There is an article in the New York Times Sunday edition entitled, "Race Remixed: Black? White? Asian? More Young Americans Chose All of the Above." The journalist interviewed several members of University of Maryland's Multiracial and Biracial Student Association on their choice to identify as mixed race and on the prevalence of others, especially younger Americans, having the freedom to identify as multi- rather than mono-racial.
And if you are a regular reader of this blog, the article is not going to come as a surprise; rather, it will be affirmation of something that you and I have known for quite some time. That the U.S. is (and has always been) a multiracial space. I suppose what seems new is the freedom with which people are choosing to identify as mixed race. That the idea that one must only choose a singular race out of loyalty or social stigma or ethnic nationalism no longer rules the day.
However, the academic in me can't help but think about these choices occurring in the backdrop of a university setting. In other words, do mixed-race people feel as much choice as to how they identify if they are living in mono-racial areas where there may be a stigma to identifying as mixed-race or perhaps more accurately, to not identify within a particular racial or ethnic sphere would mean having charges of being a "sell out" or "acting white" leaving one in a socially vulnerable position--and would this also be exacerbated by one's other, potentially minoritizing, identities, like being gay/lesbian/bisexual/non-Christian/atheist/other-abled/working-class/poor?
I'm not trying to take away from the Times piece nor from the community and identities that the mixed race college students of University of Maryland are forging as a shared collectivity of "others" who reject one-drop rule prescriptions of who they should be and how they should identify. And I think the piece was good to remind us that the idea of a mixed race American or multiracial people does not spell an end to racism or racial divisions--being multi-racial does not mean that one transcends race or has racism licked. Being multiracial becomes another identity that people are free to choose in the 21st century. I guess I just want to remind us that our ability to choose is never as simple as making the choice--that it is often constrained by other factors.
Anyway, let me just end with two other pieces from the article. First, this interactive family tree--you can see (and hear) Lou Diamond Phillips (that's right, of La Bamba fame!) describe his mixed race family tree and you can develop one of your own (click here) and finally there's this video essay about this new generation of mixed race Americans:
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
I'm glad I have a Chinese Mom
There's been a lot of hubbub in the mainstream media and in the blogosphere about the Wall Street Journal article that came out about a week ago. If the title of my post isn't a tip off, then let me give you the link here and tell you the title: "Why Chinese Mothers are Superior" by Yale Law School professor, Amy Chua. This essay is, apparently, an amalgamation from various parts of Chua's latest book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, with the very log subtitle -- which you can read on the book jacket below:
Various friends and family members have sent me the link to the original WSJ essay and have asked my opinion about the whole fracas. I've seen New York Times pieces decrying Chua and her style of parenting (including this thoughtful piece by David Brooks--a commentator I don't normally agree with), comments in various forums that call Chua's mothering child abuse. I've seen Chua interviewed on CNN and other news outlets telling us that she's received death threats and that the piece in the WSJ didn't accurately represent the book and her perspective--that it was never meant to be a handbook or an ethnic nationalist treatise; rather, it was a memoir about the trials and tribulations of her parenting, particularly the conflicts she faced with her younger daughter. I've read blog posts by Asian American women recounting the trauma of their own childhood experiences with a Chinese (or Asian) parent and two very thoughtful pieces by erin Khue Ninh (lit professor at my alma mater) and Jeff Yang (SF Chronicle) about the fallout in the Asian American community on Amy Chua.
So what do I think about Chua, specifically about her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and whether the WSJ piece accurately reflected her parenting ideology?
The first disclaimer is that I haven't read the book, and I'm not sure that I'll get around to reading it anytime soon. I do think that she was mis-represented in the WSJ piece--that they crafted an essay that was designed to provoke and push buttons (and boy did it!). However, I also think that in a million years I wouldn't parent the way Chua parents. Mostly because I don't think that training your kids to be #1 is necessarily a path to happiness. Greatness, sure--but I value happiness over greatness. Yet I also agree with parts of the WSJ article that there does seem to be a sense of entitlement and indulgence in certain kids and you have to wonder if this is a result of a laxity in parenting.
[Aside: As one currently child-less, I recognize that any remarks I make about parenting will be potentially discounted right off the bat, but I've been teaching for a while now and this is my opinion about some of the freshman I see coming into the classroom--especially the ones whose parents contact me on behalf of their student to talk about academic issues--which in my line of work is a big NO NO]
So I'm not really going to comment on the book so much as the firestorm that has happened in the wake of the WSJ article. And one thing that strikes me about all of the comments is the disturbing return to Asian invasion rhetoric, one that renders China and all things Chinese as mechanical, robotic, unimaginative, repetitive, in terms suggestive of a horde (or for you Sci-fi fans, the borg) versus American exceptionalism which emphasizes creativity, individuality, and most of all, the pursuit of happiness, as granted to us in our Declaration of Independence. In other words, stereotypes of model minority, Asian Americans as perpetual foreigners, yellow peril, geeky Asian violin players are reinforced in the WSJ piece.
And while my colleague in academia has spoken about the dangers of the WSJ piece and Chua's emphasis on overachievement (even if she has learned a lesson from it) on the Asian immigrant parents who may see her book as an endorsement for strict parenting and excellence and achievement at all costs, what I think is truly sad and insidious about the fallout from Chua are all the Chinese and Chinese American moms, immigrant and American born, who are not the stereotype of the strict Asian parent.
Case in point: my own mother.
My mom (and my Dad) never pushed me to get straight A's. I was allowed and encouraged to go to sleepovers and to have sleepovers at my home. I was allowed and encouraged to pursue extracurricular activities like tennis and badminton and track (and I even dabbled in being a bluebird--but it didn't take). On my own initiative I played the violin for 7 years and piano for 3 years, and my parents didn't complain when I stopped playing both instruments in high school once I became more involved in student body politics. I watched plenty of t.v. (and also read plenty of books, largely fiction), and my parents didn't pressure me to attend an ivy league or tier 1 school or to major in something "practical" or to become an M.D.
In short, what Chua's article and book do is to obscure women like my mother who aren't the stereotype of the Asian mother who insists on excellence at all costs and who creates pressure-cooker tension in the home for her children. My mother never berated or insulted me--never threw homemade birthday cards back at me--she allowed me to make my own decisions and choices while still giving me structure and guidance.
Did we fight? Of course! Was it a perfect mother-daughter relationship? No way! But my mother is certainly a strong-willed woman who helped me become a strong-willed woman -- and she did this through a combination of structure and trust. So I just want everyone to remember that not all of us had overly strict Chinese mothers who made our lives miserable and forced us into doing things we didn't want to do for the same of excellence. I, for one, am very glad and very proud of the Chinese American Mom who raised me and who instilled in me a desire to succeed not by pushing me but by loving me unconditionally.
