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This chapter is about the perspectives and experiences that female sex workers in China share across tiers of prostitution. The daily lives of low-tier sex workers, hostesses, and second wives in China differ from each other in important ways. Yet despite relatively fixed boundaries between tiers of prostitution, these women do not exist in unrelated, independent silos. After all, their source of income comes from the same activity: exchanging sex for money or other material goods. The chapter first highlights how movement across tiers of sex work is limited, and how low-tier sex workers and hostesses express a preference for the work conditions in their own tier, rather than voice a desire to move up in the pecking order. It then examines narratives that these women have in common across all three tiers. Lastly, it discusses how sex workers who cross paths with grassroots organizations develop a shared consciousness of their membership in a global community of sex work civil society, and appropriate its language and symbols in their own lives.
The most enduring stereotypes about feminists is that they are manhaters. Interestingly, few empirical studies have examined this stereotype for its veracity. Chapter 4 critically examines the stereotype that feminists dislike men and that feminism is a movement against men. Social psychological research on women’s attitudes toward men is examined and finds that anti-feminists actually feel more hostility toward men than do feminists. The function and implication of the manhating feminist myth is critically examined in this chapter. The feminist manhater myth persists in order to undermine the feminist movement and to drive a wedge between traditional and non-traditional women. Related strategies to make feminism unpalatable, such as lesbian-baiting, are also critically examined. Chapter 4 ends with strategies to reduce the impact of the manhater stereotype and to foster gender equality. The empirical work measuring the effects of women/gender studies classes on students is presented, and teaching children about gender discrimination are some strategies presented.
This Element endeavors to enrich and broaden Southeast Asian research by exploring the intricate interplay between social media and politics. Employing an interdisciplinary approach and grounded in extensive longitudinal research, the study uncovers nuanced political implications, highlighting the platform's dual role in both fostering grassroots activism and enabling autocratic practices of algorithmic politics, notably in electoral politics. It underscores social media's alignment with communicative capitalism, where algorithmic marketing culture overshadows public discourse, and perpetuates affective binary mobilization that benefits both progressive and regressive grassroots activism. It can facilitate oppositional forces but is susceptible to authoritarian capture. The rise of algorithmic politics also exacerbates polarization through algorithmic enclaves and escalates disinformation, furthering autocraticizing trends. Beyond Southeast Asia, the Element provides analytical and conceptual frameworks to comprehend the mutual algorithmic/political dynamics amidst the contestation between progressive forces and the autocratic shaping of technological platforms.
This Element analyzes the incorporation of new information and communication technologies (ICTs) by different parties in Latin America to organize volunteers and mobilize supporters during elections. It assesses ICT-related changes in how parties recruit prospective candidates, collect information about citizens' preferences, and mobilize for elections and how these changes have reduced the power of the rank and file within party organizations. Party leaders have an incentive to incorporate new ICTs to increase electoral efficacy and reduce the role of rank-and-file members in performing essential party functions. However, the result of the incorporation of technology depends on leaders' capacity to control the process within the party. Based on case studies of ICT incorporation by various Latin American parties and electoral campaigns, the authors posit that the incorporation of technology will consolidate a power dynamic that predates the adoption of ICTs to fulfill organizational functions.
This chapter explores the relationship between John Clare’s writing and the evolving discipline of ecocriticism which, in its broadest terms, treats literature as a representation of the physical world and the reader as a mediator between these complex environments. Clare’s work was central to the early ecocritical canon of the 1990s and continues, in more recent years, to shape our understanding of how and why environmental writing matters, particularly in a context of ecological despoliation, species extinction, and global warming. That Clare’s resolutely local voice and perspective should be at all relevant to an understanding of our broader world speaks to the challenge that he poses to modern readers by the example of his own relation to natural otherness. That relation, exemplified in poems such as ‘The Nightingales Nest’, is predicated on habits of attention and self-circumscription, a sequence by which the poet as ecological actor evokes the experience of coexistence.
This chapter deals with the Algerian language regime and its formation/operation during the history of contemporary Algeria, making the Amazigh language activism the common thread through which this language regime has been shaped. The objective is to present a particular postcolonial language regime, which reflects an entire political system. Indeed, it approaches the situation of languages from a double perspective: the status conferred and the status anticipated/expected. The balance, or not, between the two levels helps to define the type of language regime and its stability. However, in this case study, the fact that the Amazigh language is marginalized and far from meeting the expectations of those who claim it, means that the gap between the two statuses is significant. Thus, taking the Amazigh claims as a guideline for approaching the Algerian language regime seems to be the most efficient way to understand and present this language regime. It is the Amazigh language that has experienced the most intense activism. This seems to have weighed the most in the Algerian language regime, pushing it from the inside to evolve, in particular through the critical junctures of political crises.
