On Being Down With Dating Brown

Raakhee

This Sunday, I woke up to an email from a girlfriend who is not Desi. She said that there was a really thought-provoking article in the New York Post, which reminded her of some of our conversations. She thought I might enjoy it. Enjoy it? I could have written parts of it. It was about Dating While Brown– and dating other Browns, to be specific.

The piece was called, “MELTING NOT: Why Young People Like me Started Dating Within our Race“. In it, NYP reporter Raakhee Mirchandani wrote a sensitive, honest explanation of her views on love– and I can just imagine the nastiness she might be encountering because of it.

It’s never easy to put yourself out there, so I salute her for doing so. Besides, with this issue, you can’t win. You date outside your community and you’re either a sell-out, desperate or a coconut. Date within it and you’re insular, insecure and biased. Ugh. Can’t we all just get along? I hope we can remember to be kind to one another, as we discuss an issue which affects all of us, albeit in different ways. We’ve got to let love rule, or whatever Lenny screams. On to the story.

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I know so many friends, whose experience mirrored this:

Growing up, the man in my dreams was a mystery; he was white, he was tall, he was dark, he was slick. He was always handsome. In my fantasy it didn’t matter if he was Catholic or Muslim, European or African, if he ate pigs or worshipped monkeys. It didn’t matter if he understood that I came from a rich tradition of Indian Hindus who were strict vegetarians, quietly conservative, obsessively dedicated to family and maniacal in their love for cheesy song-and-dance movies with mediocre acting and music.
And so when we met, freshman year at Boston University – the street smart Eastern European with a gorgeous smile, big heart and wicked sense of humor and the artsy Indian girl with a penchant for big hair, Bollywood and Biggie -it seemed like the perfect cross-continental match.

Ah, Biggie. I pour some of my Robitussin with Codeine out for you.

But somewhere along our six years together, the Indian girl from Jersey, who had naively promised him Catholic children, steak dinners and consistently defended his refusal to hang with my family as a simple difference in opinion, had a change of heart. And he did, too.
I remember him looking at me on an evening not far from our last and saying, “It’s like all of a sudden you became Indian.” In a way so quiet I didn’t even realize it was happening, the brown from my skin must have seeped in and colored my heart.

That line just slays me. I project emotions and explanations all over it. Is it accusatory? A blurt of hurt? Is becoming “Indian” a negative thing? The defending “his refusal to hang with my family” is also poignant. America may be a country of individuals, but most of us who are of South Asian descent are tightly tied to our families, for better or for worse. No one wants to be caught in that vise between one love and another. Continue reading

Rest in Peace, Annabel, There’s a Heaven for Haathi

Since my name is Anna, I love elephants. So, while meandering about SFGate.com, home of the beleaguered San Francisco Chronicle–the first newspaper I ever read– I saw a thumbnail of one which I couldn’t resist clicking. When I realized what I was looking at, I became sad. Obviously I had to inflict such depressing news on all of you:

shes mourning her friend.jpg

RIP, Annabel: An elephant at Holland’s Emmen Zoo mourns at the edge of a ditch where 45-year-old Annabel, the zoo’s oldest elephant, fell in and died. The zoo said its elephants regularly stumble into the ditch that surrounds their compound and are able to climb out, but that Annabel was unable to. [SFGate]

At 45, Annabel was the zoo’s matriarch. When she fell on Sunday, she landed on her side, that’s why she was “unable” to get up or climb out.

A breakdown truck was called to lift her out of the ditch, but her rescuers couldn’t get her to stand up again. A vet said she had gone into a state of shock and decided to put her to sleep. [RadioNL]

Part of me is wondering why there is this potentially dangerous ditch in the first place? Asian elephants (like those at Emmen Zoo) are endangered enough without unnecessarily risking their lives in poorly-designed spaces. Poor Annabel.

