Abstract
In 2011, I wrote a performance called “The Nation and the Domestic,” which is the result of my reflections after my fieldwork in the Valle Alto in the Choapa Valley in Chile. In this territory, there is a conflict between a mega mining project and the local communities. First, I wrote the performance for myself, but then I decided to share this performance with the community, which has helped me to open a space of conversation that makes visible the issue of gender relations and how this affects women’s knowledge. In this essay, through the narration of my previous experience, performance, and reaction analysis, I address the academic community through a reflection about methodological practices and the recognition of the “I” as part of knowledge creation.
Keywords
Interviewer and interviewee are in partnership and dialogue as they construct memory, meaning and experience together.
Introduction
In this essay, I will explore the opportunities that unfolded the performance “The Nation and the Domestic” that I wrote in 2011 after my first fieldwork in the communities of Valle Alto in the Choapa Valley in the Chilean Andes. This performance is the result of my reflection as a feminist in a territory where there is a conflict between the mega mining project Los Pelambres and the local communities of Valle Alto, and also where women are underrepresented within the public space and in the discussion of conflict. First, I wrote this performance for myself out of rage and helplessness, but I then shared it with the people who participated in the interviews during the first year when I did my fieldwork. In the “Nation and the Domestic,” I put all women in the same room to discuss their stories and how the mining industry affects their lives, including myself as a researcher. In this essay, I will unfold from the “I” perspective what it has meant for me to be called a niña (a little girl) every time I go back to the Andes. I first met these communities as a NGO worker, then as an activist and now as a researcher. After several years of work, it is clear that without a critical feminist perspective to help reflect on the conflict, it would be very difficult to work toward a sustainable development in the valley. Women have been historically marginalized in the discussion with the mine representatives and within the community organizations that deal with the issue. This fact has affected the women’s knowledge about the conflict and the process of mining production, and has silenced their perspectives about the construction of solutions. Through the performance “The Nation and the Domestic,” vignettes, and auto-ethnography interpretation, I will analyze this research experience showing in three different phases—previous experience, performance and reaction analysis, how I experienced this process with the aim of developing a space of conversation in a context of conflict and resistance—as well as look at the direct implication that this sort of experience has upon critical ethnographic work (Madison, 2012).
I Need to Speak Up
You can’t learn how to tell someone else’s story until you first learn how to tell your own.
Chile is a developing country that has experimented a boom in the expansion of the mining industry during the last years, following a global trend of the need for mineral resources. In this context, since 1999, a mining company called Los Pelambres, which is part of the holding Antofagasta Minerals, has developed its production in Valle Alto, which lies in the region of Coquimbo, Chile. The cost that mining production represents for the life of the people who live in this zone is intended to be subsidized by the material development that mining extraction produces in its areas of exploitation. For the last six years, I have been working from different positionalities with one of the local communities that is closer to the zone of impact of this company. Since the beginning, my presence in this space has had its issues. When I visited Valle Alto for the first time, I worked for Participa, a well-known Chilean non-profit. 1 However, regardless of the fact that I entered that space as a professional, I was always called niña (a girl) by the community members, but mostly men, which denotes that I’m not seen as a grown woman, but rather as a young child who needs to be taught—mainly by the men of this area. This was exemplified even in formal meetings, where the men referred to me as niña, showing how my gender overpowered my professional position in those meetings. This situation is not unique only to me but affects the young women of this community, even if they are already mothers and/or independent women. There is a constant struggle to demonstrate that you (as a woman) are capable of doing what a full-grown person is capable of. In addition to being a woman, I also openly identify as being an indigenous person and a feminist, and this “package” brought about other issues for how I was perceived in the community. One of the events that marked my work with this community was the day when I had to yell at twelve men in a room to be heard. 2 Years later, I have seen the same scene with other women who have had to validate their presence and voice within the group.
An evening in the Andes . . .
I’m exhausted, after days of driving through different communities from the coast to the mountain, we finally arrived to Cuncumén. It’s getting dark. We will hold this meeting and after that we are heading back to Illapel, a nearby town where there is our hotel. My friend and colleague, also a woman, is with me to talk with the leaders of the community to discuss how to proceed next year. We have decided to run the project under the structure of participative budgets; therefore, we are here to ask people how to spend the money that we have for our project Incide! Más Derechos, Más Voz (Advocate! More Rights, More Voice). 3 At the same time, we have the task of organizing the production of a Human Rights Report that we are creating as a documentary in different regions of Chile.
