Teaching Culture: UTP Ethnographies for the Classroom - Böcker

Imagine that you have just lost your job. You wonder: “Who or what can I depend on now?” The answer, it turns out, varies significantly depending on where you live. In Norway, a small European social democracy, you would almost certainly turn to the country’s comprehensive public welfare system. With a work history, you could be eligible for two years of unemployment benefits that replace upwards of 62% of your previous salary. Meanwhile, you would not be too worried about covering other major expenses: annual out-of-pocket healthcare costs are capped at a few hundred dollars, parents receive monthly payments per child, public education is tuition-free, and pensions are guaranteed. What would this experience teach you about government, work, taxes, and freedom?In Down and Out in Utopia, anthropologist Kelly McKowen explains what happens to those without jobs in one of the world’s wealthiest and most egalitarian countries. Following the daily lives of a diverse group of unemployed individuals during the “oil crash” of the mid-2010s, he shows that being “down and out” in a social democracy offers people a unique moral education with lessons about the nature and value of the state, labour, welfare, and belonging. Engaging, timely, and illuminating, Down and Out in Utopia makes the case that through social policy, we shape life’s hardships – and these hardships, in turn, shape us and how we view the world.

Return to Storytelling is a lyrical ethnographic work that presents stories from healers, community members, storytellers, witches, sceptics, and tricksters in an intentionally unnamed Central American Indigenous community. Anthropologist Karen Stocker investigates how stories of all kinds – written historical accounts, stories told within the community, and stories familiar to readers from North American backgrounds – shape people’s frameworks for interpreting both the everyday and the extraordinary. Stocker interrogates history as portrayed in sixteenth-century chronicles and upends scholarly writing styles in favour of the verbal artistry characteristic of the community as well as the Latin American magical realist genre. Thus, Return to Storytelling constitutes an inverted ethnography that prioritizes community collective memory over colonizers’ accounts, and privileges critical insight conveyed in accessible language over jargon-laden writing. At the same time, it remains grounded in sound, long-term ethnographic research and ultimately urges readers to question how they know what they know. By refusing clear distinctions between scholarly voice and storytelling, past and present, or belief and scepticism, this book invites readers to sit with ambiguity as a productive space of knowledge. It offers not only a rethinking of ethnographic practice but also a broader meditation on storytelling as a political, ethical, and imaginative force that continues to shape lives long after colonial encounters.

Thousands of children participate in community sports every year, enjoying recreation time with their peers, getting healthy exercise, and learning a variety of personal and group skills. At the same time, children's sports are not without controversy: parents can be overly invested in their children's exploits, competitive success is often the focus, and rising costs can limit participation. Consider, too, that these activities, billed as being for the kids, are often overlaid with other agendas by the adults who volunteer, work, and generally support children's sports. Noel Dyck incorporates nearly two decades of ethnographic field research into this anthropologically informed account that illustrates how all those involved in children's sports-boys and girls, parents, coaches, and sport officials-shape these complex, vibrant fields of play. In the process, he explores larger questions and debates about contemporary family and community and the shaping of childhood, youth, and adulthood. Bridging anthropology, sport studies, and childhood studies, Fields of Play offers a rich understanding of an area that has, to date, gained relatively little attention by social scientists.

In the cities of Northeast Brazil where 50 per cent of the population lives in poverty, children play a key role in the local economy-in their households, in formal jobs, and in the thriving informal sector (washing cars, shining shoes, scavenging for recyclables, etc.). Why children migrate to the city, how they negotiate their existence, and why they stay are just some of the questions addressed in this fascinating study. Mary Kenny spent close to 15 years in the urban areas of Northeast Brazil talking with and interviewing children. She even gave them disposable cameras to document their daily lives (many of the photographs they took are included). Rather than lament a lost childhood, or try to save these children, Kenny explores some of the complex conditions under which these children work and live. She illustrates how unrelenting scarcity shapes family and, by extension, children's options, decisions, and worldviews. The issues raised in this book are of critical importance. There are no easy answers, but listening to how these children define themselves and their circumstances is an important step towards understanding and ultimately solving economic and social inequality.

