Target Women: Sarah Haskins

I love Sarah Haskins. She has lots more of these on youtube, but some of my personal faves are the ones about birth control, yogurt sex (as mentioned in class), and cleaning, of course.

The Bechdel Test for Women in Movies

This test was created by an awesome comic artist, Allison Bechdel, who is famous for her really beautiful autobiographical illustrated novel, Fun Home. This lady is not her but is also awesome.

it only takes a girl

I made this piece in response to what Laura brought up in class about the use of female exploitation in advertising. It didn't take me long to find an example in a magazine. However, what struck me was the context in which I found the images. I first found the cereal advertisement. It was sandwiched between an article about eating disorders and a story about pageant girls. The pageant girl story was where I found the quote "I hope little girls will see: they can be whatever they want to be", which is questionable in the context of the article, but I won't get into a rant on pageants today. I wanted to contrast the image with the text to show what a confusing world full of conflicting messages girls are raised in.

We also got into a discussion about the qualities of feminism and our generation. Most of the class was saying that our generation does not share a lot of the qualities of feminism because we were essentially raised to believe that we can be what we want to be. Although I agree with parts of that statement, it really the case, its just something we hope is true. I was raised by my dad and brothers to, "know my place". This meaning know how to cook and clean. My grandmother, who raised 3 boys on her own, is the one who taught me how to be independent in case I end up with "two no-good husbands" like she did. I'm sure if my brother didn't get married it would be overlooked, but if I don't think I would hear the end of it if I don't end up married.

Anyway, check this out. This is a shocking and inspiring video for the future girls and women of the world.

I couldn't get it to load so here is the link..... http://front.moveon.org/it-only-takes-a-girl

The only issue I take with this video is at the very end. There are a group of girls standing together and only one of them is black. She is somehow the one holding the sign for HIV/AIDS. But other than that, I think its well done and it makes an important point.

High schools of America: Markers of History

This book has brought an awareness to me about the frequency of high schools in American history. In our country's past and present, high school campuses and their respective students have acted as and inspired agents of change through both triumphs and tragedies. As we have read, whether they want to be included in the history books of America and how they will be represented is not necessarily presented as an option.

Members of the Little Rock Nine being escorted to school (1957).

What is it about the setting of a high school that draws this energy and attention? High school scenes of violence, trauma, discrimination, bullying, harassment and subsequent awareness, protests, and debates have made it into the nightly news throughout my entire life. Just today there was a school shooting in Ohio that has left at least one person dead. When I read the news article I thought immediately of the Columbine shooting that happened over a decade ago and the changes in our society that resulted. It also served as an unfortunate reminder of how much has remained the same.

Time Magazine's report of the Columbine Massacre in Littleton, Colorado (1999).

 Public high schools are a place that bring together people from different classes, races, religions and sexual orientations. Meanwhile, teenagers are developing their identities and beliefs as they creep towards adulthood with each passing day. The typical American public high school serves as a microcosm towards our society at large, with societal issues coming to a front with full force each and every day. Why Are All The Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? (Tatum) touches on this idea in the very title of the book.

Protests after the arrests of 6 Black Students in Jena, L.A. (2006)

What is it about high school's that garner our attention versus any other setting? People are killed, discriminated against and bullied outside of this setting everyday. When injustice and violence reach our youth in a safe place dedicated to growing and learning, our society begins to listen. Often times, as with today's school shooting, it is too late. Has our society become deaf? Have we grown accustomed to these tragedies and injustices so that we no longer even see them?

Watch as Morgan Freeman drops some knowledge on Charleston High School students as he explains why they should have a desegregated prom. (2008)

I feel that high schools have come to serve as a popular magnifying glass of sorts on the issues of America. A peek into what is 'right' and 'wrong' with our society. Individual stories that serve as a representation of an entire communities struggles or triumphs that often fit nicely into the evening news or make an interesting documentary film. How much is being presented to us? Which sides are we hearing?

Constance McMillen sued her Mississippi school district for not being allowed to wear a tuxedo and bring her girlfriend to prom, (2010).

Little Rock Central High School now serves as a symbol of the Civil Rights Movement and is a prominent part of America's history books. Does that mean discrimination no longer exists in it's hallways, administration and community? Does that mean discrimination is no longer a part of America's educational system? Today's high school communities are continuing to answer these questions.

Life Is More Than a Moment

"Life Is More Than a Moment.

That was pretty much what Hazel had told Linda Monk when they first spoke over the phone" (p. 242).

In the case of Hazel, as well as Elizabeth, it only took a moment in time to define who they both were. Elizabeth a hero. And Hazel a hateful person. But as we can all see through this book, there was so much more to both of them. I think this is an important idea for us to carry over in our work as therapists. In my internship, I am constantly reminded of this quote. Each day I am constantly learning new snippets from different member's lives. Some snapshots of their lives surprise me and some do not. But as a therapist it is important to continue to assess our clients each time we meet with them. There are always new things to learn about a person as well as multiple experiences and descriptors that make up a person.

When it comes to culture, we need to be aware of cultural differences. But we also need to make sure that we are not defining a client solely on their culture. In Kottler's book, On Being a Therapist, he shares a quote that rang true to me. He starts off the paragraph by explaining how a therapist might approach someone from a different cultural background. He then goes on to explain:

The greater truth is that we would sometimes do better by throwing our theories out the window and meeting each person not just as a representative of his or her cultural group but as a completely unique individual with an assortment of cultural identities that include far more than ethnicity, race, and religion (p. 9).

I think this idea translates to Hazel's original quote, Life Is More Than a Moment. A client's identity is more than their cultural background and if we do not get beyond this, we are not understanding the full identity of the client.

Have Chicago's Race Relations Changed in 20 Years?

After reading the last half of Elizabeth and Hazel, I started to think about race relations in Chicago.

I stumbled upon this 3 minute video where NBC Chicago attempts to examine modern day race relations in our fair city. The optimism is laughable, and the "experiment" and premise of the segment are certainly faulty, but you want to hope that the people behind the story had good intentions (besides boosting their ratings with a "controversial" topic). At least it's a good conversation starter about how mass media outlets totally capitalize on the struggles of others. Or whatever.