(At the entrance of Cuncumén) People are waiting for you at the Junta de Vecinos (neighborhood council). They are having a meeting right now, but they know that you were coming so they are expecting you.
OK, so let’s go to the meeting.
At the Junta de Vecinos, twelve men are sitting in a semi-circle, there are two chairs placed facing the crowd.
Please take a sit (indicating the two empty chairs)
(looking at my colleague and me) They are the people we have been working during the last couple of months and now they are here to talk about a documentary and some other things . . .
Well, first of all, we would like to introduce ourselves to the people we haven’t met in the past and to . . .
(standing up from his chair) We would like to know what are you doing here, we have met many like you in the past, plenty of organizations that mentioned that wanted to help us, but here we are all the same, what we need is a radio. Are you going to give us a radio? If you want to help that’s what we want, if not, then we don’t have much to talk. (The crowd is nodding its heads.)
Well, as we were saying, we would like to . . .
(standing up and kicking the chair placed next to him) The thing is clear, what we need is a radio. What you need to understand is that we are tired of this kind of conversations, we need solutions.
(I feel how my heart rate is rising, they all seem pretty angry at us) Well, that’s something we need to discuss (raising my voice as I speak). We are here with the purpose of developing a documentary, which gives answer to some of the needs that you shared with us during the past year.
And also we are here to work on the preparation of a participatory budget for the project (raising her voice and using her hands to emphasize her voice). If you want to include the construction of a radio in the budget that’s something we can discuss, but first we would like to know what’s your willingness to continue working with us. If we are here to talk about a documentary, it is because in the last couple of months, you also mentioned that you wanted to be able to share with a wider audience the situation you are facing.
(slowing down my voice a little bit) The documentary will serve as a Human Rights’s report, which could be used by you to visibilize the topics that during the last year of work you have indicated as your first priority, such as the quality of the water, the toxic leaking into the river, and the quality of the air. We are offering this tool to other communities that have been working with us; actually the idea of making a documentary came from a community leader in Talca. (After a while, I am not yelling anymore and we are talking again.)
What we see is that we need this community radio because all the local media is receiving money from the company, so nothing related to the wrongdoing of the company appears on the media, and we need to be present. If you could help us with this project, it would be of great help.
(We spent time discussing about media and representation and the participatory methodology to create the documentary. After about forty minutes, we say good-bye; we smoke a cigarette and discuss in the truck what this was all about. I still feel my heart beating.)
In this community, the presence of women in the public space is highly restricted. Only a few women have positions of leadership, especially a position that deals with issues where the conflict with the mine is present. The mechanisms of the segregation of women from the public space are not recognized by men, and if you ask them—I have asked them on several occasions—why do women not participate, and the men would respond that it is because women don’t want to participate or women are not interested in these sort of issues, or simply that they did not know why. However, from a critical feminist perspective, I intentionally work with women, who have demonstrated during individual interviews that they have sophisticated critiques of the community administration of the conflict. They have clear desires and opinions regarding the fate of the valley, the political articulation of the conflict, and their perceptions about their role in this space. They are also critical of the community leadership. By including women who are not very visible within the conflict administration in my study, I am exploring how the interpretation of the effects of the presence of the mine shows variants in the discourse that are not being addressed in the main discussion of the leaders of the community; issues such as the employability of women or the fears about the presence of the tail dam are left out of the discussion.
