The Intersectionalist Volume 1 Issue 4

Page 1


CONTENT 3 Feature | 4

8 11

Letter from the Editors “You want to celebrate and be as authentic as you can to the culture you’re portraying:” Adele Lim on Her Career in Screenwriting And The Significance of Asian Representation in Films The Power of Pleasure Activism International Student Experiences During The Pandemic

Culture | 14 How the Increase of Hate Crimes agianst Asian Americans Is Affecting The Asian Community 17 Reenvisioning Understanding of Consent 20 Racism in Healthcare: How The Stigma of Black Mental Health Prohibits Access to Care Identity | 23 I Am Not Your Fetish 26 I Am More Than My Trauma 28 How The Fashion Industry Perpetuates Plus-Size Discrimination

The Intersectionalist Mel Curry

Eryn McCallum

Ziqi Wang

Shruti Rajkumar

Emily Cardona

Eliana Flores-Barber

Co-Chair

Features Chair

Culture Co-Chair

Co-Chair

Identity Chair

Culture Co-Chair

Charlotte Drummond Tivara Tanudjaja Copy Editor

Copy Editor

Jilly Towson

Christine Park

Ricky Kalayci

Sonali Anand

Social Media Chair

Head Photographer

Graphic Design Chair

Magazine Designer

Liza Xiao

Althea Champion

Maura Cowan

Damica Feliciano

Magazine Designer

Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Caroline Hurley

Alexa Maddi

Jordan Owens

Gabriella Perez

Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Adelaide Taylor Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Staff Writer

Sydney Taylor Staff Writer

ISSUE NO.4


Letter from the Editors It’s been a year since our lives were disrupted by COVID-19. In this year of grieving, suffering, and pain, we want to acknowledge the lives of each person lost. We want to touch upon the discrimination and acts of hate against Asian Americans and Asian communities. The hate crimes against the Asian communities and their elders is just another sign in history of the racism and xenophobia against Asian people in the United States. Most people, specifically white communities, believe that Asians are the “best” minority group in this country. But this perspective, also known as the model minority myth, is harmful — it devalues the experiences of Asian communities and further disenfranchises Black and Brown people. The model minority myth currently plays a role in the lack of media and societal attention towards the recent anti-Asian hate crimes. White communities assume that Asian people do not suffer the effects of racism and xenophobia because of outdated stereotypes and income statistics. The former president of the U.S. normalized making outwardly anti-Asian sentiments and language by calling the virus “Wuhan virus,” “Kung Flu” and the “China virus,” as referenced in staff writer Alexa Maddi’s article “How the increase of hate crimes against Asian Americans is affecting the Asian community” [pg. 14]. This language encouraged violence against the Asian community and has caused widespread fear for Asian lives in this country. We wanted to dedicate March’s issue to the Asian community and their voices. We stand in solidarity with Asian communities across the world, our Asian readers, and our Asian co-workers. This fight is not yours alone; liberation without everyone is not liberation at all. Until next time, Mel & Eryn


Feature Courtesy of Ricky Widdlesworth. Adele Lim, '96, stresses the importance of finding and employing your voice as an artist of color, because that is what benefited her most in writing "Crazy Rich Asians" (2018) and "Raya and the Last Dragon," her newest film available in theaters and Disney+.

“You want to celebrate and be as authentic as you can to the culture you’re portraying:” Adele Lim on Her Career in Screenwriting And The Significance of Asian Representation in Films


The Intersectionalist By Althea Champion In her 17 years of screenwriting for television, Adele Lim never wrote for a lead that looked like her until "Crazy Rich Asians." The film, which earned $35 million within the first five days of its release, spoke specifically to her culture as an Asian-American woman. Two years later, on Friday, March 5, 2021, Lim’s newest project premiered—the Disney animated feature film "Raya and the Last Dragon,” which is inspired by the cultures of Southeast Asia, where she grew up. As a child in Malaysia, Lim diligently watched television, specifically the “Andy Griffith Show” and “Manimal.” However, despite her passion for writing, she did not know that writing for television was an option. She figured she would be "an underpaid novelist or work in magazines or newspapers."

The Intersectionalist spoke with Lim over Zoom on Feb. 15 about the importance of Asian representation in media, how she was able to employ her voice in her most successful projects to date, and the challenges she faced in getting to the place she is now in the industry.

“It is easy to feel that it's a big monolithic system out there, and it's hard to break into,” Lim said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. “But I would say, whoever you are, wherever you come from, that you have a specific point of view and you have a story that needs to be told, and it is on you to tell that story, however you do it.”

Everything changed, though, when Jon Chu [the director of “Crazy Rich Asians”] gave me a call.

Q: Did you expect "Crazy Rich Asians" to be the kind of breakout hit that it was?

A: Oh hell no. In the industry, it's hard to get a TV show on the air. It is a hundred times harder to get The following interview was edited a feature movie made. There are for clarity and style. so many variables, and specifically for a movie with all Asian actors, Q: How did you get into film? we don't have the same sort of A: At Emerson, I met other young go-to list of A-list actors. But what people and met my boyfriend at the helped us tremendously was Kevin time who said, I want to drive to LA Kwan's book. Kevin Kwan is a and write for TV. And I was like, [Singaporean-American] writer. Holy crap, that's an option? People He wrote this book that exploded can just do that? So that's what we [in the US], which was fantastic. did. We had zero money. I was like, I loved reading it because it was I'll be fine. I mean, it's great to be really a joyful celebration of our ignorant when you're young, by the culture. And it really took off with way. I highly recommend it. You all these book clubs in America, so should not know how hard it is. the studios had this reassurance. You should just go out and just do the thing. And the most touching part of the

Q: And what happened after Lim currently lives in Los Angeles that? and, with "Crazy Rich Asians" and "Raya and the Last Dragon" under her belt, her perspective on being a minority in the film industry has shifted.

5.

A: A very long story short, we both just hustled our asses off. I got my first job as a writer's assistant on “Xena: Warrior Princess.” And that kicked off a 17, coming on 20 years, career in TV. And I had no plans of getting into film, because it wasn't a medium that spoke to me… I have to say, I think it's because movies weren't necessarily made with me in mind, and it's not just about representation of having someone who looks like you — although that matters, but a lot of these big, huge blockbuster movies spoke specifically to very white men, so it never really resonated with me.

experience was that there were all these different communities… reaching out to us saying, this speaks to my culture also, and it's something that we haven't seen on screen. So there are things that are universal truths that maybe aren't as familiar to…what we're used to seeing on screen. Leaning into cultural specificity was something fresh and was something that people connected with, so we were beyond excited about that. You want to be as specific, and you want to celebrate and be as authentic as you can to the culture you're portraying. And if you do it right, it will also resonate with other people. And that's really what we lucked in on.


