Joanne Rappaport – författare

According to legend, Cumbe ruled the Colombian community of Cumbal during the Spanish invasion. Although there is no documentation of Chief Cumbe's existence, today's Cumbales point to him as their link to Pasto ancestors. His image reappears often in popular music, theatre, community organization and militant politics as the Cumbales attempt to reinvigorate their indigenous heritage and reclaim their lands. Joanne Rappaport examines the Cumbales' reappropriation of history and the resulting reinvention of tradition. She explores the ways in which personal memories are interpreted in non-verbal expression, such as ritual and material culture, as well as in oral and written communication. This approach aims to make a contribution both to our understanding of ethnic militancy in the Americas and to the broader methodological discussion of historical consciousness under colonial domination.

According to legend, Cumbe ruled the Colombian community of Cumbal during the Spanish invasion. Although there is no documentation of Chief Cumbe's existence, today's Cumbales point to him as their link to Pasto ancestors. His image reappears often in popular music, theatre, community organization and militant politics as the Cumbales attempt to reinvigorate their indigenous heritage and reclaim their lands. Joanne Rappaport examines the Cumbales' reappropriation of history and the resulting reinvention of tradition. She explores the ways in which personal memories are interpreted in non-verbal expression, such as ritual and material culture, as well as in oral and written communication. This approach aims to make a contribution both to our understanding of ethnic militancy in the Americas and to the broader methodological discussion of historical consciousness under colonial domination.

How does a culture in which writing is not a prominent feature create historical tradition? In The Politics of Memory, Joanne Rappaport answers this question by tracing the past three centuries of the intellectual history of the Nasa-a community in the Colombian Andes. Focusing on the Nasa historians of the eighteenth through twentieth centuries, Rappaport highlights the differences between "native" history and Eurocentric history and demonstrates how these histories must be examined in relation to the particular circumstances in which they were produced. Reconsidering the predominantly mythic status of non-Western historical narrative, Rappaport identifies the political realities that influenced the form and content of Andean history, revealing the distinct historical vision of these stories. Because of her examination of the influences of literacy in the creation of history, Rappaport’s analysis makes a special contribution to Latin American and Andean studies, solidly grounding subaltern texts in their sociopolitical contexts.

Although only 2 percent of Colombia’s population identifies as indigenous, that figure belies the significance of the country’s indigenous movement. More than a quarter of the Colombian national territory belongs to indigenous groups, and 80 percent of the country’s mineral resources are located in native-owned lands. In this innovative ethnography, Joanne Rappaport draws on research she has conducted in Colombia over the past decade-and particularly on her collaborations with activists-to explore the country’s multifaceted indigenous movement, which, after almost 35 years, continues to press for rights to live as indigenous people in a pluralistic society that recognizes them as citizens. Focusing on the intellectuals involved in the movement, Rappaport traces the development of a distinctly indigenous modernity in Latin America-one that defies common stereotypes of separatism or a romantic return to the past. As she reveals, this emerging form of modernity is characterized by interethnic communication and the reframing of selectively appropriated Western research methodologies within indigenous philosophical frameworks.Intercultural Utopias centers on southwestern Colombia’s Cauca region, a culturally and linguistically heterogeneous area well known for its history of indigenous mobilization and its pluralist approach to ethnic politics. Rappaport interweaves the stories of individuals with an analysis of the history of the Regional Indigenous Council of Cauca and other indigenous organizations. She presents insights into the movement and the intercultural relationships that characterize it from the varying perspectives of regional indigenous activists, nonindigenous urban intellectuals dedicated to the fight for indigenous rights, anthropologists, local teachers, shamans, and native politicians.

