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excused through email sent on oct 1st

excused through email sent on oct 1st

excused through email sent on oct 1st

excused through email sent on oct 1st

Attended the "What Was the War on Terror" talk!

The author of Angry Queer Somali Boy presents how his queer identity is both a source of strength, yet a challenge for both the communities that he belongs to. His identity as queer sets him apart from Somali culture, which often rejects queerness; and his identity as Somali sets him apart in a Western society that subjects him to scrutiny and prejudice, especially through the idea of a "victim" queer POC.

In the chapter, his queerness is presented as a reclamation of identity and a rejection of the strict roles and expectations placed on him by his family and community. Despite this, he refuses to be presented as a victim, even when he recalls all his negative experiences. He critiques the hypocrisy he sees in both his father's actions as well as in Western society, which demands "loyalty" from immigrants while treating them with suspicion. In the same manner, living authentically as a queer person in the face of cultural and societal barriers highlights the importance of self definition to the author over conformity or victimhood, regardless of the spaces he belongs to.

i was not registered in the course yet (also had no access to the website)!

i was not registered in the course yet!

i was not registered in the course yet!

Indo-Pak basketball can be both powerful and contradictory. While it exists to resist stereotypes about South Asians, its existence also reinforces other stereotypes about other racialized groups as well as gender.

Thangaraj's paper on Indo-Pak basketball highlights how South Asian masculinity evolves through how they engage with Blackness. South Asian men who play basketball adopt cultural elements associated with Blackness, like certain slang or a specific style (mostly the aesthetic aspects of African American culture, in order to challenge the "model minority" stereotype that often confines them).

However, this adoption of "cultural Blackness" is not entirely innocent, as the people who adopt that culture only embrace the "cool" factor while distancing themselves from the struggles tied to Blackness, unintentionally reinforcing racial hierarchies and further commodifying the Black identity, but still detaching from the lived struggle. The idea of cultural Blackness offered South Asian men a way to live vicariously through this curated "American" identity, but they still did not fully adopt Black masculinity, because they viewed their own masculinity as more controlled and socially acceptable, reinforcing racial hierarchies while adopting select aspects of Black culture.

Thangaraj also analyzes how Indo-Pak basketball is framed as an exclusive and hypermasculine space where aggression and dominance define what a man is, which shuts out expressions of gender or sexuality, and further marginalizes women from participating in these activities. These spaces are also class exclusive and further showcase class divides within racialized communities, as participants often need resources for travel or gear, which would reinforce financial barriers.

Islamophobia is often used to shape a specific type of Quebec nationalism that creates an exclusive idea of the “Quebec” identity by defining “the other.” By emphasizing that values like secularism, gender equality, and modernity are central to Quebec’s identity, Muslim communities are often portrayed by islamophobes as incompatible with these ideals. This is especially evident in debates about “reasonable accommodation,” where Islam is framed as a threat to women’s rights and Quebec’s social fabric. This is deeply tied to Quebec’s historical fears of religious control, which have now been projected onto minority religious communities, particularly Muslims and those wearing the hijab or dastar. In this manner, minorities are expected to cater to the white man's (unreasonable?) fear.

Practices like wearing the hijab are unfairly labeled as symbols of oppression (tying into my previous discussion; yet another example of how white communities shift blame onto minority groups……….) and in the Mahrouse reading, we can see how the minority group were the ones pressured to follow "Quebec values" just to relieve the anxieties of the people with the upper hand.

Policies, like those restricting the public display of religious symbols, are justified as protecting gender equality or secularism but disproportionately target minority groups. For example, Muslim women wearing the hijab or Sikh men wearing the dastar are often the primary targets, further marginalizing these communities and casting them as outsiders. These measures help reinforce a distinct Quebec identity by promoting the idea that the province must defend itself against those who might “threaten” its vision of that identity. But the concept of the Quebec identity is used to rationalize exclusion and deepen divisions.

