Borders: A Transnational Photography Project

Welcome to the Borders Photography blog.

The project this site represents is an attempt to examine the impact of forced migration on ethnic minority children from Burma. Using an anthropological approach that depends heavily on the use of art and photography, the project will address questions of personal, communal, regional, and national identity.

For more information about the project, or for examples of recent work created, please explore the linked pages below.

pages

About the Project
Community Interviews

"Where I'm From" Assignment
"My Community" Assignment
"Life Storybook" Assignment
"Thailand/Burma" Assignment
"Migration Map" Assignment

Photography Workshops
"Portrait" Assignment
"About My Home" Assignment
"About My Community" Assignment
"Sequence/Series" Assignment
"Moving Forward" Assignment

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  1. Life as a Child Refugee (Part Two)

    This is the second of a series of posts (see the first post here) I’ll be writing in the next week or so, which will hopefully summarize a least a small part of the information I’ve been gathering in interviews over the last few months.

    My interviews have primarily been focused on gathering details about the ways in which forced migration at a young age effect minority children in the border area. To concentrate on this topic, I highlighted three groups of people in my interviews: adults who migrated to Thailand as young children; parents who chose to migrate with their children; and, finally, targeted adults who work with migrating children in schools, boarding homes, and other organizations.

    ____________________________________________________________________________________

    Recently, I conducted an interview with a young man, actually about my age, who has been moving between Burma and Thailand since he was 14. Problems within his family forced him to move from his home in rural Burma, arriving in Yangon alone and with few skills or education. After two years working in Yangon and two other large Burmese cities, at age 16 this boy decided to migrate to Thailand, in hopes of finding a job and making enough money to support his family back in Burma.

      

    “I left the Burma, and tried to walk to Thailand, but I didn’t realize that you can’t just walk in- I was so young. I was stopped at the checkpoint and they told me to turn around, so I found some nearby homes a few meters away from the border and stayed there until the morning. I awoke and left at 7 am and walked further from the checkpoint where I tried to cross again, this time through the jungle.

    No one stopped me, so I kept walking until I arrived in a Thai town at 5 pm. The night I arrived here, I did nothing except for walk around and around the market. I was so hungry, but I couldn’t find food to eat anywhere. I tried to go to sleep, but even though I was tired from walking all day, I couldn’t sleep because of the hunger. Instead of sleeping, I walked around town all night hoping to find something to eat.

    When morning came, I walked to the market again and asked for food at a rice shop. They saw that I was hungry and fed me for free. Once I had eaten, I realized I had no idea what to do next. I could not speak Thai, and because of this I was afraid to even look for work in Thailand. I didn’t want to get into trouble. I began to think maybe it would be best to just got back to Burma…”

    As my subject was only 16 when he entered Thailand alone and without support, this interview was especially interesting for me to conduct. The vast majority of those I’ve spoken with, interviewed, or worked with in the past few months came to Thailand with their family, extended relatives, or at least with friends. The fact that this subject came alone is significant, because, in most cases, relations act as a built-in support system for the migrating child. In his specific situation, my subject was completely alone, with not even an acquaintance in Thailand when he arrived.

    While my subject went on to explain that he continued to consider returning immediately to Burma after arriving in Thailand, he ended up staying in the country and taking the first of an unbelievably long list of jobs- over twenty in at least seven different cities over the course of four years. He, himself, even commented on his extensive experience working a variety of jobs: “I have many problems, so I have to work many jobs and always find new ones.”

