Introduction
During five weeks of participant-observation between two community gardens in Glasgow, I set out to answer why participants choose to volunteer.
Finding a definition that suitably captures ‘community garden’ wasn’t easy and looking into the long history of shared gardens, and more recently, alternative food movements, provided a huge range of potential motivations (too many really). But I was fascinated by the historical context which could give rise to the phenomenon of community gardening. I knew there was a strong link between green space and health promotion, both in an urban industrial past, and in contemporary concerns about pollution. I took urban greening first, then, as a form of governance, and as a promotion of public health. However, to transform urban space into green space goes beyond health because land is so valuable in a capitalist economy.
As I learnt of Glasgow, sites left derelict in the 1960s and 1970s, as the city transitioned out of its industrial manufacturing economy, and tenement populations moved to new high rises out of the city, the freed land was left to the highest bidder for neoliberal development.
Thus, I began with the idea that participation may be framed in one of two ways: as resilience, or as resistance. These speculations were confirmed with a literature review. Gardens were pictured either as an advancement of neoliberal ideals of individually pursued wellbeing – resilience – or, as a means of reclaiming land and rights to the city – resistance. Ecological benefits were detailed in an entirely separate body of literature.
Findings
I was pleasantly surprised that my fieldwork conclusions combined and exceeded these previous narratives. I split the analyses of my ethnography between four key themes. First, I questioned ideas of neoliberalism and the role individual responsibility, encouraged as it is by the state and society, really plays in garden participation. Despite underlying ethical framings in such projects and critiques that the NHS is monetising nature, I found that although participants do choose to garden to enhance their sense of wellbeing, as many were retired, they were not usually doing so under circumstances where volunteering would much enhance their status as a neoliberal citizen.
Second, I considered gardeners’ aspirations for community and how it motivated volunteering. Despite the threat and reality of vandalism and theft in the gardens, the desire to build a better sense of community, intergenerationally, and with nature, was evidently strong, especially in the support for school and nursery groups using the gardens.
My third theme was on memory, transitions, and change, because these were the reasons people usually turned to when describing what brought them to volunteer. Gardeners often had long histories connecting them to the area, and more frequently still, gardeners were attempting to structure a new life for themselves after retirement, or had felt they needed ‘change’ for reasons such as mental health. Gardens were seen as a means to ‘do good’, while supporting individual needs for a good life.
Finally, I argued that gardens are spaces of care. Care is shared and experienced amongst gardeners and the environment they nurture. Initially, participants are motivated by a desire to socialise and live ‘a good life’; they are often recommended to go by a friend, or just like the look/sound of community gardening. Throughout fieldwork though, I sensed that what these little comments had in common was a desire for, and experience of, care – something these participants had found in the community garden. Tending to their aspiration for biodiversity and community too, meant expanding this idea of care beyond the human. Hence, I argued my findings supported ideas of an ‘ethic of care’; not just ‘caring for the environment’ – which can be a private endeavour, a political one, or both – but as a glimpse of the shared responsibility living together in a place (and on Earth) necessarily is.
Reflections
Fieldwork was fun and rewarding. Although it does add to the time pressures of the project, the ability to return to fieldnotes was invaluable to refocus my attention during write-up. This was a helpful research project, both for me, and by showing that people are motivated by the close and present world around them, rather than some abstract, the way we think about individual and collective action for climate change and ecological risk can be adapted accordingly.
What’s more, we can all relate to things like wellbeing. I think these topics make the big theoretical questions, like how much of our life is ethical compared to political, more relatable and approachable for all of us. In linking care with the good life, and detailing different perspectives on wellbeing, life’s changes and transitions, and relations to the environment, I hope to have made this research relevant to a wide audience.
When I think about my days in Resia, I think about the sparkle of fiery wooden squares thrown across the night sky on the eve of San Giovanni. I can hear the sound of Resian, and its ring in songs sung and conversations spoken. I can hear the sound of the citira and the bunkula, the traditional Resian violin and cello. I can see dancing. I can feel a butterfly resting on my hand, by the river, as an elder participant tells me about his childhood in the Valley. And I can feel the singular emotion one feels in the chest when witnessing deep fondness in the words of a person towards a special place that they call home- one that I often felt throughout my fieldwork in the Valley.
When I first arrived in Resia, a small municipality nestled in a Valley in the northeast of Italy, I knew that I wanted to explore Resian’s relationship to their culture through syncretic Resian summer rituals, as well as material and immaterial heritage. Resia, as a relatively historically secluded reality, has preserved much of the fascinating cultural and linguistic heritage of a group of Slavic people that settled in the Valley in the 6th/7th century- and has for that reason long attracted the attention of academics. Nowadays, this interest also reflects current debates within the community, as some academics have begun exploring the question of identity disputes in the Valley.
