Recently in Women of Color Category
By Andrea Smith
In a society that, in large measure, condones gender violence, the problem cannot be solved by locking up a few men. It is a problem that requires a political organizing solution, one that focuses on transforming society so that it no longer condones violence.
But this has not been the focus of mainstream organizations working on sexual and domestic violence, nor of organizations inside communities of color. Women of color in the U.S. have had to create their own pathways for addressing gender-based violence in a way that also acknowledges the historic violence against their communities. Their solutions, in turn, offer new ideas for transforming society.
Full Disclosure: I am a dark skinned Black woman whose (dread) locs turned 2 years old last month. So articles like these strike a chord with me. So glad Tami's response over at WhatTamiSaid set the record straight about some of the key things to keep in mind as the discussion on natural hair ensues on the heels of Chris Rock’s Good Hair flick: 1. Black hair issues are about white supremacy not an ahistorical hang-up of some black women. 2. It is not reasonable to compare Black hair issues to hair dyeing in the white community. Black hairstyles have been sanctioned in a number of ways along race and economic lines that white women’s hair have not been. 3. The natural hair movement is about freedom.
Perhaps the last point has the most resonance with me. Tami goes on to explain what she means here:
It is about black women coming to accept their natural selves as beautiful. It is about removing the imperative that black women must straighten to be acceptable. It is about erasing the fear that an employer or a lover or the general public might see us with our nappy roots showing. It is about exercising and making love with abandon — hair be damned. It is about knowing how to care for our natural textured hair, even if we choose to wear it straight. It is about not buying in to negative and erroneous stereotypes about black hair — that it is hard to care for, that it is inconvenient, that it is costly.
While I think relaxer ads have done a great deal of hawking their products on the basis of erroneous stereotypes on black hair, I think it’s important to give visibility to the difficulties that can be involved when making the transition from relaxed to natural. I think these difficulties can sometimes be greater than they seem. And it begs the question: Who has access to the freedom of going natural? I would wager that not a lot of black women have nurturing natural hair stylists and/or access to affordable natural hair care salons and “natural” products. I haven’t done an empirical study on this. But since I have been natural, I have had hair appointments in Pittsburgh, PA; Philadelphia, PA; Washington, DC; Fort Washington, MD; Oakland, CA; Atlanta, GA and Detroit, MI.
I write this not to ask "Why do you only focus on X when Y is so more important?" Rather, I am writing because the issue has been gnawing at me for several months now, and that, coupled with a recent experience, has made me realize that perhaps we ought to explore more of an issue that, to me, is problematic within the feminist community.
A short story about the experience that got me thinking about women of the Global South: I was standing at a security checkpoint just the other day, watching four women share a bottle of water, in 120-degree heat. Just as I was thinking of how touching that moment was, I saw another soldier get out of his vehicle and with bottles of water in hand, proceeded to wash off the windshield of his vehicle. The irony and discrepancy of privilege struck me. Coupled with recent conversations with friends about the lack of attention paid to the lives of women in reconstruction and post-war nation-building, as well as the New York Times' coverage of women's rights from a global perspective, I began thinking about military operations and international politics, and whether we're asking the critical and important questions about women's lives. In all this, I came to a realization that not only are we not asking those critical questions, but that too often, we're neglecting to ask any questions or take any interest in women's lives at all.
I'll be up front: I get the feeling we're not focusing enough on bettering the lives of women in the Global South.
Whether through political activism, on Feministing, or conversations around the water cooler, it seems transnational feminism is something we rarely take on or speak of, and when we do, the conversations lack the fervor and passion we often show for the issues we choose to take on - namely the objectification of and violence against women, reproductive justice, and personal choices.
Pop Quiz: How many Black female sex workers do you have to kill to get some national media coverage ? Apparently 5. Jarniece Hargrove. Ernestine Battle. Jackie Thorpe. Taraha Nicholson. Melody Wiggins. A sixth body has been found and 3 more are missing.
