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I am requesting a pass, I attended the excellent Saathi's conversation on the 28th of November

After 9/11 Gay American Desis found themselves marginalized due to both their sexuality and ethnicity (168). Performing “Americanness” became a way to navigate America after 9/11, this was often expressed through homonormativity (174). Brown bodies were labeled as foreign and queer, making it necessary to suppress their sexuality to navigate survival in a hostile society (169). This performance of homonormativity, though, had the ability to further isolate Gay Americans Desis, reinforcing LGBTQ+ acceptance as a symbol of national progress and modernity, but only for those who conform (183).

A similar dynamic is reflected in the comments of one of my classmates in another course. She pointed out how the September & October protests and counter-protests often constructed a narrative where foreign, Muslim bodies were framed as “fascists,” “homophobic,” and “backwards.” She emphasized that neither group involved in these protests benefit from the government’s actions, and both identities are being leveraged for political purposes. Reflecting on this week's reading, I connected her observations to the application of homonationalism in these protests. This framing further isolates and alienates individuals, particularly gay Muslim children, who exist at the intersection of these identities, and are rendered invisible.

Cultural Blackness is the adoption of aesthetics, style, language, and practices associated with Black (African American) communities. One way of performing cultural Blackness is through sports, like Basketball. We see this method of performance in Thangaraj's The Turban Is Not a Hat. As Thangaraj notes, participating in and co-opting components of Black culture does not equate to actual support for the Black community (381). Thangaraj writes of how this performance of Blackness, also “serves to produce alternative conceptions of ‘American-ness’ inflected by Black cultural style but, in their domain, performed through South Asian American sensibilities” (378). This performance of Blackness, in my own opinion, can also be seen as a performance of masculinity. While African Americans are stereotyped as “all brawn”, (376) and hyper masculine, and athletic (382), South Asian Americans are often stereotyped as “all brains” (376) and " non-threatening and passive " (382). Performing Blackness then becomes a way to perform masculinity. Extending this thought, I start to think of how all expressions of gender are simply a performance….

In Canada, the idea of cultural Blackness in Black communities raises unique questions. While some Black Canadians trace their roots to Loyalists, formerly enslaved Americans, or Caribbean immigrants, groups with their cultural traditions and shared historical connection to the transatlantic slave trade, the majority of recent Black immigrants are from Africa. This makes me wonder how do Black Canadians of African descent perform cultural Blackness, and how can it even be defined? I am assuming that African Americans are considered the model, but can a distinctly Canadian idea of Blackness exist? Also, I am interested as to how Black Canadians of African descent perform their Blackness in a country that often erases Black history and contributions to sustain a myth that systemic racism doesn’t exist...

*Sorry for submitting past 12, I was having technical difficulties and it wouldn't let me get through to the post template.

At times I feel like my identity, appearance and existence are under the continuous influence of being defined by either sexlessness or sexual excess. This is a sentiment many women face, and at this age, it’s pronounced. On one hand, no woman wants to be reduced to a mere sexual object, and on the other, no woman wants to be defined by the absence of sexuality, or to be seen as 'sexless.' What we seek is not to be defined by excess or absence, but rather it is a neutrality we desire, a recognizance of being singular, and present in existence.

For Muslim women, the hijab often exemplifies this dichotomy. One can become fetishized, politicized, and sexualized when wearing the hijab, we see this in the context of Quebec all the time, where Muslim women are viewed as oppressed (Mahrouse, 92). Conversely, if a Muslim woman decides not to wear the hijab, there is an opposite fetishization that also occurs, where she is falsely viewed as “liberated”, in a way that is often perceived as also being sexual. Again, both are false ideas that strip away agency from Muslim women.

Watching the Neelam “I’ll Be The King” Music video I had many personal thoughts that arose. Being both Black and Muslim situates me at an interesting intersection of sexualization. As a Black woman, I am fetishized; being a Black African is an additional layer of exoticization. When combined with being a Muslim, I am inscrutable, people do not know where to situate me sexually. My experiences are often erased in these debates, as my choices are framed as either evidence of oppression or as a rejection of my cultural background. In my experience, some non-Black Muslim women express curiosity about the limits of my sexuality, while some men are more focused on the extent of it. Both dynamics, at times, contribute to the fetishization of my identity.

