Hybrid Identities; Silenced Selves

            Growing up in a country that was not my own, as I tried to adopt behaviors in order to fit in socially in school and in college, I often felt as though I was abandoning traits that were essential to who I was. In her memoir, Rigoberta Menchú talks about being a Quiché woman but not representing all factors of that identity as a result of having learned Spanish. John Edgar Wideman echoed similar sentiments in saying that the higher he moved on the social ladder, the more alienated he felt from his home, family and more specifically his brother. What is the price that those from marginalized groups must pay when attempting to achieve social mobility by adapting to the dominant culture? Which aspects of their culture and identity are silenced as they choose to highlight or give voice to other versions of the self? How are these people viewed not only by the dominant culture but also by their home culture? I often fear being called a traitor by my family and I hide my accomplishments from them to avoid being seen as “the other.” In comparing the experiences of Rigoberta Mechú and John Edgar Wideman to my own, is it worth the risk to loose a part of the self in order to help our communities and ourselves?

Here is the video I made to act as my webpaper. Enjoy! 

“[S]ound… carries a lot of social status and/or currency.” (Kim 1)

Sound as social currency. When I think about this term, I immediately think of sound as a physical form that can be used in exchange for something else. What exactly can I buy with sound? Can I buy silence? Power? Status? In what ways must I use sound to obtain these ‘products?’…what do I do with them once they are mine?  I am having trouble understanding sound as social currency. Although, I understand what I can buy, at least I think  I do, I am not exactly sure how sound can be used to actually buy something. It could be that I am taking the term too literally; but, as someone who possesses and has mastered sound, there is no denying that I use sound as social currency to navigate, negotiate and understand the world around me.

As mentioned in my first two web events, in my cultural background, sound and silence represented the power dynamics within my culture and home. More specifically, sound was used as a “form of authority” (Sun 1). When my parents spoke firm, unwavering, one-syllable sounds, I knew my place as a young person. I also knew that my silence, although enforced on me, was a sign of respect and my expected role. I had learned early on that sound shaped the cultural norms in my household, while my silence, and that of my siblings, upheld them.

I found this floating around on facebook this morning. It's awesome.

wind map

ABOUT THE CHARACTERS

Drake is a single father who owns a bodega near by his home. He has an 18 year-old daughter, Nikki, who considers herself to be an artist – a street artist to be more specific. Although Nikki spends hours drawing, painting and sketching in her room, she also goes out late at night with a group of friends to perform street art. Drake already sees art as just a hobby rather than something that can be turned into a good career, nevertheless does he condemn street art and finds it to be “dirty” and a problem for the city. Although Drake is aware that his daughter loves art, he is not aware that she performs street art; he just thinks that she does murals in schools, and paints for fun and because it is her passion.

SCENE 1

On a Friday night, Nikki gets into a huge argument with her father over her boyfriend (which her father disapproves of). After the argument, Nikki decided she wanted to rebel so she went to her fathers store and painted one of her signature design.

It is Saturday morning and Drake and Nikki arrive at the bodega.

D Son of a B*!

Nikki comes running outside

Life has been very complicated lately, very exhausting, very full. I was in two minds whether to change my sit-site, or not: I am not tired of the labyrinth, still want to return there; and at the same time I crave somewhere a bit wilder, more varied in its inhabitants. I was thinking about Morris Woods, or even maybe somewhere on the Haverford campus, nearer where I live. In the end I think the natural course of my life has decided for me. I was wanting a walk this afternoon, called one of our helpers to come and stay with my mom, and set out on my usual route around the Nature Walk (what we used to call it when I was a kid) which encircles the Haverford campus. Today it was a walk rather than a sit. Haverford has more wild space, is overall a bit wilder than Bryn Mawr. I love going through the woods - even though there are almost always lots of runners and walkers, some with dogs or babies, using the path, in that way less wild actually than Morris Woods at Bryn Mawr. Then I come out at the Duck Pond, larger and older than Bryn Mawr's duckpond: we used to skate on it in the wintertime, 50 or more years ago. There is often a heron fishing here, as well as the entertaining societies of ducks and Canada geese. My future sit spot will be at the far side of the duck pond, among silver maples and larch trees, a favorite place to stop and meditate, and dream myself into the depths of the pond, which seems like a gateway to Mother Earth herself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqV7HOVOPLE&feature=related

Watching Prisons: Intersections of Reality and Fantasy