Excerpt: One winter afternoon in 1946, Alicia Swann, an elementary school principal in El Paso, received an unusual phone call. Lois Godfrey, the American military liaison for the families of Nazi scientists relocated to nearby Fort Bliss, called Swann to ask if Crockett Elementary might accept some of the ninety school-aged children who would arrive in El Paso that spring. A year earlier, in one of the first acts of the Cold War, the US Army had launched Operation Paperclip, recruiting 118 scientists and technicians who designed the V-2 missile for the Third Reich to build an American missile program. The scientists’ wives and children were now beginning to arrive, and Swann was faced with a difficult decision. Could she “consent to let German children—enemy children—come through the door?” She decided that she could. Within months of the children’s arrival, Swann found her instincts had been right. By her measure, the Paperclip children fit in easily, learned English quickly, and possessed “no class barriers” from the school’s other students. At Crockett and in their intensive English-language classes at Fort Bliss, the children learned to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and sing “The Eyes of Texas.” When asked how she reconciled the fact that the children’s fathers had worked for Adolf Hitler, Swann responded, “I cannot concern myself with whatever [the parents] are or have been. It is with the children that I rest my hopes. … In spirit and in thinking they are American, for they have a happiness here they have never known before.” Crockett’s embrace of the German children, she argued, was simply American. To exemplify the students’ easy assimilation, Swann pointed to the example of Peter Lange. In class, another student had referred to him as “our German boy.” Lange corrected him, explaining that he was no longer German but just another “Davy Crockett.” To Swann, Lange’s story illustrated that the Paperclip students were like any American children, in their values and their imaginations. Still, the transformation was not predestined. Instead, Lange’s choice to figure himself in the mold of the frontiersman, Texan migrant, and Alamo martyr for whom his school was named underscores the purposeful role that schools like Swann’s played in upholding western heroes as models of patriotism.





Abstract: Communities of colour are racialised and oppressed differentially by settler colonial states , yet the discourse of diversity and inclusion that dominates state interactions with communities of colour tends to conflate marginalised groups as equivalent and interchangeable to the detriment of intergroup relations. An approach to community building that recognises racial difference in general and the irreducibility of indigeneity in particular is needed if racialised communities are to create solidarities for transformative change. We engage Indigenous and settler colonial theories to address these imperatives, while noting the distinct character of these frameworks. In particular, we seek to highlight the specificity of indigeneity in settler colonial contexts, such as Aotearoa New Zealand, and to generate a model for relationship building that is not founded on settler colonial ideologies, by drawing on Indigenous concepts. Through thematic analysis of interviews with Māori community leaders, we explore Māori-–tauiwi (settler) of colour (ToC) relations. The results of our qualitative analysis provide evidence for Māori–ToC relations that are consistent with whanaungatanga (good relationships characterised as family-like, based on similar experiences, and bound in conditional solidarity). Furthermore, we identify the following four aspects of whakawhanaungatanga (relationship building): positioning, power sharing, dialogue and cultural practice. Thus, we suggest whakawhanaungatanga as a Māori approach to relationship building with the potential to generate Indigenous–settler of colour solidarities towards transformative change.


Abstract: Alberta’s bitumen industry is frequently identified as a key site of environmental politics in the Anthropocene owing to the scale of its fossil fuel extraction operations. While popular images of surface mining activities often focus these discussions, approximately 80% of the bitumen reserves in the Canadian province lie too deep for surface mining and are extracted through in situ technologies, including processes that inject high-temperature, high-pressure steam to mobilize geologic formations of the tar-like fossil fuel. This article examines how in situ extraction was governed in response to four flow-to-surface (FTS) events in which bitumen unexpectedly migrated to Earth’s surface as the result of in situ operations. The governance response to these events is of particular interest because it counters the assertion that existing governance institutions operate on time scales that are incommensurate with those relevant to the Anthropocene. The Alberta case shows the opposite owing to how Earth’s deep history was used to provide temporal syntax for a geotechnical debate that ensued over what caused the FTS events. By detailing the controversy over what caused the FTS events, and the search for “enabling conditions” that would link causal explanations to the spatial distribution of the four bitumen seeps, Earth’s deep history was also made commensurate with the political geography of settler colonialism in Alberta. The article introduces and develops the notion of ‘settler geology’ in order to capture the naturalization of geologic forms of reasoning about Earth’s deep history, the geologic force of anthropogenic in situ operations, and the temporal framework of settler colonial governance in Alberta.