How Karma Palzom-Pasha Does History

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Editor’s note: This is the fifteenth entry in a series on how historians—especially contingent historians and those employed outside of tenure-track academia—do the work of history. If you know of someone we should interview, or would like to be interviewed yourself, send an email with the subject line HOW I DO HISTORY to pitches@contingentmag.org.


Karma Palzom-Pasha (@palzomkarma on Twitter) is a historian of twentieth-century Tibet and the United States. Here’s how she does history.

What’s your current position? How long have you worked there?

I am currently a PhD candidate in the Department of History at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. I started in the History program right after I graduated from college, so I’ve been at UW-Madison for a while. In my second year of graduate school, I took courses and worked as a teaching assistant for two Asian American history courses. Both classes had large enrollments, so I had three teaching assistants colleagues. We all had four discussion sections, each with 18 students. I remember struggling in the first two years of teaching because I was new to being an instructor and was also working on my master’s thesis. Those first few years were difficult, but it taught me a lot about teaching with grace to students during tough parts of their semester. I worked as a teaching assistant for about five years, and also took positions as a grader and a project assistant within the History Department.

Tell our readers what a typical day or week of work is like for you. 

For the 2020-2021 academic year, I was on a departmental fellowship, so I had the privilege to only focus on finishing my dissertation. Typically, I use Sundays to brainstorm all the small tasks I need to do that will help me reach my goal of finishing a dissertation chapter within a semester. Then, during my work week, I do a mixture of research, reading, and writing. The reason I do this is because most times I’m not able to just write new paragraphs. I learned from experience that setting aside writing time can be anything I need it to be. It doesn’t have to be writing for hours on end; it can be re-reading a book that you think will fit into your argument or just journaling your thoughts when you feel stuck in your writing. It took a couple of years to figure out what worked best for me.

You are a PhD candidate. For those unfamiliar with the term or not sure what candidacy means, what does it mean?

Being a PhD candidate means that I have fulfilled all the degree requirements for the PhD except for completing and defending my dissertation. The History PhD program at UW-Madison requires a completion of two years of coursework, a language proficiency exam, preliminary exams, and a two-year review. My dissertation committee also had to approve my dissertation proposal before I could begin conducting research. My research has an international focus, so I’ve been to India and Nepal to collect archival materials and conduct oral history interviews. I have four professors on my dissertation committee. My major advisor, Cindy I-Fen Cheng, is one of them and the other three are faculty who study the same time period or conduct research in the same area of specialty as me.

Karma’s friend Rinchen Sangmo (in the red and black Tibetan dress) hosted her at her home for Losar, or Tibetan New Year, with her family in Dharamsala, India. All photos provided by the author.

Have you always been interested in history? If so, what’s your earliest memory about a historical topic or event? 

My upbringing in a Tibetan refugee camp in Pokhara, Nepal influenced my interest in history. My family, like many Tibetan families, lived in a small home subsidized by the Tibetan Government-in-Exile. It was a community of Tibetans who knew one another and celebrated Tibetan holidays and commemorations together, such as the March 10 Tibetan Uprising Day. A memory I haven’t forgotten as a child was when our community gathered around a TV in our elementary school in the evening to watch the news of the first Tibetan to self-immolate to protest for Tibetan independence. This occurred several months before my family immigrated to the United States in 1998. His name was Thupten Ngodup and he was participating in an indefinite hunger strike in India, organized by the Tibetan Youth Congress, before he decided to self-immolate. I grew up exclusively around Tibetan people who were very nationalistic and anti-Chinese. When my family reunited with my father in the United States, living here, especially in the Midwest, complicated what it meant to be Tibetan. It sparked questions for me on how to struggle for liberation when it’s not only about Chinese colonial occupation of Tibet, but also about being an immigrant of color, a refugee, and an Asian American in the United States.

I don’t think I saw my interest in history as a career that I could pursue because the idea of college, according to my parents, was to enter into a STEM field and eventually work in a hospital. I also didn’t have family members that went to college, so it was only later when I began to conduct historical research in the Ronald E. McNair post-baccalaureate program that I took the opportunity to choose history as a major.

My earliest memory about a historical topic is a funny story. In fifth grade, the students had to do a class presentation about religion. I naturally thought about Tibet and chose to talk about Tibetan Bön religious practices. Bön is an indigenous religious tradition in Tibet founded by Tonpa Shenrab. It is based on a shamanistic religion that was practiced prior to the spread of Tibetan Buddhism in the 7th century. I spent a lot of time Googling about it on my family’s computer and ended up taking too many notes. When it was time to present, I talked for far too long. My peers got bored listening to me, and my fifth-grade teacher didn’t know if she should stop me or not.

