An understanding of pattern, affect- five senses in process, disrupted by what Lefebvre understood to be the simulacra- the present. This exercise as brilliantly described by J.Stein as a methodology can be used to indicate power relations that may be connotated as natural, or part of the landscape.

what happens when we sit outside of meatpacking factories? what can we see as part of the natural landscape- and how did or does it collapse in a time of crisis? Due to the limitations of COVID, and the actual historical development of meatpacking factories, the “rural” is preferred over the urban for these plants. It is argued that there is a correlation between locale of the factory and union organizing potential (Horowitz 1997).

I created a visual aid to stimulate affect by manipulating pattern with color distortion. I surveyed top news reports that addressed the lack of PPE and COVID-19 death– and compared them to pre deindustrialization and pre consolidated meatpacking areas. In the 20th century, meatpacking factories shifted between four to five major companies until the 1980’s. Following, these factories became part of multinational conglomerates steeped in global logistics, detached from local sourcing of animal products. These factories began to employee folks waiting to be in status all over the global the south. With that development, these rural factory communities situated and organized continuous waves of immigrant contributions toward development- creating a new territory.

What is silenced when people as workers, as contributors to an environment are not shown? What is amplified when we see infrastructure as the important aspect to reconcile during a time of organized abandonment? I gathered these questions and placed them with Empire’s Tracks by Manu Karuka (2019)- Karuka would argue that the amplification of infrastructure dominating the narrative of the failures of these processing plants lends itself to a particular counter-sovereignty.

Hi Everyone,

I lost a part of myself this semester working through these ideas with my partner Zaca, but I wanted to share a methodology that we came up with and extend it to how I am looking at my project.

Funk is a way out, and a way in- George Clinton, Parliament, and founder of P-Funk

Santi bon, Koute Che (If it smells good, it costs alot) – Haitian Proverb.

Funk? Rematriation? Whose mama are we talking about? Katherine Mckittrick’s uplift of Sylvia Wynter’s prolific manuscript Black Metamorphosis locates Black cultural production as a space to consider the limits of western liberal humanism. Through Wynter, Mckittrick reads Black music- grooving- as a practice of collaborative rebellion. Funk music, birthed from discontent of liberal social reform, also known as the civil rights movement, attempted to build a universal resistance[1]. Funk, disrupted commercial rock and jazz as path out, measured by the virtuosity of the bass instead of the lead guitar. Funk(y) works to repeat to us the resonance, harshness, depth of a tone, and asks us to build on that tone as a foundation. That tone works as bare life, and we as listeners are led to follow its witnessing of continuous dispossession as that tone does not initially mark its “home” within a major scale. If I can make the comparison here, in Funk, there is no “home” as a destination, for there is no melody, but there are distorted harmonies that are relational yet opaque. Funk represents the residual essence of the body engulfed in arduous labor. The smell of hard work, the funkiness, of someone- especially in the tradition of the African Diaspora, works to make us catch the afterlives of slavery, plantation economies, and resistance to displacement

through autonomous struggle[1]. In African cosmology, as per the Kikongo, funk represents to the will to work hard to achieve resolution[2]. Where the west has found the duress from resistance to be a catalyst toward depression or nihilism, Funk asserts that this dissonance is necessary to reach the end, the undoing[3]. Indigenous epistemology reminds us that sovereignty is not relational to capitalist production[4]. Thus, when we refer to rematriation[5]– we activate it as methodology that resists a patriarchal demand for the land to work for us, or work for the land. Embracing Eve Tuck’s use of rematriation in conversation with educational curriculum, we understand rematriation to force an ethical relationality that “understands mutual implications, puts indigenous epistemologies at the forefront, and requires a public form of memory”. The Funk of Rematriation speaks to how relationality (where for our work we place in land), and the arduous work that this calls for, between human and non-human entities, is where we must pivot from to arch toward liberation in co-habitation with our ruins.

Form

            Our methodology or practice is influenced by the wakework defined and necessitated by Christina Sharpe, the call of analytical reinvention by Katherine McKittrick in that “reinvention is the process through which enslaved and post slavery black communities in the New World came to live and construct black humanity within the context of racial violence—a range of rebellious acts that affirmed black humanity and black life were and are imperative to reinvention”.  Mckittrick for this practice sets the metronome for how we walk on these demonic grounds. Blues epistemology as constructed by Clyde Woods reminds us that witnessing happens outside the spectacle. In Funk, the space for critical observation is between the uprisings, the lead silence between the grooves. Tiffany Lethabo King’s intervention of Black Shoals demonstrates where to put our lighthouse on this land.  As we tread between different cosmologies that define our existence, we lean on Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, who reminds us that the linearity of time is not our own- it is a colonial project stemmed to anti (ourselves). Therefore, when we plan, labor and dream- it spans generation before and after us. We also hold as Cuiscanqui would also ask us to hold, that these forms or ways we represent ourselves to perform relationality are fictive, they have been created, contested, and will continue to do so. We hold these elements as imperative because it speaks toward the work of doing and undoing fragmented histories in relationship to the land.

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Nebraska- from wild west to Desakota*, funkyness of the ‘rural’

I began my project wanting to undo what I perceived to be a silencing of the cultural landscape of Nebraska. I naively remembered the film, Nebraska, as limited but a critique on the temporal understanding of this region- dry, deindustrialized, ruins. Initially, I determined to describe the digital landscape of Saline County, as the counter-narrative. This work was too easy.

In class, Ruthie proposed the intervention that shifted this project from sketch to frame, she asked, “what happens if you see the railroad and the internet as the same”. So, I had to ask, what exactly did the railroad mean for this region (meatpacking development). And what role does the internet play for this ‘rural’ in a de industralized sentiment, (promotion of these counties by immigrant economic development). And what if I questioned this ‘rural’ detached perception- what can come of that?

In “Forgotten Place and the Seeds of Grassroots Planning” (2008)- Ruthie asks us to look toward the scaling up (internet) “how can people who inhabit forgotten places scale up their activism from intensely localized struggles to something less atomized and therefore possessed of a significant capacity for self-determination”

So, if I play with Saline County as the desakota to Lincoln, and other larger city territories of the area- what kind of claims can be made? Surely, this work has been done by the youth which is what indeed galvanized their organizing from online to the Smithfield factory on behalf of their parents who have precarious status at the worksite.

Following this exercise- I decided to play with documents against archive that may have not inherently matched together. I leaned on Saidiya Hartman’s critical fabulation, Tina Campt’s listening to the images, and an article by Philip Norton entitled “Tony’s Oldies: Visualising Vincentian Diasporic Memory” to insert image against narration.

I started with the vernacular photography on this website for the county – http://negenweb.net/NESaline/ A community based and curated online database. Similar to Tony’s Oldies, the website serves the purpose to support “genealogy questions”- but what is curated are letters, pictures from ceremonies, gravesites, maps, and other odd digitized entries that the folks of Saline believe to define Saline for themselves.

The only nonwhite photo I could find on this archive was the photo and house of Henry Burden. Burden as per this particular narrative was to have escaped the confederacy, joined the union and made his way west to settle. He was the “first” Black person to settle the area according to this archive. Similarly to Norton’s observation, archives can reify colonial and in this case settler colonial histories and note the resistance to it. As I worked to triangulate Burden’s photo with other Black specific archives by the state of Nebraska- Burden’s home was part of the underground railroad, something not mentioned on the NE Saline county site.

I decided to read two items of this online archive within each other- bolding the words that stood out to me to see if it would help me ask additional questions about what it meant for this family to be a new and integral part of the landscape of Saline County.