Click here for original blog
Four years ago, I was awarded my Ph.D. in sociology from the University of North Texas and started my position as an assistant professor of sociology at the Community College of Baltimore County. During my 10 years in graduate school, I presented at only two conferences. I did not hold a position in any discipline-based organizations. Like many recent graduates, I was unsure where I fit in the wider discipline and how to get involved. I wasn’t the only one, as I heard this viewpoint frequently repeated when I talked to other young scholars. I now serve on various committees within the American Sociological Association, Eastern Sociological Society and Association of Black Sociologists, including the ASA Status Committee on Race and Ethnicity. And my involvement within the discipline has been no accident. It has been the result of cultivating a digital identity and being proactive. Over the past four years of attending academic conferences, I have noticed that the same people from the same institutions plan and present. This limits the number of different views and perspectives in the discipline, which in turn creates a narrow view that affects the funding, accessibility and understanding of the broad discipline. And oftentimes the reasons various people aren’t attending are quite practical and simple. For instance, I recently met with someone who claimed they were interested in going to conferences but did not because the organizers frequently didn’t take the concerns of individuals with physical disabilities into account. Also, although many organizations discount memberships and annual conference cost for adjuncts and people from teaching institutions, they do not offer travel assistance or only offer it on a competitive basis. That makes many conferences cost prohibitive. These experiences have led me to conclude that disciplines need more people with different voices involved in their activities. Most academics are not on the tenure track at top research universities or other elite higher education institutions. For example, at a recent conference, I told a colleague at a major research university that my institution had now switched to using open educational resources, or OER -- free textbooks and resources that can be used and reused by students and faculty. My colleague had never heard of OER. What this tells me is that disciplines are not seeing the full picture. Academe needs people from a variety of institutions and even scholars from outside higher education -- those who may work for the government, nonprofits, think tanks and other organizations -- to get involved in the decision-making process for awards, committees and planning. Some organizations recognize these issues and are attempting to address them. For example, the American Sociological Association is working to be more inclusive of sociologists from different institutions and with a variety of educational levels, socioeconomic backgrounds, types of experiences and expertise. My selection to the ASA Status Committee on Race and Ethnicity was in part because they wanted someone who worked at a community college and brought that experience to the committee. Beyond the factors I’ve outlined above, new Ph.D. graduates and other academics are often also uncertain about how to get started, particularly those at teaching institutions and community colleges. So, based on my conversations with early-career and community college sociologists, I will offer some suggestions for getting involved -- with the caveat that individual effort won’t necessarily overcome structural factors -- though even those academics who recognize structural problems and have often been the victims of them have a real desire to get involved. Here are some tips based on my experience. Be confident in your value regardless of where you are in your career. Many scholars suffer from impostor syndrome shortly after completing their degree and are unsure how to become engaged. But whether you're employed as an adjunct, at a community college, a research university or outside academe, you are a source of knowledge. You have distinct experience and insights that you can share with others. Develop a digital presence and reach out to fellow scholars. Twitter is one of the best ways to meet and interact; it helps keep you current on new research in your discipline as well as new trends and directions in it. I found that scholars on Twitter are generally open and willing to communicate, and I regularly tweet about them and their scholarship. Twitter makes it easy to learn about fellow scholars’ research (and they have likely learned about yours). It also can act as a support system because you can share and connect with people with similar interests -- some of whom are going through similar stresses professionally. Such connections may facilitate face-to-face meetings at conferences. Also, people recognize you from Twitter and often offer opportunities for conference presentations, fellowships, research projects and jobs. Join professional organizations and get involved. While your discipline’s flagship conference may be too expensive, you can often join less costly regional and state organizations. The dues for regional organizations can be reasonable (as low as $15), and they often have conferences within driving distances. Some even have sections or committees dedicated to underrepresented groups. For instance, the Eastern Sociological Society has a community college committee that promotes community college scholars and has dedicated sections for sociologists at community colleges during the annual conference. If you attend annual conferences, go to the business meetings. Get to know people and offer to volunteer. And even if you do not attend, email the organization’s officers and offer to volunteer. The more people involved, the more representative the decisions will be. Go to conference receptions, too. They are a great way to meet and make connections with scholars in a noncompetitive, less stressful (though it can feel like a middle school dance) environment. Even if you do not attend conferences, you can follow the new research and general discussions on social media through organization pages and hashtags on Twitter. Present your work whenever possible. There are lots of spaces to present your teaching or research. Most conferences only require an abstract. I have presented at various conferences, and most people are open, encouraging and supportive. In short, disciplinary organizations need to become more inclusive. But unless we in those disciplines push them, those changes won’t happen. You can make a difference.
1 Comment
Cuba's Unrelenting Revolutionary Spirit - Day 4 -Ode to Castro and Climbing the Racial Mountain5/27/2017 Before, I began discussing my day 4 experience in Cuba, let me answer one of the most frequently asked questions from my 30 and over friends, No I did not see Tupac while I was there lol. But I admit, I did not see most of the island so hold out hope. Today may have been my most important day in Cuba, because it was the day I really began to understand the revolutionary spirit of the people and Castro’s role in shaping it. Long vilified in the United States, I came to really understanding why he is so beloved in his country. My education on Castro appropriately occurred at the University of Habana. Arriving at the University of Habana, there are these long stairs leading into the main campus and you get the sense that you are walking onto Mount Olympus or Mount Sinai or Mount Kilimanjaro – some ancient high place of knowledge. We climbed the stairs and were met at the top the by a guide from the University of Habana. We were welcomed by the beautiful space with old buildings with Cuban, Spanish and Roman architecture and green vegetation all over. It was striking. When I was in Cuba, there was just symbolism everywhere and every place that I entered. The mix of Cuban nature and urban environments constantly gave me the sense that I was coming out of the dark into the light. There was just an interesting feeling in the air. It was the sensation of activity. Where we were was once the headquarters for the revolution militia and spirit and history can still be felt which emphasizes that the revolution was ideological and much more than it was physical. As a matter of fact, Cuban social thinkers, particularly Jose Marti, said as much. Touring the university, we saw an animal museum (and this collection dates back to 1800s), impressive sculptures, and rooms of impressive scale. I am forever reminded of how recent most structures are in the United States when I travel out the country. The guide led us into this big room that looked like a courtroom with a large gallery. There were works of art and painting that interrupted the largely wooden décor. As we sat down, the guide opened the floor for questions. It started out pretty general but got real, real quick. Someone asked about how Cubans felt about Castro. The guide briefly paused and you could see this public face melt away. Instead of joking and generically discussing the question, he passionately began to discuss why people loved Castro. A quick side note: Everywhere that I traveled, in tourist situations, employees seem to always present this frontstage behavior that is only for guests. You do not get a sense of who they are because you have not earned their trust. No matter how much money that you spend, you don’t get close. You cannot, because as an outsider you are temporary and often ignorant and disrespectful to that culture. I appreciated the genuineness. With passion, our guide described life before the revolution. Before the revolution, there was criminal corruption, severe racial and gender oppression, people were killed, starved and exploited. The government regime was totalitarian and most of the people lived under subjugation. There was high illiteracy, prostitution, and crime Once Castro took power, his group overnight transformed the country. They outlawed racial and gender discrimination. I heard a funny story about at the end of the revolution soldiers asking women to wash their uniforms and the women turning to Castro and saying we didn’t fight a revolution to continue to wash. Castro looked at them and told the soldiers to give the women your guns. Castro sent out 100,000 people to educate the population, particular women, who at the time only consisted of 3% of the overall number of college graduates. The government shifted and now nearly 50% of women are in decision-making positions. In a later column, I will discuss the status of women more. Castro made sure people were housed, educated and fed. It created a communal sense for the people and they care for and about each other. That spirit still exists. For example, people who suffer from HIV/AIDS are taken care of by the government. The medication and health care is free. In general, all Cubans are housed and given jobs. Castro and his regime transformed a country and instantly shifted the society into a more equal one. It’s the kind of thing that is only wishful thinking in the United States. The conversation was not about if Castro or Cuban society were/are perfect, it was more about acknowledging and celebrating a life and people who care about each other. There are not statues or buildings named after Castro; he didn’t want that. He believed