Southpaw: The Narrative Issue

SOUTHPAW

the narrative issue

Rock Bridge High School 4303 S. Providence Road Columbia, Mo. 65203 Volume 11, Issue 3 April 2021

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outhpaw’s previous two issues sought to act as time capsules — relics of our time during an unprecedented pandemic. The Virtual Issue analyzed how shifting to a digital setting affects our community, and The Health and Science Issue focused on how COVID-19 changed public health policy for years to come.

The theme for this publication was quite ambiguous, and coming up with a title that encompasses the important aspects of each story while also maintaining true to our theme posed a significant challenge. Southpaw’s Narrative Issue is our most unique publication this year, as the stories aren’t connected through a central idea.

Instead, we chose what was most important to each of us.

Our staff worked deliberately to write stories that were personal, yet informative. Some of us wanted to tell stories that explain how narratives spread, while others chose to tell stories that provided an intimate perspective into our own lives.

Often we find ourselves trapped in the same 24-hour news cycle, locked into breaking news headlines or

“Some of us wanted to tell stories that explain how narratives spread, while others chose to tell stories that provided an intimate perspective into our own lives.” fearmongering cable television segments. The Narrative Issue aims to show how journalism can stretch beyond the restrictions of traditional news reporting and focus on stories about our parents or pen pals.

We hope this issue accomplishes what our staff wants, to give a platform for our own stories so you can enjoy reading them as much as we enjoyed writing them.

Best, SARAH DING, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

ISAAC YONTZ, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF AMIRA MCKEE, EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

THERASIA BRAUTIGAM, ADVISER

2 COVER PHOTO BY AMIRA MCKEE / LETTER FROM THE EDITOR BY ISAAC YONTZ / TABLE OF CONTENTS ART BY DEVIN HALL

CONTENTS

STAFF

Pandemic intensifies violence against East Asian Americans.

Sarah Ding, Amira McKee, Isaac Yontz

4 QANON DEBUNKED 6 AMERICAN DREAM: THE GAME OF LIFE 8 11 FROM THERE TO HERE 17 PEN PALS PRESERVE RELATIONSHIPS COVID-19 AND ASIAN HATE

Media networks exacerbate right-wing conspiracy theories.

American Dream definition evolves through generations.

Five immigrant families discuss their move to the United States.

Writer Anjali Noel Ramesh reviews how writing letters helped maintain connections with friends while separated.

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COLONIZATION OF SEX

European norms traveled alongside colonizers, suppressing Indigeneous culture and identity.

20 22 NOT TOO STABBY

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF DESIGN Sarah Ding

ART Lorelei Dohm, Devin Hall, Rachel Stevens

PHOTOGRAPHY Parker Boone, Sophia Eaton, Desmond Kisida, Ana Manzano

SECTION EDITORS COMMENTARY Nora Crutcher-McGowan FEATURE Shruti Gautam SPORTS Ana Manzano EDITORIAL Amira McKee NEWS Anjali Noel Ramesh A&E Isaac Yontz

‘80s MORAL PANICS PERVADE SOCIETY

WRITING

Misinformation leads to stranger panic, false satanic claims.

Nora Crutcher-McGowan, Sarah Ding, Shruti Gautam, Amira McKee, Anjali Noel Ramesh, Emma Stefanutti, Isaac Yontz

Southpaw artists reboot their true crime podcast.

BUSINESS William Yoo

ADVISER Therasia Brautigam

The Southpaw staff on THEIR FAVORITE HIDDEN HISTORY:

PARKER BOONE, PHOTOGRAPHER

“My favorite untold historical moment is the Battle of Blair Mountain. In 1921, West Virginian coal mining company owners dropped homemade bombs on protesting coal miners.”

DEVIN HALL, ART EDITOR

“I am really intrigued by what happened to Marilyn Monroe. I definitely believe there was some government involvement in her death.”

SHRUTI GAUTAM, EDITOR

“I like stories of people who lived during historical events. They have perspectives and small narratives that you don’t hear otherwise.”

Southpaw is a newsmagazine created by the Journalism Newspaper and Honors Seminar classes. Southpaw’s purpose is to go in-depth on a specific theme. This issue focuses on narrative, particularly stories our staff feels mainstream media underserves. Southpaw accepts letters to the editor from its readers regarding any possible issues of concern in the publication. If you have a letter to send, email it to contact@ bearingnews.org. Limit entries to 400 words. Southpaw reserves the right to reject material based on standards set by the staff. Advertising is $50 for a quarter page, $100 for a half page, $150 for a full page and $200 for a full back page.

STAFF PHOTOS BY SOPHIA EATON 3

Pandemic intensifies violence against East Asian Americans

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incent Chin was a Chinese American man in Detroit out celebrating his bachelor party with his friends on the eve of his wedding, in 1982. Two white autoworkers beat him to death with a baseball bat while shouting racial slurs.

The men each received a $3,000 fine and no prison time. Chin’s last words were “It’s not fair.”

Detroit, once known as an automotive manufacturing capital, was in decline, and many U.S. autoworkers blamed Japanese car manufacturers for upsetting their monopoly. Chin was Chinese, though, not Japanese, and lived in the U.S. most of his life, but his killers viewed him as representative of the sinister Orient and blamed him for their own unemployment.

“Chin has become iconic for experiencing in the fatal extreme what ordinary Asian Americans endure daily,” president of Queens College, City University of New York Frank H. Wu said. “As unique as any Asian American may wish to be, we face the same stereotypes and similar threats.”

Since the beginning of their immigration into the U.S., East Asian Americans have suffered from hate crimes and racism.

As seen from the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which explicitly prohibited Chinese laborers from entering the country, to the COVID-19-related racially motivated attack on Thai American man Vicha Ratanapadkdee this year, racism is an unfortunate constant in a society that claims to progress.

According to a recent Asian American Bar Association of New York (AABANY)

report, there were more than 2,500 reports of the rhetoric going around, the hatred that of anti-Asian hate incidents related to came to the forefront.”

COVID-19 between March and September These fears during times of political of 2020. Karen King, vice chair of AABA- strain have happened many times in U.S. NY’s Pro Bono and Community Service history, including Chin’s murder in Detroit Committee and co-executive editor of the and Japanese internment camps during paper, said the previous administration’s World War II. Fearing citizens of Japarhetoric surrounding COVID-19, such as nese descent would act as spies for the calling it the “China virus,” encouraged Japanese government, the U.S. imprisoned other politicians and media to join in on over 127,000 Japanese Americans for the blaming China for bringing it to the U.S. duration of the war. Fear and hate, rather King said than evidence, drove Presif o r m e r dent Franklin Roosevelt to President place them behind bars and When has the American police been Donald the two autoworkers to kill nice to Asian Americans? When does Trump used Vincent Chin. the media give us any light? ... For evthis as a poWhile there has been ery one story we tell, how many are litical game a movement to increase untold? That's really, really the frightwhich was recording and reporting ening part.” useful in his hate crimes, King said, - Jerry Won, internationthere hasn’t been the same al negotiuptick in prosecution and Founder of Just Like Media ations and consequences for perpeeconomic trators. Take the recent war with China, resulting, unfortunately, in Atlanta spa shootings, where a man murdamage and violence to Asian restaurants dered eight women at three spas, and six and small businesses. were of Asian descent. The Atlanta Police “We have a history in the U.S. of rac- Department has not yet classified the shootism and hatred kind of coming to the top of ing spree as a hate crime, although there is public interactions in times of uncertainty frustration within the Asian American comand fear, particularly when there's an eco- munity to label it as such. nomic downturn,” King said. “So I think “There's just a general frustration with some of these sentiments gained strength, the speed of justice and really whether unfortunately, as the pandemic set in and there is justice for a lot of these victims, as people saw big impacts on their liveli- even the ones that get a lot of press,” King hoods or income; when there was a lot of said. “[There’s frustration] about the prosfear, both on the health side as well as on ecutions of these cases and whether they're the economic side. That really fueled some b e i n g

4 STORY BY SARAH DING / ART BY DEVIN HALL

taken seriously; whether police officers know how to collect evidence about these types of hate crimes; whether or not they are describing them, even from the get go, as potential hate crimes and treating it as such in their investigation, and if the media is reporting on it to be … potential hate crimes.”