I know elephants are amazing, sensitive creatures but this caption just emphasized that in such a way that I was jolted right out of my passive, blithely-surfing-the-net state. The other elephants are in mourning. After my father passed away, our two German Shepherds began howling at night, much to the discomfiture of my mother. One waited outside the patio door, where he had seen my father collapse while the other remained near the front, from where the ambulance had left.

So animals grieve, like we do. Maybe more than we do. I started eating before our dogs did. It may seem tie-dyed or crunchy, but I wonder what the zoo is doing for the surviving elephants, and their human caretakers. I’m not even going to get in to the politics of zoos or the ethical implications of containing such magnificent creatures in less than natural spaces for the entertainment and possible edification of humans. I just felt sad for this fallen matriarch, and wanted in some small way to remember an elephant who wasn’t just Asian, but probably South Asian. Be at peace, Annabel. May you romp and play at the Rainbow Bridge— and if you see my three late German Shepherds, tell them I miss them. Continue reading

Slumlovin’ Fusion

I’ve been away in Delhi for the past month where Slumdog Mania has hit with a frenzy, and stories of Frieda’s engagement/marriage or missing Slumdog kids were often the headline story. Oddly enough, soon after touching down stateside I realized that Slumdog Mania has taken the U.S. by storm too.

There were two signs that signaled to me this storm (besides of course the prolific amount of posts I had to catch up on here at SM). The first was when watching my nightly secret addiction, TMZ, I saw the infamous Anil Kapoor getting interviewed by paparazzi. Not Dev, not Frieda, but Anil. Kapoor. And not just once but a few times.

The second happened while flipping through the car radio, I heard what sounded like ‘Jai Ho’ but mangled. Because the girl was singing “Jai” pronounced as “Jay.” I was thrown off. It sounded like an evening of karaoke with the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack gone girl band.

Okay, so maybe the song isn’t that bad but I prefer the wholesome A.R. Rahman version. Nicole Scherzinger of the Pussycat Dolls (who I saw once at a secret M.I.A. show in Silverlake) apparently is a fan of Bollywood.

Nicole Scherzinger stated in a past interview with Desi Hits! that she wanted to go Bollywood, and now she has, and according to her the reward is plentiful. “It’s an honor to be able to collaborate with A.R. Rahman and be a part of the Slumdog Millionaire project in any way. The movie, the story, and the music was a gift and very spiritually uplifting for me. I can only hope and pray Slumdog Millionaire, and my version of ‘Jai Ho (You are my Destiny)’ touches and connects people all around the world”. [DesiHits!]

It is weird to see something that I saw as personal and desi go mainstream. It was just like the first time I heard M.I.A.’s Galang on a car commercial when she first hit the U.S. and I had this little pleasureful tummy flip. As if someone discovered my yummy little secret. But then when M.I.A.’s Paper Plane was picked up by the Pineapple Express trailer, my tummy just started feeling queasy. Seeing Slumdog Millionaire going through this process is giving me similar tummy flips – from when I watched the movie in an independent theatre back in the fall to sitting here watching Dev and Freida on the Tyra Banks show teaching Bollywood dances as I type this blog.

Abhi touched upon this effect earlier, but I wanted to know what all this Slumlovin’ fusion is doing to your tummy. Does it make you feel as uneasy as I do? Or does all the SM love reflect something more? Continue reading

25 Random Things…About Sepia Mutiny

Earlier this month, the “25 Random Things About Me”-meme was so omnipresent on Facebook, even major papers like the New York Times and the Chicago Tribune discussed it. What, you haven’t heard of it? Wow. No wonder newspapers are going out of business! Well, here’s some background info from the grey lady, then:

…the latest digital fad — a chain-letter-cum-literary exercise called “25 Random Things About Me” — is threatening to consume what little remaining free time and privacy we have.
Here’s how it works: friends send you an e-mail message (or, on Facebook, “tag” you in a note posted to their profile) with 25 heartfelt observations about themselves — like “I named my son after a man I’ve never met” or “I once paid good money to see Whitesnake in concert” — along with instructions for you to follow suit. You are then expected to gin up your own clever list and foist it upon 25 people, including the friend who asked for it in the first place. [NYT]

The 25 things can be habits, goals, quirky facts– whatever. Everyone on Facebook seemed to be doing it, so much so that a backlash started. People used their status messages to denounce the meme and warn others from including them. Groups like “Stop Tagging Me in 25 Random Things Posts You Tards” were formed. But the lists weren’t really THAT bad. No one was forcing anyone to read them. Often, if you did, you’d end up learning fascinating things about the people whom you allegedly “know”.

