Melancholic Migrants > Forum Home

The notion os homonationalism as theorized by Puar, describes the incorporation of LGBTQ+ subjects into nationalist ideologies to reinforce the legitimacy of the nation-state, often at the expense of marginalized groups. In this context the gay American Desis after 9/11, homonationalism manifested through the intersection of queerness, race and post-9/11 Islamophobia. Post 9/11, South Asian queer diasporic communities in the US faced the dual stigmatization of being racialized as "terrorist bodies" and navigating the expectations of queer exceptionalism. This duality reinforced the pressure for gay Desis to adopt and project a normatively "acceptable" Americanness. For example, queer South Asians were sometimes positioned as "model minorities" within the LGBTQ+ movement, reflecting an assimilationist impulse that prioritized their Americanness while distancing themselves from stigmatized "terrorist" identities. A Pakistani Muslim queer man quoted in the text noted how his sexuality "took a back seat to [his] ethnicity," (Puar, 173) explaining how the racialized surveillance of South Asians reoriented priorities within queer activism toward navigating Islamophobia and racial profiling. Puar's concept of the "monster-terrorist-fag" amalgam encapsulates the ways in which queer South Asians were constructed as both potential allies of the state (through queer exceptionalism) and as racialized threats. Also, the turbaned body, frequently conflated with terrorist imagery, became a focal point of fear and exclusion of Sikhs. For queer Desis, the turban complicated their potential inclusion in the queer liberal subject by keeping them as both culturally "backward" and racially suspect. Their queerness was instrumentalized to affirm their Americanness, even as their racial and cultural identities positioned them as suspect in the war on terror.

The relationship between sexularism and Orientalism lies in how both addresses construct and perpetuate hierarchical binaries between the West and the East with distinct main points. Sexularism, as described by Joan Scott, ties secularization to a teleological narrative that equates modernity with gender equality and sexual emancipation. It says religion, particularly Islam as inherently oppressive to women and non-heteronormative sexualities. This very binary associates the West with modernity, freedom and progress while portraying Muslim societies as traditional, patriarchal and sexually regressive. This idea aligns with Said’s notion of Orientalism, which depicted the Muslim world as "other" to justify Western cultural and political superiority. Although classical Orientalism portrayed the Muslim world as a site of sexual excess, sexularism reimagines it as a space of sexual oppression that threatens Western ideals of freedom. Making the West the keeper of sexual and gender rights, supporting a moral and cultural superiority that underpins Western national and geopolitical projects. By making sexularism a "reconfigured Orientalism," deeply trapped in Western sexual nationalisms. It operates as a political myth, creating a self-narrative for Western nations that justifies government over racialized and religious minorities and it naturalizes tensions about national identity and survival, especially in contexts like Quebec, where the constant debates over accommodation frame Muslims and other immigrants as threats to the nation's values.

Bannerji critiques Canadian multiculturalism as a policy that does more than manage cultural differences it rather actively constructs and governs them entrenching these differences in the "national" identity while perpetuating inequalities. By framing non-white populations mainly through their cultural identities, multiculturalism emphasizes cultural distinctiveness over structural issues like systemic racism. This reconfiguration hides racial inequality by offering cultural diversity as the direct lens for inclusion, distracting attention from broader systemic barriers in this country. Canada’s national identity remains rooted in bilingual (English & French) and bicultural (implicitly white) ideals. This structure marginalizes racialized groups, positioning them as "others" who are tolerated but not fully integrated. Their inclusion is contingent on cultural differences, which strengthens their status as outsiders in the national narrative. The notion also fetishizes "cultural strangers," marking their distinctiveness as markers of diversity while also maintaining the white dominance. Immigrants and racialized communities are welcomed conditionally with their cultural identities commodified to improve the Canada's global image. The policy erases the old realities of racism and colonialism by rebranding Canada as a tolerant and racially inclusive nation but it rathers suppresses discussions of institutional racism and shifts the burden of integration onto marginalized communities, erasing their longstanding contributions and struggles (especially in Quebec). Bannerji argued that Canadian multiculturalism constructs "difference" as a tool to celebrate and govern racialized communities while maintaining white dominance. By hiding systemic inequalities under the impression of cultural diversity, the policy perpetuates Canada’s image as tolerant and progressive, even as it marginalizes and racializes non-white populations.

