So I Googled "Racist Mayor..."

...to try to find the article we read in class. Weirdly enough (but that surprisingly) that phrase had a lot of hits. And I mean a LOT of HITS. Many of them were articles about a mayor in Connecticut who said he would help the Hispanic population of his town by having tacos for dinner. And then, of course, there was the one we read in class, about the "rain dance" joke. I found another one concerning a debate over casinos in which a mayor in Michigan referred to a local tribal leader as "Chief Chicken Little" and said that he was being targeted with "bows and arrows."

Objectively, these jokes aren't really even funny. I mean, "bows and arrows?" Even I could think of something better than that. And there are far too many of them--too many instances of jokes gone awry. Clearly, people are not thinking before they speak. And I really don't care how old you are, or where you grew up, or when you grew up, or the fact that you've never grown up. A slur is a slur is a slur.

But aside from that, I'm not really sure what to think. I mean, I definitely oppose the use of racial slurs or racially-derived jokes. But I'm beginning to wonder if the immense amount of outcry in response to some of these comments are more helpful or more hurtful. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of PETA. PETA does great work--that's obvious. But sometimes their methods can be a bit questionable, such as using sex to push animal rights (the two are connected how?). These methods (and the fact that so few people actually understand the importance of the animal rights movement) can work to give PETA and all animal rights activists bad names. However, on the whole, I support the work they do and think anyone working for animal rights should support them as well. They have political power and they use it for the greater good. In the same way, activist groups who call out politicians, celebrities, etc, for using racially charged language or making racist jokes are doing a good thing. They are trying to end prejudice and using their power to call attention to comments that are just unacceptable. However, like PETA, I sometimes wonder if their methods are the best. They can make the rest of us working for social justice look crazy or as if we're just looking for a reason to pounce on someone.

On the other hand, there are always going to be people who believe that working for racial equality, or animal rights, or gender equality, are nuts and should focus their energies on a worthwhile cause. There are always going to be people who believe that racism is dead, so what's the point of activist groups? So maybe there's nothing wrong with being incensed. I know I am.

Watch your Language!

For today's class reading, two articles were assigned that covered Native language survival. One was by a Native Hawaiian woman trying to preserve her native language by setting up a language school. She talked much about the importance of language survival. The other was by an Arapaho man, also trying to preserve his tribe's native language by forming language schools. Both schools were relatively successful, if I remember correctly.

On the surface, the issue of preservation of language can seem a little arbitrary, at least less important than preserving religious rituals and other aspects of culture. But language is a cultural practice just like any religion, ritual, or work of literature, art, or music is. Often, language defines aspects of a culture. Certain words only have meaning in a particular language. Tenses and ways of referring to objects can be different. For example, there is a group of people (no clue what their name is or where they're from) who refer to inanimate objects as having 'life' of some sort, some kind of activity or spirit. In English, an object is just an object; if we forced these people to learn English, they would lose an important aspect of their culture. 

I don't think the circumstances are different for the language of any Native tribe. Sharing a language and being able to communicate in a particular way with others is one of the most important parts of a peoples' ability to be connected. In some ways, language is a defense mechanism. If English speakers can't understand what Natives are saying, the Natives have the ability to say whatever they want without repercussions. It's the reason my mom and I want to be able to speak French better--so we can talk about people without them knowing. We saw this in Reel Injun. In the movie, Native actors would say offensive things to the white actors in their native languages. Of course, the white actors could not understand them. This connected the Native actors and gave them strength.

I understand now that language is just as important as an aspect of culture to be preserved as religion, the arts, and traditions are. 

The Imposition of Religions

Culture clash can be positive or negative, as we've seen through studying interactions between Natives and settlers. More advanced medicines are usually good. Cultural genocide, not so much. But what about religion? From what I have seen in the writings for class, it seems that the interaction between Native  religions and Christianity has been nearly universally negative. In Chapter 12 of A Will to Survive, the first  author gives her account of growing up and being introduced to Catholicism with her tribe. She gives typical Catholic horror stories of judgmental priests, harsh nuns, and threats of hellfire. On several occasions, she sees people coming out of confessional booths crying, or hears the priests on the other side of the confessional shouting at people taking part in confession.

