Our transnational theory class has been a truly unique experience in every way I can imagine: not only are the students from all types of departments and backgrounds, but mixed-media assignments are constantly assigned and presented.  The class is taught by two professors from separate disciplines, and we read novels and scholarly articles and view films written by artists all around the globe.  To be sure, this is the most appropriate environment in which a transnational theory class could be taught.

The themes we have examined – from migrant points of view to non-binary gender identities and feminisms, from literary language to transnational cinematography – are diverse and yet all inter-related.  We live in a paradoxical world of growing homogenization alongside differential tension, and these issues are of critical importance.  With our newsfeeds, televisions, and radios filling up with headlines about racial discrimination and violence, gender gaps and inequality, immigration issues, and religious misunderstandings, time is of the essence to education oneself about the various cultures and the perspectives that accompany those cultures across all borders.

In Borderlands/La Frontera we saw issues like misogyny and territorial injustice.  These issues clearly persist today, and in concrete forms.  The most recent wave of feminism is currently in a battle with domestic violence and rape, which Anzaldúa references in some of her poetry; and the debate of immigration between Mexico and the US is far from over.  We saw some of these issues in Persepolis as well; the graphic novel takes place further from our home, which opens our eyes to issues in the Middle East, a place of utmost controversy in recent years.  We are witness to political corruption and violence in Bolaño’s Amulet, and though we may hope that the problems from 1968 have gone by the wayside, we are only reminded that these concerns, unfortunately, often resurface and can worsen.  Axolotl Roadkill demonstrates the decadence that can be found in the lives of wealthy adolescents in the twenty-first century.  After a year in which mental illness has been brought to the foreground in our culture, we can see here in Hegemann’s novel some of the roots and contributors to substance abuse and depression.

These are only a few examples of relevant literature from our semester, and they show us several very applicable and recurring themes that transcend national and linguistic borders.  This semester’s seminar has taught me that not only is literature a type of media that cannot be contained by boundaries, but that the linkages that it creates between peoples are essential for learning and surviving as a global community.

From this week’s readings, I have a better understanding of the term ‘transnational’ than I did before.  After ten weeks, we’ve struggled to pinpoint the denotation of the elusive term (especially compared to international, global, cosmopolitan, etc, like we discussed in our first weeks).  Grewal and Kanplan provided a handful of worthwhile uses of the term (664-665), but they were able to relay a particularly clear definition of the term in their article: “such usage relied on a universal subject of feminism, while transnational could signal cultural and national difference” (666).  This idea, to me, demonstrates the inability to use ‘transnational’ and ‘global’ as synonyms, because it emphasizes the difference between universal and particular conceptualizations.  Rather, ‘transnational’ finds itself safely between the two extremes.

The idea of transnational (rather than global/universal or local/particular) feminism is helpful for incorporating specific issues from different nations or cultures to create a strong, unifying activist force.  Ferree and Tripp delineate the history of modern feminism, particularly the conflicts and disagreements confronted between separate states.  For instance, when feminism is portrayed as a global issue, confusion arises.  This is because feminism is such a vague umbrella term under which so many diverse issues reside, that global agreement does not exist.  Cultural nuances in different areas of the world place greater importance on political representation than a woman’s right to her own body, for instance.  Recall Shu-Mei Shih’s article in Minor Transnationalisms, where she referenced a woman who “disagreed strongly with the assumptions of Western feminism […] and has since publicly repudiated Western feminism” (73).  Ferree and Tripp pointed out that this feeling is not uncommon among feminists outside of the United States, especially.  For instance, the global South has complained about the “limited and singular vision of feminism” presented by the North (61), and they have made strides to alter the transnational feminist lens to make these issues more relevant for them as well.

Ferree and Tripp reveal a spectrum of conceptualization from universal agreement regarding feminist issues across the globe, to particular cases based on state or culture.  Generally, global agreement exists regarding women’s suffrage and violence against women, as the article points out (56, 63).  However, some cultural practices, such as foot binding in China, bride wealth in Uganda, and genital cutting in Kenya and other parts of the world, are more specific and ambiguous (58).  While some could argue that cultural relativism must be accounted here, others proclaim the gendered injustice of these practices; “the global feminist is one who has free choice over her body and a complete and intact […], while the traditional female subject of patriarchy is forcibly altered, fragmented alienated from her innate sexuality, and deprived of choices or agency” (Grewal, Kaplan 669-70).

All in all, despite the wide spectrum regarding the scope of feminist (or anti-feminist) customs, transnational feminism stands apart from global or local feminism in that it is able to encapsulate and give credit to nuances between nation-states, without overgeneralizing goals in a manner that may be interpreted as a “subtle form of cultural imperialism” (Ferree, Tripp 61).

In the same way that Gloria Anzaldúa uses a mix of languages to give her readers a feeling of linguistic and contextual exclusion, Marjane Satrapi uses her medium of images as an inclusive means of communicating to any reader.  As we discussed last week in class, Borderlands/La Frontera in a way excludes readers who don’t speak either Spanish or English.  This linguistic setup reflects the main theme of the text, the portrayal of a rupture between cultures (and the formation of a hybrid culture within).

