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SHAPING ETHNICITY
by Sadie Frankel
For me, ethnicity has always been fairly straightforward. I never gave it too much thought: why should it matter to me if my family came from other countries, when I live in America? I never realized that that is privilege speaking. For others — as well as for me, later in life — ethnicity is a topic that requires much more thought and weight internally.
Ethnicity is a complicated subject, made even more complicated by the fact that many people don’t understand the concept. Often, it is used interchangeably with race, which is a common misconception. While race is often linked with physical characteristics such as skin color, ethnicity is one’s identity that is defined by groups with common cultural attributes or backgrounds. Both are social constructs, created to categorize populations of people. With these terms come positive and negative repercussions: people have their own personal identities, but various groups often fall subject to discrimination.
For different people, ethnicity means different things. Some people readily accept their ethnicity, acknowledging and celebrating the various places of origin for them or their families. Others are unaware of their ethnicities, either because it does not mean a lot to them or they just do not know about their background. For many, ethnicity is something that requires a personal journey, as it is often difficult to come to terms with. It requires self-reflection and is not something that many can understand, even within themselves. I, a white woman with backgrounds from England, Norway, Austria, Canada, and Judaism can never know the difficulty BIPOC face when it comes to understanding and identifying with one’s background.
For the past few years, however, I have, to some extent, tried to understand how Judaism plays a role in my life. I know that my family comes from a Jewish background, with my grandfather on my dad’s side being Jewish, but how does that affect me? I have recently tried to educate myself on Judaism, giving myself an insight into the culture that accompanies it and what it means to my family and to others. For Sofia Attaway, a first-year writing, literature, and publishing major, her journey toward understanding and accepting her ethnicity has been complicated, as she grew up feeling as though she had to prove her identity to others.
“Mainly, ethnicity-wise, I identify as Colombian,” Attaway said. “I guess I’ve worded myself as being half-Colombian, half-white, which is not particularly true biologically, but my dad’s side is kind of a jumble of Americans and English people that I don’t particularly connect with because of my Colombian-ness.”
Growing up, Attaway felt separated from others and as though she didn’t quite fit in, particularly due to her mixed identity. “I guess identity-wise I’ve always felt like I didn’t quite have anybody I related to except for my brother because he’s literally biologically just like me,” she said. These challenges made it difficult for her to reconcile with the way that she was perceived and with the way that she saw herself.
From a young age, when Attaway told people she was Hispanic, they did not believe her. “At the moment it was really jarring,” she said.
For Charlize Tungol, a freshman journalism major, her relationship with her ethnicity has been complicated. As a quarter Mexican and three-quarters Filipino woman, Tungol has attempted to connect with both sides of her family heritage.
“I feel like I’ve always tried to become more intertwined with my Hispanic culture since I know that it wasn’t really enforced as a child,” she said. “My family was pretty white-washed as I was growing up and even more so now…So it was really a personal responsibility if I wanted to become closer with my ethnic identity.”
Despite trying to be comfortable and connected with her ethnic identity, Tungol still felt uncomfortable with the way people viewed her. “I feel like, as an Asian woman, I was still kind of fetishized and it’s like, you kind of fall under this category that makes you feel belittled but it confuses you because…you feel like you’re not totally a part of that group yourself,” she explained.
The fetishization of Asian women has troubled Tungol greatly, making her feel less comfortable with her AAPI identity and more inclined to identify with her Hispanic culture, as she feels it makes her more accepted.
This is not an isolated incident in growing up ethnically diverse. First-year visual media arts major Anya Perel-Arkin, also struggled with outward versus inward identity. Being a quarter Japanese, a quarter Mexican, and half Russian-Jewish, Perel-Arkin felt confused as she tried to come to terms with how these three identities represented her. In middle school, she found herself being lumped in with all Asian ethnicities, being told that she had “Chinese eyes” and that she looked like other people who were also Asian. Because of this, Perel-Arkin had a hard time finding pride in her identity. “I started to repress that part of myself. I would not tell people that I was Asian or Hispanic for many years,” she said. This lack of acceptance toward herself led to her trying to come across as whiter, neglecting her heritage and even feeling negatively toward her own identity.
