The author uses a map found by citizens at the end of a two-hundred-page technical document to illustrate the difficult task of navigating the bureaucratic processes and technical archives undertaken by their interlocutors, who strive to collect information to claim reparations around the toxicity that afflicts their communities. The infrastructure of knowledge production on these toxic spaces is designed for experts. Their interlocutors, on the other hand, are self-taught citizens; they learn the technical language of monitoring and reparation in the investigative process.
The image does a great job of illustrating the jargonish and complex nature of the information, reports, and documents citizens need to collect in order to make their demands heard.
This is a great ethnographic artifact. The image reads as a highly techincal rendering of a toxic place, with some reference to geological and logistical features. Your caption adds credence to the sense one gets looking at the map that only a somewhat specialized audience can look at and appreciate the data in this map. "Who is doing whose job," you ask, and I wonder, who is actually reading this map, and the footnotes and glossary and appendices buried in the prohibitively long report you describe? Does this map actually become an actionable artifact for the citizen scientists in your fieldsite?