Constructed: Reflections on Race
Social Theories of Race The Bay School of San Francisco Spring 2022
Students Ari Asfaw ‘22 Sophia Bell ‘22 Jackie Fernandes ‘22 Coco Holcomb ‘22 Skye Holmgren-Lee ‘22 Juliana Hung ‘22 Emily Kim ‘23 Ella Lazare ‘23 Gabi Leal ‘22 Lydia Milstein ‘22 Nat Navarro ‘23 Ashley Petri ‘22 Lila Shamsi ‘22 Rebecca Silva ‘22 Chiara Sorani ‘22 Treya Timpkins ‘22 Dee Watkins ‘22 Kai Wong ‘22
Foreword In Lak’ech Tú eres mi otro yo. You are my other me.
Si te hago daño a ti, If I do harm to you,
Me hago daño a mi mismo. I do harm to myself.
Si te amo y respeto, If I love and respect you,
Social Theories of Race and Difference is/was a class taught by Mr. Jackson. Although this class will be on a temporary hiatus due to his departure, the Social Theories class wanted to create this zine in order to reflect on the knowledge we’ve accumulated over this semester. This class has been an incredibly transformative experience for me; the open dialogue we’ve shared in the units we’ve covered has truly added to my own knowledge of what race means and all of its intersections.
Me amo y respeto yo. I love and respect myself.
By Luis Valdez
For me, to understand my place in the world and how I must navigate it, learning about race is imperative.
This class was not my first exposure to understanding race, but it was a necessary stop in my larger journey. There were so many parallels drawn from our individual and collective experiences at Bay that at times we’d spend entire class periods unpacking these situations (even as they actively arose). I hope that future classes at Bay will be required to take this course (or something similar to it) as topics like Critical Race Theory face censorship. In our Asian-American studies unit, a documentarian named Grace lee traveled across the world in search of other Grace Lees. While it seems like a silly concept, it was about exploring heterogeneity amongst Asian-Americans, namely Chinese and Korean-Americans. Heterogeneity is a term used to describe the diversity of cultures and ethnic groups within the label Asian-American, but I also think heterogeneity is present in all aspects of of our lives. As a graduating senior, I want to end this foreword with this: each and every person you come across, no matter how vapid or annoying you might perceive them as, has an entire complex life that you may never see. This isn’t to say you have to be friends with everyone, but empathy is a crucial aspect to learning how to unpack internalized racism. As you peruse the pages of this zine, I hope you enjoy and appreciate the handiwork by 18 students as we document our personal stories. Thank you, Ari Asfaw ‘22
Theory is a balm: Reflections from Mr. Jackson As I write this the Sunday before the last week of the spring ‘22 semester, four mass shootings have occurred in the U.S. within the week. The first was a targeted attack at a salon in Dallas, Texas where three Korean American women were injured. The second is a white supremacist attack at a grocery store in Buffalo, NY. The community is predominantly Black and so are most of the eleven victims, including seventy-sevenyear-old, Ms. Pearly, who was gunned down while shopping for groceries. The shooter is a young white man who is 18-years-old. The impact of ideologies based on race is not lost on me in these moments. It reminds me why I can’t get race, its construction and the material effects off my mind. It is the reason that I went to San Francisco State for the Master of Arts in Ethnic Studies as a young man who just had to make sense of the complex experiences in my life—all implicated by race. One of the sparks of my racial curiosity started at the beginning of my undergraduate academic career. I landed at UC Davis as a wide-eyed eighteen-year-old in the fall of 1998. Prior to my arrival, the Affirmative Action Initiative was passed in 1996 and was a cleverly marketed proposition that banned affirmative action in public institutions in California. Subsequently, UC Davis has had a percentage of around 2% Black Americans to date. I now know as I did then that a threatening narrative about race was at play in the proposition and the beliefs that led to its passing. I was also beginning to understand white supremacy as an endemic framework for all people socially groomed in the West, myself included. The person who authored the bill was a Black man
named Ward Connerly. Initially, I could not understand how someone who survived Jim Crow would come to author such a bill. It was the language of bell hook’s framework of imperialist white supremacist capitalist patriarchy that helped me to understand what was going on. It all clicked for me that the systems of oppression from racism, sexism, ableism, cissexism, heterosexism, nativism and so many more were happening simultaneously and steeped in structures like media, the criminal justice system, education, health care and so many other systems buttressed by capitalism. This was my “ah-hah” moment and ever since, I have been called by something bigger than myself to proselytize, not the good news of this reality but the ability to “read the world” as Paolo Freire asserts.
Ethnic studies is the lens that has helped me to make sense of social complexities. When a massacre by an extremist steeped in white supremacist beliefs happens, I am always saddened but never shocked. My education has taught me better and what prevents me from hopelessness is knowing that since the creation of ethnic studies, several generations have been taught the ideas and theories that help to deconstruct and dismantle what often feels overwhelming. The experience of teaching Theories of Race and Difference at the Bay School of San Francisco, with this class of mostly seniors (‘22) and a sprinkle of juniors (‘23) has reminded me of this calling and impact.
Early in the semester, as I went through the typical rollout for the class, a student inquired if there would be guest speakers? I responded, “huh, I’ve never thought about that.” Therein began this process of thoughtful and dynamic feedback. It led to a guest speaker who is a specialist in each of our units, including Bay’s own Rachel Shaw (Whiteness Studies), Dr. Saida Grundy at Boston University (Black Studies), Dr. Rose Soza War Soldier at Sacramento State (American Indian Studies), Dr. Amanda Ellis at the University of Houston (Latine Studies & English Literature), Dr. Luciano Toska at The University of Kansas (Brazilian Literature and Culture) and Dr. Amy Sueyoshi, Dean of the College of Ethnic Studies at San Francisco State University (Asian American Studies & Ethnic Studies). I also consulted with Dr. John Tofik Karam at The University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign (Brazilian Studies).
