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The Current Race Discussion and That Caught-in-the-Middle Feeling
(I don't know if I want this posted publicly, because I'm still not sure if this sounds like whining. But I need to get this off my chest. Help?)
ETA: After being assured that, hey, you're allowed to have your own perspective, I'm going to unlock this. Here's to hoping I don't regret this. Also, fixing spelling errors.
I saw![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rydra_wong's link roundups of the current race discussion (here and here) and have been reading through them. Actually, let me be a little more honest: I first had to gather up my courage and then read them. Because I always get profoundly uncomfortable during race discussions.
And I was talking toabyssinia4077 last night about it and was finally able to articulate why I'm uncomfortable and confused. It's not that I want to make it "all about me" or my interactions and perspectives. Actually, it's, I'm sort of ashamed to say, the opposite:
It's never about me.
Because, you see, in these discussions about race and being Othered, I never see anything from the perspective of those of us who are painfully caught in the middle. Those of us who have a foot in two worlds on the race discussion. Those of us who get scrutinized in sandwich shops at the check-out line and asked "what are you?" Those of us who always have that little moment of grief and confusion whenever we fill out a form and are asked to check one box for "Race".
Yes, I'm talking about the mixed kids.
In the course of my life, I have been asked if I am Italian, Spanish, Latina, Hispanic, Turkish, and I'm probably missing some. My brother has been asked if he's related to Saddam Hussein. (Yes, I'm serious. I seriously hope the kid was joking, but I remember feeling like I'd been punched in the gut when my little brother told me this.) We don't fit into people's little boxes. We're not "brown" enough to be immediately put into one of those boxes, but at the same time, we're not "white" enough to be obviously white.
I was pathetically grateful and amazed when one of my professors this past term was the very first person to correctly identify what my cultural and ethnic background was, after I explained that my last name is Slovak. It was the first time in my life where I didn't have to awkwardly explain that I was a product of Imperialism at its best, and by god the sun really hasn't set on the British Empire.
Because that's what I am. My mother's family came from India to the British colony of Guyana as indentured servants. And in that melting pot of the British Empire's sugar cane fields, they began stripping away some of those cultural things in order to survive. And then, in the 1960s, there were race riots in the country and clinging to Indian culture was the equivalent of painting a target on your head. And when my mother went to college, she went to a school in Canada (all hail the British Commonwealth), where she was mocked by a professor because of her accent.
Meanwhile, on my dad's side, the Slovak language has died with my great-grandmother. I grew up with only scraps of that culture, all of which can almost be held within Christmas Eve dinner, and even that I see slowly slipping through my fingers. And it hurts.
And because it hurts, I can empathize so much with people when they talk about being Othered, about feeling the negative effects of white privilege. And at the same time, I feel horribly awkward and guilty, because that's half of me. Because I don't immediately draw stares or whatever when walking down the street. Because I can "pass" at a glance. I may not be carrying an invisible knapsack, but damned if I don't feel like I'm carrying at least a satchel. Because I feel that weight. Because I feel like a horrible liar and a fake when I let people assume. When I "pass". Whenever I have to decide to BE one or the other. Because it always feels like I have to choose which side I'm going to be on.
Because I'm the kid caught in the middle. I'm the person with a foot in two worlds and belonging to none, and a cultural orphan to boot. (And I can get on a soapbox about American cultural appropriation etc, and how American "culture" is sometimes a bad thing, but dammit, it's the only one I have.)
Whenshewhohashope wrote:
- There is no equivalence between the misrepresentation of Othered groups and the misreresentation of [insert white ethnicity]
No, really. It's about power imbalances and a dearth of decent representations. Think about five childhood heroes from novels that are the same race as you. I bet you can find more. Try to think about five that are South Asian. Arabic. Sub Saharan African? Call me back you're not drowning in decent representation of people who look like you.
I had a horrible moment of realization and it felt like a punch to the gut.
You see, I'm still trying to find one. Because there's never the story about the half-Slovak, half-Guyanese-Indian kid. Hell, let's be a little more broad: there's never the story about the half-Slavic, half-South Asian kid. Actually, I'm still trying to find the stories about the mixed kid in general. This is probably why I unconsciously clung to the half-Elven heroes in fantasy stories, because it was practically the closest I could get. Because at least there I got the cultural tug-of-war that IS being mixed.
