Volume V Issue I

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uc san diego

volume V, issue 1, october 2011

KEEP ENGAGED BE AN

AGENT OF CHANGE


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volume V, issue 1, october 2011

LIZ NGUYEN co-editor in chief

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eptember 2011 -- sugar and spice couldn’t have been used in a more offensive manner. The UC Berkley College Republicans, a student group, launched a bake sale in order to protest SB185, a potential bill under which race and gender may be considered as factors for acceptance into California universities. Cupcakes and cookies were priced based on the race and gender of the purchaser, attempting to demonstrate that, under the potential bill, students of a certain race/gender would be given an unfair advantage. The prices went as follows: White males: $2 Asian Males: $1.50 Latino Males: $1.00 Black Males: $.75 Native American Males: $.25 $.25 off purchases for all women The Berkeley Bake Sale erases the long history of systematic oppression that has led to affirmative action in the first place.The Bake Sale forgets to acknowledge how some are born into this world with more advantages than others, promoting a bootstraps theory -- “if you work hard you can have your cupcake and eat it too”-- that is not viable for everyone. The reason why we need affirmative action is because we still continue to live with the legacy of colonialism and slavery, because our society is stratified by race, class, gender, sexual orientation etc. The world is an unequal playing field -- not all students have to worry about working 2 jobs, being deported, or being unable to be hired for the job for which they received their degree. While going home for vacation is an option for some students, others may unable to visit their families or their home may not be a safe place. Not all students see themselves represented with dignity, or represented at all, in their universities. Not all students have access to higher education, and those who make it inside university walls may find themselves invalidated.

Discourse Analysis of an Image of Himba Women on the Travel Website Safari Drive YVONNE LAN staff writer

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he existence of discourse is a long and lasting one. Whether people are conscious or not the idea to put the world into two simple categories: western and nonwestern, civilized and uncivilized, developed and undeveloped is still prevalent nowadays and can be traced back as early as the 15th century. Westerners are often unaware of their biased vision on other cultures. But discourse does still remain in the 21st century. The picture of two Himba Women I found on the Safari Drive travel website will serve as a tool to prove that the theme of exotic sexuality in discourse is still in existence. The picture is different from any of the things one have seen in the Western world; the copper skinned women are dressed in traditional Himba clothes: they are topless

and wear short skirts made out of goatskins. Their hair is plaited in beautiful designs and their clothes are accessorized with shells and metal jewelry. One of the women in the picture is on the back of a donkey looking tenderly at the baby in her arms; the other girl is standing next to the donkey with her body in the direction of the girl with the baby. This picture is displayed on a travel website called “Experience the Undiscovered with Safari Drive”. The title of the website suggests that all the destinations of the trips planned by Safari Drive are land of the undiscovered, this contradicts to the fact that these places have been inhabited by the natives thousands of years ago. Also, the wording “safari” stresses the idea that these trips are for explorers who are interested in discovering the inexperienced. Whereas the word safari would never been used in travel brochures whose destisee SAFARI on page 10


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volume V, issue 1, october 2011

uc san diego

On the Eve of Uprising VERNESHA POTTS staff writer

W

VISNU GOSH artist

about the theme keep engaged be an agent of change

During Germany’s siege of London in WWII, British citizens took refuge in the underground subways to escape the bombings. The British Royal Army cooked up a catchy slogan for this desperate period--“Keep Calm, Carry On”--urging people to continue with their normal lives while ignoring the carnage above. The slogan has recently been revived in a variety of parodied forms. Keep Calm, Have Dessert! Keep Calm, Rock On! Keep Calm, Call Batman!... all of them topped with a sassy royal crown (or relevant item). One parody that strikes close to UCSD is printed and sold on an AS t-shirt: “Keep Calm, Study On.” This issue aims to be an open critique on a system that prompts us to turn the other way when we are faced with inequality, that encourages us to be passive when our communities are in crisis. The Collective Voice will not be silent in the face of injustice. We will not read our books while nooses dangle above our library desks. We will continue to resist. Just as the AS t-shirt compels one to remain silent and still,The Collective Voice invites you to Keep Engaged, Be an Agent of Change.

good vibes,

ith the latest fee increase to UCSD tuition, students are under more stress than ever to graduate. As if quarter systems are not hectic enough, students on financial aid are being forced to pay the majority of their tuition, which is way more than the average student can afford. In the face of these increased tuition fees and dwindling job opportunities, students are starting to ask themselves: is it even worth it? One girl on twitter tweeted a loud message that is clearly ringing through the ears of many UCSD students: “I went to beauty school because it was fast, easy, and fun. And now I make more money than 69% of people graduating from four year universities.” Then she went on to remark, “the life of a college student is horrible!” Indeed. Many people on campus share her sentiments. Yet even though the discontent is mutually felt among students, there is little or nothing yet to be heard in collective protest. Instead of rebelling against the status quo, students are taking on two or more jobs on top of being full time students. Even more depressing, there have been whispers among UC peers and other prestigious high tuition campuses like Harvard that some girls are making the ultimate sacrifice to stay in school: prostitution. It’s a cold world. And the climate on campus is even colder, despite the warm weather lately. The fee increase is weighing down upon the students, especially those who rely heavily on financial aid. Yet they continue to go against the grain of democracy and silently carry their unjust burden. Clearly, the state of education in California represents a democratic failure on the part of the people of this state. Instead of imposing its will upon the government, the people are allowing the government to fall short of its word: to represent our interests. However, the reasons why students would go through the trouble of appeasing the state and paying their tuition, rather than embrace civil disobedience and refuse to pay such a high fee, goes beyond individual indifference. The financial enslaving of students to the education system rather than the maintenance of the responsibilities of government to its constituencies, is a blasphemous and alarming trend.. Unfortunately, these fee increases are scheduled to continue in 2015 when UCSD is likely to have a 1.5 budget gap that students will be expected to cover. Students will soon be selling their very souls for the pursuit of education now that education has become a privatized corporation sucking the blood from its students in return for a service that was once the hallmark of America’s freedom for the common man. In this day in age, education is the hallmark of America’s free enterprise.