that his spirit, the spirit of Cuba, lived within all Cubans. Of course there I nuance to this. Despite these efforts, it doesn’t mean that all social problems were eliminated. Things that took centuries have a tail. Even if the body is killed, the effects linger. I understand this really well as I listen to a lecture on race. The scholar started by discussing Cuba’s legacy of genocide and slavery. Like the United States, it is a complicated, tragic history of genocide and exploitation. As he began, I felt a dichotomous sensation of both sadness and proud. I thought about the tragedy and nearly wept. But I also thought about the proud I feel being Black and feeling an instant genuine human connection to minorities all over the globe. To those who do not experience it, it’s hard to explain. The idea of kinship spread across the world, challenges mere notions of biology as family. The kinship I felt among Afro Cuban was special and with each of call “Black Power” and fist that was raised I felt more and more at home. Understanding race in Cuba starts with understanding how the Spanish arrived on the island and nearly eliminated the indigenous population, the Taino. It’s further complicated by the fact that even Carlos Manuel De Cespedes, whom many consider the father of the Cuban revolution, was a slaveholder and only freed his slaves to fight the Spanish. Antonio Maceo, Afro Cuban revolutionary, whose impact many consider on par with Castro, often talked about racism in Cuba. There are three racial categories in Cuba: White, Mulatto, and Afro Cuban. The last category are considered and often referred to as Black. It’s interesting how Black has become the global diasporic term for the experiences of darker skin people. There is also a small indigenous population. Blacks still face tremendous struggles in Cuba and many refer to Cuba as having a “Black Problem.” This expression is rooted in racial stereotypes and racial ideas that supported white supremacy. At the same time, it also undermines legitimate concerns, discrimination and social problems associated with race. The scholar made a point to say if 100 Afro Cubans start university, only 10 finish. Some other numbers said only 4% graduate from college. Of course, this limits options for the types of jobs and perpetuates workplace segregation. Part of the reason is alienation that many feel in the university setting that doesn't reflect their history or understand their struggle. Something people of color in the United States know too well. The job types matter, because even though everyone makes the same salary, certain jobs, particularly those associated with tourism, get tips which can greatly increase one’s income. For instance, I met a doctor-turned-tour guide who went from making 30 CUC (Cuban Convertible Pesos) a month as a doctor, to being able to save 5000 CUC in six months. Ordinarily, these jobs often go to White and mulatto Cubans. Income and Wealth inequality can be connected to the Cubans who fled during the revolution. According to the lecturer, 97% of Cubans who fled considered themselves White. This is important for several reasons. First, most private are funded from outsiders, either spouses from other countries and families. Since most Cubans that left are White, they send money to white family in Cuba. They are able to start businesses, plan trips, buy more things, have more access, etc. There are two major takeaways from the day: 1) Cuba’s love for Castro is essentially a love for the equality for all people. The communal nature of society exudes a continually revolutionary spirit; 2) Racism continues to thrive worldwide and destroying it will not only take a revolution but also and evolution. The race scholar believe that love was the most important thing to conquer it. I tend to believe him because it is truly the love for equality, social justice, and equal access that facilitates change. As the third day began, we arrived at the former villa of Jose Marti, one of Cuban’s most influential thinkers. (check out http://www.josemarti.cu/). It was an old alabaster structure with a slightly pinkish hue. It was somewhat hidden behind lush palm trees and as I split the palm trees it almost fell like I was walking into the past. It was an interesting mix of tropical, urban and secluded. There was an Afro Cuban with beautiful dark skin that grabbed my hand warmly and said “Welcome”. There is an affection and for the third straight day I wonder about the solidarity that I feel. I pulled the tour guide to the side and she says that Habana and Cuba are mostly Afro Cuban. The construction of race is different in Cuba though. There are 3 primary races: White, Mulatto and Afro Cuban. There is a pride among all people but the connection across the African Diaspora is undeniable. It is also suggest that there is a shared experience with race. Walking into the villa you get a sense of scale and it puts a material feel on the social class difference that existed before the revolution. I also think about how space, physical space, can encourage or discourage thought. The building itself bred an intellectual inquiry. The lecture and the group is pretty invested as the lecturer, a young Afro Cuban woman, explains Marti travels around the world and teachings, which was fascinating. She gave a particularly engaging of earthquake in Charleston in 1886. Marti’s description of the chaos of the phenomena served as a reminder that the power of nature is above all and serves of reminder who humans are at their essence beyond the social problems. The aftermath of the tragedy saw all people eating, drinking and living together as equals. The group was enthralled as the discussion of the climax with a Marti recounting the birth during the earthquake. Birth itself being another powerful event of nature, and serving as a dichotomy of beauty and destruction and life and death. (check out the essay here http://www.josemarti.cu/publicacion/el-terremoto-de-charleston/). Once this lecture concluded, we took a break before the next one started. There were drinks and cookies available and most walked but I ran (Only because I was thirsty lol) to the refreshments. As I bit down on that small delicious cookie, I felt relaxed and refreshed from the experience. Almost outside of time. As the economy lecture starts we learn that education, including college, housing, and health care are free but regulated by the government. Cuba has a highly educated population with the majority having at least a Bachelor’s degree. It’s funny, because usually when people speak in terms Cuba, it is with the context of a “developing” or “third world,” which generally are ethnocentric and prejudicial points of view anywhere, but it shows how little people know about Cuba and its people. There is also food rations cards for all citizens. These ration cards are connected to their houses. (This will become important in later discussions) This means that people are essentially debt which is sounds like heaven about now. Hard to imagine living debt free in the United States. Debt is the reason, I am scared to answer calls from numbers I don’t recognize anymore (lol). . Up until recently, the government owned 100% of the homes and still owns the overwhelming majority of homes in the country. There is no homelessness in Cuba. This is partly due to the housing system that is set up where people to stay in their family homes their entire lives. Even if they have families, their families move in. This means a house could possibly have 4 or 5 families including siblings and their parents. Can you imagine living with your siblings and parents basically your entire life? I mean my mother couldn’t wait until I was 18 (Just joking mama). I believe this helps nurture the communal perspective of people in the country. There are apartments and a system where one can request a house as well, but in terms of housing there is a lack of choice and space. The lecture on the economy, really enlightened the group on the structure of Cuban life and how much Cuba is changing as well as how the changes are effecting Cuba. In preparing to travel to Cuba, I was made aware that there are 2 different currencies in Cuba: the stronger and recent Cuban Convertible Peso (CUC) and the Cuban Peso (CUP). Part of the economic issues in Cuba are linked to the fact that there is no universal agreement on the exchange rate on the currency. In major economic centers, 1 CUC equals 25 CUP. In others, particularly agriculture fields, 1 CUC equals 7 CUP. There are even places were 1 CUC equals 1 CUP. All government employers get paid the same regardless of degree level or job. Since education and healthcare are regulated by the government, all the professions including doctors and professors are government employees and make 30 CUCs a month just like other professions such as drivers and cashiers. Even with ration cards this is not enough and most Cubans have 2 or 3 jobs. We heard stories of college professors working as clowns and doctors moonlighting as doorpersons at tourist hotels. In Cuba, someone brings a doctor home and their family may sigh, “You will be broke forever.” Tourism is the number one industry and many professionals are leaving traditional professions and going into tourism. Though tour guides are government employees, the tips made from leading tours can make it a relatively lucrative career. This is having a tremendous effect on whether or not some Cubans go to college, as tourism is a lucrative and viable option once they finish high school. Cuba’s ability to survive is really attributed to the adaptation of its people. When I looked around Habana ad am amazed that despite what happen to its people (read embargo and Special period), they have thrived and remained true to their vision. What they have, is shared among the people and the refused revert back. It is admirable. The lecture emphasized that there are new fiscal laws to help stabilize the economy. This includes unifying the currencies and exchange, and the establishment of non-state property. She also openly questioned the government’s positions on some of the proposed economic changes. This stood out because in the United States we also hear about how scared people in Cuba are to discuss politics or the government. Image of the book 1984 are fed into our psyche as the big bad government throws people in the dungeon lol. Literally every lecture in Cuba that we attended, they questioned some governmental policies. I was not too surprised because that is what academia should foster at its roots. No matter how much you love a place, you are constantly thinking about how to make it better. Cuba’s a country that is rapidly changing. New laws proposed will stipulate that the president must be 62 years of age or younger and cannot serve longer than five years. There are new economic and social systems on the horizon for the people there. In terms of the people, they are rapidly shifting. There is, though, a concern about the role that capitalism and the new economics plays out, everyone understand that change is inevitable. One thing is for certain: Cuba will look very different over the next 20 years. The second day in Cuba started with my being awaken by the sound of frying eggs. The host family cook prepared the same meal each morning: scrambled eggs, fruit, toast, and some sort of meat. The realization of being