Hot commodities, cheap labor: women of color in the academy.
In 2008, after immeasurable distress, I resigned from my faculty position in a women's studies program. I had recently been awarded tenure at a large urban university in a city I love. I had developed numerous close friendships at the university, and I felt that my research and teaching were meaningful both to me and to my students. However, for nearly three years I had experienced harassment and discrimination, in both subtle and extremely overt ways, by the programs acting director, a white woman without tenure, whose own position had been converted from a contract instructor to the tenure track in exchange for serving as program director. Presumably either threatened by my seniority over her or uncomfortable with my racial identity as a woman of color, or some combination of the two, she seemed to do everything she could to exclude me and to undermine my position in the program and in the university. I was denied program resources and bullied in front of colleagues and students, rumors were spread about me to colleagues within the program, and the submission of my tenure file was obstructed. For a period of time I attempted to counter her discriminatory treatment, going as far as filing grievances with both the Office of Human Resources and the university's Office for Affirmative Action, as well as participating in three separate mediation processes over the course of seven months. In the end, acknowledging that the problem was greater than that represented by this individual, and that the administration seemed unable or unwilling to address the issue in any meaningful way, I made the difficult decision to leave what had become an increasingly hostile work environment.
Racism and sexism in the academy are systemic, supported by the entire institutional structure and rendered invisible to many by the complex workings of the academic marketplace. In the years since my resignation I've realized that my story is not anomalous, but all too common for women of color in higher education. In today's global economy the restructuring of academic institutions and their subsequent privatization result in a changing educational environment characterized by shifts in labor relations, transforming the nature and effects of racism and sexism in academia. As the global free market assumes primacy within the university system, previous commitments to social justice within disciplines like women's and gender studies are often replaced by conflict-management models of the corporate world. In this essay I am most concerned with the effects of this restructuring on women-of-color faculty, who have historically been marginalized within academia and expected to perform reproductive labor (i.e., act as "service providers") for the benefit of others. Even while the language of diversity often dominates discussions about higher education, race and gender continue to structure the experiences of women-of-color faculty, who, as Chandra Talpade Mohanty suggests, remain subject to a revolving door policy. As she states, "while the discourse of multiculturalism is in full force in the academy these days, the practice of multiculturalism actually facilitates the recolonization of communities marginalized on the basis of class, and racialized gender." (2) Thus, how such recolonization occurs varies depending on context and the specific institutional practices associated with addressing "multiculturalism" and "diversity," which, within corporate models, often rely on individualistic rather than structural understandings and analyses of power. What is the changing nature of higher education--and women's and gender studies in particular--within a neoliberal political economy in which the university functions much like other apparatuses of the state, and how do these changes affect women of color?
Women of color in women's and gender studies have endured a long history of exclusionary racist practices, tokenization, and discrimination. Since the inception in 1969 of women's studies programs in the United States, women-of-color writers, scholars, and activists have identified and resisted multiple forms of oppression and challenged the methodological practices within the field that sustain the exclusion and stereotyping of women of color and women of the global South. Scholars including Gloria Anzaldua, Barbara Smith, Audre Lorde, Mitsuye Yamada, Barbara Christian, and many others have repeatedly critiqued both overt and covert forms of racism within the field of women's studies. As Shirley Geok-lin Lim argues, until very recently the field of women's studies has neglected the study of women of color, eliding our contributions to social movements, including feminist movements, and rendering invisible the specific cultural contexts and communities in which many of us work. (3) In response to the challenges made by women of color, many women's and gender studies programs have shifted to make race and the experiences of women of color more central. However, these gestures are often deeply problematic, relying on additive approaches, occurring with little or no institutional structural framework, or shaped by an imperial feminism fraught with assumptions about the labor of women of color. In other words, simply adding race and women of color to white-dominated programs and paradigms, without transforming the contexts, actually undermines the potential contributions of women of color in women's and gender studies. As Sandra Gunning suggests, the actual meanings and consequences of the inclusion of faculty members of color within academic departments have not received adequate attention. (4) Also, when white, western, Eurocentric feminist frameworks are taken to be the standard, and sometimes the only legitimate feminist frameworks, then the presence and work of women of color are even further marginalized.
Using my own experience as a point of entry, in this essay I explore some of these dynamics of the restructured academy, particularly the gendered and racialized processes of exploitation that consolidate the outsider status of women of color in women's and gender studies programs. Such processes result in a peculiar contradictory position in which women of color may find ourselves perceived as both "hot commodities" within the academic marketplace and "cheap labor" designated to do the dirty work. Examining the events that resulted in my resignation allows me to elucidate the structural dynamics that shaped my interactions with a white program director within a mostly white women's studies program in my previous academic position. Similar to Roxana Ng's discussion of her own experience of racial harassment within a Canadian university, it allows me to draw attention to the power dynamics that structure our experiences of racialized gender. (5) It also provides a framework for what Himani Bannerji refers to as a "situated critique"--beginning from our experiences not as isolated selves, but with a sense of being in the world, considering social, political, and historical contexts and connections. (6)
THE "HOME" QUESTION
Mechanisms in the academy are geared to the maintenance of structural power for white people as a whole. (7)
In "Genealogies of Community, Home, and Nation" Mohanty brings together questions of home, belonging, nation, and community to discuss globalization and multicultural feminism. She describes her own experience with what she refers to as the "home" question (when are you going home?) as well as the profoundly political implications for US women of color of the assumptions that structure our sense of (not) belonging and (in)ability to cross borders. For women of color in women's and gender studies home is complicated. Over the past decades mainstream feminists have often claimed a universal "sisterhood," implying that coming to women's studies and feminism is like "coming home," an idea that has been critiqued by scholars including Anzaldua, Smith, and Gayatri Spivak. And Mari Matsuda makes the point that members of campus are encouraged to think of universities as "home," presupposing a sense of personal security and belonging. (8) However, this is not always the case for those of us marginalized within the field and within the academy. In fact, in the US educational system and within mainstream feminism, women of color, immigrant women, and women of the global South continue to be perceived as outsiders and interlopers. In addition racism and anti-immigrant sentiments may shape our experiences within the field of women's studies.
In the fall of 2000 I was hired as an assistant professor in a small women's studies program at a public state university. This university attracted me because so many of its students are nontraditional--including many returning women students, working mothers, and activists. Though I was not aware of it at the time, I was hired during a period of intense conflict and upheaval within the program over issues of race and racism. During the year of the hire, as I learned later, students of color had organized against the program and its director, arguing that they had been subject to racist treatment and that the program was not a welcoming place for women of color. Calling themselves the Raging Exotics, this group of students of color protested what they identified as racist exclusionary practices in the curricular offerings as well as specific incidents of racism they had experienced or observed in women's studies classes, and they demanded that the (at that time) all-white faculty be accountable to issues of race and racism. They also cited numerous examples of oppressive encounters and interactions with the program's director and faculty members that they believed violated their rights as students of the university.
