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Enunciando el delinking de la matriz moderna/ colonial, este artículo imagina un territorio crítico teórico creativo partiendo de la aesthesis decolonial con el fin de dialogar con una serie de hacedores culturales que emplean estrategias creativas decoloniales en proyectos creativos. Un acercamiento a la exposición Haceres Decoloniales (2015) realizada en Bogotá, ofrece la oportunidad de conversar sobre el hacer creativo de Benvenuto Chavajay, Rosa Tisoy Tandoy y Marco Alonso Roa. Los efectos de la colonialidad sonora conllevan a dialogar con la artista maya k´iche Sandra Monterroso y el creador maya yucateco Isaac Carrillo Can. Discursamos sobre el proyecto Espejo Negro (2010) de Pedro Lasch y el mural Las Aguas Sagradas de La Llorona (2004) de la artista xicana Juana Alicia. Terminamos con una interpretación crítica sobre el proyecto Mariposa Memoria Ancestral (2013-2015), y el performance multidisciplinario Whip It Good (2013) de la artista danesa trinitobaguense Jeannette Ehlers. En reliant la déconnexion de la matrice moderne / coloniale, cet article imagine un territoire créatif- théorique-critique à partir de l’aesthésis décoloniale, afin de dialoguer avec une série d’acteurs culturels qui utilisent des stratégies décoloniales créatives dans des projets créatifs. Une approche de l’exposition Haceres Decoloniales (2015) tenue à Bogotá, offre l’occasion de parler du travail créatif de Benvenuto Chavajay, Rosa Tisoy Tandoy et Marco Alonso Roa. Les effets de la colonialité sonore impliquent un dialogue avec l’artiste maya k’iche Sandra Monterroso et le créateur maya yucatècque Isaac Carrillo Can. Nous parlons du projet Espejo Negro (2010) de Pedro Lasch et de la peinture murale Las Aguas Sagradas de La Llorona (2004) de l’artiste chicane Juana Alicia. Nous terminons avec une interprétation critique du projet Mariposa Memoria Ancestral (2013-2015) et la performance pluridisciplinaire Whip It Good (2013) de l’artiste danois né en Trinité-et-Tobago Jeannette Ehlers.

Artists and cultural practitioners from Indigenous communities around the world are increasingly in the international spotlight. As museums and curators race to consider the planetary reach of their art collections and exhibitions, this publication draws upon the challenges faced today by cultural workers, Indigenous and non-Indigenous, to engage meaningfully and ethically with the histories, presents and futures of Indigenous cultural practices and world-views. Sixteen Indigenous voices convene to consider some of the most burning questions surrounding this field. How will novel methodologies of word/voice-crafting be constituted to empower the Indigenous discourses of the future? Is it sufficient to expand the Modernist art-historical canon through the politics of inclusion? Is this expansion a new form of colonisation, or does it foster the cosmopolitan thought that Indigenous communities have always inhabited? To whom does the much talked-of 'Indigenous Turn' belong? Does it represent a hegemonic project of introspection and revision in the face of today's ecocidal, genocidal and existential crises?"--Page 4 de la couverture. Autres auteurs/titres:edited by Katya García-Antón ; contributors, Daniel Browning, Kabita Chakma, Megan Cope, Santosh Kumar Das, Hannah Donnelly, Léuli Māzyār Luna'i Eshrāghi, David Garneau, Biung Ismahasan, Kimberley Moulton, Máret Ánne Sara, Venkat Raman Singh Shyam, Irene Snarby, Ánde Somby, Megan Tamati-Quennell, Prashanta Tripura, Sontosh Bikash Tripura.

Ce travail s’intéresse à la population trans MtF latino-américaine issue des secteurs populaires. Le travail a pour objectifs de (1) connaître les normes de genre du milieu d’origine de cette population (2) comprendre le lien du milieu d’origine avec leur parcours dans l’identité trans (3) examiner les parcours migratoires et comprendre leur très forte inscription dans la prostitution. L’enquête de terrain a été réalisée principalement en France et en Espagne. Concernant le cheminement identitaire, la recherche montre le poids de la formation sociale du milieu d’origine, et particulièrement le poids des normes relatives au genre dans les milieux populaires (hétéronormativité, homophobie, sanction des masculinités déviantes). Cette imbrication classe/sexe situe les personnes dans la position sociale marginale et stigmatisée de la prostitution. L’article apporte un éclairage sur cet environnement, où l’imaginaire festif côtoie l’ordinaire des violences. L’expérience migratoire, très valorisée dans le pays d’origine, est examinée. Le type de liens tissés avec la famille, et les difficultés liées à l’isolement linguistique et à la solitude sont abordés.

