Melissa Shah Nicole Cardoza Melissa Shah Nicole Cardoza

Avoid spiritual bypassing.

​Spiritual bypassing is to sidestep dealing with pain, strong feelings, trauma, etc. It can be helpful when we are not ready to confront difficult emotions in our lives. However, it is commonly used to avoid acknowledging privilege because doing so is inherently messy, painful, and requires continued awareness.

As a first-generation Indian-American woman, I’ve had periods of my childhood where I suppressed my identity in order to blend in. Being the daughter of immigrants is beautiful and complex, and even though I grew up in the most diverse county in the U.S., my sister and I were often the only Indian people in school and were called many of the offensive Indian stereotypes you can imagine. However, that doesn’t mean my experience is the same as that of every person of color. South Asians have privileges in Western societies that Black folx often do not. Even though the concept of ‘model minority’ is a harmful myth made to separate Black and Asian communities, it still has allowed me and families like mine to be perceived differently through Western culture. Yes, my family and myself have experienced racism - and still do. But to say all people of color have the same experiences would be to conflate and erase what Black communities have been enduring for centuries in the U.S To fuse them together is to bypass and thus invalidate the intergenerational trauma that lives on in our society.

In this piece, we’ll discuss how the failure to acknowledge one’s privilege and power can show up in wellness spaces. Sidestepping privilege with the excuse 'I do yoga’ (and therefore one should be ‘beyond’ all of these negative emotions) is actively harming communities of color.

– Melissa

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TAKE ACTION


  • Take a deeper look at the wellness brands and yoga teachers you follow and the language they use to promote their products, classes and retreats to you. Do you notice bypassing language or behavior?

  • Follow vital work being done by leaders in the yoga and social justice space, take their courses, buy their books, and pay them for their time. Remember, people are not resources. When you reference a person as a resource, you are saying that their sole purpose is for your (and predominately white people’s) consumption. Books, podcasts, publications, emails - these are resources.


GET EDUCATED


By Melissa Shah (she/her)

What is spiritual bypassing?

Spiritual bypassing is to sidestep dealing with pain, strong feelings, trauma, etc. It can be helpful when we are not ready to confront difficult emotions in our lives. However, it is commonly used to avoid acknowledging privilege because doing so is inherently messy, painful, and requires continued awareness.

Yoga has often been co-opted in the West as a feel-good practice where you are supposed to ‘empty your mind’ and achieve calm every time you practice. I’d argue that the actual function of yoga is to direct the mind, connect with your inner knowing, and to develop discernment and clarity. When yoga is practiced in its sincere form, it can bring up a lot of discomfort. There is a difference between having the appearance of processing something difficult and actually processing it. One of my teachers distinguishes this as acting out of patterning versus authenticity. Though on an individual level no one can truly know this distinction except you, the consequences of spiritual bypassing harm others. A common example is when someone shares something difficult they are dealing with and you immediately respond with “love and light” style advice rather than actively listening and holding space for their experience (Instagram).

How does it show up in wellness?

Spiritual bypassing in wellness is deeply embedded in societal conditioning. It’s most easily identified as constantly chasing the 'feeling good’ or, in other words, always chasing the light without sitting in the shadows. Sitting with what is can be incredibly uncomfortable and is therefore not as ‘marketable’ and ‘palatable’ for widespread consumption.

“Good vibes only,” repressing the full spectrum of emotions, being overly compassionate, and anger avoidance are a few examples prevalent in wellness spaces and in individuals who are deeply seeking relief from their past pain. Think of how many times you’ve been in a yoga class or scrolled your social feeds and heard students and/or teachers share how we are all the same or to ‘love and all is coming.’ In part, these are beautiful sentiments. But what do they actually mean in the context of the current state of our communities? In the context of hundreds of years of oppression against Black folx? Against Indigeous folx?

Privilege is being able to step in and out of these contexts at your leisure, without any difference in how you are treated or any difference in how you are able to move through society. Spiritual bypassing shows up so often in wellness that I feel it actually has warped into what is ‘normal.’ It is ANYTHING but that.

JP Gratrix (Instagram), a South Asian yoga teacher and author, distinguishes loving kindness and toxic positivity. She shares that cultivating compassion and loving kindness for yourself and those around you is not the same as only leaving room for positivity, particularly in the face of discomfort.


Here are examples of how spiritual bypassing sneaks into common phrases and interactions in wellness:

  • Saying 'love and only love will bring us together.' Love for our fellow neighbors is vital to our progress as a community, but excluding anything other than positivity isn’t being in a state of yoga. Understanding brings us together too.

  • ‘We are all one’, ‘we are all human’, or ‘stop creating division!’ Acknowledging our differences and listening to the stories of those who are left out of wellness spaces comes first (Instagram). True unity comes when we can acknowledge how we play a role in perpetuating disparities.

  • Asking your BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color) friends to acknowledge that you're doing the work to be a good ally. Also, wanting them to offer you gratitude for the work you should already be doing to better understand their experiences.

  • Using the central philosophy in yoga that ‘separateness is an illusion’ as a reason to reject the existence of BIPOC-only wellness spaces.

  • Using yoga terminology to bypass difficult conversations that challenge you and therefore invalidate the experience of the person approaching you.

What does it mean in relation to race?

Spiritual bypassing minimizes the experiences of marginalized folx. Neglecting to understand how generations of racism and brutality have affected Black communities and other communities of color is against the first ethical value of yoga, Ahimsa (non-harming). Practicing ahimsa is more than holding space for someone’s experience. It is holding space for your biases and internalized racism, too. Holding many things at once is not the easy path but the necessary one for collective liberation.

Invalidating painful experiences of racism is also an act of erasure (Facebook). It can cause BIPOC folx to feel that they need to continue to bury their own experiences and emotional responses in order to make room for the dominant culture. This can show up as BIPOC experiencing “freeze response” in response to racist actions, and when met with “Well I’m not THAT kind of white person. You should have felt comfortable sharing your experience with me.” This bypassing centers the white person’s importance rather than harm caused to BIPOC folx.

When yoga teachers fail to acknowledge current events that are affecting communities that are also underrepresented in wellness spaces, it harms students of color that are seeking spaces to feel seen and heard (Mic). It also prevents white students from learning the unmistakable intersectionality of yoga and social action.

When you are practicing spiritual bypassing, you are deceiving yourself into thinking you have attained a ‘higher state’ of being than you actually have. This harms everyone as it is a misuse of yoga. As you deepen your yoga practice, you don't become “above” this world. You become more of this world. You see more clearly the injustices in the world you live in and better understand your role and purpose in taking action.


Key Takeaways


  • Spiritual bypassing is avoiding dealing with strong and difficult emotions, pain, and/or trauma. It is often used in the wellness industry to avoid acknowledging privilege and the harm white-centered spaces cause to BIPOC communities.

  • It is harmful because by bypassing the history of racism in the U.S., white communities turn a blind eye to their complicity in racism and cultural appropriation in wellness spaces.

  • Spiritual bypassing actually limits one’s spiritual growth and the ability to develop clarity and discernment - the actual purposes of yoga.


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Isiah Magsino Nicole Cardoza Isiah Magsino Nicole Cardoza

Preserve Palo Santo and white sage.

The wellness industry in the U.S. is rooted in the concept of self-care. But, when we look beyond our own wellbeing, it’s clear how detrimental this approach can be to other communities. One popularized practice is the act of smudging, an Indigenous spiritual ritual to cleanse the soul and space around it (Huffpost). Many people use Palo Santo or white sage, which are medicinal, ceremonial, and sacred plants. As smudging moves its way into the mainstream, the demand for Palo Santo and white sage grows – negatively impacting the Indigenous communities from where the practice originates.

Happy Thursday, and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. The wellness industry is rife with cultural appropriation. Today, Isiah shares his insights on the appropriation of Indigenous practices, and how it relates to a long history of colonization and whitewashing.


This newsletter is possible because of our gracious supporters! Consider giving 
$7/month on our website or Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that support!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Instead of buying sage and Palo Santo from large corporations, buy them from Indigenous-owned wellness companies like Sister Sage and Whispering Winds Shop.

  • Learn more about how sage is used in Chumash healing practices (Chumash people have stewarded the land now known as Southern California).

  • Follow Indigenous creators like @notoriouscree, @dineaesthetics, and @tiamiscihk, who continue to use their platforms to educate people about different Indigenous cultures and issues.

