Scene: Dollar Rental car agency just outside Bradley International Airport
Date/Time: Monday, November 3, 2008 @4:30pm
Characters: Three Dollar employees (all are Caucasian American in their thirties, 2 are female, one is male), Three customers waiting for the shuttle to Bradley Airport (2 are Caucasian and look to be a mother and teenage daughter, 1 is an Asian American female in her late 30s).
Female Dollar Employee #1: "Would you look at this handwriting? I can't make out if it is the number 1, or the number 7, or a Chinese man dancing!" (she laughs)
Female Dollar Employee #2: (Joining in the laughter--very boisterously) "That is SO FUNNY!"
Male Dollar Employee: (finishes his phone call and notices his co-workers laughing hysterically at this point). "What's so funny?"
Female Dollar Employee #2: "She (points to fellow employee) said that this handwriting is so bad it looks like a little man dancing."
Male Dollar Employee: (puzzled) "Oh..."
Customers waiting inside: Silent
[interior monologue of the Asian American customer:
"Chinese man dancing???!!! WTF is that supposed to mean??? Is that a racist comment??? Why did they glance at me and why are they laughing so hard???? Am I being paranoid/oversensitive? Should I say something? What do I say? I am SO TIRED and just want to catch my flight home...do I have to say something? Wait, now the woman is saying that it is a "little" man dancing. Did I mishear the first woman? I could have SWORN she said "Chinese man dancing"? Why else would they be laughing so hard? But maybe I misheard the first woman...maybe my racial paranoia is making me hear things. But NO! I DID hear her say that! But if I say something, they're just going to tell me I misheard, and I KNOW I didn't mishear. Damn, there's the shuttle, I'm just going to let this go, even though this is bothering me and making me feel uncomfortable...."
Showing posts with label racial paranoia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label racial paranoia. Show all posts
Friday, November 7, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Over-sensitive & In-sensitive about Race
I wanted to continue a thread of discussion begun in my March 12 (Wed) post "When a cigar is just a cigar." The comments that followed my post raised some excellent points about reading into race--why we do it, what the consequences are, the intentions behind mis-hearing and mis-interpreting actions, our subconscious biases and unintentional actions that become interpreted and racially inflected depending on the actors involved, and larger issues of the difficulty of trying to name all of this accurately and respectfully--to insist that we have a right to talk about race and racism without charges that we are being "oversensitive" about race or that others are "insensitive" to racial issues.
Let me flesh out the restaurant example I used in my March 12 post even fuller for you. It was 12:15pm when I was seated, and I seemed to be the only person eating alone (there were about 30 customers and a dozen staff, all white), and this restaurant had a bar/pub area and then a table area where a majority of the patrons were seated. I elected to sit in the less crowded area--in fact, I was the first person to sit in the bar section (there are about half a dozen elevated tables/chairs and then your usual barstools around the bar). Two white men next followed, and their order was taken before mine (at this point I had been waiting about 8-10 minutes). There was another white couple seated behind me, and the hostess noticed me looking around. I then saw her say something to two of the wait staff--a male waiter who had taken the table's order ahead of mine (and who took the order of the couple who just entered) and a female waiter. It was the female waiter who came and took my order--and, really, she was busy covering the tables at the non-bar end of the restaurant. She was very pleasant--apologized immediately--and I had very good service from her. The male waiter was also fine--he didn't "vibe" me for lack of a better word. Perhaps he thought I was waiting for someone to come, although that shouldn't have excused him not coming to my table and asking if I needed anything or was waiting for someone.
It is impossible to know why he didn't "see" me--why I was overlooked. And let me also underscore something important: THIS IS MINOR. I am not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, not when there are real racist incidents, like the example of the reporter being attacked (see March 13 post)--but I am trying to make a larger point about the ways I, and others, try to figure out our racial difference from others--and to figure out whether our discomfort is racially inflected or coming from a different source (like the minor irritation of waiting an extra 5 minutes for someone to take your order, which, again, in the bigger picture of important things to worry about, is very low on that list--and yet, putting this incident into the context of others is important in trying to figure out how to read circumstances, racially, not just for yourself but for others. And if this restaurant HAD been discriminating people on the basis of race, well, that's something important to figure out because from a social-justice point-of-view you would want them to be held accountable for this behavior, which I think almost all of us would agree is discriminatory, wrong, and actually criminal).
