Abstract
As burgeoning new forms of authoritarianism and fascism expand their reach, Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis stem from the locus of the present moment. Constellations of peoples re-rooted into place refuse Western ideals of democracy and development and engage with one another in new arrangements based on ancestral ways of knowing. In this Environment and Planning E: Nature and Space issue on Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis (GgsHope-in-Praxis), we step into ongoing conversations about hope, push back on business as usual, and amplify understandings of initiatives to (re)assemble different kinds of wor(l)ds. Our collection “geographizes” hope by digging into hope’s praxes—theories with action. Resurgent versions of hope can be better understood within the contexts of six dimensions—place, alliance, the unthinkable, perseverance, resilience, and the (im)possible—that provide diverse lenses for delving deeper into hope's complex topographies. Together, the articles reach across regional differences and bridge on-the-ground approaches. We activate hope through long-term, reciprocal, and accountable community-based methodologies in Brazil, Ecuador, the Philippines, and Southeast Alaska, California, and Kentucky in the USA. GgsHope-in-Praxis come to life in the process of collaboratively decolonizing relations and regenerating relational spaces. Vines of hope creep into crevices to interrupt and transform oppressive systems, intertwine to (re)weave localized communities together in living networks, and expand realities to increasingly join in solidarity with one another and amplify diverse pathways towards environmental-with-racial justices.
In this Environment and Planning E: Nature and Space (EPE) issue on Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis, we step into ongoing conversations about hope, push back on business as usual, and amplify understandings of initiatives to (re)assemble different kinds of wor(l)ds. 1 When hopelessness can be so pervasive throughout the planet, the authors collectively question the critical geographies that accentuate, perpetuate, and reify “geographies of violence” 2 Our collection “geographizes” (Colectivo Geografía Crítica de Ecuador, 2017) hope by digging into hope's praxes 3 —theories with action. Our different approaches to geographizing hope are founded upon Maori scholar Linda Tuhiwai Smith's (1999) definition of decolonizing methodologies as Indigenous-led re-searching, re-claiming, and re-presenting “official” versions of history (and life). “Walking with” (Sundberg, 2006: 2: Walsh, 2015) economically marginalized and racialized communities, we call the terrain we traverse “Geographies of Hope” (henceforth, GgsHope). GgsHope are spatiotemporal processes where place-based peoples (together with their allies) are reconstituting law, territories, and more hopeful ways of knowing, doing, and being in the world.
As burgeoning new forms of authoritarianism and fascism expand their reach (McCarthy, 2019; Scoones et al., 2017), Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis (GgsHope-in-Praxis from here forward) stem from the locus of the present moment. With increased experiences of sharing diverse stories and creating a unified, shared story about colonial processes, Indigenous, Black, and other place-based communities gather and offer governance proposals based on self-determination/sovereignty emerging from culturally specific ways of seeing and being in the world. Constellations of peoples re-rooted into place refuse Western ideals of democracy and development 4 and engage with one another in new arrangements based on ancestral ways of knowing. As localized international alliances grow more robust, possibilities for intersections between environmental and racial justice break open. For those committed to “walking with,” a choice arises: whether and how to join arm-in-arm in both regenerating what has been ever-present for place-based peoples and decolonizing hope, its practice, and its meaning within and beyond Western cosmovisions.
GgsHope-in-Praxis queries offer new directions and holistic strategies for emphasizing justice in human geography. How is hope spatially produced and practiced? How might we grasp GgsHope as both emerging and ever-woven into persistent, centuries-long resurgences of peoples facing colonial states? What do diverse praxes of hope concretely look like? And how might we collaboratively constellate and strengthen diverse GgsHope-in-Praxis?
These queries borrow theoretical and methodological approaches across disciplines to study how power—struggles between oppression and liberation—works through place and space. GgsHope-in-Praxis are constituted by resurgent uprisings—“rooted networks” (Rocheleau, 2016) 5 or “meshworks” (Escobar, 2008) of decolonial and regenerative activisms. These movements join forces to prune back and compost entangled environmentally racist hegemonies, structures, and practices to nourish grounds for replanting seeds of self-determinative ways to (re)exist. 6 We tend to foundational rootstocks that concurrently carry ancestral ways of being forward and hold the potential to branch out in unforeseen ways. Increasingly, people call to celebrate harvesting the fruits of re-invigorated environmental-with-racial justice assemblages.
Materializing GgsHope-in-Praxis involves multiple temporalities—memory, lived experience, relational understandings of time, simultaneity, dialectical movement instead of linearity, and thus co-existence of colonial/decolonial—reaching across and re-writing histories and futures (Bawaka Country et al., 2017). It also includes multiple spatialities that expand out from localities—bodies, communities, and places (Motta, 2018; Vazquez, 2017). Spatialities also transform. When people de-center and re-center, “sacrifice zones” 7 hold the transformative potential to become “territories of hope” (Zibechi, 2012; Mançano Fernandes, this issue) or “territories of life” (Ballvé, 2013).
Black feminist and anti-colonial geographer Katherine McKittrick (2011) emphasizes Black diasporic communities’ sense of place embodied in multiple “roots and routes,” a concept put forward by Jamaican–British Sociologist Stuart Hall (1999). Racialized territories of hope can be conceptualized as “rooting/routing zones,” amenable to rooted networks and meshworks. Mississauga Nishnaabeg scholar, poet, and activist Leanne Betasamoke Simpson (2001, 2011, 2017) similarly puts forward a vision of “co-constellations of resistance” (Daigle and Ramírez, 2018) between Indigenous, Black, and other racialized communities.
Through racial capitalism frameworks, the contributors to this issue converse with Indigenous and Black science and geographies 8 that emphasize both Indigenous political ecology 9 and pluriversal 10 approaches. We situate ourselves and are situated within pluricultural Indigenous, place-based, anti-racist, post-humanist, abolitionist, and feminist geographies 11 that uphold and embody integral and relational values of knowing, doing, and being in the world 12 and collaborative, intercultural struggles. These geographies also contribute to feminist work on “outlaw emotions”—the idea that outrage, grief, joy, fear, and hope have epistemological power and call forth dynamics to explore. Further, when collectively shared, emotions provide vital insights about what needs to change. 13 Similarly, multispecies theorizing of empathetic entanglements 14 can reveal structural violence and move us to care about and relate ourselves to capitalist power, dispossession, and differential incorporation, as politics. 15 Questioning universal, linear notions of development, our research move toward pluriversal liberatory pathways relative to social movements, 16 political ecology, 17 and post-development/extractivism. 18
The decolonizing praxes arising from these options are not intended to be comprehensive. Rather the collection creates spaces for different perspectives about and approaches to decolonizing and/or regenerating hope to be in conversation with one another. Each author draws most strongly on theory–practice dynamics at work in or engaged by the place-based communities with whom she/he is walking. Hazlewood, Mançano Fernandes, Middleton Manning, and Wright's contributions engage and deepen “Global South” conversations based in decolonial thinking and (de)coloniality that Latin American and Caribbean scholar-activists in particular have expanded upon since the late 1990s. 19 Graddy-Lovelace, Middleton Manning, and Thornton and Hope's articles reflect on processes in the settler states of North America introducing anti-racist, anti-colonial discussions that underscore sovereignty within settler colonialism. 20 Together, the articles reach across regional differences and bridge on-the-ground approaches.
