Apart 
from 
soberly 

functioning 
every 
day, 

introspecting into the quirks 
and the charms that we hold 
informs how we respond to 
the pressure campus culture 
puts on defining who we are. 
Our campus is filled with 
millennials, and it’s no wonder 
that one of our privileges 
over 
previous 
generations 

lies 
in 
the 
formation 
of 

self-identity. 
We’re 
caught 

between a wealth of human 
and internet resources and the 
impressionability of our years. 
The decisions we make about 
what campus spaces to belong 
to, and what to achieve for 
ourselves, eventually build into 
each other. They develop into 
another layer of our identity 
— like secondary, permeable 
skins. At their best, these skins 
filter out those earthly forces 
— relationship issues, mental 
illness, financial burdens — 
from 
deconstructing 
stable 

senses of self. Though the 
relative 
ease 
with 
which 

we define ourselves doesn’t 
enable an immediate facility in 
answering the age-old question 
of “Who am I?”, it does make it 
tempting for us to feel entitled 
to 
expressing 
that 
answer 

when we think we’ve found it.

Cultural organizations on 

campus 
particularly 
urge 

millennials 
with 
minority 

identities 
to 
express 
their 

ties to their own heritage. I 
think one reason why such 
organizations 
emphasize 

cultural expression is to assert 
that the connection between 
national and ethnic identities 
remains intact, despite the 
marginalizing 
attitudes 

to 
which 
minorities 
have 

historically been subjected. For 
instance, the Indian American 
Student Association’s annual 
cultural show connects the 
meaning 
of 
being 
Indian-

American 
with 
traditional 

Indian song and dance, for 
a 
more 
than 
enthusiastic 

audience. Thus, I understand 
that 
minorities’ 
resistance 

toward systems of silencing 
is a gratifying one — and 
rightfully so. As an audience 
member 
of 
IASA’s 
shows, 

however, the extent to which 
I share in the auditorium’s 
atmosphere of cultural pride 
has 
an 
unfortunate 
catch. 

At each show’s conclusion, I 
think about how I am Indian-
American, but not Indian-
American in the way that is 
portrayed on stage. Leaving 
the auditorium, in fact, marks 
the moments in which I don’t 
feel very Indian-American at 
all. During my sophomore year, 
my cousin visited campus. We 
planned to attend a show, and 
walked without sharing our 
thoughts for a while. When we 
reached Hill Auditorium, he 
took it all in: the bold kurtas 
and 
jugis, 
the 
unashamed 

laughs and glittering salwar 
kameezes, muttering “Y’all are 
here with the glamor, huh?”

My desire to connect with 

my heritage has grown, but I 
have avoided 
doing so by 
participating 
in IASA. This 
is 
because 

IASA has the 
capacity 
to 

both 
define 

and reinforce 
what the most 
expressive 
elements 
of 
Indian-

American 
identity 
are, 

and 
exclude 

all 
that 

doesn’t 
vibe 

with 
that 

expression. I 
interpret IASA’s influence, a 
bit regretfully, as a monolithic 
reference point for a lot that 
lies outside of my experience. 
The Indian-American identity 
I 
inhabited 
growing 
up 

did not incorporate Indian 
culture, which was isolated 
to destination places: Once a 
year, my family would journey 
to the suburbs of Indian stores 
and Hindu temples. Of my bare 
smattering of Bengali, I still 
fail to pronounce the words 

like a natural. And Bollywood’s 
tendency to intertwine wealth, 
lighter-skinned leads and the 
escapism 
of 
romanticizing 

an Indian existence reaches 
an excess I find unrelatable. 
I’m still figuring out how to 
incorporate these contrarian 
views into an identity that 
determines its own kind of 
pride and confidence. One that 
is comfortable in singularity, 
not being of a normative sense 
of national pride. It can thus 
be difficult to separate my 
critiques of Bollywood from 
my critiques of IASA’s cultural 
show, 
as 
it 
incorporates 

Bollywood-esque music and 
dance. As I think the show 
neatly deflects from the bruises 
that come with the territory of 
being Indian-American, I tend 
to spend more time dwelling 
on these than on the honorific 
spaces that have been afforded 
Indian culture in America 
today. These spaces are not 
conducive to the upbringing 

that 
has 

shaped 
my 

understanding 
of 
what 

being a first-
generation 
Indian 
American 
entails.