Again, I'll let the comments from the previous post (which you should read--they are very thoughtful) stand for any of my own analysis of this incident. The fact is, I want to be able to talk about this. Not to cry out "RACISM! RACISM!" or to shrug this off as me being "oversensitive" or "over-determining" issues of race. But to say that while I shouldn't rush to judgment about the motives behind the male waiter (for example, I could speculate that he hates Asian women--that his former girlfriend was Japanese American and he now harbors animosity towards Asian American women), the fact that it enters my head that this *might* be racially inflected is in part my own current way of "seeing" and interpreting the world, and because "it" HAS happened to me in the past--I have received poor service and was made to feel uncomfortable at a restaurant because I (and my dining mate) were the only people of color in an all white eatery.
[Aside: Of course, any idiot could tell you that showing up on a Sunday afternoon at a small diner in Columbia, South Carolina where most of the white patrons look like they came straight from church--and to enter with your Asian American male friend and sit down in the back of the diner--when both of you are dressed in shorts and tee-shirts--is to almost invite the steely stares of white octogenarians--seriously, there were two in particular who COULD NOT STOP LOOKING AT US. Most people tried to be discreet about it--glancing at us sideways or looking and then looking down. But these two just kept staring straight at us, like paramecium under a microscope. Not a comfortable feeling]
Am I oversensitive about issues of race? Perhaps--although the way I'd phrase it is that I have an interest in issues of race/racism so my radar is tuned to a high frequency where these issues are concerned. I'm much less righteous about it than in my younger, wilder days. But I am aware of the biases that we carry around--and the privileges too. And it's the privileges that makes us forget what its like for others who don't share the same benefits--that those of us who either look like the majority of the people around us, whose class background or educational background makes us comfortable walking into any store in a large mall or dining in any restaurant, and, in my own quasi-examined hetero-privilege (I don't presume to say that I always scrutinize my straight privilege--I try to--but I know I slip up and, most importantly, I don't know what it's like to be queer because I'm not queer identified and have not had the same experiences as my queer friends--so while I can be friendly to those issues, it seems arrogant and inaccurate for me to say that I know what it's like, because I don't), where I don't have to think twice about holding hands with my partner in public or kissing him.
Let me turn the question on its head: Can we be oversensitive to issues of race? What does that, exactly, mean? That people are tired of being reminded that racism exists? That they don't want to hear about my musings about whether my treatment in a restaurant was racially inflected? That I worry too much about race, and rather than do this kind of worrying I should just go about and live my life? And what are the consequences for not being sensitive to issues of race?
It's a false binary, but I'd rather be over-sensitive rather than in-sensitive about race. It hasn't stopped me from living my life or moving about in all-white spaces or talking about race when I want to or not talking about race (because I also don't want to be overdetermined, by others, to always talk about race--sometimes I just want to talk about a great song I heard or being moved to tears by a passage in a novel). But I think the point I'm driving at is that we should try to be more comfortable muddling through with this issue and shouldn't shut down dialogue on topics of race--getting out of one's comfort zone isn't a good feeling, but it is where change can occur.
Let me flesh out the restaurant example I used in my March 12 post even fuller for you. It was 12:15pm when I was seated, and I seemed to be the only person eating alone (there were about 30 customers and a dozen staff, all white), and this restaurant had a bar/pub area and then a table area where a majority of the patrons were seated. I elected to sit in the less crowded area--in fact, I was the first person to sit in the bar section (there are about half a dozen elevated tables/chairs and then your usual barstools around the bar). Two white men next followed, and their order was taken before mine (at this point I had been waiting about 8-10 minutes). There was another white couple seated behind me, and the hostess noticed me looking around. I then saw her say something to two of the wait staff--a male waiter who had taken the table's order ahead of mine (and who took the order of the couple who just entered) and a female waiter. It was the female waiter who came and took my order--and, really, she was busy covering the tables at the non-bar end of the restaurant. She was very pleasant--apologized immediately--and I had very good service from her. The male waiter was also fine--he didn't "vibe" me for lack of a better word. Perhaps he thought I was waiting for someone to come, although that shouldn't have excused him not coming to my table and asking if I needed anything or was waiting for someone.