What I found most interesting, however, were the comments that followed the article on the website. I generally dislike reading all the hate-filled words that usually follow any kind of public post on the internet, and these are pretty typical. But I think it says a lot about the various experiences and perspectives each of us has on race and how it affects our lives.

Examining someone's point of view (even if it is ignorant, hateful, and bigoted) can be helpful to understand how we all try to live in the same world.

That being said, most of the comments make me very angry about the lack of empathy, surplus of misinformation, and general mean-spirited-ness many people seem to exhibit in "anonymous" forums.

Elizabether and Hazel: Things to mention

Page 133:
"Only the handful of Japanese-American students, children of families left over from the internment camps in Arkansas to which they'd been sent during World War II, were as isolated."


Page: 193
"'There's more to me than one moment,' Hazel told her."






















I have this urge to write Hazel a letter and thank her for being the girl in the photograph. Because why this did not represent her as a whole, it caused a nation to realize that this was real, and it was wrong.

Page: 202
"For forty years, wrote Deborah Halter in the Democrat-Gazette, she had assumed the Hazel of the picture to be an adult, and had loathed 'this almost mythical character standing like an icon of Southern racial hatred.' Now she realized that Hazel had been fifteen years old, an empty vessel into whom others-her parents? her teachers?her minister?-had poured all their prejudices."



Page: 230
"Surely the ninety-five percent who had done nothing wrong that year were more important than the five percent who had; they, too, deserved praise."

"The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing." - Albert Einstein

Page: 297
"Central's whites had never been properly thanked for their heroism during that period. Elizabeth remembered Ross, though not that they had ever been friends."




Page: 276
"Then, all at once, it dawned on various people that when the nation's first African-American president took office, Elizabeth Eckford should be nearby. The rest of the Little Rock Nine would be, sitting with the Tuskegee Airmen. When Elizabeth told the Washington Post that she couldn't afford the trip, offers poured in to help foot the bill."

What I don't understand is that if they wanted to use her for such propoganda, why wouldn't they offer to pay her hotel and airfare in the first place? They kept having these reunions and ceremonies throughout her life and never once did it mention that they were willing to pay for expenses. From what I understand of Hollywood and media and promotion, when you have an important guest, you pamper them. So why were the Little Rock Nine to come to events that they had to pay for?

Nation, History and individuals

 

While I was reading the article called, The Affective Turn, I could not help myself thinking about my nation's history. The Japanese colonization was a cruel period, and the Korean war was somewhat inevitable consequence of that time.

Americans---the sodiers and missionaries, black market from U.S. camp and Yankee brides.... Korea was a poor country after collapse of Chosun dynasty through Japanese colonial period to the Korean war. This was a time that there was no food, but hunger and tear. These years between 1900s to 50s were  the most hurtful period of time for the nation's history in every level. Though I never learned Korean history at school or never experienced anything related to this subject matter directly, these are something that I learned/knew naturally, because of my background.

"We(Americans) dumped food that we don't want to eat--sent to Asia, the poor regions back then and I guess Korea was one of them."--This was true. The picture of a girl with a bubble gum standing with a sodier (on far right hand) tells the story of it. There were times that children ran after the US camp-trucks to get free-foods after the Korean war.

However, when I heard this comment, I was outraged. I had reactions from the inside. Thousand words popped up in my head. Initially, I thought of saying something back, because this was an insulting sentence with a choice of words. This person was not respectful to who I was, where I was from. But, I kept words in my head at that moment with me. I kept silence, because people can be ignorant sometimes.

I do not mind people of US (or any other nation) having pride of their nations. (Tell me about French people!:)) There are facts about US. I understand the power dynamics between nations. I acknowledge and accept the dynamics, because that is a reflected reality. FTA is a good example here. However, I do not think people should transfer that power dynamics to individual level. Then it becomes an problematic term, because it evokes the politics and dominance of the individual behind the culture, society, and nation.

Also, because meaning of the words are performed, and even unrecognized, or unsaid-- meanings are transformative; thus, people should be careful with the choice of words. (-->This is something I struggle with because English is my 2nd language. I can't simply add polite form like Korean grammar has one. ) To be a culturally informed therapist, I believe that individuals should constantly cultivate oneself with varies sources and contexts about people of diversity. Learning and acknowledging  about the 'others' and 'differences'  with open mind is the first step to be.

"The 95% who had done nothing wrong"

"The ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good people."

-Martin Luther King Jr.

This book takes so many twists and turns that I find myself trying to shift between the view points with as much objectivity and mindfulness as I can... though I have to say some parts made me struggle. Particularly in Chapter 34 when Ralph Brodie, the student body president of Central recounts his thoughts and beliefs: that Hazel is the "poster child for the hate generation" and she made himself and others look bad, that the acts of cruelty were exaggerated, that "surely the ninety-five percent who had done nothing wrong that year were more important than the five percent who had: they, too, deserved praise." This is all hard for me to digest. I want to see his side of the story, but I am also thinking - how you do think you are so innocent? Even IF 95% of the students didn't directly act cruelly toward the Nine, they didn't help. It is just as bad. The stories of other students that acted as though they weren't there, said nothing to them, kind or unkind, did nothing, witnessing it, allowing it to continue - still fed the hateful fire.

The hard part, for me, is if I imagine myself as a student at Central. If I place my high-school self into the class of 1957 I am afraid that I would have been a silent one as well. It makes me think back to moments as a kid, middle-schooler, and high-schooler that I didn't stand up for others; whether I was too self-conscious, quiet, or wanted to fit in- it is hard to say. Like Hazel, you can't take it back, you simply have to make peace with the past and move on and hope (or know?) you have learned & changed.

Kissing Can't Kill

This poster was on the side of a bus. It took up almost the entire side of it. It was really refreshing to see this poster. It covers so many different areas in terms of culture, race, and gender. And though it seems extremely obvious what point it's trying to get across, I think it shows so many things. So many people especially in older generations  seem to be against different races dating or same sex relationships. My grandmother on my dad's side will probably disapprove, and possibly disown me as her granddaughter, when she finds out that my boyfriend is half Hispanic and his first language is Spanish. It would be even worse if I were bisexual or lesbian. I used to care what my grandmother thought, but now it doesn't matter to me anymore. I am going to date whoever I want and fall in love with whoever I fall in love with and it won't be based on the color of their skin or where they are from. And I don't care who approves. Some people would be appalled by this poster, but I am blown away by the rawness of it. I kind of wish their were different words with it though. Like: "Kissing doesn't kill, but ignorance might."