Racism and violence against Asian Americans is rooted in many different factors, Just Like Media founder Jerry Won said. Won’s company shares Asian American stories through podcasting and other media outlets.

“When has the American police been nice to Asian Americans? When does the media give us any light?” Won said. “Fears of retaliation, fears of being gaslit, fears of shame, and especially our senior citizens and our elders admitting to their kids that they were hurt ⁠— it's extremely complex … For every one story we tell, how many are untold? That's really, really the frightening part.”

Data is an important part of the storytelling process of racism against Asian Americans, Won said, but what’s not being told is equally important, as well. Smaller crimes that don’t get reported such as getting coughed or spit on, or microaggressions and name-calling, are part of the whole and untold story of racism in the U.S. Senior Jenny Yoo said she has lost track of the number of times she had to correct people when they said racist things like “You eat dogs, right?” and tried to imitate Chinese language by saying “Ni hao” when they first saw her. Additionally, Yoo said every time she walked into a public place during the first couple of months of the COVID-19 pandemic, people gave her weird looks which made her uncomfortable. People’s cultural ignorance, she said, has vilified the entire Asian community.

“I’ve also heard through the news and social media about Asians being suddenly and brutally attacked by strangers ⁠— to

think that it could also happen to my family and me at any point in time terrifies me,” Yoo said. “People are using [COVID-19] to justify their anti-Asian xenophobia.

Anti-Asian racism did not start overnight; Asian communities have always been experiencing discrimination and racist violence, and the pandemic has just fueled it.

I think this really has to be stopped now.”

There is no undo button for centuries of racism against Asian Americans. Government officials, legislation, news outlets, corporations and the entertainment industry have failed to understand and accurately portray their stories for generations. This history is not often a focus of school curriculum or classwork, so young Asian Americans have to work extra hard to not forget the past in order to understand the context of current events, King said. Education, from within the community and outside, creates room for change.

“Bad things happen, and acknowledging that and learning from it and trying to change it [to] prevent it in the future is really what it's all about,” King said.

“When people forget history or don't learn about things, that's when things repeat. [Our] country has so many different groups that have been victims of hate a n d

have very tragic histories, but also, brilliant moments, as well. So the celebration of all of that and the exchange of that history and culture and ideas is really, I think, the only way to kind of move forward.”

After education and awareness, however, needs to come meaningful and lasting improvement. Even after the COVID-19 pandemic dies down, racism against Asian Americans will still exist, although perhaps without the same caliber of media coverage.

Although companies and schools may make grandiose statements condemning racism, Won said, these promises often are unfulfilled and forgotten. And Asian Americans still continue to wake up in an unchanged world.

“We're all human beings. Regardless of what philosophy you subscribe to, that's the lowest common denominator that unites us all,” Won said. “And for me, if I have to convince you to value my life, and the people whose lives look like me, it's hard for me to reason with somebody who I have to do that for. [Why should] I have to logically explain to you why our lives matter and that we need protection? Because that's human life … It all starts with understanding where we all come from, and understanding what our roles are, and then sharing our stories and to make sure that people understand why we feel the way that we do.”

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QANON DEBUNKED Social media, conservative news networks exacerbate, popularize right-wing conspiracy theories and disinformation

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resident Gerald Ford was a stooge. At least, actor Chevy Chase’s portrayal of former U.S. president President Ford painted him as an unfit leader in American television show Saturday Night Live (SNL)’s first presidential debate episode which aired in 1976. Throughout the episode, Chase depicted an incumbent president with a needle sticking out of his left arm, representing his dubious claims about foreign policy with Poland.

Jimmy Carter, a peanut farmer and Washington outsider with only four years in politics represented a charismatic southerner with enough charm to rally a nation. President Carter later carried the election by 57 electoral votes, ending a decisive and polarizing election.

In 2018, Dr. Bill Horner sought to answer a unique, yet calculable question: was President Carter’s win in the 1976 election affected by SNL’s episode of presidential debate? Dr. Horner, professor of political science at the University of Missouri — Columbia, concluded yes, there was a discernible correlation between the episode airing and Carter’s win.

“A lot of people tuned in and watched [SNL] and it was a really close election,” Dr. Horner said. “Places where SNL did well in the

6 STORY BY ISAAC YONTZ / ART BY LORELEI DOHM

ratings were places where it was close; you could plausibly argue that their portrayal of Gerald Ford had an influence on enough people to make a difference in the outcome of the election.”

Dr. Horner’s publication, called “Saturday Night Live and the 1976 Presidential Election: A New Voice Enters Campaign Politics,” fundamentally represents the issues the U.S. federal government and mainstream media face today. As the line between red and blue becomes more distinct, entertainment media has become more polarized as well. A 2019 Pew Research Center report concluded political polarization between Americans reached an all-time high. What’s more significant than an increasingly polarized population is the impacts that follow; Dr. Horner said. When Americans polarize, they tend to only read into their own beliefs.

“You can point to cable news networks like MSNBC and Fox,” Dr. Horner said.

“They’re drawing the audiences that are already drinking the Kool-Aid. There are not a lot of liberals that tune into Fox News anymore.”

Fox News, like other conservative news networks, makes the “Kool-Aid” themselves.

Tucker Carlson Tonight, a show that runs on Fox News most nights of the week, gives a platform to debunked conspiracy theories like QAnon, which falsely concludes the 2020 presidential election was stolen and the Democratic party is a front for satanic pedophiles. QAnon is often associated with 4chan, an anonymous image board, where the conspiracy theory originated to deceive or “troll” people. Freshman James Castilow said he believes QAnon serves no purpose other than spreading false information, and chooses to stay away from its believers.

“I make sure to

distance myself and not at all associate with anyone who is right wing and believes in the very racist and anti-Semitic conspiracy theory which is QAnon,” Castilow said. “I have publicly denounced conspiracy theories like that, as it’s very disgusting that people can believe in such harmful things and just spread so much misinformation. QAnon is simply fear mongering at the expense of Jewish individuals.”

The Poynter Institute, which evaluates the legitimacy of political facts, has repeatedly debunked QAnon since 2018. Junior Gram Coalier, has believed in conspiracy theories other than QAnon, specifically a conspiracy involving Adolf Hitler surviving World War II. In the past, Coalier said after little research, it was easy to decipher false QAnon claims.

“At first I was somewhat skeptical, as one should be,” Coalier said. “But then recently I was going through some declassified FBI documents and saw that it’s a documented and investigated theory.”

When people exclusively read into literature that intensifies their own beliefs and legitimizes conspiracy theories which may be false, news networks can use it to their advantage. Dr. Horner said news companies and social media algorithms cater toward keeping readers on their websites, which, in return, increase advertising revenue and profits.

“YouTube works this way, particularly,” Dr. Horner said.

“When I go look up videos about stuff that I want to clip and use in a lecture, [YouTube] thinks I’m interested in that stuff.”

While news networks may purposefully promote false information to increase viewer count, social media algorithms indiscriminately cater media based on user interest. Dr. Horner said this phenomenon inadvertently institutionalizes people to believe in conspiracy theories.

“Somebody will watch a QAnon-inspired video, and they’re only watching because they heard about it. And they’re kind of curious about it, but then YouTube algorithm feeds you more of those videos and you watch them,” Dr. Horner said. “The more you watch them, the more you start to think, ‘well, what if that’s true,’ and you watch more, and you watch more and it becomes this sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.”

QAnon shows how easily conservative news companies can turn a blind eye to false information, or more importantly, how they value viewer engagement over providing accurate and honest information. Dr. Horner said the reason conservative media values spreading inaccurate information can be traced back to President Richard Nixon, who attacked the media for having a left-wing bias.

“Richard Nixon set lots of precedents for use of the media that both Democrats and Republicans have emulated over the years,” Dr. Horner said. “Nixon spent the entire 1960s saying that the media was out to get him and was full of lies and was sick news and all of that kind of stuff.”

Despite this, choosing a media network, conspiracy theory or even a politician to support comes down to human nature. Dr. Horner said even when someone is posed with an argument contrary to their own, they tend to believe in their debunked beliefs even more. “[Americans have] become so partisan in recent years, that we’re not only not influenced by when we’re presented factual data that is contrary to what we believe, we dig in even deeper.