From #Gamergate to the daily experiences of marginalization among gamers, gaming is entangled with mainstream cultures of systematic exploitation and oppression. Whether visible in the persistent color line that shapes the production, dissemination, and legitimization of dominant stereotypes within the industry itself, or in the dehumanizing representations often found within game spaces, many video games perpetuate injustice and mirror the inequities and violence that permeate society as a whole. Drawing from the latest research and from popular games such as World of warcraft and Tomb raider, Woke gaming examines resistance to spaces of violence, discrimination, and microaggressions in gaming culture. The contributors of these essays identify strategies to detox gaming culture and orient players toward progressive ends, illustrating the power and potential of video games to become catalysts for social justice

Feminism in Play focuses on women as they are depicted in video games, as participants in games culture, and as contributors to the games industry. This volume showcases women's resistance to the norms of games culture, as well as women's play and creative practices both in and around the games industry. Contributors analyze the interconnections between games and the broader societal and structural issues impeding the successful inclusion of women in games and games culture. In offering this framework, this volume provides a platform to the silenced and marginalized, offering counter-narratives to the post-racial and post-gendered fantasies that so often obscure the violent context of production and consumption of games culture.

What counts as the field site when researching Nepali video game developers? Concentrating on the company Arcube Games and Animation, in the summer of 2017 I used the ethnoludographic method to research game development in the Kathmandu Valley. I recorded my findings in field notes, photographs, written documents and other material culture. My usual ethnographic method developed in two ways. First, I engaged in ludography, a humanistic qualitative method for interpreting gaming. Second, Nepal proved not to be an isolated location, but rather a vortex of global flows. I found that in the Kathmandu valley these flows are often focused on a fantasy of Shangri-La that poses Nepal as an underdeveloped traditional nation, full of picturesque poverty, and over-determined with religious culture, but blessed with beautiful Himalayan landscapes.

"Queerness in Play examines the many ways queerness of all kinds - from queer as 'LGBT' to other, less well-covered aspects of the queer spectrum - intersects with games and the social contexts of play. The current unprecedented visibility of queer creators and content comes at a high tide of resistance to the inclusion of those outside a long-imagined cisgender, heterosexual, white male norm. By critically engaging the ways games - as a culture, an industry, and a medium - help reproduce limiting binary formations of gender and sexuality, Queerness in Play contributes to the growing body of scholarship promoting more inclusive understandings of identity, sexuality, and games."--Provided by publisher.

Around 1994 or 1995 I came across a call for articles for an anthology to be published by the XII Black International Cinema , documenting ten years of the festival and associated activities, 1986– 95. The request asked for articles and film lists from an international and intercultural group of scholars and filmmakers, and I thought this was an opportunity to document the exciting and pioneering work that was being done by a community of emerging Black lesbian and gay film-and video makers at the time.

In novel ways, and from a surprising location, Yvonne Welbon’s Remembering Wei-Yi Fang, Remembering Myself: An Autobiography (1995) explores some of the same dilemmas that earlier African American expatriate artists promulgated, using their time abroad as a win dow onto America, while relishing the nurturing possibilities of partial escape from American racism. Some of the most complex and insightful observations about America and American racism have been crafted by African American expatriate artists such as James Baldwin and Josephine Baker. These artists’ depictions of their encounters abroad complicate our understandings of American identity and American racism.

This paper is a brief summary of a preliminary exploration of certain aspects of independent video game development in Japan. Initial interviews were conducted with researchers and indie game developers over a two-week period in Tokyo. Independent game developers from Kamakura were also interviewed as part of the research. Initial fieldwork was geared primarily toward doujin level game development and distribution. My key research question focused upon the religious and spiritual dimensions of doujin games. However, after conducting interviews it became clear that developers did not consider the Western frame or classification of religion and spirituality in their development but rather incorporated aspects of tradition, culture and values within their work.

