To close out National Poetry Month, I thought that I'd highlight three female slam/spoken word poets, StaceyAnn Chin, Alix, Olson, and Suheir Hammad. All three have been featured on Russell Simmon's HBO Def Poetry Jam and are notable for speaking truth to power and their extraordinary rhetorical and lyrical power.
For me, I think they remind me that poetry began as a spoken art form--it began in the tradition of Homer--the oral repetition of stories, recording the lives of heroic men and their exploits in love and war. These three women are the inheritors of Homer, taking the form to a new level, telling their own particular truths and stories, recording the heroic aspects of their own lives.
StaceyAnn Chin:
Alix Olson:
Suheri Hammad:
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Why aren't there more black golfers? (Don't) Blame it on Tiger
ESPN has an article that came out on April 5 (so before the Masters and Tiger's impressive rally/duel with Phil Mickelson--really, it speaks volumes about the skill of both players that they should come from behind and make a real push at the end--and both came close to being in that 3-way final sudden-death round with Cabrera (the winner), Perry, and Campbell) about Tiger Woods, his racial identity, and the dearth of black golfers on the PGA. In other words, it's an article about why Tiger hasn't heralded a new wave of young black golfers into the professional ranks, which is what everyone was talking about/predicting back when Tiger turned pro and won the first of his Master's green jackets by an impressive margin (12--the largest in Master's history).
Here is ESPN's "video" article and the actual "article" (click here) about Tiger and race and the lack of black golfers on the PGA:
Of course, regular readers can imagine that I have an opinion about all of this because (1) I am a golfer (2) I am a Tiger Woods fan (3) I work/teach/write on issues of race (4) I've written about the specific issue of Tiger and race before (actually many times, but the post that is most pertinent is "Let Tiger Be Tiger" as is this one "Gee You Don't Look 'Asian'").
So here it is in a nutshell: Tiger is not the sole person responsible for the PGA identifying, supporting, and promoting young African American golfers into its ranks. He's not even the main person responsible. The main body responsible for identifying, recruiting, and ensuring that there is a cadre of black, as well as other non-white American golfers is the PGA (which at last glance was comprised of mostly white American middle-aged men). And guess what? There are others, aside from Tiger or other professional golfers, who should be working on this issue--golf instructors/pros, golf writers, golf club members of all races could all be putting their individual and collective weight behind this issue.
Because here's the thing: this is not just a "black" issue. Wanting the Professional Golf Association of AMERICA to look more like the actual demographics and composition of AMERICA seems to be an issue that all AMERICANS can get behind. And whether or not Tiger identifies as African American or mixed-race American or Afro-Asian or Cablinasian, the issue of diversifying the PGA is a responsibility of everyone associated with golf in the U.S.
I also think that it's silly for Eddie Payton to say that Tiger doesn't identify as African American. That statement implies that somehow Tiger is ashamed of his African American heritage or his relationship with his father or his friends (among whom are some of the most prominent African American professional sports figures, like Charles Barkley and Michael Jordan). Just because Tiger chooses to identify as mixed-race (which he has says he does so as not to deny/ignore the existence and influence of his Thai mother) doesn't mean he doesn't affiliate with his African American heritage or doesn't appreciate the black community.
Should Tiger be doing more politically active and social justice oriented work, given his power and influence? That would be my own personal wish. However, I don't think it's his especial responsibility to take on "racial" issues because he is the most powerful and visible non-white person in the PGA. I understand the logic of believing that he should--because the assumption is that no white person is going to care about identifying, recruiting, and promoting African American golfers, nor will they care about changing the culture of golf so that it is much less privileged/racist/classist/sexist and more inclusive of diversity in all its permutations.
I should also note that while there have been, recently, some prominent Asian American golfers (a shout out to Anthony Kim, "AK"), the PGA is pretty white. I mean, one could ask, where is the next Lee Trevino? I recognize that an Argentinian recently won the Master's championship, but what about an Argentinian AMERICAN? Where are all the Latino golfers? And American Indian? And mixed race golfers? If you dig into the history of golf, it's not a surprise to understand why golf has been such a traditionally white, male sport. There are still many country clubs that admit men only -- and their membership of non-white members is pretty scant.
But we CAN do something about it. Or we should try. And by we, I mean all who love golf--all who play--all who watch and, especially, all who are involved in positions of power and decision making and who have access to MONEY and INFLUENCE to change, literally CHANGE the face of golf.
And to close, let me leave you with this latest ad from NIKE that shows the impact of Tiger's absence from the world of golf last season and the impact of his return on his fellow golfers:
Here is ESPN's "video" article and the actual "article" (click here) about Tiger and race and the lack of black golfers on the PGA:
Of course, regular readers can imagine that I have an opinion about all of this because (1) I am a golfer (2) I am a Tiger Woods fan (3) I work/teach/write on issues of race (4) I've written about the specific issue of Tiger and race before (actually many times, but the post that is most pertinent is "Let Tiger Be Tiger" as is this one "Gee You Don't Look 'Asian'").