Family members of the victims confirm that up until recently, authorities simply weren't doing their best: Tynatta James, sister of Ernestine Battle said to an AP Reporter : ''I didn't really feel like they were doing all they could. I just feel like they recently started to get involved in the cases after the last lady.''
They’ll call a North Carolinian murderer a potential serial killer, but they won’t call it a potential hate crime on race, gender and sexuality lines. After all, if the last season of The Wire taught us nothing, it taught us that social concern rises when the headlines are about a serial killer instead of someone who is a murderer of the marginalized. See, because then it’s just another news cycle. This somewhat explains why these murders have been happening since 2005 and many of us are just hearing about this now.
Crossposted at WireTap Magazine
On its newest cover , Ms. Magazine, a feminist publication that focuses on women, politics and culture, has represented a white woman in the form of South Asian religious iconography. With several arms each managing different tasks, the image appropriates South Asian gods and goddesses, many of which are depicted with multiple arms to signify varying roles and omnipotence.
The cultural appropriation of South Asian culture has become an increasingly popular trend, one that is often met with little resistance by mainstream communities. After all, isn't it a kind of flattery to have one's culture utilized in advertising, picked up by celebrities and influencing mainstream popular culture?
Actually, no.
The problem with the commodification of culture in this careless manner is that it's dangerous for South Asian and diasporic communities – it presents South Asian culture as a complete, fragment-free, unified category. What we wind up with is more Orientalist perspectives circulating through movies, magazines and stores, more South Asians having to answer for an entire group of individuals about everything from food to yoga, and more ignoring national, gendered, class and sexual differences within the community.
Furthermore, the appropriation of culture is a small and insignificant step in the process of "having arrived" in society. Bindis may have been acceptable for Madonna and Gwen Stefani to wear, but South Asian women who have worn them in public have faced racist acts of violence in their communities as a result. An oversimplified understanding of culture has not done anything for a larger racial justice movement and has surely done nothing to stop the stereotyping of a community.
Originally posted at http://nyaf.blogspot.com/
So, I'm Jamaican, Italian, and Cherokee Native American. (I know, it's a mouthful) Visibly, I've been mistaken for Asian, Hawaiian, Filipina, and Latina. That being said, the whole debate about being in an interracial relationship really throws me for a loop. I'm incredibly proud of all my heritage, and I don't put one above the other. I would never identify as solely Italian, or solely Jamaican, or solely Native American. I choose rather to identify as a person of color, mostly because there aren't a lot of options for me out there. I feel like when people place me into the box of being black or white, it really takes away a part of my identity and my personhood as a whole.
I feel like I should elaborate on the being placed in the "white" box. All my life, I have been told I'm not black because of various ignorant stereotypes. My friends in school, black and white alike, used to call me white because I received good grades, graduated as the salutatorian, was the president of the student body, and spoke like a "white girl." What the hell does that even mean? Were they saying that in order to be a person of color, you had to be unintelligent? I often heard the word bougie thrown my way. God I hate that word. My actions and achievements are characteristic to a person of color because I am a person of color. They should never be stereotypically categorized as "white-girl" or "black-girl." This only enforces the idea that one could never surmount to the other.
Anyway, back to being in an interracial relationship. Not saying that more of people just like me don't exist, but it's kind of rare to be Jamaican, Italian, and Cherokee. My mother's definition of me being in an interracial relationship is dating a white woman, but isn't me dating a black woman the equivolent. I know this brings up the whole debate of how multi-ethnic people identify or, perhaps more importantly, are identified by others. I've already told you what I consider my identity, and that really doesn't fit into the racial-binary of black or white. I exist as a whole, not in neat little boxes. We need to realize that self-definition has more to do with who we are as individuals and not the color of our skin. We need define ourselves. It's not always black and white.
