Ethnic Identity
In-between spaces. An autoethnographic exploration of migration and identity.
Maxim Bulanov, doctoral student
Victor Turner’s work on liminality, multivocality, and communitas provides a powerful lens through which we can examine personal and cultural transitions, especially those marked by migration and identity transformation. In The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (Turner, 1969), Turner introduced the concept of liminality, describing it as a transitional state during rites of passage where an individual is neither part of their old structure nor fully integrated into a new one. This “in-between” space is filled with ambiguity, disorientation, and transformation. It is not simply a stage but a process — one that reshapes identity, relationships, and belonging.
Closely linked to liminality are the concepts of multivocality and communitas. Multivocality refers to symbols or rituals that hold multiple, often contradictory, meanings depending on context and perspective. In migration narratives, acts like saying goodbyes or crossing borders can simultaneously symbolize loss, renewal, and transformation. Turner’s communitas, on the other hand, reflects the spontaneous bonds that form between individuals undergoing similar transitional experiences, fostering a sense of solidarity despite external differences.
Autoethnography, as defined by Alatrash (2018) complements Turner’s theoretical framework by centering lived experiences and personal narratives as valid forms of knowledge. As a method, autoethnography combines autobiography with ethnographic analysis, allowing writers to critically reflect on their own experiences while situating them within broader cultural and social contexts (Ellis, Adams, & Bochner, 2011 cited in Alatrash, 2018). This approach enables me to explore my migration journey through both personal reflection and theoretical insight, drawing connections between my individual transformation and collective phenomena such as national imaginaries, affective labor, and cultural belonging.
In this essay, I use Turner’s concepts of liminality, multivocality, and communitas to analyze my journey from Russia to the United States — a journey shaped by symbolic actions, affective labor, and moments of connection and contradiction. Through autoethnography, I reflect on the rituals and tensions of leaving, transitioning, and reintegrating, revealing how migration is both a personal and cultural performance of identity, belonging, and resistance.
In this essay, I use Turner’s concepts of liminality, multivocality, and communitas to analyze my journey from Russia to the United States — a journey shaped by symbolic actions, affective labor, and moments of connection and contradiction. Through autoethnography, I reflect on the rituals and tensions of leaving, transitioning, and reintegrating, revealing how migration is both a personal and cultural performance of identity, belonging, and resistance.
I came to the United States in 2022 to start my job at university. I remember that long and emotional journey that brought me to this country. First, of course, it was the decision to leave Russia. After spending 33 years in my home country, the idea of moving somewhere new seemed unreal and insane. Looking around at my friends who have already relocated or were preparing to, I felt inspired, but also confused. Is this really my own decision, my own necessity to leave, or I am just following the trend? I knew one thing for sure — this was the right time to do something to my life, that I wanted to do since I was 10 years old — to try it out there. A decision isn’t made in one moment — a decision is a practice. So, I started acting. Collecting the documents, arranging the meeting with the American council, looking for the money to travel to get vaccinated and to get to Serbia for my visa and then to Indianapolis, selling my valuables, my books, my collection of vintage clothes, seeing my friends, saying goodbyes.
For example, American COVID-19 vaccines aren’t approved in Russia, and Russian vaccines aren’t approved in the United States. My body was the reason for my ineligibility to cross the border. To do this transnational move I needed to get vaccinated with an American shot. It seems so symbolic now. I needed to have something American inside of me to be able to come to the Land of Freedom.
I wonder, how Victor Turner would analyze this experience. He built a theory around the concepts of liminality, communitas, and multivocality (Turner, 1969). My decision to leave Russia marked the start of a liminal phase, where my identity as a Russian resident began to dissolve. My uncertainty — whether leaving was my own decision or part of a broader trend — reflects the disorientation and ambiguity characteristic of liminality. The acts of collecting documents, arranging vaccinations, and selling personal belongings symbolize the “rituals” of this liminal space. These actions were necessary to sever ties with my old life and prepare for entry into a new cultural system. This symbolic action of getting vaccinated seems to be an example of multivocality. In the post-COVID world, getting a vaccine is a symbol of self-care and social responsibility that citizens take. For me as an immigrant, getting vaccinated became a guarantee that the new state would welcome me at the border. And wasn’t the only one — some of my friends, who moved abroad were facing the same problems of getting European or Asian vaccines. For others, it could signify alignment with Western (or out-of-Russian) ideals or rejection of Russian systems. The vaccine story encapsulates the liminal process: my body itself became the site of transition, where an “American” element was required for me to cross the border. This transformation echoes the symbolic power of rituals Turner often described. The vaccine serves as a multivocal symbol.