That’s the thing about “25 Random Things About Me”: Once you stop being annoyed you realize that, at its best, it’s one of the more compelling — and, yes, even oddly inspiring — wastes of time to hit the Web in years. And let’s cut to the chase. Should we really be complaining about the inanity of this new trend? We’re a nation entertained by lolcats. [salon]

Word. Besides, it’s not like this is anything new:

“It’s a brainstorming exercise,” said Anne Trubek, an associate professor at Oberlin College who said she used to give nearly identical assignments 15 years ago to beginning writing students. “It’s used to get people to think about ideas without the pressure of developing a thesis or an argument.” [NYT]

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Is “Slumdog” the new “Macaca?”

For the last few years, every time I hang out with my crew its like “what’s up Macaca?” Or “Macaca puleez.” If one of them is acting ignorant I have to bust out with this derogatory term that we have appropriated from the Man and made our own. The distinction is clear: I love me my South Asian people. But I hate macacas.

Ok ok, I’m just kidding…and ripping off Chris Rock’s material a bit.

A few days ago one of our commenters made the following observation: “slumdog” is the new “macaca.” Bobby Jindal’s primetime response to Obama was given about 48 hours after Slumdog Millionaire mopped up at the Oscars. The most watched speech ever given by an Indian American occurred only two days after a huge audience watched a large cast of Indians take centerstage at an event embodying American culture. I think the combined effect of the two is greater than many people realize. Over the span of 48 hours desis literally dominated the airways. And, of course, that can be a double edged sword when you are a minority

On many websites and blogs, liberal commenters, who immediately pounced on Jindal’s poor performance to discredit his “rising star” hype, used the term “slumdog” to describe him. It wasn’t limited to liberals though. Conservative commenters and bloggers did the same exact thing. After Allen used it in Virginia, the term “Macaca” was denounced almost immediately, and to the best of my knowledge was never widely used by non-desis again. I get the feeling “slumdog” is going to have some legs, however. See this exchange today between the new Chairman of the RNC and a Guardian Angels founder turned conservative radio host Curtis Sliwa:

Did Steele say “friggin’ awesome?” The Republicans have publicly stated that part of their strategy to come back from the wilderness has to be to aggressively court the urban youth vote:

Newly elected Republican National Committee Chairman Michael S. Steele plans an “off the hook” public relations offensive to attract younger voters, especially blacks and Hispanics, by applying the party’s principles to “urban-suburban hip-hop settings.”

The RNC’s first black chairman will “surprise everyone” when updating the party’s image using the Internet and advertisements on radio, on television and in print, he told The Washington Times. [Link]

If this is part of his strategy I think he should fire whoever is advising him. Is it just me or does Steele come across like an old white guy trying to sound like he can speak like a young black guy?

Mainly I would like to hear from our readers. Have any of you been called “Slumdog,” even jokingly, in the past few days? Were you okay with it or did it bother you?

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SF Meetup on Friday, February 6 is Cancelled.

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Sorry mutineers. Not enough RSVPs for me to justify driving 250 miles in inclement weather. Lesson for next time? PLEASE RSVP. To the four of you who did, my sincerest thanks and appreciation. I have emailed each of you.

The bad news is, the meetup is cancelled. The good news is, you can always bug Uncle Vinod to host another one…he still lives on this coast. 😉

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UPDATE, FEBRUARY 5, 2009:

I’m bumping this post back up to the top because I need to confirm who is coming/to where/at what time. Doing this is easier than writing a new post…and THEN a reminder post, tomorrow.

