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