Identity is indeed a divisive and complex topic in Resia; in 2007, the inclusion of Resia among the municipalities that fall under the law of protection for Slovene linguistic minorities in the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region of Italy (38/2001) caused a division in the Valley between those that embrace that inclusion and those who would rather be protected as a minority in its own right -rather than a Slovene minority. The use of certain graphemes in the establishment of a written form of Resian and its classification as a language or a Slovene dialect has also been at the centre of these debates. The topic of identity disputes in Resia fascinated me and I was curious about their implications in questions of representation and performance of heritage and culture by the community. However, when it came to actually planning fieldwork, I had to consider that I had important limitations that came with doing short-term research, that I believed would not allow me to approach such a delicate topic with the field experience and respect it deserved.
Therefore, whilst my interest in exploring Resians’ relationship to their heritage and culture remained, my focus shifted. Whilst in the field, I realised that Resians’ perceptions and ties to their culture percolated in their recollections, their artworks, in the form of representations and care for a shared, treasured past- especially in the aftermath of the earthquake of 1976, that destroyed most of Resia and was a catalyst for the flourishing of many cultural initiatives to create, collect and preserve Resia’s heritage and the recollections of its people, to create a legacy for the future of the Valley- one that, I observed, appeared to be very vibrant and perceptual. During interviews and conversations, my participants would often engage with elements of their heritage in very sensuous ways- by making me listen to songs, showing me photo albums with pictures, and even dancing.
That is how I decided to focus on collective (folk)porous memory- one that was not merely confined to the mind but was in the body, in the senses, in rituals and objects. It was fluid, ever-shifting, and folkporous. By “folkpores” I refer to a concept I coined to describe the pores through which folk knowledge and sensory information percolate as one. We can see the relevance of folkpores in various embodied experiences of culture- relevant examples I make in my dissertation are the experience of rituals and traditional music; in Resia, young musicians have a long tradition of learning to play the citira and the bunkula by ear, by listening and looking at older musicians- without using sheet music or even necessarily knowing how to read music. This is a prime instance of folk knowledge being absorbed by the body-self in the form of sensory perception, through the folkpores. A perception that becomes re-perception, as it unites generations of Resians across time by spinning a perceptual thread that is the elemental soul of the tapestry of Resian collective (folk)porous memory.
I came back from my field enriched with sensuous scraps of this tapestry that my participants had been so kind to share with me, with so much passion and love for their homeland- with drawings of artefacts they showed me, recordings of songs, pictures from photo albums, and many anecdotes and stories I will carry with me forever -as the Valley will.
More than 2.3 billion people worldwide heavily rely on polluting fuels for cooking. If clean cooking fuel doesn't secure a permanent place on the political agenda, it is estimated that approximately 2.1 billion people will still be dependent on these fuels by 2030. The situation is particularly concerning in Cameroon, where, despite the government's endorsement of the Liquified Petroleum Gas (LPG) master plan in 2016 with the aim of increasing clean cooking adoption from 14% to 58% by 2035, the percentage of Cameroonian households currently using LPG as their primary cooking fuel falls significantly below the national goal of 58% set by the government. Hence, the need to identify factors contributing to slow adoption beyond financial and technological barriers becomes imperative.
My primary research question revolved around identifying the multifaceted challenges and dynamics, beyond financial and technological factors, that impact the transition to clean cooking fuel in Cameroon. Specifically, I focused on understanding the extent of Cameroonian knowledge about clean cooking, the cultural factors influencing fuel choice, and how gender roles and responsibilities shape cooking fuel practices and preferences.
Prior to undertaking this research, I had held the belief that cost was the sole deterrent preventing people from adopting cleaner cooking alternatives. However, my research findings revealed that finance was just one of several factors. Through the research process, I came to recognize the criticality of adopting a gender focus approach; that is how gender role and responsibilities, awareness, and cultural context play in the successful transition to clean cooking. Culture, in particular, had a profound influence on the transition, a facet that people seldom openly discussed. The research unveiled that a higher level of education did not necessarily equate to knowledge about the health, environmental, and social benefits of clean cooking. People often opted for clean cooking due to its convenience, overlooking the underlying rationale, which hindered intentional adoption from becoming widespread.
One of the most surprising discoveries was the significant impact of culture on the clean cooking fuel transition. Prior to commencing this research, as a young Cameroonian who grew up in an urban environment and valued modernization, I had held the belief that culture played a negligible role in this transition. However, my perspective underwent a transformation during the survey administration phase when respondents' answers contradicted their initial responses regarding cultural factors. This experience provided me with a fresh perspective on the importance of culture in the transition process.