When grappling with the various background knowledge and lived experiences, we had a bumpy start to the semester. This led to some open discussions early on about what it means to engage in difficult conversations about race. White students shared the fear of getting something wrong when sharing in class and students of color reflected on their
fatigue of navigating a predominantly white institution. It was a perfect storm for difficult discussions that would eventually catapult the learning and growth within our class community. This also led to weekly anonymous feedback about the class, amongst other elements never incorporated in prior classes. Ultimately, the zine that you are reading is a reflection of the creative minds of this class. Traditionally, the class would culminate with a traditional college-inspired final examination. Students thought a zine would be a much better way to end and would offer a legacy, as the class will be on hiatus after my departure. I share this to name the ways that I have learned from this extraordinary group of young minds. I hope you capture a glimpse of how the theories and theorists manifest in their contributions to this zine. I hope this work inspires you to dig deep into the how, what and why in moments of racial terror and the more implicit day-to-day encounters with white supremacy. This zine is an offering of reflection about the ways each and every one of us is implicated by the social construct called race that has very real material impacts. I believe that theory is a balm that helps to soothe the aches of the soul by breathing life into what we already knew but did not have words to describe, in addition, theory illuminates all that we have yet to see. In solidarity,
Abram Jackson, M.A., MAT The Bay School of San Francisco 2015 - 2022
When the Solidarity is Thick I am a Black woman and former high school English teacher who struggled to maintain what bell hooks (2003) called an “integrity of being”--or being truthful to my sense of self in a system that is designed to silence and assimilate that self. I write this zine entry from a beautiful oak table lit by California sunshine at Stanford University, instead of my old cozy classroom of high school juniors huddled together to read between the lines of Native Son. I haven’t “given up” teaching per se, but I’ve instead shifted from one intervention—directly battling antiblackness through educating and mentoring high school students—to another: researching the amazing work that Black teachers like Mr. Jackson are doing to interrupt the roots of American education. Those roots include settler colonialism, chattel slavery, American exceptionalism, capitalist logics, and carcerality. After being a part of this class, I believe more strongly than ever that having theory to name the phenomena that we see, to interrupt that these things just are “normal” and understand that they are just normalized, are important steps to address the inequities we see. It has been wonderful to be a part of a classroom community that is grappling with all of the same things I am doing in my own doctoral studies-- and I can’t wait to read newspaper articles about the various ways that everyone is making a positive difference in the lives of their communities. My biggest “ah ha” of the class is the fact that so much learning can happen when what Liu and Shange (2018) call thick solidarity is prioritized. Thick solidarity is the “the radical belief in the inherent value of each other’s lives despite never being able to fully understand or fully share in the experience of those lives” (p. 160). I definitely felt this type of solidarity when I both expressed my own experiences, and when I learned from others. And for that, I am grateful. Thank you for letting me be a part of the journey. In Solidarity, Jess
Unit 1 (What is Race? What is Ethnic Studies? Response By Chiara Sorani ‘22
My “ah-ha” moment this unit was finally learning about the differences between and nuances of race, ethnicity, and nationality. I feel I’ve always heard these phrases being tossed around interchangeably, but never learned what they meant or where they originated, which I find extremely interesting and telling about our society. I was surprised to learn the extent in which race, phenotypes, and all other related terms were social constructs after reading portions of “Basic Concepts in the Study of Racial and Ethnic Relations.” Here, I learned that “racial definitions are not fixed essences that last forever, but instead are temporary constructions that are shaped in social and political struggles in particular times and in particular societies. Racial definitions can change and even disappear” (Feagin 8). This passage cemented what I had learned in American Studies last year: the group/people in power would do anything to continue to stay on top, no matter what it meant for others. The reading then went on to describe different marginalized groups in the early 20th century in America that have since been accepted into the broader “white” majority group: Italian Americans, Irish Americans, and “Jewish Europeans” (to an extent because there is obviously still widespread anti-Semitism). I find it so interesting how certain things can change in a matter of a few decades, while others are so deeply rooted in our society. Ethnically, I belong to all three of those groups, but my Jewish heritage is the only one that continues to be oppressed. Personally, I am curious to explore more about the nuances between Jewish descent and religion, because I feel it’s such a large part of my identity and family history I don’t know much about. Another big “ah-ha” moment I had was while watching the “Race: Power of Illusion” videos and hearing students say they all thought race was biological because they weren’t ever taught otherwise. According to the reading, any two humans share “about 99.8% of their genetic material” (Feagin 7), which shows just how much race is a construct. I’ve been thinking a lot about the 8 I’s since after the first day of this class, both for myself and the ones I know about my immediate family since I can’t know all parts of someone’s identity or self-perception. Although race isn’t technically “real,” it affects us all every day, whether it’s positively or negatively. My younger sister is adopted from Guatemala, and growing up, I never really thought about how she was treated differently than me by other people, either strangers or even close relatives. I now understand the great amount of privilege I have to be able to say that. When learning about the different waves of racial theories (the melting pot ideology, color-blind era, etc.), I thought about what would apply in my relationship with my sister, because I don’t think I was being consciously colorblind, I was just a seven-year-old kid. I have only just started thinking more about this, going back to moments in our childhood that rubbed me the wrong way, and I want to be able to reflect with more knowledge in future units in this class, because I want to learn what I can do to be an ally for my sister and others.
