Category: Reflections

Who would have thought that maps could teach me so much about thinking, writing, and the world at large? Coming into The Power of Maps, I was expecting an intensive course on maps — the scales, the drawings, the printing. In fact, I wondered where and how exactly the writing portion would play in, for how much could really be said about a map? Didn’t the map itself do all the talking, hold all the answers? Oh, how wrong I was! And therein lies the fundamental lesson I have learned from this FYS: to not to take things at face value. This course taught me to question, to examine, to analyze, as well as to understand, to empathize, to listen. Writing was the medium through which this learning occurred, and my writing has evolved in different ways as a result.

First and foremost, rereading my own writing has helped me realize what is good about it. With elegant language, my writing sounds beautiful and reads well. I was pleasantly surprised to discover how enjoyable it was to read my writing, both in my head and out loud. Two pieces of writing that particularly stood out to me were both Weekly Writings. “Week 1: Observe and Describe: The Rose Garden” allowed me to use vivid imagery to translate words into images, while “Week 7: Getting Creative About Maps” allowed me to express everything I had read about in a creative way. Another strength I noticed, especially while going through my reflections, was how I smoothly incorporate my thoughts and feelings about the text into analysis. A good example of this was “Counter-Counter-Mapping?”, my reflection on “Rethinking the Power of Maps” by Denis Wood. Specifically in the first paragraph, I expressed my reaction to the text in terms of how interesting and thought-provoking it was, transitioned into my opinion that Palestine was an effective example of the power of maps, then defended this opinion with analysis of the text.

Over the course of the semester, my writing has become more concise and precise. I can see this through my improvement in word choice, my selectivity of language with the greatest relevance and significance. I used to require more words to get across the same message, but now I feel that I pack a powerful punch in fewer, more specific words. The piece in particular that made me feel this was “Manscapes” and More, my reflection on Rebecca Solnit’s “City of Women”. It was short and anything but sweet. Instead, the two brief paragraphs stated arguments and analyses with strength.

While progress has been made, growth is a never-ending process. I would like to improve on my use of quotes by seamlessly embedding quotes and using them as a platform to expand my own writing, instead of letting them speak for me. In my latest reflection, “Cartographic Ethics”, I realized that I used two medium-length, full quotes in a single paragraph. To limit my quoting, I plan to list out the ones I want to use, only keep the parts the author spoke exceptionally well, and thoroughly analyze them in my own words. I might like to rewrite my first formal essay utilizing this method, as I felt that my quotes were relatively long. Another area for improvement is focusing more on a specific element in shorter reflections, instead of covering the entire reading. I can do this by practicing the 1 on 10 and 10 on 1 exercise that Dr. Albert taught us this semester. 

Overall, The Power of Maps and this review has made me more knowledgeable of my writing. I was able to reflect on where I need to improve, in addition to what I do well. I feel more confident and prepared for college level writing, which I am excited to continue improving in future writing intensives and as a writing tutor.

In chapter 7 of The New Nature of Maps, “Can There Be Cartographic Ethics?”, J. B. Harley sets forth his argument on one of our class’s recent key discussions: subjectivity, availability, and standardization of maps. Per our class discussion, we realized the question of whether or not maps can be objective is a disputed topic. The “objective” side argued that maps of the physical landscape, like a network of roads, is not subjective. The choice of what to include or omit is, in itself, not the result of bias but practicality. In contrast, the “subjective” side contended that it is impossible to present an objective map because cartography is inherently subjective, based upon its practice as a representation of an individual’s perspective, with choices intentional or not that shapes the world in different ways. 

Even cartographers themselves say that “we are told about the ‘paradox’ in which ‘an accurate map’, to ‘present a useful and truthful picture’, must ‘tell white lies’” (200). This statement offers a look at the fundamental problems with the field of cartography when it comes to ethics. Cartographers are essentially admitting that creating any map requires small falsehoods, yet are quick to become defensive when criticized for this. In Harley’s words, “cartography will be unable to engage in an ethical debate while it continues to appeal only to its own internal standards yet is morally blind to issues in the world outside” (200). Here’s where Harley’s central argument comes to light: cartographical ethics can’t only be limited to techniques and practices, for maps have profound social impacts on the world at large. As such, mapmakers must take into account, and be held accountable for, such values in the worldviews they release to the public.  

After learning about maps in a mostly political and abstract context, it was so refreshing to explore maps in a social context, especially a feminist one. It wasn’t until reading Rebecca Solnit’s “City of Women” that I realized, with a punch to the gut, that essentially every location I’ve seen on a map or been to in person has been named after a man — and I didn’t even question this. A term that Solnit used particularly stuck with me: “manscape”. This seems to be a more apt term to describe the societies that have been constructed, dominated, and perpetuated by men. Not only are men celebrated in life, but honored after death. Perhaps maps can be seen as the ultimate manifestation of the patriarchy — men, and their legacies, are memorialized in concrete and on paper, while the mere names of women are lost to the winds of time. 