Various friends and family members have sent me the link to the original WSJ essay and have asked my opinion about the whole fracas. I've seen New York Times pieces decrying Chua and her style of parenting (including this thoughtful piece by David Brooks--a commentator I don't normally agree with), comments in various forums that call Chua's mothering child abuse. I've seen Chua interviewed on CNN and other news outlets telling us that she's received death threats and that the piece in the WSJ didn't accurately represent the book and her perspective--that it was never meant to be a handbook or an ethnic nationalist treatise; rather, it was a memoir about the trials and tribulations of her parenting, particularly the conflicts she faced with her younger daughter. I've read blog posts by Asian American women recounting the trauma of their own childhood experiences with a Chinese (or Asian) parent and two very thoughtful pieces by erin Khue Ninh (lit professor at my alma mater) and Jeff Yang (SF Chronicle) about the fallout in the Asian American community on Amy Chua.
So what do I think about Chua, specifically about her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother and whether the WSJ piece accurately reflected her parenting ideology?
The first disclaimer is that I haven't read the book, and I'm not sure that I'll get around to reading it anytime soon. I do think that she was mis-represented in the WSJ piece--that they crafted an essay that was designed to provoke and push buttons (and boy did it!). However, I also think that in a million years I wouldn't parent the way Chua parents. Mostly because I don't think that training your kids to be #1 is necessarily a path to happiness. Greatness, sure--but I value happiness over greatness. Yet I also agree with parts of the WSJ article that there does seem to be a sense of entitlement and indulgence in certain kids and you have to wonder if this is a result of a laxity in parenting.
[Aside: As one currently child-less, I recognize that any remarks I make about parenting will be potentially discounted right off the bat, but I've been teaching for a while now and this is my opinion about some of the freshman I see coming into the classroom--especially the ones whose parents contact me on behalf of their student to talk about academic issues--which in my line of work is a big NO NO]
So I'm not really going to comment on the book so much as the firestorm that has happened in the wake of the WSJ article. And one thing that strikes me about all of the comments is the disturbing return to Asian invasion rhetoric, one that renders China and all things Chinese as mechanical, robotic, unimaginative, repetitive, in terms suggestive of a horde (or for you Sci-fi fans, the borg) versus American exceptionalism which emphasizes creativity, individuality, and most of all, the pursuit of happiness, as granted to us in our Declaration of Independence. In other words, stereotypes of model minority, Asian Americans as perpetual foreigners, yellow peril, geeky Asian violin players are reinforced in the WSJ piece.
And while my colleague in academia has spoken about the dangers of the WSJ piece and Chua's emphasis on overachievement (even if she has learned a lesson from it) on the Asian immigrant parents who may see her book as an endorsement for strict parenting and excellence and achievement at all costs, what I think is truly sad and insidious about the fallout from Chua are all the Chinese and Chinese American moms, immigrant and American born, who are not the stereotype of the strict Asian parent.
Case in point: my own mother.
My mom (and my Dad) never pushed me to get straight A's. I was allowed and encouraged to go to sleepovers and to have sleepovers at my home. I was allowed and encouraged to pursue extracurricular activities like tennis and badminton and track (and I even dabbled in being a bluebird--but it didn't take). On my own initiative I played the violin for 7 years and piano for 3 years, and my parents didn't complain when I stopped playing both instruments in high school once I became more involved in student body politics. I watched plenty of t.v. (and also read plenty of books, largely fiction), and my parents didn't pressure me to attend an ivy league or tier 1 school or to major in something "practical" or to become an M.D.
In short, what Chua's article and book do is to obscure women like my mother who aren't the stereotype of the Asian mother who insists on excellence at all costs and who creates pressure-cooker tension in the home for her children. My mother never berated or insulted me--never threw homemade birthday cards back at me--she allowed me to make my own decisions and choices while still giving me structure and guidance.
Did we fight? Of course! Was it a perfect mother-daughter relationship? No way! But my mother is certainly a strong-willed woman who helped me become a strong-willed woman -- and she did this through a combination of structure and trust. So I just want everyone to remember that not all of us had overly strict Chinese mothers who made our lives miserable and forced us into doing things we didn't want to do for the same of excellence. I, for one, am very glad and very proud of the Chinese American Mom who raised me and who instilled in me a desire to succeed not by pushing me but by loving me unconditionally.
Friday, January 14, 2011
T.G.I.F. -- a Mixed Race America
By now we have all heard about what unfolded in Tucson, AZ--the horror of the mass shooting, the grief and mourning, private and public. And we've also heard a lot of finger pointing--charges of amped up rhetoric, and irony of ironies, people who use amped up rhetoric as a defensive maneuver to say that they aren't using amped up rhetoric (we all know I'm talking about Sarah Palin here, right?).
I've thought a lot about what I wanted to write, with respect to the shootings in Tucson, the rhetoric that has emerged, the politics that are being played out. And then I watched the memorial service this past Wednesday, and I was really struck by the words of Daniel Hernandez, the 20-year old intern who is credited with helping to save Rep. Gabrielle Gifford's life. In his remarks at the memorial, which were amazingly poised and articulate given his relative youth, the size/scope of the venue, and the emotion of the service.
[I mean, can you imagine yourself at twenty standing in front of a podium facing 14,000 people, countless cameras, and with the President of the United States sitting front and center?]
Hernandez rejected, humbly and respectfully, the title of hero, instead calling the public/civil servants and first responders and medical staff of the hospital the real heroes in this event.
And what I was struck by, as they panned the crowd to show Rep. Gifford's surgeon, Dr. Peter Rhee, was how important a mixed-race America is to the cit of Tucson. Gifford's is Jewish. Hernandez is Latino. Rhee is Asian American. The six victims who died were Caucasian.
[Note: I'm assuming this based on their photos, but truthfully I don't know how any of them identified or whether some of them may have been Jewish or mixed race in ways that aren't apparent using only ocular evidence]
Arizona, as Sheriff Clarence Dupnik noted, has been a flashpoint for debates about immigration and ethnic studies--a state in which bigotry and prejudice have become so clearly institutionalized through anti-immigration measures (and rhetoric) and anti-Ethnic Studies measures. The not only tacit but clear white supremacist values that these measures promote make Arizona seem like it's this bastion of intolerance.
But then you have Daniel Hernandez. And you have Gabrielle Giffords. And the members of her synagogue. And you have Peter Rhee. All visions of a mixed race Arizona. A mixed race America. And thank goodness that we do.
I was going to give Daniel Hernandez the T.G.I.F. (The Great Impossible Feat Award) solo--because he certainly deserves it, despite what he says about not being a hero.
