I’d like to say first that the Columbian food in the video made me salivate. Mr. Munoz is doing a very beautiful thing. I was surprised when Sam said most illegal Mexican immigrants “close the door” behind themselves once they’ve crossed the border. I had expected them to regard their own race as family. I don’t know where I got this notion, but I’ve always thought Hispanics were a very unified race, characterized by their solidarity. Maybe I’ve learned nothing in Soc 119. Anyway, I was pretty disappointed learning that. But when we saw the video of Mr. Munoz, I was surprised a second time – only pleasantly, this time. As the details of his charity unraveled, I was more and more moved, although I couldn’t quite grasp the logic behind it. If he started so early in the morning to feed men by nine at night, didn’t the food get soggy? Did he really have that many mouths to feed because I didn’t see too many lined up in the video? I suppose some of the men could have been elsewhere at the time, but weren’t they homeless? Where could they have gone? I was surprised to hear that Mr. Munoz, a bus driver by day, wasn’t too well-off himself. It seemed he was more dedicated to feeding the homeless men than he was his own job. I was also surprised with the participation of his mother and sister, not to mention their dedication to the “project.” I guess it’s not so much a project since the purpose of their deed was solely to help out people with whom they identified, and their motives selfless. The term “project” suggests a sort of self-gratifying end result, even a planned byproduct. Either way, there was no scheming involved in the Munoz’s donations. Which brings me to my next point: the food isn’t canned – it’s home-cooked. The easy route would have been to buy mass amounts of preserved food (since he’s spending all of that money anyway – what was it? More than half of his salary?), but the fact that he and his family spend hours making food – food probably similar to that which the homeless men ate in their homeland – is more personal. I started to choke up when Munoz’s mother said that they made enough food for people to help themselves to multiple servings. They just wanted them to eat well and put the extra time into it to do so. According to the video, their food was the first meal most of these men had every day. At nine p.m. I’ll bet Mr. Munoz is touching many lives. I admire him for his taking initiative. Most people, after observing the starving and homeless illegal immigrants, wouldn’t think twice, especially in New York, where the image must be a familiar one. Or they might feel some amount of pity and carry on with their lives. Some people – other illegal immigrants like Mr. Munoz – might, according to the closed-door-custom, identify with the homeless men for what they went through but think that since they got through it without help, so should these immigrants. This kind of ties back to the blog entry/video on empathy to which I responded earlier.

Hickey

I’m very glad Sam played this in class because, otherwise, I never would have heard it. I’ve never gotten into “Daveeeeeeeee” and, although this song won’t really change my listening-ship, I have more respect for the band (plus the song was pretty catchy). And to be honest, despite the number of times Sam’s mentioned the “indigenous peoples” in class, I hadn’t ever really stopped to consider what he was saying. As a Korean-American – and I’m not proud of it – I guess I’ve just always dismissed the issues between American Indians and Americans as, well, just that. I figured that it didn’t apply to me and, as such, it wasn’t so bad that I ignored it. I had never really thought about their mass murder as genocide. I had never thought it comparable to the Holocaust. And I’m willing to say I’m not alone in my ignorant mindset. For the same reason, most people hardly think about the war in Iraq. It doesn’t directly apply to us, so it’s difficult to care. It’s a social flaw. The lyrics of the song really moved me. Especially at the end, with the line “Don’t drink the water, there’s blood in the water, don’t drink the water.” It really forced the image into our minds of the injustice done to the Native Americans. And I realize that the injustice continues today. But now we’re (again, assuming I’m not alone) left wondering, what can be done to change this? What can I do but understand?
I also couldn’t help but to remember my only encounter with Native Americans which was about seven years ago. I was on vacation with my family and we were touring the corner states. Our tour bus (that’s right, we were a family band) stopped briefly at a Native American reserve. At least that’s what I think it was. I was surprisingly more ignorant back then. Anyway, we were walking through some exhibit and a Native American employee (whose “hotness” I remember noting) was wiping down a class case near us. Looking back, I am annoyed with my attitude towards them. They were such spectacle, something to be observed. Their “dying” culture and people were so interesting to us. Like something to be studied. And I realize that I am just like the “Americans” who are to blame for the injustice towards Native Americans. I viewed them as a thing, not as individual people. And not that I actually believed I was better than or above them, but the fact that I recognized that I was there observing a culture I believed at the time not to really exist anymore is like an American thinking he has nothing to do with the injustice that his ancestors started. It’s unjust even to just know what happened and what is happening still and to ignore it. I think I lost my point somewhere in there. But maybe my point was just that this song/video made me care.