Names may seem trivial, but they carry unimaginable power. They compose and define the world around us. As Solnit discussed, how would my confidence, my perceptions, my hopes and dreams be different if I was surrounded by the commemorations of distinguished women? I feel that I would have grown up in a different world. 

The Pew Research Center’s 2018 study, “The Public, the Political System and American Democracy” surveys Americans across the political spectrum on their views of government and citizenship. The general trend is an agreement with the importance of democratic values, but a disappointment with America’s performance in living up to them. Out of the 23 items assessing democracy in America, all were found important, yet only 8 were found to describe America very well. This means that the people, regardless of partisan support, are dissatisfied with the government, leaving much to be desired and improved.

From a different angle, participants in the study were also surveyed on their ideals for good citizenship. Democrats and Republicans mostly agree on the obligations of good citizenship. The difference lies in the exact percentages. In addition, Democrats value protest more (progress), while Republicans value the Pledge of Allegiance and displaying the flag more (nationalism). It is also interesting to note that leaners were less likely to rank aspects of citizenship as very important compared to partisans. This could be due to the fact that a lack of belonging to a certain group has not polarized their views. Last but not least, young people are less likely to place great importance on any aspect of citizenship. This is perhaps some truth to the saying that young people are not as politically involved today, but hopefully that has changed for the 2020 election. 

At first glance, Denis Wood’s maps of Boylan Heights appear random and factual. His initial purpose was to map everything in the area, which, of course, isn’t entirely possible. What he did achieve, however, was producing several objective-leaning maps that, taken altogether, can lead to subjective interpretations and conclusions. Particularly the maps of “SHOTGUN, BUNGALOW, MANSION”, “JACK-O’-LANTERNS”, and “NEWSLETTER PROMINENCE” point to representations of class. The first map outlines the societal — and physical — hierarchy that exists in Boylan Heights based on houses. At the top of the hill is a grand mansion, followed by solid, stately houses and houses with less heft further down the hill, tapering off to rows of shotgun houses at the base. Those with a greater economic status likely correspond with greater newsletter prominence — or community representation — Jack-o’-lantern placement — or community participation. Once inferences and perspectives are applied to a series of objective images, they can transform into ideas.

In the previous section of reading in Laura Vaughan’s, Mapping Society: The Spatial Dimensions of Social Cartography, she mostly explored maps where segregation was a choice, and not a result of helplessness. In the section for today, we dive into cases where spatial segregation is enforced, and judged on the basis of race and socioeconomic status. This can perhaps best be represented by redlining, a topic we visited a few weeks earlier. In 1933, in order to regulate the risks for mortgage loans the Federal Home Owners’ Loan Incorporation ranked neighborhoods from A through D, color-coded green, blue, yellow, red, meaning ‘Best, Still Desirable, Definitely Redlining, and Hazardous’. Most black neighborhoods were color coded red, which essentially doomed them if they weren’t already. These maps became “self-fulfilling prophecies” (156), making neighborhoods into the poverty areas (low resource, low opportunity, etc) that they had been judged as. As such, redlining was both a reflection and perpetuation of racism/prejudice, manifested in spatial form. An abstract attitude became tangible, a practice that would further exacerbate the abstract in physical forms such as economic, racial, and social marginalization.

Today’s reading explored chapter 5, “Nationalities, Race, and Religion”, of Laura Vaughan’s book Mapping Society: The Spatial Dimensions of Social Cartography. She introduced the topic of segregation through the lens of urban areas, where segregation of people from different backgrounds is especially pronounced and prevalent. I thought exploring the divisions and integrations in cities was a very effective gateway to talking about the “disciplinary divide between the social and the spatial sciences” (130). We tend to think of — and get taught about — segregation in its spatial manifestations. That is, the physical separation of different peoples, from sections of cities to entire isolated communities. But there’s more to it than tangible divides: there are also social, abstract ones, such as class, wealth, background. In and of itself, segregation doesn’t have to be an inherently “bad” thing. In Vaughan’s words, “There is little evidence for determining exactly at what point separation by social group becomes problematic. Nor is it clear how one would arrive at the platonic ideal of social mixing” (131). However, when segregation becomes forced or exploited is when it becomes negative. The example that Vaughan provides is the targeted mapping residences owned by Chinese people control them.