Such was the climate into which I was hired, through a special diversity initiative designed to attract and retain faculty of color, since the university reportedly had a poor track record with this given the small number and extremely low retention rate of faculty of color in tenure-track positions. I had recently attained my PhD and was the first tenure-track hire in the program, as the director at that time had been granted tenure in another department many years earlier. I was also hired, it became clear to me early on, not only to teach about race and women-of-color studies and to attract and mentor students of color but to be the programs woman of color, effectively embodying their commitment to diversity.
Benjamin Baez discusses this phenomenon for faculty of color, who are often commodified and "overused" by their own institutions as a means to portray a commitment to diversity. (9) As such I was expected to perform not as a person within the institution, but as a persona. This meant performing diversity and often being interchangeable with other women-of-color faculty at the institution, as Bannerji suggests is the case for many scholars of color. (10) And I was expected to help the director and other faculty members address the charges of racism leveled at them by the Raging Exotics and other students of color. This was made obvious to me in many ways over my first two years at the university. My contract stipulated that I was to develop and teach a course on "Women of Color" for the program, as well as other courses in which race and women of color would be central, such as "Asian American Women's Studies," and "Race, Class, Gender, Sexuality." I was assigned the task of "managing" the students of color protesting the program. When several of these students stated that they did not want to take courses from white instructors whom they considered racist, I was asked by the programs director to do independent studies with them so that they could fulfill their degree requirements with a woman-of-color faculty member. I was also charged with helping other faculty to "diversify" their course offerings and syllabi, involving the tedious task of reviewing numerous syllabi and course materials and offering helpful suggestions for inclusion of women of color and issues of race. When the faculty within the program decided to schedule a series of antiracism workshops, I was asked to take the lead in organizing these workshops and securing funding to offer them as optional programming for all affiliated faculty. Finally, I was required to represent the program in countless ways. In my first two years I served on eleven committees and was often asked by the program's director to attend events in her place, including orientation programs for new students. (11) There was even a front-page story about me in the university's newspaper, touting me as the women's studies program's "first woman of color!," which one administrator took as evidence of the success of the diversity initiative through which I had been hired.
As a mixed-race Asian Pacific American (APA) woman, focusing my research and teaching on women-of-color feminisms and transnational feminisms, I believe I was deemed a good choice not only because of my qualifications but perhaps also because the other faculty in the all-white program were initially not threatened by my presence. As Maria P. P. Root and others have argued, mixed-race individuals are often tokenized in contexts where other people of color might be seen as too different, too foreign, or too "exotic." (12) And Mari Matsuda suggests that there exists a strange preference in hiring for Asian Americans, particularly women, who appear to be assimilated and nonthreatening. (13) This might explain why the director once asked me to make copies for her and how and why she and other colleagues felt it was perfectly acceptable to request that I "update" and "diversify" their syllabi for them. In addition my status as the only Asian Pacific American woman in the program--in fact the only woman of color in the program at that time--contributed to both my sense of isolation and my tokenization within the program.
In those first years I fluctuated between desperately wanting to quit academia altogether--given my tremendous workload, isolation, and lack of support--and feeling extremely grateful to have a job at all (especially one in women's studies, where I could continue my teaching and research with a focus on women of color). I want to highlight here that the isolation I experienced, along with other women-of-color faculty in positions across the country, is distinct from the general isolation most new faculty experience, particularly in academic contexts that stress individualism and competition for resources. As Mary Romero suggests, women of color in academia often face extreme hostility from white students and faculty colleagues as we are seen as benefiting from affirmative action. (14) For example, some of my white colleagues at that time mentioned to me more than once that I was an affirmative action hire, implying that I had gotten the job only because of my racial identity. They seemed to believe this despite the fact that I was the first person hired within the program through a national search and the only faculty member at that time with a PhD in women's studies. Some of us may find ourselves in a double bind between feeling angry about being characterized as having been admitted only by virtue of our race/gender--and internalizing this belief to some extent--and fighting to prove our worth and competence. This process, discussed by Yolanda Flores Niemann, involves what she refers to as "stereotype threat," or being vulnerable to internalizing negative stereotypes even when we do not accept such stereotypes. (15) We become acutely aware of the fact that every action we take will be judged according to impossible standards and stigmatized as a marker of our deviance or difference. And, as Shirley Hune notes, Asian Pacific American women and women-of-color faculty in general are subject to a campus life of close scrutiny. (16)
For Asian Pacific American women in the academy stereotypes of the model minority contribute to a culture in which we are viewed as both incompetent (and simply there because of our race) and overly competent (and therefore threatening to the establishment). According to the myth of the model minority, Asian Pacific Americans do not experience racism or discrimination but have "made it." Moreover, we are seen as opportunistic, even threatening, especially when we speak out against the oppressive conditions and discrimination we encounter. This stereotype remains pervasive and continues to mask challenges Asian Pacific American women face in the academy. (17) In addition the image of the model minority is overdetermined, as Sumi Cho suggests, by associated images of submissiveness to authority and political passivity. (18) Asian Pacific American women are also frequently stereotyped as exotic and overly sexualized. Such controlling images contribute to a culture in which Asian Pacific Americans are objectified and may be victimized by overt discrimination and hate violence. More commonly, however, anti-Asian sentiments are subtle, and the stereotypes discussed above may lead to a number of microaggressions, as well as Asian Pacific American women in academia being taken for granted and overlooked for advancement. (19) Moreover, nonconformity to these controlling images frequently leads to repercussions. Asian Pacific American women in academia report that peers often expect them to behave in stereotypical ways, and they face negative reactions when perceived as too outspoken or "aggressive." (20) Matsuda discusses these reactions:
When the Asian woman ... decides to challenge the judgment of her senior colleague, he will be as shocked as if the Xerox machine had chosen to criticize the substance of a memo. The woman who was hired to be good and smart and silent except in scripted appearances is suddenly acting like an equal. Any Asian woman who has been there knows there is a special wrath reserved for those moments. It is disproportionate to the substantive challenge. It is enraged. It is physical. It is scary. (21)
The unexpected psychological aggression many women of color experience in academia when we step out of our expected roles has the effect of reminding us that we are not at home, but in fact, as Matsuda points out, "tenants at sufferance." (22) Even in women's and gender studies Asian Pacific American women encounter these controlling images. According to Karen Pyke and Denise Johnson, the construction of hegemonic femininity, extolled in the dominant culture, privileges white middle-class heterosexual women's expressions of gender and results in the marginalization of women of color (associated with subordinate, often racialized, femininities). (23) And challenging racism and other forms of oppression in the academy, for women-of-color faculty, results in being perceived as troublemakers. (24)