[Aside: He was one of the first responders on the scene--he was THE first responder, in fact, and while it's impossible to say for certain, I believe that had he not rushed to her aid immediately and had the presence of mind (and the skills of his nursing assistance class) to staunch her wound and keep her calm, then I don't think she'd be making the progress that she is currently making. He really is a remarkable young man--Time magazine did a piece on him (click here) and among the other things about Daniel that have not been reported on since it's not the most important things to note about him in light of his actions of the past week, is that he is a politically active, gay, Latino man. Yet these markers of identity--being politically active (he volunteered on the Clinton 2008 campaign and then for Gifford's re-election campaign after Clinton dropped out), being gay and being Latino are important for the world to recognize not only because it's part of who he is, but it's a reminder, in the midst of all the polemical debates about gay marriage, about queer rights, about Ethnic Studies and the importance of Chicano/Latino history in Arizona, that Daniel Hernandez's very existence is a refutation to the arguments of sealing borders and teaching white-washed and sanitized versions of history and not recognizing the rights of queer people everywhere.]
But I think since Daniel doesn't want to be singled out as a hero, that what we should be grateful for, what shouldn't seem impossible but sometimes is, is the fact that we live in a mixed race America.
Thank goodness we live in a mixed race America. Thank goodness for people like Daniel Hernandez. And thank goodness for organizations like Ben's Bells--a non-profit in Tucson whose message and purpose is to spread kindness to strangers. Click here on the link to find out more about what they do and watch this piece from the New York Times:
I've thought a lot about what I wanted to write, with respect to the shootings in Tucson, the rhetoric that has emerged, the politics that are being played out. And then I watched the memorial service this past Wednesday, and I was really struck by the words of Daniel Hernandez, the 20-year old intern who is credited with helping to save Rep. Gabrielle Gifford's life. In his remarks at the memorial, which were amazingly poised and articulate given his relative youth, the size/scope of the venue, and the emotion of the service.
[I mean, can you imagine yourself at twenty standing in front of a podium facing 14,000 people, countless cameras, and with the President of the United States sitting front and center?]
Hernandez rejected, humbly and respectfully, the title of hero, instead calling the public/civil servants and first responders and medical staff of the hospital the real heroes in this event.
And what I was struck by, as they panned the crowd to show Rep. Gifford's surgeon, Dr. Peter Rhee, was how important a mixed-race America is to the cit of Tucson. Gifford's is Jewish. Hernandez is Latino. Rhee is Asian American. The six victims who died were Caucasian.
[Note: I'm assuming this based on their photos, but truthfully I don't know how any of them identified or whether some of them may have been Jewish or mixed race in ways that aren't apparent using only ocular evidence]
Arizona, as Sheriff Clarence Dupnik noted, has been a flashpoint for debates about immigration and ethnic studies--a state in which bigotry and prejudice have become so clearly institutionalized through anti-immigration measures (and rhetoric) and anti-Ethnic Studies measures. The not only tacit but clear white supremacist values that these measures promote make Arizona seem like it's this bastion of intolerance.
But then you have Daniel Hernandez. And you have Gabrielle Giffords. And the members of her synagogue. And you have Peter Rhee. All visions of a mixed race Arizona. A mixed race America. And thank goodness that we do.
I was going to give Daniel Hernandez the T.G.I.F. (The Great Impossible Feat Award) solo--because he certainly deserves it, despite what he says about not being a hero.
[Aside: He was one of the first responders on the scene--he was THE first responder, in fact, and while it's impossible to say for certain, I believe that had he not rushed to her aid immediately and had the presence of mind (and the skills of his nursing assistance class) to staunch her wound and keep her calm, then I don't think she'd be making the progress that she is currently making. He really is a remarkable young man--Time magazine did a piece on him (click here) and among the other things about Daniel that have not been reported on since it's not the most important things to note about him in light of his actions of the past week, is that he is a politically active, gay, Latino man. Yet these markers of identity--being politically active (he volunteered on the Clinton 2008 campaign and then for Gifford's re-election campaign after Clinton dropped out), being gay and being Latino are important for the world to recognize not only because it's part of who he is, but it's a reminder, in the midst of all the polemical debates about gay marriage, about queer rights, about Ethnic Studies and the importance of Chicano/Latino history in Arizona, that Daniel Hernandez's very existence is a refutation to the arguments of sealing borders and teaching white-washed and sanitized versions of history and not recognizing the rights of queer people everywhere.]
But I think since Daniel doesn't want to be singled out as a hero, that what we should be grateful for, what shouldn't seem impossible but sometimes is, is the fact that we live in a mixed race America.
Thank goodness we live in a mixed race America. Thank goodness for people like Daniel Hernandez. And thank goodness for organizations like Ben's Bells--a non-profit in Tucson whose message and purpose is to spread kindness to strangers. Click here on the link to find out more about what they do and watch this piece from the New York Times:
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Changing words . . . charged words
I'm an English professor who blogs, so it's not going to come as a surprise to read that I believe words matter A LOT. Words allow us to voice and describe our experiences--words allow us to shape and name experiences. Words, quite literally, have helped us to survive. And as someone who respects the written word, especially the published written word in book form, I take seriously anyone who wants to change or amend or (GASP) should dare plagiarize anyone else's words.
So this morning when I opened my email, I found an article sent to me by a family member, "G" about a scholar who is releasing versions of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer in which the word "nigger" is replaced by the word "slave" and in which "Injun Joe" is not "Indian Joe" and "half-breed" is now referred to as "half-blood."
In other words, potentially racially offensive epithets/slurs have been taken out and replaced with more benign versions.
Can everyone hear Mark Twain rolling over in his grave?
The scholar in question, Alan Gribben, believes that by taking out charged words, especially THE charged word, "nigger," readers (and school districts/teachers/professors) will be more likely to teach these particular Twain works to their students. After all, Huck Finn is one of the most widely banned books in the country, because of its invocation (219 times) of the word "nigger."
Gribbens move, while seemingly well intentioned, seems absolutely wrong-headed. First, I don't think you should ever edit someone else's writing without their permission, and since Twain is dead, we should let well enough alone. Second, I think it's possible to teach Huck Finn and have a discussion of the overuse of the word "nigger" and what Twain may have been doing by having his title character evoke this epithet again and again--in other words, Huck using this word has everything to do with his class status, his regional location, and not necessarily with his attitude about black slaves or African Americans. Third, if we don't read Huck Finn anymore, the world will continue turning on its access--I am not someone who believes in preserving the "canon" of American literature--so making a more "user-friendly" version of Huck Finn just to get people to read it seems ... stupid. Do I think it's great literature? Maybe. Am I glad I read it? I needed to read it as someone who studies American literature. Can students read other works of American literature, ones that deal with slavery and the South without having the word "nigger" appear? Sure...but understanding this charged word in context--understanding the nature of racial slurs, and the extremely provocative and violent nature of this particular racist epithet, would be very educational.
Finally, I've deliberately NOT referred to the "N" word in this blog post--which I know is a controversial thing to do and something that I'm trying to sort out with how I feel about offensive language/phrases and my own usage. In general, my stance as a teacher has been to talk about the slur in context--and to explain to students that when it appears in the text, it is not meant to offend them but that we need to understand the racial climate in which the word appears. When John Steinbeck writes about "Chinks" and "Chinamen" or other authors invoke phrases like "wet back" or "half breed" or "fag"-- they may or may not reflect the attitude of the author but they definitely convey information about the character who is voicing those slurs. And within the context of the story, that is important. It also tells us something about the social attitudes and cultural milieu of the setting of the work.
