interview with spoken word artist Kelly Tsai:
http://openthecity.org/?p=1222
Kelly Tsai's "The Ballad of a Maybe Gentrifier"
http://kellytsai.bandcamp.com/track/the-ballad-of-a-maybe-gentrifier
Thoughts?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Specialized High School Admissions
Flipping through my Google Reader tonight, I stumbled upon a New York Times City Room blog post about the decrease in black and Hispanic students in the Specialized High Schools. In particular, my alma mater, the prestigious Stuyvesant High School, accepted 12 black and 13 Hispanic students out of a class of 937 students.
Do you know that feeling you get when you realize that another year has passed? Almost one year ago to the day (on a Friday, in fact) City Room printed the same story, when just 7 black students were admitted. I remember feeling the same shock, reading this article while sitting on the same sofa. So much has happened in the last year in my own life, but if I use these two articles as benchmarks, it seems like nothing has changed at all.
It's time to reform the Specialized High School Entrance process. We applaud ourselves for being a merit based institution (and I'm privileged to have had the opportunity to attend this great public school), but the ethnic makeup of the student body speaks to the vast inequalities in the public school system that Stuyvesant only perpetuates. Stuy, the "crown jewel" of the Specialized High Schools, is effectively only accessible to white and Asian students. Equal treatment unfortunately does not always lead to equal outcome. Equality and justice are two different things. It's time to begin the discussion about enacting progressive admission policies that provide opportunities for qualified, dedicated black and Hispanic students to join the Stuyvesant community in large numbers.
Do you know that feeling you get when you realize that another year has passed? Almost one year ago to the day (on a Friday, in fact) City Room printed the same story, when just 7 black students were admitted. I remember feeling the same shock, reading this article while sitting on the same sofa. So much has happened in the last year in my own life, but if I use these two articles as benchmarks, it seems like nothing has changed at all.
It's time to reform the Specialized High School Entrance process. We applaud ourselves for being a merit based institution (and I'm privileged to have had the opportunity to attend this great public school), but the ethnic makeup of the student body speaks to the vast inequalities in the public school system that Stuyvesant only perpetuates. Stuy, the "crown jewel" of the Specialized High Schools, is effectively only accessible to white and Asian students. Equal treatment unfortunately does not always lead to equal outcome. Equality and justice are two different things. It's time to begin the discussion about enacting progressive admission policies that provide opportunities for qualified, dedicated black and Hispanic students to join the Stuyvesant community in large numbers.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
On Chinese Mothers (aka 我爱我的妈妈）
An essay titled "Why Chinese Moms are Superior" by Yale Law professor Amy Chua appears in today's Wall Street Journal, and has already drawn over 300 comments online. The essay is incredibly simplistic and shamelessly makes caricatures out of the "Chinese mother" and the "Western mother." Where to begin?
Chua is a second-generation Chinese-American, whose parents are academics that immigrated from the Philippines. She describes her strict parenting style as a replica of her mom's parenting style, the "Chinese mother" parenting style. She has not allowed her daughters to:
• attend a sleepover
• have a playdate
• be in a school play
• complain about not being in a school play
• watch TV or play computer games
• choose their own extracurricular activities
• get any grade less than an A
•
WHAT? If this was "Chinese," how would that work for all the other students who can't be No. 1?
• play any instrument other than the piano or violin
• not play the piano or violin.
HOLY CRAP. Does it get more stereotypical than this? I admit that my mom is at times a toned down version of this "Chinese mother," and many of my Chinese-American friends would probably identify with one or two of these bullet points, but this is not an average Chinese mother. This is a super-concentrated version of a many different strict mothers, boxed and labeled as a "Chinese mother."
My Chinese momma did not immigrate to get an education, and did not come with one either. She worked in a garment factory in Chinatown where she was paid by the number of zippers she sewed and the number of buttons she attached. As I was growing up, she bought test prep books and encouraged me to do them, but there was no way she could make sure I was doing the practice problems correctly. As I chose my own extracurricular activities, and watched TV, and played computer games, we sometimes bickered but I was able and am still able to convince her that I know what's good for myself.
