July 7, 2025

Dear Geert—

These missives trying to explain what’s happening in the New World to friends in the Old World become more and more like describing the contours of a Klein bottle, the higher dimensional version of the better known Möbius strip. Like the Möbius strip, the Klein bottle, which can only exist in four dimensions, is distinguished by its continuous surface, it has no inside and no outside. Most socio-politico-economic analyses are predicated on stripping away the surface to reveal the “real” forms of power (viz Karl Marx’s concepts of base and superstructure) but this moment in America feels like it’s all surface with no underlying anatomy. As I mentioned last month, the reigning sensibility of Trump 2.0 is that “they’re not happy until we’re not happy,” which is pure continuous surface reactivity, a Klein bottle of resentment and cruelty.

All over the Internet you find a quote that seems to sum up our moment perfectly: “There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.” That this is attributed to V.I. Lenin, even though he never said it, makes the sentiment even more perfectly suited for the feels here in Los Angeles. In the month since my last missive, it’s truly felt like decades have passed. We’ve had an influx of masked, heavily armed men who claim to be United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents. I write claim, because they arrive in unmarked cars, refuse to show ID or warrants, and wear—ludicrously in an urban setting—camo everything. They are supposed to be targeting “illegals with criminal records,” but what they are really doing follows the fascist playbook of targeting a minority, demanding their papers on the street, and taking them away without due process.

This egregious lawlessness prompted righteous demonstrations against these secret policemen. The demonstrations in turn led to some social disorder, including vandalism, but less that my city sees after sports teams win national championships. Nonetheless, that whiff of violence was what the Trump administration was hoping for. In its immediate aftermath, the President of the United States went against the wishes of both the mayor and the Governor to deploy the state’s National Guard to Los Angeles’ downtown, and then, for the first time in decades, added a contingent of active-duty military, in this case the Marines. Neither the 700 Marines nor the 4,000 guardsmen have had much to do, and the later weren’t even properly provisioned with “hots and cots”—meaning meals and adequate living arrangements. But it didn’t matter because in the US we are living through a politics that’s based on optics not ideology, much less competency.

The ICE agents may fear being doxed, but their masking serves to create a terrifying image. The Marines in Downtown Los Angeles are mirroring the troops who just marched through Washington on Trump’s birthday (a martial display the President had been chafing for since seeing one in France during his first administration). Yet the depravity of the deportations and the military’s peacetime deployment in an American city are just floating turds in the continuing flooding of the zone with shit, and the weeks-where-decades-happen just keep happening.

The raids go on, with ICE agents in armored vehicles and on horseback. The detentions are happening all around us in Southern California (my local car wash was raided and two workers were disappeared just last week) and Angelenos continue to demonstrate against them. I see more and more “Sin Helio—Without ICE” bilingual tee shirts, but it’s hard to keep focused on those atrocities, with so much else going on at the same time. After all, in the past month, as part of our bipartisan support for the Benjamin Netanyahu regime, the US started and then abruptly ended a conflict with Iran. Just twelve days later, the worst legislative act of my lifetime was enacted in record time.

I am no economist, so the subtleties of the deceptions and degradations of the “The One Big Beautiful Bill Act” escape me. But I can understand that the bill, passed by obedient Republican partisans with the narrowest of margins, and then signed into law – on America’s Independence Day no less—by a President who won the office by a scant one and half percent of the popular vote, fundamentally shifts the burden of paying for America’s needs from the rich to the not-at-all-rich, and siphons one trillion dollars from the poor to make sure that billionaires can have ever more lavish destination weddings and corporations can escape both taxation and regulation. This isn’t populism, but somehow it floats, turd-like, along the surface of the MAGA zone. Those on the outside of that Klein bottle, which of course has no outside, are made even more unhappy, and so the surface remains unbroken.