So here it is in a nutshell: Tiger is not the sole person responsible for the PGA identifying, supporting, and promoting young African American golfers into its ranks. He's not even the main person responsible. The main body responsible for identifying, recruiting, and ensuring that there is a cadre of black, as well as other non-white American golfers is the PGA (which at last glance was comprised of mostly white American middle-aged men). And guess what? There are others, aside from Tiger or other professional golfers, who should be working on this issue--golf instructors/pros, golf writers, golf club members of all races could all be putting their individual and collective weight behind this issue.
Because here's the thing: this is not just a "black" issue. Wanting the Professional Golf Association of AMERICA to look more like the actual demographics and composition of AMERICA seems to be an issue that all AMERICANS can get behind. And whether or not Tiger identifies as African American or mixed-race American or Afro-Asian or Cablinasian, the issue of diversifying the PGA is a responsibility of everyone associated with golf in the U.S.
I also think that it's silly for Eddie Payton to say that Tiger doesn't identify as African American. That statement implies that somehow Tiger is ashamed of his African American heritage or his relationship with his father or his friends (among whom are some of the most prominent African American professional sports figures, like Charles Barkley and Michael Jordan). Just because Tiger chooses to identify as mixed-race (which he has says he does so as not to deny/ignore the existence and influence of his Thai mother) doesn't mean he doesn't affiliate with his African American heritage or doesn't appreciate the black community.
Should Tiger be doing more politically active and social justice oriented work, given his power and influence? That would be my own personal wish. However, I don't think it's his especial responsibility to take on "racial" issues because he is the most powerful and visible non-white person in the PGA. I understand the logic of believing that he should--because the assumption is that no white person is going to care about identifying, recruiting, and promoting African American golfers, nor will they care about changing the culture of golf so that it is much less privileged/racist/classist/sexist and more inclusive of diversity in all its permutations.
I should also note that while there have been, recently, some prominent Asian American golfers (a shout out to Anthony Kim, "AK"), the PGA is pretty white. I mean, one could ask, where is the next Lee Trevino? I recognize that an Argentinian recently won the Master's championship, but what about an Argentinian AMERICAN? Where are all the Latino golfers? And American Indian? And mixed race golfers? If you dig into the history of golf, it's not a surprise to understand why golf has been such a traditionally white, male sport. There are still many country clubs that admit men only -- and their membership of non-white members is pretty scant.
But we CAN do something about it. Or we should try. And by we, I mean all who love golf--all who play--all who watch and, especially, all who are involved in positions of power and decision making and who have access to MONEY and INFLUENCE to change, literally CHANGE the face of golf.
And to close, let me leave you with this latest ad from NIKE that shows the impact of Tiger's absence from the world of golf last season and the impact of his return on his fellow golfers:
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
This week's poet: Vikram Seth & The Golden Gate
You may accuse me of cheating a bit in my recommendation of this week's poet--or at least this week's poetic text. Because for those of you who haven't picked up Vikram Seth's The Golden Gate, let me just say: what are you waiting for? Go out to your local bookshop and pick up a copy NOW!
Vikram Seth was born in Calcutta, India. He is truly a Renaissance man, for he began his writing career at Stanford, not out of the English Department but in-between writing a PhD in Economics (I think he's still ABD). While working on his dissertation, he decided to apply for the very prestigious Wallace Stegner writing fellowship, got it, and then took some time out from his PhD work in Economics to write poetry -- and he published a book of verse out of that endeavor, Mappings. Then he became fluent in Chinese, lived a few years in China, and published a travel memoir, From Heaven's Lake, followed by another book of poetry, The Humble Adminstrator's Garden, and then The Golden Gate. He has gone on to publish half-a-dozen other books of fiction and poetry and memoir/biography, and he currently lives in San Francisco (although I think he splits his time between CA and India).
Published in 1986, The Golden Gate is a novel in verse, modeled on Alexander Pushkin's novel in verse, Eugene Onegin.
[NOTE: Pushkin, who is REVERED in Russia (something crazy like 90% of Russians have read Eugene Onegin), is also 1/8 African, which makes him one of the world's great mixed-race writers.]
The novel is set in the early 1980s and follows a cast of young, urban professionals (remember Yuppies?) in the SF Bay area, falling in and out of love, protesting nuclear war, trying to reconcile their queer sexual desire with their Catholicism, and, in general, being 20-something post-graduates.
But what makes this novel truly unique is that it is composed entirely in Onegin stanzas. Let me show you through the opening stanza of the novel:
To make a start more swift than weighty A
Hail Muse. Dear Reader, once upon b
A time, say, circa 1980, A
There lived a man. His name was John. b
Successful in his field though only C
Twenty-six, respected, lonely, C
One evening as he walked across d
Golden Gate Park, the ill-judged toss d
Of a red frisbee almost brained him. E
He thought, “If I died, who’d be sad? f
Who’d weep? Who’d gloat? Who would be glad? f
Would anybody?” As it pained him, E
He turned from this dispiriting theme g
To ruminations less extreme. g
I know that a few of you may think, "UGH! A novel composed entirely of sonnets!" But really, after you start to get into the rhythm of the work, you become used to the formality of the verse, and there is something about the juxtaposition of such contemporary themes with such a traditional verse form that is simply wonderful.