Hi all,

I wanted to post a letter that was recently sent to my alma mater student newspaper. I thought how timely it was regarding our discussions on education and racial/social/economic prejudices.

To the Editor,

I am the president of the Smith Club of Westchester County. I enjoy reading the Sophian online because it helps me stay abreast of developments at the school.

I read your article about [President] Carol [Christ]'s resignation and it had some interesting statistics. It mentioned the percentage increase in the population of women of color and foreign students. The gist of the article was that one of Carol's objectives coming into the position was to increase diversity and the article gave statistics that showed that she did.

As someone who has followed admissions for many years, I can tell you how the school is viewed by students in Westchester and Fairfield Counties. First, these counties are some of the wealthiest in the country. The children have parents who are highly educated and accomplished and have high household incomes. The children are programmed from day one to get into Ivy League schools.

To this demographic, Smith is a safety school. Also, very few of these students want to go to a single sex school. With the exception of Wellesley, it is not hard to get into the Seven Sisters any more. The reason why Wellesley is more selective is because it is smaller than Smith and in a better geographic location – Boston beats Northampton.

The people who are attending Smith these days are A) lesbians or B) international students who get financial aid or C) low-income women of color who are the first generation in their family to go to college and will go to any school that gives them enough money. Carol emphasizes that this is one of her goals, and so that's why the school needs more money for scholarships or D) white heterosexual girls who can't get into Ivy League schools.

Smith no longer looks at SATs because if it did, it would have to report them to U.S. News & World Report. Low-income black and Hispanic students generally have lower SATs than whites or Asians of any income bracket. This is an acknowledged fact because they don't have access to expensive prep classes or private tutors.

To accomplish [President Christ's] mission of diversity, the school is underweighting SAT scores. This phenomenon has been widely discussed in the New York Times Education section. If you reduce your standards for grades and scores, you drop in the rankings, although you have accomplished a noble social objective. Smith has one of the highest diversity rates in the country.

I can tell you that the days of white, wealthy, upper-class students from prep schools in cashmere coats and pearls who marry Amherst men are over. This is unfortunate because it is this demographic that puts their name on buildings, donates great art and subsidizes scholarships.

-Anne Spurzem '84

(original link: http://www.smithsophian.com/opinions/letters-to-the-editor-1.2792404#.T0rSluA3IxY)

Needless to say, this letter has created quite the stir in the Smith (and greater Seven Sisters) community. I wanted to share it as proof (not that we need it) that ignorance is still a prevalent issue today and perhaps to spark conversation surrounding academia and issues of class, race, and sexuality.

- Jessie (aka Jessica, in case that was confusing for anybody)

How do we want to be remembered?

I was really struck by Elizabeth's line, as quoted to Linda Monk, "There's more to me than one moment" (p. 193). Monk was someone who had empathy for Hazel and as I read the things Hazel did as she grew up, I also felt some empathy for her. Nonetheless, it does not make her wrongs into rights, and that is something so important to remember, especially as young people who are in the position to make a difference for social justice. Political commentator, Rachel Maddow, spoke at my commencement and her advice to us still inspires me today. She urged us to think beyond personal victories and to do things that not only will make us proud today but that will make us proud 10, 20, 30 years from now. Hazel's story can be a word of caution to all of us. We have all done (or not done) things that we are not proud of and we cannot change that, but we can move through our lives with the intention of creating social victories, and not just ones for ourselves.

The Female Experience

Reflecting upon "Third World Women and Conflicts in Feminist Perspectives and Art Therapy" I couldn't stop thinking about my clients. Many of the points she makes can be applied to interactions with any client, not limited to race or gender.

Talwar's article states that the increasing number of art therapy graduates in the U.S. are women who work with low income populations, "primarily ethnic minorities and women". This was the first thing I noticed when entering therapeutic art education and have continued to see this pattern in the field of art therapy. She stresses the importance of helping clients find their own voice through artistic expression. However, therapists need to avoid generalizations about the meaning of symbolic content, which we are always being reminded of.

She talks about what constitutes a feminist issue and how feminist theory must reflect the lived experience of women. This idea is reinforced through the foundation of any human relationship. We create both everyday and therapeutic relationships through the creation of shared meaning. Without the basis of any common ground, is it possible to establish trust? She then says we must broaden the psychology of women to include all types of women. Gender is just one variable of the social construct to understand the female experience.

Talwar states, "many art therapists look at the ability to apprehend visual information and tend to operate from a place of judgement rather than empathy" and their interpretations constantly intrude on their observations. This I feel is the most relevant and applicable piece of information to my experiences now. There is a fine balance between being open to what a client is saying and making the necessary inferences to help a client move forward without allowing your interpretations to intrude on your observations.

"A Separation" Movie Review

 

LINK TO THE FILM (Note: You do not have to download anything. On top of the video you will see an advertisement box. Click the X at the upper right hand corner of the advertisement and it will go away.  Enjoy the movie!)  

 WATCH A SEPARATION

Wow did this movie make an impact! Thanks for the suggestion, Suellen! I'm going to try to talk about the film's theme without mentioning any spoilers!

A married couple are faced with a difficult decision - to improve the life of their child by moving to another country or to stay in Iran and look after a deteriorating parent who has Alzheimers. Not only did the film give amazing insight on Iran's culture, but it highlighted the effects of decisions we make. There is so much to take away from the couple's dilemmas as they have to weigh out decisions involving their children, spouses, neighbors, the law, and the Koran. What I learned is that it is nearly impossible to point out who is "right" or "wrong" when incidents happen. When you think about your life at this second, there are situations already in effect (You are at SAIC because you had the attributes to be accepted. You moved to Chicago because you enrolled at SAIC. You got an apartment because you moved to Chicago. You must pay rent every month because you got an apartment.) Notice this is much like the game Dominos. One decision ---> the next decision ---> the next decision. Therefore, life can sometimes quickly wind up in a place you didn't think you'd be at since one cause led to one effect and that effect led to three more causes, which led to 10 more effects. With this in mind, what happens when a huge boulder comes and knocks some of your Dominos down into different directions? You have to use the path of life that you are currently at in order to solve the boulder problem. You can't always start back at the beginning because life has kept moving and time has not stopped ticking.