It is impossible to know why he didn't "see" me--why I was overlooked. And let me also underscore something important: THIS IS MINOR. I am not trying to make a mountain out of a molehill, not when there are real racist incidents, like the example of the reporter being attacked (see March 13 post)--but I am trying to make a larger point about the ways I, and others, try to figure out our racial difference from others--and to figure out whether our discomfort is racially inflected or coming from a different source (like the minor irritation of waiting an extra 5 minutes for someone to take your order, which, again, in the bigger picture of important things to worry about, is very low on that list--and yet, putting this incident into the context of others is important in trying to figure out how to read circumstances, racially, not just for yourself but for others. And if this restaurant HAD been discriminating people on the basis of race, well, that's something important to figure out because from a social-justice point-of-view you would want them to be held accountable for this behavior, which I think almost all of us would agree is discriminatory, wrong, and actually criminal).
Again, I'll let the comments from the previous post (which you should read--they are very thoughtful) stand for any of my own analysis of this incident. The fact is, I want to be able to talk about this. Not to cry out "RACISM! RACISM!" or to shrug this off as me being "oversensitive" or "over-determining" issues of race. But to say that while I shouldn't rush to judgment about the motives behind the male waiter (for example, I could speculate that he hates Asian women--that his former girlfriend was Japanese American and he now harbors animosity towards Asian American women), the fact that it enters my head that this *might* be racially inflected is in part my own current way of "seeing" and interpreting the world, and because "it" HAS happened to me in the past--I have received poor service and was made to feel uncomfortable at a restaurant because I (and my dining mate) were the only people of color in an all white eatery.
[Aside: Of course, any idiot could tell you that showing up on a Sunday afternoon at a small diner in Columbia, South Carolina where most of the white patrons look like they came straight from church--and to enter with your Asian American male friend and sit down in the back of the diner--when both of you are dressed in shorts and tee-shirts--is to almost invite the steely stares of white octogenarians--seriously, there were two in particular who COULD NOT STOP LOOKING AT US. Most people tried to be discreet about it--glancing at us sideways or looking and then looking down. But these two just kept staring straight at us, like paramecium under a microscope. Not a comfortable feeling]
Am I oversensitive about issues of race? Perhaps--although the way I'd phrase it is that I have an interest in issues of race/racism so my radar is tuned to a high frequency where these issues are concerned. I'm much less righteous about it than in my younger, wilder days. But I am aware of the biases that we carry around--and the privileges too. And it's the privileges that makes us forget what its like for others who don't share the same benefits--that those of us who either look like the majority of the people around us, whose class background or educational background makes us comfortable walking into any store in a large mall or dining in any restaurant, and, in my own quasi-examined hetero-privilege (I don't presume to say that I always scrutinize my straight privilege--I try to--but I know I slip up and, most importantly, I don't know what it's like to be queer because I'm not queer identified and have not had the same experiences as my queer friends--so while I can be friendly to those issues, it seems arrogant and inaccurate for me to say that I know what it's like, because I don't), where I don't have to think twice about holding hands with my partner in public or kissing him.
Let me turn the question on its head: Can we be oversensitive to issues of race? What does that, exactly, mean? That people are tired of being reminded that racism exists? That they don't want to hear about my musings about whether my treatment in a restaurant was racially inflected? That I worry too much about race, and rather than do this kind of worrying I should just go about and live my life? And what are the consequences for not being sensitive to issues of race?
It's a false binary, but I'd rather be over-sensitive rather than in-sensitive about race. It hasn't stopped me from living my life or moving about in all-white spaces or talking about race when I want to or not talking about race (because I also don't want to be overdetermined, by others, to always talk about race--sometimes I just want to talk about a great song I heard or being moved to tears by a passage in a novel). But I think the point I'm driving at is that we should try to be more comfortable muddling through with this issue and shouldn't shut down dialogue on topics of race--getting out of one's comfort zone isn't a good feeling, but it is where change can occur.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
When a cigar is just a cigar
The other day I was talking to a friend who had a head cold. He is also an English Professor and also works on issues of race (in his case, African American) and also considers himself a person of color.