Plus, there's the whimsy! Seth has a fondness for animals, especially cats. There is one named Charlemagne who develops a deep animosity for his owner's boyfriend. And there is an iguana named Arnold Schwarzenegger (and all this before he became the "Governator"). He actually rhymes "piranha" with "iguana," when describing how one of the characters, Ed, goes into a petshop originally intending to buy the flesh-eating fish only to walk out with the green reptile.
But this novel isn't just whimsical--it ruminates on the nature of love, on issues of social justice, on queer love, the duty to family, to God, to ourselves. Anyway, if you want to read something truly original, let me recommend that you try Vikram Seth's The Golden Gate. There is just something truly pleasurable about this book, and I believe it is due, in large part, to the brilliance and skill of his verse.
Vikram Seth was born in Calcutta, India. He is truly a Renaissance man, for he began his writing career at Stanford, not out of the English Department but in-between writing a PhD in Economics (I think he's still ABD). While working on his dissertation, he decided to apply for the very prestigious Wallace Stegner writing fellowship, got it, and then took some time out from his PhD work in Economics to write poetry -- and he published a book of verse out of that endeavor, Mappings. Then he became fluent in Chinese, lived a few years in China, and published a travel memoir, From Heaven's Lake, followed by another book of poetry, The Humble Adminstrator's Garden, and then The Golden Gate. He has gone on to publish half-a-dozen other books of fiction and poetry and memoir/biography, and he currently lives in San Francisco (although I think he splits his time between CA and India).
Published in 1986, The Golden Gate is a novel in verse, modeled on Alexander Pushkin's novel in verse, Eugene Onegin.
[NOTE: Pushkin, who is REVERED in Russia (something crazy like 90% of Russians have read Eugene Onegin), is also 1/8 African, which makes him one of the world's great mixed-race writers.]
The novel is set in the early 1980s and follows a cast of young, urban professionals (remember Yuppies?) in the SF Bay area, falling in and out of love, protesting nuclear war, trying to reconcile their queer sexual desire with their Catholicism, and, in general, being 20-something post-graduates.
But what makes this novel truly unique is that it is composed entirely in Onegin stanzas. Let me show you through the opening stanza of the novel:
To make a start more swift than weighty A
Hail Muse. Dear Reader, once upon b
A time, say, circa 1980, A
There lived a man. His name was John. b
Successful in his field though only C
Twenty-six, respected, lonely, C
One evening as he walked across d
Golden Gate Park, the ill-judged toss d
Of a red frisbee almost brained him. E
He thought, “If I died, who’d be sad? f
Who’d weep? Who’d gloat? Who would be glad? f
Would anybody?” As it pained him, E
He turned from this dispiriting theme g
To ruminations less extreme. g
I know that a few of you may think, "UGH! A novel composed entirely of sonnets!" But really, after you start to get into the rhythm of the work, you become used to the formality of the verse, and there is something about the juxtaposition of such contemporary themes with such a traditional verse form that is simply wonderful.
Plus, there's the whimsy! Seth has a fondness for animals, especially cats. There is one named Charlemagne who develops a deep animosity for his owner's boyfriend. And there is an iguana named Arnold Schwarzenegger (and all this before he became the "Governator"). He actually rhymes "piranha" with "iguana," when describing how one of the characters, Ed, goes into a petshop originally intending to buy the flesh-eating fish only to walk out with the green reptile.
But this novel isn't just whimsical--it ruminates on the nature of love, on issues of social justice, on queer love, the duty to family, to God, to ourselves. Anyway, if you want to read something truly original, let me recommend that you try Vikram Seth's The Golden Gate. There is just something truly pleasurable about this book, and I believe it is due, in large part, to the brilliance and skill of his verse.
Monday, April 20, 2009
I am Elizabeth Bennett
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that if you are a Jane Austen fan (or Austen-ite), then of all the female characters in Pride & Prejudice you will most identify with Elizabeth Bennett. Or at least you will WANT to be Elizabeth Bennett. The other female options are just not real options for those of us who live and breathe the Austen aura. Mary? Too pedantic. Kitty? A follower. Lydia? A thoughtless, narcissistic flirt. Mrs. Bennett? A grown-up, hypochondriac Lydia. Caroline Bingley? Stuck up bitch. Jane Bennett? Too sweet/good/anemic.
That really leaves Elizabeth. She's willing to walk three miles with mud up to her ankles to tend to her sick sister at another person's house. The fault laid against her by her friends and family is that she is not quite as pretty as Jane and (more telling) that she is too apt to speak her mind. She reads (but doesn't consider reading more important than other livelier pursuits). She plays the piano (although not quite well). And she values people not for their rank, position, or wealth but the quality of their character (and their kindness).