As therapists we must keep in mind that our clients cannot be deemed "wrong" or "right" in most cases. A person that ended up in jail for stealing walks out of jail 4 years later. Perhaps, wrong. Then that person decides to do everything right, honest, and square to make him or herself a good job candidate BUT their resume states they have been convicted of theft. Guess who will hire that person? Not many. That person has no where to go despite their great convictions and jumps into selling drugs just to make it by. They get caught and are sent back to jail for 10 years. At this point, we start a cycle. As therapists, we have to keep in mind that there are systems in place (the law, the Koran, family) that will be affected by decisions whether they are "right" or "wrong." In this case, is it our duty to help individuals learn from decisions, accept their situations, and help them find ways of dealing?

-Erika

self/other

It is hard for me to decide on an entree on a menu, I always want to try something new, I never buy the same mustard twice, I have not tried lavender honey mustard yet, I say to myself, the perfect consumer of difference, that I am. At the same time let's examine how I embrace change to create stability? What do I loose in constantly changing, adapting, where my mutability is now, a default. It takes some individuals years to change, or they may never, for me, I change in a second. What is my identity? If I constantly deflect, slip, mutate, and where is that coming from, a desire not to stand still? Most of you know I question my own need to question, but now I accept mutability. I actually think I dance with pondering, the question mark is a symbol of infinity, an image I trust, it's a partner that is always vibrating. I think of the self as an aggregate of other selves, flows, histories, narratives, and stories. I always say I am never the same person twice, and I say the sky is free, so if nature is constantly changing, and the sky is never the same twice, then shouldn't I? I ask myself to be as graceful as clouds changing colors, sometimes it happens and other times, it's the shift in our voice, when we say something that is a dig, and it unearths something, we feel our voice shatter, it's maybe not as graceful, but it's authentic being, awkwardness, failure can be beautiful.

This is the place I from which I look and speak from, the shattered mirror. I like broken things, I can trust them, they have already won, they tried and failed and broke, I know they could break more, and then turn into dust, like all living things, I trust this entropy. I like looking at broken things, I see the facets of everything else reflected in it. Sometimes I meet someone, and I look in their eyes, and I can see all the selves they represent, sometimes it's so powerful that I wonder how we can ever even keep a gaze. They say there is a kingdom in Indra where there sits a strand of pearls so arranged, you can see all other reflected in it. So I love this kind of reflected self, or diffracted meaning, or living fractal. I made a series of videos about my identity this week, but my videos also represent my struggle with self and other. There have been these struggles in my personal life, what a funny phrase, I consider everything personal. But I saw the way I had mutated for a great love, while I usually contemplate loss and intimacy, I found myself stuck on repeat for the last couple years, who was I now?

Who was I, when I felt completed by this great love, would I still carry that honor of another body, around with me of it, would that memory transform, as I futilely, try to hold it in my hands? At the same time, it was a story I constantly had to re-tell, re write, it became a pathology,a dn many works in my practice where made to address this very simple ask, which was who am I now? If I only saw the tragedy, loss and pain, of the not a happy ending, tragic break, in this relationship then I would suffer enjoy pain, and play my pain tapes on repeat. I would cover my walls with these wounds, which I did, but I still couldn't press play? I loved rewinding, and fast forwarding, and of course recording, 348 videos on youtube stand for this daily practice with my loss and intimacy. The other option was I had to re write the narrative, to keep from sinking further into a widows dance, I had to find the lesson I the event, I had to see the gift in the parting. I looked at the way the lyrics of a song said "you look like me" to a lover, then said "and I look like no one else" it was profound to me, to think of how I had seen parts of my self in this other lover, so much so, that the conversation of a love assemblage, or a break really became a desire to examine my own consciousness, my own being/being raised in this other. In other words it was my "self" or selves, I desired to know, love, honor, adore, why did I use a person to find this out? To find the "i'm the one, I am looking for" part of it all, to know when I hold my body at night in my bed the way I used to reach for that other body, that I am complete. Sure there at times I shudder and ask what happened, but I get to keep this embrace of my body, and find new ways to exercise this new loving dimension of my being, most of all I am learning to press play, maybe I will find myself just sticking with gray poupon for a few years, I like the way I have segued from self-flexivity and mustard, and perhaps why my choice of yellow wigs signifies mustard, or the fact that I have covered my body in mustard, (it stings) for a performance all these ideas< I will examine later

Oil and Water

I am writing from a particularly disturbing sentence I read in Elizabeth and Hazel. At one point Hazel restates a line she heard her preacher say: "Had God meant for whites and blacks to mix, he'd have made them the same color." Now, although this could be left at the stance that it was just an opinion held by two (or many) people, it made me think about its context in a larger framework. What he is really saying is that the only people allowed to associate with one another are those that came out of the womb the same skin color. Although I am tempted to debate the religious part of the preacher's quote, I will refrain so that a point can be made about our cultural competency as future therapists.

There is one positive notion to the idea of gathering, celebrating, and appreciating the people of our own skin color- we develop a sense of identity within our respective cultures. "Because you are also Hispanic I can make inside jokes and praise or complain about Mexican food, family, value systems, etc." Within this exchange we get the comforting sense of "You make me feel known and I will make you feel known."

But.... what about the unknown?

If whites only minded their white business and blacks only minded their black business then each would remain culturally incompetent. They would never learn the whys or hows that make up the other's world in order to fully understand differences in culture, language, history, class, and other aspects. Thankfully, strict cultural boundaries have been breaking down (although, not fully of course). Nowadays it is common to see advertisements that have people of a variety of cultures where everyone is portrayed as equal. This is a direct entry into our practice as therapists. Not only are we to view the client's culture as different but equal, but we as human beings within a therapeutic relationship are different but equal.