  • Consider: How do your wellness practices honor – not appropriate – their ancestral lineage?


GET EDUCATED


By Isiah Magsino (he/him)

The wellness industry in the U.S. is rooted in the concept of self-care. But, when we look beyond our own wellbeing, it’s clear how detrimental this approach can be to other communities. One popularized practice is the act of smudging, an Indigenous spiritual ritual to cleanse the soul and space around it (Huffpost). Many people use Palo Santo or white sage, which are medicinal, ceremonial, and sacred plants. As smudging moves its way into the mainstream, the demand for Palo Santo and white sage grows – negatively impacting the Indigenous communities from where the practice originates.

While the practice of smudging began with Native ceremonies and traditions passed down from generation to generation, companies are now using the practice as a way to spread ideas of yoga and wellness (Beauty Independent). Back in 2018, fragrance brand, Pinrose pulled back their “Starter Witch Kit” from Sephora after receiving backlash from activists about the appropriation of Indigenous medicinal practice in commerce (Refinery 29). Urban Outfitters sold smudge sticks and marketed the product on social media with the caption “cleansing your Insta of negativity” (fashionista). These instances of major retailers profiting off of smudging perfectly demonstrate the definition of cultural appropriation. And, while some Indigenous people believe that selling smudging products is fine, they’re still concerned about whether mainstream consumption will erase its significance (Huffpost).

“We are in a battle of keeping the sacred sacred,” says Ahsaki Chacherie, the founder of the Ah-Shi Beauty. “And it hurts because it’s not being used for its true purpose.” Chacherie isn’t the only Indigenous person to think so. Palo Santo originates from Indigenous peoples in Central and South America. Translating to “Holy Stick” in Spanish, shamans used Palo Santo to offer grounded and clearing energy (Mitú). Native shamans used Palo Santo to aid the dying on their spiritual journeys to the afterlife (Yoga Journal). Some Indigenous people believe that this wood should be given to you only by a shaman to ensure it’s being used appropriately (Refinery 29).

White sage is native to the Southwestern United States and Northwestern Mexico. It was used by Indigenous communities native to those lands to cleanse, purify and ward off negative energy. Many Indigenous groups performed thoughtful rituals, which have been all but abandoned in its modern-day use. The ceremonial burning of white sage begins when participants ask an elder’s guidance to properly gather the plant. This ensures the harvest is sustainable, never taking more than necessary. These plants are not merely used as tools; they’re considered respected relatives that deserve gratitude and intention (Beauty Independent).

The demand for white sage and Palo Santo also contributes to a growing environmental issue. As beauty and wellness brands continue to gentrify the practice, these endangered plants are being overharvested (Beauty Independent). According to the United Plant Savers Medicinal Plant Conservation, there are less than 250 mature Palo Santo trees (Bulnesia sarmientoi, a species that grows in Paraguay, Argentina, and Bolivia) in the wild (Triluna Wellness). There are even instances of illegal harvesting of white sage (Daily Bulletin). While Indigenous companies harvest Palo Santo and white sage sustainably, consumers rely heavily on larger chains for the plant. Regulation for proper harvesting is proven difficult (Yoga Journal).

Often, the colonization and devastation of Native communities are considered part of the past. But these issues persist to modern-day (Beauty Independent). Indigenous people and their cultures continue to be exploited and ravaged for the sake of capitalism and “progression” in society while Westerners commodify sacred traditions for self-indulgence (Forage and Sustain). When White settlers first came to North America, they banned Native Americans from practicing their spiritual traditions, including using ceremonial white sage (Forage and Sustain). To commercialize a sacred ritual, then running the source to near extinction, and finally not using it for its true purpose is predation at the highest level. For wellness enthusiasts, answer this: Is your wellness worth the expense of Native practices and traditions?


Key Takeaways


  • ​Palo Santo and white sage are used by Native communities all over the Americas for ceremonial, spiritual, and medicinal purposes. They’ve served as grounding rituals throughout time.

  • As the wellness industry continues to push its use, the two sacred plants have become endangered as the demand is causing overharvesting.

  • Wellness brands often market Palo Santo and white sage in the wrong way. Each plant has specific uses and origins. Not just to “cleanse the bad vibes.”

  • Native Americans were prohibited from performing many ceremonial rituals when white colonizers first arrived.


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Honor Cinco de Mayo.

Today is Cinco de Mayo, which represents the anniversary of Mexico’s victory against the French forces of Napoleon III at the Battle of Puebla, on May 5, 1862. (Contrary to popular belief, the date is not Mexican Independence day, which is celebrated on September 16). President Benito Juárez had canceled its debts with European countries, incending France and causing them to invade. Although the Mexican army, led by General Ignacio Zaragoza, was outnumbered, they won after the day-long fight. Many of its members were Indigenous Mexicans from various backgrounds who united in solidarity against a common enemy (History).

Happy Wednesday, and welcome back! Yesterday, while writing this article, I was reminded of the definition of solidarity on the Black and Asian Feminist Solidarities' website. "Solidarity at its core is about relationships." As you read about the history and significance of May 5th, consider: what does it look like to be in relationship with this date? What does it look like to be in relationship with the strength and progress it represents? I hope you learn something new from today's newsletter!


As always, we welcome any support for our independent news. Consider giving 
$7/month on our website or Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that support!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Donate to a mutual aid network in your community, particularly one that supports the Latinx community. Here is a list of mutual aid by state, but do your own research, too!

  • If you choose to participate in the Americanized version of the holiday, shop from Latinx-owned restaurants and businesses. Shop Latinx has a curated selection of goods.

  • Don’t practice cultural appropriation – today or any day.

  • Reflect on what solidarity means to you: How can you practice solidarity more authentically? Who in your community is modeling solidarity?


GET EDUCATED


By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

Today is Cinco de Mayo, which represents the anniversary of Mexico’s victory against the French forces of Napoleon III at the Battle of Puebla, on May 5, 1862. (Contrary to popular belief, the date is not Mexican Independence day, which is celebrated on September 16). President Benito Juárez had canceled its debts with European countries, incending France and causing them to invade. Although the Mexican army, led by General Ignacio Zaragoza, was outnumbered, they won after the day-long fight. Many of its members were Indigenous Mexicans from various backgrounds who united in solidarity against a common enemy (History).

But this wasn’t just a fight about money. Some scholars believe that the French were looking to invade Mexico and set up a base to support the Confederate South, which was in the midst of fighting the Civil War. The North had stopped exporting cotton to France during this time, forcing textile manufacturers to lay off workers. France saw an opportunity in forging a new alliance, helping the South maintain the institution of slavery in exchange for cotton (Remezcla). If Mexico had lost that battle, France could have colonized Mexico and potentially influenced the outcome of the Civil War (wbur). The French did gain control of Mexico City a year later, but by then, the North had an advantage (Remezcla).

Mexican American activists in the U.S. during that time celebrated the victory, recognizing the potential ramifications. But the holiday of Cinco de May in the U.S. didn’t go mainstream until the 1960s. Chicano civil rights activists, noting the solidarity represented in the historical event, revived the celebrations as a mark of pride and recognition of what we can achieve – together (wbur). By the 1980s, brands had co-opted the celebration to capture revenue from the growing Latinx audience historically overlooked (NYTimes). And, making the holiday mainstream offered brands – particularly alcoholic ones – to commercialize a cultural reason for everyone to drink in early May. The date is now one of the biggest days for beer sales in the U.S. each year (NPR). Meanwhile, in Mexico, observing the anniversary of the battle only happens in Puebla, where it occurred (wbur).

This date is also rife with cultural appropriation – fake sombreros and mustaches, insensitive costumes, made-up Spanish words, decorations that reflect Dia de Los Muertos, etc. Much of the practices related to Cinco de Mayo don’t truly honor Mexican culture and history. But avoiding appropriation on this date isn’t enough: today should also celebrate the importance of solidarity, and resistance, that protects our unique cultural identities.

And in these times, solidarity couldn’t be more urgent. The national debate over immigration and racist comments by former President Trump has led to hate crimes against the Latinx community increasing steadily since the 1990s, peaking in 2019 (NBC News). Latinx Americans are 3x more likely to be hospitalized because of COVID-19 than white Americans (CDC). And the number of people crossing the border from Mexico has remained at a twenty-year high over the past few months (Washington Post). U.S. authorities took 172,331 migrants into custody in March, including over 17,000 children and teens without their parents (Washington Post).