Tuesday’s lecture confirmed my ignorance. It seemed I couldn’t get a break from feeling shocked. I was constantly reacting to something, whether it was laughter or gasping or choking up. The guy next to me was asleep, and I was astounded. I entered the lecture hall a little late, but, from what I can gather, Sam said this lecture would be the best lecture of the semester. I’d argue that it was. I liked that the lecture was not only moving, but also informational. There was a ton of information Sam covered that I could only have speculated. He confirmed mere guesses of mine like that the war was about oil. He called most of us out for not knowing the difference between Afghanistan and Iraq. I felt both ashamed of my ignorance and appreciative that he was clearing things up. I especially enjoyed the exercise Sam ran throughout the class, during which we were to listen to his lecture and answer his questions from the perspective of an Arab-Muslim. I think the number of people who actually try to “put themselves in another’s shoes” are heavily outnumbered by those who like to think they do. It’s tough. But in forcing us to, and with his passionate yelling, Sam really moved the class. I’ve never witnessed them so captivated. For once, the lecture hall wasn’t humming with side conversations. I left class that day, feeling such passion for, I don’t even know what. I felt moved. I wanted to do something, but I didn’t know what I wanted to or could do. I empathized with the Arab-Muslims in America who might feel such hostility towards and from Americans…ah I am out of time…Sorry.

As a woman, I found the information revealed, or rather reflected on, about women during Thursday’s lecture more interesting than what was discussed about men. It dealt with latent and buried beliefs, rather than things I could have assumed. Also, the information on women was more personal, boosting its appeal. I walked out of class, kicking myself for not taking notes. But the discussion was moving so fast and I didn’t want to risk tuning out for a second. I found myself nodding along to a lot of what Laurie and Sam were saying – we adapt to see through the masculine lens, we don’t even notice we’re doing it, and we blame it on ourselves when we can’t live up to the male ideals. But I felt the conversation riding dangerously close to feminism. Not that either professor was advocating it, but I could feel myself reaching for that annex of my mind whose entrance I had recently blockaded. Yeah, our culture is translated through male terms. Yeah, women are passive to men’s needs. Yeah, it paints us as pathetic. But once I got past the judgment, it was interesting to hear how views emerged. And I identified with most of them. Flipping things around and asking what sex in a female-centered world inspired a necessary shift in perspective. I wondered if the men in the room agreed. It made me wonder if and how we could change this. If these views are so ingrained in us and root back to before we can remember, it’s kind of like racism, you can’t really reverse, let alone eradicate, it. I guess all I can do is focus on modifying my own views. Fortunately for me, the bit about the bedroom life doesn’t really apply to me because I happen to be with someone who understands the female body. But I do primp up a bit, especially before going out – why? I do for the most part share the common views on how girls are “supposed to” look, how to look like a girl. I think it’s this awareness that’s swayed me to rebel against some of these, sort of, ideals. But I still abide by most of them. That’s what I mean about what I could have assumed from the lecture. I’d already acknowledged that our culture revolved around men, I just never understood fully to what extent and how we got there. I didn’t fully understand that I was a participant in perpetuating it. I felt embarrassed. I felt resentful because it is true what Sam mentioned about men fist pumping as opposed to sinking in their seats at the idea of having “conquered” the system or women. It is true that men can get away with a lot more than women. And I will cut this short to spare you the feminist rant.

I want to first address the difference between dating someone outside of your race and marrying out of your race. I mean, essentially, they could be grouped together under one umbrella. But a significant gap exists between them, at least in my family. I’ve been dating someone outside of my race for a year and some, and our relationship initially didn’t pose any obstacles. My parents didn’t take our relationship seriously because it was still new and because they didn’t expect it to work out. At the time, it came as a shock to me, when I first started to notice their attitude towards my boyfriend and me. They had never explicitly said anything about marrying within my race, but their feelings began to surface gradually. Especially after some time had passed and they started to realize that I didn’t view my relationship as a casual fling. My sister mentioned it first, saying, “You know why they’re not a fan of him, right?” I was genuinely confused. They didn’t like him? “It’s because they want you to marry Korean.” I WAS OUTRAGED. SINCE WHEN? But I slowly pieced it together – why they never put much effort into getting to know him, why they hardly asked about him. I kind of had to pry it out of them, but eventually I received confirmation that, yes, it would be “much easier on the family” to date within our face. It kind of sucked coming back to Earth and opening my eyes to the fact that my parents didn’t support us. But I tried to see it from their perspective. Who am I kidding? I dedicated all of one second to this. But I could understand. They wanted someone who could participate in the two annual Korean holidays in which we partook. They wanted someone whom they could invite over for dinner, not having to worry about pleasing his palate. They wanted someone around whom they could speak Korean freely. They didn’t even stop to consider that, maybe, he was okay with it. It was their discomfort that drove their forbidding dating outside of our race. Especially because at this point, marriage had become a concern to them – I was a junior in college. It was getting late and they were worried I would waste my years with him. And they couldn’t bother to entertain even the hypothetical idea of our being united as one family. I don’t know, based on solely my personal experience, interracial relationships are discouraged or create tension because of the parents’ assumption and sometimes false forecast of discomfort. I don’t think it has to do with rejection of a hybrid grandkid. I don’t think it has to do with racism. I actually don’t even remember what the question was. I probably failed to answer it. I apologize for the rant. Story time!