But the word "nigger"--IS the "N" word--and what I mean by that is, it's not like the other slurs I just listed above. There is no other equivalent. Not even a word I absolutely hate, "cunt," comes close to the level of linguistic violence that I think the word "nigger" does. No other slur has also had such a varied and controversial current usage--popping up frequently in the lyrics of African American hip hop and rap artists, used by black comedians, and invoked, colloquially, among African Americans in terms of affection and familiarity. If you do a google search, you will come across a very disturbing array of links (I didn't click on any of them--they were too scary) to jokes--which I think is very telling because jokes are one of the insidious ways in which we, as a culture, can keep people under surveillance. No one wants to be the butt of a joke--to be made fun of--to be laughed at. And this word in particular has been invoked, very specifically, by white Americans to target black Americans. Randall Kennedy, a Harvard law professor, has written a book detailing the history of this word, and you can click here on an insightful review of it and the slur.
So should we retire the word? Should we only refer to "nigger" as the "N" word? Does even reading the word in the context of this blog post seem too jarring, too upsetting, too violent? I certainly think that it should never be used as a racial slur. I also believe that as someone who has never had to endure the pain of being called this particular racial epithet, I can't speak to the psychic damage of hearing it or seeing it in print, and the potentially recuperative power of using it as an in-group expression of solidarity. But I also wonder about masking the word by saying "N" word in its place. As someone who believes in being honest in language, saying "N" word seems to give it a power that I don't want the word to have anymore.
But let me end with this bit of stand up by Danny Glover, who does have some opinions about who should and should not ever use this word:
So this morning when I opened my email, I found an article sent to me by a family member, "G" about a scholar who is releasing versions of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer in which the word "nigger" is replaced by the word "slave" and in which "Injun Joe" is not "Indian Joe" and "half-breed" is now referred to as "half-blood."
In other words, potentially racially offensive epithets/slurs have been taken out and replaced with more benign versions.
Can everyone hear Mark Twain rolling over in his grave?
The scholar in question, Alan Gribben, believes that by taking out charged words, especially THE charged word, "nigger," readers (and school districts/teachers/professors) will be more likely to teach these particular Twain works to their students. After all, Huck Finn is one of the most widely banned books in the country, because of its invocation (219 times) of the word "nigger."
Gribbens move, while seemingly well intentioned, seems absolutely wrong-headed. First, I don't think you should ever edit someone else's writing without their permission, and since Twain is dead, we should let well enough alone. Second, I think it's possible to teach Huck Finn and have a discussion of the overuse of the word "nigger" and what Twain may have been doing by having his title character evoke this epithet again and again--in other words, Huck using this word has everything to do with his class status, his regional location, and not necessarily with his attitude about black slaves or African Americans. Third, if we don't read Huck Finn anymore, the world will continue turning on its access--I am not someone who believes in preserving the "canon" of American literature--so making a more "user-friendly" version of Huck Finn just to get people to read it seems ... stupid. Do I think it's great literature? Maybe. Am I glad I read it? I needed to read it as someone who studies American literature. Can students read other works of American literature, ones that deal with slavery and the South without having the word "nigger" appear? Sure...but understanding this charged word in context--understanding the nature of racial slurs, and the extremely provocative and violent nature of this particular racist epithet, would be very educational.
Finally, I've deliberately NOT referred to the "N" word in this blog post--which I know is a controversial thing to do and something that I'm trying to sort out with how I feel about offensive language/phrases and my own usage. In general, my stance as a teacher has been to talk about the slur in context--and to explain to students that when it appears in the text, it is not meant to offend them but that we need to understand the racial climate in which the word appears. When John Steinbeck writes about "Chinks" and "Chinamen" or other authors invoke phrases like "wet back" or "half breed" or "fag"-- they may or may not reflect the attitude of the author but they definitely convey information about the character who is voicing those slurs. And within the context of the story, that is important. It also tells us something about the social attitudes and cultural milieu of the setting of the work.
But the word "nigger"--IS the "N" word--and what I mean by that is, it's not like the other slurs I just listed above. There is no other equivalent. Not even a word I absolutely hate, "cunt," comes close to the level of linguistic violence that I think the word "nigger" does. No other slur has also had such a varied and controversial current usage--popping up frequently in the lyrics of African American hip hop and rap artists, used by black comedians, and invoked, colloquially, among African Americans in terms of affection and familiarity. If you do a google search, you will come across a very disturbing array of links (I didn't click on any of them--they were too scary) to jokes--which I think is very telling because jokes are one of the insidious ways in which we, as a culture, can keep people under surveillance. No one wants to be the butt of a joke--to be made fun of--to be laughed at. And this word in particular has been invoked, very specifically, by white Americans to target black Americans. Randall Kennedy, a Harvard law professor, has written a book detailing the history of this word, and you can click here on an insightful review of it and the slur.
So should we retire the word? Should we only refer to "nigger" as the "N" word? Does even reading the word in the context of this blog post seem too jarring, too upsetting, too violent? I certainly think that it should never be used as a racial slur. I also believe that as someone who has never had to endure the pain of being called this particular racial epithet, I can't speak to the psychic damage of hearing it or seeing it in print, and the potentially recuperative power of using it as an in-group expression of solidarity. But I also wonder about masking the word by saying "N" word in its place. As someone who believes in being honest in language, saying "N" word seems to give it a power that I don't want the word to have anymore.
But let me end with this bit of stand up by Danny Glover, who does have some opinions about who should and should not ever use this word:
| Jokes.com | ||||
| Donald Glover - Can't Say It | ||||
| ||||
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New Year's Resolutions
I know I've been an intermittent blogger since April 2010 when I received my cancer diagnosis. In that time I've gone through chemotherapy, surgery, and physical rehabilitation--and lots of time in doctor's offices (and lots more time in waiting rooms).
In two weeks I will be back in the classroom teaching, and I'm excited about being back on campus and getting back into a routine. I'm also determined to get back on a work schedule--which includes more regular blogging in this space. Because I have things to say, observations to make, conversations I hope to have in the comments section on this blog.
So here's what I resolve for 2011:
*To blog at least once a week--even if that post is simply to be a series of links to other blogs or articles. After all, linking to things others are saying/thinking about is just as important as trying to voice my own thoughts in this space.
*To finish a draft of my current book project -- I've got a *very* rough draft of one chapter and need to work on the last chapter.
*To keep exercising. Even if it just means walking for half an hour--but really, I want to train for the 4 mile race I signed up for in April.
Ok, that's it. Pretty simple goals--just 3--so should be achievable.
Happy 2011 everyone--I'm hoping that it's a healthy and happy one for us all!
