Pipicha | From the chapter “Immigration Herbology” in New Narratives on the People of America: Immigration, Race and Dispossession (Hopkins Press, 2024) by Cynthia Santos Briones
New Narratives on the Peopling of America: Immigration, Race, and Dispossession (Hopkins Press, 2024), a collection of 23 essays and works of art, moves beyond traditional narratives of immigration to ask, “Who are the American people? We are tackling the fundamental question of “. States, and how did they get here?
In response, editors T. Alexander Aleinikov and Alexandra Delano Alonso brought together scholars, activists, journalists, legal scholars, and artists to rethink conventional wisdom about national identity and belonging. The resulting book places immigrants within a larger context of forced displacement and deprivation and expands our understanding of collective history as one that must include many stories told by many voices. To do.
This is a conversation that began at the Solberg Institute for Migration and Migration, co-founded by Delano Alonso, previously co-directed, and now headed by Aleinikov. The editors bring this spirit of dialogue and considerable expertise to New Narratives. Mr. Aleinikov co-chaired President Barack Obama's Immigration Task Force in 2008, served as acting United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees from 2010 to 2015, and is currently dean of the New School for Social Research. is in charge of Delano Alonso is a professor of global studies at the New School. Her current research focuses on immigrant solidarity practices across Mexico and the United States.
Paloma Griffin, a political science doctoral candidate at the New School, sat down with the editors to discuss the opportunities and challenges of pursuing a pluralistic account of American identity.
The interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Paloma Griffin: One of the most unique things about this book is that each chapter evokes a very different narrative structure. It differs from traditional policy analysis and political theory and includes very intimate and personal narratives, storytelling, art, poetry, and photography. What do you think this sequential narrative structure adds to the topic at hand?
Alexandra Delano Alonso: This was a project about not only how stories are constructed, but how they are told by whom and to whom. Some of my contributions to this project are from activists, immigrants directly affected by border violence, artists, and others who are not always heard and are not necessarily in direct or deep conversation with academic reporting. It was about bringing in voices that weren't being done. I think personal stories can help us all reflect on our place in this conversation and realize that everyone is involved in some way. Alison Dorsey's essay explores how we can help, not just in the sense of understanding the experiences of others, but also in the sense of knowing that what affects the experiences of others also affects society as a whole. It touches on this question of how to act with empathy. Different narrative forms allow this imagination and this mutuality to be expressed more fully.
Griffin: Throughout the book, we talk about people who have typically been isolated by American history, including white settlers, white immigrants, slaves, non-white immigrants, religious minorities, sexual and sexual minorities, undocumented immigrants, and indigenous peoples. is featured. This is hard work. Why did we bring in all these accounts?
Delano Alonso: I think what's interesting about this project is that it's not intended to be the final word. It's called a “new story” and it's expected that other stories will continue to emerge. So I see it more as an entry point. Although this book is published by an academic press, we hope to spark a broader conversation by including authors from photography, art, poetry, and non-academic fields.
Griffin: I'm really interested in how you discuss both indigeneity and immigration. Often these groups find themselves in direct conflict with each other. This book acknowledges that conflict, but in no way pits the two against each other. What unites them for you? A common struggle for citizenship, rights, or something more?
T. Alexander Aleinikov: When people realize that they can build a common cause by telling together issues of economic and social justice, stories of exclusion and marginalization, we are here to see true progressive progress. We could create a movement, a movement that would unite around the settler narrative. colonialism etc. Now, in my opinion, that's not enough. We can't just tell the stories of people who feel marginalized. We also need to tell the stories of the millions of immigrants who came willingly, legally, and happily and made this country their home, as well as those who have lived in this country for generations. there is.
Delano Alonso: What is clear from much of this book is that there is a legacy of structural violence and colonialism that affects both immigrants and nationals alike, which silos the conversation around immigration. That means you can't. And if change is to come, these need to be addressed together at a systemic level.
Griffin: I want to talk about property deprivation, which is also in the title of this book. This is a term commonly associated with Indigenous peoples in conversations about healing and restoration. How do you think deprivation has affected the development of our country and American identity?
Aleinikov: For me, dispossession is clearly related to the loss of land and territory, and settler colonialism. This has huge implications for law and policy. Because the entire legal system is based on the idea that Congress and the president have complete authority to constitute the American people. The Fourteenth Amendment stopped this structuring based on race, but the perspective of immigration and Native American regulation shows that this overall power still exists. Starting from the perspective that there is a problem with the current possession claim itself opens up new possibilities. This provides a real tool for questioning the full power exercised by those who, legally speaking, cannot truly claim “good title” to the land they own. Second, deprivation is not just about land, but also culture, language, and perspective. This goes beyond indigeneity. The central narratives we are questioning and problematizing here seek to ask people to abandon their stories and ways of being in the world.