in Cuba began to sink in. I kept thinking “I'm in Cuba; this is crazy!” As we left the apartment there was a cockeyed optimism inside me. It’s a sort of romantic feeling that one sometimes get when thrust into a new environment. As we got on the bus headed to old Habana (in Cuba its Habana not Havana), I noticed as we passed the Gulf, sunlight dancing off each ripple, as each ray bounced up and down. It almost seemed like a warm hug welcoming us. Old Habana was a mix of beautiful and colorful old architecture – Spanish designed churches, old military forts and three story riads of Moroccan design. I remembering thinking, “Its amazing how widespread the Moorish influence reaches.” These were broken by modern cafes, vendors stores, galleries, other structures and street artists. It was the touristy area of Habana, like Time Square in New York, and had that sort of energy. As in other tourist areas around the world, there were people who sold their likeness dressed as historical, eccentric, or sometime stereotypical costumes. While I understood the why, I always wondered how they felt. Do they feel isolated? Do they feel like people look through them? These areas always feel imbalanced and exploitative relationships, with the native people seemingly surrendering too much of themselves. At one point, we walked by a café with tons of handwriting on the walls outside of the building. Lots of writing in English about how much they love beer, each other, and Cuba. It looked like property destruction and they had no respect for the country. It wasn’t graffiti which can be political and symbolic. It felt like an exertion of privilege. I turned to some of the students and sad, “Y’all not doing that.” To which they looked at me and with their eyes say, “Child Please.” Walking through Havana, the guide took us on a walk through Cuba's history. I felt this spirit of revolution. It’s a different feeling than I have ever felt in a place. It’s hard to describe, it’s like an active awakeness with a side of don’t-mind-getting-the party-started-if-something-goes-wrong activism. This was supported by the many artifacts, statues of freedom fighters, like Manuel de Cespedes, known as the father of Cuba. Despedes let Spain kill his son, rather than give up the fight against Spain famously saying the he was “the father of all of Cuba.” Murals of Cubans plotting revolution, and the presence of organizations like the Committee for the Defense of the Revolution (CDR) a network of neighborhood organizations that promote social welfare and report against counter revolutionary activity showed that revolutionary history. The Cuban people share a solidarity around revolution and activism that was strange to me. They work for each other and embrace who they are as a group. Being Cuban and living in Cuba means something beyond the words. Living through the economic crisis of the 1959 embargo and the collapse of the USSR in the 1990’s created what is called the Special Period. It’s a lot to take in. I also began to notice that there were a lot of dark skin Cubans. I felt a kinship to the Afro Cubans and wondered if they felt the same but at that point I couldn't tell. Later that night I would begin to understand. We went into an art gallery (Cubans are amazing artists) to view some contemporary art. I pulled the tour guide aside and asked about the women in fishnets at the airport. The image had stuck ( no not like that lol). She said it was totally their decision. This felt weird though coming from a patriarchy that seeks to regulate and control women’s bodies it was hard to grasp. In many ways, Cuba put the focus on me – what I saw and experience said more about how I thought coming from the United States than what I was seeing. The last activity for the day was salsa dancing and provided an interesting look at culture. We took very basic and beginning lessons – and surely some of us looked like old 1980s action figures whose arms and legs only move two directions – (lol) it was the perfect way to end the day. As we jerked and gyrated to Cuban music, we were able to appreciate the diversity of the culture and for an academic study that often gets lost in translation. That night dinner was on our own and me and Ronald, the only other Black male (and male period on the trip). It was a continuation of our lessons on culture, race, and gender. Walking through the neighborhood was fascinating. There were huge beautiful villas of all colors of the rainbow. It was sort of like walking through Candyland (lol). Most needed some level repairs. Pillars were cracked, painting chipped, some of the yards had half-finished fences, blocks of cement scattered around the yards. Other smaller homes also in need of repairs. There were stray dogs and cats everywhere. As we walked, I was sort of nervous but not only did the dogs and cats not say anything to us but ignored each other. (They at peace lol) There were many restaurants and cafes sprinkled throughout the neighborhoods. Most are a part of large homes and had been converted. Kids were playing all over, mostly soccer and hide-and-go seek. I remember thinking, “how is hide and go seek the most perfect game ever.” There also were adults of all ages sitting on porches listening to music, flirting or have conversations. I once again felt nostalgic thinking this time of my small town, Eudora, Arkansas. How many times I had seen these beautiful human expressions. Even with the decay of some sidewalks and buildings, a direct result of the 1959 embargo, they made it work and stuck together. Women are walking by themselves all times of day and night already. There’s no anxiousness, no looking back, no keys in the hand, nothing. This seemed to indicate that there must not be a rape culture and women in fact feel very much in control of their social surroundings. I asked about this later and was told that rape is considered a very rare crime in Cuba. While exploring the area, I noticed it is mostly Afro Cubans. Cubans rarely see Black Americans and they were very vocal to us. Ronald, who was wearing a Huey P. Newton t-shirt, and I were affectionately greeted with calls of “my brothers”. As we walked, calls of “Black power” with clenched fist raised peppered throughout the neighborhood. The roar of the water in the back, it’s a powerful act of unity and let me know that race mattered even in Cuba. These two days set a nice foundation and in the coming days I will begin to discuss specifics like social structure, economy, race and gender with more depth. This is the first day of my 8 part blog series on my experiences in Cuba. I co-lead a group of students and faculty from my college to Cuba during our spring break. In each blog will discuss my experiences day by day. Cuba is an amazing place and my experiences were so rich that writing this blog is both informative for the reader and a way for me to process all that I saw, heard, tasted, felt, and experienced. Getting to Cuba had some unexpected challenges that including missing my van to the Dulles airport and the connecting plane in Mexico City which trapped my co-leader, Ann, a student, Kyleata, and myself in the airport for 8 hours. The experience in the Mexico City airport was particular interesting because it was the first time that had a negative experience with an airline and made me sympathize with the struggle of people all of the world., who fly daily under the lens of xenophobia, stereotypes, religion intolerance, gender discrimination and geography bias. The privilege of flying while American creates a blindness to the struggle. Kyleata and I finally arrived in Cuba at midnight. (Ann had to stay behind). Getting off the plane a rush of warm greets my face. My eyes open slightly wider as I am surprised the tropical feel of the island. Cuba is a special place and even the expected offers intrigued and excitement. Entering the airport i am greeted by the smell of tobacco. Just for a second, I slightly mile as I briefly fell back in time, recalling my 7 year-old self going to the store getting cigarettes for my mother and dipping snuff for my grandmother. (Hey it was the 1980's lol) Cuba already felt nostalgic after 20 steps on its soil. My initial preconceptions began to melt away. There are negative stereotypes about Cuba told to us in the United States that makes it seem like a oppressive totalitarian system. You half expect to see a warlord sitting on a chair of bones with a harem of servants around (Mad Max style lol). But there were no military guards or any recognizable police. Just 3 guys in tight athletic t-shirts and jeans huddle looking at a cell phone. As I past through the first custom check, I see mostly women working and many had on high heels, button down shirts fishnet stocking. I am surprised and instantly began to wonder why that is. The answer to the question which I will discuss in a later blog is perfect for their revolution spirit. As I am greeted by a sign from the study broad company held our tour guide who was striking with her beautiful curly hair, brown skin and warm spirit comforted Kyleata and I as we approached her and as she embraces us I think, “mi hermana” as felt the solidarity that connects us across the African Diaspora. One of the purpose of the trip was to study race and learn about Afro Cubans. And this was a perfect way to be welcomed. The airport was a cornucopia of different cultures and people and I thought of postmodernism and I saw the impact of American fashion and branding. People from all over the world wearing Levi and Holister jeans, Nikes, Addidas, t shirts with American sports teams. I couldn't help but to think about the impact of the large transnational corporations on culture and how weary I was on the impact on global culture. As I walkout the airport, I see palm trees and night sky fill with the full moon. I expected to see the multiple colors (pink, green, blue, black, purple and red) of 1950s Chevys but I am surprised but the number of modern cars, Hyundai accents, Honda accords, Kia fortes as well as modern buses and vans. Ever since I got off the plane, I thought “wow” this totally different than we are taught in the U.S. I assume it, but experiencing it, left me speechless. It wasn’t Cuba caught in 1959 rather our conception and misconception of it. By the time I left the airport it was 2 am, on taxi ride to the apartment, the city was quiet and mostly vacant except 4 or 5 groups of men. I stare out of the window, not really thinking about anything. I know now that i was caught in that sociologist moment, where you are open, curious and intrigued at the same time. When we arrived at the apartment, I wasn't sure what expect. The apartment was beautiful, better looking than mine in the U.S. lol. It overlooked the Gulf of Mexico. The water looked endless and I thought how much courage it took for people thousands years ago to look and have faith that there's something on the other side. As I go to bed. I wonder how I would be changed. Its officially the day, I am traveling back to the US. The time has been great and as I am sitting at the airport, I constantly confronted with privilege of nationality. While I was eating breakfast, I struck up a conversation with a Polish woman working in the airport. During our conversation, I suggested she visit the United States, to which she replied, "I would like to but its very hard to get a visa to come."