Anyway, because his head was stuffed up, he kept mishearing what people were saying at the party we were at--for example, instead of hearing me say that I got a piece of birthday cake with a flag on it, he thought I said that my piece of cake had an Asian flag. Looking at my cake (which had an ordinary red frosting flag) he was confused, until I repeated myself and then he laughed and told me what he had misheard. Which led to the two of us recounting stories of how we tend to "read" race into situations in which we may just be over-interpreting/over-determining the racialized aspects.
Now, I know that in writing the above, I am confirming the very thing that more socially conservative people think about academics who research race: HA! CAUGHT YOU! YOU ADMIT THAT YOU READ RACE INTO EVERYTHING WHEN IT SHOULDN'T BE THERE!!!
So let me back up and explain, if I can (although really, it's sort've a damned-if-you-do/damned-if-you-don't situation I'm now putting myself in).
The other day I was at a computer store and there was an African American salesperson who was holding the door open for people. It appeared that this was his job--because after I exited and then passed by the store about half an hour later, he was still there, opening the door for customers. My first thought (especially given that I live in the South) was "Wow, they really need to re-examine having this guy be the doorman because it sends a bad image."
And then I paused. And then I wondered if I was putting too much emphasis on his race. I mean, perhaps, since this is, after all, "The New South" it is a sign of progress and mobility that it doesn't matter WHO opens the door for you at a name-brand computer store--today it was an African American person. Tomorrow, it might just be one of their white employees or Asian American employees (actually, probably not since I don't remember seeing an Asian American employee in this particular store, which is, perhaps, another progress sign of breaking stereotypes since wouldn't you ASSUME that the one place you'd find Asian Americans would be at a computer store? And yes I'm being *tongue-in-cheek* here).
Anyway, I shared my anecdote with my friend and we both laughed and agreed that we tend to read race into situations that may not call for such an interpretation. But then again, being hypersensitive to issues of race isn't something I think makes me ultra paranoid (although, as I've already disclosed in this blog space, I do think I have a healthy amount of racial paranoia given the fact that I am a person of color who also works on issues of race and have faced a fair number of weird racial and racist experiences in my time).
Perhaps it's my sense of social justice and righteousness (which I do try to keep in check, but it does bubble up from time to time). I just feel very impassioned on the subject of race and racism. And so I tend to try to figure out if, in a given instance, whether I'm encountering a weird racial dynamic or not.
And I think that if you have ever found yourself as a racial minority for an extended period of time (and I'm not just talking about the one time you ended up in Chinatown for dim sum--I'm talking about living in a neighborhood or attending a school in which you found yourself to be one of the only one (or two) people of your racial or even ethnic background) then you will understand this sense of paranoia. For example, two days ago I grabbed lunch at a local grill and was seated but had to wait for someone to take my order--two white men entered about 5 minutes after I was seated and were given water and had their order taken. I looked up at them, and their waiter, and looked around the restaurant and noted that I was the only person of color at this busy eatery. And I had to wait another 2 minutes until a different waiter came over to me, apologized for not seeing me, and then took my order. I can't be certain, but I think she (my waiter) was aware of me noticing that the table next to mine had their order taken first, and whether she also recognized my racial difference from everyone else in the restaurant is debatable. My service was fine--I got my food no problem--but in moments like these, I do wonder why it was I was overlooked.
I'm sure that other people, white and non-white, have had this experience. But the key difference, I think, from a reaction of a white persons's (especially since, as I said, this was an all-white environment I was in at the moment) reaction and a non-white person's reaction (mine, for example) is that when you aren't white and this happens to you, you can't be certain that it isn't because of your non-whiteness--that being overlooked may have everything to do with your being a person of color. Or it may have everything to do with a busy wait staff and being overlooked. The problem is, it's hard to tell--hard to separate--and hence, hard to figure out, whether a cigar really is a cigar (I'm playing off of Freud, now), or whether the paranoia isn't, in fact, just an accurate gauge of discrimination.
Thoughts anyone?
