Emotions and Human Mobility: Key Concerns
Maruška Svašek
This introduction discusses some of the major developments in the study of emotions, and suggests ways in which various theories and perspectives might be relevant to the study of migration. It looks in particular at the study of social interaction between migrants and members of local communities, and to the study of interaction within transnational families. It addresses a number of questions, namely: What are emotions? How are emotional processes shaped by migration? To what extent are these dynamics influenced by structural possibilities or constraints such as immigration policies or economic inequality? How do migrants interact emotionally with the people they meet in reception countries, and what is the nature of the attachments they make with their new surroundings? How do they maintain contact with their absent kin? In what ways do migrant organisations and institutions frame migrant experiences, provide support, increase their sense of belonging, or influence and implement government policies? In summarising current debates, this introduction will outline the different approaches used by contributors to this volume, while also drawing on research conducted by the author on the Sudeten Germans. It concludes with some suggestions for further research.
This edited volume contributes to a growing field of interdisciplinary research that explores how emotional processes shape human mobility and vice versa. Recent research on the emotional dimensions of human mobility has covered a wide variety of topics,1 raising a number of significant questions. Fundamentally, how can we conceptualise emotions that are in essence both physical and metaphysical, to create a better understanding of human mobility? To what extent are the emotions of migrants influenced by structural constraints, for example by immigration policies or economic inequality? How do migrants interact emotionally with the people they meet in their adopted countries? To what extent do migrants stay attached to their homeland? How do migrant organisations provide emotional support for their clients, or increase their sense of belonging in their new, unfamiliar environment? What role do religious and educational institutions play in the emotional interactions both within and between migrant groups, or between migrants and locals?
A few examples from my own fieldwork conducted in Northern Ireland help to illustrate the power of emotional dynamics at play in migrant lives. The decision to emigrate can trigger very different feelings in those who have opted to leave and those who are left behind. Conflicting emotions, including excitement, anger, fear, guilt, hope and joy, can arise prior to leaving as demonstrated by the statement of a 23-year-old female Polish migrant worker whom I interviewed in Belfast in 2007:
[When I told my parents I wanted to move to Ireland] they were shocked and worried. Though I’m an adult they said I was too young. I just said ‘I’m going’. My mother tried to talk me out of it but my father and uncle said I should go because I could have a better life.
In this Polish case, the emotional interactions occurred within the context of kin relations in which the different actors attempted to influence each other’s feelings, demonstrating that emotional processes are often central to sociality. As Brian Parkinson (1995: 170) noted, ‘[o]ur emotional attitudes to one another are part of the continual redefinition of ongoing relationships’.
The following quote from a 37-year-old female Singaporean migrant, who recently settled with her husband in Northern Ireland, illustrates how migrants confronted with anti-foreign sentiment might respond emotionally to such experiences:
I once walked with my husband in the city centre. We met some girls, Goths, and they called me ‘Chinese prostitute’. I was furious. They are not only ignorant but are also making a public display of it. Why would they try to ruin someone else’s life with that? (2007)
The experience of discrimination triggered a strong emotional reaction. This individual, a university graduate who had completed an English literature degree in Australia, and who was outspoken about issues such as emancipation and oppression, clearly felt insulted and outraged once again at the mere recollection of the event. As a member of a minority group in Northern Ireland, it was not easy for her to raise public awareness of such xenophobic attitudes, but it did in fact motivate her to produce a documentary about racism in Northern Ireland that was broadcast on national television. Translating her own emotional distress into a public statement about discrimination, she succeeded in engaging with what has been called ‘the politics of emotions’ (Lutz and Abu-Lughod 1990; Svašek 2006).
The need to keep good relationships with relatives in the homeland can also require conscious emotional management. A 37-year-old female Chinese migrant from Beijing, who has lived in England and Northern Ireland for over 10 years, noted in 2007:
When we go to China I must make sure to keep all the relatives happy, so we always visit my own and my husband’s family. I always buy them exactly the same gifts.
In order to avoid accusations of favouritism, she used identical forms of gift-giving as a way of demonstrating equal appreciation for relatives on both sides of the family, identifying herself as ‘fair and loyal kin’. In this case, emotional practice clearly functioned as an identity claim, reinforcing a specific moral discourse of proper transnational kinwork. Migrants often invest much time and effort in the ‘emotion work’ (Hochschild 1983) necessary to maintain reciprocal exchange relations and sustain a ‘sense of family’ across distance (Baldassar 2007: 392; see also Baldassar 2008; Baldassar et al. 2006; Ramirez et al. 2007; Ryan 2008; Velayutham and Wise 2005; Wilding 2006).