This isn't the first time I have heard in the US and the UK. I rarely think about how important nationality is. People in the US rarely do. But it allows me certain privileges people in most countries don't have. It is easy for US citizens to enter other countries, not all but most. That means I have access to experiences and knowledges most don't. This is humbling and saddening. I have to understand the US got to this point by basically terrorizing the world. How many lives lost and families fractured, all for this global status? I reminded of why I study sociology. My journey has been about equality and equal access to all. I started my journey as a way to understand sexual assaults on college campuses. Traveling has provided growth but there is always looming question. Students often ask (in their student way lol) how do you negotiate having unearned privileges. It is something to ponder. Anyway, I had a wonderful experience and I am thankful for the individuals and institutions, (particular the Department of Psychosocial Studies, Birkbeck College) for guidance, knowledge, conversation and overall friendship. It is a lot to process, but I reached my goal of getting a better understanding of race and gender relations in not only the UK but also in Europe as well. Learning is an ongoing conversation though, and the experiences I had in UK is merely the beginning of one I hope to continue next year. Thanks to all the people that read and supported me on this journey. I hope that enjoyed reading as much as I have sharing. Until, next time. Hopefully, I will be back at it again in January when I take a group of students to Cuba. Cheers This my last day going around London and its weird because I feel like I live here now, even picked up a few words (mate, cheers, mum, wee bit lol). I planned to go to the National Archives, but didn't have time.
So, I met with a friend for breakfast in the Shepard Bush area and then we went to the Kings Cross area. One thing I have not mentioned is how striking the architecture of the buildings are. Many universities, hotels libraries, and businesses are in the beautifully designed buildings. These buildings give a sense of grandeur and history. It’s been one of the highlights of the trip. I just sat around and took it all in. The buildings, people, sounds, etc. I sat beside two your children in McDonald's (wasn't eating just using Wi-Fi) and we a sea gull either kill a pigeon and try to carry its body or just try and move a dead one. The children screamed, “Mummy that white bird killed a pigeon.” I reflected my experiences and wished that my ancestors could see what I see. Feel the cold, wet air, Eat baked beans for breakfast (yes they do that here) touch the architecture, and hear the symphonies. I think much joy would it have bring my grandmother to cross the sea and experience things that she only saw on television. Interact with the physical scale of the past, so I understand that this is a privilege. I guess like this blog is somewhat of a responsibility to the past. Sharing my experiences everyone and hoping they learn, but feeling its responsibility to bring with me the hopes of the past, present and future. Today, I attended Precarious Citizenship: Young People Who are Undocumented, Separated and Settled in the UK, a one day conference on the lives of undocumented youths in the UK at Birkbeck College. Since I arrived in London, migration and immigration are among the major topics that are discussed on the BBC news
The conference explored the lives those often pushed to the margins of society by citizenship process that offers little protection. It addressed their situation in relation to a number of social institutions. Just like in the US. While, the conference had all great speakers but it was voices of the youths that were the loudest. Their stories of social neglect, fear, instability, confusion, exploitation, and disconnection stay with you and haunt your memories. How can you forget someone saying the police burst into the place she was living arresting his mum and placing her into government custody. They spoke, moved, sang and read like an old Negro spiritual. You can't get housing, work, or healthcare if you are undocumented. Your life is in perpetual transition. Constantly move from house to house, job to job. It’s frantic, and scary. Many of the youths do not quite understand their citizen status until they are 18 and forced into a reality they that they cannot become citizens and they cannot go back to land they don't know. They are caught in the spaces in between. To gain citizenship and naturalization for undocumented youths is a long and complex (too complex for me to understand or explain lol), and even if you are born there you do not get citizenship. You have to reside there for 8 or 10 before 18 (many do), then start long, expensive journey within built institutional discrimination. Among of things required, you have to be in college (which is expensive), pay 1000 British pounds (about $1450) for a passport, and have "good character." You can’t have police records but for those on the margins this is difficult since you are often targeted by the police. Just like in the US, it is a vicious cycle where race, gender, ethnicity, and country of origin matter. But the story of undocumented, migrant and immigrant youths isn't just their story, it’s also the story of how Europe and the United States have exploited, used, manipulated and underdeveloped countries worldwide through colonization, neo colonization, covert operations, war, transnational corporations and cultural dominance. The problems that force people to leave their countries are often a result of this and companies take advantage. Many undocumented people get to these because promise them jobs and better lives. What actually happens exploitation in sex work, sweatshops, farms, and general businesses that exploit their labor. But rarely do I hear businesses being severely punished or held accountable. These countries essentially try to throw a rock and hide their hand (an old southern US saying). They create policies that doesn’t account for their role in the history of home countries (Why aren’t their jobs and resources, what forces causes them to leave) or account specific needs of undocumented youths. When describing Brixton, I asked Langston Hughes question in Harlem, What happens to a dream deferred, but in for these youths it’s not about dreaming because are denied access to the institutions needed to accomplish those dreams, it's about getting their story told. I am reminded of a quote by Maya Angelou, "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you" I haven't visited a lot of touristy sites while I been here in London, but today I decided to visit the National Science Museum. It is a National Bank Holiday in the UK (a holiday no one here seems to know what it is but love the day off lol), so many businesses are closed. I started my college career as a chemist before deciding on a social science. The analytical way in which science views reality has always appealed to me. Sociology is all about perception and studying other fields helps my sociological knowledge grow. The National Science Museum is in an area with other museums and to get there, you must walk through a red brick tunnel. I felt little like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz as i skipped my way through it and sang "We off to see to the wizard, the wonderful wizard of OZ" (lol). The National Science Museum was what you expect. It had free admissions like most of the museums that I have visited here. It was beautiful, open and airy. There is an inviting feeling that encourages you to take your time and enjoy the museum. The exhibits were nicely organized, but everything seemed small to me. That has been quite a culture shock since I arrived. Everything is small. The cars, apartments, windows, appliances, bathrooms, etc. The physical and symbolic space is significantly smaller than in the United States and I often feel like a bull in a China shop lol. The most interesting thing about museum is the amount of merchandise associated with the museum. Ever since I read Enchanting A Disenchanted World by George Ritzer, I find myself overly concerned with catherdrals of consumption. These places are focused on selling goods and are designed to feel enchanting. They encourage consumption. The museum felt like that to me. Even in a building with with great wonders, I thought the the greatest wonder was how with eating in restaurants and shopping in the gift shop was just as important part of the experience. There's is museum related items but also stuff like stars figurines, crystal growing kits, binoculars, bouncing balls, and other miscellaneous things not necessarily associated with the museum. Not that I necessarily think this is wrong, but I have become more aware of the way consumption plays in the museums everyday interaction. I have never had Indian food, so today was to be a new adventure on many levels. I have mentioned before that each area has its own heart beat. I met these two sociologists from New York, one was the professor from Columbia, whose lecture I had attended on inequalities in education in the UK and US and the other was his partner who had worked both in academia and in the public sector policy making. The restaurant was in west London. I haven't been to west London, but I did know it's the theater district of the city. The area was the busiest I have seen in London. There were endless crowd of people in all directions. The scene painted by conversations in multiple languages, cigarette smoke, the roar of fancy cars, and people ducking in and out of doors. There are