Having 

immigrated to 
America during 
the 1980s, my 
parents 
had 

experiences 
that 
I 
still 

consider when 
figuring 
out 

the extent to 
which I desire 

to adopt Indian culture. They 
came to live in a small town. 
My parents often felt cut off 
from the larger South Asian 
community as they struggled 
to assimilate into the rural 
place of their new home. Apart 
from the previous ones in 
which they would share their 
story, the moments when my 
parents publicly acknowledged 
their nationality were typically 
of defense and passivity, in 
reaction to racial hostility. 
Their 
acquirement 
of 

American citizenship began 
a process in which they lost 
cultural solidarity and gained 
ambivalent experiences. These 
characteristics 
are 
part 
of 

the bargain that citizenship 
offers, and come in an invisible 
package 
compared 
to 
the 

obvious benefits that being an 
American confers. The steps 
they took in consolidating their 
ethnic and national identities 
happened to lag behind those 
that strengthened toward a 
visible, prideful harmonization 
between ethnicity and culture. 
Dwelling on how they became 
Americans, 
I 
realize 
the 

privileged dimension of being 
able to form the public presence 
of one’s cultural identity. I 
understand how my quiet pride 
of not identifying with Indian 
culture is marginal to the 
expressive freedoms that being 
Indian-American entails today.

All of this is not to say that 

I don’t have a certain love for 
the show. As the performance 
of cultural fusion hits the mark 
of entrancing crowds, it allows 
me to become distracted from 

a divide that has introduced 
me 
to 
more 
ambivalence 

than clarity. Within a sweet 
period, I would observe how 
performance 
enables 
an 

extreme of cultural pride, and 
focus on the brilliant lengths 
that culture-based pride can 
go. However, I think a crucial 
aspect of IASA’s shows is 
the construction of a space 
that allows Indian-American 
millennials 
to 
temporarily 

forget 
moments 
that 
have 

negatively defined our own 
minority experiences. These 
experiences, I would argue, 
distinguish 
Indian-American 

culture from Indian culture. 
Thus, I believe that cultural 
shows 
would 
carry 
more 

constructive messages if they 
were to publicly discuss the 
meaning of the very American 
bruises that have, at some level, 
defined who we are. As I do not 
recognize an elaboration on the 
hyphenated distinction, which 
has been central to at least 
my understanding of Indian-
American identity, the show 
apparently subordinates such 
bruises to its Indian-centric 
pride. 
This 
subordination 

would be problematic, as it 
would neglect to represent 
a 
fuller 
range 
of 
Indian-

American 
experiences. 
To 

me, IASA’s show is not merely 
a 
celebration 
of 
cultural 

songs 
and 
dances. 
It’s 
a 

representation of how I have 
yet to touch upon a radiance of 
feeling similar to that which 
IASA members dance on stage 
with. Within my hands, such a 
spark would further promote 
an identity that is diametric 
to the idealized traditions of 
IASA’s celebration.

It is unfortunate that I do 

not have an uncomplicated 
attachment to the cultural 
show — to the rhythm-scape of 
our campus’s Little India. But 
as regional and psychological 
differences dynamically stitch 
the intra-ethnic experience, 
they 
produce 
lives 
whose 

cultural 
practices 
intersect 

and superimpose as lines and 
patterns do. I often think about 
this comparison in a crude 
way: I grew up in a small town 
far away and haven’t formed 
strong or even partial heritage 
ties. I hesitate to embrace 
the University of Michigan’s 
provision of a cultural capsule’s 
yearly parade to the center of 
the stage.
For the sake of tempering 
performances 
with 
realism 

and expressing the triumphs 
of 
hyphenated 
American 

nationalities, 
in 
addition 

to the moments that have 
silenced them, I would love 
to see a certain space emerge 
on campus. In this space, 
cultural organizations would 
acknowledge and expand upon 
the privilege of many millennial 
minorities 
to 
culturally 

express themselves, if they 
think doing so is fundamental 
to their sense of ethnic and 
national identities. Not only 
would such a space better 
attract those who come from 
muted channels of expression 
like I do, but also help more 
millennial 
minorities 
stand 

up and respect the bruises 
our immigrant forebears first 
experienced

The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Michigan in Color
Thursday, September 27, 2018 — 5A

ACROSS
1 *Top selection
9 Bring pleasure 
(to)
15 Horror film line 
that usually gets 
its speaker in 
trouble
16 With 
conviction
17 Final Yahtzee 
roll, e.g.
18 Defies
19 Omaha-to-
Milwaukee dir.
20 Epidermal flaw
21 Its practice 
doesn’t make it 
perfect
22 *Preliminary 
sketch
28 Cowboy 
leggings
30 Quite small
31 __ culpa
32 Indian 
noblewoman
33 Utopia
35 Degrees of 
creativity, 
briefly
36 *Overly 
defensive 
stance
39 Track 
calculation
40 Very long time
41 Support for a 
stroller
42 Seminarian’s 
subj.
43 __ bran
44 Stun gun brand
45 *Newbie
49 Kareem, once
50 Interoffice PC 
connection
51 Vehicle that 
really moves?
54 Canal zone
57 “Lives of 
the Mayfair 
Witches” trilogy 
author
60 Video game 
figure
61 Agonize about
62 Deal with a 
bounced email
63 *Stud poker 
element

DOWN
1 Roofing unit
2 Vigorous spirit
3 “Got anything 
__?”