Power/Target Group Chart Power Group
Target Group
System of Oppression
White people
People of Color, BIPOC
Racism
Men
Women
Sexism
U.S. Citizens
Foreign born immigrants
Nativism
Able bodied people
Disabled people
Ableism
Heterosexual people
LGBQ
Heterosexism
Cisgender people
Trans, non-binary & intersex people
Cissexism
Christian people
Non-Christian people
Islamophobia, anti-Semitism
Owning class/Wealthy People
Working class people
Classism
Older people
Young people
Ageism
Light skin people
Dark skin people
Colorism
In the first weeks of this class, we were introduced to this chart showing power. We did this to recognize our own biases and places where we do or do not hold power. I invite you to try this out for yourself and the pieces of your own identity.
I’ve Got Salad in my Teeth By: Gabriela Miotto Leal, ‘22
Ethnicity theory argues that race is a social category and is only one of several factors in determining ethnicity. The other factors that describe shared culture are the practices, values, and beliefs of a group. This might include shared language, religion, and traditions, among other commonalities. The U.S. was coined the melting pot, effectively describing the process of cultural assimilation. Cultural assimilation is the process by which members of an ethnic minority group lose cultural characteristics that distinguish them from the dominant cultural group or take on the cultural characteristics of another group. Essentially, this means a loss of all or many characteristics which make the immigrants different. The region or society where this assimilation occurs is referred to as a “melting pot.” The problem with the melting pot is that it prevents the propagation of culture; it diminishes the wholeness of what living in this country actually means; it devalues the need for greater cross-cultural understanding; and it takes away an integral and beautiful part of our nation: our diversity. The minority group of people are singled out and forced (either explicitly or implicitly) to lose a part of themselves in having to adapt to American culture. The melting pot paradigm reinforces oppressive structures presently existing within society while blaming the victims of those structures for their own oppression. In essence, individuals with power and privilege impose a system that protects their way of life from criticism from those in marginalized groups. Therefore liberation from oppression can only occur when those struggling for a voice cease trying to assimilate into something that they are not. In reality, the metaphor of a “melting pot” is no longer useful. Instead, America is more closely a “salad bowl.” We are all together, as one, but we also all have our distinct cultures. Compared to the melting pot, the Salad Bowl theory maintains the unique identities of individuals that would otherwise be lost to assimilation. The immediate advantage of the Salad Bowl theory is that it acknowledges the discrete identities and cultural differences of a multicultural society (we still retain our identity and autonomy but within the larger being).
Ah-Ha’s Lydia Milstein, ‘22
I had many “ah-ha” moments in this unit and though I like to think I have a solid understanding of racism, I am consistently finding out new facts about it. My main “ah-ha” moment occurred during our White fragility reading (before we took it apart and disliked it as a class). Robin DiAngelo creates a list of triggers of white fragility, a time when a white person may feel an amount of stress when a topic comes up and may resort to “defensive moves”. Though most of her points made me pause and reflect, the largest reflection I had was on two of them, “Receiving feedback that one’s behavior had a racist impact” (DiAngelo, 57) and “A fellow white not providing agreement with one's interpretations” (DiAngelo, 57). These stood out to me because I know, in my life, I have been around racism and have chosen not to speak up so as not to anger the other person, and the times I have stood up it ends with an argument. I have actively chosen not to engage because I thought I had no part in the discussion, that race wasn't my problem. While reading In the Wake by Christina Sharpe, I came to a full realization that not only is it my problem, I am the problem. She states, “we live in a “systematically anti-Black world … and, therefore, whites are not (simply) ‘racists’. They too live in the same world in which we live. The truth that structures their minds, their ‘consciousness’ structures ours” (Wynter 2006, 7)” (Sharpe, 61).
I recognized that by staying silent and not having discussions about race and how it intersects with life. Like many others in this class, I went to a predominantly white school where race wasn't spoken about while religion and morals were constant. I was never uncomfortable speaking about race because it was never brought up, but I never felt I had the need or responsibility to recognize or speak about it, again, as if it wasn't my problem. Like many others, this class has shown me that race, while sometimes uncomfortable to talk about, is necessary and salient in our world. Recognizing that my points above are valid and real, I also see how and why I feel comfortable speaking out about certain types of racism and not others. DiAngelo states, “... [white people] are usually more receptive to validating white racism if that racism is constructed as residing in individual white people other than themselves” (DiAngelo 61). This is something I see in myself, that I feel comfortable calling other white people out for their microaggressions and racism but am not in tune with my own. This is because of the systematic racism that I have been conditioned to accept. Through this realization, I hope to change the way I communicate with others, be more open to speaking about race and difference, and gain more of an understanding of racism and how it presents itself in me, my surroundings, and the world.