The Intersectionalist

Q: I know you stepped down from writing the sequel to "Crazy Rich Asians" because you were being paid much less than your white male counterpart, with whom you wrote the script with. According to the Hollywood Reporter, about $800,000 less. Do you want to talk about that a little bit? A: It's a lot of pressure, and it's embarrassing, and nobody—no writer, no creative person—wants to come out and say what I did, because this is a business of references, of reputations, and no one sets out wanting to be the poster girl for pay equity. But it was something important, and it had to be said, because whatever inequity exists in television, it's so much more in features, because again it's so hard to make a movie, that the people who end up going to the top of their field, are people who are given the opportunities again and again and again and again, and it tends to be white men even to this day. So, it was an important point for me to make, but I didn't want that to define me as a person or define my career moving forward.

Q: Do you feel good about your decision to speak out?

A: I would say, coming out on the other side, I'm very glad I did it. Because the most rewarding part of it really was all the women who reached out to me — women and men — people who've been marginalized, whether they were women, whether they were LGBTQ, whether they were people of color, reaching out and saying, I've

experienced this. And there were a lot of people who felt that they now had the support they needed to step forward and tell their story, or to step forward and really fight for what they were due, or to demand that they be treated equally or that they were paid equally, and that's the important point to me. We're also at a different point in entertainment right now—again, I've worked in it for a long time.

There were talks about diversity and equity and representation, and for a long time, it felt like tokenism. And I really do believe we're at the point where we're in the early stages of making significant, lasting change because it's not just about what you see on screen. It really is about content creators. Q: Do you think the environment for minority filmmakers is getting better in Hollywood?

A: Well, it's hard to say if it's necessarily getting much better. We're in a weird year. We're not in the same writers' rooms, the medium has changed too. Now with the streamers who have a global audience, and Netflix and Amazon and Hulu and Apple, there's such a demand for content, so the opportunities for storytelling

6. are huge, and who they are looking to for those stories is changing. I would say that there are more opportunities for women and people of color to tell their stories, and they have a better chance of it getting made and getting the support it needs. Where it becomes an issue is that traditionally, those people have not been given the same opportunities in the past. So when you talk about either skill level, or experience working within a system, or how to get a project off the ground and made, a lot of the crew, a lot of the infrastructure is still of the old system, and that's something you have to traverse. So, there are more opportunities, but it doesn't mean that suddenly it's an equal playing field, because it's not. The issue we're dealing with is that traditionally in our system, the only people who got to tell stories were white men, so the only people who got to write the scripts about Asian women [and] Black women were not from our community. And, on top of that, were not necessarily people who had a particular love or familiarity with the culture that they were depicting. Because of that, there needs to be an effort to correct this before you can say anyone can write for anyone.

Q: So, moving onto "Raya and the Last Dragon," is that stuffed animal [behind Lim in the Zoom window frame] a dragon from the film? Lim held up a figurine of the star of her new film, beaming.


The Intersectionalist A: This is Sisu. She is a Southeast Asian dragon, which is a very different dragon from what you're used to — no wings, no firebreathing. They're not agents of destruction. When we talk about this, a lot of our storytelling, whether we realize it or not, is sort of based in Judeo-Christian concepts: there's a good, and a bad, and a God, and a devil, and certain things represent good or bad. For us, and for Asians, dragons are wonderful creatures that are auspicious and bring wonderful things. So with "Raya," it was this amazing opportunity to tell an original story inspired by the cultures of Southeast Asia, and really try to do it justice. That was one of the wonderful, very new experiences for me working with Disney. They take the time and the care to get it done right.

Q: I'm so excited to see it. Earlier you were talking about the importance of cultural specificities. What kind of cultural specificities from your experience growing up are in the movie? A: It's hard to break down, because it's not just about one specific element that you put into the movie. It really is also your voice. And this is circling back to us talking about how important it is for content creators to either be of the culture or have an understanding and appreciation of the culture. Disney sent its creative teams to Southeast Asia and had a

lot of cultural consultants working from day one…

It's not just about going to a culture, picking what feels right and looks pretty, and sticking that in. It's having a continuing conversation to make sure that the authenticity is there, even though we are in a fantasy world. We wanted to make sure that what is at its heart feels true and is resonant. So parts of the culture, which also feel very specific to us, is the sense of community. In a lot of Western storytelling, it is about one single hero riding in to save the day. And even if there is a teamwork element to it, it really is about that one person. It's less about you sticking out as an individual — and sometimes Asian storytelling gets a bad rap for that. It really is appreciating that we would not have the successes in our lives if it wasn't for this community of people who loved us and supported us and were invested in us, and it is on us to also feel that responsibility for the people in our community.

Q: What was your reaction to "Raya" when you first saw it in its entirety?

A: My mind was completely blown. I know the story forwards and backwards, I know what's going to happen, and still, I felt surprised and emotional, and maybe because I'm

7. so close to it, I cried for all the wrong reasons. I never thought I'd see that on screen. I never thought I'd see a Southeast Asian Disney princess lead on screen, and here it is. I think it's the most beautiful animated movie Disney's ever made.


8.

