Category Archives: Reflections

Reflections on how we feel and how the mission is changing us

Day 4

Reflections, Snapshots
Beyond Borders team with Dr. Spradley on Day 4
Day 4 photo with Dr. Spradley

Today was our last full day at Texas State University. We powered through today and finished three whole skeletal analyses. At this point, our team and the Texas State Team have collectively met our goal for the week and tomorrow we will surpass it. We’re feeling pretty accomplished right now. Our success was mostly due to our amazing teamwork. We had a good routine that we had perfected throughout the week. On days when we did not have any other events planned, we were able to do about three cases a day. To give you some perspective, back at the Archeology and Forensics Laboratory, it takes several weeks to finish one forensic case. Of course, the students have classes, TAing and other responsibilities to do in between working on cases. The professors have even more to do on a daily basis, so doing this many cases at once is amazing. Our days here at Texas State have been both exhilarating and tiring.

Tomorrow we only have a half day at the Osteological Research and Processing Laboratory. We will probably be doing another case or two if we can. In the afternoon, we will pack up and head to Houston where we will be participating in Missing Harris County Day on Saturday as volunteers. We will be helping enter information into missing persons databases, taking family reference DNA samples, and possibly helping to collect information from family members with missing loved ones. I am excited to be participating in this event and helping with this effort.

Tonight we went over to Dr. Kate Spradley’s house for a small party. We got a chance to hang out with all our Texas State friends, which was nice. When we’re in the lab, we are focused on our work and don’t have a lot of time to just chit-chat. At the party, we had the most amazing tacos and really great pineapple salsa. I have had so many tacos since I’ve been here. We probably have tacos at least twice a day, but they’ve been a different type every time. Texas is definitely the place for good tacos.

Team member's lunch of ahi tuna and salmon tacos

Now that we’re at the end of this leg of our journey, I’m looking forward to Houston and Falfurrias, but I know I’m going to miss Texas State. Everyone at Texas State has been so friendly and welcoming. They are motivated and hard workers and I had a great time collaborating with them. Luckily, Dr. Spradley and Dr. Gocha, will also be volunteering at Missing Harris County Day, so I’ll get to see our friends again. I can’t wait to continue on our adventure tomorrow.

–Amanda

Lead by Example

Reflections

“Why do you do this?” is a question I return to each year because it’s one of the first questions I am asked by people learning about our efforts on the border. My response has consistently been “Because it is the right thing to do.”  But the more I work within the midst of this humanitarian crisis, the more I ask myself “For who?”.  Who is benefitting most from our work in south Texas? Is it the unidentified individuals? The families of the missing? Myself?  As a professor of biology and anthropology I spend my days trying to simplify a complex reality for my students. Yet I’ve been working in the complex reality of the Texas-Mexico border for several years and have been approaching it with an embarrassing naievity.  I made it so simple in my mind and in my explanations that I now find myself questioning my own oversimplified statements from years past.

Award winning author Adriana Paramo (Looking for Esperanza) visited UIndy and spent several hours with my students and I talking about her work with migrant women and our work on the border. “How do you know they want you touching their loved ones?” her question was simple but I wasn’t sure how to respond.  The individuals that have been identified and repatriated to date were returned to families looking for closure, so I hadn’t considered the fact that not all families would feel that way. I hadn’t considered that some families would view our analyses as a guaranteed extension of purgatory for their family members, or be insulted by what they view as cultural insensitivity. But I return to the fact that most of the families of the missing want answers. As trained anthropologists, we approach our work with sensitivity and cultural understanding of the many different groups of people and cultures we may potentially encounter. As forensic scientists we approach our work with respect and a sense of responsibility in providing dignity for the dead.

Is it me? Am I doing this simply because it makes me feel good? There is a sense of satisfaction that comes with doing something you feel is right. But there is also an overwhelming sense of stress and fatigue that is inherent in this type of work. Any type of volunteer work that forces you to the brink of physical and mental exhaustion cannot be purely selfish in nature. If I merely wanted to feel “good” I could find other venues that were less time consuming and closer to home.  I would find something that didn’t leave my body and mind questioning my decisions to put myself so close to my breaking point over and over again.  As we prepare to leave tomorrow I have to remind myself that this year not only am I responsible for my own health and well being, but also for my daughter who is due in July.