Martin’s interviewees including Karim and Tsiory shows the deep and persistent sense of feeling like “forever foreigners” despite their efforts to assimilate and integrate. Karim speaks to reveal the deeply ingrained barriers that prevent full acceptance into French society. Although a French citizen who has lived and worked in France for over 25 years, Karim's personal experiences emphasize a painful realization of perpetual foreignness that doesn't leave. essentially, the workplace demographics where the overwhelming presence of "Français de souche"(ethnically French) in workplace, especially in high positions. Although Karim received a promotion 4 years prior and believes the process was unbiased, the demographics highlight an implicit barrier. Cultural assimilation is another limitation, for Karim who adopted French values and fully “assimilated” to the point of identifying himself as “more French than the French.” A form of “false assimilation,” emerges which reflects the disillusionment of performing cultural assimilation without achieving social belonging of the all these immigrants who are bound to call the new land as their home. Something else Karim talks about is the feeling of “forever foreignness” which extends beyond himself and to his children, who have spent their entire lives in France, have French first names, and have a mother who is Française de souche. Despite all this, he says that his children cannot be considered fully French because they “have kinky hair and are métis.” This perception highlights how visible markers of ethnicity overrides the legal status or cultural upbringing. The unchangeable nature of appearance remains around and adds to the "foreigner forever,” solidifying his belief that non-White individuals are perpetually viewed as outsiders. Tsiory’s experience also complements Karim's experience, in having experienced the feeling of exclusion and how perceived foreignness manifests in professional and social interactions. Tsiory was overqualified for his job and accepted a job below his qualifications (relevant if we think about the Canadian Work Experience need for all the immigrants). He internalized his fear of appearing as the "foreigner" which would later show how inferior he would feel. He talks about self-subordination - deliberately presenting himself as less knowledgeable and capable, to prevent confrontation and reinforce French colleagues' feeling of superiority.

Overall emotional burden, feeling of alienation and identity conflict faced by the non-White/immigrants in France. The legal status doesn't matter because this runs deeper than just legal status, it's ingrained in the minds which leads to feelings of being “forever foreigners,” irrespective of how integrated or generationally rooted individuals are in France. The sense of exclusion that shapes their social and personal identities, perpetuates a cycle of alienation.

The Ugandan Asians during the expulsion crisis of 1972 shaped various governments approached to their classification and treatment. These individuals were forced out of Uganda under threatening circumstances by Idi Amin’s decree, the Canadian government did not officially consider them refugees according to international definitions. The 1951 UN convention relating to the status of refugees and its 1967 Protocol outline specific criteria for refugee status requiring that individuals be outside their country of nationality and unable or unwilling to return due to a well-founded fear of persecution. And according to the Canadian government, most Ugandan Asians did not meet these conditions because they often held citizenships of other nations, such as Britain, India, Pakistan or Bangladesh, where they could "theoretically" seek refuge. Despite the official standpoint, Canada’s approach to resettlement painted a more subtle picture. The acting high commissioner for Uganda (Reginald Smith) emphasized that Ugandan Asian expellees were not “destitute refugees” but rather desirable immigrants, characterizing the situation as “a windfall for us.” This framing emphasized their educational, entrepreneurial or the skilled backgrounds, suggesting that their resettlement aligned more with an "immigration strategy" than a humanitarian response. Canadian officials recognized the potential contributions of Ugandan Asians and sought to mitigate public fears surrounding unemployment by pointing out that they were unlikely to displace Canadian workers. Many citizens believed that resources should first serve domestic needs, arguing that charity should prioritize Canadian citizens, especially given existing socio-political strains involving French, English, and Indigenous relations. Althoigh Canada accepted and facilitated the resettlement of Ugandan Asians, it did not officially recognize them as refugees. The government’s decision hinged on international refugee law definitions and the availability of other options for the expellees. Instead, they were categorized as immigrants or expellees, stressing their complex legal and social status within Canadian policy and public discourse.