Sexularism, which assumes that secularism will lead to “gender and sexual equality” (Bilge 305) does not resonate with me because true liberation cannot occur without dismantling the interconnected systems of racism, patriarchy, and capitalism. The patriarchy is unfeasible without racism, and capitalism cannot exist without either. Under sexularist ideologies, Islam is heavily scrutinized and is viewed as an impediment (Bilge 307). This perpetuates harmful ideas about Islam and neglects to examine the complexities of gender and religion. This is all to say that the sexual liberation of the West is faux. I do believe that the initial efforts in the 1970s had merit to them, but they have evolved, replicating the same constraints they sought to escape, simply in disguise. Neo-liberalism has commodified and completely altered the original ideas behind this supposed liberatory movement, making it seem like an individual effort and not one that is communal at its core (Bilge 305).

Before adopting multiculturalism as an official policy in 1971, Canada had immigration policies that favoured Europeans and excluded or restricted non-European immigrants. After World War II, “hypercapitalist” countries needed labour. Immigration from the “Third” world, was then the supplier of this labour shortage (Thobani 146). Canada’s adoption of multiculturalist “attitude” and policies allowed the Canadian government to benefit from immigrant labour, while simultaneously seemingly aligning with progressive values (Thobani 146). Multiculturalism in Canada was never concerned of furthering progression, its focus was on increasing production.

Thobani also critiques multiculturalism’s role in the “culturalization of race”, where racism is attached to cultural traits and not biological characteristics (Thobani 159). By focusing on culture, modern racism denies being "racist", while still marginalizing certain groups (Thobani 159). This allows for people to dismiss the discrimination of cultural characteristics and their associations with race, as well as systemic racism.

Language and culture have a symbiotic relationship, where language produces culture, and culture shapes language. A province that heavily defines itself by its culture, and the necessity of preserving it, is Quebec. I would argue that a defining aspect of Quebec culture is its continuous effort to preserve itself, particularly evident in Quebec's language politics. In Das’s article Linguistic Rivalries, her study of the Montreal Tamil communities illustrates how the culturalization of race plays out in the context of language , and its social implications. Das observes that nonstandard Québec French, while common among white Québécois from rural areas, is often perceived as a marker of ‘otherness’, or lack of complete integration when spoken by immigrants (Das 68). Here, the culturalization of race ensures that even when immigrants to Quebec adopt aspects of Québécois culture, they are still perceived as outsiders.

Doing this reading, I thought a lot about Canadian culture, and whether it could ever be clearly defined. As a child, I prided myself on Canada’s supposed multiculturalism and diversity. As I get older, the fallacy of this becomes more and more pronounced, making me question my standing in this country. I wonder if transience will be an eternal state for me in Canada, where belonging is conditional, and my identity is continuously framed as foreign, even if it is unspoken.

Conceptions of foreignness derive from attributions that another is different. Perceived differences can be because of physiological characteristics, or cultural differences. When foreignness becomes associated with inferiority, those ascribed to this "foreignness" are often relegated to the status of the abject. This process of developing a nationwide consciousness of ascribing “other” to certain groups, commences in early-age environments such as the home and school. LaRochelle in The School of Race examines how early Quebecois textbooks racialized and dehumanized non-European people.

In the early 19th century, textbooks exoticized non-European people (113). By the late 19th century, the emphasis shifted to racial taxonomies based on ideas of skin colour and intelligence. Black people, in particular, were dehumanized, and described as being cannibals (104). One example of dehumanization from the Frères des écoles chrétiennes textbook conflated Black people with gorillas, stating: “Here, the gorilla, the largest of the ape species, abounds. The Fans and other inland tribes are cannibals. Human flesh is bought and sold in the markets.” (147) This passage transitions from gorillas to human beings without any acknowledgment of their difference, fluidly equating Black people with animals.. These portrayals taught Canadian schoolchildren to view Black people as less than human. This legacy of racialized education fosters feelings of unworthiness and foreignness in racialized students. It teaches them biases they must then navigate, and often internalizes harmful stereotypes and racism met within the school population.

Martin, in Feeling Inferior, similarly reflects on the inferiority that racialized people face within the context of Quebec, France's cultural kin. The classroom functions as a site of colonization where thought is indoctrinated and disseminated. Racism, which affects individuals psychologically, mentally, and emotionally, often stems from a broader culture and system that perpetuates this marginalization. Thomas's experience demonstrates this. As a Black student, he felt compelled to work “two times, three times harder than the others” to prove himself against the racism of his teacher (168). While this determination led to his success, it emerged from an unjust system that undervalued his abilities based on race. This pressure to overperform is not a healthy motivator but a survival mechanism in a system that demands exceptionalism from marginalized students.

