Contributed by Samuel Martínez

On the evening of Wednesday, 7 April, El Instituto, together with the Connecticut Democracy Center at the Old State House (OSH), Hartford, co-hosted a live-streamed conversation with Karla Cornejo Villavicencio, Ecuadorian-American essayist and creative nonfiction writer, moderated by Fany Hannon, Director of UConn’s Puerto Rican and Latin American Cultural Center. “The Undocumented Americans: A Conversation with Karla Cornejo Villavicencio,” focuses on Cornejo’s experiences in writing her celebrated book, The Undocumented Americans, based on her travels across much of the United States to talk to undocumented immigrants about their lives. The book was named one of 20 “must read” books from 2020 by Barack Obama and is a finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Jon Leonard Award for best first book.

After an introduction by OSH Museum Educator, Mariana García, Hannon asked Cornejo to speak about her motivation to write the book. Cornejo answered that the 2016 election changed her attitude toward her art. Before that, as an undocumented immigrant, she did not want her life to be defined by being an immigrant in the ways her parents’ lives had been. After Trump’s ascent, Cornejo said she found courage in James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time, to write about immigration in ways that did not elide the costs that displacement to the North took from her mental health and that of other out-of-status immigrants. “I knew I had something different to say,” she remarked. “I don’t think that we necessarily have debts to anybody but ourselves, but I know that I could write about immigration in a way that was different than it had been written about before.”

Speaking of the psychological burden of feeling indebted to our parents, Cornejo said, “Our parents have lived lives not necessarily making their own choices or following their own dreams, and it’s a continuation of intergenerational trauma for us to try to repay debts to them and to live a life in not pursuing our own dreams and making decisions that are based on someone else’s decision.”

Cornejo accented the need for younger and older people to care for their mental health: “It means making boundaries with parents, with family; you’re not responsible for everybody. It means acknowledging that there’s intergenerational trauma in our families. … Encourage your parents to seek a sobriety group, or an AA class in Spanish, if you see that they’ve struggled with self-medicating for a while.” Whereas mental health and self-care concepts are already well-integrated into Latinx lifestyles, Cornejo said that there remains a hesitancy of Latinxs to talk about mental illness: “I guess there’s the cultural belief that you really shouldn’t let weakness show, and you associate a lack of an ability to tough it out with weakness, and therefore sensitivity, anxiety, depression, PTSD, addiction, panic attacks, all these things … become scary.” “I think one way we could approach it is by describing them as medical, and as symptoms, rather than a diagnosis.”

Cornejo also shared insights gained from her living among immigrant communities, attending their places of work, worship and leisure, and listening to the stories of their struggles for dignity and justice in the cities of Flint and Miami. “When I traveled across the country, I [became] aware of the different kinds of jobs there are and the different ways of surviving.” Speaking of undocumented immigrants in Connecticut, she commented, “There’s so much undocumented diversity.” “I mean, undocumented immigrants do everything, right?” “I’ve learned a lot about undocumented people in Connecticut.”

About her next directions, Cornejo spoke of having struggled for many years with suicidal ideations, and of lately finding success in treatment for depression. “For the past few months, I have been feeling like I can make goals beyond just finding peace.” “I want to write this very good novel, that I’m working on now. … I’d like to move out of this apartment, and find a house with a backyard for my dog, and I hope to keep on writing the kinds of things that will help other queer kids, help the children of immigrants find a reason to keep going that isn’t their parents, or isn’t helping the community, or just surviving, but something that genuinely brings them some happiness, and not just peace.”

Contributed by Jacqueline Loss

Over four afternoons between March 2nd and 5th, the symposium “The Translation of Letters and Ideas in Cuba’s Republic” took place virtually at the University of Connecticut, Storrs. Sponsored by the Department of Literatures, Cultures and Languages, the UConn Humanities Institute, an Instituto Seed Grant, the John N. Plank Lecture Series, and the Office of Global Affairs, the event brought together more than a dozen scholars who reside in the United States, Spain, Cuba, and Mexico.