Judaism has also played an important, if complicated, role in Perel-Arkin’s life. Being Asian and Mexican, people would not believe that she could also be Jewish. She said that she has been told countless times that she does not look Jewish, and therefore cannot be.
Jake Shafran, a freshman visual media arts major and a Jewish man, has also experienced difficulties with his ethnicity. As Judaism is an ethnicity, he has felt othered by the way that people view him and his religion.
Jews are often the victims of white supremacists’ actions, but are also white, making their position in society complicated. “If I wear a Jewish star, I am a potential target of hate, or if I go to a temple, I’m a potential target of hate, but if I don’t, then I’m not,” Shafran said when trying to explain the confusing way that Jews are and also are not accepted into society.
Charlie Williams, a first-year writing, literature, and publishing major who is also Jewish, has found it somewhat difficult to understand his ethnicity and the role that it plays in his life. Being more culturally Jewish than religiously, Williams has not always felt “a huge sense of kinship to the corporate Jewish community, the one that kind of dictates how Judaism is perceived,” because of his individual views.
Both Shafran and Williams attributed a lot of their upbringing to Judaism and to what they have learned because of the community, explaining that even though they have felt othered at points in their lives, they have also had comfort in their ethnicity and the people who surround them.
Ethnicity can be complicated for most people. Trying to understand where one comes from and what culture they feel close to is a journey; however, it is important to keep working toward self-acceptance, a sentiment that is shared by all of those interviewed.
Perel-Arkin explained that she has decided to not allow others to take away or manipulate her identity. “Fuck everyone, I am a salad, I’m awesome, and I really want to highlight this part of myself more,” she said. She has since been more open about her ethnicity, no longer hiding who she is and where she comes from.
Attaway also has become more comfortable with the way that she is perceived and the way that she identifies. “I feel like being Colombian isn’t something I need to fight for anymore,” she said. “It can be part of me, as it has always been, without me having to wrestle for it, because I own it and I know that I own it and that’s what matters.”
PAISLEY AND PASTELS
by Elisa Davidson
Finding beauty in your life has gotten a lot easier thanks to this new life hack: aesthetics. They dominate Instagram feeds and Pinterest boards, line the walls of clothing stores and take over people’s bedrooms. Many of us love the colors and unique styles they present, which bring a sense of brightness to our lives. But why Gen Z’s sudden obsession with aesthetics? This question can be answered by looking at the coinage of the term.
The definition of modern aesthetics was researched by Dr. Yuriko Saito, who wrote, “Everyday aesthetics continues this trajectory of widening scope by including objects, events and activities that constitute people’s daily life.” Things as simple as going on a picnic can now contribute to the aesthetic life of your dreams: spread out a plaid picnic blanket and eat elaborate cakes, forgetting about life’s responsibilities. “For me, songs and media are so powerful in how they world-build that I try to seek out these aesthetics in my life and my own world. They make me feel a positive form of escapism and that the world I see every day isn’t limited. Aesthetics are beautiful and I love to immerse them in my real life,” says sophomore Jess Adair.
Living aesthetically has become a trend, and there is so much to learn about it. Not just in American culture; around the world, new aesthetics continue to surface, each completely different from the next. Aesthetics inspire avant-garde fashion trends, further tying together the concepts of art and life. Adding more creativity to your life has never been more accessible, as exemplified by the thousands of pictures on Instagram with perfect backgrounds to perpetuate different styles. Aesthetics have become a way of living, a way of finding more excitement and color in the ordinary.
Light academia has found its place in pop culture, stressing a European, literary, philosophical and academically-positive view of the world. “It’s not always easy to replicate Insta posts, but literally just picking a cute preppy outfit and going to class, you already feel like you’re living those aesthetic college-girl vibes,” says junior theater and performance major Sophia Inez. After incorporating an aesthetic into your daily life, going to class is exciting; listening to classical music feels like a power move; even doing homework plays into the light academia lifestyle.
Some trends, like the Vaporwave aesthetic, take inspiration from musical styles, and then meld this style with more visual cues that have gained steady popularity. The gentle blues, greens, and pinks of this aesthetic do a lot more than look pretty. Providing nostalgic images, bold Japanese prints, and ’70s to ’90s 3D graphics, Vaporwave attempts to critique the nature of capitalism in more modern society, depicting the old and the new simultaneously. Unusually, this aesthetic gained a great deal of traction globally through online communities like 4chan and Soundcloud, and slowly spread to gain popularity in more mainstream culture in the 2020s.