I may be a little biased, not being a fan of religions in general, but I can't envision a situation where trying to replace someone else's religion or introduce organized religion to people who are not familiar with it would be a good thing. It's just plain presumptuous to think that others are not as serious in their religion, or lack thereof, as you are. However, this is exactly how the missionaries to the Natives thought. They believed they were introducing the Natives to a more 'civilized' religion (yes, because burning people at the stake, burning books, burning down houses, burning...a lot of stuff...in the name of God is really civilized). Not that the Native religions didn't have their violence (especially against animals), but at least they were respectful about it. They didn't have the top down, binary-infused mess of a religion that many white people did and do. They had religions that gave respect to all living things and didn't impose strict, arbitrary moralities and systems on followers.

Essentially, no religion is really better than any other (get my double meaning? Haha, I'm sorry, that was a little rude). There is nothing that makes Catholicism better than a local, tribal religion, and nothing that makes the local religion better than Islam, or Judaism, and vice versa. If people started realizing this, we would live in a much better world.

Race and the Media

A trend I have been noticing in the material we've discussed in class is that is seems to be "okay" to be racist against certain groups. From products and sports teams being named after entire nations to the issue of the freshman committee making headdresses, it seems as though racial issues involving Native Americans are less important than those involving African or Caribbean Americans, Asians, or any other oppressed group. Like I said earlier, a station at the freshman "diversity" fair that painted people in blackface would have incensed outrage, whereas the station that was really thought of, the one making "Native" headdresses, went unnoticed except by people in our class. How can this be?

Part of me wants to say it's just plain ignorance (which it really is), but why is there so much ignorance? Who is perpetuating the ignorance? Is it individuals or families that just don't know any better, or is it the government? The media? Something else?

I would like to argue that the media and advertising is the reason for much of this ignorance. Obviously ignorance is being passed down from generation to generation, but it has to stem from somewhere, and the root of the problem comes from the media.

When it comes down to it, the media are the ones unintentionally conditioning us to be racist. The media is the reason why people are generally more afraid if they're walking through a city alone, at night, and there's a black man behind them than if there's a white man behind them (I'm not saying this is right, but I'm saying that it happens this way). I will openly admit that I am guilty of this profiling myself. It's horribly embarrassing, but it's true. I feel like a terrible person for feeling that way, but I also know that I have been conditioned by television to associate black people with crime. As much as I have tried to break this habit, it's a physiological reaction that doesn't seem to want to go away.

Of course, that's kind of unrelated, because it's not the point I'm trying to make. It just shows how much influence the media has on our ideas of race. When it comes to Native Americans, it's a lack of coverage by the media that allows for so much ignorance. People aren't necessarily openly racist against Natives (at least not here in the Northeast), but they know nothing about them. Their issues aren't shown on TV. Their struggles is not written about in the newspapers. It is not covered on the internet. They are absent from mainstream media and, in the eyes of the average person, silent and nonexistent.

Other races, on the other hand, are at least represented, even if it's negatively. Their struggles are covered by the media. If something someone in politics said offended Asians, or African-Americans, it is found out about, incenses rage, and is usually apologized for. This is never the case for Native Americans, about whom racist things are said on a daily basis (Washington Redskins, anyone?)

So I'm not really sure who I'm blaming here. The media provides people with stories they want to hear, but people want to hear more stories like the ones the media provides, so the media provides more stories like that. It's a vicious cycle that multiple people are responsible for and it ensures that groups like Native Americans are excluded from mainstream discourse. Perhaps that's why it's "okay" to make headdresses.

What I Didn't Like at NMAI

Last Friday, our class visited the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, D.C. I thoroughly enjoyed the museum and its political messages. But there were a few things I simply could not get past.

I'd like to preface this by saying that, of course, I have respect for every culture in some way, even if I don't agree with what they do or how they think. Well...unless they're totally horrible in every way, but I can't think of many cultures that are like that. I'd also like to note that I am well aware that everyone who reads this will roll their eyes and be all like, "there she goes again..." I'm not really concerned with whether or not people agree with what I have to say--I just feel that I need to get it off my chest.