There’s nothing wrong with getting some tacos and a drink after work today – without appropriation and socially distanced, of course. But if you’re going to participate, consider that this day represents far more. To truly honor it, recognize the depth of its history, and stand in solidarity for our collective liberation.


Key Takeaways


  • Cinco de Mayo represents the anniversary of Mexico’s victory against the French forces of Napoleon III at the Battle of Puebla, on May 5, 1862.

  • The defeat of Napoleon III's troops was a strong statement against colonialism, and prevented French from being more involved in the U.S. Civil War.

  • This holiday has been commercialized and Americanized, obscuring its true historical significance.

  • Honor today by standing in solidarity and respecting Mexican and Latinx culture.


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Reject appropriation in fashion.

Until its end in 2019, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show reigned supreme in not only pageantry and glittery wings but also cultural appropriation. Leaked photos from the 2012 live show revealed that supermodel Karlie Kloss donned a large feathered Native American headdress paired with a fringed suede bikini accessorized with turquoise jewelry. Though the immediate backlash caused the look to be cut from the broadcast, it wouldn’t stop the lingerie conglomerate from finding itself guilty for the same crime again in 2016 and 2017 (CRFashionbook).

Happy Friday! And thanks for being here once again. We often get questions on what the line is between cultural appropriation and appreciation when it comes to clothing. It's not a straightforward line, but it's necessary to understand who benefits – and who is harmed – when the fashion industry celebrates cultural and ethnic markers at the expense of the communities it represents. Here to share more is Isiah.

This newsletter is a free resource made possible by our paying subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our websitePayPal, or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that have contributed!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Boycott labels that continue to appropriate cultural aesthetics without proper accreditation. Ask yourself: Have they collaborated with an artist, designer, musician that identifies with the culture they’re trying to emulate? 

  • Hold brands accountable by sharing issues publicly, contacting corporate PR and design teams, and refusing to buy products from these companies. 

  • Stay informed about racism and diversity in fashion by following accounts such as The Fashion Law and Black in Fashion Council.  


GET EDUCATED


By Isiah Magsino (he/him)

Until its end in 2019, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show reigned supreme in not only pageantry and glittery wings but also cultural appropriation. Leaked photos from the 2012 live show revealed that supermodel Karlie Kloss donned a large feathered Native American headdress paired with a fringed suede bikini accessorized with turquoise jewelry. Though the immediate backlash caused the look to be cut from the broadcast, it wouldn’t stop the lingerie conglomerate from finding itself guilty for the same crime again in 2016 and 2017 (CRFashionbook)

But these aren’t the only places where appropriation happens. Fast-fashion retailer Zara is no stranger to cultural appropriation.  The brand came under fire in 2018 after knocking off the traditional baati style from Somali by calling it a Tie-Dye Maxi Dress (Allure). Some brand insiders argue that the outfits are meant to celebrate cultures from around the world, but this misunderstanding of what’s appreciation and what’s appropriation is another flaw the fashion industry must fix (BBC). (To learn more about the problems with the fast-fashion industry, check out our previous newsletter.)

By definition, appropriation is when a person from one culture adopts the fashion, iconography, or traditions from another culture (Very Well Mind). While the act might not sound that bad, the issue lies when the borrower (who often belongs to the oppressive or dominant culture) profits off of, falsely represent or exploits whatever is being borrowed (Reach Out). As cultural appropriation remains widespread amongst the white elite, the issue isn’t necessarily that they take inspiration from other cultures. It’s that those in power take from and profit off of Black and Brown creators, while such creators are excluded from recognition and oftentimes reprimanded for the same styles that are being stolen (Vox ATL). For example, singer Billie Eilish was accused of appropriating Black, hip-hop fashion styles from the 90s. When her “style” is written about, the media often doesn’t credit the Black icons like Aaliyah and Dapper Dan whom her style ultimately emulates (Buzzfeed). Similarly, in 2020, Kim Kardashian was accused of appropriating Black culture after posting pictures of herself wearing Fulani Braids (Independent UK)

On a larger scale, cultural appropriation in fashion points to a racist system of power. Borrowed styles are often glamourized on white bodies, but looked down upon on the Black and Brown bodies where the styles originated. Fashion designer Marc Jacobs immediately faced backlash after featuring dreadlocks in a show with mostly white models in 2017 (Dazed). Using dreadlocks as a costume for a fifteen-minute show ignores the reality of the Black people who experience discrimination and harassment for their hairstyles. Black women continue to have career opportunities taken away from them simply because of their natural hair (Shape). Coils, afros, and dreads have long been considered “unprofessional” due to Western beauty standards which forces Black women in the workplace to abide in order to gain or retain employment (Shape). For more about cultural appropriation and Black hair, check out our previous newsletter.  

Similarly, the “fox-eye” trend is a make-up look that uses eyeliner to make the eyes appear more slanted. The irony is that the Asian American community continues to be discriminated against for these same features (Teen Vogue). Not only are the designs and beadwork of Indigenous people exploited by non-Indigenous retailers, but around the world, Indigenous people—themselves—are as well (Unreasonable). White people who appropriate cultures are able to move seamlessly in and out and borrow styles without suffering the consequences put in place by them.  

While white fashion designers and retailers profit off of these stolen styles from Black and Brown people, designers of color often are struggling and in need of financial support. In 2017,  four percent of women-owned fashion businesses and only thirteen percent minority-owned businesses received venture capital funding (Fast Company). As COVID-19 continues, an estimated ninety percent of small businesses owned by people of color are excluded from the Small Business Administration’s Paycheck Protection Program (Fashionista). 

Unsurprisingly, cultural appropriation in fashion isn’t new. Its origins can be traced through textiles and materials made of interlacing fibers that often are used in clothing and upholstery. For example, the nineteenth-century European court dress, a style that was popular for formal occasions, borrowed fashion and Asiatic themes that resembled the Indian Kashmir shawl (WWD). The textile moved into vogue among the masses as it was donned by Emperor Bonaparte’s wife, Josephine (WWD). At the same time that India was controlled by the British Empire and its citizens were subjugated to colonial rule, their styles were being stolen and worn.

The modern-day issue of cultural appropriation is a continuation of a history where people of color and their cultures are colonized and oppressed—at the same time—as what they wear is stolen and used. Today, social media enables consumers to more fully understand where styles are borrowed from (BBC). Consumers and inherent participants in the fashion industry should remain aware of where their money is being spent, as well as, who is benefitting from it. Conducting thorough research is vital in the support of Black and Brown artisans while, on the other hand, brands prone to appropriation instead of appreciation must be held accountable. 


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Cultural appropriation in fashion is rampant, and signifies the power differential between who can take and who is being taken from. 

  • Appropriated styles are often glamourized on white bodies, but denigrated on the Black and Brown bodies where the styles originated.

  • Cultural appropriation in fashion has a long history. At the same time that India was controlled and subjugated by the British Empire, Indian styles became fashionable in European courts.

  • While white designers profit off of appropriated styles, Black and Brown designers often lack financial support. An estimated 90% of small businesses owned by people of color are excluded from the Paycheck Protection Program (Fashionista).


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Kayla Hui Nicole Cardoza Kayla Hui Nicole Cardoza

Honor Mahjong.

Barely a week into 2021, a Dallas-based company called The Mahjong Line was met with outrage on social media for appropriating mahjong, a Chinese tile-based game that dates back to the 1800s (Stanford News).

Happy Wednesday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. I appreciate your readership. I missed a lot of news during last week's insurrection at the Capitol, but not today's story. I emailed Kayla to see if she'd want to cover it, but turns out she had already sent us a pitch! We've written about cultural appropriation a few times on the newsletter, so keep those stories in mind as you read.

Also, yesterday we discussed abolishing the death penalty. Later that day,
two executions scheduled for this week (Cory Johnson and Dustin John Higgs) have been halted by a federal judge.

Our work is made possible by our paid subscribers. You can financially contribute by making a one-time gift on our
website or PayPal or subscribe for $7/month on Patreon. Thank you all for your support!

Nicole


TAKE ACTION


  • Be a responsible consumer and shop at stores that do not appropriate mahjong and other cultures. 

  • Learn about mahjong’s history and hand carved tiles here

  • Educate yourself on why cultural appropriation is harmful here

  • Support local businesses in Chinatowns - where mahjong is sold and played - by donating to either Send Chinatown Love or The Longevity Fund.