Learning to Love By Treya Tompkins, ’22 In 1963, James Baldwin published the essay “Down at the Cross.” As a white person reading this essay, I became particularly interested by his insights into white people. Before I say more, here is an important disclaimer: throughout this essay, I use the words “white” and “whiteness” to mean the culture of whiteness, white supremacy and the systems it is ingrained in, as well as how these things socialize white people in our world today. I do not mean to target anybody specifically. The following is what I came to understand through “Down at the Cross.”White people as a collective struggle to love ourselves and our fellow white people, so we seek to subjugate people of races different than our own. This rings true, but perhaps our lovelessness developed alongside our quest for power. We can’t let go of our power because we have no love, but we can’t learn to love for fear of losing our power. We cling to our power and the systems we have created to institutionalize it because we know those systems are not permanent and we think that they will protect us so long as we protect them. In a very surface level, material way, they do protect us, but in clinging to these systems, we strip ourselves of true freedom and power. We reject the things that are permanent, like love and nature. We are terrified of love because it “takes off the masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word ‘love’ here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being, or a state of grade--not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth” (Baldwin 102-103). We fear love because it threatens our hold over the systems we cling to, it requires us to risk ourselves, to dare to grow and change. The risk is terrifying even for those of us who long for change and want to do everything in our power to create it. But if we let love break our hold on our systems, we will realize that it doesn't matter what we lose because we will become truly free and be able to step into our own power. This is all very lofty, so you may be wondering how this might look in practice. To help me explain, I will turn to Leanne Betasamosake Simpson who wrote the theory “Land as Pedagogy.” This theory relies on the following belief: “If you want to learn about something, you need to take your body onto the land and do it. Get a practice” (Simpson 17-18). The practice of land as pedagogy is deeply instinctual and transformative. It is more than just a way to educate, it is a way to live. “Land as Pedagogy” directly challenges whiteness: It “did not and does not prepare children for successful career paths in a hyper capitalistic system. It is designed to create self-motivated, self-directed, community-minded, interdependent, brilliant, loving citizens, who at their core uphold our ideals around family, community and nationhood by valuing their intelligences, their diversity, their desires and gifts and their lived experiences” (Simpson 23). The people she is describing are inherent challenges to the systems that white people guard so closely. These people understand that the things we claim protect us, are
bullshit. These people have love because they know that their power lies in embracing the earth, each other, and themselves in ways that go far beyond the sense of power that white people cling to. This is the ultimate risk, the daring to grow and change. This concept is beautifully reflected by James Baldwin himself in “Down at the Cross”: “It is the responsibility of free men to trust and to celebrate what is constant—birth, struggle, and death are constant, and so is love, though we may not always think so—and to apprehend the nature of change, to be able and willing to change. I speak of change not on the surface but in the depths—change in the sense of renewal” (Baldwin 100). These free men that Baldwin describes are the same as the people that Simpson describes: the people who embrace the things that are not valued by whiteness but are the true constants, the things that are actually important; the people who cultivate the renewal necessary to change the world. Understanding all of this has transformed the way I perceive and move through the world. The idea that white people as a socialized group lack love for ourselves and others seems incredibly discouraging, and if it is for you, I understand. But I have found peace in the realization, and learning about “Land as Pedagogy” was exactly what I needed to feel inspired. I don’t dwell on the failures and shortcomings of whiteness, I look forward to what we can become. In that light, I offer you some suggestions for cultivating an everyday practice of embracing the constants and working towards renewal. Such a practice can be as simple as telling your family you love them, finding a place where you can sit in nature, and doing something creative. I think for white people, a good rule of thumb is to think of an activity that is the opposite of what you’ve been taught to do, and do it. At school this might be asking for help when your conditioned mind tells you not to, or offering help when someone else asks. If whiteness tells you to go for a walk and take pictures along the way, maybe you don’t need to. Maybe instead you can go for a walk that you’ve done a million times and see how many things you can notice that you’ve never noticed before. Or instead of passing through, find a spot and sit there for fifteen minutes. How much can you learn about a space when you really stop to observe it? Let yourself feel part of the ecosystem. Embrace your smallness. In your interactions with friends, how can you be more compassionate? When you disagree with them, ask them to explain their point of view. Every time your instincts tell you to get defensive, to shut down, push yourself to be curious and open. Every time, you find yourself wary of someone because they are different from you, gently remind yourself that differences are beautiful and important (wouldn’t it be incredibly boring if we were all exactly the same?). Find ways to push yourself out of your comfort zone and towards a more loving place. Find things you are passionate about and do them because you love them. Cultivate a rebellious spirit. It is inevitable that you will trip up and unintentionally reinforce all that you’ve been conditioned to believe. Sometimes it might not be unintentional. That is okay. Just be conscious of the choices you make and the consequences they have for you and others. Baldwin and Simpson have explained how important it it is to have love and kindness for other people, but it is equally important to have love and kindness for yourself, and sometimes that means not challenging the systems. Don’t let these moments discourage you, you have to take care of yourself to be able to take care of other people. When you slip and fall, get up and try again.
Unit 2 (Whiteness Studies and Africana Studies) Response By Ari Asfaw ‘22 James Baldwin is the embodiment of an ah ha moment; his writing scratches an itch in my soul that no one else has touched (sorry I can't help but be melodramatic). What's so trenchant and unflinching about Baldwin's prose is how he doesn't shy away from the complexities of his own feelings towards love and the very nature of it as well. “Love takes off the masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within. I use the word ‘love’ here not merely in the personal sense but as a state of being, or a state of grace-not in the infantile American sense of being made happy but in the tough and universal sense of quest and daring and growth” ( Baldwin 102 - 103). Love is unbearable; we cannot exist without it and yet we reject it when we experience it. I think about my parents' love for me and how that often feels like I'm drowning and unable to put it all somewhere. Baldwin reminds us that in a world where we're taught from the very first day we enter the classroom to harm one another instead of loving, to choose to not see each other's humanity to ease the burden of guilt, we cannot fully embrace our own humanity until recognizing others'. This is a sentiment that I struggle with myself and believe that I'll struggle with for a long time to come. It's very easy, purposefully so, to fall into the likes of Elijah Muhammad and isolate myself from the rest of the world in the name of Black liberation. I find myself unable to empathize with white people because of the entirely separate world they live in. I don't think love has to come from a place of empathy though and neither would James Baldwin. Empathy necessitates (a) shared experience(s), and in a world structured on anti-Blackness, I can not find many others who hold the same experiences I do. This does not limit me, though, from practicing love and kindness to those around me. As a senior now who's begun to look back at her four years at Bay, in the face of countless racially charged scenarios (both large and small), it's incredibly easy for me to lash out and hold people in
contempt. But when I choose love, Baldwin's conception of love specifically, I no longer view these situations as black-and-white as I would've two years ago. In growing as a person and understanding how much space and love I need shown by those around me, I've come to realize I must hold that for others—including those who hurt me and who continue to hurt me. When I begin to recognize that there is no true "bad" person but rather people who're unable to cope with their own internal frustrations and resort to dumping it out on others, hatred and anger seem to melt away. It's hard to hold that same capacity for anger and frustration when you recognize the pain and confusion others, especially white people, feel that they don't even recognize. “White people in this country will have quite enough to do in learning how to accept and love themselves and each other, and when they have achieved this--which will not be tomorrow and may very well be never--the Negro problem will no longer exist, for it will no longer be needed” (Baldwin 33). I can't single-handedly get white people to start loving and caring for themselves and neither could Baldwin, despite his incisive call to action. What I do now know is that it's never going to leave me worse off if I practice that same love and kindness that's so sparse in this world. If I hold that space both for myself and others, I can create even a small pocket of love in a world that teaches us to do the exact opposite.
