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robertogreco : visas   7

Matthew Paskins on Twitter: "When I tell colleagues I don’t fly, quite a lot of them, especially senior ones, respond—“oh, I should fly less.” I respect this response, but /1" / Twitter
[via: https://twitter.com/justinpickard/status/1163199568332447744 ]

“When I tell colleagues I don’t fly, quite a lot of them, especially senior ones, respond—“oh, I should fly less.” I respect this response, but /1

I suspect it’s very unlikely that you will start to fly less if your professional persona and way of being depends on it. People just don’t actually give it up, you know? /2

Some do, some reduce, some have great aspirations; some use the security of professorial status or tenure to reduce their transport load. But in general flying is too central to a way of being and a kind of thriving to give up. /3

(I think. I’d love to be wrong). /4

The reason I don’t fly isn’t straightforwardly instrumental—it isn’t that I think I’m grounding enough planes to make a big difference. It’s that I can’t bear a model of scholarship which is as dependent on the sociotechnical system of aviation and border control as ours is. /5

And I would like to have contributed in whatever small way I can to the anticipatory labour of making a less unjust academy. That is obviously complicated and obviously fraught with inequities. /6

And senior people are going to continue to behave with the combination of grace and ruthlessness which got them where they are. That means, most of the time, accepting the immense subsidy for elite networking which universities pay out. /7

What those people can meaningfully do—what you can do if you’re one of those people—is support colleagues whose mobility is limited: whether that’s through refusal to fly, the operation of tyrannous Visa systems, or because they have caring responsibilities. /8

I don’t mean me—or just the performative act of attempting to refuse to reproduce institutional injustice: a lot of the people who feel they can afford to do that are already fortunate, or very stubborn can or both /9

But limited access to transport is an injustice that reaches far beyond that group. /10

I would love for the conversation to go: “I don’t fly.” “Oh that’s interesting, I’ve just written a letter this week to a colleague who can’t travel about how we could work together.” Or “Cool, I’ve been making sure people are reading stuff by [so-and-so]”. /11

Etc. These are tiny wishes but they are achievable in a way that individual flight-reduction may not be. THE END. /12"
flight  flying  academia  highered  highereducation  opportunity  matthewpaskins  aviation  status  security  inequality  inequity  elitism  networking  conferences  borders  visas  travel  injustice  socialjustice  climatechange  sustainability  flightshame  flyingshame  flygskam  carbonemissions  emissions  airlines  climate  airplanes  carbonfootprint 
9 weeks ago by robertogreco
Frances Stonor Saunders · Where on Earth are you? · LRB 3 March 2016
"The one border we all cross, so often and with such well-rehearsed reflexes that we barely notice it, is the threshold of our own home. We open the front door, we close the front door: it’s the most basic geographical habit, and yet one lifetime is not enough to recount all our comings and goings across this boundary. What threshold rites do you perform before you leave home? Do you appease household deities, or leave a lamp burning in your tabernacle? Do you quickly pat down pockets or bag to check you have the necessary equipment for the journey? Or take a final check in the hall mirror, ‘to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet’?

You don’t have a slave to guard your door, as the ancients did, so you set the alarm (or you set the dog, cave canem). Keys? Yes, they’re in your hand. You have ‘the power of the keys’, the right of possession that connects you to thousands of years of legal history, to the rights of sovereigns and states, to the gates of salvation and damnation. You open the door, step through, and turn to close it – through its diminishing arc, the details of your life inside recede. ‘On one side, me and my place,’ Georges Perec wrote:
The private, the domestic (a space overfilled with my possessions: my bed, my carpet, my table, my typewriter, my books, my odd copies of the Nouvelle Revue française); on the other side, other people, the world, the public, politics. You can’t simply let yourself slide from one into the other, can’t pass from one to the other, neither in one direction nor in the other. You have to have the password, have to cross the threshold, have to show your credentials, have to communicate … with the world outside.

You lock the door. You’ve crossed the border. You’ve ignored Pascal’s warning that all humanity’s misery derives from not being able to sit alone in a quiet room. When the Savoyard aristocrat Xavier De Maistre was sentenced to six weeks’ house arrest for duelling in 1790, he turned his detention into a grand imaginary voyage. ‘My room is situated on the 45th degree of latitude,’ he records in A Journey around my Room. ‘It stretches from east to west; it forms a long rectangle, 36 paces in perimeter if you hug the wall.’ And so he sets off, charting a course from his desk towards a painting hung in a corner, and from there he continues obliquely towards the door, but is waylaid by his armchair, which he sits in for a while, poking the fire, daydreaming. Then he bestirs himself again, presses north towards his bed, the place where ‘for one half of our life’ we forget ‘the sorrows of the other half’. And so on, ‘from the expedition of the Argonauts to the Assembly of Notables, from the lowest depths of hell to the last fixed star beyond the Milky Way, to the confines of the universe, to the gates of chaos’. ‘This,’ he declares, ‘is the vast terrain which I wander across in every direction at leisure.’

