Abstract
In the world of maritime lore and practice, tattoos were both commemorative and magical. Sailors frequently tattooed the words H-OL- D F-A-S-T onto the skin above each knuckle in the hopes of strengthening their grasp on the ship’s rigging. It gave sailors an edge at saving their own lives when the winds would howl and the ship tossed wildly on the waves, and they must hold fast or be thrown into the dark cold sea. This illustrated autoethnographic work will draw on the metaphor of the ship in transit, the slippery rigging, storied magic and the dangers of the chasm below, to interrogate the idea of the academy as literal and figurative home for transnational academics. In it, I will combine words and pictures to tell two stories of being. The piece concludes with problematizing the notion of “home” as a desirable construct in the context of the academy.
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