So why is this the right thing to do? It is right because hundreds of people should not be nameless and forgotten after having died in our country.  Children and spouses should not suffer wondering what happened to their loved ones. And while I have come to recognize the fact that our work will not be the “right thing to do” for everyone and in every situation, it is the “right thing to do” for most.  Year after year I have seen my students grow as they experience a harsh reality very different from their own privileged lives.  I use this work to teach my children and my family about being thankful, humble and kind. In a time when many question the entitlement of the next generation, I see many young people (from my university and others) leaning humility, compassion and understanding in a way that would not be possible without immersion in this humanitarian crisis.

There are many smart, compassionate and dedicated people working in the middle of this crisis everyday.  I respect them in a way that I am unable to put into words because I can come home and separate myself from this situation in a way that they cannot do. They do not do this because they get paid, they also do this because they feel it’s the right thing to do. While we all have different ideas and different feelings as to what “right” means, I am proud to be a small part of this amazing group of people who fight for basic human rights in life and in death. Who treat all people with dignity. Who embody compassion, humility and humanitarianism.  And who lead by example.

~KEL

Purposeful Disorientation

Reflections

As our departure date draws near, I find myself going through my usual pre-fieldwork lists of “things to do” and “things not to forget.” Human subjects protection protocol – completed. Recruitment scripts, interview guides, and informed consent documents- printed. Digital recorder – packed. Business cards – packed. Spare batteries, flash-drives, methods reference books, laptop computer – packed, packed, packed, and packed. As with any research trip, the right equipment and preparation is essential to project success. But, as a cultural anthropologist on this trip, my preparation is a bit different than that of my forensic science colleagues. Simply put, I’ve joined the team in order to study the process of migrant identification and repatriation. Thus while my colleagues prepare to do the work of identification, I’m preparing to do the work of immersion research.

 
Over this 10 day trip, I’ll be a participant observer with the Beyond Borders team. This means that I must prepare to physically assist the team (as is appropriate for a non-expert) while studying what the team does and why. I’m the proverbial “outsider” who hopes to become an “insider” by learning to see and understand this crisis from the vantage point of my fellow team members. The learning curve, as you might imagine, in this context, will be steep.

 
I’m typically nervous at the beginning of a new project and find myself wondering, “Have I spent enough time doing my background research?” “Will my interview guides elicit meaningful data?” How will the community feel about and react to my presence?” Because it is based on immersion in a social setting, ethnographic research is always uncertain terrain. I’ve had many wonderful fieldwork experiences with HIV-positive communities. I have been generally lucky that so many care providers and women living with HIV/AIDS have been welcoming, patient hosts. I’ve also, however, had many de-stabilizing experiences where my outsider status has been problematic to the extent that I’ve denied entry, asked to leave a setting, or, once, chased out by a well-meaning son protective of his mother’s HIV-positive status. What these instances have taught me is that ethnographic research is always an uncertain terrain. And, because of that, part of my preparation for research includes a process that I call “purposeful disorientation.”

 
“Purposeful disorientation,” highlights the mental process of preparing for the sense of social alienation that cultural anthropological fieldwork entails. It may also highlight the emotional work of preparing oneself to conduct research in a setting characterized by conflict, violence, and/or trauma. As the trip draws near, I’m mindful of how much I don’t know about forensic science and locally-specific conditions of this crisis. I am mindful that my role as a participant observer is completely contingent on the good will of others. I am mindful that the course this research project is therefore uncertain and, in many ways, not up to me. I am also mindful that the work of “Beyond Borders” may be understood in some ways as a confrontation with violence. This effort bears witness to mass death on the border and brings to the forefront of our concerns questions about why this situation of mass death happens and what these deaths can, should, or do mean. At the same time, this fieldwork setting is also, at least partially, defined by humanitarian response and a refusal to accept invisibility and silence as appropriate responses to border death. As a cultural anthropologist, my job is to dwell on the complexity and uncertainty of all that this work entails, carefully unraveling why the pathways of action and response look the way they do and what this might mean for those involved. This is the “stuff” of cultural anthropology, the information and experience gained from the precarious position of an outsider-insider. It’s a strange and disorienting place to be, but I’m thrilled to be here.

Dr. Alyson O’Daniel