Now, none of us can truly be Elizabeth. She's a fictional character of another era (Regency Britain of the late 18th C). Sure she's rendered into celluloid life by both Jennifer Ehle (6-hour BBC version) and Kiera Knightley (major motion picture release). And actually it's these cinematic renditions that I want to talk about. Because of course, on film, you want to render things realistically--which means you pick people who are white and British (or who can do a passable British accent--and I'm thinking of you Gwyneth Paltrow) and you put them in period costume and throw in some ducks and geese and pigs to show how "real" life was back then.
But in the theater? Well, theater is a different venue altogether.
Now for those of you wondering (where the heck is she GOING with this in a blog called "Mixed Race America") this is what I mean.
Yesterday I saw a theater production of Pride & Prejudice. And like with many Shakespeare plays, this one engaged in color-blind casting. Which means, they weren't trying to cast everyone "authentically" as British or white. No one even tried to do a British accent (well, actually, one actor did). But it also means that there were four roles who went to visible people of color: Kitty was played by an Afro-Latina actress (I say Afro-Latina because her appearance suggested African American but her name suggested Latino influence). Mr. Binghley was played by a South Asian American actor and his sister, Caroline Binghley, was played by an African American actress. And most astounding enough, the lead--THE LEAD--was played by an Asian American (Filipina if I had to guess by both name and appearance) woman.
That's right. Elizabeth Bennett was Asian.
And while I can't vouch for the actual production (lets face it--it would have had to have been SPECTACULAR for any Austen-fan to think it was better than either of the films I mentioned above, let alone the novel itself), as I was watching Elizabeth deliver her lines (she wasn't bad, by the way--the actress that is), I imagined the following imaginary scenario:
You are an Asian American girl in High School and your English teacher assigns Pride & Prejudice. You and your girlfriends love the book and talk about wanting to be like Elizabeth. Your class takes a field trip to see a theater production. Lo and behold, you see the actress and realize that you actually CAN be Elizabeth Bennett!
This is why I went to see this play. Not because I love Pride & Prejudice, but because when I saw the stills from the production, I saw that Elizabeth was played by an Asian American woman. And I wanted to have that experience--of seeing someone who could be me, portray one of the most beloved of Austen's heroines on stage. I wanted, briefly, the idea that I, or someone like me, could be the protagonist--the hero--the one who everyone cheers for (and claps for) at the end of the performance. For the first time in my experience, Asian Americans, along with African American and Latinos, were put into the British literary canon in a really tangible, visible way.
And I though: well it's about time!
That really leaves Elizabeth. She's willing to walk three miles with mud up to her ankles to tend to her sick sister at another person's house. The fault laid against her by her friends and family is that she is not quite as pretty as Jane and (more telling) that she is too apt to speak her mind. She reads (but doesn't consider reading more important than other livelier pursuits). She plays the piano (although not quite well). And she values people not for their rank, position, or wealth but the quality of their character (and their kindness).
Now, none of us can truly be Elizabeth. She's a fictional character of another era (Regency Britain of the late 18th C). Sure she's rendered into celluloid life by both Jennifer Ehle (6-hour BBC version) and Kiera Knightley (major motion picture release). And actually it's these cinematic renditions that I want to talk about. Because of course, on film, you want to render things realistically--which means you pick people who are white and British (or who can do a passable British accent--and I'm thinking of you Gwyneth Paltrow) and you put them in period costume and throw in some ducks and geese and pigs to show how "real" life was back then.
But in the theater? Well, theater is a different venue altogether.
Now for those of you wondering (where the heck is she GOING with this in a blog called "Mixed Race America") this is what I mean.
Yesterday I saw a theater production of Pride & Prejudice. And like with many Shakespeare plays, this one engaged in color-blind casting. Which means, they weren't trying to cast everyone "authentically" as British or white. No one even tried to do a British accent (well, actually, one actor did). But it also means that there were four roles who went to visible people of color: Kitty was played by an Afro-Latina actress (I say Afro-Latina because her appearance suggested African American but her name suggested Latino influence). Mr. Binghley was played by a South Asian American actor and his sister, Caroline Binghley, was played by an African American actress. And most astounding enough, the lead--THE LEAD--was played by an Asian American (Filipina if I had to guess by both name and appearance) woman.
That's right. Elizabeth Bennett was Asian.
And while I can't vouch for the actual production (lets face it--it would have had to have been SPECTACULAR for any Austen-fan to think it was better than either of the films I mentioned above, let alone the novel itself), as I was watching Elizabeth deliver her lines (she wasn't bad, by the way--the actress that is), I imagined the following imaginary scenario:
You are an Asian American girl in High School and your English teacher assigns Pride & Prejudice. You and your girlfriends love the book and talk about wanting to be like Elizabeth. Your class takes a field trip to see a theater production. Lo and behold, you see the actress and realize that you actually CAN be Elizabeth Bennett!
This is why I went to see this play. Not because I love Pride & Prejudice, but because when I saw the stills from the production, I saw that Elizabeth was played by an Asian American woman. And I wanted to have that experience--of seeing someone who could be me, portray one of the most beloved of Austen's heroines on stage. I wanted, briefly, the idea that I, or someone like me, could be the protagonist--the hero--the one who everyone cheers for (and claps for) at the end of the performance. For the first time in my experience, Asian Americans, along with African American and Latinos, were put into the British literary canon in a really tangible, visible way.