I Need to Speak About My Subjectivities
I returned to the community in 2012 with a pile of translated papers that I wrote during my PhD coursework at the University of Illinois. I was especially afraid about sharing my “personal thoughts” in a performance. This was not the first time I would be in discussion with the leaders of the community about why it is important to incorporate multiple opinions in the discussion of the conflict; however, this was the first time that I openly conceptualized my feminism and presented my subjectivities based on my academic work. It was at this time that I had to share my representation of the “Other” and all the “far-reaching consequences” (Conquergood, 1989) that my representations could have. I had to put myself under scrutiny to be able to have a critical and liberating dialogue (Freire, 2005) and to open myself up to being vulnerable, because I now know that the subjections that women have to overcome also affect my work and me. I see this in the way in which I relate with the leaders and how I need to always be alert to demonstrate my strengths. For the purpose of my ethnographic fieldwork, I understand that the success of the ethnographic work does not necessarily rely on the set of predesigned questions or a detailed plan, but “what is required is genuine curiosity, sincere interest, and the courage to be ‘vulnerable’ to another at the risk of being ‘the register’ of someone else’s power” (Madison, 2012, p. 43). I understood that those were all actions that had to be undertaken, but to go back into the field with the analysis of my observations and interviews—that took more courage than I expected.
One of the outcomes I was expecting from sharing not only myself but also my research with the people that I work with in Valle Alto was the chance to have a more sincere conversation with the women and men of this community. Hence, talking about the macho-culture-oriented dynamics that exist in Valle Alto was a discussion catalyzer that could jeopardize my permanence in the community. According to Krumer-Nevo (2012), what usually happens is that “in most genres of qualitative research, interpretation is the sole responsibility of the researcher, and in general, interpretation is not guided by the aim of challenging Othering” (p. 195). In this case, the performance became a challenging piece to this machismo that is naturalized in the daily lives of the community. To share what I thought, not only from a pure and “objective” perspective (about the others) but also including my personal experiences, contributed to going beyond interpretation and “Othering” to creating conversations based on the interviews and observations I had done in the community.
Conquergood (2002) says that when a performance opens the space that is inhabited between analysis and action, there is a transformative experience for the actors, but the researcher has to learn to be comfortable with the uncertainty and vulnerability, or at least to want to explore this space. Hence, the researcher assumes that the “Other” will intervene on many different levels of the analysis of the situation registered through ethnographic work. The dialogical performance allows the researcher to change the routine of speaking about the “object of analysis” to assume a conversation in which the researcher speaks to and with the people who are involved in the performance assuming that the dialogical self is also inserted within contexts of race, gender, and class (Conquergood, 2012). In this theoretical and methodological context, it was my hope to establish a discussion on the chauvinist cultural practices that I rejected in this space, because I have experienced them and I share with other women such bonds that are a product of our experiences that are mediated by our gender.
My First Attempt
Before returning to the United States from my first summer of fieldwork, some community leaders asked me to share with them the initial outcomes of my research. They also asked me to give a workshop on strategic communication, as that was an issue they wanted to address. That was the first time I had a chance to speak up in public about the segregation of women that I saw as affecting the work of the local communities. After years of working with this community, I had been invited to use my research as a magnifying lens, by using the information I collected from the interviews I did with the women to point to ordinary topics that are central to the resistance of the community.
Cuncumén, Winter, Friday:
Tonight is my last night in Cuncumén. I’ve been preparing this workshop since the day they asked me to do it. We have walked a long way since the first time we met. I’m still a niña, no doubt about that, but at least I’m a niña who owns a voice in the public. My topics for today’s workshop include the analysis of the representation of the local leaders of the community and the participation or lack of participation of a big part of the community in the discussions held with the company representatives; I’ll raise the topic of lack of women representation during the discussion. Also, another very important point that I’ve learned from the interviews is the disparity that different people have about the purposes of the same organization, the Cooperativa de Desarrollo Sustentable (CDS; Cooperative for the Sustainable Development).
4
I think we need to have a discussion about the discourse that they are transmitting to the rest of the community.
It is Friday evening; I do not know how many people will show up to our workshop. After some minutes, people start to enter the room, and we start around a half an hour late, but we are more than 20 people. All participants are men, except for three women in the audience, all who work at the CDS and are in their roles of professionals at the workshop. The conversation flows, and topics such as the analysis of the public message that the cooperative is sharing with the rest of the community or the distribution of information are discussed in detail. It is getting late, but we only have been able to go through half of the workshop. I just let it follow in its own rhythm; I see people need to speak, and this is a good exercise. It’s getting dark, and we have no lights. It started to snow heavily, and the strength of the snow has broken a branch of a tree, which hit the electric light pole and cut the wires that feed the place where we are meeting. We continue regardless of that. We can barely read what is on the walls. Someone lends me a flashlight, someone else shows up with some candles. We keep discussing, this is necessary . . .
