We asked our first year Assistant Instructors how their first month of teaching has gone so far. Check out Stephanie Childress’ response!

Stephanie Childress (she/her) is a third year PhD student in American Studies. She is currently teaching a course titled “Archives and Activism: Digital Recovery | Texas Memory;” we asked her how her course is going so far & how her course embodies American Studies at UT. This is her response.

This course explores methods for digital recovery of historical memory through the regional lens of Texas. As a project-based collaborative research course, we engage alternative archives for telling under-told histories and discussing current and historical social movements - people, protests, uprisings, riots, and activism. Alternate archives include community/family memory, “rogue archives,” data archives, “reading against the (institutional) grain,” and more. Student’s final digital projects are built in collaborative teams. Some teams have already identified their projects - one is creating an interactive online experience that allows the user to learn about queer histories in Austin. Another is working on labor organizing efforts in Texas. The other two groups will be developing topics in environmental and criminal justice.

I am teaching research through the “design process,” which is a procedural model from Engineering. My hope is that my students leave the course with not only a conceptual and methodological approach to digital recovery work but that they know how to take action on issues of social or global importance. While we know that research and social change do not happen in neatly defined steps, this process gives them the building blocks to guide them as they learn. When they leave the course, they can replicate these steps to act in moments and with movements that call to them.

One of my favorite moments of the course was during a guided primary source analysis on the labor organizing efforts of Cesar Chavez at the Benson. One student commented about the carefully organized efforts of the labor organizers. The repetition of “organized” here is intentional and contrasts a discussion we started in our first week about witnessing many social movements fizzle after attending one protest or sharing an Instagram slide. Our discussions, activities, guest speakers, and the project design process aims to teach students that there is no absolute finality to activism or recovery work. It is a cycle that is constantly asking us - what’s next?

The class is “classic American Studies” in that I am asking students to investigate current social issues, retrace the “border crossings” of the United States imperial project, learn approaches to avoid recolonization, and look to a future of restoration and healing. The course also draws from other disciplines like public & digital humanities. What I am learning is that the class is not interdisciplinary because I have mixed methods as an instructor and scholar, it is interdisciplinary because of what my students bring to class from their disciplinary training. I have students from Computer Science, Natural Science, Data Science, Communications, Business, Government, History, Psychology, Economics, and American Studies who each bring a unique perspective and a way they approach the course. Developing and teaching this course has been a great experience!

UT AMS ALUMNI SPOTLIGHT OF THE WEEK!

Dr. Gavin Benke

A little update on what Gavin is up to post AMS at UT: “I'm a senior lecturer in the College of Arts and Sciences Writing Program at Boston University. I've also served as a steward for BU's non-TT faculty union (and am generally an active union member). In terms of research/writing: In 2018, I published a book based on my dissertation. This winter, I have a history of capitalism supplemental textbook coming out. Otherwise, I've been doing the usual book reviews, op-eds, articles, etc. (and I was on Vice TV talking about Enron last fall). Overall, Boston is great and things are going well. Now that the pandemic is subsiding a little bit here, I'm easing my way back into playing and jazz jams, which has been really nice.”

Check out Risk and Ruin Enron and the Culture of American Capitalism here.

Check out Capitalism and Individualism in America here.

Join us in celebrating Dr. Erin McElroy's latest publication “Digital Cartographies of Displacement: Data as Property and Property as Data” in ACME: An International Journal for Critical Geographies!

To read Digital Cartographies of Displacement: Data as Property and Property as Data, click here.

Join us in celebrating the wonderful Dr. Zoya Brumberg-Kraus' recent podcast feature titled “Subjective Conditions”

About the podcast episode from the podcast website:

'“Ep. 2 - You, Me, and Politics Makes Three

The material conditions are RIGHT HERE IN THE ROOM, COMRADES.

Comrade Adam is joined by two excellent and Galaxy-Brained™ comrades, Zoya and Jeff, who also happen to be D O C T O R S and professors, to discuss some key questions for anyone on the Left today. What are politics? Institutions - how do they work? What does the academy and the activist space have in common? What is the GREEN FROG in the room? How do we confront the terror of the unknown?

This the first of a two-part series looking at the relationship between social change, utopian projects, community, the built environment, and community.”