Gualtieri’s exploration of "Syrian melancholia" in the mahjar (diaspora) reflects the dual experience of loss and gain faced by Syrians who migrated to America. This melancholia represents the emotional and cultural dissonance experienced by immigrants as they navigated their new identities and aimed to reconcile their past with their present. Syrians in America often struggled with the loss of their distinct cultural and national identity. Nostalgia for their land, rooted in the rich cultural traditions was difficult to maintain in a foreign land. The myth of Phoenician heritage, employed by some as a tool to craft a noble and ancient immigrant origin, highlights a longing for connection to the past. This mythology, emphasizing their lineage as descendants provided historical pride and continuity, compensating for the sense of disconnection and maintaining cultural distinctiveness in the mahjar. The migration experience also disrupted traditional family structures. Not all women came through chain migration, challenging the male-dominated migration narrative. however, the economic opportunities were a primary motivator for Syrians’ migration, shaping their American experience. The "rags to riches" narrative became emblematic within the Syrian community, echoing the ancient Phoenician trader’s story of commercial success. Many Syrians became peddlers and store owners, integrating into the American economy and laying a foundation for their descendants. Migration also led to a redefinition of social roles, particularly for women. Stories of widowed or independently migrating women took on new responsibilities and contributed to their community's economic and social fabric. This shift signified a gain in autonomy and set a precedent for more diverse roles within the Syrian American experience.

What a song to listen to right after the elections!! In the lyrics, he says "One must bow to the fat and lazy..." got me thinking about Trump (I know it's mean but). I watched this youtube video about the rise of Trump and the producer was explaining his greed of power and money. I think this is something that was reflected in the last term. Anyways, going back to this amazing song (full of grooves too smh) - "you don’t give money to the bums on the corner … something about you don’t support a crackhead. what do you think happens to the money from your taxes?" It’s a commentary on how public resources are managed and who benefits from them, touching on the often hypocritical views surrounding social support and taxation. These lyrics feel particularly relevant to recent political conversations about social programs and tax policies. They make us question who we deem “worthy” of support and how power structures determine these priorities.

Maghbouleh’s "Persian exceptionalism" refers to the belief among Iranian Americans that they are distinct or superior within the Middle Eastern context, rooted in cultural narratives of racial and cultural purity. This idea stems from the Aryan heritage ideologies brought by Iranian immigrants, emphasizing uniqueness and superiority. Intergenerational conflicts highlight this very concept, involving debates over the link between Aryans and Iranians, unique Iranian traits, and exceptionalism itself. The faravahar, an ancient Zoroastrian symbol repurposed by the Pahlavi regime, exemplifies this pride serving as a secular emblem of national identity and often appearing in diaspora as a symbol of heritage. Second-generation Iranian Americans often adopt these symbols to connect with a pre-Islamic past, despite most of their ancestors being Muslim. This selective reclaiming reflects a desire for cultural pride but also exposes contradictions in identity construction. All in all, "Persian exceptionalism" shapes Iranian American identity by emphasizing Aryan heritage and cultural superiority within broader racial and ethnic narratives.

In the aftermath of the Macpherson report David Blunkett (Labour politician) reacted ambivalently to accusations of institutional racism, often dismissing or reframing the term. The 1999 Macpherson report which emerged from the inquiry into the racially motivated murder of Stephen Lawrence, concluded that there was institutional racism within British police forces. This marked a turning point officially recognizing the systemic exclusion and bias faced by non-white communities. Blunkett then serving as Education Secretary, publicly downplayed the notion of "institutional racism," characterizing it as a “slogan” that he felt detracted from broader social cohesion and the concept of British national culture. Blunkett argued that focusing on institutional racism and anti-racist education risked undermining national unity, stating that Britain needed to promote pride in its culture rather than focusing on divisions. When he became Home Secretary in 2001 he took further steps to distance policy from Macpherson's recommendations. For instance, he rarely attended meetings of the steering group responsible for overseeing the Macpherson report's implementation, although he was its designated chair. Under Blunkett's tenure there was a shift toward a policy framework of "integrationism" in which emphasis was placed on the responsibility of non-white and immigrant communities to integrate into British society. This was framed as a way to promote social stability and cohesion, especially in the wake of the 2001 riots in northern towns and the events of 9/11.Racism, previously understood as stemming from institutional or societal biases, was now portrayed as the result of non-white communities failing to assimilate, thus supposedly contributing to social unrest. This perspective, supported by Blunkett and others, normalized hostility toward minority groups, framing it as an inevitable reaction to cultural diversity rather than a consequence of systemic prejudice.

