The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Monday, April 16, 2018 — 3A
Aishu
Chandrakanthan
is
a junior at the University of
Michigan studying business and
psychology with a minor in digital
studies. On campus, she is involved
with United Asian American
Organizations, Indian American
Student Association, Yoni Ki Baat
and the Michigan Fashion Media
Summit. She can be contacted at
caishu@umich.edu.
THE MICHIGAN DAILY: Tell
me a little about you and your
family.
CHANDRAKANTHAN: I’ve
always struggled to understand
how to express who I am. I’m Sri
Lankan, but I’m Tamil — which
is not the ethnic majority in Sri
Lanka. I’m a Canadian citizen
and most of my family lives in
Canada, but I’ve lived in America
for most of my life. Because of
this, I’ve struggled with not really
fitting in anywhere.
I don’t feel truly like a Sri
Lankan
Tamil-Canadian
sometimes because I didn’t have
the same experience as those
who are Sri Lankan Tamil in
Canada. I didn’t grow up going to
Tamil school or weddings every
weekend, in between classical
singing classes with Sri Lankan
friends whose parents went to the
same high school as mine.
And even though I grew up
exposed to Indian-Tamil culture,
because of my “Amma’s” love for
India and since my family owns
an Indian grocery store; I never
fit in with Indian Tamils because
I don’t have the Indian-Tamil
dialect, so it made it hard to
communicate my thoughts.
When I’m in the United
States, I don’t always feel like I
fit in because I’m not particularly
familiar with American pop
culture and politics. I didn’t
listen to English music until I was
12-years-old and I rarely watched
Hollywood films.
Despite this confusion and
struggle to find my identity, I like
that there is some mystery around
who I am.
My family came to Canada as
refugees because of the civil war
in Sri Lanka. My “Appa” left when
he was 17 for Germany, but he
later came to Canada as a refugee
in order to find a better life for
himself and the rest of his family.
My Amma had also escaped Sri
Lanka when she was 16-years-old
to live in India.
My Appa passed away ten
years ago, so my Amma has been
wary of taking my brother and me
back to Sri Lanka alone because
she doesn’t consider it safe. While
my Appa was able to escape most
of the horrors of the war, my
Amma actually got caught in the
crossfire.
Back then, in Sri Lanka, a
Tamil liberation group called the
Tamil Tigers started a separatist
movement
to
create
Tamil
Eelam, a country just for the
Tamil ethnic group. They often
used violent tactics to get their
messages across. During one of
her visits back to Sri Lanka during
her school break, Amma and my
“Ammama” had gotten badly
injured from a bomb blast. That
night left most of my Ammama’s
arm severely injured, wounds
on my Amma’s leg and severe
PTSD that has left them both
traumatized for the rest of their
lives.
The Tamil Tigers also sent
a suicide bomber to India to
assassinate then Prime Minister
Rajiv Gandhi. After that, many
restrictions were imposed on Sri
Lankan Tamil refugees in India.
My Amma was affected by that
— she couldn’t get the education
she wanted because the Indian
government only allowed Sri
Lankan Tamils to study certain
subjects.
I feel like my Amma always
associated being Sri Lankan with
being unable to achieve her life’s
goals. She really embraces Indian
culture and considers it her
home, while my Appa was very
Sri Lankan. I always wondered
why she was so against her
own country, but then I learned
to understand why it was so
different for her. Sri Lanka was
so shaped by war that, for her,
the experiences of getting hurt
and having limited freedom made
it easier for her to just distance
herself from her country. She
always talks about how beautiful
Sri Lanka was and how the war
ruined everything.
TMD: Has having a Sri Lankan
Tamil identity distanced you
from the larger South Asian
community on campus?
CHANDRAKANTHAN:
I
think I’m lucky. Because my
family has owned an Indian
grocery store for twelve years,
growing up, I was able to
immerse myself in the Indian
culture and community. I grew
up watching movies in different
Indian languages such as Telugu
and Malayalam, so I used this as
a way to connect with my peers
in the Indian American Student
Association (IASA) community.