The three case studies presented earlier show that emotional processes are part and parcel of human mobility. Even though we should be careful not to designate ‘migrants’ as an exclusive kind of mobile people, as mobility-related feelings are of course shared by migrants and non-migrants alike, it should nevertheless be acknowledged that certain emotional processes are caused by migration-specific issues (Skrbiš 2008; Svašek 2008: 215). These processes do not take place in the isolated minds/bodies of migrants, but arise in the interaction of individuals with their human and non-human surroundings.
This book will explore two major processes, namely the often multiple emotional attachments of migrants to their homelands and new places of residence, and the emotional interactions between migrants and members of local communities. As the contributions that follow will demonstrate, these two themes are strongly connected and should be analysed in tandem. There are many ways in which these two levels of analysis may be interlinked. Encounters between locals and newcomers may, for example, stimulate or discourage migrant from identifying with their new surroundings. Migrants with a strong ‘ethnic’ presence in their adopted country may also anger, frighten or attract particular members of the local population, resulting for instance in avoidance, attacks, intermarriage or other such emotionally charged acts.
Emotional Processes in a World of Movement
Before discussing the individual contributions to this book, I shall further outline its theoretical position in the field of ethnic and migration studies. The central assumption of all contributors is that, if we want to unravel and understand the social, economic, political and experiential complexities of human mobility and belonging, it is necessary to include a focus on emotional dynamics. As argued by David Conradson and Deirdre McKay (2007: 172; see also Aranda 2003; Gray 2008), ‘[f]ar from being a secondary or unimportant dimension of mobility […] affect and emotion are central aspects of international migration’. Yet what are emotional dynamics? How can we define emotions and use the perspective to create better insights into migration-related issues?
In earlier work, I have argued that it is useful to regard emotions as dynamic processes through which individuals experience and interpret the changing world, position themselves vis-à-vis others, and shape their subjectivities (Svašek 2005, 2006, 2008; Svašek and Skrbiš 2007). The self, in this perspective, is regarded neither as a closed container of passions nor as an entity that simply reacts to forces from outside, but rather as a mobile, multiple, relational being-in-the-world that is captured by his or her surroundings, engaging with past, present and future situations. Taking ‘the affective turn’ (Clough and Halley 2007), scholars such as Giles Deleuze, Félix Guattari, Brian Massumi and Baruch Spinoza have employed the notion of ‘affect’ to explore how bodies, things and other phenomena, conceptualized as field of intensity and impact, work on one another. In the Spinozian understanding of affect, there is ‘no longer a subject, but only individuating affective states of an anonymous force’ (Spinoza, quoted by Alliez 2004: 27). Agreeing with Nigel Thrift (2008: 13), however, I would argue that while the idea of fixed selves, living in predetermined stable environments must be replaced the notion of mutually constituting forces, it would be unproductive to completely loose a focus on the human subject (see Svašek 2005).
Interested in the dynamics of human mobility and emotions, David Conradson and Deidre McKay (2007: 236) have suggested making a distinction between ‘affect’ and ‘emotion’, defining emotions as ‘the self-conscious recognition, experience and interpretation of various bodily affects’. As will become clear in the following chapters, the contributors to this book take various perspectives on emotional dynamics, with some appropriating the concept of ‘affect’, and others employing other theoretical frameworks. Crucially, the overall approach in this book acknowledges that emotional encounters are not only shaped by direct interaction with others, but also by memories and imagination (Casey 1987; Tonkin 2006). Certain events in the past, such as a happy childhood or the experience of bullying at school, can have a long-lasting impact on one’s self-image and attitude towards others. Traumatic events, such as rape or torture, can result in mental and physical breakdown, social isolation, memory loss or compulsive memory, and may become central to a group’s identity politics (Kramer et al. 1984; Krystal 1995; Leydesdorff 1992; Leys 2000; Svašek 2005). The ‘others’ in emotional encounters are not only other human beings, but might also include animals, landscapes, material objects, images or events that affect people emotionally. From an experiential point of view, engagements with other human beings are, of course, in many ways different to interactions with non-human phenomena. The multi-sensorial and interactive experience of spending the night with a lover, for example, cannot easily be compared with the mainly visual experience of adoring a beautiful painting. Even though material things such as cars or paintings may have secondary emotional agency and a real emotional impact on the user or viewer (Gell 1998; Walker 1999) they have no autonomous mind or will, lack the ability to communicate through speech, and are mostly unable to move independently. Yet objects, images, tastes and smells may come to ‘stand for’ particular human others, for example when a daughter wears the jewellery of her deceased mother. Multi-sensorial engagement with ‘things from home’ may be an important way for migrants to have inner dialogues with the absent homeland and create a sense of belonging (Burrell 2008; Fortier 2000; Svašek 2008: 221).
