Sunday, April 25, 2010

Irie Mon: My Jamaican Lament

Jamaica, land of wood and water. A Caribbean paradise endowed with white sand beaches, and idyllic waterfalls. Come to our island, and rock slowly to reggae rhythms while strolling through the streets of our quaint resort communities. Once you go, you know.


This is probably the Jamaica you have heard of. It is a Jamaica I do not know. When I am in Jamaica, the sun oppressively bears down against my neck. The forested hills above my town have never intrigued me, and I don't intend to trek to the highest peak anytime soon. The beaches I walk by are ordinary; I can't remember the last time my half naked body was cleansed by the Caribbean Sea. Music defines my people, but it drones on in the background while I work to eke out a bare existence. Dreadlocks look cool, but here they are a way of life, a religion. Marijuana is cheap, but we do not rejoice for this; getting high is our only means of escape.

Walk through my community on any given day and you will find scores of young men and women sitting in the town square, chatting, laughing, bitching. You see 'community', we see lack of opportunity. We're here not because we want to be, but because there is nothing better to do. Our anemic economy edges along. Our career politicians seem flustered as they try to solve decade old Jamaican problems. Our society is morally depraved; it currently ranks number three on the podium of highest murder rate per capita (in the world). Sexual assault is an all too common reality that few people report. Criminals plunder and kill almost with impunity because of a failed justice system, and gang warfare often shuts down entire areas, which prevents people from getting to schools or hospitals.

This is probably not the Jamaica you have heard of. If you belong to a sexual minority, you can never live openly. Mob attacks are a common reality for people perceived as being LGBT. People are hostile to difference, because in a country of just under three million people living on an island, your reality becomes absolute. Non-conformists are easily identified, and urgently reformed. Children pray four times a day in schools, and there is no room to question religions dogma, because your teachers too are probably staunch Christians. You stop thinking, because all the answers are given to you by your superiors. Everything is black or white.

Everyone's face lights up when I introduce myself as being from Jamaica. "That's so amazing", they offer in excitement. "I'll switch places with you any day," I always think to myself. I sometimes jar their sense of reality when I say I actually dislike being from Jamaica. And that I don't have fun when I'm there, because having fun requires money that I don't have. And that I'm in America because I was running away from my island. And when they ask if I will return I bluntly say no, and they look at me as though I should somehow feel obligated to return to a country that gave me so much heartache.

For other developing countries, especially those in Sub-Saharan Africa, the media misses no opportunity to highlight the negatives that the world has used to define these countries. Jamaica has the opposite problem. The world focuses so much on our stellar athletes, our music and tourism offerings that the things that Jamaicans find unbearable never see the light of day. The idealized, romanticized view of Jamaica that people have come to know is the view people expect that I will embody. An Italian guy even suggested once that I couldn't possibly be Jamaican, because I do not speak like Jamaicans are supposed to (i.e. mixing Jamaican Creole with English).

How does a country with so many issues manage to construct an identity internationally that many envy? What is it about the Jamaican cultural product that is so appealing internationally? The video below is a music video by Bob Marley's son Damion Marley, whose song Welcome to Jamrock was a big hit in the US. But this video garnered some enemies as well because it depicted scenes that were counter to the images carefully constructed by the tourism ministry. The video clearly presents a damning counter narrative, though it is one that Jamaicans can better relate to. We complain that the media objectifies the experience of African people and construct a limited view of Africa that has now been popularized. Who though should we blame for constructing a false identity of Jamaica, the Jamaican government, which has a vested interest in projecting the best image possible, or gullible tourists who refuse to look beyond the high walls of their resort properties to see the Jamaica that most Jamaicans see?


On a slightly different note, am I Jamaican because my passport says I am? Growing up, I defined myself as everything Jamaicans were not. But as soon as I left the island and entered different societies where people were all bonded by their nationalities, I needed to use the label to help define myself in that new world. When I say I'm Jamaican it means nothing else to me except- that is where I was born. Most of my best friends hail from different countries, like different foods, and had vastly different experiences growing up. We get along amazingly well. Yet still people continue to use constructed national identities to make assumptions about how people (can) interact. We create walls that first need to be hammered away before we can see people for who they are as individuals (who admittedly are not independent of the cultural context of the place where they grew up). The same thing happens when we identify strongly with racial/ethnic differences. Me being "Jamaican" tells you very little about me. Don't assume. Ask.

