Where the Border Wall Meets the Sea (Blog Post)

The following is an example of a blog post written for The Center for Public Humanities. The original post can be found here: https://humanitiesinplace.wordpress.com/2018/11/19/where-the-border-wall-meets-the-sea/

During the last presidential election, one of President Trump’s favorite mantras was: “Build the wall,” a promise to construct a physical barrier between the U.S./Mexico border. But as I learned in my first year seminar on human migration, a border wall already exists along the most populated sections of the border. Inspired by my class, and armed with insatiable curiosity, I decided to visit the place where the already existing border wall ends. So I went to Mexico.  

The drive from San Diego to the border was no longer than 30 minutes. When I arrived, I parked in a crowded parking lot and followed the crowds toward the port of entry. The path into the border at San Ysidro Crossing was nothing more than a wide sidewalk. At the mouth, long triangular slivers of chain link fence pierced the sky and leaned toward each other menacingly. The fence itself was a at least 20 feet tall and gleamed with newness. At the end of this cattle chute were two large turnstiles with a gigantic sign over top: MEXICO. Truth be told, I was excited and nervous. I had no idea what waited for me on the other side. I wandered along with my fellow cows through a line or two, and after an hour wait, I emerged on the other side of the border.

For just a couple dollars, I caught an uber and directed it toward “El muro en la playa” or the wall on the beach. As we drove, we followed the wall for a few miles on our right side. It was a rusty, sheet metal barrier on the Mexican side. On the American, a paved, double chain link fence with barb wire wrapped around the top in an eternal spiral. I thought that it was apparent which side valued its security more. We descended into a valley and I examined the stacks of houses towering above us on our left. To our right, the border wall dove into the valley and climbed the mountain like a tightened velcro strip. In a few accessible spots, the wall was tagged with graffiti. One tag read, “Todos somos migrantes.” We are all migrants.  

It’s true. Human migration is a natural part of life. On a micro-scale, children grow and move out of their family homes, perhaps to another town or state. We pass between countries and take up residence in safer areas. War, famine, starvation, and conflict push us out of our comfort zones. So we migrate. Whether it be Syrians fleeing the destruction of their nation or my great-great Grandparents leaving Ireland because there was not enough food to go around, humans migrate.

As my quick and convenient migration came to a close, I hopped out of my uber at the beach and took a moment to absorb the sights. To my left, families vacationed on the beach, laughing and splashing as mariachi groups wandered the sand, serenading those who could afford it. It reminded me of the vacations my own family would take to Ocean City, where we would play and listen to music. The beach seemed to be an infinite horizon up and down the East Coast. Here, the beach was cut short by a vertical wall. The section of the wall closest to me had art deliberately painted onto the rusty surface. Further down, the wall shifted to simple black beams as it promptly ended 200 feet into the water. I could picture myself swimming around it.

A small line of people had formed at an especially wide break between the beams. One at a time, they would walk up and stick an arm through the wall, all the way to the shoulder. They’d wave at the U.S. Border Patrol jeep parked a few hundreds yard away. For a moment, these tourists had technically “crossed” the border. Each inch of their arm a quantifiable test of the Border patrol’s legalism. I felt tempted to join, but a moment’s contemplation held me back; I could legally get back across in under an hour. A group of men stood and smoked, leaning onto the bars and looking at the distant San Diego. Closer to the water, a group of children splashed and looked through the bars as the tide washed up the U.S. side and drained out on the Mexican side. Seagulls sang and passed freely overtop of it. Clams had made their bed along the frame of the wall and disappeared into the surf.

Nature clearly had no feelings about this rusting wall. The passage of nature was undeterred by the American construction. But what fascinated me most was how the humans around the wall chose to interact. Whether it was leaning on it as a means of respite, contemplation, or to throw sand from one side of another, the wall acted as a magnet to those around it. You simply could not not touch it. It was just a wall. Wrought out of iron or steel and plunged into the sand. But it symbolized and symbolizes so much more. This wall was built to keep people out, but the spaces in between its metal bars allow viewers to look and dream anyway. You can slow movement, but you can never stop a vision.