In this context, it is vital to realise that individuals do not need to share space or time to react emotionally to one another’s existence. A man may meet his best friend in a restaurant, or a girl may play enthusiastically with her pet hamster. In both cases, physical co-presence is part and parcel of the event. Yet someone may get nervous about meeting an opponent the next day, anticipating problems, or may get butterflies in the stomach just thinking about a lover. In both cases, the ‘target’ of emotional engagement is absent and active as ‘inner presence’. The experiential differences between actual, remembered and imagined emotional encounters must, of course, be acknowledged (see Svašek 2000). This is also crucial in the analysis of migration where, in transnational social networks, the tension between physical proximity and physical absence is an important part of the experience. In addition, in the case of local/newcomer dynamics, the distinction between emotional processes based on ideas about others, and experiences of actual interaction must also be made clear. As some of the contributions to this volume will demonstrate, local people’s ideas of migrant others and migrants’ ideas of local others may be informed by misinformation or one-sided press reports. Such misunderstandings may be reinforced or undermined through actual engagement.
Emotions as Discourses, Practices and Embodied Experiences
It can be useful to define emotional processes as discourses, practices and embodied experiences (Svašek 2005, 2008). At an empirical level, these theoretical perspectives are of course interrelated, but for analytical purposes it is helpful to separate them as they emphasise distinct processes (Svašek and Skrbiš 2007). The perspective of ‘discourse’ outlines how cultural categories of emotions, and the notion of emotivity itself, produce knowledge about the world and the self that is often historically and group specific. The viewpoint of ‘practice’ draws attention to the performative nature of emotions, in terms of both unconscious, learned behaviour and the more deliberate politics of emotions. The outlook of ‘embodied experience’ explores physical aspects of emotional experience, in particular the perceptual process of bodily sensation and interpretation, and the interaction of bodies in space (Csordas 1994; Lyon 1995). Various authors have stressed that emotions can be physically overwhelming, and may be hard to manage or control in certain circumstances. This implies that the experiential reality of, for example, overpowering fear, devastating grief, or irresistible attraction cannot be fully explained through discursive analysis alone, nor by an exploration of performed rules that are group specific (Bourdieu 1977; Leavitt 1996; Lock 1993).
I shall illustrate this approach with an example from my research on ethnic Germans who were expelled from Czechoslovakia after the Second World War in 1945–47, namely the Sudeten Germans.2 As will also be further explored in Chapter 9, many Sudeten Germans, in particular those old enough to vividly remember the expulsion, have produced emotional discourses that construct the ‘lost homeland’ as an object of love, longing, and suffering (Fendl 2002), as demonstrated by the following poem entitled ‘Far lies the land’:3
Far lies the land that used to be my homeland, The hand of war broke the holy altar That my forefathers, in the course of time, Built for me and the future. | Fern liegt das Land, das meine Heimat war, Des Krieges Hand zerbrach den heiligen Altar, Den meine Väter in der Zeiten Lauf Bauten für mich und alle Zukunft auf. |
Destitute lies the village, silenced is the language Given to me by my mother for consolation. My father’s house shot at and burnt, And strangers live in the homeland. | Verödet liegt das Dorf, verstummt das Wort, Das mir die Mutter gab zu Trost und Hort, Mein Vaterhaus zerschossen und verbrannt, Und Fremde hausen auf dem Heimatland. |
I love people and all creatures, Nature gave us all equal rights, But my heart cries out intensely to heaven, This time owes us justice and freedom! | Ich liebe Mensch und alle Kreatur, Zu gleichem Recht gebar uns die Natur, Doch daβ mein Herz zum Himmel bruünstig schreit Um Recht und Freiheit, schuldet diese Zeit! |
I hear the song of the forests in the homeland, That reaches deep into my soul; My child, do you hear the ancient sound? So join in with my song of freedom! | Ich hör’ der Heimat Wälder Wipfellied, Das bis zu mir in meine Seele zieht; Mein Kind, hörst du den urweltlichen Klang? So stimmt mit ein in meiner F... |