This blog, in a lot of ways, is the result of putting into action my previous blog, and to get a better gist of what the workshop itself entailed, please see that blog.

In running a workshop on GIS mapping using 3D-printed maps and pins, one conclusion, point of error, questions to consider (call it what you will) came to mind: when practicing a Digital Humanities workshop aimed at teaching a specific digital tool without the digital, while also using Latinx materials, what is it that gets missed? Is it possible to do due diligence on both fields in a limited time with an audience of mixed knowledge? Does the digital tool come before the context of the world in which it is used? And why do these questions trouble me so much? Am I alone in my concerns?

By all of these questions, what I mean to ask, reworded, is there and does there have to be a difference between teaching the workshop I did in a future Latinx class with a DH section on the syllabus versus running a workshop with a general DH group on a Latinx topic while focusing not on the Latinx portion but instead the mechanics of a tool? Theoretically, in a Latinx topic class, the history and specifics of what is being plotted, which in this case were different Latin American migrant experiences in the country of Mexico, would already be explained in lectures and readings. There are no underlying assumptions of knowledge left open in the conversation fostered in a classroom with students. A general workshop functions a little differently, especially given time constraints and the fact that it’s a one-day event, and, at the end of the day, a single skill or specific point is valued.

Admittedly, in the last post, I left out the details of the sixteen flashcards in part because making them took a bit longer than I expected. Just like any other teaching material, the details and specifics mattered an unbelievable amount. So, I did what any literature major would do: I drew on my training and tried to ensure that the stories/narratives were as centered as possible. In practice, this means that nearly all the sixteen flashcards are snippets from documentaries, novels, memoirs, and government documents. This project, at its heart, was one of critical making, using 3D printing to embody the work of literary studies.

Once again, in a Latinx studies classroom, I would never run the workshop before spending time on the histories of Latin American migrations and the differences across decades. For example, in the early 2000s, into the turn of the second decade of the 21st century, there was an increase in unaccompanied children from across Central American countries fleeing gang violence, which was a direct result of the Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act of 1996 (IIRIRA), which is a different moment, with its own specifics, of a broader history (Arias 2012). What is being written about and documented reflects this period. Therefore, the flashcards also aim to reflect not only the different migrant experiences in Mexico but also who is migrating. In my previous blog post, I used Ana Patricia Rodriguez’s framework of accompaniment to argue that, by plotting the flashcards onto the map, a participant is also “positioned, if not prodded, to question the conditions.” The hope in a classroom is that students can see the differences across decades as they plot the snippets and be “prodded” to make connections. Turns out, in a workshop, this is slightly harder to pull off successfully.

Answers to my Questions

I didn’t realize just how much I would appreciate the act of running a workshop, the practice it would provide, and all the questions it would raise for me as a teacher. I say this not as a value judgment but as a point of improvement and awareness: in many ways, the workshop failed. I failed. And I love the fact that I failed. And next time I might fail again, and I might not, but I look forward to it nonetheless. Because in failure and in writing this blog, the answers to my own questions, at least for myself, become slowly clearer and clearer. So, I will now answer the questions using the experience of the workshop itself. What gets missed? I learned that if we center a digital tool too much and not the world it is situated in, the Latinx histories fall a little to the side. Once again, my failure. Is it possible to do due diligence on both fields? That one is a little harder for me because the reality is similar to Environmental humanities, where Priscilla Solis Ybarra, David Vazquez, and many more have demonstrated gaps of Latinx representation in other fields, but also a mirrored gap in Latinx studies. These gaps complicate one’s ability to do full diligence in a limited time. I repeat, my failure. Does the tool come before the world? On the day of this workshop, it did. In part because the intent of the workshop was to teach the tool, and I focused on that too. Why do these questions bother me so much? Question for a later day. Would I teach it differently in my future Latinx studies class? Absolutely.

As part of my tradition, a place of thanks. I am so very grateful to have had the opportunity to run this workshop and to find joy not only in critical making but also in failing. I want to not only thank my praxis group and those who were there for the workshop, but also my amazing advisors who encourage all my side-quests, even when they include ducks.

References

Arias, Arturo. “Central American-Americans in the Second Decade of the Twenty-First Century: Old Scars, New Traumas, Disempowering Travails.” Diálogo, vol. 15, no. 1 (2012): pp. 4-16.

Vázquez, David J. Decolonial Environmentalisms: Climate Justice and Speculative Futures In Latinx Cultural Production. Austin: University of Texas Press, 2025.

Ybarra, Priscilla Solis. Writing the Goodlife: Mexican American Literature and the Environment. Tucson: The University of Arizona Press, 2016.

Geographic Information System (GIS) mapping attaches a dataset to a specific space and place, substantiating a relationship between the two as not only directly related but as affected by or moved to that specific point on a map. However, when thinking about how to teach a workshop on mapping to a group, one problem came to mind: we are in a generation with a profound lack of relationship to and with maps and the locations of countries. Which, in general, is its own point of discussion; however, when considering migration and mapping, a recognition of this lack became a focus for me. The question formed: how do I first get people not only to see, but really understand this non-relationship?

As students, we shape our own archives, perceptions, and pedagogy through the scholars we read and encounter. The scholar whose work inspired this very workshop, and answered the questions I wrestled with, is Ana Patricia Rodriguez. I was guided through my approach by both her first monograph, Dividing the Isthmus: Central American Transnational Histories, Literature, and Cultures, and her article, “The Art of (Un)Accompaniment: Salvadoran Child Refugee Narratives in the Twenty-first Century.” (10 out of 10 recommend others read both)

First The Non-Relationship

Rodriquez begins her monograph’s introduction with an activity she runs in her classroom. I pull that activity and use it as my own introduction to not mapping, but maps. The assumption I make is clear- Latin American countries do not and will not register as located within the group’s imagination. The lack is made evident. Now, no spoilers, go read her book. This part of the workshop will use 3D-printed or woodcut materials, is theoretically brief, and allows me to transition from map to mapping by asking them questions. I don’t know what I will ask quite yet, but they will be fantastic questions.