For example, American COVID-19 vaccines aren’t approved in Russia, and Russian vaccines aren’t approved in the United States. My body was the reason for my ineligibility to cross the border. To do this transnational move I needed to get vaccinated with an American shot. It seems so symbolic now. I needed to have something American inside of me to be able to come to the Land of Freedom.
I wonder, how Victor Turner would analyze this experience. He built a theory around the concepts of liminality, communitas, and multivocality (Turner, 1969). My decision to leave Russia marked the start of a liminal phase, where my identity as a Russian resident began to dissolve. My uncertainty — whether leaving was my own decision or part of a broader trend — reflects the disorientation and ambiguity characteristic of liminality. The acts of collecting documents, arranging vaccinations, and selling personal belongings symbolize the “rituals” of this liminal space. These actions were necessary to sever ties with my old life and prepare for entry into a new cultural system. This symbolic action of getting vaccinated seems to be an example of multivocality. In the post-COVID world, getting a vaccine is a symbol of self-care and social responsibility that citizens take. For me as an immigrant, getting vaccinated became a guarantee that the new state would welcome me at the border. And wasn’t the only one — some of my friends, who moved abroad were facing the same problems of getting European or Asian vaccines. For others, it could signify alignment with Western (or out-of-Russian) ideals or rejection of Russian systems. The vaccine story encapsulates the liminal process: my body itself became the site of transition, where an “American” element was required for me to cross the border. This transformation echoes the symbolic power of rituals Turner often described. The vaccine serves as a multivocal symbol.
When I arranged the goodbye dinner, I expected it to be a celebration of a fresh start, of an adventure, an achievement. It seemed to be more like a mourning dinner, everybody seemed sad and quiet. I could see in my friends’ eyes they were already missing me. I saw the uncertainty — will we ever meet again, when, where? My expectation of a celebration contrasts with the mourning tone of the gathering. The dinner became a multivocal event: for me, it was a ritual marking a new beginning, but for my friends, it symbolized loss and uncertainty.
I remember the first time I told my father, that I got a job and leaving. That night we were having dinner, and he was bragging about the politics, discussing the Russian military operation in Ukraine. As an ex-military, he supports the Russian government and believes in the idea of the Evil West. Usually, we would’ve gotten into quarrels, but I let him do his thing. I had my tea to spill. I said, Dad, I have got a job in Indiana, and I am leaving in two months. He went silent for a moment, smiled, and said, I am happy for you. His wife was happy too, you were dreaming of the USA so badly, and now this is going to happen. It is meant to be. I was surprised — how is it possible to believe in government propaganda but still be happy that your very own son is going to live in the Evil West? He said, your life will be better there. So, they know. After all this state rhetoric they still know the truth, they feel, that life won’t get better in Russia. My father’s and his wife’s acknowledgment of my dreams represents a form of communitas, a bittersweet one. Despite ideological differences, my family’s support bridged political divides and underscored the emotional ties that transcend national narratives.
My father’s reaction highlights the fragmented nature of national imaginaries, as discussed by Askew (2002). National imaginaries refer to the complex, layered, and dynamic ideologies that shape a nation’s identity. These are constructed and continuously redefined through shared cultural practices, performances, and representations, enabling collective belonging while also delineating boundaries between “self” and “other.” While publicly adhering to the Russian state’s ideological narrative, his private acknowledgment of better opportunities abroad reveals the contradictions inherent in national rhetoric and its impact on personal relationships.
Turner emphasized the importance of symbolic actions in rites of passage. Many moments in my narrative take on symbolic significance. Letting go of my books and vintage clothes symbolizes not only material detachment but also a shedding of my old identity to make space for a new one. The act of saying farewell to friends and family serves as a ritual to mark the end of one phase of my life and prepare me for the unknown future. Preparing for my departure involved significant affective labor, as studied by Ugarte (2022).
I managed not only logistical tasks but also the emotional dynamics of leaving loved ones, exemplified in my restraint during my father’s political commentary and my interpretation of his supportive response. Finally, the physical movement from Russia to the U.S. is a literal and symbolic crossing of thresholds, marking the transition from one cultural world to another.