In addition to the pressures I faced to perform racialized gender, I experienced other obstacles including a severe lack of resources. It was not until my third year in the program that I discovered that the special diversity initiative through which I had been hired had actually provided a large sum of money to the program to be used for my retention. However, no one had informed me of this fund, and no stipulations were placed on the use of the money. The funds were never made available to me, despite my struggles to locate funding to attend conferences and set up the special "diversity" lectures and events I was required to organize. When I look back now, I realize that nothing concrete was ever done to retain me at the institution. While the university claimed to have a commitment to recruiting and retaining faculty of color, and provided a budget for the so-called retention of new "diversity hires," I cannot think of one instance where the administration actually attempted to retain me or any other faculty of color I knew at the university. In fact, it was just the opposite, with countless faculty of color leaving over the eight years I spent there due to denial of tenure and promotion, lack of resources and support, and constant reminders of our lack of belonging. To my knowledge the administration did nothing to counter other job offers or the misery, harassment, and isolation so many of us experienced. Our workloads were often significantly greater than those of our white colleagues due to the hidden labor associated with mentoring students of color and performing the extra service work associated with diversification, and we were required to work longer hours to meet the demands of our positions. As Baez demonstrates in his research, opportunities for advancement within academic institutions are often significantly reduced for faculty of color, due to excessive service demands. (25) Gunning describes the potentially debilitating service demands placed on faculty of color who are isolated as the "only one" (for example, the only Asian Pacific American), sometimes resulting in blurring the line between inclusion and mere tokenism. (26) And Gitahi Gititi discusses the anecdotal and research evidence attesting to the excessive workloads of faculty of color, including heavy formal and informal teaching loads, excessive committee assignments, and discriminatory tenure review procedures. (27) But, he suggests, the psychological burden associated with tokenization and isolation is rarely addressed, particularly the ways in which such processes negatively affect productivity. One exception is Yolanda Flores Niemann's discussion of stereotype threat, as mentioned earlier. In her recounting of her own experience as a woman of color within the academy, Niemann analyzes the psychologically damaging processes associated with tokenization, particularly in terms of internalizing racist attitudes of colleagues and supervisors, potentially resulting in feelings of incompetence and "self-undermining" practices. (28) And underlying it all is the message that faculty should be grateful to be have been hired in the first place. As outsiders we are made consistently aware of our lack of belonging. And refusing to play the role of the Grateful Outsider, as Anna Agathangelou and L. M. H. Ling suggest, often triggers indignation, even outrage, among the academy's gatekeepers. (29)
Hune also suggests that Asian Pacific American women are perceived as "strangers" or outsiders in the academy. She cites research and campus-climate studies documenting the unequal treatment of Asian Pacific Americans in higher education. Her research demonstrates a chilly climate for Asian Pacific American women in the academy, who often experience both overt racism and sexism and "everyday inequities"--the subtle forms of oppression and informal practices that serve to marginalize, exclude, and silence. (30) Also, Asian Pacific American women find a largely unsupportive and sometimes hostile campus climate that hinders our professional development. (31) As for other women of color in higher education Asian Pacific American women's expertise and authority are often contested; our teaching, research, and service may not be fully acknowledged; we experience heavier teaching and service loads and carry service assignments for which we often do not receive credit; and we are insufficiently recognized for our academic expertise but called upon to address "diversity" issues. In addition there exists a lack of mentoring for APA faculty women, a lack of a sense of community with colleagues, and a feeling of being devalued within our departments. Hune writes,
Their theoretical perspectives, publications, and creative works, especially those involving ethnic and womens issues, are frequently disregarded by peers who consider APA women's contributions lacking in academic merit.... In addition, some APA women find their campus issues and leadership ignored and underrated. Their concerns may be doubted by whites and occasionally by other minorities, who do not see Asian Pacific Americans as racially disadvantaged. (32)
Hune notes that APA women in 2007 constituted a small percentage (2.8 percent) of total full-time faculty. And in a recent publication she suggests that APA women in academia continue to face racism and sexism, as well as anti-immigrant sentiments and accent discrimination. (33) Racism is normalized within the university, and faculty labor is gendered and racialized, creating an environment in which women-of-color faculty are constituted as outsiders and often alienated from our work within the academy.
In the attempt to correct so many generations of bad faith and cruelty, when it is operating not only in the classroom but in society, you will meet the most fantastic, the most brutal, and the most determined resistance. There is no point in pretending that this won't happen. (34)
Five years into my position the director of the program announced her decision to retire. While I was offered the opportunity to direct the program, I was also informed that it would not be possible to negotiate early tenure. I was not yet tenured at that time and was advised by many senior colleagues that it was not in my interest to accept the position. (35) There were no other tenure-track faculty members in the program at that time, with the majority of courses taught by adjunct and fixed-term instructors, and the administration was very firm in its unwillingness to hire a new director through a national search or to allow us to recruit an affiliated tenured faculty member from another program within the university. As background it is important to note here that contract (adjunct and fixed-term) instructors constitute one of the most heavily exploited groups in academia. Generally hired course-to-course (adjuncts) or year-to-year (full-time, fixed-term instructors) within this particular institution, these instructors made up the majority of faculty within the women's studies program. Almost none of them had earned doctoral degrees, and they lived contract-to-contract, with fewer resources and benefits and less status than tenure-track faculty within the university system. According to Angela Harris and Carmen Gonzalez women of color are generally overrepresented in the lower academic ranks, particularly in temporary, part-time positions within the restructured corporate US academy. (36) However, the majority of adjunct and fixed-term faculty within this particular program were white women. One of these instructors had applied for my position five years earlier. Throughout the years she had sought a tenure-track position elsewhere but had been unable to secure one. So when the administration struggled to find a replacement for the program director, she volunteered for the job on the condition that they convert her line to a tenure-track position. With no affirmative action process this individual, "A," was granted a tenure-track line and status as a new assistant professor and program director. At the same time, after years of requests and proposals, the program was finally granted approval to begin a national search for a new tenure-track assistant professor. I chaired the search that resulted in the hire of a new colleague, another woman of color. It was during this time that things began to really disintegrate.