Karim has a similar experience to Thomas, deepened by the historical legacy of French colonialism. Encouraged by his mother to excel in school, Karim worked hard but still would constantly doubt himself. He felt “less intelligent than the others” and that “he was not capable” (149). Additionally, in the classroom environment, his history was erased from the curriculum, leaving an absence where his history and heritage should have been acknowledged(149). This systemic neglect of colonial histories not only erased his identity but reinforced a sense of otherness and invisibility. Despite Karim's academic success, feelings of inferiority instilled in childhood have not left him. For many racialized students, the classroom becomes the first place where they are taught that no matter how hard they work, they simply will never be “good enough”.

As a woman, my experiences in the education system have been somewhat softened. However, I have still encountered many moments where my identity was minimized, with subtle implications that I was inferior. Some of the things past teachers have told me I still remember over a decade later. The process of making a racialized child feel inferior in the classroom starts as young as kindergarten, even daycare. For Black boys, this often manifests through harsher disciplinary measures like detention, expulsion, or even encounters with law enforcement called on by their teachers.

beautifully put

At a panel on Canada’s new immigration caps, I attended on Friday, one of the speakers addressed how these new restrictions will make it so that there will be a hindrance to labour in Canada. She spoke of how Canada's new restrictions will minimize the opportunity for immigrants to contribute to the Canadian economy, and that it was a concern as unemployment rates rise in certain sectors. I took her message as an unfiltered truth. My labour is what Canada requires of me. The panel discussion reflected much of what the reading this week was about. Immigration is an economic motivation, desired/needed by companies, and government, but immigration is always coupled with the anxiety of the "encroachment" of another's people and their culture.

Despite public fears about rising unemployment, the Canadian government admitted a significant number of Ugandan Asians, motivated not only by humanitarian concerns (83) but also by a belief that these skilled, educated immigrants would benefit the economy. The decision to prioritize Ismaili expellees, was kept secret (85), emphasizing the government’s awareness that public support of immigrants depended on the perception that immigrants would be economically productive to Canadian society (83).

The speaker at the panel reflected on this historical example, where Canada’s immigration policies continue to be influenced by the perceived economic contributions of immigrants. The value of immigrants is often reduced to their labour, and how their labour can ease the living of the country's existing residents. I wonder about this process of othering, and the shift towards viewing immigrants as the outsider.

Canada is mostly filled with immigrants; it is a relatively young country with a relatively short history of migration, and its population has doubled in the last fifty years. At some point, individuals feel more entitled to this country than those who share the exact same dreams as them. These individuals begin to believe that the entrance of immigrants should only be warranted if their economic contributions outweigh the perception of their otherness.

In A Place Called Persia, I reflected on the practice of Homeland and meditated on the concept of it for myself. Homeland as being accepted when not in servitude, in action or working. Homeland is resting within our bodies, believing that we (diaspora) deserve to be even when we are not creating, doing, trying to live up to expectations, or changing perceptions. Homeland is understanding that the immigrant body is not an economic producer, but limitless, existing in its whole tenderness.

@pierre-augustin_habrih said in Le racisme chez les francophones:

C Solaar presents himself as an educated young man who spent his youth reading books at the library. This is unusual in rap, as a lot of rappers depict themselves as criminals. Furthermore, rappers often talk about not appreciating school during their childhood.

I don't think it's fair to make overarching statements about an entire art form. It's similar to how some might dismiss graffiti as merely "the work of criminals". This viewpoint completely overlooks how graffiti often serves as a form of resistance and self-expression, especially for those who lack the privilege to have their voices heard in mainstream artistic spaces, spaces that are typically dominated by wealthy, white individuals.

I am requesting a pass, I attended the Graduate talk in the Institute of Islamic Studies on November 8th

I’m requesting to pass on this post, as I attended the SASSA Diwaloween event.

A shared experience for both South Asian and Black communities is being marginalized due to the prevalence of darker skin tones within their communities. The visibility of race is important in understanding the oppression experienced by people of color (85). Visibility creates a different reality compared to other marginalized groups who can go “invisible”, meaning they may have the ability to move more fluidly within white spaces. Dark skin becomes a marker of being the “other”. Though not all South Asians, and Black people have dark skin tones, this shared experienced of visibility and marginalisation due to visibility, is a point of solidarity and similarity in both the South Asian and Black experience. It is also important to mention that this shared visibility can sometimes lead to both communities identifying and distancing themselves from each other, potentially creating tension within their respective struggles.