Sunera Thobani’s chapter about why imagining cultural communities as “neatly distinguishable” highlights how this view oversimplifies complex identities into one stereotype of “traditional practices” rather than lived experiences, ignoring intersectionality and important differences like class, gender, and age. She argues that non-white people are often seen as “backward” or intolerant or stuck in the past because this way of thinking makes white people seem more progressive and open minded, shifting the focus away from their own injustices.

This stereotyping becomes particularly evident in how the rights of women are framed in the West versus the Middle East. In Western media, practices like women wearing abayas or hijabs are often highlighted as evidence of the “backwardness” of those cultures. In the West’s eyes, the entire Middle East becomes oppressive to women, painting women as brainless followers of men. While there are cases where such practices are forced (cases that do demand attention) this focus on MENA as “backward” ignores systemic violence against women in the West, such as the high rates of domestic abuse and homelessness that disproportionately harm women. For instance, domestic abuse remains a leading cause of death for women in many Western countries, and countless women are pushed into homelessness after fleeing violence. What’s often left out of the conversation is that homelessness disproportionately affects women of color due to the structural racism and economic inequality in the West, which means that women of color are more likely to experience poverty, housing insecurity, and domestic violence, putting them at even greater risk of homelessness. By ignoring these realities, Western narratives paint violence against women as a uniquely “Arab” or “Muslim” issue while overlooking the systemic barriers faced by marginalized women in their own societies. Like Thobani argued, framing issues as unique to certain groups makes it so the white people are seen as the progressive ones.

The same reductive framing is also evident in how Western people discuss LGBTQ+ rights in the context of Palestine. Pinkwashing is often used to position Israel as progressive and tolerant while framing Palestinians as inherently homophobic or intolerant. This tactic distracts from all the violence occurring under Israeli occupation, where Palestinians are killed or oppressed not for their sexual orientation, but for their very existence as Palestinians. The whole “homophobic Arab” ideology reinforces harmful stereotypes about Arab culture while diverting attention away from Palestinian voices and struggles for liberation. It makes white people feel better to support the killing of a group they deem homophobic. But the truth is, Palestinians are killed simply for being Palestinian, and other aspects of identity, such as sexuality, become irrelevant in the face of this reality. The West’s performative activism fails to address the root causes of inequality and injustice. It is hypocritical to claim solidarity with marginalized groups, such as queer people, while ignoring or undermining the liberation of Palestinians, whose oppression is deeply tied to systems of colonialism and white supremacy. As Thobani emphasizes, framing non-Western communities as inherently backwards or stuck in tradition only serves to distract from the structural inequalities perpetuated by white people.

Overall, Thobani’s chapter shows these aspects of “backwardness” are used to avoid accountability. The false narrative of distinct and unchanging communities misrepresents the lived reality and prevents progress, shifting all the blame onto marginalized groups themselves, essentially saying, “you did this to yourself.”

In No Name in the Street, James Baldwin talks about how the French see themselves as morally superior to Americans, especially when it comes to their relationship to race. They treat him, a Black American, as “civilized” and use this comparison to distance themselves from American racism. Baldwin points out the hypocrisy, quoting their claim, “le noir Américain est très évolué, voyons!”. They are essentially saying that as a Black American, Baldwin is somehow more "advanced" or "civilized" compared to the Algerians or other non-European peoples. This statement is deeply ironic and loaded with condescension, as it positions Baldwin as an exception to their general stereotypes about Black or colonized people. Additionally, the French use the idea that they’re “not racist like the Americans” to make themselves feel superior, while ignoring their own colonial and racial injustices. Baldwin’s experience highlights how the French idea of racism is ironic, since they criticize American racism and see Baldwin as a "good" Black person (backhanded comment), yet they contrast him to the "uncivilized" Arabs.

This is also prevalent in other countries like Canada. Canada often positions itself as this beacon of multiculturalism compared to the US, but it has its own issues, especially systemically, that contradict that image. Baldwin’s observations make it clear that racism isn’t just an American problem, it’s everywhere - but countries like France and Canada avoid taking a look at their own histories by taking an “easy route” and pointing fingers at America. Baldwin’s question “how was it that the French, armed with centuries of civilized grace, had been unable to civilize the Arab?” really stuck with me, because it shows how these countries use their supposed civility as a way to dodge accountability.