GET EDUCATED


By Kayla Hui (she/her)

Barely a week into 2021, a Dallas-based company called The Mahjong Line was met with outrage on social media for appropriating mahjong, a Chinese tile-based game that dates back to the 1800s (Stanford News). 

Cultural appropriation is the act of using objects or elements of a non-dominant culture (when white people use objects, clothing, elements from Black, Indigenous, and other communities of color) in a way that doesn’t respect the original meaning, give credit to the original source, or reinforces harmful stereotypes (Anti-Racism Daily). 

Developed in the Qing Dynasty, the strategy-based game has been played and preserved by Chinese people for centuries. Mahjong consists of 144 tiles made up of three suits that have been carved with Chinese symbols. When Kate LaGere, co-founder of the company wanted to “refresh” the artwork of the traditional tiles because the designs were “all the same” and “did not mirror her style and personality,” she along with her two coworkers, Annie O’Grady and Bianca Watson gentrified the game. Rather than learn the Chinese numbers and symbols, the three white women replaced traditional Chinese glyphs with bubbles, thunderbolts, and bags of flour. By making the game palatable to a white gaze, they made the game harder to understand, and contributed to the erasure of Chinese culture and history.

On their website, they failed to mention and credit the game’s origins to the Qing Dynasty. And instead of giving proper credit to Chinese people, they attempted to justify their actions by differentiating between “American” mahjong and “Chinese” mahjong. In the 1920s, Joseph Babcock popularized mahjong in the states by creating new rules so that Americans could adapt (National Mahjongg League). Although variations of gameplay exist, any variation of mahjong is cultural appropriation because it neglects mahjong’s original rules. By placing the word American in front of mahjong, it creates an illusion that mahjong was created and developed in the United States. 

If changing the Chinese glyphs and calling mahjong American wasn’t gentrified enough, people can choose which mahjong set they want to purchase based on a quiz that asks for the ideal vacation day and theme song, another classic example of minimizing the game and colonizing it to make the game more suitable for white people. 

There are multiple reasons why the cultural appropriation of mahjong is harmful to the Chinese community. First, appropriation fails to acknowledge and give proper credit to the game’s roots. Failing to credit the game’s Chinese origins erases its history and cultural significance. 

Secondly, appropriation “makes things cool for white people, but too ethnic for people of color” (Everyday Feminism). By using the words “refresh,” The Mahjong Line insinuated that mahjong needed rebranding in order for the game to be enjoyable or played. Words like “rebrand” and “refresh” are codes for gentrification and colonization and further erase the game's Chinese heritage. 

The appropriation is further exacerbated when members of the dominant culture – white people – profit off of a culture that is not theirs. This causes harm to businesses of those appropriated communities. In choosing to sell exorbitant and appropriated mahjong sets, Kate, Annie, and Bianca have harmed Chinese businesses that have worked centuries to preserve the game’s craftsmanship. Although handcrafted mahjong is still being made today, the craft is dying due to the cheaper pricing of manufactured sets. By selling mahjong in the first place and upcharging these sets to $425, The Mahjong Line is contributing to cultural extinction. 

For BIPOC communities, barriers like racism and xenophobia hamper their ability to earn income from their cultural items. For example, BIPOC may face language barriers or lack the institutional power to earn an income (Everyday Feminism). Because of white supremacy, white people exploit culture and turn culturally specific tools into profit.

Back in the 1920s and 30s, mahjong became culturally important in Chinatowns. It allowed Chinese people to form and build a community at a time when they were excluded because Americans saw them as “perpetual foreigners” (Stanford News). 

When I saw mahjong - a game that has been a significant part of my identity, culture, and upbringing - gentrified, it rendered feelings of anger and frustration. Every year, my father’s side of the family hosts a family reunion, and there, I get to observe and play with my goomas (aunts in Chinese) and cow cows (uncles in Chinese). It is because of Chinese mahjong artisans that has allowed not only my family, but other Asian communities to play and enjoy mahjong today. 

Deniers of appropriation will say that anyone can play or learn mahjong. The problem is not that the game cannot be enjoyed by everybody. The problem is that it cannot be sold, produced, and branded by just anyone, especially by groups of people from cultures where mahjong did not originate from. 

Although the company issued an apology on their Instagram account on January 5, their attempt to apologize fell short. Rather than own up to their actions and apologize, their “we launched this company with pure intentions” was only an attempt to justify their actions. They also continued to use “American” in describing mahjong and failed to acknowledge or describe in any detail, steps to “rectify” the situation. 

Toward the end of the company’s statement, the owners wrote, “we are always open to constructive criticism and are continuing to conduct conversations with those who can provide further insight to the game’s traditions and roots in both Chinese and American cultures.” Despite this comment, they have disabled their comments and mentions on Instagram, silencing the communities they harmed. 

Kate, Annie, and Bianca were not alone in aiding in the appropriation. They had help from a branding company called Oh Brand Design and Plavidal Photography. Plavidol Photography has issued a formal apology on their Instagram and Oh Brand Design released a statement on their website and announced their terminated relationship with The Mahjong Line.

The appropriation perpetrated by The Mahjong Line adds to the long history of cultural appropriation that has been perpetuated in this country. We see this appropriation manifest itself in the form of sexualized “Indian and Asian” halloween costumes, non-Black people wearing braids or other protective hairstyles, white women wearing Indian saris, qipaos, and other traditional dresses to prom, and more (Centennial BeautyBuzzFeed NewsThe Washington Post). 

Mahjong is more than just a tile-game, it is the long standing symbol of Chinese culture and community. It is abundantly clear that through The Mahjong Line’s actions, they have contributed to further colonization and cultural erasure. As we continue into 2021, we must leave cultural gentrification behind and support Chinese mahjong artisans who have worked to preserve a tradition that has been around for generations.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Support Chinese mahjong retailers and artists working to preserve mahjong’s craftsmanship.

  • The Mahjong Line, a Dallas-based company owned by three white women appropriated and gentrified Chinese mahjong. 

  • Using elements, objects, or practices of BIPOC communities in a way that doesn’t respect the original meaning or give credit to the original source is cultural appropriation.

  • Cultural appropriation is harmful to the community whose culture is being appropriated. It fails to give credit to the creator, reinforces negative stereotypes about a group, and allows white people to profit off a culture that is not theirs.


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Don't be racist this Halloween.

If the world couldn’t be spooky enough, this weekend is Halloween. Its origins date back to Samhain’s ancient Celtic festival when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts (History) – although many other cultures worldwide have had practices that honor the dead. This practice has been adapted and evolved throughout history to what we see in modern-day culture in developed nations. But one sticking point has been the lackadaisical approach to costumes.

Welcome back and happy Friday. Growing up, Jasmine was my favorite Disney princess. Her skin was the closest to my shade (Disney didn't have a Black princess until 2009), she had a pet tiger (my favorite animal) and she had long, luscious hair, which I coveted as a child. I was thrilled to be her for Halloween in second-grade, and as Tiger Lily from Peter Pan a couple of years later. For both costumes, they were the only times I got to wear fake hair, and I remember feeling as pretty as the white girls I went to school with.

Now, I look back and see the layers of internalized racism I experienced as a Black girl in an all-white neighborhood, and the gross cultural appropriation of communities that I never got to learn about besides their glorified Disney stories on a TV screen. Although I certainly didn't mean any harm (nor did my family), I contributed to the whitewashing of marginalized communities – and minimized my own narrative in the process.

I think about this a lot each Halloween season, and this one is no different. I'm not sure what your plans are this weekend – I hope you're socially distancing – but nevertheless, it's a good time to reflect on how this holiday contributes to the narratives we discuss in the newsletter.

This is the Anti-Racism Daily, where we send one email each day to dismantle white supremacy. You can support our work by
giving one-time or monthly on Patreon (you can also support via PayPal or Venmo @nicoleacardoza). If this email was forwarded to you, you could subscribe to antiracismdaily.com.


TAKE ACTION


  • Research your costume before making a decision.

  • Choose a Halloween costume from your past that was inappropriate. Spend this weekend learning the real history of the community it comes from.

  • If you have the power and privilege to do so, socially distance this weekend. Remember that COVID-19 disproportionately impacts those most vulnerable. Do NOT expose them because you need to dress up and act foolish.


