Traveling with Revel

Hello readers! I was doing a little bit of thinking today about some of my favorite things to do--doing anti-oppression work and learning all about other cultures. That got me thinking about some of my favorite places to visit, ethnic enclaves in major metropolitan areas. I realized, then, that as a white anti-racist ally, I always try to be respectful and not obnoxious when I visit these places. Don't you hate seeing the person who is gawking at everything and acting like the community is a museum and not a place where real, living people actually live and work? I can't stand it either!

So I figured that I could create a how-to guide for visiting these wonderful places in a respectful and informed manner. Is this guide complete? Absolutely not, as I'm sure that others will have something to offer based on their own living experiences. Besides, at the end of the day, I do not live in such a community and would love to hear about the experiences of those who do. But for now, this is an ally's guide to visiting an ethnic enclave. The examples I'm using are in Chicago, but the guide can be transferred to other areas.

1. Do your homework. This is a big one. It would behoove you to learn about the population of the neighborhood you're visiting, what their history is and how they made their mark on their area. This will inform you as to why it looks the way it does and how its population has changed over time. For example, Pilsen on the west side of Chicago has a huge Latino/a population now. However, it was originally a haven for Eastern Europeans when it was first settled. Take a little time and learn before you go.

2. Don't stare. Or make judgmental comments. Show some respect. You are not visiting a theme park. People live and work in these areas, and they are just trying to live their lives just like you are. They don't need to hear the clueless visitor asking why everything is "so weird" in earshot of them or staring at them in a way that makes them uncomfortable. They are not there to cater to you. How would you feel if someone came into your area and started criticizing everything?

3. Get your learnin' on! Take advantage of the museums or libraries there. You never know what you might learn about the community. Ask the docents questions: that's what they're there for, and they'll probably be happy to talk. (The Chinese-American Museum of Chicago in Armour Square has some super-cool docents, and they're always around.)

4. Think before you speak. Consider how what you're saying might come across. Being along Argyle Street in Chicago and calling it "New Chinatown" is not only offensive, but it's totally incorrect. (Argyle has a large Vietnamese-American population.) And another thing, if the area is not home to a population who spoke English in their home country, do not talk slowly and loudly to those you meet these. I am sure that most of them understand what you are saying and do not need to be talked down to. The folks at the Puerto Rican Day parade understand what you're saying. No need to treat them like they don't.

5. Ask questions. If you don't know what a sign says, just ask. Chances are, someone will tell you and not be snotty about it. I may be 3/8 Greek, but I speak English and Spanish. I do not speak Greek and cannot read the words. So I'm always grateful for the nice folks in Greektown who can tell me what the signs and displays at stores say. Ask nicely and you shall hear. And feel free to ask what's in a dish at a restaurant if you don't know. The servers will be happy to tell you.

6. Watch your language. Make sure your language reflects how that community identifies. Saying the word "Oriental" in a predominantly Asian area is not going to endear you to the locals. I mean it. That term is so outdated. Or if you are in a primarily Latino area, do not start talking about "illegal aliens." You will sound so rude and racist, and no one needs that.

7. I'm going to shout out to Donna Haraway here. Situate your knowledge. Going back to #1, learn the context of what you're seeing and apply that to your actions in the ethnic enclave. I get that you might not have seen anything like the ornate architecture along Chinatown's Wentworth Avenue anywhere else in Chicago. However, you might want to recall the context of it and remember that those dragons and tilework were a huge assertion by the Chinese American community's right to belong when they first settled the area. Internalize that understanding.

8. Be adventurous. Feel free to pick up something fun in one of the shops. (I am seriously craving a trip to Devon Avenue soon.) Try to avoid chains, though, and make your shopping local. Your purchase will go to those who live and work in that community, not some soulless corporation.

This is only a partial list, coming from an ally. However, this should help make your cultural travels more respectful and will help you get the most out of your experience. And now it has made me want to visit all of those places I mentioned! Who's coming with me?

Raging revel

So now I'm about to get serious and historical on you all. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I got really upset the other day as a history buff and activist ally can. I was driving through the residential area of Waukegan, one of the larger towns in the county when I saw this house with a huge Confederate flag flying in front of it. And by huge, I mean you couldn't drive near the neighborhood without seeing that thing.