And we say, ‘I don’t care what those facts say,’” Dr. Horner said.

“There’s interesting studies conducted in recent years that demonstrate that giving people counterfactual information just causes them to dig in deeper.”

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AMERICAN DREAM THE GAME OF

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he American Dream narrative has The original American Dream emphapowered the hopes and aspirations sized personal freedom, a strong work of Americans for generations. Pop ethic and the overcoming of obstacles as culture classics like “Leave it to measures of success. Dr. Deanna Sharpe, Beaver,” a ‘50s sitcom about the everyday a professor at the University of Missoulife of an upper-middle class family, helped ri—Columbia who teaches the course “Aspaint a picture of the perfect American life: sessing the American Dream,” said Adams a beautiful family, an expensive house and envisioned a change in direction from the the lack of want for anything. traditional caste-like social structure of EuThe norm of what the ideal life in Amer- ropean countries, where the circumstances ica looks like plays a major role in individ- someone was born into predetermined their ual financial decisions and large-scale gov- quality of life. ernment policies on housing and business.

“Adams was familiar with a social sysBut the American Dream is elusive and tem where who you were and what you hard to define, as the definition has evolved could achieve were defined by to whom over the decades and left each generation you were born. Once a peasant, always a with a different perception of what it means peasant,” Dr. Sharpe said. “Consequently, to “make it” in he was amazed by the U.S. a social structure The term that allowed one to American People desperately needed hope and be the best they can Dream dates there was honestly no way to go but up. be and move up in back to 1931, His comments may have inspired others social and economwhen James to keep on going in hope of better days ic class status. The Truslow Adahead.” core of the Amerams first used ican Dream is that - Dr. Deanna Sharpe, it in his book, by taking personal “The Epic of responsibility for Professor at the University of Missouri — America.” oneself and applyColumbia He described ing diligent effort, the American one can achieve Dream as the “dream of a land in which meaningful and significant goals that benelife should be better and richer and fuller fit oneself and those in one’s circle of care for everyone, with opportunity for each ac- and influence.” cording to ability or achievement.”

The American Dream’s original premise

8 STORY BY EMMA STEFANUTTI / ART BY DEVIN HALL

of freedom, perseverance and the “selfmade man” predates 1931. Before the U.S. was established, British settlers were immigrating to North America to escape the religious persecution they faced in Europe, and they built their new lives in search of the same ideals Adams wrote about. But Adams’ version of the American Dream promoted unity over competition and encouraged Americans to work together to improve life for the masses. In the context of the Great Depression and World War II, this shared dream brought comfort and hope to Americans, giving them a common goal they could all strive for, Dr. Sharpe said.

“Adams wrote his now famous description in the midst of the Great Depression — think [COVID-19] lockdown and shortages going on for five years versus a few months to get a small sense of what that was like,” Dr. Sharpe said. “People desperately needed hope, and there was honestly no way to go but up. His comments may have inspired others to keep on going in hope of better days ahead.”

As WWII came to an end, the country entered a period of optimism and economic prosperity. Government programs for veterans helped them earn a college education, find jobs and buy homes, leading to the creation of the modern-day middle class, RBHS history teacher Maranda Mustoe said.

“WWII veterans, particularly white vet-

erans, came home to programs to help them From 1947 to 1973, the U.S. GDP grew settle back into civilian life,” Mustoe said. 2% per year on average. After 1973, the “They used the G.I. Bill to get a college ed- economic growth slowed to 0.2% per year, ucation. They used federal grants and loans according to the Bureau of Economic Analfor veterans to purchase homes. And they ysis. moved out of crowded cities and into the By the end of the 20th century, the newly established suburbs.”

American Dream had become almost enCombined with the Industrial Revo- tirely conflated with homeownership. The lution of the 1950s, the meaning of the government incorporated the increase of American Dream started to shift away from home sales into public policy; in 2003, equality and community and more towards President George W. Bush signed the materialism. Rather than building a life for American Dream Downpayment Act, suboneself from humble beginnings, Ameri- sidizing home loans. The pressure to buy a cans began to measure success in terms of home and be viewed as successful would wealth — who lived in the nicest neighbor- eventually have unfortunate consequences, hood, who had the newest technology or especially as credit became more commonwho drove the most expensive car. place and Americans accrued more debt in During this time businesses also began search of the Dream. to frequently use Cheap credit the American and lax lending Dream term in standards fueled We all want to, if we have children, be advertisements a growing housable to hand something to them and say to make the puring bubble in the 'I've made something of myself in my cachasing of their early 2000s that reer.' It's not a house with a white picket products seem eventually colpatriotic, espelapsed and led to fence necessarily." cially within the the mortgage cri- Dr. Deanna Sharpe, real estate indussis of 2008-2009.

Professor at the University of Missouri — The try. As a result, recession Columbia that followed cost most Americans began to associmany Americans ate the term with their jobs, savings consumerism, which RBHS history teach- and homes. er Matthew Johnson said is a problematic In President Barack Obama’s inaugural definition. address in 2009, he spoke of the American “I think an issue with the definition Dream and young people’s loss of confiof the American Dream is that it is often dence in it. He suggested the Dream was put alongside money. In America, we see not entirely lost; it was people’s undermoney as success as opposed to family, standing of it that had to change. legacy [or] community,” Johnson said.

Although Generation X (those born be“That's why when we talk about someone tween 1965-1980) and millennials (those achieving the American Dream, we focus born between 1981-1996) have continued on a rags to riches story like Oprah instead to face economic challenges, there seems of looking at other, potentially more ful- to be a shift in younger generations’ perfilled, individuals. I think this leads to a ceptions of the American Dream, perhaps lot of people overworking themselves and in part due to the recessions they experispending money they don't have in order to enced in their youth. Millennials, for examlook flashy, which only hurts them, and the ple, are generally waiting longer to buy a overall economy, in the long run.” home and have incurred far less debt than The baby boomer generation (those baby boomers, excluding student debt, born between 1946-1964) grew up with according to the Federal Reserve Bank of this materialistic perception of the Ameri- New York’s Center for Microeconomic can Dream. They faced different econom- Data. ic conditions, however, than their parents.

Research from the last decade also sug-

gests Americans are moving away from wealth acquisition as a standard for success and are once again focusing on less materialistic factors, such as freedom and fulfilling one’s potential.

According to a 2014 survey conducted by the Center for a New American Dream, 78% of Americans said they considered personal freedom extremely important in their vision of the American Dream, while only 23% said they considered achieving affluence as very important. RBHS history teacher Austin Reed said while the paths to success are becoming increasingly diverse, the original premise of the American Dream should still be a common unifying goal.

“The heart of the American Dream is something that we can all buy into,” Reed said. “We all want a better life. We all want to, if we have children, be able to hand something to them and say, ‘I've made something of myself in my career.’ It's not a house in a white picket fence, necessarily.

Maybe it’s starting a barbecue restaurant, getting another [doctoral] degree, writing a book. We all can hang our hat on this idea that we can be better.”

Dr. Sharpe said she has also noticed an increased awareness among younger generations about disparities and injustices that have historically made it disproportionately more difficult for certain populations to achieve the American Dream. For many, the Dream now includes movement towards equity, wider opportunity and broader acceptance of difference, which brings the American Dream closer to where it was when Adams first defined it, Dr. Sharpe said.

“Adams challenged us to recognize the responsibility we have for creating our future. My recent students have responded to his challenge by saying that for them, it’s more about self-actualization than ‘stuff-acquisition,’” Dr. Sharpe said. “I wonder if my next group of students will have a wider lens for the Dream, not just a better for me Dream, but a better for ‘we’ Dream. Ironically, if they do, aren’t we sort of back where we started in defining the Dream — making decisions and taking actions today that we hope will yield a brighter tomorrow?”

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FROM THERE TO HERE

Five immigrant families discuss their move to the United States

ZHIJIAN YE & SHINGHUA DING

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hile I’ve lived in American suburbs my whole life, my parents grew up in rural parts of the Zhejiang province in China. My dad’s father was a government employee and worked in the next town over. I never got to know him, as he passed away when my dad was in middle school. Although their family never went hungry, they had to work constantly for basic needs. Eventually, my dad’s mother, my nai nai, started working in the village-owned community farm to make more money to support their five children.