Listen here.

We asked our first year Assistant Instructors how their first month of teaching has gone so far. Check out Kristen Wilson’s response!

Kristen Wilson (she/her) is a PhD student in American Studies. She is currently teaching a class titled “The American Body;” we asked her how her course is going so far & how her course embodies American Studies at UT. This is her response.

“This course explores how conceptions of the “ideal” American body have historically shaped and motivated claims of belonging and otherness. We examine the relationship of sport to this “ideal” American body and how sport has often helped to define who and what an “American” is.

The first month of teaching this course has been wonderful! There's definitely been a learning curve, for me even moreso than the students, but we've already dug into some incredible moments in American history--bicycles and first wave feminism, indigenous stickball and indigenous resistance to white colonization, daredevilism and the birth of the white working class during early industrialization. I'm excited for all that's ahead!

This class embodies American Studies because it uses a cultural phenomenon (sports!) to help us make sense of political, economic, and social developments in American history from a bottom-up perspective; aka, how does the average American experience sport and what does it tell us about how the country is changing?”

5 Questions with First Years—Levina Parada!

We’re excited to kick off another year of our “Five Questions” series. This year, we’ll be featuring both first- and second-year students here at UT AMS. We look forward to sharing our amazing graduate students with you. Read on to learn more about Levina Parada!

Q: What is your background, academic or otherwise, and how does it motivate your research?

A: I am from California where agriculture and the dairy industry shape the economy, the land, and the relationships of exploitative labor. I grew up with a large, blended yet fissured family and we would have tamales and pasteles during winter time. My experience as an elementary school gardener has influenced my interest in food justice, anti-racist work, and community support that challenges ableism and fatphobia. My previous experiences as an undergraduate student exposed me to feminist critiques of militarization, feminist animal studies, queer theory, Indigenous studies, and sustainability studies, which have informed my current trajectory.

Q: Why did you decide to come to AMS at UT for your graduate work?

A: American studies is a unique field. Because I have various interests, I knew I did not want to be limited in methodology or scope of research. UT Austin has a profound history of American Studies and the many frameworks for “doing” American Studies have provided ways for scholars to pursue critical questions in a transgressive way. I was also drawn to the program because the Department of American Studies is a close-knit and supportive scholarly community.

Q: What projects or people have inspired your work?

A: My interests are inspired by community work such as mutual aid and organized protests, the legacy of the Black Panther Party, the Critical Refugee Studies Collective, my previous professors and TAs, the complexities of my friends and family, and projects around food involving: appropriation, erasure, and commodification, the work of community gardens, and explorations of citizenship. I’ve also been inspired by the people and movements that I've only read or or heard about, people who have challenged oppression and violence from generations before me, whose work has paved the way for me to enjoy the privileges I have today.

Q: What projects do you see yourself working on at UT?

A: At the moment, I can see myself pursuing work around critical food studies- which is a very vague answer. That is not to say I have a lackluster perspective about my pursuits; I am still honing in on my specific areas of study with the understanding that project interests may take different forms or change altogether.

Q: What are your goals for graduate school? What do you see yourself doing after you graduate?

A: Over the next several years of graduate school, I would like to form relationships and community with people inside and outside the setting of academia and provide support and mentorship to my peers. I’d also like to be involved in various campus and community activities with an established awareness of my capacity. I am excited because being a graduate student will carve out the little path I need- sometimes winding, bumpy, curving, or U-turning- to pursue my career goals of professorship and also conduct research that is published in an accessible and serviceable way.

We asked our first year Assistant Instructors how their first month of teaching has gone so far. Check out Taylor Johnson Karahan’s response!

Taylor Johnson Karahan (they/she) is currently a PhD candidate in American Studies. We asked them to share their course title, and to describe their course to us and how it embodies American Studies. Additionally we asked how their first month of teaching is going so far and this is what they had to say!

Course name: Unburied: Ancestral Remains

About: This course is about the ways that collections of ancestral remains and burial grounds, both acknowledged and unacknowledged, demonstrate how the past continuously ruptures the present. Through the lens of the dead, we interrogate how history produces narratives and silences about the people who lived and died before us and how they figure into the stories we tell about ourselves.

