In The History Of The Human Race”‘ article [SPOILER ALERT: it was agriculture]. I own his two most popular books but never got beyond a few pages in each. In sum, I have no hard feelings for Dr. Diamond nor do I revel in his troubles because of my own bitter dislike for the man. I understand that academic community has called attention to several serious problems with his work, and if they are true then shame on him. But I’m just not that familiar with his work.

So, I’d like to talk not so much about the specific controversy, but rather to the issues it raises for me. Namely, how we, as anthropologists, responsibly report on our informants’ lives and the ethical issues involved in following someone around for a year and profiting from it. From them.

—

The days of colonial anthropology are largely over, no longer is anthropology solely the realm of white men nor do we only study the scantily clothed natives. We study everyone now, from the bum in the Bronx to the schoolteacher in St. Petersburg to the guy from PNG who allegedly stole a pig. And often we ‘give back’ to the community we are studying, either in the form of remuneration for specific services [like getting paid for an interview] or by giving the research back in a productive way that can help with some issue or trouble. Still, we are the ones who truly benefit- no one can deny the power inequality. We get degrees and book deals [okay, some of us do..a few at least], while they remain in the same community in which we  ‘discovered them,’ for better or for worst.

—

A second issue I am concerned about- my informants’ ’satisfaction’ with my opinions on them. In one of my methods classes we went through a series of improv exercises in which we were presented with ethical quandaries that might arise during fieldwork.* One scenario was a researcher who had published unfavorable reports of a hospice which she had been studying. Her informants were, naturally, upset. My classmate who was charged with the role of the researcher tried to calmly explain herself to the complainant and refused to recant. The complainant got more and more agitated. The scenario ended without a resolution. In short, there’s not much you can do about an informant who is unhappy with your work if you’re planning on standing by it.

I’m not working with, as the IRB would say, “at risk populations.” Nor am I planning on asking particularly controversial questions of my informants. But still, there are ethical conundrums. What if they just don’t like what I write? My informants speak English and I plan on offering them the finished product so they can see what I did with all those interviews and participant observation notes. I think that’s important. But what will I do if I get an angry Facebook message? At this point, all I can say is that I hope I don’t get one.

—

There are a few issues that I’m worried about in regards to ethics and fieldwork. They’re not unique- I’d wager every ethnographer is concerned about their responsibility to their informants. But when I read about unhappy informants calling foul, I can’t help but wonder [just a little bit] if it will ever happen to me.

—

*[My role was that of an ethnographer studying a gang who found out that the gang was preparing to committ a crime. My response was to subtly urge the target of the crime to either buy a gun or get out of town. It got a laugh, but I'm not sure how much it resovled the situation. In fact, I'm not sure there was a resolution to that solution].

Summer Reading List II

And now for the Jewish Stuff:

The Garden of Emuna: A Practical Guide to Life, by Rabbi Shalom Arush

This is a reread, but one that I think is important. I’ve been rereading it every month, which, I know, sounds obsessive, but it truly has helped me. For those of you who aren’t familiar, Garden of Emuna is like a self help book for your faith [emuna]. Based on the teachings of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, it is an accessible and extremely useful resource when trying to answer those big questions of life, the universe, and everything during those moments when everything just seems too hard. It’s a must read.

To Pray as a Jew, by Rabbi Hayum Halevy Donin

A rule book with commentary, on a topic that I’m going to be working on this summer actively. I’m up to Minchah an average of 3 times a week (my goal is four), and I’d like to work on Maariv, too. It’s easier when I truly understand what I’m saying and why I’m saying it- otherwise I run the risk of rote memorization. Plus, it includes information on communal prayer, so I won’t embarrass myself anymore.

A Guide to Jewish Prayer, by Rabbi ADin Steinsaltz

I’ve read bits and pieces of this book before, but it’s dense and I never have the time to sit down and get into it. It, along with the book just mentioned, are the cornerstones of my summer’s goal to better understand prayer in Judaism. I’m tired of focusing on the outward accroutuments- I want to look inward and find some true meaning, some true emuna.

