(Part 1 here)
Day 4/8. Friday, 5 august 2022
I wake up anxious to “get things going”. Afterall, my whole reason for being in LA is to attend the ASA, and although I did want to take advantage of the opportunity to see some sights, in all honesty, they are secondary to the conference and its activities. I was yet to know how tiring the conference of such size can be and how necessary it is to take breaks and “break-away” into less academic activities. But for now, I was determined to partake, fully, in everything I could related with the Conference. After three long years since I started my PhD, I had only attended on-line conferences, and was excited -as well as nervous, anxious, fearful, apprehensive, energized, determined- to attend my first in-person conference since I began this PhD journey.
I had set aside a guayabera I had bought just for the occasion, and a little after 6 in the morning, I swiftly left my room, dressed and ready for a full day of engaging with migration scholars and migration topics. After a quick glance in the mirror, I set out into a tepid terrain as dusk basked the landscape I set foot in. I saw only a few people scattered along the way to metro, and found I was only second in line to grab a coffee. “Oh, coffee! I salute you!”. Coffee in hand, the daze of such an early morning was shunned by energy I felt of finally attending something in planning since the beginning of this year. 45 minutes later I was standing in front of the University of Southern California’s entrance, with minutes to spare. I sit and pull out a cigarette. Social anxiety sets in and I begin the mental process of calming and centering myself. I am unsure what to expect, and do the necessary self-talk to center my thoughts on overcoming whatever I may find and stepping in, freely and confident into the unknown. I settle my thoughts and my anxiety and walk into the University Club. I am greeted at a reception area where I check my name of a list, write “Renato” on a name tag and am directed to the outside patio. Its barely 745 but the patio is filled with people, mingling, huddled and clustered in small groups, grabbing coffee, eating pastries. I pass some people and head for more coffee. I am also enthusiastic to eat something.
(I’ve been making the mistake to skip breakfast and instead compensate with a big lunch.
Note to future me: Eat breakfast).With coffee in hand, I look around and decide to join a partially occupied table. I introduce myself and ask permission to sit among them. They are warm and welcoming and I set my coffee down to grab some pastries and orange juice. I sit and listen to the ongoing conversation. During a pause, the other members turn their attention to me, where I am from, what I am studying. We exchange our introductions while a fourth member sits among us. Finding ourselves among everyone is an interesting exercise in social interaction. With the common base line of being sociologists focusing on migration, the first exchanges are about our work, our research our take on migration. I am relived to find such a warm and welcoming environment. Of course, this is exactly what you expect, but social anxiety has a way of distorting expectations. While getting to know each other, Dr. Hellen B. Marrow, the International Migration section chair, gives a warm and thoughtful introduction as well as sharing logistic issues regarding the morning session. We are invited to enter the building to attend simultaneous sessions either on the ground floor or the second floor depending on interests and affinity. After first going to the second floor, I quickly realized I was more interested in the session downstairs and returned to the ground floor to assess where I could sit. I see empty chairs in the back and make my way to them. Barely settling down, while taking out my notebook and pens, I am greeted enthusiastically in Spanish by someone sitting down next to me. I am surprised to hear Spanish and look over and find myself next to Dr. Ernesto Castañeda. “Oralé Ernesto, que gustazo conocerte en persona!” I mention. We exchange a few pleasantries in Spanish and sit down to listen to the panel and their research findings. The session has begun, and I begin to feel more at ease as the day moves forwards and the sessions move along.
The start of the Mini Conference "Emerging voices in Migration Scholarship" at the University of Southern California, 5 August 2022
[The following is part of my official statement of accomplishments as a first-time attendee of an American Sociological Association Conference and part of my agreement for being the recipient of a Student Travel Award]
The first leg of my experience at the American Sociological Association was attending the International Migration section one-day conference, “Emerging Voices in Migration Scholarship”, held in the beautiful installations of the University of Southern California. Not only was this my opportunity to interact, exchange and present myself toward a global audience with some of the best global scholars in migration analysis, but also a place and moment to place myself within the possibility of being among “the best and brightest” in migration research. I was in awe to see so many authors I had dutifully read, cited and discussed in the cumulative years of the doctorate, now “out of text” and “in-body” as in situ. It feels like walking into books. It feels like the coming together of worlds. It feels like possibility and hope. I embrace the feeling.
The event is wonderfully put together, allowing for a great exchange of perspectives, from recent research results and discussions, to practical application from the learned and lived experiences of consolidated and global respected researchers in the field. To hear and be privy to some of their insights on their journey through academia, was enlightening as well as stimulating. To be cautioned to find a creative balance between the academic career and personal life was also refreshing.