The papers’ theoretical and thematic diversity nods to the decolonial Zapatista political vision of a pluriverse, “a world where many worlds fit” (Escobar, 2018: xvi) and Radcliffe's (2022) conceptualization of “decolonial plurigeographies”, underscored by Okamoto (2022). The authors in this EPE issue seek “...to take responsibility and actively work to overturn racialized assumptions and exclusions”—one aspect of decolonial plurigeographies, as described by Okamoto. Standing with Tuck and Yang's (2012) manifesto that decolonization is not a metaphor, we recognize that reckoning and reparations for wrongdoings are necessary. Toward that end, our contributors refuse the confines of academic knowledge production. We deem it necessary to self-reflect on how coloniality is infused into all our positionalities and the extractive foundations/structures/practices of our affiliate institutions. 21 The spaces in which we work—non-profit, government, international, and academic institutions in both hemispheres—demand varied modalities of engaging with liberal and modern settler states, all with particular openings and limits to refusal and resurgence. Wrestling with each of our own relationships to these spaces and sustaining conversations across them, we work to push, stretch, challenge, and transcend borders between us. In so doing, we entwine and aim to catalyze more hopeful decolonial and anti-racist alternatives within environmental justice.
Weaving our works together is the recognition of what racialized and marginalized peoples and communities have been doing under conditions not of their own choosing for centuries: putting relationships first. GgsHope-in-Praxis foreground collective (re)existing in pluriversal relations, while never losing sight of the power geometries (Massey 1994, 1999) that condition them in time and space. Together, the papers make visible and palpable the always-already interconnectedness of places where people cultivate territories of hope and, thus, the strands with which to help weave many worlds co-resisting together. A mix of academics, scholar-activists, and poets and our contributions (re)assert that transformative processes take root by collaboratively activating hope in home communities and/or through long-term, reciprocal, and accountable research relations with peoples and places across the world: Brazil, Ecuador, the Philippines, and Southeast Alaska, California, and Kentucky in the USA.
As authors of the introduction to this special issue, Hazlewood, Middleton Manning, and Casolo represent many communities. Beginning around 2010, we recognized ourselves in one another—our commitment to community-led praxis, hope, and healing. This issue reflects and builds upon the collaborations we have developed both with one another and in partnership with diverse communities working for justice. In divergent ways, we each have tried to walk the line between activism and academia and strive to journey alongside Indigenous and racialized communities as collaborators, co-creating spaces to strengthen intercultural solidarities and insisting on reparations.
Geographies of Hope grapple with the complexities of hope, confronting historical and ongoing exclusions, designation of non-personhood for racialized persons, dispossession of ancestral lands, and differential incorporation of impoverished and marginalized persons that sustain late liberal capitalist states and economies (Gilmore, 2002; McKinnon, 2013). To articulate critical geographies and hope, we posit three dependencies: (1) Hope needs critique—critical, decolonial, and anti-colonial perspectives avoid forms of naive optimism in the face of multiple structural inequalities and dispossessions; (2) Critique needs hope as grounded in actions toward collaboratively regenerating relational ways of knowing (epistemologies), doing (methodologies), and being (ontologies); and (3) both hope and critique are empty without material accountability and reparations (Tuck and Yang, 2012) to Indigenous, Black, and other place-based peoples. Those positioned on the frontlines draw on long lineages of both hope and critique. Their actions deepen and expand GgsHope by “…re-root[ing] and re-rout[ing] toward more accountable relations” (Daigle and Ramírez, 2018: 5). 22
Going beyond dialogue by engaging in “polylogue” (Black, 2010; Convivial Thinking, n.d.), GgsHope-in-Praxis are being built from the ground up and across long lineages of polycentric struggles to collaboratively decolonize relations and regenerate relational spaces of environmental-with-racial justices. In reflecting on hope's often turbulent pathways, a two-fold question comes to light: How has hope transformed geography? And how has geography opened up, textured, decolonized, and regenerated hope? Next, we trace the roots and routes of those questions.
The roots and routes of Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis
The roots of hope in geography—its multidimensional and space–time aspects—matter. The plurality of Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis lies in the multiple and shifting ways that geographers reinterpret and place hope. Fifteen-plus years ago, when some contributors to this volume 23 began writing research proposals, presentations, and articles about “Geographies of Hope,” the literature articulating geography with theories of hope was very limited 24 In Spaces of Hope ( 2000 ), David Harvey addressed globalization and the body. Engaging with Marx's writings to reflect on the limits of utopian movements, he proposed “dialectical utopianism” and laid out a personal utopian vision. Still, to our knowledge, Harvey's re-introduction of hope in geography did not catalyze any network around hope. Thus, we were unaware of one another's work, and we were not able to recognize it as a coherent literature.
In the wake of George Bush II's re-election and “politics of fear” infused into “the war on terror,” the 2005 Association of American Geographers (AAG) annual meetings in Denver changed that isolation. Victoria Lawson—now an Emeritus Professor in Geography at the University of Washington—organized a presidential plenary session on “Geographies of Fear and Hope” based on “understanding fear's effects and transcending them by theorizing and enacting hopeful alternatives” (Lawson, 2007b: 335). 25 Lawson endeavored to inspire radical and critical geographers scholars on the left to move beyond the dominance of negative critique and to think beyond hope as something to cling to when things are tough. The plenary session collectively investigated how, where, and when hope can be a powerful mobilizing force for collective action. Albeit their articles still engaged more robustly with fear than with hope, Lawson's framework blazoned a new path for hope in geography. 26
Soon after, Ben Anderson and Jill Fenton (2008: 77) co-edited a special edition of Space and Culture: “Spaces of Hope,” which added to conversations about emotions and affect as ordinary, routine aspects of life through articles that bear witness to (in)determinate hopes and hoping as emergent, everyday phenomena. 27 Also in 2008, “hopeful geographies” work in a special issue of Asia Pacific Viewpoint 28 addressed hope within the flat ontologies debates (when vertical and horizontal scales collapse into one another). 29 In that issue, McKinnon et al. (2008: 279) suggested this: “Rather than looking to the hope of a future transformed world, or victory over injustice, [hopeful geographies] is a project of locating the glimmers of possibility that exist in the here and now and supporting them.”