So, Father's Day has come and gone and again, I am left pondering what it all means in the context of the philosophy I ascribe to. As a Black feminist (humanist, womanist, whatever...) the hype around Father's day is a bit disconcerting; not at all because it celebrates men, but because of the on-going discourse within the Black community (and beyond) about the absence of Black fathers and "fall" of the Black "family." I put these terms in parentheses because they are indeed myths that the Black community as bought - hook, line, and sinker. But I digress.
As a Black feminist, Father's days becomes problematic when it acts to recognize the parenting of present Black fathers as more important than the tireless work of present Black mothers (women who often do the work of both parents, and receive nothing but distain from the larger society). Because fathers are men and can demonstrated a certain Black masculinity to both their sons and daughters (albeit for different expected outcomes), the clear message in the discourse it that their parenting is superior and even preferred to the parenting of Black mothers. Black femininity, being so disparaged by controlling images of Black women as the indulgent Mammy, the loudmouth Sapphire, or the lazy Welfare Queen, has been devalued to a point that Black mothering is too often painted as inept at rearing successful children (despite the fact that many well-adjusted Black adults have come from single parent, female-headed households).
Yes, of course Black fathers who invest in their children are a wonderful and much needed part of the Black community, but we must be very careful not to buy into existing paradigms that must denigrate Black motherhood in order to uplift Black fatherhood. Fathers are great. But there is not anything that they can do that mothers cannot, and whomever it is that takes on the important roles of childrearing (discipline, cuddling, and playing catch in the yard) should be commended for the work that they do.
Dear Feministing Community,
I'm a 19 year old regular reader from San Francisco that will be a delegate this summer with the first international Indigenous Youth Delegation Visit to Palestine. As a collective of Native, Xicana and immigrant youth we will be learning from and building with Palestinian youth in the occupied territories and within the state of Israel to create stronger bonds of international joint struggle for land rights, the preservation of our indigenous sovereignty and cultures, and peace and basic rights for all people. For more information on the delegation, please visit indigenousdelegation.wordpress.com.
Most of the organizers of our trip Palestinian, Jewish, Native and Xicana womyn. If you are in the Bay Area, pleasure come out and support us June 26th, at Eastside Arts Alliance in Oakland. The title of our event is Representando Raízes de Resistencia ( “representing roots of resistance”) and will begin featuring cultural resistance in different media produced by local young artists and culminate in an exclusive showing of Slingshot Hip Hop, a film documenting the rise of internationally acclaimed Palestinian rap crews that use Hip Hop to promote international solidarity and joint struggle against military occupation. Delicious Palestinian and Mexican food will be served and we are excited to announce our live silent auction of art work will be featuring Melanie Cervantes and Leslie Lopez.
It is our hope you will be able to join us to celebrate and support our delegations and the efforts of young people world wide to use culture as a vehicle for resistance to dehumanization in all its forms.
Check us out on facebook and help spread the word by inviting all your friends: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=110640231536
With much respect and gratitude,
Natalia GP
Indigenous Youth Delegation to Palestine, 2009
I was just watching Undeclared , which is a pretty awesome show (Judd Apatow/Freaks and Geeks, anyone?). In this particular episode, the character Marshall is trying to make his crush jealous, grabbing the first girl in the common room to use as a pseudo-girlfriend. Okay, fine, that happens. What pissed me off was that this girl Kikuki, the only Asian featured on the show, did not speak a lick of English. Despite the language barrier, Marshall opts to use her as an accessory to get the attention of the girl he's actually into. A lot of the episode's humor revolves around the fact that the two are unable to communicate with each other and depend on electronic translators to keep the 'relationship' intact.