Why did the rate of homelessness remain at significant levels while the US economy was supposedly booming and hundreds of millions of dollars were spent in the homeless sheltering industry? Drawing upon five years of ethnographic fieldwork in a homeless shelter in Northampton, Massachusetts, Lyon-Callo argues that homelessness must be understood within the context of increasing neoliberal policies, practices, and discourses. As advocates, activists, policy makers, and homeless people focused attention on market-based and individualized practices of reform and governance, collective efforts that challenged an economy dependent on low wage jobs, declining housing affordability, and the dismantling of the social safety net were marginalized and ignored. Homelessness continued, despite, and partly due to, the limitations of the neoliberal approach. Combining the rich detail of an ethnographic study with the systemic examination of political economic studies, this book offers a view of homelessness and inequality that is rarely explored elsewhere. Chapters include discussion of the medicalization of homelessness, the difficulty of finding paid employment given broader political economic conditions, how shelter staff are trained to manage homeless people, how statistics are used to produce ideas of homeless people as deviants, and how funding concerns affect possibilities for resistance. Key to the study is an activist approach that raises the possibilities and problems associated with a publicly engaged anthropology.

Most ethnographic treatments of other cultures restrict the voice of their "subjects"; at most, description and analysis by the observer are accompanied by brief selective quotation. With a methodological openness that may be particularly appropriate to gender studies, anthropologist Judith Abwunza provides in this ethnography both the fruit of her research into the lives of Logoli women of Western Kenya and substantial transcripts giving the women's own description and analysis of their situation.The Avalogoli remain a strongly patriarchal society. Yet, as in many such societies elsewhere in Africa and indeed around the world, women have demonstrated a resilience under patriarchy that has resulted in their nominal power being far outweighed by their actual power. As Abwunza demonstrates, the economic survival of the Avalogoli is dependent not only on women's works but also on their decision-making. Through 'back-door decisions' they have a surprising power to influence national as well as local events. Women's Voices, Women's Power offers no apologies for a system that remains disturbingly patriarchal. But it does attempt to face directly the complexities and paradoxes involved-not the least of which is that many of the women posture an adherence to patriarchy even as they describe the disproportionate burden it places upon them. And it seeks an understanding of the ways in which Logoli society is changing in the face of increasing capitalism and commodification-processes that the author argues may simultaneously empower and disempower women.

As recently as three decades ago most Inuit lived a lifestyle much like that of their forbearers: "living on the land," with the men hunting according to time-honoured methods and the women performing the same round of daily tasks that their grandmothers and great grandmothers had done. Today these people typically live in settlements, some of them distinctly urban in character. Adults work for wages and use electric appliances, children listen to stereos and run about the settlement on motorbikes. As anthropologist John Matthiasson observes, "the Inuit child of today may look back in fond nostalgia on the lifestyle of his parents when they lived on the land, but he cannot return to it." Matthiasson, who has remained in contact with the Tununermiut since the 1960s, offers both a vivid picture of Inuit society as it was and an illuminating look at the nature and the extent of the enormous changes of the past thirty years.

The Maya of the Yucatán have long been drawn into the Mexican state's attempt to create modern Mexican citizens (mestizos). At the same time, they have contended with globalization pressures, first with hemp production and more recently with increased tourism and the fast-growing influence of American-based evangelical Protestantism. Despite these pressures to turn Maya into mestizo, the citizens of the small town of Maxcanú have used subtle forms of resistance-humor, satire, and language-to maintain aspects of their traditional identity.Loewe offers a contemporary look at a Maya community caught between tradition and modernity. He skilfully weaves the history of Mexico and this particular community into the analysis, offering a unique understanding of how one local community has faced the onslaught of modernization.

In this fascinating exploration of citizenship and the politics of culture in contemporary France, Ingram examines two theatre troupes in Provence: one based in a small town in the rural part of the Vaucluse region, and the other an urban project in Marseille, France's most culturally diverse city. Both troupes are committed to explicitly civic goals in the tradition of citizens' theatre. Focusing on the personal stories of the theatre artists in these two troupes, and the continuities between their narratives, their performances, and the national discourse directed by the Ministry of Culture, Ingram examines the ways in which these artists interpret universalistic ideals underlying both art and the Republic in their theatrical work. In the process he charts the evolution of new models for society and citizenship in a rapidly changing France.