In Beyond the Lettered City, the anthropologist Joanne Rappaport and the art historian Tom Cummins examine the colonial imposition of alphabetic and visual literacy on indigenous groups in the northern Andes. They consider how the Andean peoples received, maintained, and subverted the conventions of Spanish literacy, often combining them with their own traditions. Indigenous Andean communities neither used narrative pictorial representation nor had alphabetic or hieroglyphic literacy before the arrival of the Spaniards. To absorb the conventions of Spanish literacy, they had to engage with European symbolic systems. Doing so altered their worldviews and everyday lives, making alphabetic and visual literacy prime tools of colonial domination. Rappaport and Cummins advocate a broad understanding of literacy, including not only reading and writing, but also interpretations of the spoken word, paintings, wax seals, gestures, and urban design. By analyzing secular and religious notarial manuals and dictionaries, urban architecture, religious images, catechisms and sermons, and the vast corpus of administrative documents produced by the colonial authorities and indigenous scribes, they expand Ángel Rama’s concept of the lettered city to encompass many of those who previously would have been considered the least literate.

Much of the scholarship on difference in colonial Spanish America has been based on the "racial" categorizations of indigeneity, Africanness, and the eighteenth-century Mexican castas system. Adopting an alternative approach to the question of difference, Joanne Rappaport examines what it meant to be mestizo (of mixed parentage) in the early colonial era. She draws on lively vignettes culled from the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century archives of the New Kingdom of Granada (modern-day Colombia) to show that individuals classified as "mixed" were not members of coherent sociological groups. Rather, they slipped in and out of the mestizo category. Sometimes they were identified as mestizos, sometimes as Indians or Spaniards. In other instances, they identified themselves by attributes such as their status, the language that they spoke, or the place where they lived. The Disappearing Mestizo suggests that processes of identification in early colonial Spanish America were fluid and rooted in an epistemology entirely distinct from modern racial discourses.

Much of the scholarship on difference in colonial Spanish America has been based on the "racial" categorizations of indigeneity, Africanness, and the eighteenth-century Mexican castas system. Adopting an alternative approach to the question of difference, Joanne Rappaport examines what it meant to be mestizo (of mixed parentage) in the early colonial era. She draws on lively vignettes culled from the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century archives of the New Kingdom of Granada (modern-day Colombia) to show that individuals classified as "mixed" were not members of coherent sociological groups. Rather, they slipped in and out of the mestizo category. Sometimes they were identified as mestizos, sometimes as Indians or Spaniards. In other instances, they identified themselves by attributes such as their status, the language that they spoke, or the place where they lived. The Disappearing Mestizo suggests that processes of identification in early colonial Spanish America were fluid and rooted in an epistemology entirely distinct from modern racial discourses.

Much of the scholarship on difference in colonial Spanish America has been based on the "racial" categorizations of indigeneity, Africanness, and the eighteenth-century Mexican castas system. Adopting an alternative approach to the question of difference, Joanne Rappaport examines what it meant to be mestizo (of mixed parentage) in the early colonial era. She draws on lively vignettes culled from the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century archives of the New Kingdom of Granada (modern-day Colombia) to show that individuals classified as "mixed" were not members of coherent sociological groups. Rather, they slipped in and out of the mestizo category. Sometimes they were identified as mestizos, sometimes as Indians or Spaniards. In other instances, they identified themselves by attributes such as their status, the language that they spoke, or the place where they lived. The Disappearing Mestizo suggests that processes of identification in early colonial Spanish America were fluid and rooted in an epistemology entirely distinct from modern racial discourses. 

Although only 2 percent of Colombia’s population identifies as indigenous, that figure belies the significance of the country’s indigenous movement. More than a quarter of the Colombian national territory belongs to indigenous groups, and 80 percent of the country’s mineral resources are located in native-owned lands. In this innovative ethnography, Joanne Rappaport draws on research she has conducted in Colombia over the past decade—and particularly on her collaborations with activists—to explore the country’s multifaceted indigenous movement, which, after almost 35 years, continues to press for rights to live as indigenous people in a pluralistic society that recognizes them as citizens. Focusing on the intellectuals involved in the movement, Rappaport traces the development of a distinctly indigenous modernity in Latin America—one that defies common stereotypes of separatism or a romantic return to the past. As she reveals, this emerging form of modernity is characterized by interethnic communication and the reframing of selectively appropriated Western research methodologies within indigenous philosophical frameworks.