Okay, here we go.

All that spiritual connection with animals, all the "consent" to be killed and used...yeah, that's all bullshit. And yes, I know I'm Ms. Supervegan and what not, so of course I would feel this way, but really, it's all complete bullshit, and I'll explain why.

Really quickly--another preface: I am in no way demonizing these people for doing what they needed to survive pre-20th century. Gardein and Tofutti didn't exist until like, the 90s at the earliest (maybe the 80s for Tofutti--they've been making kickass vegan frozen treats and cheeses for a while). My point is, you can't blame people for not using resources that they don't have. This is in the same way that I wouldn't blame people in say, the mountain regions of Tibet, for eating meat because barely anything grows there. What I want to focus more on are the rituals that involve animals. My real complaint exists not so much in the actual slaughter of animals, but in the realm of all the false rhetoric that surrounds that slaughter, because it's all really unoriginal and ridiculous when you really think about it.

Firstly, if you really respect and love animals, you won't use them for silly things like religious rituals. I understand that religion is a big deal, but, objectively, it's kind of arbitrary. For example, when we were at the museum, I saw a depiction of a ceremony in which the full skins of white deer were held up on giant sticks and everyone stood in a circle, for no apparent good reason. I'm sure there was something positive that they thought would happen if they did this, or something negative that would happen if they didn't, but things are going to either happen or not happen regardless of whether you slaughter fifty deer and hold them up on sticks. It's just silly. And a bit suspect, I think.

I had to. Anyway, on to my next point. I was very disturbed by the rodeo video that we watched. In fact, I walked away early because I just couldn't watch any more. Few people actually understand how harmful the rodeo actually is to animals. Could you imagine spending your entire life in a cage, only coming out to run around, be caught rather violently, and be put back in the cage? It must be horrifically boring. And that poor sheep who was being ridden by that little kid...what a miserable existence to have to do the same things over and over again with little reprieve. And this is the bare minimum of suffering for these animals. Most of the time, they are beaten or otherwise tortured so they perform properly. And, just like the religious rituals, the rodeo is completely pointless. "Tradition" is a terrible excuse for anything. You know what else was "traditional"? Owning slaves. Sacrificial ceremonies of both animals and humans. Does that mean that these things are good, just because they are part of a tradition? I certainly wouldn't say so.

My final point is that the idea of animals "wanting" to help humans by "giving" them their meat and skins is totally unoriginal and completely silly. In one of the videos at the museum, a legend told of a man who traveled in the four directions. At one point, he met animals, particularly the buffalo, who told him how to use its skins and meat for warmth and food. I almost laughed when I watched that. I mean, come on. What rational being would say, "Sure! Take my life. I wasn't using it or anything." I mean, that just makes no sense.

The other part of this is the idea of the Myth of Animal Consent. My understanding, from studying this theory, is that throughout history, humans have justified the taking of lives of animals in completely arbitrary ways, purely for their own sakes (if you read my blog posts from last semester, I mentioned this myth in my tangent against Barbara Kingsolver). In ancient Greece, sacrificial cows (for fortune-telling, I'm assuming, another silly idea) would be taken to the oracle. The oracle would ask the cow if it was willing to sacrifice itself, and then proceed to drip water on its head. And then--this is the laughable part--the cow would shake the water off its head, and the oracle would take this as a nod in agreement. When they hunted, the Yakut people would say, upon encountering a bear or anything else they wanted to kill, "You have come to me. You wish me to kill you" (all this from Foer). Native Americans are no different from the Yakuts or the ancient Greeks (or us, for that matter, because we do this too, in different ways). It makes no difference to an animal if you're "honoring" it, or using every part of it--it's being killed. Was Jeffrey Dahmer a more moral serial killer because he gained sustenance from the people he killed? Do you think the people, as they were being drugged, raped, and strangled to death, cared that he was going to eat them? Do you think that made them feel better? Of course it didn't. All they cared about was the fact that someone was killing them, and animals are no different. We can make up all the spiritual connections we want--when it comes down to it, violence is violence, and no amount of spirituality can change that.