Like Bread on the Seder Plate, by Rebecca Alpert

Another thing I’d like to understand better this summer is the intersection between my sexual orientation and my faith. This book is subtitled, “Jewish Lesbians and the Transformation of Tradition,” and hopefully will go explore some of the ways in which one can be an active practicioner of Judaism and be queer.

Why be Jewish, by David J. Wolpe

A short one, but one with excellent recommendations. It promises to be a spiritual invitation to Judaism and from some brief glances inside, it seems to be beautifully written.

Jews, G-d and History, by Max I. Dimont

Recommended to me last year by a friend, I haven’t had a chance to read it until now. A nearly 500 tightly typed page historical account of one of the world’s most enduring people. This is a trade paperback, so it will be good plane reading.

The Many Faces of Judaism, by Gilbert S. Rosenthal

I’ve come across this book in many used bookstores. It’s a sort of textbook that comes along with a workbook [which I sadly did not buy]. It explains the basic tenents and history of each of America’s four Jewish traditions- Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist. I’m still struggling with where I belong, so hopefuly this will help me figure out where to look.

In the Back of the Bus

The charedim are at it again, this time focusing their extremism on Egged: Orthodox rally in favor of segregated buses.

I’ve been smashed up against people before in a bus (I was a commuter in New York before I gave up  the ‘rat race’ to go West) and I seriously doubt that anyone was thinking anything beyond “please, please get me out of here.” If you’re thinking something else, then you have a serious problem.

You don’t want to sit next to a woman, fine. If it’s going to cause you that much discomfort- walk. Or drive. Or wait for the next bus. Or sit next to a man. Or ask a woman to switch seats with you so you can sit next to a man or vice versa. Or, and here’s a novel thought, stop regarding women as the enemy. And stop using the idea of a mechitza to do so

This is also a disingenuous representation of the Jewish faith. They are behaving as if the mechitza was meant for mundane daily ritual. It was instituted during the Second Temple Period to prevent lewd behavior in the Temple during religious events. This is a misuse of that tradition. I have some problems with the mechitza, but I respect that some people need it for their kavanah. IN SHUL. What I don’t respect is misrepresentation and extremism being forced on others. Especially in a secular arena like public transportation.

Forcing women to ride in the back in order to preserve one population’s righteous indignation is a threat to cultural pluralism- it’s one thing to respect the minority; it’s a wholly different one to let one minority impose their own belief system on the rest. Defining oneself through extremism and imposition will only result in more suffering, as the gap between the groups, in this case the ultra orthodox and everyone else, only grows deeper. Such gaps, which are a breeding ground for disrespect, only serve the case against cultural pluralism. Once again, a small minority are taking accommodation too far.

Minorities’ rights are protected, but in return for that protection they must also accept the basic tenets of that nation’s social order. In this case, they are Israeli citizens, and Israel is a democracy that proclaims it will protect the dignity of its people. All of its people. That includes women. The country is based in Jewish values, and those values also protect dignity. Consequently, by denying that basic right of dignity these protesters are going against the same social contract that allows them the freedom to voice their dissent. You can’t pick and choose and expect society to abide by your decisions.

The chardeim involved in this outcry are twisting faith, threatening their own self-interests, and ignoring their civic duty to protect the dignity of all people in Israel.

Like the secular protesters said, don’t let Israel become Iran.

Summer Reading List

As I sit here, with way too much work to do, I naturally procrastinate. And tonight, that procrastination takes the form of me planning my summer reading list- you know, ‘fun’ To start with, here’s the anthro stuff:

Foucaut: A Critical Reader, edited by David Couzens Hoy

Because one can never have too many panopticans. Seriously though, I’ve come across a bunch of Foucault citations in migration theory lately and I need to brush up. My theory class last year only briefly addressed him and the only decent explanation I ever got was over a bottle of whiskey and who knows how much of that I retained.

What the Best College Teachers Do, by Ken Bain

If I get a TAship next year, (it’s iffy since my funding is up this semester), it’s probably going to be intro and I want to be ready to lead those discussion sessions and actually inspire my students. Last time, I was brand new and floundered. This time, I’ll benefit from the extensive research on pedagogy that this books promises (also, three years of other TAships : ). I read a few pages when I first bought it, and it definitely piqued my interest- seems well written and direct.