Both the new hire, "X," and I regularly felt an intense sense of competition with us coming from "A." Since A and X were technically at the same rank within the university hierarchy, A seemed to limit X's access to resources that A herself did not have. In fact A resisted fighting for a competitive salary for X, arguing that it felt unfair to her since she herself had had to wait years for a tenure-track line and a competitive salary. The complete list of our experiences of discrimination is too long and complex to detail exhaustively here; however, we felt in multiple ways that A attempted to undermine and sabotage our positions within the university. For example, she failed to write the required chairs letter for my tenure file and then "forgot" to compile and turn in the file, an act that could have resulted in my not being considered for tenure at that time, had it not been that a senior colleague in another department learned of the situation and intervened on my behalf. A failed to file payroll paperwork for X, resulting in X being paid late for the first month of her new position. She neglected to sign off on my grant proposals and fellowship applications, which required permission of department chairs, so during the entire time that she served as director, none of my applications and proposals were actually submitted. We learned that she spread rumors about both of us around the program to fixed-term and adjunct instructors, resulting in increased isolation and ostracism by colleagues and an even more hostile environment for the two of us. She shifted significant parts of her workload to us, increasing our labor and contributing to a sense of chaos and confusion within the program. And she began to slowly withdraw program resources for the two of us, including course release time, while increasing such resources for herself and for the fixed-term instructors within the program. In fact, in my final year at the institution every full-time faculty member within the program was granted a spontaneous course reduction except for X and me.
We were never passive during this time. However, every action we took to counter As seemed to result in more negative consequences for both of us. When I tried to speak with her about what was happening, she grew angry and defensive. We went to Human Resources and then to the Omsbuds Office at the university to discuss our grievances and to begin a formal mediation process. We spent seven months attending regular meetings with administrators and repeatedly met with the dean of the college. Our attempts to work through the conflicts simply resulted in multiple incidents of her retaliation against us, comprising a "secondary injury" in the legal sense, inflicted by A and later by colleagues within the program (who aligned themselves with our harasser and contributed to our hostile work environment) and by administrators who failed to intervene. Cho, discussing a case of racialized sexual harassment, suggests that the convergence of racial and gender stereotypes of Asian Pacific American women helps constitute the specific forms of harassment that we may face and also the ways in which others may perceive both the harassment and the secondary injury. (37)
Dynamics within the department were increasingly racialized, targeting the two of us--the only women-of-color tenure-track faculty. In particular there seemed to be an assumption that labor rights and resources normally guaranteed for tenured and tenure-track faculty became privileges bestowed upon us, and these rights and resources were subsequently questioned and challenged. For example, a new computer set off a backlash of anger toward X, who was referred to by one colleague as the new affirmative action hire. Indeed, while X and I were the only faculty members within the program to be hired through competitive national searches, like other faculty of color in US higher education we were "preemptively construed as lacking the requisite qualifications, credentials, and experience." (38) Our racial identities played a significant role in such assumptions. Treatment of us within the program seemed directly affected by both the model-minority stereotype of Asian Pacific Americans and anti-immigrant sentiments shaped by the perception of us as perpetual foreigners (they are taking over our jobs). These assumptions resulted in the idea that we were somehow usurping the white women faculty members' rightful ownership of the program and the field of women's studies. Later the entire group of mostly white adjunct and fixed-term faculty claimed that it was unfair that X and I had our own offices and suggested voting to change the system within the university that allowed for tenure-track faculty to have access to individual offices. They felt it was wrong that they (nearly all white women, most of whom were older than the two of us) should share offices while the two women-of-color tenure-track faculty each had our own offices. (39) They implied that we were somehow squandering the programs resources and that our very presence resulted in the depletion of public resources to which they should be entitled.
Underlying these assumptions is an imperial feminism that frequently reframed the discourse surrounding faculty labor rights, power, and privilege. While it might be assumed that X and I enjoyed greater power within the university system given our tenure-track lines, this was complicated. In fact A and several of the fixed-term faculty colleagues suggested that it was our (X's and my) elitism that resulted in the unequal access to resources among tenure-track and fixed-term instructors. They claimed that our doctoral degrees signified this elitism as well as our greater privilege relative to them and that by expecting certain labor rights associated with tenure-track positions at this university (e.g., our own offices, funding to attend conferences, time to do research, etc.) we were not only "uppity" but somehow disloyal to feminism--a feminism they defined narrowly and around their own interests. What I came to recognize was that these same critiques were never raised in relation to older, white women (or men) with doctoral degrees in tenured positions. In fact it became clear to me that what A and these other mostly white colleagues resisted most vehemently was not the exploitative distinction between tenure-track and temporary faculty positions, but the fact that X and I--two women of color--were overstepping racial and gender boundaries by earning doctoral degrees and tenure-track positions. In addition their repeated framing of themselves as the "Other"--central to any discourse of oppression--served to privilege their own concerns and further marginalize women of color within the program. These dynamics and others, including the constant refrain of "sisterhood," a critical stance toward what they referred to as hierarchy and elitism, and a stated commitment to consensus, actually functioned to silence and, at times, vilify X and me. The underlying racism and white privilege within women's and gender studies as an academic formation failed to receive adequate exploration and critique.
When I filed an affirmative action complaint, we experienced further retaliation, including the withholding of resources from students whom I advised and mentored. During this time I met with the colleges dean, who privately expressed his support for me and for X, stating that he would take immediate action to protect us. But he never actually did anything. Senior colleagues in other departments attempted to intervene, but when the hostility of these fixed-term faculty members was then directed against them, most retreated. The support we received was almost invariably private support, willingness to listen sympathetically, or the suggestion that we document everything. But the closed circle of the university's administration effectively precluded any meaningful intervention. Ultimately, I was left wondering what it really means to act as an ally within the academy. Finally, at the end of the term the dean offered his plan: he required the three of us to go through a formal mediation with an outside mediator through the summer. While A, an administrator, would be paid for her time to do this, they could offer no compensation for X or me. We were given no choice in the matter but were told instead that this was the way for us to demonstrate our commitment to the program and the institution. Against my better judgment I agreed to it. The mediation team consisted of two experienced and skillful women, who, once they gained an understanding of the situation, positioned themselves as advocates for X and me and recommended the immediate termination of As contract. A immediately withdrew from the mediation process. The university responded by canceling the process and displacing all responsibility, though there remains some confusion about how and why this occurred.
