I have understood the power
of words since a young age. I
distinctly recall the first time I
published a piece at age 13, and
the apprehension with which
I described my sentiments as
a
bi-ethnic
second-generation
Tibetan in exile.
Since then, I have approached
writing with extreme caution.
As with many Tibetans in the
diaspora,
speaking
publicly
about my identity has significant
ramifications. By writing these
words, however, I recognize I
have great privilege in being able
to share my experiences — such a
luxury is not an option for many
Tibetans in exile. Despite this, I
have hesitated on many occasions
to approach platforms such as
Michigan in Color. I did not have
the confidence to express the acute
sense of loss, generational trauma
and injustice that is so familiar to
those who hold identities that are
viscerally under attack.
Throughout
the
past
year,
engaging in activism on campus
has been both encouraging and
painful for me. Though I have
found great support and inspiration
in my peers, my resolve to approach
MiC
was
strengthened
by
witnessing the active silencing of
narratives such as mine within the
Asian/Pacific Islander-American
communities on campus. In these
spaces — ones that claim to be
inclusive of all A/PIAs — I have
observed indifference, hesitation
and
outright
hostility
toward
discussing histories and identities
that are deemed too “divisive,”
“political” and “inconvenient.” The
greatest irony in this suppression is
that these spaces were never meant
to be comfortable.
Histories
of
oppression
are not easy to acknowledge,
particularly by those who inflict
structural violence. But comfort,
as history tells it, preserves the
status quo. Comfort reinforces
the mechanisms of subjugation.
And there is a pressing need to
recognize this, particularly in
spaces that claim to be proponents
of social justice.
In my time on campus, MiC has
been an outlet through which I have
engaged with narratives that have
made me deeply uncomfortable
with systemic norms, institutional
silencing and my own complicity.
As a staff member, I hope to
navigate this space with intention
and conscience as a proud Tibetan/
Indian-American, even as forces
beyond me invalidate my Tibetan
identity and discount me on
the basis of my bi-ethnicity. To
some degree, I write these words
knowing that I am subjecting
myself to the scrutiny of institutions
that are antagonized by my very
existence and willingness to assert
the validity of my experiences.
Yet, everything that I write
is from my lived experience. I
encourage those — even individuals
who do not have the privilege of a
public platform — to speak their
truths and stand behind their
realities. That is why I mobilize
myself and my words, and it is
because of these hopes that I have
joined MiC.
The very first occupation I
was interested in becoming was a
police officer; whenever one was
around, I could not take my eyes
off of their gleaming badges. For
an assignment in school during
kindergarten, I was asked what I
wanted to be when I grow up and
why. I wrote: “A police officer so
I can arrest people.” My family
found it humorous, but when I
think back to the assignment now,
all I feel is shame.
This feeling began after the
Trayvon Martin shooting of 2012.
The Black community was furious;
surely this was not the first time a
white person had unfairly shot and
killed a Black male. However, this
was the final straw. I remember
the climate so vividly, the utter
disgust. The unrest was palpable.
During the following years, there
was a sharp increase in the number
of deaths in the Black community
at the hands of white cops, all
while on camera.
Whether it was because I was
paying more attention or because
times had truly become much
worse, the bloodshed seemed to
multiply out of nowhere, and now
as a young Black teenage male, I
became more and more afraid with
every newscast. Turning off the
TV didn’t fix the problem; my life
at home was beginning to fall apart
as well. In 2011, my parents had
filed for divorce, and since then
my parents have both moved from
our home in Detroit to Southfield
(where they “consequently” found
apartment buildings across the
street from one another).
As part of the move, I was also
forced to start sixth grade in a
new school. In an attempt to make
friends I became swept up in
staying up-to-date with the most
current music. I dove headfirst
into the pop music of 2010, and
what I gravitated to most was hip-
hop. It allowed me to look at people
who looked like me and hear them
talking about things I too had
experienced. I saw the beauty
behind rap through Frank Ocean,
as well as its anger and passion
concerning issues of the Black
man in America when listening to
artists such as J. Cole and Kendrick
Lamar. A few friends suggested I
try writing myself, and ever since,
I have been documenting my
feelings in the form of raps, poems,
essays and the occasional angrily
scribbled rant.
I joined Michigan in Color
because I believe my voice speaks
for not only myself but everyone
who is able to share my thoughts,
emotions and experiences. Being a
person of color at a predominantly
white institution in 2018 is a
journey, one full of pleasant
surprises as well as shocking
disappointment. When I write for
MiC, I want everyone reading to
feel as if we are on this journey
together.
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Monday, January 8, 2018— 3A
I’ve always loved storytelling
and I’m always searching for new
ways to tell stories. I love singing,
performing,
art,
music
and,
most relevantly, writing. Since
I’ve started college, I’ve added
some new passions to my list.
I’ve started to write poetry as a
way to express my thoughts and
feelings. I’ve also expanded the
genres of stories I read to include
plays, articles and magazines.
When I discovered Michigan
in Color, I was quickly able to
add it to my list of passions. The
concept of MiC was completely
foreign to me, but I immediately
fell in love with it — a section in
a newspaper dedicated solely
to people of color to share their
experiences
and
identities.
Though I’ve always enjoyed
writing, my identity as a person
of color has never been the topic
of my writing, or something I’ve
even considered writing about.