This sense of continuous surface is an outgrowth of Trump’s focus on optics. To work through the politics of the moment via optics is not to ignore the pain of families being sundered, children being denied medical services both here and abroad, and the daily humiliations of being outside the racial and gendered dynamics of the MAGA nation. But we can’t stick with the “reality-based community” to grok our situation, a community that has been losing ground since the GW Bush administration. It’s not so much “truthiness” anymore, than it is the realization that we’re now denizens of a multiverse in which truth never existed in the first place. The United States has become a Klein bottle of unverifiability in four dimensions of pure, continuous surface.

One of the only sure ways to gain relief from this Klein bottle is to harness the power of art. So it was on Independence Day, we went to see a 50^th anniversary screening of Robert Altman’s masterpiece of Americana, Nashville. Even before the film was released, the New Yorker’s film critic, Pauline Kael, understood just how powerfully effective and affecting were Nashville’s intersecting storylines, overlapping dialogue and seamless transitions between scripted and improvised action: “Altman’s art, like Fred Astaire’s, is the great American art of making the impossible look easy.” Filmed and set just before the nation’s Bicentennial, Altman uses Southern country musicians in the Grand Ole Opry as a Greek chorus to comment on a nation still reeling from the political scandals of Watergate and the moral rot of Vietnam.

The parallels with the United State just before its 250^th anniversary are striking. The wannabes who are certain, just certain, that fame and fortune are only one record deal away no matter if they have talent or not set the emotional tone for 21^st century influencer culture. The split between Tennessee’s down home sensibilities and the urban sophistication of visitors from Los Angeles has been sharpened to a lethal edge by endless culture wars. There’s even a long-shot, outsider Presidential candidate storming the citadels of power. That the specter of assassination floats above all the actions and interaction, makes Nashville that much more powerful today, after Donald J. Trump survived not one but two attempts on his life in his run to recapture power. That he survived being shot, and rose to his feet, pumping his fist, yelling “fight, fight, fight” as he was being dragged away from the line of fire gave both the candidate and his supporters a sense of divine mission and heroic invincibility.  His survival was real, but the image he created was also part of an optic that had been developing that was entirely imaginary.

From the very start, MAGA both online and IRL promulgated memes of Trump as an invincible, muscular, God Emperor. In chats, on Facebook, printed on towels and flags, held up at rallies, Trump is a caricature of alpha male manliness. This soon-to-be-octogenarian golfer has been portrayed as a ‘roided-out hero from an 80s movie: his abs are ripped, his biceps bulging, his guns blazing. When he made his first, pathetic foray into the world of crypto grifting, it was with a series of NFTs of himself in various guises from superhero to astronaut, cowboy to race car driver. What was rarely mentioned was that the designs for the cards were drawn from an aborted run of NFTs commissioned by and portraying Sylvester Stallone. The Trump cards were, therefore, imaginaries of an aging reality television star cosplaying an aging action film star cosplaying his own youthful, more powerful, self. In the Klein bottle we call the USA, the optics of power are simultaneous with power itself, a continuous surface. Trump is no topologist, but he understands the new terrain as he ramps up his culture wars. Asked the difference between his first term and the second, the most vindictive president in American history replied “I was the hunted, and now I’m the hunter.” The optics and the actions will only get worse before they get better.

Best—

Peter

(previous letters from Peter Lunenfeld can be found here: https://networkcultures.org/blog/author/peterlunenfeld/)

Post-Communist Grounds. In Search of the Commons’ is a collection of  interventions seek to explore and activate practices of commoning in post-communism in a range of genres and media forms, with a specific interest in developing experimental aesthetic practices.