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volume V, issue 1, october 2011

Post Compton Cookout: Where is the community at?

reflections from an “ activist funk ” point of view . movement as well as within the com- strength to keep fighting. While walkANONYMOUS munity--all which aid the healing pe- ing through campus, I cannot help contributing staff writer riod. Our community works in a very but remember what we were doing he events of February 2010 mysterious way; our structure is both two years ago. I look out towards the Chancellor’s Complex and remembrought out numerous emotions unique and beautiful. During this process, numerous ber the images of students occupying within our community at UCSD. We not only experienced hatred from emotions are brought up. What I it, I go up to the fourth floor of Price others, we experienced love, unity, fear, learned from this is that with these Center to the AS Chambers and resadness, tension, burnout, and strength. emotions, conflict and anger are member the chants we all shouted as Since these events, the commu- brought up as well. This was evident we meet with Administration, I walk nity has witnessed a period of heal- last year as many of the recent gradu- up the Triton Steps and remember as ing, growth, and reflection. All three ates experienced a higher rate of ten- we all marched out of the University’s encompass time to process, check- sion and burnout from each other. It “Teach In”, I look out towards Library ins, cry, talk, scream, practice self care, was not only hard to view, it was hard Walk and remember the thousands of students that walked out on March 4th etc.—and they create what is known feeling it. I couldn’t comprehend how a few fighting for their Education. All these as the “healing period”. What comes from this, are the flashbacks of where months earlier we were all working memories not only provide myself/the we were at, what we experienced and together to create the institutional community with the institutional memwhat we were doing two years ago. change this campus needed and, how ory of what occurred, but also provide During this period, it may seem as later, our community tensions amongst us with the strength to go on. During this healing period, almost though the community is falling apart; each other were growing. As I witthis will never happen. We are a fam- nessed this, I couldn’t help but feel two years since the Compton Cookily; disagreements may occur from time as though I was in a funk, as if there out, the community is in its next stage to time but we will never stop being a existed an “activist funk” after the of healing. We have all cried, took time family. This community has never fallen movement. I was tired, did not want off, reflected, painted, drawn, moved to apart because of the love we have for to attend class, did not want to talk to other parts of the world, and have beour fellow members and because of people, see people--I practically did come stronger.We carry the memories not want anything, I was in pain, REAL of those days in our minds and hearts the fluidity amongst our struggles. Historically, communities of color pain. It was a horrible feeling, but it was and use them to strengthen our comare pitted against each other, especially crucial to my healing process. I needed munity. The community is regrounding when resources are at stake. For ex- to take time away from this community itself and growing; it’s restructuring itample, looking at UC Berkeley’s com- because it had become violent. It was self with its new members, it has exmunity, we can see how organizations then that I realized how a community panded throughout numerous cities, are in a constant fight for resources; can turn and be violent. (I understand states, and nations. Although the healat times, they have to go against each the notions the word violent brings, ing and reflection process may never other because they are fighting for however, this is what the community end, we are slowly beginning to recognize where we are at. Our community the same resources. Unlike Berkeley, had turned into in my point of view.) Now that time has passed by, I will always be a commUNITY, no matwe have a very unique way of working here at UCSD. Notions of inter- have reflected on what I experienced ter what this institution throws at it. sectionality, transnational activism and and have realized that the unity we Por la Raza habla mi espiritu. Con Amor love are always expressed during the possessed is what has given me the siempre.

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The Collective Voice's F.A.Q. WHEN CAN I SUBMIT MY WRITING/ ART/PHOTOS?

Email your contribution to us at any time! We will publish it in the upcoming issue. Please refer to our Facebook Events Page (search for The Collective Voice) for deadlines, so that we have enough items to publish an entire newspaper! If you’re ever unsure about publishing a particular work, send us an email or come talk to us!

DO I HAVE TO BE A STAFF MEMBER TO CONTRIBUTE?

No way! Any one can send in a contribution: UCSD students, staff, faculty, alumni, community members, and K-14 students.

HOW CAN I GET INVOLVED?

Email us at cveditors@ gmail.com or drop by our staff meetings (Thurs 12:30-1:30p at SPACES). We have staff positions available and are very friendly!

W here is my A sian A merican S tudie s at UCSD? LINDA CHANG contributing writer

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n January 30, 2011, California established the first commemoration for an Asian American in the U.S.-- “Fred Korematsu Day of Civil Liberties and the Constitution”. This day honors and celebrates the life of civil activist Fred Korematsu. Though there was not a massive media attention on that day, it became a milestone in acknowledging Asian American activists. However, not everyone at UCSD acknowledged that significant day. This lack of awareness can be attributed to UCSD’s lack of an Asian American studies major/minor. UCSD’s student population data lists Asian American and Pacific Islanders (AAPI) students as the majority at this university. However, if AAPI students are the majority, why is there no Asian American Studies major and/or minor that exists? Since the numbers of AAPI students are large, : why has their history and struggle been largely undocumented/acknowledged? Is it the lack of external pressure UCSD is situated in? Is it the lack of student awareness in pursuing their cultural identity? No, it is mostly UCSD’s lack of catering to AAPI student’s growth and development as well as developing culturally competent education. Therefore, students

took the initiative and formed a coalition to fight for establishing an Asian American Studies major/minor. This student led coalition is named “Coalition for Critical Asian-American Studies (CAAS)” which has made efforts in developing the crucial major/minor studies that is needed at UCSD. The goal of CAAS is to have UCSD AAPI community understand their culture and identity as it interrelates to America. . According to CAAS’s mission, Asian-American Studies is necessary so that a space is created to “raise awareness of Asian-American history, culture, and identity from an intersectional and cross-cultural perspective; to interrogate the model minority myth and how we are all affected by it”. The only visibility of an AAPI figure that exists on UCSD campus is the Alumna flag of Jerrilynn Malana. This past 2011 year, I noticed a mustache was taped to her mouth yet it took me until spring quarter 2011 to realize it is something that should not be tolerated. Sadly, the Alumna association was unaware of this intolerable act that has occurred since winter quarter2011. This act was very settled as compared to UCLA student’s ignorant video. However, I feel it conveyed equally or more hurt and disrespect to AAPI community. Now, it made me question the purpose of the see STUDIES on page 9

CALL FOR CONTRIBUTIONS! We are looking for articles, poetry, art, and photos for our second issue! The theme is Thankstaking, critiquing colonization, imperialism, occupation, and historical amnesia. As always, you can contribute pieces of any theme you like. Send contributions to cveditors@gmail.com by Wednesday, November 9. Email us or write on The Collective Voice’s Facebook wall to let us know about your contribution!