I look back fondly on all the lunar calendar Chinese holidays that I celebrated at home, where my mom would buy delicious roast meat from a butcher, and prepare fish and vegetables for the many Buddhist deities. Before eating the too-big-to-fit-on-one-table meal, my brother and I would pour rice wine in three mini cups and say prayers to the God of the Heaven, the God of the Earth, and our grandfather. These prayers were typical: health and prosperity for our family and friends. But, a tongue in cheek "年年考第一," meaning "Be the best in school every year," always finished our prayers. I was never actually No. 1, but that was okay.
What I find unsettling about Chua's analysis is that she creates a freaky dichotomy between Chinese mothers and "Western" mothers. (A side note: as a woman who was born and raised in America, how is Chua not a Western mother herself?) Aren't all good parents concerned about their children's academic success? According to Chua, "If a Chinese child gets a B—which would never happen—there would first be a screaming, hair-tearing explosion." (cough cough Model Minority MYTH)
I get that Chua is proud of her kids - the WSJ essay has a picture of one of her daughters playing piano at Carnegie Hall and - but their "success" is probably as much a product of her strictness as it is a part of the privilege of having educated parents, non stop private lessons etc. In my observations, "success" requires neither crazy strictness nor abundant resources (although the latter must be nice). Students range from the "successful" to the not so "successful," parents (yes, even Chinese parents) range from the strict to the super lax, households range from loaded ($$$) to paycheck-to-paycheck, and the equation that puts all these factors together is not so simple. Chua's essay is not an apt description of the "Chinese mother," but a long congratulation for herself, and plug for her new book.
Although the essay has many gems, the last paragraph is the best. She writes:
"Western parents try to respect their children's individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away."
Woah, my Chinese momma did all of these POSITIVE things, "Western" and "Chinese," without being batshit crazy. So please, no superficial, simplistic distinctions between Chinese mothers and "Western" mothers please.
Chua is a second-generation Chinese-American, whose parents are academics that immigrated from the Philippines. She describes her strict parenting style as a replica of her mom's parenting style, the "Chinese mother" parenting style. She has not allowed her daughters to:
• attend a sleepover
• have a playdate
• be in a school play
• complain about not being in a school play
• watch TV or play computer games
• choose their own extracurricular activities
• get any grade less than an A
•
not be the No. 1 student in every subject except gym and drama
WHAT? If this was "Chinese," how would that work for all the other students who can't be No. 1?
• play any instrument other than the piano or violin
• not play the piano or violin.
HOLY CRAP. Does it get more stereotypical than this? I admit that my mom is at times a toned down version of this "Chinese mother," and many of my Chinese-American friends would probably identify with one or two of these bullet points, but this is not an average Chinese mother. This is a super-concentrated version of a many different strict mothers, boxed and labeled as a "Chinese mother."
My Chinese momma did not immigrate to get an education, and did not come with one either. She worked in a garment factory in Chinatown where she was paid by the number of zippers she sewed and the number of buttons she attached. As I was growing up, she bought test prep books and encouraged me to do them, but there was no way she could make sure I was doing the practice problems correctly. As I chose my own extracurricular activities, and watched TV, and played computer games, we sometimes bickered but I was able and am still able to convince her that I know what's good for myself.
I look back fondly on all the lunar calendar Chinese holidays that I celebrated at home, where my mom would buy delicious roast meat from a butcher, and prepare fish and vegetables for the many Buddhist deities. Before eating the too-big-to-fit-on-one-table meal, my brother and I would pour rice wine in three mini cups and say prayers to the God of the Heaven, the God of the Earth, and our grandfather. These prayers were typical: health and prosperity for our family and friends. But, a tongue in cheek "年年考第一," meaning "Be the best in school every year," always finished our prayers. I was never actually No. 1, but that was okay.
