12 minute read
WHEN CANCELLING IS CANELLED
CANCELLED CANCELLED CANCELLED When Cancelling is Cancelled: The Fascinating State of Cancel Culture By Jada Gordon
Advertisement
Protested Hannah Gadsby in her 2018 Netflix comedy special, Nanette. In this evocative live performance, Gadsby dives into the details and inner workings of our culture's obsession with men and their legacies. This idolization is often despite nefarious and insidious words or actions, and with no statute of limitations -- they could be from 3 weeks or 30 years ago. In the past decade, we have observed the most prominent of cultural figures and institutions be challenged, tested, and, in the most extreme cases, completely and utterly destroyed. In return, left with the exposed remnants of what was dismantled, we have had to reexamine their place in our lives and experiences, again both past and present. It is a painful, yet necessary task to hold a mirror up to the figures who have influenced our lives and our culture; however, Pandora’s box has long been open, and we cannot un-see what we have found. “Cancel culture” is an internet theory taken where an individual does or says something offensive or insensitive to other people. In return, the individual is criticized and considered “canceled.” It is a signifier of the technological age that we live in: we now see fans and critics alike as, somehow, closely and intimately connected with famous people situated hundreds of miles away, in both geographical distance and social class. Celebrity icons who were once seen as inaccessible before social media, we now see daily and make them more a part of our everyday lives than ever before. Of course, with this proximity comes a fair share of danger and consequences as we are granted an up close and personal examination of celebrities’ every move, word, and deed. While many have, or inevitably one day will, endure their fair share of criticism on social media, being canceled, for a public figure, is to have their legacy wrapped in a tight and unforgiving knot of controversy and pain. Bill Cosby, for example, is a casualty of cancel culture. His history of drugging and sexually assaulting women, while simultaneously being “America’s Dad” has exposed him as an abuser, rapist, and overall liar, thus leaving him canceled. Other notable casualties of cancel culture include R. Kelly, Roseanne Barr, and WoodyAllen. While these members of cancel culture are seemingly obvious and clear cut, many cancelations have sparked a more nuanced and controversial debate. Cancel culture has, at times, become so restrictive towards the dissenting opinion that it is increasingly partisan, biased, and political, overtaken by groupthink ideology. Subjectively polarizing artists like Kanye West and Taylor Swift, both of whom have made public statements regarding each other, is a paired example of two celebrities who have been subjected to cancel culture yet remain surprisingly unscathed. Kanye West’s support of President Trump was divisive and the artist lost fans just about as quickly as he gained them. Despite this moment in time, West’s voice, music, and public image are far from diminished. In a similar situation, Taylor Swift’s public persona and various missteps are scrutinized often, yet she is still highly influential. Are we seeing a case of picking and choosing artists to cancel? Are people not allowed to have different opinions and beliefs without being attacked? The dividing line between mortality and survival of cancel culture is razor-thin. Despite this fact, there is a seemingly endless sea of gray area that leaves those caught in cancel culture in a wide net of confusion. Any one person, at any given time, can be seen straddling the sides ofcompletely canceled, problematic, unproblematic, and all degrees in between. As humans, wetend to be layered and full of nuance. However, there is a method to the madness and reasons for why we believe in what we do. Cancel culture cannot be the scale on which one measures another’s humanity, both tied in a destiny knot that cannot be undone. Just because there is cognitive dissonance, does not mean a voice should be silenced. Voices are to be discussed and challenged, not attacked and shut out. Unforgivable offenses, such as sexual assault, racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc., are grounds for canceling, however, if a person wants to unlearn those habits, they should be allowed to do so. People can always grow from their mistakes; it is when they do not learn from their experiences that canceling should commence. When people learn from, instead of attack, each other, growing can, likewise, commence. Change is possible and it is a choice whether a person wants to unlearn toxic habits or not. Cancel culture strenuously exercises subjective personal limits and walks the line of public opinion and acceptability. A balance must be restored when participating in cancel culture because it is this balance that provides the necessary degree of nuance. So now, with cancel culture receiving backlash from social media, the tides may be turning, allowing healthier dialogue to occur, increasing accountability, and promoting the harder task of actually learningfrom public other’s missteps in our personal lives, rather than passively canceling them andproceeding having learned nothing.
A Profile of Sara Elkhodary and Samia Abdulrahman BEAUTY BEYOND:
By Hebh Jamal
“You were forced to wear that?”
“How will I know it’s you?”
“It’s unnecessary, you’re just doing this for attention.”
For women who wear the niqab—a veil that covers the face, leaving only the eyes uncovered— such questions are a part of daily life. The niqab provokes great curiosity and anxiety not only as a signifier of Islamic practice but because of how it differs from the conventional headscarf worn by many Muslim women, which covers only the hair. This, however, does not seem to bother Sara Elkhodary and Samia Abdulrahman, two students at The City College of New York who wear the niqab.
Although it is not uncommon to encounter a Muslim woman who wears a niqab, for many, even within the Muslim community, some question why some Muslim women choose to wear the niqab today.
Given our post 9/11 climate of Islamophobia—exemplified most clearly by tragedies like the Christchurch Mosque shooting in New Zealand, the most recent stabbing in London Central Mosque, and Muslim-targeting shootings in Hanau, Germany just a few days ago—one would think the niqab renders a Muslim woman particularly vulnerable to violence. Although the hijab has become a common sight in many societies and diverse sites, City College, the niqab solicits many more stares and intrigue.
FEATURE literature and minoring in biology, and Samia Abdulrahman, an undecided sophomore, sat with The Campus to discuss their experiences as niqabi students.
When did you decide to wear the niqab and, why?
