An Engaged Ethnography of Queer and Trans Power in Georgia
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
University of Massachusetts Amherst ScholarWorks@UMass Amherst Doctoral Dissertations Dissertations and Theses April 2021 Liberation and Gravy: An Engaged Ethnography of Queer and Trans Power in Georgia Elias Capello University of Massachusetts Amherst Follow this and additional works at: https://scholarworks.umass.edu/dissertations_2 Part of the Linguistic Anthropology Commons, Other Geography Commons, Social and Cultural Anthropology Commons, and the Social Justice Commons Recommended Citation Capello, Elias, "Liberation and Gravy: An Engaged Ethnography of Queer and Trans Power in Georgia" (2021). Doctoral Dissertations. 2095. https://doi.org/10.7275/20409443 https://scholarworks.umass.edu/dissertations_2/2095 This Open Access Dissertation is brought to you for free and open access by the Dissertations and Theses at ScholarWorks@UMass Amherst. It has been accepted for inclusion in Doctoral Dissertations by an authorized administrator of ScholarWorks@UMass Amherst. For more information, please contact [email protected]. LIBERATION AND GRAVY: AN ENGAGED ETHNOGRAPHY OF QUEER AND TRANS POWER IN GEORGIA A Dissertation Presented by ELIAS BROOKS CAPELLO Submitted to the Graduate School of the University of Massachusetts Amherst in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY February 2021 Anthropology ©Copyright by Elias Brooks Capello 2021 All Rights Reserved LIBERATION AND GRAVY: AN ENGAGED ETHNOGRAPHY OF QUEER AND TRANS POWER IN GEORGIA A Dissertation Presented By ELIAS BROOKS CAPELLO Approved as to style and content by: ___________________________________ Amanda Walker-Johnson, Chair ___________________________________ Jen Sandler, Member ___________________________________ Susan Shaw, Member ___________________________________ Jacqueline Urla, Department Head Anthropology DEDICATION To all of those in the movement and to those who have yet to join us. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS I did not grow up in a home with books. Folks from Thibodaux, Louisiana do not grow up to be scholars. We grow up to work at The Walmart, The DOW, or the federal prisons occupying the land. In particular, as someone from a predominately white working class background, people encouraged me at a young age to participate in the destruction of our families, the land and our communities. My father worked two jobs to make sure we kept our house. He still had holes in his socks for most of my childhood. We grew up on the canned goods you could buy from The Dollar Store for 50 cents each. If I wanted to own a book as a child or adolescent, I had to wait until my birthday. My parents would save up to afford a yearly book for me. For the rest of childhood, I explored whatever I could find in the Louisiana public libraries. This meant topics such as the ones explored in this dissertation, such as anthropology, collaboration, trans stories, and queer social movements were not accessible. Considering all of this, it still feels strange to call myself a “scholar”. It is a label that I feel like I am borrowing, and at any moment, I will be told to return “scholar” to its rightful master. I did not fully understand the class politics of “intellectualism” until I attended a department party during my first semester of graduate school. My button down had stains on it, and I did not realize I had to bring wine to the party, let alone, what type of wine. I felt stupid. I felt the same way I did when I stepped off the plane for an interview for a LGBT+ scholarship. There I was, in a grey blazer I bought from Goodwill, knowing nothing of San Francisco or key figures in LGBT+ history like Harvey Milk. I felt removed from a history that was supposedly my own. v The articulation of this dissertation is due to the help of many people from seemingly disparate communities. Mentors, friends, and lovers nurtured my talents. People around me allowed me to embrace my own intuition. They encouraged my thoughts, my passions, and my courage. I view “acknowledgement” as a reciprocal process. I hope throughout this dissertation, I give thanks and respect to my mentors, chosen family, family of origin, and my ancestors in the search of justice. With this in mind, I would like to highlight the work of particular individuals. I want to thank my social studies and history teachers in Ascension Parish schools, who taught me how to write meaningfully. In particular, Ms. Lambert who gave me a journal to document, practice, and develop my ideas. With the journal and her words of encouragement, I began to write powerfully about issues that mattered. Similarly, I am thankful for my Ph.D. committee: Dr. Susan Shaw, Dr. Amanda Walker- Johnson, and Dr. Jen Sandler. While teaching me the social and cultural expectations of academia, they also gave me space to resist linear and simplifying narratives. They taught me nuanced critique is not enough and encouraged me to build my own articulations. Rather than trying to condition