​This volume seeks to re-orient discussions about the commons away from prevailing frames of analyses, which tend to ‘assume that emancipatory ideas of commons and commoning come from the West’ (Vilenica, 2023).  On par with this supposition is the devaluation of experiments in commoning situated elsewhere that engage different historical experiences of struggle against enclosures. This includes not only various efforts of organizing reproductive labor, public infrastructure, or free time during state socialism across the so-called ‘Eastern Bloc’, but also the experiences of anti-imperialist, agrarian, and anarchist struggles and revolts in these regions that may as well have predated or, as it were, outlived the formation of socialist states. The volume brings together contributions that depart from differently constituted ‘post-communist grounds’ to reshuffle and remix their composition, setting them in productive relation to questions that define our present-day: from an intimate engagement with the feminized experience of labor emigration in contemporary Georgia to the disappearance of spaces of everyday creativity in Poland to accounts of the challenges of internationalist organizing on the Left today through the prism of the collective LeftEast. While some of the contributions engage historical and archival materials from different contexts, none of them employ a reifying approach towards the past. Instead, each works with different materials, media, or modalities of writing – from poetry to illustration, from essay to collage to movement score – to chart alternative coordinates in our present and future grounds of coming together.

Edited by: Neda Genova

Second Editor: Salome Berdzenishvili

Copy Editing: Callum Bradley

Book Cover Art: Miha Brebenel

Contributors: Sasha Anikina, Aleksei Borisionok, Noah Brehmer, Miha Brebenel, Aleksandra Fila, Nino Gavasheli, Hanna Grześkiewicz, ​Mariya P. Ivancheva, Rastko Novaković, Olia Sosnovskaya, ​Mary N. Taylor, and ​Yasemin Keskintepe.

Published by the Institute of Network Cultures, Amsterdam 2025.

ISBN: 9789083520940
Contact: Institute of Network Cultures
Amsterdam University of Applied Sciences
Email: info@networkcultures.org
Web: www.networkcultures.org

This publication was created with financial support from The Leverhulme Trust (grant number ECF-2021-404, Early Career Fellowship), University of Warwick’s Enhancing Research Culture Development Fund (2023/24), and Southampton Institute for Arts and Humanities’ HEIF Research Stimulus Fund (2024/25) at the University of Southampton.
It is published under the Creative Commons Attribution NonCommercial ShareAlike 4.0 license (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0). To view a copy of this license, visit www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/.

Download PDF
Order a free copy HERE

**This piece is co-authored by Wanda Alarcón, Dolores Inés Casillas, Esther Díaz Martín, Sara Veronica Hinojos, and Cloe Gentile Reyes

For weeks, we have been inundated with executive orders (220 at last count), alarming budget cuts (from science and the arts to our national parks), stupendous tariff hikes, the defunding of DEI-anything, the banning of transgender troops, a Congressional renaming of the Gulf of Mexico, terrifying ICE raids, and sadly, a refreshed MAGA constituency with a reinvigorated anti-immigrant public sentiment. Worse, the handlers for the White House’s social media publish sinister MAGA-directed memes, GIFs across their social channels. These reputed Public Service Announcements (PSAs), under President Trump’s second term, ruthlessly go after immigrants. 

It’s difficult to refuse to listen despite our best attempts.

“The ASMR video was true.”

On February 18, 2025, the official White House social media account, @WhiteHouse, shared a 40-second video showing a group of detained immigrants boarding a military aircraft for deportation. The video was captioned: “ASMR: Illegal Alien Deportation Flight.” ASMR, or autonomous sensory meridian response, features gentle, soothing sounds—such as whispering, tapping, or brushing—which can evoke pleasurable tingling sensations. In this satirical ASMR-style post, however, the sounds include the clinking of metal shackles on concrete floors, the jangle of handcuffs against bodies, and the grating of metal on metal as detainees slowly ascend the aircraft’s steps. By framing these distressing noises within the ASMR genre, the video invites listeners to consume them as aesthetically pleasing; encouraging a visceral embodiment where the sounds of violence toward migrants elicit an uncontrollable physical pleasure that seeps through the body. This effectively turns state violence into an unsettling sonic spectacle. Cruelty towards migrants, according to Cristina Beltrán, is not a failure of democracy but an expression of it. The (sonic) spectacle of migrant cruelty functions as a political practice meant to sustain white democracy as both a racial and political category.