The Intersectionalist

The Power of Pleasure Activism stress, tiredness, and frustration, brown said. By Cari Hurley

Note: Author and activist adrienne maree brown stylizes their name in lowercase, so the Intersectionalist has done the same in the following article. Any activist knows that creating systemic change is tiring, especially since progress can be excruciatingly slow. Those at the forefront of this labor are often overworked and heavily depended upon, without regard for their well-being. As a result, many social justice spaces are immersed in a culture of stress, suffering and martyrdom. But, what if that wasn’t the only way to practice activism? Pleasure activism, a potential new approach to social justice work that can combat the mental and physical health consequences experienced by activists, was popularized by author and activist adrienne maree brown in their 2019 novel, “Pleasure Activism: The Politics of Feeling Good.” The approach seeks to show that activism doesn’t always need to be characterized by

“[Pleasure activism is] making justice and liberation the most pleasurable experiences we can have. Learning that pleasure gets lost under the weight of oppression, and it is liberatory work to reclaim it,” brown said in a 2019 interview with Repeller. In the same interview, brown says they first heard the term “pleasure activism” from late harm reduction and AIDS activist Keith Cylar. The idea of incorporating pleasure into activism comes from a lineage of Black activists and thinkers who have written about joy as an act of resistance. Many people find pleasure activism hard to imagine because of how society’s relationship to pleasure is distorted by capitalism, brown said in a 2019 interview with the “Call Your Girlfriend” podcast. When our society does encourage pleasure, it is most often that of white men and women. The presence of capitalism and white supremacy in self-care and self-help spaces is made clear by wealthy white women’s domination of these

spaces. brown said they encourage those who are engaged in social justice and activism to prioritize reclaiming their pleasure from these structures.

Pleasure, as brown speaks of it, does not only include sexual activity, but also things like humor, dance, food, song, friendship, and community, they said. Dr. Sami Schalk, University of Madison-Wisconsin professor and a contributor to “Pleasure Activism”, said she incorporates pleasure into her work with Black Lives Matter and other protest movements by expressing herself through colorful fashion, serving food at protests, hosting musical and drag performances, and creating safespace tents for people of color.

Graph Christ Park


hic by tine

The Intersectionalist “Pleasure is inherently political,” Schalk said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. “Being alive and being joyful in the midst of oppression is a form of resistance when that’s not what the world wants us to do.” For brown, pleasure activism became significant to their career after they realized what constant activism could do to a person. Along with writing books and advocating for

justice and liberation, brown is a Black feminist, doula, and organizer that has made a career in social justice work for 21 years, much of which has been emotionally tolling. In movement spaces, it is all too common for Black women like themself to take on extreme workloads, brown says. “I floated around busting my butt for the movement, repressing my need for healing, for health, for a living wage, for respect, for

9. consideration, for sleep… I confused numbing myself and escaping for pleasure,” brown said during a keynote address at the SoulSista Search virtual conference in Dec. 2020. In their twenties, brown said they began to experience suicidal ideation as a result of this pressure. It was at that point that brown came across Audre Lorde’s “Uses of The Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” a book which changed their outlook on activism. “Reading Audre, and looking at my life,” brown said in their keynote address, “I had this awakening – I am not constructed for suffering. I am not a miraculous being meant to toil to the bone for other people’s imaginations which are based in me shrinking and serving them.” As a Black queer disabled woman, Schalk said she also knows that many systems of oppression were built to work against her health and well-being. Thus, it is all the more important for her to prioritize her pleasure. She has experienced activism spaces where an overwhelming sense of anger and urgency pushed activists to burnout and she is not attracted to that


The Intersectionalist environment, she said. Emerson College Vice President for Equity and Social Justice Sylvia Spears said her and her colleagues struggle with the harm the oppressive structures of academia have created. Dr. Spears is a Black woman who works closely with many Black, Indigenous, and students of color to fight for racial justice at Emerson. She said reading “Pleasure Activism” reminded her to prioritize her wellbeing and joy in the midst of this difficult work. “You can end up where you are so entrenched in that work that you’re actually devoid of anything that’s nourishing, pleasurable, enjoyable, or liberatory in its effect,” Dr. Spears said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. Spears said she finds the greatest solidarity and pleasure in working with Emerson’s students. She also said that sharing values and goals with the younger generation makes her feel less alone and brings her hope for the change these students will create. Recently, Spears was inspired by the pleasure activism demonstrated amongst the student organizers of Emerson Students of Color Week of Action, she said. During this social

media campaign, which called for racial justice at Emerson, Spears said she saw examples of pleasure activism in the way that students cared for, loved, and shouted out each other during Instagram live streams. Spears said she knows that advocacy work is painful, tiring, and urgent for BIPOC students who are struggling to gain access to an equal and safe educational environment at Emerson. But she believes that practicing pleasure activism in the midst of this work is essential to avoiding burn out and creating sustainable, long-term change. At a creative institution like Emerson, Spears said she believes the community has the ability to imagine the world they want to see. Practicing pleasure activism means bringing parts of that world into the present. “If we can create extraordinary films, beautiful literature and poetry and marketing and performances, we actually have the ability to reimagine the future and a future without oppression,” says Spears. “If we can do that, then we can snatch away glimpses of that [future] into our activism.”

10.


International Student Experiences During The Pandemic By Jordan Owens


The Intersectionalist On March 13, 2020, creative writing major Lisa Simonis, was scared when she received two pieces of bad news: the Emerson residence halls were about to close and the country of Colombia, her home, would be closing its borders to slow the spread of COVID-19.

Justin Chen, a first-year journalism major, said that obtaining a visa to come to the U.S. was a challenge for him—one that ultimately ended in him not being able to return to campus.

“I was at risk of being stranded in the U.S. with nowhere to stay, so I decided to come back here to my home and just ride out the pandemic,” Simonis said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. “I think if I would have been given the option, maybe I would have stayed in Boston, but at the time, it was not an option.”

“The [U.S.] embassy in China is still closed. My visa has actually expired,” Chen said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. “So, I feel like I am forcefully sacrificing my education.”

Three months later, Emerson announced that students were welcome to come back to campus for the fall semester and participate in the Flex learning option, partially in-person, and partially online classes. However, some international students did not have the luxury of choosing whether to return or not. Thus, many international students were forced to take classes online from home because of travel restrictions and the uncertainty resulting from constant fluctuations in visa policies.

Many international students were forced to take classes online from home because of travel restrictions and the uncertainty resulting from constant fluctuations in visa policies.

12.