GET EDUCATED


By Nicole Cardoza (she/her)

If the world couldn’t be spooky enough, this weekend is Halloween. Its origins date back to Samhain’s ancient Celtic festival when people would light bonfires and wear costumes to ward off ghosts (History) – although many other cultures worldwide have had practices that honor the dead. This practice has been adapted and evolved throughout history to what we see in modern-day culture in developed nations. 

But one sticking point has been the lackadaisical approach to costumes. Nowadays, it seems that Halloween is the one day that people believe they can get away with wearing harmful and disparaging costumes of marginalized communities. 2020 is unique – we’re amid a racial reckoning, on the eve of a critical election, and limited in how we should celebrate because of a global pandemic. But that’s all the more reason to analyze how racial stereotypes are promoted through the festivities of the holiday. 

Before we dive into costumes themselves, we need to stop asking what’s racist racist and what’s kinda racist. Racist is racist. And all of it upholds systemic oppression. But society has trained us to believe that there’s an acceptable form of racism. Most of the white supremacy that perpetuates systemic oppression is overlooked, and only the most violent and blatant forms are condemned. This is often depicted using an iceberg; a small percentage of racist and oppressive actions are visible “above the surface,” whereas most are underwater.

white-supremacy-visual.jpg

Image via Attn.

The topics seen above the line in this graphic are referred to as “overt white supremacy,” and what’s underneath is “covert white supremacy.” But here’s the thing: what lies under the surface actually forms a foundation for the overt forms of white supremacy to thrive. If I had some illustration skills, I’d think about this more as roots and a tree. That’s a more accurate depiction of how to take action: we can’t just cut down the tree itself but uproot the entire plant.


So let’s start with the basics – the overt, so to speak. Don’t wear blackface. Don’t dress as any racial or ethnic stereotypes (as Madeleine Aggeler says in Bustle, “dressing up as an entire people instead of a specific person is a bad idea”). Don’t appropriate any cultures or beliefs. And while we’re at it, don’t wear anything to make fun of someone with a physical or mental disability. Also, let’s not dress up for anyone known for their racist ideologies, okay? Because pretending to be a white supremacist is an act of white supremacy. So KKK, Nazis are a hard no. But so are colonizers – references to incarceration or immigration, or dressing as sports teams that uphold racial stereotypes.

"
Treating other people’s cultures as a costume is the entire problem. It’s a problem if you are making fun of that culture; it’s a problem if you think you are lauding that culture.

Elie Mystal for The Nation

And there are some costumes this year that aren’t overtly racist but are definitely racially charged. I’d give some deep thought to whether dressing up as law enforcement is appropriate, especially if you are a grown person and will be wearing a mask – you could easily be mistaken for the real thing and make others feel unsafe. Dressing up as coronavirus during a global pandemic, after 220,000+ people have lost their lives to it, is also very tactless. Consider the power and privilege that may influence the decision behind choosing one of these costumes.

Many people ask where the line is regarding cultural appropriation when it comes to costumes based on characters in the media. And here, it does become more challenging (although we have to keep in mind that the media itself isn't always a gold standard of cultural recognition). Characters like Moana or the Black Panther have distinct ties to marginalized communities but have also become popular culture through movies and merchandising. The notion of whether people can dress up as these characters are hotly contested (read more on Black Panther in the NYTimes). But it doesn’t always make it okay. When you wear the costume, are you conscious of the narrative beyond the Disney storyline that the character represents? And how are you in relationship with the community, not just the character? These are the questions I wish someone had asked me when I was wearing the costumes mentioned in my intro.

Generally speaking, if you’re going to do the work to plan your costume, a quick internet search on how it will be perceived should be a part of your planning. But what often gets lost in these conversations is what more to do. And I think Halloween weekend can also stand for a time where we commit to learning more about the communities that are appropriated during this time. This can be incredibly powerful with children; understanding various communities’ history builds empathy, which is often a more lasting connection than discipline. Halloween isn’t about trick-or-treating if it doesn’t treat us equitably.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Halloween is culturally a time where many people wear costumes that include blackface and/or cultural appropriation, in addition to other oppressive and/or racially charged attire

  • Whether overt or covert, all forms of white supremacy are harmful, and contribute to the racist world we live in today

  • We need to move past dressing as characters to recognizing the unique cultures and identities of those we wish to impersona


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Don't do digital blackface.

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Happy Wedthursfrimonday? Hard to tell these days.

In an interview regarding his books “Home and Exile” and “Things Fall Apart, Chinua Achebe stated that “
the whole idea of a stereotype is to simplify.” But what happens when stereotypes become imitated, replicated, scaled and normalized because of social media? Today’s newsletter analyzes our nation’s history with blackface, blackface in the digital age, and who benefits from Black culture. It’s part of our ongoing series on cultural appropriation – catch up in our archives.

Thank you to all that give to support this newsletter. Please consider giving one-time on our 
websitePayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Or, pledge $5/month on Patreon. Your funds help pay staff and ensure this newsletter remains free.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


Research to find a specific example of a racist stereotype shared through digital blackface – like a gif, TikTok or other form of content. Consider the following:

What harmful stereotype(s) does this content perpetuate?
What was the intention of the person who shared this content?
What is the impact of the person who shared this content?


GET EDUCATED


By Nicole Cardoza

What's the deal with TikTok?

TikTok, a social media app with 100 million users in the U.S., has caught Trump’s ire. The app, known for highly-sharable short videos, often created based on viral themes, was created by ByteDance, a Chinese-based media company. Trump argues that the Chinese government could compel the company to share American users’ data or use the platform as a form of propaganda to worsen U.S. and China relations (Wired). Although it seems this is more a PR tactic than a national security threat, millions were outraged that they may lose their social media platform. Unsurprisingly, Instagram took this time to launch their TikTok competitor, Reels, which adds a copycat TikTok experience. This news also aligned with new criticisms of the app’s role in perpetuating digital blackface.

To understand digital blackface, we must start with understanding the history of blackface. Minstrel shows gained popularity in the 1830s in New York, where white performers with blackened faces (most used burnt cork or shoe polish) would don tattered clothing and imitate enslaved Black people. These performances characterized Black people as lazy, ignorant, superstitious, and hypersexual. They would intentionally make them hard to understand and prone to thievery or cowardice (NMAAHC). From the late 19th century and into the early 20th, these shows gained national popularity, moving with ease from stages to radio shows (NYTimes). Popular American actors like Judy Garland, Mickey Rooney, and Shirley Temple brought these caricatures to the big screen. And this imagery extended beyond performances to marketing anything “from tobacco to molasses to breakfast cereal” (NYTimes).

And these weren’t merely comical performances. These shows helped to build a national consensus of the role of slavery and discrimination against Black people. These tortured depictions “embodied the assertion that blackness was grotesque in itself because it could never achieve the mythical ideal of whiteness” (NYTimes). Consider that the first popularly known blackface character was named “Jim Crow” and depicted “a clumsy, dimwitted black slave.” The name became a common slur against Black people, so it was used to refer to the anti-Black laws implemented after the Reconstruction period (History). 

Also, consider that it took until 2020 for Aunt Jemima to change their branding based on these stereotypes (CNN), and Gucci thought that this turtleneck was appropriate in just 2019 (NPR). There’s a comprehensive list of public figures that have used Blackface (CNN). We are still watching blackface unfold in real-time. 

Unpacking Digital Blackface

The term “digital blackface” is a bit different. Coined by Joshua Lumpkin Green in 2016, digital blackface describes how technology enables non-Black people to appropriate Black culture and adopt Black personas (Wired). This trend is particularly relevant on social media, where likes and views reign supreme, so anything goes. Blanketed by the relative comfort of anonymity, anyone can leverage Black language and culture without claims to the experiences or identities that create the community.

We’re watching this unfold on TikTok in real-time. Jaliah Harmon, a 14-year-old who loves dancing, created an intricately choreographed dance to the song “Lottery” by the Atlanta rapper K-Camp and uploaded it to Instagram. The dance, called the Renegade, quickly got to TikTok, where it went viral. But Charli D’Amelio, a white TikTok dancer with the most followers on TikTok at the time, is considered its CEO because she, like many others, copied it without crediting its source (NYTimes).  Jaliah is only now seeing her due, but Charli charges an estimated $100,000 per sponsored post (Cosmopolitan), launched her own nail polish line dance and has been in a series of high profile partnerships, like dancing with Jennifer Lopez and appearing on “The Tonight Show” with Jimmy Fallon (Variety).


