On the road winding out of White River, I passed this man walking. Having stopped in the town for fuel, the poverty felt oppressive. 95 degrees (F) and tons of flying grasshoppers littered the road, unmoving. How I “read” this scene is influenced by the wealth, power, and position I have. Any post-colonial perspective, feminist or not, needs to account for the self. As a white, middle class woman, I recognize my understanding of this scene: how I frame it, the metaphorical value I laden by title are simply and only my reading, and not suggestive of anything universal. It is with this understanding that this work, and its companion work, “What Felled You is Important” situate a very partial (re)presentation of poverty and race.
Companion Work: What Felled You is Important