In our advisee group meeting today (Zhuo Ban, Uttaran Dutta, Vicky Ortiz, and Shaunak Sastry, October 30, 2010), we discussed the idea of solidarity through reflexivity (see Dutta & Pal, 2010. As we participate in culture-centered processes of change, how do we articulate projects of solidarity that work toward change and are simultaneously critical of the dominant articulations of emancipation in global discourses of neoliberalism? How can we create avenues for discussing meaningful local participation in global scapes that celebrates the agency of local participation even as it works toward points of critique, both of processes of neoimperialism and the processes of local hierarchies that carry out the marginalization of the subaltern? Solidarity is at once a journey of friendship and a reflexive process that is critically aware of the locations of power one inhabits and the silences attached to these locations. This critical awareness by turning the lens on the self creates entry points then for respecting the other and for understanding the life struggles and communicative processes through which others participate in processes of creating change.
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 ...