"Pretty Liar" explores the rise of language and gender politics on Lebanese television to tell the untold story of the co-evolution of Lebanese television and its audiences and how the civil war of 1975-1991 affected that co-evolution. The shift in public interest in television has been widely acknowledged and interpreted within an institutional context as a victory of the neo-liberal entrepreneurship of a new, agile brand over the government inefficiency of Lebanon's national station, Télé Liban. Yet, the role of the Lebanese Civil War in reshaping national television and broadcasting in Arab media following the emergence of the Lebanese Broadcasting Company in 1985 has been unexplored. Based on empirical data and grounded in theory by Arab and global researchers, "Pretty Liar" offers textual analyses of five Lebanese fictional series, three major and several additional periodicals, and nine literary works, and provides context from unscripted interviews with television administrators, anchors, actors, and freelance contributors, print journalists, and audience members. Khazaal seeks to offer new insight into how entertainment television became a site for politics and political resistance, feminism, and the cradle for post-war Lebanon due to the shift in practices and standards of legitimacy. The history of television in Lebanon is not merely the history of technology and business, Khazaal argues, but rather the history of a people and their continuing quest for a responsive television even during times of civil unrest.

Le collectif d'artistes Nation to Nation crée en 1996 CyberPowWow, une galerie d'art numérique autochtone en ligne. Entre 1997 et 2004, le projet voit quatre éditions se succéder et plus d'une vingtaine d'artistes y participer. CPW développe un modèle alternatif pour une production, une diffusion et une critique autodéterminée des arts numériques autochtones au Canada, ce qui lui confère une place importante dans la structuration de cette scène. Le présent mémoire vise à étudier la position de CPW - sa plateforme muséographique et ses œuvres - au sein d'un ensemble de discours chronopolitiques qui opèrent à l'intersection des arts, des technologies numériques et des identités autochtones

To date, game studies has largely undertheorized the co-production of postcolonial stories, exploration, and mapping in games. Furthermore, as has been noted before (Carr, 2006), the work that has been done on postcolonialism and play so far often leaves the player out of the equation, even sometimes as a theoretical construct. Yet player experience is crucial to understanding such games, as narratives are not only built on the ‘master’ level of game mechanics, but also through the personal stories players processually (Ash, 2009; Thrift, 2008) develop through their journey of touring and mapping, thereby developing spatial stories (De Certeau, 1984; Jenkins, 2004; Lammes, 2009) that may present us with conflicting spatio-temporal accounts. Through a comparative and collaborative auto-ethnographic analysis of Civilization VI (Sid Meier, 2016) – a turn-based strategy game – we want to push this discussion further and improve our theoretical understanding and analytical purchase of the triad relation between narrative and postcolonialism in games, thereby contributing to the field of postcolonial theory and game studies. Drawing on postcolonial geography, science and technology studies (STS), non-representational theory and game studies, we argue that games, through their playful, explorative and emergent qualities, are a powerful means of rethinking and reimagining colonial (hi)stories in this postcolonial era (Lammes, 2009, 2010) including issues of spatio-temporality, cartography and the hybrid relation between women and machines.

Karl Schoonover and Rosalind Galt attempt a formidable feat in Queer Cinema in the World: to take three charged yet indispensable concepts and theorize their interconnections. A tour-de-force analysis of the triangulation between “queer,” “cinema,” and “world”, this coauthored monograph largely succeeds in drawing out threads between crucial issues in cinema studies, queer theory, and global studies.

An introduction is presented in which the editor discusses various reports within the issue on topics including where and how queerness is produced, the use of paratexts to expand and stop queer readings of films, and queers' non-reliance on mainstream media to produce queer stories.

Much has been written about Nina Simone’s song “Mississippi Goddam” because it lyrically achieves the political consciousness of the embattled community whose experiences and energy it intends to speak to, through, and for. With its curse words, impatient tone, and energetic rhythm, it could never be mistaken for the traditional, Christian-inflected civil rights dirge. “Alabama’s got me so upset,” the chorus complains. “Tennessee made me lose my rest, and,” as if its atrocities need not be spelled out, “every body knows about Mississippi, goddam!” The song was banned from radio airplay but still became part of the civil rights sound