me to fit in better, they helped me grow to become a scholar that I want to be. Through asking tough questions, they made sure my research remained grounded. They showed me respect as a still-in-development scholar and nurtured my strengths. This dissertation would not have been possible without the work of trans and queer scholars before me. As we continue to fight to liberate academic institutions, scholars such as Julia Serano (2007), Susan Stryker (2008), Dean Spade (2011), and Riley Snorton (2017) break the mold that we as trans people are put into. Their scholarship helped me understand power as it vi relates to trans people in the U.S., and their words challenged me to see my own identity and experiences in relationship to a broader history of oppression. Although they were not official collaborators, current networks of trans and queer scholars who look after each other enabled me to do this work. We sent each other calls for submissions, scholarships/fellowships, and job postings. We looked over each other’s work and supported each other emotionally. Through these everyday actions, we helped each other navigate the cisnormativity of graduate school. Some of us left academia altogether. Some of us passed away before graduating. And some remained within the system. In particular, I’d like to thank my colleagues Elias Lawliet and Bigelsu Summer for all of the emotional check-ins, the collaborations on online articles and blog posts, and making sure I remained on track to graduate. Some trans and queer folks left academia altogether: they found other ways to heal. Some of us remained within the system, and some of us passed away before graduating. I would like to thank my chosen family for shelter, safety, financial stability and guidance. In particular, three women that acted like mothers for me: Rachel Levin, Rebecca Marie Norris, and Carmen Cambre. Whether it was sending me socks during the harsh Massachusetts’ winters or telling me when I was making a complete butthead of myself, they always had a space for me in their hearts. Similarly, I would like to thank my three life partners: Em, Nova, and Cortez. As romantic lovers, they made sure I remained attuned to intimacy, love, and tenderness. They were patient with me throughout this entire process. I could not have done it without their emotional and financial support. They each made sure I set boundaries, enjoyed my 20s, and remembered to laugh. vii Even though we have had tensions throughout the years, my family of origin remained supportive throughout my Ph.D. program and doctoral research. They often did not understand why I chose this career path over more lucrative options, but together we discovered what forgiveness means and how hard it is to practice. Groups such as Queer Anthropology and Trans Studies Group held me accountable to a community of interdisciplinary queer and trans scholars. In particular, I would like to thank Cecilia Velasquez, Sonny Nordmarken, Joohyeon Han-Johnson, Justin Helepololei, Claudia Morales, and Eleanor Finley. Thank you for all of the intellectual and emotional dialogue over the years through the form of verbal conversations, emails, calls for publications, panels, feedback on proposals and writing, working for institutional change on campus, and sometimes, just over a hug, a cup of coffee, and/or tacos. Lastly, I would like to thank my colleagues and fellow organizers a part of the organizations described in this dissertation. viii ABSTRACT LIBERATION AND GRAVY: AN ENGAGED ETHNOGRAPHY OF QUEER AND TRANS POWER IN GEORGIA FEBRUARY 2021 ELIAS CAPELLO, B.S., CENTENARY COLLEGE OF LOUISIANA, SHREVEPORT M.A., UNIVERSITY OF MASSACHUSETTS, AMHERST Ph.D., UNIVERSITY OF MASSACHUSETTS, AMHERST Directed By: Amanda Walker-Johnson, Ph.D. This dissertation aims to better understand how self-identified trans activists in Atlanta, Georgia find and build community, by using queer and Black feminist community based methodologies such as participant observation, ethnographic interviews, participatory mapping, and auto-ethnography. In particular, I ask 1) How do trans people find and build community, safety, and understanding? 2) How do transgender activists create and enact place making that does not rely on policing and privatization? To create and maintain safety for wealthy communities in Atlanta, Georgia, systems of policing and privatization are increasing. Although developers, city council members, and legislators promote Atlanta, Georgia as a gay friendly utopia of art and culture, privatization and policing push Black, immigrant, queer, and transgender communities to the fringes of Atlanta geographically, socially, politically, and culturally. This creates a paradox of safety for transgender activists and artists in Atlanta. Faced with transphobia, activists work to build interpersonal and community safety outside of narratives of safety used in privatization and policing. ix To better understand this paradox, I bring in Black and Indigenous feminist ethnography, queer ethnography, and community-based methods.