In two weeks I will be back in the classroom teaching, and I'm excited about being back on campus and getting back into a routine. I'm also determined to get back on a work schedule--which includes more regular blogging in this space. Because I have things to say, observations to make, conversations I hope to have in the comments section on this blog.
So here's what I resolve for 2011:
*To blog at least once a week--even if that post is simply to be a series of links to other blogs or articles. After all, linking to things others are saying/thinking about is just as important as trying to voice my own thoughts in this space.
*To finish a draft of my current book project -- I've got a *very* rough draft of one chapter and need to work on the last chapter.
*To keep exercising. Even if it just means walking for half an hour--but really, I want to train for the 4 mile race I signed up for in April.
Ok, that's it. Pretty simple goals--just 3--so should be achievable.
Happy 2011 everyone--I'm hoping that it's a healthy and happy one for us all!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
150 years of PTSD OR South Carolina's selective historical memory
For regular readers, you know that I've *slowly* been doing a series where I answer questions from students at Private U. about being Asian American (it was from a workshop I did back in November--click here for the original post). But I'm interrupting that series for something very topical in time and to my location, namely, the sesquicentennial (150) celebrations that are being planned (and in one instance, that took place) in commemoration of the Civil War.
Very specifically, 150 years ago yesterday, on Dec. 20, 1860, South Carolina became the first state in the confederacy to secede from the Union, issuing an "Ordinance of Secession" and eventually signing a "Declaration of Secession" and finally issuing a call to other states entitled, "The Address of the people of South Carolina, assembled in Convention, to the people of the Slaveholding States of the United States."
As the last call makes clear, South Carolina saw itself as a slaveholding state, saw its neighbors as slaveholding states, and understood the common cause that it had with other states in the Confederacy as slaveholding entities. In other words, the southern Confederacy broke with the union over states' rights...and that right was the right to OWN SLAVES. South Carolina in particular was upset that the North was not going to return fugitive slaves. Throughout the Ordinance and the Declaration and the Address, there are continuous references to rights of slave owners and slave holding states. This was about the economics, society, and culture of the South...all of which was predicated on African American enslavement. Because we're not just talking about abstract slavery--where anyone could be enslaved so that it became an issue of class--we're talking about a system of racial oppression and hierachy, or literal white supremacy.
Yet for many descendants of ex-Confederate soldiers, it's like there's been generational PTSD passed down over the last 150 years that has caused white Southerners to romanticize the past, to justify the loss of life, and to conveniently forget or overlook the historic reality of exactly WHY the Civil War was fought. And in the case of certain white native South Carolinians--it's a selective amnesia about why and how the ordinance of secession came about. Because in Charleston last night, the Sons of Confederate Veterans held a ball last night, a Secession Gala where 300 guests paid $100/ticket to enjoy a 45 minute theatrical re-enactment of secession, and where table sponsors had the honor of having their picture taken with the original declaration. For the organizers and guests who attended the gala, South Carolina's secession should be celebrated as a way to honor the issue of states' rights and the valor of the confederate soldiers who gave their lives for their state, refusing to see any connection to slavery or asserting that the celebration was not a "racial" issue.
Well, this seems patently absurd. Of COURSE it's racial! Who we decided should be enslaved made it racial. And if the demographics of those at the ball and those who protested the ball are any indication, then YES, it IS a racial issue. I mean, I (obviously) didn't attend the gala, so I can't say, for certain, that everyone who attended was white (but The Guardian can) but I have to say that in the hour that I was outside Gaillard Auditorium (and yes, I'm in Charleston as we speak) I didn't see any people of color enter the auditorium--and the organizers, dressed in period costume, all appeared to be white. Whereas those of us joining in the unity rally and protest of the ball were a mixed group of black, white, and in the case of myself and another woman, Asian American protesters.
[Note: There may have been American Indian and Latino and of course mixed race and multiracial folks in attendance at the protest--but at first glance, the crowd appeared to be largely white and black, especially if you didn't notice that I or the other Asian American woman was there, as this Boston Globe reporter clearly didn't since he only noted the "black and white" protesters in attendance]
I wasn't able to march with the protesters since my energy level is still very low post-chemo and surgery (I've heard it can take a year after chemo to feel "normal" again--sigh), but Southern Man and I were there, clapping and yelling and affirming the various speakers--we were a small part of the hundred folk who had gathered--and we got to see for ourselves the audacity of the sons of Confederate veterans and the guests who showed up in period costume--like the woman in The Guardian photo. When we saw her enter the auditorium I whispered to Southern Man,
"Where do you think she got that hoop skirt? Antebellum R Us?"
I wish I had brought my computer cable with me to upload photos from the protest to my laptop to show you some of the signs and some of the ridiculousness--like a band that played there who call themselves "Unreconstructed," the tag line on their trailer reads: "Keeping memories alive"
Ummm....which ones? I'd say that for the African American descendants of enslaved people, the memories of bondage and servitude and oppression are NOT ones they want to keep alive. And for women, particularly poor women? And for queer folks who were in the closet (as any queer people, black or white had to have been in the closet in the antebellum period--hell, throughout the 19th and most of the 20th century)? Or anyone who wasn't wealthy and white who had political power and wanted to keep their economic interests? What kind of memories do you want to keep alive for anyone who wasn't a wealthy white man or woman?
But let me leave the last word with Larry Wilmore, who notes that it's not just politically correct to say that the Civil War was fought over the issue of slavery, it's CORRECT correct!
Very specifically, 150 years ago yesterday, on Dec. 20, 1860, South Carolina became the first state in the confederacy to secede from the Union, issuing an "Ordinance of Secession" and eventually signing a "Declaration of Secession" and finally issuing a call to other states entitled, "The Address of the people of South Carolina, assembled in Convention, to the people of the Slaveholding States of the United States."
As the last call makes clear, South Carolina saw itself as a slaveholding state, saw its neighbors as slaveholding states, and understood the common cause that it had with other states in the Confederacy as slaveholding entities. In other words, the southern Confederacy broke with the union over states' rights...and that right was the right to OWN SLAVES. South Carolina in particular was upset that the North was not going to return fugitive slaves. Throughout the Ordinance and the Declaration and the Address, there are continuous references to rights of slave owners and slave holding states. This was about the economics, society, and culture of the South...all of which was predicated on African American enslavement. Because we're not just talking about abstract slavery--where anyone could be enslaved so that it became an issue of class--we're talking about a system of racial oppression and hierachy, or literal white supremacy.
Yet for many descendants of ex-Confederate soldiers, it's like there's been generational PTSD passed down over the last 150 years that has caused white Southerners to romanticize the past, to justify the loss of life, and to conveniently forget or overlook the historic reality of exactly WHY the Civil War was fought. And in the case of certain white native South Carolinians--it's a selective amnesia about why and how the ordinance of secession came about. Because in Charleston last night, the Sons of Confederate Veterans held a ball last night, a Secession Gala where 300 guests paid $100/ticket to enjoy a 45 minute theatrical re-enactment of secession, and where table sponsors had the honor of having their picture taken with the original declaration. For the organizers and guests who attended the gala, South Carolina's secession should be celebrated as a way to honor the issue of states' rights and the valor of the confederate soldiers who gave their lives for their state, refusing to see any connection to slavery or asserting that the celebration was not a "racial" issue.