However, I still never felt like I
fit in.
Even when it comes to Tamil
people in IASA, I still feel that we
have very different backgrounds.
Their parents didn’t grow up in
Sri Lanka, experience a war and
aren’t refugees. A lot of people
don’t know what happened in Sri
Lanka, so they don’t understand
the struggles that my parents
experienced while coming to this
country.
In the past year, I’ve realized
that a lot of my South Asian
friends have parents who could
get the education and careers
they wanted. My Amma wasn’t
able to do that. Her Sri Lankan
identity
prevented
her
from
studying what she wanted.
A lot of South Asian people
don’t realize that Sri Lankan
Tamils
had
to
go
through
different obstacles to achieve the
same level of success as other
South Asians. My family members
had to go through extreme and
nontraditional methods to end
up in this country, away from the
war raging at home.
TMD: What weight does your
identity as a Sri Lankan Tamil and
Asian/Pacific Islander American
(A/PIA) hold for you?
CHANDRAKANTHAN:
I
don’t feel that I am able to fully
identify as an A/PIA, because
the term seems to suggest very
specific experiences — ones that
tend to exclude South Asians. A
lot of the A/PIA spaces on campus
are more representative of East
Asians and it’s often hard to find
other Brown people, nonetheless
Sri Lankan Tamils.
However, the A/PIA community
on campus has also been one of the
most accepting communities I’ve
been a part of. Even though there
aren’t many Sri Lankan Tamils, I
feel that I have been able to bond
with others in the community who
similarly may have felt like they
had difficulty finding communities
throughout their lives. I’m excited
for the next year, because I look
forward to being more involved in
organizations such as Uncover: A/
PIA and UAAO where I can hear
other people’s stories and share my
own.
TMD: Has your conception of
your identity as an A/PIA shifted
over the course of your life?
CHANDRAKANTHAN:
In
high school, I was surrounded by
a very different group of people.
Though there was a huge South
Asian community in Novi, I wasn’t
super involved in it. I had South
Asian friends, but my closest friend
group consisted of my Taiwanese,
Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese
and Korean friends. However,
I still felt out of place because I
felt like they all had their own
communities.
Combating the Monolith: IV
When
Drew
Metcalf,
an
LSA
junior
studying
screen
arts and culture, submitted his
project proposal to optiMize’s
Social
Innovation
Challenge,
he had no idea he would end up
forming a creative expression
showcase that would impact
more than 150 students. With
a strong passion for creativity
and art, Metcalf has a natural
drive for building community,
cultural
understanding
and
confidence — all through the
power of expression. With his
new organization, Creatives of
Color, Metcalf is using art to
revolutionize how students of
color come together.
The purpose of Creatives of
Color is to foster connections
among
artists
of
color
by
providing
opportunities
for
collaboration, expression and
networking.
Its
platform
is
centered
around
providing
support and resources to give
students
the
freedom
and
means to pursue their creative
initiatives.
Metcalf got his start from
optiMize, a social innovation
organization
dedicated
to
inspiring students to initiate
self-driven products to work
toward a more sustainable world.
Through
optiMize,
Metcalf
received
mentor
support,
visioning workshops and an
expansive network to help him
make his mission a tangible
reality. To formally introduce
his organization, Metcalf held a
creative showcase April 11.
The showcase featured an
expansive range of art, such as
photography, animation, singing,
dance and poetry. It featured
projects from 25 participants
of varying cultures, ages and
majors, adding to the diverse
makeup of projects presented.
In
preparation
for
the
showcase,
Metcalf
said
he
and his team randomly paired
students together as he wanted
to explore the creative capacity
that could come from strangers.
Metcalf and his team provided
guidance
and
assistance
to
student
teams.