It is about 10 p.m. We have been here for almost three hours discussing, and we still haven’t been able to finish, but the discussions generated are good in and of themselves. With regard to my point about women participation, it was one of the topics that received the least amount of discussion. I tell them that women are relevant for the construction of solutions to the problems the community faces, that they are half of the population, and that they obviously cannot claim to have organizations that represent the community if men are the only ones involved in them. Some of them seem to agree, some of them look indifferent.
At the end of the workshop, I feel we have accomplished a lot, but the point about women participation is something that was almost not present in the discussion tonight. We spoke a lot about democracy and rights but not about gender-blind dynamics.
My Second Attempt: The Nation and the Domestic
After I left Cuncumén, I wrote “The Nation and the Domestic.” The year after, when I returned to Cuncumén, I started to share the translation of the different articles I wrote during the year. The first comments I received were about the performance, which is basically the reproduction of conversations that I had with different women in Cuncumén and its surrounding area. The dialogues were performed one by one, because in my experience, it is less frequent to find women participating in public discussions regarding the conflict with the company or directly speaking about the conflict in social gatherings; therefore, to get access to their opinions, it is necessary to address them in other type of spaces, such as their homes.
In this case, the dialogues focus not only on the impacts on the environment but also on their daily discourses and the reconstruction of their memories of the valley. The following is a selection of some of the scenes that represent the performance:
Scene 1 5
I was born in 1934. I started working at an early age. I didn’t know how it felt to be a child . . .
My dad must have arrived in Cuncumén in 1955, because I was born in the 1960s. He transferred to work in the “hacienda.” 6 We lived in the “hacienda” when the patrons lived there . . . in those houses. My mom says that they let us use a room. We lived there for a while until we obtained our home.
We are very native. I was born in my house with the help of one or two ladies, midwives who were dedicated to helping women give birth. At that time, it was much more private, not like now, which is much more public.
I did not know about toys or birthdays. I always worked since I was conscious, since I opened my eyes. I was the man and the woman in my house. I spent two years in the mountains of Quelén. My dad asked me to take care of the goats in the mountain. I know all of that area. We lived there until my dad came to work at the “hacienda,” and later we moved to Cuncumén.
My dad was from another village and married my mother, and came to Cuncumén. He came there not as a “trabajador” but rather as an “empleado” working on the “hacienda.”
And what was the difference?
The “trabajadores” worked in the field; the “empleados” did the administrative work. It’s like how now in the companies, there are differences between those who do different kind of jobs.
My father was a bookkeeper in the “hacienda.” He was very smart, much more so in comparison with other old people, because although he had only three or four years of schooling and didn’t even have shoes to go to school, he learned many things . . . like reading.
My father did not have much education but he knew a lot about numbers and had beautiful handwriting. During the time of the land reform, he became a farmer. It was difficult for him, but he just got used to it and worked the land to support the family; hence, we grew up and continued our higher education.
I was married before the age of seventeen. When I was thirty-five, I was widowed and had to raise six children. Thank God I can still work. The kids are gone and I am alone, but I’m working. I make bread every day. I sell it so I have money to pay my bills. I receive a pension, which is 150 thousand pesos, what can a person do with that amount of money? So I work so I don’t have to ask for money from my children.
How is the territory today?
Today, most women are housewives. There are even professional women who stay at home, because here there is no fieldwork for them, there is no work.
But in the mine?
They are mothers, they have partners . . . with the system of 7 × 7, 7 which makes it impossible for women to work in the mine. Who’s going to take care of the children if the women have to stay in the mine for seven days? That’s impossible. Here, there are very valuable women . . . and I feel sorry for them, because they are very skillful but their talent is wasted.
Now there is so much employment because of the mining, it is difficult to find people to work in agriculture. Imagine that there are crews of women who work with the grapes. That was a man’s job, but now is done by women. For me, that’s a change that the mine has produced.
Scene 2
Chileans must engage in a novel relationship with mining. Mining is not only one of the key developers of the economy, but it is also part of Chile’s DNA. We need to overcome the idea that we are a country that engages with mining to become a mining country.