Challenging the myth of non-return, this chapter shows that, by the 1970s, many guest workers did want to return to Turkey. But instead of support, they encountered opposition from the Turkish government. In the 1970s, the link between return migration and financial investments dominated bilateral discussions between Turkey and West Germany. After the Oil Crisis, West Germany devised bilateral policies to promote remigration. Turkey, then mired in unemployment, hyperinflation, and debt, actively resisted those efforts. The Turkish government realized that guest workers played a significant role in mitigating the country’s economic crisis. To repay its foreign debt, Turkey needed guest workers’ remittance payments in high-performing Deutschmarks. If guest workers returned to Turkey, then that stream would dry up. Turkish officials thus strove to prevent mass return migration at all costs – even when it contradicted guest workers’ interests. These tensions also manifested in Turkey’s charging of exorbitant fees for citizens abroad who sought exemptions from mandatory military service, prompting young migrants to create an activist organization that critiqued this policy. The knowledge that they were unwanted in both countries widened the rift between the migrants and their home country, which disparaged them as “Germanized” yet relied on them as “remittance machines.”
In the two decades since the end of Suharto regime in Indonesia, two apparently distinct public industries have emerged in tandem: gendered forms of religious style, glossed as modest fashion, and legal efforts to hold citizens accountable for theft, glossed as corruption. Many of the most high-profile anti-corruption cases in the past decade have brought these two fields into semiotic interaction, as female defendants increasingly deploy forms of facial cover associated with extreme religious piety to signal humility and shame when appearing in court, in the process complicating the relationship between religious semiotics and criminality. Analyzing how and why these two genres of political communication have intersected in the past decade, and to what effects, requires situating these shifts in the context of dense aesthetic archives in which the spectacularity inherent to fashion resonates with the unique impulses of a post-authoritarian political landscape in which uncovering secrets is especially alluring. I argue that the hermeneutic impulses motivating popular fascination with criminal style, often circulated via social media, open new analyses of the ethical relationship between beauty and justice. Building on the scholarship on transparency and on the human face, I argue that putting gendered religious style at the center of the analytical frame—from religious self-fashioning to court appearances, and as forms of political protest—reveals the ethical impulses behind seeing and being seen, and the faciality of scandal.
What does it mean to oppose or support an authoritarian regime from afar? During the years of Ben Ali's dictatorship in Tunisia between 1987 and 2011, diaspora activism played a key role in the developments of post-independence Tunisian politics. Centring this study on long-distance activism in France, where the majority of leftist and Islamist exile groups took refuge, Mathilde Zederman explores how this activism helps to shed new light on Tunisia's political history. Tunisian Politics in France closely explores the interactions and conflicts between different constellations of pro-regime and oppositional actors in France, examining the dynamics of what the author persuasively describes as a 'trans-state space of mobilisation'. In doing so, Zederman draws attention to the constraints and possibilities of long-distance activism. Utilising material gathered from extensive fieldwork in France and Tunisia, this study considers how the evolution of diaspora activism both challenges and reinforces the boundaries of Tunisian politics.
In recent years, there has been an alarming increase in both proposed and enacted legislation that targets diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives within higher education and organizations. These laws aim to dismantle protections and support for vulnerable individuals and groups. In this focal article, we provide an overview of the motives driving these anti-DEI legislative initiatives and categorize the laws based on the type of restrictions they impose: (a) reduction in knowledge, (b) reduction in access, and (c) reduction in support. Next, we discuss the consequences these anti-DEI laws yield for individuals, organizations, and society at large and provide an overview of how individuals and organizations may counteract these regressive policies. Last, we conclude with a call to action for I-O psychologists to investigate and call attention to the consequences of anti-DEI laws for recruitment and selection, well-being and safety of minoritized individuals, organizational reputation, and organizational performance and profits.
Mukti Mangharam’s Freedom Inc.: Gendered Capitalism in New Indian Literature and Culture, conducts a though investigation into the culture and ideology of neoliberal capitalism being produced in India today. But Mangharam’s approach is not to dismiss but to take seriously the appeal of individualism and entrepreneurism among its target audience: ordinary people looking for a way out of the material crises that neoliberalism has produced. In this response to Freedom Inc., Pranav Jani recognizes the empathetic and democratic impulse in Mangharam’s method and narrative style and finds a parallel in his own work as a scholar and organizer. How can scholars and activists concerned with the voice of the people recognize the fundamental heterogeneity of popular consciousness, neither romanticizing struggle nor foreclosing the possibility of reform, or even revolutionary change?
This chapter argues that ecopoetry is too easily absorbed back into the logics of capitalism and colonialism. Aware of the delimiting forces surrounding its own context, the chapter argues to be taken not as an essay but as an action. It argues that for a poem to bring about environmental change, it must be part of connected interventions. The chapter outlines the poetic yarning between John Kinsella and Charmaine Papertalk Green, a member of the Wajarri, Badimaya, and Nhanagardi people of the Yamaji Nation, as a means of generative protest. It also provides an example of poems written in medias res in the collective resistance to a proposal to build bike trails on Walwalinj, a mountain sacred to the Ballardong Noongar people. This example demonstrates a poem is shaped by the particular situation and how the poem is one part of a network of actions that formed a campaign that was led by Aboriginal elders. The chapter also includes collaborative poetry written during the Roe 8 Highway protests in 2016 and poetry protesting the proposed destruction of the Julimar Forest by mining companies.