Significantly, Sarah Wright's groundbreaking work initiated GgsHope-in-Praxis literature in the making. For Wright (2008, 2010), as made evident in the everyday economic struggles of the people of the village of Puno in the Philippines, “Hope and resilience are found in surprising places. Our world resounds with practices of possibility that persist in tenacious defiance of the oppressions that characterize so much of existence” [emphasis added] (2008: 1).
Author, conservationist, and activist Wallace Stegner 30 was the first known person to coin the term “geographies of hope” in his 1960, “wilderness letter” on why federal protection of places is important (Stegner, 1960; Wilderness.org, n.d.). Independent of (and almost simultaneous to) GgsHope in Geography within academia, in 2008 California's West Marin County-based non-profit Black Mountain Circle initiated their first of nine Geography of Hope (GoH) Conferences (2008–2019) (Costa, 2021). At first focusing on Stegner, then women's relationships with the land, followed by an emphasis on the wisdom of trees and caring for forests, the last years of GoH brought together Black, Indigenous peoples, and other people of color from across the USA, who mobilize diverse approaches to sustainable relationality and environmental justice (Tully, 2021).
Bridging these divergent routes and diverse sites to understand hope's intricacies, this special issue builds on these endeavors within and beyond the academy to geographize hope. Its trajectory began at the 2013 Geographies of Hope Symposium, 31 during the Association of American Geographers (AAG) annual meeting in Los Angeles, California. Intersecting with one of that year's featured themes—Activist Geographies: Struggles for Social and Environmental Justice—the GgsHope Symposium explored a plurality of approaches to, understandings of, and implications for hope. 32 Increasingly, GgsHope have become an expansive transdisciplinary, multilayered literature grounded in Brazilian Educator Paulo Freire's insistence that “Hope is an ontological need. Hopelessness is but hope that has lost its bearings, and become a distortion of that ontological need” (Freire, 1994: 2). 33
The contributions in this issue dance between expressions of that ontological need and the concrete work that hope as an active force does—how expressions of hope crack open existing structures of oppression. They unearth deep-seeded hope that rises from within, collectively refusing and resisting erasures and dispossessions while remembering and regenerating alternative ways of existing in the world. Countering the predominant critique that hope is pie in the sky—a merely “fantastical narrative” that silences historical, colonial inequalities between Indigenous, Black, and white people (Whyte, 2018b: 48)—GgsHope-in-Praxis starts from the everyday and the material. Our authors build on non-deterministic approaches that prioritize localized forms of analysis and humility in knowledge-making, while not fetishizing or reducing our analysis to “the local.” Attempting to integrate structural and discursive critique and ethical refusals with ground-up initiatives and co-constellations of diverse, multiple uprisings to decolonize and regenerate environmental-with-racial justices, we contribute to counteracting historical inequalities. Ultimately, the articles in this issue collectively offer a six-dimensional approach to epistemologies, methodologies, and ontologies that inform GgsHope-in-Praxis.
Six dimensions of GgsHope-in-Praxis: Decolonizing/regenerating pluricultural environmental-with-racial justices
Unpacking what is meant by decolonizing is tough. As Michelle Daigle (Muskegowuk) and Margaret Marietta Ramírez (2018: 1) explain, “There is an impossibility to defining this work, for there is no clearly defined structure that neatly traces and binds decolonial geographies.” Yellowknives Dene scholar Glen Coulthard (2014) argues for a resurgent politics of recognition— not recognition built from by the hegemonic center but rather cultural practices of individual and collective self-fashioning that prefigure radical alternatives to colonial power. In this vein, the methodologies of decolonizing/regenerating inherent to GgsHope-in-Praxis are contingent upon peoples’ localities, histories, and relations to traditional and ancestral territories. Our articles accordingly respect diversely situated peoples’ rights to self-determination/sovereignty in relation to how they carve out liberatory paths to resurgence—be it refusal, resistance, or rebuilding of the architecture of nation-states to be plurinational, like the decades-long and exemplary Indigenous movements in Bolivia and Ecuador.
We bring together notions of “contact zones” 34 and “refusal” 35 to (re)conceptualize hope as both lone stars and constellations of collective action that spark, deepen, and/or mobilize (de)colonial encounters—contact zones of refusing oppressive capitalist, colonial, and racialized norms. Joseph (1998) unpacks the word encounter—with the Latin roots in and contra; these highlight forced/unexpected relation with and, simultaneously, against. This issue grapples with what Eduardo Galeano calls re-encuentro [re-encounter] (Nktaa, 2011): how GgsHope-in-Praxis regenerate methodologies of (re)existing within and in relation to new articulations of (de)colonial re-encounters.
The articles maintain that resistance to colonial processes and structures can be conceptualized as “moments of no.” (De)coloniality includes the collision of (a) the paternalistic, oppressive no of coloniality, e.g., “No, you can’t be different—you must be like us,” and (b) the “no” inherent to the foundations of decoloniality—processes of resisting/insisting on (re)existing and “continuance” (Vezener) of culturally specific ways, e.g., “No, we will not conform to what you are imposing upon us and our home/territory.” In this spirit of resurgent uprisings, we refer to musical theorist, Bob Marley (2017): We refuse to be What you wanted us to be We are who we are And that's the way it's going to be.
Refusal includes geographical processes beyond just resistance to. Building on Fanon, Coulthard (2014: 169) explains that even actions embodying moments of no that seem merely reactive, like blockades, disrupt and simultaneously contain: …a resounding “yes”: they are the affirmative enactment of another modality of being, a different way of relating to the world…a way of life, another form of community. They embody through praxis our ancestral obligations to protect the lands that are core to who we are as Indigenous peoples.”
For Galeano, such no/yes borderlands are the present, both “shitty” and “pregnant with other possible worlds” (Nktaa, 2011). Saying “no” to harmful laws, processes, and frameworks, therefore, is a prerequisite to saying “yes” to what is hopeful. Daigle and Ramírez (2018: 3) concur: “Refusal is liberation from the violent fractures of settler colonialism and white supremacist structure. Yet, liberation also builds on refusal through a resounding affirmation and embodiment of alternative relationalities.”