Well, this seems patently absurd. Of COURSE it's racial! Who we decided should be enslaved made it racial. And if the demographics of those at the ball and those who protested the ball are any indication, then YES, it IS a racial issue. I mean, I (obviously) didn't attend the gala, so I can't say, for certain, that everyone who attended was white (but The Guardian can) but I have to say that in the hour that I was outside Gaillard Auditorium (and yes, I'm in Charleston as we speak) I didn't see any people of color enter the auditorium--and the organizers, dressed in period costume, all appeared to be white. Whereas those of us joining in the unity rally and protest of the ball were a mixed group of black, white, and in the case of myself and another woman, Asian American protesters.
[Note: There may have been American Indian and Latino and of course mixed race and multiracial folks in attendance at the protest--but at first glance, the crowd appeared to be largely white and black, especially if you didn't notice that I or the other Asian American woman was there, as this Boston Globe reporter clearly didn't since he only noted the "black and white" protesters in attendance]
I wasn't able to march with the protesters since my energy level is still very low post-chemo and surgery (I've heard it can take a year after chemo to feel "normal" again--sigh), but Southern Man and I were there, clapping and yelling and affirming the various speakers--we were a small part of the hundred folk who had gathered--and we got to see for ourselves the audacity of the sons of Confederate veterans and the guests who showed up in period costume--like the woman in The Guardian photo. When we saw her enter the auditorium I whispered to Southern Man,
"Where do you think she got that hoop skirt? Antebellum R Us?"
I wish I had brought my computer cable with me to upload photos from the protest to my laptop to show you some of the signs and some of the ridiculousness--like a band that played there who call themselves "Unreconstructed," the tag line on their trailer reads: "Keeping memories alive"
Ummm....which ones? I'd say that for the African American descendants of enslaved people, the memories of bondage and servitude and oppression are NOT ones they want to keep alive. And for women, particularly poor women? And for queer folks who were in the closet (as any queer people, black or white had to have been in the closet in the antebellum period--hell, throughout the 19th and most of the 20th century)? Or anyone who wasn't wealthy and white who had political power and wanted to keep their economic interests? What kind of memories do you want to keep alive for anyone who wasn't a wealthy white man or woman?
But let me leave the last word with Larry Wilmore, who notes that it's not just politically correct to say that the Civil War was fought over the issue of slavery, it's CORRECT correct!
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c | |||
| The South's Secession Commemoration | ||||
| ||||
Saturday, December 11, 2010
More questions about Asians in America -- who are we?
Another set of questions (and my attempted answers) to the excellent questions posed by Private U. students at a workshop I ran a month ago (click here for the original post and set of questions). Here goes!
*How do Asian Americans solve the "perpetual foreigner" problem?
So I'm going to do the teacherly thing and spin the question around a bit--namely, just who is responsible for solving the stereotype of Asian Americans as "perpetual foreigner"? While I'm sure there are Asian Americans who engage in stereotyping of Asian Americans and/or are invested in ethnic self-hatred as a defensive posture or perhaps simply out of ignorance, in my opinion it's mainly non-Asian Americans (largely white Americans, although other minority races do it too) who believe that Asian Americans aren't "real" Americans and are simply this mass of foreign-born, pidgin-speaking, immigrants.
The truth is, there are many Asians in America who were not born and raised here, and who speak English with an Asian accent. But the belief that ALL Asian Americans or Asians in America are foreign have a lot to do with the investment that mainstream America has in perpetuating this stereotype. Some of it is just pure laziness. Some of it is based on yellow peril stereotypes. Much of it, I suspect, has to do with the idea of America being a place, first and foremost, for white Americans -- that it is white Americans who "founded" this nation and white Americans who "count" as "authentic" American -- whose ancestors worked hard to make this a great country.
Now, I don't think most people consciously think the above (at least non-tea party folks), but the idea that everyone but white Americans are generally "hyphenated" or noted as being American-PLUS (as in African American, Native American, Asian American), is a sign of white privilege and a sign of white supremacist thinking (and I don't mean the KKK or men in white sheets, I mean the ways in which our history and society is formed around promoting the history of white Americans, often at the expense of ignoring or marginalizing or silencing the history of non-white Americans--this contributes to white supremacist thinking--and it's not just white people who engage in this, almost every single person in the U.S. is subject to white supremacist thinking--we just can't help it, it's everywhere and you have to actively work to undue years of an ingrained way of thinking about the world--I suppose I should also say that Gramsci would just say this is all hegemony).
So what can Asian Americans do?
We can resist and remind. We can resist white supremacist thinking and educate people and correct them, in whatever way we're comfortable, with anger, humor, self-denigration, condescension, pragmatism, or any other tactic that gets across that the person making a comment/conjecture/observation that perpetuates the stereotype of Asian Americans as foreign is simply wrong and not true. We can be spokespeople for ourselves--by refusing to answer the question "What are you?" or "Where are you from?" by turning it around and asking others "What are you?" or "Where are you from?" For those of us who identify as Americans, we can simply give this as an answer when people ask us for our nationality. We can ask our questioners why they are asking about our race/ethnicity/culture--why do they want to know? And we can turn it around and ask about their race/ethnicity/culture. By doing all of this, we remind others that we are not the compliant Asian subject that they want us to be. We are loud and proud Asian Americans.
*We're in this racial middle as Asian Americans, what do you see as the future for Asian/Americans in the U.S. (politically & socially)?
Hmmmm...very intriguing question. I guess the first thing I'd say is that while the term "racial middle" does resonate and make sense as a descriptor for Asian Americans, it is also perhaps not where we should aspire to be or that we should work against thinking of race in terms of space or hierarchies. There is a temptation to do this--to see Asian Americans as neither black nor white--to be in the middle of a linear scale of racial privilege (on the one end) and racial abjection (on the other).
But I think in terms of thinking of what the place of Asian Americans is in terms of U.S. politics and society...well, I would hope it means increased visibility--which links back to the above question about being a perpetual foreigner. The more Asian Americans take part in civic society--by running for political office or taking on leadership positions in education, business, the military, entertainment--the more visible we can be in American society and thus be recognized as fully enfranchised American citizens.
However, I also think another way of thinking of this question, because of its emphasis on race, is to think how Asian Americans can work with other groups to end social oppression--because it's not just about ending racial oppression, it's understanding how race intersects with gender/sexuality/ability/region/religion/class/education and so many other factors. So it means Asian Americans not just speaking as/for/about Asian Americans but as allies and leaders for other groups that they are either part of or are allies of.