Black Gumbo Ingredients 1lb of Light skins 2lbs of Dark skins 5 cups of Multiracial Identities 1 ⅓ cups of the LGBQ community 2 cups of Trans/non-binary community ½ a cup of Artists 3 cups of Activists 4 tbsp of Athletes 6 drops of Brainiacs 2 ½ cups of Dreamers 2 tsp of Fashionistas 3 Scoops of Coconut Oil ½ cup of Spirituality 64 oz of Diversity (Broth) Seasoning 2 tsp of a wide-tooth and rat tail comb 2 tbsp of Chunky Gold Hoops 2 shakes of Slicked edges 1 cup of Nappy 4c hair
BLACK
GUMBO By Ella Lazare, ‘23
Todos Somos Uno Todos somos uno We aaree all one aren’t we? If we are then why is ther Racism? Todos somos uno We are all one aren’t we? Well if we are then why don’t we get along? Aren’t we supposed to be “united”? Lo que pinsas no importa Debemos ser iguales -DeVanee W. ‘22
We are not a monolith
I am not a monolith My skin color does not mean I experience the things another person who looks like me would I am not a monolith My skin color doesn’t dictate my life decisions My skin is something I am proud and not ashamed of I don’t need to feel like I have to tone down my culture in order to fit in Yes my skin may be different but it just adds to my uniqueness I am not a monolith My people aren’t a monolith We will never be a monolith -DeVanee W. ‘22
The Mission is Being Eaten By Nat Navarro ‘23 Drawn in by the scent of housing availability. Once affordable for the working class of immigrants that found community within the struggle of staying afloat in a wealthy and chaotic city. There isn't enough to go around. With each bite taken from those trying to get in on the dot-com boom. For every for rent or for sale sign, there was an eviction notice, a connection, severed between small businesses and families that were deeply rooted in the rich, vibrant soil they grew out of. It's not subtle, not sprinkled, but generously poured in servings of high rise condos or minimalistic commercial start ups with pastel color schemes being added when those who culminated and enriched the very place don’t want it.
They're not for the mural painters, the food vendors, the street dancers, the marginalized. They’re for the yuppies, those tired of suburbia, those with money, that don’t think about who is at the expense of their personal success. The irony of those in the high rises only thinking about building up, instead of thinking about all they are tearing down. The problem isn't comp sci majors or young white millennials. The problem isn't just the honey bear cutouts being trendy. It's that the streets that are painted with the stories of those who sprouted from the cracked concrete, that made their own nutrients to survive, don't receive the warm praise and success of the artists that moved here 4 years ago. The recipe is being changed but I will never forget the taste.
Fernandes? By Jacqueline Fernandes, ‘22
The association of my last name with my race and ethnicity has always been present. Fernandes is Portuguese but sounds hispanic, so some people assume I am hispanic because of this. When this does happen, people tell me they thought I was Mexican before getting to know me. They only ever assume I am Mexican, not from any other hispanic country. They group together all hispanic countries and say “I thought you were going to be Mexican” as if it is the only option. Race and ethnicity being social constructs make these interactions all the more weird. Because without asking me, how could you know my identity? Grace Lee’s documentary, The Grace Lee Project, highlights the importance of not making assumptions based on a name. Race and ethnicity can be among these assumptions. What’s really in a name? Is it actually telling of someone’s race or ethnicity? If so, how can that be possible if both are fluid and ethnicity is self determined? Although race is based on unchanging phenotypes, the racial categories these phenotypes are put into have changed throughout history. These categories were made up, and have changed in the past. There is nothing stopping the change of categories again, race is not a concrete idea. Ethnicity is no different. And it is up to the individual to define their ethnicity. People often misspell my name and put a Z at the end instead of an S, including autocorrect. This isn’t a big deal for me, but I find it representative of how even Google Docs wants to tell me that my name is not what it should be.
Céu Na Terra (Ilusões) Escrito por Becca Silva Só a antropofagia nos une. O calor do seu querer, A beleza da sua ambiguidade. Só a antropofagia nos une. Sua manifestação radical, Sua “harmonia” racial. Só a antropofagia nos une. A minha tropicália tropical, Ouço o som do berimbau. Só a antropofagia nos une. A revolta que deseja É meu alho com meu sal. Definidos pela indefinição; Feitos cegos pela desconexão: Com a realidade. É o meu solidão. Sou brasileiro ou não? Sou simplesmente um palhaçinho Com a tinta na cara Pra andar nesse mundo ruim. A pergunta que persiste Me leva até o fim: Tupi or not Tupi?