Sure, water and oil don't mix and dissolve into one substance, but each drop clings to and travels around the other substance. This is the world today: boundaries among different types of entities all traveling around each other. I can never be any other culture, but that doesn't mean that I can't connect with non- Hispanics respectfully and empathetically.

-Erika

Painting a Picture with Photographs

Photography has been a powerful tool in history. It has captured moments in time that have been turning points in our history, such as the photograph of Elizabeth and Hazel. Will Counts photograph captured the hatred from Hazel, while capturing the calm demeanor of Elizabeth at the exact same moment. This photograph is a historical icon that was used as a tool for change for desegregation. Although, what the photograph did not capture, was how terrified Elizabeth was walking down the street. It did not capture the tears in her eyes. It also did not capture how ignorant Hazel was. She was not necessarily filled with hatred, but filled with ignorance. She came to the protest to skip school and be part of the excitement, always wanting to be the center of attention. This is not excusing her actions, but the point is trying to portray that a photograph, while it can capture a truth, is only a snapshot of a moment in time and it does not tell the whole story.

Elizabeth was continually photographed over the years after her experience at Central High School. She was invited to conferences and political events. She was always shown in the photographs in her calm and quiet demeanor, even sometimes smiling. What the images do not show is how much Elizabeth suffered through the years after Central High School. Although the book does a good job painting a picture of her life through words, there are no images of the other side of her life. There are no photographs of Elizabeth barely being able to get out of bed, or her rundown house, or her children who she could barely take care of. This side of Elizabeth's story is not shown in images. She was a hero in everyone's eyes, and no one wanted to see her in this light. No one wanted to see her as a casualty of the war she helped to fight.

Images are so powerful and we have to be careful on how they are used and what we are trying to say. Photographs have changed history and will continue to have that role in our society. The word snapshot is a photographic term. And I think this is a very important term to keep in mind, a photograph is a snapshot of a moment. It tells a story, but not the whole story.

Growing up in Greensboro, North Carolina, I was taught year after year in school about the Sit-In Movement that began in my town in in 1960. Four African American college students refused to leave the "whites-only" lunch counter at Woolworth's until they were served, sparking groups of students to participate in similar sit ins throughout North Carolina and neighboring states. Nearly 6 months after the first protests the entire Woolworth's chain of stores was desegregated.

I feel as though I can recite that story by heart because I have heard it so many times. Due to it's over use in our particular school system, I have grown a bit tired of this story, and here I am writing about it again. Although it's inspirational value was wearing thin, in a new city I can see it in a new light. Moving to Chicago several people have recognized my hometown based off of the sit-in movement. Being able to identify myself and my hometown with this movement  has made me extremely proud. It is one of Greensboro's proudest moments as we became a shining beacon of social justice in the sea of ignorance and racism found throughout the south.

In school the story was often used to inspire us to take a stand for what we feel is right and to change the course of history for the better. This is the side of history that Elizabeth is on, the side that uplifts us, the side of struggle, courage, and justice. The other side of history, the one Hazel is on, was rarely discussed in my schools. The dark side of history filled with ignorance and hatred is the side of history that makes me, as a white person, feel ashamed and uncomfortable.

It is hard to see these sides until enough time has passed and enough distance is granted for us to look back and see the mistakes we've made. Hazel has spent a lifetime doing this. What if in schools we taught children to look at the mistakes they are making right now instead of having to wait 30 years into their life to realize them? What if we asked children, and ourselves, what side of history we are on right now? We are all contributing to history on a daily basis whether we like it or not and it is essential that we recognize the importance that even our smallest actions carry. Deciding what side of history to be on starts today. That is what I am taking away from this book most of all. 


-Laura

I am ashamed to say that I grew up in a predominately white school and didn’t really realize what race was until about the second grade. And when I say predominately white. I actually mean it was literally 100% nothing but Caucasian children and teachers until I was in second grade. Then we got a new student. He and his brother were adopted by one of the office aides and they were African American. Until then I had never noticed that our entire school was made up of white people.

            My school was tiny and in the middle of nowhere in Shelbyville, IN. It had about 500 students from kindergarten to 12^th grade. I went to the same school my entire life and those two boys were always the only two African Americans in our school. One of the boys was in my grade and his brother was three grades above us. Our school was very small and accepting so Anthony didn’t really have too much trouble fitting in. There are always bullies for one reason or another, but if it’s not skin color they find something else. Still I can’t imagine being the only kid in the entire school who is of a different race. I never really thought about it when I was a kid though. Race wasn’t really on my mind; he was just another kid.

            Going to undergrad was a huge culture shock though. I was more the minority there. The African American and Chinese population seemed to outweigh the Caucasian population. It was interesting to finally see that there was more than just white after growing up in such a secluded area.

            Elizabeth and Hazel reminded me of my tiny school. It’s sad that my school still exists and it’s not that different from Central. It may not have the extreme Racism but I still don’t get how it still has such a huge white population. It’s still about 98% white. I don’t remember how many students go to white but only adding nine African American students can’t really be called ‘integrating’ in my opinion.

            The emotions in Elizabeth and Hazel are so raw and would be so difficult to deal with. I can’t imagine being one of those African American students being brave enough to go to Central in the first place and then being strong enough to stay and deal with all the abuse.

Intersection of race, class and gender

How does one remain dignified in the face of adversity?

"Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed, her teeth clenched as if to bite, Hazel shouted, then shouted some more : 'Go home nigger! Go back to A -'
Click.
'-frica!'
Will Counts had his picture." (pp. 37)

I believe in after reading this book, researching the historical content was in order. Surprisingly, this story isn't new to me. Somehow, I've managed to recall this, as well as the earlier 1954 Brown vs Board of Education being a definitive part of my schooling at some point. However, memory can be altered over time, which is why it is always important to research the facts.

Here's an interesting link:
The Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture

According to the syllabus, it is the intention of this blog to stimulate analysis of the weekly class readings in relation to a greater picture. The excerpt from Why are all the Black kids sitting together in the cafeteria? begins by pointing out the ignorance that exists when questioning whether racism still exists.