In a similar manner, Satrapi’s Persepolis creates a completely opposite atmosphere; it represents transnational discourse because she appeals to an over-inclusive audience through her own unique form.  By formatting her novel in the form of comics, she relates her story through two universal languages: imagery and humor.  The three-hundred plus pages of comic strips begins as the narrator (Satrapi herself) is a strong-willed child.  Any reader can relate to the humorous shenanigans that the young girl gets into as she grows up during a constantly-evolving period in history.  Satrapi’s objective in her graphic novel is to translate the experience of coming of age during the Islamic Revolution to her readers.  She manages to achieve this goal through the first-person narrative because the perspective of the child is so relatable.

Though the issues of the Islamic Revolution in the Middle East are distinctly unique and separate from most cultural phenomena in the West, Satrapi nonetheless makes the plot a universal concern by involving the readers as though they experience it themselves.  The novel was originally printed in French, but the actual text of the book is not what best conveys the story; even without being able to understand each written word, the reader would understand Persepolis because of Satrapi’s masterful use of universal communication.  Just like a viewer watching a foreign film will still gain a new perspective on issues abroad, readers of Persepolis can take away the terror, injustice, pride, patriotism, and even quotidian nuances of daily life in Iran during the Islamic Revolution.  The author’s means of communication is transnational in that is so comprehensible by any audience, that its language transcends national borders.

In his work, simply and directly titled “Transnationalism,” Steven Vertovec delineates and summarizes six major approaches to transnational studies: social morphology, type of consciousness, mode of cultural reproduction, avenue of capital, site of political engagement, and (re)construction of ‘place’ or locality (4).  Of course, transnational activity influences many facets of communities and cultures, such as their politics, economy, and cultural practices; therefore, the three corresponding approaches are valid and worthy of study.  Though each of these ‘takes’ (as he calls them) are legitimate and sensible, the notion that is most convincing to me is the mode of cultural reproduction approach.

Vertovec describes the mode of cultural reproduction as having a certain basic foundation: a “flow of cultural phenomena and the transformation of identity […] through global media and communications.”  Again, this recurring theme of media and movement reappears in this conceptualization of transnationalism.  This is important because of the manner in which whole cultures are becoming malleable as living, breathing entities.

Cultural phenomena can be as material and surface as music, television programs or movies, clothing, food, and so on.  However, phenomena such as roles, traditions, and practices often deeply embedded within a culture or community.  And despite the seeming immobility of these customs, transnational relationships and experiences cause transformation in both subtle and obvious ways.

Upon reading about the mode of cultural reproduction approach, I immediately thought of the American dream and how it has changed domestically, as well as how it has been adopted transnationally.  This idea comes from an article called “Salsa and Ketchup: Transnational Migrants Straddle Two Worlds” which examines cases of migrant groups in the United States (Levitt).  For instance, it is common to read about transnational migrants who work (often in the United States, they are paid well for their various skills), and send remittances home (8).  In fact, this practice is so common that “the relatively small amounts of money which migrants transfer as remittances to their places of origin now add up to at least $300 billion worldwide” (IFAD 2007, as referenced in Vertovec p.8).  However, all this economic activity is ultimately impacting culture.  In her article called “Salsa and Ketchup: Transnational Migrants Straddle Two Worlds”, Peggy Levitt demonstrates how remittance usage in the Dominican Republic that have influenced the local standard of living.  Upon receiving remittances from a transnational relative or friend, local citizens in Miraflores use the capital to rebuild homes, afford better education or healthcare, or even erect a baseball field for recreation (23).  Though the catalyst of these transformations stem from economic relationships, the final result of such interaction is impressive cultural change.

Levitt also mentions another change that has occurred as Dominican migrants return from their work abroad:  “many young women in Miraflores […] no longer want to marry men who have not migrated because they want husbands who will share the housework and take care of the children as the men who have been to the United States do” (24).  This is an excellent example of how transnationalism causes cultural expectations to transform, even abroad.  That is, although the actual transnational practice does not occur in the local culture – in this case, the Dominican Republic – (at least until the return of the migrants), the local culture does indeed experience quite a transformation.  The changing gender roles cause the Dominican culture, especially in regard to romantic relationships or marriage, to change as well.  This case that Levitt presents is not alone in its metamorphosis, though its specificity is unique.  Vertovec warns scholars to beware the false mutual exclusivity of terms such as transnationalism, assimilation, and multiculturalism (17).  The case of the Dominican Republic demonstrates a continuity of transnational trends, but insists upon its own uniqueness as its culture remains influenced, changed, yet inimitable.

Levitt, Peggy. “Salsa and Ketchup: Transnational Migrants Straddle Two Worlds.” Contexts 3.2 (2004): 20-26. Web.
Vertovec, Steven. Transnationalism. London: Routledge, 2009. Print.