He
hoped
students would feel encouraged
and confident enough to pursue
creative means not traditionally
explored.
“We wanted to showcase all
kinds of art. When people think
of creative work, they jump to
music, poetry and dance. But, we
also have committees for other
written art, like journalism and
creative writing,” he said.
Though the showcase received
an immensely positive response,
it did not occur without setbacks
and moments of discouragement.
As the term went on, more and
more groups dropped out due
to academic demands and other
time restraints.
However,
Metcalf
stayed
optimistic,
commenting
even
if two people showed up to the
showcase, as long as everyone
had fun, the work would not go
to waste.
“There were a couple of times
that I wanted to throw in the
towel … But my team kept me
grounded,” he said.
Drew’s project was received so
well that it solidified additional
funding, which will allow the
organization to continue active
development over the summer.
His summer project will consist
of building the social network
of professional and aspiring
creatives, striving to bridge the
gap between access to resources
and mentors.
With
this
amount
of
momentum, it is clear that
Creatives of Color has a bright
and
eventful
future
ahead.
Future plans include creative
workshops,
collaborations,
exhibitions and youth outreach.
As the organization is still in
its infancy, the possibilities are
wide open, and Metcalf is ready
to take them head-on.
“The cool thing about (this
project)
is
that
there’s
so
much room for creativity and
innovation. There are so many
things we can we can do with
this organization, and the ideas
keep coming. I’m interested to
see what comes of it,” he said
while smiling.
Anyone interested in getting
involved with Creatives of Color
can join their Maizepage group,
contact the group directly at
thecreativesofcolor@gmail.
com or fill out their EBoard
application.
PRIYA JUDGE
MiC Assistant Editor
Art as a creative revolution
NA’KIA CHANNEY
MiC Senior Editor
Every morning, I find myself
walking to class listening to my
favorite songs, watching squirrels
as they finesse food from passersby
and moving around white people
walking in my direction on the
sidewalks. Before I noticed this
disturbing pattern of mine, I
always thought that stepping
out of the way for oncoming
pedestrians was just the polite
thing to do. However, I recently
noticed that the oncoming traffic,
specifically when the person was
white, would never return the
common courtesy of stepping
to the side when I walked by. I
began to ask myself questions and
wonder if I was carrying out the
same subconscious behavior with
people of other races. So, I decided
to experiment a bit. Whenever a
person of color walked by, I made
space — while carefully watching
if they would do the same. I tried
doing this with people of color in
large groups, small groups and
by themselves. Each occurrence
led to the same outcome: mutual
respect for sidewalk space. This
data then led me to the belief that
this was a natural behavior of only
white people, notably among white
women.
After coming to such conclusion,
I decided to try something even
riskier: not move at all when
white people passed by. I thought
perhaps the confidence of a large,
stocky Black woman standing her
ground would make a difference
and would be a call for change.
But hell, was I wrong. Instead of
change, I got shoulder bumped and
glared at, commonly followed by
snarky remarks such as, “Watch
where you’re going,” “Wow that
was rude” or “I can’t believe she
just did that.” Of them all, it was
the repetitive comment of “I
can’t believe she just did THAT.”
Confused on what “that” was
referring to.
As I continued my investigation
of this behavior, I became aware
of some not-so-surprising history
of racial tensions and practices
of white supremacy. I was in
Associate
Professor
Stephen
Berrey’s American South course
when he started the lecture by
talking about the more blatant and
explicit forms of Jim Crow and
racial superiority. He then clicked
on a slide informing the class about
more subtle practices in Southern
states. He went on to state that
“the expectation that Black people
would step off the sidewalk for
approaching white people was a
common custom across the South
that had extended back into the
days of slavery (in which enslaved
people were expected to step off).
The incident (that exemplifies this
was) in Danville, Va., in 1883 during
an election year in which many
white people were alarmed over
growing Black political power and
fears that Black people considered
themselves the social equal of
white people — as evidenced by the
refusal to perform expected roles.”