Anyway, because his head was stuffed up, he kept mishearing what people were saying at the party we were at--for example, instead of hearing me say that I got a piece of birthday cake with a flag on it, he thought I said that my piece of cake had an Asian flag. Looking at my cake (which had an ordinary red frosting flag) he was confused, until I repeated myself and then he laughed and told me what he had misheard. Which led to the two of us recounting stories of how we tend to "read" race into situations in which we may just be over-interpreting/over-determining the racialized aspects.
Now, I know that in writing the above, I am confirming the very thing that more socially conservative people think about academics who research race: HA! CAUGHT YOU! YOU ADMIT THAT YOU READ RACE INTO EVERYTHING WHEN IT SHOULDN'T BE THERE!!!
So let me back up and explain, if I can (although really, it's sort've a damned-if-you-do/damned-if-you-don't situation I'm now putting myself in).
The other day I was at a computer store and there was an African American salesperson who was holding the door open for people. It appeared that this was his job--because after I exited and then passed by the store about half an hour later, he was still there, opening the door for customers. My first thought (especially given that I live in the South) was "Wow, they really need to re-examine having this guy be the doorman because it sends a bad image."
And then I paused. And then I wondered if I was putting too much emphasis on his race. I mean, perhaps, since this is, after all, "The New South" it is a sign of progress and mobility that it doesn't matter WHO opens the door for you at a name-brand computer store--today it was an African American person. Tomorrow, it might just be one of their white employees or Asian American employees (actually, probably not since I don't remember seeing an Asian American employee in this particular store, which is, perhaps, another progress sign of breaking stereotypes since wouldn't you ASSUME that the one place you'd find Asian Americans would be at a computer store? And yes I'm being *tongue-in-cheek* here).
Anyway, I shared my anecdote with my friend and we both laughed and agreed that we tend to read race into situations that may not call for such an interpretation. But then again, being hypersensitive to issues of race isn't something I think makes me ultra paranoid (although, as I've already disclosed in this blog space, I do think I have a healthy amount of racial paranoia given the fact that I am a person of color who also works on issues of race and have faced a fair number of weird racial and racist experiences in my time).
Perhaps it's my sense of social justice and righteousness (which I do try to keep in check, but it does bubble up from time to time). I just feel very impassioned on the subject of race and racism. And so I tend to try to figure out if, in a given instance, whether I'm encountering a weird racial dynamic or not.
And I think that if you have ever found yourself as a racial minority for an extended period of time (and I'm not just talking about the one time you ended up in Chinatown for dim sum--I'm talking about living in a neighborhood or attending a school in which you found yourself to be one of the only one (or two) people of your racial or even ethnic background) then you will understand this sense of paranoia. For example, two days ago I grabbed lunch at a local grill and was seated but had to wait for someone to take my order--two white men entered about 5 minutes after I was seated and were given water and had their order taken. I looked up at them, and their waiter, and looked around the restaurant and noted that I was the only person of color at this busy eatery. And I had to wait another 2 minutes until a different waiter came over to me, apologized for not seeing me, and then took my order. I can't be certain, but I think she (my waiter) was aware of me noticing that the table next to mine had their order taken first, and whether she also recognized my racial difference from everyone else in the restaurant is debatable. My service was fine--I got my food no problem--but in moments like these, I do wonder why it was I was overlooked.
I'm sure that other people, white and non-white, have had this experience. But the key difference, I think, from a reaction of a white persons's (especially since, as I said, this was an all-white environment I was in at the moment) reaction and a non-white person's reaction (mine, for example) is that when you aren't white and this happens to you, you can't be certain that it isn't because of your non-whiteness--that being overlooked may have everything to do with your being a person of color. Or it may have everything to do with a busy wait staff and being overlooked. The problem is, it's hard to tell--hard to separate--and hence, hard to figure out, whether a cigar really is a cigar (I'm playing off of Freud, now), or whether the paranoia isn't, in fact, just an accurate gauge of discrimination.
Thoughts anyone?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Airport Anxiety
I'm leaving today for California and since I'll be flying I'm bound to experience a fair amount of anxiety. I'm not *exactly* afraid of flying, but I also don't like the sensation. And in a post-9/11 world, it becomes more cumbersome to negotiate the airport.