If you really, sincerely, disagree (or agree) with me, let me know. I'm always interested to hear feedback.

The Nature of 'Our Jokes'

In Me Funny, one of the contributors comments on the differences between three types of jokes having to do with Native peoples: not jokes, in jokes, and our jokes. Not jokes are jokes told about Natives by non-Natives. They are not funny because they are generally being told by someone of the dominant culture, therefore they are not jokes at all. In jokes are jokes that both Natives and non-Natives can relate to. Our jokes are jokes told by Natives for Natives. White people are usually not in on these types of jokes.

When we were watching Native comedians in class the other day, one routine that caught my attention was Charlie Hill's deprecation (if you could call it that) of the dominant culture. It could be argued that Hill's jokes were 'our jokes,' making fun of white people and the dominant society. Now, I take no issue with this deprecation because being white is awesome. I don't mean that it's better than any other race, but I mean, in this world, it's pretty awesome to be white. We get ridiculous privilege over anyone with skin darker than ours, and I think it's important for every white person to recognize this privilege. Being ignorant about white privilege only perpetuates racism because it gives no reason to combat racism. If we believe that white people have no privilege, then why should we be concerned about racism? If white privilege is nonexistent, then racism is dead, and, of course, this could not be further from the truth.

So what does white privilege mean for 'our jokes'? Does it mean that Native people have a right to make our jokes in the presence of white people? I would argue that of course they do. Some people may harp on about "reverse racism" (which doesn't really exist, mind you. That's a sociological fact), but ultimately white people are the privileged group. In my opinion, we should really not be offended by anything. Because, at the end of the day, we're still not going to be targeted disproportionately by police. We're still going to have no trouble hailing a taxi. No one is going to attribute our individual features to our race. Yes, I do think these jokes are allowed to make us somewhat uncomfortable, but no one should be calling them offensive to white people. We have always been the winners, the writers of history--I think we could stand to be knocked down a few pegs.

Native Humor Clips Response

One thing I found both interesting and extremely funny throughout these clips was the Native comics' abilities to blend aspects of white, mainstream culture with both contemporary and older Native culture. They all seemed to do this very effectively.

In the "Last Real Indians" comic, the artist combined the taking aspects of Native identity and culture by modern, white hipsters with the idea of identity theft protection through "Hipster Repellent." The Chiefs of Comedy blended older Native stereotypical culture with the animal skins and the feathers and the music of the Beastie Boys--definitely a juxtaposition, but funny and done well. The Frybread movie combined the traditional art and competition of making Frybread with the skeleton of a modern, mainstream cooking competition that might be found on the Food Network. This, in a way, mocks how seriously some people, even Natives themselves, might take cooking competitions. It seemed that some of this trailer may have been tongue-in-cheek, but it's hard to tell for sure. Finally, Charlie Ballard's clip (my personal favorite) linked traditional stereotypes of Native peoples with modern stereotypes of gay men. Statements such as "I'm not afraid of getting HIV from white men, I'm afraid of getting smallpox!" humorously combine these cultures.

I think this blending of cultural ideas is extremely effective for these comedians. Not only does it make the clips hilarious, but it also sends a message about the relevance of Native culture. These clips show the links between modern white culture and contemporary Native culture, which is a connection which most white people don't really think exists. Most white people think that Native Americans all still wear headdresses and feathers, or are all sad and angry at white people. This is simply not a fair generalization to make, and these comedians show this. These connections also serve another important purpose, separately for white people and for Natives. The Native humor aspects help the comedians connect to the Native audience, while the jokes about white, mainstream culture help comedians relate to a white audience. In this way, then, everyone is in on the joke, and this greatly helps advance understanding of Native culture for non-Natives.

The Comedy Ladder

 In the" Diversity Day" episode of season one of the television show The Office, manager Michael Scott learns an important lesson about humor: who is telling a joke can be the difference between hilarity and offensiveness. While Chris Rock can pull off a joke about Black people on his comedy show, Michael cannot without being complained about to the corporate office. Here is the clip:

Toward the beginning of the clip, after mulling over the difference in consequences for him and Chris Rock, Michael asks, "Is it because I'm White and Chris is Black?"