As an Asian-American woman myself, I didn't know how to react to this - I'm not sure which lens I wanted to look through first - race or gender? I kept on asking myself, what kind of message is this sending?? The invisibility of Asians in the media is one thing, but to portray the only Asian as a non-English-speaking foreigner - well, aren't we just perpetuating the stereotype? The character Ron even goes as far to say, "She seems dumb because she's foreign." Why does that make her less-than? Moreover, every time Kikuki meets one of Marshall's friends, she gives them a cookie. Marshall explains, "It's like a tradition or something," in a tone connoting that he thinks she's a bit weird for doing so. It also pissed me off that the White male was simply using the Asian female like a trophy, another stereotype that is detrimental to the Asian/Asian-American woman. He keeps on saying things like "Isn't she cute?" even though he clearly is not too comfortable with her. To further exotify her racial features, he announces, "She doesn't speak any English - she's all Japanese." What, does that give you ten bonus points or something??
I'm probably angry because I've personally been put into these stereotypes that have negatively affected me in the past. Am I reading too deeply into this? Hell, the casting crew probably wasn't trying to send a message at all. But that's almost more dangerous - we've normalized these images of what an Asian woman should look like on the screen; they're internalized and you don't have to think twice about writing such characters into the script without thinking about its implications.
[Short blurb just to spare everyone reading a post which reads more like a very long Dear Aunt Agony letter, this post has a lot to do with dating within traditional and conservative communities and patriarchal ideas about women, sexuality and roles in relationships.]
Dear lovely co-Feministingers,
My <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RAkUAdatFI">paranoid feminista</a> brain has been in overdrive for the past 48 hours and I desperately need opinions from fellow feminists as to whether I am reading too much into things and overreacting! (Funny how I can recognize all too well that a feminist analysis of ANYTHING is often deemed as "reading too much into nothing", but I still subject my own perceptions to such second(well,more like fifth!)-guessing! But that's a story for another post...)
One of my dearest friends in the world, Z, is, like me, from a very traditional and conservative ethnic and religious community. We both have very strong feminist values (although she probably doesn't identify with the "feminist" label as strongly) in general, and particularly so when it comes to dating. (In our case, men, as we are both heterosexual.) We've both been wary of dating men from our own communities, however. Even though our male peers, like us, have grown up/been living in liberal, multicultural, secular countries, our personal experience has been that when it comes to relationships and family, many of them tend to retain many of the patriarchal, sexist notions inherent in what is generally understood to be our "culture" or "tradition" and tend to form expectations of us accordingly. (Disclaimer: I have no intention of making it sound like us women of colour need our white knights to save us from the evil, misogynist men of colour, or anything like that. Misogyny is just as rampant outside our communities; but it manifests itself in different ways. And I doubt that one manifestation is any less harmful than another, but misogyny coming from men within our communities always feels like a greater burden than misogyny coming from men outside our communities, because the former is exacerbated by other inward cultural/community pressures that make it harder to stand up to. If that makes any sense.)
Z has started seeing someone from the same cultural background. (He was raised in their home country and has only recently moved here. Let's call him X.) Important backdrop: Her last two (consecutive) long-term, serious, relationships both ended up badly because the guys turned out to be complete jerks. Her last relationship (let's call him Jerk) was, for lack of a better term, a case of "impossible love". She fought very hard to be with Jerk (he was not from the same community, which was unacceptable), against all the cultural pressures dictating otherwise, so that only made Jerk's cheating on her even more devastating. Given all that she's dealt with, I am almost certain that a significant part of X's appeal to my dear friend is that he's right . It just makes sense. Z's parents love him (which, when you are tied to your familes as much as we are, matters a great deal), he's obviously very into her and he's nice . (I use the word "nice" with feminist caution and hesitation! We all know why "nice" can be problematic.)
The theme for this year's National Women and Girls HIV/AIDS Awareness Day, "HIV is Right Here at Home," hits close to home here in New York City, where 10% of all women living with the virus in the United States reside.
It's the largest population of women with HIV in the country. If all 30,000 of these HIV-positive women and girls were to come together and walk down Fifth Avenue, the crowd would approximate the swell of runners in the NYC Marathon. They could sell out Radio City Music Hall five times over and occupy more than half the seats in Yankee Stadium. A disproportionate number of these women--90 percent--are black and Hispanic; over half, or 68 percent, are over the age of 40; and more than a third, or 41 percent, were infected through heterosexual activity. This is the same female face of HIV that we have been seeing since the epidemic first began to be acknowledged in women in the 80s.
