Sunday, February 16, 2014

Fruitvale Station should win an Oscar, but it won't. And it's because Normative culture cannot properly experience it.

       I can tell you why Fruitvale Station didn't get nominated and it's not because its lacking any artistic depth or cinematic intricacy. The movie is crafted to catapult street culture or inner city culture onto the big screen without diminishing it by giving into the hegemonizing effects of white suburban culture. However its use of what I dub "Street Aeshetics" has prevented it from entering the good graces of Oscar land. Mainstream media is not ready to get rid of its elitist academically driven judgement of society and high art rejects art that has been made with clay and sidewalk pavement (much to the dismay of many dead artist who relied on such materials to get by). Street Aesthetic praises city culture and rages against the notion of "nothingness". It preaches building up your community, not getting out. Or if it does preach about getting out, the voices waiver, embroiled in a struggle between where they are from and a foreign land that is suburbia. This reliance on Street Aesthetic to tell a story is in my opinion a budding art form and as long as inner city kids like me are foolishly given a college education from an Elite institution, soon we will  see a shift in the critical discussion of art. You need a city kid to spot it, but anyone can interpret and analyze a movie through the lens of Street Aesthetics. Street aesthetic is unique in that it serves two purposes.
      The first purpose and the one I consider to be primary is the impetus to emotionally move those from the inner city with its content. It is the Oscar award winning movie (or Pulitzer Prize novel or Game of the Year game) that can be easily understood and more importantly empathized with by those from the inner city. It doesn't cut corners or create a tidy depiction of Oscar Grant. Instead it portrays him through the eyes of his own culture. He is a man of faults, but the weight of those faults that are typically over sensationalized by the mainstream media are instead contextualized by the people around him. This movie is jarring for most non-inner city folk because it forces them to reconsider their stereotypical notions about the black man who is a criminal. To many people black men who do crime are the problem. They plague the black community and make up a large percentage of the black community (or as some people have phrased it to me, are the "loudest" in the black community"). These assumptions make it ok to hold preconceived notions, otherwise known as stereotypes, about black people.
      But Fruitvale Station fights against this stereotypical portrayal. Instead it takes the incarcerated black man and portrays him as the Father, the Son and the animus of the community. He is not perfect, but he is an integral part. One, who is from the inner city, cannot help but relate with Oscar Grant. He is your neighbor or your best friend. He is no different from many people in our lives and even for some of us he is much like ourselves. If you find yourself disagreeing, then you are most likely not from the inner city and therefore cannot easily connect with the cultural content being displayed. For once the cultural capital needed to interpret art is found on the side of a building in graffiti as opposed to the footnotes in a Norton Anthology.
      Does this seemingly foreign cultural complexity make it impossible for non-inner city people to be able to connect to the movie? No. This hurdle is tied to the second purpose of Street Aesthetic. Street Aesthetic is cognizant to the hegemonic forces at work in its medium. Therefore it strives to bridge the gap between those who are being mediated by white suburban hegemonic culture. This bridge often comes in the form of an outsider looking in. For Fruitvale Station the girl at the supermarket, Oscar's mom and the married man are three bridges provided to non city audiences. The girl at the supermarket allows Oscar to show the universality of his humanity. Oscar isn't only a black man who cares about black (Latino/Asian/Minority would probably also fit here) people, but someone who cares about the people around him. Setting him up with ulterior motives such as him trying to get his job back, allows the audience to safely maintain their preconceived suspicion of his character. His mother who is portrayed to raise him well and to be a secure role model in his life, exists to connect to the audience, who is mouthing (inside) with Oscar's mom the chastisement she gives him for his poor life choices. However, her wisdom and reliance on normative institutions ultimately fails her in the end, resulting in the death of her son. Finally, the man who Oscar meets outside the area where his girlfriend is using the bathroom represents the perfect bridge between two individuals. The man portrays himself as a rags to riches story, which required him to also cross the line between right and wrong, thus bringing himself down to the same moral compass of Oscar. The only difference is this man somehow created his own start up. The movie does not explore why the prospect of Oscar doing the same is very small, but instead brushes it off and creates a scene of camaraderie that borderlines unbelievable. The notion of them having this deeply reflective and personal conversation does not seem out of the realm of possibility, but the man handing his business card did seem a tad incredulous for a man who just met Oscar in the hazy euphoria of New Years Eve. Then again perhaps New Years Eve is the only time those shenanigans would take place. Regardless, the man exist to allow non-city audience members to finally relate. They begin thinking, "wow, I misjudged Oscar he is more like me than I thought." This misconception is necessitated by stratification. If you want an audience you need to connect with those with money somehow. I am not saying that those from the inner city cannot possibly understand or empathize with the story of Oscar Grant. I am merely suggesting that movie is cognizant of the cultural gap between it and its audience and it strives to fill that hole with a series of bridges that serve as cultural training wheels.
         The impulse of many reading this is probably to laugh. Many might think that this notion of "street aesthetic" is a fantasy developed by a cultureless and artistically inadequate inner city kid. However, I know that the movie uses powerful imagery that can only be fully understood with knowledge of city culture. The use of the pitbull, a commonly misunderstood dog, slaughtered in the movie creates a powerful foreshadowing of Oscar's death. The pitbull is consistently used for dogfighting in street culture, but it's also used for protection, a first line of defense if you will. The pitbull is the ADT for a poor inner city family. Also, the location by the water and it being referred to as the place by the water mirrors the small pockets and "safe" havens one must find in order to regain sanity in the city. The closeness to water is a common trope, of escaping the suffocating experience of the city.These are only two, I can go on and on about cultural signifiers that the movie uses.
          Street Aesthetic does not ignore race, but race isn't a pre-requisite to engaging with it. What I mean to say is that just because you are black doesn't mean you have the cultural capital to engage with street aesthetic. There are plenty of blacks who will watch Fruitvale Station and be unable to connect with some of the themes in the movie. Just as there will be Latinos who connect far more strongly with the story of Oscar Grant. Does this strip him away from his blackness via a homogenizing "urban" label? No. Ingrained in inner city culture is a necessity to categorize by race and ethnic background. One cannot separate the race or ethnicity from the person because the city constantly reminds you about those identities. I'm unable to speak about this from the black perspective (I am not black), but I know that there are some themes in Fruitvale station that will not be understood by any individual who has not experienced inner city culture. The same is probably true for some of the black experiences portrayed in the film, ones that I cannot fully understand without engaging with black culture (and many experience I'll never fully understand). The point trying to be stressed (and possibly quite poorly) is that Street Aesthetic both affirms ones racially driven experiences, while removing the subordination of a racist society on said experience. It also acknowledges a "melting pot" (and I use that word while wincing) experience one faces in the city where we certainly are forced to deal with a hodge podge of individuals (often time minority). Furthermore, these minorities have strong communities that have stores that carry their own traditions and way of life, making it common for one to experience culture in a more visceral manner as opposed to those who are forced to branch out into a predominantly "this or that" neighborhood, where one culture is the context for all others existing.
     I finish this exposition of "Street Aesthetic" feeling quite unsatisfied. I have so many questions that I haven't yet sorted out. First, I wonder if a movie that does no provide a bridge for a non inner city viewer would still be considered Street Aesthetic. I also foresee a stringing racial critique of my use of blackness in this essay. I can understand how this might be read as a threat to black culture, but I feel many blacks from the inner city who read this will see it more as an accurate interpretation of the dynamics of race and class. Also, when we work with social class more, one will find that the city experience isn't only germane to the poor, making the dynamics of middle and even at times (though rare) upper middle class a problematic element in many of these films. It's hard to watch the scene between the married man and Oscar and not feel a little perturbed by the huge disconnect between the situations of the man and Oscar. I really appreciate anyone who decided to waste their time reading this far into this post. I understand that the musings of an undergraduate commands very little respect. Feel free to insert your own observations. I strongly believe that this is the beginning of a new critical discussion of art. One that serves to undercut the bourgeois theory that most of my peers work from, completely ignorant to how the normative white, upper class assumptions they bring into the world.
      