Namazie’s poem presents the idea of vatan (homeland) as a place that is always changing, and is constructed more by memory and retold stories than by its physical reality. The author of the poem describes how homeland is constantly changing, but the emotional connection of those in the diaspora remains strong, filled with feelings of loss and longing, rather than actual physical experience - as described in the poem by “the map has changed but the longing remains.”

Namazie describes vatan as "a myth passed down like a family heirloom,” implying that the concept of homeland is shaped by collective memory (likely from migrant family or family back in the homeland) and storytelling rather than direct experience. This makes the homeland an imagined space, which may not reflect reality and can feel more daunting than comforting, challenging traditional ideas of vatan as a source of comfort and belonging.

On the second page, the author looks at it from a queer perspective, where the idea of homeland becomes even more complex. Namazie suggests that vatan is “timeless and stateless,” indicating that for queer and trans individuals, the homeland is less about physical territory and more about ongoing acts of cultural survival and self-assertion, reflecting an experience, rather than a fixed, comforting location.

In that sense, homeland is represented as a place shaped by memory rather than tangible reality

In the early 20th century, the Canadian government’s goal through immigration was to grow the economy and keep the country culturally similar to its European roots, which made them have clear ideas about what made a “good” immigrant. The government specifically looked for people who could work in agriculture, industry, or help build infrastructure. At the same time, there was a strong preference for immigrants from Britain, France, and other Western European countries. These groups were seen as more likely to fit in with the existing population, which was mostly white, English-speaking, and Christian.

Laws like the 1906 and 1910 Immigration Acts gave the government a lot of power to decide who could enter the country. They used these laws to exclude people based on financial or health status (or even “morals”). Non-European immigrants, especially those from Asia, Eastern Europe, and the Middle East, faced strict requirements because of the fear that they wouldn’t easily fit into Canadian society.

In my opinion, the focus on economic skills and contributions is ironic, especially when compared to today’s reality. Even now, many immigrants come to Canada with strong qualifications, like doctors or engineers, but they aren’t allowed to work in these fields right away. They often have to go through a long (and expensive) process to get recertified, even if they were fully trained in their home countries. This forces skilled immigrants to take on low-wage jobs, completely disregarding experience. I find this especially frustrating in healthcare. It’s also frustrating to see that while the government has always wanted immigrants who can help the economy, the system often blocks them from doing so.

Legal rulings have played a significant role in shaping who is defined as "white" and why being seen as white became attractive for many immigrant groups. Being classified as white offered practical benefits like the right to vote and better job opportunities. Gualtieri also describes how there is a "psychological compensation" tied to being white, providing social advantages and a sense of belonging in a society that placed high value on whiteness.

Legally, whiteness is enforced as an exclusive identity because the court decides who gets access to that identity, making it special and desirable - especially to Syrian immigrants in the US. For instance, the Gualtieri reading discusses George Dow, a Syrian immigrant who was initially denied citizenship because he wasn’t considered white. However, after community pushback, the court eventually ruled that Syrians were "white persons" granting them the legal status needed for citizenship.

This single legal decision effectively changed the racial status of an entire group, showing how getting access to the identity of whiteness was something that gave them access to essential rights and privileges otherwise denied to them. Regardless, the identity of racial groups is often always changing, based on those groups seeking inclusion as well as the legal system that consistently upholds a racial hierarchy that prioritizes whiteness.

Reading The End of Tolerance made me stop for a second and took me back to the events that happened this summer in the UK, events that sounded too dystopian to be true. Kundnani argues that British integrationist policies and rhetoric have systematically shifted blame for social issues onto minority groups, particularly Muslims, who are frequently scapegoated.