Framed within ASMR, Trump’s official message is unmistakably “saying the quiet part out loud.” But not all that well. A closer listen reveals that the roar of the jet engine drowns out more intimate, human sounds: footsteps on the tarmac, the rustle of police pat-downs, and the deep, rhythmic breaths—proof of life—condemned. Listening to this disturbing post, we become attuned to our own internal pleads; our refusal to believe until the unsettling truth confirms: this isn’t a parody or a hoax—it’s real.

How does a sonic social media trend—built around such sounds as the crinkling of chip bags, the crunches of eating, the tap-tap of acrylic nails, the gentle clinks of typing or espresso-making—become a soundboard for  the forced removal of immigrants? Indeed, the video has amassed nearly 105 million views on X alone. Clearly, the post broadcasts a pedagogy of cruelty—a lesson in how to aestheticize suffering—and we are left questioning just how far that message both travels and resonates. For many, the video is neither entertaining nor soothing, but rather shocking, offensive, and deeply disturbing. 

Written comments show more revulsion than support, with many users openly challenging the video. In doing so, their protest, contained in the comments, starts to dismantle the ASMR aesthetic, undercutting its intended sense of calm. After all, the video isn’t particularly convincing as ASMR to begin with! These are echoes of dissent, outrage, and refusal, that accompany the in-person collective actions that have taken place across the nation rallying against Trump’s broader white-supremacist and anti-democratic agenda. 

 “What was louder was the screaming and cursing inside my head.” 

History shows us that abolitionist efforts often relied on the sounds and images of chains to evoke empathy for enslaved Africans—making their suffering and humanity visible to a broader public. Yet, as Saidiya Hartman’s Scenes of Subjection makes clear, such representations can easily devolve into a spectacle of suffering, where the emphasis shifts from the enslaved person to the emotional response of the white witness. Today, that same auditory imagery—clinking metal, mechanical restraints—resurfaces, but in a profoundly different register. No longer stirring empathy, they risk desensitizing listeners to the pain and struggle of Latinx migrants. This ASMR instance, directed at MAGA-listeners, prioritizes a cruel-yet-gleeful response without any compassion whatsoever towards immigrants. 

The word “Illegal” in the caption further amplifies the discourse of criminality, evoking a long legacy of racialized policies and media portrayals that cast mexicanos and Chicanos as perpetually deportable. Note the hypocrisy in naming the people as illegal, when their forced removal without legal due process, is itself illegal. U.S. immigration policy—think Operation Wetback and the Bracero Program, have long simultaneously expelled and depended on Mexican labor. The enduring power of these tropes lies not just in law, but in sentiment—in the way migrants are imagined, portrayed, and ultimately policed in the public eye. Just as Hartman argues that the end of slavery did not mean the arrival of true freedom for Black Americans, so too have U.S. immigration policies failed to fully embrace immigrants as residents or neighbors and much less citizens. In both cases, legal status did not equate to genuine belonging or liberation.

What is notable in the current deployment of “illegality” in the @WhiteHouse post is its expanded scope: whereas earlier rhetoric primarily targeted Mexicans and Mexicanness this framing now extends to encompass all Latinx peoples, which always includes Black, Indigenous, Trans and Queer. This further intensifies prior waves of anti-Mexican sentiment while broadening the reach of criminalizing discourse. In doing so, it reinforces a racialized logic of illegality that casts an ever-widening net of suspicion and exclusion.

The MAGA White House’s broader propaganda – from the self-deport ads on Spanish-language media and Kristi Noem’s pinche photo-ops from CECOT (El Salvador’s infamous mega-prison) to SCOTUS attempts to revoke birthright citizenship – raises the stakes of listening, rendering our response—and our work as Latinx sound studies scholars—urgent. 

Like it or not, this video reshapes the contours of our field in real time. Using the ASMR video as a point of departure, we offer a mode of listening on the side of resistance—a practice that affirms our solidarity with migrants and their right to move, work, and live with dignity. Drawing on the work of the late María Lugones, we advocate for a practice of faithful witnessing—a listening attuned not only to sound, but to histories, structures, and acts of refusal that resist dehumanization.

