Critiques of mass incarceration and its far-reaching effects have become a growing field of study in academia, drawing attention to the inequities and injustices created by prisons and the systems of white supremacy and patriarchy underlying the carceral logics of the prison. Prisons, as a form of social control, are not only to police and regulate individual bodies and spirits, but entire communities. While people of color are locked into systems of incarceration, their families (spouses, partners, parents, and children) are also caught up with the financial and emotional burdens of incarceration. This dissertation focuses on a population I call Mainline Mamas: Black women with relationship to prisons—through visitation or incarceration—while engaging with family, children, partners, and other women. Drawing on autoethnography and interviews with seven women who have navigated prisons as visitors, and some as incarcerated persons, this dissertation, therefore, interrogates how Black women are forced into a relationship with prisons, through incarceration and/or visitation, define, practice, and experience mothering. Our stories show how Mainline Mamas form communities as they navigate the entrenched hierarchies of the prison industrial complex. Mainline Mama, as a population, practice, and theory, is therefore a reimagining of possibility from the margins; a particular form of precarity that also searches for joy, family, and connection in the midst of a carceral state violence.

This paper reflects on the processes and outcomes of a multimedia storytelling project on undocumented, queer individuals in Phoenix. It weaves these stories into theories of intersectionality and social movements to give them context. Extensive research has been done on the separate experiences of undocumented immigration and queerness, but little research can as of yet be found on the intersection of both. Participants in this project stand at this intersection, and their stories demonstrate how the UndocuQueer experience brings unique challenges, and thus cannot be solely constructed by existing groups and norms. The web-based project can be found at: http://undoqmented.businesscatalyst.com/

With the push towards interdisciplinary approaches, there has been tremendous growth of scholarship in the comparative ethnic studies field. From studies on multiracial people, to residential segregation, to the study of multiracial spaces, there is a lot to say about cross-cultural experiences. “Te de Boba” explores the relationship between identity, race, and ethnicity of millennials through a food studies lens. In particular, I analyze the role of food spaces and food pathways in developing identity and conceptions of race and ethnicity. My research site consists of a small business, a boba tea shop in Baldwin Park, California: What happens when a boba shop opens up in downtown Baldwin Park, a predominantly Latinx community? How do interethnic relationships shape the structure and city landscape of Baldwin Park, and how do these experiences in turn shape self-identity among millennials? I draw from qualitative interviews, cognitive mapping, and surveys conducted within the boba shop to understand millennial identity formation in Baldwin Park. Millennials growing up in Baldwin Park experience unique relationships between cultures, foods, and lifestyles that cross ethnic and racial barriers, creating new forms of community, which I call hub cities. I develop “hub cities” as new terminology for discussing suburban spaces that foster a sense of community within suburban areas that challenges and break down popular discourse of race and ethnicity, giving way for youth creation of alternative discourses on race and ethnicity, consequently shaping the way they form self-identity.

Since the early 1980s spoken word has been on the rise as a highly influential performance art form. Concurrently, there has been an increase in literature on spoken word, which tends to focus on the critical performative and transformative potential of spoken word. These on-going discussions surrounding youth spoken word often fail to take into account the dynamic, relational, and transitional nature of power that constructs space and subjectivity in spoken word. This ethnographic study of one youth spoken word organization – Poetic Shift – in a southwestern urban area makes a conscious attempt to provide a nuanced, contradictory and partial analysis of space, place, and power in relation to youth spoken word and aspires to generate an understanding of how spaces designated for spoken word are dialectically (re)produced and maintain or subvert dominant relations of power through a constant stream of negotiations. This study aims to more explicitly examine the relationship between place and spoken word in effort to understand how one’s positionality impacts, and is impacted by, their involvement in youth spoken word.

Over the course of a 6-month period participant observation was conducted at two high school spoken word workshops and four interviews were completed with both teaching artists and young adult spoken word poets. Using spatial and critical pedagogy frameworks, this study found that Poetic Shift serves as a platform for youth to engage in the performative process of narratively constructing and reconfiguring their identities. Poetic Shift’s ideological position that attributes value and validation to the voices and lived experiences of each youth is an explicit rejection of the dominant paradigm of knowing that relegates some voices to a culture of silence. The point at which the present study deviated from most other literature on spoken word is where it offers a critique of Poetic Shift as a site of critical literacy and of the unreflexive rhetoric of student empowerment. The problematic presuppositions within the call for youth voice and in the linear, overly simplistic curriculum of Poetic Shift tend to reinforce the dominant relations of power.