    Almost all of the jobs he held ended as a result of an incident of unequal pay, unfair treatment, or downright discrimination:

    “The first job I was offered was a job washing cars. The boss told me that he would pay me 600 THB ($20.00) per month I worked. I worked there for four months, because I didn’t realize how little money that was. I didn’t realize they were cheating me because I didn’t speak Thai. To the Thai speaking boys who are also poor and need a job, they usually pay 1,200 THB- so they were only paying me half of that because I was Burmese…”

    “After that, I decided to try once more at becoming one of the guides who walks Burmese people through the jungle and into Thailand. I begin walking one group of people through the jungle, and once we got near town, I hired them motorbike taxis to take them the rest of the way into Thailand. But, I only do this work for one month because people cheat me so often. Most of the time they don’t have the money to pay in full. I tell them it costs 1,300 baht ($43), but they don’t pay me once they arrive in Thailand…”

    “Once, when I worked in a gas station, I lost almost my whole salary. My job was to collect and count the money at the end of the day. One day, another employee stole from the shop, but because I was the one who collected and counted the money, they thought I had done it because I am Burmese, and they told me I would have to work for free for an entire year to make up for the lost money. So, after that I work for free for one more year. Eventually while I am working there, it happens again, because the employee thought that if it worked once it would work again. They caught him this time, the real thief. I asked if I could have the money I earned back, but they said that at that point I’d already worked the whole year to pay them back, and that they wouldn’t give me the money even though I’d done so much work.”

    ____________________________________________________________________________________

    This sort of discrimination has been mentioned in every single interview I’ve conducted with Burmese refugees now living and working in Thailand. The extent to which they feel oppressed may vary from individual to individual, but the feeling of being an “other” in someone else’s country has been constant. This inequality is also one of the primary reasons Burmese parents work so hard to send their children to Thai school where they can study and become fluent in the Thai language- which will hopefully allow for fair pay and more future opportunities.

    My subject concluded:

    “For people my age, who come when they are young and haven’t studied Thai, it will always be difficult because we will always be Burmese, and we will always feel oppressed. I will never be able to get the same opportunities or payment as those who have learned Thai. I think that I will always be cheated, and I will always feel sad about that. 

    I can never get fair pay, and if I break something, I always have to pay back the money. But Thai people don’t have these problems.”

     
     
  2. Life as a Child Refugee (Part One)

     

    This is the first of a series of posts I’ll be writing in the next week or so, which will hopefully summarize a least a small part of the information I’ve been gathering in interviews over the last few months.

    My interviews have primarily been focused on gathering details about the ways in which forced migration at a young age effect minority children in the border area. To concentrate on this topic, I highlighted three groups of people in my interviews: adults who migrated to Thailand as young children; parents who chose to migrate with their children; and, finally, targeted adults who work with migrating children in schools, boarding homes, and other organizations.

    ____________________________________________________________________________________

    Recently, I conducted an interview with a middle aged woman from the interior of Burma, who has only recently arrived in Thailand. After violence broke out in her home region, and her family was suspected of being rebel sympathizers, she migrated across the border with her husband, and seven children:

     “We ran the secret way into Thailand, around one of the refugee camps and past the checkpoint. We arrived to —-, with the children. The youngest one is only one year old. It was a very difficult journey because we had no money and we ran into many obstacles that kept us from getting to Thailand. We had nothing, so we had to wait to stop until we could find people who would give us a place to stay, and food to eat.

    When we arrived, we walked through the jungle. We wanted to continue further into Thailand, but we know no Thai, so we are very scared. We stayed very close to the border, but every three months the Burmese troops would come and we would have to run away again. So finally, we decide to go into Thailand and find a job, even though I am pregnant again and it is hard to walk through the jungle.

    We don’t have a stable home, so we are always going back and forth and never have money to use to buy rice to eat. When the rain comes, it is the most difficult- my husband has to carry one child under his arm, and the other on his back- while I carry everything we own.”

    I asked her many questions about what it was like, as a parent, to migrate with children, watch them struggle in a new country, learn the language, adapt and adjust. For her, though, the most significant struggle in relocating her children was paying for their schooling because, while entry into school is free, buying uniforms, paying for transportation, etc. is quite expensive:

    “I feel sad for the children because the most important thing is to be educated. By now, they had already reached the age when they need to be educated. Even though they live in Thailand, the children don’t know Thai. That is the hardest part. Maybe next year they will be able to go to school and learn Thai. This year we had a plan to send them because they are school age, but the money just wasn’t there. So even today they still can’t go to school. 