A Reflection on Antropofagia By Becca Silva ‘22 As someone who is Brazilian-American, reading Oswald de Andrade’s Manifesto Antropofago has been a cornerstone to contextualizing notions about race in Brazil that I’d grown up understanding but never knew how to articulate or contrast with America’s conception of race. Within Brazilian communities, it’s common to hear the idea that all Brazilians are mixed with a myriad of ethinic backgrounds and this in itself creates a cultural identity that defines us. This is the key idea that De Andrade works with in his manifesto in efforts to promote decolonization through reclaiming our indigenous roots, while using the many strengths we’ve gained as a people through our cultural mixing to make it our own. De Andrade articulates this theory through metaphor. He uses the Tupi cultural practice of cannibalism to absorb the strengths of their enemies to portray the phenomenon of the Antropofagia (cultural cannibalism) that unites us Brazilians. Antropofagia started the conversation of what exactly it means to be Brazilian, which is an idea that has permeated into our mainstream culture through movements like Tropicalismo and through literature. However, we were never quite able to evolve it. This idea steeps into Brazilian nationalism through the conception of race, supposing that what unites us all is cultural mixing. It’s a theory that is reminiscent of the American idea of “colorblindness”. While it acknowledges important differences in Brazilian hybridity and specific forms of colonization it has endured, it also allows for the erasure of experiences from black, indigenous, asian, etc., people within our culture. If being Brazilian means being “mixed”, and you are not or do not seem so, than you are excluded from the narrative. As a result, Brazilians end up living in a paradox of feeling pride in their racial ambiguity, as they use their brown-ness to validate their
“authenticity” as Brazilians, while also appealing to internalized notions of white supremacy that oftentimes manifest in the form of colorism. In other words, my personal experience has taught me that to be Brazilian means to be pardo (brown/mixed), but also frequently includes a desire to be approximated to whiteness. Only in recent years have I noticed some more forms of liberalism appear—much of which that was inspired by the growth in attention to the BLM movement in the USA; which is arguably similar to how Tropicalismo was also inspired by the Black Power movement in the late 60s. I hope my poem can evoke an air of questioning in thinking about antropofagia (cultural cannibalism). What does this mean for Brazilian-Americans, where their American-ness depends on being clearly identified as one race, and their Brazilian-ness is validated by their supposed mixed backgrounds? What exactly does Brazilian nationalism mean? Is embracing cultural cannibalism even liberating?
COLOR BLINDNESS Ashley Petri ‘22 My K-8 school years were filled in schools that were predominantly white. We never spoke about race, gender, ethnicity (etc) because they were all labeled controversial. I thought that was the norm, and I would generally not have an opinion on topics that my previous schools would label as controversial, for fear of being wrong. However, I failed to recognize how much privilege I had to be able to say I have no opinion on issues that affect so many people. Those who claim to be racially color blind are currently living in ignorance. This ignorance continues to give white people power because white people profit from being the main power group. I drew these faces to show that you cannot be color blind when no two people look the same. Instead, it is important to acknowledge our differences. That is why each face is made up of really distinct colors.
Emily Kim, ‘23 My Culture Only Matters When It is No Longer Mine, 2022 Graphite
As a second-generation Korean-American, I’ve often struggled with the conflicting sides and cultures of my life. How many Asians have I seen bleach their skin, cut folds into their eyes, do anything to be closer to white? And how many white Americans have I seen tan their skin, lengthen their eyes with excessive eyeliner and lashes, do anything to be farther from white? There is always an obsession with playing the other, but in the case of Asians trying to adapt into whiteness, it’s often for the sake of survival. It stems from an inherent upholding of white supremacy and believing that whiteness is more attractive and overall safer. The closer I am to the dominant group, the less likely I am to be attacked or shamed for my culture 1. For white people appropriating elements of Asian or other non-white cultures, it stems not from survival, but fascination and/or fetishization 2. With this art piece, I wanted to capture the inherent hypocrisy in how dominant white culture treats Asians. When we speak our language, we’re told to speak English, to be American, to go back to where we came from. When white people get a tattoo in that same mother tongue, it’s a sign of being cultured and of exoticness. The same people who bullied my Asian peers for their “slanted eyes” and “smelly food” are the ones who “lift their eyes” with contour and eyeliner and open “clean Asian restaurants” with names like “Lucky Lee’s.” How can we be shamed for our culture, then see that same culture reproduced “favorably” with a white lens? 1
Double consciousness, as defined by W. E. B. Du Bois, is the
necessary double vision that minorities must hold in dominant society: their own eyes paired with those of the dominant group. This often manifests in code-switching, in which minorities have two personalities which they bring out in different scenarios. This reflects in language, mannerisms, appearance, food choice, and much more. 2
Orientalism, as defined by Edward Said, is the stereotyping of Asian
countries as an monolithic face of exoticness. This results in the “study of the East”, where Western scholars take on Asian culture as something easily understood. These incorrect or selective observations are then passed on to the general Western population as truth. Orientalism also presents in the fetishization or appropriation of Asian culture with neither understanding nor respect for its history. Both of these theories informed the creation of this art piece, and provide foundational concepts to the Asian-American experience. .
stretched too thin by juliana hung ‘22 my vertical pull, the pool of generations is filled to the brim of expectations but jump overboard, trip over a passion i crash into waves that cannot imagine for how will you thrive unless you survive yet applications fly, and acceptances fall their wish that i excel still stains every wall but once i land, now free to explore guilt pours itself back towards family chores to fit into the mold, to do what they say but maybe we’re all waiting that some day — consuming too much suppressing too little familiar love that scolds the table lacking too much being too little losing the touch of our ocean’s people the legacy of immigrants that wish to fit in yet sprint to excel in every decision ignoring that we are stretched too thin —
This poem is inspired by the “Heterogeneity, Hybridity, Multiplicity” chapter in Immigrant Acts: “The making of Chinese American culture — the ways in which it is imagined, practiced, and continued — is worked out as much ‘horizontally’ among communities as it is transmitted ‘vertically’ in unchanging forms from one generation to the next” (Lowe 64).
my horizontal pull, us incoming asians where some of struggle, and others blend in bending the assumptions of our generation our hair, our eyes, our color — all hints dependent on society depends on situation that in america’s eyes, we may always be foreign that me and my siblings, who squeeze into buildings start wearing bland clothes, start eating plain toast interests that broaden, our identities then shift i get lost in the halls, unsure where to fall am i supposed to give in, am i supposed to fit in grandparents done drowning, parents still doubting, children are stretched too thin. asking that we, both asian, both american are accepted as is, across and within.