And many decades later, during
the Jim Crow era, Black people
continued to step off the sidewalk
when a white person were to walk
in their direction. Otherwise as
noted previously, if a Black person
failed to do so, they were acting
as defiant, uppity and downright
disrespectful. Now it all makes
sense.
This
demonstration
of
subservience during such a simple
thing like walking on the sidewalk
was not and is not my fault. Instead,
it is deep-rooted racism and white
supremacy among white people
that led me to feel inferior, just as
my ancestors felt during the Jim
Crow era, and much earlier.
But wait — there’s more.
I didn’t just notice this flat-out
disrespect and sense of superiority
on the University of Michigan’s
campus.
I’ve experienced it in the halls
of high schools, where younger
white students would do the same
thing. I’ve experienced it walking
downtown Detroit, a place where
many white people dramatically
state that they are afraid to go, yet
there they are, subtly enforcing
white supremacy. I’ve experienced
it in grocery stores, malls and just
about anywhere you could think of.
But now, I don’t move. I don’t
budge. I don’t care. I don’t care
whose shoulder I bump into,
whose avocado matcha smoothie
I spill or whose day I ruin. Why?
Because every day that this
continues to happen to other
students, especially Black students,
the more embedded and unnoticed
it becomes, and the further it goes.
So now when you see me walking
and I don’t move, do not think it is
because I am just another stuck up
Black girl with an attitude, know
it’s because I’m sick and tired and a
change is bound to come. One step
at a time.
CHARDE MADOULA-BEY
MiC Contributor
Fighting white supremacy
Today, I had the honor of
receiving
the
Wendy
Owen
Scholarship from The Michigan
Daily. This particular scholarship
is given to freshmen, sophomores
and juniors at The Daily who
have constructively contributed
to the paper. It was created in
memorial of Wendy Owen, a
Daily staff member from 1949 to
1951. As one of the few freshmen
at the Scholarship Celebration, as
well as one of the only students of
color, it was really empowering
to receive a Daily scholarship.
The whole celebration was
extremely moving — listening to
various Michigan Daily alumni
and donors speak upon their
experiences,
memories
and
lessons learned at the newspaper.
It was also really inspiring to
see all of my peers who also
received scholarships and to hear
about all of the amazing things
they’ve done at The Daily and the
ways they’ve managed to keep
journalism in their lives despite
their various other academic
endeavors.
The whole time I was at the
celebration, though, the one
thing that kept occurring to me
was how little representation
of people of color there was.
Throughout
my
semester
at
The Daily, I was quickly able
to observe how little racial
diversity
there
was
outside
Michigan in Color. Though it
was disheartening at first, I was
able to forget about it because
of the strong and supportive
community I adopted through
Michigan in Color.
But when I was at the
Scholarship Celebration, I was
able to see not only is the current
makeup of The Daily largely
white, but also was the makeup
of previous Daily staffs — it was
even more so than it is today.
Almost all of the donors and
alumni who came to speak were
white, which made me realize
even though The Daily has made
positive steps in becoming a
more diverse work environment
as well as newspaper, it still
has a long way to go. In The
Michigan Daily, I often feel as if
MiC is thought as a solution to
the newspaper’s lack of diversity,
but it’s more of just a bandage to
cover up a bigger problem.
In an ideal world, The Daily
shouldn’t need a “people of
color”
section.
The
Daily
would be diverse enough that
people of color could feel heard
without having to look to only
one section. I know that making
The Daily I want to see will take
baby steps, but I’m just hoping
that someday The Daily is able to
have the Scholarship Celebration
and have just as many successful
people of color alumni as there
are white people who come back
to talk about their experiences
at The Daily and how they were
able to take those experiences
into the world.
EFE OSAGIE
MiC Assistant Editor
Now: Diversity and The Daily
ROSEANNE CHAO/Daily
Read more online at
michigandaily.com