And I though: well it's about time!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Oriental describes rugs not people
Growing up, I often heard the word "Oriental" used interchangeably with Asian or even Asian American. It wasn't until I went to college and took my first Asian American studies course during my freshman year that I learned about the history of this word--that it was used as a sign of Imperialism against people from Asian (and Middle-Eastern) countries in order to objectify them and render them as objects of study, colonization, and/or plunder.
If you look at a dictionary definition, like the Oxford English Dictionary (and what better place to start than the OED), the first two definitions of Oriental are:
1) Belonging to, or situated in, that part or region of the heavens in which the sun rises
2) Belonging to or situated in the east of a country or place, or of the earth; eastern.
But here's the thing: it matters where you are situated to figure out what is "east." If I'm standing on the Great Wall of China, then what is technically "east" is the continent of North America (if we're talking in terms of continents")--so isn't "Oriental" all a matter of perspective?
At any rate, I begin here with Oriental because I have been thinking about the question of appropriation--which I brought up when talking about the film Rachel Getting Married. And one astute commenter asked whether or not the use of an Indian motif in this film was a matter of irony versus cultural appropriation, which is what I had written very directly in my initial post in response to the image below:
So why is this cultural appropriation? Or rather, why am I using the word "appropriation" versus noting that they had an Indian themed wedding?
Because in this case, I feel that appropriation--the act of taking something that doesn't quite belong to you--is the more accurate sense of what is happening, aesthetically, in this film for this fictitious wedding. Yes, it is perhaps part of the multicultural/bohemian/anything-goes-lets-throw-in-the-kitchen-sink-if-its-a-different-ethnicity "tone" of the film. But it also feels stylized in such a way that it made me feel like it wasn't simply another "additive" to their hodge-podge racial/ethnic/national mix of friends and family; the details of the saris and the elephant cake and the rehearsal dinner at an Indian restaurant was the dominant motif of the wedding. And yet, neither family revealed themselves to have any connection to India or Indian culture.
Indian isn't just what you have for dinner. And it's not a decorating choice for your living room. And unless you grew up with Indian culture or in an Indian home or in India, it seems like having an "Indian" wedding would mean you are taking part of someone else's culture for your own purposes--you are appropriating their culture--you are Orientalizing someone else's culture for the sake of being hip, cool, ironic.
But Indian culture isn't ironic--at least not for people who are in India or among the millions in the Indian diaspora. Indian culture is complex, multifaceted, segmented by region, religion, history, politics, sexuality, and a host of other things that can't be whittled down to a single cuisine or decorative choice. In terms of the overall feel of the film, the Indian-themed wedding seemed to be another "quirky" element, one signaling openness to multiculturalism, but only in a surface way--it's not as if they had a Hindi ceremony or chose any of the spiritual practices associated with various Indian sects (like Sikh, Buddhism, Jain, Islam or in Southern India, Catholicism).
Anyway, in my book, all this means is that it feels like cultural appropriation for the sake of achieving a certain tonal element in the film. And while I did like the movie, I found the "Indian" details to be unnecessary and a bit too precious and pretentious, especially due to the absence of actual Indian people/bodies in this film.
If you look at a dictionary definition, like the Oxford English Dictionary (and what better place to start than the OED), the first two definitions of Oriental are:
1) Belonging to, or situated in, that part or region of the heavens in which the sun rises
2) Belonging to or situated in the east of a country or place, or of the earth; eastern.
But here's the thing: it matters where you are situated to figure out what is "east." If I'm standing on the Great Wall of China, then what is technically "east" is the continent of North America (if we're talking in terms of continents")--so isn't "Oriental" all a matter of perspective?
At any rate, I begin here with Oriental because I have been thinking about the question of appropriation--which I brought up when talking about the film Rachel Getting Married. And one astute commenter asked whether or not the use of an Indian motif in this film was a matter of irony versus cultural appropriation, which is what I had written very directly in my initial post in response to the image below:
"A scene right before Rachel and her new husband are about to cut a cake that is in the form of a stylized Indian elephant--by the way, this was one element I definitely thought was odd because neither Rachel nor Sidney nor their families appear to be Hindi/Indian and this "theme" for their wedding is never explained--which raises another question about cultural appropriation, especially for weddings, but I'll save that for another post."
So why is this cultural appropriation? Or rather, why am I using the word "appropriation" versus noting that they had an Indian themed wedding?
Because in this case, I feel that appropriation--the act of taking something that doesn't quite belong to you--is the more accurate sense of what is happening, aesthetically, in this film for this fictitious wedding. Yes, it is perhaps part of the multicultural/bohemian/anything-goes-lets-throw-in-the-kitchen-sink-if-its-a-different-ethnicity "tone" of the film. But it also feels stylized in such a way that it made me feel like it wasn't simply another "additive" to their hodge-podge racial/ethnic/national mix of friends and family; the details of the saris and the elephant cake and the rehearsal dinner at an Indian restaurant was the dominant motif of the wedding. And yet, neither family revealed themselves to have any connection to India or Indian culture.