Whether around your room in forty days, or around the world in eighty days, or around the Circle Line in eighty minutes, whether still or still moving, the self is an act of cartography, and every life a study of borders. The moment of conception is a barrier surpassed, birth a boundary crossed. Günter Grass’s Oskar, the mettlesome hero of The Tin Drum, narrates, in real time, his troubling passage through the birth canal and his desire, once delivered into the world, to reverse the process. The room is cold. A moth beats against the naked light bulb. But it’s too late to turn back, the midwife has cut the cord.

Despite this uncommon ability to report live on his own birth, even Oskar’s power of self-agency is subject to the one inalienable rule: there is only one way into this life, and one way out of it. Everything that happens in between – all the thresholds we cross and recross, all the ‘decisions and revisions that a minute will reverse’ – is bordered by this unbiddable truth. What we hope for is safe passage between these two fixed boundaries, to be able to make something of the experience of being alive before we are required to stop being alive. There’s no negotiating birth or death. What we have is the journey.

On the evening of 3 October 2013, a boat carrying more than five hundred Eritreans and Somalis foundered just off the tiny island of Lampedusa. In the darkness, locals mistook their desperate cries for the sound of seagulls. The boat sank within minutes, but survivors were in the water for five hours, some of them clinging to the bodies of their dead companions as floats. Many of the 368 people who drowned never made it off the capsizing boat. Among the 108 people trapped inside the bow was an Eritrean woman, thought to be about twenty years old, who had given birth as she drowned. Her waters had broken in the water. Rescue divers found the dead infant, still attached by the umbilical cord, in her leggings. The longest journey is also the shortest journey.

Already, in the womb, our brains are laying down neural pathways that will determine how we perceive the world and our place in it. Cognitive mapping is the way we mobilise a definition of who we are, and borders are the way we protect this definition. All borders – the lines and symbols on a map, the fretwork of walls and fences on the ground, and the often complex enmeshments by which we organise our lives – are explanations of identity. We construct borders, literally and figuratively, to fortify our sense of who we are; and we cross them in search of who we might become. They are philosophies of space, credibility contests, latitudes of neurosis, signatures to the social contract, soothing containments, scars.

They’re also death zones, portals to the underworld, where explanations of identity are foreclosed. The boat that sank half a mile from Lampedusa had entered Italian territorial waters, crossing the imaginary line drawn in the sea – the impossible line, if you think about it. It had gained the common European border, only to encounter its own vanishing point, the point at which its human cargo simply dropped off the map. Ne plus ultra, nothing lies beyond.

I have no theory, no grand narrative to explain why so many people are clambering into their own hearses before they are actually dead. I don’t understand the mechanisms by which globalisation, with all its hype of mobility and the collapse of distance and terrain, has instead delivered a world of barricades and partition, in which entire populations seem to be living – and dying – in a different history from mine. All I know is that a woman who believed in the future drowned while giving birth, and we have no idea who she was. And it’s this, her lack of known identity, which places us, who are fat with it, in direct if hopelessly unequal relationship to her.

Everyone reading this has a verified self, an identity, formed through and confirmed by identification, that is attested to be ‘true’. You can’t function in the world without it: you can’t open a bank account, get a credit card or national insurance number, or a driving licence, or access to your email and social media accounts, or a passport or visa, or points on your reward card. You can’t have your tonsils removed without it. You can’t die without it. Whether you’re conscious of it or not, whether you like it or not, the verified self is the governing calculus of your life, the spectrum on which you, as an individual, are plotted from cradle to grave. As Pierre-Joseph Proudhon explained, you must be ‘noted, registered, enumerated, accounted for, stamped, measured, classified, audited, patented, licensed, authorised, endorsed, reprimanded, prevented, reformed, rectified and corrected, in every operation, every transaction, every movement.’"



"All migrants know that the reply to the question ‘Who on earth are you?’ is another question: ‘Where on earth are you?’ And so they want what we’ve got, a verified self that will transport them to our side of history. Thus, the migrant identity becomes a burden to be unloaded. Migrants often make the journey without identity documents, and I mentioned one reason for this, namely that the attempt to obtain them in their country of origin can be very dangerous. Others lose them at the outset when they’re robbed by police or border guards, or by people traffickers en route. Many destroy them deliberately because they fear, not without reason, that our system of verification will be a mechanism for sending them back. In Algeria, they’re called harraga, Arabic for ‘those who burn’. And they don’t only burn their documents: many burn their fingertips on hobs or with lighters or acid, or mutilate them with razors, to avoid biometric capture and the prospect of expulsion. These are the weapons of the weak.