Mohanty suggests that in today's system of higher education, shaped increasingly by neoliberalism and corporate power, students are situated "as clients and consumers, faculty as service providers, and administrators as conflict managers and nascent capitalists whose work involves marketing and generating profit for the university." (40) She ties this reinvention of the public university to other corporatized systems, including the military industrial complex and the prison industrial complex, to highlight the ways in which corporate and government interests come together, and profit and social control are intertwined. To this end the university functions like the nation-state in its defining of citizens and noncitizens, in which certain groups of people are always already cast as outsiders. And Gititi makes the point that the issue of ownership is central within academia--"ownership of power and the institutions that power creates to maintain and protect itself." (41) Institutionalized power, he argues, creates insiders and outsiders, marking boundaries that exclude, disqualify, and oppress. (42) With the construction of (white) hegemonic femininity comes the construction of (white) hegemonic feminism and therefore assumptions about women of color as subordinate. (43) As my colleague X and I were constituted as outsiders, we were also constructed as inherently different, inferior, and threatening to the status quo. This process of being invalidated within white feminist academia, Himani Bannerji suggests, results in a profound sense of alienation. (44) We were offered the possibility of inclusion only on terms defined and controlled by others, which explicitly discounted our specific experiences as women of color. In the university system and within the field of women's and gender studies, what determines citizenship? Who belongs, and on what grounds?
ACADEMIC CITIZENSHIP, MIGRATION, AND EPISTEMIC VIOLENCE
My experiences very often spoke of violence and violation. They consisted of humiliation in the institution called the university. (45)
I use the term epistemic violence here following Gayatri Spivaks discussion of colonialism and the destruction of non-western ways of knowing, which thereby reinforces the domination of western frameworks, methods, and epistemologies, as a way to characterize--and politicize--the harm inflicted upon me, X, and countless other women-of-color faculty in women's and gender studies and the academy. George Dei and Agnes Calliste, writing of the Canadian context, suggest that colleges and universities operate as powerful discursive sites "through which race knowledge is produced, organized, and regulated." (46) People of color are marginalized, silenced, and rendered invisible not only through failures to take issues of race seriously but also "through the constant negation of multiple lived experiences and alternative knowledges." (47) And this violence, as Bannerji notes, is everywhere in a society based on "race." (48) Furthermore, the racism that organizes such violence, she suggests, is central to European (white) feminist discourse as it serves the interests of white, middle-class women and those aligned with them. (49)
Ironically, both X and I had been hired to perform racial difference within the white-dominated program and university. Both of us were ostensibly hired to serve as experts on race, racism, and women of color. Our research and teaching in these areas made us desirable at the times of our hires (the "hot commodities" of my title). Yet when we reported what was happening within our program, we were not taken seriously and in fact were repeatedly challenged, questioned, and even maligned. Gititi suggests that work on race and diversity is often deemed worthy and meritorious when done by white colleagues, but when people of color do it, it is often discounted as "whining" or as evidence that we are simply incapable of doing other kinds of scholarship. (50) Perhaps paradoxically, I felt that my ability to teach courses about race, racism, and women of color was, in fact, valued within the program and university. But my attempt to actually address race, racism, and the marginalization of women of color within the program was not acceptable and led to the hostility I subsequently experienced. In fact, calling attention to racism within academia, for faculty of color, often risks being labeled as uncollegial, a somewhat vague and general charge, but one with unique power when it comes to processes of tenure and promotion. At the same time, as Ng suggests, gender and race relations within the academy function to undermine the authority and credibility of women-of-color faculty, producing even greater subordination and marginalization.
To my knowledge A has never taken responsibility for any of her actions; nor has she been held accountable in any way by the university. Rather, her attempt to frame the issues as simply a personal conflict between her, X, and myself indicates her insistence on equating our positions and erasing all power inequities and hierarchies. She refused to hear our concerns and grievances and instead evaded the power differences between us as well as any personal or professional accountability. Other colleagues within the program, some of whom claimed to be "antiracist" feminists, nevertheless colluded with A in her discriminatory treatment and harassment of X and me and contributed to an increasingly hostile climate for us. The university states as part of its mission the policy to support and retain faculty of color, but as discussed in the previous section, this policy was never implemented. Even more egregious than As actions was the university administrations failure to protect us from racial discrimination, bullying, harassment, and retaliation. We dutifully attempted to go through each of the university's official processes to address our grievances and improve our working conditions. Yet we were repeatedly punished for doing so. We were cast as the problem and as troublemakers; we were the subjects of rumors and lies; and we suffered both professionally and personally. My attempts to work within the system left me increasingly frustrated over the administration's failure to address our labor rights and my growing awareness of the limits of affirmative action and legal interventions. My experience led me to question whether justice is even possible within the current US academic institutional framework.
Rather, the administration seemed more focused on protecting A and her position within the university. Once we began to challenge the power dynamics within the program, X and I were increasingly cast as outsiders, interlopers, and noncitizens, while A, a white woman, was protected at our expense. As women-of-color faculty our contributions to the university were rarely recognized. We were treated primarily as visible representatives of minority groups, tokenized within the program, showcased on university committees, and expected to enhance the diversity of the institution. In addition an emphasis on mediation, "unlearning prejudice," and "healing" within both the women's studies program and the university effectively individualized the issues, framing them as simply interpersonal and undermining the necessity for political organizing, analysis, and action. As Ng suggests, such approaches, which frame harassment as attitudinal and individualistic problems, often mask the ways in which racism and sexism are systemic. And Mohanty writes, "if complex structural experiences of domination and resistance can be ideologically reformulated as individual behaviors and attitudes, they can be managed while carrying on business as usual." (51) In this way the university administration's focus on "managing diversity" (and managing the discrimination we and others experienced), within a neoliberal political economy, resulted in an ahistorical and depoliticized approach to addressing not only our grievances but also "diversity" in general. How, then, did A come to be seen as a legitimate citizen within the university, while X and I were not?
Asian Pacific American women and other women of color, while growing in numbers, are still relatively rare on US campuses and like other women of color are generally concentrated in junior ranks and among part-time and nontenure lecturer positions. Also, Asian Pacific American women have one of the lowest tenure rates of all faculty groups in the United States and continue to face multiple forms of discrimination and inequality within the academy. (52) The restructuring of the university leads to a restructuring of faculty positions, leading to more contracting out of teaching. It also shifts relations of labor among different faculty constituencies, parallel to the university's shift in relation to national and state interests. The privatization of higher education, according to Mohanty, results in a shift from an emphasis on social justice to a management perspective, as well as a growing division between tenure-track faculty and an increasing number of contract workers, marking the creation of a "permanent underclass of professional workers in higher education." (53) Research indicates that women of color and other faculty from subordinated groups are more likely to be lecturers, untenured, with disproportionately lower salaries. (54) Privatization turns citizens into consumers, making profit central. And citizenship itself is actively redefined for university faculty through this restructuring. This division of labor is both gendered and racialized, so that the majority of women-of-color faculty working in the US academy occupy the lowest and least secure positions. Hence citizenship within the academy, aligned with the state, is also gendered and racialized.