One current example that underlines this same trend is the Southport attack that happened this August. The attacker killed three young girls, and crowds took to the streets, attacking random migrants and Muslims. This led to large riots that endangered the lives of many Muslims in the UK. When this attack happened, initial misinformation was shared that the knife attacker was Muslim reflecting how easily Muslims can be cast as scapegoats, reinforcing Kundnani’s point about the racialization of Muslim identity, where Muslims are often portrayed as a homogeneous "threat."

The attacks did not just target Muslims; Asian-owned businesses were also looted or vandalized, representing how racism operates under a broad brush that does not distinguish between individuals but lumps entire communities into a single, threatening “other.”

Kundnani talks about integrationist policies and how they have created a climate where difference itself is framed as a danger, making it easy for media to label Muslims and other minorities as outsiders, associating them with danger and extremism. This further creates an excuse for racially charged violence.

Integrationist policies encourage viewing certain groups as “problems” that must be managed or corrected, rather than communities to be included. Forced integration can become a form of exclusion, demanding that minorities bear the burden of proving their “Britishness” or to have to hide their true identity to be safe.

This also applies in many other contexts. For instance, Canada’s treatment of Indigenous communities, where they make it seems like Indigenous people have to leave behind their cultural heritage to gain a "prerequisite" for success in life. Indigenous people face significant structural barriers (all enforced by the white government) when living on reserves (limited healthcare, education, and employment) leaving many with the built in message that in order for them to have a better life, they must leave their communities and assimilate into a society that operates by colonial standards.

The integrationist demand that minority communities must conform to in order to be accepted or safe reveals the inherent flaws in a system that equates “unity” with assimilation, further marginalizing and erasing communities.

Tensions between the Muslim Brotherhood USA and the Nation of Islam arose because they had extremely different beliefs about race, the identity of Black Muslims, and Islam's practice. Despite differences, they both were rooted in the intention of uplifting Black American Muslims, however they had contrasting ideas about how and why. The Muslim Brotherhood USA promoted Islam as a universal religion that could bring people of all races and backgrounds together, which completely and directly opposed the Nation of Islam's view. NOI centered on Black empowerment through separation from white society. An interesting belief of the Nation of Islam is how all white people are devils, which is mentioned when Malcolm X learns from his brother that the NOI views white people as inherently evil or "devils". This belief explains the separation from white society. The Nation of Islam believed that the origin of man was Black and emerged in Africa, and integrated “Black particularism” into their belief system.

Under this premise, the Nation of Islam practiced religion in a way that was tailored specifically to Black Americans. They were publicly criticized by Talib Dawud through an article because it was (negatively) predicted by him that the Qur'an would eventually be replaced by a book written exclusively for Black people. This did not sit well with Muslim Brotherhood USA, because they held on to more traditional Islamic practices and focused on including Black people as part of a global Muslim community rather than a separate identity. An example of this is the Muslim Brotherhood USA's focus on praying in mosques and facing the qibla (the Kaaba in Mecca), in unity with other Muslims, regardless of race. On the other hand. the NOI used "temples" instead of mosques focusing on a practice that was exclusive to Black Muslims.

Overall, The Muslim Brotherhood USA and Nation of Islam both aimed to uplift Black Muslims but mostly had tensions arise due to extremely different ideas when it came to how. The Muslim Brotherhood USA focused more on the integration of Black Muslims with wider society, while the NOI focused on the exclusivity of Black Muslims.

For migrants, cultural food is both a comfort and a source of nostalgia, adapting as it connects them to heritage and helps them navigate new surroundings. This connection feels especially meaningful for Muslim communities in Britain, where finding halal food can be a challenge and often requires creative adaptation. Thinking about food as a link to home reminded me of someone I often see on Instagram, Renad Ataullah, a young cook from Gaza. Her viral videos show the remarkable ways food can express resilience and preserve identity, even under harsh conditions. (For reference, here is the link to her Instagram page: https://www.instagram.com/renadfromgaza?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet&igsh=ZDNlZDc0MzIxNw==)

Buettner’s insights into South Asian food in Britain highlight a similar experience, where "South Asian restaurants and the cuisine they serve illuminate a persistent yet evolving dialectic between the rejection and embrace of the 'other.' ... Although these establishments spread throughout Britain to be found even in small towns with few Asian residents... their dishes normally differ markedly from what is consumed in the subcontinent and, for that matter, by most people of South Asian origin in Britain.” Many of these restaurants adapt their dishes to local tastes, a reflection of how migrants often have to compromise their identity for a stamp of approval. Similarly, limited access to halal food in Britain means Muslim communities adapt recipes to balance their cultural identity with the realities of a new setting that lacks the resources to support that identity.