restaurants, theaters, historic national landmarks, like Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery, and statues of English heroes sprinkled over the area. The business section of the city looms in the distant. It feels big and alive and looking at distance it seems like its expanding. Soaking it all in, I thought of Herman Melville's Moby Dick. There’s an imperialist edge to this area of the city. It flaunts its money, power, influence. It’s a touristy, distinctly upper class area, and filled with what’s considered high culture (read theater). There’s an air of entitlement and privilege to the people. I saw them bump into others with no pleasantries, and ignored those who needed help. On the stairs leading out of the station, there was an elderly woman struggling with a bag. No one stop to help. They pushed past her slightly bumping shoulders. Eventually, I helped her, but was the only one who attempted. uEach part looks identical. Around every corner, there are theaters , TGIFridays, Five Guys burgers, and Angus Steakhouses. The cycle of business repeats every few blocks and it paints a future of sameness. I see people experiencing homelessness everywhere. It is by far the most that I have seen. They provide a stark contrast to the area and provide a visual divide between rich and poor; have and have nots; living a future and living to survive. These people were largely ignored and stepped over. They merely served as the backdrop for social inequality. Because of their position in society they also serve as a symbolic Ismael. Telling a story, of a London, that wants to create a upper and middle class. I felt more disconnected to this section more than any of the others. It feels London is growing and changing. Like Captain Ahab, the West End represents dominance and imperialism. This is what London wants to be. The white whale represents the poor and traditional ethnic minority areas that are using the spear of gentrified. Once I decided to come to London, I wanted to find a way to share my experience with people. I thought about using Snapchat but for the life of me I could I not figure it out. I remember some of my students in my women studies course during the fall semester laughing at me as they attempted to show me. Eventually, I decided on a blog. This decision was for two reasons. The first reason was it was a way to record and reflect on my experiences in the UK. The second was so that people could experience it with me.
But this decision has not been an easy one, because I am rather sleep deprived. My body refuses to fully adjust to London time. I am looking a bit like a zombie with a backpack on. Today, I sat in my favorite fish and chips shop and decided to people watch. My plan was to also draw for a couple hours. People came in and out ordering various things, like fish and chips. There is a simple joy in looking and appreciating people. Their different walks, accents, and food taste, are a celebration of their uniqueness. This ended up being a challenge, because I frequently dozed off (lol). My head slowly drifting down only to spring back. It was quite a spectacle. I drifted in and out of consciousness. One moment I would be typing, drawing or observing, and in the next moment, I would wake up in seemingly a different world. Surrounded by a different cast of character and greeted by different smells. The people came in and out the shop, and am sure pointed and laughed. Matter of fact, I woke up at one point with everyone in there looking at me (lol). So this is blog about how hard it is to do blogs (lol). But also about the role of the traveler both figuratively and metaphorically. My travels back and forth between dreams did not help me understand ideas of race and gender in the UK but did remind me of a quote by Ibn Battuta. “Traveling – it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” Maybe this dreamy day will make me more observant and a better storyteller. Let's hope anyway (lol). A couple days ago at lunch, one of my friends, who is from New Jersey, but studying in London, made an interesting statement. She said that London is a city of 200 smaller cities. I have been thinking about this over the last couple days. It is a lot to take in because my life I grew up in a small town Arkansas (a state in the southern part of United States). It was segregated at the time (this was 1980s and 1990s). My complete existence in my town was with southern Blacks many of whom I was related to. We shared a homogenous experience in not all but many respects.
These small cities in London create a heterogeneous experience that changes from stop to stop. The train serving as a symbolic gateway to these new experiences. Today, I met friend who is from London, that I met in Morocco last summer at the Old Street Station. Old Street station was the first station that shops and eateries in it. It looked more like a mini mall than. I see a stand for Louisiana chili and think, “really”. Someone was speaking Spanish and walked to the Columbian food stand. The areas are wondrously heterogeneous in structural but there is a Leaving the tunnel to the street by glass skyscrapers (the first I have seen in London) and beautifully designed buildings. The street intersections are uniquely designed and gave me a sense like was sort of in a Rubix cube (lol). My friend is young Black doctor and we go to a café, where I have the weirdest looking and tasting orange juice in my life (lol). It was in a wine glass, with an orangish, pink color and a white foamy top (like a root beer lol). I asked the worker if it was orange juice and non-alcoholic, he said yes but can I really be sure. I don’t drink alcohol, but after I drank that, I did find myself staggering, screaming at buildings and saying I love you to strangers lol (I am just kidding). Areas of the cities may feel different. We began to talk about my time here and the observations that I have made. He asked, “so how does race here compare to here to the US.” I lean back in my chair, pause and say that’s a really complex question. I could see people becoming squirmy the way a child does when they are to leave or need to use bathroom. He noticed it as well and casually motioned to me. I then said generally speaking and from my observation the culture around the discussion of race, gender and other social issues are conservative. (A recent article agrees). Discussing race here is a little like the rules of the movie Fight Club. In the movie, Edward Norton famously tells his group. "The first rule is we don't talk about fight club." Well, here in most areas it seems to be, The first rule is you don’t talk race. The second rule is you don’t talk about gender. It’s hard for me to fully describe this general sentiment (maybe by the end of the trip I will be able) in general discussion around race and gender. Its nuanced and complicated but ever present. As we continued, there is an uneasy tension around us. It is like a bubble slowly getting bigger. I think, "typical." In London, the areas change, the stations, buildings, and landmarks in each area often are different and unique but the core cultural understandings of life seem stay the same. Its Ignore and hope it goes away. But of course all that does is end up only continuing a system of structural inequality. The call of Brixton has loomed large ever since I arrived in London. Since my second day here, nearly every scholar I have met has said, "Go to Brixton." I have heard this so much, that Brixton seemed to call to me like the song of the siren. Today, I wanted to attend a lecture by sociologist Heidi Mirza on whether education can be use used to empower Black, Muslim, and migrant young women. The event was in Brixton , so attending meant that I must give in to the call. Stepping out of .the train station, the call greeted me with the syncopated beats played on a snare drum and someone singing. “Don’t trust no blue eyed Jesus, He will always, lead you wrong Don’t know White Jesus He aint helping no Black people.” The rhythm of Brixton is different than any other part of the city that I have visited. The song is a fitting anthem to heart of the section. It is political, resilient, and defiant and acts as a sort of like theme music to bustling with Black and Brown people that you see on the streets. Catching the bus, pushing their children there’s an ebb and flow. It’s the first section of the city, minorities, particularly Blacks, greatly out-numbered Whites. The buildings look different and gives off a different character My head turns back and forth as I slowly walk toward m the lecture. It is alive with music and people. Some buildings are tagged with graffiti and this visual continues the struggle of the area. We are watching #Save Brixton; Our struggle may be long, But victory is a must. I’m in awe and it reminds of the struggle in Baltimore. There’s a Pan-African feel and obvious connection between the history and struggle both in the US and in the UK. There is a street market with tables full of colors selling various products. Reggae music is blasting as Afro Caribbean, Nigerians, Turkish, Indian and various people from Middle Eastern countries, ask to sell me incenses, necklaces, trinkets and goods. I walk slowly through and it reminded of the souks in Marrakesh, Morocco or Cairo, Egypt. Briefly, I feel like I am in a different country. There are Bob Marley pictures everywhere and serves as a symbol of cultural relativism and proud. . As I approached the area for the lecture, I notice that it is in a housing complex called Angels Delight. There are beige buildings and a playground area with kids playing soccer. I think, "that looks cool, we should be doing that Maryland." The lecture