Afrofuturism has also made a splash in recent media, becoming more widespread after the release of the movie “Black Panther.” This aesthetic makes use of a rich color palette and traditional African styles tied together with a technological look. Afrofuturism has taken on a more cultural significance in literature, clothing, and music than most aesthetics do, becoming more popular in media not just for younger generations. While commonly used in
the film and music industries, this aesthetic has become a more ubiquitous cultural phenomenon than previously seen. Most examples of Afrofuturism are popular in the U.S., but it is also growing steadily in Africa as well, as artists begin to experiment with it in their craft. Photographers like Osborne Macharia have begun to utilize Afrofuturistic themes in their art. Macharia, who is from Nairobi, Kenya, published many photographic works melding Maasai traditional practices with science fiction. A rise in Afrofuturist presence in fashion has also been seen, as Black designers have begun incorporating these styles into avant-garde pieces and showcasing this mix of tradition and modernity on the runway. As this aesthetic gains popularity, it also develops thousands of subgenres and variations where people add their own unique twist or flourish to the style.
Cottagecore takes on a much different role, focusing more on a plant-loving, farmer’s lifestyle. This aesthetic focuses on caring for others, plants, animals, and people. This is very inspired by other nature-based aesthetics, which emphasize living comfortably with plants in a quiet sort of place. This aesthetic typically favors a romantic style and hyperfeminine clothing, portraying a more soothing vibe. “There’s something very comforting about slow living and farm life for me that cottagecore provides, so I try to keep that energy about me by surrounding myself with things that remind me of it,” says Karina Jha, a sophomore writing, literature, and publishing major.
All of these aesthetics play a role in our lives now, making them more fun, exciting, and bearable; not only that, but they make us more connected. As we all try to add our own twists to these aesthetics and make them our own, we also show the world how colorful we can be. So as you get up in the morning, don’t forget to add a bit of a sparkle to your life. Remember: anything can be part of the aesthetic!
EVERLASTING MYTHOLOGY
by Annalisa Hansford
Mythology comes from the Greek words “mythos,” meaning myth, and “logos,” meaning speech, literally forming the meaning “speech of the myth.” Myths have been passed down orally by word of mouth from generation to generation and from parent to child, and is the reason they are still present in our lives today. A myth can comfort an audience, inform the reader about a culture’s values, relay an experience and can help the audience make sense of the world.
I recently read a poem by Stephanie Chang titled, “Ghazal for Moon Maiden,” published in the literary journal “COUNTERCLOCK,” which reimagines the Chinese myth of Chang’e and Hou Yi. The legend starts off with Chang’e, the Chinese moon goddess, living in heaven among mortals. She is banished to live on earth when she accidentally breaks a delicate porcelain jar. While on earth, she became friends with a hunter from another village named Hou Yi. One day ten suns rose in the sky and he shot down nine of them, in an attempt to save the earth. Hou Yi became king and eventually, he and Chang’e got married. The Gods gave Hou Yi an elixir that would make him immortal, but Chang’e took it for herself. She jumped out a window to escape from her husband but started to float towards the moon. My favorite line from Chang’s poem which encapsulates this myth so beautifully is, “My voice silvers into a thousand wind-chimes: An omen / I failed to foresee, as Hou Yi hunts a theater of suns, savors / all nine screams.”
I love how Chang writes from the perspective of the moon goddess Chang’e. Chang’e takes the pill that will make her immortal, but it means that her lover will remain a mortal on Earth while she’s immortal in heaven. It begs the question: Is immortality worth being alone, without your lover?
This poem exemplifies how today’s art is constantly inspired by myths from hundreds of years ago. Books popular on Tiktok and YouTube are often reimaginings of Greek mythology. Madeline Miller, the author of “The Song of Achilles” and “Circe,” retells “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” using the perspectives of different characters. By using ancient myths in our art, we continue the tradition of passing down legends so that people hundreds of years from now will be familiar with them. We can learn a lot about a culture’s values and beliefs through its mythology, but mythology can also be a way of critiquing the society of a specific time period.