We think of the mine as a way to improve the economy of the families who live in the valley, and the mine actually helps a lot of the families. Now women drive their cars to pick up their kids from school. But the difference between women and men remains the same as many years ago. I wonder what the role of the company is in this . . . Why should we think about a mining country, if when we talk about a country we think only of men . . . ? How are women incorporated into this new idea?
Actually, there is nothing like the domestic or the public. Everything is transected by the transnational. Families and their homes are part of the same structure; the boundary of the domestic is not established by four walls and a roof but by a patriarchal system. Therefore, the system that rules a country is a patriarchal system as well.
Look, I do not really like the mine, because of the environmental issue, but along the same line, I notice that the standard of living of Cuncumén has changed a lot because of the presence of the mine. You should not attack the mine too much, for better or for worse you realize you cannot undo it. Then, you feel regret, because, for example, before, the snow was white, and now it is black and dirty.
Do you notice the difference?
Of course I do. But you also notice the difference on the other side too . . . people live really well because of the mine. So, I think that here the man who does not work is like that because does not want to work.
It is interesting how you mentioned that men have plenty of options . . . You know who doesn’t? Women! You ever think about who has access to resources? I do because they’re not evenly distributed between men and women. And you know who legitimizes this? The nation-state!
But how is the nation involved in what happens inside a woman’s home?
When a project pretends to represent the convergence of multiple interests among many populations and only represents the voice of those who are permitted to participate, that is namely men, then this makes me think this is not a project for all but really a project that represents the interest of men. That omission excludes the intimate spaces of women.
I guess, the absence of the state in this territory, which has been exploited by the company, impacts not only the land, but also impacts the ability of the country to call itself a “developing country,” and also impacts in the absence of women. But still these women are better off than before; their husbands have jobs, now they have their own cars . . .
Yes, but it’s not a project that includes them. It’s a project that is shaped by men for the sake of men. Just look at the resistance that the company has experienced from the community. How many women are involved in the discussions? . . . One, two, maybe ten? And look at how many men are involved in the discussion. Don’t you think that the lack of women in the political discussion is also part of a project?
Well, most of the women I met were not able to describe how the mine functions or how the tail dam functions, but the men were able to do it. They may have the same level of education, but the act of being involved in the resistance made them need to teach themselves about the risks that are next to their homes . . . I hear the story of an old woman who wasn’t able to sleep at night until the day she died, because she always thought that the tail dam would collapse and kill her during her sleep. And that was so wrong, because the content of the tail dam is not liquid anymore . . .
How did you learn about her?
By talking with some women . . .
How did you learn about the consistency of the tail dam?
By talking with some men . . .
Do you see that? There is no division between the domestic and the public . . . If you cannot sleep because you are worried about the presence of a tail dam that may kill you, a tail dam that was authorized by the government . . . Where is the limit? It’s all an illusion . . . this erases the public–private language.
What Was in Discussion?
In this context of dispute, there is a mega mining project that makes the economy of the region grow, while affecting the life of the people who live next to the zone of extraction. This is not news for a country that has historically developed the mining industry. However, part of this community have opted to work together with the company to find a solution to the conflict, mainly with respect to the quality of the environment, but in this discussion, women’s perspectives are not considered as crucial as men’s perspectives in the community. The company and community members, especially those community members who are the leaders in the management of the conflict, steadily obviate the situation of women. The discussion focuses on the impact that mining production produces on the natural resources, such as land and water, in their relation to farm production.
In 2012, when I started to receive comments regarding the work that I put in circulation within community members who have participated in the research before, I was very surprised, because the first comments received were about the stories of the women in the locality. This reaction was out of what I could have expected, since the focus of this whole conflict has always been to discuss the material environment. Through the voice of some men, I learned that the story of the woman who couldn’t sleep at night out of fear of dying was not an isolated story, because other women of around the same age were experiencing the same fear. One of the community leaders asked me whether I was speaking about his mother in that piece; it wasn’t her story, but I learned through this question that the woman I’m speaking about was not the only one who feared the mine and its consequences.
Before I left Cuncumén, I held a meeting with four persons who wanted to learn more about what I’m doing with the research. I used the time to answer in detail what I am thinking and saying through my work. When we got to the point of discussing the performance, this is what happened:
So, let’s talk about the performance, what do you think about it?