Indian isn't just what you have for dinner. And it's not a decorating choice for your living room. And unless you grew up with Indian culture or in an Indian home or in India, it seems like having an "Indian" wedding would mean you are taking part of someone else's culture for your own purposes--you are appropriating their culture--you are Orientalizing someone else's culture for the sake of being hip, cool, ironic.
But Indian culture isn't ironic--at least not for people who are in India or among the millions in the Indian diaspora. Indian culture is complex, multifaceted, segmented by region, religion, history, politics, sexuality, and a host of other things that can't be whittled down to a single cuisine or decorative choice. In terms of the overall feel of the film, the Indian-themed wedding seemed to be another "quirky" element, one signaling openness to multiculturalism, but only in a surface way--it's not as if they had a Hindi ceremony or chose any of the spiritual practices associated with various Indian sects (like Sikh, Buddhism, Jain, Islam or in Southern India, Catholicism).
Anyway, in my book, all this means is that it feels like cultural appropriation for the sake of achieving a certain tonal element in the film. And while I did like the movie, I found the "Indian" details to be unnecessary and a bit too precious and pretentious, especially due to the absence of actual Indian people/bodies in this film.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Paisley Rekdal & not fitting in
This Poetry Month's poet of the week is Paisley Rekdal. Rekdal is an Associate Professor at the University of Utah. But it's her book of essays that first drew my attention. While living in the Pioneer Valley, I saw her book of essays in my favorite South Hadley independent bookshop, The Odyssey Bookshop. Here's the cover:
The Night My Mother Met Bruce Lee: Observations on Not Fitting In is a great collection of Rekdal's non-fiction. In particular, for those of you looking for a mixed-race writer, Rekdal writes honestly and introspectively about her bi-racial, bi-cultural experiences, both in various Asian countries (she's done a fair amount of sojourning to places like Taiwan, China, the Phillipines, and South Korea). But whether you identify as mixed-race or not, most of us can relate to the idea of "not fitting in"--although I suppose some of us my identify with that phrase more than others (esp. depending on the context/region of where we are).
In addition to being a wonderful prose writer, Rekdal is also an accomplished poet--her latest collection, The Invention of the Kaleidoscope (2007) is a testament to that. And here's a selection, "Bats" from her latest book:
Bats
by Paisley Rekdal
unveil themselves in dark.
They hang, each a jagged,
silken sleeve, from moonlit rafters bright
as polished knives. They swim
the muddled air and keen
like supersonic babies, the sound
we imagine empty wombs might make
in women who can’t fill them up.
A clasp, a scratch, a sigh.
They drink fruit dry.
And wheel, against feverish light flung hard
upon their faces,
in circles that nauseate.
Imagine one at breast or neck,
Patterning a name in driblets of iodine
that spatter your skin stars.
They flutter, shake like mystics.
They materialize. Revelatory
as a stranger’s underthings found tossed
upon the marital bed, you tremble
even at the thought. Asleep,
you tear your fingers
and search the sheets all night.
The Night My Mother Met Bruce Lee: Observations on Not Fitting In is a great collection of Rekdal's non-fiction. In particular, for those of you looking for a mixed-race writer, Rekdal writes honestly and introspectively about her bi-racial, bi-cultural experiences, both in various Asian countries (she's done a fair amount of sojourning to places like Taiwan, China, the Phillipines, and South Korea). But whether you identify as mixed-race or not, most of us can relate to the idea of "not fitting in"--although I suppose some of us my identify with that phrase more than others (esp. depending on the context/region of where we are).
In addition to being a wonderful prose writer, Rekdal is also an accomplished poet--her latest collection, The Invention of the Kaleidoscope (2007) is a testament to that. And here's a selection, "Bats" from her latest book:
Bats
by Paisley Rekdal
unveil themselves in dark.
They hang, each a jagged,
silken sleeve, from moonlit rafters bright
as polished knives. They swim
the muddled air and keen
like supersonic babies, the sound
we imagine empty wombs might make
in women who can’t fill them up.
A clasp, a scratch, a sigh.
They drink fruit dry.
And wheel, against feverish light flung hard
upon their faces,
in circles that nauseate.
Imagine one at breast or neck,
Patterning a name in driblets of iodine
that spatter your skin stars.
They flutter, shake like mystics.
They materialize. Revelatory
as a stranger’s underthings found tossed
upon the marital bed, you tremble
even at the thought. Asleep,
you tear your fingers
and search the sheets all night.
Monday, April 13, 2009
The sad, the despicable, the disappointing
I know my Saturday post seemed to be sunshine and bubbles, but even a glass-half full gal like me has to acknowledge that there are things I've been reading about that make me shake my head/cringe/roll my eyes/beat my head against a wall. Here are a few of the frustrating issues about race in America:
*Hey all you Asian people, change your names to make it easier for us simple-minded "Americans."
