One thing that I have learned from the CRT is that racism is
not always intentional or overt and in our day and age racism is most common in
the form of microagressions. This article is from a black woman’s perspective
on her time in Germany. Being a foreigner and a person of color she felt like
she was always in the spotlight, like people were always staring. Those around
her were usually very kind, polite however because people were not used to multicultural
experiences like engaging with a person of color they would stare. This
reaction of the people around her seemed unintentional and makes me think about
times when I might have unintentionally committed a microaggression that made
someone feel uncomfortable. It is important that we learn about cultures that
differ from our own so that we do not unintentionally offend those around us.
Classes like Intro to USCS opens our eyes to the subtle racism around us and
the unconscious racism within that we might have been blind to otherwise but it
is now our choice where we go from here.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Subtle Racism in Modern Film
So I was recently watching “X-men: First Class” in
preparation of the new x-men film when I realized something. Darwin, the only black
main character, is killed off after only a few minutes of screen time. This
made me think about other movies where often the token black character is quickly
eliminated or the first to die. I remember watching Transformers in theatres
with some friends a few years back and there was this robot named Jazz that
spoke in a very stereotypically vernacular and tone. After he first spoke
someone in the audience called out “oooh he gonna die first” and many laughed
while some chuckled uncomfortably but sure enough Jazz was the first and might
have been the only autobot to be ripped apart by Megatron. Needless to say I
was stunned at the time. I knew that it had been a common theme in the horror
movie world to kill of certain types of characters but until then I had not
really been looking for it in mainstream media. The man’s comment opened my
eyes to the subtle racism present modern film and now I see it everywhere. It
makes me wonder why this theme/trope is still so common today and why people
are ok with it?
You go there?
I grew up in the Inland Empire of Southern California. I went to San Bernardino High School, which is found in the South end of San Bernardino. When people would ask what high school I went to I would answer them with said statement and then I would get the ever famous reply "You go there?" in a condescending tone with eyebrows raised.
If one were to step foot on my high school campus, they would understand that particular question. The student population is two-thirds Latino and the other quarter is African American. I can count how many white students were in my graduating class on one hand. At least a quarter of my freshman class had been to juvenile hall or they were or have been under parole. There were constant fights during lunch time and passing period; and these weren't just fights between students, they were fights that dealt with race and gangs. It was very rare to see a Latino student with a Black student, there was no mistaking the tension between the two races.
Having lived in San Bernardino for some time, this was not unexpected. To even step foot in the south end of Highland Blvd. would label you crazy. When I would stay at night to attend a play or athletic game, my mom would distinctly tell me to stay within the campus gates. The only description my high school ever got was "ghetto." I remember during a water polo game, the team we were playing against was from a high school that resided from the upper class, white community of San Bernardino County. When they got off of their bus, they started looking around as if they were going to be shot at.
Out of the 800 freshman that came into high school along side me, only 400 graduated, which pegs the question "Where did the other 400 go?" Throughout high school I found that the teachers and the principals only got us ready to graduate, not to prepare for what was after. And there was this constant thought process that we won't make it. That there is no way we will ever succeed. The students believe this and most don't even think of a future that has college in it.
So when people would ask me "You go there?" I wouldn't let there tone or their surprise deter me or hurt the pride I felt for my school, because I know the realities of where I come from.
If one were to step foot on my high school campus, they would understand that particular question. The student population is two-thirds Latino and the other quarter is African American. I can count how many white students were in my graduating class on one hand. At least a quarter of my freshman class had been to juvenile hall or they were or have been under parole. There were constant fights during lunch time and passing period; and these weren't just fights between students, they were fights that dealt with race and gangs. It was very rare to see a Latino student with a Black student, there was no mistaking the tension between the two races.
Having lived in San Bernardino for some time, this was not unexpected. To even step foot in the south end of Highland Blvd. would label you crazy. When I would stay at night to attend a play or athletic game, my mom would distinctly tell me to stay within the campus gates. The only description my high school ever got was "ghetto." I remember during a water polo game, the team we were playing against was from a high school that resided from the upper class, white community of San Bernardino County. When they got off of their bus, they started looking around as if they were going to be shot at.
Out of the 800 freshman that came into high school along side me, only 400 graduated, which pegs the question "Where did the other 400 go?" Throughout high school I found that the teachers and the principals only got us ready to graduate, not to prepare for what was after. And there was this constant thought process that we won't make it. That there is no way we will ever succeed. The students believe this and most don't even think of a future that has college in it.
So when people would ask me "You go there?" I wouldn't let there tone or their surprise deter me or hurt the pride I felt for my school, because I know the realities of where I come from.