This shared dynamic of racialization is particularly evident in comparison to experiences of Arab immigrants in the UK. Hassan explains how Arab immigrants often find it easier to integrate into white spaces. He says, “We haven’t got the numbers of, say, South Asians, so we weren’t able to create ghettoes the way South Asians did. We look more like Europeans than South Asians do. We normally know English better, especially if you are middle class so that you can integrate easily.” (89) This proximity to whiteness, as in being able to align oneself more easily within white spaces, can lessen the experience of marginalization due to race. Though it is important to note that not all Arabs are white-passing, or easily integrate into white spaces. This perspective is specific to the British context of this paper, and does not apply universally to all Arab migrants' experiences.

Fun^Da^Mental’s music video is a powerful and important expression of Black-Asian solidarity. The music videos use both visuals and lyrics to emphasize the bond between Black and Asian communities. The lyrics: "There comes a time when enough is enough / Afro-Caribbeans, Asians together are tuff / Our defence is on attack, minds are made up / Bodies are fightin' back," are about the shared struggle against racism, and the importance of being aligned with one another, and fighting for each other. The visuals of the physical violence done by white racists, and the cuts to groups of Black people and South Asian men banding together in the streets are incredibly poignant. Another lyric: “I am the Brown one, my brother Nubian” again connects the South Asian and Black experiences, calling onto each other as brothers.

On a personal note, I noticed that at around 2:30 in the music video, the string(flute?) noise being played sounded a bit similar to the Ethiopian Masinko

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://www.facebook.com/africandrummingaustralia/videos/masinko-masenqo-or-chira-wata-/430717982454432/&ved=2ahUKEwjcrsjXgseJAxUiFVkFHaWrMawQtwJ6BAgGEAI&usg=AOvVaw11Zhciei6TR9FocphFX1Op

While I believe the instrument sampled was most likely South Asian, I found this similarity to be another example of connection between these two groups.

Almost all mediums that can transport us towards a feeling of “home” do not encompass all of our senses. Videos are visual and auditory, clothing is visual and tactile, perfume is olfactory. Food, however, is visual, tactile, olfactory, and gustatory. A remnant of home that can be embodied. Munnar explores the diaspora's relationship to food, especially within the context of cultures that are being viewed as ones the “enemy” inhabits. Eating, and eating within a restaurant becomes an act that has social and political weight that complicates the diaspora’s feeling towards finding community through food.

“Culinary citizenship” (29) allows diaspora members to conceptualize their identities through food. I don’t believe taste can be linked to a certain place, time, or person. Rather it is an intermingling, or conversation between past generations, the cultures that imposed themselves, and the cultures that found love with the other, along with the influences of individual migrations, colonization, and religion. My mother a Muslim craves Panettone, an Italian Christmas speciality, every December. She associates it with growing up in Asmara. And when I am in Montréal or Toronto I lament how horrible the shawarma is compared to Ottawa. I miss my mother’s Sudanese, and Habesha cooking. The smell of coffee, its associations with peace, and a moment to sit down and conversate. My father’s configuration of shatta and lime which he puts on everything. My father's consistent choice of vanilla ice cream, linked to it being one of the only flavours he had available growing up. Even sometimes, I miss the berbere my mother gave me when I said a bad word. How this was the cause of my love of spice, and my mouth's insistence on using bad words. If nostalgia is defined as a “cultural practice” (252) , I see food as a labour of nostalgia, when engaging in its creation, memory, and taste.

As some embrace cuisines, but reject the people behind them, food consumption acts as a selective form of acceptance or rejection within public and private spaces. Enemy Kitchen encourages these conversations about the meaning of eating together. Munnar writes that these curations of spaces can be seen as “queer curation” (126) that ,“ bring together unlikely friends to destabilize the machinations of neoliberal multiculturalism”(126). In this past year many of us have brought more thought into eating, and food. That our deliberate choices into where we choose to eat can directly benefit people who align with or oppose our politics and identities. This is an important consideration in the context of America's culinary diplomacy initiatives, as to what truly distinguishes it from 'food washing'?"