The report that my organization, <a href="http://www.womenscollaborative.com/newspub/2009/03/03/entire-report/">The Women's HIV Collaborative of New York</a> (WHCNY), is releasing today, <a href="http://www.womenscollaborative.com/newspub/2009/03/03/entire-report/">Women Living with HIV and AIDS in NYC: A Mapping Project and Literature Review,</a> reveals that 60% of all of NYC's HIV-positive women reside in just four areas of Brooklyn, the Bronx, and Manhattan.
Not coincidentally, the report also finds that these same areas are home to some of the city's highest rates of poverty, incarceration, unplanned pregnancies, and sexually transmitted diseases, as well as low numbers of high-school graduates. Women's health advocates have been arguing for decades that women's biological risk for HIV is intensified by socio-economic stressors including poverty, domestic violence, depression, homelessness, substance abuse, lack of access to adequate health care, sexual health information, or childcare, and incarceration.
If a woman is struggling to protect her children from an abusive partner, or scrambling to keep some kind of roof over their heads, or wrestling with her own addiction or depression, she isn't spending much time thinking about condom negotiation: it's not even a real option. If a woman living with HIV/AIDS is struggling with any or all of these issues, or even choosing between keeping her doctor's appointment or taking her children to theirs, her HIV status is likely be the last item on her list of priorities. That's why once women contract HIV, they become sicker faster and die sooner than men.
Our report offers a way out. It identifies down to the ZIP code those areas with the highest concentrations of HIV-positive women. It then overlays readily accessible maps of this 'hot spot' data with other maps that indicate those areas with high levels of socio-economic distress. In doing so it provides a virtual road map of NYC's areas of greatest need.
Our report's recommendations for action suggest that the time has come to enact reform in areas such as housing, education, health care, and the correctional system, and target services to these areas of highest need. What if the New York State Education Department followed the WHCNY's suggestion and issued a state mandate to teach comprehensive sexuality education in schools? Imagine the effects on neighborhoods with high rates of unplanned pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases--of which HIV is one.
Or if the Centers for Disease Control followed the WHCNY's recommendation to change the way they track transmission risk so that their numbers would more accurately reflect the number of women contracting the virus through heterosexual sex? (The CDC provides funding in proportion to the numbers of people being infected through a given kind of transmission: a more accurate count of women being infected through heterosexual sex would result in more funding and better programming geared towards this populations.)
Until we begin understanding HIV as a problem of communities rather than individuals, and begin addressing it with services and systems, the numbers of women living with the virus will keep growing, and the female face of HIV will continue to be poor and of color (and increasingly both younger and older). Our hope is that local politicians, advocates, and service providers will find Women Living with HIV and AIDS in NYC: A Mapping Project and Literature Review and WHCNY's recommended actions helpful as we all work together to curb the epidemic and heal our neighborhoods and communities.
To download the full report, click <a href="http://www.womenscollaborative.com/newspub/2009/03/03/entire-report/">here</a>.
Note: this piece is cross-posted from The Huffington Post.
I don't live in NYC, so I haven't had the opportunity to see Will Ferrell's "You're Welcome America" show - but I did read this article on it, which gives serious props to the actor, Pia Glenn, playing a sexed-up, lap-dancing Condi Rice.
I know the show is a parody. And it sounds like she does a great job of vamping it up onstage - but I'm wondering if anyone who's had a chance to see the show could provide a little context. For me, the article set-off some alarm bells what with it's exuberant celebration of the performance of hypersexualized black femininity (he warms his hands over her red-hot booty. yay?). But without having seen the show, I'm speaking from a compromised position. Because Ferrell's playing a socially conservative character, does it make lap-dancing Condi a satirical representation, which effectively zaps an otherwise stereotypical, damaging portrayal of its potency? And, if so, does the article do different cultural work? *arrg* then again, maybe a cigar is just a cigar and maybe i need a coffee.