My mom’s parents were elementary and middle school teachers, and they moved towns a few times when she was young when her father, my wai gong, became the principal of different schools. He taught math and art while his wife, my wai po, taught Chinese and music.

For middle and high school, my mom went to a larger school in a bigger town,

a lower-level city that’s now larger than Columbia, with teachers who came from different places. Some were sent from cities like Shanghai to teach in the rural area after China’s Cultural Revolution. She lived in a dorm with bunk beds with other girls and liked to sleep on the top bunk. For meals, each student had a tin container to put raw rice and water in; everyone carved their names into them since they looked the same, but sometimes they still got lost. The kitchen would steam the rice and the students later came back to it for lunch.

When kids go to college in China, they don’t have four years to build up GPAs or extracurriculars like in the U.S. Instead, they have one chance to take a series of subject tests called gao kao in a few days.

This was very important, as colleges selected students solely based on these scores at that time. My mom was a good student and did well in gao kao. “[My school] recommended me to go to three schools, and I [could] go to any of those three because they gave me priority,” she said. “I picked the one that’s farthest away from home because I wanted to go

to far places. I guess I didn’t get a lot of chances to go to other places. [I] just wanted to go farther, then I [could] explore.”

My mom ended up going to her top pick, Wuhan University, in 1987. Her first choice for a major was Epidemiology, but she didn’t get picked for it. She ended up studying Information Technology, though she didn’t know much about the major. I asked if she was disappointed she didn’t get her first choice.

“Not really. To be honest, a lot of kids didn’t know, because back then, we were not exposed to so many things like you guys,” she said. “Choices were much more limited back then, because [there was a] big population of students, and only so many colleges back then. There are definitely more choices nowadays in China.”

My dad also did well on gao kao; in fact, only three people in his

STORY BY SARAH DING / ART BY SARAH DING 11

grade were accepted by universities. He was second in his class and went to the Zhejiang University of Technology, a great achievement, he said, because enrollment rates at that time were very low. His classmates who didn’t get into college had to retake their tests the next year, or even a third or fourth year later. My dad was a little older than 16 years old when he arrived on campus in 1982.

His major was called Microbiology Engineering, which had to do with fermentation and making alcohol. Like my mom, my dad didn’t have much of a thought process when choosing his area of study.

“At that time,” he said, “you don’t care, because as long as you can go to college, that’s very good already, so no matter what kind of major, you just go.”

One key event in China’s history was the Cultural Revolution launched by Communist leader Mao Zedong in 1966, during which he shut down the nation’s schools.

Because of this, my dad’s three older sisters have stayed in the rural village while he and his brother, the two youngest siblings, went to college. “[My sisters were] just not very lucky at that time because they are older than us,” he said. “So when we got to middle school in 1976 ⁠— the Cultural Revolution [ended] in 1967 ⁠— they were already old and missed that opportunity, already. Otherwise, they maybe could also go to college.”

After college, some of my dad’s peers went to work at beer factories. He decided to instead earn his master’s degree and later became a professor at Zhejiang University, one of China’s most prestigious colleges. A mutual friend introduced him and my mom, who worked as a librarian there. They married a year later. I always wondered why they didn’t have any wedding photos when I was younger, but not many people had

big weddings in China back then. They went to dinner with friends and family, instead. My wai po gifted them rustic gold wedding bands, which have since been switched out for my mom’s thin, diamond encrusted ring, but I have the old bands tucked away in safekeeping.

My dad decided to pursue a PhD at University at Buffalo—SUNY in the United States in 1993. My mom stayed in China for six more months while she was waiting for her visa.

When she moved to the U.S., her visa still didn’t allow her to work officially, so she babysat to make some extra money. My dad’s stipend was very little ⁠— $800 per month. They shared a two-bedroom apartment with another couple. I asked my mom if it was strange making such a big move.

“No, it wasn’t weird, because that was considered a privilege, a very good thing; not a lot of people got to come,” she said.

“So, things have changed in the past 20 years, when it was back then. So, if someone’s going to America to attend school and find a job, that’s a really good thing, people would envy you.”

Then, my sister, Sam, was born in 1996.

With my dad already being a full-time student and my mom preparing to earn her MBA, also at the University of Buffalo, they decided my wai gong and wai po back in Hangzhou would have to take care of her until they graduated. My dad took her back to China when she was almost one year old.

They couldn’t visit Sam because their visa status meant they risked not being able to return to the U.S. They wrote letters to Sam and sent clothes.

My dad’s brother came to the U.S. on a business trip one time and showed them recordings of her. She came back to Buffalo about three years later.

“I think she was excited, coming back.

Wai gong [and] wai po came with her so she didn’t feel like she’s going to a new place all by herself,” my mom said. “But she did have this one issue, because she didn’t like riding in the car ... she [didn’t] like the smell. So I had to give her some perfume to hold under her nose every time.”

Sam mostly spoke Chinese, but my par-

12 ART BY SARAH DING / PHOTOS COURTESY OF SARAH DING

ents taught her English, along with other skills like going to the bathroom and reading to get her ready for daycare. They could also now receive food stamps and Medicaid for kids. Wai gong and wai po, who were retired, stayed with them for a year to help take care of Sam and transition her to the new environment.

My parents graduated around the same time and moved to Haddon Township, New Jersey, but they both worked in Philadelphia, about a 40-minute drive away. My dad did postdoctoral research in a lab at Jefferson University and then UPenn, and my mom did temporary work until she found a permanent job as a financial analyst at a law firm. They made more money at their new jobs, and in fact, they didn’t qualify for food stamps when I was born in 2002.

It’s weird to think about how different my parents’ upbringing was from my own.

I see my dad’s experiences I’ve never had to go through in his words and values, such as when he tells me to finish every last bite of my dinner even if I’m full, or how he pushes me to work hard at school to secure my future. I didn’t understand these things when I was younger and why it was important to know Chinese culture if we were living in America.

I still wonder if I had tried just a little harder to learn Chinese when I was younger if I would know the language better now, and be able to speak to my relatives better like my sister can. I have unresolved fears and sadness about my connection to my heritage and wondered if my parents shared these, but I see they accept me as I am.

“I think you probably know more about Chinese than you realize. Sometimes you probably feel too self conscious about speaking, that gets in your way. If you don’t worry about how you speak, how people would react, then you can probably speak better,” my mom said. “Next time we go to China, you can try to talk in Chinese more. You’ll be surprised how fast you improve. Because like when we went back in the past, after a week, you can actually speak pretty well. So, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

I’m still in my youth and have plenty of time to learn more Chinese, my parents said. I should put aside my fears and move forward. A good first step is to keep having conversations like these.

SHYAMALA RAMESH & NOEL RAMESH ALOYSIUS lthough I claim to be more knowledge-

A

able about Sri Lanka than my younger sister because I was born in Sri Lanka and she was born in the U.S., most of my so-called experience comes through the eyes of my parents. Fondly referring to our homeland as the pearl of the Indian ocean, both spent the majority of their lives across the globe, later moving to the U.S. in 2006, just two years after I was born.

My mom was born in Jaffna, a city off the northern coast of the island. She is a middle child, with one older sister and one younger brother, and grew up loving the seafood that came with living so close to the Indian ocean.

My dad was born in Negombo, a city off the southwestern coast, but moved to Jaffna months after he was born. Being the oldest of five kids, his childhood revolved around climbing palmyra trees and playing with his siblings.

Both of my parents spent most of their early life within their tight-knit ethnic communities, growing up with their parents, siblings, extended family and neighbors.

My dad attended preliminary schooling in Jaffna, and continued his education through a bachelor’s degree in civil engineering in 1993 at the University of Peradeniya. My mom also started school in Jaffna. Once she graduated from 12th grade, she attained a medical degree in Sri Lanka.

