When They All Look the Same to You

The first time a white person mistook someone else for me, I was a teenager being scolded for offending someone I’d never met. I’ve also offended white people by failing to notice a trait, or imprecisely labeling a trait, that they considered to be practically personality-defining. These two types of mistakes are more related than not and shed light onto how “they” truly can all look the same to you.

If you find yourself mistaking one member of a certain ethnic group for another, you can improve by rethinking how you tell people apart.
Continue reading “When They All Look the Same to You”

When They All Look the Same to You
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2016’s Non-White Authors Reading Challenge

2015 was my year of avoiding male authors. This year, I focused on non-white authors*. I’m not about to defend the experiment again, since I have done so already.

My top ten picks of what I read in 2016, in no particular order aside from #1 which is short and amazing and you must read or listen to it.

  1. The Vaporization Enthalpy of a Peculiar Pakistani Family by Usman T. Malik (the short story is available for free at the link; there is also an incredible audio version)
  2. A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki
  3. Throne of the Crescent Moon by Saladin Ahmed
  4. Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor
  5. Monstress by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda
  6. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
  7. Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon
  8. The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu
  9. The Hakawati by Rabih Alameddine
  10. White Nights, Black Paradise by Sikivu Hutchinson

After the jump: A full list of the books of 2016 by categories that I made up, along with my reflections on them. Continue reading “2016’s Non-White Authors Reading Challenge”

2016’s Non-White Authors Reading Challenge

Perspectives on Marriage, Re: The Arranged Kind

Content Notices: discussion of coerced marriages and child marriages; mild fatphobia in paragraph eight

While arranged marriages tend to either be wholly defended or reviled by those outside of cultures that currently engage in it, the way in which it is practiced varies quite bit. Arranged marriages don’t all work one way or follow one script. This ought to be unsurprising for a practice that ranges through many time periods, cultures, religions, sensibilities, and geographic regions.

A variety in terms of what arranged marriages can look like as well as their differing outcomes can be found within a just single person’s perspective and experience: mine. My family has been part of the Subcontinental Diaspora for multiple generations now, so I have relatives on every continent except for South America (and Antarctica, if you count that as a continent). Combine that with how the generation preceding mine consists of large families where the first child was born when the parents are teens and the last was born right before Mom hit menopause, and you get a family where, within just three generations, marriage practices vary greatly. Continue reading “Perspectives on Marriage, Re: The Arranged Kind”

Perspectives on Marriage, Re: The Arranged Kind

My Prince, or Who Cares About Celebrity Deaths

As Niki reports, 2016 is seriously sucking as far as celebrity deaths go. Prince, as in the Prince, has been confirmed dead. A lot of us are in mourning.

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Those who aren’t are wondering why. He exhibited a petty streak, as some of these stories dubiously dubbed “outrageous” confirmed. He was a dedicated Jehovah’s Witness, along with all that is carried by that description. Furthermore, mourning celebrities, especially non-niche ones, is commonly associated with being vapid and shallow, so empty in your head and in your life that you over-invest yourself in the lives of famous people. Feeling sad about the death of a star is for people too mainstream to care about things that the masses are too uninformed to care about, the reasoning goes. I may be guilty of multiple counts of performative apathy on this front myself.

Yet, for me, the grief over the death of Prince only exists because I am and always was a weirdo in so many ways, not because of the few aspects of myself that might be considered stock-standard. Continue reading “My Prince, or Who Cares About Celebrity Deaths”

My Prince, or Who Cares About Celebrity Deaths

How Nelson Mandela Becomes “African American”

I’ve witnessed my friends in education have a good laugh over a student calling Nelson Mandela “African American” to differentiate him from the white South Africans responsible for his oppression. Back when I used to be an SAT tutor, I, too, chuckled when I read essays calling Mandela and any number of other African historically significant figures by that term. Bonus guffaws were awarded when the student called someone who died before 1776 by that term.

It is incredibly funny when a student uses the term anachronistically or otherwise incorrectly, but these instances also indicate something important about the sorts of conversations about race that American students have — and more importantly don’t have — especially at the secondary and elementary school level. Continue reading “How Nelson Mandela Becomes “African American””

How Nelson Mandela Becomes “African American”

Cookies As Rebellion: On the Value of Differing Perspectives

Recently, I completed my listen of the audiobook for Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal. Gawande’s work has been on my list for years. Thanks to my 2016 reading challenge of reading exclusively non-white* authors, I finally made my way to him.