Being "White" in a Mexican Family
My mom is Chicana and my dad is White, making my sister and I biracial and lighter than the rest of our family. My sister and I were raised as being Mexican, always surrounded by my mom's side.It wasn't until I started high school that I realized that my sister and I look like we don't belong in our own family.
I'm taller than everyone in my family. Except for two uncles and my dad, I tower over every single one of my aunts, cousins, and my grandparents. When my sister and I walk with my mom in public people have to take a second look at us because it doesn't even look like we're her daughters. Where my mom is short, we are tall. Where she is brown, we are white. It hurts sometimes when I know that my cousins can pass for her daughters, instead of us.
In family photos, people can see a mass of "brown" people, then they see my sister and I and we get confused looks. One of my uncles used to call me "white girl" because, well, I looked white; he still calls me that until this day. I know he's just joking, but it still hurts knowing that my own uncle overlooks half of my genetic makeup. When my family talks about what it's like to be Mexican-American, those stories don't apply to me because I don't look Mexican. And if I act Mexican, I receive strange looks because I don't look the part.
It feels weird sometimes knowing that I look like I don't belong in my own family. There's even a rift between my closest cousins and I because I know they don't see me as equal to them; they think that I'm white and privileged. So, even within my own family I feel the judgement of not even being full white, but being half. I know they still love me, no matter what, but sometimes it becomes too much knowing that my own family puts me in one box, instead seeing all of the labels that create me.
I'm taller than everyone in my family. Except for two uncles and my dad, I tower over every single one of my aunts, cousins, and my grandparents. When my sister and I walk with my mom in public people have to take a second look at us because it doesn't even look like we're her daughters. Where my mom is short, we are tall. Where she is brown, we are white. It hurts sometimes when I know that my cousins can pass for her daughters, instead of us.
In family photos, people can see a mass of "brown" people, then they see my sister and I and we get confused looks. One of my uncles used to call me "white girl" because, well, I looked white; he still calls me that until this day. I know he's just joking, but it still hurts knowing that my own uncle overlooks half of my genetic makeup. When my family talks about what it's like to be Mexican-American, those stories don't apply to me because I don't look Mexican. And if I act Mexican, I receive strange looks because I don't look the part.
It feels weird sometimes knowing that I look like I don't belong in my own family. There's even a rift between my closest cousins and I because I know they don't see me as equal to them; they think that I'm white and privileged. So, even within my own family I feel the judgement of not even being full white, but being half. I know they still love me, no matter what, but sometimes it becomes too much knowing that my own family puts me in one box, instead seeing all of the labels that create me.
Red Robin: Not Just A Hamburger Joint
Last month one of my friends had her birthday, which is just 2 days before mine. So, to celebrate we took two of our mutual friends and went to Red Robin for dinner. Two of my friends are Hawaiian and the other is Hispanic, safe to say I am the lightest out of us four. When we were seated at a table, we waited for about five minutes, at which time another group of girls, who were all white, sat at the table next to us. A waitress then asked us if we, my friends and I and the other groups of girls, were together. We answered no and she looked at us and told her colleague, in front of us, that she would help the girls that were sitting next to us, even though we were there before them. My friends and I just looked at each other and one of them said "It's because we're brown."
Before this class I probably wouldn't have looked further into the situation, but as I looked around the restaurant I found that we were surrounded by people lighter than us. Coming from a city that is two-thirds Latino and the other quarter is African American, I haven't really been discriminated against, but coming to Spokane I quickly realized that there is a very different atmosphere when it comes to diversity.
Not only did the waitress disregard my group of friends and I, but throughout the night she kept looking at us, as if we didn't belong there or she was afraid of coming to close to us. Even when we were eventually helped, the waiter continuously looked at me for verification when he asked questions seeing that I was the lightest one at the table.
This was the first time I actually experienced, and felt, what it's like to be discriminated against or be the other group. After this incident, it got me thinking about my mom, who is Latina, and how she would be treated in a city like this.
Before this class I probably wouldn't have looked further into the situation, but as I looked around the restaurant I found that we were surrounded by people lighter than us. Coming from a city that is two-thirds Latino and the other quarter is African American, I haven't really been discriminated against, but coming to Spokane I quickly realized that there is a very different atmosphere when it comes to diversity.
Not only did the waitress disregard my group of friends and I, but throughout the night she kept looking at us, as if we didn't belong there or she was afraid of coming to close to us. Even when we were eventually helped, the waiter continuously looked at me for verification when he asked questions seeing that I was the lightest one at the table.
This was the first time I actually experienced, and felt, what it's like to be discriminated against or be the other group. After this incident, it got me thinking about my mom, who is Latina, and how she would be treated in a city like this.