Like many politicized and not so "political" women of color I've had my qualms identifying as a feminist. As addressed before the Internet blew up, traditional western feminist discourse connotes white, middle class, straight women and many of the issues fought center this group; that has been covered extensively Online, in print, and on Feministing by folks like Samhita. Zoom back to me, as a 27 year-old daughter of working-class Mexican immigrants and a single urban mama , my lifestyle and at times worldview does not seem to be grasped by western feminism. Like I've said before in my other blog and in real life conversations, my mama, grandmama (resting in peace now) aunties, mentors and closest friends do not identify as feminists and are some of the staunchest, strongest, hard working, autonomous independent thinkers, and just people that I know. All without identifying with feminism, and as complicated as that is, I respect that and even admire it. Honoring the women in my blood and non blood family relating to them, has made it easy for me to question and at moments reject dominant feminism.
I live in L.A. where there is a huge Latin-American and Latino immigrant population. Forgive me if this has been the topic many times before, if so, I missed it. I can pass for Latina (especially to "white"people) but, know very little of their expression in the feminist movement. Is there a Latina Bell Hooks?
I consider some of the women in the public eye, like Sanda Cisnero & Selma Hayek, celebrated for acting and writing as feminists, but haven't heard them actually claim feminism.
Where are the Latinas ?
At my school (within the US), there is a minority association for under-represented minorities. I feel the purpose of this is to create a forum where these minorities feel they can discuss potential barriers and issues that impede their success as well as provide support to each other. However, by being an organization for under-represented minorites, they distinctly (although not explicitly) disallow the attendance of so called "over-represented minorities".
My problem with this, as a Asian-American female, is how narrow their definition of minority status is. Many people look at the asian population in the US and create a stereotypical picture of of one of the "richest" minority groups. It has been shown many times that Asians, specifically Indian-Americans, have a higher median income than the average american. However, they fail to realize that this population, like EVERY other population, is incredibly diverse. As an Indian-American women, the women who influence my life consistely earn significantly less than men and are less likely to receive education, even more so than other ethnic communities in the US (1).
My frustration is in the lack of acknowledgement of the significant areas of poverty within the community, and the lack of public support for their needs. The poor and underserved Indian-Americans are overshadowed but their rich counterparts, and do not receive the attention, support and encouragement they deserve. The stereotype of a successful Asian American (who is invariably a doctor), prevents people from understanding that there are poor people in this community that not only lack the opportunities to succeed, but also are assumed to be "innately" predestined for success, and therefore deserve no assistance.
Why does the term "under-represented" minority exist? I understand there are significant disparities within the Black, Latino and American Indian population within the US, and this group is targeted to address those needs. And obviously these races are under-represented as far as the percentage of these races in my school are less than the percentage of these races are in the general population in the US. But why disallow people who are under-represented minorities in other manners?
I am trying to make myself believe that there is simply a lack of understanding on what minority status is. They don't think "Asian" is a minority since they have a higher average wealth within the United States. But part of me, the part of me that has been judged for my race, my caste, and my class, and for the little differences in skin tone that most Americans wouldn't even see, believes this is deliberate. That it makes a group feel better to be insular and reject someone who doesn't fit their specific reality. I understand this is a bias that I bring from my past experiences, and is not necessarily accurate. But it still exists.
A few months ago, we highlighted on WVFC the achievements of Annette Gordon-Reed , professor, attorney and historian, whose new book The Hemingses of Monticello comes four years after DNA evidence finally quieted most critics that had claimed that Thomas Jefferson couldn't possibly be the father of the children of the enslaved Sally Hemings. (Click the first link for video of her conversation with Charlie Rose.)