In the United States, responsibility for public safety falls under the purview of federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies. These agencies use a range of strategies to ensure public safety, relying primarily on surveillance, the police, the jail and prison system, and the courts to adjudicate wrongdoing. The United States’ over-reliance on incarceration as an all-encompassing solution to social problems, paired with persistent police violence that disproportionately results in the death of Indigenous, African American, and Latino/a people, has placed these public safety practices under intense scrutiny. There has been a plethora of research examining the crisis of mass incarceration in particular, and the racial, class, and gendered inequities plaguing the criminal justice system more broadly.

Through the (Re)imagining Public Safety Project, I make two primary interventions in this larger body of work. First, this is an abolitionist project. In other words, I ask how people generate safety in their daily lives without relying on the police, or prisons, or criminalization. Second, in developing these alternatives, I center the perspective of people of color who have been directly impacted by racially discriminatory public safety practices. To do so, I designed a collaborative, mixed-method qualitative research project that uses participant-generated photo elicitation interviews, alongside participant observation to (re)imagine public safety. Participants in this project theorized what I am calling “insurgent safety” to describe an alternative practice of safety that is underwritten by what I term “a public ethic of care,” “counter-carceral communication,” and play. Insurgent safety is the presence of self-determination, interdependence, mutual aid, shared vulnerability, joy, and communion rather than walls, cages, and banishment.

The intention of this research is to bring us to Worcester, Massachusetts, New England's second largest city, to critically investigate the punitive patterns that exist in the "second chance" opportunity structure experienced by young people who have been dropped-out of schools. The conceptual framework I've constructed pulls from developed theories on the relationship between structural processes, institutional practices and lived experiences of marginalization. There is a need to understand how the process of school leaving, the label of "dropout," and the pursuit of second-chance opportunity are connected and exercise forms of punishment that have clear messages about the worth of these young men's aspirations and the value in fostering support for their opportunities. This critical ethnography introduces the narratives of four young men, marginalized by race and class, whose pursuits of alternative education pathways in Worcester, MA lead them towards constructing an inclusive opportunity on one's own terms. My assertion here is that the social issue is not exclusively about "dropouts," but about the relationships our schools, neighborhoods and society at large have on creating the enabling conditions of opportunity for our most marginalized students.

Low-income communities of color in the U.S. today are often vulnerable to displacement, forced relocation away from the places they call home. Displacement takes many forms, including immigration enforcement, mass incarceration, gentrification, and unwanted development. This dissertation juxtaposes two different examples of displacement, emphasizing similarities in lived experiences. Mixed methods including document-based research, map-making, visual ethnography, participant observation, and interviews were used to examine two case studies in Phoenix, Arizona: (1) workplace immigration raids, which overwhelmingly target Latino migrant workers; and (2) the Loop 202 freeway, which would disproportionately impact Akimel O'odham land. Drawing on critical geography, critical ethnic studies, feminist theory, carceral studies, and decolonial theory, this research considers: the social, economic, and political causes of displacement, its impact on the cultural and social meanings of space, the everyday practices that allow people to survive economically and emotionally, and the strategies used to organize against relocation.

Although raids are often represented as momentary spectacles of danger and containment, from a worker's perspective, raids are long trajectories through multiple sites of domination. Raids' racial geographies reinforce urban segregation, while traumatization in carceral space reduces the power of Latino migrants in the workplace. Expressions of care among raided workers and others in jail and detention make carceral spaces more livable, and contribute to movement building and abolitionist sentiments outside detention.

The Loop 202 would result in a loss of native land and sovereignty, including clean air and a mountain sacred to O'odham people. While the proposal originated with corporate desire for a transnational trade corridor, it has been sustained by local industry, the perceived inevitability of development, and colonial narratives about native people and land. O'odham artists, mothers, and elders counter the freeway's colonial logics through stories that emphasize balance, collective care over individual profit, and historical consciousness.

Both raids and the freeway have been contested by local grassroots movements. Through political education, base-building, advocacy, lawsuits, and protest strategies, community organizations have achieved changes in state practice. These movements have also worked to create alternative spaces of safety and home, rooted in interpersonal care and Latino and O'odham culture.