Drew Ali's Moorish Science uniquely combined particularistic and universalistic elements in its interpretation of Islam, shaping it as both a racial and cultural identity. He placed Islam as a heritage specifically for "Asiatic peoples" nonwhite groups whom he saw as the sole recipients of divine salvation. This particularism set Moorish Science apart from universalist Islam which accepts all races. Ali ingrained his teachings with universal ethics supporting ideals of peace, justice, and brotherhood while maintaining Islam’s exclusivity for nonwhite followers. He adopted Edward Blyden’s concept of self-determination, envisioning a harmonious world where distinct racial identities could coexist independently. This alignment created a unique parallel between Ali’s ideas and white American nationalism, mirroring the racial identity distinctions present in U.S. immigration policy. He reframed black identity within Islam as both cultural and national, supporting racial purity while advocating for racial pride and autonomy among black Americans. Ali’s Moorish Science used Islam to affirm a distinct identity for nonwhite peoples, promoting self-determined unity and harmonious coexistence among culturally distinct groups.

The British practice of "going for an Indian," particularly as described in the 1960s and 1970s, intertwined deeply with notions of masculinity and colonial nostalgia. "The newly emergent social ritual Taylor described was an overwhelmingly young, male, and working- or lower-middle-class phenomenon. “Going for an Indian,” he recounted, was “very much a boys’ thing, a boys’ night out” for the younger members of an increasingly affluent postwar society with money to spend on leisure and consumption," (Buettner, 153). This ritual was the act of dining at Indian restaurants for young men to assert their masculinity, often through competitive behaviour, such as daring each other to eat spicy dishes like a vindaloo or engaging in rowdy manners that demonstrated their "toughness". The setting of Indian restaurants facilitated a kind of playful yet problematic behaviour where displays of power were commonplace. Taylor narrates, that part of the ritual involved teasing the often "servile" waitstaff, who were dressed in formal attire reminiscent of colonial service uniforms. This dynamic mirrored the power relations of the British colonial past, where dominance over colonial subjects was the norm. In this sense, "going for an Indian" became an opportunity to play out a soft version of colonial nostalgia revelling in the perceived superiority over the restaurant staff, who were often immigrants or people of South Asian descent. The "boys' night out" was not just about food but about performing a kind of masculine solidarity in spaces associated with Britain's imperial history. The casual racism seen in the way young men took pleasure in mocking or belittling waitstaff, reflected the racial hierarchies of the colonial era, in a more socially accepted form.

In early 20th century California, marriages between Punjabi men and Mexican women significantly benefited both respectivegroups. These unions helped both communities overcome social, economic and cultural challenges in the society that often marginalized them. For Punjabi men, these marriages were crucial for social and legal integration. Anti-miscegenation laws prevented them from marrying white women, but marrying Mexican women who were not subject to these restrictions, allowed Punjabi men to form legally recognized and socially accepted families in the U.S. For the financial aspect, these marriages were beneficial as well. Mexican wives played a crucial role in farming and family businesses, contributing to the financial stability of the household. This support especially became important because many Punjabi men worked in agriculture (with prior knowledge as you mentioned in the class), and the partnership with Mexican women helped create successful farming. These marriages eased the cultural adjustment for Punjabi men, as they adopted aspects of Mexican culture. This adaptation improved their acceptance in local communities and reduced social isolation they were earlier facing. For Mexican women, these marriages provided economic security, as Punjabi men were known for their dedication to agricultural work. By becoming part of these financially stable farming operations, Mexican women enjoyed a more secure livelihood. Marrying Punjabi men sometimes offered them increased social mobility, with access to landownership and added business opportunities. Food, can we please do a field trip to try out the fusion food!