In Drew Hayden Taylor's collection on Native humor entitled Me Funny, Taylor introduces an interesting idea about humor between and among people of different racial and ethnic backgrounds. Through what he calls a reverse pyramid (or ladder; same essential metaphor) of oppression, Taylor lays down the rules as to which groups can make fun of which other groups. Humor scholars, comedians, and many people from minority backgrounds would probably answer Michael's question with a resounding "Yes!"

I've spoken to many people in my life who have complained about this very issue. They have all been white people harping on about how unfair it is that (insert group here) can make a joke about (insert same group here), but if a white person does it, it's offensive. Needless to say, most of the people I've heard this argument from are none too bright. But it is undeniable that being the majority, being part of the privileged group can be uncomfortable when it comes to humor about and of minority groups. When is it okay to laugh? And should we (when I say we, I mean white people such as myself) be telling these jokes? More importantly, should anyone be telling these jokes?

For me, I tend to laugh when I am amused, and I am amused a lot. I laugh at everything, even when I'm not supposed to. I share this trait with my mom, the only other person in the world I've met who 100% understands my humor. I went through a phase where I refused to laugh at racially charged humor, and then I watched Lisa Lampanelli. I still do refuse to laugh at them unless a professional comedian is making the joke, and sometimes not even then. I have never thought a women's rights joke was funny (which is interesting, because I am a part of that group. Maybe I'm being hypocritical). My point is, maybe it's okay to just laugh when we're amused. We don't have to agree with the humor, but some things are just funny.

However, I don't think the average white person should be telling jokes about Native peoples, or Black people, or Asian people. I am on board with Taylor's ladder of oppression. Don't poke fun at people below you. So, as a middle class, white, female, atheist vegan (and yes, I'm going to go outside racial and gender boundaries into minority choice territory. Deal.), I should be able to make jokes about rich people, males, folks of the Church of Christ, and omnis, since they are all higher and more respected in our society's hierarchy than myself. 

As far as whether anyone should be telling these jokes, maybe they should, maybe they shouldn't. The point is, they're going to do it anyway. White people are going to tell jokes about minorities. Minorities are going to keep telling jokes about themselves and everyone above them on the social ladder. (This is why I'm not a philosophy major anymore). While I don't generally agree with white people telling jokes about minorities, there are of course exceptions for those who make their living off of comedy (sometimes). Maybe all we can do is take a stance.

Generalizations and Stereotypes: A Retrospective on the First Half

HOLY CRAP PINK SLIME. IT'S EVERYWHERE.

Okay, so that was totally unrelated, but seriously something you should all check out. It's messed up. And I just saw it on the front page of Yahoo News.

Ahem.

Anyway.

One thing that I've been trying to be more conscious of is not generalizing. That is, trying to recognize that Native peoples come from different tribes and that those tribes can be vastly different from one another, that they don't all share the same opinions or experiences. As I've said in previous posts, some generalizing can be necessary for understanding, but, once you understand, how much should you generalize? Ideally, not at all, but this doesn't seem very possible. We're probably going to do it anyway.

These ideas have really made me consider how most of us do that with any group. Black people are just black people, not South African, Moroccan, Jamaican, Haitian. Feminists think that... Liberals/conservatives believe...

Of course, a lot of this has to do with stereotypes. But there's also another level of generalization, one that's less intentional, less cruel than stereotyping. It's me thinking that Native Americans wear feathers. It's that girl in my Shakespeare class saying that feminists would like Helena from All's Well. It's those people I sat next to in the Bear's Den who believed that all Mormons are polygamists. This type of generalization is more about misunderstanding differences within a group rather than perpetuating false perceptions of a group. While it is less cruel, it can have the same effects as advancing stereotypes.

For example, if I decide that all Native peoples are like Paul Chaat Smith and think that white people who are interested in Native people are stupid, I'm going to be disinclined to support their cause. And if I tell other white people that Natives are just angry and don't want our help, those people are probably going to harbor the same feelings of hostility. Certainly some Natives feel that way, but not all do.