Monday, April 19, 2010

In Finding Ourselves, We find Others

In every social context we are asked to fit neatly into some category only to satisfy people's assumptions about who we are, or should be (to be fair, we often give people the information they use to make assumptions about us). Peterson Toscano, a former ex-gay, knows well the effort it takes to fit neatly into boxes in which one believes they should neatly fit. In the following video, he simultaneously illustrates the fluid nature of "identity" and also the need to be true to one's self. Check out the short video below:


In the two previous posts written I examined instances when systems much larger than the individual have shaped, or tried to shape, individual identity. But today I am going to look at how our identities are constructed within a smaller framework, such as with our friends and families. Before this week I never thought such an analysis was necessary, because I always assumed that one would always be "themselves" when surrounded by familiar faces and good friends.

Ever since I came to Dartmouth I have been very critical of the Greek System. I resent that the social scene revolves around the few fraternities that spin the wheel on Webster Avenue any given weekend. I walk into frats and I immediately feel like I do not belong. The floor is wet and sticky from spilt beer falling from the cups of drunk men and women. Few people are capable of having coherent conversations with you, and even when they do they forget by morning as their short term memory is slowly wiped by their increasingly deeper state of drunkenness. You could sit and talk with your friends, but there are many other more suitable venues for having heart to heart discussions. Unless you intend to play pong, which I consider a most vile attempt to entertain one's self in rural New Hampshire, there isn't much to do for entertainment in a frat (I'll pretend the hook-up scene doesn't exist).

A few months ago, none of my close friends were members of fraternities or sororities. We all agreed that even though many Dartmouth students find much to be lacking in the greek system, most of us give up the fight and end up joining a house anyway. It's something to do, and if you have friends in these houses then it makes sense to join the brotherhood/sisterhood.

One of my best friends joined a sorority this Winter. She never mentioned this until a few weeks ago, and at first I was dumbstruck by her revelation. We had talked about this. She held the greek system and its superficial relationships in contempt. How could she go back on her word? Was she just selling out like everybody else? What happened to the anti-establishment, anti-assimilationist friend I had before? How could she just change like that on something that seemed so fundamental to who she was.

But then as time went on I started to understand some of the reasons why she might have decided to join a sorority, and in time I too had convinced myself that perhaps it could be a worthwhile endeavour, despite my grouses. You see, I am very critical of fraternities as social spaces for everyone on campus, but I have no perspective from which to judge the value of fraternities once one is a member. A majority of Dartmouth students join them, and they seem to align themselves to their houses rather faithfully. Am I missing out?

This week I shared with another of my close friends that I was thinking of joining a fraternity. Her reaction mirrored my own when I learnt that my friend had joined a sorority, but this time I was the one being judged. I wasn't hurt, because I understood well her reaction. But I was moved in unexpected ways. I wondered if people are willing to restrict themselves so as not to have uncomfortable conversations such as this one with their friends?

It appears that once you have established a certain tone and type of discourse with an individual who grows to relate to you in a particular regard, it is extremely difficult to change "who you are". Any change on the individual's part will be judged as a symptom of fickle-mindedness, and uncertainty about one's self. So then it's not just society that sets standards that we feel compelled to follow. Our beloved friends and families do the same. While we reject the box offered by society for us to neatly fit into, we complicity place ourselves in perhaps tighter cartons in order to placate our friends, who we depend on more heavily than society in general. Isn't this one of the reasons why the coming out process is so difficult for LGBT people? All your life the people closest to you made assumptions about who you loved, or could love and what your future would be live, but then you are forced to reveal to them that their entire conception of your sexual self (or gender identity) must change. People fear coming out for many other reasons, and people react badly for many others too, but still. 

At the end of the video above Peterson tells us that the people who are most powerful are those that are not afraid to be themselves. But what does this even mean when being one's self changes from place to place and with each person the individual interacts with. Context heavily influences how one chooses to represent themselves, and how people perceive the individual. Perhaps one can only be true to themselves by recognizing the reality that they perform different roles as necessary, instead of trying to achieve some idyllic sense of self wherein one's character remains static for the remainder of their lives, in all contexts. That I believe would be an elusive search for a truth we have constructed. 

Sunday, April 11, 2010

The Arab Woman...

... waiting to be saved by Western pity. While in France for three months I had numerous conversation with French women about their regard for Arab culture, and muslim-hijab-wearing women who can be observed in major cities all across the (supposedly) secular country. Interestingly, these french women often had very terse words of reproach for the perceived oppression these women endure. My host mother expressed pity for these women who weren't aware of the joys to be had from living in a free and equal society. She told me she fears women who wear burqas, and even after sharing with her the story of a divorced french woman who chooses to wear the burqa she told me she wasn't convinced that people could choose to wear a garment that embodied female oppression. The university I attended  is located in one of the poorest areas on the outskirts of Toulouse and is populated by immigrant communities. Leaving the center of the city and heading to the university one could notice the change in demographics on the metro.