Thus, Chen and Minseo Kwon, a first-year Visual and Media Arts major from South Korea, were forced to take online classes. Kwon said learning online and establishing Courtesy photo by Joseph Chen. relationships with Justin Chen, first-year journalism student, expresses his professors was feelings about being an online international student and difficult during the fall how it affected him. semester because of time and scheduling with the frustrations of poor differences along with not having as internet connection and classes much hands on experiences. based on Eastern Standard Time, which is 12 hours behind China, “I took an intro to visual arts class Chen said. He also said the time [which] didn’t do an in-person class zone has negatively impacted his or a [synchronous class],” Kwon physical and mental health because said in a Zoom interview with the he has to be awake after midnight Intersectionalist. “[The professor] in order to attend his classes. only uploaded a five-minute or tenminute video, and she wanted us On top of struggling with classes, to figure out all the assignments by international students that have only reading the textbook and that been forced to stay home during was kind of hard for me.” the pandemic were unable to experience the extracurricular Studying from home also comes side of college: student-led


The Intersectionalist organizations and events. Kwon said it was difficult to gain access to information on how to join organizations because she did not fully understand EmConnect and did not realize that they had social media accounts. Kwon said the constant conflict of not being able to fully understand schoolwork and be involved with the Emerson community is part of the reason why she decided to come to Boston for the spring 2021 semester. “I thought by coming to campus I can be connected more to other people and concentrated on my studies,” Kwon said. The process of obtaining Kwon’s student visa was extremely long and stressful. Kwon described the process as having to fill out numerous forms and registering to get an interview months in

13.

advance of the spring semester. She also said part of the stress of getting a visa came from having to organize documents about her educational, travel, and family background.

comfortable spending the end of her college career at home and online because it forced her to participate more while being safe in her home.

“If I get denied from the visa interview, then there are some restrictions [on doing] the visa interview again and coming back to the U.S.,” Kwon said. “So, I was very nervous when I was preparing for the visa interview.”

One positive element to not coming back on campus is that international students at home have been able to spend more quality time with their families, Chen said. After moving to the United States without his parents in the sixthgrade, he said he is thankful to finally be in their company.

For international graduating seniors, staying connected to the other students in their class as they transition into the next stage of their lives is made more difficult by the cancellation of in-person graduation. Simonis said she is not able to say goodbye to Emerson friends the way she would have wanted.

“The only time that I saw them from middle school all the way to the end [of] high school is my high school graduation,” Chen said. “I didn't go back to China at all, so now I am able to spend more time with my family, with my cousins.”

Chen said he is annoyed that his “Having to graduate opportunity of learning in person online, I think there [is] at Emerson has been robbed but no closure,” Simonis looks forward to the day that he said. “You don’t get to and other international students say goodbye. You’re can return and get the full college so in a rush.” experience they deserve. However, Simonis also said she was more

Courtesy photo by Minseo Kwon. Minseo Kwon, first-year VMA student, describes her experience being online Fall 2020 and why she decided to come to Emerson’s Boston campus this semester.

“International students are one of the most important components of the Emerson community,” Chen said. “Without international students returning to campus, the school will never be complete.”


Culture

How The Increase of Hate Crimes against Asian Americans Is Affecting The Asian Community

By Alexa Maddi

First-year theatre and performance major Qingshi “Rocky” Meng is among the many Asian people who faced an increasing amount of racist and xenophobic discrimination since the COVID-19 pandemic first hit the United States in January 2020. Meng said one form this discrimination comes in is racist jokes, which initially started in his last few months of high school. “We were all hanging in the lounges, and the topic somehow got to the Coronavirus and then [someone] was like ‘Nah, Rocky, I can’t sit next to you like you got [the virus] cause you’re Chinese,’” Meng said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. In December 2019, the first case of the COVID-19 virus was found in Wuhan, China and has since spread globally into a pandemic, according

to the World Health Organization. Over the past year, the increase in anti-Asian hate crimes has resulted in constant anxiety and fear for the Asian community.

“We, and especially Chinese folks and people of East Asian descent, are seen as the ones who caused the pandemic when that is not the case,” said jay wirasto (who requested to write her name in lowercase), a sophomore international student from Malaysia. “Our lives have also had to change because of the pandemic, which in itself is such a struggle, and then we have to live with these accusations and now these increasingly widespread hate crimes.” According to a report by United Nations officials, former President Donald Trump played an instrumental role in the increase of anti-Asian sentiment and hate crimes against Asian people in the United States. President Trump frequently used anti-Asian hate speech, such as referring to the

COVID-19 virus as the “Wuhan virus,” “Kung Flu” and the “China virus.” His xenophobic and racist rhetoric alone resulted in the normalization of anti-Asian sentiment across the country.

There have been 2,808 reports of anti-Asian hate crimes in the U.S. from Mar. 19 to Dec. 31, 2020, according to Stop AAPI Hate, a nonprofit reporting center that was founded at the beginning of the pandemic in response to the surge of violence against the Asian American and Pacific Islander community). They also found that 7.3 percent of all incidents involved violence against Asian Americans over 60 years old. Max Boone, a senior musical theatre major and co-chair of Protesting Oppression with Educational Reform (POWER), said he is afraid of coughing or sneezing in public because he worries about the perception of an Asian person contracting COVID-19.


The Intersectionalist

“I’m identifiably Asian, and to be seeing so many people being harassed and attacked who look like I do, because they look like I do, is incredibly frightening,” Boone said in an interview with The Intersectionalist. In addition to the recent uptick of racial violence causing anxiety and fear, many within the Asian community are disappointed in the lack of media coverage on these events. wirasto said that she is not surprised that news organizations are giving little to no exposure to the rise of anti-Asian hate crimes,

which only adds to her conflicting view of the media industry and the role it plays in society. “On one hand, it is the career I am studying and training for. On the other, the industry is corrupt because of conglomerates and objectivity is a white supremacist construct,” wirasto said. Boone said that discrimination against the Asian community is likely not being covered by the media due to the model minority myth, which downplays the racism Asian people face due to the ethnic group’s overall academic and economic success.

Graphic by Christine Park Hate crimes against Asian Americans have significantly risen since the pandemic began, leaving the Asian community in fear.

15.

“To shatter that illusion [of the ‘model minority’ myth] would be to admit that white people set the whole thing up to drive a wedge between [Black, Indigenous, and people of color] communities, thus preventing collective action and liberation,” he said.

Since society has bought into the model minority myth for so long, many people are not aware of the racism Asian people face, Boone said.