Griffin: As someone who is both Indigenous and comes from an immigrant family, the issue of dispossession can feel very alienating. In North America, it's not something I particularly identify with owning. But it's useful to consider deprivation in a more complex and perhaps compound way, including language loss, as you're talking about. For example, I can't speak Spanish fluently. My family chose to give that up so I could come here and be accepted.
Delano Alonso: Marco Saavedra's essay on cover art does not directly mention the word deprivation, but he does say elsewhere that if we “stripped” ourselves of our privileges and citizenship… It raises the question: What will happen? What if we all considered ourselves “illegal”? This law is immoral and illegal in the sense that we must be outside the law because this is stolen land.
Griffin: Some of my favorite interventions in the book are where the immigrant authors wrestle with their hopes and dreams and fears about America. Why is it so important to address those fears? What questions does doing so raise about the narrative that currently exists?
Delano Alonso: Ruth Milkman's chapter centers on the question of how to deal with both fear and opportunity at the same time. Fear of those who are already settled or who have historically had privilege or advantage. If these concerns are not addressed and considered alongside narratives of opportunity and solidarity with other groups, they will go unheard and there will be no room for dialogue.
Griffin: I spent a lot of this book asking myself what happens when we lack a coherent, shared story. What is the value of storytelling to a country like the United States, and what happens when we lack it?
Aleynikov: I don't know if we can agree on a complete story. What we have to do is be willing to embrace the plurality of stories that allow us to tell all the different parts of the story. We are not a melting pot. We are a multicultural society with many understandings of who we are and how we got here. What we must fight against is a single narrative that suppresses and marginalizes the stories of others.
Delano Alonso: It's more about recognizing what has been excluded, what has not been made visible, and the costs of oppression. One of my very favorite chapters is by Maggie Loredo and Jill Anderson, who tell a larger story that protects complexities and contradictions and creates space for connections and commonalities across different experiences and struggles. I am proposing the idea. You can see some of these possibilities in the different spaces and practices documented in this book. In my chapter, I will highlight some of these examples from my experience living in Queens. Finally, I would like to quote Walt Whitman, who speaks of America as “the greatest poem.” I picked out “The Greatest,” which has imperial overtones, but any national myth is a poem with a lot of room for interpretation, a space where other voices can enter the conversation and fill the silences. I think it's helpful to think of it as a poem. New things and changes over time.
Aleinikov: That's a really nice use of Whitman's words. And now he has one famous Whitman quote: Well, I'm contradicting myself. I am big and include many people. ” Many chapters (including those by Justin Guest, Ebu Patel, and Neil Agarwal) address the issue of how the state continues to seek to make some groups “white.” . Patel's chapter shows how Islamic symbols and myths can also be central to our understanding of the United States. We can be America and still move from a Christian nation to one that includes Judeo-Christian ethics and Abrahamic religions.
Griffin: One thing I often hear from my students and colleagues is the idea that a just, equitable, and equal country cannot be built on a history of discrimination and exclusion. I'm always a little disappointed when I hear them say, “This country can't get better.'' How would you respond to that idea? If your students pick up this book tomorrow, do you hope they come away with a different answer?
Aleynikov: I think that's wrong. Because no matter how bad something starts, it doesn't mean it can't be improved. You learn the lessons of the past. We learn that slavery was wrong. We learn that it was wrong to drive people off the land. We learn that deporting people was wrong. And you make a difference. But the idea that something started wrong doesn't mean it's never right. All countries started out as some kind of mistake in the sense that they were based on some kind of overarching narrative to justify the occupation of some kind of land. The goal is to make it better, to create a more perfect union.
Delano Alonso: We hope that our readers, in the face of the most complex, challenging and sometimes overwhelming problems, come up with inspiration and ideas about what is possible and what each of us can do. I hope you like it. There are many examples here of people who have thought very deeply about these issues, lived the experience, and developed a path to resistance, a path to change, without a romantic ideal that “everything will be fine.” there is. Violence, oppression and discrimination will always exist. And the question is how to identify them, how to describe them, and how to respond to them, while recognizing what is at stake for everyone.
For more information on the cover art for New Narratives on the People of America, check out the essay by artist Marco Saavedra.
