Monday, December 14, 2009

Noxious New York

Throughout this reading, I consistently found myself thinking, if not the poor neighborhoods, where should the unwanted waste go? Sze notes that the City of New York has never found a “…satisfactory way of handling New York City’s effluence, from solid waste disposal to sewage” and considering the sheer volume generated, this is of no surprise. During the 1980s, environmental justice reached a high point, with community-based groups protesting the West Harlem incinerator to the Sunset Park sludge treatment plant. At the time of publication, both neighborhoods have yet to establish what should be done in their stretches of derelict waterfront property.

Sze examines the actions and reactions of intended disposal sites, particularly the West Harlem Environmental Action (WE ACT) and Organization of Waterfront Neighborhoods (OWN). Ultimately, these groups are pushing for community-oriented research and planning, rather than information and directives coming from the people on top.

The conclusion of the book irritated me, because as nice as it is to talk about what these organizations have done and seek to do, garbage does have to go somewhere. Jersey doesn’t want it, Brooklyn doesn’t want it and throwing it into the ocean hurts everyone in the end. Particularly idealistic is the idea of equal distribution of environmental benefits and burdens. I snickered out loud because I’m certain, any WE ACT sympathizers residing on Central Park East/Fifth Avenue would immediately organize their own, and much more effective, protest if a sludge treatment plan came to their neighborhood.

Barrio Dreams

I don’t believe true cultural pluralism, the maintenance of distinct cultural identities, is possible in the United States, or rather, within the nation-state system at all. With a few exceptions, culture is intricately linked with specific physical spaces. Thus, unless cultural pluralism is purposefully planned, when the cultures come together on one land, one must dominate or a new one should form. In the case of El Barrio, the Puerto Ricans have managed to assert their cultural identity. But maintenance of this identity has required active effort and action by its constituents, fighting against consumer-centric neo-liberal policies by the City of New York.

Davila mentions that East Harlem/El Barrio has historically welcomed gentrification, a process measured by the level of domestic comfort and the openness of improved cultural places. For the Latinos who have not fled El Barrio, gentrification has been seen as a move towards an improved, middle class Latino neighborhood. But in the wake of the Koch’s administration, El Barrio found itself overburdened with special-needs and public housing, leading the middle class flee. Developers have manipulated the neighborhood’s to meet their economic desires and objectified the neighborhood’s culture as a selling point.

To that, I ask why is preservation of this cultural identity, as tied to the actual space of El Barrio, necessary or even feasible? Yes, this is a place where people grew up, where things happened, but so are most places. What about the cultures that came before the Puerto Rican? Only art has the power to convey the memory of culturally threatened spaces like this one, otherwise, groups like Mujeres del Barrio are fighting a battle they know they will lose. East Harlem doesn’t belong to the Puerto Ricans; East Harlem doesn’t belong to anyone. It looks like a lot of nostalgia here and if you think I’m wrong, please correct me and explain why it is necessary. I just don’t think cultural assertion should be tied to a place any longer, that’s just selfish.

A Fire in Fontana

I particularly enjoyed this line from “A Fire in Fontana”: “There was an investigation, of course. The official conclusion was that probably the man had set the gasoline fire himself, and the case was closed”. Otherwise though I found Yamamoto’s short story captivating enough, her passivity was enraging. But after finishing the story and stepping away for a few minutes, I realized how the reader’s frustration with her lack of action is integral to the story’s objective: to make one feel as she did all those years. Nevertheless, her first paragraph was wise in saying that she wouldn’t go so far as to say she became black, because that indeed, is too far.

Hong’s essay reacts to “A Fire in Fontana” and suggests that the story provides a new link between Japanese and black Americans, by both groups being denied property rights. Her analysis of the seemingly minor details reveals that Yamamoto, in more ways than one, is caught between worlds. I found her insight into the "objectivity" of television news in the coverage of the Watts Riots particularly poignant: "The lack of respect for property justifies the denial of property rights".

American Apartheid

As I read American Apartheid, I was reminded of a mostly black party I once attended in Crown Heights, where I spent several hours nodding along to whatever was said to me…I couldn’t understand the slang, I was only able to pick out bits and pieces of conversation. Apart from not knowing the common slang, I had to pinch myself all night to refrain from correcting every ‘to be’ that wasn’t conjugated.