4 Mil. three-striper
5 High on the 
Scoville scale
6 Rodeos, e.g.
7 Equip anew
8 Back nine 
opener
9 Wealthy
10 “Ecce homo” 
speaker
11 Hunt stealthily
12 Source of lean 
red meat
13 PC key
14 Fleur in 
heraldry
22 Assigns relative 
value to
23 Mayberry kid
24 2018 Pro 
Football Hall of 
Fame inductee 
Terrell
25 “It’s just a 
scratch”
26 Not as messy
27 “Nothing to it!”
28 Less refined
29 Deal with
33 Put on quite an 
act
34 Cubs’ digs
35 Heck of a party
36 Swedish tennis 
great

37 Astern
38 Amazon 
berry
43 Kind of band
44 Mine feature
46 Please 
mightily
47 Be at 
loggerheads
48 Cost
51 Brawny rival
52 Big name in 
PCs
53 Bookish sort

54 What a sequence 
of single strokes 
from the start 
of each starred 
answer to the 
next often adds 
up to
55 Thoroughfare: 
Abbr.
56 “Life Is Good” 
rapper
58 Farm girl
59 Dungeons & 
Dragons bird

By Jeffrey Wechsler
©2018 Tribune Content Agency, LLC
09/27/18

Los Angeles Times Daily Crossword Puzzle

Edited by Rich Norris and Joyce Nichols Lewis

09/27/18

ANSWER TO PREVIOUS PUZZLE:

Release Date: Thursday, September 27, 2018

I’m shook: millennials, cultural identity & privilege

COURTESY OF BETSEY STUBBS

TRINA RAY
MiC Contributor

“At each show’s 

conclusion, I 

thik about how 

I am Indian-
Ameircan, but 
not...the way it 
is displayed on 

the stage”

Interested in writing about campus or popular culture? Have a passion for 

poetry or personal narratives? Michigan in Color is hiring columnists and 

bloggers! Email michiganincolor@michigandaily.com for more information.

Skin care and make up

Beauty has always been a 

focus of my life and my daily 
routines, and whether that is 
due to cultural pressures or 
genuine interest is something 
that is still foreign to me. 
But, what I do know is it’s 
something in which I have 
grown 
to 
have 
a 
strong 

interest.

However, it’s always been 

a bit difficult navigating the 
world of skincare and makeup 
while having darker skin.

I used to wear a foundation 

that made me look like a 
walking fire alarm because 
drugstore foundation brands 
have never heard of a Brown 
or Black person with skin 
that doesn’t have red or gray 
undertones (because clearly, 
there 
are 
so 
many 
dark 

women who are just itching 
to have a foundation that’s 
their shade but makes them 
look like they’re ready for 
their funeral). Over the past 
few years brands have been 
stepping it up, and with the 
launch of Fenty Beauty (♥), this 
movement for darker people to 
have foundation shades has 
launched even further than I 
ever thought I would see it go 
in the next decade.

My relationship with my 

skin has been … tumultuous, 
to say the least. It still is, 
and while my skin is far 
from perfect, I’ve invested 
much research and time into 
learning about skin, especially 
darker skin. My hormones 
are always out of whack, and 
I’ve struggled with acne for 
the past eight years. So I was 
obviously inclined to start 
wearing makeup as a way to 
cover up all the scarring that’s 
been left over from my past 
acne. While that has led to me 
to be a makeup enthusiast, at 
heart I will always continue to 
be a skincare junkie.

Speaking of scarring, let’s 

talk about it! Because nobody 
else will.

Scarring is naturally bound 

to remain longer on darker 
skin just due to the fact that 
dark skin has more melanin. 
Of all the skin types, the 
darkest are dark Asian skin 
(e.g., Indian, Sri Lankan or 
Malaysian), 
Afro-Caribbean 

and 
Black 
skin 
(generally 

African origin, but can also 
originate from West Indian/
Caribbean 
people). 
Afro-

Caribbean/Black skin has the 
highest melanin concentration 
out of any category of ethnic 
skin type.