    Sometimes I look at my children and cry because they can’t be at school. Because of all of the problems, and moving around so much, I’ve never been able to send them to school, and if I did find enough money to send one, I have to send them all- and six uniforms and six fee payments is very expensive.

    Thailand is very difficult, but here [in Thailand] is better automatically because their life is in danger in Burma. The education is better and there are more opportunities for them in the future here, but the most important thing is that they are safer than in Burma. I once talked to my Aunt, and she told me never to come back to Burma, and that I cannot take any guarantee to live in Burma because no matter what, we can never trust the Burmese military.

    So I will stay here, and hopefully next year the children can go to school.”

    ____________________________________________________________________________________

    These sort of financial difficulties are not uncommon for children of migrating families, for a variety of reasons, most common being poverty (often in both Burma pre-migration, and in Thailand post-migration) and discrimination and unequal access to adequate jobs. I have seen this to be the case for most of my students- all but two of my 50+ students could not afford schooling on their own, and thus attend school for free either by choosing to attend schools with no entrance fee, and not uniform, or through the support of local NGOs.

    A recent report written by the Child Protection Research Project of the Committee for the Protection and Promotion of Child Rights (Burma), and sponsored by the International Rescue Committee reports figures relating to these challenges:

    “Even if a Thai school is nearby, attending this is out of reach for the vast majority of migrant children… According to one CBO [Community-based Organization) leader, sending a child to a Thai school can cost up to 10,000 THB [$300] per year, which for the majority of migrants is half a year’s income. Parents [in the Mae Sot area] cannot afford to pay the 50 THB [$1.60] a year for learning center fees, so it is impossible for them to pay Thai school fees.”

     
     
  3. A few themes have consistently appeared in the work of my students, regardless of where they are from or where the live now. One of those is their depictions of violence- primarily violence between the Burmese Army (also called the Tatmadaw) and ethnic insurgencies. This isn’t surprising, as the area I work in, while currently stable, existed as a ‘black zone’ under the Burmese Communist Party’s Hpyat lay hpyat (Four Cuts) Policy.

Since the late 1960s, the civil war in Burma has been characterized by a counter-insurgency policy know as the ‘Four Cuts’. This strategy borrows elements from the pacification of Burma during the Third Anglo-Burmese War, from British practice in the Boer War and 1960s Malaya, and from the US military’s ‘strategic hamlets’ program in Vietnam. Under the Four Cuts policy, Tatmadaw units issue orders to villages in ‘black’ (rebel held) and ‘brown’ (contested) areas to relocate to government-controlled (‘white’) areas, usually with very little warning.
Villagers’ erstwhile homes are designated ‘free-fire’ zones. The policy has at times amounted to a form of ethnic cleansing as vast areas of the Burmese countryside have been depopulated and civilians subjected to a range of human rights violations…
There are Four Cuts, designed to undermine the rebels supply of recruits, to cut off their access to intelligence, food, finance (the undeclared fifth cut is said to be the insurgents decapitation).
The idea is, as the Burmese proverb has it, ‘to drain the sea in order to kill the fish’.
(from Ashley South’s Mon Nationalism and Civil War in Burma)

