Jumping Borders

Border crossing seems to be among the hot topics of this scholars’ era I have inherited. From Cyber-Vato to roboticized humans to the subjects of Monday’s reading assignments, the present-day Caminata Nocturna and the Chop Suey Circuit of the mid-20^th century. We seem fascinated by notions such as creating races through the creation of spaces, we are on the lookout for instances of assimilation in tension with cultural pride, we like to talk about the subversive act of departing areas of belonging.

When we look to maps, city limits, district zones and state lines, we can speak with confidence about border crossing because even highly theoretical or philosophical musings somehow seem based in tangible fact when we have a measurable “space” to ground ourselves in. The more porous and less regulated the border, the more ethereal the dialogue becomes. Who can reign in dialogue when we address borders of understanding, borders of memory, and borders of self-identity? It seems that the less stable the actual GROUND, the more abstract we become in our relationship to it.

I am interested in the perpetuation of delineation in instances where the borders are not neatly marked or defined. How can the simple IDEA or SUGGESTION of a border be effective in containing humans be it physically or mentally done? Do we cross “borders” internally? If a fence is not discernible, if no wall or physical barricade is there, what substance are we dealing with? Fear? I can think of instances where fear succeeds in creating borders. Is there anything else? Pride? Can I decide to remain within my assigned spot because I have pride in the culture or place of my origin? The Caminata enactments are reportedly steeped in pride of this kind. If so, is it reasonable to say that the suspicions of those believing the performance to be a dry run for actual illegal border crossing is debunked?

And aren’t all borders imaginary, anyway? I recall, early in my LSU college career, being exposed to material which altered my perception of time. Time always seemed very REAL to me. I live in a society where time is one of the main measurements that regulate my actions. Time dictates when I can and cannot carry out certain physical tasks. It is what ensures that I am in a certain place when I have to be. It is frowned upon if I have a loose faithfulness to deadline, class time, work time. I always felt frustrated with those who claimed that time was not real.  Try living as though time does not exist and you will end up paying dearly. BUT…in a very real sense, time does not exist, it is simply a construct…an agreement. I feel the same about borders. Borders are born of a sense of entitlement, a sense of fear, a need for protection. In the pre-ordered world, did they exist? If we stopped talking about them, would they diminish in power? If border-crossing was no longer a sexy scholar’s topic, would they take over and become unmanageable or would they simply atrophy?

I have no aversion to the border banter, just interested in what might happen if we ceased talking about things we seem to have simply made up in the first place.