Since the 1990s, the Ankarana region of northern Madagascar has developed a reputation among globe-trotting gemstone traders and tourists as a source of some of the world's most precious natural wonders. Although some might see Ankarana's sapphire and ecotourist trades as being at odds with each other, many local people understand these trades to be fundamentally connected, most obviously in how both serve foreign demand for what Madagascar has to offer the world. Walsh explores the tensions and speculations that have come with the parallel emergence of these two trades with sensitivity and a critical eye, allowing for insights into globalization, inequality, and the appeal of the "natural." For more information, and to read a hyperlinked version of the first chapter online, visit https://madeinmadagascar.wordpress.com.

Charting the rise and fall of an experimental biomedical facility at a North American university, Culturing Bioscience offers a fascinating glimpse into scientific culture and the social and political context in which that culture operates. Krautwurst nests the discussion of scientific culture within a series of levels from the lab to the global political economy. In the process he explores a number of topics, including: the social impact of technology; researchers' relationships with sophisticated equipment; what scientists actually do in a laboratory; what role science plays in the contemporary university; and the way bioscience interacts with local, regional, and global governments. The result is a rich case study that illustrates a host of contemporary issues in the social study of science.

This book explores the question of why fishing communities continue their struggle to survive, despite often calamitous changes in ecology and economy. Using historical ethnography as a lens through which to understand how fishers of the Bigouden region of France and their families have reinvented themselves, Menzies argues that local identity plays an important role in their perseverance as global capitalist pressures continually force them to reorganize or disappear entirely. Touching on many concepts that are fundamental to anthropology-culture, identity, kinship, work, political economy, and globalization-and filled with personal stories and warmth, this ethnography will be a welcome teaching tool for instructors and an enticing read for students.

Charting the rise and fall of an experimental biomedical facility at a North American university, Culturing Bioscience offers a fascinating glimpse into scientific culture and the social and political context in which that culture operates. Krautwurst nests the discussion of scientific culture within a series of levels from the lab to the global political economy. In the process he explores a number of topics, including: the social impact of technology; researchers' relationships with sophisticated equipment; what scientists actually do in a laboratory; what role science plays in the contemporary university; and the way bioscience interacts with local, regional, and global governments. The result is a rich case study that illustrates a host of contemporary issues in the social study of science.

In the remote highlands of the country of Georgia, a small group of mountaindwellers called the Khevsurs used to express sexuality and romance in ways that appear to be highly paradoxical. On the one hand, their practices were romantic, but could never lead to marriage. On the other hand, they were sexual, but didn't correspond to what North Americans, or most Georgians, would have called sex. These practices were well documented by early ethnographers before they disappeared completely by the midtwentieth century, and have become a Georgian obsession. In this fascinating book, Manning recreates the story of how these private, secretive practices became a matter of national interest, concern, and fantasy. Looking at personal expressions of love and the circulation of these narratives at the broader public level of the modern nation, Love Stories offers an ethnography of language and desire that doubles as an introduction to key linguistic genres and to the interplay of language and culture.

Asking what it means to be quilombola (descendants of African slaves) in the twenty-first century, Kenny illustrates how heritage and identity do not simply exist, but are continually being constructed to reflect particular historical circumstances. The book includes supplementary exercises that encourage readers to make connections between the case study at hand, their own heritage, and heritage-making efforts in other parts of the world.

Asking what it means to be quilombola (descendants of African slaves) in the twenty-first century, Kenny illustrates how heritage and identity do not simply exist, but are continually being constructed to reflect particular historical circumstances. The book includes supplementary exercises that encourage readers to make connections between the case study at hand, their own heritage, and heritage-making efforts in other parts of the world.