Before I knew it, the conference was wrapping up and setting off to see the inaugural plenary session of the Conference “Beyond Control: Immigration Policy in an Era of Enforcement” with Cecilia Menjívar, Douglas Massey, Karen Musalo, Roger Waldinger, , Kelly Lytle Hernandez, and Muzaffar Chishti.
A fascinating discussion about the state of affairs of migration regimes and policies. Upon closing, I attended the Welcome Reception, held outside in a small contained area of the JW Marriott hotel. Walking into the hot breeze of Los Angeles, the welcome reception was set to the tune a Mexican band that had some attendees dancing, while others glanced onward.
I was so humbled and honored to be able to interact with amazing scholars during the reception. A special and kind thank you to Ernesto Castañeda for his generous invitation to interact and socialize. I was humbled to get to know Amin Pérez and David Martin Cook, and had a great time filled with laughter, mixed in with interesting and provocative conversations. It was surprising to be among such important scholars and feel their human warmth and kind demeanor. What a first day of the Conference. I left anxious and excited for the upcoming sessions.
Inaugural plenary session of the Conference “Beyond Control: Immigration Policy in an Era of Enforcement” with Cecilia Menjívar, Douglas Massey, Karen Musalo, Roger Waldinger, , Kelly Lytle Hernandez, and Muzaffar Chishti, August 5, 2022
Day 5/8. Saturday, 6 august 2022
Attending the Mini Conference organized by the International Migration section of the American Sociological Association allowed for a structured entrance into the conference itself. I now see how beneficial it was to begin with a contained group as we had done so yesterday. Today, as I reach the Conference venue at the Convention Center with coffee in hand, I realize how big and disperse the conference is. I have a busy schedule that has multiple conflicting sessions I am interested in. Multiple sessions start at 9 and so forth throughout the day. I realize I need to take the necessary time to truly preplan my schedule, making decisions in order to create a non-conflicted timeline of activities I want to attend. As I enter the Convention center, I see an ocean of people moving in opposite tide systems, bobbing in and out of spaces, crisscrossing the arena. “Where am I to go?”, I think. I chose a session and make my way toward it. I am surprised at how far I have to walk to reach the room. I am curious as to what a “regular” session looks like and find it to be quite cozy; quite intimate. A table sits in front of 6 to 10 rows of chairs and a panel of speakers present their research in the span of 15 minutes while a moderate and discussant moves the session along, concluding in opening up the session for questions in the audience. I watch, learn, and take notes.
The discussion is fascinating. I want to be in multiple sessions at once. I jot down some notes, some key words. The discussant opens up the conversation to questions from the audience. An audience member has “more of a comment than a question” and tackles some aspect of what was said and proposes a different approach. I register this as something no to do. I understand the need for debate, but then do so in form of a question, more than “a suggestion”. The session moves along, and another one and another one and by early afternoon I am feeling the weight and effect of not-the-best-sleep and making the ongoing mistake to skip breakfast. I feel lightheaded, a little dizzy, low on energy and overwhelmed. I leave the convention center and go buy a sugary drink. I then decide to add a sandwich to the drink in order to truly bring my energy levels up and not just give me a spike in energy only to drop a few moments later. I immediately realize I have made the right decision. I feel, almost, like a different person. I am less overwhelmed, more focused, more confident, and thinking clearly. I make a few strategic decisions on how and what to do in the afternoon, and return to the convention center, away from the Los Angeles burning sun and heat. I realize my skin is already peeling in some areas.
The Convention Center (left) and Jw Marriot (right) as the two venues for many events/sessions of the ASA
Despite the fascinating discussions and sessions, I have a feeling of loneliness fueled by the sight of so many groups and clusters bobbing along and throughout the whole Conference scenescape. People chatting in corners, drinking coffee together, taking selfies, going to lunch, dinner, shows and events, while I realize I have none of these networks (yet).
