#is there really such a big height difference between asian women and american white women? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-did · 4 years

Note

wait id love to hear your rant about how fanon deals with the race in tfc fics/fanon's of everyone else’s race :0

I would like to start this response with the fact that I do not believe anyone is being intentionally harmful in their race head cannons, simply that people tend to follow Fanon blindly and I believe people should not do that, and remember Fanon is only Fanon and we should make our own ideas and stray from the pack more often.

Okay, my thoughts on common race headcanons for the foxes and how they are often accidentally racist:

I know @bloodydamnit has spoken up about this before, but people specifically portraying Seth as black falls into a lot of unhealthy anti-black stereotypes of black men, especially the lack of development people tend to give him. She has written him and deconstructed these issues from her perspective and me a non-black person don’t think I could ever achieve such a thing and therefore do not headcanon him or will write him as black.

I personally headcanon him as hard Vietnamese and half white and made a long post about him before, I love Seth.

Matt and Dan are also often written as black, this isn’t inherently problematic necessarily, but it does often overlook the issue that people see this likely because of Matt’s history with drugs and Dan’s sex work playing into anti-black stereotypes without a tally going into race theory or redlining or any of the following issues in a way that gives them any development.

I like to headcanon Matt as Filipino, his straight hair is perfect for spiking, and dan as 75% black and 25% Oceti Sakowin (commonly known as Sioux), I want to write about how her leaving the reservation was a big deal for her, especially at the 25% mark which means if she is with anyone who isn’t of the same tribe her kids would not be considered a part of the tribe since the US minimum to register is 25% and this was part of her hesitance to be with Matt as well as other pressures. I like to think the baby her aunt had in the EC she ends up adopting from the foster system and that baby is 75% Oceti Sakowin and Matt is super excited to learn about their traditions and bring in both indigenous Filipino culture that he got disconnected with as well as Oceti Sakowin culture that she got disconnected with into their lives with their unexpected kid.

Renee is often headcanoned as Asian, but typically just generally Asian without nuance or explanation and also this plays into the passivity stereotype of Asian women. I headcanon her has African American, with very dark skin and Stephanie Walker was the first black foster mom she had and they hit it off really well, also Renees hair is a wig, no one can bleach their hair to white that’s just… it melts before it does that usually.

Again I’m not saying Renee can’t be Asian, It can be done right and written well, but overall I think it’s important for people to remember why they headcanon things and not accept Fanon blindly. Fanon often plays into harmful ideas. While people of color don’t have to have a reason for being people of color, I think it’s important to notice why you think charters who aren’t described at all are whatever race you headcanon and think critically. Our cultures and races make us experience the world in a certain way that contributes to who we are outside of blanket diversity, and it is important to think about that.

I often see people saying they headcanon Womack as Native American to make him having the tribal tattoos “unracist”, and to make Nora not racist, but Nora wasn’t being racist by saying Womack has tribal tattoos, Womack having shitty Tates in tattoos, which faux tribal was a huge cultural staple despite how cringe it is from the 90’s to mid 2000’s in America. It’s important also to not just say Native American but to do research on specific groups because each culture is unique and different.

That being said, I bounce back between Wymack just being some 70’s looking dad with cut off shorts to Maori where the swirl tattoos are very significant, and Kevin is white-passing but discovered he’s not white like he thought he was, and becomes an AOA history major (Africa, Oceana, Americas, aka indigenous history major).

Also considering Neil and Allison are supposed to be significantly attractive I don’t like them being white because of that, so I headcanon Allison as half middle eastern, (or maybe Indian I have more research to do before I decide), she was told she was adopted as a kid and often her mom would buy her whitening cremes like fair and lovely as a kid, but later found some papers when she was older finding out her dad actually got a woman pregnant and to keep her quiet took Allison and pretended he was such a good philanthropist and adopted a brown kid. She has a lot of problems with this, and bleaches her hair blond to try and fit in with her family without even realizing it. She never finds out who her birth mom is

I am a bit annoyed at white fans constantly calling Nora racist, while also using the lightest skinned headcanons every time for black characters playing into colorism and Spanish Nickys instead of darker toned people. Also, I think people should really try to critically think about their own ideas before calling out someone else. Do I think Nora is perfectly woke? No, no one is, but Fanon is just as bad but in a different way. There is a lot of colorism I see in both headcanon photos people use for the foxes as well as people tending to draw looser curls and thinner noses for characters they headcanon as black. Not every black person is half white and darker-skinned rep is very important. I’ve also seen people use Reece king as a Nicky face claim before and I wasn’t even surprised.

I've also seen people almost always have Erik be “Aryan” some even using the word to describe him unironically, and as a Jewish person this obviously doesn’t sit right with me. I would like to see less straight passing blond haired blue eyed taller than Nicky Erik sometimes.

Again I’m not calling anyone racist, I just think that people should go outside Fanon and think of their own ideas on who they want the characters to be in their headcanons and why. I'm tiers of the same 4 Instagram model photos being used for every Aftg edit, the same light-skinned Dan’s, Matt’s, and Nicky’s. Also while I’m at it, add some body diversity, they’re athletes all playing different positions, I think all the defense players are at least chubby if not plus size. Aaron, Andrew, and Renee are all fat and proud, Nicky and Matt are bulkier with their bodies good for blocking, while Seth is an awkward string bean, an offensive striker who can slip through people quickly despite his height.

