We were just talking about this--well, not exactly Durga Chew-Bose's perspective, but the "othering" power of "where are you from." We being, most recently, a Mexican-American and I, and a couple other people at the same party. It didn't start with that horrible question, but with the idea, in general, that it's legitimate to be curious about facial features, etc. as they relate to ethnicity. We agreed that the determining factor was the intention--is it to other, or to relate--but that can be tricky to convey (and often the asker is unaware of his intention).
Here's what I mean, though my own experience is a bit different since I'm not clearly, obviously ethnic to the untrained eye. I'm from as far away as you can be without looking like I'm from far away, but sometimes people figure me out (and other times, they do the opposite; more on that in a minute). I've been approached on the street and asked where I'm from, by (other ethnic) people who could tell I was ethnic-looking. That's not offensive to me--when, for example, Pakistanis or Haitians approach me to ask where I'm from, there's a subtext of, "you're one of us; please tell us what specific variety of one of us." That's the opposite of, "I can tell you're not one of us and I'm going to bring attention to that." I also (usually) don't mind the pretty transparent "what ethnicity is your name?" for the same reason; it's a matter of intellectual curiosity, not othering. I dodged the bullet of an obviously Russian name, but there's still something apparently not quite American about it, because I get the odd inquiry.
I'd had this other conversation--about names--the other day with a Norwegian friend whose name is obviously foreign but not obviously Norwegian. Ironically, I had lunch yesterday with an old friend who was in town, who has a very obviously Norwegian name and would be more bemused than annoyed at having to constantly convince people to take his word for it that he really was just from New Hampshire. First Norwegian friend suggested "where did you grow up?" as an improvement on "where are you from?" I also can't overemphasize the importance of not pushing it; if the ethnic-looking or ethnically-named person says, "San Francisco/Chicago/New Hampshire" or what have you, do not--emphatically, do not--proceed to press. DO NOT follow up with, "no, really, where are you from?" This is part of what Ta-Nehisi Coates brilliantly refers to as being an asshole as defined by relating to people only on your terms: sometimes, a person doesn't want to lead with her ethnic identity; quit forcing her to do so. I read to just want to blend, and I often have that privilege. Nonetheless, I get resentful fast when people do try to coopt my ethnicity.
The opposite extreme is when people can't believe you are what you say you are, because you look "normal" to them, and what you're saying you are isn't normal. Or not normal. I once went on a date with a guy who knew I spoke Russian, but didn't know why, and it didn't cross his mind that I came by it naturally. Whoever I was, sitting across from him, couldn't possibly one of those people. He actually said to me that he liked the Russian language but hated the people and the culture. Us against them, those others. That falls flat when you've so othered them that it's inconceivable to you that you're talking to one of them without knowing it.
He was the most egregious case, but not the only one. People regularly don't believe I'm Russian (I don't go around announcing it, but it comes up). They often say things like, "but not both of your parents are Russian" or "you couldn't have been born there." I guess I couldn't have been, but I nonetheless was.
***
At the same party, in a spinoff of the same conversation, another party-goer (a friend of a friend, whom I'd met before) was horrified that I didn't (always or naturally) feel like he and I were of the same people, i.e., (American) Jews (of Eastern European origin).
Now, never mind that Jews--even American Jews of Eastern European origin--are not unlike feminists, which is mostly to say that although we're perceived by our respective haters as some kind of organized cabal, we're not only not monolithic, but we in-fight, question each other's credentials, and otherwise undermine each other. There are some political divides, of which Israel is a symptom, and this guy nailed it in describing it: the Holocaust features prominently in Jewish consciousness, but it manifests itself in at least two distinct ways. There are those of us who take away a sense of justice for all of humanity; this horrible injustice happened to us, and we mustn't let it happen to anyone. And then there are those who see it as Jews against the rest of the world.
And this guy and I were certainly on the same side of that; but I had a hard time explaining to him that I didn't necessarily identify with American Jews (see above re: infighting and othering). Especially those who immigrated generations ago and got to keep their Judaism, and sometimes hold it against those of us who didn't. [One-sentence history lesson: Stalinist policy was to separate Jews from their communities and any opportunity to practice religion; the policy, together with his more brutal anti-semitic policies, reinforced Jewishness as an identity in the former Soviet Union, but also essentially succeeded in secularizing a large proportion of the nation's Jews.] My parents may or may not remember to light candles some time this month, but they have no idea why.
So those "generations"--those people whose grandparents or great-grandparents immigrated--fought for us. They are why we were able to get out. But then we got out and (some of) them found us backwards and ungrateful. Hell, I find us backwards (but we're not ungrateful).
When I was in college, I interned at a progressive magazine. My mother was unemployed at the time--both my parents were, actually, and times were tough. The very progressive editor of the magazine said, "why doesn't your mother get a cleaning job? lots of immigrants do it." Which has what to do with anything? Now, there are a lot of underemployed well-educated immigrants all over this country. My former Egyptian roommate's engineer mother worked at McDonald's. Which sucks. But it takes some cluelessness to suggest that an engineer get a cleaning job because it's something immigrants do.
And--this hasn't happened to me directly--but it's been known to happen not only out of the mouth of WASPs but also from those earlier generations of immigrants. Condescension abounds. #NotAllEarlierGenerationsofImmigrants, I know.
So I was surprised that this guy was surprised that I didn't feel like one of them--even though I should be honored, I guess, since it's sort of the opposite of being othered. And it's nothing against him, but I'm surprised because to me it's so clear that I much more closely identify with other zeroth (or even first) generation immigrants, than with Eastern European Jews who'd Americanized long ago. My experiences, my personal history, much more closely match those of other 'new' immigrants from just about anywhere, than from established Americans who just happened to be Jews. Yes they did struggle once, and their ancestors had to assimilate once. And I appreciate that they used their hard-fought gains to get me the hell out of that clusterf* of a country. But I'm just not one of them.