The financial discrepancies between suburban Connecticut and Crown Heights are visibly apparent. True to the racialization of space, these two locales of my life exemplify the exchange value of white space and use value of black space. Shapiro’s essay illuminated a difference I hadn’t noticed: the crucial differences between wealth and income, differences drawn, for the most part, along the lines of white and black. Worse yet, he words, “holy shit” flew out of my lips when Shapiro revealed the “…45% rate of disparate treatment based on race” in credit card pre-approval.

The use of redlining and other discriminatory practices wasn’t surprising to learn about, after all, how else could the ghetto turn out the way it has? As with the prior week of readings, I was enlightened to the systematic planning, this time of poverty concentration and segregation. As Massey points out, the ghetto is a “permanent feature of black residential life”, rather than a transitional stage as ethnic enclaves had been for other minorities.

...I came away with too many thoughts about the common and accepted use of the term, "minority".

Whiteness as a Property

What struck me the most about this week’s readings was Harris’ dissection of Brown v. the Board of Education, a case I distinctly remember studying and using back in high school to mark the end of legal racism. In the wake of Plessy v. Ferguson, Harris argues that though Brown formally dismantled whiteness as a property, Brown “…sheltered and protected [whites’] expectations of continued race-based privilege” (Harris 1753). In the court’s attempt to declare equality amongst races, it validated the whites as the preferred, normative race against which all other races must compare.

Pulido’s “Rethinking Environmental Racism”, I found simply disheartening. Neither the presence of toxic waste nor general uneven distribution of pollutants is new information, because, I mean, who hasn’t seen Erin Brockovich. But what I saw in Erin Brockovich appeared to be an isolated incident, where the possibility of a mistake still existed. Reading this essay, however, struck down this benefit of doubt. The maps of Los Angeles, namely Figure 3, reveal that toxic waste and disposal facilities are exclusive to neighborhoods populated by minorities. There are none in white neighborhoods.

Monday, November 16, 2009

What Is a Camp?

This week's reading illuminated the duplicitous nature of the 'camp', which was further exacerbated when a character on the TV show I was watching (Gossip Girl) threatens, "...What happens at camp doesn't have to stay at camp." Though it often does, hence the purpose of creating camps in the first place.

Agamben explores the modern development and historic application of concentration camps, beginning with the Schutzhaft of Prussian government in the mid-19th century. Here, the Schutzhaft meant 'protective custody', unique in that it was internment outside the jurisdiction of state and martial law. The attrocities commited within state-regulated camps are allowed, even approved, because camps are "...born out of the state of exception" (Agamben). They are the physical realization where exception becomes the rule of thumb, unregulated by the laws and common sense of 'normal space'.

I found my jaw dropping as I read through "Where Is Guantanamo?" The acts committed against detained Arab and Muslim terrorists are still part of recent memory, but those committed against the immigrating Haitians and Cubans constituted new knowledge. Forced HIV testing? Three years in a barbed wire shack? 30,000 Cubans? Moreover, the arrogance and deviousness of the Bush administration in declaring Cuba's "ultimate sovereignty" was new as well, as I had been unaware of the language that dictated the sovereignty of Guantanamo. I was reminded as I was reading; Obama shut down Guantanamo. But I found myself wondering, if Guantanamo is indeed at such a convenient nexus between Latin America and America, the border of the U.S. amidst a communist regime, is it actually closed? Or is it simply easier to say it's gone and pretend the inhumane containment of humans never existed?

Either way, it's like summer camp, where tweens are thrown together at random for a summer and eventually let loose. What happens at camp stays at camp. But it doesn't have to.