What I find unsettling about Chua's analysis is that she creates a freaky dichotomy between Chinese mothers and "Western" mothers. (A side note: as a woman who was born and raised in America, how is Chua not a Western mother herself?) Aren't all good parents concerned about their children's academic success? According to Chua, "If a Chinese child gets a B—which would never happen—there would first be a screaming, hair-tearing explosion." (cough cough Model Minority MYTH)
I get that Chua is proud of her kids - the WSJ essay has a picture of one of her daughters playing piano at Carnegie Hall and - but their "success" is probably as much a product of her strictness as it is a part of the privilege of having educated parents, non stop private lessons etc. In my observations, "success" requires neither crazy strictness nor abundant resources (although the latter must be nice). Students range from the "successful" to the not so "successful," parents (yes, even Chinese parents) range from the strict to the super lax, households range from loaded ($$$) to paycheck-to-paycheck, and the equation that puts all these factors together is not so simple. Chua's essay is not an apt description of the "Chinese mother," but a long congratulation for herself, and plug for her new book.
Although the essay has many gems, the last paragraph is the best. She writes:
"Western parents try to respect their children's individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they're capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits and inner confidence that no one can ever take away."
Woah, my Chinese momma did all of these POSITIVE things, "Western" and "Chinese," without being batshit crazy. So please, no superficial, simplistic distinctions between Chinese mothers and "Western" mothers please.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
hello chinatown, do you remember me?
happy new year!
After too much time away from home in 2010, it feels so good to be home for winter break. It's crazy to think that since last winter break, I've been home for 5 days. The past two weeks have been super relaxing and full of chinatown sisters, long conversations, hanging out with mom, and college essay editing for my brother. Yay for three more weeks at home!
Since it's a new year, and since I haven't blogged in forever, I've decided that it's time for a change -- more posts. lots more posts. One of my resolutions is to write more - blog posts, creative pieces, and political pieces. In the busyness that was 2010, I forgot about the incredibly soothing activity that is writing. Woops! Here's hoping that 2011 will be full of writing, fun CS classes, and time with friends and family.
[caption id="attachment_86" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="19 and forever young "]
[/caption]
After too much time away from home in 2010, it feels so good to be home for winter break. It's crazy to think that since last winter break, I've been home for 5 days. The past two weeks have been super relaxing and full of chinatown sisters, long conversations, hanging out with mom, and college essay editing for my brother. Yay for three more weeks at home!
Since it's a new year, and since I haven't blogged in forever, I've decided that it's time for a change -- more posts. lots more posts. One of my resolutions is to write more - blog posts, creative pieces, and political pieces. In the busyness that was 2010, I forgot about the incredibly soothing activity that is writing. Woops! Here's hoping that 2011 will be full of writing, fun CS classes, and time with friends and family.
[caption id="attachment_86" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="19 and forever young "]
[/caption]
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Rethinking the Language of "Tolerance"
Tolerance - it's like me accepting you for who/what/when/where/why/how you are right? We use this language to create a hopeful utopia of equality, righteousness, and justice. We say it to one another and bear it as a badge of being a safe, comforting ally. When we say tolerance, it's a good thing right? At least that's what I've always been taught and have always thought.
For the past two weeks, I was lucky enough to hear two very different social justice activists speak on their viewpoints of social justice, privilege, race/racism, gender and sexuality, and all the overlapping and tangential gray areas that all these topics encompass. I met Elijah Kuan Wong, spoken word artist, and Dennis Chin, "professional" activist. On both occasions, the topic of the language of "tolerance" was brought up by the speakers. They questioned the implications of using that word, especially in the social justice and activism arenas.
Elijah, the notably angrier and agressive speaker, completely scorns the idea of tolerance. He absolutely hates it. To him, people should never let others "tolerate" them. To tolerate someone is inherently holding them to a standard that shouldn't be there in the first place, and gives the tolerator power over the tolerated. Why should certain people be tolerated, and others not? Where are these lines of tolerance drawn and why should they be assumed?
Dennis Chin, on the other hand, "loooooooooves tolerance." But he also brought up a very interesting point: the differences between "tolerance" and "understanding." While tolerating people is not a bad thing, he finds understanding people to be much more useful and potent. To understand someone is to relate to them and much more accepting the many dimensions that a person is and can be, as opposed to tolerating someone one-dimensionally.