The boat carrying more than five hundred Eritreans and Somalis sank off Lampedusa in October 2013, barely three months after the pope’s visit. Whether they had lost their identity papers, or destroyed them, when facing death the people on board wanted to be known. As the boat listed and took on water, and with most of the women and children stuck below deck, those who knew they wouldn’t make it called out their names and the names of their villages, so that survivors might carry ashore news of their deaths.​5 There isn’t really any other way: there’s no formal identification procedure for those who drown. In Lampedusa’s cemetery, the many plaques that read ‘unidentified migrant’ merely tell us that people have been dying in the Mediterranean for at least 25 years – more than twenty thousand of them, according to current estimates.

Everyone must be counted, but only if they count. Dead migrants don’t count. The woman who drowned while giving birth was not a biometric subject, she was a biodegradable one. I don’t want to reconstitute her as a sentimental artefact, an object to be smuggled into the already crowded room of my bad conscience. But … [more]
borders  identity  cartography  francesstonorsaunders  georgesperec  lampedusa  güntergrass  refugees  identification  personhood  geopolitics  legibility  mobility  passports  pierre-josephproudhon  globalization  thresholds  homes  milankundera  socialmedia  digitalexhaust  rfid  data  privacy  smartphones  verification  biometrics  biometricdata  migration  immigration  popefrancis  facialidentification  visas  paulfussell  stefanzweig  xenophobia  naomimitchison  nobility  surveillance  intentionality  gilbertharding  whauden  lronhubbard  paulekman 
march 2016 by robertogreco
STEM Graduates Can't Find Jobs - US News
"All credible research finds the same evidence about the STEM workforce: ample supply, stagnant wages and, by industry accounts, thousands of applicants for any advertised job. The real concern should be about the dim employment prospects for our best STEM graduates: The National Institutes of Health, for example, has developed a program to help new biomedical Ph.D.s find alternative careers in the face of “unattractive” job prospects in the field. Opportunities for engineers vary by the field and economic cycle – as oil exploration has increased, so has demand (and salaries) for petroleum engineers, resulting in a near tripling of petroleum engineering graduates. In contrast, average wages in the IT industry are the same as those that prevailed when Bill Clinton was president despite industry cries of a “shortage.” Overall, U.S. colleges produce twice the number of STEM graduates annually as find jobs in those fields.

In the face of these stark facts, we now see several studies that seem to be desperate Hail Mary passes, using rather unconventional means to find “shortages.” Some analysts do this by expanding the definition of STEM jobs – traditionally those involved in innovation, discovery and development – to include air conditioning technicians and even some retail jobs to make the case that this workforce is large and growing. Without any coherent meaning, such analyses now serve only rhetorical purposes to advance particular legislation.

Cries that “the STEM sky is falling” are just the latest in a cyclical pattern of shortage predictions over the past half-century, none of which were even remotely accurate. In a desert of evidence, the growth of STEM shortage claims is driven by heavy industry funding for lobbyists and think tanks. Their goal is government intervention in the market under the guise of solving national economic problems. The highly profitable IT industry, for example, is devoting millions to convince Congress and the White House to provide its employers with more low-cost, foreign guestworkers instead of trying to attract and retain employees from an ample domestic labor pool of native and immigrant citizens and permanent residents. Guestworkers currently make up two-thirds of all new IT hires, but employers are demanding further increases. If such lobbying efforts succeed, firms will have enough guestworkers for at least 100 percent of their new hiring and can continue to legally substitute these younger workers for current employees, holding down wages for both them and new hires.

Claiming there is a skills shortage by denying the strength of the U.S. STEM workforce and student supply is possible only by ignoring the most obvious and direct evidence and obscuring the issue with statistical smokescreens – especially when the Census Bureau reports that only about one in four STEM bachelor’s degree holders has a STEM job, and Microsoft plans to downsize by 18,000 workers over the next year.