A saying in Hindi that all the grannies use is, "The way to your heart is through your stomach." Honestly, I see that food can work in mysterious ways and for all the good reasons (mostly)! As I write this post, I can only think about chole bhature ;_;

Food has been an integral part of every culture, especially for immigrants as this is one thing they cherish and hold onto in their new lives. The Indian immigrants in New York played an important role as food emerged as a means of survival and a way to maintain Indian cultural identity. Many Bengali ex-seamen found opportunities in food vending or opened small restaurants, which gave them to escape factories and kitchen labour. Establishing and running food businesses enabled them to achieve some economic independence and build community bonds within the new alienating environments. These vendors and restaurant owners also ensured their food aligned with Indian dietary practices, particularly avoiding pork. Eating at each other’s pushcarts or establishments created a sense of trust within the community, offering reassurance that the food respected religious boundaries. Eventually, these eateries became communal spaces where immigrants could gather, speak in their native languages, and discuss political developments in South Asia.
Indian food businesses also played an important role in fostering relationships between Indians and other communities, particularly African Americans and Puerto Ricans in Harlem. Vendors on the streets and restaurant owners became a familiar presence, contributing to the social life of Harlem. These eateries catered to diverse tastes, offering now both Indian and American dishes, which encouraged intercultural exchanges.

Mo Muse's rap was very symbolic and revolved around the Friday, which is a holy day for Muslims;
"Friday has a layer of holiness,
An escape from the loneliness,
we feel from alienation controlling us.
Friday is the only day we feel we belong,
The longing for home,
Inside of our home away from home."
Mo presents a powerful juxtaposition between a day meant for peace and worship and the horror of the white supremacist attack that shattered this sanctuary for the Muslim community in both Australia and Quebec. The "alienation" many Muslims feel in societies where they are often marginalized or viewed as "other," stems from living in a world dominated by xenophobia, Islamophobia, and systemic exclusion based on religion and race. There is an emotional connotation to Friday for breaking away from these feelings when they come together to pray, the mosque becomes more than a physical place, it symbolizes a cultural and spiritual refuge. The violence on such a holy day serves as a reminder of how white supremacy and Islamophobia disrupt the spiritual and emotional lives of marginalized groups.

The creation of "White Australia" in 1901 can be explained by the desire of the newly federated Australian government to build a dominion that prioritized white settlers and restricted the movement/presence and economic activities of non-white groups, particularly South Asians. This policy was to solidify through various legislative measures that targeted workers, merchants, and their capital, significantly transforming the landscape for South Asians in Australia. The immediate consequence of the "White Australia" policy was the restriction of imports, including camels, which were crucial to the livelihoods of Afghan and South Asian camel drivers. In 1901, Faiz Mahomet attempted to bring 500 camels from Karachi to Australia, only to be blocked by Australian officials. This marked a shift in the government’s stance, aimed at limiting non-white economic activities. Faiz responded by suing the Western Australian government for "breach of contract," seeking damages for the prohibited import. Despite these restrictions, South Asians, like Faiz and his family, tried to counter the limitations imposed by "White Australia." Abraham’s efforts shows the persistence of South Asians in trying to maintain their businesses and livelihoods, despite the challenges posed by racial policies. There were also social and legal challenges that were faced by them. Disputes over property and family control became intertwined with race and gender issues. They can be seen fighting back through legal and business efforts, but also faced social challenges aggravated by the racialized environment.

Women entered into relationships with racialized men in the UK, especially white Welsh women who married Muslim seafarers, who were often from lower social classes. They met these men in places like boarding houses or cafes, and their relationships were shaped by many things. Many Muslim men spent a long time away from their home countries and had limited social options. At the same time, the women themselves were often marginalized within their own socioeconomic communities. One reason these relationships developed was because isolation faced by Muslim seafarers. Being away from home for extended periods, these men lacked the traditional family and social structures they were used to. This led them to form alliances with local women in the region away from their usual marriage patterns. For the women these relationships offered economic and social opportunities. Many took on roles as mediators helping their husbands negotiate housing and employment, which increased their independence and responsibility within the household. For the women there were many benefits. They often gained more independence, especially in managing the household or raising children according to Islamic values. Some even took on leadership roles in female only religious gatherings, which increased their standing within the local Muslim communities. For women who converted to Islam, these relationships also brought a sense of belonging and purpose empowering them in both their personal and social lives. However, these relationships also came with challenges. Many women became estranged from their families because their relationships with "racialized men" were seen as socially unacceptable. Both their families and the Muslim communities they married into often scrutinized them, adding to their feelings of isolation. They faced cultural surveillance, with their behaviour and reputation being closely monitored, especially during their husbands' absences. These marriages were also subject to broader societal tensions. Relationships between white women and men of colour were often stigmatized by the wider society, leading to negative stereotypes and racial tensions. Local newspapers and authorities sometimes fueled these attitudes, further marginalizing the women involved. It is a blend of both benefits and disadvantages for having entered into a union with racialized men in the UK.