My
identity
has
always
been something with which
I’ve struggled. Growing up in
a mostly homogenous society,
I’ve had trouble feeling like I
fit in. In high school, because
almost everyone around me was
white, my main goal was to just
blend in. I never brought up my
Nigerian heritage, my identity as
a black person, my Muslim and
Christian religious backgrounds,
because I was trying my hardest
to make sure everyone forgot
them (secretly with the hopes
that I would too).
But since I’ve come to college,
I’ve begun to see my identity,
especially as a person of color,
as something of which to be
proud. I’ve met so many people
that have helped me realize my
different identities are things
to uphold instead of hiding.
What I love about Michigan
in Color is its ability to elevate
people of the identities they are
typically shamed for. I love how
it’s a space for people to be open
and vulnerable, to share the
hardships and triumphs they face
as a person of color for people to
resonate with and learn from.
I still have a long way to go in
embracing who I am, but I know
Michigan in Color is definitely a
step in the right direction. And
not only is it an opportunity to
help me accept my identities, it’s
a privilege. I have been given the
privilege to help others embrace
their
own
identities
while
educating others about these
identities at the same time. I’m so
lucky to be given this privilege,
and as an assistant editor, I will
make sure it never goes to waste.
Growing up, I always loved
to read. Some of my fondest
childhood
memories
include
going to the library with my
mom to pick out books, and then
reading them together. As I got
older, I developed a passion for
writing as well, finding my voice
and feeling the true power the
written word can hold. I enjoyed
writing in my English classes, and
I also wrote and continue to write
in a journal as an outlet for my
frustrations and emotions. I have
never really considered sharing
any of my writing, as I was never
confident enough and never really
felt like I had something very
important or progressive to say.
Stumbling upon this opportunity
has opened my eyes to what could
be, and I intend to make the most
of it as I navigate my way through
college as an Arab-American,
Muslim woman.
Coming to the University from
my predominantly Arab/Muslim
city of Dearborn has been an
awakening experience. I have
been challenged and changed
in ways I would never have
thought of before. Throughout
my first semester, I have met so
many amazing, passionate and
inspiring people, and learned
their stories. I have encountered
issues that have instilled me with
anger, moved me with passion
and inspired me to become an
active part of the stories around
me. Being a part of the Michigan
Community Scholars Program
and the Arab Student Association
has helped me get to know people
with
different
backgrounds
while simultaneously connecting
with those of similar social
identities. The constant, ever-
changing climate of social issues
and problems that need to be
addressed compel me to try and
find ways to make an impact, big
or small.
I enter MiC as an assistant
editor with high hopes. Hopes of
speaking my truths and becoming
more confident in doing so.
Hopes of learning the stories and
struggles of other brave and bright
students of color, all with unique
experiences and stories waiting
to be heard. Hopes of helping
to create and maintain the fun,
serious, loving space so fondly
described by previous and current
MiC members. Hopes of building
meaningful friendships with the
wonderful fellow editors. Words
hold power, words have weight,
words can teach and connect
and inspire and heal. I hope to
do my part in a space that allows
the words of people of color to be
heard because our stories arereal,
valid and important.
Growing up, Nick at Nite was
somewhat of childhood pastime
as shows like “George Lopez,”
“The
Nanny”
and
“Family
Matters” were the focus of my
attention. I found particular
fondness in “Family Matters”
because of Steve Urkel’s famous
tagline, “Did I do that?” Though
Steve Urkel was great, it was
the sentimental moments that
also caught my attention. In one
of the episodes, Laura wanted
to buy a VCR, so she sold her
grandmother’s quilt. Later, she
finds out the quilt was in the
family for over 200 years.
Slowly I came to idolize
minorities in the mainstream
media.
Shows
like
“Family
Matters” proved there was a
market for loving a non-white
history.
However,
it
never
seemed like Arab history was
profitable enough to make the
cut. Though my family went
to the Middle East for months
every summer, I identified as
American. Thus, I quickly heard
terms like “whitewashed” as I
joined the Boy Scouts and other
typical “American” pastimes.
Meanwhile, I was never white,
so I still faced problems with
being a person of color. Growing
up, I felt that being Arab or
American were two mutually
exclusive concepts because we
act like they are.
That is what lead me to
Michigan in Color. The Arab
culture
that
I
have
been
surrounded by my entire life is
important to me, and I wanted
to
express
its
significance
while helping others do the
same. This is my first step to
creating my own quilt which I
lost many years ago, or maybe
it’s finding the blanket I never
knew existed. For me, I may
not be actively involved in the
Arab community, but I am still
Arab and American. Every day,
I used to watch Nick at Nite and
see people of varied skin tones,
but none of those skin tones
were mine. Even today, I don’t
think I have any Arab-American
idols that are represented in
media. It’s easy to sell your
culture in exchange for a job,
to buy that fancy VCR or social
acceptance. However, it starts
with me to pick up the thread
and create something that can
last 200 years. Someday, I just
hope to look back at my amazing
work with Michigan in Color
and think, “Did I do that?” It’s
questions like those that keep me
trying to prove my lineage does
not cancel the program of my
future. My activities shouldn’t
disconnect me from my original
storyline.
Why I joined MiC: Efe Osagie
Why I joined MiC: Priya Judge
Why I joined MiC: Angelo McCoy
Why I joined MiC: Maya Mokh
Why I joined MiC: Kareem Shunnar
EFE OSAGIE
MiC Assistant Editor
MAYA MOKH
MiC Assistant Editor
KAREEM SHUNNAR
MiC Assistant Editor
PRIYA JUDGE
MiC Assistant Editor
ANGELO MCCOY
MiC Assistant Editor