fixes

_issue05/goffe-unmapping.md

@@ -282,7 +282,7 @@ archipelagic and served as a starting point for unmapping, a palmistry
 of wayfinding (fig. 3).
 
 {% include image.html
-  img="issue05/goffe/fig3.JPG"
+  img="issue05/goffe/fig3.jpg"
   title="You Will Find a Way"
   caption="Figure 3. Tao Leigh Goffe, *You Will Find a Way*, 2018. A mid-sixteenth century map projected onto my hand became the anchoring image for the *Unmapping the Caribbean* project." %}
 

_issue05/josephs-blogging.md

@@ -16,7 +16,7 @@ order: 3
 abstract: >
   Caribbean autobiography in the mid-twentieth century grew as a method of combatting aporias in literary production and epistemological models, with novelists in particular writing themselves into visibility. But this tradition was predominantly male and decidedly heterosexual. Even as the Caribbean literary canon slowly diversified toward the end of the twentieth century with the inclusion of various life stories, the voices of queer writers remained at low volume, almost muted. This essay reads how those voices were enabled at the turn of the millennium by digital technologies. Reading digital versions of the personal narrative within the historical context of Caribbean autobiography, it examines the self-fashioning twenty-first-century Caribbean writers performed and published via the blogosphere. With particular focus on blogs by two Jamaican writers—Staceyann Chin and Marlon James—it argues that the form and technical features of blogging offered a safe space for queer Caribbean writers to "speak out" in ways that continued the tradition of Caribbean autobiography.
 abstract_fr: >
-  L'autobiographie caribbéenne au milieu du vingtième siècle est devenue une méthode pour combattre les apories de la production littéraire et des modèles épistémologiques, avec les romanciers en particulier s'écrivant dans la visibilité. Mais cette tradition était majoritairement masculine et décidément hétérosexuelle. Alors même que le canon littéraire des Caraïbes se diversifiait lentement vers la fin du vingtième siècle avec l'inclusion de diverses histoires de vie, les voix des écrivains queer demeuraient à faible volume, à peine audibles. Cet article lit comment ces voix ont été activées au tournant du millénaire par les technologies numériques. Par la lecture de versions numériques du récit personnel dans le context de l'autobiographie caribbéenne, il examine l'auto-façonnage effectué et publié par les écrivains caribbéens du XXIème siècle via la blogosphère. Se focalisant en particulier sur les blogs de deux écrivains jamaïquains---Staceyann Chin et Marlon James---il affirme que la forme et les caractéristiques techniques du blog ont offert un safe space aux écrivains queer des Caraïbes pour “parler haut et fort” de manière à continuer la tradition de l'autobiographie caribbéenne. 
+  L'autobiographie caribbéenne au milieu du vingtième siècle est devenue une méthode pour combattre les apories de la production littéraire et des modèles épistémologiques, avec les romanciers en particulier s'écrivant dans la visibilité. Mais cette tradition était majoritairement masculine et décidément hétérosexuelle. Alors même que le canon littéraire des Caraïbes se diversifiait lentement vers la fin du vingtième siècle avec l'inclusion de diverses histoires de vie, les voix des écrivains queer demeuraient à faible volume, à peine audibles. Cet article lit comment ces voix ont été activées au tournant du millénaire par les technologies numériques. Par la lecture de versions numériques du récit personnel dans le context de l'autobiographie caribbéenne, il examine l'auto-façonnage effectué et publié par les écrivains caribbéens du XXIème siècle via la blogosphère. Se focalisant en particulier sur les blogs de deux écrivains jamaïquains---Staceyann Chin et Marlon James---il affirme que la forme et les caractéristiques techniques du blog ont offert un safe space aux écrivains queer des Caraïbes pour "parler haut et fort" de manière à continuer la tradition de l'autobiographie caribbéenne. 
 abstract_es: >
   La autobiografía caribeña a mediados del siglo XX creció como un método para combatir las aporías en la producción literaria y los modelos epistemológicos, y los novelistas en particular se escribieron para hacerse visibles. Pero esta tradición era predominantemente masculina y decididamente heterosexual. A pesar de que el canon literario caribeño se diversificó lentamente hacia fines del siglo XX con la inclusión de varias historias de vida, las voces de los escritores cuirs se mantuvieron en un volumen bajo, casi en silencio. Este ensayo lee cómo esas voces fueron habilitadas en el cambio de milenio por las tecnologías digitales. Examinando versiones digitales de la narrativa personal dentro del contexto histórico de la autobiografía caribeña, este ensayo examina como ciertos autores caribeños del siglo XXI se auto-modelaron a través de publicaciones y actos interpretativos en la blogósfera. Con especial énfasis en los blogs de dos escritores jamaicanos, Staceyann Chin y Marlon James, argumenta que la forma y las características técnicas de los blogs ofrecieron un espacio seguro para que los escritores caribeños queer "hablaran" de manera que continuara la tradición de la autobiografía caribeña.
 language: en

utility/log/_issue05/editors-intro.tex

@@ -24,7 +24,7 @@
 
 It is around the concept---the necessity---of intervention that the contributions to {\em archipelagos}(5) coalesce. Each essay and platform presented here considers the ways Caribbean subjects in the digital realm have refashioned the terms, the tools, and the terrain of representation of the self in the world. Engaging explicitly popular and accessible forms, from memes to music to blogs to maps, of common concern is the matter of crafting alternative authority within the structures of domination that condition our contemporary online and offline experiences.
 