Outward practices like prayer posed significant challenges to enslaved Muslims in ways that the shahada did not, primarily due to their public and ritualistic nature, which made them difficult to observe under conditions of enslavement in non-Muslim environments. The shahada is a verbal declaration of faith, simple and private, "There is no God but God and Muhammad is the Prophet of God." This statement could be recited internally or in less obvious ways "by being a crypto Muslim", making it easier to maintain discreetly, even in hostile or restrictive conditions. On the other hand, salat presented several issues due to its structured and visible nature. Prayer is required five times a day at precise times and involves specific physical steps such as ablutions (washing the feet, forearms, hands, and face), the use of a prayer carpet, and, for women, they have to wear a veil. These actions can not be easily hidden, making it risky for enslaved Muslims to perform them in spaces and environments where Islam was forbidden or suppressed. The enslaved Muslims dealt with these challenges. Many of them resorted to secret prayer to avoid punishment, as maintaining a public prayer routine could draw unwanted attention. In the Americas, due to forced conversion policies and the general lack of religious tolerance for Islam, secret prayer became common. Thus, shahada could be maintained/practiced more easily and consistently by enslaved Muslims, allowing them to uphold their identity as Muslims even under difficult circumstances.

As I read about the accusations against Nicolas, the old saying came to mind - "when you point a finger at someone, four are pointing back at you." This idea seemed especially relevant in understanding people's complex judgments about Moriscos. The accusations against Nicolas show that people were judged to be Moriscos not just because of their religion, but also due to a wide range of social, cultural, and professional reasons. In Oliva's case, witnesses used his physical appearance, occupation, and religious practices to argue that he was a Morisco. For example, Oliva’s job as a bunolero, a bun maker was commonly associated with Moriscos, leading people to believe that his profession alone indicated his entire identity. Also, his skin colour and complexion highlight how racialized views about Moriscos were linked to ideas of "blood purity" and lineage in early modern Iberian society. Oliva’s religious actions also played a role in these accusations. He was reported to have invoked Muhammad instead of Christian figures, which raised more doubts and suspicion about his religious loyalty. This was seen as him being untrustworthy, particularly in financial matters. Witnesses pointed out his dishonesty in business and the absence of Christian symbols in his home made people question his morale. This shows how, at the time, religious identity was closely tied to one's reputation and trustworthiness. "Individuals in Spanish America who were accused of being descendants of Muslims and Moriscos, or who were called “dogs” and insulted publicly, used the courts to create and maintain status in a society in which purity of blood became increasingly important," (Cook, 102). Thus, the court system became a crucial tool for individuals like de Oliva to defend their honour and status in society, indicating that accusations of being Morisco were not just personal affronts but part of a larger societal obsession with maintaining a hierarchy based on lineage.