TikTok is designed for ideas to be shared and remixed, so what happened with Renegade isn’t surprising, but disappointing in a world that often undervalues Black women. But this same model fuels deeper harm against Black people, allowing, for example, white people to create videos lip-synching the words of Black people to exaggerate them, or imitating racial stereotypes – both of which sound more relevant to the 1830’s than the 2020s (Wired). As this comprehensive Wired article notes, TikTok users likely aren’t always doing it to be racist, but simply for the virality, clout, and followers. Nevertheless, disparaging posts on slavery, perpetuating police brutality against Black people, and other terrible stereotypes aren’t just posted, but encouraged, because of the algorithm.

:Virality often occurs through shocking behavior. Whether it's acting provocatively, bullying, or using racial slurs and stereotypes, a lot of users see that their questionable behavior gets a reaction, and that just encourages them”.

Morgan Eckroth, barista and TikTok user, in Wired

Although TikTok’s algorithm fuels this trend, digital blackface isn’t new. Vine, a similar social media platform that enabled users to create and share 10-second videos launched by Twitter, had several racist trends and challenges go viral on their platform, sparking accusations of blackface as early as 2013 (Metro). In 2016, Snapchat released a Bob Marley filter on 4/20 that literally gave users digital blackface and dreadlocks, which is both racially insensitive and minimizes the life and legacy artist (Wired). And AAVE (explained in a previous newsletter) is used so frequently across social media platforms that a TikTok user declared it simply “internet culture” (Daily Dot).


Digital Blackface and Gifs
 

Digital blackface manifests in other ways online. A common way is how many people use gifs of Black people and Black culture to express themselves, despite not being Black themselves. Certainly, we can all love a scene from a movie that just happens to feature a Black actor or feel that a kid’s facial expression suits how we feel right now, regardless of the kid’s race. But as Lauren Michele Jackson, the author of White Negro, explains in this brilliant Teen Vogue article, the gifs of Black people shared tend to depict overexaggerated expressions of emotions. And our society often associates Black people with being excessive. Consider the trope of the “angry Black woman,” the “angry Black man,” or the “aggressive Black boy”. These caricatures have been perpetuated in the media throughout history and used to justify condemnation, subjugation, and violence.  See Serena WilliamsChristian Cooper, and Michael Brown for specific examples.   

“Digital blackface in GIFs helps reinforce an insidious dehumanization of Black people by adding a visual component to the concept of the single story”.

Naomi Day, Speculative fiction and Afrofuturist writer, on Medium

Beyond digital blackface, there are more common ways people can use Black culture and imagery fo their gain. They may seem innocuous but are just as harmful. Consider how, after the protests, brands started using more photos of Black people on their social media feed, despite not addressing internal culture or practices that contribute to their oppression. Although they’re not directly adopting a Black culture or persona, they are trying to align themselves with a community that they haven’t earned the right to represent


What do we do about it?
 

This isn’t to say that an individual sharing their favorite gif or jumping into a TikTok trend is inherently racist. It’s the system that these actions are couched in. As we’ve explained in other posts regarding cultural appropriation, Black people experience significant discrimination and harm for expressing their culture – while white people are celebrated and compensated for it. I’m not taking away your favorite gifs for the sake of doing right. It’s another opportunity to keep doing the work. As you speak in a cultural language that’s not your own, consider what it says for the people who speak that culture fluently.

And social media platforms have a responsibility to protect their users from harm. The worst part of the TikTok story is how Black creators on TikTok are regularly experiencing racism harassment and censorship on the platform, especially when speaking up against these issues (Wired). And despite their public announcements, the company still hasn’t taken sufficient action to protect and center the needs of the Black community, despite naming Black people as “the most inspiring, creative voices on our platform” (Wired). The safety and security of TikTok is in question, but not for the dangerous space it’s created for communities of color on the app. And as other companies rush to acquire or compete with TikTok, I hope they make mitigating digital blackface a priority.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Digital blackface describes how technology enables non-Black people to appropriate Black culture and adopt Black personas

  • Blackface has deep roots in the founding of America, and was used to normalize racist stereotypes against enslaved African people

  • The TikTok algorithm exacerbates digital blackface while exposing its Black community to harm

  • We need tech to take responsibility for digital blackface on their platforms, and hold ourselves accountable for our own actions


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Study Hall! Ebonics, capitalizations and cultural appropriation.

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Happy Saturday!

Here's a roundup of questions and insights from the past week. I'm calling these Study Hall now! We introduced some new topics this week in our newsletter series to act as a foundation for more nuanced, thoughtful conversations moving forward. Excited to continue to dive into this work with more perspectives as we grow.

If you haven't already, consider supporting this work with a one-time or monthly contribution. You can give via 
PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or give $5/month on Patreon

We're also posting sharing assets on Instagram @antiracismdaily.

Nicole

ps – many of send a note skeptical that we will receive it. But we do! We recently implemented something on our Mailchimp account called Conversations, which sends your responses to an inbox on Mailchimp instead of my personal email inbox. It makes it easier for our growing team to organize responses, and for contributors to log in and respond to you directly. It might look like you're sending your response to a random string of text, but we are receiving them. So don't worry!

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TAKE ACTION


1. Reflect on the questions prompted by our users and by our team in the responses below.

2. Ask yourself two questions about one of the topics we discussed this week. Discuss these questions with a friend or colleague.


GET EDUCATED


ICYMI: Last week's Newsletters

Friday July 17, 2020: Analyze representation in media.

Thursday, July 16, 2020: Respect AAVE.

Wednesday, July 15, 2020: End racial bias in school discipline.

Tuesday, July 14, 2020: Embrace your race privilege.

Monday, July 13, 2020: Respect the roots of Black hair. 

Sunday, July 12, 2020: Learn how air pollution exacerbates COVID-19.

Questions from the Community

What about the term Ebonics? How is that similar / different to AAVE?
In response to Respect AAVE from Thursday, July 16.

The word Ebonics and AAVE are essentially referring to the same language. Ebonics, a blend of "ebony" and "phonics" was coined in the 1970s and popularized by African American psychologist Robert L. Williams (Hamilton College). Although the term itself isn't a slur, the word Ebonics is often used that way. I noticed that AAVE was used more frequently in the resources I gathered, so stuck with one term in the newsletter for the sake of clarity.

Aren't there other forms of English that we discriminate against, like "country twang" or "Southern accents"? Why are we only making a big deal about AAVE?
In response to Respect AAVE from Thursday, July 16.

Yes! There are other accents and dialects that people discriminate against all the time! And it's equally unfair that we do that. When we talk about AAVE specifically, we focus on the discrimination that contributes towards a larger, comprehensive system of racism against Black people. But this insight isn't intended to detract from harm that may happen when we judge how anyone speaks, only illuminate one specific instance. 

This type of questioning can be an honest, thoughtful reflection. But often, this type of criticism is a common argument against anti-racism conversations. And, to the reader that submitted this, I know you were challenged like this when you shared this newsletter with your friend. I group these into the "all lives matter" arguments – the argument that if everyone is somehow impacted, then there can't be a specific issue on one group of people. Trump recently said this himself about police shootings (LA Times).  

If all people can be harmed by discriminatory practices, or harmful systems, shouldn't we all be trying to change them? Yes, many people can be judged unfairly because of how they speak. And it's a major barrier for Black people. So how do we adopt practices that prevent that from happening to anyone? Yes, white people get killed by cops, too. And Black men are 2.5x more likely to be than white people. So what policies can we implement to ensure all people don't lose their lives?

What people often forget is that when we center those most vulnerable, or most marginalized, in policies and practices, we tend to create more equitable spaces that positively impact the lives of everyone.

Shouldn't we all agree on one common language that's taught at schools and used in workplaces? Is it not acceptable to expect coworkers to use SAE in a professional setting? What’s the appropriate way to make space for AAVE being the mother tongue of Black coworkers while having SAE be the default language at work?
In response to Respect AAVE from Thursday, July 16.

Personally, I challenge the idea that there has to be one common language that we embrace, and would prefer to see our schools teach several types of English. What notions have we been taught about dominant culture that define the idea that there's only one "professional" language appropriate for schools and the workplace? How could embracing multiple forms of language improve workplace culture? Encourage students to feel more comfortable learning?