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volume V, issue 1, october 2011

UC S an D iego R anked #1? DYLAN LOMBARDI

communities of color. I still can’t believe that contributing writer it is up to the students to promote diverse curricula. How can a university like UC San Diego umbers and percentages don’t in- be placed at the top of a list when its so-called form me of the efforts UC San Diego contributions to the public do not come from has taken to become aware and con- spaces that promote and practice pedagogies scious of the students of color on campus. Di- of diversity? versity isn’t solely student body composition. It’s probably because individuals refuse to UC San Diego can continue to perpetuate its recognize their inherent privilege and would historical legacy of elitism and whiteness as a rather use personal discomfort over intelselective, predominantly white institution of lectual disagreement to actually learn somehigher education despite the increase in di- thing. Surely, this must say something about versity over the years. With all the praise UC the diverse world that the university believes San Diego has been receiving for Washington to be preparing us for with multiculturalism Monthly’s #1 ranking as a public institution as opposed to, say, outcomes of student learnthat contributes a ton of research, why am I ing. With increasing diversity, how are univercomplaining? I don’t understand how UC San sities preparing students with these agendas Diego could receive such a review given last in class? With such curricula, it is no wonder year’s concern over the campus racial climate. why the supposed diverse world we are being The conversation does not end by check- prepared for is filled with the continued pering off diversity as tantamount to numbers. petuation of oppressions. Or is it that WashRacial climate sees past percentages and in- ington Monthly is rating national universities volves much more, from diverse faculty and according to which institutions continue to staff to an inclusive curriculum that reflects reproduce hegemonic structures of oppres-

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sions and whiteness? Of course, UC San Diego has taken measures to promote consciousness of the existence of students of color with actions like the acceptance of the diversity general education (GE) requirement as well as the permanent installment of the Chicano Legacy 40 Anos mural. However, what else does UC San Diego have in store for us? Considering the continued budget cuts and increase in privatization, I am wondering how this Washington Monthly #1-ranked institution will fund its reputation in research while addressing its concern for diversity matters or lack thereof. The demands that resulted from last year’s concern for the campus racial climate are not just a list for administrators to check off. These are not be-all and end-all goals that ultimately bring the university to be forever diverse. These are processes that must continue, that must be maintained. It becomes a question of sustainability. What will the university do next? More importantly, what will the university not do next?

Of Race and Relationships: Bread Isn’t Just For Sandwiches YVONNE LAW staff writer

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n an effort to save money, my SO and I were thinking about what foods we could get that would be versatile options during the food-making processes of cooking breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. One particular exchange during our meandering journey through Safeway really brought home to me an important aspect of growing up in any culture: food. “Celery?” He suggested. “We can put it in soup or eat it as a snack.” I shook my head, wondering if I should suggest garlic even though I knew we wouldn’t be able to use it all. “I don’t like celery. How about broccoli?” We passed by the green onions (which went in almost every dish my mom cooked) and selected some fruit in the produce section, then selected his favorite cereal (Raisin Nut Bran) and my favorite cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats, but only the Honey Roasted variety) before heading for the refrigerated dairy section in the back. “We can get bread,” he commented as we walked past shelves of bread in all its wheat, white, honey oat, potato, rye, and sourdough glory, all packaged in neat loaves along the aisle. “Why?” A lot of surprise; a little distaste. Nothing against bread; I just didn’t much like sandwiches. He sounded confused. “Well, it’s something we can eat for every meal. Toast, and sandwiches, and dinner-“ “But I don’t like sandwiches…” My experience working in the dining hall at my university had raised my standard for sandwiches - I wouldn’t be satisfied with just lettuce, a couple of slices of tomato, and one or two other vegetables. Plus, sandwiches were a pain to prepare… and who ate sandwiches for dinner, anyway?”

There was a pause, a moment of silence while we stopped in the aisle. And then he started laughing. Dinner in my thoroughly Chinese household varied in the details, but had certain mainstays that were reliably constant: 1. Soup before and after dinner. 2. Rice was served more than nine times out of ten. 3. We almost always had at least one plate of vegetables, one plate with seafood or fish, and one plate of some other kind of meat. 4. Fruit for a late dessert. For me, rice is comfort food, happy food, filling food, and the staple I always cooked when I needed a pick-me up or something that was familiar and reminded me of home. My mom always cooked porridge with chicken, ginger, and green onion when my brother or I were sick; it got so that whenever I was sick at school, that was the only thing I wanted or had much of an appetite for. This was something I’d taken for granted as “normal,” as something that I would cook when I was living on my own. Even if my significant other had a Chinese or Chinese American background, I’m sure there would still be differences in the foods we would be used to eating (for example, even the foods that my younger cousins on my dad’s side eat are slightly different than what my family usually eats at home). Even allowing for small differences, though, my boyfriend’s food and my food are completely different in type, variety, and staples. His grocery store is Safeway, his parents’ first choice the produce market, and mine is Zion and Ranch 99. We become so used to the food we grow up with that seeing how other families eat can take some adjustment, especially when that other family is the boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) family, and their ethnic background is very different from our own.

I can only imagine the kind of culture shock I’m going to get when I experience a “real” Thanksgiving with his family, complete with the turkey and stuffing and who knows what else. (Back home, we never really acknowledged the Western holidays, aside from the fact that my parents didn’t have work on those days. If we “celebrated” Thanksgiving at all, it was with a gathering of family friends, grilling chicken or beef ribs in the backyard, and eating chow mei fun. The only turkey I ate growing up was the kind you bought sliced in plastic packaging in the deli section.) Being in a long-distance relationship also means that it took me well over a year to really understand what it meant to date someone from a vastly different ethnic background than my own. Because we ate out more often during those rare visits to see each other, I didn’t realize just how different our day-to-day eating habits really were. So what did I learn during my August visit? My rice is his salad. Hamburgers, steak, and hot dogs grilled in the backyard are high on the list for family gatherings. There actually exists an invention called the “salad spinner.” Rice eaten plain and white is basically nonexistent as a dish or even as a side. There are more specific names for different pasta dishes, because they actually eat more than one kind of pasta. And lastly, bread is not just something you eat in a sandwich.