-Tzarina Prater and Jonathan Felix, respectively, direct our attention to the literal and metaphorical comments section with their powerful reminders of the critical pathways that emerge when we attend to the possibilities of online call-and-response. Both contributors explore the oft ignored digital paratext that writes back to and within the more sedimented textual offerings of corporate platforms such as Facebook and YouTube. Kelly Baker Josephs also considers informal spaces of online network- and community-building by Caribbean subjects. Her essay examines how self-identified queer Jamaican writers Staceyann Chin and Marlon James have made use of the blogosphere to cultivate an autobiographical presence outside and independent of traditional publishing venues.
+Tzarina Prater and Jonathan J. Felix, respectively, direct our attention to the literal and metaphorical comments section with their powerful reminders of the critical pathways that emerge when we attend to the possibilities of online call-and-response. Both contributors explore the oft ignored digital paratext that writes back to and within the more sedimented textual offerings of corporate platforms such as Facebook and YouTube. Kelly Baker Josephs also considers informal spaces of online network- and community-building by Caribbean subjects. Her essay examines how self-identified queer Jamaican writers Staceyann Chin and Marlon James have made use of the blogosphere to cultivate an autobiographical presence outside and independent of traditional publishing venues.
 
 This issue also takes seriously the classroom as a space of real intervention. Both Jacob Edmond and Tao Leigh Goffe lay out ways that seemingly neutral practices like seeing and mapping bear deconstructing when it comes to the matter of representational authority in the Caribbean. Edmond makes the case for privileging the audio over the visual in pedagogical engagements with Kamau Brathwaite's poetry. In his sound-rich essay Edmond argues that digital audio archives provide platforms through which to experience Brathwaite's work in ways that disorder our conventional reading and teaching practices. Goffe similarly proposes shifting our intellectual investments from the visual to the sonic in a determined praxis of what she calls \quotation{unmapping.} Placing black and indigenous Caribbean bodies in contestatory relation to the signposts of imperial modernity---to maps in particular---allows Goffe to bring students into Maroon spaces of both collaboration and, where necessary, refusal.
 

utility/log/_issue05/goffe-unmapping.tex

@@ -69,7 +69,7 @@
 \placefigure{Maps from Memory}{\externalfigure[images/goffe/fig2.jpg]}
 Students began to question whether Guyana, Venezuela, and Bermuda are part of the Caribbean (I did not answer these questions until the activity was over and we had considered the multiplicity of definitions of archipelagic space as well as the imperial positionality implicit in our studying the region from New York). Some of the hand-drawn maps featured only Jamaica or Cuba; others depicted Haiti and the Dominican Republic not on Hispaniola but as separate islands (fig.~2). While many showed south Florida, none included New York City, where, as of 2013, roughly a quarter of the residents were of Caribbean origin.\footnote{Arun Peter Lobo and Joseph J. Salvo, \quotation{Growth and Composition of the Immigrant Population,} in {\em The Newest New Yorkers: Characteristics of the City's Foreign-Born Population} (New York: City of New York, Department of City Planning, and Office of Immigrant Affairs, 2013), 13, \useURL[url13][https://www1.nyc.gov/assets/planning/download/pdf/data-maps/nyc-population/nny2013/nny_2013.pdf]\from[url13].} No maps featured Suriname, the former Dutch colony that is part of the South American landmass; none of my students had even heard of the country, much less the language, Sranan Tongo, or the music, {\em kaseko}. For this reason, I chose to use my hand to visually represent our five disparate but joined geographies---five separate \quotation{fingers,} part of one \quotation{hand.} I projected Battista Ramusio's mid-sixteenth-century map onto my hand to juxtapose the materiality of the body and the epistemic violence the map inscribes on flesh. My palm anchored the inquiry into the archipelagic and served as a starting point for unmapping, a palmistry of wayfinding (fig.~3).
 