Another myth I find intriguing is about Thessaloniki the mermaid, which comes from Greek mythology. There are many variations of this myth, but all versions begin with her stepbrother, Alexander the Great, searching for the Fountain of Youth, which is water that makes a person become immortal. There is one version where he brings back the water and washes his sister’s hair with it; in another version, Thessaloniki drinks the water before her brother can so he curses her by turning her into a mermaid. Despite these variations, the tale always ends the same way. When ships pass by, Thessaloniki asks the sailors whether or not her brother is alive. She lets the sailors pass by safely if they answer that he is alive. If they answer that he isn’t, she becomes so overcome with grief that her tears form a sea storm.
“MY GRANDMOTHER USED I came familiar with this myth after reading Gaia RaTO TELL ME TURKISH jan’s poem, “Self-Portrait as Mermaid or Dead Girl,” pubSTORIES THAT SHE RElished in the literary journal Hobart. One line from this poem that effortlessly emMEMBERED BY MEMO- bodies this timeless myth is, “so she walked into the sea, RY BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T breathed in / so much water she grew gills, drowned / in so much shadow she sproutHAVE ACCESS TO TURKISH ed scales.” It intertwines the myth of Thessaloniki and the BOOKS IN THE STATES “ grief she experienced when her brother died with Rajan’s own experience with mourning loved ones. The story of Thessaloniki and the myth of Chang’e and Hou Yi both explore similar themes: love and mortality. Thessaloniki, an immortal, mourns the death of her mortal brother, raising the question: Is immortality worth the loneliness and grief? What I find interesting about this myth is how many versions exist. When people pass down myths orally for generations, someone is bound to alter or change the story in some way. Folklore and mythology play a large role in our upbringings and can vary based on culture or religion. Camila Perez Herrera, a first-year media studies major, said that her mom used to tell her that “when there was thunder, that meant God was moving his furniture around.” Libby Wilkins, also a freshman media studies major, told me she heard a slightly different variation of that myth. “I used to be scared of thunderstorms as a kid so my mom told me God was bowling when it thundered,” she said. Although these aren’t as elaborate or detailed as some of the other myths discussed, it is interesting how these myths came about. “My mom honestly probably made that up just to make me feel better as a kid,” Wilkins said. While some myths are passed down with the goal of relaying an important message, some are told as a means of comfort. When I asked Marissa Vilanova, a first-year writing, literature, and publishing major, what myths she grew up hearing, she told me she couldn’t remember the exact tales. “My grandmother used to tell me Turkish stories that she remembered by memory because she didn’t have access to Turkish books in the States,” Vilanova said. “The stories were told in Turkish so I don’t remember them anymore. I think there was one about a witch, an apple, and maybe a bear?”
If you’re looking for mythology-based pieces of literature to consume, I would recommend the literary journal Corvid Queen. They refer to themselves as a “journal of feminist fairy tales, folklore, & myths.” The journal publishes fiction, poetry, and creative non-fiction, reinventing ancient myths, and aims to publish “stories that represent a wide range of cultures, identities, and viewpoints.” I would also recommend Stephanie Chang’s poetry because a lot of her work is inspired by Chinese mythology. One poem in particular I recommend is “Haunt,” published in the Hobart, inspired by the Chinese goddess of forgetfulness, Meng Po. And if you’re looking for a piece of long-form literature to consume, check out “The Secret History” by Donna Tart, which is inspired by mythology and has references to the classics.
Myths from centuries ago continue to be passed down and talked about today. Many forms of art are inspired by or based upon these ancient stories which keeps them alive in our current society. I encourage you to read a myth from a culture you’re unfamiliar with. Create a piece of art inspired by a piece of mythology you know well. Or make up your own myth! Mythology is an intricate form of storytelling that encapsulates all aspects of the human condition, and we must ensure that it never dies out.
ETHICAL TOURISM: Is It Possible? by Ellye Sevier
“Tourism has a lot of power, positive power, and it also has the ability to destroy like nothing else when it’s not done right,” says Lebawitt Lily Girma, global travel reporter for Skift online magazine. This is more important than ever to remember.