This really irked me for a lot of reasons. I really don't like what that CSA flag stands for, and I can easily say that I hate seeing it flown. Or on bumper stickers. Or pretty much anywhere you find the stars and bars. Honestly, I really don't know what some people's preoccupation with the antebellum South really is all about. Some say it's all about their "heritage," but the CSA only lasted 4 years. The United States as a country has been around for over 50 times that long! So, 4 years is not exactly much in the way of heritage. I don't see many 13-star American flags flying, nor many flags with 48 stars. So why this one? And when you really think about it, that period was among the ugliest in American history. Considering that a huge proportion of the population was considered chattel and oppressed, I really fail to see why anybody would want to put up a flag honoring that. You don't see countries that had ethnic cleansing or genocide or something else horrible in their past having some sort of nostalgia or wistfulness for that.

As an anti-racist white ally (and yes, I know that there are some problems with allies and progressives as well, as I detailed a couple posts ago), that flag really leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Why the glorification of this period, that was dependent on racism and slavery? Why the glorification of a region that seceded so it could own other human beings? That's just disgusting! But what especially irked me was where its owner chose to fly it. The city of Waukegan's at least 70% non-white (primarily black and Latino/a), so I really don't want to know what kind of a message its owner was trying to send. With that sort of a loaded history behind the flag (and with anyone's knowledge of Waukegan's demographics!), it definitely comes across as anything but innocuous. It comes across as pretty damn hostile if you ask me.

I would never trespass on private property and I am not into vandalism; however, I can't say I didn't feel tempted to spray paint the words, "Your side lost! Get over it by now!" all over their lawn in response to that damn flag.

It's still not okay

I've really come to notice a fairly common trend in some of the arguments/disagreements I've been having with some of my progressively-minded acquaintances. So I think I am going to settle this once and for all by putting my view online where everybody can see it and so there is no confusion.

I love my fellow progressives. Really and truly, I do. I really appreciate the work and effort they take to make this world a nicer and better place. THAT SAID, this does not mean I am going to be fine if they make a comment or statement that is somehow intolerant or perpetuating prejudice. I'm talking about the liberal-minded person who makes a racial remark and defends it by saying, "I can't be racist! I voted for Obama, didn't I?" I'm talking about the so-called ally who makes some sort of sexist or heterosexist joke and then defends him or herself by bringing up the litany of things s/he does to empower the community that was just dissed.

Let me make this clear, once and for all, I do not care who you are when you make intolerant statements.

IT'S STILL NOT OKAY.

If something sounds bigoted or intolerant, it does not matter who is saying that. It is STILL wrong and it STILL perpetuates the inequality. You do not get a pass because you are somehow liberal or progressive. A true progressive or egalitarian does not participate in behavior that makes this world a meaner place. And you do not get a pass because you voted for a certain candidate or may have done certain activities in the past. It is "everyday" words and actions that perpetuate and promote inequality because they create an atmosphere where that is considered "normal." A person doesn't have to be a card carrying member of a hate group to contribute to this toxic atmosphere, but we all have a part to play in dismantling it. The first step is watching our language and our actions.

So I will continue calling out that behavior and words. No matter who's saying that, it's still not right. And I expect that if I engage in it, I would like to be told about it so I know not to anymore.

Friends are NOT accessories!!

Readers, I am going to draw your attention to a phrase I've been hearing quite often that is really starting to sound just like nails on a chalkboard. Have you ever heard someone make an unbelievably bigoted remark about [insert minority group of any sort here]? Sure, you have. Bigots are unfortunately everywhere. Then, when you call the bigot on the inappropriateness of that comment, his or her first response is pretty much universal:

I didn't mean it that way! I have lots of [insert minority group of any sort here] friends!

Honestly, it's just ridiculous! I have heard it so much that I have begun to take the first words someone says about their Black or Hispanic or female or LGBT or Asian (or any other group they were previously disparaging) "friends" as a warning sign that they might be a bigot. Because no one who is truly open-minded or an ally would say that. You know why? Because they wouldn't make disparaging comments in the first place, and they would have those friends around them in the first place. Those folks who talk about their little rainbow coalition of buddies? I highly doubt they even have one minority they consider a friend. If their attitude is so prejudiced, I don't think that (a) any member of that group could stand them and (b) they would want any member of that group around them. I just don't believe they do.