Racism: "'system of advantage based on race'" (Wellman, as quoted in Tatum, pp. 7)
Prejudice: "preconceived judgement or opinion, usually based on limited information" (Tatum, pp 5)

Merely taking any state or governmental exam or survey will prove that racism is alive in merely providing a check box that asks a participant to define their race. Institutions of higher learning are also guilty of trying to fill established quotas to make sure theirs is a diverse place where the minimum ratios of race are balanced. Trying not to seem discriminatory only adds fuel to the flames:

"He had wanted to express his solidarity with the black students, but didn't know quite how: he'd considered joining the black pastors accompanying the children, but feared that might seem paternalistic" (Margolick, pp. 51).

Reverend Cartwright would later tell Elizabeth "how much he admired her, and of the shame he felt as a white person" (pp. 70). What is the white man's guilt? That is my question that I walk away from this week.


Personal Reflection:
I grew up in the Pacific Northwest in a bi-racial family; that is to say my siblings have a Black father while I have a White one. Our mother was Hispanic, which lead to various degrees of confusion among our classmates as we never quite fit into an specific category. I remember when I was in high school, I was labeled Mexican because Puerto Rico was merely a distant island where JLO hailed from. Our school was predominately White, then Black, Asian, and lastly, Hispanic/Native American taking up est. 6%. I had no Hispanic friends simply because there weren't any in my school that I had the chance to meet. It wasn't until I went to college in New York City that I met a group that I would identify with racially.

Interestingly enough, I met these girls before school started because our college offered a MultiCultural Weekend where students of color could come stay for the weekend and get to know other perspective students...of color. I never thought about it until now, but what exactly was the point of this? To encourage us to get a head start as minorities - to change the statistics working against us? To show us that there would be others like us, even when White students from our graduating class would appear that upcoming fall? Did White students have a similar weekend? At the time I was grateful for the opportunity to visit my future school free of charge (even airfare was provided), especially being the first in my family to enroll in a 4-year school, but what did it cost me?

Culture & Identity

When asked to make art about my cultural and identity I drew a blank. It seemed like such a broad topic -- what aspect of my culture or myself should I include? I began with supplies that were very familiar to me and began to draw an image that was familiar, a face. After all, it is about me. From that emerged a picture about the duality of my culture and identity. My "family tree" grows from my face and spreads across two countries. I am American. I was born and raised in the US. But I am also Cuban. I was raised by a Cuban family, with Cuban customs and traditions. I spoke Spanish as a first language and I celebrate Noche Buena instead of Christmas Eve. But, I wasn't born there. My family came to this country in 1969. My mom was a child when she left Cuba but she was raised in a city, albeit in the US, that allowed her parents to own a small business and not speak english. So to some I am not quite Cuban, to others I am not quite American. So what am I?

At times I feel equally stretched at both sides. My family says I'm Cuban but I am Americanized. I went away to college, when many of my friends stayed home at their mothers' request. But at the same time, going away was the first time I felt that I was any different than everyone else around me. The first time that checking the box stating that I am a minority made sense. In a way it made me feel special, I got to explain the food and traditions, my friends back home understood whether they were Cuban or not. The problem is I don't look like what some would call stereotypically hispanic and that works against me in trying to defend my culture. I look White, so I must be. People forget I speak Spanish or that my upbringing was any different than theirs. Growing up in Miami it was assumed. If I was not Cuban, then I was at least Latina, people spoke to me in Spanish because they assumed I would answer. So even if I was seen as an Americanized version, that part of me was always seen, I was just like everyone else. Outside of Miami, I have to keep reminding people, I feel like I mention my culture and traditions more than I ever did growing up and I find myself feeling like a spokesperson.

I feel this sense of duality stretches across all areas of my identity, not just my culture. As we filled out the sheet about target/non-target groups and took the steps forward or backward I found myself going back and forth. Growing up I was never without anything I needed but we never had much extra and I was always aware that money was an issue. I grew up with a single parent, who was not college educated, both steps back, but both are parts that taught me a lot and made me who I am today. With the help of my extended family, we never had to live in a bad neighborhood. My mom always had a flexible job that allowed her to pick me up from school, and I always went to good schools. I didn't go to private school but I went to magnet art public schools. But to say that everything was perfect undermines my mother's struggle and to say that things were tough does the same. It was neither. Although I fall into several target categories, I was actually quite privileged. Culture and identity don't fit neatly into little boxes. There is a history behind each answer, and I feel that often the history is what makes us who we are rather than the answers themselves. The problem is that the boxes cause stereotypes about privilege that often people don't look beyond.

Elizabeth & Kurt

This weekend I watched a lot of Glee. I also read Elizabeth and Hazel. In both I was saddened by the hatred and inequality both historically and in the present.

Reflecting on many of the past posts, I agree with Chance, that the images in the reading hit me the hardest. Along with the in depth account of Elizabeth walking to the school, alone and unaware. Turned away. I almost wanted to stop reading, wondering how on earth she wanted to go back there. As for Glee - I was watching the past season 2 in which Kurt is bullied for being the only openly gay individual at the school. Daily he had to stand up to hate. Yes this is a television show, but this also happens all the time. High school is tough time in everyone's life, but to have to deal with hatred and racism, sexism, and bullying would change one's life forever. Kurt left the school to attend an all male private school... As for Elizabeth, I am not far enough along in the reading to see how long she withstands the acts of racism (and can't wait to find the answer).

Throughout my school years there was only one African American in my class. Always the only one, kindergarden through high school. How it must have felt to be her, I wish I knew. Reading about Elizabeth and the "nine" I kept thinking of my classmate. There were also two girls that had a close relationship that I recall everyone else stating that they were together and making fun of them for "supposedly" being bisexual. It was such a small school that if you were "different" you stuck out even more. The topic of everyone else's gossip. I haven't thought so much lately of my rural, White, hometown & upbringing until this reading.

As Jessica was also mentioning, there are still so many inequalities today. The fact that not everyone has the right to marry who they wish is disheartening. It makes me question if I want to get married, I've had the thought that until everyone else can, I don't want to. Not that my own decision would make any sort of statement, but I hope that one day we all can marry who we love.

Racism Depicted in Fine Art

In undergraduate I had a professor, Michale Ray Charles, who painted about his experiences with racism and the historical and contemporary effects of racism on the portrayal of African Americans in art and popular culture. I have included some paintings here for reference.