Again I know discussions about race can be tense, I am not trying to sound like I am attacking anybody, and I'm not calling out anyone in particular, I didn't even touch on how nicky is written in fanon or canon and how it can often be both racist and homophobic coming from my prospective as a gay latino.

Okay I'm tired sorry this took me so long to respond lol

#aftg #all for the game #fandom politics #tfc #the foxhole court #ask #mailob

74 notes · View notes

1dandjbnews · 5 years

Text

A weird new transphobic fetish is on the rise and BTS, One Direction and Justin Bieber have been some of it’s targets!

TW// Transphobia.

“Transvestigations” is a new trend among various “truth seeking” Christian individuals mainly on YouTube and BTS, One Direction and Justin Bieber have all been “transvestigated”.

The videos consist of someone searching up various pictures of celebrities like an obsessed stalker would do to their poor crush and scrutinizing the celebrity with “forensic evidence” of them being male or female such as their ring and index fingers, their skull shape and body shape and “feminine”/”masculine” features. While all these would be used to tell a biological female or male apart, they don’t really work with people who are naturally born androgynous.

Some of these videos have been deleted off of YouTube and the uploaders of these videos begin to play the victim “OH NO, YOUTUBE HATES CHRISTIANS AND GOD!”, no, they just don’t want hateful creeps with weird fetishes on their site.

In the video titled “Justin Bieber is a WOMAN - Irrefutable PROOF!” two robot-sounding Catholic cult members (yep, they’re in a crazy Catholic cult, see here, now, you’d have though Catholics would steer clear of calling people “perverted” and “immoral”, when we all know the story with their “pure” churches and priests...), anyway, back onto the topic at hand, these robot-sounding Catholic cult members scrutinize Justin’s appearance and body with their “forensic evidence” of Justin being a female, here’s their evidence that I have personally refuted myself.

1. “Length of females’ ring finger tends to be shorter than the index finger.” Looking at pictures, Justin’s ring finger is LONGER than his index finger. Also, what does that matter?

2. “Bieber’s high-pitched voice.” – This is the most stupidest claim ever. The reason for his “high pitched voice” is due to his late start to puberty, you know it’s called being a “late bloomer”.

3. “Bieber’s lack of facial and body hair.” – Again, late start to puberty, plus not everyone has to look like some un-evolved neanderthal ape man… Justin has grown a mustache many times and has visible facial hair and has done since he was 15.

4. “Bieber’s small feet for “his” height” – Justin is actually between 5’7 and 5’9 and his shoe size is 9 (US), (Same size as 1D’s Louis Tomlinson and Niall Horan who are probably the same height as Justin).

5. “Bieber’s small wrists and hands”. (Another ridiculous claim!) Not everyone has big hands… Louis Tomlinson has “small wrists and hands”.

Also, interviewer’s slip-ups and an internet meme started by middle-aged men riddled with fragile masculinity isn’t proof, it’s just pure stupidity.

In the videos titled “(insert celebrity name here) Transvestigation” (which have now been deleted), the man who uploaded them seems to be riddled with fragile masculinity and often bashes the celebrities like an immature child “THESE DUDES LOOK LIKE WOMEN! THEY’RE RUINING ‘MURICA!” (No, you have these celebrities confused with Trump and the backwards creeps who have a persecution complex and are stuck in the days of racism), anyway it seems the uploader of the video was quite delusional and very bigoted, not surprising.

The “Transvestigation - Kim Seokjin” video is another video that is now removed too and it’s riddled with a close-minded lady who seems to be wasting her life on crazy nonsense, rather than doing something productive.

Now, the two videos at the bottom, attacking BTS, they uploader seems to be a bit cocky and very immature, writing in the description “This video is not bashing BTS! Many of their fans around the world are being led to believe their artists are caring individuals who produce good music for the masses to hear! The truth is the complete opposite!“ in one and “NOTE: I would love to see BTS fans prove me wrong, these are definitely women! Stop worshiping these losers!”. As if he’s “not bashing BTS”, he is, he’s sitting in his mom’s basement trashing a Korean group for no logical reason and his words in the other video’s description are a lie too, all you need is to be open-minded and not racist in order to prove him wrong.

I wouldn’t be surprised if these videos were brought on by racism and the whole emasculation of Asian men, which is often done by white American men.

But it gets creepier, the uploader of the videos has quite a few sock puppet accounts (these two videos are on two different accounts) and their names are based on various superheroes.

On his Batman account, he has uploaded a very disturbing video of Lil Tay, I don’t think he realizes how creepy that is and the comments seem to be riddled with creeps too!

There are a few other accounts that partake in transvestigations, but I’ve listed the major culprits here and I am honestly too creeped out to post any more.

To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a fetish after all!

-Story by Severus.