This rotting metal monstrosity does not represent the founding myth of the American experiment.  America was founded by migrants fleeing from religious oppression. Migration has been at the heart of the American dream since the very beginning. Enshrined on the American Statue of Liberty is a poem that reads, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.” Sure, countries should defend their borders. But the rhetoric of a wall which we strengthen or build to keep certain people out, rejects our declaration of acceptance of huddled masses. As Kirk Semple reported in his New York Times piece, an overly-politicized caravan of migrants arrived this week at the same port of entry in Tijuana that I so freely passed through. Comprised of mostly families, these migrants flee systemic violence and poverty in Honduras. With so few options, their mental calculus has left them with this one option. Now, they are applying for asylum. Some will most likely receive it. They will all wait longer than my half hour drive back to San Diego.

As I think back on my experience in this place, I realize that a pursuit of the common good requires us to look past the walls that we build around our own lives. We must see past our friend circles, communities, and invisible lines which divide us. These false divisions that we create only serve exclusivity and they certainly do not foster the good of all. Sometimes, these divisions are border lines. The common good of humanity cannot possibly be defined by lines drawn in the sand. It is up to us to wash them away.

As I stared through the wall at a twinkling San Diego, miles away, I realized that I will never know what it means to press into that cold, oxidized metal and know that is the obstacle keeping me from safety or separating me from my loved ones. My return home required a walk through a well-lit hallway and a glance at my passport from a border agent. The process took 30 seconds. For some of our neighbors, this process of admittance can take a lifetime or it may not happen at all.

I can only imagine the feeling.

Academic Composition Example

Nathan Simms

American Fear of War and Burke’s Representative Anecdote

Introduction

Ever since its advent, film has been a byproduct and a conduit of the culture into which it is released. Each country and culture has its own societal fears, whether it be poverty, sickness, or war; and these fears often emerge in film and other visual media. From horror to science fiction, films must explore themes that are representative of the culture in order to create a connection with its audience. Oftentimes, the greater cultural implications of a film are not able to be fully understood until they can be looked upon in retrospect, but their value as representations of culture is no less diminished in the context of their release. This paper sets out to answer the question “How do American movies represent contemporary American fears of war and what do those films model as a solution?” through an analysis of Director Denis Villeneuve's Arrival.

Released in November of 2016, Arrival is a science-fiction film which follows the story of a linguistics Professor, Dr. Banks, who is hired by the US military when mysterious alien ships suddenly appear at 12 different locations across the planet. Her job is to make contact with the aliens inside and eventually ask what their purpose on earth is. The film was nominated for eight Academy Awards, garnering one for best sound editing, and earned over 200 million dollars worldwide. The film opened to a positive reception and was especially noted for being a science-fiction film that appealed to a wider audience. One film reviewer appropriately labeled Arrival “a movie about aliens for people who don't like movies about aliens” (Lansky).

Arrival was filmed in Montreal, Canada, and was directed by french-canadian Villeneuve, but its placement in the United States and portrayal of American politics makes it a perfect representative of American culture and societal worries. American media is really like media from any other country: what is popular is a good indicator of what weighs on the public’s conscious, and the themes covered in Arrival are no exception. The film, which at its most basic element is about the reduction of uncertainty, was released three days after the contentious American Presidential election. Released into this context, Arrival has a lot to say about American treatment of uncertainty and fear to great effect. The issues represented in Arrival, specifically pertaining to communication, are continually relevant in the light of President Trump’s penchant to conduct sensitive, diplomatic discourse via social media. I intend to show how Arrival represents the fears of war that remain in contemporary America and what actions the film prescribes that we take.