Texas Rep. Betty Brown (R-Terrell), during a questioning of expert witness Ramey Ko of the Organization of Chinese Americans (OCA), made several remarks that implied that Asian Americans were not real "American" citizens AND that they should change their names to make it easier on everyone else. Here's Brown:
"Do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here."
AND
"Can't you see that this is something that would make it a lot easier for both you and for people who are pollworkers, if there were some means by which you could adopt a name just for your poll identification purposes that would be easier for the Americans to deal with?"
Brown's questioning of Ko was on the issue of voter identification. She has, apparently, apologized, but it's more along the lines of "Oh crap--people are accusing me of being racist and insensitive and I'd better apologize and say I didn't mean to offend because I am a white person of good intentions" than an apology that signals that she truly understands why her comments were painful/damaging/and reeking of her white privilege. Click here to read the apology on Angry Asian Man and click here for the Huffington Post article (Thanks "M" and "D" for the heads up).
*Shame at my Alma Mater: PIKE not just about plaid and pearls but racial slurs and assaults.
On March 2, Vietnamese American Thanh Hong and a friend were assaulted outside of the PIKE house at UCSB after a several racial epithets/slurs were yelled at them from a balcony at the PIKE house. Click here for the initial story by the Daily Nexus (UCSB's student paper) and here for a follow-up where the police claim that there was only a "single" assailant. Which may, indeed, be true--but the fact that no one at the PIKE house came forward or better yet STOPPED their friend/fellow-brother (if the assailant turns out to be a PIKE--he may have only been a guest/friend of a PIKE--either way, the dude yelled racial slurs and then beat up an Asian American guy and NO ONE STOPPED HIM).
*Fear and intimidation: The Pro-Straight-Breeder-Marriage Campaign. Our Motto: We will scare the crap out of you so that you'll support a ban on gay marriage.
With the increasing good news of Iowa and Vermont's legislatures supporting gay marriage, we have to keep in mind that the forces of fear, anxiety, and intimidation (and can I also say just plain silliness?) are still out there in the form of the National Organization for Marriage (in this case, marriage between two adults of different genders--although I wonder what they would say about a transgendered man marrying a transvestite woman? Technically two different genders...Anyway, the Courage Campaign has the latest ad from NOM on their website (click here). It's pretty awful. This campaign uses a rhetoric of fear, intimidation, and danger to convince people that they should not support marriage of two loving adults who want to enjoy their lives together and be recognized by the state--to have the same rights as any other U.S. citizen.
*And now for something not-quite-so completely different:
"Barackophobia" by Jon Stewart/The Daily Show:
*Hey all you Asian people, change your names to make it easier for us simple-minded "Americans."
Texas Rep. Betty Brown (R-Terrell), during a questioning of expert witness Ramey Ko of the Organization of Chinese Americans (OCA), made several remarks that implied that Asian Americans were not real "American" citizens AND that they should change their names to make it easier on everyone else. Here's Brown:
"Do you think that it would behoove you and your citizens to adopt a name that we could deal with more readily here."
AND
"Can't you see that this is something that would make it a lot easier for both you and for people who are pollworkers, if there were some means by which you could adopt a name just for your poll identification purposes that would be easier for the Americans to deal with?"
Brown's questioning of Ko was on the issue of voter identification. She has, apparently, apologized, but it's more along the lines of "Oh crap--people are accusing me of being racist and insensitive and I'd better apologize and say I didn't mean to offend because I am a white person of good intentions" than an apology that signals that she truly understands why her comments were painful/damaging/and reeking of her white privilege. Click here to read the apology on Angry Asian Man and click here for the Huffington Post article (Thanks "M" and "D" for the heads up).
*Shame at my Alma Mater: PIKE not just about plaid and pearls but racial slurs and assaults.
On March 2, Vietnamese American Thanh Hong and a friend were assaulted outside of the PIKE house at UCSB after a several racial epithets/slurs were yelled at them from a balcony at the PIKE house. Click here for the initial story by the Daily Nexus (UCSB's student paper) and here for a follow-up where the police claim that there was only a "single" assailant. Which may, indeed, be true--but the fact that no one at the PIKE house came forward or better yet STOPPED their friend/fellow-brother (if the assailant turns out to be a PIKE--he may have only been a guest/friend of a PIKE--either way, the dude yelled racial slurs and then beat up an Asian American guy and NO ONE STOPPED HIM).
*Fear and intimidation: The Pro-Straight-Breeder-Marriage Campaign. Our Motto: We will scare the crap out of you so that you'll support a ban on gay marriage.
With the increasing good news of Iowa and Vermont's legislatures supporting gay marriage, we have to keep in mind that the forces of fear, anxiety, and intimidation (and can I also say just plain silliness?) are still out there in the form of the National Organization for Marriage (in this case, marriage between two adults of different genders--although I wonder what they would say about a transgendered man marrying a transvestite woman? Technically two different genders...Anyway, the Courage Campaign has the latest ad from NOM on their website (click here). It's pretty awful. This campaign uses a rhetoric of fear, intimidation, and danger to convince people that they should not support marriage of two loving adults who want to enjoy their lives together and be recognized by the state--to have the same rights as any other U.S. citizen.