As is common for an Asian American, I had my taste of the anti-Asian “movement.” Sometime during my freshman year, I realized how inconsiderate and snotty some (I say some because my characterization of Asian or international Asian students doesn’t encompass everyone.) international students could be. At the time, it wasn’t even a matter of “could be,” but rather how they “were.” I hadn’t been exposed to international Asians until then, so it was kind of a shock how the people from my homeland behaved. They quickly painted a reputation for themselves for not holding doors and talking about passersby in their native tongue (I knew enough Korean to gather that the “fobby” – fob means fresh-off-the-boat – Koreans were talking bad about passersby to their faces). Now, I realize that not holding doors isn’t too big of a deal, but I use it as a broad example that encompasses basic manners. Some of them just weren’t considerate or weary of the people around them. It’s funny because that Youtube video of the UCLA student’s ranting about Asians in the library was pretty accurate in its claims. And their behavior couldn’t even be excused as oblivion because I began to notice this attitude in them. This hoity-toity attitude that you could observe from the placement of their noses in the air as they walked. They knew how loud they were being. A friend might have nudged them to quiet down or someone trying to get work done might have shot them a glance. But they’d turn to their friends, shrug and laugh. I was disgusted. Were they raised as royalty in their countries? And why were they so exclusive? I’ve received comments from Asian students before such as “Oh you’re one of them. Too good for us, huh?” in reference to the some of my friends’ being American. It set a hostile divide between me and other Asians. I didn’t think I was better than they were; I was just raised American and that was what I was used to. I’d attended a KUSA (Korean Undergraduate Student Association) meeting at the beginning of my freshman year and one of the members (or was it an officer?) made a derogatory comment about white people. I felt attacked in a way. On a side note, I have plenty of friends of different backgrounds. But these Asian students’ bad manners and poor attitude made me feel ashamed of my ethnicity and slightly guilty towards others who noticed. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to ask, “Why are Asians so rude?” I had no idea what to say. I didn’t know, but in a way I felt attacked too. I became more self-conscious of my actions, noticing when I forgot to hold a door or walked on the wrong side of the sidewalk and kicking myself for possibly justifying or promoting the bad rap Asians had earned. I felt myself at times wanting to reverse it somehow, almost wanting to apologize for my “people’s” discourtesy. But I was feeling guilty for something that I wasn’t completely responsible for and it made me mad. I wouldn’t say I’m still hostile towards international Asian students (I don’t feel an active emotion towards them), but the length of this blog entry and the fact that I still don’t go out of my way to interact with them, I realize now, says something.

Dubbing this guy “the quintessential white guy” seems a bit bold and too absolute. When I think of the quintessential white guy, his isn’t the image that comes to mind. I imagine intentionally torn blue jeans, obnoxiously oversized canvas flip flops and a backwards-flipped baseball cap complete with the Penn State emblem. But this could just be because that is all that is immediately accessible to me. If I look beyond my college years, this holster man could very well embody the typical white guy.
Let’s begin with the tacky riff opening the video and reminiscent of the programmed ringtones our old flip-cell-phones used to offer us. This could definitely fall on the list of “white” things in the video. His outfit carries this lead: polo shirt (need I mention the color?) tucked into blue jeans, all over a barely hidden white undershirt (who really wears these anymore?). His hair is somehow styled with gel, despite its very short length, and perfectly emulating baby blades of grass sprouting in a new lawn. He is clean-shaven to further demonstrate his conventional approach to life, and which isn’t uncommon in older white males. I’d say he looks more like the quintessential white dad than the quintessential white guy. But then again, don’t most white guys his age have kids? Moving on. He seems to take himself pretty seriously, with no time for jokes and using the word “heck” as opposed to “hell” in the beginning of the video. His formal speech leaves no room for slang or swear words. His speech is also pretty stiff. He jumps right into business. He falters in his stiff, calculated speech when he mentions the location of the holster, describing it as “a place where people nuh-hormally don’t look.” Referring to a man’s crotch as his “zipper” and the “awkward silence” that follows don’t help. He also reassures the audience before pulling down his jeans to demonstrate how to assemble the holster that he is wearing a pair of running shorts under his pants, claiming that “everything will be fine, so…” This all conveys discomfort on the subject of genitals and publicly addressing them. He stands with his feet shoulder-length apart, showing practicality and confidence. His movements are pretty confined, and he is mindful of his surroundings and careful not to extend his gestures beyond his boundaries. His gestures are rigid and boxy. Shifting focus to the topic of the video: a holster for your gun. No black man would buy a holster for his gun. He’d keep his gun in his back pocket. Or maybe I watch too much TV. I must note that none of these traits really validate characterizing him as the quintessential white guy. But if I had to dissect his every move and wardrobe decision, I guess this is what most people would conclude.

