Category Archives: Letter to the Editor

Economic Sacrifice is an American Staple

Letter to the Editor

Response to this:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/outlook/2020/03/19/americans-must-relearn-sacrifice-time-coronavirus/

Joseph Stieb tells us that more than post-truth politics or lack of paid leave, our roadblock to an effective pandemic response is that Americans identify as consumers more than citizens. Stieb provides examples like Reagan’s “less is not enough” policy and our all-volunteer military to illustrate the extent to which Americans have not been asked to sacrifice involuntarily in recent history.

In the face of the global pandemic, Stieb argues, Americans need to relearn how to sacrifice. Commenter boudica responds: “You don’t seem to understand that at least half of us have not recovered from the crash of ‘07… People scrim [sic] and scrape to pay rent, grocery bills, utility bills, car payments and repairs and education..You are one of the well-off lecturing the rest of us who are struggling about “sacrificing.’” Harsh, but boudica has a point.

Consumerism is a contributing factor to the U.S.’s pandemic response, but Stieb needs to take into account another factor: Americans who have nothing to sacrifice because the system of capitalistic consumption itself has pushed them to the ragged edge of survival. Stieb is correct in the sense that the U.S. isn’t used to involuntary sacrifice; but it is the wealthiest Americans who are least used to it. Sure, we have an all-volunteer military, but the prohibitive cost of college makes the G.I. Bill the only realistic way for many low-income Americans to get an education. Bush encouraged Americans to revive the airlines after 9/11 by taking vacations.; that could only apply to consumers who had been on paid leave and had the pocket money to do so. Americans in poverty understand sacrifice. The responsibility of cultural reform falls to the wealthy.

The “Perfect” Caricature

Letter to the Editor

Rodrigues claims that Apu Nahasapeemapetilon of The Simpsons is simply a comedic caricature that needs to be modified to keep up with modern times. I argue that Apu is in fact perpetuating a faulty perception of South Asian cultures that is not only offensive, but also dangerous. With The Simpson’s wide sphere of influence, several South Asian performers’ experiences have been tainted by the representation of Apu.

An illegal immigrant eliciting laughter, Apu is the “perfect” caricature of an Indian shopkeeper with octuplets in an arranged marriage—perfect to fuel xenophobic sentiments. With a last name that is a frustrating tongue twister and a ridiculous over-the-top accent, Apu is a fallacious, noxious pastiche of South Asian stereotypes. Is it still an overreaction for Hank Azaria, the voice of Apu, to step down? Hank Azaria is right. The outrage is more than warranted—it is necessary. Even more so, his portrayal strengthens the first-world conception of foreigners coming to the country, stealing jobs and raising large families and “invading” America.

Since 1989, The Simpsons has a wide viewer base tracking its 30 seasons and has been a pioneer in exploiting negative racial stereotypes. The show has thus fuelled intimidation on school grounds, resentment in office spaces, discrimination in employment opportunities.

Is The Simpsons the first or the only series to use ethnic clichés for entertainment? Certainly not. Yet, the attitude of the animated series is an ethically suspect choice, not a moral one. It is conformity of a concept that is politically incorrect, irrespective of changing times.

The Fox Network is under the misconception that all they need to do is tweak the characters that fuel racial stereotypes to adapt to the modern age. Xenophobia is not a modern concept—it is a timeless disease. It is high time the entertainment industry became sensitive to the consequences of creating these not-so-perfect caricatures.

 

Article: https://www.thenational.ae/arts-culture/television/apu-in-the-simpsons-is-everyone-overreacting-over-the-racial-stereotype-1.968381

Not In Between Anything

Letter to the Editor

Re:https://thewellesleynews.com/2019/12/05/in-between-identities-navigating-being-mixed-at-wellesley-college/ 

To the Editor:

According to Jahanara, former president of the mixed student organization “Fusion,” being mixed means “not culturally belonging,” or being in-between cultures. As a mixed person, I don’t feel in between anything: this doesn’t make me a traitor to “mixedness.”

There is no universal mixed experience. Some of us may feel we “don’t belong” to a specific group, while others feel at home in multiple cultures. These experiences are, of course, shaped by structures of power—anti-blackness, colorism, white supremacy—and often by colonial histories. Boiling all of this down to a general “mixed” identity, one that we must all rally around in a specific mixed cultural organization, is not only facile, but asks us to bond not over who we are, but who we are not. 

The fact of the matter is that many mixed students belong to what Jahanara deems “monocultural” orgs (an inaccurate denomination given that most of these orgs are multi-cultural, and simply focus on a group of related cultures). She asserts, without evidence or detail, that such orgs “intensify racial or cultural stereotypes.” While a fair critique could be made, Jahanara instead pits “monocultural” orgs against the multicultural Fusion, a space presumably free of such stereotypes. Meanwhile, her entire basis for Fusion is a stereotype in itself: the stereotype of the insecure mixed person that belongs nowhere. 

I attended a couple Fusion meetings my first year, but I didn’t stick around: I soon realized that beyond the imaginary of “not belonging,” I had little to talk about with other people there. I chose instead to join WAWA where, despite not being “fully” Arab (whatever the hell that means), I was welcomed with open arms.