To understand why Addison Gilmo Rodez presented himself as a South Asian, we can see if is it due to racial and religious fluidity that existed in early 20th-century America. Rodez, a Puerto Rican and Spanish heritage, lived during a time when racial categories were rigidly defined and practiced, but for those who didn't fit neatly into these categories, there was some flexibility in how they could identify. His choice to claim a South Asian and Muslim identity can be attributed to many things. During, that time, there was increasing interaction between South Asian immigrants and Latinos, especially in immigrant communities. Many South Asian men who came to the U.S., particularly to the Southwest, married Mexican-American women. (FYI - I watched this tiktok a while back about the history of Mexican Punjabi and their roti paneer quesadillas- https://www.tiktok.com/@nadirnahdi/video/7283866406762843424). These marriages were often a result of the lack of South Asian women in the U.S. and the legal barriers preventing South Asian men from marrying white women. Although these marriages were relatively few, they did create a small but significant connection between South Asian immigrants and Latinos. Another major influence on Rodez’s decision was the spread of Islam in the U.S. through the Ahmadiyya Movement in the 1920s. This movement, led by Muhammad Sadiq, emphasized Islam as a religion that transcended racial divisions, which was especially appealing in a society deeply divided by race. Sadiq’s message attracted African Americans and some Latinos who were drawn to the idea of a faith that promoted racial equality. For someone like Rodez, a Puerto Rican-born man who had identified as "black" earlier in life, the Ahmadiyya message offered an alternative identity that allowed him to escape the racial discrimination he faced. His decision to claim an Islamic heritage and South Asian background can be seen as both a religious and racial strategy. By aligning himself with a South Asian and Muslim identity, he might have found a way to navigate the racial prejudices faced by African Americans and Puerto Ricans in early 20th-century America. The Ahmadiyya Movement’s message of racial equality through Islam provided Rodez with both spiritual fulfillment and a way to gain respect in certain circles. His adoption of South Asian titles, such as "Sufi Rajaba," and his claim of being from India, helped solidify his new identity, likely granting him a social standing and acceptance within the local Muslim community. Also, his active participation in the religious life of the community helped reinforce his adopted identity, making him a respected figure.

Nitin Sawnhey starts the song by repeating the word 'dreams', which appears to contradict the struggle of parents, we hear them say how much they sacrificed and very humbly say that with god's grace, their children are 'okay'. I don't know if this is brown culture-coded, but having listened to them talk reminds me of my own parents, it's exactly how they describe their migration from their villages to have come to the city and build everything from scratch for my brother and I. Coming back to the song, I believe it's the child of the migrant parents who are singing the song because there seems to be this disconnect between their parents' struggles and sacrifices as opposed to this kid who is now, supposedly raised in this new country. I can very much relate to the lyrics but what stayed with me is, "I can almost touch the soil beneath your whisper," here touch your soil means roots, a word used to associate where one comes from, a familial attached meaning. Soil plays a sentimental role, especially in South Asian culture, and here I can assume when the migrant parents would speak about their home/land, how roots 'jadh' or soil 'mitti' would stick around with the kid. It almost creates a link between the distant left homes and the values the parents are trying to instil with their future generations to take forward.

The melancholic migrant can be seen as a "could-be terrorist" because their focus on past trauma is viewed not just as a personal issue but as a threat to society. Their attachment to past suffering expressed through anger, pain, or misery creates anxiety in the national consciousness, turning them into a figure of fear in that society and environment. By refusing to let go of what is perceived as lost, the migrant is seen as acting in bad faith, which disrupts "national happiness" and risks affecting future generations. This potential transformation into a threat is driven by the fear that unresolved grievances could lead to radical actions, making the melancholic migrant a suspicious figure.

Sikhs are often mistaken as Muslims, they look different and have multiple religious symbols which makes them stand out but also put in the same "category" as the Muslims, but my question is why just "Muslims" and why not Jews or Hinduism or any other religion that displays their respective religious symbols. As Arora speaks about anti-sikh violence, she doesn’t throw Muslims or other racial minorities under the bus. If anything she brings forth a feeling of being ‘one’ as Sikhs and Muslims, as the minorities go through the same hatred crime. “I refuse to identify myself as 'not Muslim' and thus validate hate crimes against Muslims,” (Arora). Kamal is making a strong stance against Islamophobia, acknowledging that discrimination against one minority group feeds into the larger cycle of racism and xenophobia. Even though the Wisconsin shooting took place before 9/11, we can see that there was racism perpetuated before the incident. It makes me wonder if it’s the lack of knowledge or ignorance towards other religious minorities that the Western countries fail to address in their societies or if it’s simply the fear of the unknown. Kamal responds to islamophobia by creating common ground through religious symbols worn by Sikhs and Muslims, “turbaned Sikh men and Muslim women who wear hijab are united in the fact that it is often those who wear visible signs of religious difference on their gendered bodies that are targeted for such hateful attacks.” Her reference to the turbaned Sikh men and Muslim women in hijabs being targeted due to their visible religious symbols invites a deeper reflection on how the Western gaze often fixates on outward expressions of cultural or religious identity. In doing so, Kamal touches on the intersectionality of religion, gender, and race, pointing out that those whose religious markers are visible on their gendered bodies are often subjected to more intense scrutiny and violence.