Check out Yvonne’s blogs! blog: An Asian-American Diary link: anasianamericandiary.tumblr.com


ABOUT THE IRVIN REGINE REYES

SPEAKOUT in SOLIDARITY with the IRVINE 11

co-editor in chief

O Yasmin Aghajan

Shereen Nourollahi

GETTING TO KNOW

10/11

REGINE REYES co-editor in chief

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Shereen Nourollahi

Yasmin Aghajan

ne of the most successful media c is the one sided narrative regardin over statehood and sovereignty.Ve war atrocities committed by the Israe ian people. So much U.S. money is in complex that supports this violence cries of injustice and the United Natio war crimes and crimes against human conflict is the context to the Irvine 1 tures of power, flows of money, and m to be considered when analyzing the after what was imagined to be just an The UC Irvine Muslim Student Un UCI’s community of multicultural stud ry of protest is long and accomplishe of a speaking engagement in protest, tion of the room hilariously vacant. N of the MSU were highly concerned af the Israeli ambassador to the United the Israel Defense Forces, would com a speaking tour in order to clean up 2009 Gaza Massacre. After discussing among themselv to stage the protest during Oren’s s School style. The students and their

Shereen Nourollahi

rvine 11. It’s a catchy name: conc kind of alliterates. Behind such a m around the front pages of nationa who stood up and spoke out agains the Speakout in Solidarity with the Ir meeting Osama Shabaik, one of the I a San Diego local. People often misconstrue activis if not enraged, people foaming at th social injustice. Maybe there are suc haven’t met a single person like that that; his energy was warm, he smile stories, and had a good sense of hu book. Rather than asking for sordid d I wanted to know more about him, a Osama is a San Diego local. He g erately middle class neighborhood e migrated from Egypt. His childhood critical consciousness. The political re eracy rates, and high poverty levels h worldview. He describes, “In America see it but in Egypt it [injustice] was Juxtaposing the lives of folks who l Tierrasanta, with what he saw abroad right in this world.” 9/11 was a watershed moment. Muslim community, forcing them un particularly awkward time since his n with loaded baggage. His easy smile surface as he re-tells stories of discrim cashiers would become stoical after were confrontational, and the media “ridiculous.” Rarely, they would attem “they would never humanize Islam as Osama recalls that when folks w question of arrest came up. One of who volunteers to speak out to thin their were willing to get arrested. The but he was fairly confident that his fi speech would be protected. Yet the s


NE 11

campaigns in the United States ng the Israel-Palestinian conflict ery little is published about the eli military against the Palestinnvested in a military industrial e, enough that it drowns out ons’ sanctions against Israel for nity. This historical, international 11 incident. International strucmarch of military troops need course of events that followed nother student protest. nion (MSU) is an active part of dent organizations. Their histoed; they once left in the middle , leaving the entire middle secNeedless to say, many students fter hearing that Michael Oren, States and former member of me to their campus as part of p Israel’s sullied image after the

ves, ten students volunteered speaking engagement, Chicago friends sat among the crowd

and several seconds into the Oren’s talk the first student protester stood up and declared “Michael Oren, propagating murder is not an expression of free speech!” He peacefully cooperated with the campus police who promptly handcuffed and detained him in a backroom. Meanwhile every few minutes, another student from the ten would stand up and declare the same statement. The last of the Irvine 11 was someone who was in the crowd as students marched out to boycott the speech. After being released form detainment, it seemed that would be the extent of disciplinary actions against the. Yet later, the MSU received sanctions and suspension despite never having officially endorsed the protest. This suspension goes beyond stifling student organizing and social life. The MSU also serves as a safe and welcoming space for Muslim students to pray together. A day to the year deadline to file a lawsuit, District Attorney filed a lawsuit against the Irvine 11 for conspiracy to disrupt a public event and for actually disrupting a public event. Their indictment under this obscure and seldom enforced law, coupled with the fact that they used a widely known political protest style made their case highly intriguing. Disturbingly, they were convicted guilty of on both counts. Although District Attorney requested jail time for these misdemeanor “crimes,” the judge handed down a sentence of 56 hours of community service and three years of probation. An appeals process is currently underway. Even a person with rudimentary knowledge of Constitutional law can see how their verdict may infringe on their first amendment right to freedom of speech. Extrapolating even further, how protest and critique of government or society may be threatened due to this development.

Huma Waseem

W OSAMA SHABAIK

cise, rather informative, and it monolithic name, one splashed al newspapers, are eleven folks st injustice. Through organizing rvine 11 I had the privilege of Irvine 11 and I’m proud to say,

sts as these perpetually angry, he mouth with contempt for ch activists around but I sure t. Osama definitely wasn’t like ed easily and often, told great umor. He’s cool peeps in my details of the Irvine 11 incident, as a person. grew up in Tierrasanta, a modeast of UCSD. His family imtrips to Egypt helped fuel his epression, dictatorship, low lithe witnessed gave him a wider a we grow up with racism and s so blatant and in your face.” live in American suburbs like d, he reflected that “stuff is not

He describes it as jolting the nder the spotlight. He had a name, Osama, suddenly came es and good sense of humor mination with a smirk. Cordial r hearing his name, neighbors a’s depictions of Muslims were mpt to humanize an Arab, but s a religion,” he states solemnly. were planning the protest, the the MSU womyn asked those nk hard about whether or not e thought did pass in his mind first amendment right to free situation turned out much dif-