What's the reason against using an uppercase W when referring to white?
In response to Embrace your race privilege from Tuesday, July 14.

A couple people this week asked about capitalizations, which we covered in an earlier newsletter on June 25 (read Capitalize the B in Black and I in Indigenous here). The newsletter offers various opinions on the subject, and most major publications are using the lowercase w for white, likely because of the points in this paragraph (an excerpt from the newsletter):

The need to add respect and understanding to the Black community is also in response to whiteness. I mentioned above that acknowledging Black and Indigenous as a community helps to "articulate the common challenges," and these challenges are an effect of being marginalized and exploited by dominant culture (more on that here). Some use this point to argue against white being capitalized, because white people already have enough power and don't need further acknowledgement. In these cases, some writers also note that white supremacists often capitalize white to demonstrate that they should remain in power. I paraphrased a detailed perspective you can read here >

We follow this approach in our editorial guidelines.

Where is the line with cultural appropriation? Can I wear Dutch braids, that might look similar to other forms of braids worn by Black people but are actually from my European ancestors? Can I wear a kimono to a Japanese celebration where the attire is appropriate? Can POC wear lederhosen to Ocktoberfest? What about the Native American earrings I bought in New Mexico to support local businesses?
In response to Respect the roots of Black hair from Monday, July 13

The voices here at Anti-Racism Daily cannot possibly speak on behalf of everybody on the appropriate way to culturally appreciate all cultures, backgrounds, and heritages. I encourage us to think beyond the binary when it comes to anti-racism work. There are certainly clear and deliberate actions we can take against more blatant forms of racism. But the more nuanced and subtle ways that we perpetuate systemic oppression have more nuanced and subtle responses, too.

Instead of seeking a stamp of approval*, ask yourself these questions instead. Reflect on how your participation in culture is appreciating it, or appropriating it. To which extent are you minimizing the voice and perspective of other people in your participation? Are you mocking it or degrading it? Are you using the culture of someone else to make yourself seem cooler, edgier, more "exotic"? How did you come across the items you're wearing? Who profited off of what you bought? Why did you buy these items, and how do you plan to act while you're wearing them? 

Harm happens when we don't think about the impact of our actions and only focus on the intent. So sit deeply with these questions. And know that we ultimately can't control how anyone feels about anything that we do.

*I'm not insinuating that you all emailed with these questions for a stamp! I'm simply emphasizing that this type of reward-based behavior isn't the right approach.


CLARIFICATIONS


Learn how air pollution exacerbates COVID-19, Monday, July 13
Tommy sent a note that scientists now believe COVID-19 is a vascular disease (which still affects the respiratory system), not a respiratory disease as this email initially stated. Learn more on The Daily podcast from NYTimes. This will be updated in the archives.

Analyze representation in media, Friday, July 17
Helen, and a couple others, noted that Black soldiers are mentioned in Hamilton in the song Yorktown in the lyrics "Black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom" and in Your Shot with the lyrics "But we'll never be truly free / Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me / You and I / Do or die / Wait 'til I sally in on a stallion / With the first black battalion". Although I believe Ebony meant to emphasize a mention beyond lyrics (as in dialogue between characters, plot points, etc), the email as written is factually untrue. This will be clarified in the archives.


PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Embrace your race privilege.

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Happy Tuesday,

I read dozens of responses to these emails each day. So many of you are asking thoughtful, sincere questions in response to topics because you're understanding how much power you hold in your communities, workplaces, and families to change conversations for good. And many are also realizing the deep, emotional toll of being in this practice each day.

As we commit to being active anti-racists in our communities, we must first embrace what comes with our privilege, especially the racial privilege we may have. I briefly covered this topic in the first email I ever sent for the Anti-Racist Daily (41 days ago! Feels like a lifetime). And I'll keep coming back to it. I believe all of us should. We must continuously locate ourselves, or, recognize where we are in this fight and what strengths we can leverage from our position. 

If you identify as non-white and have a story to share, 
send us a message. And as always, you can make a one-time contribution on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or contribute monthly on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Use this worksheet* to understand your race privilege. 10mins

2. Reflect by answering the following questions (alone or in a group).
How does your race affect you when you...

  • go to vote?

  • get your annual checkup?

  • interview for a job?

  • buy a new car?


GET EDUCATED


What is race privilege?

Privilege is, simply put, “a set of unearned benefits given to people who fit into a specific social group” (Everyday Feminism). There's a lot of different types of privilege, including privilege based on gender, sexual identity, able-bodiedness, academic background, and socio-economic status. But today, we're focusing on race privilege, which centers our racial identity.

These unearned benefits aren't just perks. Privilege comes with power, specifically "unearned power conferred systematically," a term coined by anti-racist activist Peggy McIntosh (read her full essay, White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack, in this PDF). This means that people with privilege tend to have inherent power simply because. The worksheet in today's action was designed to help build this perspective based on McIntosh' work.

A more modern take on unpacking white privilege went viral in June on Tiktok. Kenya Bundy created a list of 12 statements of experiences she's had as a Black woman, including "being called a racial slur, being denied service because of the color of your skin, and having to teach your child how not to be killed when dealing with the police" (Insider). Listeners can raise their hands and follow along, putting a finger down if each statement applies – a simple points-based system. Try it for yourself on Tiktok.


What is white privilege?

White privilege is especially important to understand because, in addition to everything written above, people with white privilege are also granted the "power of normal". Our society (U.S.) is built around whiteness as the default. Tolerance.org, a platform that creates resources for educators to help them lead a diverse, democratic future, has some great examples of how this shows up in everyday life (Tolerance).

A super easy one: What skin tone pops into your head when you read the words "flesh-colored"? Most colors that are called nude and flesh by brands are light-skinned. In fact, it took ALL THE WAY UNTIL MAY 2020, a whole 135 years, for Crayola to create a series of crayons that represented a broad set of skin tones (Lifehacker).

But the greatest privilege that white people experience, according to Ibram X. Kendi, is the privilege of life itself (The Atlantic), a privilege made so acutely aware as we watch police brutality and COVID-19 highlight the inequities people in the United States – and around the world – experience because of race.

We need to remember that white privilege didn't happen by accident. These benefits are the product of a system that's built on white supremacy. White privilege wouldn't exist if we didn't live in a world that has been systemically marginalizing people of other races. You can see this play out in other forms of privilege, too. The privileges associated with being a cisgender man wouldn't be possible without a long history of patriarchy and sexism. So because we have created a society that aims to normalize white people in positions of power, we also normalize violence against other groups.

As you move through today's exercise, notice how these scenarios don't just demonstrate power, but power in relationship to whiteness, the normalized and default expectation.

“White privilege is an absence of the consequences of racism. An absence of structural discrimination, an absence of your race being viewed as a problem first and foremost”.

― Reni Eddo-Lodge, Why I'm No Longer Talking to White People About Race

Privilege is intersectional.

There are many more factors that define our privilege than just race. And I know that today's exercise looking at race privilege alone omits other critical factors like socio-economic status, gender and sexual identity, able-bodiedness, academic background, and other critical parts of our social location that make up who we are. We discussed intersectionality in more depth in our article about elevating the voices of Black women and Black trans lives in the Black Lives Matter movement. All of the components of our unique identities define how we show up in this movement.

But that doesn't mean that your intersectionality excuses you from acknowledging and embracing your white privilege. Even if you grew up poor, or are marginalized by your sexual orientation, you still have white privilege if you identify as white. That racial privilege still gives you relative power to help dismantle racism, and can likely support you in advocating for the health and safety of other communities you're a part of, too. 


Embracing privilege means living with the discomfort.

This section is particularly for our white readers who benefit from white privilege. With this privilege comes the responsibility not just to leverage this power, but move through the emotions that come with it. Unpacking privilege and its contributions to centuries of harm is not easeful work, but necessary. And remember that these difficult emotions can prevent you from being a more active part of the dismantling work.

White fragility, for example, looks at how quickly people that benefit from white privilege can become defensive or angry when privilege is challenged (KQED). And white guilt and white shame, two other difficult emotions that can arise when processing white supremacy and the violence it upholds, can be dehabilitating (this PDF on white guilt offers a comprehensive overview). It's why investing in self-care, along with anti-racism training and workshops, on both an individual and community level is so critical to helping this work move forward.