is in a small community center room. There are not many people as the lecture begins. But as the professor begins her talk by proclaiming the education is biased and unfair to Blacks and Black women, people begin to come. The statement serves as its own song of a siren. People are drawn to the call because it reflects both their frustration and desire for social justice. The professor described her experiences coming from Trinidad and being discriminated in the Brixton school system. They identified with her pain and frustration as she recalled it. They also celebrated her triumph as she discussed the book that she wrote about the school based off of her dissertation. The lecture may have dealt with can the British education system empower Black, Muslim women, but it quickly became a forum on how to improve the community. Angel Delight is neither angelic or delightful, and though not overly violent, it is a trap of limitations and perpetuation. As they talk, I thought of Langston Hughes poem Harlem and its iconic first line, What happens to a dream deferred? But for real, what does happen? People vented their frustration and their concerns (which sounded eerily similar to those in the US). They feel trapped and spent a great deal of time expressing that the children would be better if they could see other areas of city, country and world. They are literally trapped in Brixton and there are no counter narratives presented to make them think there is more to life. What happens to a dream deferred? Understanding why this is, I only had to look to the only White man (who I think helped plan the event) attending, who after hearing all this, asked the speaker if she could say something positive, to which she let out a hardy laugh (as did I). But this was just one side to my visit to Brixton. Walking back to the train station, I evidently walked through a wormhole and fell into the Twilight zone. I was in a different city. I was puzzled. The shopping market was completely clear, businesses that were open in the day were closed and new businesses were open. There were no brown faces out on the streets. I only saw whites. The street drumming and reggae music was replaced by serene silent of gentrification. The brown layer figuratively and literally had been pulled off of Brixton. It reminded me of when I was child playing outside moving logs. Logs exist in a seemingly concrete reality, but when you move them and looked under there was always another often more active world that’s affecting the log in ways you could not always see. The duality of Brixton, makes describing it in singular terms nearly impossible. It is Jekyll and Hyde. And in on one hand, it has two opposite personas that constitute a single place. On the other hand, it is one place represented by two personalities and understanding the interrelationship between the two, helps us comprehend Brixton’s identity. It also helps us understand the past, present and future dreams of the minorities in that area. But for real, what does happen to a dream deferred? Every great journey, adventure, and even theory starts with one or many stories. Stories built imagination, inspire, make you believe in the impossible, and lead us down the path of our lives. The last 10 days in London, I. have been writing about my experiences, but there is so much happening, I can only overview or give a snapshot of my experience. So in this blog, I will share some of my stories that have not previously mentioned. Each unique and important to building my journey .
There have been funny stories. Story 1 My first time riding the train, I step unto it full of confidence (and swag lol). Gripping my blue backpack like its my junior year in high school, I cooling stood. As the train started, I felt the power of the engine and slightly turn my feet to compensate. However, I grossly underestimated the power of the engine and went flying landing on a very nice woman (I know that because she didn't beat me up and was very understanding). People around me laughed slightly and I am certain that they were thinking damn Americans. Story 2 Another time, while in a grocery store there was a young girl, about three years old, who was blocking the entrance to the store. As I approached the door and amid her mum (see I am becoming more British everyday) calling for her, she stepped in front of me. As attempted to step around, she moved as well. She smiled and laughed only the way children can. I smiled too and thought of my two older sons when were younger and infant son now. Her sheer light and joy touched me as her mum grabbed her hand and walked her out. She looked back still smiling and laughing. Story 3 The sight of me trying to explain why I am in the UK is quite comical. People will ask if I am in the UK on holiday. I will say, "I am here studying race and gender." They stare at me kind of confused. And the more i try to explain, the worse I sound. I end up saying something like, race and gender are bad. And i want to make the world a better place with rainbows and unicorns. Story 4 On my second day in the UK, I was walking, with food, to the place I am staying around 10 pm. I hear someone behind walking behind me and turn around. It was woman, who said, "i'm just following the food." I laughed and we begin to walk together. She had the hiccups and everytime she spoke she hiccupped. How (hiccup) are you (hiccup)? she said. I laughed and just as I did, I tripped and some of my food got on my shirt. We both laughed and continued our walked until she reached her house ( a couple doors down from where I am staying). There are also stories that related to my studies. Story 1 After the first lecture, I talked to Eric Fassan and I asked him, about the analysis of gender in context of race in France. I mentioned that race in the United States is usually seen through a masculine, patriarchal lens. He said serious academic analysis of race did not begin until 1980s. He also stated that gender is at the center of race discussion because it began by examining the lives of ethnic and racial minorities women. Story 2 I talked a Russian sociologist, trained in Germany, who told me that the the biggest race problem in Russian was directed at Turkish people in the country. She said that the call the people coming down from the Caucasus mountains, Black people (mind blown). That fact alone made the trip worth it. Story 3 I talked to an education scholar that the beauty and stripper culture has an effect on gender. She discussed how gender is being influence by the transport of gender norms from the United States. Story 4 On the train from Liverpool, I sat in a seat across from a British doctor born in Nigeria. We stuck up conversation and mostly discuss gender in the UK in comparison gender in Africa. He wondered why the European understanding of women was so limited. With a kind of sadness on his face he wondered why they couldn't see them as having equal power and ability. He also told a story of being shocked, an knowing it was unfair, that he made more than his female colleagues. These few stories help frame my experiences. While each story may be a force by itself, collectively they create the journey. While I may have a goal, not absorbing and embracing each of these makes it impossible to reach. Quantum mechanics states that at the quantum level sub atomic particles can exist in more than one place at a time. Stories are like that. Its one idea, event, issue, or experience expressed from many different social locations. Each painting a picture and laying a brick on the road to understanding. An American Sociologist in London Day 8- The Sankofa Experience at the International Slave Museum5/24/2016 When I left the United States, the number one place that I wanted to visit was the International Slave Museum. Since its opening I wanted to visit but If you would have asked me why, I don't if I could have given a definitive answer. I would have probably said "to see our history" or " to see a materialized version of colonization." Truth is I wasn't sure because it was a combination of many reasons. Today , I went to Liverpool in order to visit the museum. I didn't know what to expect from the city. Since I arrived in London, i have continually heard about the North. Its the North this, the North that. It is like being caught in a bad Game of Thrones episode lol. Entering the city, I was stunned by the architecture. Its an eclectic mixture historic and modern. There are grand, centuries old buildings with fast food restaurants like Burger King on the bottom floor. Its a symbolic of a city trying to move past atrocities by both owning up to its history and embracing the future. The accent of the people are very different and harder for me to understand. They are friendly and genuine much like the people from the Southern part of the United States. The city was only an appetizer. As I approached the museum there was a mini carnival with a merry-go-round and snack vendors outside. I began to think, "I cant be-." Then i stopped and thought, "this is probably exactly what it looked like." Walking the docks to get to the museum was eerie and I couldn't help but winch as I breathed the heavy air. I was cautiously skeptical after going to the the London exhibit at the docklands. I was hoping for more than some pacifying attempt. I walked into the museum and say "whoa." It was beautiful and inviting. As you walk in, quotes on the wall welcome you. I felt a warmth that you rarely feel going through the museum. I can only image that it was the spiritual energy in the objects or ideas. Or maybe the warm feeling was generated from seeing the a massive collection. There are artifacts, paints and interactive