Bala: [00:00:06] Welcome to the Collaborative Humanities Podcast. Jess: [00:00:10] Where four humanities scholars come together to showcase undisciplined and collaborative discourses. Marissa: [00:00:16] We believe that as humanities scholars, we are stronger when working together rather than in isolation. Kinny: [00:00:22] Today, we will share our research and discuss the threads that connect our work. Bala: [00:00:27] So sit back, breathe, and allow us to introduce ourselves. Jess: [00:00:37] Un Accueille chaleureux à tous! Warm greetings to all. I'm Jessica, a PhD candidate in religious studies and conservation science at Arizona State University. I'm very passionate about exploring the complex relationships between communities and wildlife in Southern Africa. I work in Botswana, where I study human elephant coexistence, so I follow Botswanan conservationists out in the field where they help communities answer questions like, “What do you do when an elephant approaches your taxi? How do you keep elephants from raiding your garden?” The hope is that these conversations will help build a future where people and elephants in Botswana can coexist peacefully. And in doing this research, I came across a really surprising connection between humans and elephants. Out in the field, I learned that elephants are matriarchal, so one female leads and guides the herd. In the anthropological archives, I learned that before colonization, many African cultures were also matrilineal, so property, cultural and spiritual values; these were all fostered and passed down through the matrilineal line. The Bantu speaking people were the most prominent matrilineal group. For thousands of years. They populated an astounding two thirds of sub-Saharan Africa, an area larger than the US, India, and China combined. One of their key values and philosophies is called “ubuntu,” which means “I am because you are. We are responsible to each other. Part of each other and interconnected with the greater cosmos.” Today, ubuntu philosophy is still a very well-known ethic across Africa. And I really felt this during my semester at the University of Cape Town. Young students from all over the continent welcomed me into this sense of community and spirit of care for each other. Many African scholars today propose that the future of decolonized social and environmental justice can only happen through an ubuntu ethic. And so, the aim of my research is to foreground conversations like these that help us all deepen our connections with each other and the natural world. Kinny: [00:03:12] Håfa adai. Guahu si Kinny Torre. Hello, my name is Kinny Torre. I'm a CHamoru PhD student from the island of Guåhan or Guam. I'm attending the University of Utah as a student in the Department of Communication and a graduate fellow in Pacific Studies. As a scholar, I try to highlight the brilliance of indigenous peoples. For instance, how are indigenous peoples developing blockchain technologies or cryptocurrencies? How do we celebrate and innovate our culture through indigenous punk festivals? And overall, what is the significance of these deep generational stories that are told through our bodies? In other words, I study indigenous social movements. I'm particularly interested in the stories of the Pacific, because I find that our histories are often overlooked in the Academy and the media, which is unfortunate because I believe they can inform indigenous sovereignty movements globally. For instance, over the summer I attended Prugråman Sinipok, an adult CHamoru language camp. It was significant because the CHamoru language is endangered. But- But through the camp, I learned that language is everywhere in the land, in our spirits, in our food. I was told there's a cultural renaissance happening back on the island right now, through the realization that there is a shared hunger for CHamorus and other indigenous peoples to become more rooted in their culture, and that there are so many different ways to contribute to one's people. In an article written by Teresa McCarty, a professor at UCLA, and some of her colleagues, they tell a story of a Hawaiian language teacher under the pseudonym of PUA, who tells their students that, "You should know the name of the wind where you live." Put differently, we are part of culture, which is necessarily a part of nature, and we make communion with both through our language. Marissa: [00:05:11] ¡Buenas! ¿Qué tal? Me llamo Marissa. Hi! My name is Marissa Adrianna Hull, and I'm a PhD student at UC Riverside studying the intersections of gender and disability in the nineteenth century United States. My research specifically focuses on d/Deaf women and their contributions to the creation of American Sign Language and Deaf education. I am passionate about history. More specifically, I am passionate about uncovering the stories of disabled people that have been obscured by time and society. Using alternative archival methods that expose and challenge deficits in the archive, in scholarship, and in popular memory. I am passionate about the Deaf community and its culture. I'm also passionate about my family, my partner, my friends, and my dogs, Nugget and Cori. I study d/Deaf women because I'm interested in how they have contributed to history, how those stories have been recorded and remembered, and how all of this affects the