It reminds me of the first couple of months in Tijuana, where I arrived with no networks, no relations, no “knowledge” really and began the work of building friendships, networks and relationships; but it reminds of those primal moments in life -especially present in the life of a migrant- where I distinctively recall -as was repeatedly told this story- that when my mother and I moved to England, I spoke no English. I continued to know and speak very little, if any English, when I was enrolled in primary school. Be it a planted memory or an actual memory, I “recall” the following:
It might have been the first few days of a new year in primary school. Boys and girls, between the ages of 4 and 6, were playing in the school yard. Not surprisingly, the girls were playing on one side of the yard and the boys on the other. Now, this is what I remember. I remember a group of boys surrounding me. Maybe one is holding a football (soccer ball in case there is any misunderstanding), maybe not. The feeling is that they have surrounded me and made a tight and closed circle around me. They are saying something to me which I don’t understand. For all I know, they might have been asking my name, or if I wanted to play football with them. I couldn’t understand them and the sensation I recall having is one of feeling trapped, feeling suffocated and feeling threatened. Suddenly, I push and swing my fists seeking a way out. We begin to fight. This, unfortunately, would become somewhat of a routine, where I would react to not understanding by “forcing” my way out of the conversation, most of the time, needing to punch or shove a boy out of the way. This may or may not be true, for I have little way of corroborating this story, but this is a memory that I have since I was young boy, a recurrent memory. In any case, my actions -naturally- did not win me any favor or -most importantly- friends, and so “lost in translation” I remember having a lonely time. A sensation I see myself feeling during this second day of the Conference. I become acutely aware that many see this conference as a means for professional mobility. I hear people talking about “networking” and getting advice on applications, and funding, and scholarships… I realize I have little knowledge of this, but that I wasn’t expecting to engage with this at all. I, naively, came to be part of one of the greatest and most important gathering of sociologist in the English speaking world to hear ideas, thought and discussions with little care for professional mechanisms. Again, I feel somewhat out of place.
Throughout the conference, I met some kind and generous colleagues. Meeting like-minded individuals from all walks of life is, to me, the greatest aspect of this conference. Thank you to everyone I interacted with for your kind demeanor, your interesting ideas, and -if you happen to be reading this- I wish you the best in your future endeavors and hope to meet again next time around. Thank you, to the American Sociological Association Student Forum Travel for their generous award to make possible my attendance at the American Sociological Association’s 117th conference in Los Angeles. Without your generous support, I would not have been able to attend the conference. Thank you, sincerely, for your support.
I lingered more than I wanted to in the Convention Center feeling the weight of attending so many sessions and engaging, constantly, with dense and provocative thought. I need a break, a mental break, to re-gather and go on but I also needed to attend the Student Reception as I was one of a select few to receive the American Sociological Association’s Student Forum Travel Award which consisted of a check that was instrumental, if not fundamental, in my participation at the Conference.
At around 530pm, I make my way to the Student Reception, and attempt to identify where and who is giving out the checks. While I am searching, I meet a colleague I had recently met at another conference, and she introduces me to her friend. We exchange some kind words, the social interaction slowly revealing how and where to place ourselves vis-à-vis ourselves. The encounter is fun and we quickly strategize to find the place and way of receiving the award. Whilst this, I am invited to attend other receptions these colleagues will soon be going to. They mention sharing a ride-sharing vehicle, that first drinks there are free, and I get this sense of how detached I am from these events, from these possibilities. I am ashamed to tell them I do not have the financial means to invest in this, so I play into my responsibility toward my presentation tomorrow. Instead of opening up to the economic disparities of my reality, I tell them I should better get some rest and “take it easy”. It’s interesting how the feeling and theme of shame comes up here. Shame is one of my structural findings that determine why Mexican deportees stay on in Tijuana, in dire straits.
They feel “ashamed” to go home; they feel ashamed of their battered situation and, in a most interesting and unexpected way, I also feel shame in not being able to “freely reveal myself”; to not be able to engage, guilt-free, in entertainment that is not directed toward a rational element of sustenance.
I remember my time in San Francisco, and how, as a first year undergraduate student in Sociology, I had spent my first month in “the City” living in a hostel. I remember how I shared a room with two war veterans now addicted to crack and an English man addicted to heroin. I remember having no more than 5 dollars to spend throughout the day, and 3 of those dollars were spent on public transportation. I remember this and these memories seep into these interactions. The shame of “not having” and therefore “not being able” and how it distorts itself into “not being worthy” and moves into “not being able”.
How important it is to exercise our inner voice and tackle these issues of misalignment and general social malaise. I think of Homi Bhabha’s discussion on “Anxiety in the Midst of Difference”
I return to my living arrangements and seek to distract myself with a movie while I wait for sleep to settle in.