This chapter by Jennifer Uchendu and Elizabeth Haase is dedicated to children and youth-led activism, with a focus on Jennifer’s journey as a youth climate activist leading work at SustyVibes in Nigeria. SustyVibes is a youth-led and youth-focused organization making sustainability actionable and relatable for young people through community-led projects. The chapter chronicles aspects of Jennifer’s journey that may be significant for young people and researchers of youth activism. We also discuss the main types of activism and highlight principles that have been adopted by youth climate activist groups to help them be most inclusive and effective, preventing burnout and group devolution. Drawing from Jennifer’s experience with eco-anxiety and related stress, we review the literature on the risks and benefits of activism – for youth mental health and for youth climate activists in particular – in hopes that her story can be generalizable and empowering to others.
This chapter traces the development of Judith Wright’s poetics, outlining her early focus on specific places and their legacies rather than on ideas of nation. It offers close readings of poems like “South of My Days,” “Bullocky,” and “Bora Ring.” The chapter then identifies mid-career attention to interpersonal relations before considering Wright’s growing awareness of settler-colonial privilege, Aboriginal sovereignty, different orders of temporality, and a continued expression of love for the land. The chapter reflects on the impact of Wright’s friendship with Aboriginal poet Oodgeroo Noonuccal and analyses “Two Dreamtimes.” It also examines Wright’s decision in 1990 to forego writing poetry in order to embrace environmental activism.
The chapter argues that Fogarty’s lyric “I” emerges out of questioning and inverting the institutional and political forces that define his work. It traces the development of his poetry as political dialogue through the context of his childhood at Cherbourg Aboriginal Reserve, his participation in community programs, the National Black Theatre, and the emergent Australian Black Panther Party. It includes his role in the Aboriginal land rights movement, the Black Resource Centre collective, and his engagement with Black Studies courses. The chapter also outlines the reception of Fogarty’s poetry and the challenges that his resistant poetics poses to the field of ‘Australian literature.’ The chapter investigates how Fogarty creates an ecology of connections between the human and non-human, distinguishes his writing from a prior generation of Aboriginal writers, fostered inter-Indigenous and cross-cultural connections internationally, and has many intimate addresses, including poems to his brother, whose death in custody triggered political marches and has tragic resonance today.
This article introduces a model that harnesses praxis as a powerful tool for critique, knowledge, and action within the realm of public archaeology. The adopted framework focuses on persistence as a middle-range methodology that bridges the material past to activist and collaborative-based projects. Recent research at Mission La Purísima Concepción in Lompoc, California, shows the effectiveness of this model and its real-world application. Visitors to California missions encounter the pervasive “Mission Myth”—a narrative that systematically overlooks and marginalizes Indigenous presence while perpetuating ideas of White hegemony and Eurocentrism. Archaeological excavations in the Native rancheria and collaboration with members of the Chumash community help resist notions of Indigenous erasure. By activating notions of persistence through public archaeology, this study contributes to dismantling entrenched terminal narratives, paving the way for a more accurate representation of the past and fostering a more inclusive archaeological practice.
This chapter examines the power and empowerment processes taking place in immigrant organizing and activism, primarily in the US. Immigrant youth activism around the Federal DREAM Act provides a case example. The youth whose activism and organizing seek the passage of this act are often referred to as “the DREAMers.” The discussion of the DREAMers is followed by a synthesis of interdisciplinary literature on immigrant community power and psychological empowerment processes. The chapter concludes with recommendations for policymakers, politicians, and social science researchers. Policymakers need a better understanding of the effects of their decisions on the large, heterogeneous group of noncitizen immigrants whose lives are interconnected with those of US citizens (e.g., undocumented parents of citizen children). Social scientists should pay attention to the similarities and differences between immigrant and refugee organizing and activism and should engage in collaborations with immigrant community leaders on mutually beneficial research.
Current research on Brazilian vacant buildings where squatters live tends to paint a familiar picture: the occupants are united in struggle, resolute in their understanding that squatting is within their constitutional, legal, and natural rights. However, drawing on new data from Rio de Janeiro, we argue that researchers have an incomplete understanding of this process. Our findings reveal considerable ideological variation among occupants regarding their rights to occupy abandoned property, including their understandings of private ownership versus the social function of property. In our analysis, we explain this ideological variation through what we call “moral economies of occupation.” Specifically, we focus on lived experiences of losing or being excluded from secure housing and the remembered role that the state played in that lived experience. This, we argue, is crucial for understanding why some occupants believe in their rights to squat while others doubt it.