Last week, Gordon-Reed talked to WVFC editor Chris Lombardi about sexual power, how working at Rikers Island prepared her for controversy, and how it felt to raise a 15-year-old daughter while writing about a teenager who became pregnant by a President.
The first thing I heard anyone say about Michelle Obama following her husband’s historic election on November 4th were these three words: “What was that?” And no, they weren’t talking about a radical speech that this Princeton- and Harvard-educated woman had made. People on the streets, buses and subways decried Michelle Obama’s election-night fashion choice on the morning of November 5th.
The stir that Michelle Obama’s fashion “faux pas” caused may look like usual tabloid fodder, but the attention paid by the mainstream media to our future first lady’s sense of style starts sounding a little more dubious when we view it through the multiple lenses of racism, classism and sexism. During Barack Obama’s campaign, conservative news outlets circulated analyses of Michelle Obama’s unwomanly ‘anger’ (these accusations brought on, might I add, by the understandable statement that, as a black woman, she hadn’t always been proud of her country). The title of her Princeton thesis, “Princeton-Educated Blacks and the Black Community” concerned nervous voters. Shallowly beneath the surface lay the real problem: A whole lot of Americans felt pretty uncomfortable that this highly educated black woman was actually discussing racism, instead of pretending that it didn’t exist.
With this short campaign history in mind, the debate around Michelle Obama’s election-night dress is revealed for what it truly was: A shoddily constructed effort to avoid the reality that a strong, smart, fiercely capable black woman will soon live in the White House. As much as the tabloid news might want to dumb her down as another fashion icon or victim, Michelle Obama is much more than either of those things. She’s someone who might confront us with some tough issues. Whether or not you voted for Obama, that sounds like just what we need right now.
I just finished watching a 20/20 special entitled "Babyland," a one-hour show about infant mortality in Tennessee.
The special focused primarily on teenage mothers in Memphis, located in a county where one baby dies every 43 hours. The vast majority are African Americans.
They documented the journey of a young woman named Precious Simpson, who lives in a Memphis neighborhood burdened by poverty and crime.
A wealthy white woman named Terry, from a suburban Memphis neighborhood, mentored Precious throughout her pregnancy, providing guidance, friendship and financial assistance. She heard about the opportunity from a church bulletin.
She seemed very nice (even though she claims to have "helped Precious make the decision not to have an abortion").
Ok. I'm tired everywhere I go especially being around hispanics, they immediately think that being a woman (first), and being Mexican (second) I should biologically love to cook! My boyfriend's mom thinks it's wrong that I don't find enjoyment in cooking, so does my boyfriend. He tell's me that he would cook for me everyday, not because it is a role but because he loves me and wants to see me happy. I tell him that I would appreciate that but he doesn't have to because I wil love him wether he does that or not. Then he also says that I shouldn't let my feminist views control all my life, that I should learn how to cook because is needed, not because I'm a woman.
This December, I’ll be visiting my family in the Philippines for the first time in seven years. I’m hoping to view the country with new eyes.
I've always felt pretty aware of my prejudicial notions about Filipino culture, society, people — and only mildly guilty for entertaining them. Growing up, I learned to regard the Philippines with a kind of benign contempt, always cognizant of its shortcomings, and therefore ever appreciative of the opportunities afforded me by American society. But even as I got older and began to question these notions, privately testing their validity, I only managed to exchange one set of prejudices for another. When my parents told me as a child, for example, that Filipinos had no culture before the Spanish came, I accepted that as fact; as a precocious teenager struggling to be objective and politically correct, however, I rejected this idea in favor of one that seemed less harmful (but was certainly no less prejudicial): Of course the Philippines had a rich culture before the Spanish came; they just don’t anymore.
Similarly, as a child I somehow concluded that Filipina women wanted so desperately to be white and western because they were, themselves, inferior; as a teenager I exchanged that view for one which regarded Filipinas as helpless victims of colonization. While the latter was an improvement, I was still very much an unwitting ethnocentrist.