Educational and skills improvement is needed for low-income and low-skilled workers, but these problems are masked by cries of shortages or “mismatches” based on unsubstantiated claims about employees or students with the “wrong skills.” Such polemics divert attention away from the true clear-and-present danger to our STEM system – namely, debased STEM jobs that discourage domestic students and workers from pursuing STEM careers. In doing so, the ultimate outcome will be a nation weakened by the outsourcing of its core competencies."
stem  myths  jobs  employment  visas  corporatism  salaries  2014  guestworkers  labor  economics  shortage 
september 2014 by robertogreco
Permanent Visas Los Angeles
"This map visualizes the 2512 permanent visa applications in Los Angeles County, CA in 2012 & 2013 ... view map
All Philippines
All Applications | AcceptedWithdrawnDenied
IT
Educational Services
Health Care
Finance
Hospitality
Retail
Aerospace
Transportation
Construction
Automotive
Energy
Homeland Security
Biotechnology
Agribusiness
Geospatial
Advanced Manufacturing
IT
Educational Services
Health Care
Finance
Hospitality
Retail
Aerospace
Transportation
Construction
Automotive
Energy
Homeland Security
Biotechnology
Agribusiness
Geospatial
Advanced Manufacturing
IT
Educational Services
Health Care
Finance
Hospitality
Retail
Aerospace
Transportation
Construction
Automotive
Energy
Homeland Security
Biotechnology
Agribusiness
Geospatial
Advanced Manufacturing
Details
263 Applications in 82 Types of Jobs
19% Denied 75% Accepted 6% Withdrawn
Top Companies
73 Los Angeles Unified School District
5 Desert Sands Public Charter; Inc.
4 Bright Light Homecare Llc
3 Norwalk-la Mirada Unified School District
2 Nida Relativo;dds; Inc
Top Job Titles
55 Secondary School Teachers; Except Special and Career/Technical Education
20 Accountants and Auditors
12 Secondary School Teachers; Except Special and Vocational Education
9 Home Health Aides
8 Accountants
See All Job Titles and Companies
Los Angeles
Greenland had no visa applications.Reset
This work is part of the You Are Here project + The Social Computing Group + MIT Media Lab + MIT Feedback | FAQ
This map visualizes the 2512 permanent visa applications in Los Angeles County in 2012 & 2013.

A city is made up primarily of the people who live there. Their stories, their histories, and the lives they left behind to come there make up the city's narrative tapestry. This map is the first in a series that depicts one aspect of these personal histories: the countries from which people come.

This visualization shows the acceptance rate, job title, origin country, and economic sector of the permanent visa applications for companies in Los Angeles County in the years 2012 and 2013. Los Angeles County accounts for 3.86% of the country's total 64810 visa applications filed in 2012 and 2013. And permanent visa applicants from 2012 and 2013 account for about 0.03% of Los Angeles County's population. Los Angeles is the county seat of Los Angeles County.

Permanent visas, also known as permanent labor certification, are approved by the Department of Labor before being issued by the USCIS and is an employment agreement that is extended to foreign workers indefinitely. Permanent visas are categorized by US economic sector. Each of these sectors reflect differently on the world map.

The diversity and the description of jobs in a particular sector (or originating from a particular country) can help us to form impressions of how newer residents from outside of the United States have contributed to the city. The immigrant's narrative is cast as imprints on a larger system, focusing on the back and forth interaction between a city's industries and the world.

This map is made using data from Enigma.io. Overview information can be found at Wikipedia, Department of Labor's Permanent Labor Certification Page, and the U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services's Permanent Workers Page"
losangeles  visas  immigration  migration  2014  maps  mapping 
april 2014 by robertogreco
Speculative Diction | Scholars without borders? Not quite. | University Affairs
"For all these reasons and undoubtedly many more, the “talent market” is clearly a deeply unequal one, and is not genuinely meritocratic; it’s a reflection, indeed an amplification, of existing inequalities. Specifically for academics, when combined with the tendency towards élite, targeted funding and emphasis on overseas recruitment of “the best”, and an increasingly stratified and fragmented academic workforce, we have to ask what the globalised (and polarised) professoriate is going to look like. If it’s going to follow the same lines as other aspects of globalisation such as so-called free trade, then I think we can do a whole lot better."
meloniefullick  elite  elitism  talentmarket  talent  inequality  highered  higheducation  academia  globalization  2013  freetrade  meritocracy  recruitment  visas 
may 2013 by robertogreco
Argentina: cobro de visas en reciprocidad | Blog de Viajes
"Todavía no hay nada firmado ni definido, pero al parecer Argentina comenzará a cobrar por el visado a los visitantes que lleguen de ciertos países. ¿Cuáles? A todos aquellos que les cobren por la visa a los argentinos, como Estados Unidos, Canadá y otras 114 naciones -la verdad, nos cobran en todos lados, parece :P. El monto sería establecido de manera recíproca; o sea, lo mismo que esas naciones cobran a los argentinos. La medida seguramente va a tener bastante apoyo político, pero dudo mucho sobre su buena recepción en el mercado turístico argentino, sobre todo ahora que las cosas ya no vienen tan bien."
argentina  travel  reciprocity  visas 
october 2008 by robertogreco

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