Also, understand the concept of "white exceptionalism," which anti-racism author and educator Layla F. Saad explains in her recent interview with NPR. This is an unhealthy practice where people who identify as white aim to label themselves as "one of the good ones," in attempts to shield themselves from their participation in the system. People who practice white exceptionalism have to believe that they're one of the good ones, but, according to Saad, there is no bad or good. "This isn't about your inherent goodness as a person. We're talking about the ways you're unaware of causing harm to other people. Because you're not aware" (NPR).

And searching to be good or bad is a privilege in itself. It's a practice of centering how the perpetrator is perceived, as opposed to the outcome for the individuals harmed. Consider this as you ask questions on interpersonal racism, like microaggressions and cultural appropriation. Are you asking these questions to shield yourself from being seen as racist? Or, are you asking these questions with the intention of understanding, listening and learn, and make space for others? Are you using your questions a way to process your emotions, and if so, how else can you process them?

Remember that you are not alone as you unpack your racial privilege – especially when you actively bring others into this conversation. Gather your friends and family who have similar racial privilege as you to move forward, together. This work needs all of us.

*Worksheet from the Tri-County Domestic & Sexual Violence Intervention Network Anti-Oppression Training for Trainers. Created by Carol Cheney, Jeannie LaFrance, and Terrie Quinteros in 2006.

“You do have to acknowledge the advantages you receive personally as a white person, but the work is about understanding and changing systems. You have to understand that every system in the United States was created structurally and legally to serve white people, and you have to take personal responsibility for changing a system that treats you better than everyone else”.

― Joseph Barndt, PISAB trainer and author of Understanding and Dismantling Racism: The Twenty-First Century Challenge to White America, in SELF


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Understanding our privilege helps us further understand how we can move anti-racism work forward

  • White privilege doesn't erase other aspects of our intersectional identities

  • Unpacking white privilege is emotional and necessary work


PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


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Nicole Cardoza Nicole Cardoza

Respect the roots of Black hair. 

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Happy Monday!

Today's email is the first in our series on cultural appropriation – another potent question and inquiry in the newsletter responses. It's a broad topic that can't be fully expressed in just one newsletter (or maybe even 100). But as you read them, ask yourself: who is allowed to celebrate the culture of marginalized people in our society? What does stealing culture for coolness look like, vs. honoring it with reverence? 

Ebony's comprehensive overview on natural hair is a good place for this conversation to start. And a good continuation from 
last week's newsletter – if you dove into the links, you'll see that comments about hair tend to be a common microaggression that non-white people experience.

If you identify as non-white and have a story to share, 
send us a message. And as always, you can make a one-time contribution on PayPal or Venmo (@nicoleacardoza), or contribute monthly on Patreon.

Nicole

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TAKE ACTION


1. Sign the CROWN Act Petition to encourage states to ban hair discrimination in workplaces and schools.

2. Reflect: Have you experienced hair discrimination before? If not, how would you feel if you were sent home from work because of a hairstyle that has cultural ties to your racial identity?

GET EDUCATED


By Ebony Bellamy

Cultural appropriation and hair discrimination


Within the last 10 to 15 years, cultural appropriation has become a term we can’t avoid hearing. Whether it’s Vanessa Hudgens being called out for wearing box braids (Allure) or a fashion designer sending mainly white models down the runaway in cornrowed, lace front wigs (Essence), more and more people are adapting aspects of Black culture, especially when it comes to hair, without understanding the history behind these hairstyles or respecting the people who created them.

What exactly is cultural appropriation? Cultural appropriation can be defined as, “the adoption or co-opting, usually without acknowledgment, of cultural identity markers associated with or originating in minority communities by people or communities with relatively privileged status” (Dictionary). This term is normally used when Westerners of all races adopt aspects of Eastern culture into their own or when non-POC use elements of a marginalized group’s culture to be trendy. 

A repeat offender of cultural appropriation is Kim Kardashian West – who has, on numerous occasions, worn Fulani braids (Teen Vogue) and referred to them as “Bo Derek braids.” Bo Derek, a white woman, wore this hairstyle in the 1979 film “10” (IMDB), and in 1980 People Magazine credited Derek for making them a “cross-cultural craze.” But, what People Magazine and Bo Derek failed to do was understand the history behind this hairstyle. 

Fulani braids originate with the Fulani or Fula people who are from West Africa. Hair played a significant role in African culture and society then and was used to identify someone’s social status, religion, age, marital status, and the clan they belonged to (Africa.com). Hairstyles were even passed down from generation to generation.

When African women were brought to America during the slave trade, their heads were shaved as a way to strip them of their identity, humanity, and culture (Essence). Once in the states, the complex, ornate braids they used to wear had to evolve into simple, easy to manage styles. These new braids became more functional and even developed a new level of importance.

Enslaved people used their braids as a form of communication to relay messages about freedom without their masters’ knowledge. “People would use braids as a map to freedom,” explained Lori L. Tharps, an associate professor at Temple University and the co-author of Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America. For example, the number of plaits an enslaved person wore would indicate “how many roads people needed to walk or where to meet someone to escape bondage” (Essence). 

When enslaved people gained their freedom on June 19th, 1865, women started abandoning their braids and cornrows and preferred straightening their hair to appeal to society’s standard of beauty. And for several decades, straightened hair became the norm for Black women in American society (PBS).

“A braid was a sign of unsophistication, a downgrade of [a Black woman’s] image”.
 

Lori L. Tharps, associate professor of journalism at Temple University and the coauthor of Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America, for Essence

The way Black women viewed their hair changed in the 1960s when the Black Power Movement gained momentum. This movement encouraged Black people to embrace their African roots and culture. And over the last 60 years, Black hair has become a symbol of self-love and perseverance which is why Black people get upset when non-POC wear hairstyles that have deep roots in Africa. It hurts to see non-POC wear hairstyles because women such as Kim Kardashian West and Kylie Jenner wear them to be trendy and don’t understand the cultural history behind them. Read Hair Story: Untangling the Roots of Black Hair in America to learn more about the history of Black hair.
 

Why is it harmful?

When non-Black women wear braids and cornrows, they’re unknowingly removing the cultural significance behind them and misrepresenting how people should view Black women when they wear similar hairstyles (Essence).

And despite the fact that white people culturally appropriate Black hairstyles, Black people themselves are still judged, criticized, and shamed for reclaiming their own cultural identity. Black hair has created harmful stereotypes that have caused people to make inaccurate assumptions about what they deem “acceptable.

Students have been sent home because their hair doesn’t fit into the school’s “hair” policy (CNN). Chasity Jones had a job offer revoked after refusing to get rid of her locs (Teen Vogue). Black children are growing up thinking their natural hair will never be enough. When they’re being reprimanded by school officials and watching their white counterparts have the freedom to express themselves with their hair, they’re subconsciously being taught white is better. 

Ever since Black people were brought to this country, they’ve been facing discrimination based on aspects of themselves the average person would never be asked to change. This is why the introduction of the CROWN Act in 2019 was so monumental. This initiative aims to end hair discrimination in a country that continues to rip Black people of their cultural identities, urging states to pass laws that make hair discrimination illegal. Six states – California, New York, New Jersey, Virginia, Colorado and Washington – have signed on so far (Glamour).

“The passage of the CROWN Act in New York State makes a clear statement that we value black people and will not tolerate policies that attack their dignity,” New York Assemblywoman Tremaine Wright, who worked to have the CROWN Act passed in New York told Teen Vogue, “I hope that young women see this and understand that their hair in its natural state is beautiful and should they choose to wear their hair naturally they should not be subjected to discrimination. I want young women to celebrate their autonomy, self-determination, and natural beauty.”

The 2020 Oscar-winning animated short Hair Love, which features a Black father learning how to style his daughter’s hair, kickstarted another natural hair movement and hopefully, this inspires society to embrace natural hair. Natural hair is beautiful and until Black people are able to wear their hair how they like, we shouldn’t praise non-Black people for wearing the same hairstyles or give them credit for making it “trendy.” 

Instead, let’s respect Black hair for its roots in Black and African culture and identity.

KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Cultural appropriation is the practice of co-opting cultural identity markers that come from marginalized communities

  • Cultural appropriation of Black hairstyles is especially harmful, considering how many Black people experience hair discrimination to this day

  • Expression of Black hairstyles has deep roots to our history, during and before enslavement in America

  • We must end hair discrimination so that Black people can wear their hair without repercussions

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT


Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

Read More