Short answer: The first month of teaching has been both exhilarating and exhausting! I have found myself spending twenty hours preparing for class each week, mostly because I enjoy it so much and like drawing connections between different sources and ideas. I have also found that leading students in discussion about the course materials takes a lot energy! I've instituted a regular post-class rest and recovery time. My course embodies AMS at UT because we are using a distinct frame of reference that we encounter in our everyday lives - burials, mourning, memory - in order to interpret the significance given to "our" history. Using unburied ancestral remains, we are thinking about the construction of national narratives about slavery, settler-colonialism, Indian boarding schools, Jim Crow, convict leasing, citizenship, and ideas of national belonging. We are learning about the origins and development of race science, disciplines like anthropology and medical anatomy, and national standards for how we collectively deal with death. In this quintessential American Studies course, students are seeing connections between systems of domination, understanding how power influences the narratives that are told and taught, and recognizing themselves and their ancestors as agents of history.

New Mural by artist Luis Angulo, aka ULOANG

As a small note of thanks for creating an amazing new mural in our department, we want to celebrate the talented artist who took on this challenging commission: Luis Angulo, who is known as ULOANG. He was born in Caracas, Venezuela, and has been an Austin resident for thirteen years. He told us a little bit about his creative goals: “Murals are a fantastic way to create art that can be enjoyed by anyone and everyone. It doesn't have to hang in a gallery, you don't have to go to an art opening to enjoy it. It is out there for all to see.” More about the artist HERE, also be sure to follow him on Instagram for some more dope art!

Women and the Prison System

Madison was a student in AMS311s Prison Art, Literature, and Protest this summer! This research comes from her final project.

Part 1: An Outside Look at Women and the Prison System

Carceral feminism is the idea that “increasing policing, prosecution, and imprisonment” is the solution to reducing violence against women. Some examples of the implementation of carceral feminism into US law include the Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) and The Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity and Reconciliation Act. VAWA was a federal law signed by Bill Clinton in 1994, which attempted to reduce domestic violence by increasing police responsiveness to domestic violence calls and increasing sentencing for abusers. However, not long after, Clinton passed the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity and Reconciliation Act in 1996, which reformed VAWA. This reform placed a five-year limit on welfare, required recipients to work after two years, and placed a lifetime ban on welfare for anyone who was convicted of a drug felony, violated probation, or violated parole (whether the convictions were valid). As a result, many, especially women of color, were ineligible for welfare, and had no means of escaping their abusive relationships, making VAWA otherwise useless and ineffective at fulfilling its intended purpose. (Law 2014)

Aside from the reform, there are many other issues with carceral feminism. To begin with, it fails to acknowledge that police are often instigators of violence. An example of this is the case of Cherie Williams. She was a 35-year-old African American woman who attempted to call the cops to report domestic violence. However, instead of responding to the call and arresting the abuser, the officers arrested and committed violence against her, even threatening to harm her in the future. In addition, carceral feminism fails to acknowledge the ineffectiveness of the criminal justice system. Many victims who take their cases to court are often dismissed, invalidated, or blamed. The criminal justice system is controlled by men, and thus controlled by misogyny and ignorance of the needs and struggles of women. Additionally, carceral feminism fails to take into account the role of race, gender identity, immigration status, and social and economic inequities.  As stated by Law, “Women marginalized by their identities, such as queers, immigrants, women of color, trans women, or even women who are perceived as loud or aggressive, often do not fit preconceived notions of abuse victims and are thus arrested.” (Law 2014)

Moreover, even if officers respond to the calls properly, incarceration rates of abusers are very low, with only 5 out of 1000 reported cases leading to incarceration. (Fulcher-Melendy 2021) Despite there being a great push to persuade women to report rapes to the police, the majority of rapes and sexual assaults go unreported because contrary to the beliefs proposed by carceral feminism, most victims do not want the incarceration of their assailant; they just want the violence to end.

