Notes from an Accidental Scholar

" title="Notes from an Accidental Scholar"> Notes from an Accidental Scholar

What the eff?

I’m a Cal­i­forn­ian now liv­ing in Brook­lyn. A part-time mom and rest-of-the time doc­toral stu­dent in Amer­i­can Stud­ies at NYU. Lover of the fol­low­ing: iced cof­fee, his­tor­i­cal minu­tiae, mind-bending the­ory, Twi­light Zone marathons, gad­gets, and talk­ing loud.

Con­tact

daciatakesnote@gmail.com

If you Google me, you’ll find this:

Google+
Academia.edu
Mende­ley

F.A.Q.

Q. What’s your dis­ser­ta­tion about?

A. Many grad­u­ate stu­dents hate this ques­tion because, depend­ing on where they are in their process, they don’t have a clear answer. The fol­low­ing is about as suc­cinct as I can get with­out caus­ing a nosebleed.

My dis­ser­ta­tion, “Is a Laugh Trea­son?” Car­i­ca­ture, Slav­ery, and Cit­i­zen­ship in the Age of Rev­o­lu­tion, con­sid­ers print cul­ture, specif­i­cally car­i­ca­ture, in the Atlantic World from 1760 to 1848. My work sit­u­ates the his­tory of eigh­teenth cen­tury car­i­ca­ture and cap­i­tal­ism as a his­tory of bod­ies in tran­sit, both lit­er­ally and fig­u­ra­tively. The move­ment of lit­eral bod­ies in the slave trade cre­ated an increased mean­ing — as they cir­cu­lated as labor­ers, con­sumers, and com­modi­ties, they sig­ni­fied and trans­lated their social and polit­i­cal sta­tus in print. In this con­text, rep­re­sen­ta­tions of the body become vital to our under­stand­ing of the nascent mod­ern socio-political land­scape. An analy­sis of what I call “infor­ma­tion cap­i­tal” requires dis­cus­sion not only of the cir­cu­la­tion of eigh­teenth cen­tury printed mate­ri­als — such as Atlantic print pam­phlets, peri­od­i­cals, cor­re­spon­dences, and broad­sides — but also the process of meaning-making in per­son­hood and cit­i­zen­ship. As yet, a crit­i­cal race the­ory that exam­ines car­i­ca­ture and print cul­ture of the eigh­teenth cen­tury Atlantic remains under­de­vel­oped. My project is designed to fill that void and will explain how artis­tic pro­duc­tion and com­mer­cial cir­cu­la­tion of the printed word and image were cen­tral to dis­courses of racial hier­ar­chy and modes of resis­tance in the rev­o­lu­tion­ary Atlantic World.


Q. Oh, so you’re an eigh­teenth cen­tury historian?

A. Not really — I’m a gen­er­al­ist work­ing on a spe­cial­ized eigh­teenth cen­tury project.

Q. What’s a “generalist?”

A. This is a tricky term. Some in my field con­sider gen­er­al­ist a pejo­ra­tive because It con­veys a lack of exper­tise and pro­fes­sional value. But fram­ing my work as gen­er­al­ist allows me to focus on knowl­edge pro­duc­tion as a process rather than an innate gift. An expert has com­pre­hen­sive knowl­edge or skill in a par­tic­u­lar area, the area of exper­tise in which I work is in the skill of learn­ing. My inter­ests are broad reach­ing — but the ele­ment that ties this blog together is my focus on prac­tice. This is why you’ll find dis­parate top­ics rang­ing from the pol­i­tics of moth­er­hood to info­graph­ics to the Atlantic Slave Trade to the dig­i­tal human­i­ties.

Q. So why blog?

A. Writ­ing, even good writ­ing, can only hold my atten­tion for up to 2,000 words before my mind begins to wan­der or life demands my atten­tion. This coin­cides with the num­ber of words I can type in one sit­ting with­out a break. My pre­vi­ous attempts at blog­ging degen­er­ated into sin­gle serv­ing entries of links and quotes with­out much, if any, nar­ra­tive or author-generated con­tent. The few times I did ven­ture into long form essays, I enjoyed the feed­back from my read­ers and mem­bers from the blog­ging com­mu­nity at large. So why did those blogs fail? Because they were anony­mous, plain and sim­ple. Not to say that anony­mous blog­ging doesn’t work for many authors and that a pseu­do­nym can grant an ele­ment of free­dom, but it sim­ply did not work for me. I want to par­tic­i­pate in the col­lab­o­ra­tive poten­tial of the web and I couldn’t do that with­out com­ing out of the shad­ows. I work best when I col­lab­o­rate and I sin­cerely hope that you’ll leave feed­back in the com­ments, it is in dia­logue where we all thrive best.

Q. I’m inter­ested in read­ing on, where do I go from here?

A. Awe­some! You can sub­scribe to my feed and/or fol­low me on twit­ter.
I hope you enjoy your stay.