The book is a moving and important read, making a compelling argument for bringing humanity back to the process of dying. As a former believer, grappling with my mortality is something I’ve done deliberately and conscientiously. As someone who would be paralyzed were it not for modern surgical techniques, I am eager to balance my enthusiasm for scientific advances with a reality check about the inherent ultimate frailty of the human body. As the current caretaker to a disabled spouse, the more dire side of the modern, medicalized system of illness and death is never far from my mind.

That Gawande is Indian shouldn’t matter in a book about the American medical system, right? Any good doctor with writing chops could have produced as excellent a work as Being Mortal, theoretically speaking. Yet it is not so. Continue reading “Cookies As Rebellion: On the Value of Differing Perspectives”

Cookies As Rebellion: On the Value of Differing Perspectives

Are You Mainstream? Then Act Like It.

At a Los Angeles film meetup, I once met a Christian who claimed that she was oppressed for being a “woman of faith.” Why? Because most of her friends are non-religious, she is sometimes assumed to be an atheist, and she is outnumbered at social events to the point where she feels uncomfortable with the idea of challenging the mockery of religion that is part of the conversations there.

She didn’t take my suggestion that she move a few mile down south to Orange County, home of the Trinity Broadcasting Network and some of the nation’s largest megachurches (and now home to overtly-religious city councils), too kindly. Though there was some baffled sarcasm in what I said, I wasn’t wrong: even LA County has its share of megachurches. She is hardly outnumbered or oppressed in any real sense of those words.

That she is not actually oppressed for being a Christian who chooses where she lives, works, and socializes is readily apparent to any person, secular or religious, with an understanding of how much of the world exists in its current state. However, plenty of people make similar — and similarly ridiculous — claims of oppression about matters as personal as shampooing to issues as political as veg*nism and non-monogamy. Continue reading “Are You Mainstream? Then Act Like It.”

Are You Mainstream? Then Act Like It.

“Liberal” ≠ Get-Out-of-Everything-Free-Card

Radical liberal movements getting defensive about people of color’s specific concerns? It’s more common than you think. On the more recent end, it happened with Occupy Wall Street, and it happened with Slutwalk. And here we are. It is happening again, right before our eyes, with Bernie Sanders.  Continue reading ““Liberal” ≠ Get-Out-of-Everything-Free-Card”

“Liberal” ≠ Get-Out-of-Everything-Free-Card

Haramadan Day 1: Religion & Tragedy

Ten years ago, I would have spent my early afternoon reciting al-Fatihah at least four times, chanting Allah hu akbar seemingly endless times to mark my transition from motion to motion. Today, instead, I say the names of people I don’t know, people whose lives were cut short: Sharonda Coleman-Singleton. Clementa Pinckney. Cynthia Hurd. Tywanza Sanders. Myra Thompson. Ethel Lee Lance. Daniel L. Simmons. Depayne Middleton. Susie Jackson.

It isn’t that I think religious believers are apathetic when it comes to justice (quite the contrary), or even that I didn’t care about tragedy when I was a believer. It’s more that, without feeling like I know that justice will eventually be served and that the victims are in a better place, my immediate reaction involves a lot more anger. There is no way to immediately soothe myself, just a rawness and a sense of loss and of being lost. Continue reading “Haramadan Day 1: Religion & Tragedy”

Haramadan Day 1: Religion & Tragedy

Dear Bobby Jindal: You’ll Never Be White

Dear Bobby bhaiya,

Can I call you that, actually? Or are you going to pretend, like the guys I talk to on the tech support line, that you don’t understand what that word means?

I’m just trying to show you a little izzat. As much as I disagree with you, you are one of the few of the many, many potential Republican candidates for president who isn’t white. You had this to say about heritage and culture.

My dad and mom told my brother and me that we came to America to be Americans — not Indian-Americans. If we wanted to be Indians, we would have stayed in India. It’s not that they are embarrassed to be from India. They love India. But they came to America because they were looking for greater opportunity and freedom. I do not believe in hyphenated Americans.

Aré, bhaiya. I know how you feel, I really do. Once upon a time, I would’ve agreed with you. I thought that acting as if I were just another American (i.e. a white person) would aid in the fight in eradicating racism. I thought that the way to deal with racism was to treat it like a pimple: Ignore and it will go away.

Then, I stopped being 19 years old, and learned that you can’t just wish away the hyphen. Continue reading “Dear Bobby Jindal: You’ll Never Be White”

Dear Bobby Jindal: You’ll Never Be White