Organized by Jacqueline Loss (Professor of Literatures, Cultures, and Languages) and Reynaldo Lastre (Ph.D. student in the same department) the symposium served as a space to generate and elaborate upon debates related to the politics and poetics of translation in Cuba from a broad theoretical spectrum. The event’s online nature meant that despite the symposium’s seemingly specific topic, it attracted between 40-60 audience members from around the world on a daily basis, making the Q and A sessions especially productive.

The discussions were organized into four different panels. “Translation and Ethnography,” moderated by Jane Gordon (Professor of Political Science), explored racial debates within Cuba’s Republic, paying special attention to the way in which new “scientific” ideas penetrated literary discourse. Taking this topic as a point of departure, the panel “Disciplines and National Identity,” moderated by Melina Pappademos (Director of the Africana Studies Institute and Associate Professor of History), problematized concepts as dissimilar as choteo, respectability and refinement, universalization, the translation across Caribbean islands and languages, childhood, and the forging of psychoanalytical discourse through translation. As part of the second day’s program, Peter Constantine and Brian Sneeden (Professors of Literatures, Cultures, and Languages) familiarized conference participants with UConn’s leading translation program. The third panel, “Philosophies, Geopolitics, and Translation,” moderated by Samuel Martínez (Director of El Instituto and Professor of Anthropology), emphasized the impact of the Cold War in decisions regarding what to translate and how to translate, particularly in the framework of literary and cultural magazines. To a large extent, the authors and topics that were chosen to be translated were conditioned and reinforced by the ideological perspective of the editorial lines of these publications. Finally, with the panel “Traveling Discourses,” moderated by Guillermo Irizarry (Associate Professor at Literatures, Cultures, and Languages), the formal and ethical problems faced by translators emerged, as well as the extent to which figures such as José Martí have been “monumentalized” through translation.

As can be surmised, the discussions went back and forth between an analysis of literal translations and their political and ideological implications. For the particular case of Cuba between 1902 and 1959, the remarkable presence of the Cold War, the transition from the colonial system to a Republican government, growing cosmopolitanism, and the opening of the public sphere made the exercise of translation one of the emerging nation’s most important vehicles. The impact of these translations was not only seen within the framework of literary trends, but also in medicine (especially psychiatry and pediatrics), criminology, and ethnology.

Many of the presentations expanded the time frame of the Republic, connecting the politics of translation in the colonial and Republican periods and reflecting upon their repercussions in the present on the island and in the Diaspora. Just one of those approaches that exceeded the framework of the Republic of Cuba was evident in a brilliant keynote lecture by Rafael Rojas, professor and scholar at the Colegio de México, who addressed three ways in which the Cuban Revolution was reflected in translations of Cuban magazines in the 1960s.

While summarizing these exciting exchanges in a categorical and balanced way is challenging, it is worth remembering the questions that were posed at the end of the symposium—questions that we hope to return to within an edited volume on the topic of this conference: How does friendship influence the politics of translation? What can we learn about translation through anecdote? How does the practice of invisibility of translators impact the construction of disciplines? What role does solidarity have within the politics of translation? Who is allowed to enter into these relationships, and who is not? In what way can the desire to translate also imply violence, coercion, or manipulation? How does literature translate disciplines that were the product of translations in an emerging nation? To what extent might translation attempt to rectify practices of marginalization?

Contributed by Alonso Velásquez

El Instituto graduate students Nina Vásquez and Génesis Carela, together with UConn Political Science doctoral student Luis Beltrán-Alvarez and University of Oregon Philosophy doctoral student Rosa O’Connor-Acevedo, organized a virtual event on December 15, 2020, “Whose Heritage? What Heritage? Caribbean Black and Decolonial Feminist Confrontations against White and Heteropatriarchal Supremacies.” This event featured talks by Zoán Dávila-Roldán and Shariana Ferrer Núñez, two leaders of Puerto Rico’s pathbreaking Colectiva Feminista en Construcción. La Colectiva is a grassroots organization founded on Afro-feminist liberation, which advances struggles against heteropatriarchy and anti-Blackness on the island. Dávila and Ferrer were initially scheduled to visit UCONN for an extensive set of community-facing events in late March but these plans were abandoned in the early days of the pandemic shutdown. The Black Lives Matter justice mobilizations of 2020 gave added urgency to la Colectiva’s agenda. The presenters spoke from the island, focusing on black feminism, LGBTQIA rights, Women’s rights and the intersections of race, capitalism, and patriarchy.