And then there are those tiny little slaps that happen every time the rare mixed hero or heroine DOES grace the screen or print, and the comments come of how that character is "a cop-out". Mixed with white to be "more acceptable". How it isn't "really" a PoC. And how every single word just twists the dagger a little more.
Because I'm freaking invisible. Because I can't help but believe that some people would be a little more comfortable if people like me didn't exist. And I'm always afraid of these discussions on race to even speak up, because I'm afraid at best I'll get a pat on the head and at worst shoved aside and belittled because I "don't count".
And maybe they're right. Maybe they're not. I don't know. But it's been flying around, and I just needed to get this out because it's swirling in my head, and I DON'T NEED THIS on top of all these other identity issues I have right now.
ETA: After being assured that, hey, you're allowed to have your own perspective, I'm going to unlock this. Here's to hoping I don't regret this. Also, fixing spelling errors.
I saw
rydra_wong's link roundups of the current race discussion (here and here) and have been reading through them. Actually, let me be a little more honest: I first had to gather up my courage and then read them. Because I always get profoundly uncomfortable during race discussions.And I was talking to
abyssinia4077 last night about it and was finally able to articulate why I'm uncomfortable and confused. It's not that I want to make it "all about me" or my interactions and perspectives. Actually, it's, I'm sort of ashamed to say, the opposite:It's never about me.
Because, you see, in these discussions about race and being Othered, I never see anything from the perspective of those of us who are painfully caught in the middle. Those of us who have a foot in two worlds on the race discussion. Those of us who get scrutinized in sandwich shops at the check-out line and asked "what are you?" Those of us who always have that little moment of grief and confusion whenever we fill out a form and are asked to check one box for "Race".
Yes, I'm talking about the mixed kids.
In the course of my life, I have been asked if I am Italian, Spanish, Latina, Hispanic, Turkish, and I'm probably missing some. My brother has been asked if he's related to Saddam Hussein. (Yes, I'm serious. I seriously hope the kid was joking, but I remember feeling like I'd been punched in the gut when my little brother told me this.) We don't fit into people's little boxes. We're not "brown" enough to be immediately put into one of those boxes, but at the same time, we're not "white" enough to be obviously white.
I was pathetically grateful and amazed when one of my professors this past term was the very first person to correctly identify what my cultural and ethnic background was, after I explained that my last name is Slovak. It was the first time in my life where I didn't have to awkwardly explain that I was a product of Imperialism at its best, and by god the sun really hasn't set on the British Empire.
Because that's what I am. My mother's family came from India to the British colony of Guyana as indentured servants. And in that melting pot of the British Empire's sugar cane fields, they began stripping away some of those cultural things in order to survive. And then, in the 1960s, there were race riots in the country and clinging to Indian culture was the equivalent of painting a target on your head. And when my mother went to college, she went to a school in Canada (all hail the British Commonwealth), where she was mocked by a professor because of her accent.
Meanwhile, on my dad's side, the Slovak language has died with my great-grandmother. I grew up with only scraps of that culture, all of which can almost be held within Christmas Eve dinner, and even that I see slowly slipping through my fingers. And it hurts.
And because it hurts, I can empathize so much with people when they talk about being Othered, about feeling the negative effects of white privilege. And at the same time, I feel horribly awkward and guilty, because that's half of me. Because I don't immediately draw stares or whatever when walking down the street. Because I can "pass" at a glance. I may not be carrying an invisible knapsack, but damned if I don't feel like I'm carrying at least a satchel. Because I feel that weight. Because I feel like a horrible liar and a fake when I let people assume. When I "pass". Whenever I have to decide to BE one or the other. Because it always feels like I have to choose which side I'm going to be on.
Because I'm the kid caught in the middle. I'm the person with a foot in two worlds and belonging to none, and a cultural orphan to boot. (And I can get on a soapbox about American cultural appropriation etc, and how American "culture" is sometimes a bad thing, but dammit, it's the only one I have.)
When
shewhohashope wrote: - There is no equivalence between the misrepresentation of Othered groups and the misreresentation of [insert white ethnicity]
No, really. It's about power imbalances and a dearth of decent representations. Think about five childhood heroes from novels that are the same race as you. I bet you can find more. Try to think about five that are South Asian. Arabic. Sub Saharan African? Call me back you're not drowning in decent representation of people who look like you.
I had a horrible moment of realization and it felt like a punch to the gut.