People of color comprise a large proportion of the US player base, yet are systematically and grossly underrepresented in digital games. We constructed a survey to assess if players perceive this underrepresentation, how they experience these representations, and sample their beliefs about diversity and gaming. Mixed-methods analyses show significant differences between players of color and White players on perception of racial norms in gaming, effects on behavior, emotions, player satisfaction, engagement, and beliefs stemming from a lack of diversity. Players from all races-ethnicities overwhelmingly expressed a desire for greater diversity. We discuss reasons why our methodology shows higher dissatisfaction than previous research and discuss our findings in the context of industry's challenge to meet audience demands for greater racial diversity in games.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content: introduction While digital games hold promise for learning and socialization, emerging research and popular debates have critiqued inclusive access to these practices and literacies. This essay examines digital games for their potential to integrate diverse individuals and communities for learning and socialization, especially in online play and broadcasting of gameplay. For example, a level of cultural competency can be attained in well-developed games to overcome essentialist notions and assumptions about women and people of color. Using Black Cyberfeminism as a theoretical lens to make sense of players’ experiences, and Racialized Pedagogical Zones (RPZs) as an analytical frame to situate digital games’ entrenched ideologies of race and racism, we contend that games offer highly unproblematized depictions but have extreme potential for cultural competency. We further utilize Communities of Practice (CoP) as a frame for understanding and interrogating equitable access to community-supported collaborative learning and mastery within game culture, more broadly, and interest-driven guilds, clans, and affinity spaces, more specifically. In our extension of CoP, we integrate inclusive to highlight the resistive and resilient strategies employed by supportive communities for diverse women in addressing the systematic nature of oppression and power relations that undergird communities of practice, particularly in marked gendered spaces such as gaming. Marginalizing practices in game culture have become more widely publicized and understood in recent years, most notably because of high profile incidents of harassment. However, representations of women and racial or ethnic minorities by the gaming industry have also been problematic historically. For instance, since the 1980s video games have been critiqued for the hypersexualization of women and women are often the victims of misogynistic [End Page 112] vitriol, as the incidents around Gamergate have exposed. People of color are featured in largely stereotypical ways and are all but absent from the gaming industry. Queer gamers and gamers with dis/abilities are almost entirely absent and, when present, are not depicted fairly. This differential treatment appears to have a symbiotic relationship with the exclusion of marginalized players. As researchers have noted, Internet technologies and virtual communities operate in a manner that benefits privileged identities. These unequal power relations are accepted as legitimate and are embedded in the cultural practices of digital technology. Nevertheless, many gamers—most notably women—have resisted this perpetual state of inequity and the dominant narrative of power, control, and exclusion. Although some in gaming contend that these are not overt practices of exclusion, many players and scholars acknowledge the existence of symbolic exclusion, where those who are valued have the privilege to define legitimate practice and participation within gaming culture. The unequal power relations operating within the gaming community influence not only what gamers consume but also what they learn about themselves and others. Further, the racialized and gendered consumptive practices through gaming are often taken for granted. Commercial gaming culture is, with few exceptions, complicit in these exclusionary practices by continuing to design at a deficit, despite these increasingly apparent realities. But many gamers have begun to resist and challenge not only the imagery but also the practices that sustain white, masculine privilege within gaming and technology in general. While these practices have yet to reach a critical mass to disrupt the power structure operating within game culture as a whole, they exist counter to the mainstream and empower the marginalized operating within them. While the literature will provide an overview of these practices, our purpose is to privilege the resistance and resilience strategies of the marginalized to disrupt the traditional narrative while they empower themselves. We utilize Kimberlé Crenshaw’s framework of intersectionality to reflect on identity, recognizing that “the problem with identity politics is not that it fails to transcend difference, as some critics charge, but rather the opposite—that it frequently conflates or ignores intragroup differences.” We also want to caution that while we focus on players who have historically been the marginalized in gaming culture and game research, we recognize that men...

This book examines the representation of blackness on television at the height of the southern civil rights movement and again in the aftermath of the Reagan-Bush years. In the process, it looks carefully at how television's ideological projects with respect to race have supported or conflicted with the industry's incentive to maximize profits or consolidate power. Sasha Torres examines the complex relations between the television industry and the civil rights movement as a knot of overlapping interests. She argues that television coverage of the civil rights movement during 1955-1965 encouraged viewers to identify with black protestors and against white police, including such infamous villains as Birmingham's Bull Connor and Selma's Jim Clark. Torres then argues that television of the 1990s encouraged viewers to identify with police against putatively criminal blacks, even in its dramatizations of police brutality. Torres's pioneering analysis makes distinctive contributions to its fields. It challenges television scholars to consider the historical centrality of race to the constitution of the medium's genres, visual conventions, and industrial structures. And it displaces the analytical focus on stereotypes that has hamstrung assessments of television's depiction of African Americans, concentrating instead on the ways in which African Americans and their political collectives have actively shaped that depiction to advance civil rights causes. This book also challenges African American studies to pay closer and better attention to television's ongoing role in the organization and disorganization of U.S. racial politics.