In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

• Digital Diasporic Tactics for a Decolonized FutureTweeting in the Wake of #HurricaneMaria
• Jessica N. Pabón-Colón (bio)

How the shapes we grow into mark long gone places, residues of ash or blood or iron, broken shards, the print of a foot, a kernel of corn, a fragment of rope. This story is about reading the residues.

—aurora levins morales, remedíos: stories of earth and iron from the history of puertorriqueñas

Reading the Residues

Colonization takes more than land; colonization takes more than land, more than once. “Sponsored migration” (re)moves more than the people from that stolen land; sponsored migration (re)moves the people along with the histories, the archives, the memories, the embodied practices—the web of ephemeral connections that make a people, a people.¹ The agents of empire craft and deposit ideologies and institutions in place of what’s been forcibly (re)moved as if working with a blank canvas. The (re)moved peoples, and their (dis)placed misplaced descendants, then learn the histories, the archives, the memories, and the embodied practices of their ancestors from within the colonizer’s binaries and through the colonizer’s gaze, the colonizer’s textbooks, the colonizer’s laws, the colonizer’s media, and the colonizer’s language. Of course, we learn these things from our families too, but our families can teach only the lessons that have survived removal, punishment, and enforced assimilation.

As a light-skinned, bisexual, Puerto Rican born and raised in Boston with [End Page 185] minimal Spanish language skills, my sense of belonging to the Puerto Rican community has always been tenuous. My right to claim ownership is informed by intragroup cultural norms and a white supremacist heteropatriarchal colonial gaze measuring authenticity against sexuality, religion, geography, language, and skin color.² Only recently, through a concerted effort to unlearn coloniality (within the privileged walls of academia where I am paid to learn and think) have I been able to understand and appreciate the gravity of what’s been stolen and how. Through that self-study, I have come to understand my subject position—a Puerto Rican in the diaspora, a “diasporican”—as a shape I’ve grown into through centuries of colonization at the hands of Spanish and then US empire. Diasporican is a shape we’ve grown into while negotiating the hardened residues of colonial trauma.

In what follows, I narrate how and why I made sense of my place, my purpose, my feelings, and my responsibilities in the wake of Hurricane Maria—a category five storm that made landfall in Puerto Rico just two weeks after Hurricane Irma, also a category five. Admittedly, I was surprised by my emotional response to the real possibility that our modest Pabón family home in Trujillo Alto had been destroyed (a speculation that was confirmed by my visit in June 2018). But there it was: the feeling of devastation demanding to be acknowledged, asking to be held. I am the (grand)daughter of (re)moved women and although I am not on the archipelago, I am still of it—capable of experiencing physical and emotional trauma and grief from a distance. The residues of colonial trauma in, on, and of my bodymind refused to be invisibilized, silent, or smoothed over in the days, weeks, and months following the storm. Instead, they became sticky, demanding that I stick with them, analyze them, and understand them.The essay that follows is the result of sticking with those residues and a gesture of optimism: a hopeful contribution to building a collective historiography of the aftermath of Hurricane Maria as experienced and witnessed from the Puerto Rican diaspora—not to eclipse or prioritize the diasporican experience over the traumas of those who survived the storm firsthand (and continue to survive imperial neglect in its aftermath) but to add my voice to a collective and persistent call for decolonization.

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When Hurricane Maria made landfall, I had just turned my attention to a new book project on diasporic Puerto Rican subjectivity—telling my truths as best I could but in the limited environment of the academic conference circuit.³ Then, in September 2017, the urgency of telling...

中文翻译：

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非殖民化未来的数字流散策略：在#HurricaneMaria唤醒后发布推文

代替摘要，这里是内容的简要摘录：

• 在#HurricaneMaria唤醒后进行非殖民化未来鸣叫的数字流散策略
• 杰西卡（Jessica N.）

我们长成的形状如何标记出已久的地方，灰烬，血液或铁的残留物，破碎的碎片，脚的印记，玉米粒，绳索的碎片。这个故事是关于读取残留物的。

—奥罗拉·莱文斯的士气，解决方法：来自于普埃尔托里克尼亚斯历史的泥土和铁的故事

读取残留物

殖民化所占的比土地还多；殖民化不仅需要土地，而且需要不止一次。“赞助移民”使被偷走的土地所迁移的人数超过了人们。赞助的移民活动将人们与历史，档案，记忆，具体实践一起移动（重新建立人与人之间的短暂联系网）。^1个帝国的手工艺人和存款人的意识形态和机构代替了被强迫（重新）搬走的东西，就像在一块空白的画布上工作一样。被移居的人民及其被放错地方的后代，然后从殖民者的二进制文件中，以及通过殖民者的目光，殖民者的教科书，殖民者的法律，殖民者的媒体和殖民者的语言。当然，我们也从家人那里学到了这些东西，但是我们的家人只能教那些在搬迁，惩罚和强迫同化中幸存下来的教训。

作为波光粼粼的双性恋者，波多黎各人在波士顿出生并长大，只有很少的西班牙语技能。[结束第185页]我对波多黎各人的归属感一直很脆弱。我拥有所有权的权利是由集团内部的文化规范和白人至上主义异族家长制的殖民凝视所决定的，该凝视凝视着针对性，宗教，地理，语言和肤色的真实性。²直到最近，通过共同努力，取消了殖民地（在我有报酬来学习和思考的学术界的特权之墙内），我才能够理解和理解被盗窃物的严重性和方式。通过自学，我逐渐了解了自己的学科位置，即散居在国外的波多黎各人，“散居狂者”，经过数个世纪的殖民统治，我已经成长为西班牙人，然后是美国帝国。Diasporican是我们在与殖民地创伤中硬化的残留物进行谈判时已经成长为一种形状。

在接下来的内容中，我将讲述在飓风“玛丽亚”（Maria）袭击之后的位置，目的，感觉和责任的理解方式和原因，这是第五类风暴，距飓风“艾尔玛”（Irma）仅两周就降落在波多黎各第五类。诚然，我对我们在特鲁希略奥拓的谦虚的Pabón家庭住宅被摧毁的真实反应感到惊讶，这让我感到惊讶（这一猜测得到了我2018年6月的访问的证实）。但事实是：毁灭性的感觉要求得到承认，要求保持下去。我是（移居）妇女的（外孙女），虽然我不在群岛上，但我仍然是它能够远距离遭受身体和情感上的创伤和悲伤。在暴风雨后的数天，数周和数月内，我的脑中，身上和身上的殖民地创伤残留物都无法消失，保持沉默或变得平滑。相反，它们变得粘滞，要求我坚持，分析和理解它们。接下来的文章是坚持这些残差和乐观姿态的结果：对建立后遗症的集体史学有希望的贡献玛丽亚飓风是波多黎各人散居国外的经验和见证，不是使散居狂人的经历黯然失色或优先于那些在暴风雨中幸存下来的人的创伤（并在皇帝的后遗症中继续幸免于难），而是将我的声音带给一个集体和持续呼吁非殖民化。

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当玛丽亚飓风登陆时，我刚刚将注意力转移到了一个关于散居波多黎各人的主观性的新书项目上，尽管在学术会议巡回赛的有限环境中，我还是尽我最大的努力讲了真话。³然后，在2017年9月，迫切需要告诉...