Ofrenda

From Lugones’s book Pilgrimages/Peregrinajes: Theorizing Coalition Against Multiple Oppressions, she teaches that a collaborator witnesses from the side of power; a faithful witness stands with resistance even when it entails risk. And, to witness faithfully is to recognize and honor acts of resistance—even when doing so defies common sense of what we recognize as political acts/sounds. In Decolonizing Diasporas, Yomaira Figueroa-Vásquez reminds us of the important coalitional sociality Lugones envisions in practicing faithful witnessing. For Figueroa, “the practice of faithful witnessing is one that oppressed and colonized peoples have deployed since time immemorial as a method of bearing witness to each other’s humanity even as they faced myriad forms of violence” (156). 

Faithful witnessing entails centering the plight of all MAGA political scapegoats, migrants in precarity, pro-Palestinian student activists, the still separated children, trans youth, women, and who ever is next on the Project 2025 agenda. Faithful witnessing is not about centering our own emotional response, but about coming together to listen, to bear witness, and to protect. In response to these distorted public signals, we present a suite of countersonics, shared in a lo-fi listening mode that enacts faithful witnessing and affirms our roles as co-resisters to sonic oppression. We conclude with a noise-filled, healing artifact: a sonic limpia for deep listening and a playlist to sustain the good fight.

FOR THE FULL PLAYLIST CLICK THIS LINK, OR START BELOW!

—

Featured Image: Philly Immigrant May 1st, 2025 march for Justicia. Migrant workers and supporters rallied at 4th & Washington and marched in the streets to the AFL-CIO Mayday rally and march. Image by Joe Piette, cropped by SO! CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

—

Wanda Alarcón is an Assistant Professor of Gender and Women’s Studies at the University of Arizona. Her research takes up sound as a generative site and method for hearing and amplifying resistant grammars in Chicana narratives. She is currently working on her first book manuscript, Chicana Soundscapes, which listens closely to sound, noise, language, songs, echoes, and silences, and proposes decolonial feminist ways of hearing Chicana and queer Chicana worlds.

Dolores Inés Casillas (she/her/ella) is Director of the Chicano Studies Institute (CSI) and Professor of Chicana and Chicano Studies at UC Santa Barbara. Her research focuses on immigrant engagement with U.S. Spanish-language and bilingual media. She is the author of Sounds of Belonging: U.S. Spanish-language Radio and Public Advocacy (NYU Press, 2014), co-editor of The Companion to Latina/o Media Studies (Routledge Press, 2016) and Feeling It: Language, Race and Affect in Latinx Youth Learning (Routledge Press, 2018).

Esther Díaz Martín  (she/her/ella) is an Assistant Professor of Latin American and Latino Studies and Gender and Women’s Studies at the University of Illinois Chicago. Her book, Radiophonic Feminisms: Latina Voices in the Digital Age of Broadcasting, (UT Press, 2025) theorizes Chicana feminist listening and attends to the political work of Latina voices in contemporary sound media.

Sara Veronica Hinojos (she/her/ella) is an Assistant Professor of Media Studies at Queens College, CUNY. Her research critically engages popular representations of Chicanxs and Latinxs as racialized, “accented” speakers. Her current book project, The Racial Politics of Chicana and Chicano Linguistic Scripts in Media (1925-2014), intentionally brings together language politics, digital media, humor studies  and sound studies.

Cloe Gentile Reyes (she/her/ella) is a queer Boricua scholar, poet, and perreo profa from Miami Beach. She is a Faculty Fellow in NYU’s Department of Music and has a PhD in Musicology from UC Santa Barbara. Her writing focuses on how Indigenous Caribbean femmes navigate intergenerational trauma and healing through decolonial sound, fashion, and dance. Her pieces have been featured in Sounding Out!, Intervenxions, and the womanist magazine, Brown Sugar Lit. 