displays throughout. As I traveled through the museum, I amazed at the diversity of topics covered, It has artifacts of enslaved but also it with by exploring the ways in which Africa changed the culture through a variety of ways including through language and cooking. It gives the Africans agency and complicates the dominant narrative. I was fully engaged but I kept expecting a let down. Discussion of slavery in schools are treated as a dental visits. (people closing their eyes and trying to just get through it lol). The culture does want to think about it. There's a limitation in how the culture neglects this part of the past because not only does it isolates us as a culture but and as individuals The value of the museum is that it provides a visual lecture, and its hard not to be impressed as you walk through as you start your journey in the past and continues the story. The museum is language. It's a full lecture and in that way, its a valuable piece of the culture. Its deals not only with slavery was but how does it affects contemporary racism and poverty. Focusing on colonial legacies which can be seen in street names and businesses. It asked difficult questions about the future based on this past. Most importantly, it provides a celebration of the people and their descendants, who despite it all persevered. This point is important. I remember my first time going to Egypt. Visiting the historical sites and experiencing time and places, made me understand that there is a limitation to only thinking of your ancestors as slaves. This limits your potential and places boundaries on your possibilities. Its a cage, The museum in that way is freedom and possibility. Its impressive and the polar opposite to the British Museum, which in many ways is celebration of colonization. No one leaves there not moved. It is amazing. You learn how the past, influence on the present and how to proceed to the future. It is a Sankofa experience and one that by itself was worth the trip to the United Kingdom. City of Liverpool International Slave Museum
Since I have arrived in London, I have not slept at night. At first I thought it was because of jet lag (or that I am a vampire lol) but maybe it’s because each day of this journey requires tons of reflection. It’s sensory overload like walking into my grandmother’s kitchen at New Years as a kid - the greens, meat, cornbread, cabbage, sweet potato pie would overwhelm me (I am hungry now lol). London is grandmother’s kitchen.
Though I slept last night, I also took a nap. From that nap I woke up thinking "Birkbeck or bust." It was a way of psyching myself out, because I was still sleepy lol. I was attending Birkbeck College to listen to lecture a scholar from Columbia University was giving on the systematic inequalities within the United Kingdom and US higher education systems. At the end of the train ride, the lift to the top floor was broken so the PA announced that we had to take the stairs. I looked at the stairs and it said use only in emergencies, and I thought,“that’s a bad sign”. 175 steps and 15 stories later and I was stumbling out of there like the walking dead lol. Felt like I had climbed Machu Picchu. As I walked out the station, I was greeted by an Indian guy walking up to me trying to fist pound me saying “wassup brother!” He started saying, “Trump is for the brothers in the hood” along with some other nonsense. He mentioned Jimmy Hendrix, Muhammad Ali, Tupac, Prince, and Michael Jackson saying he knew about the brothers in the hood. I said, “What about Trump’s racism towards minority groups?” He then said, “oh those are just Mexicans.” (Insert sad face here). It was quite comical, but his ignorance does remind of how global racial stereotypes are. Its dangerous the messages that are being transported. Like the influence of the stripper culture in constructing gender; racism has began to rejuvenate a highly visible and expressed xenophobic movement not just in the US but globally. There constant talk of closing borders here and stopping certain groups from entering. There’s all sorts of debates about border closing in the United Kingdom and European Union and scapegoating ethnic and minority groups. It is also a reminder that the world is always looking and to be the best version of ourselves as scholars in the US. The lecture by Kevin Dougherty at Birkbeck College was insightful. It was a discussion of the UK and US higher education. There are a lot of similarities but plenty of differences though – like students get into their studies sooner (no general education courses) and funded primarily through loans. One thing that was the same in higher education in UK, like the US, has a highly stratified system based on race, gender and class. The disparities are among students and professors. (Here an article on that there are only 70 Black professors.) During the lecture, he explored the ways each system attempts to resolve this and how they can learn from each other. So after all the information on the education system in the UK and I’m left trying to process and wondering if either system will ever be the meritocracy it claims. Dr. Dougherty’s statement that the education system can’t be fixed without addressing social inequality, resonates. And asserts that if either system are to provide equal opportunity to every citizen, then it has adopt the slogan “totally equality or bust.” Because half measures only cover the problem and not solve it. An American Sociologist in London Day 6 - Navigating My Time at the Museum of London Docklands5/23/2016 Going through London can be a surreal, I am a stranger and occupy a unique position. In The Stranger George Simmel once wrote that this position creates both a closeness to other members to share and distance. There’s dichotomy to my existence here and the world seems to flash like a light switch being turned on and off. Click, click - click, click. Since I have been here, starting conversations with people has been pretty easy. My role of a stranger makes people want to share. Who hasn’t needed to share something with a stranger who you believe you will never see again. I have lol. I am able to observe, study, and understand the culture in a way that full time members can’t. Today, I traveled on the train to the Museum of London Docklands to visit its exhibit the London Sugar and Slavery. I was excited to see the exhibit and how London framed its role in the slave trade. I hoped it would be something that would blow me way and add to my knowledge base. In the museum, I walk up the wooden stairs the exhibit is on the 3rd floor of the museum. You have to pass through two exhibits to get to it. The way that they are positions, I am walking in a circle and I felt like I was walking to the back. It gave me a sense that the exhibit was seen as unimportant and insignificant (through this not be the case). I kinda smurked and thought, “that’s typical.” The exhibit covered the typical topics in slavery, initial enslavement, abolitionism, significant people but it was not highly detailed. It primarily focused on the sugar plantations in the Caribbean. I heard a couple people, say, “oh that’s sad.” I didn’t feel like the exhibition makes you sympathize with slavery though. Conversations about race here as minorities being label as racist as much as Whites. Understanding of race is separate from slavery and colonization and it has fragmented. I was the only dark skin person in the museum. (Well, I saw an Indian girl with White adults). I talked to some of the staff and they said not a lot of minorities visit the museum and they are trying to explore ways to attract more. It has become a familiar feeling traveling around London. As diverse as the population is, this diversity seem to transfer to institutions or restaurants (unlike it’s a specific ethnic restaurants in certain areas). There seems to binary way of understanding why this is. Obvious issues like segregation and economic disparities are not connected when people explain it.. I am left embracing my role as the stranger and contemplating the balanced between my cultural understanding and interpreting what I observe. I feel both close and distant to the society and my position has helped me continue to grow. It is said that a good traveler gets lost in the experience, that they embrace the journey and seize adventure. Over the past 5 days, I have seen and learned much but I haven’t had an adventure until… today. My adventure starts with a simple decision to visit the 101 Thai Kitchen, which was recommended to me by a friend before I left Baltimore. As I looked up the directions, I thought “that doesn’t look that far” I grabbed my coat and umbrella (because it always rains; why is the sky so sad lol). Once I got to the train station I found out that 4 trains and 2 walks awaited me. Didn’t bother me. I eagerly began my journey. Walking to the train, I heard a little girl say to her mom, “I am mad at you.” I smile as I am thinking about my sons when they were younger. These memories always bring a smile to my face. Waiting for the first train, there was a man and woman next to me kissing and rubbing. Nothing too explicit but consistent and passionate. I moved to the right slowly to get away and they laughed and moved with me. I blank stared forward, slightly widening my eyes. I look to see if someone else saw, but everyone was in their own world. Paintings plastered through the stations make some these stops visual pleasures. They display the soul of the city and tell the story of the people that ride: families sharing, connecting strangers, the never-ending metaphors of life, etc. It’s a treat. I arrived in Hammersmith and I paused as I am greeted by a grand theater. People