What they said really got me thinking and wondering. Where did we get this notion of tolerance from? I remember my teachers, friends, family, and influences telling me that tolerance is a good thing and intolerance is bad. Hell, even at Wesleyan, everyone always makes snide comments at how Wesleyan's biggest intolerance is against intolerance. There seems to be a general belief among tolerators, myself included, that it will bring about acceptance and equality, but is that a bad thing? Here is my theory:
Everyone knows that when the Pilgrims came over to America, they were fleeing from religious persecution. They sought on a perilous sea voyage to find a land where they could practice their religious freely and safely. This spurred many other religious groups, similar and different ones, to come to American land so that they may start their own colonies and thus, religious pluralism was created. The presence of this pluralism did require a sort of agreement on religious tolerance, especially since the basis of these colonies were built upon the important of religious freedoms. Then these ideas were codified in the Bill of Rights under the First Amendment, the freedom of religion. Is this where the culture and idea of tolerance equals equality comes?
If that is true, then we should evaluate the progress of equality as brought about by the tolerance and protections by the American Constitution and Bill of Rights. Did the Constitution and Bill of Rights indeed immediately bring equality. History will always tell us no and no, again and again, certainly not racial equality, gender and sexual orientation equality, class equality, and so many more. Though there have been so many improvements and milestones, so many victories were hard-fought and hard-won, all to raise this standard of being tolerated and being equal. The qualifications of being equal enough to earn the right.
To me, the language of tolerance is similar to the colorblind/race-blind language. It's a term that means so little but has so many implications. Just because someone doesn't believe in race doesn't mean racism doesn't exist. Just because someone is tolerant doesn't mean that person is fully understanding and accepting. It's like a giant reassuring cloak that deludes us in believing that everything is alright and okay, but it hides all the problems underneath. It hides the fact that people may be tolerant, but they may not believe in equal civil liberties or even equal public expression. By tolerating someone, we set a standard that as long as they are below or at this line, it is fine. It's implies a restrictive box that does not allow for change, and that is the space people need the most. The power is in the hands of the tolerator because they allow others when the others shouldn't be "allowed." They should just simply be.
Going back to what Dennis Chin, understanding does provide space for that growth. The growth that enables everyone to be as multi-facetious as they are, need to be, and can be. Understanding implies education and the willingness to learn more and to adapt. So where does tolerance stand in the spheres of social justice and activism?
I think tolerance is not a bad thing. It's definitely better than blatant oppression and persecution. However, tolerance is by no means a standstill victory. Maybe a small win, but not a victory. There is still something to be said and done, and fights and arguments still to be had.
For the past two weeks, I was lucky enough to hear two very different social justice activists speak on their viewpoints of social justice, privilege, race/racism, gender and sexuality, and all the overlapping and tangential gray areas that all these topics encompass. I met Elijah Kuan Wong, spoken word artist, and Dennis Chin, "professional" activist. On both occasions, the topic of the language of "tolerance" was brought up by the speakers. They questioned the implications of using that word, especially in the social justice and activism arenas.
Elijah, the notably angrier and agressive speaker, completely scorns the idea of tolerance. He absolutely hates it. To him, people should never let others "tolerate" them. To tolerate someone is inherently holding them to a standard that shouldn't be there in the first place, and gives the tolerator power over the tolerated. Why should certain people be tolerated, and others not? Where are these lines of tolerance drawn and why should they be assumed?
Dennis Chin, on the other hand, "loooooooooves tolerance." But he also brought up a very interesting point: the differences between "tolerance" and "understanding." While tolerating people is not a bad thing, he finds understanding people to be much more useful and potent. To understand someone is to relate to them and much more accepting the many dimensions that a person is and can be, as opposed to tolerating someone one-dimensionally.