You see, I'm still trying to find one. Because there's never the story about the half-Slovak, half-Guyanese-Indian kid. Hell, let's be a little more broad: there's never the story about the half-Slavic, half-South Asian kid. Actually, I'm still trying to find the stories about the mixed kid in general. This is probably why I unconsciously clung to the half-Elven heroes in fantasy stories, because it was practically the closest I could get. Because at least there I got the cultural tug-of-war that IS being mixed.
And then there are those tiny little slaps that happen every time the rare mixed hero or heroine DOES grace the screen or print, and the comments come of how that character is "a cop-out". Mixed with white to be "more acceptable". How it isn't "really" a PoC. And how every single word just twists the dagger a little more.
Because I'm freaking invisible. Because I can't help but believe that some people would be a little more comfortable if people like me didn't exist. And I'm always afraid of these discussions on race to even speak up, because I'm afraid at best I'll get a pat on the head and at worst shoved aside and belittled because I "don't count".
And maybe they're right. Maybe they're not. I don't know. But it's been flying around, and I just needed to get this out because it's swirling in my head, and I DON'T NEED THIS on top of all these other identity issues I have right now.
no subject
For example, I got stopped at the border with my father and my sister because they thought we were trafficking my sister, because she looks the lightest of us all.
Or being called "white boy" in a fight in middle school. Or having some banger scream, "What you claim?" while I'm walking down the street.
But what I find the hardest to explore is the fact that being multiethnic -often- means being between roles/steps in the hierarchy- you're not welcome at the step above, and you're a reminder of the ladder for the folks below.
For example, many people don't know how to deal with me because even though I'm half-white, I don't therefore aim to "marry up" and write a lot about anti-racism.
The assumptions based in power roles is the part you generally end up having to deal with again and again, and that's the part that's the most defining, and, receives the least process as a community.
no subject
And there really is no "one multiethnic experience" (what does that even mean?), because not only is it based on where we live or what situation we're in or other people's perceptions, but our very nature of being "multiethnic" means we're coming from different histories and paths.
And yet, despite this diversity, you're right in that there is sometimes that expectation that we're supposed step up and be that bridge between the two groups. Which is quite a thing to actually ask some one to do. Especially when we're not quite sure "how".
(I'm not sure how much sense this all makes. It's late, so I make no guarantees about coherency.)
no subject
Well, part of it is that it's not asking, it's expecting. And how outrageous to just run up and assign the responsibility to someone based on race, you know?
There's this interesting point that Chuck D made back in the 80s when several media folks were looking to him to be a political leader, and he pointed out, "I'm a 24 year old musician. You need to talk to actual political leaders..." which wasn't a "I'm not a role model" dodge, but a realistic assessment both of his role and the way the media (and white culture in general) likes to assign a few people the role of spokesperson regardless of whether it makes sense to or not.
For my experience (yours might differ), I've only found white people demanding me to be a spokesperson, or to educate them, on a whim. There's a level of assumed privilege to demand that someone, effectively become the magical wise Negro/Indian/Asian/Yoda and answer their race related questions on a dime.
no subject
My god, that's unthinkable! I should be ashamed of myself for even thinking people could do that!
... maybe I should lay off the sarcasm. Nah.
And that is an interesting point, and you're right that it does illuminate the way the media likes to assign spokespeople, regardless of logic. I could be cynical and say that it's just an example of how people would much rather have someone else to do all the hard thinking and work for them. But, okay, yes, I am going to be cynical and say that.
(And your experience is similar to mine, that it only seems to happen that I am cast as Teh Wise Sage On Race Issues For The Unenlightened White Masses on a whim. It usually leaves me going "um, what?" On the upside, I haven't had that happen in a few years. I count my blessings.)
no subject
For example, having the political statements of musicians and sports stars put forth as if it were equivalent to politicians and community leaders is deeply problematic - to flip it, would we look at Britney Spears as "the voice" of white America and the person we would talk to about how to help the white youth?
It's about choosing spokespeople in a way that further undermines the greater issues as a means of propaganda- when the best the media will present is Flavor Flav, etc. what picture is painted of the whole?
And along with that, then there's the personal interaction where, because these folks haven't done the minimal work of actually getting to know POC as people, suddenly you're seen as a font of magical history they didn't know about, and suddenly it's your responsibility to educate them.
Except it isn't.
no subject
Also, because the media is bad at picking out spokespeople who don't undermine the issues.
So, yes. I'm sitting here and nodding a lot at you.