Renad’s story in Gaza mirrors this in a much different context. With scarce ingredients, she makes traditional Palestinian dishes out of whatever she can find in aid boxes, providing a taste of home under unimaginable restrictions. Her cooking isn’t just about food, or even about being nourished while starvation is being used as a war tactic. To me, it feels more like a way of preserving Palestinian identity and sharing her culture with the world, despite the attempt to stifle it. Just like South Asian food in Britain has been reshaped by its surroundings, Renad’s recipes are adapted for survival but still rooted in her heritage, blending her memory of cultural food with her current reality.

Mannur’s idea of “culinary nostalgia” fits both situations. Muslim migrants in Britain, facing limited halal options, as well as adapting their food to their setting, find it hard to fully recreate the tastes of home, just as Renad’s limited ingredients make each dish different than what it would originally be - yet both comforting and melancholic. Her videos turn basic ingredients into symbols of Palestinian heritage, showing how food can be a symbol of cultural resistance - from Britain to Gaza.

So to answer the question: How is food linked to migrant melancholia? Under situationships of hardship, or situations where it feels like your culture is being stifled, food becomes a way to preserve culture and honour tradition. Food in diaspora (and conflict) settings is more than sustenance and becomes a desire to create a nostalgic sense of home, and in turn creates the bittersweet feeling of melancholia for migrants.

While reading Chapter 5 of Bengali Harlem, I realized how embracing collective marginalization can be a powerful form of resistance. Vivek Bald highlights how Bengali immigrants were drawn to the multicultural setting of New York (Harlem particularly), because it allowed them to blend in with other marginalized communities. Of course, this didn’t shield them from the racism that loomed over American society, but it provided them with a sense of belonging. Like African Americans, Puerto Ricans, and Caribbean communities in Harlem, Bengali immigrants faced societal marginalization, and this shared experience between all these communities became the basis for solidarity and political evolution.

In my political science classes, we often discuss how powerful nations (particularly in Europe and the US) historically employ a "divide and conquer" strategy to maintain control over regions or people, particularly in the Global South. This strategy basically highlights divisions among groups to make it easier to manipulate and dominate them.

In the US, "divide and conquer" has been a key tactic in maintaining racial and economic dominance within the state. By fostering ingrained racism between marginalized groups, the ruling class could often marginalize them easier. We see this when certain racialized groups are categorized by how 'civilized' they are in a white person's eyes, and that 'civilization' often heavily relies on racial or economic differences - which tends to then create a hierarchy within racialized communities as well, making them easier targets.

In the context of Bengali Harlem, this divide and conquer strategy could have worked by encouraging divisions between Bengali immigrants, African Americans, Puerto Ricans, and other groups. However, through the reading, I noticed that in Harlem, the community chose collective marginalization as a form of resistance, embracing that they are different from others, which makes them similar to each other. (I hope this is making sense). The people in Harlem, though from different backgrounds, united on the basis that they are similarly oppressed, which created a collective force that challenged the social norm.

The marriages between Indian and Bengali lascars to African American, Puerto Rican, and Caribbean women was a practical choice, since it was harder for Indian women to enter the US due to immigration restrictions - however, the choice to create multicultural families demonstrates how these groups actively resisted the racial hierarchies meant to keep them segregated. Systems often try to isolate marginalized groups in hopes that they 'die out' but the choice to create a multicultural society fights that. And collective strength is always effective. The collective experiences of marginalized groups in Harlem became a strategy for survival and resistance