After reading “The seven political states of Pennsylvania” by David Weigel, I became more informed on the voter distribution in Pennsylvania, and I noticed common patterns between demographic and party. The Philadelphia, Southeast (Levittown), and Allegheny (Pittsburgh) regions tend to vote blue, while the Dutch country (Harrisburg, Lancaster, York), Central (State College), West, and Northeast (Scranton and Allentown) commonwealths tend to vote red, and overwhelmingly so. The blue regions all had a higher share of people living in cities than average, higher/average non-White residents than average, and with the exception of Philadelphia, more college-educated residents than average. Upon analyzing, these patterns make logical sense to me: cities and colleges tend to be more liberal/progressive areas, and produce people with such ideas. In addition, a greater non-white population would be less likely to vote for a party that supports immigration restrictions, white privilege, etc. In contrast, the red regions  had a lower share of people living in cities than average, fewer non-White residents than average, and fewer college-educated residents than average. Dominated by rural areas, conservatives, and whites, it is no surprise that voters from these areas tend towards Republican candidates. 

Overall, the map by Lauren Tierney effectively draws connections between voter demographics and candidate/party, from the number of residents in cities to race and education. All these factors play important roles in deciding which way a vote will go, and the map shows how location can influence these factors.

Event Reflection – Public Health Student Association-organized talk, The Epidemic and Pandemic in our Prisons with Aakash Shah, MD, MBA, MSc. on 10/14/20 at 7:00pm

The Epidemic and Pandemic in our Prisons was a thought-provoking talk about the intersectionality of public health and prison reform, especially in light of the current pandemic. This talk was presented by Aakash Shah, an ER doctor and Medical Directors for Substance Use Disorder Program Development, the Hospital-Based Violence Intervention Program at Hackensack Meridian Health, and New Jersey Reentry Corporation. His approach to prison reform is that the “ultimate manifestation of justice is treatment, not punishment”. 

Fundamentally, the prison system needs to be reimagined. In place of a Department of Corrections, we need to have a Department of Rehabilitation. Instead of letting people experience further trauma and rot away in prison, Dr. Shah suggests the creation of therapeutic communities and the practice of rehabilitative release. In short, we need a public health approach to the criminal justice system. It just makes more sense: financially, older people need more healthcare; morally and logically, prison inherently changes people. But take a look at Covid-19. In the current crisis, the incarcerated have a higher risk of contracting the virus, and yet also a greater chance of being overlooked in terms of treatment and eventually, vaccine distribution. This just doesn’t make sense. At the end of the day, the prison system needs massive reform.

But this begs the question: how do we differentiate between criminals and individuals with mental health disorders? In order to answer this question, we must first become — as Dr. Shah calls them — “students of history”, to understand why conditions and circumstances are the way they are. A brief history of prison reform includes a push to de-institutionalize treatment of mental health disorders. This actually led to a reduced number of available “beds”, but a lack of good alternatives and robust resources. As a result, a good number of individuals ended up in prison instead of mental institutions. The current situation can be encapsulated by this story: a trauma surgeon managed to save the life of a patient with a severe mental health disorder, but this is what he said afterwards to Dr. Shah: “You know how this ends.” What did he mean? Ending up in prison. And statistics support this expectation: the overwhelming response to mental illness to calling the police. In fact, ¼ -½ of police orders are mental health calls. But the police have their obvious limits in terms of training and options that they can offer. So what would be the ideal situation? According to Dr. Shah, we should re-route emergency calls to mental health specialists. In trials, the line should be drawn between criminals and individuals with mental health disorders by mental health professionals rather than law enforcement / judges.

Reform is never a quick, easy process, especially when it comes to historically undervalued members of society. However, as Martin Luther King Jr. said, “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” It takes time and effort to make change, but as humanity tends toward righteousness, it is inevitable.

“It’s fitting that maps should be the medium for the recovery of this lost world since they were so instrumental in its loss” (232).

“In fact, the mapping of Palestine is a paradigm of the history of map making; but since it’s also the object of counter mapping encounter counter mapping, and an obsessive subject of map art, it makes a uniquely trenchant example around which to review the arguments of this book” (232).

“It’s so characteristic of the history of mapmaking that this land, so highly revered by the faithful of three religions, was seriously mapped only to serve the military needs of modern imperialist states, the military needs and the ensuing colonial needs for establishing policeable borders” (237).

“It was a question of remapping the landscape into a literally delirious simulacrum of one that hadn’t existed… for millennia…That is, the desire to call Nablus “Shechem” amounts to the desire to… erase… Nearly two millennia of history… I don’t know how else to think about such a desire except as a kind of delirium” (239).

“That is, the Survey and its counter-mappers co-constructed the geo-body of Israel using the precise mechanism described by Thongchai back in the first chapter: map it, iconize it, deny its history” (240).