Do I Speak Your Language? Only Because Someone Told Me I Should

Letter to the Editor

To The Editor: 

Bénédicte de Montlaur, in “Do You Speak My Language? You Should,” addresses the decline of language education in America, arguing that the U.S. lags behind the rest of the world in linguistic competency at a time when knowing a foreign language has become increasingly important. The effects of this deficit, she says, will be felt for generations to come. What Montlaur neglects to take into account is the politics that accompany language education. How does the language curriculum privilege certain kinds of knowledge while pushing others to the side? We need to rethink language education while examining how educational curricula signal an unspoken hierarchy in what should and shouldn’t be taught. 

In the world as described by Montlaur, educational institutions are lacking both funding and interest, which has caused language curriculum to suffer from a utilitarian approach. This scarcity of resources means universities and schools must choose what languages are taught based on how many people speak the language and how relevant it is rather than satisfying the hunger of curious language-learners. More “niche” languages, from Japanese to American Sign Language, are often only options at the post-secondary level, and even then, suffer from small department sizes, receive less funding, and enjoy fewer course offerings. Departments that teach French or Spanish, although modest in size, still receive more resources and attract higher numbers of students than departments that fall outside the canon of Western languages. 

Why learn a language? Because someone said you should? Or because you genuinely want to access and understand a culture other than your own? Only in the latter does it make sense for you to speak someone else’s language.

This is How Not to Make an Argument

Letter to the Editor

To the Editor:

 In his New York Times opinion piece, This is How Scandinavia Got Great, David Brooks makes a deceptive cultural comparison between the educational systems in Scandinavia and the United States, purposefully simplifying the factors involved in order to make a polemical point.

Brooks attributes Scandinavia’s success to a holistic education that impresses upon students a balanced sense of responsibility towards the needs of the individual and of society. He compares this to America’s educational system which he claims focuses on “the transmission of specialized skill sets,” and doesn’t instill a high level of social trust in students. His assertions about “social trust” are far too simple. According to Brooks, Nordic countries enjoy a high level of social trust, but, in the United States, it has been on the decline for decades. Are we to assume that the US system of education is the only thing in today’s society that leads to low social trust? Are we to ignore the powerful influence of continued systematic oppression? 

By creating a false dichotomy, Brooks implies that either one receives a holistic education and contributes to high social trust or one receives a skill-set-focused education which results in low social trust. Implying that a different approach to education is what leads to more empathy and social consciousness is not proving it so. He dishonestly manipulates the evidence to fit his ideological needs. Doing so is not uncharacteristic of Brooks, though it is especially striking to sing praises to holistic education while feigning ignorance to our most pressing contemporary issues.

Re: “When did Wellesley give up on Wellesley?”: Starting at Home

Letter to the Editor

To The Editor: 

“When did Wellesley give up on Wellesley?” argues that Wellesley students are isolated in our “bubble” and apathetic toward the surrounding community. But in a time of global connectedness and incessant news, there is no isolation from crisis: there’s only prioritization. Want to know about isolation? Ask an alum about their experience at Wellesley with landlines and snail-mail. There was little way of knowing about the struggles of their hometowns or the nuances of global crises. Now, anyone with a Twitter account or internet access can keep up with current events around the world. 

And what a world it is. Rumors of World War III, economic crashes, and viral outbreaks are only too close to home. News sites careen from disaster to disaster leaving students adrift in hyperawareness. We know so much—this year the world may enter climate departure (when the coldest day reaches a temperature higher than the historic high), hate crimes are on the rise, the likelihood of entering the job market during an economic recession increases every day. Despite our excellent education, most of us feel unprepared to confront approaching catastrophes. So instead of flailing against the world at large, we’ve turned our gaze inwards. We prioritize by changing what we can in our sphere of influence. Global climate change? The US administration may not listen to us, tucked away as we are. But our administration might. Homelessness? We aren’t currently in a position to change global economic policy, but we can ensure that everyone on this campus has suitable living spaces. If we can’t make life in our little “bubble” better, how will we change the world?

Who’s afraid of the perfect accent?

Letter to the Editor

To the Editor, 

To the ears of Mr. Agudo, I speak perfect English; I have a varied vocabulary, can participate in daily interactions, can provide an exorbitant amount of detail in a retelling and can certainly hold my own in an argument. This shouldn’t be a surprise; I’ve been speaking the language since I was four. 

But in the eyes of a Jane Smith, a Karen from accounting or a Betsy in HR, I don’t. Looks of confusion and an “umm…what?” are a common response to non-Americans in America like me.  However, I am just as confused when I face the variations of words that sound nothing like I’d expect from their spelling; like hearing New Yorkers say “kuhohfee”. But the problem isn’t the confusion or the miscommunication. It’s the embarrassment, shame and discrimination that come with them, almost always placed on the non-American speaker.  

In England, anything that sounded remotely like Oprah was American; British English and American English are two quite different tongues. As I was checking into my hotel, the receptionist asked “Visiting from America aren’t you?” I wrote this one off as a fluke, thinking she knew I went to college in the U.S. That was, after all, the first time my accent was characterized as American and I was floored. But as the days went by, more and more non-Americans put a label on my forehead and threw me in the bag of “Americans.” 

I was embarrassed by the fact that I had an accent for a while. It was not American, so it wasn’t perfect, so what I said wasn’t worth hearing. I came to realize quite late in the game that outside the U.S. and Karen’s mind, it’s not just Jimmy Fallon that passes as American,  but also me.