2B
Magazine Editor:
Karl Williams
Deputy Editor:
Nabeel Chollampat
Michigan In Color
Editors:
Sarah Khan
Demario Longmire
Ryan Moody
Gaby Vasquez
Design Editor:
Shane Achenbach
Photo Editor:
Zoey Holmstrom
Creative Director:
Emilie Farrugia
Editor in Chief:
Shoham Geva
Managing Editor:
Laura Schinagle
Copy Editors:
Emily Campbell
Alexis Nowicki
Jose Rosales
the statement
Wednesday, March 9, 2016 // The Statement
Dear Readers,
Since the formation of Michigan in Color
(MiC), students, faculty, staff and alumni
of color at the University of Michigan have
courageously
shared
powerful
stories,
meaningful observations, analytical cri-
tiques and inspiring art. Despite the context
of operating within a Primarily White Insti-
tution (PWI), people of color have contin-
ued to make their voices, their experiences
heard. As MiC strives to be more inclusive,
more critical and more supportive of the
marginalized voices both on campus and in
wider society, we welcomed the opportuni-
ty to collaborate with other sections of the
Michigan Daily.
The Statement and MiC are extremely
thankful for the opportunity to use our plat-
forms to provide necessary space and pro-
mote important issues and voices within the
larger University community.
Sincerely,
Michigan In Color and Statement Editors
letter from the editors
the
tangent
My Cultural Currency: Kicking Ass and Taking Names
B Y TA N YA M A D H A N I
“When you’re white,
you don’t know what
it’s like to be living in
a ghetto.”
— Sen. BERNIE SANDERS
(D-Vt.) on his racial blindspots.
“Being a white person in the USA, I know that I
have never had the experiences that many people
in this audience have had. What I have been trying
to talk about during this campaign is to urge white
people to think about what it is like to have ‘the talk’
with your kids.”
—HILLARY CLINTON on her racial blindspots.
on the
record:
debate
W
hen I was eight, I fell in love for the first time. She
was adventurous and dramatic and daring. Her
qualities were the antithesis of everything I was.
I met her at a Border’s shelf in the children’s version of the
biography section. Her name was Nellie Bly, and I’m pretty
sure she made baby Tanya the feminist I am today.
For those who may not know, Nellie Bly was an investiga-
tive journalist who became the first woman to travel around
the world — solo, I might add — in under 80 days on a hot air
balloon. The largest thing she brought on her trip was her
tub of cold cream. Nellie was also known for being a killer
investigative reporter, once going to a women’s mental insti-
tution undercover to discover the extent of horrifying abuse
toward the patients.
For Nellie, kicking ass and taking names was just a regular
Tuesday and the young, wide-eyed me was instantly enam-
ored with her.
I’d always been drawn to stories, whether it was reading,
telling, writing or listening to them. Journalism, good jour-
nalism — whatever your definition of it is — is all about tell-
ing a compelling story, and Nellie did just that. So, as soon as
I started digesting every piece of information about her life
and work, I was hit with an overwhelming fascination with
journalism as a medium for storytelling.
Now, this didn’t all happen at once in that little Border’s
biography nook; it was a gradual realization.
For the present me, however, due to a series of circum-
stances and expectations — not to mention lack of real talent
— writing professionally will not pan out as a viable career
option. Nevertheless, my love for a good story holds stead-
fast.
It’s why I still pursue writing as a hobby and why in the
11 years since I was eight, I’ve found many writers that have
captivated me and become formative to my character: Jane
Austen, J.K. Rowling and John Steinbeck to name a few.
You’ll notice that all of the writers I’ve listed in this col-
umn are white. A majority of the individuals I’ve read from
or written about, whether it is for academia or fun, have been
white writers from upper-middle-class backgrounds.
I can name the South Asian writers I know and have read
on one hand. In fact, I can do it for you right now: Jhumpa
Lahiri, Aziz Ansari, Mindy Kaling and Mira Nair. Only one
— Jhumpa Lahiri — is part of the embarrassingly few writ-
ers of colors that I’ve gotten the opportunity to read from in
school.
It bothers me that I can wax poetic about a white writer,
like I did for a majority of this column, without hesitation,
but struggled to move beyond Lahiri in naming more South
Asian writers.
There are stories about Nellie Bly going on epic adven-
tures in search of the truth for the greater good. There are
South Asian women who might have done the same, but I
sure wouldn’t have found them in the biography section
of the Border’s store. It’s not because they didn’t exist, but
because they weren’t deemed important enough to be recog-
nized and cemented in history.
Yes, Nellie Bly was a powerful and independent woman.
Undoubtedly, she was a great person to look up to and admire
for a timid young girl like me, but I can’t help but wonder
what kind of an impact it would have made on me if Nellie
had been brown.
Maybe I would have pursued writing as a career if I had
seen a brown girl do it. I’d have realized that saving the
world and flying on hot air balloons across the globe were
adventures I could take too.
But still, maybe not. The point is, I’ll never find out, will I?
Somewhere out there is a young Desi girl who’s perusing
through the aisles of an independent bookstore, a library or
a Barnes & Noble. A young girl with actual talent for writing
and the tenacity to go on epic adventures around the world.
She deserves to find someone to read about and read from
who looks like her, just so that girl can realize that she can
kick ass and take names too.
ILLUSTRATION BY SAMUEL BERTIN