dynamics of our world today. My research on d/Deaf women began with my undergraduate senior thesis. I wanted to combine my interests in the Deaf community and in nineteenth century US history by focusing on the creation of American Sign Language and the beginnings of Deaf education in 1817. However, most scholarship about this topic focuses on only men with very little reference to any women. I had a gut feeling that this couldn't be accurate, and I was right. As soon as I began digging deeper, I started finding evidence of d/Deaf women's contributions in letters, journals, and paintings that many past scholars never bothered to look at. Most people think that silence is inherent to my research, and it is, but not in the way you might think. d/Deaf people are not silent. In fact, my d/Deaf friends are the loudest people I know. The silence that is important to my research is not a lack of sound, but a lack of representation. Through archival research, I have found that d/Deaf women are difficult to track in the archive, not because their contributions are unimportant, but because they have been perceived to be unimportant. Through my research, I want to advocate for the Deaf and disabled communities by telling the stories of the d/Deaf historical subjects that came before them, highlighting the voices and signs of the d/Deaf women who have been marginalized in archival spaces, in scholarship, and in popular memory. My hope is that better and more widespread understanding of the intersectional identities that contributed to the creation of American Sign Language and the development of Deaf education in the United States, will encourage scholars to include more of the silenced voices and signs of others, making these stories more accessible to those both in and out of the Deaf and disabled communities. Bala: [00:07:52] Vanakkam, Vaazhga Valamudan. Hello, I am Bala, a Ph.D. student in crosscultural musicology at the University of Santa Cruz, California. My work focuses on oral traditions of music across the Indian subcontinent, with an emphasis on sacred songs, South Asian performing traditions, spiritual traditions, caste, and sexuality. My praxis is committed to DEI's representational and performative elements, documenting what has been marginalized, performing what has been documented and learned, and cultivating a space of critical belongingness through a kind of political performance. My outlook on life and living is steeped at the intersection of kindness, spirituality, sensuality, music, flow, and poetry. I strongly believe in the power of the collective kindness of humanity across time and space. A Sangam Tamil poem (Yaadum Oore) from 2000 years ago says everyone is my kin, every village is mine, and that death is not unheard of. The poem's last lines are most striking to me: it is bad to be awed by the great and worse to belittle the not-so-great. The poems of the saints from the spiritual traditions of the Indian Subcontinent have shaped how I engage with, make sense of, and access the world around me. There is immense hope, resilience, love, kindness, and diversity in these voices. What they speak and sing is very relevant today as we grapple with global problems of hate, violence, and genocide. As I speak, this body has found a home in Santa Cruz, California, while inhabiting multiple homes across, thanks to beloved friends and families, in Hyderabad, Punjab, Pune, Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore, London, Paris, Mexico City, Berlin, Xalapa, New York, New Jersey, and New Orleans. An elder from Mumbai says, “tum toh duniya ke ho” she said (you belong to the world). A friend’s mother recently told me that in a world where people are busy creating boundaries, my work tries to erase them and make space for love. These words of kindness inspire me and remind me to thank all my teachers, gurus, family, and friends who have made ‘me’ possible. I sing forth in joy and warmth as I pursue my Ph.D. A question I keep returning to is about how I think of inhabiting this life-world is “Where do you know from?” Jess: [00:10:22] When our group sat down to design this podcast, we looked for common threads in our work shared interests, values and aims. How we connect with ourselves, our histories, each other and the natural spaces we inhabit. And we're going to discuss these themes together. Bala: [00:10:41] Before we jump into the themes, let's play a quick game of contact where two of us say out loud phrases from our research. The count of three and let's see if we match. Let's go with Jessica and Kenny. On the count of three. Three. Two. One. Kinny: [00:10:59] Decolonization. Jess: Community. Bala: [00:11:02] Okay, now for the second round. And, uh, three, two and one. Kinny: [00:11:08] Stories. Jess: Nature. Bala: [00:11:09] Last chance. Three, two and one. Jess: [00:11:13] Togetherness. Kinny: People. Bala: [00:11:15] How lovely. People and togetherness. The next is me and Marissa. Marissa: I’m ready. Bala: So, uh, three. Two, one. Bala: Archive. Marissa: Movement. Oh. Bala: Second try. Three. Two. One. Bala: [00:11:30] Music. Marissa: Silence. Bala: [00:11:30] Three. Two. One. Marissa: Body. Bala: Community. Bala: Community and body. Interesting. Kinny and Marissa, are you both ready? Marissa: [00:11:39] I'm ready. We got this, Kinny. Bala: [00:11:41] All right. Three. Two. One. Marissa: [00:11:43] Community. Kinny: Tattoos. Bala: [00:11:45] Three. Two. One. Marissa: [00:11:47] Skin Kinny: People. [Laughs] Bala: [00:11:50] Last chance. Three. Two. One. Kinny: [00:11:54] Humans. Marissa: [00:11:55] Humans. Kinny: We did it! [Laughs] Marissa: [00:11:59] We did! We didn't cheat at all. Bala: [00:12:02] Okay. Three. Two. One. Last chance. Marissa: [00:12:05] Last. Oh, are we going again? Bala: [00:12:07] Well you cheated. Kinny: No, we didn’t. Bala: [00:12:08] Three. Three. Two. One. Kinny: [00:12:10] Humans. Marissa: People. Kinny: We can't go back. Bala: I mean yeah. Kinny: [00:12:16] Bala and Jess. Bala: [00:12:17] Three. Two. One. Music. Jess: Body. Bala: [00:12:20] Three. Two. One. Spirituality. Jess: Sensuality. Bala: Oooooh. Bala: [00:12:26] That's a good way to segue into how we start our themes. And, uh, Kinny, over to you. Kinny: [00:12:32] This game was cool because despite the divergences that we have, there's a lot of interconnectedness in our research. It reminds me of the CHamoru principle of “poksai”, or kinship. The literal translation, it means to “nurture.” And traditionally it is invoked during an adoption and extends conceptions of family beyond family bloodlines. In other words, it's a principle of interconnectedness despite difference. One thing that we thought that relates to this is language as a means of knowing and being in the world, which is part of the reason why each of us introduced ourselves in the languages of our culture. For instance, in English, the word “emergency” typically means something that is dire, urgent, and needs to be addressed immediately. In contrast, in Spanish, “emergencia” can mean emergency, but it can also mean “emergence” or “the possibility for change.” Bala: [00:13:24] Oh. Kinny: [00:13:25] In the CHamoru language, I know it's cool! In the CHamoru language, “tataomo’na” literally translates to “the people of before” or “our ancestors.” However, that- that word “mo’na” or the modifier can mean “before you in time,” but also “before you in person.” In other words, our ancestors exist in the past, but are also with us in the present. With these two examples, we can glean that not only are languages ways of knowing, but the process of translation and language itself are implicated by power. Bala: [00:13:57] Absolutely. Jess: Very powerful. Bala: [00:13:59] Yeah. Also, the way you translate, I think, uh, I go back to this example with my colleagues and students sometimes where many of the Greek novels were translated into English predominantly by men, and the ways they have translated words such as “mad” or “powerful,” especially for male characters, has always been into, uh, words like “powerful” or “brave”. And the same Greek words that just been translated for women has been to something like “mad” or something. So basically, also, the gender in translation plays such a big part of how you kind of rethink of history and, uh, how do you represent history, represent queerness, represent genders, represent sexualities, right? Kinny: [00:14:41] Yeah. Jess: [00:14:42] And it's definitely present, in particularly in sacred texts, when those are translated. And I'm thinking of the Bible and how the word “sin” has been used as a translation for “hamartia” in Greek. The term means shooting an arrow at a mark but falling short. You didn't quite make it. You tried. Bala: [00:15:00] Mmm ah. Jess: [00:15:02] And to translate that to sin has caused a lot of challenges for many different peoples who have been subjugated as a result. Marissa: [00:15:09] I immediately thought of American Sign Language and how there's a lot less signs than there are English words. So, a lot of signs, depending on the context, can change meaning. But I also kind of want to go back to this gendered piece, as far as how language is gendered. That's another thing that happens in American Sign Language. So, a lot of signs that are associated with females or with women are around the mouth or the chest, but most signs that are associated with male or men are close to the head. So, it's really interesting, this implicit meaning that's being made as far as mind versus what - Bala: [00:15:49] Body. Marissa: - many people would consider nurture. So, it's super interesting to see how these things not only exist in written texts and spoken language, but also in manual languages as well. Kinny: [00:16:02] Yeah, I love that because it seems that across our examples that language is a relational way of being, that according to people like Jamaica Osorio, a Hawaiian scholar, is a way to contain certain people, certain cultures, certain languages, certain bodies, but also as a place of growth in ways that can be really, really great for society, but also very harmful. Bala: [00:16:25] When we think of language and speech and dreams, what we kind of sometimes miss is silence. Marissa: [00:16:36] I really would like to kind of focus on this idea of silence. This is, um, a theme that we have really, uh, come back to a lot with our discussions. Typically, when we think of silence, we think of it very literally as a deficit of sound. However, silence can mean so much more. For my own research, when I think of silence, I don't think of a lack of sound or voice. I think of a lack of representation. An example being this phrase of “silence in the archive.” This refers