For those in favor of carceral feminism, some questions to ask are: “Is incarceration justice for a sexual assaulter/domestic abuser/rapist? Do they learn, reflect, or feel guilty for what they’ve done? Does it provide closure for the victim? Does it help the victim heal?” As stated frankly by Fulcher-Melendy, “Prisons themselves are incapable of changing rapists.” (2011, pp. 11) In fact, rather than encouraging assailants to reflect on their violent actions, and seek to reform themselves, “male sex roles, violence, and power relations which lead to rape in the first place, are strongly reinforced within prison.” (Fulcher-Melendy, 2011, pp.11) In other words, carceral feminism is ineffective. And even worse, it diverts attention and resources away from real solutions. This includes programs that assist survivors in escaping abusive relationships by providing shelter, public housing, and welfare, community interventions, and long-term organizing. (Law 2014) These alternative solutions will be discussed later  in Part 3 of this paper.

Part 2: An Inside Look of Women and the Prison System

Carceral feminism fails to effectively protect and support victims of domestic violence, and as a consequence, many women have been incarcerated for acts that were a means for their, and often their children’s, protection and survival. An example is the case of Marissa Alexander, a mother in Florida, who was routinely abused by her husband. During one incident, she fired a warning shot to protect herself from her husband. Instead of the police arresting the husband on accounts of domestic abuse, or providing Alexander with the resources she needed to leave her husband and find a safe place, she was arrested and prosecuted for aggravated assault. Alexander is not the only victim “forced to endure additional assault by the legal system.” In 2013, 67% of women sent to prison in the state of New York for murder were abused by that person; 93% in California. And in the past decades, the number of incarcerated women has continued to increase. (Law 2014)

Both within the legal system and inside the prison themselves, women are subject to a double standard. As stated by Davis, “There has always been a tendency to regard those women who have been publicly punished by the state for their misbehaviors as significantly more aberrant and far more threatening to society than their numerous male counterparts.” (Davis, 2011, pp. 66) As a result, women often receive longer sentences, with the justification that while men are there for punishment, women are there to be “reformed and retrained, a process that…required time.” (Davis, 2011, pp. 72) Additionally, longer sentences for women were supported by the belief that “genetically inferior” women needed to be “removed from society for as many of their childbearing years as possible.” In addition to longer sentences, while men are treated as criminals, women are treated as insane. As a result, a significantly greater proportion of women are sent to psychiatric institutions and prescribed psychiatric drugs.

Despite this view that incarcerated women are more threatening, the struggles of incarcerated women are often overlooked, as they only constitute a minor proportion of the incarcerated population. WIthin the prison itself, there are no arrangements made to accommodate sentenced women, their needs often neglected. In Davis’ book, Are Prisons Obsolete?, she cited an excerpt from Shakur’s autobiography that accurately describes the treatment of incarcerated women:

“‘...confined in a men’s prison, under twenty-four surveillance of her most intimate functions, without intellectual sustenance, adequate medical attention, and exercise, and without the company of other women…” (2011, pp.62)

Furthermore, some would think that incarceration meant safety for these women. Salvation from the abuse and violence they experienced in their day to day lives from their partners. On the contrary, those who “escape” domestic violence by incarceration, only become greater victims to state violence. Prisoners’ daily lives consist of routine strip searches and “internal examination of body cavities”. Pat-frisk or room searches where they are groped or touched inappropriately. Sexual violence, rape, verbal degradation, and harassment. Those with authority abuse their power and try to lure female prisoners to engage in sex by offering or denying goods. Those who refuse or attempt to oppose authority are threatened with force, violence, and sometimes even solitary confinement, until they concede. As described by the 1996 Human Rights Watch report, “...prison is a space in which the threat of sexualized violence that looms in the larger society is effectively sanctioned as a routine aspect of the landscape of punishment behind prison walls.” (Davis, 2011, pp.78) Similarly, in LeFlouria’s book Chained in Silence, she describes the prison environment as “...incessantly tormented by physical violence and rape” with “sexual predators that sometimes invaded the women’s quarters.” (2015, pp. 38-39)

Despite the horrid treatment and violation of women’s bodies and rights, those guilty of committing these actions rarely show remorse. Some justified their actions by stating that “women prisoners had rare opportunities for ‘male contact’” and therefore “welcomed” these actions. Others believed they could continue because they would not be held accountable or face any consequences. And some were not even aware of the wrong in their actions until a group of women reenacted the strip search that is so commonly performed on women in prisons. Many of the prison guards in the audience denied what they saw before them, in shock that that was how their actions were perceived. That’s when the reality hit that “without the uniform, without the power of the state [the strip search] would be sexual assault.” (Davis, 2011, pp. 83)