At the University of Wisconsin’s Bascom Hall, holding her master’s diploma in History: “Coming from a refugee camp in Nepal, my family is proud that I earned a master’s degree.”

Tell us about your undergraduate and graduate school experiences so far. Was history your main area of study as an undergraduate? 

I received my BA in History and History of Science, Medicine, and Technology and a master’s degree in History at UW-Madison. My bachelor’s is a joint degree in the History of Science and the History department. When I was in college, they used to be separate departments but have recently merged together into one department. Courses in the History of Science teach the development and impact of science from ancient Greece to the present. The two courses that I loved the most were, “The Development of Public Health in America,” taught by former Assistant Professor Dayle B. Delancey, and “Health Care and Society in America,” taught by Professor Susan E. Lederer.

My master’s degree culminated in a two-chapter thesis that analyzed Tibetan-American history and examined transformations in the Tibetan Freedom Movement. The first three years of graduate school were tough. It was challenging to be a student and also assert myself as an authority on my topic. But I enjoyed the process of matriculating in the program because my mentor/advisor was hands-on in supporting me through each stage of the PhD requirements. And on the other hand, it also helped to have family and friends who had no idea what I do and reminded me to take a break and enjoy time with them.

So far, what has been your largest research project? Is it your dissertation? If so, tell us about it. 

My dissertation is an expansion of my master’s thesis. I examine how Tibetan democracy deeply informed the methods of the political struggle of Tibetan exiles living in India, Nepal, and the United States. I focus on the political and cultural activities of Tibetans in the United States to argue how their participation in the Tibetan Freedom Movement played a key role in the idea of Tibetan liberation, whereby desiring U.S. intervention in Sino-Tibetan affairs has shaped their Tibetan American identity.

After the Chinese colonial invasion of Tibet in 1959, His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama and thousands of Tibetans sought refuge in India, Nepal, and Bhutan. In 1959, the Dalai Lama officially established a Tibetan Government-in-Exile and in 1963 presented a draft democratic constitution to democratize the administration. Later, the working constitution was finalized as the “Charter of Tibetans in Exile” in 1991. They also created offices abroad in various countries, called the Office of Tibet, to strengthen the political agenda of the Tibetan Government-in-Exile.

I explore how the value and practice of Tibetan democracy has greatly shaped the kinds of support and solidarity sought by the Tibetan exile leadership. In their efforts to gain the United States as an ally to the Tibetan cause, the Office of Tibet in New York used cultural and religious enrichment to bring awareness about Tibet during Sino-American rapprochement. I argue that although India is an important site of the Tibetan political struggle, the belief of the superiority of American democracy has made the United States another space in which the Tibetan diaspora has reinterpreted ideas of social justice, nationalism, citizenship, and identity. Moreover, the resettlement of 1,000 Tibetans to the United States under the Immigration of Act of 1990, Tibetan Provision 134 accelerated the ways in which Tibetan exiles understood their American citizenship as a means to advance the Tibetan Freedom Movement.

1970 edition of Sheja, a Tibetan language magazine, established in Dharamsala, India in 1968 by Tibetan democratic activists Tenzin Namgyal Tethong, Tenzin Geyche Tethong, and Sonam Topgyal.

You’re a historian of the Tibetan diaspora. What does that mean and for those interested in this field and wanting to learn more about it, what are some helpful works and resources? Who are some scholars (of these fields or the broader fields of exile, immigration, and transnational political activism) that have inspired you and your work? 

As a U.S. historian, the field of Tibetan diaspora is expansive because the topic requires me to be knowledgeable about U.S. immigration, post-colonial studies, movement politics, politics of indigeneity, to name a few. I find myself reading all kinds of literature as it pertains to understanding the transnational dimension of the Tibetan Freedom Movement. For me, there are mainly three groups of literature that inform my work: Sino-Tibetan history, Asian American Studies, and Critical Refugee Studies. Scholars that have inspired my work, but are not limited to, are: Tsering Shakya, Dawa Norbu, Carole McGranahan, Dibyesh Anand, Lisa Lowe, Erika Lee, Mae Ngai, and Yen Le Espiritu.

