Indigenous Languages and the Law: Exploring New Directions in Deportation History in Latin America – Q&A With Rachel Nolan

By Samantha Igo
Rachel Nolan, a Core Faculty Member of the Human Capital Initiative at the Boston University Global Development Policy Center and an Assistant Professor of International History at the BU Frederick S. Pardee School of Global Studies, has been awarded a New Directions Fellowship from the Mellon Foundation to expand her study of deportation history in Latin America with training in Indigenous language and the law.
The Fellowship assists faculty members in the humanities and humanistic social sciences who seek to acquire systematic training outside their own areas of special interest. Nolan’s latest research project seeks to not only explore the lives of deportees but also the impact of their return in three countries in Latin America and the Caribbean (Mexico, the Dominican Republic and Guatemala).
There are two components currently outside her expertise, she argues, that are vital to this area of study: first, Indigenous deportees who don’t speak Spanish, and their stories, are often an invisible part of immigration regimes despite their increased vulnerability to them, and two, the rapidly shifting, and increasingly complex, legal landscape surrounding immigration and asylum.
Below, Rachel Nolan discusses her research plans, advice for scholars, her dream research project and more.
Q1: Your forthcoming project will follow the lives of deportees and explore the impact of their return, from the community level to the national. How did you come to this topic?
It is hard to live in Guatemala or travel in Central America without meeting a lot of deportees. When I first moved there over a decade ago, deportation flights were landing in Guatemala City at least twice a week. I visited the Casa del Migrante, a shelter run by a Catholic organization providing some of the only services for deportees and saw both the wonderful work they were doing and how tiny their space was in comparison to the vast need.
Q2: You note that expertise with Indigenous languages and law are vital to conducting this project. Can you explain more why exactly that is and what you hope to accomplish with the Mellon New Directions Fellowship?
I did deal with the law to some degree in my first book, Until I Find You, which is about the history of international adoptions from Guatemala. I learned a fair amount about international laws and treaties governing adoptions, as well as the history of Guatemalan adoption law. But understanding US immigration law over time is a much more complex project. Luckily, I have been in touch with a wonderful professor at BU, Sarah Sherman-Stokes, through a seed grant given by the Center on Forced Displacement. Since then, I have wanted to sit in on her classes and learn something. Now is my chance.
English, Spanish and Portuguese are only a few of the major languages spoken in the Americas, where Indigenous languages like Aymara, Quechua, K’iche’ or Mam, are spoken by millions of people. I wrote about the hurdles faced by Indigenous migrants, as well as the attempts of Maya Indigenous translators to facilitate access to asylum, for the New Yorker a few years ago. Most North Americans don’t understand that many migrants, especially from Guatemala, are not “Hispanic” in the Spanish-speaking sense of the term. Working on that story made me regret how little language study or knowledge I had in this area. I’m fluent in Spanish but have never had the opportunity to study K’iche’, one of 22 Mayan languages spoken in Guatemala. It’s both the language of the Popul Vuh, and a language that you hear in Chelsea and New Bedford, Massachusetts.
Q3: This Fellowship underscores the importance of research that is both continually expanding horizons and interdisciplinary, rather than crystallizing in one specific area of expertise. What advice do you have for students and scholars in both recognizing blindspots they may have in their work and exploring new areas of study?
I’m wary of doling out advice, since approaches to research are so idiosyncratic and individual. But I would say that while pursuing a PhD encourages narrowing focus to gain expertise in one area, it is always good to remember the “known unknowns.” When I was researching my first book, I was keenly aware of my limitations. For linguistic but also ethical reasons, I was unable to conduct interviews with birth mothers who had relinquished children for adoptions.
Q4: Could you put into context current developments in US immigration policy with US immigration historically?
I teach a class on deportation history at BU, and students are sometimes surprised by continuities with past immigration policies. We start with the founding of the country, discussing state-level deportation laws often used to expel poor people, and move on to the Alien and Sedition Acts—which are lately in the news again. Much of the early material we cover in the class is to do not with Latin American but Chinese immigrants, including acts of violence against Chinese communities in the American West. Students also study past programs that have been discontinued, like the bracero guest worker program and various forms of visas that have been available to migrants both historically and in the present. The most important context for large-scale migration to the US, which we study in depth, is the history of the Central American civil wars and the role of the US in funding and supporting repressive military dictatorships in Guatemala and El Salvador.
Q5: If you had unlimited funds and unlimited time, what would be your dream research project?
Honestly, it would be this research project. The US has deported an estimated 56 million people to Latin America in the century since 1920. But deportees often disappear from North American consciousness as soon as they are on a plane, train or bus. What happens on the other side?
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