The basic difference, then, between generalization and stereotyping is that stereotyping generally springs from a complete lack of knowledge nor care of a particular peoples, whereas generalization can spring from a little information and some care, but a misunderstanding. I consider myself, up until this point, to have been functioning from a state of generalization. I knew the stereotypes were wrong, but I didn't have enough knowledge to know generalizations from specifics.

Where am I now, then? All I know is that I still have a lot to learn. And maybe I'll never get past generalization. Hopefully, though, I can make it most of the way there.

Smoke Signals: A Native Reality?

Today in class we watched the majority of the film Smoke Signals. One of the points of discussion about this film is how representative it is of the average Native American experience. Obviously the experience of Natives in every nation is different, but, for the sake of argument, I am going to generalize a bit.

Before I even began to consider the content of the film, I did a little research on the good ol' IMDB. What I found was encouraging: Smoke Signals is directed by, written by (screenplay and book), and stars Native people (on a side note, the woman who played Suzy voiced Pocahontas in the Disney film. I'm not commenting on her credibility, I just thought it was interesting. A gig is a gig is a gig, I guess...). This fact certainly boosts the degree of the film's sovereignty for Native peoples. It is a story written by Native people, filled with many jokes meant for Native people, filmed at a place where Native people really live, with all creative decisions about the film made by Native people.

As far as the content of the film, it seemed to be very much based in reality. By this I mean that it is not a film in which the Native experience was romanticized. It showed modern Natives on a modern, poverty-stricken reservation. There was no Native crying at litter on the side of the road, nor were there peyote rituals or rain dances or potlatches. The Natives in the film litter. They drink, though some do not. Some live in poverty, and some have money. They have senses of humor. Most importantly, they are all different people. The dichotomy that exists between Thomas and Victor exemplifies this. Thomas has money, lives with his grandmother, and never seems to have suffered any abuse. Victor lives with his mother and, when his father was around, he was an alcoholic and abused both Victor and his mother. These are experiences as different as between any two people of any ethnicity.

One thing that really struck me was Victor's insistence upon looking like a "real" Native. This could be seen as something negative, but from reading Tom King's college years in which he wore the bone choker and the leather satchel and feathers, it doesn't seem to be such an unusual trend. Perhaps there are a handful of young Native people that go through this phase of wanting to conform to the stereotypes of "Indians."

On the whole, I was quite impressed with the degree of authenticity (at least, based upon what I know) in Smoke Signals. I feel like I have a better understanding of the experiences of some Native Americans and look forward to finishing the film.

Native Peoples and the Role of the Anthropologist

We've been talking a lot about rhetorical sovereignty and what role it plays or should play in the imparting of Native stories and struggles. Issues of rhetorical sovereignty ask several questions. Do Native peoples have exclusive rights to their stories, identities, and struggles--to fight their own fights, in essence? Do white people as the majority have a responsibility to aid them in their struggles? Or do we have the responsibility to get the hell out of their business? Most interestingly, what is the role of the anthropologist, who must categorize an entire peoples, but also has a duty to support understanding of who those peoples really are?

I realize that I've already posted about rhetorical sovereignty, but, as I'm taking an anthropology class right now, I'm becoming interested in the unique role of the anthropologist, who must stay objective and categorize groups of people, things that can be detrimental to the advancement of a people, especially groups as heterogeneous as Native American nations.

From reading an ethnography on the !Kung people of Botswana, I have noticed that recording aspects of the lives of a group of people requires much generalization and categorization. Practices, relationships, religions, and other aspects of daily life must be generalized so as to be easily understood by outsiders. Generalization is nearly essential for understanding. At the same time, generalization limits understanding. Individuals in any group are still individuals, not homogeneous automatons who all share the same exact understanding of the world. No reasonable person would categorize a country such as the USA in this way, whose different states sometimes seem like different countries, so why should people in the US categorize others in such a generalized fashion? It's certainly easier for us, but is it helpful for the group being studied?

To have an opinion on the latter question, one must consider whether it's better to have a vague understanding of a people or no understanding at all. I would argue that at least some understanding helps, but, as an addendum to this understanding, one must be aware that this is merely a generalization, that no group is homogeneous. As long as this is understood, anthropology could be helpful for Native American nations and other marginalized or misunderstood groups.