This yes, this (re) embodiment of alternate relationalities, is regenerative. Decolonization and regeneration are two sides of the same process. Social change happens through organized movements that push on the margins of policy that both invades and respects. Our collective maintains that when social transformations towards justice and liberation are the goal, GgsHope-in-Praxis can emerge and/or be conscientiously constructed. As Dianne Rocheleau (2018, personal communication) shares, “Hope is confronting the unthinkable and impossible, and doing it anyway.” Moreover, making the choice to sustain a resurgent sense of hope for the long haul, despite everything else, is a radical act.
In coming together to forge hopeful pathways forward, we simultaneously break through the impossible by materializing political imaginaries of environmental-with-racial justices. By pushing forward through ebbs and flows of hope to operationalize multifaceted “moments of no/yes,” hope's multidimensionality becomes easier to discern.
The articles in this issue show how GgsHope-in-Praxis constitute meshworks that decolonize/regenerate in multifaceted and shape-shifting ways, contingent upon geopolitical and geoeconomic processes. Interdimensional notions of hope in the context of resurgence politics are inseparable from taking action towards the (im)possible. When pursuing the (im)possible, it is not uncommon that hope flares up, glimmers, and fades. Our inability to put our finger on hope's ephemeral essence is also how hope enchants us forward. It has become a focus of philosophers, anthropologists, historians, theologians, educators, economists, ecologists, conservationists, humanists, and scholar-activists. Theories of hope take shape in relation to histories and geographies that threaten life, as well as in relation to those that obscure those threats. Hope is contextual. 36
Therefore, resurgent versions of hope can be better understood within the contexts of six dimensions—place, alliance, the unthinkable, perseverance, resilience, and the (im)possible—that provide diverse lenses for delving deeper into hope's complex topographies. The six subsections discussing the dimensions of hope below are entry points through which readers are invited to think through and expand co-constellations of GgsHope-in-Praxis with us. In each subsection, we unpack that dimension of hope and how the articles contribute to previous related conversations. Because we talk about GgsHope in praxis, all contributing authors to this special issue wrestle through hope in relation to the first dimension below: place. Then, as not all the articles discuss the other dimensions, we highlight certain authors and not others in the subsequent subsections. We present authors’ work in alphabetical order of last names, except when underlining certain links between articles.
Place: Living territories, ecologies, and economies of hope
Place matters. 37 The Dictionary of Human Geography (Rogers et al., 2013) defines place as the following: “1) A fixed point on the Earth's surface; 2) A locus of individual and group identity; 3) The scale of everyday life.” Countering the utopic understanding of hope as placeless, all authors in this issue show how GgsHope-in-Praxis are expressed materially in and through places and in relationships between human beings and other-than-human beings in diverse terrains.
Place is a terrain underfoot, an origin point for enunciating hope. It is constituted by dense, multi-scalar, and networked nodes that inform social relations and vice versa, so that place itself and identity are dynamic and changing (Massey, 1994, 1999; Swyngedouw, 1997). lPlace as a relational dimension (Hart, 2018) activates hope in a broader, interconnected landscape, an “Earth Democracy” of living territories, ecologies, and economies (Shiva, 2005). Place holds potentiality for re-invigorating relationships to the living world around us and ancestral, Indigenous, and feminist relational ontologies and cosmologies, which O’odham/Chicano/Anglo Dennis Martinez (2008) calls kincentricity. Place-based hope in our articles defends a polyculture of ways of being in the world against a homogenizing concept of humanity as superior to the living world around them (Krenak, 2020). We advocate for a decolonial sense of place (Motta, 2018, Vazquez, 2017), where one feels connected to where they live, protects sovereignty/self-determination within ancestral territories, and works to regenerate life in all its profusion. As such, the place dimension involves making and re-making many interconnected worlds of living political-cultural ecologies of hope, 38 which can be understood as a pluriverse of cultural sustainabilities.
Creating living economies is inseparable from ecologies that are prolific and flourishing—the very basis of place-based hope. Place-based economies possibly invoke diverse cultural versions of “decolonizing degrowth” (Nirmal and Rocheleau, 2019; Thomson, 2011) and of “belonging”, 39 where place informs identity. In contrast, colonizing profit-oriented economic processes extract, displace, marginalize, and designate such cultural ways of being in the Global North as underdeveloped, even non-modern impediments to both growth and development (Escobar, 1994; Esteva, 2011). Living, place-based economies, however, assert embodied resurgences safeguarding territories and/or demanding repatriation of ancestral lands. 40 Degrowth 41 and the concept of “already developed” 42 lays out the goals and strategies for establishing a post-extractive world—one that values the well-being of all life on Earth over profit. 43
In our articles, place-based GgsHope happen by joining conversations about and standing up for environmental-with-racial justices: diverse, intersectional ways of being in and caring for the world. Within place-oriented literature, thematic crossover exists: All authors underscore caring for the living world around us as constituting identity; 44 Wright and Mançano Fernandes contribute to agrarian reform; Middleton Manning discusses improved relations between Indigenous people and conservation; 45 Graddy-Lovelace and Mançano Fernandes speak to the meaning of land, food sovereignty and agroecologies; 46 and Hazlewood and Thornton and Hope center Indigenous self-determination and cultural revitalization. 47
Critical geographer Garrett Graddy-Lovelace analyzes the multi-scale relations that shape and are shaped by “place-based” practices, processes, and productions in the area known as Kentucky. She posits that “[p]lace-based abolitionist agrarian geographies are needed to study, trace, excavate, and learn agrarian histories and spatialities to find our way out from colonialist legacies of ecological, economic, and epistemic extraction.” She traces the emerging connections and solidarities between “rural and urban shared struggles for food sovereignty, environmental justice,” and “against carceral violence and the white supremacism therein.” Rooted in land-based love and life, these reckonings, resistances, and solidarities constitute “place-based hope in praxis.” For her, such “critical, reflexive, and place-based geography” is well-equipped to offer discerning—and hopeful—research contributions to these struggles, to forge an expansive and dialogic intellectual space to collectively remember, recognize, envision, connect, and actualize abolitionist agrarian histories, geographies, and futures—in Kentucky and beyond.