Letters from the Field: 1925-1975, by Margaret Mead

Not just because there might be love letters between her and Ruth B., but also because she’s a beautiful and evocative writer and each letter is a story in and of itself.

Cultural Materialism: The Struggle for a Science of Culture, Marvin Harris

Infastructure, structure, superstructure- what’s not to love? I’ve never read the whole thing straight through and I’d love to try.

Tales of the Field: On Writing Ethnography, by John Van Maanen

What do you do when you return to your pup tent with all those tapes and random scribblings? You sit in front of your typewriter, ’shuffle your cards’ and then….ha! So glad we don’t have to do that anymore. Now, we code our interviews and fieldnotes with software in our nice air conditioned offices. But what happens when you have all those neatly organized files? Maanen promises to address that very question through a careful examination of ‘narrative conventions’ and theory along with vignettes and straightforward advice. I’m always looking for more books on methods and I came across this one in a used bookshop. I hope it’s worth the $4.

Essentials of Physical Anthropology, by Robert Jurmain et al

I managed to escape undergrad without any serious education in physical anthropology. I’d like to remedy that by perusing this textbook, especially since I hope to teach at a community college and they look for people ready to do a 4 field approach.

Writing for Social Scientists, by Howard S. Becker

Next year, I will [hopefully] be writing my field statements and proposal. I also have a book specifically on proposal writing, but I’m going to start with this and hope it will aid in my survival in academia. It has diagrams and comics and gives off a friendly, approachable vibe.

Designing an Anthropology Career: Professional Development Exercises, by Sheryln H. Briller and Amy Goldmacher

Increasingly, I am worried about my career, past, present and future, and how a lack of foresight might be crippling me severely. I took a seminar in professionalism my second year, and I hope this expands on that material and gives me some direction for the future (and maybe some ways to rectify the past).

And…

…about 67 articles that are relevant to my field that I have saved on my hard drive- those come with me to Israel (assuming my grant comes through and I go).
What do you all think? Any suggestions from the peanut gallery?

Reflections on Purim and a Wall

I saw my name on a wall today. I cried.

The wall was at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. It was glass, with frosted letters spelling out the first names of all the victims. One of those names was my name.

Sari.

This week, we celebrated Purim. What some would call the first pogrom, the first occurrence of institutionalized and purposeful ant-semitism that the world has seen. We celebrate because, in short, we won. There was a miracle and we were saved, not by the parting of great waters or liberating Americans but, simply, by being allowed to defend ourselves. King Ahasuerus was persuaded by his Jewish queen to give the Jews permission to fight back when the Persian people attacked, an attack which he had approved because of the malicious machinations of Haman.

Haman. Descendent of Amalek. Ancestor of Hitler.

The museum was not, as Holocaust museums go, particularly traumatic. In fact, while I was getting teary, I didn’t break down until I saw the name on the wall. It’s impossible for a Jew to walk through such a museum without feeling personally affected. In fact I would wager that everyone, regardless of religion, feels such a way, but for me I think I’m more affected as a Jew than as a human being. The human being in me recoils at the mass destruction of life in such a cold and calculated manner. But the Jew in me is terrified. And heartbroken and devastated and shaken. But absolutely terrified. That it could happen at all means it could happen again. Maybe not on the same scale, maybe not in the same way, and maybe not in the same place. But it could happen again, and judging from our track record, anti-semitism isn’t going anywhere. In fact, it hasn’t.

Last month, a synagogue in Caracas was vandalized, last week Swiss Jews reported growing unrest, and yesterday countries around the world were still deciding whether or not to attend Durban II.

Today, I cried. Tomorrow, I’ll do something about it.

25 Things about Anthropologists

Facebook wants to know about me? How about some eminent scholars in my field instead?