What they said really got me thinking and wondering. Where did we get this notion of tolerance from? I remember my teachers, friends, family, and influences telling me that tolerance is a good thing and intolerance is bad. Hell, even at Wesleyan, everyone always makes snide comments at how Wesleyan's biggest intolerance is against intolerance. There seems to be a general belief among tolerators, myself included, that it will bring about acceptance and equality, but is that a bad thing? Here is my theory:
Everyone knows that when the Pilgrims came over to America, they were fleeing from religious persecution. They sought on a perilous sea voyage to find a land where they could practice their religious freely and safely. This spurred many other religious groups, similar and different ones, to come to American land so that they may start their own colonies and thus, religious pluralism was created. The presence of this pluralism did require a sort of agreement on religious tolerance, especially since the basis of these colonies were built upon the important of religious freedoms. Then these ideas were codified in the Bill of Rights under the First Amendment, the freedom of religion. Is this where the culture and idea of tolerance equals equality comes?
If that is true, then we should evaluate the progress of equality as brought about by the tolerance and protections by the American Constitution and Bill of Rights. Did the Constitution and Bill of Rights indeed immediately bring equality. History will always tell us no and no, again and again, certainly not racial equality, gender and sexual orientation equality, class equality, and so many more. Though there have been so many improvements and milestones, so many victories were hard-fought and hard-won, all to raise this standard of being tolerated and being equal. The qualifications of being equal enough to earn the right.
To me, the language of tolerance is similar to the colorblind/race-blind language. It's a term that means so little but has so many implications. Just because someone doesn't believe in race doesn't mean racism doesn't exist. Just because someone is tolerant doesn't mean that person is fully understanding and accepting. It's like a giant reassuring cloak that deludes us in believing that everything is alright and okay, but it hides all the problems underneath. It hides the fact that people may be tolerant, but they may not believe in equal civil liberties or even equal public expression. By tolerating someone, we set a standard that as long as they are below or at this line, it is fine. It's implies a restrictive box that does not allow for change, and that is the space people need the most. The power is in the hands of the tolerator because they allow others when the others shouldn't be "allowed." They should just simply be.
Going back to what Dennis Chin, understanding does provide space for that growth. The growth that enables everyone to be as multi-facetious as they are, need to be, and can be. Understanding implies education and the willingness to learn more and to adapt. So where does tolerance stand in the spheres of social justice and activism?
I think tolerance is not a bad thing. It's definitely better than blatant oppression and persecution. However, tolerance is by no means a standstill victory. Maybe a small win, but not a victory. There is still something to be said and done, and fights and arguments still to be had.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
RIP Tam Tran, fierce immigration student activist
I read today that a fierce activist that I met a few months ago passed away.
Tam Tran was one of several undocumented students who came to Harvard to speak about the DREAM Act a few months ago. She, and other students, courageously shared her family's story in a half filled lecture hall in Sever Hall. I remember that day very clearly. It was a Friday evening, I had walked over from a conference with very good catered food, and I just finished an apple crumble desert. The lecture hall in Sever Hall was filled with students I had never met. I thought- perhaps here are all the students that care about comprehensive immigration reform on campus.
"Tam was born in Germany to refugee parents who fought communism in their country. When she was six years old, the family moved to California. They requested asylum in the U.S., but their application remains in limbo. Tam and her family are stateless: Germany will not accept them back because they are not of German origin and return to Vietnam is impossible given the family’s anti-communist history." (apimovement.com)
On May 15 , she and one of her closet friends, Cynthia Felix, died in a car accident in Maine. She was 27.
Although I didn't personally talk to Tam, she left a definite impression on me. She had the most charming voice -- somewhat kiddy, yet very strong. And she was a Leader. She set up a comfortable environment for the other, younger, students to share their stories as undocumented citizens. I'm sure she was thinking about Arizona until the day of her tragic accident. To read about her death via my news feed, in China, at work, is a tragic thing. May she rest in peace, and may the fight for the DREAM Act and CIR succeed, soon.
Please sign this petition to grant her citizenship posthumously, and to grant her family citizenship:
http://immigration.change.org/petitions/view/request_posthumous_citizenship_for_tam_tran
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/obituaries/articles/2010/05/17/tam_tran_brown_student_fought_for_immigrant_rights/
Tam Tran was one of several undocumented students who came to Harvard to speak about the DREAM Act a few months ago. She, and other students, courageously shared her family's story in a half filled lecture hall in Sever Hall. I remember that day very clearly. It was a Friday evening, I had walked over from a conference with very good catered food, and I just finished an apple crumble desert. The lecture hall in Sever Hall was filled with students I had never met. I thought- perhaps here are all the students that care about comprehensive immigration reform on campus.