Years of college education and life experience helped me out a bit but even as lately as a few weeks ago, I persisted in regarded the Philippines as an unfortunate, post-colonial society with little to offer me – and I persisted in regarding myself as apart from that society where I was uniquely positioned to judge them as an objective bystander.
And then, in a last ditch attempt to learn a little something about Filipin@ culture before my trip, I went to the library and checked out everything I could carry on the Philippines. The volume on top: Melinda L. de Jesus’s book, Pinay Power: Peminist Critical Theory , a collection of essays written by Filipina-American (pinay) women on identity and Filipina feminism (peminism).
By Grace Lee, NAPAWF law intern
Deciding to become a vegetarian was not a difficult choice for me, after learning about the cruelty of slaughterhouses, farms, and animal testing. I found it fairly easy to alter my favorite recipes to be vegetarian. I receive negative reactions sometimes, but most people respect my decision. Something that I do struggle with as a vegetarian, though, is that I meet so few fellow vegetarians of color. The majority of the vegan/vegetarian community seems to be white and privileged.
I had the most difficult time as a vegetarian when I lived in Seoul, South Korea. Korean food actually features lots of vegetables and tofu, and there are Buddhist vegetarian restaurants in South Korea. The popular perception, though, is that Koreans are a barbequed meat-obsessed community. When I went out in Seoul, Korean BBQ was what the people I was with most wanted to eat and what was most popularly offered at restaurants. Trying to ask waiters about vegetarian options became a task I dreaded. Although I would ask for meat to be taken out of a dish, it would often still appear, and I would be told to just pick it out. Even my relatives would try to sneak meat into dishes that I ate. While in Seoul, I was also repeatedly asked to justify my decision to be a vegetarian and told that this choice was unhealthy. My aunt, for example, frequently let me know that I would have a difficult time finding a husband if I didn’t eat meat or if I wouldn’t cook meat for him. My mother has also said this to me at home.
These types of comments made by my aunt and mother angered me the most and made me begin to think of feminism and vegetarianism together, instead of as two distinct issues. I became more aware of the way the feminist and animal rights movements intersect. The violence in meat consumption echoes sexual violence against women. Both women and animals are also exploited as consumable objects by patriarchal culture. Just as women are oppressed, animals are exploited as a source of food, entertainment, or some scientific breakthrough at whatever cost to the animal. This overlap is clearly displayed in images of animals portrayed with “female” characteristics and as happy to be eaten:
(Image from Suicide Food )
Vegans/vegetarians of color are mobilizing together. There are many blogs online by vegan people of color, such as Vegans of Color . Although I still feel like I am one of few, hopefully this will change.
This post is really about women and communities of color in the United States with regards to Western feminism and misogyny within communities of color. The phenomenon of honor killings will be used to frame this broad topic:
A Georgia father of Pakistani descent allegedly strangled his 25-year-old daughter because she wanted to get out of an arranged marriage to a man she had not seen in months, according to police in Clayton County, Ga. [link ]
What this man did to his daughter is despicable and should absolutely, unequivocally be condemned. His twisted notions of "izzat" (meaning 'honor' in Hindi/Urdu) are no excuse for this horrific act. The South Asian community needs to confront the issue of honor killings head-on, since they happen within our community disproportionately and broad cultural norms are used to justify murder and misogyny.
However, the way the dialogue on honor killings in the Western world is framed needs to change. Although cultural context needs to be acknowledged in these cases, it does not give an excuse for Westerners, Western media, and Western feminists to condemn an entire culture because of certain bad practices within that culture. Rather, the individual practice itself should be condemned.
Violence against women is rampant in Western countries; does that give non-Western feminists an excuse to dismiss Western cultures and concepts as 'misogynistic'? I doubt I'll see a day when I hear about how all of American culture should be condemned for its blatant misogyny because of high rates of violence against women, unhealthy images of women in American media, and racism against women & communities of color.
