Lives in Transit chronicles the dangerous journeys of Central American migrants in transit through Mexico. Drawing on fieldwork in humanitarian aid shelters and other key sites, Wendy A. Vogt examines the multiple forms of violence that migrants experience as their bodies, labor, and lives become implicated in global and local economies that profit from their mobility as racialized and gendered others. She also reveals new forms of intimacy, solidarity, and activism that have emerged along transit routes over the past decade. Through the stories of migrants, shelter workers, and local residents, Vogt encourages us to reimagine transit as a site of both violence and precarity as well as social struggle and resistance.
**This book was read and review was written for my Senior Seminar: Rethinking Human Rights & Humanitarianism at NYU.
Wendy A. Vogt’s book, Lives in Transit: Violence and Intimacy on the Migrant Journey, is a chronicle of the violent and dangerous journey of migrants from Central America who travel through Mexico on their way to the United States. She bases her writing on her fieldwork experience at migrant shelters, as well as other key sites of the migrant journey. Vogt is able to examine the various forms of violence experienced by migrants and displays how the different aspects of the migrant identity, be it their physical bodies, labor, and overall lives, are pulled into the economies that profit off of their suffering. Throughout the book, Vogt touches on many aspects of the migrant experience, from being exploited for profit to the new forms of intimacy, solidarity, and activism that formed as a result of this treacherous journey. Although Vogt is the main, continuous voice that ties all these stories together, the reader is taken along on the migrant experience through the stories of migrants, shelter workers, and local residents, all who have unique perspectives.
Vogt’s use of narrative and personal experience is a theme throughout the book and is a crucial part of her overall argument. As stated in her introduction, “in the United States, political and public discourses on migration from Latin America typically begin and end at the U.S.–Mexico border, but for many people crossing that border is but one phase of a much longer journey” (2). States and politics, as well as the media, play a significant role in the hegemony of the migration narrative. Vogt states how “media and politicians often attribute the violence experienced by migrants to a typical cast of “bad guys”—brutal drug cartels, human smugglers, a few “bad apple” corrupt authorities, and sometimes migrants themselves. Indeed, unauthorized migrants are treated as both criminals and victims, depending on political strategy and context. In all these cases, blame is placed on opaque extralegal entities that render states and citizens devoid of responsibility,” (4). But migrants are not simply players in migration policy and how they might impact the United States’ economy; they are individuals, human beings who have real experiences, and these experiences deserve to be heard and acknowledged. The first-hand narrative accounts allow the migrants to be humanized and to provide the reader with an insight to their personal experiences. It puts the migrant experience into a different perspective, outside of the context of policy and law, but rather shows the effects of these immigration policies.
Another theme is how Vogt’s writing style plays a role in how the reader absorbs these narratives. Her strength is balancing her analysis and experience with the stories and experiences shared with those she meets, be it migrants, shelter workers, and so on. The style could loosely be compared to that of a journal, where Vogt’s thoughts and experiences are shared genuinely. She does not stick to a strict academic voice, but rather writes personally and with ‘I’ statements, which is a theme present throughout the book. Most of her transitions, especially between the different people she talks about, consist of her setting the scene. For example, before she delves into Hector and his story, she begins with “On a late winter afternoon a few weeks before Christmas, I entered the living room of Casa Guadalupe where I found Hector reading a small pocket-sized bible” (38). The reader is able to visualize themselves in the moment as well and creates a more personal connection between the reader and the person whose story is being told.
Through this personal writing style, the reader, often an outsider to these situations, shares the surprise and shock with Vogt when learning about the traumas and dangers of the migrant journey. Because it is not written in a strictly academic sense, one experiences the emotions along with Vogt and is able to feel a connection with the stories. The personal aspects of both Vogt’s reflections and the interviews and stories of those she met evoke empathy with the reader and urge a moment of reflection about these experiences and lead the reader to reconsider their perspective on the migrant journey, especially in comparison to the narrative from the media and politics.
Lives in Transit: Violence and Intimacy on the Migrant Journey by Wendy A. Vogt is a wonderful book for those who want to delve into the migrant experience of the US-Mexican border. With a wide array of voices and experiences included throughout Vogt’s process of recording the migrant journey, the book allows the reader to experience a variety of emotions. Though the book is seemingly effective in evoking empathy, it is possible that the book is aimed towards a specific readership. Those who are searching for an alternative to the hegemonic narrative of the media and politics will find what they are looking for in Vogt’s book; it provides a holistic view of the migrant journey on the southern border. Anyone interested in the human rights of migration will most likely find interest in it, but those who are not open to new perspectives may not even consider this text. Lives in Transit: Violence and Intimacy on the Migrant Journey is a perfect choice for those who want to become more informed about the various forms of violence behind immigration in the United States and are willing to have an open mind.
I appreciate very much this intimate and yet scholarly portrait of what is happening in Central America, and Mexico especially. This is what I have been waiting for: a re-framing of migration that goes beyond binary. I am impressed with how deeply the author embedded herself in her work, and how open she was to the complexity of roles and forces at play.
She references many works that came before hers, and I will be seeking them out. But I am especially looking forward to work that comes after this -- that responds to what feels like a new stone in our path of understanding mobility and thinking about mobility justice.
this book has kind of given me a similar feeling to the first time i learned about the holocaust in elementary school, like the shock of such violence allowed to exist and anger at yourself for living so unaware of it. no wonder US schools (including higher ed) teach immigration as a broad concept bc wow this is horrific