"Tam was born in Germany to refugee parents who fought communism in their country. When she was six years old, the family moved to California. They requested asylum in the U.S., but their application remains in limbo. Tam and her family are stateless: Germany will not accept them back because they are not of German origin and return to Vietnam is impossible given the family’s anti-communist history." (apimovement.com)
On May 15 , she and one of her closet friends, Cynthia Felix, died in a car accident in Maine. She was 27.
Although I didn't personally talk to Tam, she left a definite impression on me. She had the most charming voice -- somewhat kiddy, yet very strong. And she was a Leader. She set up a comfortable environment for the other, younger, students to share their stories as undocumented citizens. I'm sure she was thinking about Arizona until the day of her tragic accident. To read about her death via my news feed, in China, at work, is a tragic thing. May she rest in peace, and may the fight for the DREAM Act and CIR succeed, soon.
Please sign this petition to grant her citizenship posthumously, and to grant her family citizenship:
http://immigration.change.org/petitions/view/request_posthumous_citizenship_for_tam_tran
http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/obituaries/articles/2010/05/17/tam_tran_brown_student_fought_for_immigrant_rights/
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Prep School Negro
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="324" caption="The Prep School Negro: a Documentary Film by André Robert Lee"]
[/caption]
I was fortunate enough to attend a screening of "The Prep School Negro" yesterday, and I have to admit that when I first saw the word "Negro," I thought it had to be a joke because I couldn't process the use of that word in a serious context. However, I thought more about it, and I realized that it was not an politically-incorrect driven joke, but more of a reflection on the dynamics of race in prep schools (silly me). This documentary juxtaposes André Robert Lee's, the director, experience as a student of color in a predominantly white prestigious prep school with students of color attending the same school in more recent years, as well as a personal reflection in his adult years through his family and film-making process.
Lee grew up in the ghettos of Philadelphia as a black child and was always interested in his academic studies. His studiousness paid off when he received a full scholarship to attend Germantown Friends School, a prestigious prep school. Throughout his years there, he often realized that he was the only black person in his classes and at events. Though he was able to pursue his academic goals more ardently at GFS, he always felt immense guilt because of the growing distance between him and his family. In fact, he felt a constant tug between being "black" with his family and neighborhood friends and being "white" at school with his teachers and classmates. This tug drove a wedge between him and his family because of the differences in habits, speech patterns, interests, and desires. He reflects immensely on the differences in the cultural capital of his white classmates and his black family that immensely influenced his growth as a student and an adult.
Lee also comes back to high school where he speaks and interviews other students of color at GFS to talk about their experience as the few faces of color in a predominantly white school, and unsurprisingly, their sentiments are similar, a lack of ability to relate to their white classmates, the confusion about acceptable behavioral patterns that are dictated by racial and class expectations are still present. The footage revealed students of color considering really interesting questions such as, "Do you feel there are enough black, Hispanic, Asians, and students of color in private/prep schools?" and "Do you feel you are the spokesperson of your race?" In the film, there are accounts of racist interactions that these students of color have to endure, including being the exotic black guinea pig where white classmates would ask to touch their hair and touch their skin or a case where a black student was ostracized for not being "black enough."
The third storyline in this documentary is Lee's attempt to reconnect with his family years after graduation from college and while he was filming. He captures his mother's and sister's experience and reflections on his attendance at GFS, and his "white-washing" and loss of intimacy and familial connection. However, the film beautifully portrays the emotional rebuilding of the bridge between Lee and his family, as they talk through differences to come together.
This documentary raises really interesting points about the education system for students of color, such as the "burden of being white" that is often felt by students of color when having to adjust to a culturally white academic environment and the hostilities they face at school and at home. Black students and students of color are always having to reinvent themselves to accommodate to the standard of a seemingly respectable and cultured student. Students of color are often tokenized and perceived as the "spokesperson" because many of their white classmates have not had much racial exposure elsewhere. Also, this film raises the issue of the differences in cultural capital between predominantly black public schools and predominantly white private schools, and their different learning environments. He makes the point that these private schools often support systems for the majority while not providing enough support for the minority. While white students may feel comfortable and safe in these environments, students of color are constantly undermined by their lesser numbers and cultural differences.