Intercultural geographer and non-profit director Julianne (Juli) A. Hazlewood tells the origin story of Roots & Routes IC, which began with Afro-Ecuadorian, Indigenous Awá, and their allies traversing multidimensional aspects of hope within their collaborative struggles toward water justice. In the Ecuador-Colombia borderlands since 1998, rainforest ancestral territories have become like islands surrounded by a sea of agroindustrial oil palm monoculture, purportedly planted to mitigate climate change, and supported by the Ecuadorian state (Lasso, 2012, 2018). Nevertheless, they demand to (re)exist. Caring for the place they call home, they maintain intra-island GgsHope by continuing cultural practices, enhancing agricultural diversity, cultivating food sovereignty, and nurturing relational ways of knowing and being in their territory.
Political ecologist Bernardo Mançano Fernandes describes Brazil's Landless Workers Movement (Movimento dos Trabalhadores Rurais Sem Terra, MST) as organizing, occupying, and cultivating “territories of hope” through long struggles at land reform based on re-existence and re-centering MST ways of life against industrial Global North models of capitalist agriculture that continually destroy localized agroecological methodologies through pollution and displacement. Coinciding with Wright and Hazlewood, he defines hope as the flickering feeling of inspiration that promotes social action.
Applied Native American studies scholar Beth Rose Middleton Manning follows Walter Echo-Hawk's (Pawnee Nation) hopeful vision of applying the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP) principles in American law and policy. Her article grounds California Indigenous peoples’ praxes of hope toward more just environmental and cultural resource planning and protection. She discusses the place-based hope-in-action required to advocate for systemic change in the sphere of environmental and cultural resource protection by Indigenous peoples and their allies. Place is recognized as central to framing people's history, language, epistemology, and spirituality, and constituting their relationship to creation, past, present, and future. Hope work entails caring for places as relatives.
Activist anthropologist Thomas Thornton and Alaska Native poet and scholar Ishmael Angaluuk Hope (Tlingit, Iñupiaq) awaken us to Tlingit communities’ deep, place-based practices of sustenance in the face of incursions on both their physical and sociocultural territories. Tlingit community members sustain Indigenous economic relations that reinforce cultural values and ancestral interconnections to place, history/context, and one another. Amidst territorial dynamics in Southeast Alaska, where Alaska Native Corporations created by the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act (ANCSA) have been designed to generate profit through extractive practices such as aggressive timber harvest, hope is generated through the enactment of protocols between the living and their ancestors and between human and non-human beings. By delving into how Tlingit GgsHope are constituted by maintaining and re-invigorating place-names and territory-based cultural practices such as the potlatch, Thornton and Hope show how Tlingit geographies are deep-rooted, intricate, and hopeful.
Tracing the long and treacherous struggle of defending the land and for land reform led now by the organization Paghidaet sa Paghiliusa (Peace in Development, PDG) in Negros, Philippines, critical development studies scholar-activist Sarah Wright insists that hope—linked to struggles over place, land, and/or territory—is not inherently liberatory or optimistic. Rather, conceptualizing the emotional, the political, feeling, and action, as already entwined, she views hope as a way of doing things and of being relationally in place. Wright opens possibilities for effective land politics that nourishes activism. Agrarian reform proponents—small-scale farmers, agricultural workers, and land tillers—in Wright, like farmers in Graddy-Lovelace, link land/place to life. They forge “…a politics that insists on the possibility of change through struggle, a complicated, real and often messy struggle within which hope is close to a stubborn conviction, a way of clinging precariously to life.”
These place-based GgsHope-in-Praxis are profoundly epistemological. Relational knowledge is (re)produced in the rethinking of place. When communities and peoples confront demands for change in broader geopolitical landscapes, notions and practices of place and identity also transform. Place-based GgsHope-in-Praxis consequently involve decision-making about to what degree to stand firm to defend Nature and fight for the (re)existance of cosmovisions based in caring for living, kincentric territories. Such geographies of hope-in-praxis are (re)constituted by (re)claiming territory and demanding reparations for wrongdoings, or, for allies, listening to those pushed to the margins, and accompanying them in their struggle for homelands (Tuck and Yang, 2012; Whyte, 2018b).
Alliances: (Re)generating communities of Hope-in-Praxis
In the face of continual violent imposition and dispossession, we center efforts across communities, networks and social movements, and diverse peoples to assemble alliance-based GgsHope. (Re)generated through praxis, these communities of hope recognize each other, create alliances, forge collective practices and struggles, and renovate themselves in the face of fragmentation and failures (Grossman et al., 2012). Communities that self-identify as being situated in the peripheries—the sacrifice zones—and are the most affected by colonizing and extractive processes are leading the processes of decolonizing. As marginalized communities in struggle come together across differences, new alliances question the notions of “more advanced,” “modern,” or “developed” 48 based on “the survival of the fittest” ideological hegemonies.
Interterritorial and international alliances also hail hope, be they the urban–rural solidarities highlighted by Graddy-Lovelace or the inter-island GgsHope that have been forged through localized efforts within and between territories that Hazlewood introduces. These processes set off ripples of alliances. One example is an intercultural network of Indigenous-led and youth-inspired initiatives, including an international platform to sustain the first constitutional-level Rights of Nature lawsuit ever filed (Hazlewood). Another is national and international allies bolstering the ongoing organizing efforts and land occupations of MST to achieve a more just distribution of land (Mançano Fernandes).
Not only do alliances build hope, but as Wright emphasizes in the struggle for land reform in the Philippines, hope nourished alliances: “Hope helped those involved remain in the struggle, bound the participants to each other and to land, nurtured their belief in their organizing efforts, and encouraged them to understand themselves, and their lives, differently.”
Networks and communities of hope underscore collaborative, cooperative, and symbiotic aspects of human nature (Klein, 2014), where projects that form foundational alliance-based GgsHope-in-Praxis emerge both in the active process of struggle and the co-creation of knowledge. 49 Yet, these justice-centered collaborations cannot take place without ongoing efforts to reconcile disparate and unequal positionalities between researchers and the communities with whom research takes place (Graddy et al., 2016). Feminist, Global South, and Indigenous approaches emphasize subjectivity and situatedness in geography 50 and acknowledge the differences between policy-making research that is about or imposed upon people and that which is created with people. 51 For example, Graddy-Lovelace (this issue) suggests that place-based abolitionist agrarian analyses allow for learning directly from and with the people and movements grounded in rooted networks of, from, and for the place at hand.