Another remarkable discovery is the role of men in transitioning to clean cooking which corroborates with the study of Shrestha et al. (2021) that calls for gender participation in domestic energy and concludes on the possibilities of an effective and sustainable outcome should men be involved in energy initiatives. In as much as gender dynamics play a significant role in the clean cooking fuel transition, the involvement of men in the journey by supporting their spouses with clean cooking fuel income in household income can go a long way to uplift the gender dynamics challenge thereby facilitating the adoption of clean cooking fuel.
My major reflection and lesson is that for the clean cooking fuel transition race to be conquered, the secret is adopting a Holistic approach. Given that the transition is multifaceted, involving technical, social, economic, and environmental aspect, an interdisciplinary approach is essential to capture the complexity of the issue. For instance, my survey highlighted a strong interplay between clean cooking fuel and traditional cooking methods in households in Cameroon. Therefore, requiring a holistic approach that considers cultural factors, economic realities, gender roles and responsibilities, and environmental factors in addressing the clean cooking fuel transition challenge.
The dissertation process has compelled me to employ anthropological methodologies for dissecting various scenarios and issues. In the case of my research, clean cooking fuel transition challenge I've come to recognize the intrinsic significance of the concept of culture as a lens through which diverse contexts can be explored.
My dissertation conclusion will be most appreciated and made use of by;
Academic and Research Community: Researchers and academics might expand on the dissertation's findings to explore specific facets of Cameroon's clean cooking transition especially “Culture”. Given that the term 'culture' often appears ambiguous and lacks specificity, making it challenging to fully grasp its exact significance, it is imperative to allocate resources and support research initiatives that delve deeper into the African cooking transition. Such research can shed light on how to make the concept of 'culture' more meaningful in people's everyday lives. It can explore questions such as: What does the term 'polluting fuel' signify to the women who use it? How do they perceive the air quality in their kitchens and the resulting health issues? Or do they derive satisfaction from the meals they prepare after using these fuels? This can lead to more in-depth research, cross-disciplinary partnerships, and the creation of new knowledge on the subject.
Organisations supporting Gender Equality: Because the study evaluated the impact of gender roles and responsibilities, organisations supporting gender equality and women's empowerment may find the findings useful in establishing gender-sensitive clean cooking programmes.
Government Officials and Policymakers: The findings can be used to inform and create policies, legislation, and activities targeted at encouraging the use of clean cooking fuels in Cameroon. This includes setting goals,creating awareness compaigns programs that are culturally sensitive, providing incentives, and putting in place legislation to encourage clean cooking transitions.
Once you notice use of the word ‘detox’ in the UK, it becomes difficult to unsee. Suddenly, it’s everywhere – slapped on shampoo bottles and plastered across shelves of vitamins. My inspiration for researching detox products arose whilst I was engaged in a popular British pastime, queuing, in a pharmacy for a prescription. Lining the display next to the counter was an impressive array of detox teas, supplements, and cosmetics. In one way or another, all of these products promised to ‘cleanse’ the body and relieve complaints ranging from acne to joint pain. I wanted to know where these products had come from, and how they persist in the UK alongside biomedical treatments like vaccines. The main research question of my thesis was decided - ‘why are detox products popular in the UK?’.
When I started reading about detox products, I identified three initial reasons for their popularity in the UK. The first is the Clean Eating Movement, a diet-turned-lifestyle practice that appeared in the UK at the turn of the century. The Clean Eating Movement encourages individuals to remove processed or refined foods from their diet, due to the belief that they contain toxins humans have not evolved to break down. The second concept was an anthropological classic - Mary Douglas’ theory of purity and danger, which argues that different cultures view different substances as being ‘pure’ or ‘polluting’ for the body. The final concept was Lock and Nguyen’s plumbing model of the body, which proposes that ‘Western’ countries view the human body as an interconnected series of pipes – not too dissimilar from a domestic plumbing system.
To test whether these concepts can explain the popularity of detox products in the UK, I compared phrases each theory uses against the packaging and written advertisements of twenty detox products. These items were sampled from three high-street British health and beauty stores – Boots, Superdrug, and Holland & Barrett. In total, I found that all three theories likely influence the popularity of detox products in the UK. For instance, the Clean Eating Movement’s fear of toxins extends into the idea that toxins can accumulate within the body, leading to symptoms like acne and joint pain. Detox products provide a solution to this problem by helping the body remove these toxins. In this way, ‘toxins’ become one of the culturally specific pollutants proposed by Douglas’ theory. Lock and Nguyen’s plumbing model of the body was also addressed as detox products visualise toxic build-up in the body as blockages, in the same manner in which pipes become congested.
However, as I continued reading the detox product advertisements, I discovered three additional findings that were not visible at the start of my research. Firstly, detox products often stress how quickly their solutions work, feeding into the concern for saving time that industrialised nations like the UK often possess. Secondly, most detox products advertise their ability to help individuals lose weight – a challenge that many Brits are faced with as obesity rates continue to clim. Finally, detox products often include clinical language in their packaging, helping British consumers feel safe as we are used to trusting biomedical NHS services.