To begin to learn about the Tibetan sovereignty debate, I recommend four important books to get a survey of twentieth century Tibet. Those are: The Dragon in the Land of Snows: A History of Modern Tibet Since 1947 by Tsering Shakya; China’s Tibet Policy by Dawa Norbu; Tibet: A Political History by Tsepon W.D. Shakabpa; and In Exile from the Land of Snows: The Definitive Account of the Dalai Lama and Tibet Since the Chinese Conquest by John Avedon.

To learn about Asian American history, I recommend: At America’s Gates: Chinese Immigration During the Exclusion Era, 1842-1943 by Erika Lee; Impossible Subjects: Illegal Aliens and the Making of Modern America, by Mae Ngai; Body Counts: The Vietnam War and Militarized Refuge(es) by Yen Le Espiritu. Professor Yen Le Espiritu is also one of the founding members of The Critical Refugee Studies Collective. If you search the name online, there is an official website that provides a bibliography of important authors in the field.

Enjoying a camel ride with her friend Shruti in Jodhpur, India.

What do you think is the toughest part of tackling a research project? 

For me, the toughest part of tackling a research project is creating a timeline for when I think I can complete it. I look at a research project in stages, such as giving myself a semester to finish one chapter. And within that semester, I try to assess the tasks, the hours set aside to do them, in conjunction with service work and time to have a life outside of academia.

My research is very personal, so it is hard to think of it as work. My parents, grandparents, and extended family members’ experienced hardships living as refugees for the majority of their lives, and some still live in refugee camps. My research is fulfilling because I find it important to capture on paper, to put it on the record, the depth of what Chinese colonization has done to my people. There is trauma in the Tibetan community, both in Tibet and in the diaspora. I have the privilege to use a pen and paper to share our collective story to the best of my ability. I think scholars whose work is about their community make efforts to find balance in doing good enough in their research without feeling like they should do more. It especially is tough to follow a timeline of completion when there are events in life that make it hard to do so and when you are writing a history that examines violence and displacement.

What’s the best piece of advice you have received about conducting research? 

I have two best pieces of advice. When I was in India for my Fulbright, my advisor shared with me that the best way of knowing what to collect at the archives was to read what interested me and to make sure I saved it. It was simple advice but helped me a lot during my nine-month research fellowship abroad. I felt the pressure to collect as much material as I could so her words helped me feel confident in how to approach my work. The other piece of advice I got is from another professor who advised me that at some point, it’s best to stop collecting materials and start writing my analysis. I do a combination of reading and writing when I feel stuck, but most of the time I spend time writing words on paper rather than worrying about not having read enough.

How would you describe your writing process?

My writing process has stages. First, I create an outline of the whole project, such as including what content goes in each chapter. Then I focus on detailing the outline of one of the chapters that I’m working on. What works best for me is creating a chapter template. I set aside a page limit for the introduction and conclusion, and page limits for three sections within the chapter. I don’t try to exactly follow the page limit, but it more so serves as a guidepost for me. Then I block out several weeks that I aim to dedicate to specific sections of the chapter. It is much more manageable to create chunks of tasks than to wake up every day and say you’re working on fifty-some pages of writing.

Having a routine of writing in stages has tremendously changed the quality of my work. I end up with a first draft that I feel is good enough for someone else to read and provide feedback. And when it is time to make revisions, then the writing cycle continues again. I credit my writing habits to Unstuck: The Art of Productivity, created and facilitated by Kel Weinhold, and the National Center for Faculty Development and Diversity, founded by Kerry Ann Rockquemore.

Receiving blessings from His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama at his residence, the Tsuglakhang temple.

From 2018-2019, you were a Fulbright Fellow. Where were you based and tell us about the experience. 

I was a 2018-2019 Fulbright-Nehru Fellow based in Dharamsala, India. I spent nine months conducting research at the Tibet Policy Institute with mentorship from Director Tenzin Lekshay and Research Fellow Dr. Rinchen Dorjee. I collected several oral history interviews from Tibetans who work at the Tibetan Government-in-Exile and from Tibetan activists in organizations such as the Students for a Free Tibet, Tibetan Youth Congress, and Tibetan Women’s Association. I also digitized many Tibetan magazines (some were written in English) as well as Tibetan language reports that are not as accessible in the United States.