Literature Review

When considering how American fear of war is represented in films, one must start with the most televised event in contemporary American history: the attacks on 9/11. Following the attacks on September 11th, 2001, the footage of the twin towers was broadcasted globally and watched by an audience of almost two billion (Cilento 121). The attacks had a profound effect on all aspects of American life, eventually pushing the US to invade Iraq in 2003. As a byproduct, films that followed the attacks began to reflect the attitude of the nation.

In the wake of 9/11, there was widespread fear of more terrorist attacks on the US mainland. As a result, new films emerged to counteract that fear. These films were “procedural” examples of law enforcement trying to prevent terrorism, reinforcing the idea in the public mind that the government was doing all it could to protect its people. Professor Fabrizio Cilento characterizes the basis of fear in procedurals as “an imaginary of hidden global networks, potential threats, and exposure to random acts of violence” (122). Procedurals, like Zero Dark Thirty and Homeland, feature protagonists who are effectively machines that act unceasingly against the threat of global terrorism. Stripped of what makes them human, these characters are shown in conditions that the average person would never encounter, but they triumph every time. Without thought of their personal life, the agents who endeavour to save the country do so in a way that must feel real. To increase their believability, procedurals incorporate a mixture of documentary-esque footage, like news footage and fake interviews, with fictional images. This blending has the additional benefit of making the film a more complex representation of events. Thus, the stakes feel higher because we are willing to suspend disbelief and view the films as a type of simulation of what our government would do in the same instance. In essence, the procedurals that followed 9/11 were impacted by the attacks and their effect on American society, but they attest little to American fear of war in general, opting instead to focus on fear of terrorism.

In the same vein, Professor Delphine Letort of the University of Maine, France, wrote that, “…the 9/11 terrorist attacks aroused an increased awareness about invisible enemy combatants operating within and without the country…” (153). This falls in line with Professor Cilento’s reasoning about the paranoia of the American people. The paranoia, and accompanying anger, of the country contributed to the support of the passing of the Patriot act which granted broad rights to governmental agencies to ensure national security. Letort agrees that Homeland is an example of the American desire to stop terroristic acts before they occur, but she adds that it also represents a sub-genre of conspiracy media (154). In a way, Homeland feeds into the idea that these “shadow networks” of terrorists exist and are a threat, but the narrative continually reinforces that these plots will be stopped by the government, at any cost. Additionally, Letort’s writing provides the example of Jack Bauer from 24 as a man who is in a “race against time” against terrorism (157).

In “Atomic Housewives: Shutter Island and the Domestication of Nuclear Holocaust,” Professor Kathleen McClancy uses Shutter Island as a confrontation to trends of “displacement of social and political fears by the invocation of the nuclear family” in post-September 11th American film (71). Shutter Island follows a protagonist who must confront his familial realities following World War II, and it is a clear thematic departure from the procedurals that followed 9/11. McClancy postulates that the film effectively tries to explain the rhetoric of the American war on terror by comparing it to American intervention in World War II (71); it is not just a war on terror, but a war of good vs. evil. Thus, the war on terror, and any action taken to ensure American security, was deemed as fully right in the eyes of the public. The rhetoric of war justification runs throughout the film but it also departs from the aforementioned procedurals by showing the familial relationship of the protagonist. He is not just a machine who must race against the clock, he is a complicated man with factors that are more important than conspiracy theories.

Speaking to complex characters, PhD student Nina Seja problematized the portrayal of terrorists in post-9/11 media by taking Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantánamo Bay as a case study. The film itself is a comedy which shows the titular characters go to and escape from America’s most notorious prison. Unlike more serious films, Harold and Kumar takes a humoristic approach to detention in Guantanamo and problematizes the representation of terrorists, and muslims, as single-minded purveyors of destruction. Seja discusses the body of film work which explores the idea of terrorists in “contentious spaces” and how barely-legal treatment of humans by the American government impacts our society.