During my parents’ pursuit of higher education, their families met and organized an arranged marriage, leading to their engagement in 2002 and their marriage ceremony in 2003. My dad left Sri Lanka in 2005, one year after I was born, to study for his Master’s degree at the University of North Dakota. Rather than moving all at the same time, my mom and I moved to North Dakota in 2006 after my second birthday.

Although the language barrier seemed daunting, both my parents said they didn’t struggle with using and understanding English rather than Tamil, their mother tongue. They both used English in much of their higher education and primary and secondary school as well.

“In Sri Lanka, we grew up with our own ethnic group. We all spoke the same language, and had the same culture. Here, it was similar, so it felt like not that big of a difference besides the change in language,” my mom said. “But after you started going to school, we started seeing many people who didn’t share the same language with us, rather than the few we interacted with daily. Also, since we spoke [Tamil] at home, you were not able to pick up [English] that quickly.”

Once we picked up the language, adjusting to life in the U.S. also ran much smoother.

My mom went on to say living here taught her some lessons she was unsure she would have learned in Sri Lanka.

“Once, I met this woman, maybe around 70 years old. She came to tennis courts to play pickleball,” she said. “I was astonished because back home in Sri Lanka, after living to 60 or 65, we stop outdoor activities and we just sit at home and enjoy the rest of our life ... Since then, I always remembered that here, you don’t need to stop trying new things or put yourself down even as you’re getting older.”

Both my parents said they were grateful for the opportunities in the U.S. for our family. My dad said there was more accountability for a person’s actions, rather than reliance on family, but it came with the benefits of more freedom overall.

“It was very difficult to open a checking account as a graduate engineer at a certain bank in Sri Lanka,” he said. “Even with my income as a graduate engineer, the bank would ask, ‘why do you need a checking account, what kind of business do you do, why can’t you manage with a savings account.’ Here, in my first week, a bank manager would say, yes, I’ll give you a savings account, a checking account, but you need to make sure you learn how to manage your money.’”

In Sri Lanka, there are large ethnic inequalities. The majority of people there are from the Sinhalese ethnic group, while the Tamil community my parents grew up in are a portion of the minority. The Sinhalese held prejudices against the Tamil people, and did not provide fair or equal opportunities for them in terms of employment and general welfare. This led to a 26-year civil war beginning in 1983, where the youngest generation of Sri Lankan Tamils fought to attain equal rights, or a separation of state from the Sinhalese.

My dad was not an exception from these cultural inequalities.

“However hard you worked, it was difficult to climb up with promotions,” he said.

“In my first year in college when I went for my internship, my senior manager, who was Tamil, told me that after almost 25 years of commitment to his career, he was still just a deputy general manager. His juniors, who are from the majority, got all the promotions and were at the same status as him. At that moment I decided I would not become another person like him 25 years later, who was just upset and complained about his situation. So, here I am.”

Despite the hardships, my parents have never attempted to conceal their love for our home country. They both encourage my sister and me to embrace our cultural identities through language, family and food. My dad’s never-ending trove of stories about his childhood never fails to depict what my life would’ve been like if I grew up in Sri Lanka, but he also reminds me of the abundance of paths I can pursue in the U.S. “You’ve got to be creative. You have to work hard and be on top of things in order to be successful here,” he said. “But even though there are all sorts of issues here, too, if you work hard, I don’t think anybody can stop you from thriving.”

STORY BY ANJALI NOEL RAMESH / ART BY ANJALI NOEL RAMESH / PHOTOS COURTESY OF ANJALI NOEL RAMESH 13

MANISHA JAIN & SANDEEP GAUTAM

I

’m the daughter of two immigrants who navigated a system built against them to come to the U.S. Neither ever knew they wanted to leave their home country, but they always wanted to have the best life they could. My parents grew up in Delhi, India and went to Maulana Azad Medical College in the city. After marrying, they lived in a hostel while working. My mom was studying for the Indian Administrative Services (IAS) test, and my dad aimed to be a cardiologist. After about one year, they decided to move from their home country, “I moved to the U.S. because I didn’t think I had as many avenues of success in India and was frustrated by the practice environment,” my dad said. “I wanted to do cardiology, and I wasn’t sure if I would make enough money there.”

They mostly moved because of opportunities for my dad. My mother didn’t think the same as him — she was close to her family and didn’t want to leave. Still, she stuck with my dad.

“We had nothing to lose or to gain,” she said. “We thought about corruption and lack of support. But at that time, everyone was leaving. Either they were coming to the U.S. or the U.K.” For my parents, the biggest choice was deciding where to go.

“We were going to the U.K, because some of my friends were going and your visa wouldn’t be rejected there,” my dad said. “But then another friend, Krishnan, said people who did medicine went to the U.S. and people who did surgery went to the U.K.” They made their decision based on just that. My parents had gone through medical school and to them, the U.S. was the way to go.

“It’s all peer pressure,” my mom said. “We wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for [Krishnan].”

In order to come to the U.S., a medical graduate had to take the United States Medical Licensing Examination (USMLE). To take it, one had to go to Bangkok or Manilla, and my dad chose Bangkok.

“Your dad had just received some more money and our options were to either get

a car or have him take the USMLE,” my mom said. “A U.S. visa for us wasn’t a guarantee either, so it was a gamble.”

My dad ran out of money in Bangkok but still booked a flight back home to Delhi. After passing the test in 1999, my parents flew to Baltimore to my dad’s first U.S. job. Their apartment was in the middle of the city, on the 23rd floor of Charles Tower.

My mom stayed at home, since she hadn’t taken the USMLE and couldn’t practice as a doctor. My dad worked in his residency, taking long shifts.

“I would [go to the top] of the 30 floors, and think ‘oh god, where did I end up,’” my mom said. “And I would wait for your dad to come home after working for 24 hours.”

My dad said he remembers how lonely my mom was at home studying for the USMLE. My dad promised her if she took the test, he would save up money for her to go home in India. She did, and when she came back, she still missed home.

“When I was in India, I never even left the house for a night.

But, then I came here. And on the 23rd floor you can imagine how homesick I was,” my mom said. “I would call home so much. Phone calls were 55 cents per call, and our phone bill was $200. Our rent was $540. We used to get Blockbuster credit because of how much I spent on calls.”

They furnished the house with a mattress and a small black table with four chairs. My dad remembers he got a TV for my mom; it was $50 with a single antenna, and they would mess around with it only to get a bad signal. But my dad felt happier here in the U.S. It became apparent the move was the right choice for him.

“I liked what I was doing, and I felt that professionally I was more satisfied,” he said. “The biggest challenge was your mummy was home alone most of the time, and she missed India a lot.”

My parents moved out of that apartment after a short time, and they still remember the people who helped them out in the beginning. They moved to Baltimore because

my mom was in contact with a few people there, but it was the community around them that supported my parents, such as my dad’s co-resident who lent her car for his driving test.

My parents used to travel to meet people they knew, such as those who also went to their medical school. Mostly, driving was their escape.

“Every night, when [your mom and I] could, we would drive around for fun. The first time we went to New Jersey, we found an Indian channel on the radio. Your mom went crazy,” my dad said. “We didn’t have the GPS so we used to have a map open, and [your mom] would always give the wrong directions.”

My mom retorted she gave those directions on purpose. They would go to places that reminded them of their home — my parents watched Bollywood movies together, and my mom liked to go to Niagara Falls because they had Indian food. It was my parents’ way of trying to make the U.S more familiar.

“We used to watch movies on Chotti Diwali, [an Indian holiday], because new movies would come out in theaters then,” my mom said. “Once, everyone in [your dad’s] residency program watched it with us together. They cursed us out later because of how long it was.”

My parents laughed over these small moments, but my mom kept coming back to tell me they didn’t know how life was going to work out. She had a hard time putting how she felt at the time into words.

“You can’t really say anything about events that didn’t even happen or choices you never made,” my mom said. “There’s so much struggle, so you just don’t realize what’s happening in the first few years.”

Looking back, it may have seemed like a spontaneous decision, but it was rooted in a want for a better life. They both have built a second home here, yet their attachment to the world they grew up in will never cease.

My parents consider their life in India as the one that is truly theirs, seemingly separate from the struggles they had in the U.S. “Overall, we feel that emigration was a good decision for us. We have no regrets,” my dad said. “Regardless, we would prefer to move back to our home country after retirement.”