-\placefigure{You Will Find a Way}{\externalfigure[images/goffe/fig3.JPG]}
+\placefigure{You Will Find a Way}{\externalfigure[images/goffe/fig3.jpg]}
 I split the nineteen students into five groups and assigned each a location---I then challenged them to consider how each Caribbean space troubles the concept of the archipelago. The students exploring Suriname, for example, reckoned with the Dutch Empire, which often gets overlooked in the anglophone context. They contrasted the transparency of the paved roadways of the port city Paramaribo with the geographic opacity of the rainforest interior, parts of which are accessible only by small private planes. I taught them about how the Netherlands traded North New Amsterdam, now New York, for the South American New Amsterdam of Suriname because it was a sugar colony. New York, arguably a Caribbean city of the global North, is its own archipelago of forty-odd islands. On Hispaniola, the linguistic, cultural, and racial fracturings between Haiti and the Dominican Republic are as much a barrier as they are spaces of fluid musical exchange. Cuba has existed under a state of economic embargo and technological isolation that forms an opacity of exclusion by the United States, the communist nation's punishment for its refusal to acquiesce to the US geopolitical domination in the hemisphere. The students exploring Jamaica centered the global flows of reggae and how these are entangled with tourism and ecological degradation. Based on the students' research, I used Esri's \quotation{Map Series} template to stitch together five story maps to form one cohesive project with five tabs. Attention to the sensorium is amplified by the digital, insofar as multiple registers can be experienced at once on a story maps. It was important that the students understand how these disparate geographies connected to each other to form one archipelago, a chain of Caribbean/diasporic thought.
 
 By anchoring these disparate geographies on my hand, I wanted students to consider the significance of the body in colonizing and mapping. I turned the image of the map superimposed on my hand into a postcard and wrote a message from the diaspora to an imagined addressee named X---a love letter of longing---which I then submitted to \useURL[url14][https://mina-loy.com/endehorsgarde/][][Post(card)s from the "en dehors garde]\from[url14]," a digital project on the feminist website {\em Mina Loy: Navigating the Avant-Garde} (fig.~4). The project collaborators had invited artists, writers, and scholars to write postcards expressing ideas about the {\em en dehors garde}, a term they had coined to describe the women, people of color, and others marginalized in or excluded from histories and theories of the avant-garde. They arranged seventy postcards on the website, curated together as a \useURL[url15][https://mina-loy.com/chapters/avant-garde-theory-2/digital-flash-mob/][][digital flash mob]\from[url15].\footnote{See \quotation{Post(card)s from the \quote{en dehors garde,}} MinnaLoy.com, https://mina-loy.com/endehorsgarde/. The digital flash mob is here: \useURL[url16][https://mina-loy.com/chapters/avant-garde-theory-2/digital-flash-mob/]\from[url16].} I later adapted my postcard as the landing page for {\em Unmapping the Caribbean}. Thus we began our joint unmapping quest---one professor, nineteen students, and three technologists.\footnote{The students whose assistance has been invaluable to {\em Unmapping the Caribbean} are Moriah Dowd, Zainab Floyd, Sophia Gumbs, Awura Gyimah, Harmony Hemmings-Pallay, Elliot Levy, Efosi Litombe, Naomi Malcolm, Matthew Martinez, Michelle Mawere, Kevwe Okumakube, Massiel Perez, Amodhya Samarakoon, Jesse Sgambati, Tatyana Tandanpolie, Mahalet Tegenu, Eva Toscanos, Hawau Touray, and Xiaolong Woods. Throughout the narrative I link them to specific parts of the project.}

utility/log/_issue05/josephs-blogging.tex

@@ -123,7 +123,7 @@
 
 Reaching with these longer and wider fingers for what audience may come, Chin and James equivocally thrust their stories of self into the public domain. Frequently expressing doubt about the venture, they nevertheless continued to write themselves, pushing against canonical expectations while creating digital space for others in a collective of Caribbean voices. As Sandra Pouchet Paquet writes, \quotation{Self-focus enhances rather than diminishes authority; it serves to establish the author's credibility in a cultural space of his own creation.}\footnote{Paquet, {\em Caribbean Autobiography}, 137.} With their self-focused writings, Chin and James propelled themselves into a literary tradition while also wrestling with the myopia of that tradition. Taking advantage of turn-of-the-twenty-first-century technologies that promised freedom even as they withheld ultimate control, Chin and James insisted on the relevance and credibility of queer and Caribbean and queer Caribbean lives. In this place where they could write their own histories, they created and deleted, reproduced and revised, refusing to let their self-narratives be fixed.
 
-\subsection[title={Acknowledgements},reference={acknowledgements}]
+\subsection[title={Acknowledgments},reference={acknowledgments}]
 
 Endless gratitude to Nicholas Laughlin, without whose generosity, then and now, I could not have written this essay. I am also indebted to the following people for their critical readings of various early drafts: Matthew Chin, Ronald Cummings, Tzarina T. Prater, and the editors and anonymous peer reviewers for {\em archipelagos}.