In Maria Cotera’s discussion of storytelling in the Black
feminist tradition, she makes an excellent case for the sociological value of
narratives, fiction, and life histories. Cotera argues that in Black
storytelling traditions, life histories are a key form of meaning-making, a way
to produce knowledge from the margins. Because I hope to do life history
interviews with domestic violence victims in my own research, Cotera’s
insistence on the power of life narratives to access alternative knowledge and to expose structural conditions is
extremely useful. Cotera shows how an understanding of structural inequalities
and their intersections can be viewed through the life history narrative of just
one person – in this sense, rather than viewing life history narratives as
“micro”-level tools, we should see them as providing both “micro” and “macro”
perspectives. Indeed, Cotera’s analysis shows us that the micro/macro binary is
a fiction. On a practical level, I struggle with how to link my “micro” and “macro”
methods with my overall research interests; specifically, how will I sync
large-scale data about the anti-violence movement and medicalization with
women’s stories of their abuse? I think Cotera’s argument about the
sociological value of life histories gives me answer – the large-scale,
structural elements will always be visible through individuals’ “micro”
narratives. In this sense, I can use life histories to not only show the
conditions that have structured one person’s experience of violence, but also
to reveal how racism, classism, and sexism are operating directly on her life and
in the institutions that she relies on to help her.
Furthermore, Cotera points to the importance of attending to
intimacy in sociological analysis, which
is especially relevant to domestic violence. Cotera is interested in how
racism, sexism, and heteropatriarchy enter into intimate relationships and how
Black intimacy can provide a way to imagine liberation from those structures
(p.186). In the case of domestic violence, it is critical to remember that
women’s experiences of abuse are not just about violence and pain and fear, but
also about love and family. Intimacy should be of sociological import in these
life history narratives, not only for the way love/family structures women’s
experiences of violence, but also for the way intimacy reproduces or challenges
social structures (i.e. heteronormativity).
Because abuse and love are often connected in victims’
lives, it is also important, as Cotera instructs us, to pay attention to
contradictions. Life history narratives will inevitably be full of contradictions,
and it is important to explicate rather than smooth over those contradictions. Instead
of trying to build coherence out of people’s complex lives, we should use
stories as a way to enhance our own understandings of the contradictions that pervade
our social world. Using contradictions as a tool of analysis also points to
Cotera’s ideas about “borderlands feminism.” Contradictory politics is the
foundation of “borderlands feminism” because such feminisms always involve a
rejection of unitary, stable categories that fail to transgress established
boundaries. Contradictions (for example, between love and violence, loyalty and
fear) may help us build more responsive politics, politics that begin and end
with people’s lived realities rather than power-knowledge categories.
No comments:
Post a Comment