This book takes readers to the village of Sheltozero in northern Russia. It highlights a tiny community of indigenous people called Veps, known colloquially as "the forest folk" for their intense closeness and affiliation with the forests in their ancestral territories. Davidov uses a tour of the local museum to introduce a cast of human and non-human characters from traditional Vepsian culture, while journeying through various eras under Russian, Finnish, Soviet, and post-Soviet rule. In the process, she explores how contemporary political struggles mesh with traditional beliefs, illustrating how Veps make meaning of their history and unfolding future. A documentary entitled Museum Night is available for instructors who wish to incorporate it into their teaching.

From Water to Wine explores how Angola has changed since the end of its civil war in 2002. Its focus is on the middle class—defined as those with a house, a car, and an education—and their consumption, aspirations, and hopes for their families. It takes as its starting point "what is working in Angola?" rather than "what is going wrong?" and makes a deliberate, political choice to give attention to beauty and happiness in everyday life in a country that has had an unusually troubled history.Each chapter focuses on one of the five senses, with the introduction and conclusion provoking reflection on proprioception (or kinesthesia) and curiosity. Various media are employed—poetry, recipes, photos, comics, and other textual experiments—to engage readers and their senses. Written for a broad audience, this text is an excellent addition to the study of Africa, the lusophone world, international development, sensory ethnography, and ethnographic writing.

This unique comparative ethnography uses a systematic and nuanced approach to delve into the myriad meanings of "being fat" within and across different global sites.

The Living Inca Town presents a rich case study of tourism in Ollantaytambo, a rapidly developing destination in the southern Peruvian Andes and the starting point for many popular treks to Machu Picchu. Tourism is generally welcomed in Ollantaytambo, as it provides a steady stream of work for local businesses, particularly those run by women. However, the obvious material inequalities between locals and tourists affect many interactions and have contributed to conflict and aggression throughout the tourist zones. Based on a number of research visits over the course of fifteen years, The Living Inca Town examines the experiences and interactions of locals, visitors, and tourism brokers. The book makes room for unique perspectives and uses innovative visual methods, including photovoice images and pen and ink drawings, to represent different viewpoints of day-to-day tourist encounters. The Living Inca Town vividly illustrates how tourism can perpetuate gendered and global inequalities, while also exploring new avenues to challenge and renegotiate these roles.

From Water to Wine explores how Angola has changed since the end of its civil war in 2002. Its focus is on the middle class—defined as those with a house, a car, and an education—and their consumption, aspirations, and hopes for their families. It takes as its starting point "what is working in Angola?" rather than "what is going wrong?" and makes a deliberate, political choice to give attention to beauty and happiness in everyday life in a country that has had an unusually troubled history.Each chapter focuses on one of the five senses, with the introduction and conclusion provoking reflection on proprioception (or kinesthesia) and curiosity. Various media are employed—poetry, recipes, photos, comics, and other textual experiments—to engage readers and their senses. Written for a broad audience, this text is an excellent addition to the study of Africa, the lusophone world, international development, sensory ethnography, and ethnographic writing.

Traits that signal belonging dictate our daily routines, including how we eat, move, and connect to others. In recent years, "fat" has emerged as a shared anchor in defining who belongs and is valued versus who does not and is not. The stigma surrounding weight transcends many social, cultural, political, and economic divides. The concern over body image shapes not only how we see ourselves, but also how we talk, interact, and fit into our social networks, communities, and broader society.Fat in Four Cultures is a co-authored comparative ethnography that reveals the shared struggles and local distinctions of how people across the globe are coping with a bombardment of anti-fat messages. Highlighting important differences in how people experience "being fat," the cases in this book are based on fieldwork by five anthropologists working together simultaneously in four different sites across the globe: Japan, the United States, Paraguay, and Samoa.Through these cases, Fat in Four Cultures considers what insights can be gained through systematic, cross-cultural comparison. Written in an eye-opening and narrative-driven style, with clearly defined and consistently used key terms, this book effectively explores a series of fundamental questions about the present and future of fat and obesity.

