Sayaka Matsuoka Nicole Cardoza Sayaka Matsuoka Nicole Cardoza

Reject racial fetishization.

Of all the hospice patients in the United States, only 14% of enrollees are people of color (The National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine). While communities of color and low-income communities face the brunt of COVID-19, they also face a myriad of hurdles when navigating and accessing end-of-life care. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, people of color are up to 2.8 times more likely to die from the virus, underscoring the importance of end-of-life and hospice care for this population (CDC).

Happy Thursday and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Today, Sayaka outlines how racial fetishization often increases violence against people of color, particularly those in the LGBTQ+ community.

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TAKE ACTION


  • Work to bring awareness to the sexual violence perpetrated against people of color, particularly trans women of color by supporting the Trans Agenda for Liberation.

  • Express your support for the Survivors’ Access to Supportive Care Act, which will increase access to forensic nurses who provide comprehensive care to victims of sexual assault, by sending an email to your representatives. The act also increases support for tribal communities. RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network) has a good template here to do so. 

  • Reflect on your own current and past relationships and ask yourself why you are attracted to a person. Do misconceptions about race or ethnicity play a role?


GET EDUCATED


By Sayaka Matsuoka (she/her)

For as long as white supremacy has existed in the world, so too has the exotification and fetishization of people of color, particularly those who identify as women and femmes. Racial fetishization is the seeking out of a person or culture belonging to a specific race or ethnic group for sexual gratification. While some individuals may explain their attraction as a personal preference, historical research and context shows that choosing sexual partners specifically based on their race is problematic and rooted in white supremacy (Wear Your Voice Mag).

The fetishization and exotification of women of color dehumanizes the individuals that are targeted and denigrates them to objects that exist solely to fulfill the male gaze and appetite. It’s about taking a fully fledged, well rounded human and limiting them to one aspect of their being that they don't even have control over says Kevin Patterson, a polyamory activist and author. (Willamette Week).

In the United States, racial fetishization dates back to a time before the slave trade. White women often were seen as pure, innocent entities to be protected, while Black women were depicted as lustful and sinful (Thirteen). After migrating to African countries, white settlers objectified Black women and saw them as sexually promiscuous beings because of their attire or physical features (Jim Crow Museum). White owners often raped Black enslaved females referring to the women as their hypersexual property (Earlham Historical Journal). 

During the early 1800s, women of color were displayed in carnival freak shows to showcase their “exotic” features. One such example was Sarah Bartmaan, a South African Khoikhoi woman who was exhibited while scantily clad. Wealthy white people were given the opportunity to prod and touch her if they paid extra (BBC). The mistreatment of Black women continued long after slavery was abolished. These days, the ramifications of this type of behavior can be seen in the criticism of Black female artists like Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, and Megan Thee Stallion who own their sexuality and use it in their work. 

“We never address how cisheterosexual men’s sexuality facilitates some unhealthy practices that we’ve normalized and accepted,” writes Melissa Brown (Blackfeminisms.com). “Negative reactions to Cardi B result from how, historically, strippers were the objects rather than the subjects of the songs written from the vantage point of a male rapper’s voyeuristic and pornagraphic gaze.” 

Racist fetishization permeates other aspects of society and extends across all women of color. Indigenous women are depicted as sexual beings to conquer. Statistics show that they are most likely to be sexually assaulted (End Rape on Campus). Latina women have also historically been hypersexualized in American media, which often makes heavy use of the actress’ accent—real or forced—to create a sense of the exotic. 

“If I played a Latina, I always had to be too sexy and too easy. I hated that," explained actress Rita Morena (Latina.com). 

A study found that of the hundred top-grossing films of 2016, only 3% of roles were occupied by Latinx people—and of that, one-fourth of the women cast either appeared nude or in sexy attire (USC Annenberg). 

Like Black and Latina women, Asian women are hypersexualized as well, but in a different way. Historically, the media often portray East Asian women as being  submissive and childlike. Examples can be seen in the novel and movie Memoirs of a Geisha and the Broadway show Madame Butterfly. Lately, the stereotype is further perpetuated by members of the alt-right who see East Asian women as the perfect partners because of their perceived submissiveness (NY Times). The idea stems from other harmful stereotypes about Asians like the model minority myth which pits Asians against Black and Brown individuals. Read our past article about the Model Minority Myth.