ferent as the Irvine 11 were indicted and tried for conspiracy to disrupt a public event and for disrupting a public event. He reflects on anticipating the verdict because he “wanted it over with” and had “braced for the worst and hoped for the best.” The guilty verdict was not a surprise due to the extremely vague law (selectively) used to try them. However, he asserts that rather than seeing the verdict as a closing of opportunities he saw the doors that were closed to him as doors that he “wouldn’t want to walk through anyway.” Despite the difficulties with the case, he was able to feel grounded through the support of his family, friends, and community members. He speaks with affection for the lawyers who worked on his case, expressing that “they really believed in the case” and that “they treated us like younger brothers.” His relationships with the Irvine 11 were of camaraderie and brotherhood, passing the long court dates with jokes. His transnational lens also helps frame his perspective on the case. When comparing his struggle for freedom of speech to what he witnessed in Egypt during the last’s spring revolution, his situation isn’t so crucial. He says, “they’re [Egyptians] fighting for basic freedom and human rights, fighting to be heard, they’re there ready to die that day.” The advice Osama gives to young activists in college is to continue pushing the agenda. He acknowledges and is an expert on the fact that student activists will meet resistance but firmly believes that students play a vital role in setting the moral heartbeat of the nation. He suggests they continue to challenge power and create a mass movement that connects the struggles all over the world. In his eyes, the Irvine 11 case didn’t have a chilling effect on student activism at UC Irvine. Rather than stifling student activism, those already involved became even more invested. A new generation of organizers have come in after he graduated. He believes that MSU may organize more carefully, but that they won’t be silenced. Instead, he’s proud to say that Students for Justice in Palestine has entered as a new student organization at UCI. Now that he has graduated, he’s taking time off. Osama’s plans for the future are to go to law school and eventually run his own law firm. He’s also interested in going into teaching. Sitting down with Osama was inspiring and affirming. I saw him as someone who followed his beliefs to conclusion, choosing to live a life of passion and dedication. His story reminds me that despite the challenges it may bring, to continue to do work that is gratifying and exciting. Freedom. Kalayaan.

Huma Waseem

Yasmin Aghajan

sponsored by the student affirmative action committee


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volume V, issue 1, october 2011

THE ERASURE OF ASIAN AMERICAN STRUGGLE

Maggie Quan

MAGGIE QUAN

contributing writer

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his past summer, I was walking to visit my high school in my hometown of Los Angeles, when I passed a new addition to a wall of my elementary school. The school had a mural painted that featured four historical figures. Judging by the people represented in the mural, the purpose of the wall seemed to reflect celebrating leaders of communities that have been oppressed. The four figures pictured in the painting were: Martin Luther King, Jr., the African American pastor who organized mass demonstrations of civil disobedience; Susan B. Anthony, the white American woman who advocated for women’s suffrage; César Chávez, the Mexican American who worked across color lines to fight for farm workers’ rights; and Confucius, the Chinese philosophical thinker from the 5th Century B.C.E. Upon recognizing the last figure, I immediately became angry. Of all the people the Los Angeles Unified School District could have chosen to represent the 20% Asian American students in my neighborhood, they chose Confucius. Confucius’ face felt like a mocking caricature of my Chinese identity. Here was his face, an old Chinese man looking wise in a long white beard and what appeared to be a Chinese headdress on the side of my elementary school, among three American civil rights leaders. He didn’t even look like me, much less share the same history and struggles of Asians in America! As a daughter of Chinese-Vietnamese immigrants and a first-generation college student of the 21st century, I felt like his presence on the side of the wall placed me into the same category as this Chinese ancient thinker from thousands of years ago. If there were any differences between the two of us, it has gone unnoticed by the makers of this mural. The mural was made with the best intentions, so Confucius could not have been a clumsy decision. My only explanation for

why Confucius was selected to appear on this mural is that he must have been an easy choice. In my experience with secondary education history books, Confucius has never been ignored in the few chapters that discussed the history of the countries of Asia. It would be simple to choose him because he has been approved and deemed worthy in history books. Also, the label of “Asian American” is complicated for those who fall under this umbrella identity, and to avoid being problematic with that political aspect, Confucius was chosen. Confucius was a famous Chinese thinker whose teachings are well known throughout Asia and even span into Western ideologies. Thus, he must have seemed to have a universal appeal. And he has an Asian face, so people can’t complain. I have nothing against Confucius personally, but here is what is unsettling about seeing his face in that mural: I feel as though my community has been erased. By slapping Confucius’s face on this wall of historical American struggle, this mural is spreading the idea that Asian Americans are perpetual foreigners in this country. By using this image of a man from two thousand years ago, this mural is insinuating that Asian Americans have not faced struggle in this country. Asian Americans have been in the United States for over one hundred years. We have been USED, we have been OPPRESSED, we have been BANNED, we have been DISPLACED, we have been MARGINALIZED, we have been MILITARIZED, we have been ERASED. In elementary school, the struggles of Asian Americans were erased from history books. I did not know that the Chinese were the first group to be specifically banned from immigration in the U.S. I did not learn a single Asian American name that participated in the Civil Rights Movement. I did not know that Japanese Americans were sent to internment camps, and that as a result of targeting Japanese Americans, other Asian Americans were subjected to hate crimes and discrimination. I did not know that it took the government 40

years to issue an apology to Japanese Americans for their internment. I did not know that during World War II, America drafted many Japanese Americans and told them to fight in order to prove their loyalty. I did not know that in the 1980s, the government destroyed the L.A. Chinatown that had been in place for decades to build Union Station, relocating families and businesses and forcing a permanent separation in the community as the residents split to form the current L.A. Chinatown and the community of Monterey Park. When I went to family and friends and expressed my anger about the mural, many of them asked me who I thought should have been there in Confucius’s place, because my peers could not conjure a single Asian American name in history. One of my candidates would be Fred Korematsu, the Japanese American who resisted internment and received a Presidential Medal of Freedom for challenging oppression and who was also the first Asian American to have a California holiday in his honor. Another truly inspiring Asian American figure would be Yuri Kochiyama, who had been placed in a Japanese internment camp and rose to become a leader in the Civil Rights Movement. Yuri Kochiyama was present when Malcolm X was shot, and she cradled his head in her lap as he died. Both Fred Korematsu and Yuri Kochiyama would have been excellent reflections of the inequalities that Asian Americans have fought against. This mural in my community initially made me angry, but in the end it gave me the opportunity to reflect on the struggles of Asian Americans, and to educate my friends and family of this past that had been erased. As a result of being triggered by this mural, I rejected the idea of Confucius representing my experiences as an Asian American. I wrote this in the hope of further educating a wider community about the faces of Asian American struggle that is often left out of history books.