In talking about the history of Puerto Rico, Dávila explored the theme of “Hispanidad,” forwarding an argument that the Spanish language and culture are colonial impositions, and that identitary constructs such as Hispanic, Latino or Latinx are all products of political violence. Race and patriarchy are the central axes of the colonial capitalist power structure. “Mestizaje” (racial mixture) functions similarly as a concept through which Puerto Ricans can ignore the racism behind anti-Black state policies, such as “Mano Dura” policing during the 1990s. Mano Dura exemplifies as well the use of Puerto Rico as a testing ground for policies later implemented on the mainland. Puerto Rico also has become the second largest housing authority in the US after New York City, with poor Black mothers among the most impacted. Dávila said that Black Puerto Rican lives only matter to island elites when and insofar as this helps elites sustain a neoliberal economic order imposed by the United States.

Ferrer Núñez said that Puerto Ricans should reexamine and question their culture, like their language, flag, and anthem. She said that Puerto Ricans must connect again with the heritages of their ancestors. Seeing how much of culture has been formed by colonization, she talked about how individuals could try to form their own identity.  She pointed to reggaetón as a symbol of music produced by and for the people.

The speakers view the pandemic as an issue manipulated by island politicians to inspire fear among the public and further isolate ordinary citizens from each other. Sensible limits on physical proximity only heighten the need to reach out and stay connected with others.

Contributed by Oxana Sidorova

As a fulfilment for my master’s thesis requirement in Latina/o and Latin American Studies, I am doing a research on indigenous language maintenance and the importance of language for cultural identity among the Coreguaje people of Colombia’s Amazonas region.[1] Additionally, I am collaborating with Coreguaje people in examining access to higher education in the United States for indigenous students from Colombia.

My original plan for the research included traveling to el resguardo Agua Negra, Caquetá, Colombia, and exploring educational practices and socio-cultural spaces in schools of the Coreguaje community. I imagined myself living in the community and doing field work, which was supposed to include general daily observations in el resguardo and interviews with community members about the Coreguaje linguistic and cultural environment. I was also planning to conduct daily community school and classroom observations, and analyze course and classroom materials and the general school environment. I proposed to do the interviews in person, with teachers, administrators, students, and parents, as well as with other community members, indigenous administrators, and community leaders.

Then came the COVID pandemic, which has made it impossible to meet my participants in person and do fieldwork in el resguardo.

Was there a way to conduct my research from Connecticut, adapting my research to a fully online mode? As I grapple with this challenge, my idea of fieldwork has been transformed: I have been collecting data through recorded video and audio interviews with Coreguaje community members via GoogleMeet, Skype, and WebEx, as well as through messages on WhatsApp. The conversations have involved, among others, Coreguaje community members living in Agua Negra and Florencia, towns located in Caquetá. Moreover, as a participant observer, I have taken part in online meetings of the group Memoria Ancestral, whose goals are addressing deculturation, detachment from indigenous ancestry, cultural and language loss, and the historical context of linguistic and cultural knowledge transmission. I have also watched recordings of indigenous online workshops and conferences. In order to triangulate interview data, I am using the recordings of online conferences organized by indigenous communities with Coreguaje participants, which allows me to see a broader contexts and issues related to the ones of my research that I have not considered myself. Similarly, the transcriptions of online group conversations with members of Coreguaje community about language and its role in both the everyday life and cultural maintenance of Coreguaje community help me find connections between the community’s perceptions of the language and identity and their implications and reflections in the personal lives of individuals. Additionally, documentary films about Coreguajes reflect the image of the community in the broader Colombian context as well as highlight what Coreguajes themselves find important to discuss about their culture. Finally, official documents and academic documents created in collaboration with the Coreguaje themselves reveal indigenous people’s own interpretations of the issues discussed, plus support decolonial approaches to doing research.