For many, the stress of the pandemic has only increased feelings of wanderlust, with our “new normal” prompting the need to escape. Along with the leveling COVID-19 risks, vaccines, and booster shots, many of us want to return to leisure travel. But before we do, it’s important to take this time to reflect on the tourism industry and our role as tourists.
The tourism industry has always been steeped in white supremist and colonialist practices and attitudes, a white savior mentality, and racist ‘othering,’ not to mention issues of environmental harm and unsustainability. These practices thrive under increasingly globalized capitalism, something that puts marginalized communities and communities in the global South at particular risk.
The terms “global South” and “global North” refer loosely to the separate hemispheres and are simple terms used to talk about different geopolitical areas, global politics and colonialism. “The global South tends to be places that were colonized by places in the global North,” said Bani Amor, freelance travel writer and lecturer. Amor describes the global South as therefore typically having less political and economic power and resources, which perpetuates a colonialist relationship of global North power dominance over the global South. This results in the global South’s lack of power and sovereignty, particularly of local and indigenous populations, Amor said. Most popular tourist destinations like the Carribean, Africa, Hawaii, and South America are a part of the global South. These power dynamics beg the question: can travel be ethical? Before tackling this question, we have to distinguish the difference between the tourism industry, travel, and travel culture, Amor points out. “[Tourism is] the industry of selling tours and having hotels, all the itineraries and the business aspect of it,” Amor said. “However, travel culture includes travel media, the history of the ways that we engage in travel history of migration.” They also pointed out that all of our lives are shaped by travel and colonialism, and that people have always moved around the world throughout history. It is important to remember that the term “travel” also includes migration and immigration, not just the default assumption of leisure travel for pleasure. For the purposes of this article, the critique of “travel” will be referring to leisure travel and travel culture.
Before we can begin discussing the possibility of a future with ethical travel, we first have to acknowledge the harm that the tourism industry perpetuates against communities worldwide — especially in the global South — and the history of harm, violence, and oppression of colonialism that it stems from. The history of colonialism began largely with the Age of Discovery with global North countries traveling south and violently stealing land from indigenous peoples, committing genocide, and often times enslaving, or forcefulling Westernizing, survivors.
Justine Abigail Yu, the marketing and communications director for Wanderful, a global lifestyle brand and online community focusing on uplifting and supporting women through travel and connection, has focused a large amount of her work on discussions of decolonizing travel through storytelling, educating, and community-building. She is an advocate for equity and anti-oppression, her mission being “to stir the conscience and spur social change.” Yu applies her 3DR approach to all of her work, which means to “decolonize,” “disrupt,” “dismantle,” and “rebuild.”
She says that this approach is important to apply to the tourism industry and individual tourists’ approach to their own travel.
“For me, decolonizing is always the first, and probably the most difficult step because it requires an honest assessment of yourself, which can be really hard,” Yu said. “It’s easy to criticize other structures, other people, but to really look inwards and understand how you yourself may carry these privileges, how you yourself may perpetuate systems of oppression, can be a hard thing to do.” She says that, on an individual level, it is crucial for travelers to begin to decolonize their mindsets through the process of unlearning internal biases and ways of thought perpetuated by historically colonial structures.
For many travelers from the global North, like American tourists that make up 11.3 percent of all annual global tourism, their identities provide privilege in the most popular tourist destinations in the global South, like the Caribbean, Hawaii, or Africa. This is especially true for white travelers, whose privilege is steeped in the violent history of colonialism and still remains through global oppressive power structures. Rwothomio Gabriel Kabandole, team member of No White Saviors, an advocacy campaign focusing on anti-racism and equity directed work and dismantling the white savior mentality, explains these colonial structures and mindsets create the “white savior mentality” among many tourists, especially those who are white.
Kabandole uses conservation efforts and climate change in Africa as examples of how white saviorism operates in tourism. The majority of these conservationist groups, he says, are white. He says they come to Africa to be a “voice for the voiceless” and to “save the animals,” when in reality, indigenous peoples in Africa have been living in balance with the native animals and land for thousands of years. The same goes for climate change.
“When you look at climate change, for example, the African continent is literally the lowest emitter of greenhouse gasses,” Kabandole said. Yet local communities and local ecosystems in Africa are going to be some of the worst affected by climate change. This, he says, is something rarely addressed by white saviors in conservation work. It is also largely ignored by the tourism industry, which is responsible for 8 percent of the world’s greenhouse gas emissions according to Sustainable Travel International.