Accompaniment as Pedagogy

Next point of inspiration. First, the question. How can I make a GIS mapping workshop interactive and include a dataset based on migrant experiences in Mexico? Rodriguez’s article introduced me to the work on accompaniment. In this article, her reading of Javier Zamora’s Unaccompanied (also a book everyone should read), theorizes “a poetics of un/accompaniment” where,

The poems create a path of accompaniment of critical empathy for readers to follow literally and literarily the migratory routes of child migrants … It is in this process of accompaniment that readers are positioned, if not prodded, to question the conditions that produce child migration and the legal violence of migration policies, which shape the outcomes of arrival, detention, exclusion, and deportation, especially for women and children.

The accompaniment that Rodriguez traces in Zamora’s works and literature builds on scholarship and research on accompaniment in movements and research, but ties it to migration. Poetry and narratives create a different space for “readers to follow” migrants on their route to the United States. This, along with the ways readers are “positioned, if not prodded, to question the conditions,” prompted me to consider how a hands-on GIS workshop almost inherently, and unintentionally, seeks to enact an accompaniment. This is not to claim that there is a perfect or unflawed relationship between mapping and accompaniment. The accompaniment will shift a bit in its movement to the digital and/or in the making of narratives into data points. However, through accompaniment, what became clear was that what I considered to be simply an inherent relationship between place and data was flawed when I maintained it as inherent rather than as something to be questioned and interrogated.

The reality is that datasets can risk reducing humans to bodies in the very act of transforming information into points plotted on a map. That risk is exacerbated when the lack of relationship to a map is already present, and all a viewer intakes is a map filled with marks, even when they attempt to filter and narrow the scope of what they are looking at. With that, can embedding the mapping of points as a process of accompaniment shift how a viewer or a mapper processes a large, complex dataset? And is this shift my pedagogical framework? No clue, I will get back to you on that one.

The Actual Workshop

The nitty-gritty part of this actual blog post. Bear with me. In groups, people will be given a 3D-printed or woodcut of México, with holes already embedded into the country. These will be the data points (holes, literally just holes already made in the map) and pins, sized to fit them. The holes are rendered as a permanent facet of the map due to the nature of 3D printing, which makes me consider how the stories and narratives the map represents are always present, whether they are pinned and mapped or not. Which, by no means, should be uncomplicated, we should always consider why data gets mapped, what it is meant to demonstrate, what ends up entering, and what is left out and excluded.

Along with the country, they will also be given a mix of 14 notecards; on the front, each will have a year, the migrants’ nationality, and gender. In a longer workshop, I would leave parts of the data set unlabeled and have participants read the narrative on the other side and fill in the data themselves. Making data collection part of the activity and including a brief interrogation of what we synthesize and ultimately prioritize.

Slowly but surely, they will place a pin on the 3D map at the final location in Mexico mentioned in the narrative, where the hole already exists. By this point, the idea is that each pin they place on the map will serve as an act of accompaniment.

After they finish plotting all the index cards, the hope is that the participant will also be struck by the magnitude and scatter of a map filled with data points everywhere. It is here that the final questions address an essential part of GIS mapping: how does one filter through large datasets? How important were those labels at the front of the card to begin with? How do all the parts work together? Does this data filtering return us to a different directionality of accompaniment? These questions, along with this workshop, are truly a work in progress. While the process of prototyping countries and pins has taught me so many things (like patience and a love of failure), there is still so much I cannot yet estimate. And any comments or suggestions are always welcomed with gratitude.

Finally, I have a big rule about recognizing the role people play in helping me make a chaotic idea from my imagination feel and become tangible. None of this would have been possible without the Makerspace, Ammon, Shane, Brandon, and, lastly, David Coyoca, the man I bother with all my questions about teaching, and who helped me sort through the chaos that is my brainstorming. This final version-in-process would not have been possible without the team effort that praxis encourages. 10 out of 10. Thank you.

References Rodriguez, Ana Patricia. 2009. Dividing the Isthmus: Central American Transnational Histories, Literature, and Cultures. Austin: University of Texas Press

———— 2025 “The Art of (Un)Accompaniment: Salvadoran Child Refugee Narratives in the Twenty-first Century,” Studies in 20th & 21st Century Literature: Vol. 49: Iss. 1, Article 8. https://doi.org/10.4148/2334-4415.2281

The questions I have received while in grad school: What field and discipline are you in? What is your research specifically focused on? What is the topic of your dissertation? All great questions. Questions that know how to give a student a certain amount of anxiety, depending on what year they are in. But great questions nonetheless. These are the questions I have been trained to answer. I expect them. I have varying answers depending on who is asking. So, imagine my surprise when, instead, I am asked by Praxis: What is it that you want to get out of this program? What does community look like to you, and what goes into maintaining a group’s wellness? At the heart of it, what is it that you care about? Finally, truly, the most important question of the bunch- what is your individual superpower? And if it has not been made evident quite yet, mine was deemed sarcasm. And that is the only question and answer that matters. And if I believed I could end this post exactly here (without vaguely getting scolded), I absolutely would. But, alas, probably not a good idea in the first couple of weeks. So, instead, I finish with honesty. I can honestly say that Praxis has left me with more questions than ever. I don’t know that I can answer all the questions quite yet, and I am okay with that. For now, I know with certainty that I care about my community more than anything. And that, that is enough for me.