These processes contribute to the complex experiences of women of color in tenure-track faculty positions within the academy, shaped by assumptions about citizenship and belonging. I believe the intense hostility X and I experienced was due, in part, to dominant perceptions of us as stepping outside the acceptable roles for us within US higher education and womens and gender studies. As Asian Pacific American women we were expected to be passive and subservient and also low-ranked, untenured, and acting primarily as service providers. We were expected to function as cheap--or cheapened--labor, invoking Cynthia Enloe's discussion of the processes that produce certain bodies as cheap labor, imported to perform the dirty work that the "real" citizens within the academy do not want to do. Bannerji, discussing her experience as a woman of color in women's studies, writes: "I am an exception in the universities, not the rule. As a body type I am meant for another kind of work." (55) In fact, she suggests, women (and men) of color in such contexts are "made to feel like guest workers,' eternally labeled and marginalized as 'migrants,' 'aliens,' and 'outsiders.'" (56) In this program the condition under which X and I might have been tolerated was that of subservience. (57) Alternately, assimilating to perform whiteness, or acting as Native Informants, sometimes allows women-of-color faculty special token status within the university system. Jasmin Zine, writing of the Canadian academic context, describes how for a period of time she was able to gain social currency through cultural conformity, "passing" as an assimilated foreigner ("the good immigrant"), but despite her efforts could "never really own or claim national identity," which is always already reserved for white members of society. (58) Agathangelou and Ling, asking why so many women-of-color faculty "fail" in the US academy, conclude that for faculty of color there exist hidden "subsidiary criteria":
a series of private rules and power relations operating behind the public rhetoric of tolerance and diversity ... [that] rationalize racism, sexism, and classism in order to screen out persons who do not fit the academy's designation of who and what a faculty of color should be. (59)
And women of color who achieve too much are often punished for it.
In response to inhospitable work environments many women-of-color faculty members choose to relocate or to leave academia altogether. The cost of moving, Gititi suggests, is a lack of stability, often internalized by those who move. (60) I use the term academic migration to describe the moves we make and to situate those of us in the academic job market within a larger global marketplace in which people of color are simultaneously often considered hot commodities and objects of cheap labor. In drawing this connection, I acknowledge the relative privilege those of us who work in academia may experience in relation to the majority of the worlds' workers. I do not mean to suggest an easy conflation between our migration between and among institutions and the ways in which migrant workers within the global economy are most likely to be women of nations deeply affected by structural adjustment programs and other processes associated with globalization. However, as women of color many of us have ties to this context of migration within our own families and communities, and my intent is to link our movement, structured as it is by race, class, gender, and nation, to other broader movements also structured by state apparatuses and global inequities. In this way I draw attention to the ways in which women of color are often already marked as "service providers" within a global economy structured by race, gender, class, and nation and are subsequently also seen as embodying this role within the academy. Additionally, linking our struggles to migrant labor movements highlights the ways that economic exigencies are mediated through state apparatuses that produce racialized, gendered subjects. (61)
The controlling images discussed above contribute to an academic class structure in which women-of-color faculty constitute what Agathangelou and Ling refer to as "a domestic underclass or foreign migrant community, regardless of personal history," seen as temporary workers and commodified as such. (62) Our presence in the university is likened to the legalized noncitizen: "You can live here, but don't get too comfortable," writes Matsuda, who suggests that achieving citizenship within the academy means abandoning one's home locations, denying one's own indigenous knowledge, and "naturalizing the dominant worldview in one's own body and soul and teaching and scholarship." (63) In addition the politics of language produce a discursive struggle within the academy, in which the linguistic space of women's and gender studies and other disciplines is also racialized, shaping what counts as legitimate theory or knowledge. In her discussion of the origins of mainstream women's studies Bannerji refers to a "little club of white women ... [whose] self-ness made them so unselfconscious. They never considered their ideas irrelevant, their lives marginal, because they so happily were the centre, the creators/subjects of their discourse." (64) Race and gender are integral to the organization of this space, and a colonialist-imperialist legacy leaves few options for women-of-color faculty in the US academy--"slave, servant, or prostitute." (65) But X and I occupied ostensibly higher and more stable positions within the program than most of the white women adjunct and fixed-term instructors, resulting in a peculiar brand of outrage and hostility among several colleagues, in particular A, who held direct supervisory power over us. Hence the ways in which academic citizenship, often considered primarily in terms of the tenure system, is always already racialized elucidates how more highly ranked women-of-color faculty members confront specific forms of oppression, often associated with perceptions of our transgressions within the university system. Harris and Gonzalez suggest that such microagressions--which may be subtle or implicit--are often the result when academic women of color thwart expectations of them as service workers. (66)
Given the results of the mediation, it became clear that the administration and our colleagues had no interest in restructuring the workplace or addressing the racism within the women's studies program. In this way racism was further reinforced and normalized, and we were alienated from our labor as we were continually denied the truth and integrity of our own experiences. This consolidation of power and oppression within the new corporate academy and the alliance between the university and capitalism/economic globalization are bolstered by racialized, sexualized systems of exploitation that produce consumer-citizens. And these systems, Mohanty suggests, include not only unequal labor relations and campus cultures, structured by racism and sexism, but also the marginalization and potential cooptation of our struggles for social justice. (67) The ways in which women's and gender studies colludes in this restructuring of the university, risking cooptation and accommodation, have not yet been adequately addressed. Along with the gains for some there are intense losses for others, both material and abstract.
Of particular concern to me is the power of a predominantly white managerial class to define the terms of "racial diversity," often insisting on individualistic rather than structural understandings of power and privilege, entrenched within a liberal pluralist conception of diversity. Within such a model, according to Ng, universities rely on "prejudice-reduction" approaches, with emphases on neutrality, objectivity, and "fairness," which effectively conceal unequal distributions of power, rather than analyses of structural systems of oppression. For example, when X and I attempted to address racism, and specifically As discriminatory treatment of us within our program as a structural form of oppression, we were met with resistance by colleagues and administrators who repeatedly reframed our grievances as an individualistic, interpersonal issue. This reframing shifted the focus to "mediation" and "healing," rather than any meaningful analysis of the underlying factors that produced a hostile work environment for us as women of color in the academy.