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

When the wealthy pretend to be poor

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sylvia-gindick/my-empty-fridge_b_4724981.html?ir=College

Above is the article I'm referring to in the post. It's written by a fellow U of M student. I have no idea what the author's financial situation is, so I don't want to insinuate that I think the author herself is part of an upper-class that is "pretending" to be poor. I am merely saying that the way the writing is structured begins with a complaint that stems from a wealthy point of view and then uses a subtle switch and bait to conflate poverty with their issue. 

Watch out for the switch and bait. The article claims to be about balance and food, but its true issue lies in economic instability. In fact, the most compelling portion of the article comes when it cites issues faced by poor students who struggle with eating options due to money constraints. The beginning of the article is front loaded with a variety of factors the author faces and while I'm slightly sympathetic to many of them, to compare Ann Arbor to a food desert is a bit ridiculous (which is insinuated with this line "I was not warned of the food imbalance written into the environment, replete with liquor stores, bars and restaurants, yet lacking an affordable grocery store.") Then when it cites the statistic that 40 percent of UM students feel insecure about food, I become curious about how much of that statistic is due to financial instability or true lack of access. I cannot speak for other campuses, but I have plenty of friends who live in apartments and manage to get groceries every other month if they have the necessary funds to do so. Access is never the issue when you have bus services that take you to Meijer. Is it annoying to do groceries at Meijer and then have to take them onto the bus? Yes. But when you're a poor student who came from a place where fresh produce and a huge supermarket of groceries was a rarity, then the trek is more of a nuisance rather than a serious barrier. The author was right about one thing: food choices are about trade-offs. But I rarely find my friends stressing over whether they'll have access. Most of their issues stems from economic instability. Either they don't have the money to purchase their groceries or they are too busy working for the money to buy groceries. This article doesn't emphasize economic instability as the pressing concern. Instead it puts economic instability on the same order of magnitude as a well off student who simply doesn't have enough time in their day to take a trip to the grocery store (notice that a well off student doesn't necessarily have endless amounts of money, they have economic security which might mean just enough afforded to them by their parents to buy groceries, but we shouldn't immediately assume that they can afford the far more expensive grocery stores). Even the complaint concerning expensive grocery stores stems back to economic disparity. So what's your beef Raymond? They mention all that stuff in the article. Yes, but the article is titled "My Empty Fridge" when it should be titled "My Empty Pockets".