While he was not the only African American professor in the art department of the University of Texas, he was certainly one of a very small number. Because of his visibility, artistic talent, and potentially controversial subject matter, he became somewhat of a mentor to several minority students I knew.

The part about reading Elizabeth and Hazel so far that most inspires me is its testament to the raw power of images. Whether you are offended or uplifted by them, images have a very strong pull in our culture, and sometimes they can incite us to rally around a cause more passionately than words.

Some images and the ideas they represent do a lot of damage and encourage a culture of fear and hatred towards people of different skin colors, socio-economic levels, and lifestyles. Fortunately for us, we can also use image-making to help create a visual world that expresses our hurt, anger, and triumph over injustices, thereby doing some sort of healing within ourselves and within our communities.

Looking at the US history from outsider's eye

I wrote a long personal history to explain my identity that I find myself in America, because that is where my perspective departs from. I am an outsider( a Korean woman) who is mostly educated in American (educational) system.

I had studied US history instead of Korean history when I was in the high school. I learned this nation's past history as an international student. It was the hardest class at that time--not because of all the memorization and tests about the facts, but because of the nature of my background--I was a blank person in American history. The dark part of US discrimination, separate but equal etc. were so new to me, because I didn't have any idea or impression about America other than being 'one of the largest country in the world' with the association of ' American dream' until then. US history was just a hard subject matter--not directly related to me at that time.

However, as I grew up and spent more years in the schools in the States, I started to realize things that I wasn't aware of. For example, my high school was a very segregated one. There were total of only 3 African American students in my school back then. ( by the way, teachers were all white except Japanese teacher.) One of them was my classmate whose father was in the high-rank position in a well-known shoe company in the States. Basically, my school was segregating students' population by parent's income or living status or social class or whatever you call it (like all other Prep schools do).

Also, the city of Portland is a segregated place by a Columbia river. I rarely saw African American when I was growing up there. It is one of the white dominated cities--mostly middle and above class especially in the north side where I went to school. At that time, I was too young too notice about these little bits of intentional/unintentional divisions or unspoken/untold discriminations. I liked my school and friends where I didn't have to face the direct racial incidents like I did in New Zealand. For example, girls at my junior high knocked my door whenever they passed the hallway in the dorms.

The reading of Elizabeth and Hazel reminded me of my high school history class, because it depicted the scenes that I had a hard time imagining it at that time. The history textbook didn't include subjective explanations and I didn't have clear picture of what that really was or meant. As an outsider to this history, I didn't have basic shared elements. I only assumed that it would have been challenging  to be an African American woman in 1950s.

However, I can relate to some of these feelings, because I have incidents in my life when I was an angry Korean girl due to the racial discrimination in America. It happened at public places, restaurants and department stores, etc. with spoken or unspoken words, gestures and eyes, etc. In fact, my mom and I still get this look--'you Asian, why are you here?' at place we visit. I remember how I felt the strange embarrassment at the moment when my white friend said, "she is with us" and I understood the secret meaning of it.

Moreover, I felt racialism against Asians not only from white people whom I was usually surrounded by but also from African Americans and Hispanics. At first, I thought it was because they had repressed (historical) memory so that they were doing the similar things to the other races. But now I think that the counter-racism from maginalized population in the States to the other minority (or vunerable races/ gender, etc.)  reflects the nature of human. Humans (like animals) want to be dominant and powerful among(against) the others (and other groups=races). I believe this explains all the worst things happened in the history of a mankind.

Actually, I think America is constantly putting lots of efforts to make things better and to change, regarding this issue of discrimination and separateness. I think that it's hard because most of all people regardless of their race, gender and background etc. have behavioral tendencies respecting certain elements from others like jobs, colors and clothes, etc. because humans are perceptive, prejudiced and have own prides. Also, I believe that it's a long-time-process for America, because of its own political structure and size of county itself.

Discovering Race

I remember the moment in my life when I discovered race. I was probably about 5 or 6 and I was playing with one of my neighbors, Kelly and Cindy, and they said that Aaron and Susan's parents were not their real parents, that they were adopted. I cannot remember if I understood what adoption meant but I do remember feeling confused: How could Aaron and Susan's parents not be their biological parents? When I expressed my confusion, Kelly just laughed at me. She said that how could they possibly be their real parents, they didn't look anything alike! That's because Aaron and Susan were Indian, while their parents were white.

I was still confused when in first grade, my teacher announced to my class that we would have a visitor from Japan. I was so excited because I was Japanese, too. I was thinking whether or not I should share this with the class but then my teacher said that we had someone in our own class who was also from Japan (I had moved to the States the year before). I looked around the room because I had no idea one of my classmates was Japanese, like me. I still remember how red my face felt when my teacher called my name. How did she know that I was Japanese, I wondered, completely mystified.

We learn that everyone looks different. Then we learn that these differences separate people into races. But at what point do we learn racism? At what point do we learn that certain people, based on how they look, are better or worse than us? How do we learn to hate? I wondered when Hazel learned about race, about racism, and when she learned to hate. I wondered whether Hazel, if she had grown up in a different place or time, would she think the same things that she thought? If I had grown up in a different place or time, would I think the same things I think?

Hate is still very much alive today. It was not only a part of Elizabeth and Hazel's adolescent worlds. I read recently in USA Today that 11% of polled Americans believed interracial marriages would bring negative consequences to our country. In 2012 and as a part of an interracial family, this statistic really shocked and saddened me. There are politicians who are running to become the leader of our nation who believe that certain people should not have the right to marry. There are people, children, who will bully peers until they feel their only escape is suicide. How do we learn that hate is something worth pursuing? More importantly, how do (re)learn that it's not?

Identity VS Culture

I think of my identity as a reflection or portrait of who I am. I see my culture as a way of viewing my identity; a sometimes slightly distorted view of what makes as well as shapes me. I used a serving spoon, partly out of desperation after not finding any mirrors around the room, in the closet, or in my bag. It was the most reflective thing I could find, it was a decent size, and it would partially distort my reflection without making it unrecognizable. That last part being the most important. The way I define myself may be be different than the way others would define me, but no matter how distorted the view, I am still recognized by the way I present myself to others.