Alliance-based GgsHope-in-Praxis problematize top-down politics of activism and knowledge-making while foregrounding alternative research methodologies and ways of being together in the world. Here our contributors contest restlessly uneven, destructive, and oppressive geographies and strive to craft pluricultural environmental-with-racial justices through collaborative praxis and reciprocal research relations. Respect and responsibility to communities, organizational partners, and each other as authors encapsulate this comradery dimension of GgsHope-in-Praxis within and without. Both individually and collectively, our articles exhibit long-term accountability, enact decolonial collaborative methods, and facilitate networks between people oppressed in intersectional ways and to different degrees. Committing to this work is necessary to understand how to untangle ourselves and resist webbed geographies of violence within colonial/extractive research and economic processes.
The unthinkable: Leaping in expectation
Unthinkability reaches into hope's etymological foundations—leaping in expectation. The unthinkable dimension of hope in our articles is the realm of collective consciousness and envisioning (Kothari and Joy, 2017) a world “otherwise” (García Salazar and Walsh, 2017; Walsh, 2011). Through (re)inventing a “politics of hope,” 52 something unknown to the world emerges. Often this re-inventing entails re-reading the past and uncovering hidden relations so that the seemingly unthinkable becomes thinkable (Casolo, 2011; Casolo et al., 2020; Trouillot and Carby, 2015). As such, precisely because hope articulates the hidden, the buried, and the silencing of the past within the discourses and struggles of the present and within visions of a different future, the unthinkable entails a leap from common sense expectations.
Unthinkable politics are tied to the other dimensions of hope by actions of refusal, placemaking, rebellion, creativity, hope, and/or alliance-making (see Lawson and Elwood, 2018). …They involve actions and claims by subjects who have been framed as illegible, delegitimized, unimportant and powerless; unthinkable because they arouse the threat or promise of violence; they often take place in spaces deemed irrelevant, homes, communities, etc.; and they are unthinkable because they involve collectivities forged across difference. (Lawson and Elwood, 2018, see 224)
Contributions to this issue use different lenses to make what has been framed as illegible, legible, and to think the unthinkable into being. We suggest that a politics of unthinkability most often is cobbled from the human experience of acting audaciously, of applying legislation that pushes for place-based legibilities and legitimacies. For Graddy-Lovelace, in Kentucky, unthinkability shifts by coming to terms with past and present coloniality, racism, and carceral logics that produce “defeated subjectivities’’ which “deny the presence of alternatives.” She explains that by subverting subjectivities and cultivating relationships “abolitionist agrarian geographies sew together once unthinkable rural-urban solidarities” such as Holler to the Hood, Rural-Urban Exchange, and Hood to Holler (H2H) coalitions.
Other contributors engage the unthinkable through bottom-up and/or ancestral efforts that refuse or rework dominant structures, laws, and policies relative to their specific place-based contexts. Hazlewood's unthinkable hope underscores an Afro-descendant community coming together with an Indigenous community to collectively disrupt colonial, extractive economies by insisting upon (re)emergent, ancestral-instructed life plans of “living well” and applying constitutional-level Rights of Nature to a shared river linking their ancestral territories. Mançano Fernandes confronts the unthinkable through an analysis of the ongoing expansion of elite national and international agribusiness, consuming resources across the Brazilian landscape. He shows how the consecutive defeats that the MST has suffered against the “agribusiness empire” have ultimately created a roadmap for them to challenge dominant development models by creating agrarian policies from the bottom-up.
For Middleton Manning, it is within everyday struggles for justice that the unthinkable becomes thinkable. What a few decades ago was “unthinkable”—that Indigenous people are recognized as the experts of their own histories and homelands—now is slowly, persistently transforming US planning and cultural resource law and policy. While cultural resource protection laws still generally privilege European epistemologies and perpetuate non-Indigenous-led decision-making, the formerly unthinkable is now actualized through implementing Indigenous deecolonial frameworks and the principles of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples (UNDRIP).
Thornton and Hope unearth the unthinkable in what refuses to disappear: the ku.éex’, or potlatch, an ancestral practice grounded in values such as generosity and responsibility to particular places. They follow the work of members of Tlingit, Haida, and Tsimshian Sealaska Corporation to reform new forms of corporate governance now articulated through Northern Pacific Indigenous systems that continue to thrive and stand firm for ancestral territory-informed politics.
Wright also focuses on methodologies through which unthinkable hope with justice is executed. She emphasizes 30 years of tillers, agricultural workers, and landless farmers insisting on implementing the 1988 land reform laws created out of the Philippine 1987 constitution. By mobilizing protests, occupations, and blockades, they campaign for a more comprehensive agrarian reform and granting land to participants.
Unthinkable GgsHope shift business-as-usual paradigms to which people resign due to past resistances being silenced/forgotten. Hope emerging from the unthinkable reveals the concrete ways that other cultural worlds, ways of knowing and being, and practices of governance/care of all life have been systematically erased. Within hope's unthinkable dimension, often through intercultural and collaborative solidarity efforts to recover and renovate place-based ways and embody and mobilize re-memberings of the past, people forge political imaginaries—new relations with policy, with capital, with each other—to leap in expectation relative to possible futures of living well. Then, what becomes truly unthinkable is reproducing existing structures and relations that are destroying and poisoning the planet and our bodies.
Perseverance: The hope-full spirit of continuing on
In the shadowy margins of these long-term, rampant, and consistently revamped violent structures/relations, people continue to come together the world over to sow seeds of hope. This time-oriented dimension of hope digs into and holds up the how of the processes of continuing…on. Social struggles tap into this realm of hope to keep on moving forward together no matter what.
According to Xicano, Yoeme, and Tohono O’odham scholar-activist and peace and dignity journey 53 runner José Malvido, “…Hopes and dreams are like stardust that take seed on the earth, and we can recall them within our collective consciousness when we need them” (Jose Malvido, 2016, personal communication). Although this idea may seem far-fetched, it may well be the only logical explanation for how hope has taken root across the globe since the turn of the millennium.
These hope-full mindsets and spiritualities of continuing on constitute the heart of perseverance. In the face of near despair, we found that GgsHope—as expressed in love, trust, faith, determination, and courage—inspire people to not give up and to carry on working for justice (Lear, 2008). Pollack (n.d.) defines perseverance as “…to persist steadfastly in pursuit of an undertaking, task, journey, or goal, even if hindered by distraction, difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement.” Together, the essays in Loeb's (2014) edited collection, The Impossible Will Take a Little While: Perseverance and Hope in Troubled Times, make a similar argument. Synonyms for perseverance are tenacity, determination, persistence, endurance, patience, and commitment.
