As we get more readings and gain more insight into colonialism, I am seeing these patterns in the places I have lived since I moved around a lot due to my father’s military service. In my last post, the readings on the cultural fluidity within Mexican cultures helped me make sense of my memories of the US-Mexican border. In this week's reading on colonialism, I thought about Colonial Williamsburg (where I lived throughout my high school years). The information that was covered in David Kazanjian’s “Colonial” revealed how the, “U.S. understanding of colonialism expresses a deeply nationalist mythology that continues to thrive today” (Kazanjian 49). From my experience living in Williamsburg, this mythology remains true. Tourists, not just from America but from all over the world, come to this small town because I guess seeing high school boys participating in fife and drum gives an exquisite taste of the noble U.S. principles of freedom, equality, and democracy. My point is that colonialism is commodified and celebrated to this day without fully acknowledging the presence of Native Americans or African Americans; hence, it is clear why scholars and activists challenge this mythology, as well as systemic racism. I think a question that comes to mind is: how does a tourist town based on colonialism begin to either make that shift into an honest intersectional acknowledgment of that history?
Later in the article, Kazanjian talks about postcolonial feminist and queer studies, in addition to contemporary black feminist critics, who have challenged the normativity of the more celebrated aspects of American colonialism by exploring the racial implications, uneven deployments of gender, and sexuality in a colonial context. I would be extremely fascinated to see if knowledge on these topics could ever be acknowledged by these locations of colonial tourism. Perhaps this is something I can look into for the next project since I’ve lived in various locations that could use further investigation.
I also would like to pull my thoughts together in regards to Sandra Gustafson’s article “Literature” and tie it into the poems by Harjo. Lately, I’ve been reading a significant amount of poetry (thanks to poetry class, but I am thoroughly enjoying it). The arguments Gustafson presents in “Literature” center on knowledge as property in which not everyone had access too, which contrasts with the power of electronic media, where information is all over the place. It reminded me of conversations in Persuasive Writing last semester, meaning that verifying sources is so crucial because it’s easier than some may realize to come across an inaccurate source. Clearly, literature had drawbacks when it came to who got the privilege to enjoy it and use it, such as ministers and elites fretting over allowing women to read (Gustafson 159). The mention of Emily Dickinson’s influence in the evolution from novels being solely published to expanding publications to poetry collections as a means of challenging the conceptions of literature is amazing to know. Nowadays, there may be a devolution to print culture because digital media is on the rise, meaning this can be seen as a great thing when it comes to archiving older textual forms as Gustafson explains.
As for Harjo’s poems, I quite enjoyed this style. I’m exploring poetry from a narrative instead of generalizations. I like how Harjo’s work combined elements of both but had a main focus on using imagery to portray issues with current systems. The line, “Power is seductive and sparkles. False gold also glitters” was a strong visual that described how power and money are valued over humanity--of birth and new life. Also, “there is no such thing as a one-way land bridge” brought to mind things I talked about in terms of tourism and actually teaching things that aren’t normative lines of thought. Overall, I like how poetry can artistically showcase the issues we have been discussing.
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