The Intersectionalist He also added that although it is important to acknowledge that East and some Southeast Asian people have proximity to whiteness, they will never truly be white. “I’m literally a U.S. citizen, more or less having never known another home. I was raised by two all-American white people in a privileged, predominantly white neighborhood,” he said. “And yet, in my job as a server, I have been complimented on my English, my first and only language, and asked where I’m from, despite having spent less than one year in my birthplace, both on multiple occasions.” With the common misconception from non-Asian people that the Asian community does not experience racism, Meng said he believes his peers are not efficiently speaking up against the anti-Asian hate crimes happening in the United States. “At the end of the day, the only people who are speaking up against hate crimes against Asians are Asians ourselves, and that is a really

sad fact,” Meng said. “Just repost on your Instagram stories. That’s the least y’all can do.” First-year visual and media arts major Aries Fung, who is an immigrant from China, said many Emerson students partake in performative activism. According to the Wisconsin Union, performative activism is activism done to expand one’s social capital, which counterproductively results in privileged individuals treating human rights movements as “trends.” “I don’t want Asian American violence to somehow overtake and be the next trend after Black Lives Matter,” he said. “It’s like Black Lives Matter is still going on, this is still very much a topic that needs to be talked about, and I feel like everyone is very much like, ‘Oh yeah, we’re done with that, this is the new trend now.’” For non-Asian people to step up and support the Asian community, wirasto said they should let their Asian friends decide how they can assist them.

16.

“For me, it would be nice for my friends to come to [Asian Students in Alliance] meetings and be present not just ‘during these times,’ but consistently,” she said. Boone said it is important for non-Asian Americans to utilize their voice and educate themselves on anti-Asian racism because he believes that the Asian community alone will not be taken seriously. “Racism against Asian people is minimized to just ‘microaggressions’ and ‘jokes’ and because of ‘cultural values’ and white America’s stereotypes of Asians,” he said. “Asian Americans have been conditioned to not speak up for ourselves.” Boone also said non-Asian Americans should check in on any Asian people in their lives. “Maybe not that one Asian kid you’ve never spoken to in your intro to college writing class. But if you have a good friend, just let them know you love them and care about them,” he said.


The Intersectionalist

17.

Reenvisioning Understandings of Consent By Damica Feliciano

Graphic by Ricki Kalayci Enthusiastic consent isn’t simply looking for the absence of no, but the presence of yes.


The Intersectionalist How do I know what I want? Readers asked this 13 years ago when author and activist Jacyln Friedman published her novel, “Yes Means Yes!: Visions of Female Power and a World Without Rape.” Her answer: enthusiastic consent.

Enthusiastic consent is actively engaging and affirming to all sexual or intimate activities but also prioritizing communication of our desires, Friedman said. While there isn’t a specific way to practice enthusiastic consent, Friedman said it can be a model for checking in on our intimate partners and seeing if they are present physically, mentally and emotionally. “After ‘Yes Means Yes’ came out, we were touring around with the book, and the number one question I heard from young women was: ‘I like this idea of enthusiastic consent, but how do I know what I want?’” Friedman said in a Zoom interview with The Intersectionalist. “[Affirmative consent] requires us to have some fluency with what we want and be able to talk about it which can be really hard.”

Enthusiastic consent opens a framework of trust and open communication that takes place before and during sex. However, it isn’t as simple as an energetic “hell yes.” Friedman said it is a way to express a meaningful ‘yes’ but that agreeing to one sexual act doesn’t mean it covers all acts. Over the years, she said that the idea around “Yes Means Yes” has been misunderstood as simply looking for an affirmative response without further communication. “Given the oppressive heteronormativity in the sexual culture that we live in, [No Means No] in practice winds up leaving women as the gatekeepers of ’no’ and if we don’t say no ‘hard enough,’ whatever happens it’s our fault,” Friedman said.

Embracing enthusiastic consent also means embracing sexual agency, or our power of choice, that often gets ignored, Friedman said. She also said that allowing this idea to become a cultural norm can

18. help distinguish consensual and non consensual acts and how our desires are prioritized by intimate partners. “[Yes Means Yes] makes a lot of cultural space for all of us, including many of us who are stigmatized for saying we want things from sex, to start articulating our needs and desires rather than defending boundaries,” Friedman said. Dr. Rachel Stanton, a licensed therapist specialized in EMDR and sensorimotor psychotherapy, said consent isn’t concrete, so there have to be other effective ways of practicing enthusiastic consent than just verbal affirmation. She said that even though sexual activity can be passionate and make people focus on the heat of the moment, sex and intimacy should be a continuous checking-in process. “It’s a minute-to-minute process,” Stanton said in a Google Meets interview with The Intersectionalist. “You have to keep being vigilant and ask yourself, ‘Is this person enjoying this?’ If you’re having sex in one position but then you request to switch to another position — you’re modeling that check-in process and honoring that shift.”


The Intersectionalist For example, a 2019 study by Taylor & Francis Group found that nearly a quarter of adult women in the United States felt fear during sex. The study revealed that the 347 respondents experienced this fear during unexpected choking, hair pulling, spitting, being pinned down, undiscussed anal sex and engaging in sex positions they didn’t like. “You have to be actively practicing affirmative consent the entire time, or it’s not consensual,” Friedman said. “All of us can withdraw consent at any time, and also, you can’t just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to sex because that means different acts to different people. Like if I say ‘yes’ to sex — what does that include, and for how long? There’s no shortcut for affirmative consent.” Checking for consent and pleasure before and during sex considers multiple factors such as body language, facial expressions and signs of active participation, Stanton said. She also said these factors are a significant piece of enthusiastic

consent because there are instances where we may say ‘yes’ when our bodies show the opposite. “When people want to be intimate, they get close. We want to make movements towards each other or with each other to show that we want touch,” Stanton said. “We also want to look for facial expressions too because while there’s not a particular expression that signals consent, we want to pay attention to if their body and face match each other. And if you’re not sure — ask. Sometimes pain and pleasure can look similar in facial expressions, so ask, ’Does this feel good?’” The ideologies around enthusiastic consent also reveal various sex stigmas within queer communities, Black, Indigenous, people of color communities and gender identities. Friedman said this intersectionality between sex and other marginalized identities can be toxic, especially when their autonomy is oppressed in other ways. “A lot of us get raised not knowing that sex is supposed to be pleasurable for us. A lot of folks in those [marginalized] groups get raised thinking about ourselves and our sexual value being in how

19. much we please other people or how much other people find us appealing or not,” Friedman said.