Monday, September 21, 2009

How I Imagine the Proceedings of Landmark Cases

In re Ah Yup (1878)
Ah Yup: Let me become a citizen.
The White Man: But you're...you're Asian...
Ah Yup: So?
The White Man: (shrugging) You're not white.
Ah Yup: But I want to be an American.
The White Man: But you're Asian.
Ah Yup: So??
The White Man: (sighs deeply) So, Ah Yup...(whispers) you're not white. (Pats Ah Yup on the back)

In re Rodriguez (1897)
(In the jury room, a giant photo of Rodriguez is displayed)
Juror #1: He looks...
Juror #2: Suspicious.
Juror #1: He could be a tanned Texan.
Juror #3: Or Native American...I bet people think he's black sometimes.
Juror #2: Or a job-stealing pot dealer.
Juror #1: Nah, he's not black.
Juror #2: He's definitely not white.
Juror #1: But that white guy vouched for him.
Juror #3: Oh yeah? Who vouched for the white guy?
Juror #2: I dunno, he's white.
Juror #1: Right. I mean...well. Mexico is all sorts of mixed, I don't have a problem with his naturalization. He's nothing we don't like. At least he doesn't have a King. Or an Emperor.
Juror #3: Huh...Historically, I guess, Mexico is kind of similar to us.
(they ponder this notion)
Juror #2: ...except it's Mexico.

It's like bickering children.

The readings this week focused on Asian and Latino racial development in the United States during and since the 1920s, during the reign of the national origins quota system. Kim and Genova both argue that Asians and Latinos need "...to confront the stubborn intransigence of an 'American' racial order defined in black and white" (Genova 15). Kim specifically addresses the "racial triangulation" of Asians, caught between the encouraging blacks and disparaging blacks. Mae Ngai, author of Impossible Subjects, centers on the growth of U.S. nationalism following WWI and the problems of illegal immigration that developed.

I find little to disagree with in these readings; the authors present their arguments with substantive evidence based in law and history. One particular line, Ngai writes, "nationalism's ultimate defense is sovereignty" (11). From there, she goes on to dissect the rise of international borders, the restrictive U.S. immigration policies that followed and the inevitable upsurge in illegal immigration. Pride leads to arrogance, arrogance leads to selfishness, selfishness leads to a giant, climb-able wall along the Texas-Mexico border. When the borders were relatively open, illegal aliens existed only on paper. Then having papers--certifying one as a human with a home--became a requirement. Only when you [foreigner] prove to us [Americans] you have a home somewhere else will we consider letting you stay. It's Lockean theory of property gone absolutely haywire.

But I don't think a country like the U.S. could have developed any other way (given the history of the world up until then). As much as it is difficult and often painful to revisit the aspects of our country's past, marred by xenophobia and hatred, it is ultimately only a reflection on ourselves and the nature of humankind, as the future will be. Within these readings and from the responses I've read thus far, there appears to be a need to compensate and rectify the wrongs of the U.S.: to be inclusive and understanding of everyone, all the time. Yet from what I can recollect from high school history classes, every major power--in space and time--has been wary of and restricted access to foreigners, a natural inclination when you have a lot and other people don't.

November last year, I was having a drink with my dad, who moved here in the 1980s. I bring him up for a few reasons, which may take a few more posts to address: a) he has a number of black and Latino friends; b) he still identifies with Taiwan despite residency here for nearly three decades; c) he's Chinese (surprise!). This particular evening, my dad was expounding his theories on the United States and I asked him if he thought he was ever trying to be white. He frowned and shook his head. I laid out some facts, like the predominately white suburb of CT we live in, his growing interest in golf, his indignance at the Obama race question. He cut me off, saying, "It was never about being white or black. It was about moving up in the world. If it were another group that had the luxury activities and the big houses, I'd have done the same thing."

Kim proposes a "field of racial positions", namely to reform racial hierarchy to place Asians in a triangulation between Whites and Blacks. This, I resented heavily. Reforming the racial hierarchy, possibly with the best of intentions, only serves to further solidify and bind this country to its racial traditions because it is still a hierarchy. Moreover, it positions all non-white groups to strive to be "white", associating success and wealth with a color of skin. The category of "white" should be "blank".

As the conversation went on, I asked him if he was resentful of policies regarding Asians in this country; his parents tried to flee to the U.S. during WWII but could not and ended up in Taiwan. At this, he just laughed. "There's no point in being mad about the way things are, T., as long as you can remember they rarely stay that way," he mused. "You know, it's absolutely...absolutely amazing you've got an Ethiopian place next to a sushi restaurant. People forget how young humans are...these things take time."