Abstract
The pressing need for dialogue leading to deeper understanding and effective action in relation to questions of structural inequity has perhaps never been so acutely felt as in 2020. The disparate health and economic impacts of the Covid-19 pandemic and the momentum of the Black Lives Matter movement have prompted many working in the field of education to re-examine and renew their commitments to a social justice agenda. Exploring both literal and figurative journeys in her book Beyond Guilt Trips: Mindful Travel in an Unequal World, Anu Taranath accordingly argues for the conscious development of a mindful approach to travel, encouraging Westerners to engage purposefully and productively with questions of how historical hierarchies and socially constructed systems of bias influence people’s expectations and life opportunities. Taranath provides welcome and well-timed insights into the what and why of guilt and confusion arising from the recognition of unfair privilege. More importantly, the book offers practical tools for how to guide reflection and discussion beyond these emotional responses towards authentic engagement and concrete action. As the playful title suggests, guilt trips function on a variety of levels. Speaking directly to Global Northerners travelling to low-income countries in the Global South, and equally to those dealing with differences lived at home, the author openly distances herself from an isolating shame-and-blame stance in order to create space for learning opportunities leading to connection and transformation within, and beyond, ourselves.
Social identity theory frames recognition and reaction to differences and similarities through the lens of the social group. Our tendency to categorise other people based on salient characteristics allows for rapid and efficient sorting into in-groups – those I belong to – and out-groups – those I don’t. What we perceive as similar or different depends on context; gender, age, school colours, accent, and – of central importance to Taranath in her sensitive exploration of encountering difference at home or abroad – physical markers such as skin colour, hair or facial features. One of the biggest challenges for the education sector is how to acknowledge the deep human need for belonging while mitigating the negative effects of in-group bias, the feeling of superiority that emerges from merely distinguishing ‘my’ group from another’s.
The first chapter of the book, entitled Before you Buy your Ticket, Read This, opens with an honest look at the complex politics of simply noticing difference, tracing the inner workings of belonging and the psychology behind the pull we feel towards those ‘like us’. Because social rules of propriety can become a false filter for claims of colour-blindness, the author illustrates how we are often implicitly taught to associate noticing certain types of difference with discomfort. Looking away from difference is revealed as both the effect of the historical inheritance of purposeful and overt racism and the root of its perpetuation. Taranath argues that learning to recognise and acknowledge differences paves the way for better inter-personal and community connections, and must be seen as an act of agency. We can choose to engage with the emotions arising from uncomfortable or confusing experiences, and we can choose to question the meaning of our own identities in relation to the identities of others.
This conscious act begins with focusing on ‘who is present’ – purposefully acknowledging different kinds of difference and the advantages they convey. Taranath advocates slowing down and noticing how we are feeling and thinking about difference, to allow for complexity to emerge without us immediately jumping to ‘fix’ what seems wrong or dismissing it as unresolvable. In her second chapter, Luggage We Take With Us, the author refers to this act of being present as ‘holding space’, further developing the idea for the reader and practitioner through the subsequent provision of thoughtful guiding questions and structured reflection exercises after each successive section of the book.
Important but often vaguely employed concepts such as identity fluidity, the mythical norm, hyper- and under-visibility, and intersectionality are here brought to life through the multiple voices interwoven throughout. Vignettes, stories and testimonials from different travellers – far and near – are by turns painfully recognisable and delightful. Referring to Helena Maria Viramontes’ statement that ‘empathy is the glue that makes the words of a writer stick to the reader, and in this era of globalisation, understanding and feeling the life of another through narratives is a non-violent act of sheer humane importance’, Taranath provides insights into the struggles and sore spots inherent in facing up to privilege and injustice through honest and brave personal stories. In the book’s third and fourth chapters, Ticket Bought Parts 1 and 2, issues of identity, culture and race – as well as the hurtful ways in which structural issues can surface in cross-racial relationships – are illustrated through different narratives. A group of US students in Morocco, two friends visiting Brazil; each faces the implications of their own identity as seen through the eyes of the local community. These stories allow for recognition and exploration of complexity. For example, the story of an explosive incident in Brazil, where a friendship is challenged by issues of skin colour and belonging coming to the fore, not only provides a concrete example of how to navigate risky psychological terrain but illustrates the intersectionality of identity.
Facing up to one’s own positionality leads to a critical consideration of the purpose and impact of ‘do-good’ travel. Taranath’s scepticism of the multiple definitions of global citizenship and of the related notion that overseas travel leads to the creation of the same is understandable, if dismissive of a concept that has recently seen much positive educational work in well-grounded curricula and learning frameworks. The author grapples with the question of what to do with new knowledge gained about economic systems based on exploitation and unequal access to resources and opportunities in a chapter entitled Limits to the Well-Intentioned Desire to Do Good. She acknowledges the hard truth that the Western volunteering industry can be seen as a neocolonial exercise in ego-building, with others serving as a springboard for one’s own increased self-satisfaction. Yet the author pushes beyond cynicism or despair by leading the reader through tricky conversations about justice and ethics while simultaneously offering strategies to stay present and use the ‘tiny pockets of agency’ that encounters with others contain.
This delicate balancing act of holding on to conflicting thoughts and feelings requires practice and skill. Taranath argues that our lack of such skills hinders our interpretation of emotions, our navigation of guilt and our ability to give voice to experiences. Throughout the book, the theme of mindfulness is woven into practical examples of how to avoid the impulse to shut down, become defensive or trapped in denial. Travel-abroad experiences are just one place in which formal spaces are recommended as a means to facilitate the building of speak-out-loud skills and the careful consideration of how racial and ethnic identity, culture, class, sexuality and gender intersect with power and privilege. Though no single road map exists, with practice we can navigate through the discomfort of losing our bearings towards a stance of open listening and being present. The idea of breathing into the moment as a powerful tool for transformation may appear overly simplistic, but Taranath argues that paying attention to ‘details, patterns, and behaviours associated with identity and social advantage’ can lead to more effective action against unjust structures.
One of the main strengths of Beyond Guilt Trips is its rare engagement with the fact that building critical thinking through experiential education opens students’ eyes to the heavy weight of new knowledge about the status quo. The author’s frank discussion of the need to counter waves of despair or paralysis is not often considered in literature on developing global citizens or intercultural competencies. Asking each of us to recognise that a world of joy co-exists with a world of suffering is not a Pollyanna platitude but a path to hopeful growth. By illustrating the inclusive framework for thought that the seemingly simple word ‘and’ allows, the author encourages us to embrace complexity: an open conversation navigates between honesty and discomfort; we need to be critical and compassionate when thinking about our ‘do-good’ activities; our global experiences and our local lives can be improved by mindful travel; our unexamined thought processes can be comforting and narrow-minded.
Taranath’s writing is keenly informed by years of work in the field of racial equity as an educator, facilitator and speaker. Approachable and honest, her book is a much-needed resource for students and educators looking for a way to listen and learn about questions that need answering, in 2020 in particular. How do histories, policies and attitudes shape each of our lives? How is the inherited web of historical inequalities perpetuated through contemporary systemic inequalities? And how can I better engage with difference while supporting the students I work with to do the same?