Affirmative consent can really help to shift and heal that so that like you can have desires, not just be desired. Navigating sex and intimacy can be very daunting at first, but Friedman suggests practicing enthusiastic consent on things that are nonsexual can make it more comfortable. This can, in turn, strengthen the dynamic between a meaningful ‘yes’ and ‘no’ and sticking to them. “Whatever feels like low-stake boundary violations that have nothing to do with sex are a great place to practice setting those boundaries,” Friedman said. “Saying ‘I want something’ is really different from saying ‘I’m taking this and I’m not asking you.’ It’s so stigmatized for young women, especially for young women of color, to take that power because the culture doesn’t want you to have power, but not because you don’t deserve it.”


20.

The Intersectionalist

Racism in Healthcare: How The Stigma of Black Mental Health Prohibits Access to Care By Sydney Taylor

Graphic by Ricki Kalayci “Just cheer up” or “try to relax” are phrases many have heard if they suffer from a mental illness. Not only are these phrases infuriating, but they also perpetuate the

common misconception that you can choose happiness. This is one example of how public stigma or discriminatory attitudes that people have about mental illness, can harm

and internalize shame in people with mental health concerns. In most Black communities, there is a long withstanding belief that


The Intersectionalist mental health issues are a sign of weakness and should be kept secret from others. Such beliefs are formed through experience, cultural traditions and stories. This stigma, along with a mistrust in the medical system, leads to a reluctance to receive help. “Internalized stigma can play out as ignoring and minimizing what oneself and one’s friends and family are experiencing,” Melanie Matson, director and counselor for Healing and Advocacy Collective, said in an interview with The Intersectionalist. Dana Givens, a Black journalist at The New York Times, was hospitalized after experiencing a severe panic attack. However, due to her pride and fear of judgment, she went back to work the next day and did not tell any of her concerned co-workers what had happened. “When I was growing up in a predominantly Black community in Harlem, therapy was stigmatized as something for people who could not handle challenges. Even as an adult, I feared that if I went to a therapist, someone I knew would see me and tell my family and friends, so I hid in deep shame,” Givens said in an interview with The New York Times. Familial shame is common among several Black American men and women with mental health concerns and diagnoses, according to The National Alliance on Mental Illness. They are fearful of seeking treatment because they believe it may reflect badly on

their family for not being able to handle problems internally. There is a large stigma within the African American community as opposed to white cultures. Similarly, Hafeezah Nazim, freelance journalist, started going to therapy five years ago. However, her biggest fear was her family’s views on mental health. “There was always a sense of paranoia about me venting about my feelings for fear that people would know my ‘family business,’ that my family would be seen as dysfunctional,” Nazim said in an interview with Psycom. “Those ideas were passed down generationally to my parents and were taught to my siblings and I.” Shaun J. Fletcher, a professor at San Jose State University who has also battled with mental illness, researched health disparities among African American men. He said the way in which African Americans communicate about their mental health is largely based on how they are socialized. “I was socialized in such a way that I thought was healthy, but it was precluding me from dealing with mental health for what it truly was and the great impact that it had,” Fletcher said in an

21. interview with The New York Times. Fletcher also said that African Americans are raised to believe that they must have a tough skin at all times in order to survive. This concept is proven through several accounts of African Americans with differing levels of mental illnesses. “In the midst of a depressive episode, I had a friend say to me, ‘We are the descendants of those who survived the Middle Passage and slavery. Whatever you’re going through cannot be that bad,’” Monica A. Coleman, professor and blogger, told The Huffington Post. “But that comment just made me feel small and selfish and far worse than before.” Stereotypes, microaggressions and other forms of racism have taught Black communities that they do not have the privilege to be vulnerable. This is further heightened with history that has shown that Black people do not receive adequate care from the healthcare system.


22.

The Intersectionalist “From eugenics to the bell curve, historically the psychology community has bred mistrust in Black communities through unethical treatment, exploitative experimentation and general deficit-based and culturallyincompetent treatment,” Dr. Janelle S. Peifer, a licensed clinical psychologist, told Psycom. According to The Office of Minority Health at The United States Department of Health and Human Services, African Americans are 20

percent more likely to experience serious mental health problems than the general population. However, 30 percent of Black American adults with mental health conditions receive treatment each year, compared to the United States average of 43 percent, according to the National Institute of Mental Health.

Black Americans who are living with serious mental

health conditions are either unable to access mental healthcare or are unaware of their options due to barriers. Jardin Dogan, therapist and founder of @blkfolkxtherapy, said that most therapists receive training from the experiences of white people’s norms, values and beliefs which could hold significance in the competency of non-Black therapists. Thus, many clinicians are not aware of how culture, race, or ethnicity impact African Americans’ mental wellbeing. Hafeezah Nazim said she experienced when she began to go to therapy. “So much of what ended up coming to light in my sessions were tied to my identity, and I found myself needing to explain a lot of nuanced things tied to race and gender to my therapist, who was both white and male,” Nazim said in an interview with Psycom. Systemic racism and lack of culturally sensitive treatment by providers cause Black communities to view the mental health field as a system that causes substantial harm, according to Very Well Mind. However, more mental health centers are becoming inclusive in their treatment. For example,

at Emerson College, resources such as Emerson Counseling and Psychological Services are working to make help more accessible to African American students. “ECAPS, just like many Emerson systems, has work to do in better serving students of color at Emerson. This is a priority of our department, and we have some initiatives to address this within our center,” Kyle Rundles, Associate Director, Counseling Services, said in an interview with The Intersectionalist. The Black Emotional and Mental Health organization is another foundation working towards lifting barriers and stigmas of mental health. They offer training and programs, which are designed to incorporate emotional justice, equity and wellness into their approach. Other resources, such as The Boris Lawrence Henson Foundation and Innopsych, are also doing the work of making mental health more equitable for Black communities. Black Americans deserve to have resources for their mental wellbeing, and an equitable healthcare system is one step forward toward justice for the African American community.


