Abstract
AbstractCreated around, through and within discomfort, this piece weaves together the voices of five feminist scholars in an exploration of troubling affective and emotional experiences, offering material for critical theorizing and engaged scholarship. This inquiry started at a conference panel in July 2019. Taking on the invitation made by the editors ofFeminist Anthropologyfor the five of us to write in conversation, this piece also responds to April Petillo's piece in the first issue of this journal where she compelled us, feminist anthropologists, to listen through discomfort in order to challenge hierarchies of power and knowledge production. Through a polyphonic composition that draws on the different backgrounds, research and life trajectories of five feminist scholars through a collective online writing process, this piece purposefully plays with form, presenting reflections on naming relational discomforts, unsettling academic affects with our writing, violence, precarity and privilege, and how to work with discomfort through feminist solidarity.
Highlights
It was in July 2019, during the peak of the summer heat in Madrid, when the five authors of this article met to discuss the topic of discomfort
García-González et al Accepting the invitation made by April Petillo (2020) in the first issue of Feminist Anthropology, we aim to listen through discomfort and interrogate normative academic affects that shapes knowledge creation—what Petillo refers to as “vocal cues and cadences, language choices, physical stances, and measured emotional silences used to convey an unbiased observer stance” (2020, 15)
Our work embraces discomfort through the support we find in each other—a feminist praxis developed across screens, margin comments, connections, and cracks being made in worlds that sometimes appear immovable and impermeable
Summary
KR: I am surrounded by artists holding protest signs. Anger is almost a palpable feeling, as the speaker accuses Northern Ireland’s culture minister of taking money from the Arts Council budget to fund her own pet projects. Standing in front of me, a young man remarks bitterly to his companion, “Who designed the art on their building? Standing in front of me, a young man remarks bitterly to his companion, “Who designed the art on their building? Oh right, it was artists, wasn’t it? Who designed the whole fucking building? Oh right, it was artists, wasn’t it?”
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