—

REWIND!…If you liked this post, you may also dig: 

“Oh how so East L.A.”: The Sound of 80s Flashbacks in Chicana Literature–Wanda Alarcón

Echoes in Transit: Loudly Waiting at the Paso del Norte Border Region–José Manuel Flores & Dolores Inés Casillas

Xicanacimiento, Life-giving Sonics of Critical Consciousness–Esther Díaz Martín and Kristian E. Vasquez

Listening to Digitized “Ratatas” or “No Sabo Kids”–Sara Veronica Hinojos and Eliana Buenrostro

Ronca Realness: Voices that Sound the Sucia Body–Cloe Gentile Reyes

Latinx Soundwave Series–Edited by Dolores Inés Casillas

**This piece is co-authored by Wanda Alarcón, Dolores Inés Casillas, Esther Díaz Martín, Sara Veronica Hinojos, and Cloe Gentile Reyes

For weeks, we have been inundated with executive orders (220 at last count), alarming budget cuts (from science and the arts to our national parks), stupendous tariff hikes, the defunding of DEI-anything, the banning of transgender troops, a Congressional renaming of the Gulf of Mexico, terrifying ICE raids, and sadly, a refreshed MAGA constituency with a reinvigorated anti-immigrant public sentiment. Worse, the handlers for the White House’s social media publish sinister MAGA-directed memes, GIFs across their social channels. These reputed Public Service Announcements (PSAs), under President Trump’s second term, ruthlessly go after immigrants. 

It’s difficult to refuse to listen despite our best attempts.

“The ASMR video was true.”

On February 18, 2025, the official White House social media account, @WhiteHouse, shared a 40-second video showing a group of detained immigrants boarding a military aircraft for deportation. The video was captioned: “ASMR: Illegal Alien Deportation Flight.” ASMR, or autonomous sensory meridian response, features gentle, soothing sounds—such as whispering, tapping, or brushing—which can evoke pleasurable tingling sensations. In this satirical ASMR-style post, however, the sounds include the clinking of metal shackles on concrete floors, the jangle of handcuffs against bodies, and the grating of metal on metal as detainees slowly ascend the aircraft’s steps. By framing these distressing noises within the ASMR genre, the video invites listeners to consume them as aesthetically pleasing; encouraging a visceral embodiment where the sounds of violence toward migrants elicit an uncontrollable physical pleasure that seeps through the body. This effectively turns state violence into an unsettling sonic spectacle. Cruelty towards migrants, according to Cristina Beltrán, is not a failure of democracy but an expression of it. The (sonic) spectacle of migrant cruelty functions as a political practice meant to sustain white democracy as both a racial and political category.

Framed within ASMR, Trump’s official message is unmistakably “saying the quiet part out loud.” But not all that well. A closer listen reveals that the roar of the jet engine drowns out more intimate, human sounds: footsteps on the tarmac, the rustle of police pat-downs, and the deep, rhythmic breaths—proof of life—condemned. Listening to this disturbing post, we become attuned to our own internal pleads; our refusal to believe until the unsettling truth confirms: this isn’t a parody or a hoax—it’s real.

How does a sonic social media trend—built around such sounds as the crinkling of chip bags, the crunches of eating, the tap-tap of acrylic nails, the gentle clinks of typing or espresso-making—become a soundboard for  the forced removal of immigrants? Indeed, the video has amassed nearly 105 million views on X alone. Clearly, the post broadcasts a pedagogy of cruelty—a lesson in how to aestheticize suffering—and we are left questioning just how far that message both travels and resonates. For many, the video is neither entertaining nor soothing, but rather shocking, offensive, and deeply disturbing. 

Written comments show more revulsion than support, with many users openly challenging the video. In doing so, their protest, contained in the comments, starts to dismantle the ASMR aesthetic, undercutting its intended sense of calm. (After all, the video isn’t particularly convincing as ASMR to begin with.) These are echoes of dissent, outrage, and refusal, that accompany the in-person collective actions that have taken place across the nation rallying against Trump’s broader white-supremacist and anti-democratic agenda. 

 “What was louder was the screaming and cursing inside my head.” 