The policy basically forced rural villagers to choose between three clear cut options: either to fight, flee, or join the Tatmadaw. In the region where my school is based, most villagers have decided to flee, and, as a result, many of my students grew up in close proximity to violence systematically undertaken by the government. While the policy was originally created in the 1960s, it is still at the foundation of the majority of strategic decisions made in regards to these ‘black’ or ‘brown’ areas. In March of this year, the policy was officially acknowledged and called back into practice, with minor adjustments.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Above is a drawing that was made by one of the students in my classes. The student is eleven years old and originally from Karen state. He captioned his picture as follows:
“A Soldier is holding a gun to a student. The student is saying ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m scared.’ “
Below is an except from an interview I conducted with one of my students. The student’s name is removed for his safety and the safety of his fellow students. I can say that he is twelve years old and has been living and studying at my school since he was seven.  
Below is the conversation that followed regarding his future hopes and dreams.
Q: What do you want for your future?
A: It is hard to say what my future will look like, but my mother wants me to become a teacher. As for me, though, I want to become a soldier. 
I want to become a soldier because I don’t like Burmese people. I would be a Karen soldier.
Q: Why do you think it is important to fight for the Karen army?
A: My father knew the area around my village very well. When I was young, he was a guide for the Karen Army. So when the Burmese army came, the took my father away and killed him because he had helped the Karen. 
One time, also, the Burmese army told my relatives to put three pieces of long (a traditional Burmese piece of cloth worn as a skirt) into his mouth, otherwise they would hit him with the handle of the gun. 
All of these kind of things happen to me and my family.

    A few themes have consistently appeared in the work of my students, regardless of where they are from or where the live now. One of those is their depictions of violence- primarily violence between the Burmese Army (also called the Tatmadaw) and ethnic insurgencies. This isn’t surprising, as the area I work in, while currently stable, existed as a ‘black zone’ under the Burmese Communist Party’s Hpyat lay hpyat (Four Cuts) Policy.

    Since the late 1960s, the civil war in Burma has been characterized by a counter-insurgency policy know as the ‘Four Cuts’. This strategy borrows elements from the pacification of Burma during the Third Anglo-Burmese War, from British practice in the Boer War and 1960s Malaya, and from the US military’s ‘strategic hamlets’ program in Vietnam. Under the Four Cuts policy, Tatmadaw units issue orders to villages in ‘black’ (rebel held) and ‘brown’ (contested) areas to relocate to government-controlled (‘white’) areas, usually with very little warning.

    Villagers’ erstwhile homes are designated ‘free-fire’ zones. The policy has at times amounted to a form of ethnic cleansing as vast areas of the Burmese countryside have been depopulated and civilians subjected to a range of human rights violations…

    There are Four Cuts, designed to undermine the rebels supply of recruits, to cut off their access to intelligence, food, finance (the undeclared fifth cut is said to be the insurgents decapitation).

    The idea is, as the Burmese proverb has it, ‘to drain the sea in order to kill the fish’.

    (from Ashley South’s Mon Nationalism and Civil War in Burma)

    The policy basically forced rural villagers to choose between three clear cut options: either to fight, flee, or join the Tatmadaw. In the region where my school is based, most villagers have decided to flee, and, as a result, many of my students grew up in close proximity to violence systematically undertaken by the government. While the policy was originally created in the 1960s, it is still at the foundation of the majority of strategic decisions made in regards to these ‘black’ or ‘brown’ areas. In March of this year, the policy was officially acknowledged and called back into practice, with minor adjustments.

    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Above is a drawing that was made by one of the students in my classes. The student is eleven years old and originally from Karen state. He captioned his picture as follows:

    “A Soldier is holding a gun to a student. The student is saying ‘Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m scared.’ “

    Below is an except from an interview I conducted with one of my students. The student’s name is removed for his safety and the safety of his fellow students. I can say that he is twelve years old and has been living and studying at my school since he was seven.  

    Below is the conversation that followed regarding his future hopes and dreams.

    Q: What do you want for your future?

    A: It is hard to say what my future will look like, but my mother wants me to become a teacher. As for me, though, I want to become a soldier.

    I want to become a soldier because I don’t like Burmese people. I would be a Karen soldier.

    Q: Why do you think it is important to fight for the Karen army?

    A: My father knew the area around my village very well. When I was young, he was a guide for the Karen Army. So when the Burmese army came, the took my father away and killed him because he had helped the Karen.

    One time, also, the Burmese army told my relatives to put three pieces of long (a traditional Burmese piece of cloth worn as a skirt) into his mouth, otherwise they would hit him with the handle of the gun.

    All of these kind of things happen to me and my family.