All of the aforementioned articles point to 9/11 as a turning point in American fear of war and specific people groups. The attacks left Americans wanting revenge against an unseen enemy in addition to a feeling of national security. Procedurals fulfilled the craving for justice that the American people so desperately needed, but did little to represent the fears that the American layman had, nor what hoi polloi could do to fight against outside conspiracies. Despite the wealth of literature on the effect of terrorism on American society and film, there is a clear gap in discussing how American films represent the fears of war in contemporary American society. I will bridge that gap using Burke’s theory of representative anecdote.

Representative Anecdote

Based in dramatism, Burke’s theory of representative anecdote postulates that literature, in all forms, help humans to confront their fears and provides receivers of literature with “equipment for living” (Brummet 161). Thus, literature is often representative of the collective fears of a society. Professor Barry Brummett extended the theory in “Burke’s Representative Anecdote as a Method in Media Criticism” and provides the framework through which I will analyze the film Arrival. Brummett asserts that the immanent representative anecdote in discourse— his term for literature —is a lens through which a critic analyzes a communication artifact. In terms of mass media like film, the critic must find the “essence” of the discourse as it is imbued in a dramatic plot, and then apply that essence to the context of the audience (Brummet 163). The effectiveness of the discourse is measured by its ability to equip its audience with tools for coping with the presented scenario. Part of the equipment comes from the ability of the audience to watch a narrative that has a clear beginning, middle, and ending, which allows the audience to mentally apply the narrative to their own life. Brummet points out that the “completion of the discourse” in a satisfactory way is important because the audience knows that there can be a positive result (164).

As a real world example of representative anecdote, Professor Sarah Steimel observed a period of media coverage of a strike of Somali refugee workers in a factory in Nebraska. This media coverage displayed the Somali refugees as either frauds, in that they were taking advantage of a system not meant for them,  or victims of a terrible predicament. In her research, Steimel found that muslim refugees are “defined as the ‘least preferred immigrant’ because of their perceived distance from the ideal American immigration myth” (Steimel 55). To reach this conclusion, Steimel used the Burkean framework of identification and division. These labels stem from Burke’s research of dramatism and essentially state that humans constantly identify peoples who are “other” from them and then apply that identity in forms of division, separating themselves in multiple ways from the other. These divisions then directly contribute to hierarchical structures within society which have real effects on those who are on the lower rungs of the ladder. Steimel’s research presents a real life example as a representative anecdote for a larger societal issue which demonstrates the broad scope of Burke’s scholarship and research, but it is not a fictional narrative. For that, we will first examine daytime television.

An example of a narrative representative anecdote is found in “Technology as the Representative Anecdote in Popular Discourses of Health and Medicine,” an article by Harter and Japp that explores the idea of technology as a metaphor for health, arguing that technology can fix us when we are broken (Harter 416). The scholars posit that due to the representation of technology as a tool that is used in medical dramas on TV, technology is metaphor for health because it is portrayed as the cure-all for ailments or medical emergencies. The representative anecdote is then found in each predictable narrative that plays out in medical dramas. A patient in the throes of death arrives at the ER, the doctors analyze the situation, and inevitably use technology in some manner to save the patient’s life. The fear of emergent situations is well represented in these shows, but the narrative continually reinforces that technology will allow medical professionals to prevail over the medical emergency. Therefore, people can trust in medical professionals because technology fills in the gaps where humans falter. The equipment in this case is a trust in the medical technology of the day. If humans are fallible and technology is less so, it makes sense to place your trust in something without emotion. And the narratives shown in these shows reinforce the narrative solidity that the audience comes to expect from the healthcare system.

In Arrival, the clear delineation of beginning, middle, and end, is somewhat obfuscated through its plot which deals with temporalities, but it does show a clear resolution that helps to equip its audiences. Additionally, the film speaks to American fears of war and the value of communication in a world where speedy communication is prioritized at the expense of accuracy.