“Asian women are seen as naturally inclined to serve men sexually and are also thought of as slim, light-skinned and small, in adherence to Western norms of femininity,”  Audrea Lim says in her article, “The Alt-Right’s Asian Fetish.”

Such ideas follow in the footsteps of nineteenth century European male fixations on geishas and China dolls. The subjugation of East Asian women continued well into the twentieth century when American GIs visited countries like Japan, Korea and Vietnam where the local women and sex workers often were raped (Institute for Policy Studies).

The issues of fetishization are even more complicated for members of the LGBTQ+ community, particularly transgender individuals because it is directly correlated with a person’s curiosity of the other. The hypersexualization of trans people of color is compounded by the fact that they are part of another marginalized community. This can lead cisgender individuals who are curious about transgender bodies to objectify and perpetuate violence against them. A 2015 national survey of transgender people in the United States found that 47% of them are sexually assaulted at some point in their lifetime. Of those who were people of color responded with higher rates of assault (National Center for Transgender Equality).

Because the fetishization and exotification of women of color, including transgender women, is a dehumanizing mechanism that often leads to violence and acts of sexual assault, it is up to us all to fight these stereotypes when we see them. It is important to remind each other that women of color are not for consumption. They deserve respect on all levels, from the mind and soul to the body.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • The fetishization of people of color has existed in the United States for centuries and works to dehumanize individuals as objects for consumption by others. 

  • Fetishization can harm individuals and lead to sexual violence. 

  • Members of the LGBTQ+ community, particularly trans individuals, face higher rates of sexual violence and can also face additional layers of fetishization.


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Ian Kumamoto Nicole Cardoza Ian Kumamoto Nicole Cardoza

Don’t homogenize Latinx identity.

I sometimes joke that when I moved to the United States from Mexico, I changed races. I went from being Mexican to being identified as an Asian-American by others.“You don’t look Latino,” Americans would say when I introduced myself.

I was born in Mexico City to a Chinese mother and a Mexican father of Indigenous descent. Spanish was my first language, and for a while, the only one I spoke. But when I arrived in the United States at seven years old, I quickly realized that I was not allowed to claim my Latinidad because I did not fit a narrow understanding of what being Latinx was supposed to look like.

Happy Friday. Lots of people pointing fingers at the Latinx community right now, which only further emphasizes how complicit whiteness is in this election – and society as a whole. Today, Ian joins us to discuss the diversity of the Latinx community.

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 on our
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TAKE ACTION


  • Support Voto Latino (@votolatino), an organization that seeks to increase Latinx representation in U.S. politics and recognizes racial diversity within the Latinx community.

  • Learn more about the Afro-Latinx diaspora by following @theafrolatindiaspora.

  • Reflect on some stereotypes you might have about the Latinx community and where you received the information that allowed you to form those stereotypes.  


GET EDUCATED


By Ian Kumamoto (he/him)

I sometimes joke that when I moved to the United States from Mexico, I changed races. I went from being Mexican to being identified as an Asian-American by others.“You don’t look Latino,” Americans would say when I introduced myself.

I was born in Mexico City to a Chinese mother and a Mexican father of Indigenous descent. Spanish was my first language, and for a while, the only one I spoke. But when I arrived in the United States at seven years old, I quickly realized that I was not allowed to claim my Latinidad because I did not fit a narrow understanding of what being Latinx was supposed to look like. 

Our collective misunderstanding about Latinx identity has never been displayed as clearly as it was this election. On Tuesday night, Democrats hoped to carry Florida and Texas in large part because more people of color, especially Hispanics, were turning out (NBC News). Instead, we saw historic numbers of Cubans and Venezuelans who showed up and helped Trump win. Although part of this can be attributed to those country's socialist histories, we must also confront another ugly reality: Latinx people can be white supremacists, too.

We often talk about Latinx identity as a monolith, especially when it comes to race. But “Latinx” and “Hispanic” are not races; they are ethnicities, as we will discuss in a future newsletter. As the elections near and discussions about the Hispanic vote intensify, we risk reducing a diverse population down to a singular cultural trope. More than 21 million people identify as Latinx in the United States. Many of them have vastly different notions of their identities, which means they also vote in radically different ways. One month ago, up to one-third of self-identified Hispanic people said they would cast their vote for Donald Trump in this coming election (Pew Research Center). 