Intercultural Utopias centers on southwestern Colombia’s Cauca region, a culturally and linguistically heterogeneous area well known for its history of indigenous mobilization and its pluralist approach to ethnic politics. Rappaport interweaves the stories of individuals with an analysis of the history of the Regional Indigenous Council of Cauca and other indigenous organizations. She presents insights into the movement and the intercultural relationships that characterize it from the varying perspectives of regional indigenous activists, nonindigenous urban intellectuals dedicated to the fight for indigenous rights, anthropologists, local teachers, shamans, and native politicians.

In Beyond the Lettered City, the anthropologist Joanne Rappaport and the art historian Tom Cummins examine the colonial imposition of alphabetic and visual literacy on indigenous groups in the northern Andes. They consider how the Andean peoples received, maintained, and subverted the conventions of Spanish literacy, often combining them with their own traditions. Indigenous Andean communities neither used narrative pictorial representation nor had alphabetic or hieroglyphic literacy before the arrival of the Spaniards. To absorb the conventions of Spanish literacy, they had to engage with European symbolic systems. Doing so altered their worldviews and everyday lives, making alphabetic and visual literacy prime tools of colonial domination. Rappaport and Cummins advocate a broad understanding of literacy, including not only reading and writing, but also interpretations of the spoken word, paintings, wax seals, gestures, and urban design. By analyzing secular and religious notarial manuals and dictionaries, urban architecture, religious images, catechisms and sermons, and the vast corpus of administrative documents produced by the colonial authorities and indigenous scribes, they expand Ángel Rama’s concept of the lettered city to encompass many of those who previously would have been considered the least literate.

How does a culture in which writing is not a prominent feature create historical tradition? In The Politics of Memory, Joanne Rappaport answers this question by tracing the past three centuries of the intellectual history of the Nasa—a community in the Colombian Andes. Focusing on the Nasa historians of the eighteenth through twentieth centuries, Rappaport highlights the differences between "native" history and Eurocentric history and demonstrates how these histories must be examined in relation to the particular circumstances in which they were produced.Reconsidering the predominantly mythic status of non-Western historical narrative, Rappaport identifies the political realities that influenced the form and content of Andean history, revealing the distinct historical vision of these stories. Because of her examination of the influences of literacy in the creation of history, Rappaport’s analysis makes a special contribution to Latin American and Andean studies, solidly grounding subaltern texts in their sociopolitical contexts.

In the early 1970s, a group of Colombian intellectuals led by the pioneering sociologist Orlando Fals Borda created a research-activist collective called La Rosca de InvestigaciÓn y AcciÓn Social (Circle of Research and Social Action). Combining sociological and historical research with a firm commitment to grassroots social movements, Fals Borda and his colleagues collaborated with indigenous and peasant organizations throughout Colombia. In Cowards Don’t Make History Joanne Rappaport examines the development of participatory action research on the Caribbean coast, highlighting Fals Borda’s rejection of traditional positivist research frameworks in favor of sharing his own authority as a researcher with peasant activists. Fals Borda and his colleagues inserted themselves as researcher-activists into the activities of the National Association of Peasant Users, coordinated research priorities with its leaders, studied the history of peasant struggles, and, in collaboration with peasant researchers, prepared accessible materials for an organizational readership, thereby transforming research into a political organizing tool. Rappaport shows how the fundamental concepts of participatory action research as they were framed by Fals Borda continue to be relevant to engaged social scientists and other researchers in Latin America and beyond.