2 notes · View notes

pistageglace · 5 years

Text

Horizon Zero Dawn

I'm playing Horizon Zero Dawn right now and this is one of the best games I've played. And this is completely spoiler-free. What's sad is that when the game came out I decided not to play it because I read online that the game appropriated from Native American cultures. Now I can say that the Nora tribe in the game have Native American, Celtic and Viking influences like the game makers have said in an interview. I can also point out every last thing they've taken from Native Americans: The Nora call their hunters/warriors "Braves" which the game makers have also said in an interview they picked specifically because they thought it would be inoffensive. There are dream catchers in a few places, which are non-interactable and not explained. They wear brown leather and use bows. There's a lot of blue accent on brown going on but that's mostly on the bridges. I think the protaganist Aloy has feathers attached to her bow and spear But that's everything. There are also a lot of white characters with matted hair. I also read that there would be offensive feather headdresses in this game but there are NO such things! What could have been confused with this is that the Carja tribe, who are inspired by Egypt, Rome and Greece, have those helmets with the red fluff on top of them, you know the ones. And the Banuk's shamans, who seem to be inspired by Inuits, have headdresses with colored fabric bands hanging down to their knees.

But this game makes such an obviously conscious effort to be diverse and feminist. The Nora are a matriarchy. And while I don't believe a matriarchy is the goal of feminism, it's clear the game makers intended for this to be feminist. Like how the Nora men are not subjugated, but with the Carja and Oseram tribes which are patriarchies, the women Aloy meets will tell her all about how they are second-class citizens. There are also at least two moments I can think of. One where Aloy is talking to two Carja soldiers and one of them says "I was going to report to a Nora commander, but I didn't see one" His superior snaps at him and screams "Have you never seen a Nora woman before! Show some respect! Report to her, not to me!" Not that Aloy becomes a commander, but you get it. And another where Aloy is talking to an Oseram quest-giver and he says something like "You could afford garments more suited to your fine shapes-" Aloy cuts him off and says "If you want me to do this, you need to stop talking now." He says "I was just saying, a woman as well molded as-" Aloy cuts him off again with a sigh and a shrug. But it's not a sigh like she gives up, it's a sigh with a look that says "No, you can't say that either". And because it needs to be said, Aloy is an eighteen-year-old woman who is not sexualised in any way, shape or form. There is no sexualised armour, not even dlc. There are three armours that show her belly, and one that shows off her legs as well. And those are still not sexualised.

As for diversity, they have a good mix of white, asian and african-american characters, with some middle eastern characters thrown in there. I think the best example of why this was a conscious decision by the game makers is that the three High Matriarchs of the Nora is one white, one black and one asian one. There was also concern about how the game uses the word "savages" to describe the Nora because they have influence from Native Americans. That word is only used by snobby, xenophobic Carja. They make a big deal about how xenophobic some Carja are to mirror a certain modern political situation. And by the Oseram quest-giver above to joke about how politically incorrect he is. NEVER have I felt like the game was calling Native Americans "savages". Although I understand that it's not that simple. A future America with no native people around is troublesome no matter how you look at it.

The game is set in Colorado and Utah in a post-apocalyptic future where humanity has had to start over from scratch. The Nora are hunter-gatherers for example. Humanity has no understanding of technology anymore, as it belongs to the ancient world. There are machine dinosaurs and animals that roam the wilds and attack humans for reasons no one knows. You play as Aloy who grew up as an outcast to the Nora for reasons no one will tell her. Her goal is to win the Proving so she will be granted a boon from the matriarchs and ask them who her mother is.

It's an open-world, Action-RPG. I usually dread combat in video games because it's usually just button mashing against an OP enemy or throwing you into combat out of nowhere and not letting you flee like it's an arbitrary task that needs to be done. But in this game I spend like 5-10 minutes in combat because it's so much fun. Here's the thing: it's not really combat, it's hunting. Now, I despise hunting as well. But you hunt machines, and they make it fun because there are so many different ways to do it! You hide in the tall grass, which makes you literally invisable. You can lure the machines closer by whistling or throwing a small rock. You can shoot them with an arrow, a fire arrow, a precision arrow, a freeze arrow, a shock arrow, a freeze bomb, a shock bomb or an explosive bomb. You can tie them up, you can set traps, and you can set up tripwires which either explode or shock them. You can also shoot tearblast arrows which removes part of a machine when aimed right. Like a freeze cannister to stop it from using ranged freeze attacks. When a machine gets close enough to you whithout noticing you, you can use Silent Strike to down it without the other machines even noticing. If a machine notices you and attacks you, you can just button mash with your spear on R1 and R2. And that's not even all of the different ways you can take down machines! You can kill animals and humans too, and it hurts my soul, but it's mostly aviodable. There are some quests that require it though.

For example, let's say you crouch down and hide in the tall grass. You shoot an arrow just right to take down a weaker machine. This catches the attention of a medium strong machine, and that machine starts looking for you. But it still can't see you so you shoot out some Blast Wires without leaving your hiding spot and whistle to make it come towards you. The Blast Wires do some damage and it stops to look around but it still can't see you so it keeps moving closer and then you use Silent Strike.

The game has a realistic animation style and it is absolutely, breathtakingly, gorgeous. It won some awards for that. I got the Complete Edition which gives you the art book and it is equally gorgeous. I have a love-hate relationship with this one aspect though, the game shifts between sunny, pouring rain and light snowfall. It also shifts between daytime and nighttime. This makes the game world feel so much more real but it makes it way more challenging to hunt during the night or even just find your way around a settlement. But it's probably supposed to make it more challenging. You can't see the beautiful game world during the night though which is a shame.