I also feel a certain amount of anxiety about race--a type of racial paranoia not based in anything "real" because I don't even think I get targeted at airports (unlike other friends, who I believe ARE singled out, because they are of Muslim/Middle Eastern descent and/or look like they are of Arab ancestry I really can't say I have been taken out of line too often--of course now that I write that, I'm sure to be on the list of suspicious characters on this trip).
No, I think my anxiety is just due to the reality that you don't see a lot of people of color at airports--perhaps this is in correct proportions to the US racial demographics, but I'm always struck by how few people of color, esp. Asian Americans I see at airports outside of the West Coast.
And really, I just don't like to fly.
I also feel a certain amount of anxiety about race--a type of racial paranoia not based in anything "real" because I don't even think I get targeted at airports (unlike other friends, who I believe ARE singled out, because they are of Muslim/Middle Eastern descent and/or look like they are of Arab ancestry I really can't say I have been taken out of line too often--of course now that I write that, I'm sure to be on the list of suspicious characters on this trip).
No, I think my anxiety is just due to the reality that you don't see a lot of people of color at airports--perhaps this is in correct proportions to the US racial demographics, but I'm always struck by how few people of color, esp. Asian Americans I see at airports outside of the West Coast.
And really, I just don't like to fly.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Self Silencing
I've been thinking alot about silence and in particular self silencing and all the various ways that we self-silence: holding your tongue, being afraid to speak truth to power, feeling intimidated into silence, choosing silence in order to let other voices be heard, silence as a goal in itself, and other variants of this nature.
I've been thinking of self-silence because there are sometimes things I choose not to write about in this blog because I know it's public, and especially now that I don't require people to be invited to view this blog, I have no idea who is reading my words and the conclusions they are drawing about me and my work/research and how what I write in this space may or may not have ramifications for the people who comment on this blog, my academic reputation, or the professional and personal affiliations I have.
I have been thinking of self-silence because I have had thoughts about the Duke lacrosse case in Durham and the fall-out of that case and the reaction of the communities in the South and around the nation to this case, and the way it links up to other contemporary racial issues like Jena 6, Clarence Thomas's new book, and even Jimmy Carter's trip (along with other humanitarian representatives) to Sudan. And I know that I am not writing about the Duke Lacrosse case because of the negative experience I had 2 months ago, and it makes me feel like a coward--that I am not speaking truth to power, that I am censoring myself, that I am letting the mass group of (I believe largely) men who sent me hate mail or wrote scathing comments win.
And yet, I also feel like what would be accomplished by inviting another feeding frenzy into this blog space? It's not dialogue that many of what I'll call "the rabble" want--it's blood. Or at least it feels that way to me. And it also takes up so much energy to respond or to even choose not to respond. And it does raise the question of whether the blogosphere is the appropriate medium/venue/forum to have difficult, challenging, and respectful discussions about race from people who don't agree with one another.
Yet, how are we to reach any sort of understanding if we don't try? And why does civil discourse seem so hard to come by, especially surrounding issues of race?
Any thoughts?
I've been thinking of self-silence because there are sometimes things I choose not to write about in this blog because I know it's public, and especially now that I don't require people to be invited to view this blog, I have no idea who is reading my words and the conclusions they are drawing about me and my work/research and how what I write in this space may or may not have ramifications for the people who comment on this blog, my academic reputation, or the professional and personal affiliations I have.
I have been thinking of self-silence because I have had thoughts about the Duke lacrosse case in Durham and the fall-out of that case and the reaction of the communities in the South and around the nation to this case, and the way it links up to other contemporary racial issues like Jena 6, Clarence Thomas's new book, and even Jimmy Carter's trip (along with other humanitarian representatives) to Sudan. And I know that I am not writing about the Duke Lacrosse case because of the negative experience I had 2 months ago, and it makes me feel like a coward--that I am not speaking truth to power, that I am censoring myself, that I am letting the mass group of (I believe largely) men who sent me hate mail or wrote scathing comments win.
And yet, I also feel like what would be accomplished by inviting another feeding frenzy into this blog space? It's not dialogue that many of what I'll call "the rabble" want--it's blood. Or at least it feels that way to me. And it also takes up so much energy to respond or to even choose not to respond. And it does raise the question of whether the blogosphere is the appropriate medium/venue/forum to have difficult, challenging, and respectful discussions about race from people who don't agree with one another.