And in this way I think Asian Americans get to contribute like everyone else in making this country to be a nation that is inclusive of all, or in the words of the pledge of allegiance, pre-1954: "one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for ALL."
*How do Asian Americans solve the "perpetual foreigner" problem?
So I'm going to do the teacherly thing and spin the question around a bit--namely, just who is responsible for solving the stereotype of Asian Americans as "perpetual foreigner"? While I'm sure there are Asian Americans who engage in stereotyping of Asian Americans and/or are invested in ethnic self-hatred as a defensive posture or perhaps simply out of ignorance, in my opinion it's mainly non-Asian Americans (largely white Americans, although other minority races do it too) who believe that Asian Americans aren't "real" Americans and are simply this mass of foreign-born, pidgin-speaking, immigrants.
The truth is, there are many Asians in America who were not born and raised here, and who speak English with an Asian accent. But the belief that ALL Asian Americans or Asians in America are foreign have a lot to do with the investment that mainstream America has in perpetuating this stereotype. Some of it is just pure laziness. Some of it is based on yellow peril stereotypes. Much of it, I suspect, has to do with the idea of America being a place, first and foremost, for white Americans -- that it is white Americans who "founded" this nation and white Americans who "count" as "authentic" American -- whose ancestors worked hard to make this a great country.
Now, I don't think most people consciously think the above (at least non-tea party folks), but the idea that everyone but white Americans are generally "hyphenated" or noted as being American-PLUS (as in African American, Native American, Asian American), is a sign of white privilege and a sign of white supremacist thinking (and I don't mean the KKK or men in white sheets, I mean the ways in which our history and society is formed around promoting the history of white Americans, often at the expense of ignoring or marginalizing or silencing the history of non-white Americans--this contributes to white supremacist thinking--and it's not just white people who engage in this, almost every single person in the U.S. is subject to white supremacist thinking--we just can't help it, it's everywhere and you have to actively work to undue years of an ingrained way of thinking about the world--I suppose I should also say that Gramsci would just say this is all hegemony).
So what can Asian Americans do?
We can resist and remind. We can resist white supremacist thinking and educate people and correct them, in whatever way we're comfortable, with anger, humor, self-denigration, condescension, pragmatism, or any other tactic that gets across that the person making a comment/conjecture/observation that perpetuates the stereotype of Asian Americans as foreign is simply wrong and not true. We can be spokespeople for ourselves--by refusing to answer the question "What are you?" or "Where are you from?" by turning it around and asking others "What are you?" or "Where are you from?" For those of us who identify as Americans, we can simply give this as an answer when people ask us for our nationality. We can ask our questioners why they are asking about our race/ethnicity/culture--why do they want to know? And we can turn it around and ask about their race/ethnicity/culture. By doing all of this, we remind others that we are not the compliant Asian subject that they want us to be. We are loud and proud Asian Americans.
*We're in this racial middle as Asian Americans, what do you see as the future for Asian/Americans in the U.S. (politically & socially)?
Hmmmm...very intriguing question. I guess the first thing I'd say is that while the term "racial middle" does resonate and make sense as a descriptor for Asian Americans, it is also perhaps not where we should aspire to be or that we should work against thinking of race in terms of space or hierarchies. There is a temptation to do this--to see Asian Americans as neither black nor white--to be in the middle of a linear scale of racial privilege (on the one end) and racial abjection (on the other).
But I think in terms of thinking of what the place of Asian Americans is in terms of U.S. politics and society...well, I would hope it means increased visibility--which links back to the above question about being a perpetual foreigner. The more Asian Americans take part in civic society--by running for political office or taking on leadership positions in education, business, the military, entertainment--the more visible we can be in American society and thus be recognized as fully enfranchised American citizens.
However, I also think another way of thinking of this question, because of its emphasis on race, is to think how Asian Americans can work with other groups to end social oppression--because it's not just about ending racial oppression, it's understanding how race intersects with gender/sexuality/ability/region/religion/class/education and so many other factors. So it means Asian Americans not just speaking as/for/about Asian Americans but as allies and leaders for other groups that they are either part of or are allies of.
And in this way I think Asian Americans get to contribute like everyone else in making this country to be a nation that is inclusive of all, or in the words of the pledge of allegiance, pre-1954: "one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for ALL."
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Another stab at answering questions about race & Asian Americans
So I'm continuing to answer some questions from some great students I met while doing a workshop on race at Private U. last week. In my previous blog post, I answered 2 questions and now I'm going to tackle another two.
[Note: I hadn't intended on so much of a lag between posts but I came down with a virus and have literally been in bed the last 5 days--ACK! I'm still in bed but I have a bit more energy right now, although my doc told me that my symptoms would probably last for another week--SIGH]
1) How is having "Asian" become another overachieving racial group, like white, different from "Latino/Hispanic" or "Black? being so?
Hmmmm... I think that there are maybe 2 questions being asked (or implied). One is the assumption that Asian Americans are an "overachieving racial group" who are like "whites" (or Caucasian Americans). The second is that Asian Americans and Caucasian Americans, because of their "overachieving" status are different from "Latino/Hispanic" and "black/African American."
So first a word about terminology for newer readers of this blog. I never capitalized or use quotation marks around racial groups (yeah, I know, I just did above, but it was more in quoting from the question) like white and black Americans. And I pretty much use African American and black interchangeably, like I use white and Caucasian interchangeably. I do capitalize references to geographic spaces, hence Asian American. And I also use interchangeably Native American and Indian American (which is capitalized, I know--in general we capitalize those phrases like we capitalize Latino). I should also note that the question didn't ask about American Indians, a notable omission this time of year; unfortunately Native Americans are often left out of the conversation on race because folks think they aren't statistically relevant or they appear to be invisible. And finally I don't use the term "Hispanic"--which is a government word used to describe people whose ancestry is from South America and the Caribbean of Spanish origin. I use the term "Latino," instead, because I think it recognizes the hybridity of influences (beyond Spain) of people who are of Latin American and South American and Caribbean heritage.
OK now on to the question. I guess I'd want to rephrase it--why are Asian Americans and white Americans PERCEIVED as overachieving, and by distinction, why AREN'T African Americans/Latinos (and I'd add American Indians) PERCEIVED as overachieving (and by implication are often believed to be the opposite--lazy/not hard working, not successful).
Because I think it's about perception. The model minority myth that haunts Asian Americans declares that Asians in America are an overachieving "model" minority. But there are several problems with this myth. First, all stereotypes are damaging, in my opinion, because they are 2-dimensional portraits of people. Second, it's not true--not all Asian Americans are uber-smart/throwing off the Econ curve/science nerds. I, myself, squeaked by with a B- in pre-Calculus (and that was my last math class in high school--I took stats in college). I we WERE this incredible minority, then I pose this simple question: why aren't there more Asian American university and college presidents? If we are so good at school, wouldn't you think that we'd make it to the highest rank in the field of higher education? If we're so good at math and with money, why aren't Asian Americans dominating in the ranks of CEO's of U.S. Fortune 500 conpanies? And if we are so high achieving, why aren't we more visible/public? How many famous Asian Americans can you actually name (and I mean Asian AMERICANS.