Hybridity is the “formation of cultural objects and practices that are produced by the histories of uneven and unequal power relations” (Lowe 67). In response to hybridity, I reflect on the vertical and horizontal impacts that simultaneously harm and strengthen my Asian American identity.
Heterogeneity, Hybridity, and Multiplicity in my Family Kai Wong ‘22 The Asian American experience in the United States is broader and more diverse than any one term or ubiquitous story can encapsulate. That being said I want to share the Heterogeneity, Hybridity, and Multiplicity of the Asian American experience through my family. I am a 5th generation Asian American on my dad’s side of the family, and a 2nd generation Asian American on my mom’s side of the family. My father’s side of the family is Cantonese, while my mother’s side of the family is Taiwanese. One of the most notable differences that create differences between Asian American experiences, I think, is the ability to speak a native Asian language. My Taiwanese family are all able to speak Chinese, whereas my immediate Cantonese family have lost the ability to speak Cantonese. For example, my only cousin on my dad’s side is unable to speak Cantonese or Mandarin even though we are of the same generation. We both grew up and went to school in San Francisco, but our ties to our cultures are very disparate. While there are differences in our Asian American experience, there are also many commonalities too, such as getting Dim Sum with our grandfather, eating together as a family, taking shoes off when in the house, an expectation to work hard etc. My dad often jokes around and pretends to have a southern accent sometimes, and we recently watched a
video in class examining the history of Asian Americans in Georgia. I thought about what hybridization of cultures would look like in my family, and my great great uncle who lives in New York might have a slight Brooklyn accent. I thought about the dishes that we make at home and how some aspects of the Western palate have combined with Asian flavors, like bacon fried rice, milk bread/ buns with an Asian styled sweetness, hot dog buns, or steak fried rice. Even during American holidays we will serve Asian foods, like during Thanksgiving we serve sticky rice, Chinese broccoli, rice pudding along with the traditional Western foods like mashed potatoes or cream corn. One family practice that we have never participated in but have seen other family members do is saying grace before eating. When my mom was growing up she recalled that most, if not all, of the Taiwanese members of their community were Christian. While my immediate family is not Christian, we do have some second cousins that are. With Christianity being the predominant religion in the world, a lot of holidays in the US revolve around important dates within Christianity, like Christmas or Easter. Whereas Asian holidays like the Lunar New Year or the Dragon Boat Festival are not federal public holidays. Even at our high school our Winter and Spring Breaks are during these same Christian holidays. Though my extended families are situated in very similar social axes, a difference such as religious affiliation greatly separates our experiences as Asians.
your gaze destroys Lila Shamsi ‘22 paper, acrylic, sharpie
Artist Statement This piece is inspired by the white gaze and cultural appropriation. The white gaze is essentially that the norm and default perspective is white so that most other cultures are viewed through that lens. The idea of cultural appropriation is often misinterpreted. In fact, we spent a whole class discussing what exactly the difference between appropriation and appreciation is. We decided that to participate in cultural traditions, styles, and practices outside of your own you must be invited in. That means that someone inside the culture has to invite you to participate and even then you must recognize that being invited in doesn’t make the culture your own. This view of cultural appropriation really rang true for me. I’d often struggled with seeing parts of my culture corrupted: celebrities wearing bindhi or putting on henna in music videos. Seeing that, when in my life, bringing Pakistani food to school was made fun of, always made me feel isolated. So although I know parts of my culture will still be twisted, having a class that validated the feelings of isolation, where I could study the roots behind them was transformative. I encourage you to dive deeper into studying the thing that makes you feel isolated, whatever it is.
From left to right: 1. Sayonara (1957) 2. Full Metal Jacket (1987) 3. Austin Powers 3: Goldmember (2002) 4. The World According to Suzie Wong (1960) 5. Madame Butterfly (1932) 6. Miss Saigon 7. Madame Butterfly Play (1996)
Coco Holcomb, ‘22
Coined in 1978 by Edward Said, orientalism refers to the stereotyped representation of Asia that creates a binary cultural difference between the West and the East that promotes the presumption of Western superiority. Orientalism exoticizes Asian culture and, subsequently, Asian women. In particular, media portrayals of Asian women sexualize them as an other; they are deemed enticing to white men because of their exoticness, often playing on stereotypes. Movies like Sayonara and The World According to Suzie Wong follows the popular trope of Asian women saved by white American men and brought to the U.S. Asian women are portrayed in these movies as submissive and expected to assimilate to American domestic culture while simultaneously maintaining their exotic image. The latter movie, The World According to Suzie Wong, follows an illiterate Chinese sex worker who falls in love with a white American man, Robert. Robert takes pity on her, eventually marrying her and taking her back to the U.S. Notably, her husband only finds her attractive in traditional Chinese attire, even remarking that it feels unnatural to see her in Western clothing. Her appeal in the movie is centered around fetishizing her non-Western appearance and her submissive nature — often intersecting the two. Another example includes Austin Powers 3: Goldmember, where Austin meets two Japanese twins named “Fook Mi” and “Fook Yu.” The twins only role throughout the movie is to be a punchline for sexual jokes. These include implying that Austin completed his bucket list item of a “threesome with hot Japanese twins” and a “happy endings massage” which communicates to the (mostly teenage) audience that only value of Asian women is their sex appeal. Sexualization of Asian women has also stemmed from U.S military involvement in Asian countries — particularly in Vietnam and Korea. During these wars, the numerous U.S. military bases established contributed to expanding a large, commercialized, sex industry around the bases. A primary example is in “Full Metal Jacket,” which includes an infamous scene where a Vietnamese sex worker tries to solicit American soldiers by saying “me so horny” and “me love you long time". The first time I was catcalled with the former term, I was 12. Since then, it has happened with both phrases more times than I can count. The sexualization of Asian women in the media is instrumental in the harassment and violence we face; the intersection of race and gender makes Asian and Asian American women uniquely vulnerable to violence. Reducing Asian women to sex objects and punchlines shape how people — particularly white men — treat them in real life, leading to marginalization, sexual harassment, abuse — and in all too familiar cases like the 2021 Atlanta shooting — massacre.