Here's what I mean, though my own experience is a bit different since I'm not clearly, obviously ethnic to the untrained eye. I'm from as far away as you can be without looking like I'm from far away, but sometimes people figure me out (and other times, they do the opposite; more on that in a minute). I've been approached on the street and asked where I'm from, by (other ethnic) people who could tell I was ethnic-looking. That's not offensive to me--when, for example, Pakistanis or Haitians approach me to ask where I'm from, there's a subtext of, "you're one of us; please tell us what specific variety of one of us." That's the opposite of, "I can tell you're not one of us and I'm going to bring attention to that." I also (usually) don't mind the pretty transparent "what ethnicity is your name?" for the same reason; it's a matter of intellectual curiosity, not othering. I dodged the bullet of an obviously Russian name, but there's still something apparently not quite American about it, because I get the odd inquiry.
I'd had this other conversation--about names--the other day with a Norwegian friend whose name is obviously foreign but not obviously Norwegian. Ironically, I had lunch yesterday with an old friend who was in town, who has a very obviously Norwegian name and would be more bemused than annoyed at having to constantly convince people to take his word for it that he really was just from New Hampshire. First Norwegian friend suggested "where did you grow up?" as an improvement on "where are you from?" I also can't overemphasize the importance of not pushing it; if the ethnic-looking or ethnically-named person says, "San Francisco/Chicago/New Hampshire" or what have you, do not--emphatically, do not--proceed to press. DO NOT follow up with, "no, really, where are you from?" This is part of what Ta-Nehisi Coates brilliantly refers to as being an asshole as defined by relating to people only on your terms: sometimes, a person doesn't want to lead with her ethnic identity; quit forcing her to do so. I read to just want to blend, and I often have that privilege. Nonetheless, I get resentful fast when people do try to coopt my ethnicity.
The opposite extreme is when people can't believe you are what you say you are, because you look "normal" to them, and what you're saying you are isn't normal. Or not normal. I once went on a date with a guy who knew I spoke Russian, but didn't know why, and it didn't cross his mind that I came by it naturally. Whoever I was, sitting across from him, couldn't possibly one of those people. He actually said to me that he liked the Russian language but hated the people and the culture. Us against them, those others. That falls flat when you've so othered them that it's inconceivable to you that you're talking to one of them without knowing it.
He was the most egregious case, but not the only one. People regularly don't believe I'm Russian (I don't go around announcing it, but it comes up). They often say things like, "but not both of your parents are Russian" or "you couldn't have been born there." I guess I couldn't have been, but I nonetheless was.
***
At the same party, in a spinoff of the same conversation, another party-goer (a friend of a friend, whom I'd met before) was horrified that I didn't (always or naturally) feel like he and I were of the same people, i.e., (American) Jews (of Eastern European origin).
Now, never mind that Jews--even American Jews of Eastern European origin--are not unlike feminists, which is mostly to say that although we're perceived by our respective haters as some kind of organized cabal, we're not only not monolithic, but we in-fight, question each other's credentials, and otherwise undermine each other. There are some political divides, of which Israel is a symptom, and this guy nailed it in describing it: the Holocaust features prominently in Jewish consciousness, but it manifests itself in at least two distinct ways. There are those of us who take away a sense of justice for all of humanity; this horrible injustice happened to us, and we mustn't let it happen to anyone. And then there are those who see it as Jews against the rest of the world.
And this guy and I were certainly on the same side of that; but I had a hard time explaining to him that I didn't necessarily identify with American Jews (see above re: infighting and othering). Especially those who immigrated generations ago and got to keep their Judaism, and sometimes hold it against those of us who didn't. [One-sentence history lesson: Stalinist policy was to separate Jews from their communities and any opportunity to practice religion; the policy, together with his more brutal anti-semitic policies, reinforced Jewishness as an identity in the former Soviet Union, but also essentially succeeded in secularizing a large proportion of the nation's Jews.] My parents may or may not remember to light candles some time this month, but they have no idea why.
So those "generations"--those people whose grandparents or great-grandparents immigrated--fought for us. They are why we were able to get out. But then we got out and (some of) them found us backwards and ungrateful. Hell, I find us backwards (but we're not ungrateful).
When I was in college, I interned at a progressive magazine. My mother was unemployed at the time--both my parents were, actually, and times were tough. The very progressive editor of the magazine said, "why doesn't your mother get a cleaning job? lots of immigrants do it." Which has what to do with anything? Now, there are a lot of underemployed well-educated immigrants all over this country. My former Egyptian roommate's engineer mother worked at McDonald's. Which sucks. But it takes some cluelessness to suggest that an engineer get a cleaning job because it's something immigrants do.
And--this hasn't happened to me directly--but it's been known to happen not only out of the mouth of WASPs but also from those earlier generations of immigrants. Condescension abounds. #NotAllEarlierGenerationsofImmigrants, I know.
So I was surprised that this guy was surprised that I didn't feel like one of them--even though I should be honored, I guess, since it's sort of the opposite of being othered. And it's nothing against him, but I'm surprised because to me it's so clear that I much more closely identify with other zeroth (or even first) generation immigrants, than with Eastern European Jews who'd Americanized long ago. My experiences, my personal history, much more closely match those of other 'new' immigrants from just about anywhere, than from established Americans who just happened to be Jews. Yes they did struggle once, and their ancestors had to assimilate once. And I appreciate that they used their hard-fought gains to get me the hell out of that clusterf* of a country. But I'm just not one of them.
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