In this article I have offered an analysis of my experiences within a women's studies program as a situated critique and one example of a structural analysis of systems of oppression that shape the experiences of women of color in the university. In doing so, I challenge and critique the increasingly ahistorical, depoliticized understandings of "diversity" in the academy. Also important to note is that my hire, through a special diversity initiative, was not supported in any way by an infrastructure or administration cognizant of the larger, systemic issues of power and privilege. As mentioned earlier, the funding granted to the program for my retention was never disclosed to me, and I did not receive any of it. My service load was excessive. There were no programs in place at the university to support faculty of color, through either professional development or community building, and there were no resources to diminish the sense of isolation and tokenism we experienced. Finally, when I worked within the system to report and try to remedy the hostile work environment of the program, I was repeatedly punished for doing so.
An alternative approach, focused on social justice rather than management of the status quo, would require a focus on structural models of power and privilege within the academy. University initiatives to enhance "diversity" or "multiculturalism" should refer to best practices in hiring and retaining faculty of color, recognizing that such processes are ongoing and require consistent support and commitment, especially at the highest levels of administration. University programs specifically designed to educate faculty, staff, and students about intersecting systems of oppression, discrimination, and power should undergird this work. And faculty from underrepresented communities should be offered additional support and resources to counter the hidden labor often associated with our positions. Finally, reports of discrimination in the academy should be taken seriously by colleagues and administrators, thoroughly investigated, and directly addressed.
In women's and gender studies and other disciplines ostensibly committed to social justice, attentiveness to these practices is particularly important. In addition we require a greater understanding of the power differences between tenure-track and contingent faculty, using an intersectional framework that emphasizes race, gender, class, and other social categories that structure our experiences. The increasingly corporate US academy is of critical significance to feminist struggles and decolonizing practices, and analyzing the impact of racialized gender must be central to women's and gender studies.
For a long time after my resignation I considered taking legal action. I was encouraged to do so by a number of colleagues, who urged me to make the situation public in order to prevent even more faculty of color from similar experiences. I even met with a prominent labor and civil rights attorney, who stated that I had a strong case and informed me that he had received so many complaints about this particular university that he wondered if we might have a class-action suit. However, I also talked with friends and colleagues who had pursued legal action in similar cases at other institutions. From them I heard about years of stress, pain, and public humiliation. I was discouraged by the fact that each of the mediation processes I had participated in had failed and that even a grievance filed with the university's office of affirmative action had had almost no effect. Also, I was beginning to experience health problems associated with stress, and I feared the potential effects this might have on my family. So I made the difficult personal decision to leave the university--the best decision for me at that time. However, I realize that each situation is unique, and I hope others in similar circumstances will have greater options to pursue various forms of justice within such contexts.
While not the case for the majority of women of color in the academy, my story has a happy ending. I was fortunate enough to be offered a tenured position in a women's, gender, and sexuality studies program. Once again I was hired through a special diversity initiative. However, at this university it was clear to me from the outset that the administration had carefully considered the implications of such initiatives, including thinking through best practices for retention of faculty of color and others representing marginalized communities. I was also fortunate to find myself surrounded by colleagues who support and value my work on women-of-color studies and transnational feminisms and provide encouragement, collaboration, and mentoring. After my previous experience I'm too cynical to believe any longer in "home" in the academy, but for now I am happy to be immersed in an intellectual community where our many differences are acknowledged and respected.
For their support and invaluable feedback I wish to thank Priya Kandaswamy, Marie Lo, Reshmi Dutt-Ballerstadt, Hillary Jenks, Susan Shaw, Qwo-Li Driskill, and Melinda de Jesus. I also gratefully acknowledge a summer writing grant I received from the School of Language, Culture, and Society at Oregon State University, which enabled me to complete this paper.
(1.) Paula Gunn Allen, Off the Reservation: Reflections on Boundary-Busting, Border-Crossing, Loose Cannons (Boston: Beacon Press, 1998), 134.
(2.) Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity (Durham nc and London: Duke University Press, 2003), 178.
(3.) Shirley Geok-lin Lim, "The Center Can(not) Hold: US Women's Studies and Global Feminism," Women's Studies Quarterly 26, nos. 2-3 (Fall-Winter 1998): 30-39, 31.
(4.) Sandra Gunning, "Now That They Have Us, What's the Point? The Challenge of Hiring to Create Diversity," in Power, Race, and Gender in Academe: Strangers in the Tower? ed. Shirley Geok-Lin Lim and Maria Herrera-Sobek (New York: Modern Language Association, 2000), 171-82.
(5.) Roxana Ng suggests that such work enables us to explicate the systemic character of racism and sexism. She writes, "I maintain that in so doing, we move away from treating these incidents as idiosyncratic, isolated 'wrong doing' perpetrated by a few individuals with attitudinal problems. Instead, we aim at a fundamental reexamination of the structures and relations of universities, which have marginalized and excluded certain groups of people historically, and continue to do so despite equity measures implemented in the last ten years or so" (191). See Ng, '"A Woman Out of Control': Deconstructing Sexism and Racism in the University," Canadian Journal of Education/Revue canadienne de l'education 18, no. 3 (1993): 189-205.
(6.) Himani Bannerji, Thinking Through: Essays on Feminism, Marxism, and Anti-Racism (Toronto: Women's Press, 1995), 13-14.
(7.) Aida Hurtado, The Color of Privilege: Three Blasphemies on Race and Feminism (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996), 149.
(8.) Mari J Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? And Other Essays on Race, Gender, and the Law (Boston: Beacon Press, 1996).
(9.) Benjamin Baez, "Race-Related Service and Faculty of Color: Conceptualizing Critical Agency in Academe," Higher Education 39 (2000): 363-91.
(10.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 42.
(11.) For greater discussion and critique of excessive service loads for women in the academy, as well as the gendered division of labor within university settings, see Shelley M. Park, "Research, Teaching, and Service: Why Shouldn't Women's Work Count?" Journal of Higher Education 67, no. 1 (Jan.-Feb. 1996): 46-84.
(12.) Maria P. P. Root, Multiracial Experience: Racial Borders as the New Frontier (Thousand Oaks ca: Sage Publications 1996); Maria P. P. Root, Racially Mixed People in America (Thousand Oaks ca: Sage Publications, 1992).
(13.) Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? 168.