Mixed Skyler Holmgren-Lee, ‘22 Do you know what Tiger Woods, Eileen Gu, Drake, Colin Kaepernick, the Rock, and Doja Cat all have in common? They are all multiracial. Many you might have already known that because often times, their racial identity and the validity of their racial belonging becomes a topic of discussion. In our class, we spoke about this, and our conversation really stuck with me for a few reasons. First, I’m mixed too. So to me, these questions have come up a lot. When I was little, and was asked “What are you?” and I would respond some iteration of “I’m half Asian and half white,” but it didn’t feel complete and I would wonder if biologically, I really am half of each of my parents. I would think: there’s no way that kind of exactly 50% of each really happens in biology right? It can’t be, if I just take one of those genetic tests maybe that can just tell me who I am, right? Now, I know that’s not how it works, race is not biological, as affirmed in Basic Concepts in the Study of Racial and Ethnic Relations, “there is no distinctive biological reality called ‘race’ that can be determined by objective scientific procedures” (Feagin and Booher). Race is a social construct, not something that can be determined by a blood or DNA test. But, even if there was a biological test that could tell me who I am, anything less than an equal, or close to an equal blend of each of my parents’ ethnicities wouldn’t feel right to me. There are so many people I know who are mixed and so many people in the Bay Area and at Bay that are mixed that it's normal. And although we all get to decide how we identify, I think that if you ask any of the people who are part white how they identify, half of them wouldn’t know what to say or would still be figuring out how they navigate their response. I am half Asian and half white. I am half of the oppressor and half of arguably one of the more privileged POC groups. Culturally, I am much more connected to my Chinese heritage; but because I’m white-passing, how much of that is erased when people look at me?
Our discussions about mixed celebrities stood out to me for another reason. As we’ve read and discussed various ethnic studies theories and looked to apply them to our lives or the society we live in, it's been clear to me that the boundaries of the racial and ethnic groups and theories that we have learned about are blurred or broken when applying them to multiracial people. One of the most prominent moments when we examined theory regarding multiracial people, was when we learned about Jose Vasconcelos’ idealized “Mestisaje” race, which he identified as a new, superior, racial monolith. Jose Vasconcelos characterizes Mestizaje as encompassing the “entire species [changing] its physical make up and tempermant” to “assimilate them” into one universal and uniform race (Vasconcelos 410, 407). Vasconcelos took a problematic approach and extremely eugenist framing of being mixed. However, at the same time, I think that its interesting to look at how Vasconcelos’ idea of inevitable racial mixing has played out in my own life. In my family and in the communities I’ve grown up in, I’ve noticed that there are many more people who are mixed in my generation than in my parents’ or grandparents’ generation. I think it's cool to think about how this is also likely a product of the destigmatization of interracial relationships and mixed families over time. A really meaningful aspect of this course for me was Dr. Amanda Ellis’s talk. She spoke about her experience as someone who is multiracial/multicultural. She was such a powerful speaker. Her affirmation of belonging as a mixed person was really empowering. She told us that we get to choose how we identify and our experiences can never be discounted because we belong to multiple ethnic groups, but that our experiences are strong because of their nuance. As someone who is mixed and has felt imposter syndrome in groups representing each side of my racial identity, listening to her talk was a meaningful moment of affirmation of the completeness of my identity. So, when we discussed what we thought about the media’s debates on how multiracial people should identify, I didn’t really have an opinion about how Tiger Woods should represent himself or which team Eileen Gu should have been competing for. I think that their decisions about how they identify or who they fight for is not a debate for me or any of us to have. Someone’s identity and how they choose to share it never should be.
Thank you for reading!
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Films: Lee, Grace. The Grace Lee Project. United States: Women Make Movies, 2005. Pounder, C C. H, Larry Adelman, Jean Cheng, Christine Herbes-Sommers, Tracy H. Strain, Llewellyn Smith, and Claudio Ragazzi. Race: The Power of an Illusion. San Francisco, Calif: California Newsreel, 2003. Precious Knowledge-Dos Vatos Films, ITVS, Arizona Public Media and Latino Broadcasting, 2011. Riggs, Marlon T, Nicole Atkinson, Christiane Badgley, Vivian Kleiman, Essex Hemphill, Bill T. Jones, Linda Tillery, Wayne T. Corbitt, Angela Y. Davis, bell hooks, and Eric Gupton. Black Is Black Ain't: A Personal Journey Through Black Identity. San Francisco, CA: California Newsreel, 2004. Yellow Apparel: When the coolie becomes cool Student Recommendations: Abdurraqib, Hanif. The Crown Ain't Worth Much. Button Poetry, 2016. Alexander, Michelle. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness. New Press, 2020. Asghar, Fatimah, and Safia Elhillo. Halal If You Hear Me. Haymarket Books, 2019. de la Peña, Matt. (2020). Mexican whiteboy: A novel. Thorndike Press, a part of Gale, a Cengage Company. Moraga, Cherríe, and Gloria Anzaldúa. This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color. SUNY Press, 2021. Takaki, Ronald T. Strangers from a Different Shore: A History of Asian Americans. Little Brown, 1998. Vuong, Ocean. Night Sky with Exit Wounds. Copper Canyon Press, 2019.