History shows us that abolitionist efforts often relied on the sounds and images of chains to evoke empathy for enslaved Africans—making their suffering and humanity visible to a broader public. Yet, as Saidiya Hartman’s Scenes of Subjection makes clear, such representations can easily devolve into a spectacle of suffering, where the emphasis shifts from the enslaved person to the emotional response of the white witness. Today, that same auditory imagery—clinking metal, mechanical restraints—resurfaces, but in a profoundly different register. No longer stirring empathy, they risk desensitizing listeners to the pain and struggle of Latinx migrants. This ASMR instance, directed at MAGA-listeners, prioritizes a cruel-yet-gleeful response without any compassion whatsoever towards immigrants. 

The word “Illegal” in the caption further amplifies the discourse of criminality, evoking a long legacy of racialized policies and media portrayals that cast mexicanos and Chicanos as perpetually deportable. Note the hypocrisy in naming the people as illegal, when their forced removal without legal due process, is itself illegal. U.S. immigration policy—think Operation Wetback and the Bracero Program, have long simultaneously expelled and depended on Mexican labor. The enduring power of these tropes lies not just in law, but in sentiment—in the way migrants are imagined, portrayed, and ultimately policed in the public eye. Just as Saidiya Hartman argues that the end of slavery did not mean the arrival of true freedom for Black Americans, so too have U.S. immigration policies failed to fully embrace immigrants as residents or neighbors and much less citizens. In both cases, legal status did not equate to genuine belonging or liberation.

What is notable in the current deployment of “illegality” in the @WhiteHouse post is its expanded scope: whereas earlier rhetoric primarily targeted Mexicans and Mexicanness this framing now extends to encompass all Latinx peoples, which always includes Black, Indigenous, Trans and Queer. This further intensifies prior waves of anti-Mexican sentiment while broadening the reach of criminalizing discourse. In doing so, it reinforces a racialized logic of illegality that casts an ever-widening net of suspicion and exclusion.

The MAGA White House’s broader propaganda – from the self-deport ads on Spanish-language media and Kristi Noem’s pinche photo-ops from CECOT (El Salvador’s infamous mega-prison) to SCOTUS attempts to revoke birthright citizenship – raises the stakes of listening, rendering our response—and our work as Latinx sound studies scholars—urgent. 

Like it or not, this video reshapes the contours of our field in real time. Using the ASMR video as a point of departure, we offer a mode of listening on the side of resistance—a practice that affirms our solidarity with migrants and their right to move, work, and live with dignity. Drawing on the work of the late María Lugones, we advocate for a practice of faithful witnessing—a listening attuned not only to sound, but to histories, structures, and acts of refusal that resist dehumanization.

Ofrenda

From Lugones’s book Pilgrimages/Peregrinajes: Theorizing Coalition Against Multiple Oppressions, she teaches that a collaborator witnesses from the side of power; a faithful witness stands with resistance even when it entails risk. And, to witness faithfully is to recognize and honor acts of resistance—even when doing so defies common sense of what we recognize as political acts/sounds. In Decolonizing Diasporas, Yomaira Figueroa-Vásquez reminds us of the important coalitional sociality Lugones envisions in practicing faithful witnessing. For Figueroa, “the practice of faithful witnessing is one that oppressed and colonized peoples have deployed since time immemorial as a method of bearing witness to each other’s humanity even as they faced myriad forms of violence” (156). 

Faithful witnessing entails centering the plight of all MAGA political scapegoats, migrants in precarity, pro-Palestinian student activists, the still separated children, trans youth, women, and who ever is next on the Project 2025 agenda. Faithful witnessing is not about centering our own emotional response, but about coming together to listen, to bear witness, and to protect. In response to these distorted public signals, we present a suite of countersonics, shared in a lo-fi listening mode that enacts faithful witnessing and affirms our roles as co-resisters to sonic oppression. We conclude with a noise-filled, healing artifact: a sonic limpia for deep listening and a playlist to sustain the good fight.

FOR THE FULL PLAYLIST CLICK THIS LINK, OR START BELOW!