Yet, how are we to reach any sort of understanding if we don't try? And why does civil discourse seem so hard to come by, especially surrounding issues of race?
Any thoughts?
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Being Paranoid vs. Being a Target
I'm returning, once again, to the topic of racial paranoia, because over the Labor Day weekend I was in West Virginia visiting some friends. And over the course of three days I became aware that I must have had an invisible sign on my forehead that said "Please stare at me long and hard." While I think some of the staring was out of curiosity, there were distinct moments when the staring felt hostile. And it's hard for me to unpack whether it's because I was with my white boyfriend (which means we constituted an inter-racial couple, the only one I saw in the 3 days of our trip) or because I was visibly Asian and hence different and hence not from there (aside from looking at my face in the mirror, there were no Asian people I saw over the course of 3 days--not at rest stops or restaurants or gas stations or supermarkets or the Hampton Inn we were staying at).
I, obviously, felt paranoid. Even my white Southern boyfriend, born and raised in a Southern Capital, felt uncomfortable with the evangelical and conservative overlay we felt, at times, hitting us on our travels (which only increased my paranoid feelings, because if my white Southern boyfriend is feeling like West Virginia is uncomfortable TO HIM, you can only imagine what I was experiencing).
However, I want to be clear about one thing: nothing bad happened to us. Nothing was said. Nobody bothered us. While I may have detected a certain curtness with our Shoney's waitress (that's right, we ate at Shoneys: and for anyone traveling out there--DON'T DO IT! ONE OF THE WORST MEALS OF MY LIFE. But we were hungry and tired and looking for something quick near our hotel that wasn't fast food). And while the woman at the Dairy Queen could not take her eyes off me--kept staring at me with an expression on her face that indicated that she had stepped into something foul and unpleasant, nothing was said, nothing was done.
Which means, that all in all, it wasn't all that bad. Uncomfortable? Sure, but it is vastly different from experiencing the effects of real institutional racism.
Which is the topic of this post: The Jena 6. Again, for a more succinct (and visual) summary than I can provide here, please go to the link on the Racialicious website:
Link to Jena 6 case:
The African American teens in Jena, LA experienced people putting nooses on a tree, a man who aimed a rifle at them, being beat up at parties, and overall harassment and abuse. That's real racism. I mention this not to say that my paranoia isn't warranted--it comes from a place where I fear what is happening to these African American students could happen to me in places where I'm obviously a curiosity, at best, or an item of hostility and possible abuse, at worst. But the truth is, as much as I think it's folly to rank racism, the history of race relations in the South, of racism against African Americans in places like Jena, LA is a long and deep and troubled one. And it is different, my experiences as an Asian American woman, are different than the experiences of young African American men.
I, obviously, felt paranoid. Even my white Southern boyfriend, born and raised in a Southern Capital, felt uncomfortable with the evangelical and conservative overlay we felt, at times, hitting us on our travels (which only increased my paranoid feelings, because if my white Southern boyfriend is feeling like West Virginia is uncomfortable TO HIM, you can only imagine what I was experiencing).
However, I want to be clear about one thing: nothing bad happened to us. Nothing was said. Nobody bothered us. While I may have detected a certain curtness with our Shoney's waitress (that's right, we ate at Shoneys: and for anyone traveling out there--DON'T DO IT! ONE OF THE WORST MEALS OF MY LIFE. But we were hungry and tired and looking for something quick near our hotel that wasn't fast food). And while the woman at the Dairy Queen could not take her eyes off me--kept staring at me with an expression on her face that indicated that she had stepped into something foul and unpleasant, nothing was said, nothing was done.
Which means, that all in all, it wasn't all that bad. Uncomfortable? Sure, but it is vastly different from experiencing the effects of real institutional racism.