Friends are NOT accessories. They are NOT there for you to put on display of "proof" of how awesome and open-minded and tolerant you supposedly are, when your actions are say the exact opposite. Actions speak louder than words. They are NOT for you to show off because it's supposedly going to make you look good. Treating someone as an accessory, as something that's not even human, is just as bad as being outright against them for their identity. In both cases, you've denied their humanity and made them into what you assume them to be.

I have a lot of different kinds of friends. Many don't look, talk, or act anything like me. And I like that. But you know one of the many reasons why we are close? Because we don't treat each other like accessories! We don't act like those friendships are simply there to make us look good, and we know that a relationship is a give and take. I'm not saying that race or gender or orientation or religion is something I don't notice. I do notice aspects of someone's identity. In fact, I do think identity matters in my friendships in the sense that anyone who mistreats my friends because of their identity WILL be faced with my wrath! We treat each other like the awesome folks we are.

Revelling is good for you

Well well well...

Who would have thought I could use most of what I wrote in my post "Searching for Sisterhood" in one of my classes? I totally got down to the heart of both writers' arguments, and even my professor referred to something as a "classic Morgan-versus-Moraga debate." (Although I'm not sure if Cherrie and Robin ever actually debated anything verbally.) He was talking about Sisterhood is Powerful, and about how it was a perfect example of a patriarchy-conscious second wave text, and I raised my hand to stack it up against This Bridge Called My Back.

So there. She's A Revel is a perfect conversation-and discussion-stimulant.

And come to think of it, I actually prefer This Bridge to Sisterhood. It took me a while to figure out which one I liked better, but I like learning about how to fight both racism and sexism from a lady who's "been there, done that." And I am totally all about forming alliances.

Searching for Sisterhood

Or, "How I Learned to Find the Power in Sisterhood and Cross This Bridge"

Here is some lovely feminist theory analysis courtesy of me!

Over break, I was reading two classics of feminist anthology. They are both wonderful books, and total must-reads for anyone who is interested in the great tradition of American activism and feminism. I would highly recommend them to anyone. One is Sisterhood is Powerful, and it is compiled by Robin Morgan. The other is This Bridge Called my Back, and its editor is Cherie Moraga. I liked them both, but I've noticed that they both have their own very distinct methods of promoting women's equality. My question is, which way is best? Or does an activist need to strike some sort of balance? (And yes, I am ultra-analyzing, but bear with me here.) Let me elaborate, as both do have their own backgrounds and quirks.

Sisterhood was published in the 1970s as "an anthology of writings from the women's liberation movement." It's considered one of the classics of that time, and it contains writings from both well-known and more obscure authors regarding what its editor, Robin Morgan, sees as the "women's experience." Morgan is the author of two other Sisterhood books, and they take their names from substituting "global" and "forever" for "powerful." My blog post "Sisterhood and Brotherhood Are Powerful, Global, and Forever" is actually based on the titles of the three Morgan books. She's also written about terrorism (Demon Lover) and politics (Anatomy of Freedom) and bills herself as a radical feminist.

What Morgan promotes is a focus on the "women's experience." She notices the way that history has often been written from the point of view of men, and she seeks to compile writings by and about women in order to pay attention to a much-overlooked "female experience." By pointing out what women have gone through, she hopes to foster a sense of solidarity and to prevent female voices from getting lost in the writing of history. Morgan is devoted to fostering a sense of "sisterhood."

The other book, This Bridge, is considered the seminal text that ushered in the third wave of feminism, and it's billed as "writings by radical women of color." The third wave is marked, among other things, by an expansion of feminism's outreach and an attention to the interlocking problems that women have faced (i.e. they also focus on racism, classism, faithism, and homophobia as well as sexism). Moraga, its editor, is adament about blurring the boundaries between groups and striking up alliances between social justice groups. She has written that one cannot be focused on ending sexism if one is not also willing to take on the problems of racism and homophobia, among others as well. Sure, she implies, sisterhood may be powerful, but forming alliances and expanding that definition of sisterhood is even more so.