to a deficit of historical evidence, which is quite common for members of intersectional communities that have been and continue to be silenced during their lifetimes. Being silenced means that you have- have had power stripped from you. But being silent can be powerful in and of itself. And as scholars, silence can be a privilege. We get to choose which stories we tell, how we tell them, and when we tell them. And this kind of connects back to what we were talking about earlier. As far as the power in language, there's also power in silence. Bala: [00:17:35] So one of my professors said, even the thought that I could be silent is a privilege of your class, of your caste, of all the spaces, locations you belong to. Jess: [00:17:46] In Botswana, spending time with conservation scientists, social scientists from the University of Botswana. They're primarily women who go out into the communities and work with them. And - and so we have silenced people who are invisible to those in power and even those that are trying to help. And so that's part of my research, too, is bringing their voices to the forefront to say, but they're the most important people in this scenario because they live there. Kinny: [00:18:14] I love this discussion because we're pointing to the ways in which silence is a way that people are excluded from political decision-making processes. And I think that what some of my work does is kind of expand this thing, to think about silence as a spectrum. Where all everything from silent to speaking has a meaning that's attached to it, which means that silence and the invocation of silence, or perhaps rather the refusal to speak, is also a political act. For me that's drawn from this person named Audra Simpson, who is a Mohawk scholar who writes about this thing that she calls an ethnographic refusal, which is this idea that ethnographethnographers, when they work with indigenous communities, they do not disclose sacred stories of people of the land, of who they have just for the sake of getting a new line on their CV. In other words, not only is a silence a way in which people can be disempowered, but it's actually a way to further empower people further sovereignties and they work together. Bala: [00:19:13] Yeah, I've read some research about also the - there is a Hindi term that says “adhikaaratva,” or “the permission to even know” and uh, I've read some research and uh, to access histories of some communities in - on a website, there is a quiz that you have to pass, and you have to know enough to even be able to access that. And I think that is such an interesting way to kind of hold information kindly, gently, but also safeguard it in some form. Marissa: [00:19:49] Yeah. I really appreciate that, Kinny, you brought up this idea of silence as power, silence as resistance. This reminds me of the Works Progress Administration interviews. So, during the 1930s, the WPA hired people to interview formerly enslaved people in an effort to archive oral histories of enslavement. The interviewees, traumatized by the violence of both enslavement and Jim Crowe and wary of retaliation, were suspicious of the mostly white interviewers. So, in some of the interviews, things were either left out completely or were alluded to by using traditional African American storytelling elements, an example being the interviewees referring to their enslavers as monsters or ghosts rather than actual people. Not outright saying that that's what was happening but using this imagery as a veil. And I think that that also kind of connects to this idea of silence as not only a protective measure, but also silence as pushing against power, too. Kinny: [00:20:48] Yeah, I, I love that because then speaking, being silenced and refusing to speak are all political acts. But also, then who has the power of interpretation upon what all of that means? Which to me is a sign that that's about relationships and relationality. Jess: [00:21:08] And that brings us to Bala's theme. So, I will pass the torch to you, Bala. Bala: [00:21:14] Thank you. Ah, let's take a moment of silence. Bala: [00:21:21] I'm still not able to move on. But yes, I will, because there's so much to unpack, I guess, about the archive and the silence, because I keep thinking about, uh, one of my advisors work on, uh, how - how do you, for example, center sexuality in the Colonial Archive, especially in India. And then but it's also so present in its absence, like a present absence. Kinny: [00:21:41] Mhm. Bala: [00:21:42] Uh, I also think about the breath a lot in my work in terms of the labor of breath, who gets to decide how we breathe when we sing. That actually moves on to the ideas of permission for the, uh, to the ideas of modernity, to the ideas of how we condition our bodies, how we condition communities. So, my primary work is on South Asian spiritual traditions and how, uh, there were paths to the divine through song poetry and the emotive register of love. And many saint musician poets who I work with actually, through centuries came from subordinated caste and class groups and provided, uh, heterodox and in some cases anti-hierarchical spiritual orientations and through ecstatic song found social mobility. In this case now then, singing the sacred song and restaging the queer story in performance is when I straddle binaries between the languorous