The World is on Fire

In November 2016, I was conducting part of my dissertation fieldwork and participating as a “formerly young” member of a month-long youth theater lab in Eastern Kentucky. I briefly returned home to vote in the US presidential election, and while driving back into town on election day, I took this photo of burning mountains next to the highway using a low-resolution camera on an old smartphone that my grandmother bought me. My ethnographic research includes interviewing and spending time with youth media makers and arts educators in media education programs and public regional events in Central Appalachia. This research also focuses on intergenerational mentorship relationships and networks that enable and support creative aspirations and livelihoods.

The participatory theater lab and the performance of our collaborative final production were both a way to process the various political and ecological wildfires impacting people's lives, and the continued uncertainty of how to move forward with hope and solidarity amidst numerous destructive forces that literally threaten the lives of people, ecosystems, and democratic principles and practices. The play combined different modes of storytelling and different metaphorical and literal themes around the subject of fire. Our stories focused on the emotional and intellectual fires burning internally in response to the political uncertainty that lies ahead, raising questions about identity, ancestors, responsibility, firearms, and collective action. Throughout the workshop and the final production, family and community members were inquisitive and supportive of these young people's (and even of this "formerly young" person's) voices and perspectives even while fires raged outside and elsewhere.

I have become increasingly aware of and pay attention to the political ecology of the very local contexts of my field sites and how they are connected to, interact with, and affected by global systems and contexts. These local contexts include "natural" disasters like water contamination, floods, drought and forest fires, which also invoke the often unspoken specter of climate change as well as social, political, and economic uncertainties like racial and gender tensions, the 2016 presidential election, unemployment and poverty, and the "post-coal" transition. Many regional discussions and programs emphasize the promise of technology and development for redesigning the economic landscape, which also connect to the global media ecology and the human and natural resources that support it.

This blurry, smoky forest fire photo, which I took through my windshield with limited but sufficient technology, represents these and other interconnected issues that affect the daily lives and mobilities of young people in the Appalachian region. Many rural youth, if they have access to transportation at all, must drive long distances to hang out with friends or participate in media arts opportunities; and while social media and other online platforms can help bridge geographical distance, rural access to high-speed internet varies in availability and cost and young people have different access to digital devices and technologies.

Fire is a potent symbol for both creative and destructive powers whether human, ecological, planetary, or beyond. This photo reminds me that, even when the world on fire, we can still take positive action to deflect and dampen the flames that threaten destruction while trying to fan the flames that hearten and give hearth. Fear is a natural response to fires that are out of control, and I personally know that fear as well as anyone else. However, it serves a fleeting purpose, which is to motivate, and to dwell too long on the dangers without mindful deliberation and action is to be consumed by it.

Commentary on Rachel Tanur's Works: Cuban Boy with Bike and Game

As a kid in the 1980s, two of my favorite activities were riding bikes and visual technologies that enabled access to other worlds. I also have a lifelong interest in Latin American cultures and travelled to Central and South America in college and graduate school. I am currently conducting dissertation research with youth media makers in Appalachia and how they use visual art and media to envision possibilities for themselves and the region. So when I saw this photo by Rachel Tanur, I was immediately drawn into the narrow focus of the “Cuban Boy with Bike and Game” and shared a similar captivation as she captured on his intent face. Aesthetically, I love the contrasting texture and neutral tones of the brick street and building with the vibrant colors and sleekness of the quite new-looking bicycle. I also love the seeming contrast of the human-powered transportation technology of the bicycle juxtaposed with the electronic video game; however, both represent different forms of mobility in relation to Appadurai's notion of different -scapes or movements of people, technologies, etc. The boy is also wearing neutral tones, but his physical and visual connection to both devices and his level of concentration prevent the camouflage of his presence in the doorway. The continuous line from his elbow, his knee, his hands, to the game and the handlebar of the bike make it seem as if they are all one entity. The fact that there are no other people around furthers the metaphor and illusion that he is in his own little world. Does he notice Rachel? Do they speak? There is also mystery as to what game he is playing, on what device, how he got it, why he is playing in that location, and where the bike will take him next. The game could be an escape from chores or even harsher realities, but it also connects the boy to larger global systems, including capitalism, in spite of the fact that he lives in Cuba. Of course, we do not know his exact geo-political location based on the content of the photo, but we are still given clues about the Global South context in which he bridges assumptions about technological access and engagement. Similarly, young people in the Appalachian region and the media content they produce similarly challenge assumptions about who they are and how their people and place are represented. There is also an important temporal dimension to this photo given the time period it was likely taken (mid-late 1990s?) and the rapid acceleration of technology and electronic devices globally. Tanur captured this particular moment and this particular game, but the underlying theme of ubiquitous technology and its association with youth can be applied to almost any time period. Therefore, it provides an interesting opportunity for the viewer to imagine and insert newer games or information/communication technologies into the picture with ease. I could list examples from the current moment of 2018, but it would be more productive to invite viewers to fill in the blanks appropriate to their own temporal present: ___, ___, ___, etc. As a feminist scholar who teaches media literacy and production to teenage girls, I also reimagine the scene with a Cuban girl instead and ponder what she might hold in her hands so intently. Technologies are often gendered, and digital technologies are usually represented as a masculine area of expertise and occupational possibility. Access to physical mobility is also a gendered experience, so the image of a “Cuban Girl with Game and Bike” would disrupt multiple narratives about circulations of knowledge, technologies, and gendered bodies. What assumptions would this image challenge, and what questions would it raise? Would it have mattered to her that Rachel was a woman photographer interested in her story? The window of possibilities that Rachel Tanur captured with this photo and the technology that produced it are simultaneously time-specific and timeless, place-based and placeless, gendered and genderless.