At the beginning of the film, twelve massive alien ships appear at random sites all across the face of the Earth. The black, almond-shaped ships hang just feet away from touching the ground, their black shapes punctuating the skyline in a way that demands attention. It then becomes Dr. Banks’ job to communicate with the aliens located therein, but the image of these gigantic, intergalactic ships merits its own discussion. When we first see the ships, sinister music is not played, but we assume from from prior films about aliens that as soon as first contact is established, the aliens will begin their sinister plot to take over the world. The ships are then viewed as the symbol of the oncoming onslaught, but that destruction does not come about in Arrival. Instead, the ships represent the political game that will play out as sovereign nations begin to decide how to treat these foreign objects. The ships are not a threat to the world, but the cautious nature of governments means that each government treats the aliens as a potential enemy combatant. As Dr. Banks begins her work, the commanding officer of the base, Colonel Weber, questions her actions, stating, “Everything you do in there (the spaceship), I have to explain to a room full of men whose first and last question is how can this be used against us” (Villeneuve). It is a simple fear of the unknown that drives each government to treat the aliens with the same suspicion as Colonel Weber. Audiences of any type can identify with the fear of the unknown, especially if they are pre-conditioned to distrust the object of the audience’s gaze. Because Brummet posits that representative anecdote comes about due to cultural context, it would be a disservice not to mention fears of the unknown that pervade American society at this very moment.

A prominent fear of the unknown that pops up in pockets of American society is a fear of people of any religion that is not Judeo-Christian. In part because of the attacks on 9/11, and further extremist behavior the world over, there can be a tendency in certain American communities to distrust anyone who is dressed in garments that would signal their involvement in Islam. Obviously, there is nothing inherently dangerous about a muslim person, but social stigma would lead others to associate extreme groups, like ISIS, with muslim people within the US. In Arrival we see the United States treat the aliens in a way that implies a fear of the unknown like that of Islam; the only assumption that the leadership makes is that the aliens are a threat. In addition, the uncertainty of looming nuclear war in American society leads to a collective societal anxiety. Both the US and North Korea have nuclear weapons and the leaders of those nations have just recently threatened to use their armadas against each other. Any sign of aggression will be treated in turn. Here is where the idea of identification and division comes into play. Because they expect them to be a threat, the governments of the world identify them as a threat and act accordingly. In Arrival, but Russia and China treat the alien vehicles as signs of war and China eventually declares war on the aliens as the film nears its climactic moments. However, the film eventually shows that these fears are misplaced. The aliens have only come to offer their language, a non-temporally dictated language which allows those fluent to see into their future and past. This gift is almost missed as miscommunication occurs between the aliens and the nations of the world, resulting in the climactic scenes.

Thus, the anecdote that Arrival provides is based in the instances of communication and miscommunication that are shown. One of the biggest instances of “miscommunication” in the film, occurs when a low ranking Captain decides to take actions into his own hands. After listening to a conspiracy theorist radio host and feeling pressure from a scared wife at home, Captain Marks decides to plant a bomb inside of the meeting chamber in the alien ship and kill the aliens inside. His decision is reactive and ill-informed, two qualities which have often contributed to some of history’s largest mistakes. When the bomb goes off, the aliens save Dr. Banks and her coworker who are trapped inside, but one of the aliens dies in the process. Although it was not the official stance of the US, an act of war was essentially committed by the US and they must deal with the consequences. Captain Marks is a realistic representation of what can be expected when we react quickly to a situation with the wrong information. The consequence is often worse than the initial problem, leaving the solution more difficult to locate.