Rana brings forth a really interesting theory, moving from race to culture to analyze the differences created in society. This "post-race" notion where race is dismissed as a biological concept, at the same time islamophobia is excluded when we discuss racism because religion is seen as a social practice, not something biologically determined. Rana suggests that the secular logic of religious beliefs and practice means that religion is treated as a personal or cultural choice rather than an inherent or biological trait. The idea of a secular perspective reduces Islam to a cultural practice, disconnecting it from racial categories and thus framing islamophobia as cultural bias. But what about perspectives that see religious differences as a natural, inherent trait? And how do we account for "anti-muslim" identity? Understanding Islamophobia as a form of racism requires acknowledging these connections, rather than relying on secular assumptions about religion as merely a cultural practice.

I want to begin by noting that both songs have a common symbolism in the lyrics, especially when discussing “skin.” From “my skin was burning,” to “I’m losing my skin,” it translates into this idea of forced assimilation and an identity crisis. The topic for today’s class, “seeing through whiteness” is apt for the phrase I’m losing my skin, which reflects this sense of being stripped away from his or her origins of culture. Our skin color and the way we dress plays such a role in western society that people of color are given no choice but to change themselves. Okay, also the food metaphor, the story begins with the white box containing baklava, which is inherently ethnic. In the entire song, we see the visuals of the pizza parlour and them consuming it. I can’t stop myself but thinking that there is a deeper meaning and a connection to why they choose to show pizzas in particular, was it like a mockery? Another phrase that caught my attention was “killing us all” which reflects the collective impact of cultural erasure, risking being overshadowed by the dominant narrative of whiteness.

James must accept white people because the uncle knows it’s truly a dead end, the history and societal complexes would never get better so he suggests, “Don’t become them, accept them.” Baldwin argues that white people are trapped in a history they don't entirely understand, which has forced them to see Black people as inferior. While some may now realize the falsehood of this belief, they fear acting on it because it threatens their identity, the very notion of “whiteness” they hold dear. This fear stems from the potential loss of their perceived superiority and control over society. For them, this challenge to the “natural order” they’ve accepted as normal creates a deep sense of insecurity. So Baldwin suggests not to fight but rather survive in this reality. His acceptance of white people is not an admission of inferiority, but rather a needed step in navigating a society built on false ideas of superiority.

The imaginative meaning of Orientalism is a “constant” (Said, 3), because it not only transpired into reality but was forced upon the raw reality. With Orientalism, the issue was not having left some remarks of the West onto the colonies but having to force through restructuring, authorizing, and pressing it on Orients. What was done by the French and British Orients was far from a soft power influence, they wanted to “whitened” our spaces in our homes. This draws a connection to the residential schools, what was done to the natives to fit into this “society” was not a choice but rather oppression. If I were explaining this to my six-year-old niece, I would give her an example of today’s world. We are currently living where cultures are imposing different realities in different spaces but without being coerced about it. If she would like a gelato or a kulfi or a purin for dessert, is her choice without having the pressure to love an apple crumble? I know this example might be dumb but she’ll get it.

I would have never known about the connection of the Black community and Indians if I hadn’t read Bald’s chapter. To answer if Blacks or Brown people could use Orientalism to their advantage would have to do with the specific cases. I think it is only possible in certain geographical spaces, Bald did a great job showing how Blacks could change their identity to get better access and Browns go about their business in a Western country. But it still lingers in my mind how the cities were not in the UK or France where it was celebratory. There was an advantage to an extent but to look at it as a whole, Orientalism has done harm more than good.

This is a great start to talk about the music video, I liked it so much that I have watched it three times by now. In my opinion, it was a masterpiece, I have never watched something like this before and the way the clips are composed is insane. The repetitive use of old movies and the lyrics is a way of showing how to own a space for brown culture in the whitened space. What does it truly take to make a home in whitened space, do we need to prove that we’re better off or we’re even better (we = east). Wait this exactly is happening in the rap culture right now, Big Dawgs by Hanumankind blew up the internet and what the artist is crafting is honestly making a home in a whitened space.