Identity I Am More Than My Trauma

By Maura Cowan I began questioning my sexuality when I was 12 years old, and during this time, I felt as though I stood at the edge of a world that I was not prepared to enter. Desperate to find stories that could help me make sense of my identity, I eagerly consumed any LGBT+ media I could find. What I found time and time again were stories of pain and suffering, with gay and transgender characters living traumatic lives and their narratives leaving them unloved or dead. Where were our happy endings? These overproduced and insensitive storylines are known as tragedy, or trauma, porn, which is a phenomenon used in media that exploits the suffering of others for the entertainment of consumers,

according to Medium. It appears in a variety of dramatic narratives, and it especially impacts marginalized communities. The amount of LGBT+ characters in books, movies and TV shows is steadily increasing, but there is still not enough. When the majority of our representation in media is through stories of tragedy, it is easy to internalize intense suffering as an intrinsic part of our lived experience. Noticing this phenomenon over and over left me unsettled, so as time went on, I started to do my own research. I discovered that the tragic narratives of LGBT+ characters have deep roots in the history of the television and film industry. The Motion Picture Production Code, more commonly known as the Hays Code, was a set of industry censorship guidelines

that dictated what studios could and could not air from 1934 to 1968, according to Men’s Health. It forbade any positive portrayal of characters whose lifestyles could be defined as “sinful,” which directly reflected fear and hatred of gay, transgender and gendernonconforming people. As a result, the media rarely included explicitly LGBT+ characters. When they did appear, they were villainous or tragic figures, with narratives often ending in death or imprisonment. While the Hays code ultimately phased out, its influence continues to impact the portrayal of marginalized people in TV and film today. LGBT+ characters, especially lesbian or bisexual women, suffer death or trauma on-screen at extremely high rates, whether inflicted by others or themselves.


The Intersectionalist I have mourned the deaths of characters I loved and those from shows I didn't even watch — Lexa from “The 100,” Denise from “The Walking Dead” and Rose from “Jane The Virgin.” Every time it happens, it feels legitimately painful, like a little part of me is suffering too. If we are not killed, we are “inspirations,” bravely overcoming our own systemic oppression to achieve individual success, often through assimilation. This narrative is just as problematic —it creates a world in which the only way for us to survive is to work within existing unjust systems rather than fighting to dismantle the system itself. Non-LGBT+ people in every media industry want us to believe we’re only valuable when we fit the mold they’ve created for us. When I internalized this dominant

Graphic by Christine Park

narrative at a young age, I began to feel as though my life would be nothing but endless fear and sorrow, that the only value to my life would be my own suffering. This mindset damaged my selfperception, and it began to reflect in my creative work. My poems, stories and essays became stories of fear and trauma — especially those regarding my sexuality.

They say, “write what you know,” so I wrote about my darkest moments. After all, that was what the world deemed important about my identity. But, writing this narrative of

24. turmoil and rehashing my pain was exhausting. And worse, I found that my art was further harming my perception of my own identity. It was a vicious cycle, almost a form of self-harm. As I grew, I began to realize that I had more to give to the world. The longer I survived and thrived as a queer woman, the more that my perspective changed from one of sorrow to one of joy. The core issue within trauma porn is that it caters to the feelings of privileged audiences with marginalized communities as spectacle and collateral, and this bears real consequences. Whether intentionally or accidentally,


25.

The Intersectionalist

These narratives broadcast a clear message: a life under systemic oppression is a life of endless pain and tragedy. When oppressed people internalize this, it is painful. When privileged people internalize it, it is regressive and dangerous. It is a feedback loop of marginalization, and it is time for all of us, as creators and consumers, to examine our place within it. I exist neither as a tragic figure nor an inspiration upon which others can project their guilt and sympathy. Beyond the parameters of

identity, I am a complex person who deserves to see my true self, at the very least, in my own creations. My true self is joyful, and she is tired of feeling relegated to read and write about her own trauma, of being exploited and exploiting herself. But, I am left without a clear direction. It is much easier said than done to identify the line between realistic portrayals of suffering in a given community and exploitation of that suffering. Dramatization is a part of entertainment, and the line between narratively necessary conflict and exploitative tragedy porn will continue to be negotiated

far into the future. One starting point, though, is prioritizing stories told by and for the groups that they intend to represent. This means sending marginalized creators to the front, allowing us to craft our own narratives, ensuring that we are involved in every step of the process — that is how we begin to break this cycle. In the meantime, at least until I feel it is once again necessary, I am done writing my trauma. I have far too much joy to write instead.


26.

The Intersectionalist

I Am Not Your Fetish Graphic by Ricki Kalayci

By Damica Feliciano My ex complimented me on many things: when I wore a plaid skirt with tights or high socks, when I spoke Tagalog with my mother on the phone or when I experimented with different hairstyles and wore pigtails occasionally. I thought it was endearing until I remember him saying, “I’m really attracted to Asian girls — you’re like a cute, little anime girl.” Suddenly, all those compliments felt shallow. Instead of showing appreciation for my evolving style or acknowledging how important it was to chat with people I deeply love and care about, I was reduced to somebody’s “turn-on.” The comments my ex made

about me didn’t come out of love, but rather, a fetish. A fetish that objectified my ethnic identities. He even flip-flopped between fetishizing my Filipina identity and my Puerto Rican identity ­— depending on what seemed more appealing to him that day. Fetishes can be benign and promote healthy sexual expression when the person respects their partners and consistently prioritizes consent. However, fetishes can also be harmful and discriminatory when they are used to divorce a person from their body and treat them like an object. The normalization of fetishes that sexualize ethnic and racial identities serves to justify the racism, colorism, patriarchy and rape culture that marginalized communities have to contend with. The fetishization of ethnic and

racial identities stem from a long history of white supremacy and colonization. The fetishization of Black women throughout history originated from turning Black people’s bodies into exhibitions when European colonizers invaded different African countries. Terms like “yellow fever” come from a Westernized fascination with light skinned, East Asian women who were stereotyped in mainstream media as either the “dragon lady”— a seductress who became the demise of white men — or as the submissive, obedient “lotus blossom” whose sole purpose was to be a sexual servant. The sexualization of racial and ethnic identities have a long history that pervades generationally and


The Intersectionalist not just within romantic settings. Fetishization is ever-present and seeps into the relationships of marginalized people everywhere. However, I do wish I could say my unfortunate relationship with my ex was the first time where I was satiating someone’s gross desire. I experienced ethnic fetishes for the first time at a birthday party. Growing up, I always accompanied my mother to birthday parties with a tray filled with piping hot lumpia — traditional Filipino spring rolls — and my mother always received praise and questions about her secret recipe. It helped me feel more comfortable in my culture, especially growing up in predominantly white spaces of North Carolina. That was the case until an old-white-man infringed on the uplifting space, making me and my mother uncomfortable. It started out seemingly innocent; raving about the lumpia and asking questions about her upbringing. But then, he confessed his gross obsession with Filipina and Japanese women and how exotic our features are. And, to my horror, his wife was Filipina, and he had three young daughters. I was 14 years old, and I had just experienced a terrifying instance of fetishization for the first time. I often return to this memory whenever I’m swiping on Tinder and the person I match with asks me, “What are you?” I always know how this conversation will pan out: it’ll turn into the other person ticking off a list of stereotypical

ways my ethnic and cultural identity is desirable to them. Asian women are petite, feminine, and submissive. Latina women are sassy with boatloads of attitude and allure.