I remember many things from my travels in France, but the image that was most deeply burnt into my imagination was that of an arab-hijab- wearing woman in the Paris metro. She sat with her legs crossed, and her head bent lowly towards the ground. I couldn't see her face, so I stared at her frail outstretched right hand, which motioned vigorously at passing commuters. Here was a woman, universally regarded as oppressed, forced to assume a most submissive position because her society does not provide her with the means to become economically independent. The French conception of the marginalized arab woman is perpetuated by the arab woman herself. I recently came across the film Hijab: An Act of Faith, which actively debunks many of the assumptions one would make about Arab women, given the limited stories that we are told about their lives. I have included a 10 minute segment from the documentary in this post.


Western media houses regularly highlight stories of arab women living without rights. We are all acutely aware of the apparent patriarchal structures which are deeply rooted in Middle-Eastern societies. The metanarrative of Arab women experiences is set and any story which helps to legitimize this narrative is highlighted. On April 9 CNN released a sensational news piece about a Yemeni child bride who dies of internal bleeding following intercourse three days after she was married off to an older man. The report told us that the man is at least twice her age.
Elham Mahdi was only 12 years old. In September, another Yemeni girl who was forced into marriage died in childbirth. Her baby also died. Fawziya Ammodi was in labor for three days before she died of severe bleeding. In Yemen one in three girls is married before the age of 18. Most are married off to older men with more than one wife. For the girl's parents, marriage means the daughters are no longer a financial or moral burden. Most times, parents get a promise from the husband to wait until the girl is older to consummate the marriage.
We love stories like these! They affirm everything we ever thought was true about the experiences of women in (backward) Arab societies. The stories of Elham and Fawziya are not new to me. The names may be different but this particular storyline is often employed in Western media. The story is an important one that needs to be told, but it is not the only story about women in Yemen.

Three years ago I was fortunate enough to meet an inspirational young woman from Yemen. Unmistakably intelligent, and unapologetically Muslim, Esra'a Shdaifat* now attends a liberal arts college in Massachusetts, where she often butts heads with American women who pity her for something she declares to be her greatest strength. I had the opportunity to talk with Esra'a and ask her some questions about her experiences in Yemen.

ManIden: Hello Esra'a, thanks for joining me. Yemen is commonly regarded as one of the most conservative countries in the Middle East. Do you think the status of women has improved in your lifetime, or will improve in the future?

Esra'a: Hmmm, unfortunately no, not at all. There are still many women who experience all the kinds of violence and discrimination that we find in the media, everyday. I hear so many stories about girls forced into adulthoods by being married off to men more than three times their ages. When I was in high school almost half of my class was already engaged, some of them were forced to do so, but others had chosen. Also, until now fathers don’t allow their daughters to attend university after finishing high school. I have two friends who chose to get married just for the fact that they knew there is no hope of going to university. Adding to that Jaja, women are not allowed to work in yemen, their only jobs are to produce tons of kids and please their husbands. I guess there wont be any great improvement, because you can’t easily change a man's mentality. I mean, this is how men grew up and this is their culture, as it is for the women. However, not all families are the same and not all the men are the same, but I would say that the majority still perceives women as subservient to men.

ManIden: Wow. So you are suggesting that the subordination of women in Yemeni society is so deeply entrenched that it will be extremely difficult to ever achieve equality of the kind demanded in Western societies? Whether or no tyou think this is an acceptable reality is a different conversation. Everyday we see images and read stories about oppressed, abused Arab women. For this reason people in the West often feel pity for you when they meet you. How does this make you feel? And more broadly how do you feel as a woman from Yemen?

Esra'a: To be honest, I don’t feel comfortable when people generalize about situations of oppressed women and apply them to every women they see from the Middle East. People especially here Jaja think that I am an oppressed young lady, and that’s because I am wearing a head scrarf and and because I am from Yemen. Some people ask me stupid questions, such as, "are you gonna choose your husband?" Or, "Is it true that men are allowed to beat their wives in your culture?" And the questions go on and on. Sometimes they force me to feel ashamed of being from Yemen, and I hate this feeling so much.

How do I feel as woman from Yemen? Hmmm, since I have never been actively 'oppressed' in my life and I have never experienced what other women in my country have been through, I don’t have special feeling like hate for example. But I do still feel that I am not as equal as others, that there are still restrictions on me and I do still feel that I can’t do all the things that I want.

ManIden: Esra'a I understand it must be burdensome to carry the weight of an entire nation on your shoulders, but understand that these people have only been exposed to a very limited view of your people and your country, froma very particular perspective. Don't hesitate to talk to them and share your perspective. And don't hesitate to tell them that you do not need their pity. If you could say one thing to an American audience to educate them about the status of women in Yemen what would you say?

Esra'a: I would ask of people here to be more critical thinkers. Yemen is the poorest country in the Arab world. Many fathers engage their daughters in early marriage, just because they can't afford their living expenses. So people here need to stop judging the culture or the religion and look more deeply at all the factors that perpetuate the reality.