14 STORY BY SHRUTI GAUTAM / ART BY SHRUTI GAUTAM / PHOTO COURTESY OF SHRUTI GAUTAM

MARIANELLA NUNEZ

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’ve witnessed firsthand the conflicting, bittersweet emotions that come with leaving behind an old country and life, even if it’s in exchange for a better one. In 2000, my mother and father moved from their hometown in Caracas, Venezuela to Miami, Florida on a work visa. While my mom was grateful to leave Caracas in hopes of a safer place to live and start a family, she also struggled for years with homesickness, especially as Venezuela entered a humanitarian crisis.

I was born three years after my parents immigrated to the U.S, but as long as I can remember, Venezuelan culture was deeply ingrained into every aspect of my upbringing, perhaps more so than American culture. I grew up in a predominantly Venezuelan neighborhood of Miami, surrounded by children of Latin American immigrants like me. I spoke only Spanish for the first years of my life, and we took trips to Caracas every holiday. For every American tradition, we celebrated the Hispanic version instead; we waited for el niño Jesús instead of Santa Claus and el Ratón Pérez instead of the tooth fairy.

My mother tells me now her emphasis on keeping me connected to my heritage was, in some ways, a coping mechanism for her homesickness. By recreating the feeling of being in Venezuela as closely as possible for my brother and me, she was trying to bring a sense of her country back into our lives to make America feel more like home.

“Especially at the beginning, I was pushing to get that sense of home back,” my mom said. “I learned to cook meals that I never even liked when I was in Venezuela just to have the smell of those foods in my house again and have it feel more like home. I tried many things, like trying to keep visiting and keep my kids connecting with their grandparents. But later I realized that the idea of ‘home’ comes from within me, not in Venezuela or in a house smelling like particular food.”

Over the years, my mom developed a complicated relationship with Venezuela, as the worsening living conditions there turned Caracas into a painful memory for her. Because of corruption and misman-

agement under the current government, Venezuela spiraled into chaos. Food, medicine and other basic supplies have become nearly impossible to find, which increased death rates and spurred outbreaks of easily treatable diseases. Homicide rates in Caracas are now among the highest of any country in the world, and President Nicolás Maduro has descended into complete authoritarianism, censoring free press, staging illegitimate elections and imprisoning political opponents to stay in power.

For all these reasons, our visits to Venezuela became less frequent as I grew older. Whenever we did visit, we were coming back to a country we no longer recognized, as most of our family and friends fled the country and immigrated to wherever they could get a visa; some went to Spain, some to the U.S. and some even as far away as Korea. By 2010, we no longer visited Caracas anymore — we likely never will again.

“We ended up visiting a country that didn’t feel like home anymore. It was really weird, because the places were so familiar but nobody was there anymore,” my mom said. “It was a really uncertain feeling of not knowing where your country, your family is anymore. That affected my attachment to Venezuela in a negative way. It felt like a painful place with a lot of missing people. It was heartbreaking.”

My mom learned to derive the feeling of ‘home’ from other places. In 2015, my family moved from Miami to Palo Alto, California. The move greatly distanced us from the Venezuelan-American community I’d grown up in, and it was a major step out of our comfort zones.

But my mom made an effort to engage with this new community a s

much as possible. She started focusing on her career again after a long hiatus, taking a job at Stanford University she fell in love with. She reached out to other Latin American moms at my school and ended up meeting some of the best friends she’s ever had.

And since moving to Columbia last fall, my mom looks back on her time in Miami and Palo Alto as fondly as she would on her old life in Caracas.

“Just as I’ve learned to appreciate those memories that I chose to keep from Venezuela, I now choose to keep from my time in Miami and California, and hopefully from my time in Missouri,” she said. “It’s like I’ve been connecting memories and traditions and friends from all those places, and I keep them as close to my heart as Venezuela once was. So I feel ‘home’ has been moving and changing along with me.”

Despite all of the time we’ve spent away from Miami and Venezuela and the happiness my mom eventually found in the U.S, she never stopped speaking to us in Spanish, cooking us Venezuelan dishes and trying to keep us connected to our culture. But now, it’s no longer because she feels homesick. She does it because through these traditions, she formed a deeper connection with my brother and me, which is what’s most important to her.

“I’m Venezuelan; I couldn’t have raised a family any other kind of way,” she said.

“So no matter what, my family and kids are a reflection of my Venezuelan identity and they feel close to me because I was close to them. That could’ve happened anywhere in the world. And today, my kids are my home. That’s what home means to me.”

STORY BY EMMA STEFANUTTI / ART BY EMMA STEFANUTTI / PHOTOS COURTESY OF EMMA STEFANUTTI 15

TOURIA EL JOUAL

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ouria El Joual, my mom, grew up in Rabat, one of Morocco’s four imperial cities. As a descendent of Moulay Idrissi, a late king of Morocco, she spent the early years of her life living in the palace in Dar al-Makhzen. Her blood is royal, and you’d know it based on a first impression.

She can balance books atop her head while she runs in heels, and her diction demands the attention of everyone in the room.

She sounds intimidating, but my mom’s enthusiasm for life is infectious. She never fails to find joy, even in the most trivial parts of life. She hums while she does the dishes, speaks sweetly to house pets and savors every sip of her coffee. She laughs easily and smiles even more easily. Her hair glows a deep purple in the sun, and her feet are quick to find the rhythm of a song.

Hearing about my mother’s life growing up, I realized how strongly her personality is rooted in her community. Moroccans live by the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” — it seems everyone is deeply involved in each other’s lives, and the simple, polite conversation Americans engage in is something she’s never understood.

“No matter how hard life is, it’s still going to be a good life,” she said. “You develop a relationship with so many people, and for better or worse you always have a community of people behind you.”

When my grandfather collected his marriage certificate, the civil officer who knew of him proposed he change his last name from Ben mokhtar, “chosen,” to El Jaoual, “the traveler.” His children, my mom and her five siblings, wear this name today.

“I remember when I was very little, people would call me little Ahmed after my father; I looked just like him,” she said.

My mom recalls my grandfather’s beautiful deep complexion, high cheekbones and big bright eyes, but elaborates that his best quality was his curiosity — he was a man driven by wonder and the excitement of new experiences. Before starting a family, he rarely stayed in one spot for long.

He traveled to every corner of Morocco

and even fought in the resistance against the French. When he returned home from his galivants, the community would gather around him as he told his outlandish stories until the sun set.At the age of four, my mom lost her father to cancer.

“My mom was amazing, she raised six kids on her own. It was extremely hard for her, she was only in her thirties when she lost her husband,” she said. “She had many opportunities to remarry but she dedicated her life to her children. Her entire life was dedicated to taking care of us. I feel guilty sometimes.”

Across the street from her house was her elementary school. Since Morocco does not have the resources to provide public education to everyone, they only provide the best performing students with a completely free education through college.

At the end of each school year, students take a pass or fail exam that decides whether they move on with education.

If students fail the exam they have one more chance to repeat the grade.

If they fail again, no more school for them.

“It was common for us to work and work, only coming up for air when we noticed the sunrise creeping through the window,” she said. “But we always had fun. People there don’t get stressed out easily, they prefer to enjoy their journey.”

My mom passed the baccalaureate with flying colors and graduated top of her class. She was even featured in the local newspaper.

“My mom was so proud of me,” she said. “I was the first of my siblings to pass.”

She continued at Mohammed V University, where she earned a degree in plant

science.

“My neighborhood threw me a giant party, by the time I got home there were people spilling out from the courtyard and into the street,” she said. “I could barely get back in the house.”

She chose to keep studying in the U.S. on a scholarship. My mom recalls how intimidated she was by American education.

“I told myself, ‘how am I going to keep up with Americans?’ America has a great reputation in the world in terms of science.

Americans sent people to the moon!’” she said.

These thoughts consumed her during her first class, but she soon learned she had nothing to be worried about. Her classes became conversations with her professors; the work ethic and love for the little things she developed in Morocco became her saving grace. One thing my mom misses is the warmth of the community.

