Placing Identity: Town, Land, and Authenticity in Nunavut, Canada

Recent demographic changes have made settlement patterns in the Canadian Arctic increasingly urban. Iqaluit, capital of Canada’s newest territory, Nunavut, is home to the largest concentration of Inuit and non-Inuit populations in the Canadian North. Despite these trends, Inuit cultural identity continues to rest heavily on the perception that to learn how to be authentically Inuit (or to be a better person), a person needs to spend time out on the land (and sea) hunting, fishing, trapping, and camping. Many Inuit also maintain a rather negative view of urban spaces in the Arctic, identifying them as places where Inuit values and practices have been eclipsed by Qallunaat (‘‘white people’’) ones. Some Inuit have even gone so far as to claim that a person is no longer able to be Inuit while living in towns like Iqaluit. This article examines those aspects of Canadian Inuit identity, culture, and tradition that disfavor the acceptance of an urban cultural identity. Based on ethnographic research conducted on Baffin Island in the mid 1990s and early 2000s, the many ways Iqaluit and outpost camp Inuit express the differences and similarities between living on the land and living in town are described. Then follows an examination of how the contrast of land and town is used in the rhetoric of Inuit politicians and leaders. Finally, a series of counterexamples are presented that favor the creation of an authentic urban Inuit identity in the Arctic, including recent attempts on the part of the Nunavut Territorial Government to make education and wage employment in the region more reliant on Inuit Qaujimajatuqangit, or Inuit traditional knowledge.1

Scott Joplin: Treemonisha

Scott Joplin’s (1867–1917) opera Treemonisha is the only opera in existence about the Reconstruction era African-American experience written by a black man who actually lived through it. This fact alone makes the opera a work of tremendous significance. Further, Joplin’s music is profoundly expressive and as stylistically unique as anything ever created in America. Through his score and libretto, Joplin vividly documented a culture that has left us few other artifacts: The echoes of the “field hollers,” spirituals, fiddle tunes, revival hymns, and ancient African dances of his rural childhood are all heard, along with the dialects of his people rising up from slavery. Yet for all of its obvious significance, Treemonisha has been a deeply misunderstood work. The opera was complex and virtually unprecedented, two reasons why 1910s America could not embrace it. And tragically, Joplin's original 1911 materials for the opera were almost entirely destroyed in the early 1960s. In the early 1970s several attempts were made to reconstruct it, but for the most part these were not concerned with the opera’s cultural origins or historic authenticity. But now, on the centennial of this extraordinary creation, comes this new recording of a completely authentic reconstruction of Treemonisha by Rick Benjamin, based on eighteen years of research.

Can Developing Women Create Primitive Art? and Other Questions of Value, Meaning and Identity in the Circulation of Janakpur Art

In this article, I examine the values and meanings that adhere to objects made by Maithil women at a development project in Janakpur, Nepal – objects collectors have called ‘Janakpur Art’. I seek to explain how and why changes in pictorial content in Janakpur Art – shifts that took place over a period of five or six years in the 1990s – occurred, and what such a change might indicate about the link between Maithil women’s lives, development, and tourism. As I will demonstrate, part of the appeal for consumers of Janakpur Art has been that it is produced at a ‘women’s development project’ seeking to empower its participants. And yet, the project’s very successes threaten to displace the producers (and what they produce) from their perceived qualities/identities as ‘traditional’ and ‘primitive,’ thereby bringing into question the authenticity of the ‘art’ they produce. The conundrum begs this question: can developing women produce primitive art?

Toward a Global Organic Culture: Ethnographic Perspectives on Wwoofing Practices in Peru and New Zealand

In this thesis, I explore the meaning behind sustainable living among organic farmers and their families in two countries. It is based on original, ethnographic research that I conducted in New Zealand in fall 2012 and Peru in summer 2012 with support from the Department of Sociology and Anthropology Meerwarth Undergraduate Research Fund. In carrying out my research I relied on participant-observation, semi-structured interviews, focus groups, and writing ethnographic fieldnotes. Drawing on contemporary scholarship in the anthropology of food and the environment, my thesis contributes to cross-culturally understandings of sustainability and local and global foodways. Specifically, I will interpret the meaning and significance of my informants’ decision to live sustainably through their participation in wwoofing. The global network of wwoofing aims to connect volunteers interested in learning about organic farming techniques with farmers looking for labor assistance. Volunteers exchange work for food, accommodation, knowledge, and experience. As a method of farming and a subjective ideological orientation, this global movement allows travelers from all over the world to experience organic lifestyles worldwide. In my thesis, I connect my experiences of organic living in Peru and New Zealand. In comparing wwoofing practices in these two field sites, I argue that despite observable differences in organic practices, a global organic culture is emerging. Here I highlight some shared features of this global organic culture, such as food authenticity, sustainability of the earth, and a personal connection of individuals to the land. The global organic culture emphasizes a conscious awareness of what is going into one’s body and why. Using food as an expression of values and beliefs, organic farmers reconnect to the land and their food in attempts to construct an alternative identity. By focusing on food authenticity, my informants develop vast relationships with the land, which shapes their identity and creates new forms of self-enhancement.