*****
I do not seek to obscure facts, or reality, but to deconstruct the reductionist Western narrative that renders Middle Eastern women voiceless, helpless and without agency. Women's rights movements in the West followed trajectories by which all other societies are now judged, in disregard for the historical and socio-cultural realities that shape gender relations and provide the basis upon which we must begin to discuss 'women's rights' for women in the Middle East. Inaction is not a viable response, but neither are narrow-minded judgements made from the point of view that our way is right and theirs is wrong. I think it is important for us to speak with women like Esra'a whose personal experiences can colour and sweeten our analyses and opinions of her society and culture.


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*Name has been changed.

Many thanks to Esra'a for agreeing to share her stories.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Ricky Martin is (Now) Gay: The Politics of Assuming a Stigmatized Identity

After over a decade of speculation around his sexuality Ricky Martin, a celebrated Puerto Rican performer, described himself as "a fortunate homosexual man" in a post on his website. Reactions from some LGBT Americans, as gauged by their comments on reports made by the preeminent LGBT news blog Advocate.com, have been mixed. Opinions range from congratulatory notes to more vitriolic rants about Ricky's apparently coward attempt to conceal his sexual orientation at a time when gay people were making real strides in gaining acceptance in mainstream America while building his career.

Being gay is not like being African-American or Chinese-American in the sense that no one knows that you are gay (well, let's just assume for argument's sake) unless you tell them. At the height of the Black civil rights movement the individual was made aware of their stigmatized status at a very young age and more or less had ample time to come to terms with it within a community. On the other hand, there isn't always a community to fall back on when one decides to identify as gay. The process of coming to terms with this new identity is often a challenging one, made all the more difficult when one's life could be adversely affected if they publicly identity as "gay". This is most evident for celebrities who realistically perceive that it is possible to lose their careers if they come out.

I find identity markers of race and sexuality problematic. I understand well that assuming a stigmatized identity and fighting against an apathetic and sometimes antagonistic majority as a community is important. However, when do societies become tolerant enough that assuming a minority identity, and going to any length to prove that difference is not a bad thing is no longer relevant? "Black" people are different from "White" people, but not in a way that I consider relevant when considering the abilities of an individual and the potential to interact with them on a level plane. Overall, we are not that different. However, after convincing ourselves that we are different for generations in order to present an organized front against white supremacy can a Black person ever return to just being another individual?

On April 2, the Advocate published "Five Tasks for Ricky Now That He's Out." I'll mention the four that are relevant to my argument.

2: Expand the Focus of the Ricky Martin Foundation to focus on fighting for the rights of gay youths around the world.
3: Sit down with Oprah and give the world a glimpse at what an intelligent, successful gay father looks like.
4: Give a Speech or Two About Gay Rights
5: Make a Sexy Music Video ... With a Man
Why should Ricky have to reframe his life and redirect his personal efforts now that he has confirmed longtime suspicions that he is gay? While it is true that he may have suppressed his desire to participate more extensively in LGBT causes so as not to inflame speculations, it could also be that his passions lie elsewhere. It is irrefutable that celebrities are in a position to influence public perceptions of LGBT people, but not everyone is comfortable becoming an activist and no once should be forced to be one. If Ricky Martin chooses to continue without change it doesn't mean he is a coward and it shouldn't mean that he shirking responsibilities as a "gay" celebrity. The man hasn't been publicly out for a week and yet we are already chiming in about how we think he should be living his (new) life. The media, which now includes the common man as people are able to voice their opinions freely through blogs and comment threads found on the websites of established news sources is actively critiquing his decision to come out, therefore making his sexuality a much larger issue than it needs to be (after all, we claim me always knew anyway).

If I don't speak Ebonics and I find it easy to make friends with "White" people I must be trying to be "White. If I am gay but I don't fit many gay stereotypes it must be that I am hiding my inner queen. If Ricky Martin is going to be openly gay he must use his fame for the advancement of LGBT rights in America and Latin America because it is his duty as a gay celebrity. I disagree.

How can we ever claim to have control of our identities when there are always people telling us how we should be living in order to fit some pre-designed model of how to (truly) be a part of any given community? Who will send the memo when it is no longer necessary to come out as gay and evolve into an identifiable gay person who people can learn to accept despite their apparent difference? When an individual belongs to more than one minority identities why do we still expect them to identify strongly with one?

It'll be interesting to see how his career develops from now on, and how the media chooses to portray him now that he has formally joined the growing list of out gay and lesbian celebrities.

At the end of the day we all have some agency to decide how we want to identify ourselves. Nevertheless, society makes a valiant effort to put us into boxes into which we do not all neatly fit.

"Do you think this man is gay?"