We have been USED, we have been OPPRESSED, we have been BANNED, we have been DISPLACED, we have been MARGINALIZED, we have been MILITARIZED, we have been ERASED.


uc san diego

9

volume V, issue 1, october 2011

Liquorería LIZ NGUYEN co-editor in chief

When he saw the lump on his mother’s face, Luis knew it was time to go. His mother wrapped him and his baby sister Carla in their warmest jackets, and stuffed some clothes into a black trash bag. They drove away in the blue van which did not belong to them as their father lay passed out on the sofa. Despite her cheek swelling like a bright, ripening fruit, Luis’s mother drove them far away from their home in the alleyway behind the liquor store. When they finally stopped the streets were silent except for the distant gunshots between the White Fence and D2Ks. Luis buried his face under his mother’s arm and dreamed of his father’s red, bloated, snarling face when he discovered them gone, alcohol lacing his morning breath. They arrived at Sra. Hernandez’s doorstep, a one-bedroom apartment she shared with her three teenage daughters. She and Luis’ mother were good friends, so there was room for Luis’ family if everyone squeezed in together. Luis’ mother blubbered out her story while Sra. Hernandez applied medicine paste to her face, and Carla began to wail when the tears splashed onto her mouth and nose. Luis took the baby from his mother’s shaking arms and huddled in a corner behind the ratted sofa. He rocked Carla and made soft cooing noises like when he would put her to sleep every night. But Luis looked out of the window into the same crumbling streets and cracked apartment buildings. He squinted hard into the distance and saw the same bright yellow billboard that stood a block from his old home, with the face of a wanted murderer for $250,000. He’d heard that the man had shot three people when robbing a store the last week. If Luis had $250,000 he’d buy his mother and sister a house in Montebello, where they could have a front yard and a backyard, and maybe even a swimming pool, and perhaps picky white neighbors. “Mijo, don’t be like him,” Luis’ mother hiccupped between gasps for air. At least Luis knew his father wouldn’t call the police, not even to get his car back. Their family never looked a policeman in the eye, just kept on walking. Luis had never been to Mexico, but maybe it might be better there than in East LA. Sra. Hernandez used her thick thumb to wipe the medicine jar clean. “Your mother will need more later,” she said to Luis. “There is a liquor store on the corner of the street. › STUDIES from page 4

Miguel should be in. Tell him it’s for me and he’ll give you a discount or something.” Deaf to all protest, Sra. Hernandez fished money from her purse, saying, “You cannot sell Avon looking like that!” Luis’ mother clasped her friend’s hand and bobbed her head. Seeing this, Luis accepted the small wad of ones and put it lovingly in his pocket, taking care not to crumple the corners. The sun scoured the white walls of the liquor store, the graffiti fading in the onslaught of brightness. Sunflower seeds, Hot Cheetos and Lays, bags of spicy candy and jellied fruit dangled from hooks in a patchwork of color. The refrigerators, laden with green, brown, and golden bottles, groaned with age and choked on dust. Street grit crunched beneath his sneakers. Only the waxed cigarette boxes gleamed. “Que te puedo ofreser?” said the store owner over the buzz of a small TV. “Sr. Miguel?” Luis picked up a jar of Sabila. An $8.25 sticker was slapped across the label, and Sra Hernandez had given him less than five dollars. “I need a job.” The storeowner took in Luis’s billowing pajama pants and laughed. “Where’s your mother or father?” “This medicine is for my mother. And Sra. Hernandez said to tell you she’s buying.” Miguel glared at him from behind glasses that were too weak for his prescription. “How old are you?” “12, Señor.” “And why do you need a job? Where is your father?” “He... he...” Luis said. “I am the man of this family now.” Miguel considered how Luis’ jacket hung sloppily over a thin, ragged nightshirt, yet how the dark bags could not dampen the alertness of his eyes. Miguel stroked his oily mustache and remembered a time when his eyes had had a similar daring. “Sra. Hernandez stitched this up.” He patted his right leg with a weathered hand. “I usually give her a discount when she does things for me, but this time I’ll help out one of her friends. This leg of mine doesn’t feel right anymore, so I’ll need some help around the store. If you can do things right for the next few days, I’ll give you $100 a week.” The jar of Sabila fell to the floor. “$100 dollars!” said Luis. When the gray sunlight partitioned his unmemorable dreams, Luis crawled out of his mother’s embrace and waited for Miguel to unlock the shop’s metal door. Luis made the

Alumna flags. Is it there to motivate students to achieve the same amount of success as this distinguished Alumni/Alumna? There is not a single visible art piece on UCSD campus that represents AAPI figures. It brings up the question of where the AAPI community at UCSD is. It is interesting how students have to demand their right to an education, especially cultural identity education. All the top UC’s such as Berkeley and LA offer these courses and I believe it is the reason why these two institutions are placed at the top of the UC rankings. These two institutions make sure their students graduate not only with an education but also with character and self-empowerment.

machines hum gently and the floor squeak. His hands turned to ice as he restocked the beers and the whiskeys. He shined the packaging of dusty, month-old merchandise and polished the sole light bulb hanging from the ceiling. He moved heavy boxes and Miguel would rub his leg and sigh with relief. By the end of the next week, when the dark whistled outside and it was far past dinnertime, Miguel called him to the cash register and put $100 into his shaking, sweaty hand. Luis’s throat went dry and the blood danced about in his head. He crushed the bills tight between his pudgy fingers and ran home with scarcely a breath. Mijo, keep five dollars. No, it’s all for you, Mama. Eyes glistening, she straightened the bills and kissed his forehead. Luis worked Monday till Friday, when other kids were learning how Brutus stabbed Caesar and other vague things like algebra. Luis did not miss stumbling in broken English or teachers telling him he would grow up to be a drunk. His mother regretted it, but she was also afraid that his father would come and take him while he was at school. On their way to the grocery store, they drove by East LA Charter. Luis saw his math teacher walking to his car and conjured up half-memories of how a times table was organized. He only remembered how the poster had alternated yellow and orange rows, bold numbers in black. He snuggled Carla closer to his chest and decided, as their car zipped by, that he didn’t need to know 6x7 anyways. In the aisles, they passed bright boxes of Lunchables, their Caprisuns and Reeses Pieces flaunting themselves through the cut-outs. Captn Crunch and Fruity Pebbles clustered around him. But Luis did not even turn his head in their direction. He helped his mother fill their cart with cheap tortillas, rice, milk, eggs, and applesauce for Carla. The hunger that had ached in his chest when he’d seen the other kids eating their cracker-ham sandwiches seemed a long-forgotten dream. Soon Miguel let Luis start watching the counter. Luis served the tattooed White Fences and the D2Ks in their blue-rimmed shoes. A man flicked his knife open and closed as he examined the array of cigarettes. A woman with tired eyes framed by cheap make-up leaned her spindly arms on the counter and told Luis to stay away from drugs. Meanwhile, Miguel either hung at Luis’ side or in the back door smoking cigarettes. The presence of the old man kept the bums or gangsters from picking on Luis, who quietly served each person and ushered them on their way with minimal see LIQUORERIA on page 10

UCSD Coalition for Critical Asian-American Studies is a student organization that was established this past quarter. Since it is in the early stages, there are not a large number of members. We meet at the Cross Cultural Center every Friday from 2:30pm-3:30 pm. This coalition provides support and love for individuals like me that want to acknowledge the struggles of AAPI community and reclaim their forgotten history. Even though it is frustrating due to the lack of resources such as logistics and budget constraints, it is at the same time rejuvenating and beautiful to experience the passion of the coalition. For more information in joining the fight to reclaim AAPI identity at UCSD, the Coalition for Critical Asian-American Studies email is apiminorucsd@gmail.com.