In Dharamsala, there weren’t any other Fulbrighters during the months I lived there. I met a Tibetan friend who helped me find housing right above her apartment. Most of the time I would wear my black Tibetan chupa dress and walk down to Gangchen Kyishong, which is the location of major offices of the Tibetan Government-in-Exile in India. There, I’d digitize documents from the Tibet Policy Institute’s library until lunch time and then take a taxi up to the town of McLeod Ganj to use the internet cafe. In my time in Dharamsala, I regularly took taxis in three areas: there is lower Dharamsala where mostly local Indians live and there are markets to buy groceries, clothing, and household items; then when you drive uphill you’ll reach the Gangkyi area where it’s mostly the administrative unit of the Tibetan Government-in-Exile, known as the Gangchen Kyishong; when you drive further up, you’ll reach McLeod Ganj where many Tibetans live, there are Tibetan restaurants, Tibetan stores, Tibetan-managed hotels, and His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama’s residence. Most Tibetans have family in India but since my relatives live in Nepal, it was a bit lonesome. I was able to fly to Nepal and visit my cousins for about two weeks during my fellowship. At the end of the Fulbright, I had a special opportunity to receive blessings from His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama.

What do you think is the biggest misconception people have about what historians do and how they work? 

I think the biggest misconception is that there is a “single” historical perspective that is correct. It’s important to understand the study of historical writing because it gets at that problem. I also think students believe there is a neutral way of teaching history. I could not teach Asian American history without teaching the racist practices of U.S. immigration exclusion or the colonization of Hawaii by white and Asian settlers. I also could not teach Tibetan history without addressing the Sino-Tibetan conflict as Chinese settler colonialism in Tibet.

Karma’s aunt Ngawang and her cousin Choden, who live in Toronto, Canada, came to see her Fulbright research presentation at the Tibet Policy Institute during their visit to Dharamsala, India.

What will you be working on next semester? 

For the 2021-2022 academic year, I will be a Dana-Allen Dissertation Fellow at the Institute for Research in the Humanities at UW-Madison. My time as a Dana-Allen Fellow consists of participating in weekly seminars where other fellows present their work to UW-Madison faculty and students, in addition to attending other IRH events designed to foster conversations and discussions among fellows. Mainly, this fellowship will allow me to focus on finishing my second to last dissertation chapter. I will also get an opportunity to present my dissertation project and get feedback from the IRH community.

Can you tell us about some previous classes you have taught? 

I’ve mostly taught Asian American studies classes. At a predominantly white institution like UW-Madison, I’ve learned from experience that college students either take these classes as freshmen to check off their ethnic studies requirement or take it as a senior as a last requirement course to graduate. And there is a misconception that Asian American history is learning about the cultures of Asian people. With that being said, I teach introductory courses to Asian American history, which takes a bottom-up approach to center the voices of ordinary Asian immigrants in the United States, who struggled to belong culturally and politically as “American.” My goal is to teach students that Asian American history is our collective history of racism, immigration exclusion, and violence in the United States.

If money, time, and distance were not issues, what’s a dream project you’d love to tackle? Or what’s a class you have always wanted to teach, but just haven’t had the opportunity to? 

My dream project would be to create an archive of oral history interviews of Tibetan immigrants in the United States. This community is relatively new, beginning with the Immigration Act of 1990, Tibetan Provision 134 which allowed 1,000 Tibetans to resettle in the United States. The Tibetan population is much more politically diverse contrary to the current scholarship of Tibetans which focuses predominantly on Tibetan Buddhism and the Dalai Lama’s Middle Way Approach for Tibet’s future. I believe stories of contention are necessary because it provides a better way to articulate our experiences of living in exile and struggling from Chinese colonial rule.

If you weren’t a scholar, what kind of work do you think you’d be doing?

If I were not a scholar, I’d definitely still be in higher education working with students of color. Starting in middle school, I was a part of a college pipeline program called the PEOPLE Program, that supported first generation, low-income students who earned admission into UW-Madison with a four-year scholarship. The PEOPLE Program profoundly changed my life because I was able to attend college without the financial burden of paying tuition. I also came in with a cohort of students whom I knew from the program, so it made the transition to college much easier. I work for the PEOPLE Program during the summertime as an ACT Instructor so I can see myself in that field of work if I was not a scholar.

Karma trekked to the top of Truind hill in Dharamsala, India and got to enjoy the view of Kangra Valley and the Dhauladhar range.

Contingent Magazine believes that history is for everyone, that every way of doing history is worthwhile, and that historians deserve to be paid for their work. Our writers are adjuncts, grad students, K-12 teachers, public historians, and historians working outside of traditional educational and cultural spaces. They are all paid.

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