This is also the most mature video game I have played. "Mature" video games usually fall into one of two categories: blood and tits or edgy youtube video essay. But Horizon Zero Dawn is actually mature. There are no sexualised female characters, there are no sex jokes, there's no blood, there's no gore, there's no edgyness... And Aloy is not the Choosen One who will rise to become more powerful and inexplicably influential than the mere commoners. I mean, she is the Choosen One and some characters have heard of her skills but most people just treat her like any other hunter. Good, but not the best. The game also gets pretty real in some parts, like, realistic in a serious way. It also showed me one of the best, most lovingly crafted, realistic things I have seen in a video game: NPCs with idle shifting-from-side-to-side-with-your-arms-crossed-at-a-party animation.

TL;DR: Horizon Zero Dawn is fun, beautiful, feminist, diverse and the height of appropriation is dream catchers and using the word "braves".

Horizon Zero Dawn and Horizon Zero Dawn Complete Edition are on sale on PlayStation Store until the 19th of January!

#i ended up writing a whole review

2 notes · View notes

mytherapistthinksiamfunny · 4 years

Text

Remember The Titans and Black Lives Matter

I learned American History from Hollywood films and pop culture during the Bush Administration.

My 6th grade teacher was horrified to see my potential wasting away on the frivolity of Based on True Event sport blockbusters and Remakes of Dystopian Nightmares, Sarcastic Teeny Bop Melodramas.

Or, worse, the Hippy Dippy Nonsense genres that encouraged the youth to remain ignorant Sheeple With A Death Wish like Jackass or Gossip Girl

Despite how that sounds, he wasn’t a condescending prick. He was a good man with very high standards for media that he came off as a snob. Because he was. A snob. With so much nerd rage. That’s what made us bond.

You see, I’m a snob too. I had to be. I am the daughter of immigrants. And I grew up during the Bush Administration.

I grew up during a time of Prop 187, El Nino, El Morro, Thalia Y Tomy Motola y el secuestro, Pasale Paisano, anti-Cuba sentiment, Fake News, Columbine, Hanging Chads, 9/11/01, Pseudo-Fascism, WMDs, Jingoism, Patriot Acts, They’re Gonna Follow Us Home, Shakira, Katrina, George W Bush Hates White People Kanye Scandal, Militia, NRA Guantanamo, Dixie Chicks, A Day Without A Mexican, Selena the Movie, El CHupacabra, End of the American Dream, Once In A Lifetime Breaking News TRL Britney Once In A Lifetime Civil Unrest Breaking News Breaking News Narco Corridos Breaking News Miramax Breaking News Anthrax Breaking News Marylin Manson, Las Hijas De Juarez, Eugenio Derbez, La Escuelita, Los Tigeres Del Norte, Los Tucanes De Tijuana, Napster, Metallica Some Kind of Monster, Bono, Apple, Pixar, MySpace, AIM, new tech every 6 months, cell phones, Reggeaton, Walter Mercado Primer Impacto, American Idol,

To boot, I am the daughter of immigrants. Who were hyper-Catholic. And narcissists. And abusive. And alcoholics. Who were allergic to stability, progress, open-mindedness, or anything conducive to raising children in a global crisis.

So I had to be selective about the media that I consumed. Because my mother was a Batman Villain, my paternal-figure was a reluctant father unwilling to abandon his fuckboi ways for his family, and my brother and I were left to our own devices to figure out how to raise ourselves and our parents. We sucked at it. And years later we are paying for trying.

So, while navigating the highs and lows of our own puberty-induced hormonal roller coaster, we had to think quick and raise our 2nd-adolescence shit show of a parental unit.

We were parentalized. I didn’t know it at the time, but that is what happened to us.

What I did know at the time is that I needed to figure out how to live. Come up with a division of labor within the family unit and ensure that everyone played their role. You know, like the mother typically does.

And in order to play my role, I had to be studious of this different culture. Not just American culture. Not just teen culture. Not just Mexican culture. But all of them. Somehow, I had to find a way to navigate life. Since the age of 9 years old.

It’s exhausting having to be the adult of the house. I did not have a chance to be a child. Or matter to anyone. So I learned to matter to myself.

I learned not to trust anyone to be part of my support system because the people who were supposed to show me what that looked like were emotionally unavailable. And they stubbornly refused to divorce because that would mean they had failed their culture and religion and would be ostracized from the communities made of individuals they hated but stubbornly worked to impress and fit into.

And that meant that I befriended a strange array of really awesome people who made me feel seen and heard and understood. Like this Santa Clause-looking white dude with a motorcycle fetish and a kind touch with prepubescent girls with culture shock and daddy issues. Best of all, he was genuine. And sweet. And not at all inappropriate with children. That’s not sarcasm. He was not inappropriate with me or anyone else that I knew of. He truly was a great teacher.

Which is why I tried to keep in touch with him long after 6th grade. He was a computer nerd and introduced me to the wonder of the internet. And internet humor. And being opinionated. He was my Big Guy Bow Tie.

His opinion meant so much to me and I wanted to please him so badly.

And not once did he cross a line that would make it harder for me to thrive and move past the other trauma I was being exposed to.

How sad that I feel compelled to reiterated that he never diddled me. Sad for his reputation and sad that I have come to terms with how vulnerable I was to predators.

He was a real one.