Day 6/8. Sunday, 7 august 2022
I have trouble sleeping, not only due to the excitement and anxiety that today I will be presenting my paper but also due to new roommates in the hostel who have insisted in having the lights on, still at 2 in the morning when I last checked. Regardless of the sleep-deprivation, the day’s activities are enough to make me overcome the tiredness. I take out the guayabera I brought just for this occasion, and dress for the moment. I walk, contently, toward the metro, making sure I have my paper and my presentation ready. I check my backpack a couple more times, not sure why I feel I need to re-check what I have ascertained is there, but I feel that today is not the day for mistakes, and while in the metro I still have time to go back to the hostel and get the papers I could have been missing. I have everything with me, and even so, I routinely check my backpack throughout the day. I decide on breakfast and coffee and to “take it easy”, so as not to arrive at the session “cansado”, or “estresado”. It works. At quarter to 2, I make way toward the International Migration Section room and find the table I will be presenting at. I see one of my colleagues there already, Carol Lynn Cleaveland, y la saludo. Intercambiamos unas palabras sobre la conferencia mientras esperamos a los demás. No tarda en llegar los demás, Giovanni Román-Torres, Mónica Salmón Gómez and Patrick Clemens atended virtual. Full program here
Selected International Migration Section Program, Sunday 7 August 2022. 12. Latinx roundatable
We waited on Francisco Lara-Garcia to begin the session and I was the first one to present. I take out my “speech” and read from the 3-page document I had prepared for the session, that summarizes the main points of my research paper. I discussed the politics of emotions of Mexican deported man through a discussion on the importance of bringing the affective turn into migration analysis and the role of narratives in framing migrate discussions and phenomena. The one hour session passed by quickly, almost too quicky, and before we really could engage with each other’s presentation and research, time was up.
We exited the session and went to sit in the lobby area of the JW Marriott for a few more brief moments before everyone began to go on to their next commitment and responsibilities. It was a relief to have done “what I came to do” and be free from this responsibility. I look at my calendar and see some sessions I would like to attend, but also remind myself to “take a break” and decide, instead, to go get some coffee. The International Migration section has a reception today, at 830, and I am wondering how I will occupy the next 4 and half hours before the event. Eventually, I find that waiting 4 and half hours is too much. By 7, the caffeine has worn down, and I feel thin with energy and decide, sadly, to grab some dinner and sleep. I am in bed by 830 and my feet ache.
International Migration section of the ASA (left); Latinx roundtable participants (right)
Day 7/8. Monday, 8 august 2022
I wake up early, gather my pre-selected clothes, shower and exit the hostel. The night was the worst night yet, but fortunately I have no serious commitments today beside meeting a few colleagues for coffee. It is a few moments past 7 and the sun is climbing into its full potential. It is a nice and pleasant morning. I make my way -the usual way- toward the Convention Center, more to fulfill my commitment to meet a few dear colleagues that have made themselves available for a brief moment this morning. It turn out to be one of my few true and intimate interactions at the Conference. We exchanged some ideas, I unable to shake the idea of “unchecked privilege” present throughout the conference and emotional drained and sensitive as spurs of trauma encountered in and during my fieldwork have submerged and make me realize I need to truly tackle the trauma that I seem to be carrying ever since Tijuana, which mixes into childhood trauma and abuse which is exacerbated by the feeling of dislocating and displacement while here in Los Angeles.
How unfortunate, I think, that I could not come with a sunnier disposition, but I also recognize the sincerity of the vulnerability that finds its way into the conversation. It becomes a struggle to find modes of relation as our positions in the “real world” seem so different. I have the looming feeling that the conversation, which set out to be a pleasant tete-a-tete to get to know each other, has transformed into a therapy and self-help session on my behalf. I point this out not as a critique but as an honest observation in which I am nothing but grateful for their kind suggestions on how I can connect and “move” across these academic barriers that are -in many cases- entrenched in geopolitical positions. Nevertheless, I still wish the conversation could have been less “heavy”; maybe next time.
Finishing our coffee, we say our goodbyes and move to our respective commitments. I have decided to take the morning to find a place to cash my check, an ordeal that would take me to two banks without success and eventually toward the innards of downtown Los Angeles to a cash-checking facility. With funds renewed, I splurge on breakfast and attend a few more sessions of the Conference before heading back to my hostel. I find I am exhausted by 5 and take a nap. At 8, I step outside the hostel briefly to purchase a burrito and enjoy my first day of lunch and dinner. I am delighted to sleep on a full belly.
Downtown LA, August 9 2022
Tomorrow -Tuesday, august 9- I have planned on seeing a high school friend I have not seen in the past 22 years. It would prove to be a great and emotional connection, whereby we share and reminisce our lives, our troubles, our expectations and our ideations. Seeing an old friend, here in LA, is the nicest touch to the end of my attendance at the Conference. It was great to see you Daniel. Let’s not wait 22 more years before seeing each other again.
I look forward to next American Sociological Association, this time in Philadelphia. I now know what to expect, how to act, how to inter-act. I look forward to putting this newly acquired knowledge to use. And let me not forget to take a notebook with me. Everywhere I go.
Danny and I, catching up, after 22 years, in LA, 9 August 2022.