“I don’t think therapists in Morocco are doing well. There is always somebody in your family, extended family, neighbours or friends that is available to listen to your worries and problems and be genuinely interested and concerned about you,” she said. “In America, I like freedom. Nobody cares! But also nobody cares about you!

People live kind of alone. I find that sad.”

She moved on to earn her masters and doctorate in plant and soil sciences, and currently works as a university professor teaching her passion. “What I like about my job is what all academics like, freedom,” she said. After all, her name does mean “the traveler.”

16 STORY BY SOPHIA EATON / PHOTOS COURTESY OF SOPHIA EATON / PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY SOPHIA EATON

Penpals preserve long-distance friendships

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iving in an apartment complex reserved specifically for graduate students with families like mine provided me with a plethora of playground mates. It seemed I only needed to walk to the nearest apartment to find a friend. The experience also came with the unfortunate knowledge that as soon as the graduates completed their degrees, they, along with their families, would pack up and leave, moving to wherever their job called them. Some of my neighbors moved states, while others ended up moving to various countries.

After reading the book “Extra Credit” by Andrew Clements in my third grade English class, which showcased the benefits of letter-writing, I was inspired to keep in touch with my friends as they moved out of our complex, rather than completely cut ties with them. My earliest friend-turned-pen pal moved back to her homeland of China after living in the U.S for two years. We became friends quickly because we went to the same school, and through our mutual love for hide-and-seek.

Although we were friends

for only a short period of time, before returning to China our parents encouraged us to where she was born, lived long stay in touch. Our first plan enough in the U.S. to catalog was to chat via video call, but more differences between our it quickly fell through as both places of residence. We endinternet issues and the time ed up emailing rather than difference created a multitude writing letters, which allowed of scheduling conflicts. We us to send each other photos then resorted to sending letters frequently as well. She often and gifts when we were able, complained about the intensity in order to maintain some line of her tests at school and also of communication. Our letters emphasized the stark contrast usually consisted of information on school, family and any other It felt so easy to get wrapped up moments we deemed in my own troubles, but knowing necessary to share. there was a girl on the other side And of course, we of the planet who I could relate to couldn’t end our notes made them seem almost inconwithout endless promsequential, in a good way. ises to write.

In a way, these exchanges were small gifts during the otherwise monotonous life of a between our apartment comstudent. I lived vicariously munity and her home in China, through the eyes of a girl in a saying she missed the openness city continents away from my and approachability. Unsure of home in the U.S., and it seemed how to respond empathetically our problems were one and the to a lifestyle I hadn’t experisame—school and lack of en- enced, I instead answered her tertainment while we weren’t dozens of questions concerning doing work. my well-being and reacted to My second pen pal, who the photos she sent. moved across multiple states After I moved to various

new cities, I tried to keep in touch with my friends from previous towns via letters, and my preexisting penpals. Sometimes, the changes in our lives seemed almost unreal, like how friendly and laid-back neighborhood communities were where I lived, compared to the experiences my oversea penpals detailed. It felt so easy to get wrapped up in my own troubles, but knowing there was a girl on the other side of the planet who I could relate to made them seem almost inconsequential, in a good way. I felt I had less reason to complain, since I wasn’t unique in having friend drama or being overwhelmed with school work. In fact, I consider myself lucky these were the least of my problems in a country that provides as many liberties as the U.S. Nonetheless, it alleviated much of my stress to know the qualms of a teenager were universal; across cities, states or even countries. My time in that little apartment complex ended up being my first experience in learning about the rest of the world, even as I remained in my own house.

STORY BY ANJALI NOEL RAMESH / PHOTO BY PARKER BOONE 17

Colonization of sex European norms suppress Indigenous culture

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olonizers came to the Americas with ambition, bringing along other traits of their land. Through religion and guns, they forced their cultural norms onto the Indigineous peoples. Colonizers were met with groups of Indigineous peoples, who the Europeans labeled as a monolith of “savages,” and learned about unfamiliar practices. They projected their value system from back home, suppressing indigineous customs and then eradicating the groups’ traditions and mores. The effects of this oppression can still be seen today, as Indigineous people struggle to continue traditions condemned by Western Europe.

Aztec and Mayan civilizations, in pre-Colombian Mexico, would participate in a ceremony known as the “Flower Song,” where people celebrated the sexuality of the community’s of-age women.

The “Flower Song’’ denoted that girls had a power in their sexuality which had divine origins. This was a long-lasting tradition that was an integral part of the groups’ culture; that is, until the onset of colonizers.

According to Mexican-American author David Bowles’ book “Flower, Song, Dance: Aztec and Mayan Poetry,’’ such song and dance was a vast tradition, but now, fewer than 200 poems are left. This loss is associated with the Spanish conquistadors, whose conquering eradicated people and their culture. Forced conversion to Christianity led to the loss of centuries of indigineous practices, as Aztec and Mayan peoples lost not only lives but were also forced to practice a culture separate from their own.

Physical copies of their writings or drawings were destroyed, and oral history was lost. This spe-

cific instance of sexual colonization was because of the overall conquering of the land, and such generalized change from one culture to another happened in countless places. But, these accounts leave out the targeted manipulation of certain parts of Indigineous culture.

Indigineous sexualities predate the more modern LGBTQ categorization, with gender fluidity being common in many. According to Caroline Cottet and Manuela Lavinas Picq’s book “Sexuality and Translation in World Politics,” many Indigineous languages had words for genders other than just male and female. There was openness about sex and what constituted sex. As colonizers took over Indigineous land, such culture met opposition.

Cottet and Picq wrote about how colonial powers tried to control, repress and erase Indigenous sexualities. Their goal was to regulate experiences by using sexual codes that were associated with Western Christian values. This desire came from the seeming immorality of the Indigineous peoples’ behavior when regarding sex, as colonizers would have a hard time understanding and recognizing native sexualities.

M a n y colo-

18 STORY BY SHRUTI GAUTAM / PHOTO BY SOPHIA EATON

nial writings from the sixteenth century to the eighteenth century outlined non-binary sexualities. They specifically detailed there were genders the colonizers could not comprehend nor accept. It was unknown, and that was enough to respond to these differences in sexuality and gender norms with violence. Colonizers handed out lethal sentences for stepping outside of European gender norms of specific divisions between men and women, such as clothing and occupation.

Cottet and Picq cite examples of killings, such as in 1513 when Vasco Nunez de Balboa, a Spanish conquistador, massacred male homosexuals alongside the Chief and 40 others for dressing in a way that the Europeans considered was reserved for women. With strict religious doctrines in Western Europe, colonizers mirrored the restrictiveness in their actions in the Americas. They justified their actions, regardless of the atrocity, in the name of God and moral consciousness. Indigineous people were already endangered, but associ-

ating with another gender or being gender-fluid, practices never before condemned, became even more of a risk factor.

Author and activist Dr. Judy Grahn published an article on homosexuality in Native American tribes, where she mentioned that out of 99 Northern American Indigineous tribes who kept written records, 88 referenced homosexuality. The remaining 11 tribes denied any homosexuality to the anthropologists and other writers. Dr. Grahn noted that these specific denials came from East Coast tribes, which were located in the areas of heaviest and longest contact with white Christian culture. People in these areas were subject to harsh punishment if they admitted to homosexuality.

Indigineous groups would suppress the sexuality of people who did not fit European norms as a protection mechanism. Dr. Evelyn Blackwood, a professor of anthropology at Purdue University, wrote white disapproval of homosexuality likley caused people to disguise that part of their identity, rather than those tribes disapproving homosexuality as the numbers may initially suggest.

Colonization caused the effective erasure of identities because they didn’t meet the standards of the warped moral compass of European colonizers.

Culture and acceptance itself was colonized, and it caused lasting damage to

Indigenous communities and their social climates.

Camden Howell of the University of Wisconsin wrote a paper titled “The Impact of Colonization on the Role of the Nontraditional Native American Woman,” detailing that colonizers could not discern between the Indigineous sexual diversity.

Cross-gender and homosexual individuals were considered almost morally equivalent by the Europeans, as they challenged the “normal” role already assigned to them.

During North American colonization, Indigineous women and homosexuals lost power as the groups’ status in their culture opposed European American ideologies.