10 › SAFARI from page 2

nations are modernized countries such as France, England, Germany, and etc. If one scrolls down the bar and see all the pictures displayed under the website category “The Remote Namibia & the Himba tribe”, one can easily find that all the pictures are images of Himba women, topless or with child. This exotic sexuality the website advertise is a traditional theme of the western vs. nonwestern discourse: It presents the idea that women from non-western land are freer and more open to nature than women from the western world. And underlying this glorified openness of the “undeveloped” women is the lack of social structure and civilization in their society. The representation of Himba women holding a child also coincides with the idea prevalent in the Age of Imperialism in that these native people of the foreign untouched land are motherly: they are friendly and always offer kindness and gifts to Westerners who perceive themselves as trustees of the natives. The difference between cultures has been the attraction to travelers for centuries. Businessmen, while advertising the naturalness of the people on the undeveloped land, are unaware of the fact that they put themselves, the westerner, on a superior level to the non-westerner, in this case, the Himba. These pictures displayed on the Safari Drive website does not include images of Himba men and their living places. › LIQUORERIA from page 9

trouble. Miguel said that Luis could watch whatever he wanted on the TV, and Luis nodded and let the news prattle on. After the next week, Miguel made Luis memorize all the prices of the alcohol and let him sell it to the bums who came early in the morning. A small dosage of pride puffed itself alive in Luis’ chest, and he felt as though he was moving up in the ranks. A thin man arrived. Luis guessed that the greasy jeans jacket was his only coat, and the stench that followed him was his only friend. He grinned “good morning” at Luis with blackened gums and took a Cobra from the refrigerator. “Thank you for shopping...” Luis froze. The man from the wanted poster! The man sipped his drink and pocketed his change. “Aren’t you a kid? Where are your cartoons?” The veins in Luis’ neck pulsed mightily, seeming to jerk his whole body. His feet itched to run. Then he was frozen stiff, his knees in a lock. Then he urged to lunge forward and grab the man and hold him on the ground while Miguel called the police, and he would be rich! His family could have the house with the two yards and maybe the swimming pool... And then Luis felt the man’s eyes burn into his brain and felt fear grip his stomach and the world swirled around him in a silent roar. The man saw all this and smiled around the rim of the Cobra. “Stay off the streets kid.” He gripped Luis on the shoulder and left. Miguel puffed on his cigarette and said

volume V, issue 1, october 2011 This is because that between the images of men topless and women topless the latter one attracts more attention. After all, one rarely sees women walking around topless on the street of Western country. Images of women topless seem more like a spectacle than images of others. Moreover, most Westerners have a deeply rooted confidence in that Western culture is modern, civilized, and better than all the rest since the emergence of industrialization and capitalism. This confidence, though almost arrogance, maybe unconscious but once this feeling is revived through images that reflect the discourse in which Western superiority is a major theme, these Westerners are the ones who pay for tickets to the undeveloped country to explore. This is the result of archive of knowledge; most Westerners are exposed to the idea that they discovered the New World; they educated the uncivilized society; they bring in technologies and continue to help the undeveloped. What is left out in the presentation of the Himba tribe on the Safari Drive website is the fact that these natives has their unique social system, they are not museum displays that the mere purpose of their existence is to be watched and explored. One can attempt to present the whole picture of Himba civilization, but then the idea of a trip to Namibia won’t be as attractive to clients whose idea of an African trip is the exotic women. The relationship between the West and Rest is of unequal ones as presented on the from the back door, “Come again!”

That night, Luis wondered if he’d missed his chance to get out of LA. He wondered if he’d just escaped with his life. And what if he called the police and they deported his family? When his mother tried to get him to eat, Luis told only the good news--that Miguel now trusted him with the more important merchandise. The deep lines around her eyes lightened as she slumped backwards into the chair, her legs tired from walking up and down the neighborhood. Sra. Hernandez answered the knock and the door, and Miguel stepped inside the house. “Luis.” He beckoned the boy with a wave of the hand. Once outside, Miguel cleared his throat. “I have something very important for you.’ He pulled a small, copper key out of his pocket. “I have to be out of town tomorrow morning. I need you to open the store for me.” “Yes, Señor,” Luis said immediately and without expression, though he was flooded with honor and hope. Maybe he was on his way to a raise! This thought made encountering the wanted man seem much smaller, especially if he could just work his way to Montebello. “I’ll be back in the afternoon, but I’m leaving tonight. Do a good job for me.” “Yes, Señor.” “You are a man, now.” Luis gently turned the copper key, and the heavy padlock swung open. Dust would have clouded where it landed, but Luis had

Safari Drive website. The picture implies that Namibia is undeveloped; tourists go there because it is wild and mysterious. It elicit the idea that wild women is all that of Namibia to viewers. Not only so, it further extends the discourse that non-western culture is always not as civilized or even worse not civilized at all as the western culture is. The presentation of the Himba tribe may not be as discriminating as it would have been a century ago but the implication of the inferiority of non-western culture to western culture still exists. People with prejudice have their prejudice strengthened and people with formerly less or no prejudice absorb the image of the naturalness and wildness of the non-western world. It is therefore safe to say that regardless of how many “modern” facilities and “development” projects the non-western world has implemented, the relation of equating nonwestern world with exotic sexuality and openness to nature still exists and continues to be influential.