(14.) Mary Romero, "Learning to Think and Teach about Race and Gender despite Graduate School: Obstacles Women of Color Graduate Students Face in Sociology," in Is Academic Feminism Dead? Theory in Practice, ed. Social Justice Group at the Center for Advanced Feminist Studies, University of Minnesota (New York: New York University Press. 2000), 283-310.
(15.) Yolanda Flores Niemann, "The Making of a Token: A Case Study of Stereotype Threat, Stigma, Racism, and Tokenism in Academe," in Presumed Incompetent: The Intersections of Race and Class for Women in Academia, ed. Gabriella Gutierrez y Muhs, Yolanda Flores Niemann, Carmen G. Gonzalez, and Angela P. Harris (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2012), 336-55.
(16.) Shirley Hune, Asian Pacific American Women in Higher Education: Claiming Visibility and Voice (Washington dc: Association of American Colleges and Universities Program on the Status and Education of Women, 1998).
(17.) Shirley Hune, "What's Changed and What Hasn't? Asian American, Native Hawaiian, and Pacific Islander Women in Higher Education, 1998-2010," On Campus with Women 39, no, 3 (2011): http://www.aacu.org/ocww/volume39_3/feature.cfm ?section=3#_hune.
(18.) Sumi K Cho, "Asian Pacific American Women and Racialized Sexual Harassment," in Making More Waves: New Writing by Asian American Women, ed. Elaine H. Kim, Lilia V. Villanueva, and Asian Women United of California (Boston: Beacon Press, 1997), 164-73, 165
(19.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women.
(20.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women, 16.
(21.) Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? 168.
(22.) Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? 122.
(23.) Karen D. Pyke and Denise L. Johnson, "Asian American Women and Racialized Femininities: 'Doing' Gender across Cultural Worlds," Gender and Society 17, no. 1 (2003): 33-53.
(24.) Marcia Sutherland, "Black Faculty in White America: The Fit Is an Uneasy One," Western Journal of Black Studies 14, no. 1 (1990): 20.
(25.) Baez notes that it is not service, per se, that is the problem. In fact, for many faculty of color "service" can function as a way to resist oppressive structures, mentor students of color, and work for and with our various communities for social justice. What is problematic, he suggests, is the university system's underlying message that service is less valuable than publishing and teaching. And because faculty of color are often expected to perform greater service than white counterparts, Baez suggests, in "Race-Related Service," that the devaluation of service actually functions to punish faculty of color. Similarly, Park, in "Research, Teaching, and Service," discusses academic women's commitment to service, suggesting that while gender and race affect faculty workloads, it is also difficult for women faculty and faculty of color to simply abandon their service.
(26.) Gunning, "Now That They Have Us," 179.
(27.) Gitahi Gititi, "Menaced by Resistance: The Black Teacher in the Mainly White School/Classroom," in Race in the College Classroom: Pedagogy and Politics, ed. Bonnie TuSmith and Maureen T. Reddy (New Brunswick NJ: Rutgers University Press, 2002), 176-88.
(28.) Niemann, "Making of a Token."
(29.) Anna M. Agathangelou and L. H. M. Ling, "An Unten(ur)able Position: The Politics of Teaching for Women of Color in the US," International Feminist Journal of Politics 4, no. 3 (Dec. 2002): 368-98, 382.
(30.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women, 4.
(31.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women, 27.
(32.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women, 21.
(33.) Hune, "What's Changed and What Hasn't?"
(34.) James Baldwin, "A Talk to Teachers" (delivered Oc. 16, 1963, as "The Negro Child--His Self-Image"), originally published in Saturday Review, Dec. 21, 1963, reprinted in The Price of the Ticket, Collected Non-Fiction 1948-1985 (New York: Saint Martin's Press, 1985).
(35.) I realize it may appear that the initial opportunity to direct the program represented the university's intention to offer me greater institutional power. However, the possibility of this directorship came with no additional resources, increase in salary, or support. In other words, it appeared to me at the time to represent the least expensive, easiest solution for an administration that ultimately did not support the success of the program or my work within the institution.
(36.) Angela P. Harris and Carmen G. Gonzalez, "Introduction," in Gutierrez y Muhs et al., Presumed Incompetent, 1-14, 6.
(37.) Cho, "Asian Pacific American Women," 165.
(38.) Sutherland, "Black Faculty in White America," 19.
(39.) I should note here that there was one woman of color included in this group of fixed-term faculty. Her presence--and her repeated claim that racism simply did not exist in the program--illuminates the complexity of these dynamics and the need to discuss cross-racial hostility within feminist and women's studies organizations, internalized racism, and the ways in which women of color in the academy can undermine one another, act as gatekeepers, and align ourselves with dominant power structures in order to access greater privilege.
(40.) Mohanty, Feminism without Borders, 184-85.
(41.) Gititi, "Menaced by Resistance," 182.
(42.) Gititi, "Menaced by Resistance," 182.
(43.) Pyke and Johnson, "Asian American Women and Racialized Femininities."
(44.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 62.
(45.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 7.
(46.) George J. Sefa Dei and Agnes Calliste, Power, Knowledge, and Anti-Racism Education: A Critical Reader (Hallifax ns: Fernwood Publishing, 2000), 11.
(47.) Dei and Calliste, Power, Knowledge, and Anti-Racism Education, 11.
(48.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 11.
(49.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 47-48.
(50.) Gititi, "Menaced by Resistance," 179.
(51.) Mohanty, Feminism without Borders, 210.
(52.) Hune, Asian Pacific American Women, 17-18.
(53.) Mohanty, Feminism without Borders, 178-79.
(54.) Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? 123.
(55.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 61.
(56.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 153.
(57.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 138.
(58.) Jasmin Zine, "Unsettling the Nation: Gender, Race, and Muslim Cultural Politics in Canada," Studies in Ethnicity and Nationalism 9, no. 1 (2009): 146-63, 148.
(59.) Agathangelou and Ling, "Unten(ur)able Position," 370.
(60.) Gititi, "Menaced by Resistance," 187.
(61.) Lisa Lowe, Immigrant Acts: On Asian American Cultural Politics (Durham NC and London: Duke University Press, 1996), 14.
(62.) Agathangelou and Ling, "Unten(ur)able Position," 382.
(63.) Matsuda, Where Is Your Body? 128.
(64.) Bannerji, Thinking Through, 108.
(65.) Agathangelou and Ling, "Unten(ur)able Position," 384.
(66.) Harris and Gonzalez, "Introduction," 3.
(67.) Mohanty, Feminism without Borders, 174.
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|Publication:||Frontiers: A Journal of Women's Studies|
|Date:||Sep 1, 2014|
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