Identity & Culture

My identity is constantly influenced, shaped, formed and framed by my culture. I decided on a tissue paper collage specifically for the process of layering. Both my identity and culture have been formed in layers from both my personal past experiences and my families history. There are aspects of myself visibly on the surface as well as hidden underneath layers of history. For me, the shape of a circle represents unity and mobility. Without my culture my identity would not exist, yet they are fluid aspects of myself that shift and change depending on time and place.

-Laura

Personal story configures one's identity.

I drew an orchid when we were asked to make a reflection artwork of our identities. I didn't hesitate--I knew what I was going to do. This kind of traditional sumi-ink painting (well I did with water color and tissue paper...) reflects Korean culture and tradition. The last empire--Chosun dynasty had strong Confucian influence like many other East Asia countries. The Confucian influence in thoughts and values among Korean people and culture is still substantial.

Nobody particularly read full Confucian texts these days unless they're studying old-literature. I first read the whole texts in 2006 when I started learning the traditional sumi-ink painting after my undergraduate back in Korea. I thought reading these would help filling my cultural gap that I missed as a Korean, and help understanding of traditional paintings. His view is idealized and doesn't have much things to do with today's society, but  I loved the suggested way of being--being the "proper man," and humanity.

I left Korea when I was 15. I finished my junior high in New Zealand where I first learned about the "otherness." My adolescent year in New Zealand was not so pretty. I didn't speak English; had no friends or had few Korean upper classmates who were mean to me; felt racism in the dorms. I was a deaf and mute in most of my classes, except math and arts. I loved my art class and art teacher. I met Jasper Johns' painting for the first time. Whenever I drew/painted something, she showed pictures of paintings that I never saw or learned in art classes in Korea.

I moved to United States for high school. I took my 1st TOFEL to enroll a well-established private school( As an international student, you can't go to public school.)  The start of high school was good.  Oregonians (Portlanders) are generally well-mannered. There were international students from many other countries--Japan, Korea, China, Hong Kong, Vietnam, Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, France, Mexico, German, Bulgaria, Arab, etc.  We all lived in the small dorms like a family. My roommate was from Seattle. We got along well. I started the 1st year with a delighted feeling. I got English name--Jeanne. (My dad's old Jewish friend's French wife made it for me after my Korean name Jung Eun. I hated mis-pronouned my name in New Zealand. I didn't know it was a French name until 2004 though.) I also had a nickname--smiley, because I smiled all the time. I had a settled happy freshman year.

However, clouds got in my way as I started my sophomore year. I saw the unfairness and unspoken words and ways of discrimination between rich and poor students in circumstance of prohibiting private school rules. My host family kid who is from one of the wealthiest families in Portland area got away and had detentions. But my roommate got kicked out. She was only in the presence with those kids who were prohibiting the rule--She was on the scholarship. I was sad but powerless, and wordless.

Also, I had a hard time with my parents because I had an American boyfriend. They were overacting and worried. So, I broke up with him to avoid fights with them. Then I lost my good-American friends--because I was not his girlfriend any more. My school was from PK to high school so some kids were friends from 4 years old. Those kids cluttered together, and my ex was one of them. I belonged to no groups.  In fact, this made me to use my 1-hour free period for art studio to paint. If I didn't have paintings from those hours and didn't have an art teacher who constantly photographed my paintings and made slides from them, I probably didn't even think of transferring to art in undergraduate and not here right now. I guess that was the beginning that I unconsciously used art as therapy for myself and tried to find my identity through it.

By the way, there was another personal incident. I was almost raped by someone graduated from my school. I developed panic attacks, anxiety, and depression. Actually, I didn't have part of memory from it. Recently, I remembered them all. Nobody knew what was going on at that time. I had panic attacks and went to emergency one night. School wanted me to go to mental institution in Boston or attend other school because of my health issue. Outraged my parent came to the States. Once my dad called the lawyer for the meeting, school agreed that I would only move out from the dorms. At that time, I wondered what if I was a kid from wealthy American family (like my host family), because school never investigated anything fully, but clearly they just didn't want the responsibility of any situation where they can be liable. I understand their point of perspectives now.

So it was my sophomore year in high school when I started thinking about this "identity."I didn't belong any where. I felt distance from people or friends when I went back to Korean for summer. Certainly, I didn't belong to America(--school, friends, etc.)  It was not the language that put me apart from engaging with others. The whole incident and situational factors complicated my thoughts. The constructed idea around organization, the rules and responsibility as a whole group didn't want the risk of having me, and I was hurt as much as I loved being in the new school in the States. Human being are socially constructed, and our identities are built upon the presence others with our personal histories. 

Over the years, living in-between worlds, I never fully developed a strong identity that belonged to any of sides. (you might notice many grammatical errors in writing.  I make the same mistakes in Korean too. My Aunt who is a writer in Korea, always makes fun of my Korean-writing skills, because I use those old hard words(Chinese character based like Latin based English words) but mix Korean with English grammar. I guess I mix grammar together in both languages. Thank you for keeping up with reading this and Pardon if you find a hard time reading this. Back to the point--) So it is my effort to learn both constantly, because I learned that everything is constantly changing. People come and go; norms change; situation and enviroenment change, etc.--just like the wind changes its air every second. People's view, mind, thought, values, belifs, etc. change as well. Our identities change because we have different responsibilities as a student, daughter, woman, therapist, etc.  However, I have an intention to be close with Korean side, just because it is where my root comes from.

I talked about Confucius ideology at the beginning. Men (well, only noble men--they had aristocrat system) were encoraged to learn and read this old texts, however women were not. At that period, women were not encouraged to learn, read or write; but to do sewing, patch-working, embroidering and housework staff. However, some women did these paintings of orchid, chrysanthemum, bamboo or Japanese apricot flower--that were part of those noble men's practice or hobby. I found this interesting, because art was a permitted and shared part for structuring identity for both men and women in Old Korea. The painting of these four subject matters were usually composed with written verses (like poems). Women had freedom to express under certain rules of paintings. In addition, these subject matters had symbolic meanings behind them. I thought this was a brillient way of incorporating art for lives. This is why I like practicing them in a way of identifying myself as a Korean woman.