On the virtues of diversity

I’ve been thinking a lot about the topic of diversity lately, in particular because of our presumptive GOP candidate, Sir Donald Trumps-a-lot. In the current climate of anti-migration rhetoric, and in my current situation of living in a large college town in suburban Texas, I’ve never felt more uncertain about the conversations I have with people. This is partly because now, more than ever, people are quick to assume that I’m of the “other” side. They lump me in with the secretly bigoted, force me to partake in indirect and unclear conversation guised in silent but knowing head nods and winks.  The young anthropologist in me doesn’t want to break the trust, feeling that if only I could get a glance at “the other” I could make a breakthrough for all of humanity on the anthropology of bigotry and xenophobia. Knowing that people with these dark/not-so-dark secrets exist everywhere and they’re a sign of societal times, I’m inevitably most upset by the fact that my white skin and blue eyes gains me access to a world I’d prefer disappear forever in our growing globalized homogenization.

Contrary to Trump’s rhetoric, one of the greatest strengths of America is our immigrant population. Immigrants bring with them new ideas and different perspectives. Their experiences in times of adversity have allowed them to not only survive, but to grow to new capacities, to see the world from new angles, and to push the accepted norms. I like to think that the Peace Corps provides Americans with similar adversity and growth, but two years of this experience can’t replace an entire worldview. When different worldviews come together, ideas are exchanged, compromises made, and humanity flourishes from pushing the boundaries of the possibilities of civilization just a tiny bit further. The ugly lie of Donald Trump is that limiting American immigration will hinder our nation’s growth potential: businesses will falter, ideas will die, the same parts of our brain that benefit from learning new skills and languages will wither away. We’ll become obsolete in a world where innovation and creativity depend directly upon the meeting of minds. Limiting migration and encouraging deportation will not, in fact, make America great again.

What I loved most about Cameroon was meeting all kinds of Africans. In a small village in rural, forested East Cameroon, a family from Niger settled. They were surrounded by Christian Bantus, most of whom were born and raised deep in the forest. They were all talented bushmeat hunters who generally died of starvation with money in their pockets. The family from Niger saw a commerce opportunity, and they invested in a bakery and cafeteria, raised goats and chickens, and traded goods on their small lot. The community welcomed the family with open arms (and probably some jealousy and maybe even a little sorcery), and the family single-handedly cooked for and fed the government employees sent to live in the bush to teach the village children, treat the village sick, and monitor the forest. Following this family’s development and success, other businesses opened and led to a (relatively) thriving market economy in a village that was often cut off from town supplies by a bad road. Totally ignoring the tribal diversity of Cameroon, in Yaoundé, Senegalese and Nigerians drive commerce, and Cameroonians often model their success in attempts to make it as well. Commerce is, truly, the lifeblood of Cameroon and I think this has much to do with their large population and their open immigration policy with other West and Central African nations. In the development world, exchange visits are often organized to provide a meeting of the minds, an opportunity for rural people to see what activities are carried out in other parts of the country, or even in different countries. The ability to see problems firsthand, and to see how other people have thought through solutions is an incredibly useful tool for development.

This post has been inspired by some of Ecoexist’s activities, in particular an exchange visit that Ecoexist had in Ghana to learn more about conservation agriculture in practice in a very different climate, culture, and environment. In the face of growing population, climate change, etc., there is more demand than ever to feed the population of Botswana (2.1 million), which is currently a net importer of food. While more land is currently in production than ever, productivity has actually declined, perhaps in response to heavily subsidized agricultural inputs. One of the challenges to wildlife conservation relates to the question of “land sparing or land sharing”: is it more useful to make agriculture more intensive on smaller parcels of land (ie. clearly distinct land use), or is it more useful to make agriculture a less-intensive, though integrated part of the landscape (ie. slash-and-burn agriculture). Conservation agriculture is one important approach that can help in the development of an agricultural sector, and in particular one that must develop alongside a sustained wildlife economy. Elephants, like people, require a lot of space, and in order to best establish and protect fields, a concerted and communal effort is a necessary approach. These are practices that Botswana farmers can benefit from learning. If immigrants aren’t bringing new and innovative practices into the community, then exchange visits are the next best thing.

Biodiverse ecosystems have been proven time and again to be the most resilient to perturbations. All niches are full, and disease inevitably kills some, but not all. With time, all niches become functionally full again. Likewise, diverse communities present their own challenges, but the ability to pull from the many resources that are inevitably associated with diversity is an advantage in the long run for the sustained development of a community. A town full of doctors will die of starvation. A town full of Donald Trumps will self-implode in the most beautiful of fireworks display, a shower of shining hair extensions.