This is where the positive communication element of the film comes into play. When Dr. Banks is first taken to the military base near the alien ship, she enters the comm room and sees dozens of large monitors that display representatives of every country which has an alien ship. As each country makes contact with the aliens inside, they share the information they have learned with every other country in the spirit of collaboration. Banks begins her work and eventually shares enough common vocabulary with the “heptapods” to be able to ask them for the reason that they have come to Earth. When the heptapods respond, “offer weapon” the US and other nations begin to withdraw from their sites. For a moment, their fear of the unknown is confirmed: the aliens represent some sort of threat. And because each country does not want the other to gain the upper hand, each country shuts down their communication with all the others. The resulting communication blackout exacerbates the international issues and drives China and Russia to the brink of war against the motionless ships which hang above their nations. Communication, here, is the only tool which can salvage this quickly deteriorating situation.

Communication in Arrival is presented as the panacea to war itself and the “equipment for life” that Brummett posited. Although the chief communicator in the film, Dr. Banks, is required to learn a completely fictional and fantastical language, the idea that communication can save us from war is not hard to believe or support. As tensions run high, Dr. Banks must find a way to resolve the issues between the nations and the aliens. After China’s declaration of war, the pressure is on for fellow nations to do the same against the perceived alien threat. Banks decides to take the matter into her own hands, but she does so with the correct information. Because Dr. Banks knows the language of the heptapods, she is able to look into the future and “remembers” an interaction she has 18 months into the future with the President of China. She uses the information in that interaction to convince the President of China to stand down from his declaration of war. Astoundingly, he does. It is only after the countries begin, once again, to collaborate and work together, that the alien ships fade into non-existence. With a few peals of the thunder, the ships dissolve like mist and are gone as fast as they appeared. The dissolution of the ships clearly echoes a pervasive theme: communication and collaboration result in a resolution of fear and anxiety. As the alien ships represent the uncertain future of the American people, the act of the ships disappearing shows that these fears can be resolved with level heads and clear communication.

Conclusion

Arrival was released in the US during a time of political uncertainty. A new leader was going to be elected to head our nation, and the fears accompanying that spread from socio-political uncertainty to nuclear fear. Through the lens of representative anecdote, the themes of the film represent the fear and uncertainty that the American people felt in that moment and that remains to this day. But it is not hopeless. If we equip ourselves with the full narrative, such is shown in the film, then cooler heads shall prevail in the face of madness. The film is clear in its proposal of how high-stakes, intercontinental decisions should be made: with artful and clear communication. To achieve that, we may have to start including communication experts who study how to do so in the correct manner. Arrival is so believable because we have seen nations react just as strongly to issues that are not as radical as an alien invasion of Earth. Governments are quick to act foolishly in the face of adversity, and the inclusion of experts can lower the amount of foolish, expedited decisions.

Simply stated, the best thing a citizen can do in the face of societal anxiety and fear of war, is to inform oneself and not be reactionary. In the film, those who reacted with the wrong information ended up almost ruining one of the greatest gifts to humanity. Ironically, the entire process of learning to communicate with the aliens presents a gift that is secondary to that of the magical heptapod language: communication with one another. In overcoming the alien “threat,” the nations displayed in the film had to learn how to communicate well and safely, a tool the nations of the world could very well utilize today.

In further research, I would like to see how American audiences interact with representative anecdotes. As we have seen, representative anecdotes in media act as reflections of the society from which they are produced. However, I think that there is great value in finding how American audiences interact with and learn from the anecdotes that they view. The effects of these narratives are known in theory, such as providing the audience with equipment for living, but the actual effect of these narratives in real people’s lives has been studied very little. Furthermore, a knowledge of this effect would help to propel the theory overall because it would be able to quantify that which helps audiences when they live their lives outside of the movie theater.

Contemporary American fears are represented in Arrival as a grand fear of the unknown and a greater anxiety at the threat of war. But in the anecdote of an alien visitor to earth, the film prescribes a simple solution: we must first get to know each other and then we must engage with the unknown. Each nation of the world reacts with fear to the threat just as people around the world react to the unknown. Nothing is scarier than something that one does not understand, so one should try to understand it before wallowing in fear and making a reactive decision that exacerbates the problem. In other words, talk about it.

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