1. a person of multiracial, multiethnic or multicultural descent.
2. Someone with an appreciation of and for diversity.
All original content © 2011
Jamila Lyiscott: 3 Ways to Speak English
“I have decided to treat all three of my languages as equal because I’m articulate. But who controls articulation, because the English language is a multi-faceted oration subject to indefinite transformation … I know I had to borrow your language because mines was stolen, but you can’t expect me to speak your history wholly while mines is broken.” — Jamila Lyiscott
“White privilege is just the ability to be viewed as an individual not as a member of the collective and to be given the benefit of the doubt.” - Tim Wise
I personally have misgivings about Tim Wise that I need to mull over (he’s benefitting from the hardships of people of color by discussing how he benefits from the hardships of people of color. It’s like the white privilege version of Inception) - but I think this video can be a good tool for learning ways to navigate conversations about race when you’re in a discussion with someone who doesn’t understand white privilege.
Comedian Hari Kondabolu on David Letterman (x)
What’s this tolerance business?
Tolerance also proliferates the US vs THEM trope of social identity. It suggests the larger, hegemonic “we” is merely tolerant of the ‘other’ which does nothing to trouble notions of identity entirely.
"I think a lot of people like to see gender as this scale of blue and pink," Emma, a 20-year-old college student, told the magazine. "I never really identified with either side of that, or even in between blue and pink. It’s so much more complicated — my identity varies so much on any given day. Sometimes I tell people I’m gold or something."
Amanda shares: Last week while in the grocery store, our 5 yr old daughter Macy, home from Ethiopia almost three years, grabbed the latest issue of “O” magazine off the rack and yells, “MOMMA, LOOK! THIS LADY HAS BIG HAIR JUST LIKE ME!”. Made me (and everyone else in line) giggle. Love that my girl is proud of her big, free hair!
Representation in the media matters!!!
South Korea’s Not-So-Subtle Racist Hiring Practices
Every year, hundreds of young English speakers drift into East Asia, looking to while away a couple of aimless years between college and the inevitable round of grad school applications that await them back home. Korea is an especially popular destination: The Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education alone plans to hire 655 foreign teachers in 2014, a fraction of the 22,000 expat educators working in the country. But if you want to teach English in Korea, it’s a lot easier if you’re white.
For most would-be instructors, the racism begins before the even get through the door, thanks to the standard South Korean practice of requiring applicants to submit photos alongside their resumes. Some employers are more blunt: A recent Craigslist ad for English teachers from TalknLearn, a Seoul language academy, simply states, “Need: White” on its list of required qualifications. When black teachers do make it into the classroom, they’re often passed over in favor of their white counterparts.
“I’ve had kids pulled from my class and placed in Caucasian teachers’ classes due to the request of the parents wanting their child to learn from a white American and not a black one,” said Megan Stevinson, an American English teacher in Seoul, whose parents are black and Korean.
An excellent example of a meaningful - productive - apology. And I’m going to quote someone I love (yes, it’s Dumbledore) and say, “It’s our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”
A photo of the momma and I!
Below are some of my thoughts on what it’s like to be me:
Cornered in the grocery store, back pressed against stacked cans and rows of condiments – “But where are you really from?” On the subway, walking home, hair grabbed by a stranger in a pale coat – “What are you?” I spend my life defending my identity. The constant questioning: but, where, what. I’m from here, I say. I’m from right here, our land, our state, our country. I want to tell them that by rejecting my answers, shaking their head and asking, again and again, “No, no. But where are you really from?” they are telling me that I cannot belong.
Their words leak from their patient smiles, they are certain that I cannot come from the same place they do because we are so very different. To them, my curly hair and brown skin are incompatible with their lives, their land, their country – they are trying to steal my home from me without realizing they are robbing their own house. When you ask me, “But where are you really from?” I want to say – I’m from right here. I’m from this space between two people meeting for the first time who feel worlds apart. I’m from the difference between skin and the constant questioning of my parentage. I’m from a motherland that sometimes feels it’s easier to pretend I don’t exist and a fatherland that can’t always see itself in my smile.
I am from here, the gaps and grey spaces in our nation where people don’t quite belong. I am from the space between two patient smiles shared by strangers trying to convince each other that they exist. Friend. I am from right here, from the moment when two people who seem so very different, realize they are at heart the same- I promise you, this, is where I’m really from.
My submission to The Race Card Project