One of the fundamental tenets of CCA is its struggle against academic opportunism and clientelism that are established in academic structures and the bureaucracies tied to these structures. The critiques offered by earlier CCA projects have continually drawn attention to the middle class elitism and clientelism of mainstream campaigns that continue to use the subaltern contexts as grounds for doing research, gathering data, and publishing papers, without really the commitment to actually listening or making a difference. This albeit is a theme that is continually articulated through CCA projects where communities discuss their marginalization and exploitation in the hands of researchers. It is precisely in this backdrop then that I find myself negotiating the lines of co-optive politics as the language of CCA is turning more toward fundable options. People that trashed ideas of community knowledge or community dialogue are all of a sudden interested in the conversation because there is money here. So how does one retain their skepticism and yet be authentically open to dialogue and learning within and with the dominant structures and the individuals that have historically enjoyed their privileged positions within these dominant structures that we critique.
The Haka, the Hurt, and the Work We Owe An Indian in Aotearoa reflects on resistance, complicity, and the solidarities we have yet to build Mohan Jyoti Dutta I watched the haka. I watched it several times, in fact. Each time, I tried to sit with what I was feeling before reaching for what I was supposed to think. Let me be honest about who I am in this conversation, because that matters. I am an upper caste, upwardly mobile Indian man. I am a professor at a university in Aotearoa. I carry the accumulated privileges of Brahminical socialisation, of English-medium education, of institutional access that was never designed for the communities I now write about and alongside. I say this not as confession but as orientation — because where you stand shapes what you see, and I have learned, through years of working with communities at the margins, that the refusal to name your own location is itself a colonial habit. The haka directed at Parmjeet Parmar did not offend me. It ...