But Latinx people who vote for Trump aren’t “self-hating,” despite what John Leguizamo recently said on Real Time with Bill Maher (Remezcla). In fact, some feel like they have a real stake in upholding white supremacy (Remezcla). White supremacy within Latinx communities has thrived for centuries and has upheld a monolithic notion of the "Latino" that is exported abroad, one that erases Black, Asian and Indigenous people (The Nation).

Part of the reason the language around Latinidad is confusing is because it was made deliberately so. When the Spanish arrived in what is now Mexico in the 15th century, they created a racial caste system that positioned full-blood Europeans at the top. Peninsulares were the white ruling class while mestizos, who were mixed European and Indigenous, were below them (San Diego Reader).  Similar systems developed throughout Latin America. But as more and more people became racially mixed, it got increasingly harder to determine the exact racial makeup of every person and categorize them accordingly. Eventually, Mexico discouraged such categorizations altogether (Indian Country Today). The umbrella term of “mestizo” was chosen as a sort of default national identity, even when referring to people who were mostly European or mostly Indigenous. 

But a general mestizo identity glosses over the millions of people of other races who have little or no European ancestry at all. African enslaved people were transported to plantations in the Caribbean and Brazil. Chinese and Japanese immigrants went to South and Central America to farm, mine, and build railroads; in Peru, for example, people of Chinese descent make up 5 percent of the total population (Panoramas). Full-blooded Indigenous people were disenfranchised from economic systems and relegated to obscurity.

Despite the great racial variety of Latin American countries, its diversity is not reflected in the media. When you turn on the news, watch a telenovela, or scroll down a list of prominent celebrities in most Latin American countries today, you will likely see light-skinned or European-descendant people (The Nation). In the United States, many of the most recognizable Latinx figures (Bad Bunny, Pitbull, Shakira) are light-skinned. But it is much more difficult in these contexts to call out institutions for their lack of representation because they can simply claim a generalized Latinx identity and ignore how our cultures uplift whiteness.

Arguably the strongest pillar preventing a more inclusive notion of Latinidad is deeply-rooted beliefs that don’t question the idea of whiteness as inherently desirable. In the Dominican Republic and Mexico, for example, concepts like mejorar la raza (“to better the race”) are blunt ways of encouraging people to marry “up” and create more European-looking children who will be lighter-skinned than the generations before (Huffington Post). In Mexico, I grew up hearing the word Indio, or Indian, used as the worst kind of slur, while güero, or blondie, was used as a term of endearment.

In high school, I stopped speaking Spanish altogether because it promoted questions and sometimes even jokes (“Wow, an Asian who speaks Spanish!”). Even though the curiosity was seldom ill-intentioned, it became a barrier between me and the people of my community, who had internalized their own ideas about who was and was not allowed to be Latinx.

When discussing Latin identity and the political habits of Latinx people in the United States, it is essential to remember that our countries’ diversity means that our values and convictions can vary tremendously. It is crucial to have conversations about how white supremacy can be just as easily replicated by people who come to the U.S. from other countries. We must be vigilant against racism that pervades seemingly homogenous groups, or else we risk allowing the worst tendencies of a dominant group to thrive unchecked. Black, Asian, and Indigenous Latinx people are still fighting battles within our own communities to be seen, heard, and valued.


KEY TAKEAWAYS


  • Latinx identity is not a monolith. More than 21 million people identify as Latinx in the United States, and many of them have vastly different notions of their identities. 

  • When the Spanish arrived in what is now Mexico in the 15th century, they created a racial caste system that positioned full-blood Europeans at the top. 

  • Despite the great racial variety of Latin American countries, its diversity is not reflected in the media. In the United States, many of the most recognizable Latinx figures are light-skinned.

  • Latinx identity often glorifies light-skinned people with European ancestry, but millions of Latinx people are racially Black, Asian, or fully Indigenous. We are still fighting battles within our own communities to be seen, heard, and valued.


RELATED ISSUES



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