We’ve all heard it before, its tough being brown/yellow/olive/black in the nooks and crannies of America, but I will repeat this first-gen immi (my nickname for immigrants) refrain!
*sigh*
It was tough growing up in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn as one of the first Asians (not Asian families since my family could pass as White or as AmerIndian depending on which side of the Eur-Asian the gene pool favored when it came to our face — and my face came out all yellow olive skin and jet black hair). I was the first in line and until Linda Tam happily rescued me, and stood in line in front of me, in second grade. I remember the “ching chong” jokes and the buck teeth gestures. Things I did not understand until one day, Mrs Teacher made me stand in front of class and pointed to me and said, “Zohra is oriental and I will not tolerate anyone making fun of orientals in my classroom!” Thanks, I thought, I think… for some reason that word, even at that age had an odd feel when it was used. But I didn’t know where I was from myself to be able to correct it (I also did not know enough English to counter anyone at that point).
Fast forward to age 19. I am at my first student protest and we are angry at tuition hikes, fare hikes, and whatever other hikes Guiliani was proposing at the time. I was called “oriental” again. This time all the rage I channeled into activism surfaced and I yelled for this well-meaning woman to never call me an “oriental”. A Korean American project coordinator chimed in “Yeah, don’t you know that’s just wrong lady!” We were so self-righteous that we could even be bothered with the rest of what she had to say. Calling us oriental shut down our ability to communicate with her. It created a rift between us even if our cause was the same. We bullied this lady back into a corner. Then afterwards, I remember both of us “don’t call us orientals” drinking coffee and wondering why exactly we were offended by the term when Asian was just as vague and nondescript as the term Oriental.
Well, it wasn’t until much later that I learned from the Asian American Sociologist, Setsuko Nishi, (who had been put into the Japanese American internment camps during WWII) that using the term Oriental meant that we would be forever foreign. There is no hyphenation to express the American side. It was also offensive because of the history that had permeated that term and how vague it was — everyone from North Africa to the Pacific Islands were considered “oriental”. Although, I suppose oriental is better than the police officer forms my friend filled out that asked if she was: Mongoloid, Negroid or Caucasoid. She was confused since she was Pakistani American!
September 8, 2009, Governor Paterson banned the use of the term “Oriental” when it came to describing Asian Americans.
The term “Oriental” is widely considered to be a disparaging term, but has been used in some forms and preprinted documents issued by state government and municipalities.
Hell yeah, it’s a disparaging term! Finally, I don’t have to write anymore polite (but cold) emails to colleagues who think that saying Oriental meant East Asians and Asian meant browner Asians. Finally, I can stop hissing, “Oriental is for carpets!” And I can stop cramming Edward Said’s seminal work, Orientalism, down my students’ throats each year in my obsession with terms, respect terms in addressing the brown, the yellow, the olive and the angry! (Well, no, I won’t stop cramming Said down my students’ throats!)
Finally, a legal recognition to ban an obsolete word that shut down communication between some very well-meaning people. Thanks Governor Paterson!



Pedagogy 4.3, 2004) suggests a variety of strategies that are illustrated with cartoons: picking a fight, ass kissing, piggybacking, leapfrogging, playing peacemaker, acting paranoid, dropping out, and crossbreeding. I found that the drawing exercise indeed helped me relieve my anxiety dealing with sources, so I am thinking of using it as an office-hour exercise for my students. It might also be helpful for those of us who are writing a dissertation and having a hard time handling source materials, oftentimes feeling overwhelmed and frustrated. I knew drawing was often used in therapy, but I’d never realized its power before I had the exercise in the workshop.





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