During this week’s recitation, my group discussed Sam’s attacks on white people for being ignorant or intolerant or more privileged. Basically, the white man is the “bad guy.” We noticed that, while other races get their share of discomfiture, theirs can’t compare to the berating the white race receives. Very curious, I thought. Could it be that Sam is being harder on his own race to demonstrate a level of humility? Or is he resentful towards his own race, as, he noted, can be common? Or is he trying harder to instill more awareness in the white race because he believes so firmly that they need their minds opened more than any other race – in which case, he would be practicing discrimination? Could it be that he believes white people are in denial of or ignorant to their prejudice and, furthermore, discrimination, towards other races? Or is their reluctance to admit to partaking in either a defense mechanism against Sam’s accusatory finger pointed in their direction?
I quickly came to a conclusion after hearing a unanimous “Neither I nor anyone I know is racist” from the white people in my recitation group. That’s an incredible claim to make, especially in such haste. A very small fraction of society can make the claim in honesty. Our society divides us into categories from birth, and we notice our physical and cultural differences from a young age. I have my prejudices. And actually, I identify more with the white race than with my Korean ethnicity. So perhaps that lends more insight to this question’s answer. If we are raised within a prejudiced structure, why are so many quick to deny?
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit ignorant. I’m ignorant about other races and I’m probably ignorant about my discriminating towards them. I’m willing to bet that most people share this ignorance, so there’s that theory.
And then there’s people’s natural and instinctual defensiveness. When Sam is up there, accusing them of something that may be only semi-true, people will latch onto the half that sheds more pleasant light on them. And then there’s the fact that the people who enrolled in Sam’s course did so voluntarily. No one wants views preached to them that oppose their own, especially in the mildly antagonizing manner in which Sam preaches. Sam’s students feel that they’ve already acknowledged and expressed an openness to learning about and living among other cultures and races, and they take some pride in that. With that considered, the white people, who are targeted as the most prejudice, in his class feel that Sam is unfair in singling them out. Of course then, they won’t willingly embrace their prejudice and admit to discriminating against other races.

This is for sure an interesting take. My mind has been conditioned to accept people as being innately selfish and violent and even to expect them to be so. It makes it hard for man to climb out from that hole. It’s almost like a black hole – every time someone does something wrong, it’s dismissed as human nature. But if it’s not, the human nature theory only provides him with an excuse and with room to keep making the same and maybe even more mistakes. It sucks in more “sin.” People lower their standards for themselves and for their “family.” There has been an obvious decline in our society’s values and morals, and it has everything to do with desensitization. Anyway, expecting the worst from people won’t yield positive results (being delightfully surprised when proven wrong), but only encourage the worst from them. I love this new, inverse take on human nature. I’m constantly impressed with what scientific research reveals. But the discovery of these mirror neurons and what they suggest aren’t completely news to us. We all can identify with the monkey in the video, and subsequently, with each other. We all have acknowledged before that we empathize with others’ emotions, and that has been attributed to “being human.” If we were to completely accept what the man in the video is saying, the focus would shift from creating excuses to cover up a wrong and giving ourselves too much credit for doing something good to simply just being good. We would expect nothing less than sociability, attachment, affection and companionship from each other and from ourselves. Personally, I would stop being cynical and apply the “put yourself in someone else’s shoes” idea more often. Knowing that a human being’s initial drive is to belong would lead me to give people the benefit of a doubt more and not to jump to conclusions so quickly. I would be more conscious of how my actions or mood come off to people around me, knowing that it is directly affecting them. It’s so easy to slip into the mindset that essentially no one cares what you do. And you feel like you can get away with a lot for the sole reason that people don’t like to get involved in others’ business. But what we’re oblivious to is that we’re constantly communicating a message to people around us, whether it be consciously or subconsciously. We must go through the motions again that we once did as children – selfhood and empathic development. It was interesting what the man said about empathy’s not existing in heaven, as it is the opposite of utopia. Empathy is something I would have figured could be found there. You’d think that heaven would be the place to find people getting along, accepting each other and bonding.