The Living Inca Town presents a rich case study of tourism in Ollantaytambo, a rapidly developing destination in the southern Peruvian Andes and the starting point for many popular treks to Machu Picchu. Tourism is generally welcomed in Ollantaytambo, as it provides a steady stream of work for local businesses, particularly those run by women. However, the obvious material inequalities between locals and tourists affect many interactions and have contributed to conflict and aggression throughout the tourist zones. Based on a number of research visits over the course of fifteen years, The Living Inca Town examines the experiences and interactions of locals, visitors, and tourism brokers. The book makes room for unique perspectives and uses innovative visual methods, including photovoice images and pen and ink drawings, to represent different viewpoints of day-to-day tourist encounters. The Living Inca Town vividly illustrates how tourism can perpetuate gendered and global inequalities, while also exploring new avenues to challenge and renegotiate these roles.

Why did a rural dialect from the heart of Norwegian farm country win a national dialect popularity contest? What were the effects of this win, and what has happened to the winning dialect since?A Winning Dialect tells a story of linguistic and cultural transformation in the rural district of Valdres, Norway. It shows how lifelong residents have adapted to changing social, economic, and political circumstances – particularly the shift from family farming to tourism development – and how they have used local linguistic and cultural resources to craft a viable future for themselves and  the places their ancestors have called home for centuries. Once stigmatized as poor and uneducated, the distinctive dialect of Valdres now holds a special place as a valuable part of Norwegian national heritage, as well as a marker of local belonging. Based on two decades of research and fieldwork, A Winning Dialect considers how a traditional dialect is transformed – linguistically and culturally – as it is put to new uses in the contemporary world.

Why did a rural dialect from the heart of Norwegian farm country win a national dialect popularity contest? What were the effects of this win, and what has happened to the winning dialect since?A Winning Dialect tells a story of linguistic and cultural transformation in the rural district of Valdres, Norway. It shows how lifelong residents have adapted to changing social, economic, and political circumstances – particularly the shift from family farming to tourism development – and how they have used local linguistic and cultural resources to craft a viable future for themselves and  the places their ancestors have called home for centuries. Once stigmatized as poor and uneducated, the distinctive dialect of Valdres now holds a special place as a valuable part of Norwegian national heritage, as well as a marker of local belonging. Based on two decades of research and fieldwork, A Winning Dialect considers how a traditional dialect is transformed – linguistically and culturally – as it is put to new uses in the contemporary world.

In 2007, Canada became the third largest producer of diamonds in the world. Primarily mined on the edge of the Arctic, these diamonds are said to bring economic development and opportunity to nearby Indigenous communities. In Under Pressure, anthropologist Lindsay A. Bell examines the effects of diamond mining on an increasingly diverse northern population.Through an ethnographic focus on everyday life in Hay River, a multi-ethnic town in the Northwest Territories, this book illustrates the different ways Indigenous, settler, and immigrant northerners navigate the opportunities and obstacles created by large-scale resource development. By situating contemporary diamond mines within the long history of extraction in the region, Bell describes the social, cultural, and economic pressures that shape the people in this Northern community. In contrast to many polarizing accounts that deem mining as either good or bad, Under Pressure uses diamonds as an anthropological prism to consider larger issues related to Arctic extraction, globalization, Indigenous rights, and ethical consumption.

In 2007, Canada became the third largest producer of diamonds in the world. Primarily mined on the edge of the Arctic, these diamonds are said to bring economic development and opportunity to nearby Indigenous communities. In Under Pressure, anthropologist Lindsay A. Bell examines the effects of diamond mining on an increasingly diverse northern population.Through an ethnographic focus on everyday life in Hay River, a multi-ethnic town in the Northwest Territories, this book illustrates the different ways Indigenous, settler, and immigrant northerners navigate the opportunities and obstacles created by large-scale resource development. By situating contemporary diamond mines within the long history of extraction in the region, Bell describes the social, cultural, and economic pressures that shape the people in this Northern community. In contrast to many polarizing accounts that deem mining as either good or bad, Under Pressure uses diamonds as an anthropological prism to consider larger issues related to Arctic extraction, globalization, Indigenous rights, and ethical consumption.