I knew that my feelings were not normal in the broader sense of the word. But I understood that it was all I had to work with and make magic with it. So I figured out that I would have to be very guarded and selective with my time, effort, and social circle. Which often meant I was the smart young adult in a group of what I thought were sophisticated adults but were really ghost of my future if I did not get past my daddy issues in a healthy way.

By the time I got to high school, I was the weird kid

I had no idea how I got there. But I had to figure out how to follow my passion without wasting my potential.

My passion is art. Specifically, music. But in general? Art. Books, Poetry. Knowledge.

And because that wasn’t complicated enough: I was discovering my own sexuality.

And the first born first generation Mexican American with hyper Catholic parents.

I may as well have come out as a supporter of the Axis of Evil

They would never understand that I was ACTUALLY part of the Axis of Awesome

They would not understand. It would be lost in translation

So I had to learn to be silent with my truth. Forever hiding in the shadows and wondering when my life might begin

It began when I learned that the library was my escape. That I could learn about anything I wanted with very basic tools and that my ingenuity would get me far

But what does any of this have to do with Remember The Titans? Or Black Lives Matter?

Well... everything.

Because in addition to my parents being old fashioned and abusive, they were also closet racists. I had to teach myself not to ingrain their prejudices as I trusted them to keep me alive. I had to walk a very fine line between Daddy’s Girl and Daddy Issues. A fine line between Mommy’s Little Princess and Mother Knows Best and No The Fuck You Don’t.

And I managed to do that with the renaissance of black content creators in the early 2000s. Remember the Titans was a favorite of mine.

Little did I know

I was teaching myself to experience different cultures without appropriating them. I found what I was into and I immersed myself in it.

But I hid it. I silenced my opinions and tried to keep the peace. For the sake of my family.

That did not work. Shocking.

But I was left with the realization that even though my effort was wasted with my nuclear war of a family, I learned valuable lessons that I taught myself. Including that Black Lives Matter, anyone who has trouble acknowledging that needs to grow the fuck up and learn something cause we’re running out of time and ain’t nobody got time for ignorance an fear with a mad man in the white house.

And I don’t want to miss out on my life simply because I come from dysfunction and am constantly playing catch-up to understand what normal is and how to achieve it

I am not alone in this. I come from a generation of American children who learned to cope with complex issues of race, politics, satire, drugs, over-medication. self-medication, financial irresponsibility, weaponized faith and ignorance. It was the dawn of the age of the Basket of Deplorables. And Millenials were caught in the crossfire. I was caught. And I learned. Black. Lives. Matter. Women have voices and opinions that matter and a feminine point of view is crucial to the success of any business endeavor. I taught myself feminism and committed to its intersectionality before I knew it may be a word the dictionary I owned was missing. I learned that words matter because language has power. I tasted the crispness of that juicy apple from the tree of knowledge. And I wanted to marinate in its juices until i was good and goddamn ready to be tasted and known myself.

Oh yeah, I learned my Daddy Issues manifest themselves in a need to sexually please emotionally unavailable men.

So I chose as wisely as I could. You know, what with the inmates running the asylum

But my god am I into drummers! And linebackers! And Cheating Ass Marine Motherfuckers With Secret Families in Portland who Ghost a Bitch Just When She’s About to Fall!!!

My picker is off. I learned that phrase from Loveline. Another resource in my quest to exist in my natural state

Having to twist myself into a pretzel to please the un-pleasable was unsuccessful.

So I stopped and focused on my real family. My chosen family. Those who care if I live, die, have food and rent money, and ask me to text them when I get home so they know I am safe. Those people. My people. I go hard for them. And they are various heights, weight-classes, political affiliations, complexions. because I learned that black lives matter. As well as Asian American Lives. And Migrant Lives. And Femme Lives. And LGBTQIA+ Lives. In essence, ALL LIVES MATTER INCLUDING BLACK LIVES. Because life is too hard in it’s natural state to be excluding people from We The People. Because the America I Still Believe in does not allow for any of this maga shit to stand

Because we need to be allies for each other against the real danger to this country.

Internalized Systemic Racism and how it has been exploited to separate the working classes in a strict divide down socio-economic boundaries that are not easily crossable. This phenomenon is often called a glass ceiling. Minorities are particularly affected. But that doesn’t mean that all white people are to blame or responsible or immune. You see, I’ve read the Handmaid’s Tale.

And while everyone is looking at the Scarlet Robe of the Handmaids and the Serene Teal of the Wives, no one looks at the EconoWives. Wife Trash, I suppose.

Much like the Titans’ football season. High school seniors in a recently-desegregated town. Sounds like the plot of a Disney movie or a Based On True Events TV movie

Gee... I can’t imagine why I related to this...

But I did and I learned from it. I learned that it takes effort to make a champion. And it is not accomplished alone. And while the odds may be ever against you

You have to decide what matters to you. And if that is football, you listen to your brothers on the team and keep your circle small.

And if that is closet-cases that fear for their safety when outed

And if that is a mother at 9 years old because that is how old you were when you realized you were more emotionally intelligent than your own pathetic excuse for a mother who is really a batman villain who you will later turn into if you don’t watch out for the stalker tendencies now and your fuckboi father who still cheats on your mother because this is a pity marriage that neither of them are ready to end even though everyone would be better off, especially your brother who is a precious little squish but being psychologically handicapped by the Stephen King Novel raising him and who is so much like you but you won’t know that for several years because you’re just a child and what do you know what normal is or is not supposed to feel like...