Which is the topic of this post: The Jena 6. Again, for a more succinct (and visual) summary than I can provide here, please go to the link on the Racialicious website:
Link to Jena 6 case:
The African American teens in Jena, LA experienced people putting nooses on a tree, a man who aimed a rifle at them, being beat up at parties, and overall harassment and abuse. That's real racism. I mention this not to say that my paranoia isn't warranted--it comes from a place where I fear what is happening to these African American students could happen to me in places where I'm obviously a curiosity, at best, or an item of hostility and possible abuse, at worst. But the truth is, as much as I think it's folly to rank racism, the history of race relations in the South, of racism against African Americans in places like Jena, LA is a long and deep and troubled one. And it is different, my experiences as an Asian American woman, are different than the experiences of young African American men.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Suffering from Racial Paranoia
Somewhere in this blog I've discussed racial hypochondria, the term I came up with for the feeling when you are being "oversensitive" about race, it's a bit different from paranoia, because with hypochondria, oftentimes these are people who have suffered from illnesses in the past and are therefore over-sensitive to issues related to their health. Similarly, with racial hyponchondria, these are people who have experienced racism or race related incidents that means that they are looking for similar experiences to happen to them.
However, what I experienced yesterday was a clear case of racial paranoia and not hypochondria, because there was really no basis in reality for my feelings, other than my own hyper-awareness to issues of race.
Yesterday my boyfriend and I went to a new French restaurant. We had about a 10-15 minute wait and so we went to the bar to get a drink. The bartender (who turns out to also be the co-owner of the restaurant) was busy engaged in talking to another couple at the bar and seemed to not recognize that we were interested in ordering drinks. Admittedly bad service, but for some reason, as we kept getting ignored (and after about 10 minutes had passed) I looked around the restaurant (it's a small place, about 50 diners) and realized I was the only visible non-white person in the whole place. And so then, I started to think, "is this because I'm Asian?"
Anyway, we eventually got our drinks, eventually (30 minutes later) got seated, and eventually received poor service from our waiter (who had to be asked to bring bread to the table and reminded to refill our water glasses). Overall I wasn't impressed with our meal or the service, but the truth is, although I continued to be the only non-white visible person in the restaurant, I believe the problems were inherent with the restaurant and not with the reaction to me because I was Asian and not white. And yet, that feeling persisted. I knew it was irrational, but I couldn't help *feeling* that my discomfort was linked to this racial difference.
And then today, as I was relating this to a friend, I realized that my feelings probably had a lot to do with the comparison between being, recently, in Toronto and California--places in which racial diversity is rampant and, in particular, Asian Americans (Canadians) are a visible and sizable presence. It just so happened that I was with my friend at an Urgent Care clinic (no worries--it was just a sprained ankle for her) and the doctor that she saw was South Asian (Indian to be precise) and so there we were, three Asian American women in a Southern state. And I felt right at home at that moment.
However, what I experienced yesterday was a clear case of racial paranoia and not hypochondria, because there was really no basis in reality for my feelings, other than my own hyper-awareness to issues of race.
Yesterday my boyfriend and I went to a new French restaurant. We had about a 10-15 minute wait and so we went to the bar to get a drink. The bartender (who turns out to also be the co-owner of the restaurant) was busy engaged in talking to another couple at the bar and seemed to not recognize that we were interested in ordering drinks. Admittedly bad service, but for some reason, as we kept getting ignored (and after about 10 minutes had passed) I looked around the restaurant (it's a small place, about 50 diners) and realized I was the only visible non-white person in the whole place. And so then, I started to think, "is this because I'm Asian?"
Anyway, we eventually got our drinks, eventually (30 minutes later) got seated, and eventually received poor service from our waiter (who had to be asked to bring bread to the table and reminded to refill our water glasses). Overall I wasn't impressed with our meal or the service, but the truth is, although I continued to be the only non-white visible person in the restaurant, I believe the problems were inherent with the restaurant and not with the reaction to me because I was Asian and not white. And yet, that feeling persisted. I knew it was irrational, but I couldn't help *feeling* that my discomfort was linked to this racial difference.
And then today, as I was relating this to a friend, I realized that my feelings probably had a lot to do with the comparison between being, recently, in Toronto and California--places in which racial diversity is rampant and, in particular, Asian Americans (Canadians) are a visible and sizable presence. It just so happened that I was with my friend at an Urgent Care clinic (no worries--it was just a sprained ankle for her) and the doctor that she saw was South Asian (Indian to be precise) and so there we were, three Asian American women in a Southern state. And I felt right at home at that moment.
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