This selective acceptance/consumption of components of the people but not the people themselves is reflected in almost all aspects of society today. They accept and desire the immigrant art, clothing, jewellery, perfume, skincare, and even elements of physical features but them, the actual people? Now that is going a bit too far.

Marriage throughout history has always been a means of economic opportunity and, as such, is an institution that has been shaped by religion and law, with often the former influencing the latter. With the creation of new nation-states in North America, there needed to be concrete racial hierarchies to preserve a certain standard of superiority and forge identity. South Asian immigrants in the early 20th century often came without wives because of the strict immigration policies, and difficulty of the voyage (80). Their marriages between non-South Asian women created complexities in this racial hierarchy and were monitored and governed in North America.

Anti-Asian sentiments from the earlier migration of Chinese migrants intensified with the arrival of migrants from  South Asia. Indians posed a fear of disrupting Canada’s supposed “White destiny”(83). I posit that a white destiny can only be preserved by either the assimilation of a group into that “destiny”, or their exclusion by returning them to their countries of origin. This placed interracial marriages between South Asian men, and non-white women as a fearful and unwanted development.

Legal and social structures of the early 20th century made non-Christian, polygamous marriages often illegitimate, going against the “chosen model” of marriage (11). The government attempted to delegitimize non-Western, and non-white forms of marriage. The case of Nami Singh created a legal dispute over the legitimacy of his children born to a Mexican woman who the courts deemed as a “concubine” (132). The state's control over marriage demonstrates the racial hierarchy embedded in legal structures, as white monogamous marriage was consistently positioned as the standard against which all other unions were judged.

The economic benefits of marriage between South Asians and Mexicans was paramount in facilitating their marriages. Many of the Mexicans in the Leonard reading already had children from a previous marriage (69). This meant that these marriages were mutually beneficial, granting both the South Asian men and Mexican women economic and a certain amount of social security. Although these marriages were often prevented from being able to transfer wealth, ensuring that property remained white-controlled  (132). Additionally, many of these women face the possibility of losing their citizenship in their marriage with foreign men (132). The regulation of interracial marriage served to maintain white supremacy, both socially and economically.

Doing the readings for this week, I started to wonder how present-day governments have come to form ideas and laws of non-white interracial marriages. The quote about looking at the Black community, as one that is hated in the eyes of white people (69) made me think of how white dominance comes to affect marital relations between interracial couples today, particularly between immigrants. If governance in marriage in America and Canada was rooted in the “chosen model”, how has it impacted America and Canada’s contemporary ideas of love and marriage? If the North Americans' conception of love has been affected by the racist laws, even unintentionally, do “we” the diaspora then experience and understand love in a fundamentally different form than our ancestors? Possibly as an ”outsider” to love? Within the law, and the social landscape of the country I have found myself in, will my love always be valued less in their eyes in comparison to a white, monogamous, heterosexual, christian couple?

Bengali Harlem, explores the intersections of race and societal marginalization, and aesthetics. One idea discussed in the first chapter was the impact of Orientalism as a form of aesthetic freedom within Western culture. The readings noted how Eastern aesthetics have been consumed by white Americans as symbols of sophistication and liberation. It was interesting to note how upper-middle-class Americans sought European sophistication through Eastern aesthetics (19). I found that this “liberation” through aesthetics was quite hypocritical. The Eastern aesthetic, which can be owned, eaten, and discarded is prized as a path toward the American “New Woman” (18). However, when women from the cultures these aesthetics originate from embrace them, they are often viewed through a Western lens as 'oppressed' or 'marginalized.”

The global networks created by the chikondars that were “ rooted in segregated Black communities” (19) give an example of the complex relationships marginalized communities create with one another. I found this relationship between South Asians and Black communities interesting, as I find that communities marginalized by a larger white society often look to Blackness, or at least Black communities, as a space for refuge and community building. However, while these communities may find refuge in historically Black spaces, they sometimes go on to marginalize or neglect Black communities in their pursuit of acceptance by the dominant white society. It was encouraging to see examples of solidarity between marginalized folks, specifically Ibrahim Choudry, the president of the Pakistan League, who, along with the Labour Temple All Faith Task Force advocated for civil rights on behalf of African Americans (187). It is interesting to observe the intermarriages between African American women and South Asian men, as historically, and presently, interracial marriages, particularly those involving a Black woman and non-white man as the counterpart, are rarely portrayed, or acknowledged in the media, and in historical narratives, because they do not conform to a white-dominated framework.