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August 02, 2018 - Image 9

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The Michigan Daily

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9

Thursday August 2, 2018
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
MICHIGAN IN COLOR

Playing more than a “Black Woman”

So, I’ve been doing a lot of
writing lately… Whenever
my life gets real messy or
whatever, I turn to writing
to kind of just detach
from
everything
that’s
happening
all
around
me. It’s like this super
cathartic
practice
I’ve
taken up over the years
to decompress and flush a
bunch of things from my
head all at once. I’m never
as well-spoken as I’d like to
be in person. Like … okay,
honestly? I’m literally the
furthest
possible
thing
from well-spoken, but it’s
for this exact reason that
I’ve come to write as much
as I do. Outside the realm
of academics, my writing
doesn’t have to follow any
specific form or tone. I can
be as formal or as casual
as I’d like to be, as flowery
or as vulgar as is needed
of me. I really end up just
writing about anything,
honestly.
The other day I was on
the phone with my mom
and I asked her about
the meaning of my name:
Vinh
Khang
Huynh.
Vinh means “eternal” or
“infinite,” while Khang
means
“health”
and
“prosperity.” Huynh just
represents a family name
distantly linked to royalty.
I wrote about my own
name for damn near an
hour before I remembered
that I had a life outside of
writing I had to care for. I
just really liked thinking
about the concept of some
infinitely bountiful sense
of well-being marked by
the subtleties of royalty
being carried on through
my own name. Writing
plummets me down deeper
and deeper into this rabbit
hole of self-reflection. I’ve
come to learn that asking
myself why I am the way
that I am and why I do the
things that I do is the most
surefire
means
toward
both
understanding
myself and learning to do
the same for others. The

two questions that’ve had
me parading about in my
feels the most have been:
“Why do I choose to write
so much?” and “What
exactly do I gain from of
all of it?”
So, throwback to my
first day of sophomore
year of high school. I find
the classroom where my
first-period English class
is being taught and go to
grab a seat toward the
back, next to the wall.
Eventually, a woman walks
in, introduces herself as
Ms. Brush and welcomes
us all to her English class.
I guess she really wasn’t
trying to shoot the shit
that morning, given that
she just skipped right
past the whole icebreaker
and
syllabus-recitation
tradition and had us all
pull out pieces of paper.
Our assignment for that
first morning of class was
to write a letter addressed
to anyone, living or dead,
about any possible topic
under the sun. I wrote my
letter to a friend of mine,
knowing full well that he
would never read it since
I obviously had to turn
it in at the end of class. I
gave myself the freedom
to write about every little
thing on my mind, so much
so that I forgot that it was
an actual assignment.
The next day in class,
Brush sat at the front of
the room and called our
names out one by one
as she handed back our
letters. I don’t remember
exactly what she told me,
but I remember that she
complimented me both
on how my voice shined
through the letter as well
as my choice in expletives.
I walked up to the room to
grab my letter, flustered
and embarrassed as all
hell. I was never the type
of student to be noticed for
anything in class, so it felt
strange to be recognized
for something like my
voice by someone I had
just met the day before.
As the term rolled on, we
would be asked to submit

these mini-reports on the
stuff we were supposed to
be reading for class. To be
honest, I never actually …
well … read the books or
anything. I just went on
to SparkNotes and half-
assed the assignment. In
addition to these reports,
we
were
also
given
the option to include a
feedback portion at the
end where we could write
about our own thoughts
and opinions on the book.
The
scammer
residing
inside
my
very
soul
obviously took the easy
way out by forming the
bulk of those book reports
around what I thought
of the books themselves
since I obviously wasn’t
going
to
provide
any
sort of detailed literary
analysis or anything. To
my surprise, Brush would
leave a lot of her own
feedback on the backs of
my essays in addition to
detailed critiques on my
grammar and sentence
structure. She offered me
a lot of encouragement in
these critiques too. She
always told me to keep
writing because there was
something different and
unique about my voice.
I would later find out
from friends that she was
wondering what she could
do to break me out of my
shell and make me feel
more comfortable with
speaking out more, either
in class or to her directly.
See, the thing you
really
gotta
know
about Brush is that she
understood people, often
times without them even
having to say a word. On
top of all of that, she was
explosive. Like an entire
canister of Fourth of July
fireworks going off all at
once. She cursed like a
sailor, but always made
sure to blow her F-bombs
away from the presence of
administration...