Lebawit Lily Girma, global travel reporter for Skift, an online magazine, has focused a large part of her career on sustainable travel. She agrees that global North driven sustainability efforts often ignore the deeply sustainable prac-
tices that indigenous peoples in the global South have been doing for centuries. “Sustainability is an elitist discipline,” Girma said. From her experience working in the Caribbean, she sees how tourism sustainability efforts, such as certifications for sustainable hotels, tours, and organizations, often overlook indigenous owned tourism operations. The certifications are also too expensive to be made accessible to locally owned businesses. This, she says, exposes how Western driven ideas of sustainability, especially in the tourism industry, discredit indigenous voices and practices.
Tourism also harms indigenous communities through the commodification of their culture. Girma explains that tour companies often sell indigenous cultures that are not their own as an experience. “It not only dilutes the culture, but it also takes income away from those who really are from that indigenous culture,” Girma said. She calls this tourist-washing, or white-washing, and notes it is extremely harmful.
As a travel writer of color, Girma observed inclusivity issues of the travel writing and tourism industries first-hand. She says that most tourism boards in the Caribbean are primarily white, and that the boards and the governments favor white journalists. This skews the narrative, perpetuating cycles of white power and dominance in colonized communitties even through storytelling. While she acknowledges that these spaces are becoming more diverse, there is still a long way to go, especially in terms of content.
By uplifting local voices in the industry, Girma believes it will help better inform travelers. “I think that consumers really are not malicious people, they want to travel, but they don’t necessarily know what’s going on in that place,” she said. “They need somebody to really tell them how to have fun and a great time while at the same same time keeping in mind the impact they’re having on the environment and the destination.”
In terms of how you can help support the undoing of these complicated and oppressive systems and structures, that is where it gets really complicated. But never underestimate the power of one person. “I’ll tell you that I have more faith in the individual, being able to change and be informed than corporations,” Girma said. “My faith is in the consumer, and my faith is in educating the consumer to do better.”
You may wish for a “how-to” list with manageable bullet points on “how to become an ethical traveler” and how to do your part in decolonizing tourism. Unfortunately, a step-by-step guide is not possible.
The majority of this work starts within. It starts with self-educating, unlearning internal biases, relearning global histories, questioning the existing power structures, observing how they help or hinder our lives, what privileges we have, and what impact that has on others. That is the beginning of decolonizing this narrative of travel culture, moving towards decolonizing travel and rebuilding a more ethical kind of tourism.
When considering the pandemic, Girma poses the question: “How do we tap into the lessons of the last two years to make sure that we’re not going back to the same sort of superficial narratives that are driven by the West?”
Individually, this may mean tapping into the learnings from Black Lives Matter, Land Back, Stop Asian Hate, and many other movements that rose to prominence within the last several years. Especially for white travelers, this means a continued critical examination of our own identities and the ways that we move through the world and what ways that can be, even inadvertently, causing harm to Black, Indigenous, and other marginalized communities.
The typical narratives of ethical travel often include buying from and supporting local business and buying from Blackowned businesses while abroad. Girma agrees that this is important, suggesting also to source locals for your tours and experiences for a more ethical and authentic travel experience. Kebandole also suggests buying and reading books from Black authors in your journey of self-education.
While these examples may seem like simple fixes in creating ethical travel, this is hardly the case. Amor points out that these narratives are problematic and can perpetuate colonialism by keeping tourist-heavy places tourism dependent, and keeping locals and Indigenous and Black communities in a perpetual servitude role to the primarily white tourist. Decolonization is not top-down, Amor says, instead it should be a grassroots movement beginning with empowerment of the local communities, which goes beyond buying local.
While people are thinking about engaging in more ethical travel, Amor urges people to first apply their learning at home because these issues are relevant everywhere, including our own backyards. This includes learning and practicing anti-racism all the time, learning about Indigenous communities whose land you may live on, examining your and your community’s internal biases and privileges, and more. This process is ongoing. “Start learning and start having conversations, especially before you decide to travel next,” Amor said. “I think that’s going to inform how we move through the world, and how we have these conversations.”