Overall, writing my thesis taught me that it is possible to research a topic that is personally important to you whilst maintaining a (fairly) objective viewpoint. If you challenge your biases before you begin research, you can produce balanced findings. As someone recovering from an eating disorder, I initially viewed detox products through an overly critical stance, as I am instinctively wary of products which portray your body or diet as somehow ‘dirty’. By acknowledging this, I was able to take a step back and view the detox products as an anthropologist. While this does not mean I am now an advocate for detox products, I believe that unpicking reasons for their popularity can help to remove some of their influence. Furthermore, as my research was fully desk and literature based, I learned that researchers do not have to complete in-depth fieldwork or interview lots of people for a study to be worthwhile and interesting. After all, anthropology allows you to research any human behaviour, anywhere.
Now that my thesis is completed, I hope that my findings can be used by British mental health charities to help people understand why we feel so drawn to use items such as detox products. I understand that this research will not stop people from using them, but at least they can be equipped to protect their mental and physical health if they do.
The title of my dissertation was "Should Child Work be Prohibited by International Law? Child Work and the Educational Context in Southern Zimbabwe." I chose this topic because it is a subject topical in contemporary anthropology research. Various organisations like 'Save the Children' and 'Defence of Children International' advocate for the abolition of child work through legislation, motivated by a belief in extending Western childhood ideals globally. Child work often appears in global media headlines due to severe cases of exploitation. However, anthropologists argue that there is a lack of in-depth studies on the realities and contexts of children's work.
Studying anthropology during my master's program has highlighted the importance of diversity and a holistic perspective. Anthropology involves studying countries and people within their unique local contexts, understanding specific circumstances over universal ones. The discipline is often described as "making the familiar exotic and the exotic familiar," encouraging a critical examination of both one's own culture and others, promoting cross-cultural understanding.
Cultural relativism is a vital methodological tool in anthropology, emphasising that societies are qualitatively distinct; thus, one should not compare them using the same criteria. This perspective challenges the application of international law and policy, which tends to treat all countries and people uniformly. Hence, it was not surprising to me to find, in answering my dissertation question, that international law would need updating and changing in today’s world.
Power and politics play significant roles in shaping international laws, as those in power, in affluent countries are often the ones that decide upon the law, and those who the laws are made for are often not consulted. For example, the UNCRC sets minimum age standards for employment, but these standards reflect Western childhood ideologies, not necessarily those of the Global South.
Child rights within the UNCRC are often in conflict, for example protection and provision rights. Article 32, of the UNCRC, states;
“parties recognise the right of the child to be protected from economic exploitation and from performing any work that is likely to be hazardous or to interfere with the child’s education, or to be harmful to the child’s health or physical, mental, spiritual, moral or social development.” (United Nations,1989).
Yet in protecting children from work by limiting their employment opportunities may hinder the realisation and knowledge of a child’s provision rights. Children might require employment to support themselves and their families, yet they are “safeguarded” from doing so.
During my five-week fieldwork in Zimbabwe, I aimed to understand the perspectives of the children, parents, and teachers affected by international child work laws. I feel that my methods of participant observation, interviews and mobile ethnography worked well in my fieldwork, teaching English classes in the local school meant that I was with children daily and could talk to them when was convenient to them, not disrupting their own personal schedules. Through these methods, I explored how Zimbabwean children's lives differ from Western children, their experiences of work, and the potential positive aspects of child work, such as socialization, development, and fulfilling cultural expectations.
In Zimbabwe and other African countries, children often have little choice but to work due to economic constraints. Work is seen as a way to contribute to the community and reinforce African personhood. Many children connect their jobs to virtue and being a good person; ‘My grandfather, was a farmer, he was a very good man’, ‘I help my mother, as I am a good girl’. The skills children learn in doing chores and jobs are vital for their future. If a wife cannot clean nor cook this would likely disappoint her husband and ‘would most likely lead to an abusive marriage’.
My research suggests that children's work has been undervalued and hidden due to its illegitimacy. However, through continued research, we can change this perception and better understand how child work can empower children, aid in their development, and improve their lives and the lives of their families.
Anthropology itself does not claim to solve problems facing humanity, but it gives practitioners skills and knowledge to do so. I hope that through my research and fieldwork in Zimbabwe, I have collected empirical data that contributes suggestions for the future of international child rights and policy making, that could be used by international organisations such as the UN. Hopefully in the future children’s agency will be considered and they will be consulted in laws that are made for them, and local cultural conditions will be focused upon, by international organisations, instead of simply assuming global universality.
/prod01/prodbucket01/media/durham-university/departments-/anthropology/Home_Page_Banner_Skeleton.jpg)