Graddy-Lovelace's essay traces the uphill persistence of abolitionist organizing in the place called Kentucky, where spatial and racial binaries are deeply ingrained. Organizers’ openness to the potential for change substantiates perseverance (or tenacity) as a way of being and co-becoming. Hazlewood discusses how, in facing long-term, repeated denial of oil palm plantations’ continuous destruction of their watershed, the youth of the affected communities take the camera back to make visible their struggles in a youth-narrated documentary called Together for Water. Mançano Fernandes’ discussion of the ongoing, long-term actions and demands of the MST exemplifies perseverance in the face of multinational corporations and colluding governments and resilience to keep on keeping on in the face of multiple defeats. Middleton Manning's article foregrounds the perseverance of continually planting legal-political seeds of hope in the face of long shadows of institutionalized injustice in cultural resources protection and planning laws. Wright describes perseverance aspects of hope when accentuating how struggle brings contingency into the present by keeping the door of possible agrarian reform open. For her, “…hope can be associated with a different way of being in the world, and a tenacious commitment to organising together to realise it.”
Increasingly, scholars highlight the importance of holistic approaches to social change. 54 (Re)connecting mind and heart is inseparable from regenerating an integrated approach to life, i.e., spirituality. Brown (2010: 64) defines spirituality as “recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us, and that our connection for that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion.” “Practicing spirituality,” she suggests, “brings a sense of perspective, meaning, and purpose to our lives” Brown (2010: 64). Brown's statement might also be equated with “practicing hope” (Wright, 2008, 2010).
bell hooks (2001: 219) also speaks to how the heart's persistent call to love, healing, and practicing hope all sustain the spirit of perseverance (inextricably related to ebbs and flows within resilience): Love redeems. The understanding [of this] appears to be a resilient aspect of the heart's knowledge. Like all great mysteries, we are all mysteriously called to love no matter the conditions of our lives, the degree of our depravity or despair. The persistence of this call gives us reason to hope. Without hope, we cannot return to love. Breaking our sense of isolation and opening up the window of opportunity, hope provides us with a reason to go forward. The practice of positive thinking…, living in a permanent state of hopefulness, renews the spirit. Renewing our faith in love's promise, hope is our covenant.
Resilience: “Leaping back” to hope
Where perseverance involves focused movement toward a distant goal in time, resilience denotes the ability to emotionally bounce back after significant impacts. Researchers have established an inextricable tie between hope and resilience. 55 Resilience is spatial and defined as “…the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness” or “…the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity” (Lexico, 2022). 56 The etymology of resilience is resilire, “to leap back” in Latin (Gunderson et al., 2009). The root word of hope connotes “to hop” or “leaping in expectation” (Online Etymology Dictionary, n.d.; Buck, 1949 57 ). Etymologically then, resilience is to leap back, and hope is to leap in expectation, but the questions are from what, to what, and how?
Gonda et al. (2023, 2) argue not only that resilience, leaping back, is a process but that resilience itself is “produced in and through socio-environmental conflicts.” Further, they explain conflicts and the resilience processes that constitute and are constituted by cyclical temporalities–spatialities are grounded in the politics of emotion. Re-prioritizing subjective experiences, 58 feminist political ecological and Indigenous scholars emphasize the insistent relationality of hope. Through resiliencing over and over, we (re)exist: “You can’t keep us down.” Hope here involves embedded, iterative, long-term, and messy processes of “suffering with” (Melissa Nelson, 2015, personal communication) and cultivating compassion. “Ecological grief” (Ellis and Cunsolo, 2018), mourning long-term industrial defiling and the subsequent slow death of a river (Krenak, 2020), and experiencing research from “inside-out” describe similar resilience-based GgsHope processes. Sustaining resilience is a mind–heart struggle that involves healing from trauma, grief, decolonizing, more healing, and persevering. 59
Resilience processes take place in both the material and emotional realms. Hazlewood, Mançano Fernandes, Thornton and Hope, and Wright describe the process of regenerating relational spaces 60 that foster re-assertion and mutual support as vibrant expressions of resilience that sustain us in adversity.
Hazlewood highlights dreams as an important space to recalibrate as we adjust to hope's emotional ups and downs and re-story our relations to the world and about why research matters. Mançano Fernandes discusses MST's ongoing production of territories of hope despite an increase in the assassination of land activists. Long-term struggles for land, he shows, include sporadic and interwoven moments of despair and hope. According to Thornton and Hope, resilience, as a dimension and process of hope, entails sustaining healthy inner and outer ecologies to navigate colonial impositions to reassert ancestral understandings of place and relationship to one another. For Wright, resilience emerges through the dance of emotions and temporalities, when landless and land-poor farmers in the movement recognize how vital it is to keep the struggle going. In the face of crippling violence and the grief and rage that accompanied it, she writes, “…hope sat alongside, entwined with, these other emotions; not in opposition to them but bound tightly, imbricated entirely in the experience.”
Resilience, then, is the “navigating rough waters” dimension of hope. Based on affective, or emotional processes within practices, resilience makes and remakes rooted resurgence meshworks, including people, place, time, and space. 61 Indeed, resilience entails remaining flexible and staying emotionally open to life's rough and tumble—and taking space to recover when necessary—to then re-engage with the living world around us, one another, and the struggle ahead. Hope with justice is just on the horizon—now, keeping in mind that you might have to “leap back” to resilience, grab ahold, plant those seeds, and make them grow.
The (im)possible: Actualizing holistic GgsHope-in-Praxis
Hope is a verb with its sleeves rolled up- David W. Orr (2011: xix)
At once, hope is a verb, an everyday practice, and an energy that connects us all. The (im)possible dimension of hope integrates and encompasses the other five aforementioned expressions and productions of hope; it is a holistic expression of hope-in-praxis. It is about doing something unthinkable! Hope in this realm courageously intervenes in the moment of no that says, “this is not possible,” and does it anyway.
The (im)possible realm of hope is directly tied into and actualized through the dimensions of place, alliances, perseverance, and resilience, because all the former aid in materializing the unthinkable. This dimension is characterized by individual and collective action and resistance, and these realms of hope are generated through getting involved, making changes by setting realistic goals, and then steadily achieving them. As we undertake what would otherwise seem impossible, hope in this realm is explicitly political, as well as spiritual, psychological, emotional, and material; it is also individual and collective. 62
The (im)possible realm of hope engages anti-colonial, anti-racist, and equitable politics through practice: building relations based on those politics with one another and the world and producing and teaching understandings about those relations. In so doing, we transgress the political, economic, extractive, and colonial systems and processes that beforehand bound us to what was deemed possible. 63 “Taking up philosopher Isabelle Stegners’ suggestion that ‘Hope is the difference between probability and possibility’ (Zournazi and Stegners, 2002), Gibson-Graham argues that as researchers we must locate, identify and fan the glimmers of possibility all around us” (McKinnon et al., 2008).