musicality of the song and the affective reality of the story, a movement across which musicologist and scholar Eve Sedgwick calls “queer movement across.” I think that is a good segue into this theme that we speak about community, relationships, connecting, movement, sensuality, body. How do all of these themes inform your work? Kinny: [00:23:09] I really am inspired by the writing of Franz Fanon on decolonization, where he writes a lot about how decolonization may be a violent process because the colonizer will not give up the home that they made out of violence. But it's also a loving process because decolonization requires an intersubjective understanding of the self. In other words, I cannot be liberated unless the people on the lowest margins are also liberated, which is why it's a chaotic process of freedom. Bala: [00:23:38] You're not free until all of us are free. Kinny: [00:23:40] Exactly. Which is why I think that when put in conversation with indigenous feminisms, which discuss the way that power dynamics, heteropatriarchy, white supremacy all work together upon to further settler colonialism, that in order for us to understand who we are, we can only understand ourselves in relation to the world around us, the people of all beings. Jess: [00:24:02] I think about a phrase that came from the Aboriginal people of Australia where they said, “If you are here to help us, we are not interested. But if you are here because you understand that your fate is tied to my fate, then let's get to work.” Bala: [00:24:20] Mhm. That's so powerful. Yeah. Because, uh, I'm just reminded of a lot of the Congress, uh, and the lawmakers here in Santa Cruz City Council, which is actually the land of the Awaswas-speaking Uypi tribe, where we sit and work and live in this life world. And then those people are like something happening 7000 miles away. How is it connected to us? And they were voting to not pass a resolution for a cease fire in Gaza. And then we were like, “You cannot be feminist, you cannot be queer, you cannot be anti-caste. You cannot be decolonial, you can't be anti-racist. You can't be transformative and be silent on Palestine.” And they are so interconnected our worlds. We are together in the struggle for liberation, but we bring our own particular, specific life experiences, baggages, privileges, marginalized, uh, experiences, everything. [00:26:00] Kinny: [00:25:17] Yeah. And I think that as we're feeling the push and pull of our own bodies and our experiences in this podcast, I think this is a great segue into our final theme. Bala: [00:25:28] Yeah. Jessica. Jess: [00:25:29] This important thread we found of the idea of deepening our connection. And it really does interweave throughout each of our research projects. How can we deepen our connections human, nonhuman and otherworldly? And where can we collaborate to support voices that connect us through language, music, our bodies, the archives, through our hands? Art, activism. These are questions that are probably the deepest way that our research projects, though they were separate and individual, have this connection of “How do we do this? And how do we stay connected to each other and ourselves through the process?” Marissa: [00:26:17] This idea of, like, community and the body connecting and, um, how do we deepen those connections? And a really large emphasis within the disability community is kinship. Kind of this idea - we we've heard of it with chosen families with like the queer community. Right? And so, this is it also carries over into the disability community, into the Deaf community, where a lot of the experiences that individual disabled people are experiencing, not very many people outside of those communities can understand. And so, it's - it's just this idea of relying on one another, but then also recognizing that you may have limits and it's okay to express those boundaries and those limits. I think that as far as deepening our connections with our research projects, and this is also something that I struggle with as a historian, because really the field of history has struggled with this idea of objectivity. If you had a personal connection with your history, if you had a personal connection with your [00:28:30] historical subjects, if you were emotional in any way, you were perceived to be unprofessional and unreliable. Kinny: [00:27:24] Your bias, in fact. Yeah, you're too close. Marissa: [00:27:27] Right. Exactly, exactly. Bala: Oh, yeah. Marissa: [00:27:28] And so that's one thing that, a lot of modern historians are fighting against. So, we have people like Marisa Fuentes and Saidiya Hartman. Bala: [00:27:35] Oh, Marisa Fuentes. Marissa: I know she's not necessarily a historian, but Saidiya Hartman does this too, where she - she writes about historical subjects, but she also puts herself into it. So that's something that I've also pondered, um, with my own research is how do I, as a person who is hearing, who isn't d/Deaf, but is fluent in American Sign Language and is a peripheral part of the Deaf community? How do I figure myself into this research without crossing any boundaries, without speaking over voices, and while still, you know, still having like a solid reputation in the field of history. How do I do all of that? Jess: [00:28:16] I think about, uh, Victor Turner and the liminal space and liminality of