—

Featured Image: Philly Immigrant May 1st, 2025 march for Justicia. Migrant workers and supporters rallied at 4th & Washington and marched in the streets to the AFL-CIO Mayday rally and march. Image by Joe Piette, cropped by SO! CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

—

Wanda Alarcón is an Assistant Professor of Gender and Women’s Studies at the University of Arizona. Her research takes up sound as a generative site and method for hearing and amplifying resistant grammars in Chicana narratives. She is currently working on her first book manuscript, Chicana Soundscapes, which listens closely to sound, noise, language, songs, echoes, and silences, and proposes decolonial feminist ways of hearing Chicana and queer Chicana worlds.

Dolores Inés Casillas (she/her/ella) is Director of the Chicano Studies Institute (CSI) and Professor of Chicana and Chicano Studies at UC Santa Barbara. Her research focuses on immigrant engagement with U.S. Spanish-language and bilingual media. She is the author of Sounds of Belonging: U.S. Spanish-language Radio and Public Advocacy (NYU Press, 2014), co-editor of The Companion to Latina/o Media Studies (Routledge Press, 2016) and Feeling It: Language, Race and Affect in Latinx Youth Learning (Routledge Press, 2018).

Esther Díaz Martín  (she/her/ella) is an Assistant Professor of Latin American and Latino Studies and Gender and Women’s Studies at the University of Illinois Chicago. Her book, Latina Radiophonic Feminisms: Sounding Gender Politics into the Digital Age, (fUT Press, 2025) theorizes Chicana feminist listening and attends to the political work of Latina voices in contemporary sound media.

Sara Veronica Hinojos (she/her/ella) is an Assistant Professor of Media Studies at Queens College, CUNY. Her research critically engages popular representations of Chicanxs and Latinxs as racialized, “accented” speakers. Her current book project, The Racial Politics of Chicana and Chicano Linguistic Scripts in Media (1925-2014), intentionally brings together language politics, digital media, humor studies  and sound studies.

Cloe Gentile Reyes (she/her/ella) is a queer Boricua scholar, poet, and perreo profa from Miami Beach. She is a Faculty Fellow in NYU’s Department of Music and has a PhD in Musicology from UC Santa Barbara. Her writing focuses on how Indigenous Caribbean femmes navigate intergenerational trauma and healing through decolonial sound, fashion, and dance. Her pieces have been featured in Sounding Out!, Intervenxions, and the womanist magazine, Brown Sugar Lit. 

—

REWIND!…If you liked this post, you may also dig: 

“Oh how so East L.A.”: The Sound of 80s Flashbacks in Chicana Literature–Wanda Alarcón

Echoes in Transit: Loudly Waiting at the Paso del Norte Border Region–José Manuel Flores & Dolores Inés Casillas

Xicanacimiento, Life-giving Sonics of Critical Consciousness–Esther Díaz Martín and Kristian E. Vasquez

Listening to Digitized “Ratatas” or “No Sabo Kids”–Sara Veronica Hinojos and Eliana Buenrostro

Ronca Realness: Voices that Sound the Sucia Body–Cloe Gentile Reyes

Latinx Soundwave Series–Edited by Dolores Inés Casillas

AI_Anxiety

Produced by Jordi Viader Guerrero, Dmitry Muravyov, Erica Gargaglione, Aarón Moreno Inglés, Mariana Fernández Mora, and Orestis Kollyris

With contributions by Dmitry Muravyov, Jordi Viader Guerrero, Ali Alkhatib, Marcela Suárez, Aarón Moreno Inglés, Eke Rebergen, Erica Gargaglione, Mariana Fernández Mora, Orestis Kollyris, Daniel Leix Palumbo, Alexandra Barancová, Jef Ausloos, Oksana Dorofeeva, Rasa Bocyte, Nic Orchard, Ruben van de Ven, Donald Jay Bertulfo, Michaël Grauwde, Ildikó Plájás, Marlon Kruizinga, Caitlin van Bommel, and Inte Gloerich.