Now these two views, promoting a "women's experience"/sisterhood and fostering alliances and expanding outreach, are equally valid and have their share of problems.

Morgan sees solidarity as based on a shared experience, a sisterhood, something women can all claim as their own. By having an experience that women can relate to, feminism becomes an "everywoman" sort of movement. Moraga, on the other hand, sees alliances as the way to go and that feminism should take a more active role in other social movements as well.

However, the trouble with sisterhood is that it leaves a ton of people out. Sisterhood is Powerful is a radical anthology, but most of the contributors identify as White and were fairly well-educated. None of the essays are by male allies, and only a handful are written by or about lesbians. Sisterhood certainly can be powerful, but according to whose terms? For every woman who complained about a feminine mystique (with no disrespect intended to Ms. Betty) and dissatisfaction as a domestic wife, there was another woman who was upset over having to work incredibly hard and have no time for her family. Or a woman who loved another woman and was feeling like her relationship was being ignored by the media and by a supposedly progressive social movement. If a "woman's experience" is promoted, any woman whose life did not measure up to those terms would feel left out.

But how much better is forming "this bridge" between groups? Moraga and her coeditor Gloria Anzaldua see the formation of alliances between groups and expanding feminist politics to include anti-racist and anti-homophobic activities. All of the writings in This Bridge are by minority writers. By focusing on ending racism and other social ills as well as sexism, women can then be truly empowered. The book does make a lot of sense, as many women, in particular lesbians and minority women do face interlocking forms of oppression. By being women in a patriarchal society and women of color/of a lower class/in relationships with other women in a white-preferential/materialist/heterosexist society, their burdens are even more augmented. However, the problem that Moraga runs into is the loss of a unique voice of a group. If one takes on the views and problems of others, one's voice is co-opted and expanded to include that of others. The issues that are unique to one group can become lost in the quest for alliances.

I am not entirely sure of which activist's way is best. Maybe I am overanalyzing it, because they are both legendary anthologies and should be treated as such. However, I personally think that the best way would be a delicate balance between them. Know your group and the issues that make it unique and different. But don't be afraid to reach out to other groups to gain allies and to help them in their struggles as well.

Forty years

As I stood out on the quad today, freezing my butt off to sell baked goods for the V-Day bake sale (proceeds go to the Vagina Monologues! woo for us!), I watched a very exciting and very powerful demonstration on the anniversary plaza of the Quad. The demonstration consisted of a march, speeches, and open mic to commemorate the 40th anniversary of African American Cultural Programming. The speakers were really good and talked about how it is everyone's responsibility to incorporate commitment to fairness into one's daily life. They talked about the cultural centers and the university's programs--and how far we've come since those early days.

One of the speakers brought up a story I had heard at a party and at my cluster, but it came back to me after hearing it. Apparantly, during the early 20th century, most of the dorms were all white. No minority student could live in them. This was a big surprise to me. I mean, I know racism exists and has a long and hideous history. But it was surprising to hear that many of the incoming students did not get a place to live when they came to the university. So where did they live? Many chose to stay with community members who let them board with them during the school year. So in areas like the downtown Urbana and Champaign neighborhoods, the students lived with the respective families who took them in. Some of the other students (who didn't like the rule but really couldn't do much to change it) would come over or bring food or something like that. After all, they probably would have still wanted to see their friends, even if they couldn't live in the same building.

While I would never ever want to return to an age like that, I often wonder about all the untold stories that happened in those neighborhoods. I don't really care so much about the white dorms (because that's pretty shameful) but it's the stories about the students living with the community members that sound cool. I know that if I were living during that time and had friends boarding with families, I'd probably go over and visit them or we could study/hang out together. And I would probably invite them over to see me. But I don't think I could stand a white dorm. I know that all three schools I've attended were predominantly white. However, I do hail from an area that has a large black and Latino population (whites make up about 30-40% of the population there, if that), so it's not like that is an issue for me.

Makes me glad this isn't forty years ago. I wonder if there are any written accounts of the students or their host families. I would love to read about them.