WORK CITED

“Safari Drive, Self Drive Safaris Namibia Himba Travel Diary Photos | Diaries and Photos | Safari Drive.” Safari Drive - Specialist in Self Drive Safaris Throughout Namibia, Botswana, Tanzania, Kenya, Oman, Malawi and Tanzania - Weddings, Honeymoons, 4x4 Hire. Web. 15 Oct. 2011. <http://www.safaridrive.com/ diaries_and_photos/diary_namibia.htm>.

swept the premises everyday. He cranked open the metal door and turned on the lone light bulb. He wiped the already clean counter. By the time it was almost noon he had served an abundance of customers, most of them thinking that Miguel was simply in the back as always. Luis wiped down the TV when he felt the need to look up. It was the wanted man. “Still playing grown up?” He fished a Cobra out of the refrigerator again. Suddenly, Miguel’s absence seemed like a great chasm. The wanted man looked around and knew they were alone as well. Luis began to sweat. “Just your luck,” said the wanted man. He slowly pulled a handgun out of his pocket and leveled it with Luis’ face. “Empty the cash register.” Luis stared at the gun and thought of his mother and sister still sleeping in the apartment moments away. He thought of how they needed clothes, food, and a warm place to sleep. He thought of what might happen if his father found them. Slowly, fat tears started dripping down his cheeks. “Please, I need this job.” The wanted man simply flung his jacket at Luis and shook the barrel in his face. Luis dripped tears onto the dollar bills that he stuffed into the jacket. The wanted man left sipping the Cobra, the gun hanging out of the end of his back pocket. Luis cried and turned off the light bulb. He left the counter damp. He pulled down the metal grate. When Miguel found out, Luis didn’t work at the liquor store again.


uc san diego

volume V, issue 1, october 2011

http://spaces.ucsd.edu 11

CUBA Ahí viene la guagua P-5—ruta por la ciudad de La Habana camión con tremenda historia con partes importadas de afuera de un país industrial de un país imperial El motor ruso, volante y columna de dirección, japonés pero las llantas son de Cuba, sí, de Cuba Ya aquí está la guagua camión verde, o quizás rojo, angosto y largo y en medio de una calle grandísima con carros veloces y otros no tan veloces repleto de cuerpos negros, trigueños, blancos, mulatos Para montar, cuarenta centavos nacionales menos de medio kilo o tal vez nada, por esto no hay que preocuparse Pobre guagua maltratada por el tiempo y la historia asientos rotos, barandales despintados el motor ruso ya no funcionó y el cubano ha tenido que arreglar, trabajar, e inventar así es como sigue la guagüita humilde acarreando a la gente Al montar, toda persona junto a la otra el doctor le cede el asiento a negra jubilada en un rincón la muchacha y su novio abrazados, besándose, agarrados del barandal el joven estudiante de regreso a casa, fundido La guagua se agita mientras corre por las calles malgastadas el motor ruge y la gente se incomoda pero el freaky, por más muela que tenga, ayuda a la vecina que se tropieza el carnicero de la F y 5ta coge la mano del niño No existe de otra este pueblo ha aprendido a hablar, a convivir, a quererse, a ser familia toda persona tan cerca cuerpos juntos a otros respirándose el aliento tocándose Así se vive, así se goza y así es más rica la vida Ahí va la guagua sigue en su camino, marchando hacia adelante con sus tropiezos y logros pero siempre al servicio del pueblo.

DAVÍD MORALES 3 de marzo del 2011 11 y 14 pm

Occupy BY K

Occupation is good? Could be, if it unites College grads and Unburdens us of debt. Protest the hypocrisy: Yes you can! Occupy Wall Street.

David Morales

This is Broke Graduation Haiku BY K

I was lost Then I had found I was lost again.


volume V, issue 1, october 2011

12

CO-EDITORS IN CHIEF Liz Nguyen Regine Reyes

community flyers

STAFF Marisol Castellanos Yvonne Lan Vernesha Potts Laura Sanchez Christine Tran

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Anonymous Linda Chang K Yvonne Law Dylan Lombardi David Morales Maggie Quan Vernesha Potts

PHOTOGRAPHERS Yasmin Aghajan David Morales Shereen Nourollahi Maggie Quan Huma Waseem

ARTISTS Vishnu Gosh

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We want freedom

We want social unity and equality for all people on campus

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We want to promote social awareness and combat social ignorance

4

We want to unite student activists and students with progressive values and common struggles

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We want to educate others about ourstories and our true role in present-day society

The Collective Voice is a student-run, student-initiated publication of UCSD’s SPACES, the Student Promoted Access Center for Education and Service. The mission of the Student Promoted Access Center for Education and Service (SPACES) is to act as an empowering dynamic on campus where UCSD students collaborate to achieve greater educational equity. This encompasses equal access to higher education, undergraduate retention and graduation, and matriculation to graduate and professional schools. SPACES values the power of student-initiated action and organizing by providing an environment for student growth and development and thus is a foundation to create leadership and unity through community engagement. In line with SPACES’ mission of valuing “the power of student-initiated action,” “proving an environment for student growth and development,” and creating “unity through community engagement,” The Collective Voice is UCSD’s progressive newspaper that promotes social unity, justice and awareness across the many communities that exist on the UCSD campus. The Collective Voice will help create a sense of safe space and commu-

nity for students who may otherwise feel unwelcome at UCSD’s challenging campus climate thereby contributing to existing retention efforts of campus. This newspaper deeply values students’ voices by providing an outlet for open dialogue and discussion surrounding issues and developments affecting their communities. Additionally, The Collective Voice allows UCSD’s progressive community to outreach, collaborate and communicate to the greater San Diego communities outside of our campus. Most importantly, The Collective Voice, provides marginalized students and underresourced students the empowering opportunity to protect the representation of their identities and beliefs, and report alternative news that is not otherwise covered by mainstream media. The Collective Voice, in partnership with SPACES, allows for the creation of “an empowering dynamic where UCSD students collaborate to achieve greater educational equity.” It is through this mission that the collective of diverse voices in one newspaper will actively demonstrate an empowering progressive community on the UCSD campus.

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We want educational equity and to empower under resourced communities

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We want to fight the rhetoric propagated by oppressive forces on campus

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We want our beliefs, practices, and ethics to be illustrated in a correct light

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We want peace. The ability to coexist on campus without fear of prejudice or persecution

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We want to be recognized as equal individuals despite and because of our ethnicity, religious affiliation, race, gender, or sexual orientation c v e d i to r s @ g m a i l . c o m


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