Similarly, border studies scholar-activists 64 emphasize regenerative action based on carving out openings for emergent hope asserting that “decoloniality of being” takes place from borderlands and from the bottom up. This border thinking and doing necessitates acting despite unknown outcomes and reinventing ourselves and our relations to the world to create resurgences and re-existences based on justice and peace.
Beyond possibility, Thornton and Hope's and Hazlewood's articles specifically address this (im)possible work to create completely new realities that were previously deemed impossible, and both with Pacific Coast Rainforest protectors—in the tropical and temperate rainforests, respectively. Hazlewood's emphasis on the impossible underscores how, by joining with Indigenous leaders in Ecuador and people across the Chocó Bioregion and the world to execute intercultural and intergenerational projects to (re)exist, Ecuadorian Chocó peoples have broken through centuries-long invisibility generated by racist capitalism. Thornton and Hope's work highlighting an entirely novel business model to continue the ku.éex’ (potlatch) could have jeopardized Tlingit’s values. Nevertheless, meeting Tlingit peoples’ needs required risking the (im)possible: interweaving Native Alaskan ecocultural health into contemporary economies.
Offering examples of pushing the envelope of current paradigms, this issue moves beyond this-or-that dichotomies and puts a pluriverse of possibilities into practice (Kothari et al., 2019). Carving out decolonial plurigeographical spaces, our articles embrace and amplify both/and. They underscore that the (im)possible dimension of hope is the umbrella that brings all of hope's other dimensions together for breaking through to other possible worlds. For the authors, (im)possible GgsHope-in-praxis are embodied in persistently and resiliently insisting on ground-up policy change, problem-solving, engaged scholarship, and decolonizing methodologies. Both denouncing and resistance through continuance (Oslender, 2016) substantiate the (im)possible. For, hope's (im)possible dimension enacts paradigm shifts by courageously grieving, healing, and loving, engaging in political processes of refusal to colonial/extractive economies, 65 cultivating holistic practices that contribute to alternative economies of hope, 66 and building societies based on caring for one another and co-becoming with the living world around us. 67
GgsHope-in-Praxis: Joining in solidarity and amplifying a pluriverse of environmental-with-racial justices
GgsHope-in-Praxis are the means and the ends—the journey-destinations. Hope is a choice to continue on no matter what. Hope matters for collective action around the world striving for environmental-with-racial justices. GgsHope-in-Praxis constitute and are constituted by a rooted meshwork of diverse constellations of resurgence that are not just emerging, but also centuries-long and ever-present practices of many peoples in the face of fascist, colonial states and racial capitalist exploitation, extraction, and accumulation. Geographies of Hope are just beyond what's visible and audible, but our articles show that we can decide to join together and make them happen. We can join in solidarity and amplify a pluriverse of Geographies of Hope-in-praxis.
Today communication and interconnection between constellations of resurgent ways of engaging and activating GgsHope-in-Praxis is flourishing. Our GgsHope-in-Praxis collective aims to help strengthen these processes that are already in motion by underscoring hope's multidimensionality, and offering encouragement to not give up as hope ebbs and flows. For, hope too has its seasons.
GgsHope-in-Praxis, then, hail a commitment to strengthen a pluriverse of ways of understanding and being in the world. Together, re-encountering one another, in this theme issue, we begin to create a symphony of ways to (re)exist. GgsHope-in-Praxis come to life in the process of collaboratively decolonizing relations and regenerating relational spaces. Vines of hope creep into crevices to interrupt and transform oppressive systems, intertwine to (re)weave localized communities together in living networks, and expand realities to increasingly join in solidarity with one another and amplify diverse pathways towards environmental-with-racial justices.
Highlights
Geographies of Hope-in-Praxis step into ongoing conversations about hope, push back on business as usual, and amplify understandings of initiatives to (re)assemble different kinds of wor(l)ds.
We activate hope through long-term, reciprocal, and accountable research relations in Brazil, Ecuador, the Philippines, and Southeast Alaska, California, and Kentucky in the USA.
We “geographize” hope by digging into praxes of hope and conceptualizing those experiences within six “dimensions”: place, alliance, the unthinkable, perseverance, resilience, and the (im)possible.
GgsHope-in-Praxis hail a commitment to strengthen a pluriverse of ways of understanding, doing, and being in the world—a symphony of ways to (re)exist.
GgsHope-in-Praxis are being built from the ground up and across long lineages of polycentric struggles to collaboratively decolonize relations and regenerate relational spaces of environmental-with-racial justices.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
This article honors bell hooks, Eduardo Galeano, Gustavo Esteva, Carlos Walter Porto Gonçalvez, Juan García Salazar, and Anthony Bourdain, who continue to inspire and teach us about rising up for other possible worlds. We are grateful to the EPE editors, Katie Nudd, Rosemary Collard, Lyla Mehta, and Andrew Shmuely for their patience and support. We are also indebted to and appreciate the Sage Production team, especially SM Amudhapriya and Amit Chand. Thank you, Victoria Lawson, for shepherding our process. Your insights and critique have made this introduction more robust and faithful to the materiality of hope and decolonial praxis. Our sincere gratitude goes to the anonymous reviewers for their guidance and to Eleonora Moen, Skye Stevenson, Derede Arthur, and Aimee Maron for their suggestions. Many thanks to Eleonora and R&R interns Megan Stewart, Cameron Clark, Aryan Trehan, and Anuki Wanigasinghe for assisting with the bibliography—not a small feat. All errors and omissions are the authors’ responsibility.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The U.S. National Science Foundation, Inter-American Foundation, and the University of Kentucky's Geography Department funded different time periods of Hazlewood's PhD research in relation to Geographies of Hope (2008-2010). Thanks also to Roots & Routes IC and our awesome partners for financially supporting ongoing community-inspired hopeful research and for providing a container that brings together many relations that has made this GgsHope-in-Praxis introduction article possible. Additionally, it is important to mention that Casolo received support from a Junior Research Grant/The Research Foundation-Flanders (FWO) [Grant NumberG0D8620N]. Lastly, we are grateful to the University of California for investing in the open access of this article.