Further Musings: Another thing I want to avoid is "Rich shaming". I'm not saying wealthy students don't have the right to complain about lack of access to the best quality of food. That's fine. In fact I encourage it. But don't conflate the issues of the poor with your issues. They aren't the same. 

Monday, February 3, 2014

I'm not a person of color, but I'm not white

                         The term person of color has been irking me for quite awhile. Not because I don't think it's an appropriate term, but because I find so many people forcing me into it. The reason I'm not willing to identify as a person of color is because my skin color is what many would call "passing". Hell, if someone were to ask me what my skin color was I would say white. But I don't identify as white because that's not what I am. I'm Puerto Rican. I grew up Puerto Rican and there were plenty of people who made sure to ask the questions necessary to discover my Puerto Rican identity (it wasn't like I was hiding it). No one called me white once they found out I was Puerto Rican (unless they were trying to insult me) and I never had any desire to be White. So when I see this definition being used in the Michigan in Color section of the Daily "Person/people of color — or PoC — is a blanket term typically used to refer to all non-white individuals. ", I begin to scratch my head because I'm certainly a "non-white individual" yet I wouldn't ever consider myself a person of color. I've had people chime in mentioning my ancestors and also my ability to tan in the sun, but neither fact changes the reality that often when people see me on the street they don't immediately see a Puerto Rican. However, when someone who actually is a person of color is seen, their skin color is immediately noticed. I could never imagine how it feels to know that just by someone looking at you they are able to deduce that you are not like them. You are part of the "out group". This is an experience I have never had to have and it's all because of the color of my skin. And this isn't just for people who are "brown and black", but also Asians (Chinese, Japanese, Taiwanese, Korean, etc.) frequently deal with this instant visual recognition according to their skin color.
          The point is the term Person of color is lacking. It creates an implicit (in my opinion false) hierarchy within the minority community. Minorities all face forms of oppression, but when you designate spaces and terminology for people of color, then left out are those who don't fit in either person of color or white. Furthermore, PoC masks the differences in types of oppression minorities face. Latinos (black and white) face similar types of oppression. But the term person of color instead splits up the Latino community and instead suggests a connection between dark skin Latinos and other communities of color. While certainly the experience of being judged by your skin is relatable and can often be compared, this doesn't make it so that the experience you have will align more with someone of color (but not Latino) than someone who is Latino (but not of color). Intersectionality is important to consider here. White privilege as it comes in its manifested form of skin color also exacerbates this divide because many light skinned Latinos tend to do far better than their dark skinned brothers and sisters  (this is due to institutions of privilege that served light skinned Latinos). This socio economic divide, paired with the term "person of color" lends itself to a construction where the light skinned Latino is essentially white in their peers' eyes.
    Furthermore, the term person of color encourages a glossing over of the model minority legacy that still exists within the United States. To say that Asian Americans (Chinese, Korean, Indian, etc.) did no benefit from policies which specifically targeted blacks and Latinos in this nation is outright ignorance. Does this mean Asian Americans received no discrimination? Of course not, they were oppressed just as much as any other group, but the nature of that oppression was different. The model minority construct, which should not confine Asian Americans today (many in the Asian community have bravely spoke out against this term and continue to do so), has a legacy that still provides privilege. The term person of color does not provide a discourse about how Asian Americans, especially Indian, may have profited from conceptions of whiteness formed in the early 1900s. While eventually Indians were barred from White privilege, for a period of time the ability to claim Aryan ancestry was considered to be the pseudo scientific litmus test of whiteness, a test many Asians were able to claim they passed. The term person of color glosses over this history and instead inserts a narrative where all people of color (in quite literal terms) have a claim to "color". This propagates that Indians were always of color. Chinese were always of color.  Instead what should be emphasized is whether these groups were able to gain access to "whiteness". So do we remove the title of color from them? Again, no. They are still living in a present world where people still judge them according to their skin color. There is no pseudo science to whiteness now. The issue is that the term PoC, when used exclusively to dominate the discussion of oppression glosses over this reality.
        I deserve a voice and a space, which isn't currently provided for me at the University of Michigan. MiC seems to think that it is that space, but its insistence to use color as the prerequisite for entrance does a disservice to me and a disservice to many people of color. What I mean is if MiC were to accept my writing and be the space for me, it would distort the term PoC and expand it so that meaningful conversation about how skin color drastically affects peoples' lives would never be possible. My suggestion is to return to the term minority. The term minority is far more encompassing and can provide a space for all of those who are oppressed on this campus. Until this linguistic snafu is dealt with, then communities where there are many who can pass will begin to feel unwanted by their own communities and instead forced to assimilate into a white one.