Finally, believing that Asian Americans are high achieving, like white Americans, implies that black and Latino Americans are not--that they are NOT the model minority (and I suppose I should note that while we see many white Americans who are high achieving, I suspect that there are also many white Americans who aren't).
I guess what I'm saying is that in our current society when white American heterosexual hegemony predominates, this means that white Americans get to be rendered a fully human and individual whereas other racial minorities somehow have to "represent" or speak on behalf or act on behalf of the entire race.
2) Given that each "Asian American" group is so distinct is it accurate to classify them all into one group? Is that group too heterogeneous?
Short answer: yes. The term "Asian American" isn't a very efficient or even in many cases effective phrase to encompass a group as large as the disparate and diverse ethnicities that comprise the racial label Asian American. However, I use it and I think we need to use it and think about it because of the ways that people of Asian ancestry have been racialized and subject to institutional forces of racism (and oppressed by white supremacy/white privilege) throughout U.S. history.
In other words, racial categories exist because the system or racism needs racial categories to exist. It'd be great if we could get rid of racial categories, but that time won't happen until we can get rid of racism (see my post on this topic on the right sidebar "Getting Rid of Race"). I know folks want to see it as the other way around, but the truth is, the system of racism needs racial categories. So until we can get rid of racial inequities I don't think we get rid of racial categories.
Will the category of Asian American mutate? I think it already is. And I think depending on who you talk to, they either feel affinity with this category or they soundly reject it-and I think that's as it should be--I mean, I may believe and understand racism and racialization as a historic and institutional process that has power at its root, but my parents, who identify strongly with being Chinese (or Chinese American) may not believe that they have anything in common with their Vietnamese or Filipino neighbors. And so they may not feel like they need that label and may reject it.
And honestly, whether someone identifies as Asian American or with any racial category or not, doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that we work towards ending systems of inequity, racism being a big one to tackle--so we need as many folks on board with this project of any and all racial/ethnic categories to work on ending this form of oppression.
[Note: I hadn't intended on so much of a lag between posts but I came down with a virus and have literally been in bed the last 5 days--ACK! I'm still in bed but I have a bit more energy right now, although my doc told me that my symptoms would probably last for another week--SIGH]
1) How is having "Asian" become another overachieving racial group, like white, different from "Latino/Hispanic" or "Black? being so?
Hmmmm... I think that there are maybe 2 questions being asked (or implied). One is the assumption that Asian Americans are an "overachieving racial group" who are like "whites" (or Caucasian Americans). The second is that Asian Americans and Caucasian Americans, because of their "overachieving" status are different from "Latino/Hispanic" and "black/African American."
So first a word about terminology for newer readers of this blog. I never capitalized or use quotation marks around racial groups (yeah, I know, I just did above, but it was more in quoting from the question) like white and black Americans. And I pretty much use African American and black interchangeably, like I use white and Caucasian interchangeably. I do capitalize references to geographic spaces, hence Asian American. And I also use interchangeably Native American and Indian American (which is capitalized, I know--in general we capitalize those phrases like we capitalize Latino). I should also note that the question didn't ask about American Indians, a notable omission this time of year; unfortunately Native Americans are often left out of the conversation on race because folks think they aren't statistically relevant or they appear to be invisible. And finally I don't use the term "Hispanic"--which is a government word used to describe people whose ancestry is from South America and the Caribbean of Spanish origin. I use the term "Latino," instead, because I think it recognizes the hybridity of influences (beyond Spain) of people who are of Latin American and South American and Caribbean heritage.
OK now on to the question. I guess I'd want to rephrase it--why are Asian Americans and white Americans PERCEIVED as overachieving, and by distinction, why AREN'T African Americans/Latinos (and I'd add American Indians) PERCEIVED as overachieving (and by implication are often believed to be the opposite--lazy/not hard working, not successful).
Because I think it's about perception. The model minority myth that haunts Asian Americans declares that Asians in America are an overachieving "model" minority. But there are several problems with this myth. First, all stereotypes are damaging, in my opinion, because they are 2-dimensional portraits of people. Second, it's not true--not all Asian Americans are uber-smart/throwing off the Econ curve/science nerds. I, myself, squeaked by with a B- in pre-Calculus (and that was my last math class in high school--I took stats in college). I we WERE this incredible minority, then I pose this simple question: why aren't there more Asian American university and college presidents? If we are so good at school, wouldn't you think that we'd make it to the highest rank in the field of higher education? If we're so good at math and with money, why aren't Asian Americans dominating in the ranks of CEO's of U.S. Fortune 500 conpanies? And if we are so high achieving, why aren't we more visible/public? How many famous Asian Americans can you actually name (and I mean Asian AMERICANS.
Finally, believing that Asian Americans are high achieving, like white Americans, implies that black and Latino Americans are not--that they are NOT the model minority (and I suppose I should note that while we see many white Americans who are high achieving, I suspect that there are also many white Americans who aren't).
I guess what I'm saying is that in our current society when white American heterosexual hegemony predominates, this means that white Americans get to be rendered a fully human and individual whereas other racial minorities somehow have to "represent" or speak on behalf or act on behalf of the entire race.
2) Given that each "Asian American" group is so distinct is it accurate to classify them all into one group? Is that group too heterogeneous?
Short answer: yes. The term "Asian American" isn't a very efficient or even in many cases effective phrase to encompass a group as large as the disparate and diverse ethnicities that comprise the racial label Asian American. However, I use it and I think we need to use it and think about it because of the ways that people of Asian ancestry have been racialized and subject to institutional forces of racism (and oppressed by white supremacy/white privilege) throughout U.S. history.
In other words, racial categories exist because the system or racism needs racial categories to exist. It'd be great if we could get rid of racial categories, but that time won't happen until we can get rid of racism (see my post on this topic on the right sidebar "Getting Rid of Race"). I know folks want to see it as the other way around, but the truth is, the system of racism needs racial categories. So until we can get rid of racial inequities I don't think we get rid of racial categories.
Will the category of Asian American mutate? I think it already is. And I think depending on who you talk to, they either feel affinity with this category or they soundly reject it-and I think that's as it should be--I mean, I may believe and understand racism and racialization as a historic and institutional process that has power at its root, but my parents, who identify strongly with being Chinese (or Chinese American) may not believe that they have anything in common with their Vietnamese or Filipino neighbors. And so they may not feel like they need that label and may reject it.
And honestly, whether someone identifies as Asian American or with any racial category or not, doesn't matter to me. What matters to me is that we work towards ending systems of inequity, racism being a big one to tackle--so we need as many folks on board with this project of any and all racial/ethnic categories to work on ending this form of oppression.
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