With continued exposure to the colonizers, Indigineous cultures absorbed some Western beliefs, and the patriarchal system replaced the groups’ gender equality, resulting in the present systems in Indigineous populations. Some Native American deities even underwent female to male sex reassignments as cultures accepted a power shift and embraced a more patriarchal structure. Colonizers also could not understand the differences in Indigineous cultures. Europeans did not even have the words in their language or languages to describe the different types of people.

These tribes’ traditions were suppressed by others’ value systems, but so much of their culture and world was also unable to be properly translated. Cottet and Picq wrote about the Zapotec people, a pre-Colombian group in Mesoamerica. In the Zapotec language, there was no difference

between man or woman.

“La-ave” referred to people; linguistically, there were no genders. For people who chose to behave in a manner of another sex, the Zapotec people denoted another gender, calling them muxes, and they were considered to be a blessing from a god.

But, when the Spanish conquistadors arrived, they forced structures of feminine and masculine genders. Muxes did not fit neatly into the boxes the colonizers provided, and the people were left out of the language and “lost in translation.” The damage on Indigineous communities is extensive, and it cannot be reversed. This form of colonization is often left out from academic literature because of the previous erasure of culture and continuous stigmatization of sex. But, practices can and should be brought back in an effort to preserve lost history.

The Ojibwe of the Hoopa Valley Tribe, located in land spanning modern day Quebec to Montana, has a Flower Dance ritual.

This ceremony celebrated young women who were coming-of-age. After the French colonizers came, this and many other practices became virtually nonexistent. But, the Ojibwe oral tales still persist, and now ancient rituals are being reintroduced to the tribal groups. They’re trying to bring back practices, as cultural reintegration not only prolongs the tribe’s legacy but also improves the wellbeing of Indigineous youth.

Even in places where sexual health and prominence were not shunned, patriarchal societies that condemned sexuality and related empowerment took over both the land and culture of Indigineous people.

The same colonization of discourse continues, as Indigineous people are surrounded by normative structures their ancestors did not follow. We, as students in a country marred with a history of oppression, must acknowledge the practice of sexual colonization, and tribal groups deserve to have their history retold, renewing and reliving lost tradition.

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‘80s MORAL PANICS

PERVADE SOCIETY

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he rise of the Christian Right in the late 1970s, combined with the Reagan Era of the ‘80s, grasped several aspects of American culture. Mortified parents longed for what they considered a socially palatable past, one filled with “clean music” and mothers “maintaining” the home.

Adults fell for conspiracies with the intention of keeping their children safe, and inadvertently twisted the blame to largely innocent groups. Rapid social change and upheaval frightened people into clinging to the narrative of the evil stranger, allowing them to neglect or fail to realize that much of the abuse at the hands of children comes from within the home. To this day, remnants of the panic-fraught ‘80s live on.

STRANGER DANGER

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hen children are little, adults begin telling them to avoid strangers, especially men and white vans, encouraging them to diffuse an encounter with a stranger — walk away or find a motherly figure. While I don’t remember my parents telling me these things because of their generally liberal and unrestrictive style of parenting, these mantras were ingrained in me and others from a young age, a result of the public school system or influence from media and friends.

The fear of the unholy stranger that originated in the 1980s came from, above all else, concerns over child sexual abuse (CSA).

A 2001 report from the U.S. Department of Justice cited an increase in reported CSA cases, as well as a rise in concern and awareness of the issue in the 1980s. From the years 1977 to 1992, reported cases increased, reaching an estimated peak of 149,800 s u b stantiated CSA cases in 1992. In the remaining years of the 1990s, cases decreased.

This data is the genesis of the crusade against strangers.

Separately, research on child abduction by strangers is limited and outdated, possibly because of its rarity. According to Reuters, national child abduction rates are statistically low; fewer than 350 people younger than 21 are abducted by strangers in the United States each year since 2010. This number is low because the subject, strangers, is not the issue statistically associated with child harm.

Most harm is inflicted by family members or friends of the family. In the ‘80s, adults may have recognized the severity of CSA, but used an entirely different,

20 STORY BY NORA CRUTCHER-MCGOWAN / ART BY RACHEL STEVENS

separate issue while raising awareness.

Child abduction data is even more so skewed when the issue of family abduction is examined. Kidnapping prevention focuses on the “stranger danger” aspect but statistics show most abduction is enacted by family members, especially in households with separated, estranged or divorced parents. According to T h e Journalist’s Resource, “parents were the perpetrators in more than 90 percent of kidnappings and abductions,” cited from a 2017 study by the Crimes against Children Research Center at the University of New Hampshire. And according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), “91 percent of child sexual abuse is perpetrated by someone the child or child’s family knows.”

This is concerning in itself, but even more so when this data can be falsely used to cite simply the number of kidnappings in correla-

tion to the subject’s famed villain, the “stranger.”

These uncomfortable conversations were often pushed into fearful narratives to derive from the even more fearful issue; family members are potentially more threatening to children than strangers.

SATANIC PANIC

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hile strangers were shoved into a frightful bubble of everything that is unfamiliar for adults and children alike, high on the list of potential murderers, kidnappers or predators were those who worshipped and adhered to the tenets of Satanism.

Metal rock bands like AC/DC and Black Sabbath were at the helm of American culture in the ‘80s, containing sometimes dark or sexually explicit messages. The game Dungeons and Dragons was popular among geeky teenagers, and generally, no matter the intended crowd, many of these forms of media utilized devilish or fantasy-like figures.

Creatively inspired, cultural icons explored lyrical freedom and horror and gore in filmmaking.

Strangely enough, parents believed this directly inspired Satanic worship and acts of violence.

The issue, once again, originated f r o m concerns over child s e x u a l abuse and bullying. Parents panicked during the McMartin Preschool trial of the ‘80s, which occurred after children attending McMartin Preschool in Manhattan Beach, California described stories with elements of sexual abuse and witchcraft performed by their teachers to their parents and police. The longest and most expensive trial in United States history resulted in no convictions and many of the claims of magic were later discredited or rebuked — one of

the children who was questioned later said as an adult he simply lied about things because of pressure from parents or investigators.

It did, however, make a lasting impact on child daycare facilities and parent distrust, especially where authority over children by other adult figures commences.The publication of “Michelle Remembers” in 1980 detailed t h e namesake Michelle’s journey with her psychiatrist in recovering memories of her forced participation in Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) as a child.

The book described Michelle’s experiences with the Church of Satan, claiming she was tortured, sexually assaulted and coerced into rituals. “Michelle Remembers” only further propelled theories that Satanism was influencing predatory and disturbing behavior everywhere.

The book, unsurprisingly, was later discredited, and continues to hold skepticism by the larger public, despite being used as evidence for the so-called prominence of SRA, especially in the ‘80s. Additionally, a 2015 study by the National Institutes of Health denies the theory that heavy metal and other extreme music forms spur listeners into anger and violent behavior, but rather are commonly used when the listener is already in a state of anger, and the music may even help the listener process emotions in a healthy manner. This makes perfect sense for teenagers, who cycle through emotions and phases and use outlets such as music to find comfort or lyrical understanding. It’s asinine to imply heavy music is the sole contributor for violence and literal Satan worshipping;

there’s almost always a bigger picture.

The Dungeons and Dragons argument, too, holds fallacy, and beliefs that a game can push the player into violence are similar to the more recent and untrue theory that video games cause violence and even mass shootings.

If it isn’t already clear, America hates loners. Since the ‘80s and even long before that, we decry underground activities and forms of expression because of their strangeness and odd influences. We lambaste things that become popular among youth because we’re scared of what it’ll do to children, and in the process we discredit the actual relief it may bring them. American conservatism once hated Elvis; the same goes for The Beatles and Nirvana — artists that conservative pundits are proud of listening to today. An interest in fantasy or satanic media in the ‘80s comes around today in representations of the decade, with series and movies such as “Stranger Things.”

It’s important to consider those who pose real danger to children do exist, especially in familiar places. Family members are also strangers to other kids, so it’s not inherently wrong to assume some strangers are dangerous, and CSA is extremely common and detrimental to children. What’s just as important, however, is how we carry this conversation, by letting go of skewed statistics and narratives of the past that blame any one group.

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22 ART BY LORELEI DOHM