There’s a lot of info in the comments below, and I don’t have the time, will, or reliable wifi to paste it all in a new post. Just scroll towards the bottom, where I’ve (hopefully) answered everyone’s questions.

Once you’ve read all that, if you could leave a comment (or send an email*) to indicate whether or not you are coming, that would be super helpful. One Three of you just emailed me for details about tomorrow, so I know he’s they’re in– that makes two four of us, who have RSVP’d. 🙂

If you can make it to Udipi in the Mission at 6:30, let us know! Since our group is smaller this time, I’m excited about actually being able to hear some of you…now who’s in?

*my name at this website dotty com.

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No, really, South Asians for Obama

Someone on my GChat list had an intriguing link included in their status message. I saw “inauguration”, and since that historic event is still very much on my mind, I clicked it. I was led to the Boston Globe’s website, to a feature called “The Big Picture: News Stories in Photographs“.

Yesterday was a historic day. On January 20th, 2009, Barack H. Obama was sworn in as the 44th President of the United States of America – the first African-American ever to hold the office of U.S. Commander-in-Chief. The event was witnessed by well over one million attendees in chilly Washington D.C., and by many millions more through coverage on television and the Internet. Collected here are photographs of the event, the participants, and some of the witnesses around the world. (48 photos total)

Picture number 38 caught my attention, setting my browndar off before I could even read the caption underneath it (which I’ve quoted, well, underneath it):

Pakistani Christian children.jpg

Pakistani Christian children hold portraits of U.S. President-elect Barack Obama during a prayers ceremony for global peace in Islamabad, Pakistan on Tuesday, Jan. 20, 2009. (AP Photo) [Globe]

At first glance, I didn’t notice the word “Christian”. I just saw “Pakistani children”. I thought I’d just post the picture plus a quick blurb about where I found it, and isn’t it sweet, etc. But for obvious reasons, I started surfing around, and a rambling post was born. Continue reading

“We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus – and non-believers.”

Speech Wars.jpg
I woke up at 6:30 am today, after less than three hours of sleep, unsure of what to expect on Inauguration Day. Well, that isn’t entirely accurate– I knew to expect considerable delays in my adopted home city along with, and partly because of a guaranteed transit nightmare. But aside from that, I had some hazy sense that I’d be witnessing something important, something I’d regret missing since I live here.

I’ve never been to an inauguration, despite my decade in D.C. So, I set out on a special Presidential Inauguration bus route, via my special Presidential Inauguration Metro card, which took me to the security perimeter. From there I walked in frigid temperatures to get to the Presidential Inauguration Metro train which would, it turns out, NOT take me to my intended destination.

Due to crowd control concerns, WMATA quickly shut down two train stations while I was underground, in transit, and packed in so tightly with other would-be attendees, that I felt assaulted every time someone moved an elbow. Everyone was aware of a different station which had been closed earlier; they announced it was unexpectedly reopening just as we pulled away from it. Too late. At this point, they had closed the last three stations at which we could have exited and we were well past the stop we needed. I started to worry about logistics as previously cheery train inhabitants cursed under their breath.

I hastily exited the Metro the moment I was able to, and I still ended up on the wrong side of the Capitol building. I had just over an hour to trudge through brutal, 11 degree weather, while attempting to avoid idling charter buses spewing exhaust, forbidding barricades, chaotic Police checkpoints and of course, thousands of people who were alternately shivering in their Uggs or shouting “Woooo! Obama!”.

The only thing I could think about was how I was thisclose to missing the whole point of the day, the whole point of the last two years, and it was all because of my bad luck with Metro. I tried to be mindful and prepare myself for the worst; if I was too late to get through security or move through the sludge of confused people faster than one mile per hour, I could say that I tried. That I had experienced the cold and the crowds and the optimism which was muffled by scarves, earmuffs and gloves. Que sera, sera…

I barely expected to make it to my rooftop viewing party in time for pomp and circumstance. I certainly did not expect to see a copy of Obama’s speech before he delivered it. And I definitely did not expect to be in tears when our new President recognized a faith which I respect, but don’t practice.