To PC or not to PC?

The abbreviation PC stands for politically correct. As time goes on, however, and we get ten new phrases a year per minority group, PC begins to stand for problematic and confusing.

Don't get me wrong; I'm all for being politically correct. In fact, I'm usually the annoying one going around correcting everyone who calls everyone who looks moderately Asian 'Chinese.' I think that not speaking politically correctly makes one sound uneducated and closed-minded. What do we do, though, when the terms continuously change? It can be difficult to keep up. I honestly have no idea what the PC term for people under a certain height is, or what the correct terms for people with physical or mental disabilities are. As was pointed out in class today, there are preferences for terms among individuals within the groups. There is no clear-cut way to know which terms to use.

The main argument behind creating new terms for minority groups is that the old terms hold negative connotations because they were used in a derogatory manner. In response to this, new terms are created. And guess what happens to that new term--it is used negatively and gains the same negative connotation that the old term had. So we create a new term. And then the same thing happens to that term, so we have to create a new term. It's like dirtying napkins and then getting a new pile, and then another pile, and then another pile. Your hands will always be dirty no matter how many napkins you use, just as people in society will always be prejudiced no matter how many terms are used. The problem is not the term, it's the attitudes toward the people the term is used to describe.

We need to start changing our attitudes, not our terms. The fact of the matter is, there are always going to be people prejudiced against those with mental disabilities, regardless of what they're called. There are always going to be people who hate African-Americans, whether they call them Blacks, colored people, or something worse. Awareness does not come through more complicated terminology, it comes from movements and spreading truth. In my opinion, our best bet it to use race or ability or any other minority trait as a descriptor as little as possible. Most of the time, we don't need to use those kinds of descriptors anyway. But if you do have to, my advice is to just do your best with the term that seems best or to be the most current. Don't make assumptions (assuming an Asian person is from China, for example, or assuming that an Indian person practices Hinduism), and, obviously, don't use a term that is blatantly derogatory. Hopefully, we can at least avoid some awkward situations by following guidelines such as these.

Rhetorical Sovereignty, the Majority, and the Minority

Rhetorical sovereignty seems simple, and, in many senses, it is simple--it's the right of a culture to have control over their own identities and to tell their own stories. The actual achievement of this idea, however, is far more complicated, most severely for Native Americans. Native Americans have been unrelentingly silenced, ignored, and pushed out of the conversation by majority groups in the US. Trying to control their stories against all these negative forces is like trying to control one's hair in a windstorm; no matter how hard you try, it's most likely still going to get messed up.

However, they have been trying, sometimes to some avail, but most of the time to none--most of us know the stories we know, and those are the ones we're going to choose to believe about Natives.

But what about those of us in the majority who are listening? Should we have the right to spread Native stories and experiences that are not ours? Should we have the right to study them and their stories, or should we just leave them alone? This is one of the challenges in caring for and being interested in Native peoples, and certainly is the subject of many a debate. How are we to deal with these issues?

As someone who is presently studying Native Americans, I feel torn about this issue as I'm sure White Native scholars do. There are emotions involved in both sides of the debate. Some will argue that the majority group have an obligation to Native peoples to share and study Native stories and experiences in order to spread awareness. On the other hand, many Native people don't want to be categorized or studied and just want to be left alone. Paul Chaat Smith, in Everything You Know About Indians is Wrong, claimed that the dumbest people are those who are interested in Native Americans and want to study them. Accurate information about Natives is just not out in the mainstream.

While I still maintain a strong interest in the Native experience and now very much enjoy reading Native stories and experiences from Natives, I completely understand where the Natives who want exclusive rhetorical sovereignty are coming from. I know from studying gender studies that the best people to speak out for a minority group are people in that group. This is true for a few reasons. Of course it's true because people in a group care more about that group than people outside of the group do, but also because people in a minority group impart their own experiences far more effectively than people outside the group do. Perhaps one of Native peoples' reasons for wanting exclusive rhetorical sovereignty is that they know they can tell their own stories better than anyone outside the group. For the most effective social movement, accurate information is essential. Maybe that's what they're going for. Maybe I'm just saying that to make myself feel better. Regardless, our care for Native Americans shouldn't be based on caring for the sake and show of caring. It should be based on what is best for them, and what will have the move society the most toward seeing Native Americans as real people instead of ideas. And if we as the majority can't contribute to that effectively, maybe we should just leave them alone.