*And now for something not-quite-so completely different:
"Barackophobia" by Jon Stewart/The Daily Show:
| The Daily Show With Jon Stewart | M - Th 11p / 10c | |||
| Baracknophobia - Obey | ||||
| ||||
Saturday, April 11, 2009
What Mixed Race America looks like in my town
I am a California gal (not counting the first 4 years spent in Flushing that is). But I have to say that I have really grown fond of the tiny town I live in, which sits adjacent to Southern U.
This morning I set out with my canvas bags to the local farmer's market. I passed by several families and couples walking their dogs, also headed to or from the farmer's market. I dropped off a load of clothes to a charity drop box at the gas station. I saw the local sculpture/metal artist's latest creations in his front yard--he has several interesting pieces, including a huge bronze head of Barack Obama. I waved hello to a pair of brothers who were sitting outside enjoying the spring sunshine--their family had once owned a big chunk of our tiny town, and I wondered if they saw, in their mind's eye, what it looked like before all the homes and town hall and other buildings were erected.
And one of the things I noticed walking to and from the farmer's market was the fact that I am not the only one. I suppose what I mean is, among the people I passed by, spoke to, waved, and bought fresh greens from this morning, not all of them were white or black, which is what my assumptions have long been about the South--that people are either white or black. But my tiny town is actually a fairly mixed race town. I passed by mixed race families and couples. I talked to mixed-race people at a cafe and the farmer's market. And as I was walking home, it dawned on me that I felt at home. I don't mean that I felt like I was in CA. I just mean that I felt fairly comfortable walking around on a sunny Saturday morning with my canvas bags full of greens (and some white irises that were still tight in their buds).
And even though I suspect that the drivers who wave at me from their cars either mistake me for that other Asian woman they know, perhaps they wave at me because I'm the Asian woman who lives in the green house on the corner and they want to be friendly.
[Aside: This is one thing that I've definitely noticed that is different about the South than other places I've lived, especially New England--total strangers will say hello to you or wave at you or tell you good morning or say "have a nice day." While walking my dog "B" I will have bus drivers and sanitation workers and the mail carriers honk and wave at me and "B" all the time. And people just wave and say Hi when you pass them by on the street. I must admit that it has taken me a while to adjust to all this casual friendliness, and for lack of a better word, it definitely feels very "Southern" to me.]
Either way, it's sort've nice living in a place where people do wave and say hi to you. There's a lot of discouraging things and disappointing things I could be blogging about with the topic of "mixed race America"--and I'll get to them, I'm sure, in the days and weeks ahead. But for today, I just wanted to share that I felt really good about where I live, and part of that good feeling has to do with feeling like my tiny town is sometimes a tiny vision of the kind of Mixed Race America that I want to live in.
This morning I set out with my canvas bags to the local farmer's market. I passed by several families and couples walking their dogs, also headed to or from the farmer's market. I dropped off a load of clothes to a charity drop box at the gas station. I saw the local sculpture/metal artist's latest creations in his front yard--he has several interesting pieces, including a huge bronze head of Barack Obama. I waved hello to a pair of brothers who were sitting outside enjoying the spring sunshine--their family had once owned a big chunk of our tiny town, and I wondered if they saw, in their mind's eye, what it looked like before all the homes and town hall and other buildings were erected.
And one of the things I noticed walking to and from the farmer's market was the fact that I am not the only one. I suppose what I mean is, among the people I passed by, spoke to, waved, and bought fresh greens from this morning, not all of them were white or black, which is what my assumptions have long been about the South--that people are either white or black. But my tiny town is actually a fairly mixed race town. I passed by mixed race families and couples. I talked to mixed-race people at a cafe and the farmer's market. And as I was walking home, it dawned on me that I felt at home. I don't mean that I felt like I was in CA. I just mean that I felt fairly comfortable walking around on a sunny Saturday morning with my canvas bags full of greens (and some white irises that were still tight in their buds).
And even though I suspect that the drivers who wave at me from their cars either mistake me for that other Asian woman they know, perhaps they wave at me because I'm the Asian woman who lives in the green house on the corner and they want to be friendly.
[Aside: This is one thing that I've definitely noticed that is different about the South than other places I've lived, especially New England--total strangers will say hello to you or wave at you or tell you good morning or say "have a nice day." While walking my dog "B" I will have bus drivers and sanitation workers and the mail carriers honk and wave at me and "B" all the time. And people just wave and say Hi when you pass them by on the street. I must admit that it has taken me a while to adjust to all this casual friendliness, and for lack of a better word, it definitely feels very "Southern" to me.]
Either way, it's sort've nice living in a place where people do wave and say hi to you. There's a lot of discouraging things and disappointing things I could be blogging about with the topic of "mixed race America"--and I'll get to them, I'm sure, in the days and weeks ahead. But for today, I just wanted to share that I felt really good about where I live, and part of that good feeling has to do with feeling like my tiny town is sometimes a tiny vision of the kind of Mixed Race America that I want to live in.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