Read more online at
michigandaily.com

This is probably my
third article on the lack
of
representation
and
positive representation of
Black people in the world,
but that just shows how
much farther we have to
go in our society to reach
equal Black representation.
Last weekend I had the
opportunity to see the
musical
“Waitress”-
it
was my first time seeing a
Broadway show in Chicago
as all the ones I’d seen
previously were in New
York. I love theater and
Broadway and was super
excited to see my first show
in Chicago.
I went into the show
blind, having no idea what
the musical was going to
be about, but I still loved
it. The music, written
by popular artist Sara
Bareilles, was beautiful
yet poppy and catchy. I
enjoyed the modern-day
storyline and the cute
way the story was able to
intertwine the motif of pies
and baking throughout the
show. But I’m not writing
to comment on whether
I liked the musical or not,
because overall it was a
great musical.
As I watched the show,
though
I
enjoyed
it,
something
was
still
bothering me at the back
of my mind, about race.
It wasn’t that the entire
audience
watching
the
show was white. That
was
to
be
expected,
and as a person being
used to constantly being
surrounded by only white
people,
it
didn’t
make
me
feel
uncomfortable.
It wasn’t the fact that
the main characters and

love interests were white,
because that was also to be
expected too.
It was the roles the Black
women
were
playing.
Foremost, they were all
supporting
characters,
but what upset me the
most was that they were
all just stereotypes. The
main
character
was
a
30-something-year-old
white
woman
named
Jenna. Her best friend,
Becky, was a large sassy
Black woman who was
always back talking and
making
sassy
remarks
to the amusement of the
audience.
The
problem
with this? She was just a
caricature. The character
she played was completely
based
off
of
all
the
stereotypes Black women
try so hard to get away
from. That we’re sassy,
loud, rude and are always
there with a comeback.
Because
shockingly
enough,
not
all
Black
women are like that!!
The only other prominent
Black character in the
show was the nurse who
more or less fell into that
same stereotype as sassy,
always saying something
smart and just a comic
relief. Don’t get me wrong,
the two women who played
the parts were both great
actresses
and
amazing
singers as well as all-
around performers. But
it was still disheartening
to me to watch the show
and know that as a Black
woman trying to pursue
theater, I would be limited
to roles like these. That
when I watch musicals,
there are so many roles
and characters I’d love to

play but I’d never be able to
because I’m not white. And
I’m not talking about shows
where the character has to
be cast as someone who is
white in order for the story
to make sense contextually
or historically. I mean roles
where the character could
probably be played by any
race but I’d still never be
given a chance to play it
because I’m not white.
So I’ll only be pushed to
roles in which I’ll have
to
embody
stereotypes
that
I’m
otherwise
working so hard to show
the world that I, as well
as other Black women,
am
more
than.
When
I was younger I never
consciously noticed things
like this, as only seeing
white representation was
something that I was used
to.
There are musicals in
which the majority of
the cast are Black people
and people of color, like
“The Color Purple” and
“Dreamgirls”,
and
it’s
amazing to have those
shows
that
feature
so
many Black artists and
celebrate
Black
culture
so beautifully. But I don’t
want to have to have the
mindset that if I want a
lead in a show, I’ll have
to be cast in one of those
shows. I want to be able to
play Jenna in “Waitress”,
Heather
Chandler
in
“Heathers”,
Sophie
in
“Mamma Mia”, Rose in
“Dogfight.” I don’t want
to have to limit my dreams
because of the color of
my skin. I want to be
appreciated as an actress
because of my ability to
play a character, not just
fulfill a stereotype.

By EFE OSAGIE

MiC EDITOR

On why I write

By KHANG HUYNH

MiC COLUMNIST

PLAYBILL

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