I’m very surprised by the situation . . . it made me wonder if are we chauvinists too? Because I don’t consider myself that way.
(I feel I could cry after hearing this question. I have been waiting to hear a man wonder about these issues for a longtime) Yes, well, I think you are . . . If you look at how many women are participating in your organizations, you at least have to wonder why there are very few women as members or in roles of leadership. Actually, even for me it have been difficult, after years of knowing you, I’m finally able to tell you that when I was twenty-four years old and I met you, there was a time when I even was scared of what could happen. Once someone kicked a chair while yelling at me and my friend. I felt scared; I thought you would punch us. I know that wouldn’t happen, but still . . .
I know, I remember . . . but he always reacts that way, you need to understand . . .
Yeah, but it’s not only that, for instance, the other day during a meeting the woman who was presenting her communication plan had to start yelling in spite of talking so the men in the room would listen to what she had to say.
Now that we know each other better, I understand your frustration at that time when we discussed about the radio, I also understand that this reaction was not against us, but it represented a reaction against the same violence of which you also have been victim at the time. I also think that in your public meetings, women have to be very aggressive and raise their voice all the time if they want to be heard, which is not the same requirement for men. I recognize that you invite everyone to participate, but have you ever wondered if women were not able to attend the community meetings that happen at night because they are taking care of their children at the same time?
Conversations like these were repeated during my stay in the community. I got feedback from women who helped to expand the view I had about their politics and also learned how some of them are becoming more engaged in the public discussion of the relationship between community and company, and about the difficulties they are overcoming to become active members of the local organizations. I also learned that one man read the performance with his wife and told her that these are the kind of things they do during their meetings. He told me he wanted to encourage her to participate. This time, I was able to meet more women who are participating in the public discussions related to the conflict, which is a sign of progress that women are initiating.
As a researcher, I think this is a crucial lesson I can learn from my experience initiating a conversation about gender inequalities and then going back to the community of Valle Alto to engage in new conversations with the community members to talk not only about their lives but also about my work and my personal experience doing fieldwork. Rather than looking for claims of knowledge, I was able to engage with other people with whom I shared similar concerns. Thus, I have understood through this practice that my agency does not come from me but from my capacity in the social, in the common vision that we share (Zerilli, 2005). As a result, I now understand that my agency as a researcher comes through participating in collective actions, which is something that researchers face between analysis and action. These collective actions are spaces in between that may open new possibilities to tailor the social systems in ways that are not mandated by a productive system (Conquergood, 2002) and where all subjects are animated, human in all their capacities. According to Freire (2005), “the more the oppressors control the oppressed, the more they change them into apparently inanimate ‘things’” (p. 59), which is part of the logic when the company includes the nearby communities as part of Los Pelambres’ extraction process.
The Measurement
According to Denzin and Lincoln (2011),
Qualitative researchers stress the socially constructed nature of reality, the intimate relationship between the researcher and what is studied, and the situational constrains that shape inquiry. Such researchers emphasize the value-laden nature of inquiry. They seek answers to questions that stress how social experience is created and given meaning. In contrast, quantitative studies emphasize the measurement and analysis of causal relationships between variables, not processes. Proponents claim that their work is done within a value-free framework. (p. 8)
Under this description, one of the lessons learned by experimenting with writing a performance is the chance that a new format to learn about a social process could pave a path for a discussion in terms that excide the quantitative norm. I mention this, because whenever the discussion about the territory is held by the company and community members, the discussion focuses on the quantitative data that show the impact or lack of it in the environment. Until now, the company measures the community in terms of productivity and how they can become assets of value for the production through a discourse of environmental sustainability, in which everyone becomes part of the mining process. In this case, the performance creates a space in which the intimate relations of the researcher can be used to advance the political discussion using a discourse that is not solely reproducing the logic of a productive model.
There are many stories that are hidden behind the measures, which from a feminist communitarian ethics should be included in a discourse that “represent[s] multiple voices, enhances moral discernment, and promotes social transformation” (Christians, 2011, p. 71). To gain access to this sort of discourse, it is necessary to claim feminist theory and praxis as part of research; otherwise, research could end as a mechanism of reproduction of logic that annihilates an agenda of social justice.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