In the early 1970s, a group of Colombian intellectuals led by the pioneering sociologist Orlando Fals Borda created a research-activist collective called La Rosca de InvestigaciÓn y AcciÓn Social (Circle of Research and Social Action). Combining sociological and historical research with a firm commitment to grassroots social movements, Fals Borda and his colleagues collaborated with indigenous and peasant organizations throughout Colombia. In Cowards Don’t Make History Joanne Rappaport examines the development of participatory action research on the Caribbean coast, highlighting Fals Borda’s rejection of traditional positivist research frameworks in favor of sharing his own authority as a researcher with peasant activists. Fals Borda and his colleagues inserted themselves as researcher-activists into the activities of the National Association of Peasant Users, coordinated research priorities with its leaders, studied the history of peasant struggles, and, in collaboration with peasant researchers, prepared accessible materials for an organizational readership, thereby transforming research into a political organizing tool. Rappaport shows how the fundamental concepts of participatory action research as they were framed by Fals Borda continue to be relevant to engaged social scientists and other researchers in Latin America and beyond.

In the early 1970s, a group of Colombian intellectuals led by the pioneering sociologist Orlando Fals Borda created a research-activist collective called La Rosca de Investigación y Acción Social (Circle of Research and Social Action). Combining sociological and historical research with a firm commitment to grassroots social movements, Fals Borda and his colleagues collaborated with indigenous and peasant organizations throughout Colombia. In Cowards Don’t Make History Joanne Rappaport examines the development of participatory action research on the Caribbean coast, highlighting Fals Borda’s rejection of traditional positivist research frameworks in favor of sharing his own authority as a researcher with peasant activists. Fals Borda and his colleagues inserted themselves as researcher-activists into the activities of the National Association of Peasant Users, coordinated research priorities with its leaders, studied the history of peasant struggles, and, in collaboration with peasant researchers, prepared accessible materials for an organizational readership, thereby transforming research into a political organizing tool. Rappaport shows how the fundamental concepts of participatory action research as they were framed by Fals Borda continue to be relevant to engaged social scientists and other researchers in Latin America and beyond.

In the 1970s, new methods of social science research began to flower in Latin America, connecting academic researchers to grassroots social movements. One of these was participatory action research, a method now used by community organizers, educational activists, and social scientists around the world.Historieta Doble traces the roots of participatory action research to the Caribbean coast of Colombia, and to the work of visionary sociologist Orlando Fals Borda with the Colombian Peasant Movement. Beautifully illustrated, this graphic novel shows how Fals Borda combined research and theory with political participation and activism, using comics to capture rural historical memory and allow peasants to see themselves as historical actors.This graphic history presents a fascinating journey through time, weaving Fals Borda’s original research with Joanne Rappaport’s contemporary reconstruction of his compelling story. The book features the artistic work of Ulianov Chalarka, whose comic panels brought Fals Borda’s research to life in the 1970s. Historieta Doble is a visual and narrative feast that transcends eras, connecting the past and present within the vibrant world of Latin American comics.

In the 1970s, new methods of social science research began to flower in Latin America, connecting academic researchers to grassroots social movements. One of these was participatory action research, a method now used by community organizers, educational activists, and social scientists around the world.Historieta Doble traces the roots of participatory action research to the Caribbean coast of Colombia, and to the work of visionary sociologist Orlando Fals Borda with the Colombian Peasant Movement. Beautifully illustrated, this graphic novel shows how Fals Borda combined research and theory with political participation and activism, using comics to capture rural historical memory and allow peasants to see themselves as historical actors.This graphic history presents a fascinating journey through time, weaving Fals Borda’s original research with Joanne Rappaport’s contemporary reconstruction of his compelling story. The book features the artistic work of Ulianov Chalarka, whose comic panels brought Fals Borda’s research to life in the 1970s. Historieta Doble is a visual and narrative feast that transcends eras, connecting the past and present within the vibrant world of Latin American comics.