So far, I have interviewed three male members of the Coreguaje community, and I am hoping to get in touch with one or two Coreguaje women. Profesora Dennis Dussan from the Universidad de la Amazonía and her Coreguaje student, Elklin Piranga have introduced me to Coreguaje community members. I conducted interviews in Spanish and transcribed them for data analysis. Semi-structured interviews have lasted between one and two hours. My interviews are being shared with the Coreguaje community for future use in the form of relatoría (a collection of texts) on the topics of the research.

It is unfortunate that I could not travel to Colombian Amazon and do my research in person. I would have been able to learn so much more from my participants by being present in el resguardo. On the other hand, I feel lucky to have access to internet technology that makes it possible to get in touch with people remotely even in the Colombian Amazon. In spite of communication difficulties and technical challenges (power outages and bad internet connectivity), I have built good enough rapport with my participants to conduct good interviews. This gives me hope I can continue doing my research in person further at a doctorate level, when the COVID pandemic loses its power.

[1] Coreguaje is a Spanish term for Korébajü.

Contributed by Alonso Velásquez

Professor Mark Healey, Faculty Affiliate of El Instituto and the History Department’s Head, has been awarded a $50,000 Scholarship and Collaboration in Humanities and Arts Research (SCHARP) Breakthrough Award. The co-PI on the award is Tom Scheinfeldt, Professor of Digital Media and Design. According to the submitted proposal, the goal is to develop GLAMGear, a low cost, open source digitalization tool kit for underserved areas in the United States and the Global South. The project is a collaboration between UConn’s Greenhouse Studios, Department of History and the Connecticut Digital Archive.

In past decades, there has been extensive digitalization of archival collections, but Healey and Scheinfeldt saw a large obstacle to access for poor and remote communities: the cost of large scale digitalization, with large format scanners costing over $10,000.

GLAMGear plans to expand on a system developed by project partner “Bibliohack Plus,” which uses low cost, low cost, easily obtained materials. The expectation is that this technology will help preserve the cultural heritage of underserved communities and expand the resources available for scholarship.

Having spent part of his childhood in Argentina, Healey has become a specialist in its national history. He is currently working on the politics of water in the province of Mendoza. As part of this project, he came to appreciate the extensive records of the Irrigation Authority, key sources for the history of the area. After trying without success for around a year to get access to the archives in Mendoza, he finally got access a few days before he was scheduled to return to the United States. His teaming up with Argentine scholar Facundo Martín, to explore and digitize these sources, marked the beginning of GLAMGear.

Matías Butelman and Juan Pablo Suárez founded Bibliohack to make information more accessible to outsiders. Butelman and Martín traveled to UConn in March to plan GLAMGear, just before the COVID-19 pandemic restricted travel. Having experience building DIY plywood scanners for libraries and museums in Buenos Aires and elsewhere, they worked with Healey and Martín to build a scanner for Mendoza.

At UConn, PI Tom Scheinfeldt, a co-designer of the bibliography program Zotero and other digital tools, brings extensive experience leading projects and seeking external funding, beyond the UConn grant. The Connecticut Digital Archive, housed at UConn, has extensive experience digitizing material. It can be of great use for digitizing materials in Argentina.

Healey said in Global North countries, like the United States, there is a good record of recording material considered valuable; Argentina lags in digitization of historical resources, but Healey notes that neighboring Chile has gone some distance toward digital archiving through its “Memoria Chilena” initiative.

Through their SCHARP grant, Healey and Scheinfeldt hope to develop prototypes to develop open access tools for community institutions. The grant will enable the team to build another scanner in Connecticut, and permit them to develop a standard workflow for digitizing materials using the scanner and open access software.  Graduate students will be key players in the process, paid out of grant funds.

The project timeline goes from September 2021 to August 2023, with this year’s awards having been delayed due to pandemic-related disruptions.