1. Malinowski’s fieldwork in the Trobriand islands was extended because he was stranded during WWI. That’s what happens when you’re a Pole from Austria-Hungary in an Australian territory.
2. Mary Douglas ate her words after reconsidering her critique of the laws of kashrut
3. There’s a bust of Franz Boas at Columbia. A professor told me that students used to rub his head for good luck.
4. Adam Kollar coined the term ethnology in 1783.
5. Marcel Mauss was Emilie Durkheim’s nephew.
6. Clifford Geertz married two anthropologists. Not at the same time.
7. Marshall Sahlins felt it important to point out that Hobbes was not bald.
8. C= ET is a formula designed by Leslie White to measure cultural evolution.
9. Claude Lévi-Strauss lost his teaching job during WWII because he was Jewish and lived in France. Damn French.
10. A quote from James Clifford’s website: “Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.”
11. Lewis Henry Morgan’s Iroquois name was Tayadaowuhkuh.
12. Akhil Gupta almost didn’t get tenure.
13. Edward Tylor never went to college.
14. There’s a postage stamp with Ruth Benedict’s picture on it.
15. Max Gluckman taught at Oxford before Manchester.
16. Edmund Leach is a knight.
17. E.E. Evans-Pritchard is, too.
18. James Frazer was a lawyer who never tried a case. He was also a knight.
19. Talal Asad’s father was Jewish (before he converted to Islam)
20. Margaret Mead used to wear a cape.
21. The first doctorate in anthropology at Columbia went to Alfred L. Kroeber.
22. Edward Sapir’s native language was Yiddish.
23. Benjamin Whorf wrote an unpublished Hopi dictionary.
24. Alfred Reginald added the Radcliffe part of the Brown.
25. Robert Lowie won a Viking medal.

(blame Wikipedia if any of this is wrong)

You are what you wear…

In Israel, it’s easy to pick out the dati girls. Just look for the skirts and the “modest” tops (I put modest in quotations because thanks to the proliferation of frum barbie dolls, modest can mean skin tight). But here in the States, where people aren’t obsessed with skirt lengths, a more liberal Jewish girl can sail right under the radar. Not so for the boys. That kippah is a dead giveway that that guy is a Jew. In Israel, you’ve got to worry about color and shape and material and how your kippah defines you politically and spiritually. Here, not so much, unless you are one of those cool folks who lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood. Here, they simply announce your membership in the tribe to the rest of the people. And unless they tuck them in, those tzitzit are hanging free in the wind, marking the wearer as something foreign, as the typical American isn’t always aware of what wearing them means. But wearing long skirts or kippah aren’t the only way to mark oneself a Jew. There’s also the omnipresent magen david necklace. Or now, with increasing frequency, the hamsa (personally, I own both).

Two recent articles, David A.M. Wilensky’s Out here on the fringes we wear the fringe, and Simona Kogan’s piece on Jewish jewelry brought all this to the surface for me. Not in a bad way, but they just reminded me about how charged it is to wear something as simple as a necklace or a piece of black fabric, especially in light of an incident last weekend.

Basically, what happened is I had on a pair of jeans (which I had borrowed since I don’t actually wear jeans) because the party was a 90s theme and a long denim skirt just didn’t go with my “I smell…like Teen Spirit” tee shirt. I made the shirt myself, incidentally. Now, I am by no means frum. I got into the habit of wearing more modest clothing a few years ago (no pants, no short sleeves), but my shirts rarely cover my elbows and my skirts don’t always cover my knees when I sit down. It’s more habit and comfort than religious conviction, and I doubt anyone notices unless I start obsessively worrying about it in front of them, as I sometimes do. Last Saturday night was one of those times. In fact, the combination of too much white wine and some chabadniks at the party made me freak out momentarily and run back inside to change into a skirt, Lame, I know. And very self-centered of me, since no one cared what I was wearing beyond my very cool shirt.

But the truth is, I don’t just wear those clothes for myself. I wear them as a way to say something to the world. Namely, that I’m Jewish, vaguely traditional,  and that I don’t want anyone looking down my shirt. I wear my magen david (which comes with a claddagh ring in the center, an homage to my Irish mother), my hamsa, or my name in Hebrew script almost every day. It’s important to me that people know I’m Jewish, and truth is, I’m sometimes jealous of the boys and their ability to so loudly proclaim their Jewishness through tzitzit or kippah.