are courteous in the area. Frequently, saying “please,” “excuse me,” and “cheers.” I think the niceness was due to the umbrella because it gave me that classic British gentlemen look lol. Walking through this area, I understand how Giddens and other scholars developed postmodern theory. It is vibrant and bustling and filled with beautiful artifacts. A cornucopia of different cultures seen through authentic Indian, Korean, Thai, Japanese, Persian, Chinese, and Vietnamese restaurants all populate the landscape with churches, buildings, and stores. People speaking various languages walking to and fro. But what are their stories? Do they tell their children that they can be prime minister? Do they attend adequate school or have citizenship rights? Do you have equal opportunities or options for economic advancement? Visually, this scene speaks of an ideal society. Looks great, but like in the United States what does it say really? It is easy to let this slice of life fool you into thinking that London is a pure pluralistic society. I begin to think about the idea of diversity, a word constantly among Western countries. Eric Fassin mentioned it yesterday when discussing race and France. Diversity takes the politics out issues and makes them seem like an unfortunate consequences and not a structural problem. I arrived at the 101 Thai Kitchen, walk in and knew I was at home when I saw this guy wearing sweats serving people food. The restaurant was filled and people were enjoying themselves. At that moment I had an epiphany. I have been in quite a few restaurants over the past 5 days and the population is always majority White. This is interesting despite the fact that the population is 44% Black or ethnic minority (click here). Though anecdotal, it does make me think about the intersection of race, class, gender and geography. On my way back at the train station, returning whence I have come, I see something that both disturbs and enlightens. There are four Black girls ranging from ages 6- 9 with their aunt who is quizzing them on their multiplication tables. Suddenly, one of the girls says, “look at me auntie.” They all rush to the pole and begin dancing up and down the pole saying, “I am shaking my bum.” The aunt tells them to get away from that pole and continues to ask math questions. Now, these were children and it was innocent, but it helped me understand how the stripper culture that has affected gender in the United States is also affecting it in the UK. As an American in the UK, I am taking steps not to be ethnocentric, but instead looking hard to see similarities between the two cultures. There are definite differences but just like the globalization of corporations like McDonalds and Burger King (which are seriously everywhere), factors like race and gender share global elements. So the adventure to 101 Thai Kitchen provided great understanding of race, gender, class and ethnicity. It reminds me that each day of one’s life is a journey and we have accept the lessons that are on it. Maybe the real adventure is being open and observant. 2 Random Comments It took about 2 hours to get the Hammersmith section of London by train and I later found out it would have only taken 20 minutes by car lol. Saw a car pull up and someone got out of what I thought was the driver side in mid traffic and momentarily freaked out lol Traditional phone booth in London. Reminiscent of the one used on the BBC show Doctor Who Over the last thing few days, I have had many conversations with lots of great Londoners. Hearing people’s stories not only weaves a web of understanding, it makes reflects on your life. I have been thinking about my place in London. I am a stranger in a foreigner land (like one of those dramatic indie films lol). I find myself looking up and around like Mary Tyler Moore (old school television reference- look it up lol).
I realized something to me as I traveled through this foreign land that my Ph.D. still gives me privilege here. I begin to think of it the show Dr. Who. Dr. Who is a BBC show and cult classic based on the journey of a Time Lord and his human partner traveling through time and space. They are travelling on a sentient space ship, TARDIS, helping people and saving civilization. The ship is disguised as a phone booth. Dr. Who regularly changes. The show's premise is that this is a life process of Time Lords through which the character of the Doctor takes on a new body and, to some extent, new personality, which occurs after sustaining an injury which would be fatal to most other species. It reminds of my privilege, but also made me realize that is not me but the Ph.D. that holds the power. Like Dr. Who the actor can change, and the power is with position. Who symbolizes that it can be any one. The real power is in the title. So me and the Ph. D., I went to the annual lecture sponsored by the journal Sociological Review to listen to a discussion of Claude Levi-Strauss and race and France by French sociologist Eric Fassin. I will discuss this at a later date after I process it more. It was alot to take it in. (Its like I went to Golden Corral and ate too much. I need a couple days lol). I am starting to get an idea of race in UK and Europe in general. At the wine reception after the lecture (I looked out of place drinking orange juice lol) I had a great discussion with Eric Fassin who provided insight on the French and race. I will talk about it later. So I am learning alot about race and gender ( which I am keeping secret for now lol) but also am examining my place. The dismembered arm of Amenhotep III, who ruled ruled Egypt 1390 1352 B.C., seen as you enter the British Museum. Day 3 I woke up this morning (Does noon count as morning?) and decided to go to the British Museum. It’s in a different part of the city, so I am excited to not only see the arts but another side of London. Every time I walk up the stairs to the tube, I feel like Alice through the looking glass: what new world awaits; where’s the Mad Hatter and the Cheshier Cat? lol. There’s something to the idea of not knowing what’s on the other side. It’s an excitement that the regular routine cannot match. Anyway, once I get there I’m pretty excited and do not know what I will see and experience. When I walked in, the museum was big and impressive. And I was curious. My mood changed though when at the entrance I was greeted by Egyptian artifacts. To most in this would, this is not be a big deal, but I have traveled to Egypt twice and have seen artifacts not in museums but in the original temples, burials, tombs etc. I know many Egyptians hated that Europeans took many of their sacred treasures while desecrating holy ground. Cultural appropriation and exploitation ran across my mind. I see the head and arm of Imhotep III. I have seen his body in Karnak. I think, "It doesn't belong here". I see people fist bumping his outstretched fist which is positioned in a weird way as you enter the museum (see above picture). Instead of being by the side of the head, its laid in a position that further symbolizes the fragmentation the Egyptian culture feels after European colonization. I see person after person fist bump the amputated arm and I think, “Its a "fist bump of privilege!" I began to look at the museum very differently. All these amazing pieces of art seem to scream at me to take them home. They belong in the land with their people. The British Museum has little British art in comparison. It’s mostly from other cultures from people of different beliefs. I began to think, "How can privileged people learn anything?" "Who benefits from museums like this?" One that houses a collection built not from friendship but dominance. Not from understanding but from spectacle. I walked through the museum and the exhibits were amazing, but they felt out of place. I walked into the India exhibit and got an eerie feeling. Like an unrested spirit was saying, “you better get out here.” Which I did immediately lol. I asked various people if they ever felt that feeling in the museum. All said “no.” I then thought about the story of the tomb of King Tut. (Here's a link) Where everyone that disturbed the tomb which was supposed to be cursed, died mysteriously within 5 months. Or the movie poltergeist. There’s so much capitalism associated with artifacts. Rubber ducks in Pharaoh head dress, Ahura Mazda on bags, mini Nefertiti heads. I'm not buying replica Egyptian artifacts in Britain! I will in Egypt . Or replica Assyrian soldiers outside the area outside of the Iran or Iraq. I don’t care if they are made by the same company lol. Its principle. It reminded me of George Ritzer's idea that consumption is the new religion and these cathedrals of consumption (like this) are built on replicating the enchantment of established institutions like churches. Malls, cruise ships, amazement parks and definitely grand museums all use familiar enchantment sell grandiose ideas. I think of the functionalist idea of poverty, One of the functions of the poor is remind the privilege how good they got it. I felt like all grand museums that house stolen appropriated artifacts do is reaffirm the people of the privileged nation. It does not make them more aware of their history or get a better understanding of different culture. The art in this context furthers ethnocentrism and reinforces dominant positions. Random comments from the day: When I am in the store, I get treated like a 6 year old because I am not familiar with currency and they often point and grab the amount needed to pay. lol People in Baltimore would love these small streets. They are jaywalkable lol. |
Myron Strong
professor. learner. traveler. emerging artist Archives
November 2018
Categories
All
|