My matches on these dating apps are always casual with talking about my superficial attributes as if they are trophies to explore, to conquer, and to exploit. Microaggressions like these had a detrimental effect on my selfesteem as I became more hyperfocused on my ethnic identities. Slowly, I found myself scrutinizing over my body and features rather than embracing them. When fetishes are expressed nonconsensually, it can reveal the inherent harm behind the fetishes and the history behind them, according to Cosmopolitan. I believe there is value in exploring our desires and expressing them without feeling ashamed. When I entered the dating scene, I made an intention to prioritize my desires and express them unapologetically. Women, especially women of color, are often shamed for wanting, not just being wanted. But with pleasure comes consent, and there’s a big difference between having desires and weaponizing your desires at the expense of someone’s identity. Fetishes are normal to have, but when they reduce a person's identity to a sexual desire, it takes

27. away our agency to represent our whole individuality and causes oppression to be replicated in oneon-one relationships. This changes the dating landscape because it leads many to believe that their preferences are innocent and not prejudicial. Nothing about problematic fetishes should be considered endearing or “a preference.” My ethnic identity does not deserve to be informed by white men whose fetishization only applies to the idea of me, rather than my actual self. I don’t exist for your pleasure, and I am not your fetish.


The Intersectionalist

28.

How The Fashion Indust Plus-Size Discrimination By Sydney Taylor Everyone remembers the 2014 crop top and bandeau fashion trend. Celebrities showed up to the MET Gala displaying their midriffs, teenage girls sported the tops all summer and Pinterest couldn’t get enough of the “perfect” warm weather staple. But, crop tops were just another clothing trend that I couldn’t indulge in. I wasn’t able to find a crop top or bandeau in my size until 2019. It took clothing brands five years to cater to plus-size bodies — to remember that plus-size women want to wear cute, trendy clothes and embrace our bodies too. And, this is just only one example of how the fashion industry continuously upholds the idea that certain body types can pull off particular styles of clothing. I am a size 20 plus-size woman who struggles with self-confidence and self-image. However, I did not choose to feel this way.

surrounded by images of thinner white women, which is considered the beauty standard. When I went shopping with my friends in middle school, I frequently separated myself from them to find the clearance rack — which may not include items in my size — or to find the small, hidden aisle labeled “plus-size.” These establishments made it clear that my presence was not needed or wanted. And, whenever I tried to step outside my comfort zone of baggy T-shirts to wear something slimfitting, I felt like everyone was staring at me. And, to make it worse, my family continuously told me the way I was dressed wasn’t flattering. I felt ashamed and embarrassed whenever I tried to express myself through fashion — something all adolescents should have the opportunity to do without judgment.

All my life, I’ve noticed that stores rarely displayed plus-size My internalization of the plusmannequins in window displays size discrimination of the fashion nor any clothes above a size large. industry began at a young age. And this is not because they aren’t Growing up, I never saw any plus-size in stock; it’s because they often representation in magazines, billboard just aren’t produced, according to advertisements or television. I was Business of Business. Graphic by Christine Park

The little variety of plus-size clothing large department stores do have is lackluster and mediocre at best, leaving women to shop at plus-size or e-commerce websites for their needs. I used to shop for clothes exclusively at plus-size stores, not because I liked the offerings but because that was my only option. I didn’t want to endure the headache of looking tirelessly through racks in hopes of finding something that fit or was close to my size. In recent years, the body positivity movement propelled more brands into size inclusivity. However, there is still a large in-store separation between plus-size departments and sizes extra small through large. Many clothing brands such as Topshop and Urban Outfitters have tried to implement inclusive sizing but do not take into account what flatters a plus-size woman’s body. If brands put more effort into working with plus-size women when they produce and market our clothes, they would not perpetuate as much harm on plus-size women’s self-image. One example of a brand that has issues with plus-size inclusivity is Brandy Melville, which has been criticized for years for their “one-


The Intersectionalist

try Perpetuates n size-fits-most” clothing options that only tailors to a 25-inch waist, according to Popsugar. The irony is: the average waist size for United States teen girls is 32.6 inches, and the average waist size for U.S. women is 38.7 inches.

In response to the backlash, Brandy Melville began to release larger sizes in January 2021. However, all the sizes bigger than a medium were labeled as “oversized.” Such language gives off the impression that there is a normal size and that plus-size consumers don’t fit that standard. Many stores such as Zara and Free People also label their clothes in this way, which makes many plus-sized women believe they aren’t good enough to shop there. I’ve always tried to ignore the signs of fat stigma and convinced myself what I experienced growing up was normal. However, when I realized all my friends and classmates wore outfits from brands I couldn’t shop from, I couldn’t ignore these feelings any longer. The failure of brands to dismantle their plus-size discrimination and become inclusive had left me

feeling excluded and ashamed for so many years. These brands are actively harming the mental health of young girls and women on the margins of the beauty standard’s ideal body size. Additionally, this perpetual negative impact on plus-size women's self-image is a tactic to confine us to strict societal standards. Brands, such as Brandy Melville, have been designed to fat-shame women and contribute to plus-size displacement. Plus-size women should not feel like a burden when they walk into a mall. We have been told to be happy with the options presented

29. to us for far too long. But, what is needed are warm and welcoming environments that carry clothes for our bodies, alongside those tailored to thinner women and every body type in between. This is not to say that plus-size women are urging designers to simply add more fabric to their clothes — as we have seen time and time again, according to Refinery29. We want a variety of cute and trendy options. We want clothes that have been carefully designed to complement our figures, so we too can feel sexy and confident in what we wear. Ultimately, all we want is more choices. It is a simple request that we are included and accepted in the fashion industry. Stop selling us tent-sized shirts and put effort into understanding what our actual needs are.



Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.