The Truth About Creation Stories

Creation stories: the world's cultures provide many, and the importance of these stories varies between cultures. But how do these stories impact the general attitudes of a culture? In The Truth About Stories, Tom King compares and contrasts a Native American creation story with the Judeo-Christian creation story, and examines what effects these stories may have on our respective cultures.

The main differences between the stories are how the world is created. In the Native story, animals, a woman, and two children work together equally to create the world. No man is present, interestingly enough. Conversely, in the Judeo-Christian story, one male creator (God) makes the entire Earth and puts man in charge of women, children, animals, and the environment.

King argues that these stories have major impacts on the relationships our cultures have with the earth, animals, and other humans. Most Americans would affiliate themselves with the Judeo-Christian creation story, and our culture is strictly patriarchal and patrilineal and tends to treat animals, the environment, and even other people, often, as objects and as merely means to an end. On the other hand, Native Americans tend to have great respect for the environment, animals, and fellow humans. The Judeo-Christian creation story encourages domination over others through the presence of God and binary of good and evil. It encourages the idea that some groups are better than others and that "good" must reign over "evil." This doctrine was used to justify the overtaking of cultures like various Native American tribes, based upon the idea that their differences from Americans made them the "evil."

Can we then make the claim that the Judeo-Christian creation story has negative effects on American society--that it causes violence, imperialism, cruelty to animals, and environmental destruction? It makes Americans feel as though we have the right to do what we like to other living things without consequence. I would say this is a fairly negative attitude to have, especially taking into account how much damage has been inflicted upon humans, animals, and the environment due to this attitude. What should we for future generations, then? If our stories all that we are, we should strive to make those stories, and, consequently, ourselves, the best we can. If this Native creation story has the positive effects on society that I mentioned, perhaps it makes sense to at least mix the Native stories in with the Judeo-Christian stories we tell our children. Our society just may be better for it.

Forgetting Pocahontas

Transitioning into adulthood, for me at least, has meant a wave of cynicism about many things from my childhood. Whether this is a good or a bad thing I'm not sure, and I don't really care--it's just the way it is.

Growing up means facing realities about things or people we love. That could mean not being shielded anymore from family arguments, or realizing that most of the beloved toys we played with encouraged a lifelong adherence to oppressive gender roles.

 

As for me, I loved Disney movies, and I still do. Unfortunately, part of the aforementioned cynicism has been realizing the problematic representations of different ethnic groups by Disney films. If you own a first-edition copy of Aladdin, you'll notice that, in the song, "Arabian Nights," the lyrics say, "where they cut off your ear if they don't like your face," in reference, of course, to the Middle East (the lyric has since been changed). The Jungle Book contains its own blatant approval of imperialism when the 'savage' apes sing that they want to be like the 'civilized' Mowgli. And of course, who can forget Jim Crow from Dumbo? 

Aside from Native Africans and African-Americans, the most poorly represented group in Disney are probably the Native Americans. Perhaps the worst representation is from Peter Pan, during the song, "What Makes the Red Man Red?" The song says that, long ago, Native Americans were the 'normal' color of white. One day, a girl kissed a Native American man, making him blush and turning his skin permanently red. It would be cute if it weren't so offensive. This is also a slight to other non-Whites because it implies that white is the natural color that human skin should be.

One of my favorite movies from childhood, Pocahontas, seems to be a source of contention among the Native people as well. While certain historians claim that it is relatively accurate, this Native writer begs to differ. Because I generally believe in the media's ability to royally screw up everything, I'm going to put my money on the Native writer's account.

This can be, needless to say, disappointing. How can we reconcile our love of these films with the truth not only for ourselves, but more importantly, for our children? Where does a cute story end and racial insensitivity begin? Any thoughts?