Unfair Racial Profiling In Arizona Against Hispanics
http://www.washingtontimes.com/news/2013/nov/12/immigration-activists-begin-hunger-fast-to-demand-/?page=all
I found this article that brought back the subject of the immigration situation in Arizona. Ever since I first heard of this law, I was appalled. I just find it so unfair and discriminative how these police officers have the right to pull someone over if they even look Hispanic and ask for their papers because they suspect they are undocumented. This is such a violation of people's rights, as well as a total discrimination towards Hispanics. It is completely wrong of police to pull over anyone they suspect may be undocumented and ask them for their papers, and also take them to federal deportation authorities or just arrest them for something as simple as a burnt-out taillight or something as ridiculous and stupid as picking up a water bottle from a trash can. They literally pull them over for absolutely no reason. This is taking racial profiling to an extreme, and should not be allowed. Just because someone looks Hispanic does not mean they are undocumented. To me, it seems that Arizona is not just trying to get rid of undocumented immigrants, they are trying to get rid of the entire Hispanic population in general by pulling over and arresting these people for absolutely no reason, even though they show them proof that they are in this country legally. This really sickens me and feel a lot of disgust and anger towards the Arizona government that allowed this to happen and is executing this law. Another thing that really annoys me is that they don't call them "undocumented" immigrants, they call them "illegal" immigrants. Since when is a human illegal? To me, that term is dehumanizing and should not be used. "Undocumented immigrants" is a more appropriate term to use towards people in this situation. Overall, I just feel like this country needs to stop all the hate and racial profiling because it is really hurting people who do not deserve to be hurt.
I found this article that brought back the subject of the immigration situation in Arizona. Ever since I first heard of this law, I was appalled. I just find it so unfair and discriminative how these police officers have the right to pull someone over if they even look Hispanic and ask for their papers because they suspect they are undocumented. This is such a violation of people's rights, as well as a total discrimination towards Hispanics. It is completely wrong of police to pull over anyone they suspect may be undocumented and ask them for their papers, and also take them to federal deportation authorities or just arrest them for something as simple as a burnt-out taillight or something as ridiculous and stupid as picking up a water bottle from a trash can. They literally pull them over for absolutely no reason. This is taking racial profiling to an extreme, and should not be allowed. Just because someone looks Hispanic does not mean they are undocumented. To me, it seems that Arizona is not just trying to get rid of undocumented immigrants, they are trying to get rid of the entire Hispanic population in general by pulling over and arresting these people for absolutely no reason, even though they show them proof that they are in this country legally. This really sickens me and feel a lot of disgust and anger towards the Arizona government that allowed this to happen and is executing this law. Another thing that really annoys me is that they don't call them "undocumented" immigrants, they call them "illegal" immigrants. Since when is a human illegal? To me, that term is dehumanizing and should not be used. "Undocumented immigrants" is a more appropriate term to use towards people in this situation. Overall, I just feel like this country needs to stop all the hate and racial profiling because it is really hurting people who do not deserve to be hurt.
My Culture of One Experience
I really enjoyed doing the Culture of One activity. It was a great chance to get to know other people. Not only get to know the stuff on the surface, but get to know things about them that would not come up in a standard conversation, and you would never have guessed about that person. In my group, I got to know some very deep and touchy things that I am sure were not something that was easy to share, and I really appreciate them for sharing that with me. Although the information itself helped me learn a lot about them, I also think that having the listeners not interrupt the speaker in any way, not even by saying "uh-huh" to agree with the person, really helped me learn even more about the speaker. It was really weird at first because I really wanted to give feedback to the speaker to show that I was listening and that I understood, but had to restrain myself. I even wondered when it was my turn to speak, if they were actually listening to me. Restraining myself from saying something to the speaker helped me listen to them better because instead of trying to come up with things to say to them, all my attention was to what they were saying, which allowed me to grasp more than I would have if I made comments while they spoke. I think that that is one of the problems in communication in America. We always have the tendency to interrupt someone's conversation, not only so that they know we are listening to them, but also so that we could say that we relate to what they are saying. I have noticed that in a conversation, people always try to put their input on things and bring the topic of the conversation to themselves. People say things like, "I know what you mean," "yeah, me too," or "something like that happened to me too." It is always "me" or "I." This kind of shows that we are more interested in talking about ourselves, than actually listening to the person and trying to help them out. I know that that is just what we do in America and is the norm, but sometimes, we just literally have to shut up and listen. We should just put ourselves aside and actually listen to what the person has to say in order to fully understand and help them because that is why they came to you in the first place. I hope to always think of this experience whenever I have a conversation and try to remain silent until they are done speaking to improve my listening skills.
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