The more melanin you have, 

the darker your skin, so your 
scars from past blemishes 
will be that much stronger. 
Inflammation occurs under 
and 
over 
the 
skin 
when 

you have a pimple, and the 
inflammation leaves a longer-
lasting mark on darker skin.

Most 
skincare 
for 
dark 

marks is marketed toward 
whom beauty products have 
always been targeting: white 
women. 
Because 
they 
can 

inhale the mere scent of aloe 
vera gel and have their scars 
disappear, and we already 
know that this is not the case 
for darker people. I’m here to 
talk about what things work 
for us, scientifically speaking, 
and what things absolutely do 
not.

Number one on the list 

is 
extremely 
harmful 
yet 

extremely powerful to lighten 
dark marks: hydroquinone.

Hydroquinone, also known 

as devil juice, is a common 
ingredient 
used 
in 
skin 

lightening 
and 
bleaching 

treatments for darker women, 
as it is so powerful that it will 
penetrate the skin barrier to 
lighten up dark marks.

But, 
I 
beg 
you, 
please 

don’t ever use this. If your 
dermatologist 
recommends 

hydroquinone, run the other 

direction.

Hydroquinone, 
on 
dark 

skin, can often worsen dark 
marks; not only that, the 
ingredient can be toxic as it 
does have some carcinogenic 
and 
mutagenic 
properties. 

While 
the 
Federal 
Drug 

Administration has concluded 
it is okay in small doses (4 
percent 
concentration 
in 

skincare products), it still 
can cause adverse reactions 
not just on a surface level, 
but internally provoke DNA 
alterations and mutations. 

Hydroquinone 
is 
often 

seen as an easier way out just 
because of how fast it works, 
but the effects on your health 
in the long term are absolutely 
not worth it!

But I’m not just going to 

leave you with this as you go 
to mope and believe there is 
no way out to your situation, 
because that’s not true in the 
slightest.

One of the things that you 

can do to prevent your dark 
marks 
from 
getting 
even 

darker is wearing sunscreen. 
If you think you don’t need it 
because you’ve never gotten 
a sunburn, you’re so wrong. 
You’re not just wrong, you’re 
loathsome. Go wear your SPF, 
immediately. This isn’t even 
relating to just surface-level 
appearance, but skin cancer 
is a sneaky rat and SPF helps 
prevent 
skin 
cancer. 
You 

should aim for an SPF of at 
least 30, and some good ones 
that won’t leave an ashy/purple 
cast on your skin include:

 Supergoop! Unseen 

Sunscreen 
Broad 
Spectrum 

SPF 40

 Aveeno Positively Radiant 

Sheer Daily Moisturizer with 
SPF 30

 Neutrogena Hydro Boost 

Water Gel Lotion with SPF 50 
(for my dry skin girls!)

Number two on the list is 

glycolic acid. Another thing 
you can do to actively start 
lightening 
some 
of 
these 

marks is to use products with 
concentrations 
of 
glycolic 

acid on your face, especially 
if your skin is new to acids. 
A good example of a product 
with this ingredient is the Pixi 
Glow Tonic. It has a bit of a 
lower concentration than most 
products, which is why it’s a 
great way to build up tolerance 
to 
products 
with 
higher 

concentrations. Once you’ve 
built up tolerance, you can 
try using products containing 
ascorbic acid, the original 
form of Vitamin C, if you find 
glycolic acid concentrations 
don’t hurt your skin.

Number three on the list 

is Mandelic acid. If you have 
already used products with 
concentrations of acids on 
your face for a long period of 
time before (azelaic acid and 
salicylic acid are two of the 
most commonly used ones), or 
if glycolic acid irritates your 
skin, give mandelic acid a go! 
Mandelic acid is especially 
good if you have a richer skin 
tone, and has been shown 
to have less of an irritating 
effect. Remember with any of 
these products to always test 
on the corner of your face or 
your hand before plastering it 
all over your face; it’s always 
better to be safe rather than 
sorry with skincare.

Remember while these will 

take much more investment 
and time than hydroquinone, 
the long-term benefit is so 
worth it. While it is always 
better to go to a dermatologist 
than to listen to some college 
student, if you have a darker 
skin tone, it can be easy to get 
products that only irritate your 
skin further. So, make sure you 
know how your dermatologist 
works 
with 
darker 
skin. 

Research, time and diligence 
are your three keys to glowing 
and golden skin. Put the effort 
in, and your skin will reward 
you!

SWATHI KOMARIVELLI

MiC Contributor