The mistreatment of women is magnified for women of color, especially Black women. In the past, Black women were often segregated from White women, disproportionately sentenced to men’s prisons, and received forms of punishment that overlooked their gender. In addition to this, they are deprived of proper medical treatment and overall care for their well being. A great illustration of this occurrence is  described in Shakur’s autobiography. In it, she describes how her doctor refused to confirm her pregnancy, instead advocating that she had an “intestinal disorder”. Later, when she was having complications with her pregnancy, he insisted she receive an abortion saying “it will be better for you and for everyone else.’” (Shakur, 2016, pp. 126) This mistreatment wasn’t limited to the prison doctor, but included everyone in the prison system. Many attempted to prevent Dr. Garrett, a proper doctor who cared for Shakur’s well-being, from treating her. In some other incidents, she was left “anemic and malnourished” and “left in a room for three days with a woman who turned out later to have active tuberculosis.” (Shakur, 2016, pp. 141-142)

Not only were Black women, like Shakur, deprived of proper medical treatment, but they were also victims of racial violence. They were disproportionately subject to be kept in solitary confinement and psych wards. If they refused orders, they were jumped and beaten. This racial violence was evident in these depictions made by Shakur, describing her experience during pregnancy:

“...a million police cars buzzing around the vehicle in which I, a woman in labor, was riding.”

“They put me in an ambulance, chained me to a stretcher, and brought me back to the Women’s House of Detention at Rikers Island.” pg 144

“My mental stability was also threatened by the round-the-clock guards who sat outside my hospital room with shotguns trained at my head.” pg 141

(2015, pp.141-144)

The worst and most prominent form of this violence was sexual violence. The sexual violence that was commonly experienced by female prisoners was heightened for women of color, as preexisting images of hypersexuality and promiscuity in these women “justified” many of the sexual assaults committed against them. (Davis, 2011, pp. 80) Much of the sentiment that existed during slavery carried over to the prison system, with many guards believeing that they “owned” the right of sexual access to Black women. As a result, many were exempt from legal punishment for raping Black women prisoners. (LeFlouria, 2015, pp. 40-41)

Part 3: Consequences and Alternative Solutions

One of the largest consequences of the prison system is the toll it takes on women’s physical, mental, and emotional health, with the largest contributing factor being the sexual violence they experienced daily. During their time in the prison, and even when they leave, many women experience anxiety, fear, and depression. Some experience insomnia or hypersomnia, PTSD, social withdrawal, low self-esteem, and feelings of guilt and worthlessness. Many develop sexual dysfunction or avoid sexual intercourse due to loss of sexual satisfaction. This sometimes even manifested into avoiding marriage or intimacy with another person all together. (LeFlouria, 2015, pp. 42-43)

As discussed in Part 1, carceral feminism is essentially ineffective at protecting women from sexual violence, or connecting them to the resources needed to support their escape from it. So, what can be done instead of relying on carceral feminism and reporting abusers to the criminal justice system?

One alternative largely advocated by the writers in the Letter to the Anti-Rape Movement is the confrontation of the assailant. What this entails is holding the assailant accountable for their actions and making them responsible for making a change. This is especially important because in the majority of rape and sexual assault cases, victims often blame themselves for what happened. This may have been because of manipulation from the assailant or ideas upheld in society. Thus, it is important that they hold the assailant responsible for their actions and not themselves. In addition, this may be more effective than reporting the assailant. As stated in the letter, by using the criminal justice system, a woman takes on a passive role, where decisions are made for her. By confronting her assailant, she has the power and autonomy to receive the closure and healing she needs. (Fulcher-Melendy, 2021, pp. 12)

This idea of confronting the assailant is greatly demonstrated by “Goldflower’s Story”. This story speaks about a woman who was being routinely abused by her husband and father-in-law. Seeking help, she sought out the women’s association in her local village. She shared her sufferings with the women, and united they sought out her abusers. They tied them up and beat them up until they promised to reform themselves. Some did choose reform, others did not. However, those who chose to continue to abuse these women, were soon confronted again by the women’s association. (Sloan, 2005)

Although the above example is a bit extreme, it promotes the idea that when women build a reliable community, they can come together and challenge the existence of sexual violence. A modern example of this community is evident in the creation of the website Creative Interventions. Creative Interventions is a website that was designed by an anti-violence advocate, Mimi Kim, to offer tools and resources to the public to help address sexual violence. A notable feature of the website is the collection of peoples’s stories and experiences with sexual violence that fosters a community so others know they are not alone.