these places we inhabit in between worlds. And that really is the task of our of our role as researchers is to be in and as a contemplative and thinking about contemplative traditions, whether it's Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, etc. this place of non-duality, where we're sort of holding a place where perhaps two things that appear to be at odds, in my case, religion and science can coexist somehow and don't have to necessarily be reconciled. That - Bala: [00:28:55] Oh yeah. Jess: - in doing this research, we're staying in this liminal space of, well, I don't know how much I'm bringing to this, but let's talk about it and position ourselves there. Bala: [00:29:08] Yeah, because, uh, thanks, Jessica for that. And, Marissa, I think at some point, both of you were talking about how, uh, by the way, I love Marisa Fuentes's work. Dispossessed Lives is one of my favorite books. I don't know if you - Marissa: [00:29:20] I quote her – Bala: All the time. Marissa: She's in every single one of my writings. Bala: [00:29:24] Oh God. Dispossessed Lives. Must read it if you haven't read it. Marissa: [00:29:28] Absolutely. Bala: But also, Jess and Marissa. I was thinking about self-care and self-love and what, uh, that was so evident in both of your work about. I always think about how Audre Lorde says about, uh, you know, caring for oneself is not self-indulgence, but it is self-preservation. And that that itself, self-preservation itself is an act of political warfare. And then you go fight the world. Kinny: [00:29:54] One thing that I appreciate from this group that's called the Red Nation, and they recently launched a book called the Red Deal, which is about, um, climate change from indigenous perspectives, is that there need to be economies of care, because I think that's so much of our caretaking goes upon, particularly individuals, typically people of color, typically women. There should be a system in place that we can care for each other. Kinny: [00:30:17] When I think about my dream for the Humanities Podcast or what I look about in the future, I really want to think about ways in which we can work together and care for one another in ways that affirm our differences, that make them strengths. Bala: [00:30:30] That's lovely. Jess: I love that. Bala: Yeah. Jess: [00:30:32] That's beautiful. I think about the future of our collaborative Humanities Podcast as a place where we can have these conversations, particularly between fields that may not be in conversation and find those threads, those links. I think that's been one of the most enriching aspects of working with all of you and feeling like we really are finding places where we connect. Marissa, what's your future dream project? Marissa: [00:31:02] I really like this idea of bringing in people for, for a group project. I think that we as humanities scholars, and particularly as scholars that study marginalized communities, um, our work is inherently interdisciplinary. So, we're pulling from different fields and different scholars. And what I would like to see is just more, more outreach, I guess, like more connections with other people. There's a lot of limits to who you can have in your projects. Um, I'd like to see a lot of that come down and a lot more flexibility with who we can have involved, um, maybe even people that aren't in academia. Right? So being able to pull from different communities to really bring in the best piece of work that you possibly can. Bala: [00:31:52] Thanks, Marissa. I think a lot of what Marissa said also resonates with me. One part of it is that a lot of the work that we do as scholars, academics, how much of it is actionable? And the other thing, uh, is legibility to more practice based, [00:33:30] uh, work in academia because we are so married to the written word, can't it be a musical performance? Can it be a film? Can it be an album? And that is a world which I dream about. Bala: [00:32:22] We have all learned so much from each other, and I'm sure our listeners have. Jess: [00:32:27] And I hope that we've brought a small example of what it looks like for a collaborative humanities project to emerge outside of our group. Marissa: [00:32:36] I wanted to thank all of you for this experience. I - I came into it honestly really anxious and - and not sure what it was going to look like, who I was going to be grouped with. And I can't stress how grateful I am for you all because this has been just a wonderful experience. All: [00:32:56] Thank you for listening. Bala: [00:32:59] It has been a pleasure to be with you all today. Jess: [00:33:03] We hope that our conversation was as enriching for you as it was for us. Marissa: [00:33:09] And we hope you'll join us as our next guest on the All: [00:33:11] Collaborative Humanities Podcast! Kinny: [00:33:15] We designed this podcast for everyone. In this workshop, you are our audience, so we will leave you with the CHamoru principle of “Inagofli'e”, which means “friendship” or “I see the good in you, to see the good in me and the worlds that we share together.” All: [00:33:33] Yay! [Laughs] Bala: [00:33:35] The wonderful music you heard at the beginning and through [00:35:00] the podcast is by Jessica Beaudette. Sound, editing, cover art, and transcripts are by Bala Raghavan. Kinny: [00:33:48] Kinny Torre. Marissa: Marissa Hull. Jess: Jessica Beaudette.