One thing at a time.

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“…Stick around.”

The benediction at Barack Hussein Obama’s inauguration was given today by Rev. Joseph Lowery:

Joseph Echols Lowery (born October 6, 1921) is a minister in the United Methodist Church and leader in the American civil rights movement.

Lowery was pastor of the Warren Street United Methodist Church, in Mobile, Alabama from 1952 until 1961. His career in the civil rights movement began in the early 1950s in Mobile, Alabama. After Rosa Parks’ arrest in 1955, Lowery helped lead the Montgomery bus boycott. He headed the Alabama Civic Affairs Association, an organization devoted to the desegregation of buses and public places. In 1957, with Martin Luther King, Jr. Lowery founded the Southern Christian Leadership Conference and subsequently led the organization as its president from 1977 to 1997. [Link]

Without a doubt the most striking paragraph of the benediction (the full text of which can be found here) was the following:

Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around … when yellow will be mellow … when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what is right. That all those who do justice and love mercy say Amen. [Link]

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R.I.P. Whitey

The Atlantic has the absolute must read piece of the day (seriously) about the coming minority majority in America. In the rhetorically titled, “The End of White America?” Hua Hsu of Vassar College examines a basket of issues surrounding the idea that it is no longer even mildly desireable to be “white” in America. According to Hsu, white youth are trying desperately to mimic the cultures they see within minority groups as a means to escape the blandness of their “non-culture”:

Whether you describe it as the dawning of a post-racial age or just the end of white America, we’re approaching a profound demographic tipping point. According to an August 2008 report by the U.S. Census Bureau, those groups currently categorized as racial minorities–blacks and Hispanics, East Asians and South Asians–will account for a majority of the U.S. population by the year 2042. Among Americans under the age of 18, this shift is projected to take place in 2023, which means that every child born in the United States from here on out will belong to the first post-white generation.

Obviously, steadily ascending rates of interracial marriage complicate this picture, pointing toward what Michael Lind has described as the “beiging” of America. And it’s possible that “beige Americans” will self-identify as “white” in sufficient numbers to push the tipping point further into the future than the Census Bureau projects. But even if they do, whiteness will be a label adopted out of convenience and even indifference, rather than aspiration and necessity. For an earlier generation of minorities and immigrants, to be recognized as a “white American,” whether you were an Italian or a Pole or a Hungarian, was to enter the mainstream of American life; to be recognized as something else, as the Thind case suggests, was to be permanently excluded. As Bill Imada, head of the IW Group, a prominent Asian American communications and marketing company, puts it: “I think in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1940s, [for] anyone who immigrated, the aspiration was to blend in and be as American as possible so that white America wouldn’t be intimidated by them. They wanted to imitate white America as much as possible: learn English, go to church, go to the same schools.”

Today, the picture is far more complex. To take the most obvious example, whiteness is no longer a precondition for entry into the highest levels of public office. The son of Indian immigrants doesn’t have to become “white” in order to be elected governor of Louisiana. A half-Kenyan, half-Kansan politician can self-identify as black and be elected president of the United States. [Link]

The case of The United States v. Bhagat Singh Thind mentioned in the article (someone we’ve blogged of before) refers to the 1923 case in which an Indian American veteran argued that he should be considered white (a precondition to becoming a naturalized citizen) because Indians were descended from Aryans:

Associate Justice George Sutherland found that, while Thind, an Asian Indian, may have had “purity of Aryan blood” due to being “born in Village Taragarh Talawa,near Jandiala Guru, Amritsar, Punjab” and having “high caste” status he was not Caucasian in the “common understanding”, so he could not be included in the “statutory category as white persons”.[1] George Sutherland wrote in his summary: [Link]

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