Sara Elkhodary: I came to New York when I was 12 from Egypt. I wasn’t a niqabi when I first came, yet it was almost a year after at 13. I feel every person has her own purpose and for me, I realized it felt like a big barrier that I finally overcame, and it felt like an extra step I was taking to be closer to my religion. I also wanted the extra responsibility that came with the niqab, and because it is an extra step it came with certain responsibility that opened doors for me to learn more about Islam. It gave me an extra level of spirituality, an extra motivation, an extra reminder and with that, an extra responsibility to present myself in a way that embodied what Islam was about.
Samia Abdulrahman: For me, it was a year ago exactly on August 27th, and I wore the niqab for similar reasons. Honestly, I just liked it. When my face, body, and hair are covered, all my interactions are people trying to understand my thoughts and intellect. Beauty is really nothing except what’s in my head. I never felt the hijab was anything but normal to me. Everyone in my family wears a hijab, and in my community, and I never felt challenged by it. But with the niqab, I felt like I was also taking an extra step to get closer to God. It felt
like an achievement to me.
In a culture where we are programmed to take the easy way out of everything, it shocked me to learn you both wanted to wear the niqab because you want to take your faith to another level that transcends social norms. Given that within our lifetimes we have witnessed countless Islamaphobic attacks, do you fear that the niqab might solicit violent reactions?
Sara: After such a horrific tragedy in New Zealand we all felt a sense of alertness. But this hate was never directed just towards the niqab only, it was towards Islam in general. I felt the same fear as any other girl who wore the hijab or anyone who identified as a Muslim in general. But even if I were to feel more cautious, I wouldn’t erase my identity or change the way I want to live my life because of this chain of violence and abuse. Of course, it’s much more difficult and complicated and there are many that would take it off to eliminate further discrimination from the outside and that is completely understandable. But it doesn’t change anything for me, just because there is hate that lies deep within people who are not willing to accept our differences.
Samia: I am afraid, but I know that Allah is the protector. And if my time has come, it‘ll be anytime and anywhere. Of course, as a reaction to this violence, I would sometimes stand from the train tracks afraid someone might push me down, but I never would change how
How were the reactions of those around you when you first started wearing the niqab?
Sara: When I first wore it everyone was against me. My whole family said no, as it is not really in our culture to wear it, let alone the niqab. My parents knew the struggles that accompanied the niqab and were flat out against it. It was a big fight. People may think those who were niqab are oppressed and it’s forced onto them, but for me, it really was a choice that I stuck by.
Samia: In a conservative Yemeni community, people immediately thought the worst. When people see me they think I have no knowledge. When I read a book on the train, people get surprised. The most disappointing though is the reaction from my own community. I was interning at an organization that works with the Yemeni community, and one of the workers wanted to take a picture which he then posted on Facebook. Nobody focused on the work we got done, or on the other women, but only on my niqab. The comments were filled with hate from Arabs and Muslims. “Why is
she oppressed?” they asked.
It’s insane that the mainstream opinion is thatwomen are forced to wear the niqab. For you, Samia, what’s even more disappointing is the internalized hatred from people you expect to understand you best.
Samia: The niqab represents me as a Muslim and Yemenya. With the hijab, I can be anyone, but with the niqab and the style in which I do it, I become even more proud of my faith and
where I’m from. Just because I live in America, does not mean I would lose my spirituality, instead, I wanted to enhance it here.
Sara: For me, the reactions I got from the Arab and Muslim communities were different. I went to a private Islamic high school and I felt people understood more about the niqab. It was my first interaction in college where I felt there was more curiosity, and that’s one hundred percent okay. You’re surrounded by people by different cultures and different religions and you see something it’s normal to feel curious. When people come to me, I get happy, because people want to understand and understand that people are different. The other reaction is they don’t really want to understand but just ask to mock me. My first interaction was as a freshman, I went to my class, it was FIQWS (Freshman Writing), and I sat down the first day. Some people were curious and that was okay. But then the professor was like “how do I know you won’t bring someone else every day to my class? How do I know that it’s you?” I told him if you have an issue you can talk to me after class. I understand sometimes it can be a concern, but you did not need to talk about it in class. I felt like he just wanted to mock it.
Don’t you both feel sick of the constant questions sometimes? Or do you feel this is a 24/7 responsibility you need to stay committed to?
Sara: Sometimes I do feel pressured especially if the person does not feel satisfied with my answer, and when the person isn‘t looking to understand, rather his purpose is to argue only. But to be honest, I rather get someone who asks instead of someone who attacks. Sometimes it feels like I have to justify myself, but I rather answer your question instead of
not.
Samia: It can get annoying. Every single person I met has asked me, and I understand it at first because I wore it so suddenly, but then some don’t believe me. They think because I am engaged, my fiance is forcing me- even though there’s not even a ring yet! Despite that though, I am willing to speak to anyone who wants to learn more.
Congrats Samia on your patience and engagement! My last question is can you describe why a niqab is empowering to you?
Sara: I think for me it’s because it’s a choice that has helped me grow into the type of person I want to be. I saw something that gave me relief. I know that for some this might be kind of weird for most, but you have to understand the meaning behind it is an empowering one.
Samia: A choice is empowering. Wearing a niqab makes me feel more responsible over myself, and a method to get closer to my faith. It’s empowering to have people try to understand how you think and feel instead of how you look.
Sara: Yeah, for every girl it’s different, and I know my answer is not a representation of all niqabis. It may not make sense to some, but it makes sense to me.
The niqab is not solely a means of worship, but a tool of empowerment. Transcending their obstacles, women dedicated to the niqab administer a resilient beauty beyond physical appearance. Sara and Samia do not speak for all niqabis, yet have shown that their challenges in life do not include what you think of them.