"En la década de 1970, nuevos métodos de investigación en ciencias sociales comenzaron a florecer en América Latina, conectando a los investigadores académicos con los movimientos sociales de base. Uno de ellos fue la investigación-acción participativa, un método que ahora utilizan organizadores comunitarios, activistas educativos y científicos sociales de todo el mundo. Historieta doble remonta las raíces de la investigación acción participativa a la costa caribeña de Colombia y al trabajo del sociólogo visionario Orlando Fals Borda con el Movimiento Campesino Colombiano. Bellamente ilustrada, esta novela gráfica muestra cómo Fals Borda combinó la investigación y la teoría con la participación y el activismo políticos, utilizando cómics para capturar la memoria histórica rural y permitir que los campesinos se vieran a sí mismos como actores históricos. Esta historia gráfica nos invita a un fascinante viaje a través del tiempo, entrelazando la investigación original de Fals Borda con la reconstrucción contemporánea de Joanne Rappaport de su convincente historia. El libro recoge el trabajo artístico de Ulianov Chalarka, cuyos paneles cómicos dieron vida a las investigaciones de Fals Borda en los años setenta. Historieta doble es un festín visual y narrativo que trasciende épocas, conectando el pasado y el presente dentro del vibrante mundo del cómic latinoamericano."

Este libro estudia la región suroccidental del Cauca - Colombia, una zona que es cultural y lingüísticamente heterogénea, conocida por su historia de movilización indígena y el carácter pluralista de su política étnica. La autora entreteje las historias de vida de activistas individuales con un análisis de la trayectoria del Consejo Regional Indígena de Cauca y otras organizaciones de este tipo. Presenta nuevas interpretaciones del movimiento y de las relaciones interculturales que lo definen, desde las diversas perspectivas de activistas regionales indígenas, intelectuales urbanos no indígenas que colaboran con estas organizaciones, antropólogos, maestros, chamanes y políticos.

"En este libro Joanne Rappaport y el historiador Tom Cummins estudian la imposición colonial del letramiento alfabético y visual a los grupos indígenas en los Andes septentrionales. Los autores analizan con profundidad cómo los pueblos andinos recibieron y mantuvieron las convenciones del letramiento de España y se subvirtieron a ellas, muchas veces combinándolas con sus propias tradiciones. Las comunidades indígenas de los Andes ni usaban una representación narrativa pictórica ni tenían una escritura alfabética o jeroglífica antes de la llegada de los españoles. Para asimilar las convenciones del letramiento español hubieron de comprometerse con los sistemas de símbolos europeos. Al hacerlo, se alteró su visión del mundo y su vida cotidiana, con lo que el letramiento alfabético y el visual se convirtieron en herramientas primordiales del dominio colonial.Rappaport y Cummins emprenden un camino a un conocimiento profundo del letramiento, teniendo en cuenta no solo la lectura y la escritura, sino también las interpretaciones de la palabra hablada, pinturas, sellos de lacre, gestos y el diseño urbano. Al analizar manuales notariales y diccionarios seculares y religiosos, la arquitectura urbana, imágenes religiosas, catecismos y sermones, así como el vasto corpus de documentos administrativos producidos por las autoridades coloniales y los escribanos indígenas, desarrollan y amplían el concepto de Ángel Rama de la ciudad letrada para cubrir a muchos de aquellos que podrían considerarse los menos alfabetizados.

Una gran parte de la investigación académica sobre las diferencias en la América colonial hispánica se ha centrado en la categorización "racial" de la indigeneidad, la africanidad y el sistema de castas mexicano del siglo xviii. Mediante un enfoque alternativo al tema de la diferencia, Joanne Rappaport examina lo que significaba ser mestizo durante el comienzo de la Colonia. Para ello se vale de vivas viñetas seleccionadas de los archivos de los siglos XVI y XVII del Nuevo Reino de Granada (la actual Colombia) para mostrar que los individuos clasificados como "mezclados" no eran miembros de grupos sociológicos coherentes. Más bien, se deslizaban adentro y afuera de la categoría mestizo. A veces se les identificaba como mestizos, a veces como indios o españoles. En otras ocasiones se identificaban a sí mismos mediante atributos como su estatus, su lenguaje o su lugar de residencia. El mestizo evanescente sugiere que los procesos de identificación durante la Colonia temprana en América eran fluidos y se anclaban en una epistemología completamente distinta a la de los discursos raciales modernos.