In one of my therapy sessions a year and a half after I moved, my therapist asked me, aren’t you happy with yourself? — Yes, I’m happy, the problem is different. In general, somewhere very deep, I don’t like this life game that I must play. I’m good at playing it, I even win something in it, but if it were possible not to play it, I would stop immediately.
Through my reflections on reintegration, I have come to understand that it is not a neat or linear endpoint but rather a continuous negotiation of identity, performance, and belonging. Victor Turner’s concept of liminality emphasizes the transition between stages, but post-liminal reintegration often introduces new tensions. For me, moving to the United States and adapting to its expectations was a form of crossing a threshold — one that demanded I master a new set of rules and social norms.
Outwardly, I had “successfully reintegrated”: I built a life, achieved milestones, and performed the roles expected of me. Yet, beneath this surface lay a deeper dissonance, a sense of playing a game I neither designed nor wholeheartedly embraced. My therapist’s question — “Aren’t you happy with yourself?” — brought this tension to light. Yes, I am happy, but this happiness feels conditional, tied to my ability to perform and succeed within a system that often feels alien.
Turner’s theory helps articulate this experience. Reintegration does not erase the transformative effects of liminality but instead places the transformed individual into a new structure where contradictions emerge. I am both part of this new life and apart from it, constantly navigating between societal expectations and my inner truth. The life game I play requires affective labor –emotionally performing a version of success — even as part of me resists the rules.
Thus, my reintegration is not a fixed state but a process, a balancing act between adaptation and authenticity. It is a reminder that transformation, while inevitable, is not always seamless. Sometimes, the act of reintegration reveals not just who we have become, but also what parts of ourselves refuse to conform.
Through my reflections on reintegration, I have come to understand that it is not a neat or linear endpoint but rather a continuous negotiation of identity, performance, and belonging. Victor Turner’s concept of liminality emphasizes the transition between stages, but post-liminal reintegration often introduces new tensions. For me, moving to the United States and adapting to its expectations was a form of crossing a threshold — one that demanded I master a new set of rules and social norms.
Outwardly, I had “successfully reintegrated”: I built a life, achieved milestones, and performed the roles expected of me. Yet, beneath this surface lay a deeper dissonance, a sense of playing a game I neither designed nor wholeheartedly embraced. My therapist’s question — “Aren’t you happy with yourself?” — brought this tension to light. Yes, I am happy, but this happiness feels conditional, tied to my ability to perform and succeed within a system that often feels alien.
Turner’s theory helps articulate this experience. Reintegration does not erase the transformative effects of liminality but instead places the transformed individual into a new structure where contradictions emerge. I am both part of this new life and apart from it, constantly navigating between societal expectations and my inner truth. The life game I play requires affective labor –emotionally performing a version of success — even as part of me resists the rules.
Thus, my reintegration is not a fixed state but a process, a balancing act between adaptation and authenticity. It is a reminder that transformation, while inevitable, is not always seamless. Sometimes, the act of reintegration reveals not just who we have become, but also what parts of ourselves refuse to conform.
References
Alatrash, Ghada. 2018. “On Understanding the Experience of Syrian Refugees Through an Autoethnographic Lens.” Canadian Ethnic Studies 50 (3): 131–43. https://doi.org/10.1353/ces.2018.0026.
Askew, Kelly. 2002. Performing the Nation: Swahili Music and Cultural Politics in Tanzania. Chicago Studies in Ethnomusicology. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3637399.html.
Turner, Victor. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Chicago: Aldine Publishing, 1969.
Ugarte, Sofía. 2022. “Skilling Race: Affective Labor and ‘White’ Pedagogies in the Chilean Service Economy.” American Anthropologist 124 (3): 536–47. https://doi.org/10.1111/aman.13759.
Alatrash, Ghada. 2018. “On Understanding the Experience of Syrian Refugees Through an Autoethnographic Lens.” Canadian Ethnic Studies 50 (3): 131–43. https://doi.org/10.1353/ces.2018.0026.
Askew, Kelly. 2002. Performing the Nation: Swahili Music and Cultural Politics in Tanzania. Chicago Studies in Ethnomusicology. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/P/bo3637399.html.
Turner, Victor. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Chicago: Aldine Publishing, 1969.
Ugarte, Sofía. 2022. “Skilling Race: Affective Labor and ‘White’ Pedagogies in the Chilean Service Economy.” American Anthropologist 124 (3): 536–47. https://doi.org/10.1111/aman.13759.