Closing Remarks

In summation, carceral feminism has many shortcomings that fail to provide women the support and protection they need from domestic violence. A consequence of this failure is the incarceration of many women who were simply trying to escape this violence. As a result, they then become trapped in the prison system, where domestic violence is replaced by state violence. The effect of both forms of violence take a large toll on women’s physical, mental, and emotional health. There are many alternative solutions to dealing with sexual violence  and recovering from its effects. This includes confronting the assailant, rather than reporting them, and developing and relying on a community of women to both confront the problem and heal from it.

Sources:

Davis, A. Y. (2011). How Gender Structure the Prison System. Are prisons obsolete? (pp. 60-83) Seven Stories Press.

Davis, A., & Shakur, A. (2016). Assata: An autobiography. Zed Books.

Fulcher-Melendy, D., & Fulcher-Melendy, D. (2021, December 13). Open Letter to the Anti-Rape Movement. The Feminist Poetry Movement. Retrieved June 17, 2022, from https://sites.williams.edu/engl113-f18/fulcher-melendy/an-open-letter-to-the-anti-rape-movement/

Kim, M. (n.d.). Creative interventions. creative interventions. Retrieved June 17, 2022, from https://www.creative-interventions.org/

Law, V., Law, V., Oduor, J.-B., Nelson, S., Watt, F., Gill, T., Chomsky, N., Marcetic, B., Elrod, A., Shaw, D., Finn, D., Pagliarini, A., Sirota, D., Marx, P., Becker, J., Stetler, H., Jamie Allinson Asli Bali Allison McManus, Allinson, J., Bali, A., … Featherstone, L. (n.d.). Against Carceral Feminism. Jacobin. Retrieved June 17, 2022, from https://jacobin.com/2014/10/against-carceral-feminism/

Sloan, S. (2005, March 1). Socialist Revolution and Women's Liberation. Liberation News. Retrieved June 17, 2022, from https://www.liberationnews.org/05-03-01-socialist-revolution-womens-lib-html/

Prison Murals and Transgender Activism

Elizabeth Nguyen was a student in AMS311s

My painting takes place in a prison that incorporates the Arts-in-Corrections program, and the specific scene is the mural photography center. This is depicted by the 2 murals, a table with paint equipment, a camera, and the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) reference. The painting I produced relates to transgender activism and the art of the incarcerated. I created a painting because I was interested in applying my own interpretation of what a prison mural could look like. This form of art resonates with me because painting offers me an escape from reality which can be a helpful coping mechanism at times. Paintings can also embody a variety of different meanings which allows individuals to relate to the piece in their own personal way. In addition, viewing a painting can cause us to forget for a moment the background of the painter and appreciate their art. Viewing a painting or painting may provide the feeling of escape for the incarcerated by allowing them to feel and imagine the mural’s image as their current environment for some time.

In some prisons, the incarcerated individuals have the opportunity to create art, like painting wall murals. These murals are used as a photography backdrop for group and individual photos. The images cost approximately $2.00-$3.00 each. In addition, the prison photographer position is rotated amongst the incarcerated (Fleetwood 492). Some prison murals reference iconic landmarks however, the majority of the murals do not specify a location because the focus is on painting a place that has a light, is ungoverned, and has a few boundaries. It is also common to not see symbols that represent human life or a built environment. However, if these symbols are present, it’s typically depicted as a lighthouse or farmhouse. A reason for the vague mural paintings is to increase the difficulty of hiding gang signs (496-497). I incorporated a lighthouse in my painting to represent the built environment, a sunset to symbolize light, and a beach landscape to reflect a place with few borders.

