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