Then that’s just what the fuck it means.

My therapist asked me how I’m doing in 2020 with my depression and the isolation and what I think about the protests.

Like if the logic behind the protests was up for debate. Or if it was a political statement rather than a statement of human compassion and empathy to say that

Black

Lives

Matter.

I guess she hasn’t seen Remember the Titans

0 notes

cnfhumss12a-blog · 5 years

Text

Binondo: Experiencing the Unexperienced Culture

By Paula Cualteros

The Chinese culture has been evident in a country like the Philippines. With Filipinos who widely embrace the Chinese traditions and lifestyles, there is an unending bond that somehow make the two worlds collide. This makes the Filipino and Chinese cultures function in unison. Binondo is a great example for this connection between these two worlds that allow anyone, whether local or international visitors, to see the harmonious relationship of these traditions. In other words, both cultures find balance in one another, just like how Yin Yang functions in connection with one another.

Fact: I was never really been exposed to the Chinese culture until I moved into the Philippines in the year 2012. Then and there, I became enthused with the Chinese culture and food that an Asian country such as the Philippines had abundantly.

It all started back when I was twelve years old where my curiosity grew for the culture. I had many Chinese-Filipino friends and I noticed something they had in common— they were all rich! Everywhere I went, I would see that Chinoys (Chinese Pinoy) were wealthy, all having businesses related to agriculture, furniture, or restaurants. For years, I was clueless about the local Chinese and their traditions, until I found out that I was half Chinese as well (Shocking, isn’t it?). With the exposure to the other half of my identity, I was able to understand the culture I once never knew about. Meeting my pure Chinese piao (cousins) and guama/guakong (grandparents) was difficult as a Westernized Filipino who grew around the values of both Filipinos and Americans; but this made me open a whole new door for adventure. This gave me the opportunity to participate in different events such as traditional Chinese weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations.

The Truth About Chinatown

Let’s face it, every country has a wide range of Chinese communities that resulted to one great location: Chinatown. These communities are where you can find men and women, both young and old, who devote themselves into their respective fields of business. The Philippines has its very own Chinatown, the infamous Binondo City in Manila. In fact, it is the oldest Chinatown in the entire world! However, there was one issue— I have never been to Binondo. As I rode the Divisoria jeepney in front of my school along Taft Avenue, my curiosity was as wide as when I had just been exposed to the Chinese culture. I was thirsty to learn and see what this historical place had to offer. I got off the jeep in front of Binondo church and whiffed the ‘fresh’ polluted air of the city.

For some reason, when I stepped into the boundaries of Binondo, it was like I re-experienced the traditions of my Chinese family; as if I was entering a whole world I have never been to. Red lanterns filled the sky view; the vibrant color of red was lighting up the sky every time I looked up. Signages with Chinese translations were everywhere from banks, restaurants, and public transportations. The city of Binondo was like a country within a country wherein it embraced the likeness of the Chinese culture.

Why visit Binondo?

Walking through the narrow streets of Ongpin and Salazar, I would see a lot of fruit stands selling locally grown fruits and agriculturally important products for healing and remedy such as burdock root. The city stretches from here where restaurants can be located. Restaurants with roasted duck hanging by the window silsl and steam coming out of the door entrances from the intense frying of noodles nearby. Binondo is a hard place to get lost in because for some reason, as I was walking in circles around the neighborhood, I never seemed to have gotten lost. It was as if I managed to return at a place I recognized. For a first timer, I thought that was pretty impressive!

As a timeless destination, I was enamoured with the unique beauty of Binondo. It was as if I was going back into time when I saw the worn out signages on the streets, the faded posters of Chinese whitening beauty products, and the simple restaurant designs of dimsum houses. The loud and busy streets of Binondo was chaotic, yet for some reason, it was all in harmony. It was as if there was a pattern of activities being done within the vicinity of the Binondo. Delivery trucks came to and fro the narrow streets, men carried out boxes of fruits and motor parts, tinderas yelled distantly in the background, and car horns echoed. In a place like this, there was no doubt that an individual will not experience something new. The aroma was appetizing, the environment was welcoming, and the people were nurturing. In many ways, Binondo is like a home away from home for both local Filipinos and Chinoys.

What’s interesting about Binondo?

There are so many things to look forward to when you’re in Binondo. The people, the food, and the experience. The restaurants in the area were very simple, not too old and not too modern, just the right touch of old and new for customers of the old and new generations. I myself was enthused with the food experience. I passed by different restaurants to try a dish or two and for some reason, the same food can taste so different based on the styles of each restaurant. I did not expect that there can be something so unique in the same cultural frame. There were restaurants lined up against a long road that specialized in different dishes such as dimsum, noodles, and chicken; it’s like an endless option for anyone to satisfy their food needs.

I even stopped at different stalls and stores where I talked to some of the sellers. Never would I expect that some of them would respond. As a person without a clue of the environment of Binondo, everything was unclear. With curiosity and interests in the lives of the locals, I decided to talk to a woman, a tender of one of the fruit stalls. I approached her with a smile and a greeting of gratitude in request of a interview for school only to be shunned with yelling of disinterest and complaint as she told me to leave in Fukien Chinese.

Lesson learned: Do not ask for an interview, converse and go with the flow!