This was a really interesting documentary that brought up many interesting points on racial dynamics in educational institutions. I recommend this documentary immensely! Here is the link to his website of film screenings, and please try to make one of them!
Also, this documentary mentioned the "black table" that was always at school where all the black students always sat together (you know what I'm talking about). Another really interesting blog post that analyzes and reflects more deeply on this issue of race and space is ChopTensils "Black Frats, Asian-American Student Unions, etc." post.
[/caption]I was fortunate enough to attend a screening of "The Prep School Negro" yesterday, and I have to admit that when I first saw the word "Negro," I thought it had to be a joke because I couldn't process the use of that word in a serious context. However, I thought more about it, and I realized that it was not an politically-incorrect driven joke, but more of a reflection on the dynamics of race in prep schools (silly me). This documentary juxtaposes André Robert Lee's, the director, experience as a student of color in a predominantly white prestigious prep school with students of color attending the same school in more recent years, as well as a personal reflection in his adult years through his family and film-making process.
Lee grew up in the ghettos of Philadelphia as a black child and was always interested in his academic studies. His studiousness paid off when he received a full scholarship to attend Germantown Friends School, a prestigious prep school. Throughout his years there, he often realized that he was the only black person in his classes and at events. Though he was able to pursue his academic goals more ardently at GFS, he always felt immense guilt because of the growing distance between him and his family. In fact, he felt a constant tug between being "black" with his family and neighborhood friends and being "white" at school with his teachers and classmates. This tug drove a wedge between him and his family because of the differences in habits, speech patterns, interests, and desires. He reflects immensely on the differences in the cultural capital of his white classmates and his black family that immensely influenced his growth as a student and an adult.
Lee also comes back to high school where he speaks and interviews other students of color at GFS to talk about their experience as the few faces of color in a predominantly white school, and unsurprisingly, their sentiments are similar, a lack of ability to relate to their white classmates, the confusion about acceptable behavioral patterns that are dictated by racial and class expectations are still present. The footage revealed students of color considering really interesting questions such as, "Do you feel there are enough black, Hispanic, Asians, and students of color in private/prep schools?" and "Do you feel you are the spokesperson of your race?" In the film, there are accounts of racist interactions that these students of color have to endure, including being the exotic black guinea pig where white classmates would ask to touch their hair and touch their skin or a case where a black student was ostracized for not being "black enough."
The third storyline in this documentary is Lee's attempt to reconnect with his family years after graduation from college and while he was filming. He captures his mother's and sister's experience and reflections on his attendance at GFS, and his "white-washing" and loss of intimacy and familial connection. However, the film beautifully portrays the emotional rebuilding of the bridge between Lee and his family, as they talk through differences to come together.
This documentary raises really interesting points about the education system for students of color, such as the "burden of being white" that is often felt by students of color when having to adjust to a culturally white academic environment and the hostilities they face at school and at home. Black students and students of color are always having to reinvent themselves to accommodate to the standard of a seemingly respectable and cultured student. Students of color are often tokenized and perceived as the "spokesperson" because many of their white classmates have not had much racial exposure elsewhere. Also, this film raises the issue of the differences in cultural capital between predominantly black public schools and predominantly white private schools, and their different learning environments. He makes the point that these private schools often support systems for the majority while not providing enough support for the minority. While white students may feel comfortable and safe in these environments, students of color are constantly undermined by their lesser numbers and cultural differences.
This was a really interesting documentary that brought up many interesting points on racial dynamics in educational institutions. I recommend this documentary immensely! Here is the link to his website of film screenings, and please try to make one of them!
Also, this documentary mentioned the "black table" that was always at school where all the black students always sat together (you know what I'm talking about). Another really interesting blog post that analyzes and reflects more deeply on this issue of race and space is ChopTensils "Black Frats, Asian-American Student Unions, etc." post.
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