by Rachel Kennedy (she/her)
MSCE, Goldsmiths, University of London
rkenn003 (@gold.ac.uk)
Rewolding in Times of Change
When we sat down to consider themes for the fourth issue of Anthways, things felt unstable; locally, globally, inside and out. Perhaps they always do. But this moment feels especially fragile, as the convergence of a multitude of crises threatens worlds as we have known them.
We need other kinds of stories. Haraway has implored – stories otherwise.
And so we looked to the jellyfish. Theirs’ is a tale as old as time, having danced in our oceans for over half a billion years. Renowned for their radical ability to adapt and regenerate, they thrive (albeit occasionally to the detriment of others) – even in today’s damaged seas. Their bioluminescence a flash of possibility in the darkest depths.
That light only hints at what they’re capable of. Things get far more juicy. As in the case of the immortal jelly, Turritopsis dorhnii, who call temporality into question as they continuously shift between infancy and adulthood, shedding a translucent skin as cells reorganise and revert to an earlier stage of the life cycle. Beginning again.
We too, can begin again. Shed skin. Shift beyond the order of things and experiment otherwise. And as we experiment, what role might anthropology play? And what if anthropology too, underwent a cellular regeneration? How might it twist and turn, adapt and emerge? As a discipline, method, or perspective?
We are delighted to welcome so many inspiring contributions to this issue, which delve into worlds as we have known them – and don’t yet. Which experiment with form and medium, dwell on the unimagined, and weave together threads from near and far. Threads weave quite literally through Sarah Ramadita and Atri Siregar words on ancestry, craft, history and storytelling, told in beautifully reflexive vignettes woven through Indonesian cloth. Emelie Isaksen similarly eschews traditional form in favour of correspondence – as both method and care. Gabriella Santini too, considers methods, and the toolkit required for multispecies ethnography in Kenya’s Maasailand. By contrast, Nguyen Huy Hoang’s worlds are many but immaterial, as they consider how their interlocutors, the drag queens of Queens of Phoenix‘s, not only re-imagine gender, but the ontological possibilities of what a body is, as they traverse its material boundaries.
Without wanting to divulge too much, there is a lot more to discover in the following pages. We hope you enjoy reading these works, and share our gratitude for the authors’ efforts. Anthways creates a vital space for early career researchers, and while it’s a pleasure to compile, it feels increasingly essential as the precarity of higher education (like so many other elements of our worlds) shifts sharply into focus. Our hope is that it can continue to provide a platform for new writers, forging pathways for those with imaginatively crafted, collaborative, carefully researched stories to tell.