It was so embarrassing, I did not expect to be told to leave for something as innocent as a school activity. Maybe she thought I would put her in a hot seat about her business. Despite that, I brushed it off my shoulder and continued my journey on Benavidez street.

Passing by more restaurants and roasted chickens or ducks by the window sills, I came across a man in a merchandising shop. This time, I greeted him with a smile as I asked for recommendations on what places to visit. (Not, an interview.) We conversed and I told him it was my first time there. He told me to sit at his booth and we talked. He was an average height Chinoy, probably around 5’7 ft in height, wore simple clothes such as khaki shorts and a t-shirt with a pair of slippers. A man in his mid-40’s with spiky hair and a very contagious smile; his name was Richard Sing from the Sing Merchandising Shop, and he was born and raised in Binondo. In other words, he knew everything about the place. He told me the original restaurants in the area and how it would help me understand the difference of commercialized Chinese food from the authentic.

The conversation went on for almost an hour to the point where it got serious and he told me his frustrations as an old generation Chinoy. Throughout the conversation, I gave him hints on how I’ll be writing about the experiences and people and he seemed to not mind about him being “interviewed” for it. My mind was in awe when I found out the truth about the Chinoys in the Philippines that were labeled based on society’s stereotypical views. “Just because Chinese kami, ‘di ibig sabihen taga Chiang Kai Shek kami.” Many Chinoys are assumed to have come from the same school, from the same city, with the same values. Other stereotypes circulated on physical appearance where every Chinoy man is fat, white, and nerdy while women are skinny, white, and needy. Talk about borderline racism.

Richard seemed to have had a lot of experience in both the environment of Binondo and the societal conflicts of Chinoys. My time with him made me understand the culture of the Chinese yet understand what it is like to be Chinoy. In many ways, I learned years worth of information in a span of an hour. I’m a Chinoy, I should know these things too.

Rest assured, the wonders of the place and the food aren’t just the things to experience, it’s the interaction with people as well.

What is different about the Chinese culture?

A lot had changed through the decades that have passed but the thing is, it is both a negative and positive outlook. Let’s tackle it this way, starting off with the concept of love. We all know about the arranged marriages that was and still is a tradition of China. But the difference is, many Chinese families are more open to the belief of “what one’s heart is set on, then follow it” (or in this case, their partner). According to Richard, in his generation, many families were still strict about marriages but the younger generations better known as the generation of the 1990’s and onwards have openly accepted independence in terms of marriages.

One tradition I never knew was as serious as marriage was the taking home of food. In Chinese events, there are always big servings of food from appetizers of egg soup, to main courses of peking duck and wrap, and to dessert of mango sago with milk. At the end of the event, there are always heaping amount of leftovers thus every Chinese family would request for a take out of the food. Here’s the difference though, the newer generation of Chinoys don’t take home the leftovers, only leaving the food to waste. This act is unacceptable for the older generation like Richard but is common in the young Chinoys of today. The way I understood it is that Chinoys nowadays think more about convenience rather than practicality. In other words, the new generation Chinese are more privileged than the older generation. Well, this can just be an opinion of his, or a starting point of a new stereotype for new generation Chinoys.

Is Binondo worth visiting?

I’ll keep this short and simple, the answer is yes! In a span four hours of my stay in Binondo, I was able to try authentic Chinese food, get yelled at by a Chinese woman, talked to Richard who knew everything about this place, and better yet, I was able to experience the unexperienced culture. It was the culture I was searching for, the culture I wanted to further understand. Talk about adventure, right? The city is filled with flavors and sights that give an overall joyous feeling. As I walked back and forth along the streets of Binondo, I felt like I was a child playing in a playground. Everything seemed to be interesting, as if I needed to try everything around me. Philippines’ Chinatown gives you best of both worlds, the heat of the Philippines with a taste of China; what a combination!

To get the most of your visit, it is best to have an open mind and to not be afraid of trying something new. Everything I did was something that got me out of my comfort zone and I think that’s what made going to Binondo a more memorable experience, allowing yourself to see the location in a broader perspective. The old city of Binondo is not only a destination but a journey within the narrow streets of Chinatown. Binondo may be a small city but it has enough activities to keep you occupied. I believe that everyone’s experience may be different but one thing is for sure, Philippines’ Chinatown unifies Chinoys both young and old, that will forever be a medium of passed down tradition for the future generations. Binondo is unique and historical and I can’t wait to visit it again.

Gallery: https://cnfhumss12a.tumblr.com/tagged/Paula

#english #Paula

0 notes

nehagautam1 · 4 years

Text

Neha Gautam

SOC 3- 001

Professor Barton

March 20th, 2020

My Puzzling Identity: An Eccentric Auto-Ethnography

New York, a vibrant city bustling with a plethora of different cultures, promises immigrants the opportunity to embrace their culture, even after bidding goodbyes to their motherland. While those who wish to share stories of their American Dream succeed in finding their community within New York City’s various ethnic neighborhoods, others who seek to reinvent themselves get quickly immersed within the fast-paced lifestyle of this city. I, however, constantly find myself standing at a crossroad between the two paths, unable to fully immerse myself in either. I can only credit my mismatch with this city to the constant moving around I did in my childhood. Having been born in the ethereal Himalayan nation of Nepal, to growing up in the picturesque and colorful city of Copenhagen, I found myself quite envious of those who had found their identity within this city. That is not to say that my pursuit of this “American Dream” has not been fulfilling. It was only until recently that I truly discovered what was meant by that phrase. Had it not been for high school government class, I probably would have unknowingly participated in this dream without knowing its true meaning all along. Yet, that is not startling at the least to me. Many of us are willing participants in this popular fantasy. I call it a fantasy, not out of disrespect to this powerful movement, but because the expectations put forth to people, especially immigrants, are unrealistic and quickly end up lodged behind the everyday pressures of affording to live in this city; country.