A partnership between the CDCR and the California Arts Council led to the creation of the Arts-in-Corrections program which focuses on introducing the incarcerated to different forms of art such as painting, dancing, and music to inspire change and creativity and prevent recidivism. This program reduced institutional violence and improved self-discipline in the San Quentin State Prison (Linn). The Trans People Exist in the Future is a composition of selected visual images and poems from the Trans Day of Resilience art project (“Trans People Exist in the Future” 1). Butterflies were a common theme in 2 of the images (8, 24). A butterfly represents the transformation of a transgender individual. A caterpillar transitions into a butterfly and the individual transitions into a gender identity that differs from their sex at birth. In my painting, butterflies are escaping from an open mason jar which reflects an individual embracing their desired gender identity with the world.

There are prisons that are not in solidarity with and do not respect an incarcerated individual’s LGBTQ+ identity. This can cause the individual to live in a violent and mistreated living environment which can create a “painful void”(O’Donnell). There has also been an overwhelmingly large number of incarcerated transgender women being transferred into men's prisons or solitary confinement. Although the United Nations (UN) considers solitary confinement for more than 15 consecutive days as torture, many transgender individuals stay past this standard. These individuals even those without nonviolent offenses are often housed in solitary confinement for their own “protection”. In solitary confinement, they are deprived of accessing rehab, early release programs, warm living conditions, educational opportunities, and more (Ophelian). Therefore, it is important for incarcerated transgender individuals to understand that they are not alone in fighting for humane treatment and visibility. This can be achieved by conversing with the incarcerated individuals about shared experiences and offering support (O’Donnell). This act of showing support for the incarcerated, especially the transgender individuals, is present in the mural depicting Miss Major, with a backdrop of the transgender, and an inspiring quote. Miss Major is a trans woman activist and has been advocating for transgender women of color rights for more than 40 years. She is viewed as a mother, father, and grandparent by many and has been described as a safety net along with being a sage individual. She served as the first executive director of the Transgender Gender-Variant & Intersex Justice Project (TGIJP) which offers legal services for formerly or currently incarcerated transgender individuals (Ophelian). Miss Major was also incarcerated for four years. When Miss Major was asked about the advice she would share with the transgender individuals, she responded, “You have to keep the faith and keep going...” (Diavolo). The quote emphasizes perseverance and having it be said by a person who was formerly incarcerated and who still remains committed to helping the incarcerated transgender individuals makes the connection between her and the incarcerated more meaningful. Painting this specific mural was my way of conversing with and expressing my faith in the incarcerated transgender individuals.

Works Cited
Diavolo, Lucy. “Miss Major Griffin-Gracy Is Still Here and Wants Young Activists to

“Keep on Fighting”.” Teen Vogue, Condé Nast, 17 Jun. 2020, https://www.teenvogue.com/story/miss-major-griffin-gracy-still-here-young-activists-keep-fighting. Accessed 4 July 2022.

Fleetwood, Nicole R. “Posing in Prison: Family Photographs, Emotional Labor, and Carceral Intimacy.” Public Culture, vol 27, no. 3 (77), 1 Sept. 2015, pp. 487–511. https://doi.org/10.1215/08992363-2896195. Accessed 4 July 2022.

Linn, Sarah. “Arts-in-Corrections: California's Creative Response to a Broken Prison System.” KCET, Public Media Group of Southern California, 12 Aug. 2016, https://www.kcet.org/shows/artbound/arts-in-corrections-californias-creative-response-to-a-broke n-prison-system. Accessed 4 July 2022.

Major! Directed by Annalise Ophelian, performance by Miss Major Griffin Gracy, Floating Ophelia Productions, 2015. Accessed 4 July 2022.

O’Donnell, Kimberley. “The radical importance of writing letters to trans people in prison.” DAZED, 12 Feb. 2019, https://www.dazeddigital.com/life-culture/article/43209/1/trans-lgbtq-people-prison-writing-lette rs-volunteer-activism. Accessed 4 July 2022.

“Trans People Exist In The Future.” Trans Day of Resilience, Forward Together, Nov. 2020, tdor.co/art/trans-people-exist-in-the-future-zine. Accessed 4 July 2022.