Queer Intercultural Communication

Colonization did more than steal land-it sought to erase entire ways of being, particularly those that defied the rigid binaries of Western systems. Queer and Two-Spirit identities, long integral to Indigenous worldviews, were among the first casualties of this erasure. Yet, these identities endure as acts of defiance and reclamation, embodying what Qwo-Li Driskill calls "the fierce remembering of histories, bodies, and communities that have been fragmented by colonial violence" (Driskill 113). Through this fierce remembering, scholars like

This article examines Bad Indians: A tribal memoir by Deborah A. Miranda in relation to the settler origin myths of California and the ways Central Coast Indigenous communities have been represented in film and literature. Against the genocidal tropes of disappearance or inevitable victimhood, Miranda’s mosaic tracing of the figure of the Bad Indian as resistance and resilience poetic shaping nonlinear genealogies and as a mode of queering kinship against intergenerational historical trauma unsettles the imagined permanence of California to regenerate a pluriverse of Indigenous land-temporalities before and after the settler narrative might end.

Asexuality and aromanticism remain understudied sites of research in interpersonal and family communication. Situated within Critical Interpersonal and Family Communication (CIFC), this study leverages affect theory to understand how asexual and aromantic people construct relationalities within a sex and romance saturated society. A critical thematic analysis of Instagram accounts run by asexual and aromantic people reveals how they create community based on their alien affect to the "happy objects" of sexual and romantic relationships. Results reveal how asexual alien affect is mobilized to critique allonormative happy objects, circulate community objects, and share alien affect with broader communities.

Loss and sacrifice are, on some level, sensations everyone knows. Such things make us feel like victims, like we've given of ourselves more than we knew we could offer, more than we received in return, like we've given up something valuable and can't ever get it back. Inevitably, loss and sacrifice are also what most of us would identify as isolating events; we tend to see ourselves as living loss and sacrifice alone… [That said] loss, in many ways, is about gain…Loss and sacrifice, if they are to matter-if they are to have meaning-should be remembered, should be acknowledged, should be appreciated. (Fassett and Warren 139) John and I wrote the above insights about loss nearly ten years ago, knowing that we had already and would continue to live these lessons, but not in such a sudden and painful way. John's death at age 36 from advanced esophageal cancer was a surprise for us all-his family and friends, his colleagues and disciplinary community. This special issue o...

This essay concerns the body’s positioning in discussions of teaching, specifically focusing on the authors’ efforts to trace discursive invocations of teachers’ bodies by students reflecting on the teaching vocation. The authors explore, through a series of intertwined autoethnographic narratives, the research process that led them through focus group data collection and analysis, to reflections on students’ metaphorical use of the “teacher’s body” in these focus groups, to (in light of feedback from anonymous reviewers) the role of the authors’ own teachers’ bodies in constituting this research and its implications.

As scholars who are interested in the ways in which trauma and rhetoric interconnect, we believe that our field’s narrative research methods, even those rooted in ethical responsivity, too often re-traumatize participants. In this article, we respond to concerns about the re-traumatization of research participants by asserting that a decolonial understanding of trauma helps us better understand both why rhetoricians do this work and begin to address how we can better conduct research with trauma populations. We examine how trauma narratives have been taken up in rhetoric studies, and suggest a need for the field to be cautious with such narratives. Given our concern for how narrative methods re-traumatize participants, we call for rhetoric studies to purposefully adopt a decolonial orientation to trauma work to better enact an approach centered in care. Finally, we offer examples of practices that can help us, as a field, decolonize our scholarship on trauma.

As scholars who are interested in the ways in which trauma and rhetoric interconnect, we believe that our field's narrative research methods, even those rooted in ethical responsivity, too often retraumatize participants. In this article, we respond to concerns about the re-traumatization of research participants by asserting that a decolonial understanding of trauma helps us better understand both why rhetoricians do this work and begin to address how we can better conduct research with trauma populations. We examine how trauma narratives have been taken up in rhetoric studies, and suggest a need for the field to be cautious with such narratives. Given our concern for how narrative methods re-traumatize participants, we call for rhetoric studies to purposefully adopt a decolonial orientation to trauma work to better enact an approach centered in care. Finally, we offer examples of practices that can help us, as a field, decolonize our scholarship on trauma.

This autobiographical performance utilizes performative writing to respond critically to the historical archiving of gay male unions. However, by holding the dialectic of difference and connection in tension, this book chapter dives deeply into the queer union wandering different scenes within this scenario. After briefly visiting the scene of the kiss at a "Gayla," the author offers his own kissing scene at his own gay male union to highlight the differences in culture, race, class, and historical heritages, and therefore, the ways power, oppression, resistance, and agency move intersectionally through both scenes and the gay union scenario.

It is here that I realize that my task is more complicated than I originally thought. How do I look at these bodies in new ways? How do I work to see the mundane in new ways? How do I find the ruptures that I know must be therethere in the skip of the record, Robert M. Gutierrez-Perez is a doctoral student at the University of Denver in communication and culture and recently completed his M.A. in Communication Studies from San José