It goes without saying that having a cultural community is important to maintain one’s self identity. While my rant about not being able to fit in may appear arbitrary, it is nonetheless only a fragment of the picture. Living in New York has allowed me to gain back the culture I had lost, only as a toddler. The qualms of not being able to understand slangs or cultural references quickly fade away every time I find myself in the South Asian neighborhood of Jackson Heights.

From the minute I step down from the Jackson Heights subway station, I am welcomed with a wide array of familiar smells that trigger memories from my childhood in Nepal. I can instantly pinpoint these smells to different aspects of a South Asian home. From being drawn into the smell of freshly fried samosas and picking up the pungent flavors of every whole and crushed spice that went into its preparation, to being reminded of temple visits in [1]Kathmandu from the scent of freshly light incense, I find myself being able to identity myself with these familiar and memorable scents.

Though quite sharp, the sense of smell is only temporarily triggered on my visits to Jackson Heights. As I quickly take a walk down [2]Roosevelt avenue, I find hundreds of Nepalis walking by my side. It is only then, when I stand among my crowd, my people, that I feel most connected to myself. It is only seconds before I hear the first [3]“Ke cha” followed by various other slangs being used all around the streets. It truly feels like I have stepped into [4]Thamel Bazaar and started exploring the various shops offering everything from Nepalese [5]Momos to hand woven Nepalese carpets. My reality turns even more pleasant as I chuck a laugh witnessing Nepali women bargain with shop owners, just like it is rooted in every south Asian that the skill of bargaining is more desirable than being rich.

On the contrary, being a brown immigrant in New York City has its own fair shares of quiet discrimination, dirty looks, and sky high-unrealistic expectations. As a South Asian immigrant, I have quietly laughed off my peer’s expectations of me to be the highest performer in class due to my “brownness”. However, this is a serious issue that has taken over the lives of countless Asian American students who feel that the unrealistic academic expectations of them only hinder their ability to perform well in school and affect their mental health. Tiffany, a high school sophomore, describes her experience in “Whitewashing Academic Mediocrity” as “All the teachers expect all the Asians to do really well. When one Asian doesn’t do well, they’re looked down upon in a way, because they’re Asian and they’re smart, automatically” (Reader, 269.) While we have all quietly given into this disproportionate and unfair belief that Asian students perform better than other races, the origin of this theory is unknown. A popular belief is that parents of Asian ethnicity are stricter on their children due to their own struggles of making it big in this country. This is supported by Jennifer Lee, a renowned sociologist, in, “Ask a Sociologist: Jennifer Lee on Naming Success” Lee states, “There is a perception among some Asian-American parents that their children must pay an Asian Tax…. meaning that they have to have higher SAT scores and grades to be admitted at the same rate as their White, African American, and Latino peers” (Reader, 156.) Lee also shares the story of a parent who was concerned with giving his child his ethnic last name. “To help the kids get into selective colleges and ultimately get great jobs, would it be better to change their last names to their mother’s American name (Pollard), hyphenate (Pollard-Ali), or just keep Ali?” (Reader, 155.) This is a concern that almost every Asian-American parent has struggled with. With hopes of trying to provide their children with the best opportunities, they are often forced to step away from their culture in order to minimize the discrimination and bullying for their kids. Like the story of this parent, my good friend’s father dropped “Khan” from the family last name over fears of it inviting Islamophobia and limiting opportunities for his children. This is a struggle faced by many immigrants across the country who are compelled to forget their everyday sufferings over hopes of accomplishing their American dream.

My experience in Jackson Heights, and the experience of immigrants in the United States, can be very much compared to sitting on a seesaw. On one hand, we have the opportunity to reconnect with our culture within ethnic communities. On the other hand, we are compelled to let go of that very culture to fit in and avoid alienation. While I am continuously delighted over being able to share many similarities with the Nepali community in New York, I often find myself unable to thoroughly immerse myself in any culture due to my lack of understanding of various cultural phenomenon. From being unable to understand the slangs being used by my Nepali friends, to not understanding a joke between my New York born and brought up friends, I am constantly reminded of my inability to fit in amongst any group. However, living in New York has allowed me to be closer than ever to my vibrant culture, and every day, I feel one slang closer to being able to fully understand the beauty of my Nepalese ethnicity.

[1] Kathmandu: Capital City of Nepal

[2] Roosevelt Avenue: A commercial street in Jackson Heights

[3] “Ke cha”: A Popular Nepalese slang translated as “Whats Up”

[4] Thamel Bazaar: A crowded, commercial neighborhood in Kathmandu

[5] Samosas: Fried patties filled with a potato-peas mixture

[6] Momos: Nepalese dumplings often filled with meat and vegetables

#soc3

0 notes